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katebeckets · 8 months ago

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the tortured poets department

i have thoughts!! surprising, right?? this is for anyone who cares to read them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Before you read, note that this is going to be critical of things, so let me just start by saying I have loved and listened to Taylor since I was 8, so none of it is said lightly or without careful thought (in fact, this took me absurdly long to write). Most of the issues I have are very near to my heart, actually, so I've spent a lot of time thinking about it. If you don't want to read criticism, then just don't read more. DISCLAIMER that I did my best, but not even this fully captures the nuance I feel able my own opinions lol I recognize the other sides and points, I really do. I hold many conflicting opinions.

The short version is I will always love her music and her voice and she is capable of writing absolutely gorgeous lyrics (dare I say poetry?). I don't tend to think too much about the sound of it because if I like the sound, it's all I really care about—maybe it sounds the same as other stuff, but if I like that other stuff, I don't really care about whether she branches out or not. I think it's great and interesting when she (or anyone) does, but I also don't like change so it doesn't matter to me the way I know it matters to some people. That's just me!

What gets more complicated for me is the narrative, themes, and general trends that have been more prominent the last year or so, and that's what the rest of my thoughts are. It's me enjoying the music while also being acutely aware of all the grief tangled up in it because of how much less connected I feel in many ways.

Side note: this got soooo much longer than even I expected and it still just scratches the surface! so if you decide to read, 1. thank you, and 2. I'd love to keep talking to you. 🤍

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I am an overthinker (shocking!) and will for sure be annoyed that I can't think of each and every thing I think about this album, but this is what comes to mind right now. Some things that have stood out to me more and more with each release:

a tendency to write self-aware lyrics that, in trying to be self-aware, betray somewhat of a lack of self-awareness

a frustration with never growing up that she expresses while also not realizing the way she is complicit in that and her own refusal to grow up

considering herself the victim, particularly after "overcoming" the accusations that she always plays the victim

venturing more boldly into the territory of serious mental illness/suicidal ideation/mental health treatment despite demonstrating a fair amount of ignorance regarding those things in the past

fame going to her head (in the sense of her becoming further and further out of touch) and the entitlement in a lot of the more immature attitudes that come across in these songs

self-awareness: for me, the first example that comes to mind is Anti-Hero: "it's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me." It's a claim at self-awareness because she's poking fun at the fact that she knows people always say "maybe she's the problem." The reason why it feels to me like it exposes a lack of self-awareness is because she explores it mostly as a criticism to overcome and not a valid point of self-reflection. @jakeperalta's tags on her post explain it better than I do. Yes, there's an issue when you reduce every feeling to "well maybe she's the problem," but part of growth is admitting that maybe you are part of the problem and coming to terms with the fact that there is often some inevitable truth to that statement—and being willing to work on it. This example is from Midnights, but I think it ties into the next point.

immaturity/never growing up: I actually think these first two sections are just two parts of one section, but it's easier to read this way anyway. There are lots of references to not growing up on this album, the first that come to mind being "So High School" and "teenage petulance." Maybe it's just me, but as a 34-year-old woman, I wouldn't want to be feeling "so high school." I mean, as a 25-year-old, when I talk about feeling like my high school self, it's usually because I'm recognizing how limited my judgment and self-awareness was in high school (despite all the therapy and my efforts to be self-aware in high school). And I am aware of my own bias here—I absolutely hate the football game days because I didn't even like watching people act like that in high school, but at least they were high schoolers—but I do think part of what we've seen is Travis allowing her to be more immature and take less responsibility because that's also where he is at. Obviously I don’t speak to it with any authority since I don't know what happened in the relationship, but based on her behaviors and what I know about Joe (which is VERY little), I kind of get the feeling that part of what she didn't like about being with Joe is that he pushed her to grow. "Your integrity makes me seem small," etc. etc., but not in an “I want to grow” way, but not liking that feeling because she shouldn't have to feel small just because she wants to be able to only do what makes her happy. Just looking at the difference in her behavior and the fact that it seems like she's stopped trying to learn (Miss Americana-ish), it seems like she very much resents the responsibility that comes with being such a famous person and mainly considers herself a victim of her fame.

victimhood: to an extent, yes, she is a victim of her fame. No one should have that much fame and power, and of course she didn't sign up for it in this way. But wanting to have the kind of influence and reach that most artists desire is intertwined with fame. There isn't a way to separate it (in an ideal world, maybe, but that isn't what we're dealing with) and it's something that, to some degree, artists do sign up for. And I think she resents that she's expected to take any sort of responsibility for anything that she doesn't want to do, in a very, "but that's not fair!," teenage petulance kind of way. She even says in Sweet Nothing that "I'm just too soft for all of it." We're all too soft for all of it, but that doesn't mean we get to ignore it. It bothers me that she doesn't seem to feel any sort of responsibility to use this giant platform to do better. Everyone is aware of her influence, including her. I think that's part of the grief. No, it is not her job to use her platform for good, but I thought that it was something she valued and something she wanted. The other line that really stuck out to me was from Cassandra: "They say what doesn't kill you makes you aware, what happens if it becomes who you are?" You may be a victim of what doesn't kill you, but if it becomes who you are, that's not their fault. It reminds me a bit of the exhaustion of living with mental illness. For me in particular, it affects my relationships in a very fundamental way, and there are days that I sob because I am exhausted of things that are so normal being so, so difficult for me... but even though I didn't ask for it and it's not fair that this happened to me, it's still my responsibility to understand how my issues affect how I show up in relationships. It's still my problem, even though it isn't my fault that it's my problem. And if you're lucky, you find really beautiful people who are willing to help you and see that it's not their responsibility, but they want to make it easier for you—I recognize how lucky I am to have some people like that, but it never makes it anyone else's problem. If they decide one day it's not their problem, the truth is that it isn't (and then there's a more complex conversation about what you want to do to preserve a relationship). This is also very connected to something about Kate Beckett/why I identify with that character, and I can touch on that if anyone wants to know, but I don't really have cohesive thoughts about that prepared (it makes more sense if you already know the character). This also goes to other things, like her being upset that people always focus on who songs are about while ignoring the part she played in feeding that culture (like with secret messages).

mental health: this goes to a bigger discussion of how we turn to celebrities who are HIGHLY unqualified to have opinions on things for guidance (the nuance of the above discussion about using your platform), but the more she ventures into the discussion of mental illness, the more upset I get by some remarks she has made in the past. And yes, people grow, she may not feel this way anymore, but nothing in her behavior gives me any reason to believe that she doesn't still have this attitude. This is one that I know I have to be careful of because of how personal it is for me (I've been placed on a 5150 "danger to self" hold and I am a therapist), but one interview that has always made me so upset is that one where she talks about how she's never been to therapy, then ends it by saying "I feel like we just had a therapy session." She has said multiple times how she has never wanted to go to therapy when she has her mom, who already knows everything about her. And that is highly irritating to me because 1. that's why she's your MOM, not your THERAPIST, and 2. there's already so much stigma and apprehension around therapy and many people feel this way, so to have someone like Taylor Swift validate all the people who say "I'd rather talk to someone who already knows me" or "so and so is my therapist" is unbelievably frustrating. There's a reason it's unethical to treat people you know—that isn't therapy. And I think I wouldn't be so bothered by it if she didn't speak about it with such authority, like she knows what she's talking about when what she's saying shows that she doesn't (edit: this is specifically in regard to therapy, not mental illness. I am highly aware that anyone can be mentally ill). The other thing about this album is that it does seem to be an album about loving people with mental illness, and I've already seen a lot of interpretations that simply feed the narrative that people with mental illness are unlovable and mental illness is the reason people mistreat you (particularly the discussion about her lovers being blue all the time). And the issue with that is it's already a common misconception among people with mental illness, that their mental illness is an excuse or reason why they don't treat people right. It's disrespectful to the people who recognize that they have a mental illness that affects how they interact with others and choose to try to overcome it. I'm all for honest discussions about mental illness, but it's so disheartening when it happens on such a large scale and some of the loudest voices are people who don't know enough to know how to (at least try to) do no harm.

fame: I'm not really going to go into it because this has already turned out way longer than I meant for it to, but also because I feel like it's already been touched on. For me, it's the conversation about her feeling she should be able to just do what she wants. I think we all feel that way, but because of her fame and the fact that she's just about untouchable (as shown in how she came back from being cancelled), she can just tune everyone out. But one example was how uneasy I felt about this album being announced at the grammys. For one thing, it's not a fan-voted award, so even if it should, it doesn't feel the same. And regardless of your take on award shows, I do think it showed a level of insensitivity to the other artists who haven't won a bunch of grammys to decide that she would announce a new album at the grammys. Because even if she had a backup plan and said she didn't plan on it, the truth is that, to decide to have a backup plan, you did have to count on it happening, at least to an extent. You had to feel it was likely enough that you wanted to have a back up plan just in case, but it probably would go the way you wanted. To me, it just felt so... disrespectful. Because for many other artists, it doesn't happen more than once. (not to mention the many other things happening that got completely overshadowed, like Annie Lennox calling for a ceasefire)

So if you read all that... I don't even know what the point is at this point. These are just thoughts that, to me, don't feel right to simply ignore. I know there's an argument that you can enjoy music without enjoying where it came from, and it's true to an extent, but I also think part of the music is where it comes from. So... I don't know. Do with that what you will. And if you are reading this, I love you (I can't believe you're reading this).

#ttpd #tswift #low key mutuals you might not want to read this

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serial-serializednovelreader · 5 months ago

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Nova’s Notes - Dracula Daily - July 27

In which Mina is even more anxious….

“No news from Jonathan. I am getting quite uneasy about him, though why I should I do not know; but I do wish that he would write, if it were only a single line.”

:(((((( it feels like Mina is almost bargaining here, asking for “only a single line” from him. I feel so bad for her because she cannot know what Jonathan is currently going through just to get home to her safely! It’s also sad because when I see this, all I can think of is the last line in his diary: “Goodbye, all! Mina!” The worst part is, she can’t even put her finger on why, her intuition is just telling her something is wrong and she should be worried. And it’s right.

“Lucy walks more than ever, and each night I am awakened by her moving about the room. Fortunately, the weather is so hot that she cannot get cold; but still the anxiety and the perpetually being wakened is beginning to tell on me, and I am getting nervous and wakeful myself. Thank God, Lucy's health keeps up.”

Yikes, that would definitely make me anxious if I was constantly being awoken by someone pacing around the room, compounded with my anxiety for my fiancé. But what can Mina do except try to sleep the best she can? And through it all, she’s only worried about Lucy’s health and how this could be affecting her. I love Mina so much, she’s so selfless. I just want her to be ok too, though. Who’s looking out for her? :(

“Mr. Holmwood has been suddenly called to Ring to see his father, who has been taken seriously ill. Lucy frets at the postponement of seeing him, but it does not touch her looks; she is a trifle stouter, and her cheeks are a lovely rose-pink. She has lost that anæmic look which she had. I pray it will all last.”

Oh, no!! Again, poor Arthur. I’m sure he hoped it wouldn’t be too serious and now his father has taken a turn for the worse. I know it may seem shallow of Lucy to worry about the postponement, but I think I can explain her logic:

1. She might be covering up her worry for Arthur’s dad and Arthur’s mental health by making it about something else. That might seem strange, but I think it’s possible that she might want to think about/talk about something more trivial than her concrete worries about her future father-in-law’s health and how her fiancé will take this sudden turn in his health. The more time she’s worrying about when she’ll see him again, the less time she’ll worry about how he’s doing emotionally (not the best coping mechanism, but I’ve seen it — and done it — before).

2. If she can’t see Arthur, she can’t comfort him. Letters can only do so much. :(

3. Deep down, she may be insecure about her place with Arthur. What if he doesn’t love her as much as he says/she dares hope? What if he decides to cancel the engagement after he sees to his father since they haven’t seen each other in a while? It may not have even been that long, but that doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. I don’t think this is a case of Arthur not demonstrating his love to her enough, but rather her own anxiety taking over her thoughts.

Concerning that she had an anæmic look, but I’m honestly not worried about this — I think she was just worrying and she looked a bit pale because of this (I could go into why I’m not concerned, but that’s verging on spoilers — let’s just say I think Lucy’s fine, just worried).

This last sentence breaks my heart a bit for Mina because she’s not just talking about Lucy’s healthy looks here. She knows lots of things are on the verge of changing: Lucy’s health while sleep-walking (she could catch a cold or get outside!!), Jonathan’s health (what if something bad has happened to him — or what if he’s changed his mind too 😳), and Arthur’s father’s health. Her intuition is saying that something is wrong here, but obviously she can’t confide to Lucy. Two-thirds of those worries are things that would worry Lucy further and the last point with Jonathan would only add a new burden. Besides, it might make the possibility of Jonathan in bad health (or worse) too real, if that makes sense. Hopefully, things will look up soon.

That’s it for this one!

#mina murray #lucy westenra #arthur holmwood #jonathan harker #dracula daily #dracula #novas notes

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vickyvicarious · 4 months ago

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I wonder if Mr Hawkins hides a more serious condition too, he says he cannot go to the Castle because of gout so he sent Jonathan, and he also sends Mina unchaperoned (granted, he's not her father, but the closest she has) overseas, presumably because of the same issue. But so far those who hide their own illness are women.

You may well be onto something. Certainly, parental figures appear to be dropping like flies, at least into illness. And certainly, Mr. Hawkins doesn't seem well enough to travel despite presumably having originally planned to do so when he first accepted Dracula as a client.

From what I understand, gout itself is not often fatal at first, but it's likely to recur or become chronic, in which case it can increase your risk of other issues developing and can become fatal. So he wouldn't necessarily need to be hiding anything about what he has, except possibly how bad it's getting, for this to hint that he's on his way out too.

Your note about the gendered divide of hiding their own illness is interesting. I would be more inclined to point to them being Westenras, but certainly there is an element of it being easier for men, who are seen as more generally 'capable' (for lack of a better term), to admit to being ill or injured in some way. That said, it's a recurring theme that all sorts of people don't mention how bad things are with them. We see it with both the Westenra women with their illnesses, but also with Mina not admitting to the great stress she was under until she was pushed to the brink. Jonathan understated his distress a fair bit, and this seems normal for him. Jack withdrew from his friends when he was feeling depressed, and didn't seek them out to open up about his mental state. I recognize this is getting away from physical ailments, but it still feels relevant.

Another factor to consider is the relationship/circumstances, particularly for these parental figures. Mrs. Westenra is a widow who is eager to see her daughter married off to someone who can "take care of her"; she infantilizes Lucy and doesn't think she could handle the news, as well as not wanting to ruin her excitement for the wedding. I also think she personally doesn't want to have to deal with Lucy grieving for her, and would rather just pretend everything's fine because it is more comfortable for her. It seems like keeping up pretenses has been the modus operandi for her, and so that fits too. It makes sense as well that Lucy, having learned from her mother, would tend in the same direction.

If Arthur is anything to judge by, then his father is more likely to be open about his condition - both physically and emotionally. It also doesn't sound like his illness is much of a surprise based on how it has been mentioned, though the degree to which it worsens is unpredictable. I could imagine him as an older man, possibly with some chronic condition that they've both known about for a while, but which is getting worse at an unexpectedly rapid rate. I suspect he's hoping to hang on to see the wedding but both Arthur and he know it may not happen. He's also an important person, and he may need Arthur not only to be by his side for sentimental reasons, but in an effort to explain/pass over whatever he can before it's too late.

Mr. Hawkins is no one's father, but he does seem to fulfill something approaching that role for both Mina and Jonathan (though they seem more professional overall so far). If his illness is on the serious side, then him not mentioning it would make sense in the context of him not wanting to distress her any more than she already is about Jonathan. I also think he feels quite guilty about what happened to Jonathan 'on his watch'/in his place, particularly since it seems like he's been proud of teaching Jonathan as a sort of protege (the introductory letter might be bragging in a show for the client, but I choose to see it as honestly meant brags) and may feel a level of fatherly affection towards him. I think the circumstances would combine to make him more likely to feel more affectionate/indulgent towards both of them, and less likely to admit to any more serious health conditions. They're dealing with enough already (the thing everyone thinks), that sort of thing.

#dracula daily #mr. hawkins #mrs. westenra #lord godalming #obviously i'm writing this with the context of knowing how everything turns out but i think this is all something you can see at this point #of the story without having to get into any spoiler territory #anonymous #replies

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kuronanox · 2 months ago

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Hanahaki My Love - Muguruma Kensei

(Author note: this the longest one shot I've ever written ;-; I'm so sorry for the wait. I wanted to make sure I was satisfied with the story. Although I felt the ending to be rushed a little I think everyone will enjoy it! Please read with caution there is a smudge of nsfw and angst! I wanted to make yall suffer with me fyi)

To live a grey life was to hold on to feelings and emotions, never having the ability to let go even if you wanted to. There was no color in the way (Your Name) saw the world around her, especially since this painful sickness had taken over her body a month ago. She use to think it was okay if Kensei was with someone else besides her as long as they remained good friends. Although that wasn't the case, her own heart was falling apart. Her mind telling her 'it's okay to let go' or 'there is more joy in other things' but in her heart there was nothing.

She laid naked and deep in thought as she coughed, her lungs hurt and peddle came out. The pain felt like glass cutting through her throat till it was raw and bleeding. Most days were manageable, when she didn't see Kensei and his fiancé. (Your Name) was usually in better health but on certain days when she happen to cross path with him was when her illness acted up and she would have to swallow all her pride not to scream at Kensei.

(Your Name) wanted to yell things to him such as 'you stupid bastard can't you see I'm the one who stood by you all these years' or 'you are the root to my illness but you can also fix it'. She knew by saying those things it would be selfish of her. She could never make someone love her even though it was painful wishing for it. Since sleep did not take over her body today (Your Name) checked her phone to see a few messages from friends, none to which excited her. Most of it was checking up on how she was feeling and her health. Her eyes widen as one did catch her attention, it was from Kensei.

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" She read his message out loud. And then she scoffed and threw her phone on the other side of the bed to fall back asleep. Unbeknown to her Kensei would be knocking rage on her door early that morning.

"Get your ass up now (Your Name), I'm not playing." She heard his gruff voice coming south of her body as her feet were nudged lightly to get her attention. There was a whine that escaped her mouth as she rolled into the bed, her bare back and ass in full display as Kensei brow knitted in confusion as if he should look away or throw the covers on her. He choose to throw the covers on her.

"What do you want so early in the morning, meathead!" (Your Name) jerked forward from her sheets, exposing her breast and harden nipples from the cool air. Kensei looks away and she was hurt but decided to leave the bed and throw on a robe. "You never responded to my message." He replies giving her a proper look watching as she ignored his stares, not that they held any longing that she wanted from him anyways.

(Your name) walked through her bedroom down to the kitchen to start coffee as she ignored his statement. There was no way in hell she was gonna tell him about her illness, disease, problems.

The frustration grew on Kensei forehead as a vein popped out, he followed her to the kitchen as he slammed a fist onto her counter causing (Your Name) to flinch before turning his way again. "It was a mild fever that's all." She lied and offered him the black coffee before taking a seat across his very angry face.

"You lie." He says but continued "don't hide things from me, I know it's serious if you haven't been to work for a week now." (Your Name) mentally rolled her eyes but at the same time those coughs were threatening to show itself to him as she held her breath to stop it from coming out.

"Why does it matter to you? I'm on medication. There are you happy?" The shaking in her voice threatening to show signs of weakness as she looked down in guilt.

Kensei was in disbelief, his life long friend was holding secrets from him and one that was very serious to her health. He wanted to be there for her, help her and make sure she was gonna be alright. The (Your Name) he was conversing with looked like a ghost in a shell, her body had become thin, and her reflection pale. Eyes were sulking as well as her attitude towards him was that of a child.

"Well I'm sorry if I wanted to worry about you. You're my friend." Kensei says to her, she did catch the hint of sadness and disappointment but pettiness took over her lips. "Stop worrying about me and worry about your fiancé Kensei, no good will happen if you worry about another women."

There was an awkward silence between them as (Your Name) looked towards the window and Kensei was looking down at his fist now. They both thought this was it, there was a certain boundary in their friendship and of course he was the one pushing it. To Kensei it seemed as (Your Name) never tried.

"I'll see you around." He says roughly and leaves. She looked at his back leaving and then threw her coffee mug against the wall. Tears were threaten to spill as she started to have a coughing fit. Without having any control of her body she fell to the floor in a hurling position covering her mouth that was dripping red of blood and of little peddles.

"When will this illness go away?" She asked Unohana as she went for a check up for her health and of course medicine to heal the pain in her throat. The older lady gave (Your Name) a sympathetic look, there was hesitation in the captains face before she chose her words wisely.

"Unfortunately the other few cases with this disease had left the patient to pass away, there is no time limit for the disease and it can consume you whole.... though I advise you if there is something or someone causing you to feel this immense pain... to let it go. Maybe then you will return back to normal." Unohana voice was gentle and soft, she look a bit sad to have to tell (Your Name) the tragedy of it all. The doctor knew best though, in all her lifetime no one has ever survived or at least none that Unohana knew of.

"I see, thank you." (Your Name) says in a ghostly manner as she left squad 4 feeling even more depressed than she was this past month. Life threw a curve ball and wanted her to suffer for it. On her walk back she bumped into someone causing a bag of groceries to fall onto the ground.

"Oh my (Your Name) I'm so sorry!"

It really was her unlucky day as she met eyes with Kensei finance, she was gorgeous, had a beautiful face and amazing figure. Her voice was the sound of silk and flowers. (Your Name) winced at the thought before squatting down to pick up the food that had fallen. "Please join us for dinner tonight, me and Kensei are grilling up some A5 wagyu!" She wanted to kill herself at that moment, Kensei fiancé bare no bad intentions towards her but (Your Name) couldn't help but hate everything about this women. "Im fine, thank you for the invite. Maybe next time."

Kensei fiancé insisted grabbing (Your Name) arm dragging her towards the 9th squad. "Please! Kensei has been worried sick for you and he misses you-"

Those words burned (Your Name) heart, she felt a red hot fury past into her as she snatch her arm back and yelled "Don't say those thi-" she stopped herself before correcting her tone of voice, her breath evening out. "I mean, don't say that! I can't ruin yours guys dinner date!" She says jokingly... right jokingly. Before Kensei fiancé could protest again (Your Name) bid a fast farewell and walked back to her squad quickly to avoid anymore attention they may had drawn. The house was cold again and she like the house feeling cold. Why bother turning on the heater. It was the beginning of winter but she felt as if it didn't matter. Nothing was going to cure her disease anyways. The buzzing of her phone caught her attention. Mashiro and Shuhei wanted her to join them for dinner.

(Your Name) didn't mind, they were a good distraction and good company. The trio met around 8 at a local bar that sold food and drinks. There was a few people playing instruments on the stage allowing for a upbeat atmosphere. "Beautiful as always." Shuhei compliments her as he held the door open for the two ladies. Mashiro snickered at the compliment before picking the seats for them. "Thank you sweet boy, you're still to young for me." (Your Name) says to Shuhei before winking.

They decided on getting ramen and pork sticks before picking up a few sake bottles and beers. It was one of those nights she guessed. Mashiro didn't seem like the one to drink and she knew how Shuhei was with alcohol. Maybe Kensei was in a bad mood causing the lieutenant's wanting a fun night out. "So when will you return to work?" Shuhei asks as he build them a sake bomb for the first round. "Probably soon, in a few more days. I'm enjoying vacation still."

"Vacation my ass, we rarely get work days off." Mashiro butts in as Shuhei elbowed her on the side. (Your Name) eyes widen at the statement before laughing, she didn't take any offense to the comment. Well she knew they probably guessed her and Kensei weren't on the best terms right now. "Awe is big ole daddy stressing you guys out?" she coes to Mashiro jokingly as the seat next to her gets occupid.

"Who are you calling big ole daddy?"

(Your Name) faced whipped to her left to find Kensei staring at her with amusement. She cleared her throat before throwing Shuhei and Mashiro a accusing look. The pair decided to help each other make the drinks avoiding her eyes. She couldn't be upset with them even if she wanted to. In her heart she knew they meant well.

"OH! So you guys are fighting." Mashiro continues to say, the girl had no filter with her mouth. The adults, Kensei and (Your Name) ignored her comment. It was going to be a rodeo tonight. It was either (Your Name) lashing out on Kensei or they would all enjoy the night. She preferred to enjoy the night. Shuhei passed all the drinks out as they all drank on the count of three. The atmosphere was nice mostly except Mashiro and Kensei bickering but that was usual between them. "Shuhei why don't you go up the stage and play the guitar!" (Your Name) says pointing towards the emptiness of other shinigami leaving it.

The younger man couldn't refuse, he wanted to show off his guitar skills to his captain and longest friend. As Shuhei went on stage to play some songs Mashiro danced along with (Your Name) as they laughed and held each other. Kensei couldn't help but have a soft smile on his face. She looked at ease, she looked happy and even a little more healthy. He thought she was getting better. A hand on her head stopped her from dancing as she looked up to Kensei and he used his head to show the direction of his request. The small bar across the room. Agreeing to his request they left Shuhei and Mashiro together.

"What's wrong?" (Your Name) asks with worry in her eyes. Kensei opens a stool for her to take a seat as he followed after. "I wanted alone time, those two knew we were fighting and set this whole dinner bar thing. I told them no but..."

(Your Name) gives him a sympathetic look and holds his hand lightly giving it a small squeeze of encouragement. "I could never stay mad at you for long Ken. We've been each other rocks for many years. A small petty fight won't change anything."

Kensei sighed in relief, maybe he didn't need his lieutenant's help but at the same time there were periods of time when he couldn't recognize the person (Your Name) had become. She would lash out on him or simply ignore him. He couldn't figure her out anymore and that frustrated him. Kensei didn't know how to tell her and he wasn't going to ruin her night. "Will you let me walk you home tonight, I don't want creeps lurking after you."

There was hesitation on her face when Kensei asked that request. She didn't want to be alone with him, no she couldn't be alone with him. "I'm okay, I can manage. Plus it's not like I'm all that attracting that someone would follow me." He knitted his brows in annoyance and held her hand tighter. "I insist a beautiful women shouldn't walk alone at night. Especially you." Kensei points out and he couldn't read what her thought were, but she silently agreed before making her way back to the stage to watch Shuhei.

The night came to an end with a very drunk Mashiro since she was with the drinks most the night and a tipsy (Your Name). Of course Shuhei knew it was his job to get the annoying girl home safe. He sighs as Mashiro complained on the way out. Shuhei gave Kensei a nod before the two left. The night was chilly as Kensei and (Your Name) left right after. He was bundled under a sweater and scarf, she was wearing a long dress. On the beginning of the walk he put his scarf on her. She blushed lightly but didn't show. Because of all the alcohol she coughed wanting to throw it all up, her body refused to hold it in as she used her hand to cover any evidence it might show.

"No no don't cough, kensei will lose his marbles and start questioning me."

The walk was silent and she looked towards his ring finger. Her heart was yearning, aching and numb. The thought that Kensei and his fiance would share forever with each other actually made her puke as she fell to the floor onto her knees and threw up. "(Your Name)!" He shouts as she pushed him away swallowing the remainder of it but it did her no good as there was a mixture of food, drinks and blood. "I'm fine." she states but Kensei refused to let her go and looks at her in worry. He knew something was up, drunk people don't throw up blood.

He shunpo them back to her place and took the spare keys out of his jacket. "I knew it jackass, you still have the keys to my place." She laughs now and of course it was the last remaining alcohol that was still in her system. "How can you laugh in this situation?" Kensei asks frustrated she didn't seem to care. (Your Name) gave a big sigh as she stripped out of the dress throwing it somewhere in the living room. After she opened the fridge, it was practically empty but she found what she was looking for. A new bottle of sake.

"Because why not?" There was a cold tone under her amusement as Kensei stalked towards her. His breath fanning her face as she scrunched her face and pushed him away. "Ugh you reek of alcohol."

"I don't care, explain to me what's going on." he persisted as she dropped down to the couch and took a swing of the sake. He could tell she wasn't going to give in the argument. Fine he would force it out of her. Taking a seat next to her he took the bottle and set it down. "You are killing yourself." he calmly states as she glares back at him with anger.

"What happens to my body is none of your concern Kensei, mind your own fucking business and let me deal with it alone." She was angry, he could tell. (Your Name) rarely cussed and when she did that means business was business. Kensei couldn't bear to see her destroy herself, he wanted to throw the table, fuck up the kitchen even fuck her silly to see she is loved by him. "Don't do this (Your Name) let me help you." he begged grabbing her waist to scoot her closer to him but she retaliated and threw his scarf towards his face.

"Don't touch me." she coldly says making her way towards the bedroom. Kensei followed worried she might harm her body from the drunkness that was now taking over her body. He slightly grabbed for the arm before she turned around and yelled. "Don't fucking touc-" the flowers were coming up her throat as she threw a coughing fit. Her body shaking and hurling. The pain to intense that tears fell from her eyes as she looked down to see her hands covered in red. She was frozen as Kensei princess carried her into the bath tub to bathe her body.

The thought of him seeing her in this situation made it worse as she broke down in a sob fighting him in the shower to leave her alone but he stayed silent and refused any of her request. Even when she screamed and threw things at him, Kensei let her throw a tantrum. He dressed her and gave her water, made sure she had no cuts or bruises before taking her into bed.

The last thing (Your Name) confessed to him that night was that the disease had no cure and she would die soon.

As she drifted asleep, Kensei arms wrapped around her body tightly making sure she wouldn't leave his grasp. He felt at odds with her confession earlier that evening. He had convinced himself that she was purely drunk and pulling an excuse out of her ass.

"(Your Name) please be joking." He begged to himself as he inhaled her scent from her shoulders to neck cuddling his head between them. Kensei was afraid to lose her, death was inevitable in their line of work but something about losing her drove him mad. He was wary. He knew he shouldn't be sleeping in another womens bed but it was not any random women. It was (Your Name)

(Your Name) was up before the sun had risen, her body was sore and she still felt woozy. With a sigh she tried to move from the bed but Kensei body was locked against hers. A warm flush brushed against her cheeks as she turned his direction and examined his face. His scowl was no longer there, his face was relaxed and his hair down. She smiled softly while brushing some of his hair away from his face. He twitched a little from the sensation but ultimately gave into her touch pulling her even closer.

"Kensei you have to get up." She whispers, and she felt guilt in her chest. This was wrong of them to do, but it didn't feel wrong. The feeling of his arms caged around her body and his natural scent drove her crazy, she couldn't think straight. This was all she ever wanted and it's now here in her arms. (Your Name) could be selfish, for once she could and she wouldn't regret it. If death was to take her soon then she wished to have him once.

Nuzzling her head against his chest gave her comfort as she drew little pictures around his abdomen, letting Kensei rest while she contemplated what to do now that her secret was out. (Your Name) was lost in thoughts when she felt callous hands engulf hers. She looked up to Kensei as he slowly open his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" His voice was gruff, it was low and it sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn't remember a time when they were this close.

"Fine." She softly says lifting her body away from him but he still had her caged. There was an awkward silence between them. "I want to apologize for last night." She continued relaxing into his touch once again.

"It's fine, just making sure you will be alright." Kensei says as (Your Name) winced at his statement, the aching in her chest and throat already beginning to arise as she gently pushed herself off him. Her sudden movement alerted Kensei as he pulled her back into him. "Let me help you." He begs laying his head on her shoulder, he would do anything to keep her alive. "Name it and I'll do it."

(Your Name) held herself, knees close to her chest as she kept her eyes close. She did enough crying, she was tired of crying. The sensual touches and pleading voice of his made it worse for her to compose herself. She just wanted him.

"I just want you." She whispers painfully as her voice cracks, she locked eyes with him. He couldn't read them clearly. They were a mix of pain, sadness and longing. A sense of guilt washed upon Kensei has he lifted her chin up. He knew his next actions would be unforgivable but he wanted her right now. She wanted him. The consequences would come after.

Slowly they inched their mouths to one another letting the kiss settle in as (Your Name) gasp but Kensei took that opportunity to move deeper into her sighing into her touch. His hands grabbed onto the plush of her waist as he caressed all the curves her body held. Her hands went straight to his hair begging for him to give her more. Their tongue entertained each other as she moaned into him. "Please more." She begged as he lifted her into his lap making his way to her neck sucking on her sweet spot as she moaned and rolled her hips against him. Kensei took turns on sucking and biting her sweet spot giving her a taste of estacy waiting to be released. His hands on her ass massaging them apart.

"Shit you're driving me crazy." He groans as she grind her hips more needy and whines wanting for him to bite her sweet spot again but Kensei refused and slid her shirt off massaging her perfect tits in his face and he moaned taking them into view. He imaged them full of milk and leaking as he took one into his hot mouth swirling the little buds. "Pretty little ladies waiting to be drank from baby." He groaned into her as she whined rubbing harder into his bulge wanting it deeper into her core. "Please kensei suck on them more." Her voice raspy as she looked down towards him watching Kensei smush her tits together swirling on her nipples on one go. (Your Name) didn't think that was possible but oh how she felt so wet right now watching Kensei suck on her pretty tits as he was a starved man.

Slapping her ass Kensei flipped her onto her stomach and probing her ass in full display. "You won't be needing these babe." He says while ripping her underwear in two pieces. She gasped as the cool air brushed against her most intimate area.

Kensei couldn't tell what brought this upon them but he was so painfully hard watching her slick pussy asking to be eaten out and oh he would, he would eat her out till she was crying and begging for him.

Anticipation ran through her body as she shook her ass swaying them as a invitation to him. Kensei grabbed each cheek and threw a spit on her clit before lapping her clit on his tongue. "Yes." She sighed "please."

His warm tongue played with her clit as he switched from sucking and swirling circles. Kensei couldn't get enough of her taste, her wetness melting into his mouth as he moaned into her pussy causing the vibration to shiver up to her burning core. "I'm going to do something so don't freak out." He states as she halted herself and stared back at him. He looked feral, he looked hungry. "Okay." She agrees and smiles softly.

Kensei kissed each side of her ass cheeks before spreading them apart and kissing her little hole. She jolted from surprise as he held onto her. " 'so kay baby, let me take care of you." He whispers as she relaxed her body and he slowly drew saliva onto her pretty little hole. Diving his tongue to rim her ass she moaned into the sheets. He smirked and continue to lick her ass while rubbing circles on her clit. "Oh Kensei." She whines as he hummed in response. "Feels good baby?"

"Yes feels so good." She says as he alternated between licking her clit all the way up to her ass. After making sure (Your Name) was wet enough he slipped two fingers into her cunt making her moan. "Oh fuck yes more." She plead as he pumped his fingers into her while eating her ass out.

"Didn't know you were so dirty." Kensei smirks as he slaps her cheeks once more before pumping his cock a few times.

"Of course you wouldn't." She says with sass and he tilts his head in confusion before giving her clit one last kiss. Kensei was painfully hard now that he just wanted to fuck her silly for all that mouth she was giving him. "Condom?" She asks and he shakes his head in delusion. No he wanted her now, needed her cunt squishing his dick like he needed air.

"It's fine Kensei I trust you." She says giving him a genuine smile of trust between the two.

He couldn't help but chuckle at her, of course she trusted him. They were life long friends after all.

"Hold still babe." He whispers as he inched himself into her and she moan softly into the sheets. He could get lost in her but Kensei wanted to make sure she was not in pain.

"More you dickhead!" She complained under him as he slammed his hips into hers and she groaned. He bullied his cock into her pussy until she was moaning so load the whole seireitei would wake up to it.

His grip on her hips bruised as her eyes rolled back and he took a fistful of her hair pulling her up to meet his rhythm. "Tell me you always wanted this? Tell me you always wanted me." His voice husk into her ears as she moved her hips more into him.

"Yes I've always wanted you." She cries out as he flips them over into a mating press. Her eyes are closed, she can feel him everywhere. She can feel his warmth, his breath, his dick abusing her insides. (Your Name) wants this to last forever.

Kensei gives her a sensual kiss onto her lips as his hips slow a little but still enough force to feel everything. She opens her eyes to meet his. Kensei eyes look sad, he looks torn. They meet foreheads as he groaned when her nails claw his back lightly. "Fuck, you drive me crazy." He says inching his face into her neck biting her sweet spot again before picking up the pace.

"Please don't stop." (Your Name) moans as he helped her ride through her orgasm before chasing his.

There body stilled for a moment before he lightly slumped down onto her, cuddling into her naked chest.

"I'm sorry, we shouldn't have done that." She quietly whispers trying to pry his body off hers. He grunts and lets her move.

"I don't regret it." He says watching her head to the bathroom.

(Your Name) could cry, of happy tears and sad ones. It was too late for him to make her his. He was too late to confess his love, his regrets, his decision to marry another woman. She throws him a rag before taking a shower.

While in the shower she scrubbed her body so hard her body turned red, she felt gross, she felt like a whore, an attention seeker. She cried and cried until the bathroom door swung open and Kensei rushed to her figure taking her hands away. "(Your Name)!" He shouts as she cried with her head hanging low.

"I can't do this no more Kensei, please leave me alone." She yells as he made room for himself taking her body into an embrace. She clung to him, clung onto him as if this was the last time she would be able to touch him.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Kensei chants to her cuddling her body into his.

After a while she finally stopped crying and decided to get out the shower. Kensei was right next to her trailing before his phone rang and she tilted her head to see if he would answer. She knew it was his fiancé.

"It's okay, you should go now."

Kensei had a nagging feeling this was a goodbye like this was a make or break situation and he didn't know what to do. "I won't leave. Not until you tell me how to cure your disease."

Anger flared into her face as she slapped him in the face. "Stop shitting me right now Kensei! I told you already there is no cure! I'll die and you will live your happy little life with your fiance! That's how it was meant to be and how it's suppose to be!"

With her little tantrum she took his clothes and phone throwing them out her door for the whole seireitei to see if they walked by.

"Get the hell out, this is the last time you will see me." She threatens before slamming the door.

Kensei was stunned from her actions before he angrily left, he didn't go home. He went straight to the fourth squad.

"I'm here to see Unohana." He rudely says to a squad member before they ran with a tail between their legs to find Unohana Taicho.

"I wasn't expecting to see you Muguruma Taicho." She softly smiles leading him into her office. He was annoyed and angry but mostly towards the situation not because of (Your Name) temper tantrum.

"I know patients have rights to have their information kept secret but Im here to ask about (Your Name)." He explains to the older women and she already knew he would come once he found out of the disease.

"Must had a fun night." She muses staring at his love bite before he looked away in annoyance. "But yes, her records are private I can't give you that information."

Kensei cursed under his breath he didn't want to cause a scene in someone else's barrack and he had very little patience left in him. Unohana could see his exterior cracking as she sighs.

"Her disease is called Hanahaki, her lungs grow flowers until she can't breathe anymore. The cause is because of unrequited love Muguruma Taicho. Perhaps someone she loves dearly couldn't return the feelings. This disease is very rare and usually the patient is to loving to let go that they die from heartbreak." Unohana emphasizes to Kensei with a keen eye to make sure he understood what she meant.

There was no telling on Kensei expression as he nodded his head in regret trying to process the information that was straightforwardly thrown at him. "So there's no cure?" He asks swallowing but his throat was dry.

"Do you love her?"

"Yes!" He says quickly and defensively. Unohana could only chuckle as she walked away.

"Well there is your answer Muguruma Taicho, good day."

(Your Name) didn't hear from Kensei for the next month. She knew it was for the best. Walking back from the store she sees his fiancé. She groaned under her breath and hid her face to walk past but ultimately his fiancé saw her.

"(Your Name)! Long time no see!" She cheerfully says giving her a hug. (Your Name) hugs her back softly and cleared her throat. "Um how are you?" She asks Kensei fiancé trying her hardest to be nice but only guilt held her heart.

"You didn't hear? We aren't together no more." She whips her hand up to see her ring finger empty. Guilt was definitely eating her up right now as she had tears threatening to spill over.

Kensei ex fiancé now gave her a sympathetic look before taking (Your Name) hands in hers. "Don't feel guilty about anything. I know what happened that night. I've always known.... I was second in his heart. There were times when I hated you. I really did for a time but I couldn't hate you. You've always made him special. He left me the day after. (Your Name) be happy." She softly says before taking her leave but she must have also been heart broken too (Your Name) thought staring back at the beautiful lady who held her head high and walked with grace. She indeed was a strong lady and (Your Name) felt envy because she was also a good woman.

Walking home with empty thoughts in her head she didn't notice her lights on. Her head still hanging low. She couldn't process if she was happy or sad. The lady, Kensei ex fiancé forgave her and even wanted her to be with him.

"Took you long enough to get home." Kensei gruff voice awoken her senses as she closed her door softly.

"Hey." She says softly setting her bag down making her way to the kitchen where he had food laid out.

"I-" he starts to say but stops midway. He didn't see her for a month, the longest ever since they became friends long ago.

"I saw her, your ex. I'm sorry." (Your Name) starts but Kensei could only give her a hum while plating her dinner. "Did you love her?"

There was silence in the room as he thought if he loved her. He thought he did or until he was threaten you would leave him forever. "I did for a time, thought you never liked me so I moved on. I realized I couldn't love her wholeheartedly though but I still stuck around. It wasn't until I heard you were dying that I messed up, I was too late. If I can fix us now I will (Your Name)." Kensei say's uncharacteristically to her without much of an expression of discomfort but that of regrets and longing.

(Your Name) could only giggle softly at his face. Those expressions were not made for him. "Yeah I guess so." She says taking his hand into hers. "But there's still a lot of healing to do." She continued as he held her hand back with more pressure.

"I'll do anything, I'll make you the happiest and make up for loss time." Kensei confesses as he left small peppered kisses on her knuckles.

"Stop, I love you for you. We've had miscommunication before but now that we are here together, you don't have to change a thing. I want you for you."

Kensei could only pull her into a hug sighing with relief that he had his (Your name) back. How he wished he confessed to her in his younger days. "I love you." He says as she smiles into his hug.

Her home felt like home again.

(Authors note: you guys thought I'd make yall suffer haha I'm not that cold hearted! But thank you to everyone who voted and comment on my book it means a lot even if my updates are now millions of years away! I was thinking the next one shot will be Grimmjow! Since the anime is back I've been missing my big ole kitty cat!)

#bleach #bleach x reader #bleach imagines #kensei muguruma #Muguruma Kensei #Unohana #hisagi shuhei #shuhei hisagi #mashiro kuna #bleach oneshot #bleach kensei #kensei #kensei x reader

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ryuzakemo128 · 4 months ago

Text

Demons in my head, Angels in my eyes

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Cello Player/ Visual Artist! You, Female Reader x Chrissy Cunningham

Content Warning: Mental Illness mentioned and embedded into it. Like Depression, Synaesthesia, and PTSD. Suicide Ideation also heavily referenced.

Words: 2525

Note: This is going to be pretty depressing. I even cried a few times in writing this. So be careful when you read it. You might need a box of tissues with you. Part 2 Coming soon.

Masterlist

Credit for Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

You were more likely to die young according to Chrissy and Eddie through a conversation you accidentally overheard once. It felt like they wanted you to die before you reached the age of twenty-one. You wore a crimson red turtleneck with a cardigan draped over your shoulders. The one which you bought from a thrift store last weekend.

The scarf you put on matched your cardigan, both in colour and in style. You embroidered ‘Life’s a bitch, and then you die.’ Into the back of your cardigan in cursive. You bought it with the intent on adding small embellishments to it. You added three things to it, you haven’t found any buttons you liked to replace the old ones. Which you’re still mentally kicking yourself over.

You walked to your recital, which would happen during the lunch break. You were not looking forward to it either. The quicker this was done, the sooner you wanted to go home early for the day. Eddie and Chrissy spotted you getting ready for it, the bandages on your arms indicating a path of self-destructive tendencies.

Chrissy leaned in closer to Eddie, whispering something into his ear that made him chuckle darkly. You felt your heart sink, knowing that your secret was out. They had seen your battle with mental illness, a silent war you had been fighting since you were six. The whispers grew louder as you took the stage, the cello between your legs.

Your knees trembled as you placed the bow to the strings, the whispers transforming into a cacophony of doubt in your mind. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and let the music take over. The cello sang out a melody that spoke of your soul's deepest turmoil, the notes resonating with the pain you held inside.

The song piece you decided to play was called 'Melancholy Nocturne'. It was one of your favourite pieces. You closed your eyes while you played it, hoping to block them out from your sight and your mind's eye. The music was your only solace, when you were finished, you felt drained but oddly at peace. The sound of applause washed over you, bringing you back to reality. You walked backstage to pack and leave when someone stopped you.

It was Eddie. His face was a mix of concern and curiosity. He looked at your arms, the bandages peeking out from under your sleeves. "Hey, are you okay?" His voice was softer than you had ever heard it. It almost made you believe he genuinely cared. You shrugged it off, "Just a little accident."

He didn't press further, which was surprising. Instead, he leaned against the wall, watching you pack up your cello. "That was intense," he said, referring to your performance. "Where does that come from?" You looked up at him, unsure of how to answer. The music was your escape, a place where your thoughts and feelings could run free without judgement.

"My parents forced me to learn it. I just refuse to unlearn it." You state simply picking up your cello case to leave.

Eddie nods slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Look, I know we haven't exactly been... friendly. But I've noticed you've been pretty down lately. More than usual." His voice is gentle, a stark contrast to the sarcastic tone he usually has.

"I'm depressed. I will never be happy." You bluntly stated. "I have experienced brief moments of bliss and nothing else."

Eddie's expression grew more serious. "You know, talking about it can help. I've seen it with my uncle."

"Munson, your uncle helps because he gives a shit about you. He cares about you, he wants you to do better, that is what he should be doing, family they are supposed to care about you." You corrected him. "My family has a long tract record of addiction, suicide and cancer. My family sucks. My family are all over the place because they're as selfish as they come."

Eddie nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of your words. "But that doesn't mean you can't find happiness elsewhere. Or that you shouldn't try to get better." He offered a small smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I know it's tough, but sometimes you gotta fight through the bad stuff to get to the good."

"I'm broke, my truck is about to die, and I have a shit job I do on the weekend." You countered. "Classmates aren't friends, they're just people you have the same class with. I'm just here because I'm too much of a coward to kill myself." You walked to your truck to put your things into it. You tried starting your truck, which failed three times before it finally roared to life. Your parents left you home alone for the rest of the week. As your father took your mother on 'business trip' or something.

Eddie found out you were alone for the rest of the week by overhearing a conversation between teachers. He heard, "Her parents left for the week, she's all by herself again. Poor girl."

Eddie saw you push your truck to the mechanic to sell it for scap if they said it wasn't worth fixing. Eddie overheard the mechanics tell you that it would cost more than the car was worth to fix. He felt bad for you, so he offered to give you a ride home. You declined. Saying you weren't worth the effort.

The walk home was long and lonely. The grey clouds above mirrored your mood. You felt like a burden to everyone around you, a black hole that sucked the happiness out of any room you entered. You trudged along the sidewalk, your mind racing with dark thoughts.

As you approached your house, you saw Eddie's car parked outside. Your heart sank. He had insisted on giving you a ride, and you had foolishly hoped he'd forgotten about it. You quickened your pace, trying to slip inside before he noticed you. But as you reached the door, he stepped out of the car, blocking your path.

You attempted to go inside your house through the basement which is your bedroom and main living space. It was cluttered with art supplies and band posters. You had painted the walls a deep shade of purple to match the mood of your music. The only source of light was a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting a dim glow over everything.

You walked to your fridge to have your pot brownie and have a nap afterwards. You didn't expect Eddie to follow you inside. You turned around to face him, a mix of annoyance and confusion in your eyes. "What do you want?" You snapped.

Eddie took a step back, holding his hands up in a non-threatening gesture. "I just wanted to make sure you got home okay." His eyes swept over the cluttered room, taking in the sight of your personal sanctuary. "This is… intense."

"Just like my internal need to off myself." you muttered mostly to yourself than him as you ate your pot brownie.

Eddie noticed the pot brownie that was almost gone. He frowned, his concern growing. "You know, that's not a healthy way to cope," he said, his voice gentle.

"Who say I was coping?" You snorted as you stored the rest in your fridge and went to brush your teeth before a nap.

Eddie followed you into the bathroom, his eyes widening at the sight of your arms. The bandages were off, revealing a tapestry of scars, some fresh and others faded with time. "You need help," he said firmly. "This isn't just sadness. This is a cry for help."

"This is me coping." You corrected.

Eddie looked at you with a mix of sadness and anger. "No, this is you punishing yourself." He reached out to grab your arm gently, turning it so he could see the full extent of the damage. Which was far more than he assumed. Your wrists sliced up to hell and back, they looked raw and painful. "This isn't living." Some of the more fresher ones were still red and swollen, it looked like you had done it the night before.

You cleaned your arms, when you attempted to bandage them yourself when Eddie decided to take over. He was surprisingly gentle. "You can't keep doing this to yourself." He murmured, his eyes focused on his task. "You're worth so much more than what you give yourself credit for."

You didn't answer, you didn't say anything in response to it, you were tired of hearing it over and over again. You felt like screaming, but you knew it was futile. You knew that Eddie meant well, but his words felt hollow. They always did. You sat down on your bed, the springs creaking under your weight. The mattress had seen better days, much like everything else in the house.

After he was done, you attempted to nap, thought Eddie had other plans. He didn't let you nap. He sat on the edge of your bed, his eyes never leaving your face. "Why don't you come to the party tonight?" He asked, his voice hopeful. "It'll be a good distraction."

"I don't go to parties. I suck the fun out of everything." you told him.

"Well, maybe it's time to change that," Eddie said, his voice firm but not unkind. "You can't just sit here and wallow in your own misery forever."

"I've been getting paid well for it so far." You pointed out that your father gives you an allowance of a hundred dollars every week in addition to your job's wage. You attempted to get ready to eat at the diner for dinner alone as 'treat' for yourself. You got changed into a long sleeved dress to go eat at the diner. She thought it would have looked weird enough for him to leave without her.

You walked out of the bathroom, your arms now bandaged again. Eddie's eyes searched yours for any sign of hope or agreement, but all he found was a deep sadness. You shrugged, "I don't know how to do anything else."

He stood up, his hands resting on his hips. "Look, I'm not saying it's going to be easy, but you've gotta try. For yourself." He paused, then added, "And maybe for the people who care about you."

"The zero out of zero people." You got your wallet to walk to the diner alone.

Eddie sighed, understanding the weight of your words. "Okay, dinner at the diner it is." He followed you out of the house, his boots echoing on the pavement as you walked side by side. The air was cool, a hint of rain in the air. The diner's neon sign flickered in the growing twilight, casting an eerie glow on the empty street.

You paid for his food as well. You didn't take no for an answer. But to Eddie it was more than just food. It was a silent cry for help, a gesture of friendship in a sea of apathy. You sat across from each other in a booth, the smell of greasy food and burnt coffee filling the air. The jukebox played a sad tune that seemed to resonate with the mood.

"Why do you care?" You finally asked, breaking the silence. "You've never talked to me before, except for that one time when you guys talked about how likely it was for me to die young."

Eddie looked down at his plate, pushing his fries around with his fork. "I don't know. Maybe I saw a bit of myself in you." He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've had my own battles, you know."

"Take your girlfriend Chrissy to that party. I'll walk home." You quickly finished your food to go home.

Eddie reached out and placed his hand over yours, stopping you from moving. "Hey, don't rush off. I'm not taking you home just yet." His grip was firm but not overpowering.

"I'm certain you don't have to 'take me' anywhere." You replied.

Eddie looked up, his eyes meeting yours with a surprising intensity. "I know it's not my place, but I do care. And I want to help. Maybe the party isn't your scene, but just give it a shot. What do you have to lose?"

"Dignity, sense of self and the fact that people might stab me." You were blunt. "The stabbing part has happened before though."

Eddie looked surprised, "What do you mean?"

"Yeah. I got embarressed at an attempt to go to a party. A chick got upset and stabbed me with a butterknife." you explained.

Eddie's eyes widened in shock. "Jesus, that's messed up."

"It was then. Not so much now. I can safely say that I got stabbed by a butterknife." you snorted eating your pumpkin pie.

You attempted to shoo him off to go with Chrissy to the party while you went to practice your cello.

Eddie nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, no party. But promise me you won't be alone all night. If you need anything, I'll be there." He slid a piece of paper with his number across the table. "Call me, no matter what." Eddie then remembered she would be alone in the house.

You took the paper without looking at it, stuffing it into your pocket. "Fine." You stood up, ready to leave. Heading home alone to an empty house on the hill.

Eddie watched you go, a look of concern etched on his face. He knew you weren't okay, but he also knew pushing too hard wouldn't help. He followed you from a distance, making sure you got home safe. Once he saw you go inside, he drove away, feeling a little helpless.

The house was eerily quiet when you entered. You felt the weight of the silence pressing down on you as you made your way to the basement. You pulled out your cello and began to play, letting the music fill the empty space. As the notes danced in the air, you couldn't help but feel a little less alone.

You were woken up at 4am by your door being thrown open. Your father stumbling into your room with your mother in tow. "Get dressed, we're leaving." He slurred. You looked at the clock, it was 4 AM, you had work at 6 AM. "Where are we going?"

"Back to your mother's hometown. We need to sort some shit out with her inheritance. It's going to be a week or two. Make sure to tell your boss."

"I got things to do here still. Like school." You reminded him.

"You can miss a week of school. You're already a failure anyway." Your mother spat, her voice slurred from too much alcohol.

"Then you can do it yourself. I'll stay here and take care of the house." you stated.

Your father's eyes narrowed. "You can't stay here alone. What if something happens?"

"I've been home alone before." You reminded him.

He sighed heavily, the smell of alcohol filling the room. "Fine. But don't you dare do anything stupid while we're gone."

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deceptive-daydreams · 1 year ago

Text

The Under-Ground (18+ ONLY)

Chapter Three - Sunday Night

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 |

Modern!Barista!Eddie AU - Your best friend would never go behind your back...right?

Enemies to Lovers, Modern!Barista!Eddie AU, Eddie x Fem Reader

6K Words

Warnings - Eddie is an asshole, eventual smut, mentions of drugs and drinking, allusions to mental illness, I don't think there's anything else but please let me know if I missed anything

Author's Note: So it has almost been a month since I posted the previous chapter but we finally did it guys. Also shout out to @uglypastels for talking through one of my ideas for this chapter with me, I felt like I was going absolutely insane so she really helped me out.

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Hawkins High - Sophomore Year

It was mid August, school was just about to start but first there was an ice cream social the week before. Usually you’d only see these for the elementary school but they’d started hosting them for the middle school as well the freshman and sophomores at the high school to give them a little head start in making friends and getting to know their teachers. It was held in the parking lot where two ice cream trucks were parked and handing out cones left and right, only offering three flavors: vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry all for free.

Your parents had played a big part in the Hawkins community, always helping to set up events and always making an appearance. They had set out to create the perfect nuclear family with a picket fence and happy faces. Your mom was on the PTA which meant you were forced to go to a number of school events. This was one of them, you had no desire to attend an ice cream social especially as an established sophomore, you’d already attended last year’s as a freshman and you didn’t need to relive that. And yet here you were, sitting on the curb in front of the school in the sweltering August heat while other teenagers created a ruckus throughout the parking lot, a few boys tossing melted ice cream at each other thinking they were the funniest people ever.

None of your friends attended, obviously. They weren’t forced to show up so that left you bored and sticky with a sheen of sweat gracing your skin and no one to talk to. Steve Harrington was in attendance, more than likely also forced to show up because of his mom, however he was more of an acquaintance and someone that happened to always be at the same events that your parents dragged you to. You watched as he performed little tasks as requested by his mother, the current one being to fetch a new box of Hawkins High t-shirts from the car. Passing by you, he gestures to the box and rolls his eyes, an understanding between the two of you that this was ridiculous and neither of you had any desire to be here sweating profusely for the sake of your PTA moms and being their little assistants when needed. You offer him a smile and a shrug, shaking your head as he sets the box on a fold up table, his mother shooing him away as he does. You always wondered why his mom was so mean and dismissive but quickly took a step back to realize you were in the same boat, he just had more money that his parents would throw at him to get him to go away when necessary for them. Yours just simply told you to find an activity when they had no interest in entertaining you.

In any instance, you could appreciate that you and Steve were both lonely teenagers who always saw each other at these events and would sometimes convene and other times give each other mocking looks at how serious the adults were. It was an ongoing game of who could roll their eyes the hardest and he always ended up winning. After his mom waved him away, he plopped down right next to you, bowing his head in exhaustion and letting out a heavy sigh.

“Couldn’t get out of this one either?” He asks with an empathetic smile.

You shake your head, staring across the lot at all the families and groups of friends. “Nope.” You answer.

“Did you at least get ice cream?” He questions, scraping his shoe against the pavement.

“Nope.” You reply, him muttering the same thing as you both laugh.

“It’s gross anyway, it’s too hot even for ice cream.” You elaborate while fanning yourself with an orientation brochure. He agrees with a nod, running a hand through his damp hair, sweaty from lugging boxes around and doing just about anything his mom instructs him to do. At least all you had to do was hand out the brochures.

You and Steve continue to sulk on the sidewalk, miserable in the heat even at five in the evening while teachers introduce themselves to the incoming freshman. Out of nowhere, a guy speeds past the two of you on the curb on a skateboard, abruptly coming to a stop in front of the table of PTA moms. This was gonna be good, based on his looks, they were going to get a kick out of him. You shared a look with Steve, an acknowledgement that you were thinking the same thing as you watched the scene play out. The kid had to be your age at least, he didn’t seem like a freshman, had too much confidence and he appeared a bit older, maybe a junior? He had a head of brown curls that were shaggy and messy, it looked like he was growing it out and he wore a black shirt with some kind of a demon on it along with some black jeans that were beyond distressed, denim threads hanging off of holes at his knees while he gripped his skateboard in one hand. The board was pretty worn and looked as if it could snap in half if he stood on it wrong. Your ears perked up as the moms took a look at him.

“Oh! Wh-what can we do for you?” One asks hesitantly, the others staring at him with wide eyes. He only avoids their eyes, opting to fidget with the grip tape on his board, a piece that was beginning to peel off, that typical teenage boy grumpiness evident in his demeanor.

“Community service. Name’s Eddie. What d’ya need me to do?” The kid grumbles.

Your mom takes a look at a clipboard and nods reluctantly. “You’re late.” She says with a scowl. He shrugs, staring up at the sky as if he’d much rather be anywhere else and you couldn’t blame him.

“Well then.” Your mother fiends offense. “You can start by…” She trails off, searching around for a task, her gaze focusing on anything that remains to be done, no doubt seeking something more difficult in order to punish the boy for being so late. “Untangling these lanyards.” She demands, shoving a small box into his arms. He bites his lip, holding back from saying something before just accepting his fate and nodding. As he turns, he catches your eye, doing a double take as he looks expectantly, you were staring first after all. How could you not? He was cute.

You mouth a “sorry” while vaguely gesturing to your mother though he wouldn’t know it was your mom. You proceed to do a dramatic eye roll like you would do to Steve and this elicits the smallest smile from him, a gorgeous smile framed by deep dimples. The boy proceeded to set his skateboard against the curb by himself before slumping down, beginning his daunting task of untangling several knotted up lanyards.

Steve stares at you with furrowed brows before speaking. “You know him?” He asks.

“No, never seen him before.”

Admiring his face as he sticks his tongue out to concentrate, you start to flush when he glances back up at you with a shy smile this time, peeking up at you from beneath his lashes, your stomach fluttering. Eddie.

—

Present Day

The mall wasn’t somewhere you found yourself frequenting as of lately due to your financial situation however you couldn’t turn down Will’s plea when he visited The Under-Ground on Saturday, the evening following when Jason Carver visited the shop and mysteriously left without purchasing a coffee. That fact lingered in your mind since it happened. Will was in desperate need of some new shoes and also wanted to catch a movie that no one else would watch with him, he mentioned that Joyce gave him extra money to cover both of your tickets. You should feel humiliation at the fact that Joyce insisted on paying for you but you know there is no judgment there from her and Will more than likely told her you were the only one that would be willing to go. He knew you would say yes to a cheesy rom com that everyone else would gag at and in a way, you were like a sister he never had that could appreciate his feminine side. Joyce appreciated this so she would ensure Will got his big sister time in.

So here you were, Sunday afternoon strolling along Hawkins’ streets with Will on your way to Starcourt. He didn’t have his license yet and you’d never even bothered to get yours which worked out really seeing as you would never be able to save up enough for a car, not even a used one. Walking did you good anyway, that's what you told yourself as the days got colder.

“No, I’m serious! El refuses to watch rom coms.” Will laughs as he kicks a pebble along the sidewalk, the same pebble he’d been kicking around since ten minutes ago when you’d left his driveway.

Brow raising in curiosity, you offer him a scoff in response.

“What!?” He smiles wide, happy, actually happy.

Will had been through some rough patches with being bullied at school for everything under the sun. His sexuality, playing DND, being quiet and shy, the list goes on. A dumb list at that. The other boys also had trouble however Will seemed to crumble the most under it all. Though he had an amazing support system, the mind can really infect itself with its own nasty diseases of self hatred which led to endless nights in solitude, declining to hang out with anyone for weeks and instead collecting dust in his room.

Jonathan confronted you, worried at one of Steve’s movie nights confiding in you that his brother wasn’t doing so well and that no matter what he did, Will continued to sleep for a majority of his time at home and even skipped school a lot. Both you and Jonathan stepped into your older sibling roles and decided that night to head back to the Byers while Jonathan explained on the way there that not even El could get through to him which meant things were really bad. So, when you and Jonathan barged into his room that night with various snack options and a plan to watch his favorite movie all together in his bed, Will was overwhelmed but in the best way possible. Sure it didn’t fix everything, that’s not how it worked but it was the first little push toward being himself again. As long as he had the people he loved around and loved him for who he was authentically, he could walk the horrifying Hawkins High halls in confidence that this place was temporary. It also helped that you reminded him that he’s never alone at school either, Lucas, Dustin, Will, Mike, Max, and El were all going through the same hell he was and that you were sure they wouldn’t mind if he talked with them about it. But even if he didn’t feel comfortable, you’d be there to listen along with Jonathan, attempting to help him carry the weight on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, little miss ‘soap operas’ refuses to watch a rom com?” You smile in disbelief.

“I didn’t say it made sense!” Will giggles, throwing his hands up in defense.

Starcourt Mall emerged in the distance from over the horizon as you completed your fifteen minute walk from the Byers, the weekend crowd was prominent as it was almost the only place within a hundred mile radius to do anything fun. Kids squealed as they chased each other all the way up to the entrance, their parents scolding them through gritted teeth while uttering the threat of not getting ice cream later if they didn’t behave. It was far too cold for ice cream but to each their own.

“Well we don’t need her anyway. She hogs up all my Will time.” You joke, nudging an elbow into Will’s ribs.

“There’s no need to fight over me, there’s plenty of Will to go around.” His eyes glimmered with life, something you hadn’t seen a lot of until more recently. He had sparked this new found confidence that had you beaming at him with pride. Little Byers, the group’s timid little brother, the youngest out of all of the kids, was growing into himself as he worked through adolescence and it was refreshing.

“Oh, really? As I recall, you have a waitlist and the only reason I got ahead of everyone was because El booted herself out this one time.” You cock a brow at him, the two of you pushing through the heavy glass doors entering the building. “How’d you get all popular on me, huh?” You tousled his hair and although he was now taller than you, he was still Little Byers.

“I did NOT get ‘all popular on you’.” He uses air quotes, that huge grin still plastered to his face while you walked absentmindedly through the mall, the smell of cinnamon invading your senses, instantly filling you with a craving for a soft pretzel covered in cinnamon sugar and icing.

“No, you’re for sure Mr. Popular now.” You playfully assure him.

“Trust me.” He sing songs, rolling his eyes. “If I were, Eddie would’ve kicked me to the curb. And he hasn’t…so hah.” Will points a finger in your face. Your face winces at the name though you keep to yourself as to not rain on his parade. “He did, however, almost disown me last night when I won against him in Mario Kart.”

Mario Kart? Only you and Will played Mario Kart. Or so you thought up until this point. It’s a stupid thing to be upset over, really but you couldn’t shake the bitterness that rattled in your bones. It was a game, a video game that basically every person on planet earth had heard of and played. And yet the only reason it felt like such a personal attack was none other than a common occurrence in your life recently, Eddie Munson. So maybe when you mumbled your next words, you attempted to hide the sour tone but ultimately only outed yourself.

“Mario Kart? You play–with him?” Pathetic, you’re pathetic. The fact that you spoke such a stupid sentence into existence is beyond you. There was a jealousy coursing through you, spilling out of your lips and no matter how hard you tried to shove it back into the duffle bag of your body, there was no coming back. Over a game called fucking Mario Kart of all things.

Will nervously wavered in his response, side eyeing you as you both continued to make your way through the mall and to the discount shoe store. “Yeah?” It came out as a question, god you could just punt yourself down a football field right now for being a literal adult fuming in envy over another adult playing a video game with your basically adopted little brother. “He came over last night after work. It was me Jonathan, and him…” You were practically making the poor kid defend himself over something completely okay. “He’s been coming over a lot actually? We play DND, Mario Kart, he brings over pizza. Like once a week since summer.” Will acts as if you had this information.

Summer. When Will fell into his biggest episode to date, when everyone had plans of their own including Dustin with summer camp, Mike regrettably embarking on a trip to Washington DC with his dad, Lucas traveling around for his summer basketball program, El and Max bonding over their boyfriends being away and having girls night after girls night, and of course the adults with their jobs. He had felt so outcast and alone. You're suddenly beginning to realize that you weren’t the only one to tend to Will’s emotional wounds besides Jonathan. There was a bigger picture here and though you hate to step back and look at it, you’re forced to realize that Eddie was also acting as a protector of Will’s sanity, assuming just as big of a role as you and Jonathan.

You shouldn’t ask, you shouldn’t dare trek into this territory but the words tumble out before you can even think, your shoulders relaxing and eyes softening at the boy before you. “Were you too scared to tell me?”

Will shakes his head as he hesitantly starts to enlighten you. “No–I just–I–” He sighs, frowning. “I thought you already knew. A-and I never talk about him around you–or I try not to as best as I can because–because I know how much you hate him. Like anytime you see him you look like you just wanna rip his head off.” Will has moved into full rambling mode. “And now–now you work together so I’m trying to be extra careful, so–so I’m sorry. For mentioning him.”

You have reached a point so low that you were now unintentionally making Will apologize for things that were never his fault or ever revolved around him. Anxiety flashes in his eyes and you were giving yourself the goldstar for being the shittiest person alive. “Will…” You croak out. “Will, no. You don’t owe anyone an apology, I owe YOU an apology. I didn’t mean for this to affect you like that.” You explain, pausing in front of the store. “Will, I’m sorry. Please never worry about mentioning him in front of me, okay? Not for my sake, I’m a big girl and you’re right, I don’t like him but I will have to learn to deal with it whenever he comes up. Okay?”

There’s a pause as he absorbs your words, his eyes shyly looking to the ground and then back to you. “Okay.” He whispers, still uncertain. You would need to visit this again at another time, you were not about to cause more turmoil for him just because of your personal vendetta and you can’t believe you didn’t see how it affected him before. Will had enough with his dad causing issues in his life, he didn’t need two more bickering adults further proving that no one was ever happy. You would keep your waging war with Eddie out of his sight. The sudden shift in the air was enough to leave you numb, quickly clinging onto any remaining normalcy from your earlier conversation.

—

The scent of freshly popped popcorn, warm and buttery goodness filled the theater as you walked drowsily into the hallway decorated with multicolored carpet and little designs of stars with abstract shapes. Nothing ever prepares you for the feeling of seemingly being transported to another realm the second you step out of a two hour movie and back into the real world. Every other soul that had sat through the romantic comedy appeared to feel the same, zombies waddling out of the theater and into the main lobby heading back into reality. It had to have been around 8:30 PM by now, the day long gone as there was no longer any trace of sunlight streaming in through the windows. Will had been talking your ear off about the movie, the parts that were super unnecessary, scenes that had him on the brink of tears, and how the twist at the end was a sloppy way to conclude the story. You hummed in response to his complaints, nearly asleep and yearning for your bed no matter how stiff it made your back.

“You know, now I can kinda see why El hates these movies sometimes.” He admits much to your surprise however you knew he’d never say those words directly to her.

“Don’t let her catch you saying that.” You warn playfully, the two of you pushing through the heavy metal doors leading to the mall parking lot.

“Not a chance-”

Will is abruptly silenced when a familiar voice chimes in, happily wrapping his arms around both you and Will from behind.

“You guys went to the movies!? Why wasn’t I invited?” Dustin’s overly excited tone made you want to groan but you held back. It wasn’t his fault you were on your way to becoming a grumpy adult who needed to be in bed by at least 9:00 PM.

Will shoves Dustin’s arm off of his shoulder, turning to walk backwards as you continue your trek through the parking lot. The grin on his face is genuine rather than masking some kind of true emotions like he’d previously done throughout summer. “Cause we saw a rom com.” It’s all he needs to say as Dustin fakes a gag. “That’s why.” Will gestures to him with a roll of his eyes.

“Fair.”

The neon lights from the theater created a glow throughout the lot, bright reds, greens, blues, and yellows reflecting off of the cars. The mall was still buzzing with people regardless of the stores closing, groups of teenagers and young adults scattered throughout the benches at the front creating a hum of clustered talking and every now and then, the annoying screech of some teenage girl overdramatically yelling to her friends about something was heard. Dustin and Will continued catching up and you’d think that with them seeing each other every single day at school, they’d grow sick of one another but it was quite the opposite and once you got them going there was no shutting them up, no matter the setting.

The boy’s voices slowly phased out of your mind as you approached the back of the lot catching sight of something familiar but it wasn’t yet dawning on you where you knew it from. A van, an older van. Brown and white. Barely ever seen out and about these days. And before you could even register who it belonged to, a disheveled Steve suddenly hopped out the back doors, rushing to zip up his jeans as his chest heaved and he ran a hand through his voluminous hair. A flash of realization crossed your features, eyes widening and jaw dropping.

Eddie Munson’s van.

Steve Harrington was stumbling out of Eddie Munson’s van after presumably committing unspeakable acts based on his flustered demeanor and attempts at cleaning himself up. There was no mistaking it when the back of his hand wiped his mouth and to further confirm your suspicions, the man himself stepped out seconds later. Eddie stood there, fly still undone while he stretched both his arms over his head, shirt riding up to show off a glimpse of his pale torso. His curls were even more wild than usual and a smirk displayed on his face as he made some kind of comment to Steve.

In your shocked state, you’d completely drowned out Dustin and Will’s banter, attempting to understand the scene playing out before you in the corner of the parking lot. This wasn’t possible, Steve hated Eddie just as much as you did and although it was for different reasons than your own, it was hatred nonetheless. If that was the case then why was this happening? How could this be happening? The questions remained unanswered as you realized you’d stopped dead in your tracks, falling behind the boys as they turned back to stare at you with puzzled expressions. Your next question was thrown out the window due to Dustin doing a double take at the two men. Do I draw attention to this or do I let it go like I never saw?

It was now too late for the second option as a gasp escaped Dustin, he just had to look right when Eddie teasingly tugged Steve in by the belt loop and planted one last sloppy kiss to his lips before retreating to the driver’s side of his van, not even bothering to zip up his pants while Steve returned to his own car. Things were about to become massively more complicated. For Steve. For you. For your friendship. Even for Dustin and Will who were utterly flabbergasted by what had just played out in front of them. Because everyone knows Steve hates Eddie, right? That’s just how the world goes. Steve hates Eddie, Eddie hates Steve. They’re polar opposites. Nothing was adding up and poor Dustin and Will were about to experience something you wished so badly you could hold back. There was no controlling it, you found yourself marching up to Steve’s car before he was even able to open the door, wedging yourself between him and the car.

“Steve.” His name is spat right at him like venom, your face showing the distaste you had for him in this moment but he couldn’t quite gather if it's because you’d caught him or if this was you and you dramatics once again over something as simple as taking a rain check on driving Max and El to the arcade since they didn’t have their licenses yet.

“Socks?” He has the audacity to seem lost and it only fuels the fire growing inside of you.

“Don’t.” You warn through clenched teeth.

Suddenly it feels as if it's only you and Steve in the parking lot, your eyes shooting daggers at him and he can only imagine that he fucked up. And this time it was bad by the way your face flushed with anger, steam practically coming out of your ears. Dustin and Will kept their distance near a dumpster, close enough to listen in but still somewhat hidden. You didn’t want them to witness what you were about to unleash but it came out of nowhere, like a dam breaking and releasing all of its contents.

“How. Dare. You.” Each word is enunciated with a harsh poke to his chest, his brown eyes becoming sadder with each one.

“I don’t-”

“If you’re about to tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about then I don’t even recognize you anymore, Steve.”

He visibly deflates, shoulders shrinking as if he was a puppy that was caught doing something it wasn’t supposed to. Except he was a grown man and he knew exactly what he was doing, he knew if you found out it would possibly cost your friendship.

“It wasn’t supposed to–I–wasn’t–you gotta understand–”

“Understand what? I think I understand perfectly! You and Munson are messing around and you’re doing it behind my back! What, is this some kind of prank? Are–are you helping him get at me for something? Did I push your buttons a little too hard one day and you decided to hit me where–where it hurts most?” You were genuinely trying to name reasons for why he’d do such a thing knowing how much it would affect you but there was no making sense of it in your brain. You were desperate to know why one of the closest people in your life would betray you in such a way.

“No! No I–”

“Enlighten me then, Steve. Cause I don’t get it! Out of every single person you could choose, you fuck Eddie!?” Tears were brimming at your eyes, your hand tightening on the door handle as you tried to regain some composure.

“If I may interrupt…” Another voice chimed in a few feet away, the last voice you’d ever want to hear, especially at this moment. “There was no fucking.” Eddie leaned against the side of his van a few parking spots over, arms crossed and a cocky look on his face. You swore you wanted to kill him, pure rage was coursing through your veins. You wanted to kill both of them if you were honest.

Steve mumbled your name in sorrow, searching for answers just as much as you were. “I didn’t mean for anything like this to happen. I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I swear. It–it just happened.” A sigh of defeat escapes him while his hand rubs the back of his neck anxiously.

The tears began to build up, breaking the barrier of your waterline and falling down your cheeks as you attempted to quickly wipe them away. “If you didn’t mean to hurt me then why did you hide it? Does Robin know?” The question held such power over him, it was a deciding factor in what your next move was.

Seconds pass although it feels like several minutes due to the tension. He avoids your eyes, opting to further inspect the asphalt below. Feeling yourself becoming more agitated and wounded, you roughly shove his shoulder with the palm of your hand causing him to stumble back a few steps.

“Steve.” Still no answer.

This time you step forward to shove him again but with both hands, unable to comprehend how he can’t even admit his truth to you, only to be stopped when a taller figure steps in between the two of you, grabbing your wrists in his hands. It takes you by surprise and at first you have no idea who would’ve stopped you but as you look up, you’re met with deep brown irises that you’d come to dislike even more in the last few minutes.

“Take a breather.” There’s something in his eyes you don’t recognize but you’re too far gone to analyze it.

“Let. Go.”

“Take. A. Breather.” His grip on your wrists is firm but not unkind.

“Eddie, I think you should just let us–” Steve attempts to butt in but Eddie glances behind him with a warning written on his face.

“Harrington, I’d shut up if I were you right now.”

“You have no business stepping into this, Munson. Let. Go.” Wriggling around in an attempt to get out of his hold but failing, you huff out a breath, still glaring at Steve over Eddie’s shoulder.

“It is my business.”

“Let go.” Your voice regrettably comes out cracking, more tears involuntarily falling.

And he does. Eddie lets go, showing you his hands in surrender to which you try to shove past him only to be held in place by your shoulders. It felt like it was you against the world and you kept losing.

“Look, I know you’re not my biggest fan and now you’re not Harrington’s either but you need to take a minute.” Again, you meet his eyes briefly only to find some kind of emotion lurking in them but you can’t pinpoint exactly what it is. This isn’t something you’re used to, why was Eddie being the middleman, why was he talking you down out of everyone? Why was there a drop of sympathy pouring from his gaze? And then you decided, it had to have been sympathy for Steve, not you. And that stung for some reason.

Poor Dustin and Will still lingered near the dumpster, deciding to keep themselves out of it, rightfully so. Even as you glanced toward them, taking in their concerned faces, you continued. It was like something was set off deep within you and Steve’s actions released it. Grabbing a fistful of Eddie’s shirt in your hand, you scowled at him and then Steve.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“I do when you’re about to do something you’ll regret. In front of Dustin and Will.” That’s where he got you. Releasing his shirt, you sigh.

You weren’t sure what you were about to do but you knew it was something along the lines of verbally ripping Steve apart and possibly trashing any chance of ever redeeming your friendship. You slowly realized that you were again, creating reason for Will to see you as a loose canon. Another adult in his life that flew off the rails and failed him because you proved that you could not handle simply existing in the same world as Eddie Munson. And yet, Eddie Munson was standing right in front of you trying to talk you out of creating such a horrible reality. Suddenly you felt so small, so insignificant as each one of them stared at you, awaiting your next actions almost fearfully. Steve was apologetically gazing at you from behind Eddie, seeming to have words lodged in his throat but not succeeding in finding a way to speak them. Will watched you with worry, Dustin next to him with an expectant expression. You couldn’t bear to exist anymore since showing Will that side of yourself after assuring him earlier that you’d be fine and to not refrain from mentioning Eddie just because of your own personal issues.

So you crumbled. Right there in the parking lot at around 8:57 PM according to a peek at Eddie’s watch, his hand still resting atop your shoulder. Hot, fat tears began rolling down your cheeks rather than the smaller, more controlled ones from earlier. Steve urgently moved forward but Eddie removed one hand from you and held it in front of him to stop, Steve staring at him confused but still obeying. You began to stumble backward, the urge to hide yourself prominent but Eddie held you in place for reasons unknown. His attention wasn’t required in this situation, he should theoretically just hop into his van and drive off but he doesn’t.

Out of the corner of your blurry vision Will approached and yet again Eddie held a hand out as a signal to stop. It was all too overwhelming, why was Eddie helping? Or was he sabotaging in some fucked up way? Using your moment of weakness against you. How could you let yourself lash out like that in front of Will? Even in front of Dustin? The right thing to do would’ve been to wait to talk it out with Steve in private but no, you had to self sabotage. And now you looked like a villain despite Steve being the one who did the damage. Sure Eddie could be to blame too however something like this was to be expected from him, never from your best friend.

Body shaking, you began to feel paralyzed, nerves tingling and breath shallow as you succumbed to your anxiety. Everyone’s eyes on you didn’t aid in calming your tantrum. It wasn’t fair, you weren’t the one betraying your friend and yet it felt as if you were taking the blow. Will frantically looked from you to Eddie, having trouble deciding if you were crying because of Eddie or because of Steve or both. This was out of his scope and he couldn’t distinguish a path to follow in order to bring you peace. But he didn’t need to.

“Byers, Henderson. Ride home with Harrington. I’ll take her home.” Eddie instructs, no longer touching you but still keeping his eyes glued to you, wide but attentive.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Will asks cautiously.

“You think it’s a good idea to put her in a car with Harrington right now?” Eddie references your outburst with a raise of his brow, Will nodding immediately in understanding.

If you had to be in a car with one of them, Eddie seemed to be the better option at the moment. No matter how much you hated him, he wasn’t your target right now and judging by the way you didn’t run from Eddie as he tried to coax you toward the van, everyone seemed to agree this was the only option. God only knows what would happen if you were placed in the passenger seat of Steve’s car in this state. You weren’t thinking clearly.

You vaguely recall Dustin offering to walk you to the passenger side and Eddie responding that he was taking care of it and that he was trying to keep the environment the least bit stimulating due to your current anxiety. Adding another person might’ve made things worse and Dustin agreed as he made his way to Steve’s car. You caught pieces of the exchange but overall you found yourself in that frightening place between reality and your brain that wasn’t allowing you to fully understand the events happening around you and you couldn’t determine what exactly had set it off but one moment you were standing in the parking lot screaming at Steve, the next Eddie was urging you to take a breath, and then you were in the passenger seat of his van.

~end~

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tags - @mmunson86 @haylaansmi @batkin028 @obscureenigmatic @micheledawn1975 @dreamerjj @hideoutside

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #stranger things au #eddie munson series

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spookfished · 3 months ago

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media roundup sep 2024

hello! havent done these in a while. im currently "extremely unemployed" lol well see if i go back and do any of the previous months i skipped ㄟ( ▔, ▔ )ㄏ i think its nice to force myself to summarize my thoughts like this

BOOKS: the tyrant baru cormorant by seth dickinson: most recent book in the masquerade series, which is a thriller (?) about the mechanics of empire. dude this book was so great. no notes. there were some incredibly gratifying payoffs in here and some craaazy twists. idk i wish i had something more to say i just thought it was really really good im glad that baru gets to have some good things as well as bad. of course, seth dickinson has amazing prose and the ending was so like, uplifting? and inspiring? i was very surprised lol

when the angels left the old country by sacha lamb: queer jewish immigrant YA, apparently for fans of good omens. an angel and a demon from a small, small town go to america to track down one of the town's mising daughters. despite neither being a gomens fan (although i did read it) nor jewish, i really enjoyed this! it has a dreamy, fairytale, eva ibbotson-like tone to it that made it a pleasure to read, despite the somewhat foreboding topic (let's all have a fun time on ellis island while visibly jewish!) the stories of the humans and the non-humans feel equally important, but i really especially enjoyed the way the angel changed over time as a response to the world it saw. its just a really nice book :3

long live evil by sarah rees brennan: villainess isekai, but western tradpub. a woman dying from cancer at a young age is given the chance to live again--as a two-bit floozy villainess the day before her execution?! how will rae find a way out? and how well, really, does she remember the time of iron? sarah rees brennan is sort of a comfort author to me; in other lands meant a Lot to me as a mentally ill teenager. all the same, i almost dropped this book during the first couple of chapters. in my opinion, this book has a REALLY rough start that evened out into a ride that i enjoyed quite a bit despite many other factors. while some parts of the part are clearly deeply personal (this is the author's first book published after recovering from late stage cancer), it also has a tendency to hammer in its points over and over again and undercuts too many serious moments with quippy dialogue in a way that deflates tension rather than increasing it. also, one b-couple takes clear inspiration from one of her previous works (but this time more #toxic --they kill each other in time of iron) and as a result unfortunately outshines the main couple at times, who also have to share screentime with a huge cast that often feels improperly balanced. but also, i thought the main couple was pretty cute, actually! the ending twist, while not unpredictable (and also very, uh, danmei?) was also very enjoyable and nice to let creep up on you. i feel like i'm being more strict with it than i am with a lot of villainess isekai i read though, haha… i agree with ineedacatchyname's review of it (and a lot of these thoughts just echo theirs. woops!)--a lot of this could be fixed with a bit more editing, but ultimately i spent the second half unable to put it down and i'm still going to read the sequel.

against football by steve almond: fairly short nonfiction. one diehard football fan's searing condemnation of the state of american football today (and what we could do to make it better). this was recommended to me by megafaunatic, and i really enjoyed it :3 i come from a pretty "ugh, sportsball" type of family, and so it was really interesting to see why people love watching football (especially a team as "wretched" as the former oakland raiders) as well as playing it--but also how the continuation of football in its current state is pretty much inexcusable (one bright side is that division i graduation rates have actually gone up quite a bit since this book was published in 2016!) id easily recommend to both football fans and non-fans.

GAMES: pikmin bloom: pikmin bloom is a game about walking around, growing pikmin, and planting virtual flowers. i didnt play this game for a while bc i was like "well, its pokemon go but with pikmin -_-" and like. it is. but niantic has also taken the opportunity to overhaul a lot of its base game mechanics with a focus on actually getting you to GO OUTSIDE and WALK AROUND, which i think is to its benefit! like, yeah it actually did get me to go on some walks when i wouldnt have otherwise. the microtransactions kinda suck but as long as youre willing to kill your darlings (pikmin) its fine i think. < guy with a very high deathcount in pikmin 3 and 4

return of the obra dinn: stylized mystery game about unpacking what happened in a scaaary voyage by seeing the moment surrounding the crewmembers' deaths. dude. this game is so fucking good. it was like everyones goty in 2018 and as soon as i finished it i was like "i wish i could get hit in the head so i could play it again." imo, its a really good game to play as a group (with one person driving) bc so much of the gameplay takes place outside of the game--deducing, speculating, etc and it's really fun to do that as a conversation with someone else! the game does a good job of disincentivizing random guessing--when i played this game with my family, we did guess on a couple but it was almost always a 50-50 "choice A or choice B". and the game can (apparently) be completed without any chance guesswork whatsoever! can be a little gory at times, but its all in this sort of dithery monochrome style so you don't really think about it until you're walking to the bathroom in the halflit moonlight and youre kinda like hey this kinda looks like return of the obra dinn haha. wait. anyways play this game!!

unpacking: cute little game about unpacking/moving in during the various phases of one person's life. probably a masterclass in "environmental storytelling" that invites you into making your own stories for our unseen protagonist while also providing these understated beautiful little moments of understanding. also, it was really theraputic getting everything perfectly placed in order when i currently live in a very messy house ;-_-

umineko chapter 2: ahhh year of umineko 2024 continues. im definitely not finishing the whole game this year (lol) but i might end up finishing the question arcs at least..? anyways ive been lbing this the whole time (#year of the seacat 2024 for blacklist) but man this was pretty harsh compared to the first episode. it even makes battler break down..! i was secretly wondering how it was going to try and turn around my opinion on rosa, but, well, i still really dont like her. has bright points in more beatrice!!! the introduction of the meta, some ???really horny??? parts and the [You are incompetent] scene. also, everyone seems to really hate george for some reason but i feel like i still dont get it.

SHOWS:

the decameron: drama about fucking and dying in black plague-era italy, and a villa meant to be a getaway from it all. in high school i wanted to read the decameron because it was mentioned in theatre of coolty--just so you know, this is nothing like it. its just really fun! and full of light intrigue and twists and reveals and tragedy. a lot of the plague-based humor hit in some pretty uncomfortable places, which the showrunners were definitely going for. neifile and panfilo hands down had my favorite relationship.

witch from mercury: revolutionary girl gundam?? this is how everyone pitched it to me, which honestly put me off a little bit. wfm is clearly aware and respectful of its predecessors but also takes the first episode to go "nah were going to do something a little different though." like, its kind of like instead of tackling rape culture it decided to tackle the military industrial complex instead ? ? i guess?? it seems like a good entry point into gundam for many (including me!) i enjoyed the first season very fun and currently watching the second. looking forward to seeing how sick and twisted things can get

in terms of music ive been listening to a lot of zerobaseone.. every time were in the car together neil is like lets listen to yurayura and im like yessss. yurayuraa oh ive also been listening to counter//weight while driving but im not going to include it bc its been slow going lol. all my thoughts about it so far is like "this is the thing neil really likes"

anyways if you got to the end or skimmed or whatever, thanks for reading! hope u have a good one.

#txt #kade media

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ventbloglite · 9 months ago

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Any other systems* seen the Inside No.9 episode "Thinking Out Loud"? What did you think of it? You can either just quickly answer the poll, add in a comment or reblog more detailed thoughts, a combination or just ignore it I guess.

*Since this is a story dealing with a character having DID, I ask that only systems and not endoplurals answer. This is a question for those whose disorder is being presented and similar (such as OSDD systems), not for anyone who experiences plurality. Of course I can't stop you so this is here to indicate a certain level of trust.

I personally think it's one of the better portrayals of how DID works and some research was clearly done, and I'm not actually mad that the abuser was killed even though I know 'killer alter' is a stereotype I think overall the viewer is invited to be sympathetic with the system and side with them.

Run down of the episode if you need refreshing or didn't see it:

Inside No.9 is a collection of episodic tales with a variety of genres including comedy, dark, horror, fantasy and serious life events. I was weary when the twist of 'Thinking Out Loud' was that the most prominent character had DID because the way they've dealt in the other episodes with mental illnesses or breaks has been hit and miss at best.

But here's the thing - as we're introduced to the idea of the system existing, the system has done nothing wrong. The plot twist is not 'you did something awful because you're a system and now you must remember it' it's 'you, the host, need to realise that you are part of a system because we're about to be confronted with our abuser again after many years'.

The story, told in parts, is about a woman called Nadia. Nadia witnessed frequent domestic abuse against her mother which ended with said mother being murdered in front of her. Because of this, the system was created. Nadia has no idea all her life that she is a system however, simply aware of 'memory loss'. It seems other members however are somewhat or entirely aware, in particular the Gatekeeper who is not named but speaks and acts like a therapist.

It's the Gatekeeper who encourages Nadia to leave a camera running so she can catch when she switches and start to get to know the system (it seems this system communicates best when speaking out loud and each alter that fronts believes that the camera is there for different reasons, though the Gatekeeper seems to have a strong mental dialogue).

Eventually, as time before the abuser arrives is drawing short, the Gatekeeper abandons her attempts at trying to slowly ease Nadia into acknowledging her trauma and discovering the system and just tells her what is going on. That's how we get the context for the other characters, who are alters in the system. It is also acknowleged that these alters are just the frequent fronters and that there's likely more that the Gatekeeper or anyone else doesn't know about yet.

Nadia - Host, maybe the original. Diana - trauma holder, when she fronts she closes her eyes and sings Amazing Grace as this was what happened during the abuse to block out what was happening. Angel - caretaker, believes she's a vlogger and so does vlogs to the camera, very cheerful and upbeat, puts a positive spin on everything Aiden - protector, Angel's dad, possibly remembers some of the trauma Galen - persecutor, introject of the abuser but isn't a 1 to 1 copy of the abuser, believes himself to be in prison for killing his mother and father but this is his personal memories mixed with what actually happened during the abuse, speaks with a southern drawl and is the only alter with a noticably different accent, is mad that nobody appreciates what he does for the system. (memory of exact roles is a bit fuzzy there's also 'Bill' who makes a dating style video and is an old man but I forget his significance. Also note that the names are anagrams of each other! Most with 'Nadia' and then Angel and Galen. The alters present as different genders, races and ages.)

The story ends with the abuser, fresh from jail, greeting Nadia and being welcomed into her home where Galen fronts and stabs him before Nadia fronts again. The story then ends.

#DID #c did #osdd #osddid #did system #osdd system #systems in media #characters with did #character who are systems #system polls #endos dni

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mermaidsirennikita · 1 year ago

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ARC Review: Never Met a Duke Like You by Amalie Howard

4.25/5. Releases 11/14/2023.

Vibes: childhood best friends to enemies (Iite) to lovers, nerd in the streets freak in the sheets, actual factual social issues, and a very good cat/kitty joke.

This is a retelling of Clueless, which is a retelling of Emma, which in theory sounds very messy but ultimately worked out in a historical romcom I really liked. It touches on some serious problems of the time (heads up: a lot of discussion of asylums and their abuses) and there's a great chemistry between our leads. She's a flighty eye-catching popular type, he wants to hunt for dinosaur bones, and they haven't seen each other for years but have been building up to this since childhood. It's a good mix.

Quick Takes:

--I was honestly a little "why do we need this" when I first understood the concept. Yes, the previous book in the series, Always Be My Duchess, is a retelling of Pretty Woman, which is a retelling of My Fairy Lady (and MFL is a retelling of Pygmalion). But Emma is an Austen novel, and such a clear precursor to historical romance subgenre of today. I was a little worried about how that would work.

But here's the thing. Clueless is very much not a direct retelling of Emma, and you change a lot in the Emma/Knightley dynamic when you switch it up from a girl and her neighbor/friend who's like 17 years her senior and held her when she was a baby, to a girl and her somewhat older former stepbrother (no shade, Emma is my favorite Austen and I adore Clueless). If you like Cher and Josh, that's the sweet spot Vesper and Aspen hit. It's very much that sequence in The Swan Princess wherein Derek and Odette bug each other as kids, then realize as adults that they wanna bang it out--but with a bit more of a friendship slant. In the childhood days. When they're adults, there's an edge added by their years of separation and misunderstandings. And I'll admit, I eat a "childhood friends separated and reunited as adults" dynamic right up. If that's your itch, this book will definitely scratch it.

--Aspen is really into DINOSAURS, and I personally loved that angle. He was nerdy enough for me to call him a nerdy hero (and Vesper does love his glasses) but he wasn't a cliche nerdy hero. Yes, he loves to look at fossils and discourse over prehistoric creatures, but he's also confident, snarky, and quite prone to putting it down. Honestly, I arguably could've used more dinosaur content (though Howard definitely uses it at just the right moment).

--A big part of this book is mental illness and the absolutely horrible was in which it was addressed at this point in time. Aspen's father was confined to an asylum and abused in that asylum--exactly how that happened is a major point in the book. Additionally, its specter hangs over Aspen's head, his father's "diagnosis" (I hesitate to call it legitimate) a potential means through which his own committal could be justified. It's rough, dude.

And I will say, I suspect that some readers will be dissatisfied with the comeuppance the villain of this book receives. For me, it worked--because it was realistic, and because I really couldn't think of any way through which the issue could be resolved without taking away from Aspen and Vesper's relationship. The point of this story isn't really punishing the bad guy--it's making it so Aspen and Vesper can have a healthy relationship without this threat in the midst of it all.

As an added note, Vesper has ADHD, which isn't a massive part of the novel but does figure into her character and journey. I thought it was a nice touch--people with ADHD didn't just suddenly pop into existence in the twentieth century, and the rep is good to see.

--The thing I really liked about Aspen and Vesper's dynamic is that there really was this undercurrent of childlike... knowledge, and playfulness. They've changed a lot, and there are a lot of confused feelings between them; but you still get the sense that at one point, these people really knew each other. And that sense of knowing and affection remains.

I also really loved the moments when the childhood besties jumped out--there's a teasing vibe to the relationship, this sense that they kind of want to kiss each other and kind of want to poke each other (non-sexually). It makes the tone of the book a bit bubblier, which is key, I think, when you're dealing with subject matter as dark as Aspen's backstory could be.

The Sex:

It's hot. These two have a very clear physical connection, and it's immediately noticeable. You get a lot of double entendres in this book, a lot of teasing that goes just over the line--like when Aspen casually tells Vesper she looks like she's just had an orgasm in public. Very normal thing to say to the former childhood friend you're not interested in! At all!

One sex scene in particular was so delightful--the perfect mixture of hot and funny, which sums up the tone of the book pretty well. I mean, this dude is really about his fossils, and they definitely play into the... plot. More than you might think. (Not in that way, in THAT way. Don't worry about it. Read the book.)

Frothy yet not without substance, Never Met a Duke Like You is another enjoyable entry from Amalie Howard. If I'm being real, I think I liked it a bit more than Always Be My Duchess (also a good book). Would recommend!

Thanks to Netgalley and Forever for providing me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

#romance novel blogging #arc reviews #netgalley #book recs #books #book reviews

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housesorrowsupdates · 3 months ago

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Note from the author about House Sorrows

Hi. Hello! Been a while. This is Pyrr.

There are a few things about House Sorrows that I think are important to state, especially if you have not read Sendlingur og Sandlóa (which again, is not required) and aren’t familiar with how I write and the viewpoint I see the world from, which I think strongly colors the way you may consume this story.

If you have read Sendlingur og Sandlóa (SOS), basically expect more of the same as what you got, but with slightly different topics explored from the point of view of someone who is slightly older now and with the emotional intensity cranked up to an 11. If you are not familiar with SOS, please read this; I do not generally like to openly discuss author intent with my work unless specifically requested as part of a private conversation with people who have made an effort to befriend me. I am generally uncomfortable talking about my work in detail openly because I need readers to clearly understand that I prefer to hand my work over to interpretation rather than spell out every single intent behind everything (and my intent does not mean you cannot interpret a different meaning from my work, and I will say that quite often there are multiple and contradicting lines of intent I am putting forth at the same time intentionally to purposefully convey a plurality of meanings). However, I do think it is necessary in this instance to set things straight and speak to you directly in this way at the beginning so you understand where I am coming from, especially since the world is very, very difficult right now, and will likely get increasingly more difficult by the time I finish this story. I ask that you read this fully and completely before making any decisions you may or may not take.

In my view, in trying to have an honest and complete realistic discussion on what the ramifications of demi-immortal nationfolk inherently means, you have to talk about real serious topics like death/violence, mental illness/neurodivergence, difficult moral choices, sexuality/reproduction, substance abuse/addiction, the root of politics, and other such topics that are often viewed as difficult or taboo to talk about, especially in their extremes, despite being very much part of our objective reality (whether we like it or not, those things are not going away from the world).

As a wildlife biologist, wildlife rehabber, and museum taxidermist, it has been my job for over a decade to think about living organisms, their lives, their bodies, how they function, and the environments that support them. I cannot help but see the world through that lens. Humans are still biological beings at the end of the day and although we feel we are special and excluded from the rules of the natural world because of our technological society and sense of domination over the planet, we still are beholden to the same organic origin of the same nature that we once came from. We’re no less flesh than all other animals around us, and we are by no means the only intelligent or self-aware forms of life on the planet, either. I am also someone who has held countless things while they have died in my hands while trying to save them, I have seen bodies broken and contorted in truly horrific ways while still being very much alive, I have seen first hand what intentional cruelty mankind can inflict upon the world, and I have been in the difficult position where I, as an act of mercy, have to make the decision to euthanize wild animals that cannot be saved and cannot be comforted in their pain, crippled beyond repair as an unintentional byproduct of the actions of humans, over and over and over again, day in and day out, year after year after year. Sometimes, that even means ending the individual lives of an threatened or endangered species, despite knowing it is very possible and entirely likely that the entire species will be extinct and gone from the earth before I die myself. I may be one of the last people on this planet to know that organism in such a close intimate way, I may be one of the last people who gets to hold that living species in my own hands. I have to take full responsibility for taking that individual life as kindly as I can while also knowing in the back of my mind the horrific peril that species faces outside of that singular moment. I know that my efforts to conserve life on this planet may ultimately be in vain, and I will likely lose more battles than I win, and I will likely never see my efforts come to fruition in my lifetime. But I’ve done it anyway, because somebody has to at least try to stop it.

It is a brutally difficult thing to carry sometimes.

It is also the greatest honor that I get to hold the memory of what soon may be gone for good, of things that most people won’t even know they will ever miss, won’t even know are gone, won’t even remember.

I think these personal experiences give me a unique perspective on what being a nation must be like. I live and breathe in a world of life, death, complicated choices, complicated humans, complicated nature, and what I see as my duty to protect something much greater than myself, even if it pains me at times and causes me personal suffering. I have done this for a long time and it makes me feel very old and tired sometimes. And yet, I am still very young! My daily existence is inherently baked in with complexity in which there is no right answer. I think about it a lot. And my personal life outside of my work has been tumultuous, traumatic, and I have gone through many unfair and unforgivable things that no human being ever deserves to experience, and even then my experiences pale in comparison to some others who have suffered even more unimaginable horrors than mine. I have a very troubled understanding of what humanity is capable of and I have possessed that knowledge from a very early age. I have been trying to make sense of it all my entire life. And yet, those experiences are what lead me to this point, and are exactly why I am talking to you now! I have lived, despite it all, even if it has been messy, even if I haven’t always handled or conducted myself well. At the end of the day, we living beings, be us human or not, are all just trying to survive as best we can muster with what resources we have available to us.

Nationfolk, due to their relative immortality, must live in a similar framework of thought. I don’t think you can’t truly honestly seriously talk about nationfolk, humanity, immortality, the absurd timescale that nationfolk live on, and the philosophic ramifications with Hetalia (or ANY countryhuman content for that matter) without talking about difficult subjects and the varying attitudes humanity has towards them. I think in stories like this one, which is intentionally exploratory across so many topics, to NOT do so is a disservice to the reader and a disservice to the world we live in. But let me be very clear: it is my aim to discuss the world with as much grace, respect, accuracy, and empathy towards my fellow man as possible, while factoring in my own personal experiences when relevant, and I will not tackle subjects that I do not feel equipped or knowledgeable enough to tackle. If you have read Sendlingur og Sandlóa, you will already be familiar with what I mean and my style of approaching difficult things. You cannot see the light without acknowledging the dark. You cannot understand the world for what it is if you run away from the difficult parts of it. You will fail to understand yourself if you don't call into question why you feel and think about certain things the way you do. If humanity wants to build a better future, we need to be much more honest and open. With all of it, even the painful bits. It is sometimes good to be uncomfortable. Sometimes it is necessary to be uncomfortable. That is how we grow.

I also know that there are a lot of things that are completely normalized to me that are not normalized to most people. I hold the things I love most as they expire in my hands and to me it is yet another Tuesday. There are aspects of life, death, and all that entails that make a lot of people very uncomfortable that I am extremely comfortable with because I have been in this field since I was a young teenager. I personally think it is extremely important to face those things head on in a respectful way instead of shying away from them, but I also understand that not everyone is in a place where they can do that. I may be totally comfortable talking about death, but maybe you aren't. I may be comfortable with discussions of sexuality, but maybe you aren't. Maybe you can't engage with a character, a topic, a ship - I get it. Our sensitivities are individually complicated in ways few others can understand. It is up to you to navigate your own personal daggers – but I am not responsible for your own knife fights, just in the same way you are not responsible for mine.

This is how I am going to be handling content warnings (and tagging): I think they are absolutely necessary given some of what I wish to write about as a courtesy in these difficult times, but I also want to give people the choice to go in blind (as I think the story is more effective that way, and would be personally how I would like to consume it as a reader). I will not be stating before each chapter anything about it, but here on this blog I will be listing any potential triggers/additional tags associated with each subsequent chapter, and I will update some major tags on the story with each chapter release too (including characters, ships, etc. as they appear). This allows those who want to keep things a surprise to enjoy the story that way, while also protecting those who may be sensitive and need a forewarning about certain topics (and I do include myself in this group, for the record). There is no wrong or right way to consume this story. There is no wrong or right way to interpret it, either. It is yours to experience and consume and take away from it what you wish, if anything. It will not be perfect, as no work ever is perfect. I will do my best to be respectful and responsible to the well-being of others. In return, I ask that you please be respectful of me, my very complicated perspective on the world, and my efforts to convey to you a piece of art that I hope will bring many of you either a sense of peace or a greater sense of appreciation for the messy beautiful terrible world we all call home. This is our contract with each other.

If you have read the final notes of SOS or know me personally well, you know that SOS was written from a deeply personal place influenced by my own personal challenges. It started as a story I thought was conceptually interesting and it only became infinitely more personal and a reflection of myself in retrospect, and sometimes those self-realizations only occurred years after I wrote it. It is, and was, a deeply personal work.

House Sorrows is yet another case study of this phenomenon. In the simplest terms imaginable, House Sorrows is a by proxy unraveling the entirety of my lifelong unresolved grief and trying to figure out what to do constructively with the deep damage that I see in myself and in the world at large, as seen through the eyes of a young conservation biologist tasked with trying to solve seemingly insurmountable environmental problems while living in an age of growing global distrust and instability, and trying to find unconditional love for humanity anyway through a philosophy of radical hope. Part of the reason why this chapter has taken so long for me to write is because I suddenly have had a series of physical, mental, and emotional breakdowns that lead me to learn things about myself that I didn’t know had always been there. I have had to leave behind what should have been the apex of my professional career and stop working entirely in order to start tending to the deep wounds I didn’t know I had. Art imitates life. Life imitates art. And so it goes. I, ultimately, have always wanted to create something meaningful out of my suffering. I say all of this to you up front so that you can understand me better, and so that we can all have greater empathy, sympathy, and/or compassion for one another. And, remember that at the end of the day, this is a piece of fanfiction – I am not doing this for pay or prestige or attention and I have very little to gain no matter how you look at it. I am doing this because I need to tell this story for myself, and I also fundamentally believe that sharing this story will truly help a few people out there and make a positive impact on their lives. That, to me, is all that matters.

If I get something wrong with history, culture, or language, please tell me, as I am not a historian/cultural expert by any means and I have to re-teach myself a lot of what I have forgotten since I wrote SOS, as well as teach myself new things. I will try my best, but I cannot possibly hope to get things right 100% of the time even with my best efforts, and it is ultimately improbable to realistically ask me to do so for everything, again, for a piece of fanfiction. I am open to critique, corrections, and the like and will take any I receive with serious consideration, but at the end of the day my aim is towards the purpose of serving the greater narrative and messages rather than complete accuracy in all things (although I will do my best to accomplish that too).If you are interested in me writing about a historical/cultural topic/character/etc. and incorporating that in the story, I do take suggestions during this early period and may write it if you ask and I feel I can make it fit! But I do have clear aims, goals, and all the main story beats have been planned. I already know how all of this ends, and the very last chapter was written well before anything else was. So I may not explore everything offered, but I will consider it.

Writing this story will take me time, and it will be slow. Please be patient with me. I am trying to recuperate from many things, but I am working on it every single day, whether I write a word or not.

Know it is never my intent with my work to do harm, only to offer the honest way I see the world and express the difficult but genuine love that I have to have for all of it. I do so with the hope that it helps people who have suffered in the same ways I have suffered. I do so because stories like this one are what I needed to read at one point in my life and never got to read, and I feel that it is my duty is to pass on what I have learned to those who need it so that they won’t feel like they are in the dark alone in the same way I once did. Please remember that if you are also struggling, even if you feel alone, you are not alone, and you are never truly alone. Take care of yourself. The world will need you when the right moment comes. Thank you for being here with me, regardless whether this is your first time here or not. For those of you who have been here before, I am sorry it took so long for me to come back and finish what I started. I love you and I hope you have been well. I hope I can again be worthy of your time.

We will be together until the end.

- pyrrhocorax

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