#so stuff is going to be vague for a moment

[cacoetheswriting]

break my heart again | chapter six from right where you left me.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (modern day au) word count: 6.4K

summary: He realises in that moment how, although you’ve never said anything, you have feelings for him too. Back then, even stronger now. All along. All this time. And Eddie does next what he knows is wrong. He forces your hand — just like he did three years ago, but this time, he’s hoping for a different outcome. That’s all he’s got left. Hope.

content warnings: forced proximity, angsty, slow burn, suggestive & mature themes, adult language, emotional hurt / little comfort, some serious mutual pining, use of pet names, implied intimacy | non-explicit, plus mentions & descriptions of underage alcohol consumption / substance abuse, recreational drug use, discusses sobriety, also touches on topics of: death, grief, toxic relationships, gaslighting, self-doubt / insecurities, love triangle?, unrequited love — pls let me know if i missed any!

psa: any images used in chapter headers don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also vaguely — if at all— described in the story.

2:34AM. 

The house is still. Quiet and empty. Everyone is hiding away in their own rooms, trying to get some sleep after a long and exciting day.

Except the house is not still. There’s shouting bouncing between the walls, keeping the group awake. Raised voices coming from one bedroom.

Eddie’s, to be exact.

Ding. Phones illuminate the darkness. The group chat.

Steve: They’ve been arguing for over an hour… Robin: should someone check what’s going on? Robin: not it

Jonathan sends a thumbs down emoji.

Nancy: Let’s leave them alone for a bit longer. Steve: I’m trying to sleep Robin: we’re all trying to sleep, Harrington Nancy: 15 minutes and I’ll go, okay?

Thumbs up reactions fly in. The chat dies down for a moment. Phones get locked, attempts at eavesdropping continue.

Robin: do we know what they’re arguing about? Robin: they looked mighty cosy this evening and now this? Steve: I can take a wild guess Robin: do enlighten us, detective Jonathan: Guys, it’s not our business. Steve: They’re kinda making it our business, Byers Steve: I suspect it’s got something to do with Chrissy Robin: of fucking course

Chrissy has had enough of being made to look like a fool. She felt as though she sacrificed enough for Eddie Munson during their time together and she wanted something in return, for the years she wasted on the metal-head. For all the instances he’d tell her you meant nothing, yet his actions proved otherwise.

Chrissy no longer wanted to be the butt of the joke. 

Recording her version of the story, articulating it into words she’s been too afraid to feel, was therapeutic. She should have left it there. Let the past go and find someone who actually cares. But she couldn’t just let it be. Not so deep down, she wanted Eddie to hurt — you’re just collateral damage, a means to an end.

You pressed play without thinking too much about the implications because what could Eddie’s pretty ex-girlfriend possibly want with you. Issue some vague and empty threats, perhaps? Or maybe to tell you something along the lines of ‘good luck, he’s an asshole’ — typical ex-girlfriend stuff.

Only there isn’t anything typical about Chrissy’s message.

Listening to it once should have been enough for you, but no, you had to go and hurt your heart by playing it again and again and again, until the words made even less sense than they did the first time around.

It’s incredibly incriminating, to say the least, and you don’t quite believe that anything Chrissy has said is true, so you let auto-pilot take over and saunter down the hall, towards Eddie’s bedroom.

He opens the door before you even get a chance to knock, as if he knew you were coming. As if he felt your energy gravitate in his direction and he wanted to meet you halfway. A smile reaches his lips, cocky yet soft, and your heart clenches because you desperately want everything to remain on the edge of whatever the hell you two have been doing all day.

“Miss me already, angel?” He quips, arm above his head, resting against the frame.

“We need to talk,” you say and slide under his bicep, stepping inside his safe space.

Eddie shifts, his smile faltering. He gets the sense that he’s not going to like what’s about to come out of your mouth. He swallows a breath and shuts the door with the heel of his foot, a gentle thud vibrating against the floorboards.

“What’s going on?” Concern laced through his tone.

You don’t answer. Not really. Instead, you hold up your phone, the one you’ve been gripping tightly in your hand, imprints left behind on your palm.

Staring at the metal-head, you press play. Chrissy’s voice booms from the speaker and you observe Eddie for any sort of reaction: to prove she’s lying. She has to be lying.

“Okay, ugh. This is so weird,” Chrissy’s note begins. “You don’t have to listen to this. In fact, I half expect you’ve already turned it off because you don’t owe me anything. We were never friends, just friendly. Acquaintances by nature or some shit.”

She pauses. Eddie’s eyes dart between you and the phone. He takes a step forward, but doesn’t try to come any closer to you. Almost as if he knows what his ex-girlfriend is about to say and he feels helpless to stop it.

“Now that you seem to have reconciled with him. There’s something I think you ought to know. Something he definitely won’t tell you since he’s always been quite chickenshit when it comes to the truth and you - separately and combined.”

You play the second voice note, eyes not leaving Eddie’s brown ones for a second.

“Our graduation party. There’s not a lot I know about what happened between you, Eddie, and Steve. He never told me the specifics, but I can piece together a rough picture and I know there was a blowup, one he blamed you for.”

Shuffling in the background indicates she’s on the move as she speaks.

“Listen, I’m not here to make assumptions or whatever. I just think there’s been a certain double standard which you don’t deserve - coming from me, that must feel like a shocker.”

Chrissy chuckles. The voice note ends. You play the next one, but not before Eddie says your name which makes your insides curl.

“After you fought for everyone at the party to hear, and after Eddie took you home, I don’t know if you know that he came back. I found him ruffling through the bushes. I suppose he was looking for something, although he never told me what. He never told me much when it came to you.”

Your free hand lands on the guitar pick around your neck.

“Well, I invited him in.”

“Angel—”

“Eddie, shut up.” You interrupt, voice quavering because now, seeing the downcast expression on his face, you know what Chrissy is about to say next is true.

The note continues.

“I’ll spare you the details. We slept together. Bet Eddie would never tell you that, huh? He’s all high and mighty about whatever you did with Steve earlier that very same night, when in reality he’s not much better.”

A pause for dramatic effect.

“Then, word spreads that you’ve skipped town and Eddie comes around more often. I asked about you, you know? I asked if he told you about what we did because I’m not stupid, I know there’s always been something between the two of you, and I didn’t want to step on any toes in case you came back. All he did was shrug and say you didn’t deserve to know anything from him anymore.”

Tears wet your lashes.

“Talk about being a conniving asshole.” 

In the last, shortest note, she adds, “Sorry you had to find out this way.”

With the click of a thumb, you lock your phone and go back to gripping it, tight. Anger seeps through your fingers, although that’s where it starts and ends. The rest of you feels borderline numb — which usually drives you to drink. You hate yourself for this setback, but more so for allowing this in the first place. For getting caught up in Eddie’s forgiveness and his laugh, his touches and kisses, his promises of a better tomorrow.

The sham is clear. Chrissy spelled it out in her voice notes.

Eddie Munson gave you hell for kissing Steve then jumped into bed with the blonde Cunningham. Whatever. He needed someone to make him feel better. That’s not what irks you.

What hurts the most is the radio silence that followed beyond the night. The years of no contact.

What hurts the most is allowing you to think everything was your fault. For allowing you to isolate yourself from your friends, your home. For letting you stew in misery, thinking you hurt him beyond repair.

“I was going to tell you,” Eddie says, taking another step in your direction. “I swear, angel. I-I just didn’t know how to go about it.”

You scoff although your voice wobbles as you say, “Well, thank god for your ex-girlfriend.”

Eddie’s now an arm-length away.

“Look, I-I know this looks bad, but this doesn’t have to change anything,” he half-pleads. “I mean, we dated after, so it’s not like—”

“Like me and Steve?” You interrupt in disbelief at this entire situation. “I thought we moved past that.”

“We did,” he agrees with a shake of the head. “Fuck! I-I am just trying to say how what happened between me and Chrissy is different.”

Slowly, you nod. “Right, because that explains it so much better.”

“Angel—”

“You think I’m mad because you had sex with her?” 

He seems shaken by your question which answers it immediately.

“Eddie, I don’t give a shit about who you sleep with. Chrissy, those horny moms that listen to your radio show, whoever else.” You tell him, “I’m upset because I went years believing everything that happened to us was my goddamn fault!”

The yell slips and he flinches, not expecting such ferocity.

Eddie left you to your own guilt and that’s his prerogative. The secrets however, they hurt. First the Billy thing, and now this. And imagining how different things could have been if you knew all this information sooner makes you want to scream.

“You keep secrets, Eddie. Billy and this, and you fail to realise how these secrets impacted me and my decisions!” You accuse. “What’s worse, we had a heart to heart last night, which would have been a good opportunity to tell me about this thing with Chrissy, but you chose yourself over me, again.”

“That’s not fair,” he says. “You still left, remember? You didn’t have to do that. You could have stayed and we uh, we could have tried to work it out—”

“I left because of you!”

Something snaps then. The last string of forging forward.

“Okay, I don’t like the accusation when you’re the one who made out with my friend.” Eddie goes on defence.

“Jesus! How many times are you going to make me apologise?” You throw your arms up with the question. “I was drunk and sad. My best friend—” You point to the metal-head. “— just told me he had feelings for me at quite literally the worst possible time and I wasn’t ready to…”

The sentence fades as you shake your head. “No. You don’t get to say anything about me kissing Steve anymore because you forgave me, remember?”

He’s staring at you. Hands formed into fists at his sides.

The argument bounces back-and-forth like this. You’re hurt. He’s hurt. Neither of you willing to back down first because there’s a whole lot more to lose now than there ever was before — boundaries crossed, all those kisses and whatever the fuck they mean.

“Do the others know?” You ask, breaking a tension filled moment of silence.

Eddie shakes his head.

You smack your lips together. “That tells me you’re ashamed, which means you know what you did is wrong.”

“What do you want me to say?!” He half-shouts, feeling agitated and defeated all at the same time.

“You still haven’t said you’re sorry,” you answer, softer, sadder.

Eddie’s heart clenches. He can see the hurt behind your eyes, hear it in your voice. He should have apologised, but you came in hot and he felt blindsided — not like that’s a good enough excuse, although maybe it is considering some forty-eight hours ago, you two were hating each other.

Well, he didn’t hate you. Never ever. Quite the opposite in fact, all this time.

“I'm sorry, okay.” Eddie says eventually. “I am really fucking sorry.”

“If only that wasn’t so forced.”

He sighs. “We’re going in circles here, angel.”

And the argument starts again. At this point, it feels stupid, but there’s a gnawing inside your chest that’s not allowing you to let this shit go.

“You let me believe you were broken over me.” 

“I was!” Eddie shouts. “What happened with Chrissy has nothing to do with how I feel about you, goddamn it!”

You blink. Feel, he said. However, not even a split-second passes to let you dwell on the word and his use of it because Eddie continues with his rant.

“The facts are, you left. Despite whatever I said or did, and whatever you said or did. At the end of the day, you still left! And maybe I am a shitty person, shitty friend, for not reaching out and not telling you about getting with Chrissy that same night, fucking sue me!” 

The metal-head approaches you as he speaks. He stops only when he’s toe to toe, hovering over you, demanding eye contact.

“I was heartbroken and I chose to react how I did to help me get over you!” 

He fucked up, he knows, but you’re no better either. There’s been years of miscommunication and hidden information; that’s hard to fix over a few days.

“Eddie…” You whisper his name and search his gaze for absolution. An ending to this whole debacle.

“Which frankly, is a tough fucking thing to do,” he adds and clenches his jaw in anticipation of what you’re going to tell him next.

But you don’t get to reply. You don’t even have a minute for his admission to settle because his phone starts intensely vibrating on the bedside table.

Hanging his head, Eddie walks towards it and after glancing over his shoulder at you, a sad look on his face, he reads the texts that are coming into the group chat.

He types.

Eddie: We’re fine. Steve: Sure doesn’t sound like it, dude Steve: Heard my name a couple of times… Eddie: It’s fine. Robin: liar

He slips his phone into the back pocket of his jeans with a sigh, and as he turns back around, he says: “I’m sorry, angel. For my part, I am.”. But you’re not there anymore.

The door to his bedroom is wide open. You must’ve slipped out in the split-second he paid attention to his phone instead of what truly mattered.

He follows, looking for you. When he finds you outside, sitting on the lawn and staring ahead at the lake, you tell him you want to be alone. Eddie says he knows, yet plops down next to you because he’s not making the same mistake he did three years ago. He’s not letting you retreat and run away when he just got you back.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says earnestly, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes.

“So you’ve said,” you reply, choosing to focus on the reflection of the stars in the dark water.

He sighs. “You don’t make things easy, you know.”

“So you’ve said,” you repeat.

Suddenly, he’s in front of you. Parting your legs, so he can slide in between. His own knees bump your arms, keeping you in place, no escape, as his hands delicately grip your face and force you to meet his sad brown gaze.

“I should’ve fought for you.”

Not a simple sentence whatsoever. Hard to say, hard to hear. The words settle around you, within you. They hold your heart. Squeeze it and let the blood pour until you’re faint.

The weight of this is bigger than anything he’s ever said to you. Eddie knows this too. He feels the way your body sags in his embrace. How you’ve seemingly stopped breathing.

He realises in that moment how, although you’ve never said anything, you have feelings for him too. Back then, even stronger now. All along. All this time.

And Eddie does next what he knows is wrong. He forces your hand — just like he did three years ago, but this time, he’s hoping for a different outcome. That’s all he’s got left. Hope.

“I should’ve fought for you because I-I don’t think I’ve ever stopped… feeling things for you.”

“Eddie.”

“And I-I think the problem all along has been your fear of reciprocating anything real.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Maybe,” he says with a shrug, “Or maybe you’re just trying to find another reason, another excuse, to push me away so you don’t have to face what’s been in front of you all along. Me.”

He kisses you before the words fully escape his plump mouth. The fight’s not over. The argument, simply put on hold. His lips trace yours, then travel along your jaw and down your neck. He reaches your collarbone and kisses there too, slow and steady.

He wants to hear you say it. Admit the feelings you’ve been harbouring.

His movement is methodical. His hands now on your waist, splayed fingers digging into your lower back as he bites your flesh, coaxing a moan from your parted lips.

“Eddie,” you breathe, “This doesn’t fix anything.”

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”

But you don’t. In fact, you lean forward.

“But we’re not having sex,” you mutter against his parted lips.

“Okay,” he breathes.

“And this doesn’t fix anything.”

“You already said that, angel.”

Since you have no further rebuttals — actually, you have plenty, but all you can think about right now is how much you want him.

Sure, the circumstances could be better, but fact remains. You want him to touch you and make you forget, make you feel better. Make you happy. And you want to return the favour, out on the grass, under the cover of darkness, because if nothing else, at least you’ll both have this moment.

3:17AM

Steve: It’s oddly quiet……… Nancy: Maybe they went to sleep? Jonathan: Exactly what we should be doing too.

He follows with a frown emoji, to which Harrington reacts with a thumbs down.

Robin: they’re not in their rooms Robin: and yes, I went to check because that’s what good friends do Jonathan: Not our business. Steve: The cars are still here, so they must be somewhere on the property Jonathan: Guys, seriously. Nancy: We should all go to sleep. Robin: fine Robin: but if they’re still missing in the morning, I won’t be the one talking to the cops Nancy: I’m sure they’re both fine. Steve: They’re in the backyard….. Robin: oh? Steve: They’re fine

He wraps the conversation up with a winky face and locks his phone. The rest of the group do the same, only after Robin sends one last message: “fucking finally”.

Finally. 

That’s what you’d say to describe this moment too.

As Eddie’s hands gently slide under your top, as he works his lips along your jawline, as you tug his brown locks in your fingers, as he lay you down on the grass and wedged his denim-clad knee in between your thighs, finally is the thought that definitely crosses your mind.

Until it doesn’t.

“Eddie,” you mutter his name.

“Yes, baby?” He’s kissing down your neck, excruciatingly slow.

You exhale, eyes rolling to the back of your skull, turned on, but also nervous for his reaction to what’s about to come out of your mouth.

“What are we doing?”

He smirks against your skin. You can feel the twitch of his lips against that soft spot you didn’t even know you had until the metal-head found it.

“We’re not having sex,” he replies, teasing with your earlier comment.

The corners of your own lips twitch upwards involuntary. Happy, content. He’s funny. He likes you. Why is the devil on your shoulder trying to ruin this good thing?

“No.” Pressing your forehead to his, gently pushing away, you continue, “What are we doing?”

Slowly, the metal-head lifts his head, catching your gaze with his own. The gentle moonlight glow illuminates his face.

“There’s a lot riding against us,” you say. “And it doesn’t help that we’ve been avoiding this conversation.”

“What conversation?” He questions, although he already knows the answer.

“Eddie,” you whine. “We can’t keep pretending.”

Brows furrowed, he drops his hand to your lap, interlocking your fingers together. He squeezes once, twice, then swallows his breath. Nervous. A ticking time-bomb, this thing between you. That’s how he’d describe it. A lot of questions and excuses, not a lot of decisiveness out of fear, mainly.

“Pretending?” He ponders.

“Pretending it doesn’t hurt every time we look at one another,” you explain, “Pretending. everything is fine and we’re just two people who used to be friends.”

Eddie sighs. “That’s bullshit.”

And his lips are back on yours. Softer this time. A loving kiss. A loaded kiss. Making you forget why you were nervous in the first place because despite everything, he’s here and as are you. Together. Feeling… things. Liking each other. That should be enough.

Right?

Wrong.

Birds chirping and a cool breeze stir the brunette awake. He sits immediately because the first thing Eddie notices is how he’s alone — which is not how things ended at the ungodly hour of the night.

In the aftermath of a lovestruck haze, you fell asleep in his arms, but now you’re gone and dread spills into his gut. 

Pulling his T-shirt over his bare torso, Eddie is on his feet and rushing toward the house. Inside, Steve throws him a look, a cup of coffee barely hiding the knowing smirk.

“Some night, huh?”

But Eddie ignores his friend. He’s got no time to entertain the teasing of it all. He needs to find you first.

“Fuck off, Harrington.” Eddie grumbles, albeit growing red as a beet.

Steve snorts a laugh, shakes his head, and dips out the back door to enjoy the rest of his morning coffee.

Eddie resumes his search.

The living areas are all deserted. Quiet. Upstairs, he checks his own room first, the common bathroom, and when they too prove vacant, he rushes down the hall until he reaches the door of the last place you could be.

He knocks. Once, twice. There’s no answer and his anxiety spikes. Calling your name, he helps himself inside. Also empty.

Worse. There’s no sign of you whatsoever.

Eddie circles the room, slowly. The bed is made. En-suite clear of any lotions and bottles alike. Hesitantly, he opens the wardrobe, only to find nothing at all. Free hangers and unoccupied shelves. Your suitcase is also gone.

Something catches the metal-heads eye. A singular item left behind. The plushy he won you at the fair. He reaches for it, then stops abruptly because a sound coming from downstairs catches his attention instead. The entryway. Hinges open, close.

Your laughter.

Hastily, Eddie grabs the toy and rushes out of the room. He stops at the top of the stairs when his wide gaze lands on the girl he was sure left him behind — again.

“You’re here?” He half asks, half says.

Your head snaps in his direction and a timid smile graces your features.

“Good morning.”

“You’re here,” Eddie repeats, stepping down the steps, until he’s an arms length away from you.

“Where else would I be?”

“Your room is empty,” he points out, then lifts the plushy in his hands, “This is the only thing that was left.”

You reach for the toy, but grab his hands instead. Fingers interlocking together and you squeeze.

“I packed up my car. The rabbit must’ve fallen out of my bag.” Slowly, you pull his knuckles to your chest.

He nods, once. Slowly.

“I-I just thought maybe you… The whole Chrissy thing and what I said last night…”

“Yeah, we should definitely talk before we leave today,” you say and offer him another smile.

Eddie takes it in, the twist of your lips, and relaxes slightly, but there’s a look in your eyes he can’t quite place. A certain detachment. He wants to ask you about it. He wants to double check that you’re okay because he doesn’t quite believe that you are. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get a chance because you slip away from him, into the kitchen where seemingly the rest of the group has now gathered.

The detachment is intentional. You’re just unaware that Eddie picked up on it. He wasn’t supposed to.

Truthfully, when you woke up this morning, tangled in his limbs on the hard grass, your insides curled with panic.

The metal-head kind of predicted it himself, with what he said. You’re afraid of falling. Love and other good things. You don’t want to feel them because they’ve hurt you before and he knows that. Which is why your instinct is to leave. Run to Las Vegas and forget about Eddie Munson once and for all. You can’t keep stringing him along forever.

You were almost free and clear, driving away without any goodbyes, when Nancy caught you.

She saw the look in your eyes and understood immediately because it’s the same look that you shared with her three years ago, when she told you to leave.

This time however, the Wheeler girl is telling you to stay. “At least say goodbye,” she says and you nod. “It’s the right thing to do.”

All through breakfast, you workshop a list of pros and cons to the internal turmoil of leave with Eddie or leave alone.

The Munson boy is staring at you from across the table and his deep brown gaze makes it all that much harder to think. Thoughts of he doesn’t deserve this, he doesn’t deserve this, he doesn’t deserve this, turn to, don’t leave him, don’t leave him, don’t leave. But no good will come of you staying, that’s what the devil is telling you. The dark part of yourself.

“This was a really good weekend,” Robin announces with a smile. “Thank you for organising, Nance. You’re the best.”

Steve lifts his mug. “To Nancy.”

“To Nancy,” the group echoes, you included.

“To us,” the brunette girl says instead. 

Your gaze locks with Eddie’s and your heart drops. You don’t want to leave him. Not now, not ever. So maybe him coming with you to Vegas is a bad idea, because it’ll be that much more difficult to inevitably say goodbye?

His words echo in your mind: “Maybe you’re just trying to find another reason, another excuse, to push me away so you don’t have to face what’s been in front of you all along. Me.”, and despite the sinking sensation, you plaster on a smile and repeat Nancy’s sentiment, eyes not straying from the mahogany across from you for even a second. 

“How about we each say what our favourite part of this trip has been?” Robin suggests, “Eddie, why don’t you kick us off?”

The metal-head swallows. He forces himself to look away from you, towards the remainder of the group and nods.

“Uhm. Sure.” He clears his throat. “I uh, I had fun at the fair.”

He doesn’t look at you when he answers because that would reveal too much to your friends. Although, judging by the snickers coming from Steve’s end of the table, they already know a lot more than they’re letting on.

“Good start,” Robin says and you can hear the smirk in her voice. “Who wants to go next?”

Argyle puts himself forward. He says he enjoyed canoeing the most and the whole table, minus you and Eddie, barks out in laughter. Jonathan reminds his friend that he never joined them on the lake, he was afraid, and Argyle disagrees.

“That doesn’t sound like me, dude.” He drawls.

The group continues to laugh.

“Okay, okay,” Steve interjects, ceasing his chortles. “My favourite moment was cutting onions that very first night.”

Your eyes snap in Harrington’s direction and for the first time all morning, the smile on your face doesn’t feel forced.

“Don’t be cute,” you tease.

Steve rolls his eyes. “What can I say, sweetheart. I loved reconnecting with you.”

“That’s been my favourite too,” Robin chimes.

“Guys, stop,” you force, getting slightly choked up about this sentimental moment you’ve found yourself in. “These feel like cop-out answers.”

“What’s yours then?” Robin asks.

You hesitate. There’s been a lot. Some bad moments too, although the good outweigh them. Eddie is at the top of your mind. Making out in the lake. Later, dry humping (etc.) on the grass. A burn in your cheeks at the sudden flashes of memory.

“It’s all been really nice,” is what you settle on.

Robin rolls her eyes. “Right, ‘cause that’s not a cop-out answer.” She huffs, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Nice,” Steve repeats. “I guess bumpin’ naughties—”

“Well,” Jonathan interrupts, “I agree. It’s all been really nice.”

You flash him a grateful smile and he tips his head in your direction. A way of expressing ‘don’t worry about it’ behind the look he’s sporting.

“Me too,” Nancy adds.

“You guys are no fun,” Robin half-whines. “Only Eddie understood the assignment, and even he’s not being a hundred percent truthful.”

“I am,” the metal-head speaks. “Being truthful, that is. I really liked the fair.”

Robin smiles at him. “I know, dude. But I also know you guys did something salacious last night,” she says, pointing between you and the brunette across from you, “And I would’ve thought that’s the favourite moment.”

“Robin!” Nancy breathes in shock.

“We… I-I…” You stammer, searching for the right thing to say since there’s no use in denying it.

“That’s none of your business,” Eddie huffs for the both of you.

“I told them that,” Jonathan says.

“Oh come on,” Steve laughs, “It’s not a big deal. We’re just happy for you two. It’s been a long time coming.”

Hesitantly, you look back at Eddie. His own gaze is fixated on the ceiling above, head resting on the edge of the chair. He’s thinking about that detached look on your face. How can he share the same energy as his friends when you feel like you’ve already slipped away?

“So, are you guys like, together?” Argyle asks innocently, pushing the conversation along. “Congrats either way, my dudes.”

You want the ground to swallow you up whole. For all the talking you’ve done with the metal-head, you’ve not discussed a lot about what any of this means. The plan was to do so last night, before Chrissy’s voice notes. Plans shift. Mere moments ago, you said you’d talk before it’s time to go. You certainly didn’t think you’d be having this conversation in front of / thanks to your friends.

“We’re not together,” you say, blinking the embarrassment away, and the whole table looks at you. Including Eddie, whose lips part as if to say something different.

And he does.

“We uhm,” the metal-head clears his throat. “We actually haven’t talked about it.”

“Not for lack of trying” You mean it as a whisper, for no one in particular to hear. It comes out a little more intense than that. 

Eddie leans forward. A snap judgement.

“You really want to do this here?” He asks quietly.

“Okay,” Robin chimes, “Guys, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, the dryness becoming unbearable. “All the arguing last night, and one reason we didn’t talk, would be my ex-girlfriends fault.”

Steve shouts, “I knew it!”, while you flutter your eyes closed. Breathing in, then out.

Last night. You decide, a little too late, that last night would’ve been a good idea to finish the argument. Wrap this cursed graduation party topic up, once and for all.

Instead, you gave into deep confessions and Eddie’s beautiful chocolate-button eyes, his light touches and the sensation of his lips on yours.

The group is chattering. They’re pressing Eddie for more details on what his hell-of-an ex did this time. He’s trying his best to fend them off: intentions may be innocent, but it’s none of their business. Unfortunately, he’s not having much luck.

Eventually, he cracks.

“I slept with her.”

Opening your eyes at that moment, you look at him again. His attention is already on you. Apologetic, sad.

“Well, duh, dude,” Robin begins, “You dated her. We kinda assumed you boinked.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Before,” he says, pauses. You can see him swallow his nerves. “The night of the graduation party.”

Silence stretches across the table.

And then you realise something.

You have to leave. Alone.

The flight to Vegas, and everything in between, cannot happen. How can you entertain the idea of falling for someone who, aside from wild confessions, doesn’t want to talk things through?

He too is always finding an exit strategy. Later, later, later. Eddie says later and nothing happens because there’s something different that gets in the way. His own excuses since he too is afraid to get hurt.

“Dude,” Steve begins, “That’s like…”

“It’s fine,” you chime. “That’s one of the things we actually did talk about. Not completely, but more than other stuff. ‘Cause we’ve done a lot of catching up, but uh, it’s all been very surface level.”

“Surface level?” Eddie asks in disbelief.

“Aside from Chrissy’s confession, we haven’t talked about anything real, Eddie.” You continue. “And we probably won’t because one of us will always find an excuse. Plus, there’s just too many other variables that make things difficult and as nice as this weekend has been,” you pause, heart hammering inside your chest, “We should stop kidding ourselves.”

His jaw locks into place.

“If that’s how you feel,” he says, monotone.

You nod, then blatantly lie. “That’s how I feel.”

Eddie stands. Chair sliding, falling backwards with force. He leaves before anyone else can add to the shitsorm that’s just transpired. Steve follows after his friend, shooting you an apologetic glance before he leaves. Robin and Nancy are suddenly on either side of you. The blonde telling you how she’s sorry for pushing this topic and the brunette reminding you that this doesn’t have to end. You freeze their voices out. Focusing on only one thing: the heartbreak in Eddie’s eyes as you spoke the words you didn’t mean.

Only a few seconds, you think, that’s all it ever takes to ruin a good thing.

After breakfast, you don’t care to stay much longer.

Itching instead, to get back to Fort Wayne. See your mom. Cry about everything while she hugs you. Maybe you’ll stay there a couple of days. Call in sick to work. Fake an emergency. Have her piece you back together. Maybe, while you’re with her, you’ll change your mind— No.

One by one, the group exchange goodbyes. Quick and long hugs. Promises of staying in touch. Some tears. A lot of pained laughter. 

Robin says she’ll call every day and she’ll see you soon, for her girlfriend's birthday bash.

Nancy reassures her and Jonathan will also plan a trip to see you, and once again tells you about the room at her future house with your name on it. You stifle a sniffle and embrace her for a second too long.

Jonathan offers some wisdom. The silent killer, Jonathan Byers. A man of very few words yet, as you have come to experience, they’re somehow always the right ones. His hug is quick and you appreciate that about him. No mushy things needed.

Argyle announces loud and proud how it’s been nice to meet you, get to know you. “Likewise,” you tell him honestly and exchange a fistbump.

Steve’s next on the goodbye train. This hug you don’t particularly want to let go of. His strong arms hold you tightly, as if he’s trying to take away all of your worries and pain. In a hushed whisper, he apologises for what happened earlier and says how he only wants you to be happy — a sentiment not so dissimilar to the first conversation you had together this weekend. You place a soft kiss on his cheek and tell him you love him, because it’s true. He smiles, forehead pressed to your own.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Platonically, the feeling is not as scary.

When you break apart, you glance between the group and a lump forms in your throat. These are the best people you have ever met and reconnecting with them this weekend is what really matters, at the end of the day.

This group, plus Eddie.

Because Eddie is currently not here. He didn’t come to say goodbye.

And as you stride down to your car, glancing over your shoulder one last time, at your friends, at the house, you feel a thousand times worse for wear.

Until the front door opens with a violent shake.

Eddie comes into view. He’s got a wild expression on his face as he barrels down the front porch steps, then the gravel which crunches underneath his sneakers.

He pushes through your mutual group of friends and doesn’t stop his pace until he’s face-to-face with you, peering down into your surprised eyes, slightly breathless.

“It’s not been surface level,” he says.

“Eddie,” you begin, but his thumb is suddenly pressed against your bottom lip and you stop dead in your tracks.

“I’ve been head over heels in love with you for a very long time, angel.” Eddie states, a nervous tick in his voice because you don’t do well with proclamations, but he’s not going to let you leave this time.

(Never. Again.)

“Long before this weekend, definitely over the last three years, and before the graduation party, before Billy. Probably, actually,” he swallows, “I’ve been in love with you since the very first time I saw you.”

Tears brim the corners of your eyes as the metal-head continues.

“And I know there’s a lot we haven’t talked about and a lot we need to figure out, but this thing we have, baby, I’ll be damned if I let you get in that car right now thinking that all we’ve done is surface level.”

“Eddie,” you try again.

He shakes his head. “Unless you’re going to tell me you’re staying to have a proper conversation, the one I owed you yesterday, I don’t want to hear it.”

Someone — Robin — shouts, “Kiss him, you fool.” and the rest of the group snickers. Well, Argyle and Steve snicker, while Jonathan and Nancy remprimend the lot.

Then they lead them back into the house, leaving you with this boy who is wildly in love with you, and who you perhaps love back, but how can you even begin to tell him that, since the last time you uttered those words, they were to someone who died.

“Please, angel.” Eddie pleads.

You open your mouth, then close it just as fast, chewing instead, on the inside of your cheek for what feels like eternity. In reality, it’s only a split-second while your brain works out what to do.

When you lean forward, inhaling his breath, his scent, him, you don’t intend to kiss him. You do anyway. Softly, tenderly.

And suddenly, your arms are around his neck and his hands are on your waist. He’s pinning you to the side of the car and his knee is wedged between your thighs. Your fingers pull his brunette locks and he bites your bottom lip, hungry, needy, pleading for something else entirely than a conversation.

“Okay,” you mutter against his parted lips, “Let’s talk.”

as always, thank you for reading & please support your writers by reblogging <3

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[flawssy-227]

All I Really Want To Do (part 1)

(ex) best friends dad!Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: It's been 10 years since you got betrayed by your best friend, graduated high school, and left Austin. After a serendipitous run in with Joel, you decide to be friends.

tags: 18+, female reader, always write for woc in mind, but there are no descriptions so everyone is welcome to read. tlou AU, no outbreak au, modern au, Sarah sucks (sorry), age gap ~20 yrs, reader is 28, Joel is ~50, infidelity (in past), Tommy and Maria flirting, no smut yet!

a/n: my first planned series on this blog! I hope y'all like this! pls leave comments and feedback if you enjoy <3 chapter 1 loosely inspired by All I Really Wanna Do

w/c: 4k

It was too early on a Sunday morning in Texas for this many people to be at hot yoga. Whatever happened to going to church? It was a new hobby of yours, one your coworker, Maria, had been dragging you to ever since you moved back to Austin. You were finally in shavasana, feeling relatively relaxed after moving through power moves for the last 45 minutes in 98 degree humidity. 

Once you had wrapped up and wiped down your mat, you and Maria were idly discussing which restaurant you can run to and grab a quick bite while you patiently waited for the crowd to clear away from the cubbies so you could grab your stuff and head out.

“There’s a diner down the block I haven’t tried,” Maria offered before nudging you with her elbow quickly. She leaned over to whisper in your ear as subtly as she could. “Don’t look now, but there’s a gorgeous man with dark, curly hair walking our way.”

You tried to play it cool for her sake. Maria swore this yoga studio was filled to the brim with attractive single men, but you weren’t sure if you were really interested at the moment. You had a lot to focus on with work and dating just for it to end in failure—again, was not ideal. You were determined to be a great wing woman, though.

The man quickly sidled up to Maria, asking her if she enjoyed the class and if she’d been coming here long before he introduced himself. You had kept your focus straight ahead, still waiting for everyone to clear away from the cubbies when you heard her introduce herself, and then you.

Turning to meet his gaze, your jaw couldn't help but drop. Staring back at you was Tommy Miller. Looking nearly the same as you remember from ten years ago. His hair was shorter than it used to be, no longer long enough for the bun he used to wear, but still jet black and tucked behind his ears. 

You heard him say your name, almost in disbelief before he reached out and tugged you into a bone crushing hug. “Dang darlin’, you grew up on me!”

You forced out a smile, trying not to let on how awkward you were feeling. You could feel Maria’s questioning gaze on you and you were not looking forward to explaining how you knew Tommy to her later. Before you could choke out a response, you saw Tommy look just over your shoulder.

“Joel! Look who I just ran into.”

You and Maria both turned around and you were met with the brown eyed gaze of Joel Miller. He was exactly how you remembered ten years ago, broad shouldered, tanned skin, and brown hair, albeit he had a few more greys mixed in now then he did all those years ago. He looked just as shocked to see you as you felt.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you said sheepishly.

Maria looked wide eyed at the incredibly soft way you spoke to Joel, Tommy just laughed and Joel blanched slightly.

He cleared his throat at your shy endearment. “Just Joel’s fine now, darlin’.” He was vaguely aware there was someone else standing next to you, but his focus was solely focused on you. It’s been a decade since he’s seen you, and you looked the same as you did back then, just more… fully formed, he supposed. “You’re back in Austin?”

You nodded your head. “Yeah, I’ve been back for about a month now,” you said shyly. “I’m working in the DA’s office. This is my friend Maria by the way,” you turned to introduce her but hadn’t noticed that she and Tommy had taken a few steps back and seemed to be in deep flirtatious conversation away from you and Joel.

“Didn’t take you for a hot yoga guy,” you said to Joel, trying not to gawk at his beefy arms. 

He chuckled at that, letting his hand run over the salt and pepper scruff over his face. Was he always this attractive?

“Yeah, it’s something new,” he told you. “Sarah was getting onto me about not exercising enough and Tommy dragged me here because he swears it’s a good place to meet women.” He met your eyes closely and looked away before he allowed his gaze to get too intense. “Not that that’s what I’m doin’ here,” he offered softly.

“Oh,” you quickly shook your head with a quiet laugh. “No judgement!”

Everyone had finally cleared out ahead of you and you were finally able to grab your phone and keys from the cubby. 

“A month, huh? Have you spoken to Sarah since you’ve been back?” he questioned.

You were happy you were facing away from him when he asked that, the answer was a definite no. But seeing Tommy and talking to Joel was nice and familiar, you didn’t want to ruin it, so you just grabbed Maria’s things along with yours before you turned around and gave him a polite smile. You quickly shoved her things into her hands, effectively cutting off her conversation with Tommy. “We’ve got reservations,” you responded. “Nice to see you both.” You gave them a wave and pulled Maria out of the studio by her hand and briskly walked as far away from the studio as quickly as you could.

The Miller brothers watched you and Maria power walk your way across downtown Austin.

“Well, she grew up,” Tommy said.

Joel nodded, unable to verbally respond. You sure did.

Maria barely waited until you had your first sip of coffee before she was grilling you about how you knew the Millers.

“You didn’t have a thing with either of them, did you?” she asked. Your jaw dropped at the question. “Please tell me it wasn’t Tommy!”

“Oh my God, are you into him?” you laughed.

“Answer the question,” she responded, quickly putting on her lawyer voice.

You took a deep breath and rolled your eyes. “No, I didn’t have a thing with either of them. It seemed like you and Tommy hit it off, though.”

Maria couldn’t resist the dreamy look that fell over her face. “You have no idea. He’s such a charmer.” You matched her smile, thrilled your friend had some romance on the horizon. “He asked me to get drinks tomorrow night!”

You squealed across the table with her. “That’s such good news! Honestly, Maria, he’s always been such a good guy. I think you’ll enjoy yourself.”

Maria nodded, taking a moment to push her excitement aside. “But how do you know them? Seriously, my mind is in the gutter.”

You shook your head. “Okay,” you sighed. “It’s nothing crazy, I just grew up with Joel’s daughter, Sarah. We were besties,” you said with a scoff. 

Maria furrowed her brows, and noticed your tone. “And what? You guys had a falling out or something?”

You mumbled over the rim of your coffee cup. “That’s an understatement.”

“C’mon,” Maria whined. “Stop edging me. I need all the details.”

You rolled your eyes at her almost carnal need to gossip, but you couldn’t be too annoyed—you were the same way. It’s why she had become such a close friend over the short month since you’d known her.

So you told her all about you and Sarah. How your family moved to Austin when you were in sixth grade and you had never felt more lonely at leaving your old friends behind until you met Sarah Miller in homeroom. You became fast friends, inseparable in the way that only 11 year old girls can be, and soon you did everything together. She convinced you to join soccer with her, you convinced her to do debate club with you. There were countless sleepovers, infinite secrets shared and a multitude of tears spilt between you two. She told you about her mom leaving when she was little. You told her having one loving parent was better than two neglectful ones. She was more than just your best friend. She was your sister.

And then you started high school. The distance was uncomfortable for you at first. You quit soccer and joined drama club. She decided she was never really that into debate. You were still each other's closest friends, but now you both had other friends and hobbies that increased the ever growing chasm between you two.

When your parents finally stopped fighting and divorced, Sarah was there for you just like she was when you were 11. And so was Dylan, your boyfriend. You were happy in your little circle of three until the end of highschool with your best friend closer than ever and the cutest boy in school as your first everything. And then one day that spring, you got off the waitlist for Southern Methodist University. You got in. Dylan didn’t.

Sarah was unusually quiet during those last few months of highschool, always busy and rarely answering texts. You chalked it up to AP exams and the anxiety of leaving Joel behind. Dylan was being weird too, though. You knew he was jealous that you got into his dream school, but he was your boyfriend, he should be happy for you. And you knew you could make long distance work, you just needed to hash out the details with Sarah. 

You figured you would just pop over to the Miller residence and bring Sarah her favorite cookies as a bribe so she would listen to you talk about your relationship drama. You let yourself in with the spare key, just like you always did and called out for her. You could hear her in the house, and it had never been an issue before, so you just made your way to her bedroom. You remember the hot tears falling down your face when you saw them. Sarah was your best friend, your sister. And she was fucking your boyfriend behind your back.

Maria’s jaw dropped. “You caught them?” she asked incredulously.

“Yup.” You were done with breakfast now and waiting for your server to drop off the checks.

“That is not where I thought this story was going.” Maria shook her head, mostly to herself and looked lost in thought. “So Tommy has a slutty niece?”

You bit back a laugh at that. “I wouldn’t call her a slut. Just a really bad fucking friend.”

As you dropped some cash in the checkbook you realized you weren’t done talking about them. “You wanna know the kicker? This all went down like two weeks before prom. And those assholes went together! I had my dress and everything but I ended up just skipping it and watched 13 Going on 30 with my mom.”

“That is fucking vile. Those two deserve some bad karma.”

You hummed in agreement. There wasn’t much left to say 10 years after the most devastating heartbreak you had ever experienced, but it was out there again. You figured if you should open up to anyone it should be Maria.

“You know what you should do?” she said with a smirk, not waiting for you to even say what? in response. “You should fuck her dad. Joel, right?”

You look horrified. Fuck Mr. Miller? “No way. Maria, he’s like 50.” You shake away the way too intrusive image of you and Mr. Miller together. “I’ve known him since I was a kid!”

“Not a kid,” she shrugs. “Just a teenager right?”

You nod and she just continues. “Was he ever, you know, weird with you?”

“God no!” Your eyes are wide and you can’t help the tingly feeling you get at the thought of you and Joel and how it won’t go away. “I barely saw the guy. He worked so much back then. Honestly, I was around Tommy way more than Joel.”

“So, he’s good with kids?” Maria practically beams at the mention of Tommy and you wish you could roll your eyes at her, but it’s actually pretty sweet how smitten she is with him already. She waves you away before you can answer. “Doesn’t matter. Look, Joel wasn’t looking at you like you were some kid that grew up with his daughter. He was totally checking you out. And it’s been a full 10 years since you’ve seen him? I doubt he sees you as a kid. And it’s hardly weird.”

You guess she’s right but still, you can’t help but grimace at the thought. Of course you thought Joel was attractive. You may have had a mild crush on both Miller brother’s when you were 17 but you chalked it up to the fact that your dad had just left and Dylan was being a childish asshole.

“Look, I’m not saying that you should literally have sex with the man, but how fucking horrified would Sarah be when she finds out you’re hanging around her dad? She fucked your high school boyfriend and you get to play step mom. It’s karma, babe.”

You thought about what Maria said for the rest of the day and well into the night. You weren’t a vengeful person, but if you were being honest, that deep, spiteful part of you that you tried to push down came alight at the simple idea of getting back at Sarah. You were over Dylan. Of course you were. It’s been 10 years of college and law school and jobs and boyfriends and it’s not like you really thought the two of you would end up together. But Sarah? She really broke your heart in a way that only a best friend could. It still hurts to think about.

Joel probably wouldn’t even be interested in me, you think to yourself. “What a dumb fuckin’ idea,” you mumble as you sit up in bed and open Facebook. You’re gonna look Joel Miller up and just see if he’s in a relationship, and then maybe if he’s single you’ll think about what Maria suggested a little more seriously.

And maybe it was a sign, something straight from the universe, that the first thing you saw when you opened Facebook was a bright red notification: Joel Miller sent you a message!

Monday morning in the DA’s office was nothing unusual. You were already two coffees deep at 10 AM and trying to focus on the research you were doing for an impending case when Maria perched herself on the edge of your desk.

“Stop frowning so much, you’re gonna get wrinkles.”

You dropped your hand from your head and gave her the widest, fake smile you could muster before dropping it with an eye roll.

“It’s too early in the day for all that attitude.”

You frowned at her comment. “Look, sorry, but I’m trying to focus on work. It’s my first case here and I need to be prepared. Not trying to have an attitude,” you mumbled at the end.

Maria tuts at you, nodding in mock sympathy that makes you want to roll your eyes and walk away from her. She wants something, you realize.

“You’re stressed,” she notes, as if this is something she just noticed. “Let’s get a drink after work.”

A low unease curled in your stomach. Why did the offer of getting drinks after work seem weighted? You didn’t know Maria that well, but your friendship had been steadily developing. One thing you knew for sure about her though? She was meddlesome. Always conspiring and persistent when she wanted to be. Toeing the line between annoying and clever. It was what made her a great attorney, but you weren’t sure if you liked being on the receiving end of her attention.

“What are you up to?” you questioned.

Maria raised her brows at you, silently daring you to figure her out. “Nothing. I want to go to this new bar after work.”

“What bar?”

“Mean Eyed Cat.”

You ticked your jaw at that. “Right.” You’d never been but you knew that bar and you knew two regulars who mentioned it pretty often 10 years ago. “You want to go to Tommy and Joel’s favorite bar? Why? Just to see if you can run into them again?”

Maria’s grin was massive as she looked down at you. She was practically buzzing with excitement now that you’d practically figured her out.

“Tommy invited me to meet him around 6,” she started. “And then I suggested he bring Joel and I bring you…”

“What?” you couldn’t control the volume of your voice as you snapped at her. “Maria, please tell me you’re joking? I-I can’t go on a double date with Joel and Tommy Miller.”

She was completely unaffected by your reaction and just pushed herself off the corner of your desk. Standing fully, she looked at you a beat too long. “You can, and you will. C’mon, you don’t want Joel to be a third wheel, do you?”

Your day was pretty much shot to hell after Maria told, not asked, that you were going to get drinks with her, Tommy and Joel after work. You were feeling incredibly uneasy about the whole situation and you wondered what Joel was thinking, and if Tommy had a similar approach to drag him to the bar. Wait, does he feel like he’s being dragged here? Or is he excited to see me?

The bar was only a 10 minute walk from your office and you and Maria decided fresh air would be good before you went to the bar. She was talking idly beside you, something about one of her more challenging clients, when you saw him. He was getting out of the passenger side of Tommy’s truck. Tall and familiar, that bronzed skin you’d been thinking about since yesterday on display under his grey t-shirt, veiny forearms on view as he slid his phone in his jeans pocket. You almost smiled at the tight line his mouth was in, frowning down at the sidewalk like it personally offended him before he looked up, undoubtedly feeling your eyes on him. His face softened just a bit when he saw you and you offered him a weak smile in return. 

Tommy and Maria immediately floated to each other on the sidewalk and fell into easy conversation. If you didn’t know any better, you would think they’d known each other for much longer than a day. You let Joel pull you in for an awkward side hug and let his woodsy scent comfort you. You closed your eyes for a second and just let yourself take it all in; the warm, balmy Texas night, the firm embrace of Joel, the leathery musk that floated to your nose at his nearness. It all gave you a sense of relief. This whole situation would be fine, you realized. It was just Joel, and while you definitely didn’t know the man, you knew he was kind and trustworthy and probably feeling just as awkward as you were to be grabbing drinks with his daughter's friend from high school.

Everything was going incredibly smoothly. Tommy and Maria were getting married, you had decided. Watching their easy banter and the wide-eyed way they were looking at each other during everyone’s first round just confirmed it. Conversations on first dates had never been that easy for you, and you were happy you were able to witness it, at least. They pretty much dominated the discussion at the table, you and Joel laughing with them and contributing occasionally, but mostly just taking a back seat. It was so easy, and you realized maybe Maria wanted you here for moral support, it being her first date after getting over her breakup and all. You decided you wouldn’t kill her for forcing you to come here.

After one particularly longing stare, Tommy cleared his throat and looked down at the mostly empty glasses. “Can I get everyone another round?” he asked.

You were tempted to leave and call it a night, but a quick thigh squeeze from Maria deterred you. “I’ll do one more,” you offered with a not so subtle eye roll to her.

Joel grunted in acknowledgement as Maria offered herself to help carry the glasses back. And just like that, they were off, leaving you and Joel alone in the booth.

“Well, they’re gettin’ on like a house on fire.”

You smiled at that. “They are. Tommy’s always been great and she deserves a good guy. It’s funny to see him all smitten so quickly.”

Joel meets your gaze and you can’t help but stutter out a shallow breath at how attentive he looks when you’re speaking.

“I sent you a message on Facebook,” he says, leaning forward across the booth.

You look in his eyes softly. “I saw.”

“You didn’t respond.”

You shrug and shake your head. “No, I didn’t.”

The question is there, but he doesn’t have to ask it before you speak again. “Didn’t open it. Was scared, I guess.”

At this, Joel laughs, leaning away from you. “Nothin’ scary in that message, darlin’.” He pauses, and then nervously scratches at that grey and brown scruff of his. “It was just nice seeing you yesterday, is all.”

Joel’s back looking at you again, that intense gaze he seems to fall into quickly making you shiver. “It was nice seeing you too.”

“Yeah?” a small smile breaks across his face. “You ran off pretty quick.”

It makes you ache, looking at how relaxed he looks with a smile. You kinda feel bad for running off so quickly now that you know it bothered him. Joel and Tommy are harsh reminders of Sarah and that time back in high school when she betrayed you, but you’re an adult now. Your new best friend is probably going to start dating Tommy and you know he and Joel are a package deal, the same way you and Maria are. You can’t hold your distaste of Sarah over Joel’s head, and honestly, you don’t want to. Joel is kind and earnest, and you feel a sense of peace around him now that those awkward initial interactions are out of the way. You decide right then, you won’t fuck him to get back at Sarah or whatever cockamamie scheme Maria had been cooking up. You will move on, be a big girl and develop your own friendship with Joel and Tommy.

You finish the last dregs of your lukewarm beer and offer Joel a sheepish smile. “You’re right, I did run off. Kinda rude, huh?”

He clears his throat and pins you with an easy look. “Nah, not rude. Just made me feel bad. Like I made you uncomfortable or somethin’.”

He looks down at his own glass and you see the contemplative furrow of his brow. It makes you feel terrible. You frown and without thinking, reach for his hand. “It wasn’t you, or Tommy. It was just… Sarah.” You let your hand rest over his for just a moment longer, letting the heat radiating off of it comfort you before you removed it.

Joel swallows nervously, pinning his stare at his now lonely hand. “My Sarah?”

You nodded. “She… Just seeing y’all and hearing her name brought up some not so good memories. That’s why I ran off so quickly.”

Joel looks confused at that. He supposes he did know you two had some sort of fight towards the end of Sarah’s senior year. He remembered when Dylan showed up to take her to prom and you weren’t there, and how you were also missing at her graduation party a few weeks later. She wouldn’t open up to him though and eventually, he guesses you just slipped his mind.

“What happened between the two of you?”

Your mouth parts a bit in surprise. “She never told you?”

“No,” he says quickly.

You swallow and Joel notes how contemplative you look now. Nothing like the easy grin you had a few moments ago. Whatever happened, he realized, is still a sore subject for you.

You look up and pin him with a smirk that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “You should ask her.”

Before Joel can ask any follow up questions, Maria and Tommy slide back into the booth and drop off your second round. You feel incredibly at ease, much more relaxed than you were when you had first arrived. You fall into conversation with the group a bit easier, and you try to act normal when you look at Joel and see him staring back at you.

Tommy all but insists you two hop in the backseat of his pickup so you don’t have to walk back to your office so late. You’re fairly certain he just wants to extend his time with Maria, but you express gratitude at the fact you don’t have to walk 10 minutes in heels again. 

Once you are back at the District Attorney's office, you and Joel allow Tommy and Maria some space as he walks her to her car. Joel is quiet, but it’s nice and peaceful, not uncomfortable. 

Joel clears his throat and you look up at him, just to once again, see him staring back at you. “Can I take you to lunch sometime this week?”

Your head is spinning and you swear your mind goes blank. Lunch? With Mr. Miller? You’re spiraling as your steps slow down to an almost stop, like your brain can’t compute what Joel is asking and how to walk at the same time.

“Just as friends,” he offers, clearly trying to tread lightly based on your lack of reaction. 

“You want to take me to lunch?” you ask. “With Tommy and Maria?”

Joel smirks, a little maddening considering how flustered you are just thinking about lunch.

“Nah, just us.”

You noticed the heated stare he’s giving you, the way he subtly licks his bottom lip and the magnetic pull as he inches closer to you. He knows exactly what he’s doing. 

You realize then, that Joel Miller is a liar. Just friends? Yeah right.

“Okay,” you muster all of your confidence and give him the flirtiest smile you can muster. “Let’s get lunch. But Joel?” 

Joel hums, a cheeky grin on his face while he waits for you to continue speaking. His smile falters slightly when you take a tiny step closer to him and press onto your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. He can feel your warm breath like a caress on the side of his neck. He can smell the citrus and amber from your perfume. You’re overtaking his senses completely and when he hears you speak again, he swears his heart skips a beat.

“We’re not gonna be friends.”

thanks for reading!

[bobfloydsbabe]

the only painkiller i need | bob reynolds x oc

SUMMARY: Bob Reynolds meets the nurse assigned to take care of him and finds himself smitten.

WARNINGS: nurse!oc, inaccurate medical stuff, discussions of food and lack of appetite, touch starved bob, one vague smut reference. strictly 18+/minors dni

WORD COUNT: 2k

A/N: Lewis was so damn good in Thunderbolts that I simply could not help myself, so here I am with my first Bob Reynolds fic. Enjoy!

CREDIT: In fic divider by @saradika-graphics

His eyes flutter open, struggling to adjust to the lights above his head. He’s in the same large bed as last time he woke up, still wearing a grey sweatshirt, but something’s tugging at the skin of his hand.

He casts his eyes to the left and finds there’s someone in the room with him. It’s not that dark-haired woman from before. Valerie, he thinks her name was. No, this is someone else. A nurse, he realizes. She’s young, probably around his age, and she’s humming. The tune is unfamiliar but pleasant. It settles his nerves somewhat. She’s fiddling with an IV bag, maybe checking if the dosage is correct.

She hasn’t noticed he’s awake yet, so he turns his head a little and watches her for a moment. She’s wearing navy blue scrubs, a cream white long-sleeved top underneath for warmth, probably because it’s cold in the facility. She wears a small gold watch around her wrist, and a gold ring with a spiral design adorns her slender index finger.

“Where is she?”

The nurse screams. Actually screams. Her hands fly up to cover her mouth, her pale skin going pink as she turns to look at him. Her wide eyes are somewhere between blue and green, and the blush makes her freckles stand out. They’re all over.

“Mr. Reynolds, you scared me.” She says, removing her hands from her mouth and pressing one against her chest where her heart is likely beating rapidly. Her lips are parted, breathing heavily.

“Sorry,” he mutters and looks away. Her eyes are too intense. “Where’s the woman?”

He’s not looking at her, but he senses her confusion. “Valentina?” He nods. That was her name, not Valerie. “She’s working on something else right now.”

He nods again. Tries to wring his hands, but something pulls at his skin, making him hiss. He looks down and finds a needle stuck in his vein and tape on top. He glances up at the nurse, who is typing something on a tablet.

“What’s this?” He asks and lifts his hand a little.

She looks at him with a warm smile that immediately sets him at ease. He tries to smile back, but he must be messing it up if the deepening crease between her brows is anything to go by.

“It’s just fluids,” she answers and sets the tablet down, turning to give him her full attention. “You’re dehydrated and a little anemic. I’m treating with an IV for hydration and an iron supplement to get your hemoglobin levels up.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t meet her eyes. Instead, he’s looking at her hair. It’s not red but not quite blonde either, and the strands of her braids alternate color in the woven pattern. It looks like the early morning sky when the sun’s just about to break over the horizon.

She looks at her tablet some more, checking things off and writing notes. He can’t stop staring and every time their eyes meet, he quickly looks away, but he can see her smiling in his periphery. 

“Alright,” she says after a few minutes of this. “You’re all set. I’ll be back with something to eat and the iron supplement. It’s important you take it, Mr. Reynolds.”

He grimaces. Being called Mr. Reynolds makes him feel wrong, too much like his father. Bob sees her head tilt to the side, eyes trained on him, but she doesn’t say anything. Shaking her head slightly, she gathers her tablet and stethoscope and goes to leave. Her hand reaches for the door, and just as her fingertips touch the handle, his voice carries across the room.

“Wait!”

He flinches at the sound, unintentionally loud and desperate. She turns around to face him, but where he expected to see fear, he only sees concern. She’s smiling at him again and he feels a little unsteady.

“What’s your name?”

Her smile widens, and it’s like the sun after a long storm. It lights up the room more than the yellow glow of the lamps, making something in his stomach flutter and his cheeks feel warm.

“Andie,” she tells him. “Well, Andromeda, but it’s a mouthful, so everyone just calls me Andie.”

“Andie,” he says, trying it out and liking the way it rolls off his tongue. It suits her, he thinks.

“I’m Bob.” He inwardly cringes, hating how awkward and small his own voice sounds, but Andie doesn’t seem to notice or mind. She looks straight into his eyes and still her smile doesn’t falter.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bob.”

He’s not sure how much time passes, but she comes back like she promised.

She nudges the door open with her hip and comes in carrying a tray heaped with an assortment of food. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I got a bit of everything.”

He watches her set the tray down on the table between two comfortable-looking chairs and then almost panics when she starts to leave.

“Please stay!”

He cringes again. This is the second time in as many meetings that he’s shouted at her from across the room. She must think he’s a weirdo, and the thought of that makes him want to crawl under the covers and never come back out. But he forces himself to look up and meet her eyes.

Somehow, she’s still here and smiling at him. “Please,” he begs pathetically. “Please stay. I could use some company.”

She grins, and it’s like looking at the sun. “I was just closing the door.”

Heat flushes his cheeks. “Oh.”

She closes the door and crosses back to the table, taking a seat in the chair closest to her. Bob hesitates. Something about Valentina made his skin itch, but he feels none of that with Andie and he’s not sure why. A part of him doesn’t trust it, but he joins her. His appetite is questionable, but he knows he needs sustenance.

The tray is filled with all kinds of breakfast food. A stack of fluffy pancakes with a small jug of maple syrup to pour over it, chopped fruit, and a pile of toasted bread with various spread offerings. Juice and coffee too, if the smell of dark roast is anything to go by. His eyes catch on the tiny paper cup that he instantly recognizes, making his stomach drop.

Andie must notice. “It’s the iron supplement for anemia that we talked about,” she tells him. “It’s going to help with some of the dizziness and disorientation. I would never give you something that we hadn’t already discussed.”

Bob looks from the pill cup and up at her. Her face is serious. “You promise?”

The corners of her mouth turn up. “I promise.” He believes her. “Now, dig in.”

He reaches for the orange juice and the little red pill first. He stares at it for a moment, feeling conflicted, but then he looks at Andie, who’s pouring coffee for herself, and he realizes he trusts her. He has no reason to, but he does. So, he tosses the pill in his mouth and downs it with the juice.

He puts the glass down and looks at Andie. “Do you need to check if I’ve swallowed?”

Her eyes widen at the same time as a flush colors her cheeks, and for a second he’s confused until it dawns on him exactly what he said.

His eyes widen, matching hers perfectly. “I meant the pill,” he clarifies, wringing his hands but hissing at the pull on his skin from the IV that’s still in his hand. “I meant if I’d swallowed the pill, not… that. Or anything else. Just the pill.” He’s panic rambling. It’s happened before, but not in the presence of the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. The woman who still hasn’t said a word, but whose cheeks aren’t just pink anymore, but a shade of bright red.

He deflates. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, fully prepared for her to leave and never speak to him again. His silly heart already aches with longing.

“Bob, look at me.” He reluctantly meets her eyes. They look green right now. “It’s okay, I’m sorry too. My thoughts should not have gone there.”

He’s confused. She’s not upset? She’s apologizing to him?

“Hey,” she says, voice softer this time. “I trust you to take the medication we’ve agreed on. I don’t need to check.”

Relief floods his system, leaving him temporarily lightheaded. She looks so genuine, and she’s the first person in a long time who’s let him feel in control of what goes into his body and what doesn’t. That level of autonomy feels foreign, but he doesn’t hate it.

He likes it. He likes that Andie gave it to him.

They eat in companionable silence. Bob eats half a piece of toast with butter and a few grapes, while Andie piles her plate with pancakes, fruit, and two pieces of toast. She drinks a class of orange juice and a second cup of coffee with a splash of milk.

“Not hungry?” she asks after a while, holding a hand in front of her mouth as she chews. There’s no judgement in the way she looks at him.

He shrugs. “Not really.”

Andie hums and straightens her back. “I’ll let it slide,” she tells him and wipes her mouth with a napkin. “But when I come back later, I expect you to eat more. You need to build up your strength.”

“Valentina says I’m already strong.” He sounds pathetic even to his own ears. Like a child.

Andie’s full lips press together in a thin line. “Valentina says a lot of things,” she mutters, disdain in her voice, though he senses it’s not directed at him. She reaches across the table and tray, grasping his hand without the IV and notices her hand is so much smaller than his. There are freckles on it just like the ones on her face. He wants to trace them with his fingertips. With his lips too.

She looks right into his eyes, making him audibly swallow. “You are strong, Bob,” she assures him, voice sincere and intense. “But there’s a difference between superpower strong and normal healthy strength. I’m here to help with the second part.”

The skin on his hand tingles and his body feels hot all over. He stares down at their hands, turning his hand over so her palm meets his. He expects her to pull back, but she doesn’t, and when he lifts his gaze to her, her pretty lips are parted.

For a moment, they just look at each other. Bob watches color flush her cheeks and the strands of wavy hair that have come loose from her braids. She’s watching him too, but he doesn’t shy away from it like he normally would.

She offers him a soft smile, then stands and gestures to the tray. “All done?” He nods, standing too.

His heart races as she rearranges things on the breakfast tray. He can hear the blood pumping through his veins as his pulse quickens. He doesn’t want her to go. He doesn’t want to be alone again, alone with his thoughts. The self-doubt that’s been his constant companion since childhood is mostly quiet when she’s in the room.

“Alright,” she says and hoists the tray up in her arms, completely oblivious to Bob’s internal crisis. “I’ll be back a bit later to check on your IV. Can I get you to open the door for me?”

“Sure,” he mumbles and shuffles past her, arm brushing against her shoulder. Even the quick touch through clothing sends a jolt of electricity up his spine. He grabs the handle and pulls the door open.

“Thank you.” She stops next to him and offers him a smile. “And thank you for having breakfast with me.”

It sounds like a date when she puts it like that, and even though he knows that’s ridiculous, it makes heat rush to his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

He tucks his chin against his chest and mutters a low, “you’re welcome.”

She disappears out the door, taking what little light there was in the room with her.

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[empressdede]

Never Ending - 2

This was originally supposed to be a two shot, but then I kept writing so…😭 maybe a four part mini series 🤣🫶🏾

Ciera was halfway through taking her notes in Chemistry when the words group project came out of Mr. Langston’s mouth. She didn’t flinch, didn’t groan like the rest of the class. She simply clicked her pen, already bracing for whatever random partner fate would assign her.

She wasn’t prepared for him.

“Jonathan Fatu and Ciera Monroe,” Mr. Langston read off.

Her head snapped up.

Jon looked back over his shoulder at her, eyes narrowing like he was trying not to grin. “Hey, partner.”

Ciera blinked slowly. “I’m switching seats.”

“Nope,” Mr. Langston said without looking up. “No trades. Sit next to your partner, Fatu.”

Jon slung his backpack over one shoulder and strolled over like he owned the world. His hair had gotten longer since middle school, always tied back in a loose bun, and he wore that same cocky smirk like it was stitched into his DNA.

He flopped down beside her. “Miss me?”

“Like I miss extra homework.”

He chuckled. “Still quick with the comebacks.”

Ciera angled her body away just slightly. “Still allergic to taking anything seriously?”

“Only things that don’t involve you.”

She shot him a look. “Do you even know what the project is?”

“Something about acids and bases,” he said, waving vaguely toward the board. “I figured you’d do the smart stuff and I’d carry the supplies.”

“That’s not how this is gonna work.”

He leaned closer, voice dipping into that teasing tone that always made her ears heat. “You sure? ’Cause I remember you used to love bossing me around.”

Ciera stiffened.

It had been almost two years since they’d really talked. Since that slow dance in eighth grade, interrupted too soon. Since Sadé pulled her away, and Jon just grinned like he didn’t care. And then high school happened. Jon joined the football team, got louder, funnier, became everybody’s favorite. Ciera drifted into AP classes, study groups, a quiet lane of her own making.

They’d passed each other in halls—shared a few classes. The teasing never stopped. But the closeness? That had faded.

Until now.

“You gonna write anything down?” she asked, opening her notebook.

He pulled out a pencil from behind his ear. “Depends. You gonna yell at me if I mess it up?”

“Depends. You planning to try?”

He grinned. “There she is.”

They started working—sort of. Ciera outlined the hypothesis, while Jon fiddled with the pH strips like they were toy swords.

“Jon,” she warned, “you’re gonna contaminate the samples.”

“Relax, Doc Monroe. I know what I’m doing.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Since when?”

“Since always. I just let you think you were the brains.”

She smirked. “You let me?”

“Mmhmm.”

She shook her head and focused on the worksheet. For a moment, the silence settled—but not comfortably. Not yet.

Then Jon said, casually, “Remember that science fair in sixth grade?”

Ciera blinked. “The one where you tried to make a volcano and it exploded on the principal?”

He laughed, head thrown back. “Hey, I maintain that was a successful reaction.”

“You nearly blinded Ms. Carter.”

“She shouldn’t have been that close.”

“You put vinegar in the wrong chamber.”

“You still remember all that?” he asked, tone softer.

Ciera looked at him. “I remember a lot of things.”

He tilted his head, studying her. “Yeah… me too.”

The words lingered, heavier than she expected.

She cleared her throat, going back to the paper. “So we need three acids and three bases to test with litmus. You wanna grab the materials?”

“You asking me to do actual work?”

“I’m asking you to do your share.”

Jon stood, mock saluting. “Yes, ma’am.”

As he walked away, Ciera let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. He hadn’t changed much—not really. Still charming, still annoying. Still able to make her smile when she didn’t want to.

He returned with the samples, sliding back into his seat like he hadn’t just made her heart beat too fast.

“All right, scientist,” he said. “Let’s make some color magic.”

Ciera dipped the first strip. “You ever think about that dance?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Eighth grade. Middle school dance. You asked me to come.”

Jon leaned back in his chair, arms folded. “You came.”

“You asked.”

“Barely.”

“You asked,” she said again, watching his face carefully.

He grinned. “Okay, maybe I did. But you were the one staring at me the whole night.”

“Was not.”

“Were too.”

“You’re delusional.”

“You were about to kiss me.”

“You leaned in first!”

“I was being polite!”

“Oh my God, polite?” she laughed.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes sparkling. “Didn’t want to catch a slap if I misread.”

Ciera smiled despite herself. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Jon sat forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Real talk… you think we would’ve worked?”

Ciera blinked. The question came out of nowhere. “Back then?”

He nodded.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “We were kids.”

He shrugged. “Yeah… but we had something. Didn’t we?”

Her eyes searched his face. “Maybe. Maybe we still do.”

Jon leaned a little closer. “You saying you still like me, Monroe?”

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks burned. “I’m saying… I remember what it felt like when we danced.”

His grin softened. “I remember too.”

They sat in the stillness of that moment, the rest of the classroom fading into background noise.

Then she spoke again, quieter this time. “What happened to us?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Life. You went one way. I went another.”

“You got popular.”

“You got serious.”

“We drifted,” she said.

“But we didn’t forget.”

Their eyes met again—this time, with something older and deeper between them.

Then, of course, Jon broke the tension.

“So you gonna admit you liked me first or what?”

Ciera scoffed. “Me? Please. You were obsessed with me in seventh grade.”

“Says the girl who used to write my name in her notebook.”

She gasped. “Lies!”

“I saw it. Big heart around it and everything.”

“Jon!”

He laughed, full and unbothered. “You really used to blush every time I sat near you.”

“And you used to throw spitballs at me in homeroom.”

“Because I liked you!”

“Oh my God,” she groaned, covering her face.

Jon reached out and gently tugged her hand away. “I still like you, you know.”

She froze.

He said it so easily, so confidently. No joke behind it. Just words, plain and simple.

“I don’t know if you still like me,” he added, “but if you do… I’d want to find out what that looks like. For real.”

Ciera stared at him, heart pounding.

This wasn’t middle school anymore. They weren’t dancing in a decorated gym with streamers and slow songs. They were older, messier, still figuring it out.

But maybe, just maybe, they still had that spark.

“You’re not just saying that because you don’t wanna fail Chemistry, right?” she teased, voice trembling slightly.

He laughed, shaking his head. “I mean… that’s a bonus.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away when his fingers brushed hers again.

“Wanna finish this project first,” she said, “before we plan our wedding?”

Jon grinned. “So that’s a yes?”

She didn’t answer—not directly. Just dipped the next strip in the solution and smiled when it turned a bright blue.

“Looks like a strong base,” she said.

Jon looked at her, amused. “Like your flirting game?”

“Like your chances if you keep running your mouth.”

He leaned back, satisfied. “God, I missed this.”

Ciera finally looked at him, soft and open. “Yeah. Me too.”

⸻⸻

The final bell echoed through the school like a sigh of relief.

Ciera was one of the few students who didn’t rush the hallways like a prison break. Instead, she moved with quiet precision, slipping down the corridor past the main exit, toward her locker. Her backpack was heavier than usual—Mr. Langston’s chemistry project meant hauling a textbook the size of a microwave, and there was no way she was lugging that home.

She rounded the corner and reached her locker, the metal cool beneath her fingertips. Twisting the combination, she popped it open and began sorting through her books.

A small part of her—okay, maybe a medium part—kept replaying the project period with Jon.

The way he looked at her. How his voice had gone soft when he said, “I still like you.”

She hadn’t expected that. Not from Jonathan Fatu—the boy who used to dunk paper balls in her hair and laugh when she got detention for talking back. The boy who danced with her in eighth grade and almost kissed her under the glow of cafeteria fairy lights.

Now here he was again. Same mischief in his eyes, but older. Bolder. And, apparently, still interested.

She shook her head. Don’t read into it. He’s always joking.

Just as she placed her Chemistry book on the top shelf, a voice slid into her ear like silk.

“So… did you miss me already?”

She flinched, spinning around. Jon leaned against the neighboring locker like a scene out of some teenage rom-com—arms folded, hair pulled back, grin in place.

“Do you practice being this annoying or does it just come naturally?” she asked, hand over her chest.

“I’ve been gifted since birth.”

Ciera rolled her eyes, stuffing a notebook into the locker. “What do you want, Jon?”

He raised his eyebrows, playful. “Straight to the point. I like that.”

“Because I have a life outside of entertaining you.”

“Ouch.” He clutched his heart. “That one actually hurt.”

She gave him a smirk and shut her locker. “Then I’m doing it right.”

But Jon didn’t flinch. Didn’t take the bait and leave like he usually did after a round of back-and-forth.

Instead, he stayed.

Leaned in just a bit.

“Actually,” he said, his voice a little quieter, “I wanted to ask you something.”

Ciera tilted her head. “Oh?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was thinking about what I said earlier… maybe it’s time I finally take you out.”

She blinked.

“On a real date,” he added. “Like dinner or something. Not just projects and playful insults.”

For a second, she didn’t say anything. Her fingers curled around her bag strap, mind racing. Part of her had waited for this. The other part? Terrified to ruin the rhythm they had—this teasing, electric pull that always hovered between friendship and something more.

“Wow,” she said slowly. “You’re actually asking me out?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Ciera raised an eyebrow. “No jokes? No double-dare from your friends? You sure this isn’t some kind of bet?”

He chuckled. “You think I need a dare to ask you out?”

“Considering the last time you tried, we were thirteen and you ran off before Sadé could roast you—yes.”

Jon laughed, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m serious this time.”

Ciera leaned back against the row of lockers, arms crossing loosely. “That’s new.”

“I figured if I kept waiting, someone else might get to you first.”

“Now that’s more like you—territorial and late.”

“But honest,” he said, stepping closer.

She looked up at him, the teasing slowly slipping from her features, replaced with something gentler. “I’ll think about it.”

Jon blinked. “You’ll think about it?”

“Mmhmm.”

“You’re breaking my heart, Monroe.”

“Good. Builds character.”

He exhaled, leaning in until they were barely a foot apart. “Okay, fine. I’ll make you a deal.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Oh God.”

“Relax,” he laughed. “Just this: I’ll call you tonight. You answer me then.”

Ciera tilted her head. “Call me?”

“You do still have a phone, right? Or did you evolve into one of those people who only communicates through passive-aggressive glances?”

“You’re one to talk,” she muttered.

“So is that a yes?” he asked, smiling. “You’ll pick up?”

She paused, lips tugging upward. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Depends on how annoying your voicemail is.”

He laughed again, louder this time. “So that’s a yes. You’ll answer.”

She slung her bag over her shoulder. “Don’t get cocky, Fatu.”

Jon stood straighter, brushing imaginary dust off his hoodie. “Too late. I’ve already planned our wedding.”

Ciera rolled her eyes so hard it might’ve given her a headache. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you like me anyway.”

She started to walk off, throwing over her shoulder, “I’ll deny it in court.”

He called after her, “I’ll have witnesses!”

And just like that, they slipped back into their rhythm. But underneath it—woven between every joke and jab—was something undeniable.

A pull.

She was halfway down the hall, smiling despite herself, when a familiar voice called out.

“Ciera!”

She turned to see Sadé jogging toward her, her braids bouncing as she waved. “Girl, wait up!”

Ciera slowed her pace as her best friend caught up, slightly out of breath.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Sadé said. “What took you so long?”

“Locker run,” Ciera replied. “Had to ditch Langston’s chemistry brick.”

Sadé wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. That man needs to stop assigning group projects like we don’t already have lives.”

Ciera smirked. “Mine got interesting.”

Sadé side-eyed her. “Why do you sound smug?”

“No reason.”

“Don’t lie to me, Monroe. Spill.”

Ciera glanced behind her—Jon was still by the lockers, pretending not to watch, but failing miserably.

Sadé followed her gaze, and her mouth dropped open.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“He finally asked?”

“Mmhmm.”

“And??”

“I told him I’d think about it.”

Sadé gasped, grabbing Ciera’s arm. “Girl, what?! You’ve had a thing for him since like—forever!”

“Yeah, well, forever is complicated.”

“Not if he’s asking you out.”

Ciera smiled, a little breathless herself. “He said he’s gonna call me tonight.”

Sadé squealed, practically vibrating. “You better answer that phone.”

“I might.”

“No. No ‘might.’ You will.”

Ciera laughed. “We’ll see.”

They walked side by side, Sadé still talking a mile a minute, but Ciera’s mind drifted again. Back to Jon’s voice, the way he looked at her like she was the only person in the hallway. Like maybe—just maybe—this thing between them was real. Always had been.

She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. But tonight?

Tonight, she’d answer.

The house was quiet except for the faint hum of the AC and the soft buzz of crickets outside the window.

Ciera stood in the middle of her room, arms folded, glaring at the phone on her nightstand like it had personally offended her.

It was 7:57 p.m.

Three minutes until the imaginary deadline she’d given Jonathan to call.

You don’t care, she told herself, marching over to her desk. She picked up her chemistry notebook, flipped to a random page, and tried to focus. Something about ions. Something about valence electrons. Something that wasn’t Jon’s voice in her head saying, I want to take you out.

She bit her lip and underlined the same sentence twice without realizing it.

At 8:01, her phone vibrated.

She jumped.

Unknown Number.

She stared at it for a half second too long.

“Girl, answer the damn phone,” she muttered, snatching it up.

“Hello?”

There was a pause—only a breath—before that familiar voice slipped through.

“Hey.”

Ciera swallowed, hoping her voice didn’t crack. “Hey.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why’d you hesitate?”

“I was busy.”

Jon laughed. “Doing what? Watching the phone from across the room?”

She could hear the grin in his voice, and somehow that made her entire chest flutter.

“Please. I forgot you were even supposed to call.”

“Oh, so now I’m forgettable?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it.”

“I imply a lot of things,” she replied coolly, walking to sit on the edge of her bed. “Doesn’t mean I mean them.”

Jon whistled low. “Damn. Still sharp, huh?”

“Did you call just to get roasted or was there a point?”

“Can’t I miss you a little first?”

Ciera’s heart thumped a little too hard.

She cleared her throat. “Miss me? You saw me like five hours ago.”

“Yeah, but that’s like thirty in Jonathan Fatu hours.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. “You’re so corny.”

“And yet… here you are. Still on the line.”

“I was raised to be polite.”

“I’ll make a note. Politeness is the new flirting.”

Ciera smiled down at her lap. “Is that what this is? You flirting?”

Jon paused for just a second. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just what I’ve always done with you.”

Something in his voice shifted—less playful, more honest. Ciera’s teasing tone faded too.

“You always did have a way of getting on my nerves,” she murmured.

“And under your skin.”

She exhaled through her nose, the air in her room suddenly warmer. “Is this why you called?”

“No,” he said. “I called because I meant what I said earlier.”

Ciera lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling. “About wanting to take me out?”

“Yeah.”

She let the silence stretch for a beat. “Why now, Jon?”

He didn’t answer right away.

“I don’t know,” he said eventually. “I guess… I got tired of pretending I didn’t care. Like, we joke around, we talk trash, but you and I both know there’s always been more to it than that.”

Her chest tightened.

“Maybe,” she said softly. “But you never really said anything before.”

“I was stupid.”

“No argument here.”

He chuckled. “Fair. I just… you know how it was after middle school. I got caught up. Football, friends, all the attention. I didn’t know how to be real with someone back then.”

“And you think you do now?”

“I’m trying,” he said. “With you, I wanna try.”

Ciera’s throat felt a little tight. She sat up again, suddenly restless, the ceiling too heavy to stare at.

“I noticed you pulling away,” she admitted. “Like, the more popular you got, the less we talked. But I never said anything. I figured it was just… what happens.”

“Yeah,” Jon murmured. “I noticed it too. I just didn’t know how to fix it.”

“You could’ve started with a text.”

“Scary stuff,” he joked. “But you’re right. I should’ve.”

Ciera hugged one knee to her chest, the phone pressed close to her ear.

“I always wondered if I made that night up, you know?” she said quietly.

“What night?”

“The dance. Eighth grade.”

“Oh, I think about that night all the time.”

Her breath caught.

“You do?”

Jon’s voice dipped, softer now. “Of course. You were the only thing I could think about after. We almost kissed, remember?”

“I remember,” she whispered. “And then Sadé came outta nowhere.”

“I was this close,” he said with a smirk in his voice. “And she just—”

“Ruined everything.”

He laughed. “Exactly.”

Ciera bit her lip. “If she hadn’t interrupted, would you have actually done it?”

“Kissed you?”

“Yeah.”

There was no hesitation this time. “Absolutely.”

Her stomach flipped.

They were quiet for a few seconds, the weight of their unspoken history stretching out between them. Every memory—every laugh, tease, and almost-kiss—suddenly felt brand new.

“So,” Jon said eventually, his voice teasing again, “are you ready to stop pretending you don’t like me?”

Ciera groaned, burying her face in her pillow. “God, you’re annoying.”

“But cute.”

She muffled her laugh. “Debatable.”

“Please. You used to write my name in your notebook.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Sadé told me.”

“She’s dead to me.”

Jon’s laugh filled her ear again. “So… you gonna go out with me or not?”

Ciera exhaled, heart fluttering like a damn hummingbird. “You’re really not gonna drop this, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, debating. She’d spent years watching him from a distance, wondering if he still thought about her. And now, here he was, asking for her time—her attention—like he finally saw what they could’ve been all along.

“Alright,” she said at last. “One date.”

“One?”

“Don’t push it.”

“Can I pick you up Friday?”

She blinked. “You already had a day in mind?”

“Girl, I’ve had this planned since eighth grade.”

Ciera laughed, leaning back again, letting herself sink into the moment.

“Friday’s fine,” she said.

There was a pause on his end—like even he couldn’t believe she said yes.

“I’m holding you to that.”

“You better.”

They talked a while longer, about stupid things—teachers they couldn’t stand, Sadé’s loud laugh, how Joshua always tried to outshine him. But underneath every word was that same electricity, that same easy connection that never really left.

Eventually, her mom knocked and told her to get ready for bed. They said goodnight reluctantly.

“Sleep good,” he said.

“You too, Fatu.”

He hesitated before hanging up. “Hey, Ciera?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you picked up.”

She smiled. “Me too.”

And when she finally lay down to sleep, her phone still warm in her hand, she knew something had changed.

For real this time.

VIP TAGLIST : @wrestlingprincess80 @whatdoeseverybodywant @pr0tost4r @paigereeder @alyyaanna @raya-hunter01 @mzv11 @trippinsorrows @partypoison00 @isabella-2025 @jstarr86 @chrisevanswife0405 @fearlesschimera @cyberdejos2 @whowrotethenote @potatosackk @ajaxcleaningsupplies @sayyestoheav3nn @chasssssworld @christinabae @glittergirl7 @itskii01 @fame-ass-ers @li-da-savage @ashykneee @kianaleani @holisticcoach @pittieprincess22 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @amandairene88 @luvrsluxe @venusesworld @norababora @callmekayd @chrissyxcxox @keyera-jackson @wabi-sabi1090 @psiloveyOu @baybehkay @nybearsworld @transparentphantomface @sassginaswanmills @fafomama @wooahmiri @mackfinstathrowitback @ariiaeltheedonn @bratzzzdoll @m00nlitnight

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

Aspect of Order: Primordial & Present-Day

One of the first deities, part of what is known as the Primordial Triad. It created the planes alongside the Aspects of Chaos and the In-Between and held dominion over the Material Plane. It embodied order in the way nature has order: the life cycle, gravity, the tides, the surety that the seasons will change, the patterns that appear in flora and fauna alike, the symmetry of pinecones and butterflies. It was associated with the night as a time of quiet preparation where the world rests, and when one can see the remains of creation in the darkened sky. It is said that the two moons of the Material Plane are its eyes, watching over its creations.

All three members of the Primordial Triad are referred to with "it", so ancient and unfathomable that applying a mortal, transient concept of gender to them seemed almost blasphemous.

Almost.

The modern-day conception of Order is quite different. Though she still reigns over the night and natural laws, her followers have placed her at the forefront of the creation process, reducing the In-Between's role and rejecting Chaos altogether. Though most present-day cultures think of her in this way, many of them do not emphasize her: she is an invisible Over-God, keeping the other deities and forces in line and maintaining cosmic balance from behind the scenes. In places where she is worshipped heavily, however, she is placed at the forefront of the pantheon. In those cases, worship of deities with overlapping domains is either illegal (ex local gods of justice) or considered secondary to her (ex the god of the Wilds). The worship of smaller, local deities is usually discouraged or suppressed over-all in these areas in order to encourage a more structured, uniform religious practice. While both aspects of Order championed paladins, Primordial Order also championed druids and rangers while Modern Order champions clerics.

Ancient theologians debated whether or not Order and Chaos were two aspects of the same being (ironically, there was no question that the In-Between was its own separate force). However, following the iconoclasm that effectively forced Chaos out of the pantheon and created the modern conception of Order, such lines of thought were considered heretical, and then blasphemous.

The iconoclasm did have an unintended consequence, however. Crying motifs appeared in some art of Primordial Order around that time, particularly in the areas that resisted the iconoclasts more intensely. Some scholars believe that it may have been a direct reaction to the event: Order mourning the loss of its counterpart. Others have argued, however, that the lack of such motifs (or equivalents) in depictions of the In-Between prove this wrong. After all, why would it not also be grieving?

[egophiliac]

A-anime?

you know, sometimes I forget that Twst is actually an isekai that starts with the protagonist getting run over by an inexplicable horse-drawn carriage. and every time I'm reminded is a delight because that's AMAZING.

also. look. okay. there's a lot of very fun stuff in the trailer but I am obsessed with that Crowley surprised pikachu face. me when I spend all my keys and gems literally hours before they announce overblot SSRs and drop the anime trailer:

[lurakha]

FAR CRY 5 (∞)

[honeyteastar]

The Heishin mer au! Info dump part one!

Includes the beginning of this au smirks

Later on when I do write part 2 (which ig includes the separation arc then omgies reunion </3) which is current events! But at the end you do get a taste of part 2 ish! But like I said will go more in depth. On top of that I will do another post ig talking about more on the seafolks n etc.

Shinichi and Heiji actually meet when they are both children and spend with each other for a whole month together. How they meet is when kid heiji had a scuffle with his dad so he wanted to get out of the house so he kinda grabbed a few of his things and left because he just don’t want to be in the same premises so he just wonders about until he reaches to a beach which is the farthest away until he finds yknow entrances to secluded era. Which funny enough that’s where shinichi is.

Shinichi was technically left there from his parents because the Kudos wanted to wonder and got tired of being in the ocean traveling around and never staying in one place. So shinichi is kinda used to them traveling around the ocean until they stop at cove. Which he thinks oh we are taking a break from the constant traveling. Until his parents tells him to say here until they come back! Which isn’t the first time they left shinichi alone, they go for a few hours then they’ll come back. Unfortunately for shinichi his parents didn’t came back because they left to travel on land. Until the first day during the late hours of the night that shinichi realized they are not coming back so he stays where they left him thinking they’ll come back to him and just continue what they do… He kinda scraping by because he knows how to hunt but is more left to his parents. That’s until he sees a creature? No that can’t be right…probably a kid like him but in two legs and just going about like his frustrations and crying while at it.

Heiji kinda tired himself out so he’s just head in his knees not really focus on his surroundings at the moment so he’s not seeing shinichi dragging himself out of water then tru sand to him. When he feels someone is like watching him, he raises his head but funny enough shinichi was super close to heiji so they kinda bump faces. So they both go oweww…then shock because alone to a space for burst of emotions then the next second of legit in front of you is a creature of the sea just cladding your face, which his palms are super soft, caressing for comfort and some low chirping? because you dumped faces is kinda crazy for afternoon. Minus the insane emotional breakdown you had a while ago with still tear marks on you but wow! Vs shinichi interest in the kid in front of him like woagh…pretty eyes….and 100% feeling his life source via his palms and trying to comfort him because he saw Heiji very distressed sooo shinichi copying what his mom does to him when his upset.

So funny enough they try to communicate but sadly there’s a language barrier between them because the mermaids have their own language going on while on land has its own. Shinichi does know a few words but not a lot because the Kudos didn’t really teach him (when they know a lot about it) they would until he was ready to shift into yknow “having two legs and looks human passing” so they can all travel together but sadly didn’t happen but we get omgies teaching each other language and heiji brings books to shinichi so he doesn’t get bored, this where shinichi fascination starts and becomes a bookworm, obviously he likes mystery books n etc. He also brings stuff to makeshift a tent and other things! Bc Heiji does sometimes sleeps at the place with shinichi! Gets to a point they cuddle/sleep together under the tent. heiji does start a routine with shinichi to like see him everyday and etc. There’s a time Heiji didn’t came to visit Shinichi because he was introduced to Kazuha bc his parents kinda noticed that Heiji would come very late or even in the next day so thought needed like a friend because they legitimately didn’t know where so talks here and there so evil meet up. Heiji didn’t like the idea at first bc he does have shinichi but he can’t do a lot of stuff with him because he’s stuck at the cove. So funny enough kazuha and Heiji goes along well but unfortunately shinichi kinda having the doubts about Heiji never coming back like his parents but this didn’t last long, Heiji did appear and shinichi kinda burst emotionally because the friend up to perhaps crush abandoned again but is fine!! Heiji was like what I’ll never abandon you ever. I just was making a new friend and I can’t really take her here. Kazuha does get the shinichi this and shinichi that but never seen this other kid that Heiji talks about a lot.

There is another scene that a festival does happen in Heiji’s town, he does mention to shinichi and that he would love to take him with him but he doesn’t know how but is fine! He’ll spend the time with shinichi! Shinichi kinda doesn’t want to see Heiji sad/disappointed so he kinda focuses hard to shift/removing his pelt which he kinda succeeds but not fully (you can see his ears, hands, teeth and a few markings that didn’t fully shift into human) which to surprise Heiji which he did and was like blinks and stares we can go! But let me get you something… so YAYYY they go out and is the best time shinichi ever had and they have holding hands all the time because shinichi the fear of loosing Heiji but Heiji is like just hold my hand! So we don’t get separated(like otters and while holding hands all the time shinichi feels very safe and comfortable because he can feel Heiji life source moment so he having the best time of his life) Funny enough Kazuha does meet shinichi and likewise but shinichi kinda shy away but they had fun!

Gets to a point where shinichi actually likes likes Heiji to where he gives his special gem aka a proposal gem that you give to your mate, mind you Heiji doesn’t know this he knows that’s is important and he’ll keep it until he dies BUT Heiji likes likes shinichi too!!! was gonna tell him that <- already proposed to fiancé in a sense because he did accept shinichi’s gem! Then heh this where I rip you apart they get separated because the kudos comes back to get shinichi and leave the place. Shinichi was very reluctant to leave but he left without saying goodbye to Heiji. Heiji comes to see shinichi and tell him something important but when he got there he wasn’t there and he checked the only thing he has from shinichi is the gem he has and shall treasure it until they meet again. Which they both forget each other! Heiji only thing to remember is the gem while shinichi remembers vividly his eyes, the festival date and the cove he stayed.

Shinichi when he gets older he goes to port to port, town to town just to read all the books in the bookstore and to remember that night (aside from Heiji eyes he vividly remembers the festival he spent and the cove) so he ask around n stuff after he’s done he disappears to leave for the next town funny enough the time the lands on heijis port town he kinda remembers the street n stuff and ask the question and get a yeah we do celebrate said festival n stuff and ironically enough he gets a glimpse of Heiji in the crowd bc that person looks very familiar moment to he trails after Heiji (even when Heiji leaves with a small vessel from his town shinichi follows him and that’s how shinichi legit saves Heiji instantly)

[skitskatdacat63]

i would LOVE to hear about your ocs if you feel like talking about them 👀

Hehehe thank you for indulging me ;; I'm just thinking about well this post relates to the relationship of my main oc pairing!!

Also a little apology in advance I didn't mean to write this much shfkfk, but even still, I'm leaving a lot out honestly. They are my blorbos who I'm constantly fiddling with. I'd include drawings of them but I honestly really need to draw them new portraits first so. If I draw/post them, I'll let ya know if you'd like! Though they are on my blog somewhere I think 🤔

(*note, I have my own AU where instead of there just being one Earth, there's a different version for each of the planets, that's ruled by a god, the planet is sort of their pet projects, monitoring how differently society would go with different overarching rulers, if that makes sense. This story takes place on Neptune, with a kind of benevolent emperor sort of God, who Noir works for directly.)

When she was younger, Eclipse gets kidnapped(to be used as ransom, as shes from a very famous, prestigious family) and was ultimately rescued by Noir, a special operative/spy. So their relationship literally starts off by Eclipse suffering in Noir's arms, Noir forever being burned into her mind as a protector/someone she can trust completely. Noir takes it on as her personal duty to try and teach Eclipse how to defend herself and such things, giving her resources and contacts in the dark underbelly of society, as Eclipse insists she wants to be fully aware of what the world really is capable of(she was incredibly sheltered beforehand.) ....

Noir though is also not immune though to kind of fostering the same sort of bloodthirsty, relentless ideals in Eclipse that she has in herself(that she struggles with), as she finds them to be very similar creatures, thus unintentionally pushing Eclipse down a worse road(though tbf the road Eclipse is already on is probably worse, so maybe it's a good thing, maybe she was never destined for anything good, and this was actually the better path.)

However later on, they're separated after a traumatic event between the two of them(ominous), with a lot of misunderstanding, but they suddenly can't get in contact with each other, so they both go off to lick their wounds, thinking the other has abandoned them for what ever reason(they are not rational people.)

Eclipse is suddenly unmoored completely for the first time ever, so all of her worst tendencies come out, and shes living terribly. She ultimately becomes a mercenary, as the time where Noir had taught her was the first time in her life she actually felt like a real person, not a pawn being used by her family, so she wants to make use of all the resources and contacts Noir had provided her, and make something of herself(this path is honestly the only other way she can conceive of, as she went from being sheltered to suddenly experiencing the worst that life can offer.)

Anyhow, obviously this new mysterious mercenary/assassin would sound some alarms, so Noir is sent out to investigate who this person could possibly be(not in a like, hunt this person down and kill them way, but in a, gauge how dangerous they are and whether we could make an asset out of them or if they're opposition, kind of way.) Eclipse's looks have changed drastically since they last saw each other, and shes obviously been going *through it*, so Noir doesn't recognize her. This hurts Eclipse immensely because what do you mean that I'm apparently just a footnote in the life of this person who changed my own life drastically, was I just a pastime, just an easily disposable little plaything. Noir has no idea who she is and why she's so hostile, and it starts this perpetual cat-and-mouse game between them. Noir originally was just trying to make a measured analysis and even possibly try to connect and offer an olive branch, but Eclipse is understandably incredibly resistant, and has constantly been in fight-or-flight mode for the past years.

At some point Noir actually realizes who Eclipse is, boom big reveal moment!!(haven't 100% decided, but something to do with the fact that Eclipse has a very distinctive...scar.) So now she's suddenly trying to court her and get close again, apologize, do whatever she can to reconnect with this person that she really loves and relates to. Eclipse, as I said constantly in fight-or-flight, doesn't trust this, thinks it's another game, thinks Noir is just trying another tactic. Thus the chase continues, but it's only aggressive from one side now(though tbf, I think everything Noir does is aggressive in some way so, perhaps aggressive from one side and aggressively loving from the other.) So. The post I mentioned. I love to imagine that the way they finally reunite and Eclipse finally begins trusting Noir again is through her getting grievously wounded again(wow I'm so kind to my ocs.)

Again, even if now she doesn't exactly fully trust Noir outwardly, there's this internal sense of unconditional trust she has in Noir as Noir was practically burned into her brain as a guardian angel, a protector, someone who she can actually trust. The problem is that she really does trust her and trust that Noir loves her unconditionally for who she is(something she has never really experienced), but obviously that traumatic moment and their losing track of each other for years, which is a huge misunderstanding though probably unreconcilable by other people's standards tbh, caused a crisis of faith. So what better sign of faith than her first instinct after getting wounded being to seek out Noir for help.

Imagine Noir getting a call from Eclipse from the first time in YEARS(yeah of course she somehow got her new number onto Eclipse's phone, and Eclipse glared at her and threatened to delete it but never did. Thankfully.) and it's her gasping for air, choking and gurgling on her own blood, and Noir suddenly feels like it is in fact years ago and is frightened to see Eclipse under these kinds of circumstances again, but it's her chance to finally prove herself as a protector, one who has finally gained the right to be trusted again. She takes Eclipse home and nurses her back to health, the possessive creature in her pleased at having this amount of control and this singular status of protector(when Eclipse was kidnapped, it was still a job for Noir and she had to kinda just. Step back. And restrain that possessive part in herself that wanted to be the sole protector. She came in her own right to help Eclipse in other ways, but still, that lack of agency and control over the entire situation really sat with her heavily.)

The trauma of the situation linked them together, and then the trauma of a different situation tore them apart, and then the trauma of ANOTHER situation finally brought them back together again. Please teach them how to communicate clearly for once please and not rely on traumatic circumstances as their relationship counselor ;;;; OKAY. I THINK THATS THE GENERAL OVERVIEW OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP.

[bizlybebo]

you should watch pantheon....... it has kind of dead dad and found family and mean women and william wisp and. transgenderism if you believe with your heart

ok vaguely twinkish coworker

[energeticpoltergeist]

figured now would be a good time to upload my backlog of traditional drawings of my favorite bastard because: 1. the drawings for the first batch of my WB au fancomic have been finished, it's just a matter of working on the dialogue(yes the first batch has dialogue nearly if not outright identical to canon, it diverges from there, but my brayne doesn't like doing things in small batches and until i can get a gist of how to write dialogue in character it may be awhile before even that is implemented so it's a whole thing blegh) 2. i found out @2ofpentacles has made an offer to draw a Fire Emblem character if somebody were to draw it first, so why not use it as an excuse to finally upload my seven month backlog of drawing one guy the backlog is under the cut because there are several i have done, lets hope the tumblr doesn't fuck up the attempt at organization

April batch(only one drawing, first one i ever did, looks like shit in hindsight)

June batch(didn't draw a whole lot in May iirc, but seemed to have made up for it because this is the largest batch of drawing Naesala)

July/August batch(only did one for July, but putting them together since the months were close, also first time attempting bird form)

September batch(second largest, though good bit of it was facial expression practice)

now we reach the most recent, not digital, drawings i've done being in October and November respectively(don't worry about why so many of my drawings have been him looking like he's been through the wringer or why sometimes he has the sash instead of the belt, most of that relates to the shit(aka fancomic by a guy whos never made comics before) i've been working on)

this was long and frankly at this point im convinced i might be the Naesala guy of the fandom since yeah

[sesamenom]

apologies for the lack of art lately, i just got new glasses and am still adjusting :(

in the meantime, anyone have thoughts about lomion and tyelpe's relationship in the reverse gondolin au?

[doodlingwren]

Ok, back to girlblogging eheh (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

[neversetyoufree]

The problem with me having a super limited knowledge of Japanese is that, between my own rough understanding and some bad mtl, I can understand just enough of the new chapter that I know I'm frothing at the mouth to write meta about it, but not enough to actually write that meta for fear of glaring errors in translation

[arolesbianism]

Thinking abt Sif Odile duo looping au again and I wanna be able to plot everything out more coherently but act 5 eternally looms overhead and boy I do not wanna look up

[yououghtaknow]

genuinely kind of terrified as to what will happen to me when i see bare live in three (three!!!!!!!!) days. i will either go fully insane or transcend mortality or perhaps both. either way i will most likely end up full weeping.