#But after rereading the books I can’t say that they were good parents after they put Sadie and Carter is so much danger

[cryoverlife]

Julius and Ruby Kane aren’t good parents. Not because they aren’t capable of being good parents but simply because they care more about the world than their children, in this essay I will—

[ohtobeleah]

An Angel’s Discretion //

Summary: When Bradley gets a call to say you’ve been involved in a major car accident, his whole world is turned upside down.

Warnings: Bradley Bradshaw x wifeF!reader. Car Accident. Pregnancy, Bradley in a state of existential crisis. Pre-mature birth. Hurt/comfort. Goose cameo.

Word Count: 3.5k

It felt like time stood still yet had sped up all at the same time. Your entire world had been flipped on its head in the blink of an eye—you felt like your entire life was flashing before your eyes. A Rolodex of memories played out before you as you spun out and rolled down into the embankment. You didn’t know exactly how it happened or why it happened - but regardless of that, it still very much happened and you were still very much in trouble. 

It had been god awful weather recently, so much so the Dagger’s had been grounded for the better half of a week. Bradley had been home for a change, pottering around the house baby proofing sharp edges and making sure the crib was set up just like the instruction book had said. 

It seemed that people truly believed that the car you were trapped in for nearly half an hour had flipped and rolled hours ago. An empty mangled car on the side of the road—nobody stopped to see if there were any occupants. Nobody stopped to snoop. Nobody heard your cries— the cries of a woman in unimaginable pain. Hoping, praying, as you remained helplessly tangled in your seat belt. You had blood gushing from wounds you didn’t know what exactly had been caused by and had bones that shattered from impact. 

You stayed there, trapped in a mess of broken glass and twisted aluminum, whimpering as you rubbed your swollen belly. Seven months. Seven beautiful months carrying your child. Bradley’s daughter. You’d spent seven months promising to keep her safe - keep her sound. You didn’t know the gender but the feeling was there and it was strong, you were having a little baby girl. 

Bradley wanted to keep the gender a surprise, but you knew deep down with every fibre of your being that you were having a girl, that he’d be a girl dad till his dying day. But as you slowly brought your hand up to cup over your bellybutton? You knew something was utterly wrong.

“We’re okay, aren’t we spud.” You mumbled as your vision blurred and your head became far too heavy for you to keep it lifted. “Mama’s gonna take ca-care of you.” You struggled out before succumbing to the feeling of emptiness as you drifted into unconsciousness—the sound of your shattered phone playing your doting husband's ringtone. Replay by iyaz. One final smile appeared on your bloodied broken face as you heard the all too familiar sound. 

Before.....nothing. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Baby seats shouldn’t be this complicated to fit!” Bradley groaned as he tried to figure out how to secure the baby seat into the backseat of the Bronco. Jake was too busy trying to reread the instructions. “Nope, I can’t do this right now I need a break.” The pair of naval aviators had been off work for the better half of the week and while you were out grocery shopping, Jake had come over to lend a helping hand at putting together some flat pack furniture. “Good thing this baby isn’t coming for another few months.” 

“Ah, you’ve jinxed it now!” Jake teased, clicking his fingers at Bradley to grab his attention. “Also, apparently it’s meant to face the other way round.” Jake grinned ear to ear as Bradley deadpanned him. Giving up in entirety before he turned back to the house with a huff. “Oh come on! Where are you going, Rooster! we almost had it!” Jake laughed, jogging after his wingman up to the house. 

“I need a beer!” It had been a long afternoon for the two men who had done nothing but unpack and organise the nursery. Bradley was in his own nesting phase. He’d read in a bunch of parents books that nesting was something you’d go through in preparation for the little spud on the way. He was now finding that he was doing it too. 

“Oh I’ll take one too.” Jake trailed behind Rooster into the kitchen. “Job well done deserves a bevy.” Just as Bradley opened the fridge and passed Jake the Budweiser, his phone began to ring out on the kitchen counter. “Oh—unknown number man.” Jake announced. 

“It’s probably Y/n.” Bradley twirled his wedding band as he stood to answer his phone that was sitting on the kitchen bench, not recognising the number lighting up his screen. For a moment he wasn’t going to answer because why would you be calling from an unknown number. But he just had a gut feeling. He’d called you a few times before hand but you never answered, maybe this was you calling him back? 

“Hello?”

“Hello? Is this Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw?” A woman who sounded more panicked than calm spoke—needing a confirmation before continuing with her call. 

“This is he?” Bradley responded, turning back to Jake with a confused look on his face, eyes glancing up at the time. Five thirty in the afternoon. You should have been home an hour ago. 

“Lieutenant Bradshaw, we’ve just had a one Y/n Bradshaw admitted.” The woman on the other end of the phone call Bradley almost didn’t answer, explained. “Your wife, she’s unfortunately been involved in a severe accident and—“ Bradley didn’t hear the rest of what the nurse had to say as he dropped his phone, it clunked and clambered from the kitchen bench to the tiled floor below. “Hello? Mr Bradshaw?” Unable to process the news he’d just been told Bradley began to panic as his vision tunnel and his mind went numb. 

“Jake—“ Was it Bradley’s fault? Was he a terrible husband for not noticing how long you’d been gone? Was there something wrong with your car? You’d mentioned a time or two that the air conditioning had been making a funny noise. “Jake I can’t breathe—“ Bradley clutched at his chest as he groaned, it felt like his entire world was collapsing around him. “I can’t fucking breathe.” 

“Oh-okay, yeah we’re leaving right now.” Jake confirmed as he spoke to the lady on the phone. Hangman had picked up the phone Rooster had dropped, he listened to what the woman on the other end of the line had to say as Bradley started to sob, losing his grip on reality. 

Jake reached out to touch Bradley’s shoulder in an attempt to confront the aviator who’s world had just shattered into a million pieces, the moment he did though Jake Seresin witnessed his best friend collapse down to his knees in unimaginable pain at the thought of losing you. His girl. His wife. His best friend. The love of his life. The mother of...oh god the mother of his child. 

“Rooster we gotta g—“

“I can’t lose her!!” Bradley screamed as warm tears drenching his flushed face. “Can’t—won't lose her. I can’t!” Jake knew Bradley was hyperventilating, he’d seen a panic attack a time or two before when Bob had stayed in his spare room while his house was being painted. Jake also knew a panic attack when he saw one because he got them too. But this? This was a panic attack shrouded in heartache, one Jake would never understand. 

“Hey, hey Rooster.” Jake crouched down before his wingman— knowing he needed all the strength he could get. On the inside Jake was a mess. If Bradley lost you that meant Jake lost you too. Holding the back of Bradley’s head as he leaned in. “Listen man, this is so fucked up but she needs you, Y/n needs you to be there for her because she can’t do this alone? Alright? We gotta go— you’re her husband Rooster.” Jake reminded him. “Y/n needs her husband to be there for her okay? In sickness and in health you promised her.” 

Bradkey sobbed uncontrollably—but he got up. Knowing Hangman was right. You needed him, and like fuck was he gonna let you slip through his fingers. 

“Okay, okay let’s go.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~

It’s needless to say Bradley Bradshaw was a mess—a sobbing, shaking, totally exhausted figment of his former stoic self in the private waiting room nurses had told him to wait in. Jake contacted your mum and dad, he called Mav and Penny too who were already on their way over to the Miramar Base Hospital because hell was Mav somewhat sob going to go through this alone. 

“We don’t know what’s going on.” Bradley could just faintly hear Jake on the phone with Phoenix as he sat and twisted his wedding band around his ring finger. It kept him grounded but the tangible reminder of your love did nothing to stop Rooster's mind from thinking of the very worst. 

“We haven’t been told a single thing—“ Jake sighed as he ran his hand through his sun kissed hair locks. “No, no he’s not in a good way.” 

Bradley could hear only Jake's voice and only his answers. But he knew Phoenix would be going stir crazy not know what had happened or what was going on, they all would be. Every single member of Bradley’s naval squadron had become like family to you both. Extensions on the small albeit perfect family you were just starting. 

Bradley thought he knew heartbreak, thought he’d been through pain. He’d lost his dad when he was just shy of three years old and his mother just after his seventh birthday. But nothing—nothing, compared to the heartache of not knowing what was happening to you. If you were alive, if your baby was okay? If Rooster had just lost his young family before it had a chance to grow old. 

“Lieutenant Bradshaw?” An older looking woman in scrubs asked as she knocked. Both Bradley and Jake looked up—both just as desperate for answers. “Hi” She cooed. “My names Jannette, I’ve been with your wife since she came in—“

“H-how is she?” Bradley could barely speak at this point, he was too afraid to know but needed answers. Although he’d stood from the chair he’d been perched in he still twirled his wedding band around his finger. He still needed that tangible reminder. You loved him, no matter what the outcome was you would always love him. To the moon and back and twice over you’d say before he left for deployments. 

In all Bradley’s years he always thought he’d be the one leaving you behind—he never once thought his wife that cut and arranged flowers for a living would leave him, the naval aviator who flew super hornets for a living. But here he stood in some twisted parallel universe that felt like a plot ripped straight from an episode of the twilight zone. 

“She’s critical, my colleagues are still working on her as we speak.” The room went silent as Bradley forgot how to breathe. Jake was by his side in seconds. “It's touch and go.” 

“My baby? How’s my baby?” If anything mattered to you, it was your unborn child. Bradley knew if anything happened to them that you'd never forgive yourself. You’d rather die than live a life without your baby. You’d done everything in your power to make sure they had the best chance of being strong and healthy and safe. You’d been the perfect mother. 

“She” The nurse smiled. “Is okay, we did however have to do an emergency c-section because your wife was unfortunately not able to carry her to full turn due to her uterus filling with blood.” It was a whirlwind of emotions. Bradley Bradshaw was suddenly a father, he had a baby girl. 

“Rooster, you have a little girl.” Jake helped Bradley take a few agonising steps as he took in the news. You’d given him a baby girl. A tiny little you. How could he ever thank you enough? How could he ever begin to repay that debt of gratitude, of love? 

“You can see her if you’d like? She’s in the NICU.” Jannette explained. “But you won’t be able to touch her without protection until she’s used to the new environment, premature babies can catch infections and colds despite our best efforts, so it’s best she says in the incubation chamber.”

“C’mon Bradshaw, let's go meet your little girl, yeah? You know Y/n wouldn’t want her left alone.” Jake was right. Bradley could hear everything going on around him but he couldn’t speak. He was still taking all this in. He was a dad, a girl dad. He was the father to your daughter and you weren’t here to see him start this new chapter. 

God it was bittersweet. 

“When will I know how my wife is?” Bradley asked as he followed the nurse he towered over—she had a little waddle that Jake couldn’t help but notice. 

“You’ll be the first to know her updated condition, Lieutenant, but from what I’ve seen so far your wife is one hell of a fighter, not a lot of people in her condition would’ve come out of that alive.”

Braduheld onto that tiny shred of hope, clung to it for dear life as he followed the nurse to meet his baby’s girl—way too early. How do you introduce yourself to a baby? Jake was right beside him. Do you think Jake Seresin would ever let his wingman walk alone through such a tragedy? 

Absolutely not. 

“Bradley, this is your daughter, obviously she doesn’t have a name so we called her Jane as protocol - short for Jane Doe.” The little girl was so incredibly tiny. She was dwarfed by wires and tubes connected all over her tiny body helping her little lungs breathe. Bradley couldn’t distinguish if she looked more like you or him. But fuck he wished she looked like you. He took a seat next to the incubator that held his bundle of joy. The joy he’d been blessed with by you. The joy and light of his world he’d helped create, a blend of you and him. 

“H-hey little one.” Rooster struggled to talk. “I’m your Dadda, your mums in a little bit of a situation right now but I’ve got you yeah?” Tears ran down Bradley’s face as he placed a fingertip against the glass. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you, ever.” 

Rooster always said he’d never love anyone more than he’d love you—but this little girl? God she was already Bradley’s entire fucking world. For a single second he forgot you were in surgery. Watching as your daughter's tiny lips curled into a soft smile of a mere second. Bradley liked to think it was her acknowledging his presents. 

“Bradley?” Jannette interrupted, Bradley had forgotten all sense of time as he sat with his baby girl. “It’s your wife—she’s stable, sleeping but stable. She’s being moved to the ICU for around the clock observation.”

“When can I Uh, when can I see her?” Bradley let out a sob as he thanked the heavens above, his little family was okay—not great, not thriving with heath, but okay. Stable. Jake finally allowed himself to breathe for the first time all night. 

“We can go up there if you like?” Bradley nodded in response—looking over at Jake who already knew what his wingman was about to ask. 

“I’ll stay here, keep her company, go get your girl Rooster.” Jake hugged Bradley as tight as he ever had before. “You’re a dad man, congratulations.” Being the big brother Bradley needed but didn’t have. “I got you brother.”

Bradley didn’t know what to do when he first saw you—he stood at the doorway just staring at the women who had given him everything. So injured, so hurt. And he couldn’t do anything to help ease your pain. Even through all the injuries, tubs and wires, much like the little girl you gave precious life to, you still look beautiful. So gorgeous, so at peace. 

A soft “oh god” escaped Bradley’s mouth as he held back sobs walking towards you. Nurse Jannette giving him the space he so desperately needed with you. Bradley took in the sight before him. His beautiful wife, mother of his daughter, laying so lifeless in a hospital bed. He wished so bad you could be at home with him right now, tangled in the warm sheets, smiling and being your “happy go lucky” self instead of here. He wished so badly he could take you anywhere else in the world. 

Anywhere but here—like this. 

“Hey beautiful.” Bradley whispered. Biting his bottom lip to stop himself from breaking down for what felt like the one hundredth time tonight. “You don’t know it yet but you’re a mama, and dammit baby you’ll be the best fucking mum on earth.” Bradley grabbed the nearby seat and pulled it close. Once his hand was in yours there was no place else Rooster wanted to be then right by your side. Although he wished the two of you could be anywhere else together. 

“You’re gonna be okay baby, maybe not today or next week? But you’ll be okay. I won’t let you be anything but okay.” Bradley mumbled through soft sobs as he took notice of every injury that plagued your body. Every cut, stitch, wrap and blood stained patch that littered the soft and supple skin he loved so much. Bradley especially noticed the gash on your cheek—stitched. 

As Rooster sat with you, he could see your eyelids moving. He knew you were conscious, just sleeping. Heavily medicated, he knew you could hear every word he spoke. But soon Bradley Bradshaw watched in awe as you placed your hand over your stomach. Checking to see if your little spud was alright. When you noticed how small your stomach felt you moaned. 

“My—my baby?” Your eyes weren’t even open yet and you already knew something was terribly wrong. Even if your entire body was in agonising pain you needed to make sure your baby was alright. 

“Hey shh, shh, shh, I got you.” Bradley cooed, his hand gently reaching out to cup your cheek—the side without any noticeable injuries that would bring you discomfort. “She’s alright mama, she’s here a little early but she’s okay—j-just like you yeah.” 

“She?” Your eyes opened slowly at the sound of your husband’s voice—your neck killed as you turned to face him. Giving up quickly. Bradley was quick to notice the wince you let out. 

“She mama, our little girl. Both my girls gave me a pretty big heart attack this afternoon huh? Are you trying to kill me honey?” Bradley smiled. Noticing how you smiled back for a brief moment before the muscles in your cheeks gave up. 

“I’m so sorry” You whispered—eyes closed again as you couldn’t stand the light of the room. “I don’t know what happened— no one came though.” You started to cry. “No one came when I called for help for so long.” Bradley leaning in to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“I’m here, I came, I’m not going anywhere my love.” Rooster sobbed back, sometimes being strong meant crying along with the ones you love. “God I thought I lost you.” 

“He said it wasn’t my time to go.” You sighed, clearly fighting off the urge to fall asleep. So groggy from the medicine that even the thought of being a mother hadn’t truly set in yet—all you cared about was that your baby was safe. She was alive. 

“Who did bub? One of the paramedics?” Bradley asked, a little confused as he pushed hair away from your face and made sure the oxygen tube was sitting just right. 

“He was in the car, said I couldn’t leave you yet, that you’d be lost without me.” You softly grinned while your eyes rested. “Had a moustache just like yours.” 

Bradley sat back in shock as he watched you drift back to sleep. Holding your hand thinking how the universe worked in mysterious ways. Bradley had promised to love you in good times and in bad - through sickness and in health. He’d live in the damn hospital if he had to—anything to be by your side. 

“God I hate it when he does this.” Goose groaned as he watched his son’s name appear on the shattered phone on the floor of your busted up car. “You’re not ready, it’s not your time so why bother even putting your through this crap.” The man spoke as you fell unconscious. “It’s not your time my dear and my son certainly needs you by his side or he’ll go crazy.” You listened, tried to nod, smile, anything to let him know you heard him. “You’ll be alright kid.”

Bradley Bradshaw had his family. He had his daughter, he had you. Going back and forth with Jake from room to room watching as both his girls slept. Both of you were still so unaware of the turmoil Bradley had been through. He nearly lost you. Without you? Bradley would’ve been helpless. 

But someone watching over him knew that as well as he did. A guardian angel not only watched over him....

But over his girls too.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*

[sharkiethrts]

hi! speaking of ur modern sunday…i’d like to request sunday x reader, where reader is absent because they’re sick and sunday just spends the entire day trying not to mope before he visits them. just smth rlly silly where he’s on student council etc having to try to subtly text his s/o.

robin is kind of over him but who cares‼️

prompt: highschool!au reader is sick and responsibility ridden Sunday must ensure that the assembly goes on without a hitch, despite his worries for her.

warning: none.

relationships: modern!sunday x gender neutral!reader (highschool!au)

author’s note: so sorry for the late response! I was eagerly awaiting for the day when I can finally work on this! :) (Two more exams to go, exams should end by Friday. Wish me luck!)

This is also not reread and is posted late at night, so do forgive me for any type of grammatical or spelling mistakes or if the pacing of the story is too rushed!

- Highschool au! Sunday is so obviously the president of the student council

- He is popular among everyone and when it was announced that he was running for president, everyone accepted defeat and simply resorted for vice presidents and secretaries roles instead (the surplus of people that signed up for vice presidents that year were daunting, hoping for a chance to work closely alongside him)

- Prior to his appointment as president (which he was rightfully confident in winning), he had always made sure to spend time with you after school (even going as far as to not sign up to any clubs for the michaelmas term after you jokingly chastised him for ‘prioritising Mrs Burns, TA of the reading club’ instead of you)

- However, post appointment Sunday found it difficult to make compromises like so, much to his chagrin- with the added rewards, the necessary expectations would naturally accompany and hence his dilemma:

- Oh, how the thought of you ailed with a cold squeezes his heart so, his hand itching towards his phone every second

- He’s sure that his composure will fall soon and that it’d only be a matter of time

“Please ensure that the seventh up until the twentieth seats are marked, it’s reserved for the parents visiting today,” Sunday reminds the flushed boy, clearly not used to the responsibility he is expected to conform to and although Sunday attempts to maintain a composed facade throughout, it’d be a lie to say that he isn’t positively frustrated by how incredibly slow he is. Seriously, the drink aisle should clearly be placed inside the auditorium, not outside. It’s summer for goodness sake, by the time the guests arrive, the drinks will be diluted with ice and the honey would have been completely dissipated.

Speaking of honey, perhaps he should consider saving some for you. The Manuka honey booked specially for this occasion is known for doing wonders for your throat. Perhaps he should ask kitchen staff to pack a bottle or two for him? They quite adore him so, it shouldn’t be difficult for him to ask for a favour or two of this size. Interrupting his train of thought, it seems that the incompetent boy couldn’t stand having a supervising eye off him for even a second. Sunday watched in controlled horror as he dropped a tray or two, effectively denting the sides of the perfect sliver.

“Miss Amelie,” Sunday calls, his hand reaching for the back of the boy’s waist, helping him up, “Help him with relocating the treats, we can’t have dented sliver wares front and centre in the room.”

The said girl quickly arrives, her head down and stressed, “I’ll tell him what to do, don’t worry-“

“-I should hope that this predicament ends soon, I do have quite a few appointments to attend to,” Sunday cuts her off coldly, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. It’s not uncommon for Sunday to become cold at times, if not outright off putting. With uneducated rumours of his OCD and what not. However, it seems that this doesn’t seem to be one of his tangents, rather, he seems… occupied.

Sunday mulls over the thought of your upset face, further dampening his mood. How incredibly horrible of him, despite his previous talks of marriage with you during your late night calls- he only feels more incompetent and ineligible for the title of husband. He’s not only inattentive but outright unsupportive. What type of boyfriend who asks for your hand in marriage would leave you all alone in your bed fighting a cold alone? His frown deepens and he catches a few of the volunteers flinch due to it, clearly worried that they may have triggered him somehow.

He flashes them a friendly smile, to which he sees them relax slightly to before tending to their duties quickly.

While making haste with the decorations and reading over the script he had prepared for the following speech (god forbid he reads off a script, it’s one his many pet peeves and he is not willing to entertain the thought of slacking off in his chase for perfection), he thinks of your voice when you had greeted him this morning via phone call. Despite your obviously tired disposition, you had taken the initiative to call him to motivate him for the following day, you seem to know him well enough to realise his unending infatuation with your voice (how embarrassing for him but he’s far too touched to care for it for now).

Despite your well wishes and intentions, the phone call left him with more guilt and worries than assurance.

‘I’m fine’, you had insisted, saying that you had managed to snack on cut apples for breakfast.

By the moment Sunday snaps out of his thoughts, he notices a crinkle at the side of the paper where his thumb laid.

He’s not composed at all.

“ Sunday?”

By the time the clock struck ten and the assembly had concluded, Sunday took it upon himself to rent a bike at a nearby bus stop rather than waiting for his driver, hoping to make a quick detour to your house instead (his adoptive father would never have allowed him to do so). He had recognised your address from your first date, where he dropped you off by your neighbour’s house to prevent you from getting teased by your parents (you had insisted and he obliged). Your mother was there to greet him by the door, clearly whiplashed by the sight of a disconcerted, red faced handsome boy standing at her front door. She quickly flashes him a look of familiarity, to which he feels happy at (you must have shown your mother pictures of him, his ears redden at the thought).

He could only hope that you showed her the good ones and that despite your mischievous peculiarity, you’d care enough to help him make a good impression.

“You look much handsome in real life,” Your mother comments when he enters.

Never-mind. You definitely took it upon yourself to show her the worst ones. He could only pray that they don’t include his baby features, where his bangs were chopped short, “I apologise for coming so late, I came as soon as the assembly had finished-“

“- I understand,” Your mother chuckles, “I’m more impressed that a teenage boy would make so much effort to care for a partner with a flu when it’s so close to midnight,” She hands him a glass of warm water, urging him to walk up the stairs to your room, “They’d heal in no time after all.”

He shakes his head decisively, “That’d be an unfitting behaviour for a husband.”

The once vibrant mood turned quiet in no time and realising what he had said, his cheeks flushed a vibrant red and his ears burned incessantly.

Your mother watches him with shell shocked expression, thankfully the glass had been on Sunday’s hand at this point, judging by how her hand had loosened immediately he had blurted the words out, the glass would have been on the floor otherwise. Which would have been unsightly for a first impression.

“SUNDAY!”

He hears your familiar yell, clearly happening upon his arrival and his words.

He had planned to scold you for your misdemeanours (showing your mother terrible pictures of him) but it seems that he had committed a far graver crime than you did: an impromptu proposal at hours so close to midnight.

“… I sincerely apologise. Please pretend you didn’t hear anything.”

Sunday wishes for the concrete floors to eat him alive.

[tuliptired]

Good Trouble on The Lake

Pairing: kid!Ray Stantz/kid!Egon Spengler

Summary: Ray Stantz was always great at making friends! So great, he got Egon Spengler out of his shell. Enough to almost die in the woods, anyway.

Sorry this one is kinda long 😣

read it on Ao3!

It’s a fairly uneventful afternoon in the Ghostbusters’ headquarters. Winston and Peter volunteered a supermarket run (dish soap, paper towels, miscellaneous snacks) in order to escape how slow the morning was, and somehow, someway, Raymond Stantz didn’t have a thing to do.

Miraculously, Egon Spengler was also overtaken by the monotony of the day, and by the grace of some god, was actually taking a break. For the first time in Ray’s life, he sits along as his friend studies a newspaper, rather than a manual. Ray can’t blame him, as he attempts to read a classic paranormal novel, though he’s really just rereading the same sentence and thinking of nothing while laying on the couch. 

“Ray,” Egon breaks the silence, tone as interested as the scientist can express, “it says here that they’re looking to close Camp Little Tupper.” Ray’s brows shoot up. He could almost laugh at hearing the abysmal name again, if it wasn’t under such sad circumstances.

“No way!” He moves to sit up, this news now much more interesting than his book. “Gosh, I can remember that place like it was yesterday. Swimming, building robots…”

“Mosquito bites, swirlies…”

“Stargazing! Math-a-tho-”

“Food poisoning. You almost killing me.”

Ray scoffs. “Not true at all! Those were just inconveniences. You turned out great, Eges.” Egon was technically right. He definitely could’ve died that day, but the memory brings an even bigger smile to Ray’s face, and by the look of Egon’s slightly elevated eyebrows, he was equally as bemused. “It was fun, huh?”

“I must concede, had I never gone, we may have never developed such a long term partnership.” Gee, Egon really knew how to misconstrue the word “friendship”.

“You’re very welcome! We’ve gotta go back before they shut the doors- we never found the Tupper Banshee.” Ray’s eyes nearly sparkle as he thinks about all the possibilities; studying such a solid entity, upgrading their tech, and revisiting old memories with an even older friend. Nothing sounds better on such a dull day, really. “Why’re they closing, anyway?” He adds curiously.

Egon’s eyes scan multiple paragraphs, multiple pages, but he can’t find an answer. “Nothing so far, but if anything I’d bet it would be the terrible environmental impact.” Ray just snorts, thinking back to everything that happened to him the second, and final, summer he spent there. 

It was a warm summer sometime in the 60s, and Ray’s parents had just dropped him off out of the city and into the woods for his second year at Camp Little Tupper. Though it was a combined science and athletics camp (he found this out his first day his year prior), he always felt very excited to indulge in the hobby he was passionate about. He was a bit of a camping connoisseur, much to his Mid-Western parents’ delight, after many years of camping out with them in almost any suitable woodland area accessible by car. He fondly remembers going back to Camp Wacanda every summer, but that was with family, it was time for him to be a little independent and freely geeky. 

So, he pleaded and begged his parents to enroll him , “ They do experiments! I’ll never mix stuff in the shed ever again!” , until they finally gave in to his sad eyes and relentless reminders. He loved his first year so much, though he had to share the space with some less-than-academic-types, and his parents were willing to see him off again if it meant he’d smile that long again. 

As he carried all his belongings through the woods, in a group of other boys around 11 and 12 like he was at the time, he felt unbelievably giddy at the sight of the cabin he’d already spent time in. They were let in, but upon his entry he frowned to see that almost every bed was taken, top bunk as well as bottom. He suddenly felt smaller, anxiety betraying the months worth of anticipation as he carried his backpack close to his chest, looking around for a free spot.

On the top bunk of a bed in the very back, a small boy sat cross legged, unpacked and already reading to escape the loud noises of his roommates. Ray’s excitement returned, and he didn’t question it as he approached him eagerly. The unknown boy had dark, curly hair, cut only a little from falling below his large ears, and a pretty untamable fringe. His glasses were thick, and almost comically big for his face, almost like his clothes- a short sleeve button up (pocket protector included! And Ray thought he was nerdy) tucked into khaki shorts. His face was unamused, but Ray was not deterred as he looked up at the kid. 

“Hi! I’m Raymond. But call me Ray.” He beams. The kid just stares down at him, then suddenly speaks, as if he forgot that introductions typically elicit responses. 

“Egon Spengler.” 

Ray can only chuckle, hanging off the other boy’s bunk with his forearms while his feet graze the ground. Maybe he was invading his space, but excitement will do that to you.  “That’s a funny name. But it’s ok. My grandma says a unique name means a unique person.” The boy stares at him for a second more, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly if you looked impossibly close enough. “Sure,” is all he responds with. 

Ray sheds his heavy bags on the bunk below him. “Is this your first time here? What made you wanna come? Not that you’re not welcome,” he unconsciously rambles as he digs into his cargo shorts for something he can’t yet find. 

The other boy, Egon, seems to have eased into conversation slightly more. “My parents thought I needed more enrichment. The Royal Society doesn’t take summer students, so our Rabbi suggested,” he looks over his glasses, nose scrunching ever so slightly as he takes in the cabin around him. It was undeniably full of bodies, and boys (regardless of social standing, nerd or jock) will continue to be chimps, tossing things around and roughhousing. “This place.”

Ray laughs at that. Egon disregards his book, as he notices Ray has no intention of staying quiet for too long. He’s still digging in his shorts, though. “I bet your siblings are green knowing you get to spend the summer in such a cool place,” he laughs to himself.

Egon’s brow quirks once, quickly. “I only have a twin. He’s in Yosemite, studying ecology under a ranger.” 

“Man. Guess you’re happy to be away from him.”

“I am incredibly jealous and I’d give anything to trade places.”

Ah. “Well, the black bears at Yosemite can’t have smores.”

Egon’s legs are draped over the edge of the bunk now. “No bear can have a smore. They don’t have thumbs.”

Ray’s taken to scouring through his backpack instead. Where did that thing sneak off to? “I only have a sister. But we live in a big house with our cousins! Aunts and uncles and lots of babies and a bigggggg St. Bernard.” Ray can’t help but feel a little homesick, even if his sister was happy to see him go. It was a house full of people who all loved each other, at the end of the day. 

“That sounds abysmal,” was all Ray heard as he finally, finally found what he was looking for. He pulls out 2 Now and Laters like they’re the holy grail- which, to 2 11-year-olds, they are. To this day, he swears he can see a twinkle behind his new friend’s eyes. Egon slips down from the bunk, oddly industrial boots hitting the wooden floor.

The boys are called outside to start the festivities. “My dad told me to share with a new friend,” he smiles gently as Egon silently unwraps the candy. “And if we’re friends, you hafta help me take apart some smoke detectors.” Egon had no protests.

This was the start of their “partnership”. Life at camp was everything a nerdy kid could dream of, on a fairly low budget. Life and potential surrounded them, afterall. Of course, they were mandated at least one session of physical activity, much to Egon’s dismay. They were only excused when Egon threw up on the sidelines of a flag football game, and Ray joined him because “it gave them more time to finish Dune”. Though, he always snuck off to join baseball games, and Egon just filled him in on what Paul did before bed.

Once, at lunch, Ray couldn’t help but stare at his friend. In the past few weeks, it was like his hair grew this way overnight. Instead of being cut before it could touch his neck, it was round and untamable and long, his ears full on disappearing and his fringe touching his glasses. Of course, many boys grew their hair out while they were away-there was a barber readily available, but he cut way too close to the head so many just bore with the added weight. But a style of these proportions? Uncharacteristic and NOT Egon. But, to be scared of a haircut? Very Egon.

“Hey, Egon,” he starts. He picks off the lettuce and tomato from his sandwich, passing them to the boy on his side, whose nose is in a book as he adds the vegetables to his own and passes the meat and cheese to Ray in return. “Are you too scared to get your haircut?” He asks, in the middle of a bite.

Egon bookmarks the page. “Not necessarily. This is my own personal rebellion- my mother sent me away to a summer camp, I’m trying to test the extent of her anger if I come back-”

“Looking like curly Led Zeppelin?”

“...yes.”

“D’you think she’ll be mad? Like, spanking mad?”

Egon sighs slightly. “Enough to drive her to spit. I’m terrified.”

Ray touches his friend’s shoulder sympathetically. “Hey, it’s an experiment! She’ll get over it.”

Egon doesn’t say anything. He opens his book again, thinking over the new perspective.

Activities in camp were fun. But the two boys found themselves criminally bored. So they made a few adjustments to the experiments. It started small, no one knew it was them; a few cleaning products taken from the supply closets, of course they don’t know who’s baking soda volcano melted a hole into the metal table. The nails holding the swings together suddenly missing as the pair coincidentally had the material to make copper wiring.

But they got ambitious, and a little sloppy. It was dark out, while every other camper was by the lake, Egon and Ray opting to take care of the wild platypus they’d let into their living space. She resisted eating the leftover snacks and sleeping soundly in the crafty pile of blankets Ray left under his bed, him and Egon huddled in fear on Egon’s bed as their new pet ravaged the cabin. Just then, the door handle clicked open.

Ray grumbled as they were locked inside, forced to clean up the items desecrated by the animal he thought was his friend. Beside him, almost straining to hear, he heard a small sniffle.

Egon was facing away from him, fistfuls of pillow stuffing trembling ever so slightly. Ray frowned. Egon never cried, not even when their kayak drifted out from the other boys’, and they were floating away. With no food. As it rained. In mosquito breeding territory. While Egon was in day clothes because he was terrified of water and refused to swim. He made a resolve.

“Don’t cry, Eges! It’s like you’ve never been hollered at before,” he tried joking to alleviate the mood. Egon only turned to look over his shoulder, his face chagrin and his eyes just barely glossy, lips threatening to break out in sobs had he had a little less pride. 

“Hey.” Ray slid into a spot on the scratched up, dusty floor next to him. “You wanna know what the ladies in my family say?” He can remember his mother repeating these words when he would cry for minutes on end over small things, like when Bambi was all alone in the forest, or his sister was out on his bike without asking. Egon didn’t say anything, but kept on peering at Ray through the gap between his frames, a sign to keep talking.

“They all say: ‘Raymond, did anyone die? Is anyone hurt? Will the sun come up tomorrow?” Egon looks at him incredulously, unamused by the teachings of Heartland mothers. Ray keeps going.

“Egon, did anyone die?” 

“Egon, was anyone hurt?”

“The camp ranger when Maria Skłodowska-Curie scratched him.”

“Egon, will the sun come up tomorrow?” No tangible response.

Ray unconsciously moves a little closer, scraped and dirty knee brushing Egon’s slightly cleaner one. Egon would be damned if he didn’t notice, but what to make of it was hard. Ray was always moving, like a motor that never knew when it ran out of gas. It was different from other boys their age, he wasn’t ever trying to fulfill the societal pressure to be physical, or whatever the reason young boys felt the need to wrestle or hit or roughhouse. It was almost like he was…searching for stimuli. Egon actively avoided it, he knew what limited things he enjoyed and he stuck to those things. But being here, with Ray, challenged him. He was a constant, but a chaotic one. Egon was puzzled, and whether his face grew warm because of these discoveries, coming down from almost crying, or an unknown 3rd thing, he couldn’t deduce.

“My mom says there’s bad trouble. That’s stuff you can’t fix easy, like hurt feelings or broken windows.” Ray tries as hard to be as smart as his mom, as insightful. As open and caring. Egon sees it, and he’s never met the woman.

‘But there’s good trouble too,” Ray grins, sickening optimism breaking through again. “Scientists make good trouble. It’s stuff that works out. Like making a mess when you make the girl down the street cookies.” Egon lets out an amused puff of air through his nose.

“Or,” Ray interjects, scared of alienating his friend with the analogy for whatever reason, “growing your hair out despite your mom not wanting you to.” His smile was knowing as he dipped his head into Egon’s space. He quickly sat up a little straighter.  “Because- uh, it looks nice! I wish my hair was curly like that, my sister says I’ll be bald by 20. Not that bald isn't cool! Sigmund Freud was bald…A lot of…Jewish guys…are bald…” He almost whispered, his mouth snapping shut. Raymond Stantz never whispered, maybe a stage whisper if the situation was dire. He toyed with the sand in between floorboards, head down.

Egon could only breathe out a laugh, shaking his head slightly as he stuffed a ruined pillowcase into a trash bag. “Good trouble.”

He doesn’t feel 12 right now. And he’s sure Ray doesn’t either.

So days of good trouble followed them, and in turn they spent most of their time “grounded”, locked in their bunk for entire days while their cabin mates were free. The first day was a little rough, Ray watched on as his friends excavated fake Egyptian artifacts, hands on the glass almost comically as Egon sat, reading. They both agreed their jailing was uncalled for, and that some teenagers couldn’t really “ground them”, so with Egon sputtering under Ray’s 12 year old weight, they clammored out the bathroom window and into the woods. 

They were able to conduct their experiments, test any hypothesis that arises, away from everyone else. They searched for ancient ruins, tried carbon dating rocks (to no avail) and built god knows what out of any metal and scrap they could find. They were back every night, findings scrawled in a notebook and supplies haphazardly tucked under Ray’s bunk. 

This wasn’t a foolproof way of operating, and they would get caught with a soldering iron or thermos of motor oil every now and then, and then days stuck in the cabin became more and more common. For whatever reason, no counselor thought to lock the windows.

Miraculously, they had streaks of good behavior. And they were allowed to sit at campfires with the other boys, though they were stared like criminals until the stories at hand caught campwide attention.

A counselor leaned in close to the fire, fingers wiggling and voice dark as he recalled the stories of spirits trapped in bathrooms, eternally tethered to the lake. The other boys refused to believe him, partly because all the ghosts he spoke of were girls, partly because “ghosts weren’t science”. Both Ray and Egon went back to their cabin early, and silently, smores in hand.

Egon sat on his bed, as always, reading a book, but not the same, thick one with worn pages Ray had gotten used to seeing but never asking about. His head appears in the corner of Egon’s vision, climbing onto his bunk. He simply moves his legs to make room, finding himself not minding how his blanket will wrinkle and smell like Ray.

“I have to tell you something.”

Egon blinks once, eyes widening. He sighs, reaching behind his pillow for a pen and notepad. “This was bound to happen eventually. When did it start?”

“A few years ago, why?”

Egon blinked again, discarding the notes. “We’re thinking of different things.”

“I’m talking about…me believing in ghosts!” He lets it spill out like a rotten secret. He can tell that such a smart guy like Egon would just laugh in his face at the thought, but he can’t hold it in anymore. Ghosts were his thing! They’ve been his thing forever- supplied by an endless trove of paranormal books at his disposal at the bookstore his mother worked at, and summers spent in the deep history of the semi-rural United States. He was 100% a believer, from the dead opossum his neighbor is convinced haunts her basement to ancient demons to aliens watching over him every night. Ghosts, and how to see them, were always running through his mind. It was why he wanted to pursue science, not just because machines were his first love, but because with every discovery he poured over he was closer to making contact.

“Do you…think they’re real?” Ray’s heart beat in his ears, his friend’s expression unreadable.

“Duh.”

Ray could hit the ceiling then and there. His nervousness dissipated as he smiled, hard, probably the hardest he had smiled since June, not when he got an old microscope to work with Egon’s help or he found a way to get steady radio signals, but now. He lept of the bed with fervor, so much so that Egon scrambled after him for fear of his knees buckling. Unscathed, he ducked under his bunk and felt around for something. He emerged with a large, worn out pillow case.

Dumping its contents onto the ground, they tons of were old paranormal journals, ghost stories, photo albums. Egon wondered if this was what Christmas felt like. Breaking out of his stupor, he found his bag tucked neatly in a hidden corner, and took out 3 books. Each had a library sticker, a testament to how little freedom he had to indulge in his interests.

“Part of the reason I came here was to test its psychokinetic energy,” He explained, “my parents would eviscerate me if they found out.”

Ray could jump for joy right then and there. For seemed like hours, probably 30 minutes, they indulged themselves in stories, theories, methods. For once, despite his easily made friends and large family, Ray felt seen on a new (and intellectual) level. For once, in light of his quiet life and authoritative family, Egon felt like fate, and being destined to meet someone, was real.

They ended up sprawled out on the floor, books open around them, plans for this machine and that computer drawn out. “Have you read about the Banshee of Tupper Lake?” He offered suspensefully. Egon didn’t speak his answer, his eyes conveying his interest as he turned his head to his friend.

Ray lifted his hands in the air, almost painting the story he’d read in “Old Tales of Old Spooks in The NorthEast”. “In 1872, peak ghost season, there was a town out here, on the very soil we’re sleeping on! It was sizable, a few hundred, but they were all mormons. I know! Mormons, all the way in New York? Anyway, it’s said they’re only here because someone, or some thing chased them out of Pennsylvania. In the summer of 72, 1872 that is, women were going mad. Running into the lake, screaming mad. The town became mostly men, and they had no choice to marry what girls were left. One night, during the world’s awkwardest wedding, one of the mad women named Mary Crocket rose out the water, rotted body and all, proclaiming that the next man to marry off a little girl was gonna turn up drowned the next day.”

Egon stared at the ceiling, as if Ray’s words were projecting the very moment above the pair. He turned back. “Fascinating. And progressive for Victorian era Mormons.”

No words were passed between them for what felt like forever.

“We gotta see her”

“Absolutely.”

That was easier said than done, as they waited weeks for the right time. They conducted smaller experiments, like testing each other every day for psychic powers, though their results were never favorable. Ray noted that he would need to find…maybe a tarot reader or a really skilled psychologist to help with this part of their study. They tried communicating with the 50 year old statue that greeted campers on their way in, but they never got a response. Ray tinkered with Egon’s fairly primitive PKE meter fashioned out an old radio, and promised that if he ever wanted to visit his house when summer ended, he’d get him the proper electronic additions for a proper reading. In the process, they were “grounded” more days out of the week than otherwise.

One morning, the day Ray proposed would have the best conditions (humidity, camp taking a hike all the way down the opposite side of the lake, insect activity), the boys sat on, watching everyone else prepare for their trek. 

“You delinquents better enjoy yourselves here, and think long and hard about what you’ve done. Joey, grab your bug spray.” Ray didn’t think he was deserving of being talked down to by a 16 year old with red hair, tube socks, and braces, but there he was. 

The cabin cleared out, and as soon as they disappeared on the horizon, Ray jumped up, grabbing his emergency camera (which he borrowed without telling his mom) and his bag, full of everything they’d need. He offered Egon his rain boots and coat, but he was proud to turn around and see his friend was already well equipped. Crossing along the bank of the river, Ray proposes it would be easier to find her place of death if they went through a shortcut in the trees, and as he started to disappear in the flora, Egon didn’t have much of a chance to protest.

Not only was it humid, but it was hot. Peak heat in the last few weeks of August beat down onto Egon’s head, and he was reconsidering having grown his thick hair out this much as it felt like a weight rather than an act of autonomy. Mosquitos and sharp, untamed grass grazed his ankles like barbs, and he sweat profusely under his raincoat. This was the price of science, however, what if she wanted them to follow her into the lake? He wouldn’t do it, but he wasn’t messing up a good shirt. Ray, somehow, didn’t complain once, though sweat and condensation was visible on his skin as he panted, still smiling.

Ray stopped, and Egon followed suit as he looked around. Ray didn’t say anything as he pulled out his copy of “Old Tales” for cross referencing, and Egon took the opportunity to relax. He bent over a bit, catching his breath, until he felt something brush his cheek. Unmoving, he could hear the buzz of a bee, and suddenly, the pinch and surge of venom.

“Raymond”

“Huh?”

“Reach in my bag and grab my epipen.” Egon eased himself to the ground, staying calm.

Ray’s eyes widen as big as saucers. “You got stung?” He asks, a fairly dumb question, as he drops his book.

“Grab my epipen.”

“Oh, oh geez. You’re not gonna die , right Eges?” Ray stutters, wringing his hands. Oh god, his face was turning red.

“Not if you get my epipen.”

“You're…gonna die…” Ray teared up at the thought, before full on weeping. 

“RAY! Get my epipen.” Egon could feel his eyes swelling shut. It was a little harder to breathe as he panicked himself.

“And…you’ll never get to see my radium collection or my dog…” He blubbered into his hands.

“PUT THE NEEDLE IN MY LEG!” 

Ray shuffled over at the worst time to be shuffling, digging into his friend's bag and pulling out things that were clearly not an epipen. “Is this it?” He sniffled, words barely intelligible as he held up a regular, ballpoint pen.

‘It’s an orange box with the words ‘Epipen’.” Ray recovered it, hands shaking. 

“Take it out, pull the cap off..” Ray’s face was wet with tears and snot.

“Stab it into my leg. Fast.” Egon took in a hiss of air as he braced for a pain that would never come.

Ray’s pupils shrunk. He wailed, leaning against Egon’s slowly asphyxiating and swollen body, going on about having to hurt him and losing his best friend. It would’ve touched Egon, if he still had the ability to see and feel his tongue. He wouldn’t mind dying here, if it was next to Ray- at least there was a chance of haunting the boy until he went insane. He could visit Einstein, compare notes. Tea with Louis Pasteur ought to be interesting.

His thoughts of passing on, unlike Ray’s crying, ceased as he heard many different footsteps approaching, and commotion as his leg was punctured by the anti-venom.

Their time at camp was, to say the least, cut short. Egon spent 2 days in hospital to monitor his reaction. His parents were silent the entire visit, not commenting on his hair or the fact he was ghosthunting when he almost died. To make things worse, his father smiled when addressed by a nurse. He knew he was in for it when he was discharged. Maybe a year of cleaning the chimney? Swimming lessons? He shuddered at the thought.

All wasn’t lost, surprisingly. Ray’s parents apologized about 100 times to the Spenglers, promising that “Ray was a smart boy who makes dumb decisions” and “he gets it from his father’s side” . He felt oddly at ease at seeing Mrs. Stantz, a strong-looking, full figured woman with short blond hair, green eyes, and wrinkles around her red lipstick and warm eyes from smiling, grabbing his hand and doting on him more than his nurses. Mr. Stantz was tall, and had a short beard, hair slightly red, and looked just as strong as his wife, eyes equally as kind as voice as boisterous, as Egon always thought a dad should be. He felt safe when the man asked him “how ya holdin’ up, buddy?” Hm. Many developments to be taken away here.

To his displeasure, he got the least amount of time with Ray. He was hidden behind his mother’s back in guilt, until he worked up the courage to apologize, taking to crying again as he threw himself onto Egon in a tight hug. 

He blinks a few times as the boy tears stain the collar of his hospital gown. “Ray, did anyone die?” Ray weakly laughed against his friend.

They spent the rest of their time going over the piles of research they conducted, mishap not taking away their zeal to study their shared field of interest. Ray had even brought his own copy of “Tobin’s Spirit Guide”, gifting it to Egon because he knew his borrowed books would have to be relinquished soon. He even traded addresses, so they could continue to write. Soon enough, hospital staff were ushering them out, but not before the Stantz family left behind gifts of pie, bean chili, fried chicken, cinnamon rolls, and even more pie. Egon waited until his parents were gone before he ravished the containers.

Upon their return home, both boys were justly punished. Egon’s worst nightmares got even more hellish- he was put into dance classes. Ray was kicked out the camp for life as if he’d lose sleep over it past age 14 (he lost an hour or two every few months) and he took up doing every family member’s chores until his parents thought he’d learned a lesson. It got better though, especially when letters with Einstein stamps appeared in his mail. He tried to continue fulfilling his need to be outdoors by signing up for boy scouts, “there is absolutely no way anyone can get hurt here, mom” and wrote to Egon urging him to join as well, only getting a full sheet of paper with the word “No.” His loss, he lost 5 cents. Ray was kicked out in the winter for, again, stealing smoke alarms from his scout leader’s house and taking their Americium.

“I found it, Ray,” Egon tilts the paper in his friend’s direction. 

“Alleged ghost sightings along the lakeshore.” The alarm goes off just then, as Janine leans over the staircase to fill them in. 

“Some camp up North saw a lady crawling out the lake.”

[ahundredtimesover]

Hiiii how is the love after!couple doing? 🥺💜

Are the girls healthy and happy? 🥺🥺 Guk-ah how is fatherhood going? 💜💜

It's been a while but here we are! I did a reread of TLA and i.hurt.so.much that I just had to write this bc I needed my own closure for all the pain 🥺 so here's a sneak peak into fatherhood and something more. (warning: animal hunting [sorry, rabbits!], sexual content)

Title: The Love After Drabble (06): Do you think it'll ever go away? The guilt of what I've done? || You're reminded of your past

WC: 7,579

From: The Love After (werewolf!JK x human!reader)

##

“Daddy, I want to be a pink wolf!”

“I want to be yellow!”

“But what if you don’t want to be yellow anymore?”

“What if you don’t want to be pink?”

You’ve opened the door by the time your daughters yell out in unison, “daddy, can we change our colors when we get older?”

You gaze at a wide-eyed Jungkook as he sits on the living room floor with Eunjoo and Hayoon on his lap, his mouth open then closing, perhaps trying to figure out how to tell his kids that, no, they can’t be either of those colors; neither can they change them.

He looks back at the 2 pairs of curious eyes and smiles. “Why don’t we ask Amma later, okay?”

“Okay!” They both squeal, turning to face you with a greeting and then focusing on their works again.

Jungkook stands up and helps you with the produce-filled bags and places them on the dining table. 

“We were just coloring and then they decided they wanted to be pink and yellow wolves,” he pouts at you. “I didn’t have the heart to tell them they can’t.”

“Yeah, so you’re gonna let Amma be the one to tell them?” You chuckle. “Back in my day, it was the ‘where did we come from’ question that my parents didn’t wanna answer. Amusing to think that now it’s this.”

“It’s just them, though,” Jungkook sighs. “I don’t think any of the other pups in this town want to have bright-colored fur or something.”

“They’re 3 years old, Kook,” you cup his cheek. “They’re being creative and imaginative and that’s normal when they have parents who read them stories every night. They’ll eventually learn the truth and they would’ve outgrown wanting to become pink or yellow or rainbow-colored wolves by then. So you don’t have to worry about disappointing them, okay?”

You know that’s what he’s more worried about - breaking your daughters’ hearts. It’s the one thing he can’t bear to do, and so many times you’ve had to talk about him learning to say no to them, otherwise they’ll grow up thinking that they could get anything they want, and that’s not the kind of world they live in. 

“Fine,” he gives in. “But I’ll really have them ask Amma so I don’t have to answer and see their disappointed faces.”

“Oh, Kook,” you hug him, wanting to comfort your mate who’s made it his goal to always make your daughters laugh and smile. “You’re doing great, okay? We are. I mean, look at them. At that age, Baram was constantly bullying me.”

You and Jungkook laugh as you both soften at the sight of your daughters who exchanged coloring books so they can decorate and draw on what their sister just did. They like sharing things with each other, and that includes their own creations. They like complimenting and hugging each other, too.

“Anyway, was your market run good?” He asks, walking to the kitchen to get the late breakfast dishes that he prepared for all 4 of you. 

“Yes,” you grin. “They finally have persimmons and oranges. I got more fruits and vegetables, too. All for half the price.”

“Perks of being the Beta’s mate,” he winks. 

“Obviously, although I think we would’ve gotten them for free if you were the one who went to buy,” you laugh. 

That wouldn’t be far from the truth. The whole town loves Jungkook, especially those who work at the market because he’s the one who makes sure that their harvests are safe from wild animals. They claim it’s just right that he doesn’t pay much for it; they earn due to his protection, after all. 

“That’s true, but those 2 didn’t want to let me go,” he smiles, thinking back to earlier in the morning. He checked on them in their new bedrooms and they woke up, immediately hugging him.

“They’ve missed you,” you say. “We were at my parents’ for an entire week because you decided to be all ‘father of the century’ by building the second floor so they could have a bigger room. You were gone most of the days and they just want to be with you.”

Jungkook shyly smiles and you melt when he does. He kept his promise of building a second story to accommodate your children. He built 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms upstairs and you were blown away when he revealed it to you and your daughters the other day. They squealed in excitement because they could finally have a big space for all their toys. 

You don’t know how Jungkook managed to do it in such a short time, but perhaps that has a lot to do with all the help from the townspeople and members of the pack. He rarely ever asks  for help, Taehyung told you, so when he inquired about plumbing and bathroom tiles, people were quick to offer. 

The second floor is stunning and you’re still in the process of designing it. But it took so much of Jungkook’s time, and so when your daughters woke up to their daddy’s voice, you’re sure they were ecstatic to spend the morning with him, too.

“They seem to like their room a lot,” Jungkook hums. “We were playing there earlier and they asked me to make a dresser and a chest for their things. I’ve got designs in my head already and I can’t wait to make them.”

“How are our daughters just 3 yet they already know what they want and how to get it?” You chuckle. Sure, they grow almost twice as fast as normal humans do, but still, a lot of the things they do surprises you.

“They get it from you,” he laughs now. “And they probably know that I’d do anything for them. I tell them every night.”

“I really hope we’re not raising spoiled kids, Kook,” you furrow your brows. 

“We aren’t. You’ll make sure of that.”

“Hey!” You nudge his knee. “I’m not the only one who’s gonna keep them in place.”

“Fine, fine. We both will,” he smiles. 

Parenting werewolves is not easy, and for a time, Jungkook didn’t think he’d ever be having this conversation with his mate. Neither did he think he’d ever be able to make this cabin feel like a home for a family, and now, there’s 2 storeys of it filled with nothing but warmth and love that all 4 of you share. He can’t wait to share it with more.

Eunjoo and Hayoon go to you once you call them, and they haven’t really outgrown sitting on both your laps during meals so they could hug you while they eat. 

It’s one of your favorite things as a parent, you think, as Hayoon wraps her arms around your neck after a mouthful of grilled fish and rice. She goes back to sitting on your lap to feed herself, and then lays her head on your chest. Eunjoo does something similar with Jungkook, and you both share a look as if to say that you both did this. 

All those times of having them sleep in between you and Jungkook and reading them stories and humming them lullabies; all those afternoons of laying on the grass while you all make out the shapes of the clouds; all those evenings of sitting on the couch at the porch, hugging each other under the light blanket - perhaps both your daughters keep all these moments as memories, too, and their affection is all the love they’re returning because of your love that they feel everyday. 

“Daddy, will you take us to Amma? I want to ask about our fur,” Eunjoo looks at him sweetly.

You stifle a laugh as Jungkook sighs. 

“Yes, angel. I’ll take you and your sister to her,” he says, hugging her back after she squeals. “And you can play with your cousins and the other kids there, too.”

It’s a Saturday, after all, and a lot of families go to the pack house and Amma’s residence to gather over food and conversations while the pups listen to stories and play around the garden by the pond. It’s like a daycare center there, and you’re glad there’s a place for your children to grow and learn about themselves where they’re safe and comfortable.

“I have a meeting with my brothers,” he turns to you. “Are you sure you don’t need my help at your parents’?”

“No need,” you assure him. “Mother just needs someone to carry around furniture and boxes since she wants a repaint. I can handle it.”

Jungkook nods and you both return to your meals, chuckling when the kids slurp their bowls dry and then finish a large piece of orange each. You decide to clean up in the kitchen while he gives them both a bath, and you all spend time choosing the girls’ outfits for today’s afternoon at the pack house. 

“Bye, mommy!” They both yell, kissing you sweetly before jumping into their father’s arms. “We’ll see you later!”

You kiss Jungkook and watch them get in the car, gushing at how attached your children are to both of you. 

You get back in the cabin and look around, checking every corner to see if there’s something you need to clean or put in order. After rearranging some things, you head out to the backyard and see the remaining slabs of wood that Jungkook didn’t use for the second floor. Those might be for your daughters’ chest and dresser, you think. Some of his tools are still outside, including the one ax that he accidently broke. 

You’re reminded again of all the work Jungkook did to continuously make this place a home for your family, and you don’t think you can ever thank him enough. You suppose that a good dinner of rabbit stew and some chicken spinach pies would be a good start. 

**

“Just a little more to the left,” your mother instructs you, and you do as she says before she releases another breath. “Good, you did it. You’re fine.”

“You do know I have superhuman strength now, right?” You laugh at her, knowing that she tends to still worry whenever you lift heavy things. “I can do all this and not break a sweat.”

“I know, my dear. I still need a lot of getting used to,” she smiles. “Both my daughters are incredibly strong beings and well, good on us for not needing to hire more people to fix the house.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll try to learn to paint for you,” you tease. “Jungkook could be your foreman or something.”

“Ah, I don’t want to add to his responsibilities anymore,” she hums. “He’s doing so much fixing your own place and being an amazing father to your 2 girls. He needs to spend the remaining time he has of not working and patrolling with you.”

“I know, but it’s not a big deal,” you assure her. “We spend time together as much as we can. And it’s been a tough few months for him, too; he’s just been needing care and reassurance more than anything. Being mates allows us to just know what the other needs, you know?”

“That’s good,” your mother smiles, cupping your cheek as she walks towards you. “And you’re good at that - giving care and reassurance.”

“Am I already?” You wonder out loud. 

You hate to think of a time when it wasn’t the case, and the thought of those months of ignoring Jungkook, shutting him out, and putting him in danger causes an ache in your heart. You’ve tried to make up for all those times but you don’t know if anything you do will also ever be enough. 

“Of course, my dear,” she nudges you, acting upset that you’d think otherwise. “He wouldn’t be looking as happy as he does whenever he talks about you if you weren’t. It makes my mornings.”

“And when does this happen?” You arch an eyebrow.

“During the days when he comes over some with meat after a hunt. About twice a week,” she informs you. “He has that glimmer in his eyes, you know? It makes me so thankful that you were fated to him. I just knew he’d love you so well, the kind that would let someone as hurt as you open up completely to him and love him just as much.”

The words are meant to be comforting, and you know your mother means well - she laid witness to you shutting out the entire world after all, and she’d been one of those to ask you to give Jungkook a chance. You just can’t help sometimes but think of how hurt he must’ve been feeling so unwelcomed, unwanted.

You’ll never know what that’s like; that’s the last thing Jungkook would ever make you feel. Even when he’s hurt and dealing with his own pains, he seeks for you. 

Like that time a townsman was attacked by a wild boar, leaving him in critical condition, and Jungkook blamed himself for failing to protect him. Or just recently when Mr. Roi, the owner of the workshop he works at, passed away due to an aneurysm and Jungkook was upset that he hadn't sensed it sooner. 

He was hard on himself both times but he let you hold him. He was upset and grieving but he let you comfort him. He let you share all that pain with him, and not once did you feel like he wanted to go through all that on his own. 

“You okay, sweetie?” Your mother’s voice cuts through your thoughts. 

“Yeah, just… thinking. You’re right,” you manage a smile. “Jungkook loves with all of him. The girls and I are so lucky.”

“Well, they’re lucky they have you, too,” she comforts, kissing your forehead. “So I was wondering… what do you think about redesigning your bedroom so it could accommodate your family? Perhaps getting rid of your desk and bookshelf to fit 2 double beds?”

“What for?”

“Well, your father and I were thinking that it would be nice to have you and your sister and your families here some weekends,” your mother says. “Your kids are growing so, so fast and we don’t want to blink and miss all that. And well, it gets lonely here sometimes. And with your grandfather gone…” she trails, her voice dropping low at the thought of how much she misses him. “It’s just… we want to spend time with all of you, all at once. Is that alright?”

“That sounds good,” you say. “The girls will outgrow the double bed but uh, maybe sometime in the future, we could build an extra room just off the living room? Or we could convert grandfather’s—”

“No,” she interjects. “I mean, not yet. I’m… I’m not yet ready to let him go like that.”

You mirror the sadness in her eyes, and though it broke you when your grandfather passed, you can’t imagine how it must’ve been for your mother who’s spent all her life with him. You understand wanting to keep people who have passed in spaces, in things. It lets us feel like they’re still here. 

“Okay,” you say. “We can redesign the rooms. I’ll ask Jungkook to help out one weekend.”

Your mother returns your smile and you both get back to work, emptying the living room so the painters could prepare it for tomorrow. 

It’s mid afternoon by the time you finish, and you say your goodbye to head home and start preparing for dinner. You work on your dough and filling for the pies, deciding that you’ll go for a hunt while they’re setting. 

You’ve never joined Jungkook on a hunt. Ever since your transformation, you’d only ever shifted to run into the mountains or when you feel like your family is in danger. Jungkook had always insisted it was his job to do that, and he knows this area more than anyone; hunting is his thing and there was never a need for you to do it. 

Not unless you want to surprise him, of course. 

Rabbit stew has become his favorite ever since you prepared it for him one night years ago, when you redid the Ceremony dinner at the cabin. That was the night you admitted what you felt for him, and you have a feeling that Jungkook ties that meaning to the dish. So every time you feel like showing him how you feel - however that is - you make him stew. 

There were no rabbits from yesterday’s hunt so you decide to look for them yourself. You shift into your wolf form and head out, trying to remember Jungkook’s hunting strategies that he’s shared with you. You look for fresh prints, sniff their scent, and let the animal in you dictate where to go. 

It doesn’t take long for you to sense movement from the meadows a few kilometers away. As you follow the sound, you know it’s what you’re looking for. There are 2 of them and their prints are heavy; they’re big, enough for your family of 4.

You run faster, not wanting them to wander farther. You sneak up on the pair and instantly catch one, alerting the other. You follow, scanning the field before you and knowing that you could easily outrun it, back it into a corner and then call this hunt a success.

The rabbit is fueled by adrenaline, running faster than you expected and heading towards a body of water that you know it hates. But you take this opportunity by outrunning it, growling as you go and then pouncing on it once it nears a boulder. 

You’ve got it, the wolf in you rejoices. You know once you shift back into human form, you won’t remember much of this; it’s your first time, anyway. It’s why Jungkook doesn’t let you hunt; once you do it regularly, it becomes a part of you, and killing prey is not something he wants you to get used to, much as it’s for survival. He’s there to do it, it’s in his nature unlike you, a human by birth. 

One thing you learned after your transformation is that you don’t retain much of your memory as a wolf when you’re in your human form. But when you’re in your wolf form, your memory as a human remains, balancing you. Amma has said once that it's what reminds you of who you are by nature, that having your human memories is one way to ensure that you don’t remain as a wolf. 

It’s why once your forelegs hit the water, you remember. 

The breeze that evening. The cold water. The sound of the river’s current. 

You remember the feel of the boulder against your soaked body. How hard it was. How it diluted the blood that was seeping out of your head.

The sun had set then, like now. There were wildflowers on the riverbed, like now. 

You’re growling, but back then, it wasn’t yourself that you heard - it was another wild animal, big and black and angry.

It was here, years ago, when that bear attacked you, when you were close to giving up, and when Jungkook saved you. He took you on his back and ran as fast as possible to take you to safety. He was frantic in the pack house as he demanded the doctors to save you. It was the same night when you broke his heart for the millionth time by saying that the cabin wasn’t your home, that he wasn’t your home. 

You haven’t been here since that night. You hate that it took away from the good memories you had here with Yoongi before, and being back here brings you back to that time when you almost gave up on yourself. When you almost gave up on Jungkook.

The human fear and sadness from that time alerts you that you have to leave, that you have to shift back. So you run as fast as you can and head back home, prey in hand, and tears in your eyes. 

**

Standing in your shower as you wash away the blood from your body, you feel betrayed. You aren’t supposed to remember much of what you saw but you remember it. You remember everything.

Perhaps it’s because those were your human memories and that’s why it’s as clear as day; being in that place as a wolf doesn’t mean you’ll forget what you experienced. 

Because you’re here now, unable to move, feeling an unnameable type of pain that’s familiar, and it hurts so bad. If it wasn’t for your timer going off to say that your pot is boiling, you’d be staying here for hours.

It felt so vivid. You didn’t think that being back there would make you recall how it was that night even if you didn’t remember much right after. It’s been years, after all, but as you caress your neck to feel the mark of your bond, you know why you feel empty yet heavy; you know why you feel like your heart is being ripped apart even as it beats rapidly. 

It may be your memory, but it’s Jungkook’s pain you’re feeling. 

The sight of you helpless. The thought of you giving up, of losing you for good. 

The thought of him withering away at the loss of you. 

The thought of never having this home, this family, this love. 

You exit the bathroom and see your bed, and you remember the nights you spent holding his hand because he’d been weak, because you’d selfishly taken all his energy, because you’d taken so much of him without giving anything in return. 

You remember the fear you felt of losing him, the guilt of hurting him, and the worry that you might never be able to make it up to him.

You feel Jungkook’s pain. And yours. All at once.

**

You’re surprised you manage to make a decent-tasting rabbit stew and not burn the pies given how absent-minded you’ve been since you got back from your hunt. You suppose it’s due to muscle memory; you’ve made these dishes so many times before. Just like as it’s reflex for you to turn to the door once to hear it unlock, even if you’re unable to fully process what’s happening. 

“Mommy!” Eunjoo and Hayoon greet in unison as they run to you for a hug. 

“Welcome back,” you coo, taking them into your arms and giving them a tight hug. If there’s anything to remind you that everything from earlier is a memory, it’s them - the manifestation of the love you share with your mate. “How was your afternoon?”

They yell over the other about things they did, but you pick up that they listened to some stories, planted flowers, and fed the fish in the pond. 

“I’m glad you both had a great time there,” you kiss their noses. “Did you give daddy a hard time?”

They look at each other before smiling and squealing, in unison, no. You cock an eyebrow at them before looking to your husband for the truth.

“They wanted to follow the ducks into the lake,” he playfully shakes his head. “They said they want to learn to float in the water or something.”

“Oh, my babies. You’ll learn to do more than that,” you smile, kissing them again before letting them jump on the couch and turning the TV on.

“Hey,” Jungkook kisses your lips now. He turns his head towards the pot and his eyes get bigger. “Rabbit stew? How… how did you get the meat?”

“I hunted,” you smile, letting it fade right after. 

“You, what? Hey, that’s my job,” he pouts.

“I know, but I wanted to surprise you with your favorite dish,” you reply. “It was a quick hunt. And it won’t happen again.”

He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to say more, but he just kisses your forehead and whispers his thanks when you don’t.

“Can you set up the table, please? I should be done soon.”

Jungkook does as you ask, and it’s not long after when the 4 of you are seated on the dining table, with Eunjoo and Hayoon taking turns narrating - with more details - what happened today. You’re amused, as you always are. They’re only 3 but they can do so much; they’re still babies in your eyes and perhaps they’ll always be. 

You nod and ask questions, but you think that Jungkook can sense something is wrong, as he takes your hand under the table and catches your eye when you look his way. You fake a smile to assure him, even if you know he can see right through you. 

“Mommy, I’m tired,” Eunjoo says after squealing about how cute ducks are. She lays her head on the table and Hayoon does the same, facing her. 

“I’m sure you both are,” Jungkook says, taking both girls in his arms. “Why don’t mommy and I get you 2 ready for bed, huh?”

“Okay!” They both speak at the same time.

“Leave these here first,” he tells you. “Let’s tuck them in, together.”

You nod and follow, with Jungkook leading the way to their bathroom. 

Your daughters imitate ducks as you bathe them in their tub, and you watch in awe as Jungkook plays along with them. He knows just what to do to get their attention, and you adore the way he takes care of them - making sure the water’s not too hot or cold, massaging their heads as he shampoos their hair, then wiping them dry once they decide another time that they’re both tired. 

Snug in their towels, he lays them on their beds. “Tell mommy how much you love her, okay?” He whispers in both their ears, although it’s something you hear. He turns to you and says he’ll start cleaning up downstairs and you nod in response.

It’s more quiet with you and your daughters now. You want to savor this time with them as you gaze at their eyes that are just like their father’s. Energetic as they are, they have his warm heart and his affection, too, as they hug you tightly and tell you that they love you very much, and it’s not just because their daddy told them so.

You wish them goodnight and head down the stairs, no longer surprised when you see that in a short amount of time, Jungkook’s managed to clean everything up. 

“I’m outside,” he calls out once he hears you’re back.

You walk out onto the porch, letting the cool wind embrace you. He’s sitting on the couch, looking out into the forest. He turns to you with a comforting smile. 

“Hey,” he says.

There’s so much warmth in his eyes. You often wonder how the fiercest wolf of the pack can have so much tenderness in his body. It’s in the way he speaks to you, looks at you, holds you. You don’t want to imagine a world where you don’t experience this; you hate to think that there was a moment where it could’ve been taken away from you, where all this could’ve been taken away from him.

You give in, knowing that at the end of the day, he’s all you need.

You sit yourself on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, your face finding refuge at the crook of it. You breathe against his skin but the tears sting your eyes. You let them fall anyway.

His large hands envelope you - one holds your hip against him, the other caresses your back. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks after a while.

“I was chasing the rabbits and I ended up at the river,” you finally say. “The one… the one where I fell, where there was, uh. Where you saved me.”

You turn to face him, tear-stained cheeks hurting him as he looks at you.

“And then I remembered,” you continue. “I remembered almost giving up. I remembered almost letting go.”

The words pierce through. Jungkook remembers it, too. He remembers your faint heartbeat and the way you’d slowly loosened your grip on that boulder. He remembers feeling like his world was ending, seeing you helpless and scared.

“I haven’t gone there since that day. And being there again just… I…”

You break into a sob before you can say more. It’s overwhelming to feel this much sadness, this much regret. It’s as if seeing where it all happened after you’d buried that memory made your life in the past few years flash before your eyes, as if all that’s good was being stripped away from you. 

And it almost felt like your heart was being torn into pieces. The way it tore Jungkook’s. Perhaps that’s what you felt - his heart at that moment, breaking. 

He wishes he was there with you so you didn’t have to go deep into the memory, that he could protect you from all that hurts you. He can, but not from this. 

“I wasn’t good to you, Jungkook,” you say this time, eyes glazed from all the tears. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey,” he exclaims. “We’re past that. There’s nothing to apologize for anymore.”

“It’s so heavy,” you sigh, breathless, as you clutch your chest. “It’s hard to breathe. I keep thinking of everything I put you through, of every time I pushed you away and kept you out, all the times that I made you feel unwanted, that I made you feel like I would never love you. I keep thinking that I… hurt you. So much. And I didn't… I didn’t stop.”

“Look at me,” he urges you, his own eyes glassy now at the sight of you carrying all this burden. “Feel this.”

Jungkook takes your hand to his chest. 

“My heart is beating, the way yours is. They’re connected. We’re alive and we’re safe and we’re home. We made it that way because we chose to try, because we chose to move past all that happened because we wanted this. We wanted to love each other. And I don’t doubt that love even for a second,” he says, desperate for you to listen to his words. “Whatever parts of me you hurt, you’ve healed them. Everyday that I come home to you and our children, I heal. You heal me. That’s all that matters.”

Jungkook always said he’s not good with words. But you disagree. Every time he speaks like this, he heals you just as much.

“I don’t ever want to live a life that isn’t with you,” you manage to say. “I don’t ever want to live a life where I’m not loved by you.”

“And you won’t ever know a life like that,” he assures you. “I’d save you in a heartbeat, ___. I’d save you a thousand times a day if I have to.”

**

It feels like hours that Jungkook holds you - on his lap while your head rests on his chest. You just want to feel his warmth, feel his heart, the one that’s connected in so many ways to yours.

“Let’s have a bath, okay?” He says.

You wrap your arms around his neck again. “Okay.”

This attachment tells Jungkook you don’t want to let go, so he stands up and carries you in his arms, walking both of you towards the bathroom. You remove yourself from him once he places you on the floor, and he tells you to wait for him as he fills up the tub.

He returns to you right after and kisses your forehead before undressing you, slowly removing your shirt and then your jeans. He helps you get rid of your undergarments, leaving you bare for him. 

Jungkook doesn’t take his eyes off you as he undresses himself, but he keeps them on your face, studying the sadness emanating from it. 

He’s bare in seconds, and he takes your hand and guides you towards the tub - the one he built, wooden and deep and spacious for both of you. 

“Come,” he whispers. 

You follow, sitting yourself between his legs and laying against his chest. 

You and Jungkook do this often. Though neither of you ever gets tired, your shared warm bath helps your bodies relax. It lets you feel close to each other, too, and it’s times like this when you feel what he’s said - that your hearts and your bodies are connected. 

He kisses you tenderly, starting from your temple to your cheeks, inching downward until he reaches your neck and then the mark that bears your oneness. 

There’s a certain kind of emotion that stirs within you whenever he does that, and you sigh in relief, because that’s what the act usually does - it assures you, comforts you, unburdens you to some extent and lets you breathe. 

You sigh, closing your eyes. You’re starting to feel lighter with just this. 

“You held onto me, you know?” He speaks after a while. “During those times, you made me feel like you still needed me in your own ways. Even if it was just my warmth, you’d move closer, and anytime I could see that you liked what I could give, it made it all worth it. And then you called for me that night. I… I knew then that you needed me and I wasn’t ever gonna let you go.”

You turn to him with questioning eyes. 

“That night? After the attack?” You ask. 

Things were hazy for you but you know nothing about calling for him. You turned him away after all, and said he wasn’t home.

“You did,” Jungkook hums, recalling the car ride home and taking you to your room. “We were back at your parents’ house and I was… well, I was a mess. It was hard seeing you in pain and I just cried. I kept crying, actually.” He chuckles, trying to make light of it. “You were asleep but you were tossing and turning. A bad dream, I think. So I just held your hand and then you called my name. It was a whisper but I heard it. Whatever the reason, I just felt like somewhere deep down, you needed me.”

“Maybe I did,” you nod, smiling despite the tears in your eyes. “‘Maybe I didn’t know it then but my heart did. My heart knew it needed you.”

“It’s a good way of looking at it, right?” He smiles back.

“It is. But it doesn’t mean I’m any less sorry,” you pout now. 

“I know, and I wish I can change your mind.”

Jungkook has a forgiving heart. You’ve always known it. He told you once that he lacks the strength that you have but you know it takes courage to forgive. And he forgives you every time. He does it without fail. 

You think about this as you both finish your bath. You gaze at him and watch his every forgiving and loving movement as he wipes you dry and leads you back to the bedroom. Wanting to feel him bare against you, you trace his face as you hover over him, having slid in between his legs again so you can look at him fully. 

He’s a lot softer now. You remember you used to see tenderness only in his eyes. His face was always so hard, so strained. You’d find out later on just how much he was holding back on a lot of things. But  now, he melts into your touch and it says of how much that’s changed. 

You wonder if you’ll ever stop thinking about it - how much you hurt him, how close you were to not having him. Everything he is now may be because of you, but a lot of who he was back then was because of you, too.

You lay on top of him, your chest flushed against his. You listen to his heartbeat while his fingers trace patterns on your back. It’s soothing more than anything, and it’s what prompts you to ask.

“Do you think it’ll ever go away?” You wonder out loud. “The guilt of what I’ve done?”

You push yourself up to look at him, curious if he’d fallen asleep because of his silence. 

“I wish it would,” he finally says. “I can’t… I can’t lose you to your thoughts.”

Not again, he doesn’t say. 

You feel things. Too much sometimes. Guilt is not an exception. And he worries that if you keep that with you, it might be what would pull you both apart.

But you know what he means without him saying it. You lived in your mind and in your pain all those months, and he lost you to them before he could even have you. And this… this might not be any different.

What is guilt but chains, you think. Guilt isn’t love. It doesn’t make the other person feel loved. Maybe it’s what would drive them away. 

“We should be enough, don’t you think? Me, this home, our girls?” Jungkook asks, almost desperately. “Love got you this, not guilt.”

“I’m scared that the more I think of how much you love me, I’ll think of how you’d done that so selflessly. And that’s why the guilt creeps in, like it did today,” you try to explain. “Because you had to lose so much of yourself for me to see how much I needed you. And you still had so much to give.”

“I’ll always have a lot to give. Because I take from you,” he says, caressing your mark. “That’s what’s so beautiful about this - we give to each other and we take from each other. And we’ll never run out. And so that guilt? I’ll take it from you, I’ll share it with you. Maybe that’s how it goes away.”

“I don’t want to feel it anymore. Because I don’t want you to feel it,” you pout. 

Maybe that’s how it goes away, you think. 

“Then we won’t feel it,” he chuckles softly. “But know that whatever it is that’s inside you, it’s mine, too. You’re my mate, ___. I’m here because of you.”

You nod vigorously as tears slide down your cheeks again. “Okay. We’ll share it all. We’ll share everything.”

There’s clarity in your eyes. There’s acceptance. There’s understanding and remembrance of the promise you made to the Moon and to each other. And as you look back at him, he feels you slowly give all that guilt up so he can take pieces of it from you.

You kiss his lips once, and then another time. The next is long and deep, and the way you pull the tips of his hair and push against him tells him what you need.

He needs it, too, so he helps you mount him, your hands now on his shoulders as your lips glide against his hard cock. His hands on your waist guide you as you move until you give him that look that lets him know where you want him this time. 

Jungkook lets you slide down on him, his tip hitting your edges right away and this is how you want it tonight - you want to feel it all. You want to take control at the beginning and give it all to him. You want to look into his eyes as you move up and down on his shaft while moaning his name. 

He matches your movements, pushing upwards just as hard so he could feel every inch of you, too. He sits up and you come the first time when he swallows your breast, his tongue swirling around your pert nipple. He lets you come down from your high as he wraps his arms around your waist, his head against your chest while it heaves to let him know how good he made you feel. 

There are no other words said. You both know what the act of mating does and with how heavy it’d been, doing this all night is what you both need to once more feel that oneness, to feel that sharing of pain and hurt, to give and take each other’s strength. 

Because behind the pleasure is that trust, that undeniable connection. It’s the love that courses through your veins and that you hear in each other’s beating hearts; it’s the loss of breath and moans of your names, the glassy eyes and trembling lips as you let each other know just how healing this love is because it’s meant to. 

Because that’s what it means when you’re fated with someone - you feel their pain and their joy like it’s yours. You trust that at your most vulnerable, they’ll hold you like you’ll break but they won’t treat you like you’re fragile. And they’ll kiss all the broken parts of you and love you hard until you’re whole.

“Sleep,” he tells you after you come for the fourth time, caressing your cheek and kissing your lips. “It’ll all be better in the morning.”

**

The sun is high, almost blinding. Your book isn’t big enough to block its shine but it still works. The wind is cool and the day is too nice for it to not be spent outside.

And it’s where you are - at the meadow where you’d fallen asleep before the incident by the river. Jungkook thought it would be nice to bring the girls somewhere new where they could ride their new bicycles after having just learned, and you were the one who suggested this place. 

He was unsure - you’d cried about the painful memories of that night and its aftermath just last week - but he gave in after you said that you’re feeling better, and that maybe the guilt can completely go away if you replace the bad memories with good ones. Eunjoo and Hayoon were running around and picking flowers earlier, and their squeals and sounds of wonder have been all worth it. 

Jungkook’s smile is worth it, too. Laid on his lap, you lower your book to get a peek of your mate, and the look of pure joy he has on is indescribable. The sparkle in his eyes whenever he watches your daughters is something you hold dear in your heart; you’re glad it’s the one image you can’t ever get out of your head.

“Careful, you two!” He calls out after Eunjoo falls to the side. 

She quickly stands up and waves at both of you. “I’m okay, daddy! I’m strong!”

“You’re still a child, though,” he answers back.

“But I’m a strong child! See? No booboos!” She counters, earning you and Jungkook a laugh.

“Look at them go,” you say, humming when he combs your hair with his fingers. “They were latching on to me not long ago and now, they’ll bike and run around for as long as they can.”

“Our kind really grows too fast,” he chuckles. “They’ll probably be jumping over rocks and running up mountains in no time.”

“I wish time would stop,” you sigh. “Just so we can savor these moments with them. And just so we won’t have our babies no longer needing us so soon.”

“Well, time won’t stop but you do know that we have a lot of time,” he says. “You know what that means.”

“Uh, I’m not sure I do?” You sit up and face his smirking form.

“We can always have more pups,” he shrugs, the statement so casual as if it’s that easy to just decide on having more children. “The girls are grown. We can handle things. I… I’d like to think we love each other even more now. What do you think?”

The thought of it excites you. Sure, there are so many things to consider. But you’d like to think that with all that’s happened in the past years, and especially last week, there’s so much more for you to give. 

You look at Jungkook and the way his eyes shine and his smile softens when he talks about your daughters. There was a time when all he had was an empty cabin and himself - none of your nightly family cuddles on the porch, none of the snowball fights during winter, none of the laughter and giggles and homemade pies and handmade wooden toys that you all bond over. 

Home has become more than a structure for Jungkook, it’s now more than a dream - it’s people he loves and he’ll continue to love. And you know you want to give that to him. You want to give him that joy of being able to create a bigger home with more children he’ll care for, because you know that there’s so much space for his incredible heart for that.

“Okay,” you smile. “I’d love to have more children with you, Kook.”

He can’t contain his smile, and all he can do is hug you tightly and let you feel through this how much it means to him. You hug him back and kiss his cheek, and he can tell that you want this, too.

“Family hug!” Hayoon squeals once she turns towards your direction, and it’s not long after when both girls are running towards you, squeezing themselves in between the spaces and hugging you and Jungkook.

Their giggles are music to your ears, and the image of more of them doing this with you makes your heart jump. Your home will be bigger, and you can’t wait for that, too.

##

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[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

I have more thoughts about Chalice of the Gods

When I was getting through the first hundred pages or so I was a little :/ prob because I’m getting back into the books over a decade later and I had Expectations that I didn’t have as a kid. You could have thrown anything at me and I would have been DELIGHTED just to hear more of Percy’s story. I think the nostalgia factor was actually kind of a negative for me because I kept getting mad at the modern references and how low the stakes seemed to be. I did see a post about how it was good that Rick kept the books at whatever time he wrote them (in terms of references) because it’s literally just like the olympians growing and modernizing. You can’t stay stuck in the past. And I think keeping that perspective in mind will make rereads a lot more fun.

The low stakes seemed to bother me just because we’re so used to seeing Percy in horrible world ending situations and we just got out of HOO. But he really did deserve a break and it was helpful with developing his characterization

I didn’t expect the books to make me feel so emotional! I’ve been out of the horrifying college admissions process for a while now. But the questions he was wrestling with were very universal. At this point he’s accepted that the gods are what they are. There’s not much he can do to change them. He has to focus on himself and his future. And I am a little disappointed that his goals all seem to be around Annabeth. Like I love them but also he’s going to new Rome JUST for her it seems. But also when I was in high school I decided to go to college because that’s what Everyone Does right. I didn’t know trade school was an option. Feeling a little bit like ur life is on a set path and your choices are controlled by other people a bit was at least part of my high school experience. But also from a story perspective it does make sense that he wants to stick with Annabeth! They’ve been through a ridiculous amount together.

Sally having a kid and the emotions that it brought up was also a good way to show that transitional period between leaving home and starting a new life. Your parents are going to move on and do their own thing and their lives won’t revolve around you anymore. Also in general the whole Paul/sally/percy/annabeth dynamic was fucking amazing. The way Paul and sally accepted Annabeth into their lives and how happy they all are is what she fucking deserves!!

I think the end is what really got me. Some of it felt really silly and I did absolutely roll my eyes when Percy told the god he loved him and hugged him. But also him ACCEPTING that he would likely get old was so cathartic. This is a boy who was supposed to die at 16. And barely escaped death again after having his memories wiped and falling into fucking Tartarus. Hes never gotten a break and hes said, in multiple books, that he expects to die very young. This is the first time he says ‘wait I might survive this. I might get old and if I do it’ll be by Annabeth and Grover’s side.’ Percy fucking Jackson who has been the subject of COUNTLESS prophecies, who is reminded time and time again that he isn’t supposed to exist, even by people that he loves, (that was a lil mean of u in the intro Poseidon) CHOOSES to accept that he might get old. Like of course this boy doesn’t have much of a plan for his life yet other than ?? Follow Annabeth?? When has he gotten a chance to think about it!

This is something I did project upon a bit because I didn’t except to live to 18! Or 20! Or 22! And it’s only now at 24 that I’m starting to Accept that I might be here a little longer than I expected and now I have to Plan Accordingly. Like I have to learn these stupid life skills and figure out what I Want from my life now. And unlike Percy, I’m a little angry about it lol because I never expected to have this problem!! But, I too, am slowly accepting that time on earth is a gift or whatever. At the very least I’m stuck here for the foreseeable future so I might as well use it to learn who I am. I GUESS. In my life, Death has always been this ever-present choice I could take if things got a little too tough and I don’t know if that door will ever fully close but I have been dragged away from it kicking and screaming so. Might as well stick around. I’m still a little bitter about it honestly but I’ll get over it. I have to learn how to COOK guys. How fucked up is that. To care about the mundane all of a sudden??

Anyways. I doubt that’s the metaphor Rick was going for, it was probably more of a ‘your childhood ends! You’re gonna get older and that’s a good thing’ instead of a ‘one day you might not have killed yourself and you’ll realize that you’re actually stuck living this life and you gotta learn to fucking deal with it.’

Ok I could go on for hours so this is the last thing. Percy’s conversation with Poseidon, about how small waves are the ones that matter the most, REALLY resonated with me. Like I think I teared up at two parts of this book, the old age part and the conversation with between them at the end. It’s really easy to convince yourself that the way you alter your life is through Sweeping All-Consuming Change where you move to a different continent and begin anew. Unfortunately, through bitter experience, I’ve learned that’s not how things fucking work. Changing your surroundings does lead to new experiences but it doesn’t make ur problems go away! I moved halfway across the state and got what I genuinely believe is the best job on earth and I. Still have the same issues?? And then I thought ok maybe I was wrong this Wasn’t the best job I just need to find one that’s Better but that’s. Not how things work.

This is getting away from me but basically what I’m trying to say is u can make grand changes and it might fix u for a little while but unfortunately you have to put in the work and do the stupid boring mundane things like go on walks and journal and exercise and do things that scare the fuck out of u to actually change and grow and it’s so goddamn annoying. I should be able to become a different person just by being somewhere else but I can’t.

Wait I’m supposed to be relating this to Percy Jackson. So Percy can go on these life altering world defining quests right. And make all the right choices. But who he is at his core is defined by the choices that he makes when the stakes aren’t that high. When it would be So Easy to walk away from Ganymede and go live his life. And I know some people didn’t like that Poseidon was like ‘this is when I knew you were a hero’ of fucking COURSE he knows Percy has been this hero his whole life. But he’s also this person when there isn’t some prophecy, when he doesn’t have to be, when it’s just a mild inconvenience. It’s easy to talk about changing the world. It’s harder to go out there and take those little baby steps that don’t feel like they matter all that much. He has actually changed the world and just not talked about it but hopefully u get what I’m saying. I just liked that thing about small waves being able to sweep you off your feet when you didn’t expect it ok!! Most change is incremental!!

Ok that’s it. Loved Chalice, will probably enjoy it more on a reread and it resonated with me in ways I didn’t expect.

[thxtmarvelchick]

✨BOOK RECOMMENDATIONS ORGANIZED BY GENRE (and tropes listed)✨

i will do the cut thing because this is going to be long…

THIS WILL BE CONTINUOUSLY ADDED ONTO AS I READ MORE BOOKS THAT FIND THEMSELVES IN MY FAVOURITES

Fantasy/Sci-fi (because I feel like they go hand in hand)

•A Court Of Thorns And Roses (the entire series) by Sarah J Mass

I can genuinely say that this series had such a massive impact on my life and it will always be in my top recs. The writing is SO beautiful and the world- building is IMPECCABLE you can vividly picture everything and it just completely transports you to this magical world.

Tropes: fae (ik this isn’t a trope i just had to say it), a little enemies to lovers, a little friends to lovers, royalty, FATED MATES (my personal favourite), forced proximity, they dream of each other, she owes him a debt, slow burn, found family

spice is included✨ and honestly pretty fricking spicy (spiciest on this list probably)

•Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros

Another book that like altered my brain chemistry because it was so good. The main character has a chronic illness (that is the same chronic illness the author has). It’s such a comfort book to me and i really wish i could read it for the first time again because there’s twists and the ending had me SHELLSHOCKED and i do not get shocked easily because most of the time i can tell it’s coming but i genuinely had NO IDEA that is how good Rebecca Yarros�� writing is.

Tropes: enemies to lovers (but they’re attracted to each other from the very start), kind of forbidden love (parents were enemies), they’re bonded to each other so kind of fated mates?, THEY’RE AT A COLLEGE TO BECOME DRAGON RIDERS THAT’S LITERALLY SO COOL, oh did i mention DRAGONS THAT TALK AND ARE SASSY LITTLE SHITS, also kind of found family bc the MC’s is dysfunctional as hell

also spice is included✨ i’d rate it maybe a 3/5?, it’s not SUPER detailed and there’s not a lot but there’s one scene where my jaw was dropped the entire time

•One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston

This is a comfort read FOR SURE. I felt so seen because the MC is just like me (socially awkward, book lover, nerd) and she has a huge crush on this other girl ( YES IT’S LGBTQ!!) who is totally like 70s rockstar vibes (she’s literally so cool i cannot). It’s a book that’ll have you squealing and kicking your feet. Oh did i mention the love interest is ACTUALLY a 70s pink chick who’s accidentally time travelled forward after an accident she had on the subway?

tropes: this is pure fluff guys like seriously you can’t not love it, kind of coming of age (she’s 23 and finding her confidence and place in the world) , the love interest doesn’t remember how she got there (so amnesia), found family (just now noticing a theme with all my recs so far..)

there’s spice mentioned but not actual spicy scenes!

Romance

•Bridgerton series

This series is a staple however due to you not having to read all the books/ the books in order there are a few that i don’t think i’ll reread (i haven’t even read Francesca’s yet) like for instance i didn’t like Benedict’s book because of the Cinderella retelling aspect and I ended up dnfing

BUT the rest are REALLY good, my favourites being Colin/Penelope’s (Romancing Mister Bridgerton) and Hyacinth’s (It’s In His Kiss)

Tropes: (just doing the main one for each book)

Book #1 (Daphne)- fake relationship

Book #2 (Anthony)- enemies to lovers

Book #3 (Benedict)- fairytale retelling (cinderella), she was a lady’s maid for one of his sisters (i think… it’s been awhile)

Book #4 (Colin/Penelope)- friends to lovers, she’s a socially awkward wallflower and i relate immensely (there’s twists and overall is just a beautiful love story)

Book #5 (Eloise)- they’re pen pals and she runs away to his home (he has children that are an absolute MENACE to her it’s hilarious)

Book #6 (Francesca)- haven’t read yet but i know that the main premise is her late husband (who died not long after she married him) ‘s cousin has always loved her since he met her

Book #7 (Hyacinth)- mystery, they’re trying to find his family’s hidden jewels (their dynamic is amazing and hyacinth is my favourite bridgerton she’s so funny to me)

Book #8 (Gregory)- they’re friends and they realize they’re in love with each other as they’re about to marry other people (he crashes her wedding it’s fantastic)

[alchemistc]

For the Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game:

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?  🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings 🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?

A combination of location and a two income household.

We lived far enough out in the boonies (at the time, it's fully developed now just like everywhere else in this state) that I didn't really have easy access to my friends and there wasn't a bus within walking distance and both my parents were out of the house all day, so my summers were spent primarily either reading (and rereading and rereading) Harry Potter and whatever creepy ass books I'd gotten from the library that week (I was reading Koontz at eleven, it definitely didn't do anything weird to my psyche) or screwing around on the family computer. It took me like a week of spiraling down Book Four theory discussions to discover fanfiction, and it was pretty much over for me from that point on.

I'd always enjoyed writing myself little stories (notebook propped up on a trashcan in the bathroom while the bathwater got cold, I still miss those days) but fanfiction was like, this endless, limitless outlet for all my preteen rage, all the hurt and joy and angst and drama and loneliness.

I didn't publish anything I wrote until after Pirates of the Caribbean came out, when I found myself fully entrenched in Elizabeth/Jack (I vaguely remember something about us calling the ship Waffles? What was that about?) on Livejournal.

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

Stiles Stilinski absolutely figured out how to break into Superhell to rescue Derek Hale from his own stupidity.

"You let your teenage son watch you burn up in hellfire? Idiot."

"I thought I was finally done with you."

"Hurry up, I left the Jeep as collateral with crazy redhead who I think runs hell now? I never thought it'd work but she says it's got emotional significance. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

This is definitely more like 100 but oh well.

He looks good like this, though. Hair a little too long, curling over his ears. Pink lips and grandpa’s Saturday brunch patterned polo stretched tight across his shoulders, the purple smudges around his eyes a little less pronounced with his enthusiasm for the day taking priority over the bone deep exhaustion that’s captured them both in it’s clutches. Amelia strapped to his chest, her tiny little head tipped sideways, her ear pressed to the beat of his heart, eyes closed and thankfully, blissfully asleep for the moment. Tommy wants to fold them both up and bury them under his ribcage. Evan grins at the no doubt greedy look in Tommy’s eyes, and tips his head to the line of women on the bench across the way. “You peacocking for their benefit or mine?” “Can’t it be both?”

[spiderking-of-queens]

Chapter Twenty-Three: Just Friends

Summary: You and Eddie go on a “definitely not a date” date and learn a little bit more about each other, including how you both actually feel for one another. (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, 13k words)

Warnings: Language, mentions of abuse and violence, eating (Eddie puts peanut butter on his burger bc he’s weird), reader loves Stevie Nicks? This is just pure flirtation, gentle Eddie fluff, and some more angst at the end of course sorry I love drama lol.

A/N: This one’s a DOOZY lol sorry I did not mean for this to be so long. Got a little carried away! Also, once again, I have an album for you! Look up the lyrics to Leather and Lace and think about Eddie or The Highwayman and think about Steve if you wanna cry 🙃

Tags: @princesseddie​  @dessxoxsworld​  @blackbirddaredevil23​

Series Masterlist

September 20th, 1985

As soon as you got home from your little adventure at the Hideout the week prior, your parents were waiting up for you, ready to scream at you for being out so late. As long as you were still stuck under their roof, you would still have to live by their rules. Their cold-shoulder silent treatment from your decision not to go to college was officially over. You had reawakened the sleeping dragon. Now the little freedom you had gained from their passive-aggressive distance was gone, and there was no way they would let you anywhere near their car again. But that Friday night you had made a promise to see Eddie again and return his jacket to him, and you at least owed him that after the mess you made the week before. So you decided to rebel one last time, and drove to the school to meet him after Hellfire.

You would have joined in, but you felt like you owed him some space, too. So you sat on the floor in the hallway instead and read your book to try to slow your thoughts as you prepared to face him. 

Eventually, you heard chatter and laughter as the door opened. You looked up as the boys filed out of the room. Eddie was teasing Dustin, pushing his baseball cap over his eyes. Then he saw you, and his smile dropped. 

“Hey, Y/N. I didn’t think you were gonna show up,” Dustin said. “Are you good to drive us home?”

“Yeah. Sorry, just felt like reading today,” You replied, holding up your book. It was kind of true, just not the whole truth. 

“The Hobbit,” Eddie mumbled. “Is this your first time reading it?”

“Oh, no. I’ve read it a billion times, I just… like to reread it when I need a good escape.”

He nodded solemnly and you lowered your eyes in embarrassment. The other boys looked at each other, clearly uncomfortable from the obvious tension in the air. 

“Okay… well, we’ll be in the car, then…” Lucas grumbled and started to walk away. When Dustin and Mike didn’t get the hint, he walked back towards them and pulled them away by the collar of their shirts. Gareth, Jeff, and Freak mumbled their goodbyes to Eddie and awkwardly shuffled away as well. 

The two of you stared at each other in uncomfortable silence before you cleared your throat and stood up from the floor, tugging on your shirt anxiously. Then you remembered his jacket. You bent down to pick it up off of the floor and brushed it off, feeling bad that it looked like you weren’t taking proper care of it.

“I, uh, brought you your jacket,” You said wiping it once more for good measure. “Sorry.”

He chuckled.

“No problem. Thanks for bringing it back.”

He put it on and melodramatically fluffed his hair out.

“How’s it look?”

“Great. As always.”

You smiled shyly at each other, then both tried to speak at the same time.

“You go ahead,” You offered.

“I just wanted to say, I’m really sorry about last weekend,” He said earnestly. You couldn’t stop yourself from snorting at him.

“You’re sorry? I’m sorry! I was such a mess. I can’t believe I got drunk. And puked. Oh god, I’m so humiliated. I completely ruined your night.”

You covered your face with your book in shame as the events of the night came back to you. Eddie took a step forward and pushed it down so he could look at you. 

“It’s really okay. You didn’t. I’ve just been worried about you, that’s all.”

“That’s really sweet, but despite the embarrassment, I’m fine. I promise.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He could definitely tell that you were lying, but he didn’t press you. 

“Okay. Well… I’ll see you next week then?”

“About that…” You winced, clenching your teeth. “My parents weren’t exactly thrilled that I left their car at a bar all night. I don’t think I’m gonna be able to drive the boys anymore. Or… anywhere, ever again, for that matter. I had to sneak out just to drive here tonight. So… no more Hellfire. At least for a while, until I can get them to forget that I exist again.” 

His shoulders slumped, and he looked down at his hands to play with his rings. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about that.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. It’s my fault. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“But… you wouldn’t have even been there if it wasn’t for me.”

“Yeah, maybe, but I wanted to go. And I chose to get drunk. Listen, even though I was a complete disaster, I still would have chosen to go - exactly as it played out - over staying home. It was fun watching you guys play. I’m glad I went. Really.”

“I’m glad you went, too. I wish it would have gone better.”

“Me too,” You sighed.

You stared at each other for a moment before you took a step away from him towards the school’s exit.

“Okay. Well… I guess I’ll see you around?” You said tentatively. 

“Sure. See you around.”

You nodded, giving him a sad smile before you walked away. You made it halfway to the door before he called your name, making you spin back around.

“Yeah?” 

He hesitated, punching the palm of his other hand anxiously before he walked towards you, avoiding your gaze.

“Alright, fuck it,” He eventually said with a nervous laugh, forcing himself to look at you. “Lemme just ask you before I lose my nerve again. What are you doing tonight?”

Your eyes widened at him and you looked around like you were being pranked, then you turned your head back to him. His gaze was unwavering. 

“Nothing?”

“Good. I mean… okay. Would you wanna… can I take you out to get something to eat? Just to hang out. Nothing weird, I swear. Just a redo.”

You stared at him, stunned. Was this actually happening? He still wanted to spend time with you, even after everything that went down the week before?

He raised his eyebrows and cocked his head when you stayed silent for a little too long. 

“Again, you can always tell me to fuck off at any time,” He said with a small laugh and smile that immediately disappeared when he realized there was a chance you might actually take him up on that. But you didn’t. 

“Okay,” You said simply instead, unable to fight off a little smirk. He grinned back at you. 

“Cool.” 

“Cool,” You agreed.

He nodded, then stopped suddenly, his smile fading once again. 

“Sorry, that was a solid yes, right? Just wanna make sure I’m not an asshole who can’t take a hint.”

You grinned at him. 

“Yes. It was a yes.”

“Good.”

He inched ever so slightly closer to you and you felt a sudden pang of panic. Was this a date? You took a step back, brushing your hair behind your ear anxiously. 

“Wait, we are just hanging out, right? As… friends?” 

He snorted, subtly leaning away from you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Uh, of course. Yeah. Absolutely. That is what I said. Right.” 

He was trying a little too hard to prove to you that this was obvious information.

“Okay…” You paused, narrowing your eyes at him skeptically, then relaxed when he didn’t budge. “I’m paying, by the way. I owe you for last week.”

“You know I’m not gonna let you do that, right?”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“We’ll see about that. So, would you mind picking me up at my place? I can write down the address for you.”

“Of course. No problem."

You rummaged in your bag for a marker, then when you found one and pulled it out, Eddie stuck out his hand before you could rip a piece of paper out of your sketchbook. You eyed him quizzically, and he laughed when he recognized your confusion.

“Just write it on my hand. I won’t lose it that way.”

You raised an eyebrow, but didn’t fight him on it. You bit the marker cap off and held it between your teeth, then took his hand and wrote your address on the back of it. When you dropped it and returned the marker to your bag, he brought his hand up to his face so he could read it. His eyes widened.

“Shit. Nice neighborhood.”

“Yeah… For all intents and purposes, I suppose it is,” You snorted.

“Might get a few disgruntled neighbors. My van can be kinda loud.”

“Good. There’s quite a few people I wouldn’t mind pissing off.”

You hated every single person that lived on your street. It was mostly stuck-up old couples that pretended to be nice to your face but complained about the stupidest little things, or families like yours that hated each other behind closed doors. Families just like the Hagans, and the Perkinses, and the Harringtons. 

You were teasing, but Eddie actually seemed kind of nervous about it. 

“It’ll be fine,” You reassured him. “I won’t make you wait. I promise. But if you’re really worried, I can totally meet you somewhere. I wouldn’t mind.”

“No, no. It’s cool. I’m not worried if you’re not.”

“Alright. Thanks. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. So… I’ll pick you up in an hour? Or is that too soon?”

“No, that’s perfect. The sooner the better.”

He smirked at you, and you scratched your eyebrow with uneasiness, letting out an anxious chuckle. That sounded a little too eager. 

“I meant, because I probably shouldn’t stay out super late after last weekend,” You added, trying to take him down a peg. 

“Right. That’s what I thought you meant,” He nodded, but that stupid smirk was still on his face, making you blush. 

“Alright, Munson,” You teased, stepping away from him. “I know you’re always fashionably late, but try your best not to keep me waiting.”

“I won’t. Promise,” He called after you, waving the hand you had written your address on. 

“And don’t wash that off!” You added with a giggle, opening the door with your back before turning to walk off to your car.

You tried your best not to wait too eagerly after you got home and changed your clothes, but you couldn’t help pacing around your room, checking your watch. On top of being nervous as hell, you were slightly concerned that your parents would have something to say about a noisy van parked in front of their house. You had a plan to get them off of your back, and you wanted to be ready to go as soon as he pulled up, just as you had promised. 

Then at ten on the dot, you heard the sound of Eddie’s van’s engine coming down the road. You were pleasantly surprised that he actually was on time. 

You immediately put your plan into motion, opening your window and climbing down carefully onto your porch awning, sliding smoothly to the ground. Then you ran over to Eddie’s van and hopped in, trying to hide the fact that you were out of breath.

“Hi,” You said as you panted. He just stared at you.

“Uh… what was that?” He asked with a chuckle. 

“What?” 

“The acrobatics?”

“Oh. Uh… I thought I’d try something new. My parents can’t get pissed at me if they don’t notice I’m gone, right?”

“Mhm. Right,” He said with a smirk, and pulled away from the curb. He kept looking you up and down out of the corner of his eyes. You clicked your tongue at him.

“What?” You asked again more impatiently.

“You changed,” He pointed out with a smirk, nodding at your fresh top.

“Yeah… so?” You mumbled, looking down at it. “I was in my work shirt when I saw you at the school.”

“Okay. Just saying. It’s a pretty nice top to wear for hanging out with a friend.”

“Well… I didn’t know where you were planning on taking me. Figured I’d dress to be ready for anything.”

“It won’t be anywhere fancy,” He snorted. “Hope that’s okay.”

“Where are we going?”

He squirmed in his seat nervously, leaning forward over the steering wheel.

“Okay, so I have this place in mind, but it’s outside of town a little bit. Is that okay? I kinda want it to be a surprise, but I just don’t want you to think that I’m, like, about to drive you out into a field to murder you or something.”

“Well… I wasn’t thinking that before. But now I’m slightly concerned.”

“I promise I will not murder you,” He laughed. “I sort of like you too much.”

“That’s… good to hear? I guess?”

He paused to look at you before turning back to the road. 

“That’s where you’re supposed to say that you like me, too. You know, or whatever.” “Okay… Eddie, I like you too much to murder you, too.”

“Aw,” He cooed, putting a hand on his heart. “You’re sweet.”

Eventually, he pulled off of the road several miles outside of Hawkins into the parking lot of a retro diner. 

“Is this the place?” You asked him with a grin.

“Yep. This is it. What do you think?”

“I think… I’m dying for a strawberry milkshake right about now.”

“Then let’s get you a strawberry milkshake,” He said with a nod, unbuckling his seatbelt. You followed suit, and before you could get out of his van, Eddie had already raced around to extend a hand to help you out. You raised an eyebrow at him but took it anyways as you hopped down. He shrugged, picking up on what you were thinking.

“I’m always chivalrous. Doesn’t mean anything,” He argued, dropping your hand.

“Mhm. Right.”

If he could tease you about changing before seeing him, you could tease him about getting the door for you. It was fun pushing each other’s buttons like this, flirting innocently. When you got to the front door of the diner, you made it a point to hold it open for him, which amused him immensely. 

As soon as he walked in, an older woman smiled at him from behind the front counter. 

“Well if it isn’t little Eddie Munson,” She called, stopping him in his tracks. You froze beside him and looked between the two of them in confusion. 

“Hey, Deb. How have you been?” He asked her. 

“Same ol’, same ol'. How are you? How’s Wayne? Still at the plant?”

“Yes ma’am, he is. We’re both great, thanks.”

“Glad to hear it. Your usual booth is open if you wanna make your way over, I’ll be there in just a second.”

Eddie nodded and instinctively put his hand over the small of your back to guide you towards the back of the diner, but corrected himself quickly by shoving it into his jeans pocket instead. When you both slid into your seats across from each other, Deb met you over by the table and smiled down at you before glancing back at Eddie.

“Well, who’s this? It’s a pleasure to meet you,” She said kindly, and reached out her hand to shake yours. “How do you know our Eddie?”

“I’m Y/N,” You answered shyly as you shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, too. I, uh… went to school with him.”

You fought back the urge to ask her how the hell she knew Eddie. 

“Well, any friend of his is a friend of mine,” She said, patting his shoulder before turning back to you. “So, what can I get you?”

“Could I please get a hamburger and fries…”

“And a strawberry milkshake,” Eddie interrupted with a smirk.

“Yes, thank you, Eddie. And a strawberry milkshake, please.”

“Of course,” Deb said, writing on her notepad. Then she looked up and pointed her pen at Eddie. “The usual for you, dear?”

He tilted his head at her with a wide smile.

“You know me so well, Deb.”

“Well, I suppose I should after all these years of you ordering the same thing,” She teased him, smacking him gently on the shoulder with her notepad. Of course, Eddie couldn’t resist melodramatically pretending that it had wounded him. “I’ll be right back with your food. You kids have fun."

“Thank you,” Eddie turned to call after her, and then smiled back at you.

“Come here often?” You asked him with a smirk. 

“Yeah,” He chuckled bashfully. “My uncle’s been bringing me here ever since I moved in with him as a kid, and Deb’s worked here for forever.”

“And what’s this mysterious order you’ve been getting for the past, what, ten years?”

“A Dr. Pepper and a hamburger, well-done. Extra pickles. With a side of… peanut butter.”

“I’m sorry… did you say peanut butter? For what?”

His eyebrows raised so high in surprise that they disappeared behind his bangs.

“You don’t know about peanut butter burgers?”

“Peanut butter what?”

“Peanut butter on hamburgers. It’s amazing.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” You grimaced.

“I’ve never been more serious in my life. You’ve heard of peanut butter and pickles, right? It’s pretty much the same thing. It’s an acquired taste.”

“I’m not sure if my tastebuds are… sophisticated enough for that yet.”

“Oh, you’re gonna try it.”

“I will not.”

“You will,” He shrugged.

“Eddie.”

“Y/N.”

He was grinning at the horrified look on your face. You could tell he wasn’t going to let it go.

“One bite,” You finally said after he successfully stared you down. 

“Deal,” He agreed, sticking out his hand to shake on it. You shook your head at him, but stuck your hand out to grip his anyways. He held onto it for a little too long afterwards, looking you straight in the eye before you tried to turn your face away to hide your blush. You pulled your hand back and immediately turned your attention to the little jukebox that was sitting on the booth tabletop.

“This is cute. I’ve never seen one of these before. How does it work?”

“Yeah. That’s half of the appeal of this place. You can pick a song from any table, and eventually it’ll play over the speakers. My little ten-year-old brain almost exploded with excitement the first time my uncle gave me a nickel to pick out a song. Now every time we come here, we always have to pick something.”

You could picture Eddie as a little kid clear as day, easily excitable, and it made you smile. 

“Your uncle, his name is Wayne, right?” You asked.

“Yup. Good ol’ Wayne Munson.”

“So you guys are pretty close, huh?”

“Yeah. He’s more my dad than my actual dad, so.”

“He seems like a really good man.”

“He is.”

Eddie became uncharacteristically quiet then, seemingly humbled by this vulnerable admission. You tilted your head at him curiously, but he avoided your gaze and began to fish for change in his pocket, then reached out to try to hand it to you. 

“Here. Pick something out. It’s too quiet in here.”

“No, you should do it. It’s your tradition.”

“Well, now it can be yours, too,” He objected, reaching out with his other hand to peel yours off of the table, then pressed the coin into it and closed your fingers around it. “Pick a good one.”

Your face flushed as he released you and you opened your fist to look down at the coin in your hand.

“No pressure,” You mumbled to yourself with a laugh.

“What, do you think I’m a music snob or something?”

“Oh, I know you are,” You teased. “In fact, maybe I’ll try my best to pick something you’ll absolutely hate.”

“Now, hold on a minute,” He scoffed. “What did I do to deserve that?”

“Nothing. I’m just not ready to show you my hand yet. I’ve gotta figure out what your limits are first.”

“My limits? Jesus, what kind of music do you listen to?”

“Nothing weird! Just… definitely not what you’re used to.”

He cocked his head at you and raised an eyebrow. 

“I think you’re underestimating me.”

“Well, guess we’ll find out then, won’t we?”

You smirked at him deviously as you made your selection, and he sat back and crossed his arms in waiting, equally amused by your game. When it began to play, you sat back, too, staring him down, willing him to react. It took a minute for him to recognize the song, but when he did, he scrunched his eyes shut and let out a chuckle, then opened one of them to look at you. 

“Girls Just Want to Have Fun? Seriously? That cannot be one of your all-time favorite songs.”

“No, you’re right. It’s not. That was a test, and you failed,” You laughed.

“Oh, come on. That’s so not fair. How else was I supposed to react to that?!”

“Alright, alright. Fine. I’ll choose a better one for the next song. On my nickel, don’t even try to give me any more change. Got it?”

He put his hands up in defeat.

“Got it. You’re making the rules now.”

“Damn straight.”

He bit his lip, then leaned forward towards you with his hands clasped over the table as if he was prepared to make you some kind of dubious offer. 

“I have a game for you, too, though.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. I challenge you… to draw me.”

“What?”

“Draw me,” He shrugged. “What? You don’t think I could be a good model?”

He daintily pushed his hair over his shoulder and fluttered his eyelashes at you to showcase his beauty, making you laugh. 

“I’m sure you’d be a great model. I just don’t think I’m a good enough artist to capture…” You paused to wave a hand at him in a circular motion. “All that.”

He laughed back at your teasing. 

“Are you forgetting that I’ve seen your art? I know what you’re capable of.”

“You seriously want me to draw you? For what?”

“So I can hang it on my wall to remind myself how pretty I am, obviously.”

“Right. Obviously,” You snorted. He stared you down, tapping his finger on the table. 

“I am serious, though. Draw me.”

“I… with what? I don’t even have a pencil.”

He smirked at you and turned to flag down Deb, then asked her for a pencil. She took one she had been keeping behind her ear and handed it to him, and he thanked her before holding it out to you. You took it from him reluctantly, glancing between the two of them anxiously. Eddie noticed and looked back at Deb, then explained, “She’s an artist. She’s gonna draw me,” With a pleased grin.

Deb smiled back at him, eyeing you knowingly before shaking her head fondly and walking off. You raised an eyebrow at Eddie as he stared at you expectantly. 

“Alright,” You sighed, “I have a better idea. I’ll draw you somebody in this restaurant right now - anybody you choose - and if you like it, then I promise I will draw you.”

He tilted his head at you impatiently, but nodded.

“Fine. You’ve got yourself another deal. You do make the rules, after all.”

“That’s correct. So who do you pick? Choose wisely.”

He draped an arm over the back of the booth and turned his body around to look at the other people in the room, not even bothering to be covert about it. There weren’t too many to choose from. He eventually turned back around and leaned over the table to whisper to you.

“See the guy at the counter? Ten o’clock?”

You leaned a little to the left so you could look over his shoulder. 

“The one in head-to-toe camouflage?”

“That’s the one. I pick him.”

“Okay. Challenge accepted. Easy.”

He smiled at your confidence, then grabbed a napkin from the holder beside him to pass it off to you. You snorted and took it from him. It wasn’t the ideal material to draw on, but it would have to do. 

“So, what music do you usually pick out when you come here?” You asked as you began your drawing. “The selections aren’t very… metal.”

He chuckled to himself.

“Uh… well, see, that’s an interesting story. It’s actually kind of part of the tradition for me to pick a Woody Guthrie song.”

“What? Like, the guy who wrote This Land Is Your Land?”

“That’s the one,” He admitted with pursed lips and a shrug.

“Very interesting. Where did that come from?”

“Wayne introduced me to him as a kid, and I thought he was a cool dude. I had a little bit of an obsession. Read all these books about him. He’s actually the one that made me wanna play guitar.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I know. It’s shocking, right? I started with acoustic, and then when I discovered AC/DC, that was the end of that story. Wayne saved up for a year to get me my first electric guitar, and, hence, my first foray into the world of rock and roll began.”

“Ah. See, now that makes more sense to me.”

“Right. But they were just a stepping stone, obviously. The music I like now is a little more…”

“Loud?” You interrupted him with a smirk, still focused on your drawing.

“Yes, exactly. Heavier.”

“So who do you listen to now then? Anybody I would know?”

“I don’t know. Iron Maiden? W.A.S.P.? Dio? Metallica? Black Sabbath?”

“Oh, sure. Ozzy Osbourne. The guy that decapitated a bat live on stage. Love that guy,” You teased sarcastically, glancing up at his face to see his reaction. He was smiling sheepishly at you, and it was so cute that it made you want to cry. “I’m teasing. I don’t really know any of those bands, but I’m willing to be educated. You did promise me you would lend me some tapes, remember?”

His face lit up again, and his smile became wider. 

“Oh, trust me. I remember.”

“Good.”

You smiled back at him, then returned to your masterpiece before Eddie cleared his throat and tapped a finger against the mini jukebox selector. 

“Did you forget something? I shared my favorites, now it’s your turn. Pick something out that you actually like.”

You sighed and set down the napkin you were sketching on in your lap.

“For the record, I do actually like Cyndi Lauper. She’s just not in my top ten.”

“Well, of course you do. It’s criminal not to at least like her a little bit. I’m not a total freak.”

You rolled your eyes at him and crossed your arms discontentedly. 

“You’re making fun of me.”

“No, I’m not,” He raised his voice indignantly. “I’m serious. Her shit is catchy.”

“Stop it. Do you want me to finish this drawing or not?”

You set the napkin back on the table and continued, trying your best to ignore Eddie as he leaned forward towards you. Then when he realized he couldn’t get to you, he slumped back into his seat like a pouting child. Just when you thought you had won, he began to hum, and you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing up at him. Then he began to sing quietly when he realized that he had finally caught your attention. 

“I come home… in the mornin’ light… my MOther says, ‘Whatcha gonna do with your life?’”

“What are you doing?” You tried to ask him, but he ignored you and began to sing louder, drumming his fingers on the table. 

“Oh momma dear, we’re not the fortunate ones. And girls, they wanna have FU-un!”

You shushed him, eyeing the people around you, but it only spurred him on more. 

“THAT’S ALL THEY REALLY WAAAANT,” He sang as loudly and passionately as possible, closing his eyes and scrunching up his face. You straightened up in your seat in shock, then reached out to clamp a hand over his mouth without thinking.

“Stop!” You hissed, fighting back a grin so he wouldn’t be tempted to keep it up. 

“I’m not gonna stop until you agree to pick out another song,” He mumbled into your hand, tickling your palm. Then he pulled away from it and screeched, “SOME FUUUUUN!” to prove his point.

“Okay, okay!” You yelled, waving your hands at him emphatically to get him to stop before reaching into your bag for change. When you found a nickel, you held it up to him in desperation to prove that you were willing to comply, then kept your eyes locked on his as you put it into the jukebox. “Happy now?”

“Yes,” He said with a shit-eating grin. You rolled your eyes at him, then couldn’t resist looking around at the other people in the diner who were still staring at the two of you. 

This is exactly what Robin meant when she said that Eddie would be good at getting you out of your shell. Everybody was looking at you, which normally would have made you shut down, but you couldn’t help smiling. It didn’t feel so threatening when Eddie’s goofiness was the cause of it. It was actually kind of fun. 

“You’re a child, you know that?” You grumbled playfully as you turned your attention back to the jukebox to pick out a song. 

“I know,” He agreed, resting back into his seat triumphantly. You shook your head at him again.

“I can’t believe you actually know the words to Girls Just Want to Have Fun.”

“I told you,” He shrugged. “Catchy.”

Your eyes flicked up at him briefly as you were making your song selection, catching his gaze. You knew exactly what he was doing by playing these games with you. He was softening you up so you would open up to him. Worming his way into your brain, trying to figure you out. Trying to get you to share your favorite things with him. You would have been mad, but recognizing the twinkle in his eyes made it impossible. All he wanted was to get to know you better. How could you be angry about that?  

You decided to play nicely and actually picked one of your favorite songs despite the fear that he would judge you for it. After selecting it, you quickly went back to drawing, doing your best to appear nonchalant even though your heart was racing. When the song started playing and you heard a contented sigh from Eddie, you looked up at him again in shock.

“Landslide. Heavy. And not in the way I’m used to,” He joked. “Sad, heavy. But it’s really good.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, hell yeah. Fleetwood Mac was actually… one of my mom’s favorites."

You stopped drawing suddenly and stared up at him, unsure how to react to that bit of information. Judging by the serious look on his face, he wasn’t sure either. But this only lasted for a second before he had his typical, beaming, Eddie smile back, and he quickly cleared his throat and tried to move the topic away from his mom again. 

“Stevie Nicks is a total badass. Although, she wasn’t always in the band, right? It’s hard to keep all that straight. They went through a lot of personnel changes over the years, didn’t they?” 

“Yeah,” You smiled kindly, trying to ignore the pregnant pause in your conversation. “Although, I really don’t have any interest in them pre-Stevie Nicks. She’s definitely a top ten artist. Top five, even.”

“Understandable. Edge of Seventeen? Great song.”

“Are you kidding?” You scoffed ecstatically. “When that album came out, I listened to it on repeat so much that my record was completely scratched by the end of the summer. I was absolutely obsessed. I probably wouldn’t have survived the start of my freshman year without it.”

He nodded, grinning at you, basking in your joy. He’d gotten you truly excited about something for the first time that night, and he knew it. He was successfully figuring you out. Your cheeks burned red from his gaze. You shook your head and looked back down at your work, trying to pretend that it hadn’t happened. 

“You know… you can keep telling me things like that,” He said as gently as possible. “Personal things. I’m not gonna, like, use them against you, or anything. Or make fun of you. Right?”

You weren’t expecting him to say this, and it flustered you.

“I… I know,” You stammered. “I mean… I’m trying.”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to. I just want to make sure you know that. You always seem…embarrassed. I don’t want you to be.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s not you. That’s just… my own shit.”

“I get it. Trust me.”

It hadn’t really occurred to you that he would understand. He was so good at pretending like he didn’t care about anything, at being his carefree, happy self, that you almost forgot he had dealt with his fair share of bullshit in his life. 

“You can always tell me things, too. I hope you know that,” You added, just in case he didn’t.

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” 

“Speaking of…” You were about to ask him more about his mom, but Deb came over and set your plates down in front of you, interrupting you before you could. Maybe it was for the best. You didn’t want to pry too soon. You both said your polite thank you’s to her, and after she walked away, Eddie looked down at the little bowl of peanut butter on his plate, then back up at you. You groaned.

“You’re really gonna make me try that monstrosity?”

“Monstrosity? How dare you. More like masterpiece.”

“Alright, whatever. Let’s just get it over with,” You grumbled, setting your drawing aside to pick up a knife and spread a tiny amount of it onto your burger. You picked it up and stared at it, then glanced up at Eddie for a moment to see him leaning in eagerly, his chin resting on top of his intertwined hands. There was no backing out. You took a hesitant bite and put your hand over your mouth as you chewed, analyzing its bizarre taste profile. After a few moments, you let yourself swallow it and your eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Surprisingly not horrible,” You admitted.

“You love it.”

“Let’s not get too carried away. It’s… it’s good. Okay?”

He clapped his hands together excitedly, rocking back in his seat.

“I knew it! I knew you’d like it!” He exclaimed loudly and pointed a finger at you, once again drawing attention to himself.

You laughed and shushed him.

“Okay, okay. You were right. Are you happy?”

“You have no idea,” He grinned. 

You watched him take the top bun off of his burger and dump the entire bowl of peanut butter on the patty as you took a sip of your milkshake. The boy was weird, and you were enjoying every moment of watching him be himself. 

He took a large bite of the burger after reassembling it and then tried to talk to you with his mouth full without thinking. 

“What was that?” You chuckled, then took a bite of one of your fries. 

He covered his mouth with his fist and swallowed, then smiled at you sheepishly. 

“Sorry. I said, are you done with that drawing yet?”

“Oh!” You brushed your hands together to wipe off the crumbs and took the drawing off of the seat beside you to study it. Then you held up a finger and picked up your pencil again. “Just a second, it needs one last touch.” 

You scribbled one last detail then held it up, eyeing Eddie as he sat in waiting behind it. 

“Okay. I think it’s done.”

He sat up straight in his seat and wiped off his hands with his napkin, then held them out to you in preparation to receive it. You waved it at him then snatched it away playfully, and he reached out and grabbed it from you with a laugh before you could take it away again. It took him a brief moment to analyze it before his face lit up in pure delight. 

It was a drawing of the lonely camouflaged man, as requested, but slightly more caricatured with the addition of a little caption that read, “Sometimes I feel like everybody looks right through me.”

“Holy shit,” He said with a boisterous laugh. “That’s fucking amazing.”

He held it up to you to show it off as if you hadn’t just finished drawing it right in front of him less than a minute before. You chuckled at his show of pride in you. 

“Why, thank you. Glad you like it.”

“Like it? I’m framing this shit.”

“Alright. Calm down, Munson. It’s just a stupid little joke drawing.”

“No, it’s my stupid little joke drawing and I will cherish it forever,” He argued, clutching it fondly to his chest. “Thank you. I can’t believe you cranked that out so fast. This really is your thing, isn’t it?”

You remembered your conversation at The Hideout about each of your respective talents. His music, your art. Your heart dropped. Seeing the joy your drawing had brought him helped a little, but you still felt like you had all but completely lost that side of yourself. 

“Well, about that… I’m not so sure that’s true,” You admitted. “I don’t really know what my thing is anymore.”

“What? Why would you say that?”

“Because I haven’t really been able to make anything new since I graduated. It’s like I’m all dried up. Barely nineteen and I’m already having a mid-life crisis.”

“Dried up?” He scoffed. “Look at what you just did. And what about leaving Hawkins? What happened to your plans?”

He seemed genuinely concerned by your change of heart, and you didn’t really know what to say to him to make him understand what caused it. 

“I… don’t know. I just don’t think it’s in the cards for me anymore, you know? Reality kind of whacked me over the head a little bit.”

That was an understatement. And also pretty literal, considering the bruises you received from the battle at Starcourt. 

“Maybe it’ll still happen someday, but just… not anytime soon,” You added to ease his worry, even though you didn’t really believe it. He nodded and seemed to relax slightly. 

“Well, if you really are going to be sticking around for a while, we could always use your help designing band posters and stuff. Maybe even some new shirts for the Hellfire Club?” 

You blinked at him, surprised by this kind offer. He tapped his rings against the table to fill the uncomfortable silence. 

“If you’re up for it, I mean. No pressure. We probably couldn’t pay you much, but…”

“I’d love to,” You interrupted him. “Free of charge. Anytime.”

“No, you’ve gotta let me pay you something.”

“Okay, you can take me out to eat again.”

Now it was his turn to be stunned speechless. For some reason, it was a surprise to him that you considered spending time with him valuable. 

“That’s all you’ll accept?”

“Yup,” You nodded matter-of-factly.

“Sounds like that’s a bigger payoff for me, but alright.”

You smirked at him, shaking your head. That wasn’t even remotely true. 

“I believe you also owe me a portrait of yours truly,” He added. “Don’t forget.”

“Okay, fine. But it’ll cost you an extra meal.”

“I think I can live with that.”

You tried to hide your giddy smile by taking another bite of your burger, and he eyed you over the rim of his soda as he took a sip. Then he set it down quickly and swallowed as he recalled something. 

“Oh, I almost forgot. What were you gonna say before our food got here? Something personal, or whatever?”

Shit. He had heard you. You tried to think of something else you could ask him that would be much lighter than the topic of his absent parents. 

“Oh… um… I do have a question I’ve been wanting to ask you, actually. Speaking of leaving Hawkins… I’m curious to know what’s in the cards for you when you finish school. Do you have any plans? Or… dreams?”

He raised his eyebrows at you, then reached over to steal a fry from your plate. You glared at him playfully, but didn’t say anything. 

“Do I have any plans? Uh… maybe the first two times I was supposed to graduate. But the third? Nah. The plan is just to get the hell out of that school.”

“Okay… Then can I ask you something else?”

He wiped his hands with his napkin again and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. 

“Okay. Shoot.”

“You’re…smart…”

When you paused to think about how best to continue your question, he snorted.

“Is that your question?”

“No, I’m trying to say… you’re really smart, and certainly smart enough to graduate. So how have you been held back so many times?”

He sighed loudly, and blew a puff of air out of his lips. 

“Takes a certain special talent, I guess. It was actually sort of hard to do. No, actually, the answer depends on who you ask. If you ask my teachers, they would say it’s because I have an inability to focus in class. If you ask principal Higgins, he would say that I’m a degenerate who cares more about getting into trouble than succeeding in anything. And if you ask the guidance counselor, she would tell you that my unwillingness to move forward in life is due to a ‘fear of the unknown,’ and a direct result of my ‘rocky upbringing.’”

“And if I were to ask you?” You asked, cocking your head. 

He took a pause to think about it, sipping his soda again. When the answer came to him, he traced a finger over the tabletop’s pattern absentmindedly.

“I would tell you that it’s because I can’t force myself to give a shit. About any of it.”

He looked sad as he continued to stare down at the table, and you wanted nothing more than to make him smile again.

“Would it be awful for me to say that I’m glad you flunked?” You teased, leaning forward to catch his attention. “Because we probably wouldn’t be here right now if you graduated when you were supposed to. Or last year, either, actually.”

He looked up at you, the first signs of a smile appearing on his face.

“What, do you think I would have actually gone anywhere if I had graduated?”

“Absolutely. Are you kidding?”

“I think the guidance counselor would disagree with you.”

“Well, the guidance counselor can kiss my ass. You are way too good for this town, Eddie Munson. And you are going to graduate this year. I know you will.” 

You could tell he wanted to object, but the look on your face was warning him not to. He chuckled with a little shake of his head.

“Alright, how about we make one more deal then? I work hard and actually graduate, and you get the hell out of this town like you planned. Sound fair?”

“Fine. I guess that is fair,” You reluctantly agreed. “But only if you agree to get out of this town, too.”

He nodded and looked down at his hands that were resting flat on the table, then reached to twist the rings on his left hand nervously. You could tell there was something else on his mind.

“Okay. Now can I…ask you something now? Something personal?”

Uh oh.

“Sure?” You agreed tentatively. 

“You said something at The Hideout last weekend… while you were…”

“Drunk?” You interrupted him, squeezing your eyes shut in humiliation. 

“Yeah. So I don’t know if you really meant it or not, but… you said something about…how you’re a ‘ticking time bomb,’ I believe were the exact words you used? And that I…deserved somebody… ‘good, like me?’”

“Shit,” You muttered, reaching up to rub at your eyebrow. “Yeah, I remember. I wish I could lie and say I don’t, but I wasn’t that drunk. Unfortunately…”

“Right. So my question is… what the fuck was that about?” He paused to raise an eyebrow at you, then added pointedly, “Friend?”

It took everything in you not to slide down in the booth onto the floor and crawl outside, straight into traffic. 

“Fuck… I’m so sorry. I was hoping you didn’t hear that part of my rambling…”

“Yeah, sorry,” He scoffed. “Not a chance.”

“I’m so embarrassed… Look, clearly, I… I was having some… confusing thoughts. About… well, I saw you with… with Jo. And I think it just made me feel kinda lonely.”

“Jo? Oh shit… I forgot you met her.”

He forgot? You spent all summer thinking about the two of them together, and he forgot?

“Well… I did,” You said a little too aggressively. “At the movies. In June. Your date with her?”

“No, yeah… I remember,” He said, fighting back a smile at your frustration with him. “But it wasn’t really… a date, date. I don’t think.”

“Oh? Really? Then what was all that then, at The Hideout?”

“What?” He laughed, unable to fight it back any longer. You snorted at him. 

“‘Oh, Eddie,’” You mocked her, reaching out to grab his arm while pretending to fawn over him. “‘You looked so hot up there with your guitar. Marry me?’”

He laughed at you openly this time, clearly enjoying how worked up you had gotten. He’d never actually seen you act like this around him. You’d teased him before, but not like this. Not in a way that almost matched his own special brand of charisma. 

“Was that supposed to be Jo or you?” He countered.

“Her, obviously!”

“So you didn’t think I was hot?”

You rolled your eyes at him. 

“Don’t change the subject, Munson. What’s going on between the two of you?”

“Alright, alright. She came to see my band at the start of the summer, and she was nice and asked me to… hang out a… a couple times. Just casually. And I… I’m sorry, are these still friendly questions? Because I feel like I’m being interrogated a little bit.”

You didn’t like how he was anxiously dancing around the subject. Clearly, there was something about the two of them that he didn’t want you to know. 

“I’m not interrogating you,” You argued. “I think I’m asking valid questions. You never mentioned her before.”

“Well, then, can I ask you about Steve?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, annoyed by his quick deflection. 

“What about Steve?”

“Is that why you called him to come get you? Because seeing me with Jo made you feel…” He trailed off, then held up air quotes with his fingers. “‘Lonely?’”

“What? No. I… I called Steve, because nobody else would have been able to come get me. He was my only option.”

“Right. Besides… me,” He said indignantly, pointing a thumb to himself. “Who was already there, and completely ready and willing to drive you.”

“Please. That would have been… humiliating.”

“More humiliating than Steve “The Hair” Harrington threatening to kick my ass outside of a bar?”

You covered your eyes in shame. You had almost forgotten that part.

“Fuck… I am so sorry about that. If it helps at all, we fought over it.”

He eased up a bit when he saw how mortified you truly were over your decision to call Steve, relaxing back into his seat with a sigh. 

“So what’s really going on there? Honestly?” He asked. “Because I’ve gotta say, the way he tried to defend your honor like that… didn’t seem very friend-like.”

You leaned forward, pushing your plate out of the way so you could cross your arms over the table, readying yourself for a vulnerable admission. It was the first time you would be speaking about what happened between you and Steve with somebody other than him, and it felt strange. It made it feel more real. Especially since it was Eddie.

“Okay…” You began, taking a deep breath. “I don’t know what you were thinking last year with all of the rumors about us, but… I swear we were just friends. Things didn’t become more… complicated… until recently. Over the summer.”

“Oh. The summer. Right.”

You could tell what he was thinking. He knew something changed in you that summer, and he was making an assumption that Steve was the cause of it. You wanted to tell him he was wrong, that it was so much more than that, but you knew you couldn’t. You sighed, and decided to at least give him the full, honest truth about one thing. 

“We… we kissed. Once. At the end of August. And it kind of messed everything up. That’s all. I don’t even know if we’re friends anymore because we haven’t really talked since…but that’s what happened.”

“So… you guys aren’t, like… seeing each other causally or anything like that?”

“Like you and Jo, you mean?” You scoffed.

By now, you had pieced together what he meant by “casual,” and it didn’t exactly align with what you considered it to be. It was obvious that he had more romantic experience than you. 

“Yeah… I guess,” He shrugged.

“No. We are definitely not.”

He seemed to perk up slightly at this revelation, but didn’t say anything. He just nodded and went back to fidgeting with his hands. You sighed loudly. 

“Are you still seeing Jo?” You asked, then added, “Casually?” With an eye roll.

“No. It was just a fun, summer thing. We both knew it wasn’t going anywhere. We’re just friends.”

“Are you sure she knows that? Because she seemed very into you last weekend.”

“She’s just… flirtatious like that. It didn’t mean anything.”

He tilted his head to study you as you nodded slowly with your lips pursed together and stirred your milkshake with your straw.

“Are you pissed at me?” He asked you, his voice pitching up slightly in confusion.

“No. Of course not. Why would I be pissed?”

“I don’t know. Why would you be?”

“Well, I don’t know. Because I’m not pissed.”

Your eyebrows were raised as you took a drink of your milkshake and stared at him the whole time, and he scoffed at you in frustration. You set your glass down and began ripping up your straw wrapper anxiously as an awkward silence filled the air around you, and you couldn’t resist prodding him further to ease the burden of it. 

“How many… how many people… have you been with? Casually or… otherwise?”

“Is that a question friends ask each other?”

You glared up at him.

“…Yes. You don’t have to answer it. I was just curious.”

“Not many,” He shrugged. “Two. Three, actually, I guess.”

You sat quietly for a minute to let that sink in. It wasn’t outrageous, but not really what you wanted to hear.

“Can I ask you the same question?” He asked. 

You felt your cheeks turn red. Did Steve count as one? Or was he asking about how many you’d slept with? Wait, was three his number for people he’d slept with, or just done… other stuff with? Your head was starting to hurt and you regretted asking him the question in the first place. You looked up at him pleadingly, and he shook his head.

“Never mind, I don’t want to know,” He said with a chuckle, and you sighed gratefully, going back to ripping up the wrapper until it was nothing more than little white paper flakes. 

“So… have you ever brought her here?” You asked quietly, staring at the shredded remains of your wrapper. You hadn’t learned your lesson from your previous question. You were dying to know.

“Who, Jo? No. I’ve never been here with anybody before, besides Wayne. It’s kind of, like… my little secret.”

“Then why did you bring me?”

“I don’t know,” He shrugged. “I just thought… maybe you’d appreciate it.”

He’d never brought anybody else there before. Maybe he had been with other girls, but at least there were some things he hadn’t done with them before that he wanted to do with you. It made you feel special. Not that you had a right to feel that way, since it wasn’t a real date, after all. 

“I do appreciate it,” You said, barely above a whisper. “Thank you for bringing me.”

You smiled softly at each other, then your eyes drifted to Eddie’s digital watch.

“Oh, shit!” You yelled and reached out to grab his wrist to make sure you were reading the time correctly. He jumped slightly, his eyes widening in shock at your sudden outburst. It was almost midnight. “Is that the time? I should probably go… just in case my secret agent plan didn’t work on my parents.”

He studied your face, tapping his fingers on the table, and let out a disappointed sigh.

“Alright,” He agreed, then paused to take one last bite of his burger. “Let’s get you home, then. Wouldn’t want you turning into a pumpkin or something."

After the two of you went back and forth on who would pay and eventually agreed on just paying for your own meals, Eddie drove you home. You asked him to park down the street just in case your parents really had realized you were gone. 

“Thanks again. For driving me,” You said with a contented sigh after he switched off his ignition and turned to you. 

“Anytime.”

You knew you should have gotten out and left then, but you didn’t want the night to end yet. Instead, you turned back to him and asked, “Do you have a long drive home?”

“Not too long. I live out at… Forest Hills,” He admitted reluctantly. “You know it?”

“No shit! That’s where I’m helping my friend Max move in next weekend.”

He was taken aback by your excitement, and chuckled a little bit.

“Oh, yeah. Sinclair’s girlfriend. I’ve heard all about her, trust me. She was also… Billy Hargrove’s sister, right?” 

It sent a jolt through you, hearing his name. You’d almost forgotten about him for the first time in months that night.

“Stepsister. Yeah,” You corrected him, looking down at your lap. “His asshole dad just ran out on her mom, left them with nothing. Max doesn’t really talk to me about it, but I know she’s struggling.”

You fell silent and he seemed to pick up on your distress instantly. 

“I can help keep an eye out for her if you want, if you’re worried about her,” He offered quickly.

You turned your head against the headrest of your seat to look at him. He had a kind, warm smile that made you feel like melting into your seat. 

“That would be amazing. Thank you, Eddie.”

He nodded and then rested his head against the back of his seat, too, that smile still on his face as he watched you. He was so kind. So good. Your heart ached. 

“Can I ask you something before I go?” You said quietly. He nodded again, his eyes still fixated on you.

“What’s inside of you that compels you to do that? To help people like that?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, his brows furrowed. 

“You let the boys sit with you on their first day of school because they had nowhere else to sit. You’re offering to help Max, who you’ve never even met. And… you helped me. Last year. When Carol and Tommy were being assholes in the hallway. You almost got into a fight for me. What drives you to do those things?”

“I… I don’t know. Well, first of all, I helped you with Carol and Tommy because I owed you for the cigarettes, remember?” He chuckled. You weren’t amused.

“Eddie. We both know that’s bullshit. You just can’t help yourself, can you? No matter who it is, whether you know them or not, you just can’t help being the protector. Throwing yourself over the grenade. I need to know what it is that compels you to do that. I have to know where that comes from.”

He blinked at you in the dark blue midnight light, confused by your urgency, unsure how to respond. Then after a few moments, he took a deep breath and began to speak so uncharacteristically quietly that you had to lean in closer to hear. 

“Maybe it’s just because… I know what it’s like. I’m sure it’s hard to imagine now, but I was a scared kid once, too. I got beaten up all the time before I met Jeff and the others. And after, too, a little bit, but not as bad. Then when I got to high school and we found Hellfire, it became a little easier to be my loud, obnoxious self once I found other people that liked the same weird shit as me. And I felt some power in that. But I also drew some negative attention from it, obviously.”

He trailed off and looked at you, and you nodded, willing him to say what he was holding back. He bit his lip anxiously, but took a deep breath and continued anyways. 

“It did a pretty good job keeping me out of trouble for a while, but when I was 14, I kinda snapped and lost it on this kid who just would not let up. It was terrifying. It was like, I didn’t even have control over myself. I pretty much beat him within an inch of his life before my friends could pull me off of him.”

He stopped to look over at you, and seemed to clock the horror on your face that you were failing to conceal. 

“Did you know about that?” He asked, grimacing. 

You shook your head no. 

“I thought maybe you did. I mean, everybody and their mother heard about it. That’s pretty much when I became the town pariah. The “Freak." I assumed that was why you tried to stay away from me for so long.”

“No. I… I had no idea.”

“Well, the cops got involved, but thanks to my uncle, they didn’t press charges. I don’t know what he did, but I know he saved me. And after, he sat me down, and he told me that I had to make a choice. I had to decide if I wanted to hold onto all the anger and implode like everybody else in my family had, or I could just… let it go. The idea of being anything like my old man really did the trick. So I let it go. I chose to start laughing at all the bullshit instead of getting mad over it. And it wasn’t easy at first, pretending not to care. But eventually I got used to it, and people stopped messing with me. Mostly because they were scared of me, but also because they realized they couldn’t get to me anymore. It just makes life a whole lot easier when you don’t take it seriously. A lot less painful. And after a while I started trying really hard to use that superpower for good, you know?” He paused, laughing at himself a little. “I figured, if people are gonna be scared of me, I may as well use that to help out people like me. Protect the people who need it. People who… who don’t have anybody to sit with at lunch. Like you and me. I don’t know. It’s the least I could do.”

You found yourself suddenly struggling to hold back tears. You knew he hadn’t had an easy life, but hearing these details struck you deeply. He was absolutely remarkable, and much stronger than you could have ever imagined. For him to make it through that and still be the soft, gentle, goofy person he was? He had to be a real-life fucking superhero. He was incredible. And you didn’t even know his full story yet. 

“But, how do you keep that up?” You asked, your voice cracking. “I mean, don’t you get tired of pretending not to care? Don’t you ever feeling like exploding?”

“Yeah. All the time. But, you know, I have my outlets. Weed helps. Weed helps a lot. And other… nondescript drugs.”

“Eddie, I’m serious.”

“So am I. Drugs. And music. My band, my friends, my uncle, Hellfire. And… talking to you tonight. That helped… quite a bit.”

You looked away from him and sniffled, trying to pretend like it wasn’t taking everything in you to hold it together. 

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” You said, your voice raspy.

He didn’t respond. His glassy eyes just searched you in the dark.

“I really like hanging out with you,” He said instead.

“I do, too.”

“I mean, I really like hanging out with you.”

“Eddie…” You said pleadingly, still looking down at your hands.

“What?”

“We’re… we’re just friends. Remember?”

“Right. Yeah. Friends. Because friends get jealous about the people their friends have dated.”

You turned your head back to him to glare at him.

“What?”

“I didn’t like hearing about Harrington kissing you, Y/N. And I know you didn’t like seeing me with Jo last weekend.”

Your mouth fell open, and you scoffed at him reproachfully. 

“I… Why would you even be interested in me Eddie?” You deflected, because you knew you couldn’t argue with the fact that you were jealous of Jo. “After everything? After all the shit I’ve put you through?”

“Are you serious? You mean besides the fact that we had a great night and you’re insanely pretty?”

“Eddie… don’t. I mean… why did tonight even happen? Why do you keep… trying? I really don’t know if I’m worth all of this.”

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. That’s not true.”

“It is true. I’m a fucking mess, Eddie. And you’re… you. I may have been drunk when I said what I said last weekend, but I still meant it. You’re good, and you deserve somebody good and easy that sees the world like you do…”

“You wanna know what I see in you? What I’ve always seen in you?” He interrupted you quickly. “I remember you from middle school. You know that?”

You blinked at him, your mouth hanging open.

“You do?”

“Yeah. You were… so cool. So tough. Even though you were younger than me, you used to scare the shit out of me, honestly. You had me shaking in my little Reeboks. But I was also completely entranced by you. You just had this… I don’t know what to call it. Light? Just absolutely fucking radiating from you all the time, blinding me. And I noticed when… when things changed in you. Like, something was fighting inside of you to snuff it out. When Harrington and the others dropped you and you started sitting alone at lunch. And I wanted to go sit by you so badly. Just to talk to you, just to see that light in you again. But for some reason, I kept talking myself out of it. I think I was just scared, you know? That you would tell me to fuck off, or you would hate me. And that honestly probably would have killed me. So I just stayed away. And then when you got to high school… I almost went up to you. I should have. But every time I tried to talk to you I couldn’t tell if you wanted me to or not. So I tried to give you your space. But I couldn’t stop wondering… if maybe that light was still there. And each time I talked to you again I kept getting little glimpses of it, and I wanted more. So I kept trying, year after year, rejection after rejection. And then tonight… fuck. Now I know it’s still there. It’s still fighting to get out, despite all the shit you’ve gone through. I just had to earn it. And I gotta say, it’s definitely worth all the effort. Because, I swear… you’re fucking magic, Y/N. There’s nobody like you.”

You couldn’t fight the tears back anymore. It was too much. He was too perfect, too kind. Nobody had ever, ever said anything remotely like that about you before. He had noticed you the whole time, before you even noticed him. He called you magic. Him. 

You tried and failed to hide your emotions from him, and as soon as he noticed, he immediately turned his whole body towards you in preparation to comfort you. 

“I’m sorry, did I say something to upset you? Did I freak you out?”

“No, it’s nothing,” You said quickly, waving a hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Obviously it’s not nothing. If I scared you away… I understand. I know I’m a lot, trust me.”

You shook your head as you tried to stop your tears.

“No, no. Definitely not. I just can’t believe… I think you’re just a really amazing person, Eddie. Maybe even the best I’ve ever met,” You admitted quietly. “And I wish I’d gotten to know you better so much sooner.”

His face changed from concern to shock, then to something that looked a whole lot like longing, all in one split second.

“Me too. The second you got to high school and you pierced me with those eyes of yours from across the cafeteria while I was acting like an idiot… I wish I’d walked over and asked you out right then and there. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“It’s my fault,” You sniffled, shaking your head. “I’m always running away. I wish I could stop running away.”

He reached out to wipe one of your tears away, and you shamelessly kept your eyes locked on him the entire time. He let his ring-clad fingers linger on your cheek, and your eyelids fluttered from the shock of the cool sensation of metal against your skin. 

“I wanna kiss you,” He said plainly. You were taken aback by his honesty. Nobody had ever said that to you so plainly before. 

“You do?”

He nodded, his thumb still brushing your cheek as his eyes darted around your face. If he could be honest, you could, too. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted that,” You whispered. 

He leaned forward towards you, and you stayed completely still as you watched and waited for him, wanting to take in every single moment. Then his lips were finally against yours, pulling you into a kiss so soft and gentle that it made you want to cry all over again. 

The only comparison you had was your kiss with Steve, but you instantly knew that this was what it was really supposed to feel like. It wasn’t fumbling, or rushed, or too heavy. It was perfect. It felt like a thousand tiny little shockwaves being sent through your body. 

You recognized the feeling immediately. Electricity. And not just that, but something else, too. Something purer. It was laced with complete adoration and trust. He had been nothing but gentle and honest with you the entire time he’d known you, from the very first time you spoke with him. But this also made you realize that you hadn’t been so truthful. There was a large part of your life that you had been keeping from him. You suddenly felt like a fraud. That you weren’t actually the person he thought you were. 

And if you were honest with him, what would happen then? Would he believe you? Would he think you were insane? If he did believe you, would that mean that he would be in danger the next time something inevitably happened? What if something bad happened to him? The intrusive image of Max sobbing over Billy’s body reentered your brain, and you pulled away from him quickly, turning your head. He backed away slightly in surprise, but kept his hand on your cheek as concern reappeared on his face. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked with furrowed brows, trying to get you to look at him. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I can’t… we can’t… do this.”

When you said this, he immediately removed his hand from you and sat back in his seat, trying to hide the look of dejection on his face. You watched him as he turned his head away from you to look out the window, clamping a hand to his mouth. It pained you seeing him so shut down.

“Eddie… I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, then turned back to face out the windshield, still trying his hardest to avoid eye contact with you. 

“I can’t figure you out, Y/N. You gotta help me out here. Because I’ve been bending over backwards trying to figure out what you want from me for far too long. I’m trying really hard to be patient, because I understand. I really do. And I know I’m not… the best option for you. So if you really want me to leave you alone, it’s fine, but you’ve gotta tell me now. Once and for all. Because I can’t keep doing this.”

“Eddie, it’s not that. I swear to you, it has nothing to do with you. You’re… perfect. I just have… a lot of shit I need to work out. Trust me, I’m the problem here. Can’t we just… can’t we just be friends? Like we agreed?”

He cocked his head at you impatiently.

“You know I don’t want that, right? You’ve gotta know that. I want more than that. I want to spend time with you exactly like this, exactly like tonight, but I want to be able to call it a date, and I want to be able to kiss you again. I don’t want to have to hold back with this. I want to be with you.”

It still shocked you how straightforward he was being, despite the fact that he’d never been anything other than that. It felt strange to have someone fight for you like this.

“I’m sorry. I want all that, too…”

“Then what is it? I don’t understand.”

You leaned forward in your seat to put your head in your hands. You didn’t even know where to begin. He waited for an answer as long as he could before he let out a deep breath.

“Is this about whatever’s keeping you stuck in this town?” He asked, then after another breath, he added more quietly, “Whoever keeps bruising up your face?”

“What?” You gasped in shock, straightening yourself up to look at him again.  

“I went by the general store while you were working back in July, and I saw the bruises on your face. I would have walked in right then and there and tried to find out whoever did it, I wanted to more than anything, but I… didn’t think I had the right to. If that person is still in your life now, though, if you need help, I’ll do anything. I swear. I’ll kill them myself…”

“Eddie!” You interrupted him, gripping his arm tightly. “Slow down, it’s not… it’s not like that, I promise! I’m fine now. I’m okay. That person’s not…” you trailed off, thinking about Billy’s lifeless, blood-covered face on the floor of the mall once again, and removed your hand from him quickly. “That person can’t hurt me anymore,” You concluded weakly. Eddie could tell right away from your voice that there was more to the story, though.

“Look, I know you told me nothing is going on between you and Steve anymore, but if he was hurting you…”

“It really wasn’t Steve. Okay? I know he was an asshole once - and you probably still think that he is - but even back then, he never would have done that to me. Ever. Please believe me.”

“Then… please, can you just… can you just tell me what’s really going on?” He begged you wearily. You swallowed, trying to come to terms with some portion of the truth that you could share with him. 

“In July… it was… I was there. At the mall, on The Fourth. During the…fire.” It physically pained you to lie to him like that, but that was as close to honest as you could get. 

His face softened as he studied the tortured look on your face. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“I know. It’s fine,” You said quickly, trying to brush it off. He fell quiet, and then after a moment, he couldn’t resist pressing you further. 

“Is that what you’re trying to save me from? From whatever happened at the mall?”

“Eddie, please,” You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut in exasperation. 

“Listen, I’m sorry, but I know there’s more to the story there. And if it’s something you know about, something I can help you with… I want to help.”

When he said this, your fear intensified. He was closer to figuring out the truth than you realized, and if he did figure it out, he would most likely do everything in his power to protect you. Even if it meant putting himself in harm’s way. He could never resist throwing himself on a grenade, after all. 

Eddie was amazing. He said all the right things, and he made you laugh, and he made you feel safe and comfortable in your skin. It had been an amazing night. But it was selfish of you to bring him into your messy life. You had roped him in when he had no idea how high the stakes really were.

You couldn’t let him end up like Billy. Or Bob. Or Barbara. Or Hopper. Each person you had to watch your friends lose was a lesson, and it would be thoughtless to ignore it. 

He could never really know about what you’d been through. You wouldn’t have it. You wouldn’t take his freedom away from him. His future. It wasn’t right. He’d been through so much already. You couldn’t let him get involved. 

You knew instantly what you had to do. You had to push him away one last time. 

“You’ve just been dying to save me from myself this whole time, haven’t you?” You snapped. “To rescue me, just like you try to rescue everybody else.”

“What? No. I want to help you, but it’s not like that. It’s… I don’t know. Maybe I thought…”

“Thought what?”

“That… you could save me, too. That we could save each other.”

When he said this, it felt like a punch in the gut. Little did he know that this was your chance to be selfless, like him. Pushing him away was saving him, even if it hurt him. Even though you wanted nothing more than to be the one he could always confide in. 

“Eddie… I can’t save you, and you can’t save me. This isn’t some… fantasy novel or D&D. This is real life shit, and it’s… look, if you don’t want to stay friends, then I think we need to move on. This is me officially asking you to leave me alone. Okay? Thank you for tonight. I’m… I’m sorry.”

He didn’t argue. He just frowned at you, his face screwed up tightly as if he was in physical pain. You’d never seen him look so sad or confused in your entire life. It took everything in you to turn away from him, to fight more tears back as you unbuckled your seatbelt and got out of his van. You walked briskly away and didn’t stop until you made it up to your room and shut the door quietly, falling face down on your bed. After several minutes of a decent, self-pitying cry, you got the urge to pull out your Walkman and listen to something that might soothe you. When you shuffled through your tapes, you paused when you got to Bella Donna - the album you had talked to Eddie about at the diner - and decided to play it for old-time’s sake. You collapsed back onto your bed and shut your eyes, letting Stevie Nicks take you back to where it all started. You began to feel a little better until Leather and Lace started to play, and the lyrics were like a knife to the heart. You had listened to it a million times before, but now it suddenly felt like it was written for you and Eddie. You began to bawl all over again.

He was the strong, outgoing one who had the ability to bring you to life, and you wanted nothing more than to let him open up to you again the way he had before you’d gotten spooked. 

Maybe now it was your involvement with the supernatural keeping the two of you apart, but this wasn’t a new feeling. There was something there already, all this time, keeping you from him. Something that Eddie had clearly noticed as well. Otherwise, you would have gone to see Corroded Coffin the very first time he asked when you were seventeen. You probably would have already been a couple. Maybe you wouldn’t have even wound up in that junkyard last November. But something had always been in the way, keeping him at a distance, and now it was too late.

The problem was that your heart had been broken long before you met him. You didn’t even realize it until then, but listening to the record again as it stirred up old emotions in you, it was apparent that it hadn’t actually ever healed. You remembered how you used to sob every time the final track of the album played. “The Highwayman.” You, in your infinite pre-teen wisdom, believed Steve to be your highwayman. The one who valued glory over your love for him when he suddenly stopped speaking to you and became the most popular boy in school. 

“And still, they try again.”

Maybe that’s why you were so mad at Steve about your kiss. Maybe it brought up all of those repressed memories of betrayal the same way your record was now. Maybe you were actually still angry about what you thought had happened between the two of you in middle school, even though you believed you were past it after finding out the truth. You had never been fully honest with him about how much it had shattered you. You assumed it didn’t matter anymore, but if it really didn’t, then you probably would have told him about it. You were still clearly wounded, left with the lingering bitterness of unworthiness and shame. And you really only had yourself to blame. 

Sure, Carol and Tommy had done their fair share of filling your head with insecurities, but it was you who believed them and held onto every word. You were still holding on. The lovelorn, anxiety-rattled thirteen-year-old in you was still there, still unsure of how to mend what had never actually been broken by somebody else. Because Steve had never really broken your heart. He never even knew how you felt about him. You broke it all on your own, and you had to figure out how to heal it on your own, too. 

You just really, really had to get your shit together. 

How was it even possible that in less than a year, you had discovered another dimension beneath Hawkins and kissed two different boys that you had only ever dreamed about getting close to? No wonder you were so messed up.

You started the tape over again and got under your covers with your clothes still on, eventually crying yourself to sleep.

[anders-hawke]

talked through the whole hour long therapy session... so unlike me... the wonders of going outside and literally touching grass.

actually i saw these fish that dig holes in the river to hide in and lay their eggs because they blend in so the birds can’t swoop in and snatch them to eat. there was also this cute little turtle that kept poking its head up to look at me!

also read all of tbosas and then reread the first quarter on the flight home. such a good book! i’m glad they got rid of dr. kay and the two academy professors for the movie bc that definitely would’ve been too much. i can’t remember if they kept in the mockingjays repeating sejanus’s last words though but i did like how they changed it to have the recording played out loud at his execution bc there really was no good way to keep that part to the book. it was such a treat reading it after seeing the movie bc then i could read the lyrics and listen in my head to the songs, heh. but something i missed in the movie was the emphasis on the capitol old guard. like coriolanus references that he and the other academy kids are likely family bc so many were killed in the war and then in turn that emphasizes how much of an outcast sejanus is. i also like changing it so that the plinth prize is established from the start bc i loved when highbottom commented that coriolanus got the plinth prize after all or w/e. but also in the book sejanus’s dad straight up says to coriolanus “well we’re parents without a son and you’re a son without parents, so...” which was SO funny bdlsjak

[kkoraki]

Top 10+, Bottom 4+, & Wackiest Books of 2022

Out of the 80+ books I read in 2022, the following distinguished themselves in special ways.

I am only including new reads, not rereads. I put the little kneejerk blurb/reaction I wrote immediately after finishing the book below it. If I had extra thoughts on a book while making this list I put that in a second paragraph or in [square brackets].

If you have read any of these I would love to hear your thoughts. If you haven’t read any of these but have questions or opinions, have at it.

Top 10!

I read so many books I liked this year that it was hard narrowing these down. This ended up being more of a top 15+. The top 10 are listed in chronological order of when I read them.

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle - Barbara Kingsolver 

I think I want to buy this one! Entertaining, informative, and she’s a great writer (...I need to read some of her actual books). The story of a family only eating local for 1 year while living on an Appalachian farm. Loved it. (02/22)

Soul Lanterns - Shaw Kuzki

Really beautiful children’s chapter book about the lasting effects of the atom bomb in Hiroshima (but not tragedy p/orn). This is a book I want to read to my kids. It made me tear up. (03/22)

Zora Neale Hurston (Tell My Horse; Every Tongue Got To Confess; Their Eyes Were Watching God)

TEWWG: I LOVE the way this woman writes. Wow. (03/22)

TMH: I loved her novel but I almost feel she shines even more when relating anecdotes & folk practices. Beauty incomparable. (03/22)

ETGTC: Hurston is wonderful at capturing the way different people sound. Not because of funetik aksent - it’s the rhythm and word choice. (04/22)

My Favorite Thing is Monsters - Emil Ferris

INTENSE, pretty fucked up graphic novel - all drawn in ballpoint pen! - about a girl in Chicago in the 6s, her Casanova artist brother, her weird neighbors & classmates, & her Holocaust survivor upstairs neighbor with a FUCKED UP backstory who gets murdered. Also the girl loves monsters (obviously). Ends on a total cliffhanger. (04/22)

Stephen Graham Jones (The Only Good Indians; Mongrels; My Heart Is a Chainsaw) 

TOGI: GOOD STUFF. That great Alien-style horror where it starts out with awful scary suspense, people start to die, then it ends all action-movie. I will say the ending was almost too nice and pat but that is such a minor complaint. It’s about 4 Blackfeet men who illegally hunted elk when they were younger, and the repercussions 10 years later. (06/22)

Mongrels: Really baller book about werewolves. Kickass worldbuilding & storytelling. Great stuff. (07/22)

MHIAC: BEST BOOK OF HIS YET. Dude! More people need to be wiling to write feral sad fucked up female protagonists like this one! The ending definitely felt like a slasher homage so it wasn’t as fulfilling as I would’ve wanted, but I think that was a genre constraint. This should get adapted into a movie. (08/22)

CW (character spoiler so rot13): pfn onpxfgbel erirny sbe n znwbe punenpgre

The Tiger & the Wolf - Adrian Tchaikovsky

omg Adrian Tchaikovsky strikes again! This book is a 10/10, what Kiesha’ra would be if it weren’t trash [IYKYK]. I loved both protagonists & the supporting cast development was stellar. It did feel like a parent reveal was being set up for 1 character that didn’t end up playing out but maybe I just read it wrong. Good stuff. (07/22)

Ancillary Justice, Sword, & Mercy - Ann Leckie

Can’t believe I waited so long to read these... they 100% lived up to the hype. Sword + Mercy felt like bonuses/unnecessary but I liked that. This is how to do great SF! (09/22)

The Hate U Give - Angie Thomas

ANOTHER one that WAY lived up to the hype! The characters were so real in this. Loved the family relationships. Amazing book, in my top 10 for sure. [and it was! lol] (09/22)

Jesse Bullington - (The Folly of the World; A Crown For Cold Silver)

TFOTW: Amazing book, this guy has wack ideas and can really write! Loved how dark and clever it was. (10/22)

I was pressed for time and didn’t do a whole summary in my initial note but the publisher’s summary does TFOTW as much justice as a summary can. It contains vErY interesting canon gay and an incredibly scrungly scrappy female protagonist.

ACFCS (as Marshall): I really liked this because it was a classic adult sprawling fantasy, but with none of the sexual violence or ethnic/gender baggage endemic to that genre. It was bloated as hell but the bloat was thoroughly enjoyable. (11/22)

The only thing I was disappointed in/nervous of in ACFCS, early on, was that the androgynous character described gender neutrally was revealed to be 100% woman in a way that pinged a slight alarm for me because I wasn’t sure where it was going, but then she turned out to be an adorable woman-chasing baby butch with absolutely 0 sexual tension with the older male POV character whose chapters she stars in so I was fine with it again. Also this book had one of the most interesting and tragic evil/morally ambiguous female characters I’ve read about in a WHILE and I’m still thinking about her. Oh lol it also has a 16 year old annoying fantasy pope but to shake things up a bit this one is a girl who wears black and she’s not important. The whole thing is just full of fun obviously. If you love way too long fantasy go read it!

When I’m Gone, Look For Me in the East - Quan Barry

Late fave of the year?? An elegantly written book about twin brothers in modern Mongolia seeking the reincarnation of a Tibetan Buddhist spiritual figure. The narration was entirely in present tense. I didn’t feel the ending had much impact or value but the rest of the book was so artfully done I don’t care. [And it made it to my top 10!] (12/22) 

For the top 15:

Night Theater - Vikram Paralkar

The Fortune Men - Nadifa Mohamed

The Language of the Night - Ursula K. Le Guin essay collection

Patience & Sarah - Isabel Miller

Conversations with Octavia Butler - Octavia Butler interview collection

Bottom 4 Plus 3

Bottom 4, plus 3 I liked overall but had different issues/strong negative discussion points with. I read so many books this year that I wanted to sit back and think about exactly why I disliked some of them or what I disliked about the ones that didn’t work for me.

Revival Season - West

So bad & offensive. (03/22)

This woman grew up in urban Cali and wrote this entire book at a writing seminar in urban Ohio. Enough said. Except no. This book is enragingly bad and offensive on so many levels to every single character depicted in the book but especially the protagonist, her disabled sister, the mom, and even the antagonist preacher dad. I get that statistically not everyone grew up as a fundie PK or whatever but just based on the narrative treatment of the disabled sister, I’m shocked that the Goodreads reviews are so positive. Totally insulting shitty book. And the writing sucks too. That sounds so juvenile but it pretty much does just... suck.

Out of Darkness - Perez

I hated what this book did and how it did it so much that I didn’t even write it down in my book journal after finishing it in June/July, so these notes are current. A ton of gratuitous plot unnecessary/irrelevant CSA of the protagonist and that isn’t even why I hated it. I will only say that as great and interesting as the summary and setting might sound, do not be deceived. This book is the greatest argument in favor of #OwnVoices I’ve ever read due to how awful it is.

The Unbroken - Clark

Should have been better than what it was... great ideas but the plot (+ consistent characterization) was in shambles. (09/22)

OK. So. We’re talking longass ~diverse~ fantasy. Marshall’s A Crown For Cold Silver, on my Top 10 list, is a way too long brick of fantasy and I was delighted by it, but Clark’s The Unbroken is a way too long brick of fantasy that should have been eviscerated by its editor. You absolutely feel the length in both of these but in one of them you’re happy about it like a nine course feast you can savor and in one of them you feel like you’re dragging yourself through the desert waiting to die. The reason for this is that ACFCS coheres beautifully on a plot level and is filled with interesting characters whose actions cohere with who the character is as a person and lead toward an epic conclusion, as well as characters’ relationships being consistent and developing -- positively or negatively -- in ways that make sense. The Unbroken... has none of that. Plot and character development were in shambles and it suffered from similar (though not quite as shocking) moral event horizon problems as Bright Smoke, Cold Fire (further down this list).  Also I fully assumed the author was white because of how sympathetically the white-coded colonist princess girl and her European noble friends were written in comparison to literally everyone else but I guess that’s just how the book was. Anyway, read this book if you want to gain an intimate understanding of Dorothy Jones Heydt’s eight deadly words.

Pet - Emezi

This was unfortunately a mess. Great ideas but a mess. Did not like the writing, plot was boring and the fridge horror of the utopia was hinted at but never explored or engaged with. (10/22)

I may have been too hard on it in my kneejerk reaction but it is not good. It suffered from similar issues to Cloud Cuckoo Land (below) except not only is this author a career modern litfic writer she was also trying to write a kids book for the first time apparently. This explained a lot of the... weirdness about how it was written. On a character and theme level it was a very surface level, slightly confused book, which would be OK if the plot was comprehensible or the world was interesting and well thought out but neither of those things was true.

3 more that I couldn’t call bad but had critical things to say about that I wanted to make sure everyone saw 🤪

Bright Smoke, Cold Fire

Romeo & Juliet retelling that would have been GREAT if the ending hadn’t included 1 protagonist sprinting across the moral event horizon at light speed and the implied gay character having his male love interest turn out to be a crossdressing girl. Literally devastated bc the beginning was SO GOOD (this is the one where Juliet & Paris are baby homeschoolers) (and Juliet swordfights) (04/22)

The other huge criticism I have for this book other than the two things above which were already bizarre and book-ruining is that it wasn’t a self contained story. It feels like it could and should have been, to the point where the last third and even last half of the book felt off in the pacing as the plot was, oddly, stretched artificially out for the purpose of coming to less of a conclusion than it would have if the story were allowed to be fully resolved by the end of the book.

Cloud Cuckoo Land

Oh boy... one of my first encounters with a contemporary Lit Fic (TM) writer in a long time. The parts of the book set in historical Turkey + Constantinope I enjoyed. The rest I liked the idea of but it just felt SO... pure extruded litfic product. [There was a topically relevant school shooter and a topically relevant evil tech company and a topically relevant elderly gay man whose whole life was sad because of homophobia and then he died sacrificing himself. All written in that tasty pure extruded litfic voice. The Turkish boy and Byzantine girl were good but they should’ve been their own book.] (08/22)

Wake of Vultures

Loved the concept and the protagonist, loved the setting, loved the magic/myth system, loved the story. Did not love how the entire thing was written like YA except for the multiple extremely graphic and plot unnecessary sexual assaults on the transmasc protagonist in the last third of the book (while misgendering them because of course). It didn’t make me DNF the book because I was invested and wanted to see how it ended but I won’t be reading more of this series. [...In keeping with the theme introduced by my #2 Worst, this book was not #OwnVoices either. In retrospect, I knew that going in and should have been wary about how many people said it was an OMG Awesome Trans Protagonist Book.] (12/22)

Wackiest because I needed this section

This mostly exists because I’m still not over the funniest, weirdest summary vs. plot bait and switch I’ve ever experienced in a (decently written) book in a long time, but it also exists so I can praise one of my top 10 again.

The Night Tiger - Yangsze Choo

Crouching (were)tiger, hidden sibling incest romance. Yes. That is what it is. You will read the summary and the reviews and come away expecting a dark, adult, slightly creepy Malaysian historical fantasy about weretigers. Do not be misled, as I was. There are no weretigers. There is no fantasy. This book is a 1930s Malaysia period piece framing a lovingly written heterosexual incest romance. For any of you who enjoy this kind of thing... have at it! The book is good and the setting was gorgeous. I was just baffled. I’m still cracking up about the whole experience of reading this book and finally realizing more than 2/3 of the way through that 1) it was romance genre; 2) between the siblings; and 3) there weren’t going to be any weretigers. Tragic!

Anyway, I want to read more books set in 1930s Malaysia/British Malaya so if you have ‘em send recs.

My Favorite Thing Is Monsters - Emil Ferris

OK just read this. CW for everything fucked up though. 

[meltotheany]

hi hi friends! i hope you’re all doing well. june was a little bit of a whirlwind for me, but i was still able to read six things that i can’t wait to talk about with you! june is also my army anniversary with bts, and this year was the fifth! which feels very insane to type! but jimin also dropped a song the exact day, so the month for sure is ending on a happy note! but let’s get into the six books i read this month! 💜 ✨ Jujutsu Kaisen, Vol. 04 by Gege Akutami ⭐⭐⭐ ➛ vol. 1 ★★★★ ➛ vol. 2 ★★★ ➛ vol. 3 ★★★ i really am loving every itadori and sukuna interaction/moment. honestly, sukuna was my favorite character in this fourth installment, and im not sure what that says about me, but here we are. my heart @ junpei, fully and utterly. mahito, after my fave scene with sukuna, thinks up a new mission to steal some remaining cursed fingers of sukuna. but besides that, we get to see the start of the good year event, which is a team battle of different schools, where the most exorcisms win. but obviously, itadori is a target all on his own. so, so, so excited to continue on, probably extra because of the cliffhanger ending feeling of this, too! trigger + content warnings: fighting / battle, violence, blood, gore, death, talk of bullying ✨ One Perfect Couple by Ruth Ware ⭐⭐ i feel like i really can’t talk about this book without getting into a little spoilery territory, so please skip over this review if you wish to know nothing about this thriller! (and i do say thriller and not thriller mystery because there really isn’t much mystery to this story whatsoever, which is also probably a reason i didn’t enjoy it as much!) but i picked this up because 1) i have enjoyed ruth ware in the past and 2) the girls were saying survivor meets love island and i will always be here for that set up! But instead of love island and survivor, we get lord of the flies and men’s rights activists. our main character, lyla, reluctantly agrees to go on a reality tv dating show, set on a secluded island, because her boyfriend is an actor and really begs her to do it because it could be very good for his career. lyla’s lab contract is up next month, and the funding renewal isn’t looking too good, so she also agrees under the condition that she can work on her paper and that she can only be on the island for two weeks. but after filming for only 24 hours, a big storm comes that is not only deadly but has completely made the people on the island not be able to contact anyone to come save them. And then she and the rest of the people are trying to survive while… red pill lord of the flies ensues. i really do respect making the villain who it was, and i respect the talk of the manosphere and the following these mens right activities accumulate on youtube and other platforms that also leads to the perpetuation of violence against women. but oh my god, i just hated reading about this man with all the sum of hate i have in my body. after that storm, that man would have been GONE by me and me alone and i would not have… done what they did at the end (even though that’s an important discussion too, and it does make sense, but again – i just hated reading about it!) i hope if you pick this one up, you have more fun reading it than i did, friends! trigger + content warnings (these will content some plot spoilers so please use caution or do not read if you do not need to know any tw/cws): extremely bad storms, talk of fear of water, extremely abusive relationships, blood, death, drowning, talk of loss of parent in past (one sentence), suicide mentions, not having the insulin that you need, grief, depression, loss of partner, grooming in past, and discussion of men’s rights activists throughout (always in a negative light but it is a lot) ✨ Heir of Fire (Throne of Glass, #3) by Sarah J. Maas (reread) ⭐⭐⭐⭐ “You cannot pick and choose what parts of her to love.” listen, 2015 melanie gave this two stars and i am 99% sure that was just because i shipped celaena...

[nightcourtreader]

about your previous anon ask: I had quite different journey in regard of Nesta than you. is it weird that now I hate nesta? I mean tumblr ppl made me hate her so much right now and when I read acosf for the first time I fell in love with her but I didn't forget what she'd done to ppl around her specially Feyre but I forgave her. bc I understand her, her self-loathing, her lack of action to prove someone wrong even tho it might hurt herself or others. but like I said I also never forgot how she was in the first book. after coming here I just saw how ppl, specially her stans, misunderstood her how they turned her in to this saint that she has done nothing wrong but that was not sjm intention. Nesta hated herself for how she treated Feyre and here are ppl calling her queen for those behavior or how they say Feyre wanted to hurt herself and act like a victim while they were in the cabin. I even saw someone say that Feyre had no right to tell Nesta not to marry Tomas before she left for spring court or the way she imprisoned her at the house of wind (do they know what imprison means? whatever Nesta's situation was I'm sure as hell wasn't being imprisoned) and it's funny that Nesta was thankful for her bc she was one of the reasons she turned into this person that she is now.

a very similar thing happened between me and my younger sister and even tho I was mad at the time I'm always going to be grateful for her. if I see someone is drowning themselves and it doesn't matter the amount of time I gave them to heal themselves to overcome their trauma and now their actions are reaching me as well? Imma try to help them myself in whatever way I can even if it's unwanted. it might not be right to force ppl to do things but it's been effective as we saw in acosf and how Nesta was grateful to both Feyre and Rhys at the end.

and I can't love Nesta freely or without this ugly image these Nesta stans pictured for her. or tell others without someone coming at me telling me their distaste for Rhys & Feyre or IC in general.

idk maybe it's just me. maybe this is how sjm intended, to make Feyre the bad guy in Nesta's story. to make Nesta and Elain in the right for not helping Feyre bc they're not parents of Feyre and they shouldn't have a little sympathy and help their sister in difficulty bc that's what a human being does and not a selfish one and call their sister half beast or whatever...

yeah anyway sorry for the rant maybe I should reread acosf and try to forget those ugly comments and try to love her again but it's quite hard. I hate that HER STANS taint her character for me :')

I completely understand. I think it’s perfectly fine to not like her. I think it’s valid reasons not to like any character in this series.

Like I think people like to argue ohh nesta is just mean in the first acotar book, but to me she was still mean up until her book. I do not give her credit for telling Feyre about the pregnancy because she also, alongside the IC, agreed not to tell Feyre in the beginning & she only did it so she could hurt someone because she was hurt by Armen. It’s not a good thing when you don’t do it for the right intentions.

I know everyone is like ohh but Rhys threaten her and blah blah and told everyone to be quiet, but nesta also threaten Feyre because of Elain. Nesta isn’t only at fault about the whole pregnancy thing either tho. I think EVERYONE (Rhys & IC included) was fucked up, besides Mor since she was gone & Elain because I don’t even think she even knew or was told. But I think it makes sense for nesta to still be mean because her healing journey didn’t start until acosf.

I think when you read the series, in my opinion, if you think nesta is a saint, or any of the characters for that matter are saints who can’t do anything wrong than you are reading the wrong series. I think a lot of stans have trouble accepting that their fav characters has done wrong in the series & I get it that their fav character might have been wronged by others but we’re not talking about that, we’re talking about what the character has done. Like I’m a Feyre girlie, but I can accept that my girl has done some fucked up shit and this series. Rhys too.

The thing some people don’t understand is that nesta herself didn’t want to be that mean, bitter, angry person. She didn’t wanna lash out of people. She only said those things for self satisfaction that only lasted for a few minutes at most. Nesta also knows she wasn’t a good person and wanted to get better, that was the whole point of acosf. I know a lot of people are mad she’s with Cassian and she’s still in the night court but in my opinion the night court really fits her. People think she changed herself to fit Cassian’s standards and I don’t think that is true either. I think nesta just added to herself.

I also don’t think that nesta verbally abusing Feyre is a Queen moment to me. I know a lot of people didn’t think she did, but to me she did. It’s just really messed up. I know a lot of people don’t like Feyre and glad that nesta talked down on her, but nesta literally didn’t like doing that stuff. And if it was Feyre saying those things all hell would have broke loose.

But I think nesta behaved that way with Feyre because she knew Feyre did all the things she wouldn’t allow herself to do, and I think she acknowledges this. Feyre herself stated that they are two sides of the same coin, Feyre and nesta are so similar to each other in my opinion.

I know a lot of people say it’s the Archeon’s parents fault for what happen to the sisters in the cabin and I whole heartily agree. Papa Archeon should have gotten his ass up and did something, but I don’t think nesta & Elain made the situation any better. Refusing to help to spite your father knowing he’s not going to help what so ever is not a good enough excuse for me.

Also, Feyre telling nesta about Thomas is something nesta was thankful she did say. Why wouldn’t Feyre tell her sister that the man she has every intention on marrying has an abusive father? Abusive tendencies can be given to the next generation. We see how Thomas turned out to be, so why would we want nesta subjected to that?

Honestly I do agree with the fact that Feyre & the IC could have went about it another way with nesta & the house of wind, but I can also see it as involuntary admission, which is something that happens in the real world where people are admitted to a facility because they are a danger to themselves and they are admitted against their will.

I don’t think nesta was going to get better on her own, she was too stubborn. A lot of people argue that Feyre was given months to heal and stuff and I get that but nesta & Feyre aren’t the same, nesta is way more stubborn & I feel like why would they let nesta intentionally suffer knowing they could help her? If they didn’t help nesta, she would’ve been like that for years and it wouldn’t have been healthy! She would have destroyed herself. And in the end nesta is glad they gave her the help because she knew she wasn’t going to do it on her own!

I think that it was intentional that SJM wrote nesta & Elain to be like the bad sisters in acotar. Its very obvious that she wrote them like that to not be liked. I think she didn’t plan to do a spin off on the sisters at first. But then she did.

I don’t think Feyre was the villain of nesta’s story, I think it’s very obvious she and the IC are not the villains of nesta’s story no matter how bad people want them to be. I understanding not liking the method of what they did with the house of wind, because 10,000 steps is a bitch to go down, but nesta literally did it when she was mad and going to confront Armen. If she was really mad enough about staying I think that she could have left. Could have left the night court. I think the times she wanted to leave the house was to go get alcohol, something she didn’t need and that’s the reason SJM didn’t have her go all the way down the stairs.

And I do agree that some nesta stans do make it hard to like her. I do think it’s ok if you don’t like the IC or Feyre and like nesta. But I don’t like really seeing bashing posts about Feyre and the IC unless it’s accurate information about it because people like to make up and expand stories to tell why they don’t like them.

So my advice is to block and filter things you don’t like seeing to enjoy your experience. That’s what I do and it has made my experience on here so much better. I also try to move on when I see things I don’t like on other social media because people like to pull out of the ass things. Like maybe reread and see if you like nesta yourself without being influenced by others opinions and it’s ok if you still don’t in the end, your opinion is valid.

I would just look at it like all the characters are fucked up but can I still like them after the fact?

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

Return to Satterthwaite Court by Mimi Matthews

Somerset Series #3

 Wonderful Victorian romance with lead romantic characters that were perfect together. Having just reread a Georgette Heyer book that starred a dog, as this story did, I have to say I much preferred THIS book that Heyer’s.

 What I liked:

* Lady Katherine Beresford “Kate”: spirited, bright, sister to three older brothers, daughter of parents who love one another, animal lover, good friend, adventurous, knows what she wants, and she wants Charles

* Lieutenant Charles Heywood: lieutenant in the Navy, loves adventure, disillusioned by what he has seen of empire building and the impact it has on others, protective, wise, loving son and brother, loves animals, and rather taken with Kate

* That both Kate and Charles have parents who love one another and that they aspire to having similar relationships with the people they marry

* Siblings of Kate and Charles – have a feeling that they will get stories of their own and I would like to read them.

* The backstory and mystery solved of Satterthwaite Courts inheritance and what really transpired

* That I could see Kate and Charles living a happy life together and building a family equal to the ones they both grew up in

* The tie-in to previous books in this series

* Looking forward to the next books in the series

 What I didn’t like:

* Who and what I was meant not to like

* Elias Catmull, his mother and his deplorable ancestor(s)

 Did I like this book? Yes

Would I read more in this series? Definitely

 Thank you to NetGalley and Perfectly Proper Press for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 5 Stars

      BLURB

 A reckless Victorian heiress sets her sights on a dashing ex-naval lieutenant, determined to win his heart as the two of them embark on a quest to solve a decades-old mystery in USA Today bestselling author Mimi Matthews’s sequel to her critically acclaimed novels The Work of Art and Gentleman Jim. Lieutenant Charles Heywood has had his fill of adventure. Battle-weary and disillusioned, he returns to England, resolved to settle down to a quiet, uneventful life on an estate of his own. But arranging to purchase the property he desires is more difficult than Charles ever imagined. The place is mired in secrets, some of which may prove deadly. If he’s going to unravel them, he’ll need the assistance of someone as daring as he is. At only twenty, Lady Katherine Beresford has already earned a scandalous reputation. As skilled with pistols as she is on horseback, she’s never met an obstacle she can’t surmount—or a man she can’t win. That is, until she encounters the infuriatingly somber Lieutenant Heywood. But Kate refuses to be deterred by the raven-haired soldier’s strong, silent facade. After all, faint heart never won handsome gentleman. From the wilds of rural Somersetshire to the glittering ballrooms of early-Victorian London, Charles and Kate embark on a cross-country quest to solve a decades’ old mystery. Will the greatest danger be to their hearts—or to their lives?

[belphgr]

Day 3 | 14.2.2023

WC: 504

Prompt: [by @/daily-prompts | no. 2042]

-

It hurt to have to do this, it really did- but they’ve mulled it over long enough. Weeks of lying in bed, rereading texts through their phone in the middle of the night as they thought about where to go with this weird situation-ship. But they’ve finally came to the conclusion that they didn’t feel comfortable and that this wasn’t going to lead to anywhere but to the edge of a cliff- a dead end, so they decided that ending things early on would be the best course of action.

As they drive to their girlfriend’s house, hands fidgeting on the steering wheel and eyes darting from the red light and the pedestrians walking across the street. Anything to try and distract themselves so as not to throw up, but their mind inevitably drifts to their supposed-partner and everything that led to… this. 

Her quirky mannerisms were the first thing that tipped them off; they thought it was kind of cute at first, so they didn’t think too much about it. But then more and more signs started to appear. The way she spoke about her family and close friends every time they were brought up, and those talks were increasingly rare. The type of books and movies she wouldn’t so much as look at if it had the word ‘sex’ in it. How there was always some sort of distance between them and her.

So they asked her about it and tried to talk it out. They just couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was something wrong, an ugly secret that’s desparately trying to stay hidden. But every time, the topic was brushed off like it was nothing. And maybe it was nothing, maybe they were just overreacting, maybe-

HONK!

A loud car horn jolted them out of their stupor. They raise hand in apology and drive away in embarrassment. After 10 minutes of, they’ve arrived at the porch of their soon-to-be-ex. They gulp down their nerves and take a few deep breaths. They can’t procrastinate this any longer.

They raise their hand and knock thrice.

knock knock knock

Much too soon, she opens the door, a big smile spreads across her face when she sees them.

This is going to be hard.

…

“I just don’t think it’s going to work out,”

“But we were so good together,”

“Yeah, but you’re in a cult,”

Whoops. They did not mean to say that so bluntly and… out of the blue. They were supposed to take it slow, prove that they weren’t hallucinating to her and to themselves if she tried to deny it.

“...What?”

They take a breath and let out a sigh. They’ll have to come clean.

“I uh– I know you’re in a cult,”

There’s a pregnant pause, before she lets out a laugh.

“You’re joking, right? What are you talking about-”

“I met your parents,”

Her eyes immediately widened at that, and she isn’t trying to hide it behind fake laughs like she usually does.

[altruistic-meme]

More thoughts bc i don’t have any self-control and the thoughts came back <3

OH MY GOD HOW DID I FORGET THE FIRST TIME!!! Charlie was literally invited to Harry’s party in the comics!!! And not by Nick–Nick asks him if he had been invited and Charlie says yes. More popular boy Charlie evidence. Harry doesn’t even seem to really like Charlie, but ofc he would want to invite the popular kid ig??? Idk. Maybe the whole school was invited, but in that case then Nick wouldn’t need to ask ya know???

BEN!!! I forgot about him too afkhsfkhdf he is another thing that I actually loved so much about the show. After the run-in at Harry’s party, we never actually see Ben again in the comics, and I kinda wish we had!! Maybe that’s influenced cus I watched the show first, but i love how him continuing to push and mess with Charlie continued to affect Charlie. I feel like it was maybe more needed in the show? Then in the comics? But I do wish we saw him ever again after the party in the comics. Especially with the dynamic that he and Charlie had in the comics! Where Charlie was already kinda just over him but still went to meet up with him anyway. The scene where Ben confronts Charlie about breaking things off was so so good but it felt almost incomplete in some way???? Like i said, i kind of wish we had seen him again in the comics.

I also didn’t mention that i do love all of the events in the show! Sports day and Prom specifically were so good and i feel like they added more visual fun and helped set up the season finales really well. 

Charlie’s self-esteem may be shit but my boy has got SOME NERVES OF STEEL. This was something I knew from just the show but the comics really prove it further. Like,,,, “would you kiss me?” I COULD N E V E R HAVE THE CONFIDENCE TO ASK THAT!!!! No wonder Nick says he made him more brave ;;;

The scene where Nick suggests Charlie writes out what he wants to say to his parents to talk about his ed??? I cry literally every time. This moment means so fucking much to me. I struggle a lot to actually talk about things, and this scene broke me because it’s so real. I’ve sent my mom emails bc i just could not get the words out trying to talk in person. 

And when Charlie is giving his half of what happened over the months in book 4, he mentions having another sh relapse in January and that also just. Ugh. It’s so good. Not that he had the relapse ofc, but that representation of how his recovery is not linear and he’s not fixed and perfect now. During Nick’s explanation on NYE, he says that Charlie hadn’t sh’d since October–and then we learn he does half a month after Nick writes that. It’s such a hard thing and he’s working hard to get through it but shit happens. 

OUGH i need to reread book 5 again bc i didn’t when i reread the others (it got late and i had work in the morning rip) but i also love how Charlie’s self-image issues grew and how he grew through them. It’s so interesting to me cus we’d seen Charlie in t-shirts before but in book 5 he just can’t anymore for a while. And then he does at the fete!! I was so proud of him!!!

Speaking of,,,, i’m so curious about where they are in the little s3 announcement ??? cus it says that it’s the fete like they have towards the end of book 5–plus Kit says things are getting more steamy which is ALSO something that doesn’t happen until book 5????? So i wonder what all is going on there??? Did they change things and s3 covers both books 4 AND 5??? Cus that seems like a lot to fit in to one 8 episode season (i am assuming it’ll be 8ep like s1+s2) and i’m just a little concerned ig?

Ok once again, thats it for now <3 trust that i will think of some more to add later

Okay i was originally going to try to make a nice and neat little post about heartstopper and some of my thoughts, as well as a separate post about what i like about the comics vs. the tv show. 

Uh. So. I can’t actually corral my thoughts to be coherent enough for that, so here are some various assorted thoughts about it all instead <3 put under a cut bc it is long and rambley and a mess

[spoiler warning for the comics if you haven't read them]

Idk what it is, but I love comic Charlie a LOT. Like. A LOT a lot. There is just something about his character in the comics, his banter, the way he behaves that I love so much more in the comics than the show. I feel almost like the characters aren’t quite the same person, though I do love them both. I just connected so much more with comic Charlie.

Semi-related but I also feel like we get a much more clear picture of his OCD and the attached anxieties in the comics. 

HMMM okay or maybe not. Idk. I think maybe we can see more of Charlie’s OCD in the show through his desire to make everything easy and perfect for Nick, even when it hurts him too. 

He’s popular in the comics!!! It’s mentioned multiple times by other characters that Charlie is popular at school!!! And I think that’s actually a really interesting look at his character. He was bullied for most of y9 and yet the rugby lads think he’s a popular kid in y10. Despite this, we don’t actually see Charlie interacting with basically anyone but the other main characters, and I think that kind of reflects how Charlie views himself. On the way back from Paris, he asks Nick “does this mean I’m a cool kid now?” he doesn’t think people see him as cool but like I said, other characters have said he’s popular. They must have gotten that idea from SOMEWHERE right? But Charlie’s own poor self-esteem means he still doesn’t actually believe he’s cool or that people like him. I don’t know if there was a point to this rant but. Charlie is a popular boy.

I WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE KIDS WHO STOPPED THE BULLYING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also, in the comics Charlie really is a nerd in a way he isn’t in the show. He helps Nick with his math and yells at him for distracting him from his homework. I get why this change happened in the show–it gives us a better idea of the strained relationship that Charlie has with his mom while also showing us that his dad tries to support him but often fails–but I really like it in the comics because Nick calls him a nerd but it’s less obvious in the show how nerdy he really is. 

That said obviously I also ADORE getting to explore the other characters and their lives and everything in the show. I love getting to see more of them. (But I also love how we DON’T always get all the information in the comics, but that’s just because I love when there are background stories happening that we don’t see through the main storyline. This event/love is not unique to Heartstopper) 

I love Imogen!!! I really like that it’s showing her as someone who is sort trying to become friends with the group and that isn’t always a fast or easy process. She goes to the sleepover with them and she hangs out with them in Paris, but she’s doesn’t leave Prom with them or anything. Also, I love the possibility that she is discovering that she’s queer too!! And that her halfway joining of their friend group leads to her discovering herself bc i feel like that’s so true to real life.

I am so curious about the Isaac vs. Aled thing and I wonder if Aled will appear in one of the later seasons, or if he is just not in the show at all. And Isaac! I assume he’s in some extra content I haven’t seen? Don’t get me wrong ofc, I love Isaac and his storyline is SO SO IMPORTANT as someone who is asexual myself. I am so glad that there is the representation of someone discovering that they’re aroace. I do assume that’s part of the reason for him being the 4th friend as opposed to Aled? Idk. 

I’M SO SAD ABOUT OLIVER BEING COMPLETELY OMITTED FROM THE SHOW!!! I assume there is an interview or something where Alice Oseman explains why Oliver wasn’t in the show, but I haven’t seen it and rn I will simply cry about it. I love him and I wish he had been included. 

I am also SO CURIOUS how the rest of the show will look!! I know that I read somewhere that s3 should be the contents of book 4, and that s4/s5 if they get them would be books 5/6 respectively. And I’m so intrigued. Because book 4 is the heaviest of them all so far, and I wonder how it will be translated to the screen. Especially the Sept-Dec timeskip! Will we see that time, especially considering the other character’s storylines??? This wasn’t an issue in the comics since they focus solely on Nick/Charlie, but with all of the other characters it would be more difficult to just skip that whole time. Will it just be a summary of events like in the comics, with flashes to what has happened? Or will we get a more explicit idea of everything?? (probably not including Charlie’s sh relapses or the night in October, but maybe the This Winter content???) i am SO excited for October though so all my questions can be answered :’)

OH something that was super interesting to me was a very small change in dialogue during the scene where Charlie first tells Nick about his sh. In the show, when Nick asks if he still does it Charlie just says “No.” but in the comics he says “No! I mean- hardly ever” and it’s such a small change but it speaks volumes too in the difference between the comic and the show. I’m not really sure what it’s saying though. Was show Charlie just more consistently in a better place where he feels like it’s stopped and won’t happen again? Was comic Charlie just more honest in this moment in acknowledging that it has still happened since? I’m not sure!!! But i’ve spent WAYYY too much time thinking about this one tiny change in dialogue!!!

Another thing is like, I really liked how the comics handled Nick’s dad. Them not meeting in Paris and then him missing Nick’s birthday. It really hits hard exactly how negligent he is, and it gives space for Charlie to be there for Nick when he’s upset. I do like how it went in the show as well, because it does still get everything across beautifully, but idk. I think mostly I’m just remembering the shot of Nick opening the door to greet Charlie on his birthday looking heartbroken and upset about his dad canceling and how hard that hit when i first read it. (keep in mind that i watched the show before reading the comics, so i was surprised at first to learn that they didn’t meet up in Paris! Let alone that he missed Nick’s birthday TOO!!)

Okay I think that’s it for right now. I have largely been spinning comic Charlie in the microwave in my mind bc OUGH i relate to him too much. I will probably come back at some point with more thoughts, but until then. Hope you enjoyed my brief insanity.