#like i’m enough. and i know that nobody else thinks that except myself but nobody knows me as well as myself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

coffincestuous · 3 months

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i’ve seen some people say that ashley is kind of an extreme portrayal of mental illness(es), but, from my own experience…. she’s actually a very real portrayal. all of her possessiveness, her mood swings, her dependency on andrew, her choice to not think too long about super traumatizing shit, her impulsiveness; all of those are very normal, very accurate ways mental illnesses and other disorders manifest

(andrew also shows Many signs of mental illness(es) and disorders, and so does their mom, but that’s not what this post is about!!)

i’m not going to try to diagnose her or anything, and i’ll try to keep my headcanons to myself, but i believe we can all tell that the way she thinks and acts is not exactly healthy for her or the people around her. she’s harmful to herself, andrew, and a lot of others. there’s genuinely So Much that has influenced the way she is, i kind of don’t even know where to start

she wasn’t “born evil,” like her mom says. she isn’t even “evil,” she just… doesn’t really understand. that’s not a bad thing!! she doesn’t understand what’s wrong with her behavior, because no adult ever taught her. no adult ever cared enough to make sure she learned how to treat people nicely. no adult ever paid attention to her harmful behavior and tried to correct it. we see that ashley has been kind of an asshole from a very early age, and she’s always been pretty blunt with her thoughts and feelings. she hasn’t ever felt the need to sugar-coat things, to spare other’s feelings. aside from andrew, nobody has ever been genuinely nice to her, or spared her feelings, so why should she bother?

similarly, she doesn’t lie too often, unlike andrew. she doesn’t like pretending, especially not with him. she says in game, during dinner with their parents, that she can’t “keep up” with andrew’s lies. we only really see her lie of her own accord once, and she doesn’t donit very convincingly.

she doesn’t really care about anything that doesn’t concern her or andrew, which is like. The Most logical path for her feelings to take. andrew is the only person that she’s ever known who cares about her. he’s been by her side for her entire life. her parents, her neighbors, and her friends have done wrong by her, and have been driven away by her… Her. except for andrew. (we’re ignoring the chapter two decay route for this). he’s been there through everything. he’s cared when no one else has. he’s seen her at her worst and her best moments. again, no adult taught her about caring, or pretending to care. she doesn’t feel the need to mask like andrew does, and she doesn’t have a want to “fit in” to a society that has failed her and her brother. she’s been treated as an outsider for her whole life, so she probably believes she’ll never “fit in,” she’ll never be accepted, and she doesn’t need to fit in or be accepted by them.

she greatly values loyalty in her friends. we see her act this way with andrew, with nina, and with julia. she sees people chosing others over her as a betrayal. other than andrew, no one has ever chosen ashley first. that upsets her!! that would upset anyone, but it especially upsets her because no one has ever chosen her first. her parents gave andrew all of their attention, but not her. her two friends have betrayed their friendship and put andrew above her. in game, she says it herself: she should be the top priority. with every encounter, every back-and-forth, every relationship, every decision, she’s waiting to be pushed aside. she’s waiting to be discarded. with andrew, she’ll do anything in her power to make sure he doesn’t leave her, either.

i think that it’s really interesting that she really is her worst self with andrew. she’s mean, she’s violent, she’s petty and crass and acts very childish, but she generally feels safe with him. she feels comfortable with him, and doesn’t feel the need to hold herself back at all. there’s security to be found in a relationship (of any kind) that you can say terrible things and act in horrible ways and that person stays by your side. that’s a huge part what she has with andrew. she trusts him to stay by her side, despite how awfully she may act. she places a Lot of importance on his presence in her life.

even the murder and cannibalism can be attributed to mental illness (along with The Plot). the intense mood swings that she has go along with her already violent tendencies. she feels anger, frustration, annoyance, and a whole bunch of other really negative emotions that she’s never learned to cope with. a lot of people in real life use violence as an outlet for anger. plus, she doesn’t allow herself feel upset or disgusted by death, even at her own hands (if she even feels it at all). despite that, i believe that murdering her parents had to be So cathartic for her and andrew. ashley explains in the decay route why eating people makes her feel powerful and in control, and being in control is something she very obviously feels that she lacks. she’s seen as manipulative, but she doesn’t really succeed at her manipulation. she’s understandably insecure with her entire existence, so she tries to control whoever and whatever she can, and that extends to andrew, murder, as well as cooking and eating people

there’s a lot to life that is treated as “normal” and “universal,” but everyone starts with absolutely no knowledge. experiences build a person’s worldview and shapes their personality, and ashley has had very rough experiences. she is a product of abuse and neglect and mistreatment, and is a very realistic depiction of a person who has had the experiences she’s had. the game has a pretty light tone despite the content, but it being “pretty light” doesn’t take away from the amount of detail that is put into the main characters and the trauma that they’ve suffered

ashley doesn’t have to be “good” or “positive” representation to be accurate representation, and i feel like nemlei has done a fucking excellent job at making a very, very unwell person (or two or three) in a very, very unwell society, and i am so extremely excited to see more of the graves’ childhood in chapter three

#tcoaal #the coffin of andy and leyley #ashley graves #analysis #coffin.txt #i may be projecting a little but i share so many behaviors and thought patterns with her #this game… THIS GAME!!!!#‘scary’ mental illness club rise up 💪#autism club rise up 💪

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 1 year

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Being Inarizaki’s Manager

🚑Miss Manager Breaks Her Hand🚑

Inarizaki x female! manager (she/her)

Warnings: mention of broken hand, pain relievers mentioned, crying, angst(?) to fluff

A/N: this idea stemmed from the 2k headcanon celebration and I loved it so much that I thought I’d indulge myself 💅

This team ranges from “protective dad squad” to “problem children”

It’s giving season 4 Seijoh x Shiratorizawa crossover

Like I’m both excited and scared for you

Now being their precious manager, you were literally worshiped on this team

The third years, Kita, Aran, Omimi and Akagi, absolutely adored you beyond all measures

You were the light of the team, the rock 🪨

The second years, Atsumu, Osamu, Suna and Ginjima, were the guardians of YN

They didn’t think anyone was good enough to breath the air of THEIR YN

And last, but certainly not least, our precious bby first year, Riseki, absolutely had the biggest crush on you

He looked up to you and worshiped every step you took

Needless to say, you were irreplaceable my dear Yn

Unfortunately “irreplaceable” does not equate to “unbreakable” as our lively Inarizaki was about to learn

Because you see, it happened so fast that absolutely nobody knew what to do

You sent the solid team that was slated to win nationals into the biggest frenzy ever

And it all started with a rouge volleyball 😌

You see, it was the end of practice and everyone was packing up the gym

Everyone except for a certain someone 👀

Now I know what you’re thinking ok? This is all Atsumus fault

It’s always Atsumu fault 🙄

And while 99.9% of the time it most definitely is, this 0.1% was not

Because it was someone else who accidentally caused the chaos

“Sumu pack it up! It’s time to go home!” Kita shouted as you picked up the remaining volleyballs

“Just a few more serves, I’m almost at my limit,” Atsumu said as you mindlessly continued your work

You were use to this, Sumu was Sumu and there wasn’t much more you could do

And by now, he had learned to avoid hitting you so you really didn’t mind

You just continued about your merry way, picking up balls and daydreaming

“Come on bro, let’s go I’m starving!” Osamu whined

“If you’d practice your serves as much as you eat, you probably wouldn’t have to worry about missing any!” Atsumu said before slamming a service ace into the opposing court

“What did ya say to me?” Osamu raged

“Oh boy,” Aran said 😐

“Knock it off you two! Let’s just finish up!” Ginjima yells

Suna 👉🏻👀 📱

Meanwhile, you are just lost in your own world, probably daydreaming of peace and quiet

“Give me that ball!” Osamu shouted as he grabbed the ball from Sumu before tossing it and slamming it into the opposite court

It looked like a good serve, a solid one even

It’s course was set to land right on the end line

Which was, coincidentally, right where you were 😃

Akagi, our star Libero, saw it first

“YN LOOK OUT!” He shouted as the rest of the team watched on horror

Thankfully, you manage to get your hand up quickly

The ball hit your hand, smack on and deflected towards the wall

A loud and almost visible sigh flooded the gym as everyone was relieved you didn’t get hit in the head

However the calmness lasted approximately .02 seconds when they heard you whine and grab your hand

“Crap Yn!” Omimi shouted as the team raced towards you

You were grabbing your hand as tears began to flow down your face

“YN I’m so freaking sorry!! I didn’t mean too!” Osamu said, coming beside you as he looked at your hand

Fun fact: a professional volleyball serve can be upwards of 120mph (193kph)

Osamu isn’t a professional but it’s safe to say he can probably reach at least 80mph (128kph)

Needless to say, there’s a lot of force behind a serve

I googled all the facts 💅

N E WAYS

You look at Osamu, tears in your eyes as you respond, “it’s ok Samu, I should have been watching.”

Meanwhile, your hand is beginning to swell and it hurts so bad

“Let me see it YN,” the coach says as he studies your hand

“Is she going to be ok?” Ginjima asks as Coach looks at you

“Riseki, grab an ice pack quick, Kita and Aran, take YN to the nurse now!” Coach barks as the team goes to work

Suna comes next to you, holding your hand gently as Riseski hands him the ice pack

You hiss and whimper as the ice hits your skin

Osamu and Atsumu stand to the side, visibly upset that their arguing lead to you getting hurt

“Come on Yn,” Kita said, putting his hand on your lower back as Aran took over for Suna, bracing your hand

Atsumu and Osamu wordlessly began cleaning up the gym with the rest of the team, feeling awful about what happened

“Hey!” Omimi says as the twins look at him, “it was an accident. She’ll be ok.”

Meanwhile, in the nurses office…

“We need to call your parents Yn, you need to go to the hospital,” she says as you look at her

“She’s ok isn’t she?” Aran says, concerned

The nurse shakes her head, “I think her hand is broken, she needs x-rays to confirm.”

Kita and Aran’s eyes widen as you hold your hand, crying a little as the pain continues to sink in

The team finishes cleaning up and they all run to the nurses office as they see you sitting outside with Aran

“Hey everything’s all right?” Atsumu says as you look at him

“The nurse thinks she broke her hand, her parent is coming to take her to the hospital,” Kita says as he walks out from the nurses office

Osamu immediately deflated, he feels absolutely awful about what happened

He realistically knows it wasn’t really his fault, accidents happen, especially on the court

You notice him looking sad as you stand up and walk to him

“Samu it’s ok! I’ll be ok I promise,” You say, hugging him as he hugs you back

It’s a sweet moment that is unfortunately interrupted 😐

“What about me YN?” I’m sad too!” Atsumu whines as Osamu and the team glare at him

You smile and giggle, hugging Atsumu and then the rest of the team

Your parent arrives and you are taken to the hospital

The guys all go home, worried about what happened to you

They all feel awful, knowing how much pain you are in

Suddenly, their phones all ring, the group chat lighting up as they all simultaneously answer

“YN are you ok?” Osamu shouts from his phone screen

Talk about turn of events 😅

“Will you shut up and let her speak?” Ginjima says

“How about everyone shuts up and let’s YN talk!” Kita finally says as you smile from the hospital room

“Hey guys, I’m ok! My hand is broken but I got a cast on it!” You say, showing the team your favorite color, now wrapped around your hand

They all go silent, feeling awful

Osamu feels the worst as he looks at your wrapped hand

“Damn Yn, I’m so sorry!” He says again, his face expressing immense concern

You laugh, an odd gesture given the situation, “Samu it’s ok! The doctor was super impressed that I managed to deflect a serve like that! It’s not a bad break and they said within a few weeks I should be healed!”

“Are you able to do volleyball practice YN?” Akagi asks as you nods

“No physical activity for a while but I can still write and do everything I normally do! So it means I get out of gym class!” You say, excited you won’t have to participate in running for a while

“Did they give you something for the pain?” Aran asks as you nod

“Yeah they gave me some good pain relievers but I won’t be in school the rest of this week,” you say as the boys all deflate

“I’m really really sorry Yn! I feel awful!” Osamu says again

“Samu it’s ok! It was an accident! I should have been paying more attention anyways!” You say as you smile

Thankfully, a certain someone knows just how to lighten the mood 😏

“Really if you think about it, it’s all Sumu’s fault,” Suna chimes in as Atsumu takes over Osamus phone

“What the hell Suna?!? How is it my fault??” He shouts

“Well if you wouldn’t have kept serving, this never would have happened!” Ginjima adds

“It’s true,” Riseki says

“Atsumu you are going to run so many laps tomorrow!” Kita says as

Atsumu 👉🏻👁️💧👄💧👁️

They are all just glad their precious manager is ok 🥰

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ambrossart · 2 years

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DANCING WITH MYSELF

— PART EIGHT

summary: eddie crashes senior prom hoping to steal a dance with his dream girl, chrissy cunningham. instead, he spends the night stuck in the women’s restroom with you—her snarky, insecure best friend. ❖ pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader ❖ word count: 5,641 ❖ genre: fluff with some angst ❖ series status: complete ❖ warnings: no season 4 spoilers, some coarse language, body image issues, allusions to eating disorders, typical teenage insecurities, angst, jealousy, anxiety, secret crushes, childhood memories, happy ending, lots of 80s music

Back in the dance hall, Chrissy Cunningham was sitting alone at the table and picking teal nail polish off her fingernails while “True” by Spandau Ballet floated dreamily down from the speakers.

… except it wasn’t a dream anymore, was it?

Chrissy had been shaken awake and now she was seeing her world with brand new eyes, and she didn’t like what she saw, not at all. She was disenchanted by it. Disgusted by it. She wanted to tear it all down and burn it to the ground. Those vines crawling up the pillar? Nothing but cheap polyester leaves on wire stems. How could she ever think they were real? They were as fake as the roses on her table. As fake as the rhinestone tiara that would eventually sit on her head. And Chrissy would stand on that stage in the middle of this pretty plastic world, and she would smile her fake smile and wave at a crowd of happy faces, and she would wonder if any of them actually saw her.

Saw her like you did.

We should’ve just stayed home, Chrissy thought with a forlorn smile. We could’ve been sitting on the couch and watching Pretty in Pink right now. I’d have to keep rewinding all my favorite parts because you think your commentary’s more entertaining than the actual movie. And you know what? It is. And you’re right, Blane is boringly perfect, and Andie really should’ve chosen Duckie at the end. But nobody appreciates Duckie, do they? I wonder why that is…

I’m sorry… If I smiled at him too much or looked at him too much, I’m sorry. I swear, I didn’t realize I was doing it. Chrissy sniffed as a tear fell onto her dress, darkening the fabric. I bet he doesn’t even really like me, anyway. He probably just likes my face and my smile, like everyone else, and he has no idea the only reason I smile so much is because I have someone like you making me laugh all the time.

Chrissy wiped away another tear as Jason Carver appeared before her with his jacket unbuttoned, bowtie undone and hanging loose around his white collar.

“Hey,” he said in a quiet voice, his hands stuffed awkwardly in his front pockets.

“Hi,” Chrissy said back, unable to fully meet his gaze. It hurt too much to look at him right now.

“Why’d you do it?” she asked after a while.

Jason let out a long sigh. “I don’t know… I just wanted everyone to have a good time. I wanted us to have a good time. I wanted her to have a good time. And I thought she would with Chance; I really thought she would… but he’s an asshole, and so am I. I didn’t think it through, Chris. I didn’t take her feelings into consideration. She’s right, I was being selfish. I just wanted tonight to be perfect.”

Chrissy looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. “So did I.”

Jason felt his heart break, seeing her like that. He knelt down in front of her and gently cupped her face with his hands. His voice trembled a little as he said, “Is that why you haven’t eaten anything tonight?”

Chrissy’s face twisted into a startled expression. She yanked her chin away. “What? No, I… I told you, I’m just nervous, that’s all.”

“Chris, we’ve been dating for almost three years. I’ve never seen you eat, not once, not even some popcorn at a movie.”

“What? No, that can’t be true…”

“It is, Chris… and it’s okay. Look, I know you’re dealing with something right now, and I know you don’t trust me enough to talk to me about it, but I just want you to know I’m here, okay? Whenever you’re ready, only when you’re ready, I’ll be here ready to listen. Okay?”

A tear rolled down Chrissy’s cheek. Jason wiped it away with his thumb.

“What if it takes a really long time?” she asked, her voice breaking with emotion.

“Then it takes a really long time,” Jason said. “It’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

“Yeah, but what if I’m not?” Chrissy asked, sniffling. “What if you don’t like what you see?”

An incredulous laugh emerged from Jason’s throat, his mouth hanging open in silent awe. “That’s… That’s not possible, Chris.” How could she even think that? “You’re the most beautiful person I know, inside and out, and nothing you say or do will ever change that.”

His words made Chrissy cry harder, smiling through her tears. Jason hugged her close and pressed a kiss against her forehead, and as he drew back, she whispered, “I love you.”

“You know, it’s very rare to find a friend like Chrissy. We’ve been best friends since the first grade. The first grade. The teacher partnered us together for an assignment, and we just hit it off right away. It was effortless with her. As easy as breathing. We spent the whole afternoon talking and laughing, getting absolutely nothing done, and it’s been that way ever since. I swear, it’s like we’re in our own little world sometimes. We shut everyone else out, forget about all our problems, and just relax for a while… as long as we can. She’s the only one I’ve ever been able to do that with, and I’m assuming it’s the same for her; otherwise she wouldn’t have kept me around for so long. And honestly that surprised me, too. I mean, you hear about girls dropping their childhood friends once they get a taste of popularity, but not Chris. No, she didn’t change at all. We still eat lunch together every day. Still walk home together every day. Sleepovers every Saturday, and then we hang out all day Sunday. It’s like a ritual at this point, and I think we’re both too afraid to break it. It’s like we think the world will end or something.” You laughed at that for a minute, then frowned.

“We’re going to different schools next year. That wasn’t the plan, of course. We were supposed to go to Evansville together, live it up, have the time of our lives, but now she’s the only one going. Chris thinks it’s because I didn’t get in, but the truth is… I never even applied. I don’t wanna go to college with her. I can’t go to college with her. And I know that sounds really selfish. Probably makes me seem like a total bitch, but… My whole identity is wrapped up in Chrissy Cunningham. From the time we became friends, she has defined me. I have no name anymore. I’m simply Chrissy’s best friend. And what, I have to spend another four years like that? Another forty? When I die, is that what’s gonna be engraved on my tombstone? I have nightmares about it. I wake up in the middle of the night and cry about it. I’ve spent the last twelve years living in Chrissy’s shadow, and it’s slowly killing me. And it’s not her fault. She’s done nothing wrong. She’s amazing, and I love her, but… I need to find out who I am… apart from her.”

You breathed out the words and watched them drift away. This was the first time you’d ever spoken such treachery out loud. Until now, it had been trapped inside of you like a poison, and now that it was out, a small part of you was afraid. Afraid Chrissy might’ve heard you. Afraid all your rituals had now been undone. The spell was broken, and now the world around you would cease to exist. Fires. Earthquakes. Floods. Famine. You sat there for a minute, listening for the sounds of screaming and panic, but there was nothing… just Spandau Ballet.

You turned your head, caught Eddie Munson’s wide-eyed stare. “I’m sorry, were you asking me a question?”

“Uhh… just… what your plans are after high school.”

Your face flushed. “Oh, right…” You crossed your arms over your chest and looked down. “Umm, college. In way too many words, college. Yeah, that’s what I’ll be doing. What about you?”

Eddie pounded his fist on his knee. “I… have no idea. I guess I’ll be at the world’s mercy.”

“You’re not gonna pursue your music?”

“Well, yeah, I’m gonna try… but the odds of making it are basically, y’know, zero.” He formed a goose egg with his hand, then made it explode with a flick of his fingers. “With my luck, I’m probably gonna end up sharing a prison cell with my old man.”

“Don’t say that,” you said, sickened.

“I’m just kidding.”

“Yeah, you are but you aren’t, so… stop.” Your voice was soft but emphatic. It made Eddie look at you in surprise. “I remember how you would get whenever your dad was out on parole. It was like night and day. You became a completely different person.”

Once, while you were all leaving Scottie’s house after a D&D session, Eddie saw his dad’s beat-up car sitting on the curb and, instantly, all the color drained from his face. Then he said, I gotta go, guys, and he skipped the next two sessions.

“You always swore you wouldn’t end up like him, so… swear it, Eddie. Swear you’ll never end up like him.”

Your glare was earnest and desperate.

Eddie sighed, surrendering to it. “I’ll never end up like him. I promise.”

“Good,” you said. “And don’t make any more jokes like that either because you’re not that funny, Munson.”

“Okay,” said Eddie with a faint smile. “From now on, I’ll leave all the jokes to you.”

“Good,” you said, and shivered as the air conditioning kicked on.

“You cold?” Eddie asked.

“No, I’m—”

“Hold on, I gotcha.”

Eddie leaned forward and shrugged his right shoulder out of his jacket sleeve. You started blushing as soon as you saw the bare flesh of his arm, the black ink of all his tattoos…

Your mouth fell open. “Oh, that’s okay, I…” but soon his hands were on your shoulders, draping the jacket over you, and you felt your cheeks burst into flames.

Eddie drew back, hovering over you for a minute. “Better?”

Your eyes shyly floated up to his. “Yes… thank you,” and then he gave you a crooked little smile that made you melt. You pulled the collar of his jacket against your chin and thought, This enough… If this is all I ever get, this is enough.

Then you looked at Eddie in his Iron Maiden T-shirt, sitting with his right knee pulled toward his chest and his arm resting on it, and you said with a smirk, “By the way, I’m really glad you decided to dress up tonight.”

Eddie breathed a quiet laugh. “Yeah… probably shoulda rented a suit, huh?”

“No,” you said, “this is perfect. This is totally you.”

Eddie’s eyes met yours in a curious stare. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, as a huge smile spread across your face, getting bigger and bigger until… “Ow!”

“You okay?”

You pressed your hand to your cheekbone, giggling in pain. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Eddie said, “You’re not used to smiling this much, huh? Uh-oh… Careful now, if you keep this up, you might actually break your face.”

“Hey, I smile…”

Eddie shook his head. “No, not really… You smirk a lot. Yeah, that’s definitely your signature. Then let’s see, there’s the, uhhh, the shit-eating grin, which you wear while watching me fail at life. That one’s my personal favorite.” He chuckled to himself for a second, then licked his bottom lip in thought. “But see, uh, a genuine smile from you, now that’s very rare… at least for me. Yeah, I don’t think I’ve seen that since…” His eyes grew distant, softened. “Well, it’s been a long time.”

Then Eddie looked down, hooked his finger around the chain on his right wrist. “… and that’s a shame because it’s a really pretty smile.”

You felt your brow cave in on itself, your lips pucker into a sour frown.

Eddie glanced back at you and laughed. “Well, it was, anyway… Now you’re doing a weird grimace-thing. What is that?”

You turned away. “Yeah, sorry, I’ve never been very good at accepting compliments… I, uhh, I remember back in middle school, Chris and I were standing by our lockers—I don’t remember what we were doing exactly—but she just looked at me and said, ‘You’re so pretty.’ It came completely out of nowhere because that’s what Chris does. She’s random like that sometimes. And, anyway, Cody Nelson was standing on the other side of me. You know who Cody Nelson is, right? Well, he turned to me and said, ‘No offense, but you’re really not that pretty.’ And I think it was just the way he said it. Totally without malice. He just stated it like it was a fact—like the sky is blue, and I’m not pretty—and that just rattled me.” Even now, you could feel that same lump in your throat, sitting in there like a rock. “In hindsight, I should have told him to fuck off, but I just stood there, dumbfounded, and I said, ‘Okay…’ Like, what are you even supposed to say to something like that? And I almost cried right there, but I didn’t. I did the respectable thing and waited until I got home, but… yeah, now every time someone compliments me, I just kinda pause. It’s like I’m waiting for Cody Nelson to come out of the bushes and be like, ‘Actually…’ and—Wait, what are you doing?”

Eddie had shifted his weight around and was now facing the door.

“Oh, I’m just waiting for Cody Nelson,” he said. “He shouldn’t be coming into the women’s restroom, by the way, which I realize sounds pretty hypocritical coming from me, but…”

Eddie turned toward you and said in a low voice, “You know what, I don’t think he’s coming. Hold on, though, we’ll give it a few more seconds… Wait… Nope, I think you’re safe. It’s just us in here.”

His smile was warm and comforting. It made your heart beat faster.

Eddie went on: “I don’t mean to make light of your traumatic memory or anything, but… didn’t Cody Nelson stick a scissor in an outlet and almost electrocute himself?”

You squinted your eyes, trying to remember. “Yeah… Yeah, I think he did.”

“Yeah… so… obviously he’s an idiot. You’re gorgeous.”

He said it like it was a fact. Like it was a universal truth.

Then he turned away and muttered under his breath, “It’s your personality that’s the problem.”

And your jaw dropped. You coughed out a laugh. “Oh, really?”

Eddie flashed you a teasing smirk. “Yeah, you’re kind of a bitch. I’ve actually been meaning to tell you that for a while now.”

“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows tauntingly. “Is that so?”

Your hands flew down to the strap of your heel and barely grazed the buckle when you felt the weight of Eddie’s hand on top of yours, his fingers locking between yours.

“No, don’t,” he begged, laughing. “Please don’t stab me with your shoe. I’d like to maintain vision in both eyes, if that’s possible.”

Eddie was tracing your fingers with his thumb as he said this, dragging his nail up to the knuckle of your thumb, through the curve to your index finger, then back again. It was hypnotic, this movement, so hypnotic that you almost didn’t hear him when he said, “I mean, how else am I supposed to keep staring at you?”

Your heart stopped. “What?”

You looked at Eddie, saw his eyes widen for a second and then squeeze themselves shut. “Shit,” he hissed through his teeth. Then he yanked his hand away from yours and threw it back on his bent knee. All the while, you sat there silent, blinking.

Eddie pushed his hand through his hair in frustration. “God, why’d you have to be here tonight? Y’know, I came in with a very clear plan: get in, get the girl—or, y’know, don’t get the girl—and then get the hell outta here! I see you and… shit, all of a sudden I’m back in middle school, man. I’m weird and awkward. Face full of acne. Actually, I don’t remember if acne was a huge problem for me, but it probably was. And now I got all these complicated feelings and, fuck, I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.”

He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, breathing deeply for a minute. “I’m sorry for yelling at you, by the way. I dunno why I did that. I… I shouldn’t have done that.”

You closed your mouth and tried to swallow, but your throat was so dry. “Eddie, why did you act like you didn’t know me?”

Eddie opened his eyes but didn’t look at you. His gaze was cloudy, tormented with a dark haze of anguish that you didn’t understand. “I just didn’t wanna give you the satisfaction of, y’know, thinking I cared enough to remember you. I mean, I did say you were dead to me, so…”

His words punched you in the gut. Knocked all the air out of your lungs.

“OH MY GOD!” you yelled. “This is all because of some stupid D&D campaign? Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Eddie put up his hand. “First of all, it’s not just a stupid D&D campaign…”

“Oh my god, Eddie! You better change your name to Petty Munson because that is the pettiest shit I’ve ever heard in my life!”

“Oh, see, there you go with the name-calling… Now we’re really back in middle school!”

“Yeah, we are… because you’re acting like an actual child right now! I killed you six years ago in a game. In a game, Eddie! And you decided to kill me off in real life. But wait, hold on, you didn’t have any problem digging me out from the grave when you needed to use me, did you? Yeah, you just grabbed a shovel and got to work.”

“Hey, you have no idea how hard it was for me to come up to you tonight.”

“Yeah, but you did, didn’t you? Because you needed my prom ticket.”

“Yeah, and a lotta help you were in that department.”

“Oh, boo-fucking-hoo… You know, I’d actually give a shit if you weren’t such an insufferable asshole. But then again, what do you care? I’m dead to you, and over a stupid fucking game. Do you wanna redo it, Eddie? Since it matters so much to you? You know what, fine, I’ll go grab Jeff and Grant and Gareth—I’ll even go spring Scottie outta jail. Yeah, I haven’t seen that guy in years, but let’s go ahead and grab him too—and then we can all sit down in Scottie’s dungeon of a basement and replay this monumental campaign. It’ll take us like three months, but if that’ll finally right the universe for you, let’s do it.”

By the time you were finished, you were seething. Eddie shot you an acidic glare.

“God, you really are such a bitch,” he said, sounding completely defeated. “It’s not about the campaign. It was never about the campaign. It was a horrible campaign, anyway. Full of plot holes. You could see all the twists coming a mile away. Scottie can’t write for shit and he was a horrible DM. He spent the whole campaign flirting with you through his NPCs. It was really fucking annoying.”

Eddie looked away from you, started tugging at one of the rings on his left hand.

“I was having fun with you. I thought we were having fun together. Those three months we spent, y’know, arguing and goofing around in Scottie’s basement were the best three months of my life, and…” He winced suddenly, as if a dagger had stabbed into his side. “And I thought you liked me. In fact, I was pretty fucking sure you did. Like I’ve never been more confident of anything in my life. You were terrible at the game; I was constantly having to save you. And every time I did, you would just look at me like I was amazing, like I was—I dunno—your hero or something, and nobody’s ever looked at me like that. But then you slit my throat right at the end, and you sat there and laughed about it. Never even said you were sorry. And I’ve never felt so stupid because, clearly, those three months didn’t mean anything to you. It was all just a big joke at my expense.”

His words pierced your heart and made you feel cold all over. You shook your head, your eyes stinging with oncoming tears. “No, it wasn’t…”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, of course it was. You don’t care about D&D. You only joined so you could make fun of us.”

You cleared your throat, but your voice still sounded hoarse. “No, that’s not why I—”

“You weren’t taking it seriously at all. You were constantly going off on your own, taking on random side-quests that had nothing to do with the story. You were gambling in the tavern. Wasting all your gold on stupid shit you don’t need.”

“But that’s not why I joined,” you said. Eddie didn’t hear you.

“Then you played the sacred flute in the queen’s tomb when I specifically told you not to—”

“Eddie, listen to me: that’s not why I joined!”

“—and you disturbed the spirits of all her servants and we almost died. Yeah, and you were laughing at that too, because that’s what you do. You laugh at me and mock me and make fun of everything I like ‘cause—”

“OH MY GOD, I WAS TRYING TO IMPRESS YOU!”

You screamed these words so loud it almost tore your vocal cords. The sound bounced off the walls and smacked you right in the face. You put your head in your hands, started rubbing your throbbing temples. All this yelling had given you such an awful headache.

“I worked so hard to learn that game. I had to beg my neighbor to teach me. Yeah, my neighbor. I spent two weeks playing D&D with a bunch of kids in Mike Wheeler’s basement. And it was confusing, and I didn’t get it. I still don’t get it. It was really hard and frustrating, but I did it, Eddie. I did it for you. Because I wanted to be around you and talk to you. Actually, talk to you. And I did… or at least my character did. She was oozing charisma and was just, you know, overall a total badass, but it was still me at the end of the day.”

You frowned deeply, guiltily, feeling like a criminal about to receive their sentence. “I got a little carried away, though… and, yeah, I sacrificed you to a demon for the ultimate power. It wasn’t even a good power, to be honest. Scottie had to pull something out of his ass, and it totally broke the game. I shouldn’t have accepted it in the first place, but I did, and I’m really sorry, but I didn’t think it was gonna make you as mad as it did. And you have every right to be mad at me and, I guess, kill me in your head, but don’t sit there and tell me those three months didn’t mean anything to me because you have no idea what they meant to me, so… shut up.”

You said the words and jumped away from them, sliding down the wall, into a ball, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. Eddie was sitting in your peripheral, nothing more than a black-and-brown blur to your eyes. You stole a glance at him once and wished you hadn’t. He was staring at you with a stunned expression, as if his entire world had been turned upside down.

“I’m the one who ruined your night, Eddie,” you confessed in a broken voice, on the verge of tears. “Chrissy would’ve danced with you. She really would have. The only reason she didn’t is because she didn’t wanna hurt my feelings. She knew it would absolutely destroy me to see you dancing with her, so… yeah, I guess I robbed you of your one great memory, and I’m sorry for that, too.”

You tore your eyes away and wiped them dry.

For the longest time, Eddie didn’t say anything, and you started to feel like a nervous Catholic sitting in a confessional. You had just spilled all your dirty sins, and now you were waiting for the priest to tell you to say ten Hail Marys in penance. Except now you were starting to think the priest wasn’t even in the booth, that you had just divulged all your darkest secrets for nothing.

Just as you were about to die of shame, you felt Eddie slump down beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours.

“You liked me?” he said. “This whole time?”

“Yeah…”

Eddie threw his head back and started to laugh—a slow, agonized laugh.

“Goddammit,” he said. “I feel like I got short-changed here.”

That made you shudder and squirm away.

Eddie saw this and reached for you. “Oh no, I… I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I just wish I’d known, y’know? Long before tonight.” His smile was sad and full of regret. It made you want to cry. “You would’ve saved me a lot of heartache. A lot of years spent wondering why nobody seemed to want me. And now I find out you’ve been here this whole time, and you’re awesome and smart and funny and beautiful—I mean, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted—and now you’re leaving. In a couple months, you’re gonna be going to college, and I’m… I don’t know where I’m going, but it’s definitely not where you’re going, and that is just fucking tragic. Yeah, that’s just my luck, isn’t it?”

He laughed again, or tried to anyway. “You learned D&D for me.”

“Yeah…”

“You read Lord of the Rings for me.”

“Yeah… Actually, I’ve read it a couple times. It’s kinda my new favorite book. I’ve also read The Hobbit and half The Silmarillion, but that book is a chore to get through. Like, I’m really struggling with that one.”

“Well, I haven’t even attempted it, so that’s already very impressive to me. I really appreciate your dedication.”

You smiled at him. “Yeah, I tend to go all in…”

Eddie tipped his head at you, holding in a smile of his own. “You came to my shows… more than a couple, I’m assuming.”

“Yeah… and I didn’t go for the wings, either.”

Eddie nodded, a smirk crawling up his face. “Yeah, see… I kinda already figured that ‘cause… they don’t even serve wings at The Hideout.”

“Oh,” you said with a sheepish pout. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure… and, y’know, even if they do, you definitely shouldn’t be eating them ‘cause they’ll probably kill you.”

You put your hand over your mouth and giggled. Eddie watched you with an affectionate eye.

“That was a very convincing lie, though,” he went on. “I mean, you almost had me believing you for a second.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty good at thinking on my feet.”

“Yeah, I noticed. It’s actually one of the things I really like about you… Oh, and I really enjoyed your ‘invisible date’ bit, by the way. Yeah, it was highly entertaining.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I had a lot of fun with it.”

“Yeah, I could tell… You were very committed to the joke. In fact, I’m pretty sure two of those girls still think you were being serious.”

You and Eddie snickered at that for a minute, falling into each other, and as your laughter slowly petered out, a strange silence consumed you both. It made you blush like crazy, and you didn’t know why. Then “Missing You” by John Waite started to play, with its sappy, pining lyrics, and you felt your insides knot up like balloon art. You became very aware of Eddie’s knee pressed against yours. His elbow against yours. His hands nervously wringing together, fingers twisting the snowflake obsidian ring on his right hand…

“Hey,” Eddie said in a low voice, making your heart jump.

You shyly dragged your eyes up to his, found them locked on you with a soft, heavy-lidded stare. “Yeah?”

“Can I, umm… Can I kiss you?”

You sucked in a shaky breath. You could feel your heart thudding madly in your chest. “Do you always ask?”

“Uhhh, no,” Eddie said, and let loose a nervous laugh. “I just, uh… I don’t really know the rules with you. Yeah, I’m kinda worried you might, y’know, slap me in the face or something.”

“Well… try me,” you said, your whole body vibrating with anticipation.

Eddie gave you a look that said, Really? Okay… and then he licked his lips and leaned in, reaching you way faster than you were prepared for. Suddenly, his face was just inches from yours, and getting closer, and you couldn’t remember how lips worked. Were you supposed to pucker them? Stack them? How would you stop your noses from bumping?

And for some reason, you reeled away and blurted out in an anxious whisper, “You know, your nose looks really big up close.”

Eddie pulled back a little, then laughed. You could feel the heat of it on your lips. “There it is,” he said. “I knew there’d be an insult waiting for me.”

And before you could say anything else, Eddie pressed his lips against yours and sealed them shut with a gentle kiss. Just one. As he drew back, his dark brown eyes searched yours with an earnestness that made your heart throb with a painful, sweet ache.

Is this okay? they asked. Are you okay?

And when you didn’t say no, he drew you in by your chin and kissed you again and again, his lips moving against yours with a feverish intensity that made you whimper against him. His hands moved to the lapels of his jacket, gripping them like he was afraid you were going to pull away. As if you would ever pull away. This was the moment you’d been waiting for. All those years spent staring at him from across the lunchroom. Waiting around the school parking lot, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Sitting behind him. Smiling at him. Laughing at him. Saying, Way to go, Munson! whenever he failed a test. You fell on your face a hundred times. Made a complete ass of yourself. But it was all worth it because here you were, with him, and it was perfect. It was everything you ever wanted, and yet…

There was a bitter taste in your mouth. You put your hand on Eddie’s chest and pushed him away.

“What?” said Eddie. “What’s wrong?”

You kept your eyes lowered, hiding from him. When Eddie finally nudged your chin up, he saw your eyes were wet and sparkling with tears.

“You came here for Chrissy,” you whispered.

Eddie’s brow wrinkled. “What?”

“You came here for Chrissy,” you said louder, forcing out the words. “And now, what, now you’re settling for me?”

Eddie’s face fell. It was like you had just slapped him in the face.

You wrenched yourself out of his arms and staggered to your feet. Let his jacket drop from your shoulders and fall to the floor.

“She’s your dream girl, Eddie. Those are your words. If Chrissy had said yes to you tonight, you wouldn’t even be looking at me right now. I mean, my god, an hour ago I was dead to you, and now… now you’re touching my face and saying, ‘Where have you been all my life?’ Like what the fuck! What am I even supposed to say to that?”

Eddie just sat there, his mouth hanging open in stupefaction.

“What are you doing?” he rasped. “I know you can’t possibly be thinking that right now, not after everything I just…” Eddie closed his mouth and gave his head a slight shake. “Look, you’re just panicking, and I don’t… yeah, I don’t really know why, but umm… Hey, don’t, don’t go… Please, don’t go… Where are you going?”

You felt your back slam against the exit door. You started fumbling around for the handle.

“They’re gonna be announcing the vote soon,” you said. “I need to go watch my best friend be crowned prom queen. I need to go smile and cheer her on because that’s what I do. It’s the only thing I do, so…”

You closed your hand around the handle and pulled, but before going out, you turned back and looked at Eddie one last time, swallowing all the sadness welled in your throat.

“You know, I uhh… I think you’re great, Eddie. I’ve always thought you were great. And this, umm, this was perfect. Yeah, this was more than enough, so… bye, Eddie. I guess I’ll see you around school.”

You took a deep breath and walked out… but you only made it a few steps before you stopped, buried your face in your hands, and started to cry. You cried until your head hurt. Until your eyes were red and swollen. Until your throat was raw and your lips were dry. You cried until you couldn’t cry anymore. And then you sucked it up, dabbed your eyes, and reentered the dance hall with a smile.

A carved, hollow smile.

_____________________

PREV // CURRENT // NEXT

#eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #chrissy cunningham #jason carver #chrissy x jason #stranger things 4 #st4 #ambrossart #I don’t understand d&d #I’m just making it up as I go #dancing with myself #dwm

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edenfenixblogs · 2 months

Text

Spent the day with a friend and it was so fun. If every day could be like today, I’d stay where I currently live.

But even we very carefully avoided discussing המצב so it was still like we were living in different worlds.

The closest I got to bringing it up was when she complimented the Drawfee posters on my wall and I was like, “Thanks, I’m looking to replace them though.” It was a belated bday celebration for her from when I was out of town and had to miss her initial celebration. I didn’t want to be a downer, so I avoided bringing it up as much as possible and I def didn’t tell her I’m moving within the year.

She will easily be the person I’ll miss most here. She’s been the only person I can text about antisemitism any time, but I think even she may have muted me on here. Which I understand. But the people back home haven’t muted me. And I don’t have to pretend to be ok around them.

And ultimately, I’m living half a life here because I don’t want to beg people to care about me. And if my suffering is so great that they have to look away, then it should also be enough for them to check on me about proactively.

Hanging out with a friend and not talking about everything was so nice it was like breathing fresh air after being stuck in a musty cave. But she went home and I feel like I’m suffocating again.

It’s so overwhelming. The isolation is so impossibly overwhelming I cannot even begin to explain it to people who aren’t going thru it.

It’s the kind of thing that would make me ask myself, “Is it me?! Is it just that I’m bad to be around and that nobody likes me?” Except I know it’s not, because a whole group of people back home—both related to me and not related to me—do actually get it and check in on me. When the chips are down, I know they have my back more than anyone else. And so for me and for the future I’m building, I have to go back.

It’s such a brutal blow. But this friend? I will miss her more than anyone else in this whole state and I hope she doesn’t fall out of touch with me. So many emotions, dudes. It’s all so much. I keep wanting to actively unpack the trauma of it all but I can’t because it’s still happening.

One positive thing that comes from all this is that can move up my timeline of when I start trying to get pregnant, which is awesome. I’m ready for that part of my life. Even though I’m sure maternity leave in my new state will suck worse than it would here, financially and time wise. But at least I’ll have a lot of familial support when I’m back home, which I wouldn’t have here.

Now I just gotta pray I’m actually able to get home and that I’m actually able to get pregnant. 😬😬😬😬

#personal #trauma stuff #SMBC journey #some good stuff #some bad stuff #life and the future are complicated but very worth living

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munsster · 1 year

Note

may i gently request MORE kat-stratford-esque reader with an enemies to lovers with billy, please?

10 things i hate about billy hargrove headcanons

A/N: ur so right anon. the urge to word vomit all about grungy, stubborn billy and his grungy, stubborn s/o

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader, 10 Things I Hate About You AU

Warnings: 10 things i hate about you au, two assholes in love, enemies to lovers, fluff, hurt(?)/comfort, established relationship, arguing, cursing (cuz i cant control myself around expletives), minor slut-shaming

the story the headcanons

before the whole ‘being bribed’ ordeal, you two knew each other

well, knew of each other

you both had reputations and you were both pretty good at upholding them

you heard the buzz about the new guy from california and his nice ass and his loud music

and he heard about the chick who used to be a popular girl (and a slut, he heard) and then became a loner

so yeah you both had your fortified walls and your differences and your social norms to keep track of

however,,,,,

you’re both also smart enough to know the other is bullshitting immediately after actually having a conversation

he couldn’t wrap his head around why you isolated yourself

after all, you used to be cool (i mean, he heard you got pretty close with harrington more than once. that’s gotta count for something)

and you couldn’t wrap your head around why anyone cares about his ass (no matter how nice it may be)

tldr; the only things you knew about each other came from someone else

also tldr; recipe for disaster

then he’s forced to speak to you and vice versa—yadda yadda—and sure he’s not some jackass stoner and you’re not some shut-in vampire

and maybe he did feel a spark as cliché as that may sound

and maybe he’s not so big and bad, he’s just some new kid

and basically what you’re both thinking is…….. ayo r we aboutta kiss rn 👀

…

NAH im just playin, you fuckin hate each other

HE’S SUCH A JACKASS, ARE YOU KIDDING???

AND YOU’RE SUCH A BITCH. BFFR.

but maybe you’re lonely (you’d never admit it) and maybe he really needs the cash (steve harrington cash cow sugar daddy), so why the hell not

not like it’ll go anywhere.

that would be ridiculous.

👁️🫦👁️

okay so what you like the music he plays when he gives you rides and so what he thinks you’re kinda pretty when you smile and SO WHAT you both have fun when he causes a ruckus over air-hockey at the arcade and you both end up laughing and calling it a tie anyway

it literally doesn’t mean anything

he hates you, and you hate him

yeah….. you hate each other!!!!! duh….

that’s why there’s an awkward silence whenever he glances at your lips for a split second and that’s why you both pull away when your hands brush in the popcorn bucket and that’s why your dates always end with both of you grinning while he watches you duck back through your door

because you HATE each other 😝

honestly, after all is said and done, it’s really silly how nobody saw this happening before

because you’re both definitely smart enough to have connected the dots

but actually, common sense must’ve dipped out the back when you said yes to that first date

oh and all the “so are you two…. are you…???”

“ew gross no, i just….. i’d feel bad saying no, yunno? it’d probably bruise his ego”

and don’t even mention the “have you two…done it?”

“yeah right, i wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole if my life depended on it”

so basically everyone’s silently rooting for the two of you

because if they did it out loud, they’d probably get socked. by both of you. at the same time.

wait okay, because now all i’m imagining is how everyone thinks you guys probably duke it out like MONSTERS

like everyone knows your fights are VICIOUS and you’re both definitely like that behind closed doors

except you two are actually laying on the couch, sound asleep with his head on your chest and your hands in his hair

but it’s only because the movie was boring and it’s been a long week, duh, this would never happen under normal circumstances……..

except it happens all the time

like eventually it’s just routine for you two to nap on the couch under the guise of a shitty movie and busy schedules

oh the excuses

its always, but he sucks, and well she’s a bitch

and you both just have to keep coming up with new ones to avoid confrontation with your feelings

*sigh* if only someone hated me enough to cuddle with me and take me mini-golfing and sing me to sleep and braid my hair and make me mixtapes

you just know the final realization is GUTTING

you’re both like: holy fucking shit no i don’t love him/her, i just think he’s/she’s funny and actually really beautiful and nice to be around and makes me feel comfortable and safe and happy for once in my life—holy fucking shit i guess i love him/her

and then it’s all super awkward and dodgy and you both make excuses not to hang out but also when you don’t hang out, you both get really miserable and upset and unbearable

like everyone knows the days you two aren’t talking because you’re both nightmares

speaking of talking: you two talk about each other so much, people have to ask you to shut up. please.

the first time you meet max, she’s like “oh, i’ve heard so much about you. like literally. so much.”

and you’re both like 😳

and billy just drags you away from her before she can say anything else

bonus: once you and max get closer, all you two do is snicker and yap about how billy sucks (lovingly) and how boys suck in general and how max should just ask lucas out

you’re definitely her long lost older sister

seriously, billy has to pry you away from max if he wants to hang out with you

you’re inseparable

it’s obnoxious

and max starts a counter for every time billy references you (in a negative or positive way)

and before he’s even asked you out on a second date, the counter is up to fifty

……. okay now don’t even get me started on the actual relationship

like how you guys would be Lovers

with a capital L

all that hate would turn into love slowly but so, so surely

it confuses everyone, but it’s also really cute.

and gross.

the PDA 🙄 😍

there is no stopping you two

it’s too late, you’re a power couple, sorry

you going to all of his games and practices (you read the whole time, but it’s the thought that counts)

and him taking you to concerts (even though he doesn’t really like your favorite band. it’s still your favorite. and you’re his favorite)

yeah…..

masterlist

#billy hargrove x you #billy hargove x reader #billy stranger things #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove headcanons #headcanons #stranger things #x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #fluff #x fem!reader #billy hargrove #enemies to lovers #10 things i hate about you

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raspberryfingers · 1 year

Text

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 10)

With the war over, the mood within the Red Keep seemed generally improved. This was especially true for Tywin and my grandmother, who no longer had to strain their pockets. Of course, the Lannister mines still supplied tremendous wealth, but why spend money when it’s not needed?

More than anything, I’d been happy to report the news back to Tywin.

I could recall vividly returning to the Red Keep—with nobody except for my family and Tywin being aware of why I’d left at all—and making my way up the stairs in the Tower of the Hand.

When I’d been let into Tywin’s office, he had looked at me with an almost relieved face.

“(Y/N), you’re back. When I hadn’t received a raven- well it had made me nervous,” he’d said, rising from his desk and making his way toward me.

“What happened? You got here quicker than any spies could have.”

When I had merely smiled at him, he’d instantly understood. He had smiled at me then, and he took me into his arms.

“I told you I could convince him, Tywin.”

“Oh I know, dear girl. I never doubted you. If anyone in the seven kingdoms was going to convince Robb Stark, it had to be you,” he’d whispered, admittedly making me blush.

“You flatter me, Tywin.”

“I’m merely telling the truth. I’m proud of you. What other man or woman that you know could’ve done that? Ended a years long war overnight. Only you, (Y/N). My nightshade of the garden.”

And even besides Tywin, I had received thank you’s from everyone but Cersei. Even Joffrey had called me into the throne room and told me I’d done a good job. Though, he did say he would’ve preferred Robb Stark dead, but I was saving him money. It was abundantly obvious Tywin had told him to thank me, but at least he’d done it.

Still, it did not make me hate the boy any less. Especially when I remembered he was going to marry Margaery at the end of the week. It was that event which had brought all sorts of people to King's Landing, and had made living in the Red Keep miserable.

Although, I was informed that the Red Viper, or Oberyn Martell, was present in the city. After learning that, a genius idea sparked in my head. When I presented it to my grandmother, she approved wholeheartedly. And so now, I found myself in Littlefinger’s brothel, hoping to have a nice conversation with the prince of Dorne.

Thankfully, when I walked in, everyone still had their clothes on.

“Prince Oberyn?”

A head shot up from among the bodies, and everyone else on the bed seemed to notice I was there.

“I am Prince Oberyn, who are you?” He asked, sitting up and looking at me.

“I’m (Y/N) Tyrell, your grace. I’ve come here to speak with you about something rather important,” I announced. He gave me a contemplative look, and then motioned for everyone else to leave, including a woman who he kissed rather passionately. I assumed that was Ellaria Sand.

When the room was empty, he sat at the edge of the bed and raised an eyebrow.

“What is it you’ve come to discuss, Lady (Y/N)?” He asked, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a sip.

“It’s less of a discussion and more of a proposition for you, Prince Oberyn, as your hatred for the Lannisters is rather well known,” I began, taking a seat on a nearby couch. I tried not to think about it too much.

“Are you here to blackmail me? Everyone knows you and Lord Tywin are quite close,” he remarked, crossing his arms and sighing. I chose to ignore the last comment.

“No, I’m not. I’m hoping this will be beneficial for both of us, granted you’re bold enough to do what I’d like you to,” I said, watching his curiosity be piqued.

“And what is that?”

“Prince Oberyn, I’m sure you’ve heard all the stories about our king. He is cruel, stupid, and unwilling to actually rule Westeros,” I began, giving some context for what I was going to ask.

“Of course.”

“Let me ask you, would you want your sister to marry someone like Joffrey?”

He sat up straighter, and his eyes darkened.

“No, but it’s not as if she could, because under someone’s orders, the mountain murdered her and her children.”

“I’m aware, Prince Oberyn. That’s why I’ve come to you, because you have quite a lot of reason to want revenge on the Lannisters, and I want Joffrey gone,” I said, hinting to him what I needed.

“You want me to kill the king?”

He did not sound surprised, or shocked. In fact, a small grin began to tug at his lips.

“No. I want you to take responsibility for it. Well, unless you’d like to kill him yourself, then be my guest. You see, originally my grandmother thought we might work with Littlefinger himself, he’s got quite the network and would naturally be able to help us. However, with my brother married to Sansa Stark, that was no longer a viable person for us to reach out to. Or rather, for my grandmother to. When she revealed the plot to me, I assured her I’d be able to take care of it myself. I’ve got quite the knowledge of poisons, and I wouldn’t have a hard time getting my hands on some if I truly wanted to. So I did,” I began to explain, gauging his reaction as I spoke.

“However, therein is the problem, I’m already known as the nightshade of the garden, and Cersei does not like me very much. If her son dies of poisoning… well, I’m sure you understand how that would look,” I said, to which he nodded.

“The blame will be on you, of course.”

“Exactly, and that trial would not bode well for me, not to mention ruin nearly everything for my family. But you. When I heard about you being in Kings Landing instead of your brother, I was overjoyed. As I said, you famously hate the Lannisters for what happened to your sister, and I-“

“Not all the Lannisters. Just Lord Tywin,” he said, a slight venom in his tone. I smiled, knowing he wished to make me uncomfortable for associating with him.

“You know, Prince Oberyn, it’s a funny thing. When Lord Tywin and I first began interacting with each other, I detested him. He and I had quite the argument, and your sister was the primary reason. Yes, I have come to enjoy Lord Tywin over time, but there are many things we heavily disagree upon, and there are many things that I hate him for. What happened to your sister is in that category, and I do not blame you for hating him for it. That’s why I’ve come to you with this proposition. To kill his grandson right under his nose would infuriate him, it would make him look weak. To him, that is worse than dying,” I explained, watching the thoughts process in his head. His posture was more attentive, and I could see that slowly he was being convinced, though this conversation was clearly not over.

“Yes, it would embarrass Lord Tywin, and I would have my head removed. Because that is what you want, right? Me to admit to his murder so that you are not blamed?” He clarified, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Not necessarily. You wouldn’t have to admit to it until later. Perhaps- well, let me explain what would happen. Joffrey would be poisoned, either by you or me, at his wedding. He’d die, Cersei would be furious, naturally. Depending on how long it takes her to actually start thinking, my time is limited, but the hope is that I somehow manage to find Tyw- Lord Tywin and tell him I believe it was you. I can explain my reasoning, say that I wouldn’t have done it with poison for it would’ve been too obvious. But, if Cersei does figure it out quickly I suspect he’ll come visit me in the cells anyways. He’ll want to know if I’ve truly betrayed him that way. Which of course, I have, but it’s not for him to know,” I began, explaining the first several steps in my plan.

“But, either way, I would install the thought into Tywin, give him-“

“You keep calling him Tywin. Just Tywin. You are close to him, aren’t you?” Oberyn interrupted, beginning to grin. I took a deep breath.

“Yes, I am. I suppose I might as well just admit that I’ve fallen in love with him, as everyone else seems to have figured that out too,” I said with a sigh. Prince Oberyn chuckled.

“You’re in love with him, yet you desire to betray him. Why?”

“I don’t desire to betray him, but I will. For my sister, I will. I refuse to see her married to Joffrey, to see her harmed and used by him. His younger brother is far more agreeable, and will make Margaery much safer and happier. For that, I would do anything,” I admitted, pressing my hands together and hoping he would understand.

“You are much like I am, then. When Elia was alive, I would’ve done anything for her. She was always my favorite, always my dear sister,” he said softly, looking down and smiling solemnly.

“And that is why I’m giving you the opportunity to kill the mountain without any consequences.”

His face shot up at that, confused and curious. I smiled.

“I will instill the thought that you’re guilty into Tywin’s mind. You will leave another crystal of the poison where you sat, and will naturally be arrested. Once this happens, you will be given a trial. At that trial, don’t say a thing. They’ll ask you questions, don’t answer. Demand a trial by combat,” I said, watching as it fell into place for him.

“The Lannisters will pick the mountain to fight me, and if I win, he’s dead and there are no legal consequences for me,” he finished, making me nod.

“Exactly. Granted that you do live, of course. That is the only risk, and what I believed you’d be most hesitant about,” I reasoned.

I watched him think, and the room was silent for a good minute.

“I will beat the mountain, and I will poison Joffrey myself, that way I am truly responsible for the crime,” he finally said, looking over at me. I nodded.

“Thank you, Prince Oberyn. When you do it, do it in front of everyone. Go up to Joffrey and Margaery, both of them will have an additional glass of wine, a different kind meant for dessert. Put the poison in Joffrey’s cup, it’ll be larger than Margaery’s. Make small talk with them, come off as offensive, perhaps smell the wine and comment that it’s quite nice, then pour the poison in while he’s not looking. The point is, let people see that you were near him and touching his cup,” I explained, already having everything perfectly envisioned.

“What if the cup should spill?”

“My grandmother will have a backup. I’ve picked out The Strangler for our king,” I revealed, making my way across the room and handing Oberyn a small, purple crystal. He looked up at me and raised an eyebrow.

“Have you ever seen this poison in action before?” He asked curiously.

“No, but I know what will happen. I don’t mean to be cruel, but I already knew where to find some of this, not to mention it will dissolve perfectly in his wine,” I said, watching Oberyn get up and store it in a small box, which he locked afterwards.

“Can I tell you something, Lady (Y/N)? Since we are being honest with each other,” he asked, facing me as he leaned against the wall.

“Of course,” I said, wondering what I might hear from him.

“I was going to poison Lord Tywin. Slowly, so he wouldn’t notice, but I intended to kill him,” he revealed. My mouth fell open, and a certain fear gripped me. I would not allow Tywin to be harmed, no matter what the cost.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t done it yet, and I don’t think I will. You’re right, this embarrassment will be worse for him. And, you seem to be a reasonable woman, from all that I’ve heard and my impression of you from this conversation. You’re smart. If you are in love with Lord Tywin, I will leave him be, simply out of respect,” he said, smiling. I still felt unnerved, but I nodded.

“Thank you, Prince Oberyn. I hated Tywin for years, nearly half of my life, in fact. As I said, he’s done things I’ll never forgive nor forget, but the man he is with me… he’s not Tywin Lannister, Warden of the West and Lord of Casterly Rock. He’s just… just Tywin,” I said, thinking about the times I’d seen him engaged in politics versus how he was with me. They were two different men.

“And I would wager that to him, you are not the Nightshade of the Garden, or Lady Tyrell. To him, you are probably just (Y/N),” Oberyn replied with a smile.

“And what makes you think that?”

“You become the best version of yourself around the people that you love.”

—————

I had returned to the Red Keep, excited to report my success to my grandmother. However, when I arrived at her room, she wasn’t there. According to her guards, she was waiting for me in my room.

I sighed, wishing she’d have told me that before I’d bothered walking all that way. It was curious, too. Why would she go to my room? She knew I was going to speak with Oberyn, but I hadn’t told her before I’d left.

When I got there and went inside, I found her sitting at my table with a letter in her hand. I didn’t think much of it yet.

“Grandmother. I went to your room first, I wanted to tell you that Prince Oberyn has agreed, we had quite the conversation about it, and-“

“(Y/N), dear.”

I paused, eyebrows raising as my grandmother addressed me.

“What?”

“Come sit down with me, please,” she said softly. There was a look of sadness in her eyes, and I felt my heart drop. I had no clue what to expect, but regardless I was terrified. Had something happened to Tywin?

“What is it, grandmother?” I asked, hurrying to sit down and praying to the gods it wasn’t horrible. Or at least, something so horrible I might cry. Was it Loras? Had something happened to the Starks?

“Your father came into my room about an hour ago, far happier than he ought to have been. He gave me this,” she said, handing me the letter.

I unfolded it and immediately began to read, my throat dry and my hands shaking slightly. If my father had been happy about it, I knew it could only mean one thing.

—————

I was running up the stairs, skirts clutched in my hands and tears running down my face. My grandmother had tried to console me, but it was useless, I’d run out of the room anyways.

I nearly tripped as I tried to make my way up all the stairs in the tower of the hand, which certainly weren’t easy to climb in my current condition. When I reached the top, I was somehow sobbing even harder.

All I wanted was to see Tywin.

The guards outside his office recognized me by now, and when they saw my tears, they only looked between each other awkwardly and opened the door.

I burst in, body racking with sobs as I made my way toward Tywin. He was sitting at his desk, but when the door opened and he saw me, he instantly rose and rushed toward me.

“(Y/N)?”

I said nothing, but threw myself into his arms. I heard the door close behind me, and I finally let myself fall apart. My face was buried into his chest and gods I couldn’t stop crying. I felt his arms wrap around me, and one hand came to my head while the other was holding my waist on the other side.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)? What happened?” He asked softly, petting my hair as I wept.

“M-My father,” I managed to get out, choking on my tears and pushing my face into Tywin’s neck. It was warm, and his scent brought a great comfort.

“Your father?”

“Walder Frey- Walder Frey sent him a letter, r-requesting that I marry his eldest son,” I cried out, clutching Tywin for dear life. In all honesty, I believed my life was over. I’d told Tywin I’d need to marry soon, but I certainly hadn’t expected it to be now, nor to a son of Walder Frey of all people.

I felt Tywin inhale, and he pulled me back to look me in the eyes.

“Don’t worry yourself about it, (Y/N), I’ll convince your father not to. I’ll convince him to-“

“No! No, Tywin, that’s just it, he’s already sent a reply and he’s accepted!” I choked out, hot tears still streaming down my face as I shook. I pushed myself back into his arms, disconsolate and an absolute mess.

Tywin was silent, and normally I would’ve thought it strange, but I was in so much distress that I couldn’t even be bothered to think about it.

“Father believed it would cause conflict to say no, especially because Tyrion is marrying one of Walder Frey’s daughters. So he sent the raven without even bothering to tell me,” I said between sobs, wishing more than anything that I could just stay in Tywin’s arms forever, that I wouldn’t have to get married to anyone.

“(Y/N), you mustn’t worry.”

“I don’t want to get married, Tywin! I don’t want to get married and I don’t want to marry one of Walder Frey’s sons. I don’t want to- I can’t- I can’t…” I was beginning to hyperventilate, so distressed at the thought of being shipped off to live at the Twins. And once that was dealt with, my name would fade away just as every other woman’s did.

“(Y/N) listen to me, I’m going to speak with your father and convince him this isn’t wise,” Tywin said, stepping back and lifting my chin so I’d look at him. I shook my head.

“That’s just it, Tywin. My father doesn’t listen to anyone. He does whatever he pleases, he’s not going to- to listen to you or me for that matter,” I said, sniffling as Tywin brought his hands to my cheeks and wiped the tears away.

It was useless, of course, they just kept falling, and I kept spiraling. My gaze fell and I continued to hyperventilate.

“I don’t want to marry Walder Frey’s son. I don’t want to marry at all! There’s only one man I’d ever marry and it’s most certainly not Walder Frey’s son! I just want to be left alone, I want to stay the head of the Tyrell army and live in peace!” I spewed, hardly even processing what I was saying. Tywin’s eyes went wide, though I hadn’t realized what I’d said yet.

“(Y/N), breathe!” He said sharply, taking my hand in his and pressing it to my chest.

“Take deep breaths. Calm down,” he said softly, watching me try to take slower, longer breaths through my tears. When I no longer sounded erratic, he dropped his hand.

“I would rather kill myself than marry him,” I whispered, lip quivering. Tywin sighed and wiped my tears again. When he finished, looked down.

“You’re not going to, I’ll make sure of it.”

“Tywin, my father-“

“I’m not going to try and convince your father. I’m going to take care of Walder Frey’s son,” he said. My eyes shot up, and I was certain the surprise I felt was painted all over my face.

“Tywin… he doesn’t need to die. I don’t want to marry him but he doesn’t- he doesn’t deserve that,” I said, truly hoping he wouldn’t do such a thing.

“I don’t care. You can’t marry a dead man. Your father can arrange as many marriages for you as he likes, I’ll make sure none of them happen. I will have every single man in Westeros murdered before I see you married to them,” he said, hand coming under my chin. My heart began to skip, and my tears were ceasing to fall. What was he insinuating? We were both silent, simply gazing into each other's eyes.

“Tywin…”

“I will never let another man have you, (Y/N). Do you understand? You may not want to be mine, but until the day I die, you will be no one else’s. I could not stand to live and watch another man make you smile, to watch him hold you and kiss you. And more than that, I won’t stand by and watch you be miserable with Walder Frey’s son. I won’t see you happy with someone else, (Y/N), but I can’t see you unhappy with anyone at all,” he whispered, hands coming to both of my cheeks as he looked deep into my eyes.

My lips parted, and my entire body felt hot. My heart would not stop racing, and I feared I must’ve looked like a fool, because I felt another tear slide down my cheek. I was utterly overwhelmed.

Tywin was in love with me?

He was gazing at me with all the love and passion in the world, and I’d never seen him look so gorgeous. His eyes were the same turquoise blue they’d been in the sept at Loras’ wedding, but he looked as if he might cry. He looked so overcome with all of his feelings, just as I was with mine.

“Tywin…” I whispered, feeling two more tears fall. He looked terrified, as if he was waiting for me to be disgusted with him. I noticed it then, a tear falling from his own cheek.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, (Y/N), please… forgive me,” he whispered. His hands fell from my face, and my heart dropped as I watched him take a step back with his eyes on the ground.

He thought his feelings were unrequited.

“No! No… Tywin… Tywin, I love you. I love you!” I managed to gasp out, my throat dry and emotions a mess. I couldn’t let this slip, I couldn’t ruin this. He’d just admitted he felt the same way I did, I needed to do something.

When he processed what I’d said, his eyes widened, and he looked me in the eyes again. I watched his lips part, and he exhaled as if he’d been holding in a breath. There was a moment of silence, and I suddenly saw something spark in his eyes.

Tywin inhaled, and stepped back towards me. One of his hands came to my face, and he was so close I could hear his breath shaking. He moved his other hand, and licked his lips nervously as if trying to figure out where to put it. All of his actions were quick, and my heart was pounding so much I thought it might explode.

His other hand settled at my waist, and when he looked at me again, I knew.

Tywin hesitated for two seconds, and then—in one swift movement—pressed his lips to mine. I instantly kissed back, and I was so relieved I thought I might sob. I brought one hand to his face, and let the other come to the back of his head and bring him closer to me.

His lips were the closest to heaven I suspected I’d ever get, and I could feel his stubble brushing against my face. The hand on my hip pulled me closer, and for a moment, we broke apart and took sharp inhales. Our eyes caught each other, and we couldn’t keep ourselves from staring and trying to catch our breaths.

“Tywin…”

“(Y/N)…”

Both of his hands came to my face now, and he simply looked at me. I wished, in that moment more than ever, that I could know what he was thinking. But he smiled at me, truly smiled, and that told me all I needed to know. I smiled too, of course, and let my eyes close as he leaned back in and pressed a soft, sweet kiss to my lips.

“Tywin I never thought you’d- you’d feel the same,” I whispered, thinking about all the times I reprimanded myself after wanting to hold him or kiss him.

He laughed, and gave me a look that said ‘really?’

“You never thought I’d feel the same? You can imagine how I felt. Most of the time I wondered if you still hated me, I-“

I gave him a look, and he realized how ridiculous he sounded.

“Yes, I apologize. I’m aware I was quite unfair to you,” he said, making me giggle with satisfaction.

“When did you- when did you realize?” He asked after a moment, swallowing anxiously.

“Well, I realized the day we discussed my brother marrying Sansa. My grandmother was prodding me about my relationship with you, and I- well, when I really thought about it I realized she was right. But I’d- I’d had feelings for you long before that. My feelings developed when we went hunting together, but I’d say I fell in love with you the day we went to the smith. You told me you’d cut that man’s tongue out, and you began to pull your sword at those men on the street. You made me- you made me feel safe, you made me feel cared for,” I admitted, trying hard to think about it. He smiled softly and kissed my forehead.

“I’ve had an attraction towards you since you yelled at me in the garden. I needed that, and it was almost like a challenge. I wanted to make you like me, simply so I could prove you wrong, and it piqued my interest. I fell in love with you the day, or rather the night we went hunting. You were asleep, and I had to move you to your blankets. You were so light in my arms, and I gave you another blanket so you wouldn’t be cold. Normally I wouldn’t even have considered something like that,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I smiled and buried my face in his chest, wrapping my arms around his torso. Gently, his arms came around me. By the way he was breathing, I could hear him smiling. One of his hands came to pet my hair, and I felt content.

“Tywin, I don’t want anyone else to know. I just want it to be us,” I said softly, lifting my head to look at him. He nodded.

“I was going to suggest the same. I don’t want my children getting involved, nor do I want others to know I have a weak point. It’s safer if we keep it a secret, at least until- well, until our relationship is more defined,” he said, eyes scanning my face.

“How do you mean, more defined?” I asked curiously. He seemed awkward as he tried to figure out a response.

“When you said there was only man you’d ever marry, who were you referencing?” He asked suddenly. I hadn’t even remembered saying that, but as I thought back, it hit me. It had been him I was referencing, of course.

When I looked up at him with a nervous face, he only smiled.

“You mean we’d only tell people if we were to get married?”

“Ideally, yes. Of course, relationships are much different than friendships, but I hope that eventually… well, it would just be smartest to do it then, should we be compatible and willing to marry each other,” he said, taking my hands in his. I thought I must’ve been dreaming. Perhaps Robb Stark’s best wishes had been fulfilled.

“O-Of course. And I’ve- I’ve truthfully never been in any sort of, well, committed relationship. So I was hoping you’d be patient, and perhaps more understanding,” I said nervously. He gave a small chuckle and kissed my forehead.

“Of course, my dear.”

That was new. Though, I rather liked it if I was honest.

When he pulled back, a question seemed to be on the tip of his tongue. I raised an eyebrow, motioning for him to ask it.

“What is the most you’ve ever done with a man? I don’t mind, I’d just like to know what I should be more… gentle with,” he said softly, giving my hand a squeeze.

“With a man?” I teased, watching a bit of shock settle into his face.

“Have you been with other women?”

“Not sexually, I’ve never been with anyone sexually. But I’ve kissed them once or twice, and perhaps I can see why men like it so much,” I admitted, gauging his reaction. I wondered if he might get upset. For a moment, he almost looked jealous.

“You’ve truly kissed other women?” He asked again. I nodded.

“I’ve told you before, Tywin, there’s nothing wrong with it. In the grand scheme of things, who cares? We live such short lives compared to all of history, why does it matter what we decide to do? The gods made our bodies beautiful for a reason, they gave us pleasure for a reason. If the gods cared so much, they wouldn’t have made us this way,” I said, cupping his face.

“You know, I’m surprised nobody has given you the title of bladed tongue yet. By all accounts you must be the most persuasive woman in all seven kingdoms,” he muttered, putting his hand on top of mine and kissing my palm.

“Thank you. And if it makes you feel better, Tywin, I prefer kissing you to anyone else. You’re the first person I’ve ever truly longed to kiss. Among other things,” I said, muttering the end to myself. If he noticed, it wasn’t obvious.

“Then kiss me again,” he said softly, gazing at my lips. I merely smiled and reached for his collar, pulling him toward me and doing as he’d suggested. He was so warm, and the feeling of butterflies in my stomach was still there. It was made even worse when his hands met my hips, his fingers gripping there and pulling me closer to him.

He broke away suddenly and inhaled, looking away.

“You blow on the fire inside of me, (Y/N). You make me need you,” he whispered, bringing his eyes back and gazing down at me. There were a lot of things I could’ve said, but I decided on this:

“Good. I want you to need me.”

As I said it, it was almost as if I saw lust sparking in his eyes, and it made me smile. I placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, and then began to walk out. When I reached the door, I turned and found him still standing there, looking at me in awe.

“I’ll see you soon, Tywin.”

“Of course, my dear.”

I smiled again and left the room, unable to keep myself from laughing when I’d shut the door behind me. I was positively giddy and over the moon with what had just happened. In fact, so much so, that I wouldn’t even remember why I’d gone to see him until the next time I spoke with my grandmother.

I did not want Walder Frey’s son to die, but in some cruel way, the thought of Tywin killing a man just so he could have me to himself was attractive, and dare I say even erotic.

I wanted to feel worse about the whole thing, but I simply couldn’t. I was Tywin’s now, just as he was mine. From that moment on, the two of us wouldn’t let a single thing stand between us. We loved each other, let the fearsome consequences come.

TAGLIST:

@cheyxfu @lemonscoffee @groovy-lady

@ladysindar @vesta-ro @exo-nova @paola-carter

@prettykinkysoul @nothing2113

@fullmoonshadowwrites @kishie8

@the-desilittle-bird @dianilaws

#tywin lannister #tywin lannister x reader #tywin x reader #tywin imagine #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #asoiaf #house lannister #first kiss #😁🫶#a lion in the garden

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the-expired-tofu · 11 months

Text

The Devil's Trumpets | Pt. 1

|| A 'The Glory' fanfic ||

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a/n: Hey there, this is my first time writing a fan fiction. I might change a few things in my fictions later on. Also, my English isn't my first language so my writing might lack some fluency. Hope you enjoy :) trigger warnings: bullying, murder, gore, depression, abuse, mature content, violence, sexual themes. pairing: reader x multi

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Y/N

“Y/N DID YOU MESS UP YOUR CUSTOMER’S ORDER AGAIN?” My manager yelled.

“I’m sorry, I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again,” I apologise as I bow in front of him, followed by a sharp pain of his slap right across my face. Gasps and whispers echoed in the room.

“Fifth time this month. Do you get what I'm saying? FIFTH TIME THIS MONTH!!! Am firing you next time you do this again. YOU HEAR ME?”

“Yes sir.”

He begins to walk away as I retreat back to clean the counter.

"Honey, you should go easier on her," The manager's wife whispered.

"Look, we are the only ones properly running this restaurant and we barely get any customers. This is the least i can do to atleast get more people.”

"Don't you think he's being too hard on her? She barely got a proper job after her graduation. He should be grateful that she even chose to work here," whispered one of my co-workers.

"I don't know. I heard she ran away from her house. We don't even have any information about her family. Don't you think it's all too suspicious?"

"Is Min-Hee really even her niece? Or is that a child she had out of wedlock?"

And so all the whispers followed. So many rumours yet none of those ever bothered me.

My shift is almost over.

I’ve been working at a fast food restaurant in Seoul for two years now. I live in an apartment few blocks away with Min-Hee, my four year old niece. Her parents were killed in an accident two years ago. Her mother, who was also my sister, had wished for me to take Min-Hee into custody. Quite many people were against this idea since I was financially unstable to raise her on my own. Today, I can say am financially stable enough to get Min-Hee into a school. The restaurant employees, including myself, are not well compensated. Payment of bills and rent is quite difficult for all of us. The money I make from my job was enough for me to manage a roof over our heads. Even though I never wanted to live like this, I am still grateful of the fact that I no longer live in Semyeong.

I finish my shift by depositing the rubbish outside in the restaurant's back yard. I was thinking of buying some noodles for Min-Hee on the way home when I notice a shadowy figure standing at the end of the street.

I didn't give it much thought until the person started walking towards me. Nobody else was on the street except me, and our restaurant had just been closed by one of my coworkers. It was 9:45 p.m. I don’t know where to go. I don’t have anything to protect myself with.

The faint light in the street helped me figure out the person’s appearance. The individual had their hair tied back as a low ponytail and wore a long grayish coat along with long loose pants. As the individual came more nearer, I could finally see the face. It’s a woman.

As she eventually approached me, I could finally recognize her. I felt chills running down my body when she got more closer. I remember who she is.

Moon Dong-Eun. After so many years. I was quite curious to what happened to her after she dropped out. The Moon Dong-Eun I remembered from high school feels like an entirely different person than the one standing right in front of me. But what the fuck is she doing here? How and why did she find me?

“It’s been quite a long time. How are you doing y/n?”

I didn’t say anything at first.

“You can say am doing fine I guess. I have a job now and…." I paused. I decided to stop blabbering and cut straight to the chase. "What are you doing here? How the hell did you even find me?”

“I will explain that later. I need your favour.”

“Favour?” I crossed my arms as I said so.

“Yes. I’ve been wanting to do this for quite many years now. I can even pay you if you want.”

“Pay me?" That's strange. "Okay. What is it that you need from me?” I ask hesitantly.

She doesn't say anything and looks around. Is she trying to look out for someone?

“I need you to go back to Semyeong.”

My arms dropped to my sides. The silence grew louder between us. I stood right there in disbelief. No, I cant go back there. Not when I have Min-Hee now, no. I worked hard to get away from that godforsaken place. No. I cant go back there.

“Sorry I cant. I cant just go back to Semyeong just because you asked me to. Am not going back even if you pay me. Since you’ve been able to find out where I live, you might already know that I have my niece to take care of. Sorry. Just find someone else.” I raise my hands as I try to dismiss our conversation and retreat away from her.

“I understand your reason. But don’t you think they're living their lives quite easily, after knowing what they’ve done to you? What they’ve done to us? Don’t you want revenge too-”

“Am sorry. I already told you, I cant go back there. I can barely afford anything these days, let alone go back to the hell I escaped from. Sorry, I wont help you.” I nod my head as I gather my things.

“It’s 10 pm. I have to get back.” I say after a pause. I start walking towards my apartment. Min-Hee is waiting for me.

“Yoon So-Hee was murdered.”

I stop dead in my tracks. Yoon So-Hee? Oh I remember her so well. Someone like us. Yoon So-Hee. She disappeared one day out of nowhere. Or so I was told. Nobody was able to find out what happened to her. Yoon So-Hee.

“What?” I turned around to face her.

She shows me a picture of a dull yellowish name tag. On it was carved in black “Park Yeon-Jin”. My mouth went completely dry. Yeon-Jin? She is behind the disappearance of So-Hee? How did Dong-Eun find that out?

“I mailed this name tag to the police right after I dropped out, hoping it would work, I was pretty naïve back then.”

“If you gave that to the police, how do you have the picture with you then?”

“I have my sources, which I can’t tell you yet.”

I keep staring at the name tag, did she really murder her? She willingly went that far to kill someone for her pride?

“After Yoon So-Hee’s disappearance, the police found a body of a girl in her teens with her skull cracked. Maybe she had few of her ribs broken as well. The body was found near the abandoned building of our school. Apparently, they did find a pink lighter at the roof of the building and never informed anyone outside their own people, but because of the snow, they couldn’t trace who it belonged to. The sweater she wore was burned too.”

All this information was just a lot for me take in. I just couldn’t say anything.

Dong-Eun takes my phone out of my hand and dials some random digits on it. She saves the number under her name. I need to put on a phone password.

“Call me if you ever change your mind. I’ll see you later.”

I stood there completely motionless as she walks away to the end of the street. She gets into her car and drives past me, didn’t even bother to look at me. What did she get herself into? How the hell did she manage to get hands on a confidential evidence? What will be her next move? She did mention she had some help in accessing the name tag. Then who’s helping her? Are they even reliable?

The ring of my phone interrupts my chain of thoughts. It’s Min-Hee calling from a telephone number.

“When are you coming home?”

“Almost there. Just crossing the street.”

“Doesn’t your shift end at 9.30?”

“Yeah I was just caught up with some stuff. Do we have food at home?”

“Oh yeah we have the leftovers from today’s lunch.”

“Oh that’s great. I’ll be right home.”

“Okay.”

I slide my phone inside my pocket as I walk up the stairs. Moon Dong-Eun. What the hell are you playing at?

I walk into my apartment. I haven’t stopped thinking about what Dong-Eun told me. She comes out of nowhere, tracks me down, finds out where I live and where I work, and decides to tell me about an information I am in no liberty to talk about to anyone. Are there more people who know about this? Or is it just me? What the hell do I do now?

************************************************************************

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final-girl96 · 5 months

Text

Broken World: Chapter Sixteen

Flashback

The whole city was in total chaos. People were running in every direction, and screams and gunfire filled the air. The dead were up walking and stumbling around; how was this real life? They decided Atlanta was the best place to set up a refugee camp. Who's ever idea that was, was a fucking idiot. Things didn't take long to fall apart. Infected people got in and “turned”, they bite others, killing more, turning more people, and before anyone knew it, the whole city was being overrun.

The military was trying to get it under control, but it was no use. There were too many of them. There was a shoot to kill an order. That's exactly what I was doing; shooting the dead. It wasn't natural; the dead were walking around. I made it back into the precinct, killing anything that got in my way. I could hear the jets flying over the city, and shortly after, just as I scrambled under my desk, explosions rocked the whole city. They just bombed the city.

Center For Disease Control

Dr. Edwin Jenner. That was the man standing in front of us closing the doors behind us after a few of us ran out and got our bags. He led us to an elevator where we all piled in; It was a tight squeeze. Daryl was pushed back into the corner with his back to the wall. I was directly in front of him and almost touching him but not. Everyone else filed in though and I got bumped causing me to stumble back more and into Daryl. His left hand landed on my hip to steady and my whole body was on fire. His hand left just as fast as it came. Jenner walked into the elevator, waited for the doors to close, and then pressed one of the bottoms on the panel.

I could feel how tense Daryl was behind me; I was just as tense. I also hated being in such a small space with so many people. “Doctors always go around packing heat like that?” Daryl asked. Jenner had an M4A1 in his hands. He looked down at it then back at our group. “There were plenty left lying around. I familiarized myself. But you look harmless enough.” He looked down at Carl and smiled at him, “Except you, I’ll have to keep my eye on you.” The elevator doors opened and everyone got out.

We were led through halls, up metal stairs, and down another hall into a circular room with computers and a large screen on one wall. “VI, bring up the lights in the big room,” Jenner said, and the lights turned on. “Welcome to Zone 5.” We looked around to see an empty space. Nobody was here. “Where is everybody? The other doctors, the staff?” Rick asked. Jenner turned and looked at him. “I’m it. It’s just me here.” I shook my head, staying back from the group. “What about the person you were speaking with? VI?” Lori asked. “VI, say hello to our guests. Tell them… Welcome.”

“Hello, guests. Welcome,” An artificial intelligence voice said. “I’m all that’s left. I’m sorry,” Jenner told us. He then led us to a room where he took our blood. That was the agreement, he would run tests to make sure none of us were infected and we could stay. I sat in the chair and gave him my arm. He gave me a weak smile, cleaned the skin with an alcohol wipe, and stuck me with the needle. “You don't look happy to be here,” he said. I raised an eyebrow, “What makes you think that?” I asked. He finished filling a vial with blood and pulled the needle out, replacing it with a gauze pad. “You hung back from the others, didn't seem too surprised to know I was the only one here.” I hummed, leaned forward a little and said, “That's because I know no one would be here. I saw what happened to this place.” With that I stood up and went to stand near the door.

Jenner took Andrea’s blood for a sample. As she stood up she started to stumble a little until Jacqui caught her. “Are you okay?” Andrea nodded her head and held onto her. Jacqui looked at Jennerx who was looking a little concerned. “She hasn’t eaten in days. None of us have,” she explained. He looked around the room and nodded, then he led us to the kitchen where some of the women started to cook up dinner for everyone with the help of some of the men. There was plenty of wine and even some whiskey. When everything was done we pushed a few tables together and sat down. Jenner sat at a separate table close by.

Rick was pouring wine into Lori's cup when Dale said, “You know, in Italy, children have a little bit of wine with dinner. And in France.” She held up her glass and took a sip. “Well, when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then,” she said. “What’s it gonna hurt? Come on. Come on,” Rick said, trying to convince her. She agreed and gave him a little bit. He tasted it and scrunched his face up in disgust. Loro poured the rest into her glass. “That’s my boy. That’s my boy. Good boy.”

“Yuck. That tastes nasty,” Carl said. There were some laughs and chuckles from everyone. “Well, just stick to soda pop there, bud,” Shane told him. “Not you, Glenn,” Daryl said. Glenn looked around at everyone and laughed awkwardly. “What?” He asked. “Keep drinking, little man. I want to see how red your face can get,” Daryl said.

I leaned back in my chair at the end of the table beside Glenn, wine glass in my hand, swirling the dark red liquid around in the glass. Someone clinked thier glass and looked up to see Rock standing, glass raised. “It seems to me we haven’t thanked our host properly,” he said. T-Sog held his glass, “He is more than just our host,” he said, taking a drink. “Hear hear!” Dale cheered. Everyone held up a glass to toast Jenner with them. “Here’s to you, Doc, booyah!” Daryl shouted. Rick thanked the doctor and a cheer of booya's went around.

Everyone went back to eating and chatting until Shane interrupted it all. “So when are you gonna tell us what the Hell happened here, Doc? All the—the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?” He asked. “We’re celebrating, Shane. Don’t need to do this now,” Rick told him. I let out a scuff. "Whoa, wait a second. This is why we’re here, right? This was your move—supposed to find all the answers. Instead we—” I took a deep breath, “We found him. Found one man, why? I mean I told you this was all a waste of time,” I said. I wanted to know too. I wanted to know exactly what happened. I knew this place fell the second the city erupted into chaos.

“Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left, went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted,” Jenner said. I just kept looking at Rick, giving him that “I told you so” look. “Every last one?” Shane asked, narrowing his eyes at the doctor. Jenner was silent for a few seconds and then said, “No, many couldn’t face walking out the door. They… opted out. There was a rash of suicides. That was a bad time.”

“You didn’t leave. Why?” Andrea asked. Jenner looked up from his glass to look at her. “I just kept working, hoping to do some good,” he said quietly. Silence fell over the group. “Dude, you are such a buzzkill, man,” Glenn said to Shane.

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bettsfic · 2 months

Note

I’m not sure if you answered something like this before but I’m having a bit of a writing crisis. I have only ever written very short pieces of fiction and I have discovery written all of them. As I embark on the journey of novel writing, I have decided that discovering the plot as I go wouldn’t work because there are just too many moving parts.

Now I am outlining and pre-planning, like architects, but this process fills me with so much doubt. Like I can’t execute these plot points. This story isn’t good enough why tell it? Things like this and worse fill my mind dude the planning stage and I’m very tired of it. It takes away my desire to tell the current story I’m working on so then I’ll just assume it’s the idea and try a different one but the same process happens again. I really want to write a novel but it seems like I just can’t sit in the planning stage without feeling discouraged and completely loosing the motivation to tell the story. Not out of boredom but out of confidence in the story and in myself to execute it in the best way possible. There are so many decisions to make, so many moments of insecurity at this stage, for me.

Note: I have tried discovery writing a novel but I always struggle to connect the plot threads to the main conflict while drafting this way and I tend to deal with a lot of decision fatigue for such a project, slowing down my writing.

Do you know of any steps to take to deal with this?

it sounds like you're focusing on your weaknesses over your strengths. there are a few people in the history of humankind who have been able to sit down and write a book-length work of fiction in a planned and measured way, and who execute it the way they intended. doing that is a task so close to impossible that i don't know why we don't consider it a miracle. i guess it's success bias. we only ever see the work of people who can do that so it's hard to see that almost nobody can do that.

my point is, very few writers write a novel on purpose.

you say, "i have only ever written very short pieces of fiction." that's your answer. if that's your natural writing state, if that's the way you perceive ideas and execute them, that's what you do. one of two things will eventually happen: you'll amass enough stories that you have a book length collection of stories, or you will stumble accidentally into a novel. either way, you'll end up with a manuscript. i know everyone thinks "i want to write a novel" and honestly i love that, i love that people want to contribute to the lineage of fiction, but just because novels make the most money in western publishing doesn't mean that they're the highest literary art form.

right now it seems like you're banging on the doors of a broken elevator, when actually you have to take the stairs. except the stairs won't actually take you where you want to go; they'll take you somewhere else entirely and you just have to accept where you end up. but it's better to take the stairs somewhere than to take the elevator nowhere.

my advice is this: make a list of all the novel ideas you tried to plan but gave up on, and write them in the shortest possible form. give yourself a word count maximum. say, 4k words. it's going to be hard, because you wanted them to be longer and you had a different initial conception of them, but that's the fastest, most methodical way to figure out which ideas can't be executed in short form and therefore must be given a longer form. you'll know it when you finish the short version and you can't stop thinking about it. you'll want to stay in that world with those characters for as long as possible until they finish telling you their story. at that point, doubt becomes irrelevant. doubt withers in the face of curiosity and personal fulfillment. you have to know what happens simply for your own satisfaction, and that will lead you to a very sprawling, messy, overwhelming draft of something that you might be able to carve down into a novel. but by that point, even a novel may seem too small to contain the world you've built.

push yourself to be better at what you're already good at instead of trying to be good at something you struggle with. it's the long road, but at least that road will take you to new places.

#writing advice #process

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pjsk-writin · 1 year

Note

hi amia it’s nearly half past two in teh morninf and i stayed true to my word and have been readjng fics this entire time😋😋

i am so unbelievably sleepy so im gonna finally go to bed, but how can i ever do that without requesting something from my fav writer themself??🫣

may i simply request akito and rui with an s/o that sleeps for really long periods of time and still wakes up sleepy? like, they can say “i’m gonna go take a quick nap” and then wake up 8 hours later and start whining about how sleepy they are in class 😨 literally me fr like, wasn’t the length of ur nap equivalent to a literal nights sleep..??

now that’s that, im now sadly gonna sign off becausue im dosinf off as i type this😞😞

have a good rest of ur day, ily!! /p

- A , ur always sleepy anon <3

( omg that’s what i’m gonna call myself now )

BESTIE OMGS...... and WAA that is such an honor <3 and THAT'S SO ME FR HEL....but have a good day, i love yall/p and i hope you like this!! <3

♡ SLEEPY - Akito Shinonome and Rui Kamishiro x Reader

Akito:

Akito cares about you a lot, which also means that he cares about your health. So, he obviously notices how sleepy you are, and tells you to rest up more

You can imagine his absolute disbelief when you come to him the next day looking like you didn't sleep at all

"Hey, didn't I tell you to sleep?" "I did...for 8 hours." "You what?"

He's bewildered that not only did you manage to properly sleep, but you were still tired?

After just staring at you for a bit, he just sighs, taking off his jacket before placing it over your shoulders

"Go to sleep, I'll cover for ya." By covering for you, he means shielding you from the teacher and asking someone else for the notes

He doesn't do this every time you come to class sleepy, but it happens often enough for him to hand you his jacket on instinct <3

Rui:

Rui also cares about you, don't get him wrong! He just prefers to tease you on how sleepy you get <3

He did challenge you to sleep better though, but he was still a bit confused when you came in looking tired

"Hmm, did someone not take my challenge seriously?" "I did, I did! I slept for 8 hours..."

At first, he wouldn't believe you. Nobody sleeps for that long and is still that tired

...Nobody except you, apparently. You were still dozing off and he had to keep waking you up. Eventually he just shakes his head at you in disbelief

"You never fail to fascinate me." "...Is that a good or bad thing?" He just smiles at you before going back to his schoolwork

He doesn't interfere with your sleepiness because he thinks it's cute, but know that in the back of his mind, he's trying to find ways to help you feel more refreshed after your naps <3

#pjsk x reader #project sekai x reader #akito shinonome x reader #shinonome akito x reader #rui kamishiro x reader #kamishiro rui x reader #a

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jennycalendar · 5 months

Text

upside-down-y

“What do I do?” said Willow. She sounded so little in that moment. Suddenly, Jenny wasn’t imagining that woman in a clean-cut black suit and heels, but the little girl in striped sweaters and white tights. “If there’s no—word—for it? I like being a lesbian, or I thought I did, but I can’t call myself that if I like Oz. And I think I do.” “You don’t need a word for it,” said Jenny simply. “I need a word for it,” said Willow, a stress on the pronoun. “Maybe people in general don’t, but I do.” “Maybe there isn’t one.” “I need—” Willow’s breath hiccupped. “I need the words, a-and the rules. To make sure I don’t—” Abruptly, Jenny knew who Willow needed to be talking to.

decided that, in lieu of tonight's blogging, now might be a nice time to post a tumblr-only exclusive that i've not yet figured out how to work into the canon of what you make! i would like to write a larger fic about willow's adventures at some point, & also figure out when this development will happen within the timeline, and once i do, i think i'll understand better how to work this thing in. (but it is definitely what happens.)

this requires no knowledge of my sprawling fic 'verse except for: it's an everybody lives/nobody dies au, jenny and giles are together with their eight-year-old son, this is a few years post-series.

read for -- giles and willow having frank and very loving discussions about sexuality, jenny calling willow "baby" because she's now a mom who does that kinda thing, briefest sleepiest calendiles child cameo!!!

~~~~~

Willow called at some godawful hour, late enough for it to be edging towards early-morning and for Jenny to be too tired to check the time. She happened to have been pulling an accidental all-nighter that had spun out from a few lines of code that just would not cooperate, so she managed to catch the phone before the second ring, hoping that it hadn’t woken up anyone upstairs. The shrill tone felt impossibly loud to her tired ears. “’lo?” she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve.

Anxiously, Willow said, “Jenny!” and then didn’t say anything else, her breathing nervous and rapid on the other end of the line.

“Willow.” Jenny was too sleepy to think. “You. Need something?”

“I don’t know! I just! Something happened and I can’t tell Buffy about it, and I can’t tell my mom, because she’ll think—well—she keeps saying she approves of the political implications of my lesbianism, so I feel like this is going to go over like a lead balloon, but I don’t know—I mean, I don’t think I’m straight again! It hasn’t—”

Jenny felt very much like this was a conversation that required her to be more awake than she was. Shuffling over to the kitchen table, she took a long sip of coffee. “The political implications?” she repeated skeptically.

“It’s just—we—” Willow took a wobbly breath in, then, in an exhaled confession: “I kissed Oz!”

For one bizarre, sleep-deprived moment, Jenny was convinced that she’d somehow been thrown back in time to 1997. “Oz?” she repeated. “Like, Oz, Oz?”

“Like Oz Oz!” Willow confirmed tearfully.

“Like your high school boyfriend Oz?”

“He was in Istanbul for some—thing—I don’t remember—and I wish I could say that we got drunk or high or something, but I was really only a little buzzed, and he was completely sober, and we were talking about everything we’ve been up to—he was the road manager for this really cool Eastern European band, and, and he’s been doing some networking with other werewolves, and oh, that’s part of why we met! We were talking about all of the complexities of connecting werewolves to resources that will help, and the stigma, and he’s really—well—he never really did much in high school, which I used to have such a complex about because I felt like he could do more than he was doing, but I guess I’ve changed because I just felt, I was so happy to see him doing things that mattered to him! And then that they also have a positive impact! And he’s still got that, that smile where when he looks at you, you sorta feel like you’re the only girl in the entire world! He still looks at me like I’m just the same, and I thought at first, you know, maybe that was why I felt all fuzzy and warm around him, because I’m a horrible person who gets off on validation, but then I started looking at him too and seeing that boy and—and—remembering—”

Jenny had absolutely no idea why any of this was a problem, but her ability to assertively interrupt the Willow-babble was significantly impaired when she was inches away from nodding off in between sentences. “Isn’t that good?” she tried, but Willow had not at all stopped talking.

“—and then we kissed and we actually did a little more than kissed, like, there was some over-the-clothes action and some grinding, except then when we stopped all of that, he walked me to my hotel! Like a gentleman! And he kissed me on the cheek and said he was really happy to share this moment with me, and who even does that??? What do I do now???? What if I’ve just—but I loved Tara so much! I still love Tara! I mean, I have NC-17 dreams about Tara, those wouldn’t happen if I’m straight! And I haven’t been with a guy since Oz, and I haven’t wanted to be with a guy since Oz, but now I want to—to call up Oz and be with him! Which, hello, so clingy, it was just one really nice month and then a whole bunch of kissing—”

“—wait, you’ve been spending a month with Oz in Istanbul and it’s only now become romantic?”

“WE WERE AT A CONFERENCE,” said Willow, as though this explained anything at all.

Jenny sat down at the kitchen table. “Willow—” God, she wanted to be asleep. “People can be bisexual,” she managed.

“But I’m not!”

“So you’re not into men?”

“But I am!”

She was going about this all wrong. “Baby. Are you into men or are you into Oz?”

A long silence. Then, timidly, “There’s not a difference, though, is there? You can’t be a real lesbian if—”

“Please God don’t turn into one of those witches,” said Jenny, who did not have the energy to be tactful. “Willow, there’s no way to be a real lesbian. There’s no manual. We define ourselves with the words that feel best for us, that’s what the queer community is about. What’s the word that feels best for you, right now?”

Another long silence. “I don’t know if the word is lesbian,” said Willow uncomfortably. “I don’t—I didn’t—really—question it? When it happened. It was Tara, first, and then Kennedy, and then a whole bunch of other girls, y’know, on account of the traveling, and then nobody at all for a little while, so I just—I wanted to kiss girls and I stopped looking at guys, and the only guy I ever noticed before Oz was Xander, and Xander, I didn’t know he was everything. They don’t tell you in high school what to do with someone who’s everything, they just say you should marry him if he’s a guy, but I don’t—I’ve never really wanted to marry Xander. We’re not like that. So I figured, Oz, he was just a fluke! Especially because of how everything with Tara happened, and I never thought any guy was pretty like I think girls are pretty, but—I don’t know. Oz is different. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Jenny leaned back against the wall, listening.

“I don’t know if the word is lesbian,” Willow repeated. “But—it doesn’t feel right to say that the word is bisexual, either. I’ve dated more girls than guys, now. I’ve built my life around imagining a girl there.”

“But Oz is different,” Jenny prompted.She was met with a tiny sigh in response. “Is that bad?”

“You don’t need a word for it,” said Jenny simply.

“I need a word for it,” said Willow, a stress on the pronoun. “Maybe people in general don’t, but I do.”

“Maybe there isn’t one.”

“I need—” Willow’s breath hiccupped. “I need the words, a-and the rules. To make sure I don’t—”

Abruptly, Jenny knew who Willow needed to be talking to. “Baby, can you just stay on the line?” she asked gently. “Just for a second, I gotta—” and she set down the phone, stepping quietly out of the kitchen and into the unlit hallway, halfway up the stairs to the little landing between the first and second floor, where the bedroom door was still ajar.

Her baby was asleep in the middle of the bed, curled against Rupert like a little puppy; his dozing father’s arm was round his shoulders. Jenny leaned over the bed, carefully untangling a drowsy Art from Rupert. Art, always cuddly in slumber, whined; she ran her fingers through his hair, and he settled. “Rupert,” she murmured, shaking her guy awake. “Rupert.”

“Mmh?” Rupert stirred.

“Rupert, it’s Willow.”

Rupert’s eyes flew open. She saw the panic and gave his shoulders a reassuring squeeze, pressing her forehead briefly to his. “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s okay. She’s okay. Nothing bad. She just needs to talk to you.”

~~~~~

Willow waited on the line, listening to the crackly static, trying not to breathe too loudly for fear it would tumble into crying before Jenny came back. She heard rustling on the other end and held her breath, waiting, until Giles, his voice all rough and sleepy like it got during those old early morning research sessions, said, “Hello, Willow.”

“Giles,” Willow all but sobbed, feeling a rush of relief. “Did—did Jenny—tell you?”

“Some of it,” said Giles. “Just the loose pencil sketch, really. But I’d like to hear it from you.”

Maybe the Oz stuff wasn’t really why Willow had called Giles. “How do you know when to stop playing by the roles you made up when you were twenty-two and trying not to be the kind of asshole who destroys the universe?” she said, all in one breath. “I, I didn’t decide I was a lesbian because of the magics, but I decided it while I was in the magics, and I wanted to be good at being a lesbian, but now I’m worried that I’m not, if, if I kissed Oz and I liked it. I don’t know what the word is for that.”

“Bisexual?” said Giles.

“That’s what Jenny said but it isn’t that!” said Willow tearfully. “And lesbian doesn’t feel like it’s right either, even though it did for years before this!I don’t know what it is! I like girls and I like Oz, but I don’t like—I don’t want—I don’t think I want, but I don’t know—I wasn’t trying to look, after Tara, because I thought it was simple as—”

“Does there need to be a word for it?”

“That’s what Jenny said!”

A soft, tender laugh, the likes of which Willow hadn’t heard since she was in high school. She loved that laugh so much. It always meant that Giles knew the answer, and really, the problem wasn’t anything to be that afraid of, and five minutes from now, the world would feel okay again. “Willow,” said Giles. “Nothing in a person’s heart is ever finite. We are always—always—growing and changing past the words we used to describe ourselves five, ten, fifteen years ago.”

“But what if I—” Willow swallowed. “What if I change wrong?”

Giles didn’t answer for a couple of the worst seconds of Willow’s life. Finally, gently, he said, “Then you right yourself, if you can. Lean on others, if you can’t. We’re all muddling through. There’s no certainty that I can give you, as much as I wish that I could, but I can—” Now it was his turn to pause. A heavy one. “I can tell you that I love you,” he said, finally.

She had never heard him say that to her before. Not that directly, anyway. “I love you too, Giles,” Willow whispered. The whole thing felt faintly unreal: that she could say those words, and not snatch them back. Not watch his face contort uncomfortably as he tried to wriggle out of genuine emotional expression. “I just don’t wanna do what I did to everyone. And I don’t—if I was wrong, if I’m not—”

“I don’t think that you were wrong,” Giles countered. “You used the words that made sense to you at the time. Those words might not make sense with who you are now. Who you’re growing into. This is good, Willow. You questioning this is good, and healthy. I think…you need to become comfortable with the notion of not having that neat answer, or that label, if the notion of a label has become…restrictive.”

“I don’t want to not be a lesbian,” said Willow unsteadily. “It made everything make sense, when I found out about that word—”

“Does it help you now?”

Willow exhaled. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know. I don’t want to not kiss Oz. It feels like I got turned all upside-down-y again.”

Giles was quiet again. Then he said, “When I was in my twenties, my group, it was all men, save one. Diedre. It hadn’t been intended, her being a part of the group. We’d all wanted a place to…to be ourselves, free of societal expectations.”

Willow’s heart flipped over. This was not something Giles had ever talked about. She’d known, of course—pieced it together through Ethan, and what she’d learned, later, about the kind of magic Giles got up to, but to hear it from him was completely different. She wanted to say something, affirm that she was there on the other end of the line, but she was halfway afraid that he would change his mind if he remembered that she was listening. She held her breath.

“I…didn’t mind the notion of including women within our group, even then.” Giles laughed softly. “It wasn’t something I talked about with the rest, but I wasn’t—I’ve never really—it’s always been about the person, for me, you see. Ethan and the rest, though, they…it wasn’t usual for them to, ah, prefer the company of a woman. They abhorred the very notion. But that was simply how special Diedre was. To, to all of us.”

Something tight and knotted in Willow’s chest was beginning to loosen. She sat down on the hotel bed, curling her fingers around the phone, listening like her life depended on it.

“You, you don’t need to have the right words for it, Willow,” said Giles gently. “Lord knows we didn’t know any of them. And I’d never—endorse—the other sort of things I got up to back then, but I, I think I’ve spent a lot of time refusing to engage with the parts of my life that have been…joyful. All because I was ashamed of the person that I was then.”

Willow wasn’t ashamed of high school Willow, exactly. It was just that sometimes it was hard to reconcile Willow-then with Willow-now, and that wasn’t even getting into the Willow-in-between. “So, for them, it was…guys plus the one exception,” she said uncertainly.

“Do you need to know what it was?” Giles’s tone was mildly pointed. Instructive.

“If I don’t—”

“What if you don’t?”

“I mean, that’s why I’ve been traveling,” said Willow, halfway timid. “To learn stuff.”

“And what have you learned?”

Willow closed her eyes, half-afraid of the answer. Oz had smiled at her in the light of the full moon, unencumbered, gentle. He’d listened to stories about Tara and Kennedy and everyone with thoughtful patience. He hadn’t made a single move. The kissing had happened by accident, and because she’d initiated it, and the nice thing about Oz was that he didn’t question that. He didn’t have a whole bunch of things to say about whoa, hold on, didn’t you go gay and change your mind about me? He just smiled at her, like he saw her, saw right down into her bones, and like what he saw was good.

And she’d missed him so much. The pinwheeling way he talked about things had baffled her when she was in high school, but now, after years of traveling, it was nice to be with someone who had just as many strange questions and quiet observations as she’d been collecting herself. She liked hearing him tell his stories. She liked him. She liked the person he’d become, and the person that she was with him. The people that they could maybe be together.

“I think I’ve learned that I wanna kiss Oz again,” she said, barely a whisper.

She could hear the smile in Giles’s voice. “That’s lovely, Willow,” he said. “I’m very happy for the both of you.”

~~~~~

Giles went back to bed. Jenny and Art had taken up just about all of it, making it nigh impossible for him to lie down comfortably. An attempt to nudge Art a bit further towards the middle was met by an unhappy, half-awake whine that positively tore at his heart, so he resigned himself to sitting uncomfortably on the edge of the bed for three minutes before Jenny, half awake, said, “Honey. Are you being stupid again?” and pulled Art against her like a teddy bear, clearing space for him in the middle.

“Don’t solve all of my problems for me,” said Giles, lying down and reaching to squeeze her shoulder. Their arms encircled Art, who turned his head towards his mother, soft dark curls against her sweater.

#fic #never mind the years of wasted time #giles and willow #jenny and willow #AND:#willoz #BUT only in the background!!!!#this is a fic that truly belongs on ao3. but i have to work some stuff out first

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beehindblueeyes · 2 years

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Details pt 2

Had to create another post because it was going to be LONG if I didn’t, and I do want you guys to get all this. Because I know at least a few of you besides myself will like this :) or find it interesting/ good for fic writing.

The Ghosts know Finney’s name before their own. They appear to know him better then themselves (some of them, I’ll get to it later)

Something connecting all of the boys is a tendency to repeat the same thing over and over. “You already said that” “Y e a h? Well…” it’s sad. It’s telling. That they’re drifting further and further from what they used to be, who they used to be. Their memories are fading fast, their names, even their clothes as they are greyed and scrubbed of most detail. Whenever they call finney they are pulling together the small parts of themselves that they have left and it never lasts for long…

Them knowing finney more then themselves is cemented when Billy doesn’t even know who Bruce is. Despite Bruce being one of them. Being there. Constantly. Like him or any of the others. I think they just started refering to each other by the details they can recall. (“I don’t remember it. It’s not who I am now” further playing into them becoming something else all together. A memory. A feeling. A whisper.)

Paper Boy and Vance both have the strength to effect the living world. Both displayed this by using the bottles as a tool or a show of emotion. (Vance may have less control over this but more power. He’s one anger outburst away from becoming a full blown poltergeist).

While I’m not excusing Mr. Blake’s behavior in the slightest, it appears all his recent behavior started after the death of his wife. He likely picked up drinking and his behavior only deteriorated from there. It’s clear that Gwen is a spitting image of her mother (appearance, behavior, belief) he’s letting his guilt, grief , drinking and fear guide all of his actions. It’s clear his love for his kids and not wanting to see Gwen die in such a way as well- however the way he goes about it is … less than stellar.

Someone asked before but it’s Coke and Almonds on the coffee table. Like- so many almonds. It also kills me that the detectives are so frazzled they see it and just leave.

The fact the grabber is able to tell the difference between Finney sleeping and fake sleeping. Has he watched him multiple times? One of his many moods is very pouty and child like it’s-

So Griffin is weird to me. He’s strong enough to physically APPEAR to Finney but not enough to make the phone ring? He’s visible for a solid minute. Enough for the blood to make a sound and to point at the phone itself. He’s also the only one Able to do this! (All the boys can appear, except the only time we see them all do so is a brief flash infront of Gwen). So essentially. Griffin, Billy and Vance are the strongest when it comes to interaction in the physical world. Despite appearing thought, Griffin appears to be pretty weak.

“Nobody did… you spend so many years invisible then every kid in the state knows your name.” He needs a hug.

Technically Finney was rude to Vance first. *Phone rings* “No. fuck you”.

The use of the song Fox on the run for Vance is actually quite brilliant and creepy (post to come later)

Ellison grab and go (reference to Sinster? Another Ethan Hawke movie and his character name)

Finney’s survival at multiple points in the movie would not be possible without that pen

Getting long, look out for part 3!

#details pt 2 #the black phone #black phone #the black phone 2022 #the grabber #finney blake #griffin stagg #billy showalter #vance hopper #bruce yamada #robin arellano #modern horror #writing ref #writing reference #reference #1st rewatch

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lovesosweeet · 5 months

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better left unsaid // cth

chapter twenty eight

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

october 1, 2018 san diego, california orion

I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve seen Calum’s reaction coming. I know him so well that I should have been able to predict how he would react to my confession, but, I guess it was a situation that nobody really knows how they’ll react to until they’re in the moment. The look on his face when I told him… I never want to see that level of anger and disappointment and heartbreak on anyone’s face, ever again.

It felt like a punch to my gut, over and over. It felt like my heart was ripped from my chest when Calum stormed off.

Afterwards, I spend a few minutes sobbing, hyperventilating, and freaking out in my car when he leaves me alone. I know he wants to spend some time on his own, but I feel like I have to at least try to run after him, after I gave him some space to process what I’ve just told him. I collect myself a tiny bit before I run into the venue, finding everyone, except for Calum, in the green room.

They all notice me immediately, and I’m sure the tears running down my face, red cheeks, and ragged breathing made it clear that I’m upset. Luke starts to step toward me, his face full of concern, but Ashton beats him to it, stepping directly in front of Luke to block him.

“O, are you alright?”

I grab his arm and pull him into the corner, away from everyone else as much as possible without going to a different room.

When I try to say something, all that comes out is more crying. I can’t say it. I can’t say that Calum is absolutely livid that I hadn’t told him until now. I can’t say that it felt like he handed me his barely beating heart before he ran away.

Despite the many awful conversations with Ashton telling me I shouldn’t keep my diagnosis a secret, he’s nothing but sympathetic in the wake of my relationship getting absolutely fucked. He wraps his arms around me tightly and rests his head on top of mine, my body shaking as I cry even harder into his shirt.

“You told him, I take it?” He asks.

I sniffle, trying again to be able to say something, but the words get caught in my throat.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. It’s all gonna be okay, alright? You guys will be fine. Just give him a chance to come to terms with everything. It’s a lot to take in, and you know he’s avoidant.” He rubs his hands up and down my back, trying to calm me down, but it just makes it all worse. “He loves you. Nobody can deny it. Love is the most powerful thing in the universe. You guys will be fine.”

I ruined everything. Ashton’s positivity feels toxic rather than comforting.

It takes a few minutes, but I manage to stop sobbing enough to speak.

“I’m gonna go. Give him space. Take care of him, please? And tell everyone I love them and I’m sorry.”

“Wait, Orion, you shouldn’t—”

I don’t bother listening to everything else he has to say. I just run back out to the car. I can hear everyone calling after me, so I act quickly, turning the key in the ignition and reversing, then driving back out of the parking lot the way I came.

While I drive, I blast sad music that I can cry to. I’m probably not supposed to drive while crying as hard as I am, but I don’t really have a choice, already on an interstate. I don’t know what I’m thinking, but I stop at a convenience store after I drive for about 15 minutes. I turn off sharing my location with everyone and turn on Do Not Disturb. If Cal needs to be alone, I need to be alone too.

I need to grapple with the immense pain I’ve caused.

Just so people can know I’m alive after leaving the venue, I text Emelia.

To: emi✨ today is… the worst day ever.

As soon as it says it’s delivered, I put my phone in my pocket.

At 7-Eleven, I grab a jumbo bottle of Barefoot Cabernet Sauvignon and a bag of Voodoo potato chips, then get back in the car to head to the beach. The access I go to is in a touristy part of San Diego, but it’s nostalgic for me and reminds me of all the times I came here as a kid with friends. An ounce of comfort in this shitty fucking day.

After parking, I grab my 7-Eleven purchases and the blanket my moms make me keep in my trunk for ‘emergencies’ — I’ve never known what kind of emergency would call for a blanket in Southern California, but I guess, if today counts as one, I’ve determined the kind of emergency. I kick off my socks and shoes, carrying them in the plastic bag they gave me when I bought my wine and chips. Somehow, even in my emotional distress, I made sure the wine was a screw top, so I open it up while I walk down the beach, taking a long glug from the big bottle.

At my happy place on a not too busy day, I feel somewhat at peace with the world, even though I feel like my life is in shambles. I’ve spent so much time alone lately that it’s nice to be alone while surrounded by people. I don’t care if anyone is watching me while I just scarf down an entire bag of chips and nearly chug the entire bottle of wine.

I don’t want to feel anything right now, and being drunk is the best option I have on hand currently.

People watching and wave watching is a dizzying distraction while I sit on my sandy blanket. I don’t get in the water. Not even my feet. I just sit and drink, and, all things considered, it’s kind of nice, in a fucked up way.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been here when my head starts to feel heavy and my eyelids start to droop. Wine, especially combined with being sick with leukemia, has always made me sleepy. I check the time and find that it’s only 2:00, so there’s plenty of time for me to take a nap. I bury my keys in the sand under my blanket so nobody can steal them and shove my wallet into my pocket.

I pull the hood on my sweatshirt up and use the string to close it over my face, finding darkness in the middle of the day.

—

When I wake up, it’s not by choice. There’s someone shaking my shoulder and I can hear several voices close by, at least one of them speaking to me.

“Excuse me, you need to wake up, or we’re calling an ambulance for you,” a deep voice says.

I groan, swatting at my face to open the hood again. “No, I’m up.”

Blinking as I adjust to the sunlight, it can’t be too late, since the sun is still up. There’s a police officer leaning over me who looks slightly concerned, but mostly annoyed.

“Time to go home, kiddo, before we charge you with public intoxication. You can’t just get drunk and pass out on a beach on a Monday.”

Shit.

I sit up as quickly as I can, feeling dizzy from the wine that’s still running through me.

“Do you have someone you can call, or do we need to call you an Uber?”

“I’ll call someone,” I hear myself saying. I grab my phone from my pocket and hold it up closer to my face. “Hey Siri, call Irwie.”

“OK, calling Irwie now,” Siri says, and I press the phone to my ear.

It doesn’t even complete a full ring before Ashton answers. “Orion? Orion, are you okay? Everyone is—”

“If I drop you a pin, can you come get me?”

“What do—yeah, sure, yeah, I can come get you. Where are you?”

“I’m at the beach,” I slur sleepily, looking up at the police officer with one eye shut. The sun feels too bright.

“Are you drunk!?” He asks.

“Maybe…”

“Jesus Christ, Orion. Yeah, sure, drop a pin. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Wait! Ashton,” I nearly scream, trying to catch him before he hangs up.

“What?”

“Please… please don’t bring Cal.”

He sighs. “I’ll see you soon.” Then he hangs up.

“Is someone coming?” The police officer asks. I realize he’s one of two, the other standing a few feet behind him.

“Yeah, my friend said he’ll be here soon.”

The officers exchange glances. “We’ll be back in an hour. If you’re still here, you’ll be riding in the back of our car instead. Got it?”

My eyes widen. “Yes, sir. I’ll be gone, I promise.”

I gather my things up and put them into my 7-Eleven bag before standing up. While I walk toward my car, I drop a pin for Ashton. I have about a million notifications of phone calls and text messages. I don’t want to read anything from Calum or the band, or even my family. I just check the thread with Emelia.

From: emi✨ what happened ?????? you told him??? i assume? hello? pick up the phone orion bro literally everyone is freaking the fuck out your mom just called orion i get that you’re trying to be alone but we’re all so worried can you just tell someone if you’re alive and okay? orion, it’s been five hours i’m on my way down to SD right now. your moms are so scared and cal is a wreck

Her last text was just over an hour ago, so if she really is driving down, she’s still in the car. I call her instantly. Just like with Ashton, it doesn’t even finish a full ring before she answers.

“BITCH,” she starts, and I have to hold my phone away from my ear for a second because of how loud she is. “DON’T YOU EVER DO THIS SHIT AGAIN!”

I wince, unsure if she’s going to continue or if it’s safe to speak.

“Where the fuck are you!?” Yep, she continues.

I sigh, sitting down on the hood of my car. “I’m at the beach.”

“Why haven’t you been answering literally anyone!? Orion, do you understand how many people are upset right now? Because it’s literally so many people.”

I let the alcohol talk next, and I regret the words that come out of my mouth the moment I say them.

“Just a preview of what’s inevitable. I’m fucking dying, in case you forgot. Get used to me not answering my fucking phone.”

Emelia gasps, and the tears start forming in my eyes again. I shouldn’t have said it. I know I shouldn’t have. It’s a low blow, especially for someone who so clearly just cares about me and wants me to be okay. I feel worse than I already do.

“Em, I’m—I’m sorry,” I choke out, falling back into a state of sobbing. “I shouldn’t have said that. Fuck, I feel so bad. I’m sorry. I just—I’m at the beach. I’m drunk. I fell asleep. I just woke up. Ash is on his way to me. You can go home if you want.”

She takes a big breath before she speaks again. “I’m headed to your moms’ house. I’ll see you there. Everyone is there now.” Then she hangs up on me, and I can’t even pretend like I blame her for it.

“Fuck,” I say to no one but myself.

Roughly thirty minutes after my call with Emelia, a black van pulls up next to my car. Ashton is in the passenger seat, and Matt is in the driver’s. They say something to each other that I can’t hear before Ashton throws his door open and walks up to me.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He hugs me before I can even say anything.

I laugh. It’s a bitter, short laugh. “No.”

He hugs me tighter, and I break down again.

Ashton drives my car to my moms’ house while Matt drives the van back to the venue. The drive ends up taking over an hour because there’s an accident on the way, and I’m grateful that he just plays a podcast for the whole time so we don’t have to talk.

Calum always jokes that I can’t stand silence so I always make up dumb stories to tell people just to make sure that there isn’t any dead air. I never make them up, he just tends to find them so random. I do hate silence, and I’d rather talk to people than not, so making conversation has always been… I wouldn’t say a strong suit, because it’s not always worthwhile conversation, but I guess it’s just easy. It’s easy for me to find random stories to tell from the depths of my brain, especially if it’s someone I’m comfortable with.

Right now, I don’t want to talk, especially not knowing that the whole band and their partners and my family and Emelia will be at the house when we get there.

We pull in right as Emelia is getting out of her car.

“Hey guys,” she says without enthusiasm as Ashton and I get out of my Civic.

I start crying again, and it feels stupid, but thankfully, she doesn’t care. Emelia welcomes me with open arms and hugs me to her chest.

“I’m sorry and I love you,” I whisper to her.

“I love you, and it’s okay.”

I nod against her.

“C’mon, let’s go inside,” she says. She steps back from me, her hands sitting on my arms as she looks at me. “Everyone is waiting.”

I don’t want to, but I know I don’t have a choice. Em walks in front of me and Ash walks next to me, with his hand on my back between my shoulder blades. As we’re walking up to the door, Calum bursts through it and runs to us. Surely he was watching Ashton's location get closer and closer to the house.

Emelia steps out of the way and gives Cal a clear path to throw his arms around me and squeeze me against his chest. I cry into his shirt while he holds me, and I’m transported back in time to our goodbye at the airport two months ago. The deja vu makes me cry harder.

“I’m sorry I ran," he apologizes, although I feel like it's unwarranted. I did a fucked up thing. "I love you, and I trust you and your judgment and I know you did things in a way that made sense to you."

I shake my head as well as I can within his embrace which almost swallows me. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I fucked up. I know I did. I’m sorry. I feel like shit.”

“Let’s talk about it later.”

I nod. Dropping it for the moment feels best, considering practically everyone we know is here and neither one of us wants an audience for our conversation.

“I know things are shitty, but we’ve got a ton of pizza inside if you’re hungry? Everyone else is in the backyard.”

I peel back from his embrace enough to be able to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry I fucked everything up.”

Calum’s eyes are brimmed with tears and I feel awful for causing as much pain as I have. He doesn’t cry a lot, and when he does, it’s always something that makes my heart ache. I feel like the worst person alive to do this to him. He doesn’t deserve this.

“We can talk about it later, okay? Let’s just be together for a little bit. Everyone has been so worried.” He kisses my forehead and takes my hand, tugging me inside with him, Ashton and Emelia following behind.

Inside the house, there are pizza boxes scattered around the kitchen and a few cases of La Croix on the island. Eri is in the living room with Disney Channel playing and Duke is asleep on his lap. My moms walk inside from the backyard as we walk in and they both run up to us, looking an appropriate mix of angry and relieved.

“Never do that again!” Mama says, embracing me quickly. Mom hugs me, too, and then she grabs my other hand that Calum isn’t holding.

“Eat. We’re glad you’re safe. You have an army of concerned friends in the backyard. They will be relieved to see you.”

I just nod, unable to process the right words to say right now. I’ve sobered up over the past hour but the wine brain fog is still lingering, especially given my exhaustion. Emelia hands me a plate with a slice of cheese pizza on it, then she nods her head toward the backyard.

“Come on, let’s go see everyone. I don’t think Luke has stopped crying since you ran off,” Calum says, giving my hand a squeeze.

I don’t get a chance to argue before he leads me outside, everyone’s heads snapping up as the door creaks open. Calum was right. Luke is still crying. How could I do this to all of them? What’s wrong with me? These people don’t deserve this kind of pain. Nobody deserves this.

Luke barrels toward me first, nearly knocking me over with a hug. I feel his body quivering as he shakily breathes and cries into my hair. Calum lets go of my hand and takes my pizza from me so I can hug Luke back. It takes so much self control not to cry again. I just focus on trying to calm Luke down, rubbing small circles into his back.

“I’m so, so sorry, O,” Luke whispers through his quiet sobs.

He’s sorry? Why is he sorry? I’m the one who messed up. “It’s okay, Lu. You didn’t do anything.”

He cried and I feel him shake his head. “I should’ve been there for you.”

“Luke,” I breathe out. “I didn’t want anyone to be there for me. That’s not on you.”

“Luke, give her some space. You’re not the only one who wants to hug her, man!” I hear Michael’s voice. He’s trying to lighten the mood a bit and I appreciate it. He peels Luke away from me and then he embraces me himself. “Glad you’re safe, O.”

“Sorry to scare everyone.”

“We love you so much,” Crystal says, hugging me straight after Michael lets go.

Sierra is next, and then KayKay. After everyone else has had a turn, Luke resumes his hugging and clings to me for another few minutes while everyone else starts talking and eating again. He keeps apologizing to me and it hurts. He sounds so sad. When he finally pulls away, I look up at his red face that’s covered in tears.

I pull my sweatshirt sleeve over my hand and reach up to wipe them away. “Don’t cry. It’ll be okay.”

Luke nods, and then Sierra comes up to him and takes him off to calm him down, mouthing a ‘sorry’ to me.

Finally in a place where I can breathe again, I look up and catch Calum staring at me. His eyes have welled up tears and are a muted version of their normal rich brown. I try to smile at him, but I end up having tears start to form in my own eyes for the millionth time today. When one falls from my eyes, he’s quick to reach over and wipe it away.

“I love you,” he says, his voice almost too quiet to hear, full of love and pain and sadness and, possibly most difficult to admit, fear.

“I love you.”

I look down at the pizza he’s holding for me, my stomach starting to make noises, and then I notice the tape wrapped around his knuckles. Ashton is somewhat known for always having his hands taped up with blisters from playing the drums, but not Calum, and the location of the tape wouldn’t be from playing any instrument. It also wasn’t there this morning.

“What happened to your hand?” I ask, taking the pizza from his grasp with one hand and using the other to reach for his bandaged one, pulling it closer to try to inspect.

He chuckles, and I'm grateful to hear a sound close to laughter come from him. “I got in a fight with a wall.”

I look up at him, eyebrows raised, trying to fight a smile. Calum is practically magic. Not even seconds ago I was about to cry, and here he is, flipping my mood like it’s as simple as turning on a light switch. “Elaborate?”

Cal sighs, breaking our eye contact. “I wanted to punch somebody, but I know how you feel about violence, so I punched a wall. Three times.”

My raised eyebrows move to being knit together. Cal isn’t known for being an angry person, much less a violent one. Gentle is the first word I'd use to describe his soul, and kind is the second. Angry isn't even on my list. “Who did you want to punch?”

“Ashton.” He doesn’t even hesitate before he says it. I watch his jaw clench as he looks behind me, presumably to wherever Ashton is standing. He’s angry. He’s furious.

I don’t understand why he would be mad at Ashton but able to look past what I’ve done enough to be consoling me right now. Ashton didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who messed everything up and Ashton got stuck in the crosshairs. He was just trying to be a good friend to me and he made his opinions very known—he didn’t agree with what I was doing but respected that it was my choice to make, not his. Does Calum not see that?

“Cal, don’t be upset with—“

His eyes snap back down to me, anger still firing in his irises. “Not now. I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

His fury silences me and I decide it’s probably best to listen to him. I don’t want to fight with him in front of all these people, but I know I need to talk to him about this soon. Ashton and Calum call each other soulmates. I don’t want to be the reason there’s a rift between them. I want to talk about it now and clear the air, but if Calum says he doesn’t want to talk about something, it’s by far the better choice to leave it alone.

“Okay,” I say, my voice small.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Calum promises. “Right now I just want to be with you, okay?”

I nod, even though everything I have wanted to say all day is gnawing at my stomach, clawing at my throat, and filling the entirety of my mouth. I need to talk about all of this; after sitting on it for over two months, I need to get everything off my chest. But, knowing Calum, I know that if he doesn’t want to talk about something, it’s useless to try to talk about it, so even though I’m dying to talk about the issue at hand, I have to swallow the words and try not to choke on them.

“Can we go sit down? I’m so tired.”

Calum nods, wrapping an arm around me and guiding me over to the outdoor living room situation my moms have set up, sitting down on the couch that’s covered in Duke’s hair from him being out here all day. KayKay and Emelia are sitting on chairs across from us, deep in their own conversation. I think Em is telling her about a project she did in her photography class and KayKay is looking through the final images on her phone. I'm glad they can talk about something normal in the midst of all this.

I slowly take bites of my cheese pizza, but each mouthful sticks on its way down my throat and make it far less appetizing.

“Need anything?” Calum asks, taking note of my silence and slow eating.

“No, just don’t have much of an appetite these days.”

It’s nice to be back with everyone, and I don’t want to act like it isn’t, but this all feels wrong. Ashton and Calum aren’t speaking. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells in my own head, trying not to trigger any conversations that I can’t have yet and narrowly avoiding crying yet again. Calum is being attentive, smoothing my hair for me while I talk and always having his hand on me somewhere, whether resting on my knee, wrapped around my waist, or intertwined with mine. All I can picture is the look on his face when I told him I have leukemia and the way it felt to practically watch his heart stop beating.

One day, he’s actually going to have to watch as my heart stops beating, and the thought alone makes me hate myself even more than I already do.