#and that throughout the series he's struggled with anxiety about what they do and his own potential

[antiquarianandunusual]

“Penelope’s betrayal in Sly Cooper 4 didn’t have some secret reason, it was just bad writing” LET ME BE IN DENIAL, DAMMIT!!

[simp-ly-writes]

A Shadow Company Visit (pt.3)

Can be read as a standalone.

Pairing: Commander Philip Graves x Reader & Shadow Soldiers

Summary: What happens when you show the Shadows the newest addition to the company? (plus task force 141).

Warnings: 1000+ words, a bit of overprotective themes, mentions of anxiety and children, light teasing.

A/N: okay... this should be the last of my kinda headcannons... for now lol. no mentions of pregnancy.

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

A Shadow Company Visit Series (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) you are here

↳ The entire headquarters is silent as they all stare at their commander in a mix of shock, awe and them overwhelming excitement as they all cheer for their new sibling

↳ Graves shares a video of the event with you later that night in bed while holding your frame against his chest, smiling softly while moving your hair out of your eyes as feels you giggle and kick your feet slightly in reaction

↳ The once tension throughout the base from your missing appearance was replaced with ease as Graves returned to work the next day; thankful as ever- the ER Tent had never seen so much popularity than it did then

↳ When the child arrives and all the documentation if filled. Graves takes some time away from the Shadow Company; much to the Shadows disappointment yet understanding of the situation and leaves a board of commanding officers in charge

↳ You take leave from your work as well; all hands are on deck as you watch Graves run around and turn the house baby-proof as you struggle to console the crying child, the stressed retired K9 you both rescued and build the rocking chair; Chaos to say the least...

↳ Yet as the weeks and months go on; you both find enough rhythm within this new family dynamic to somewhat return to your jobs. You decided to turn your job completely online for the rest of the year and do your work from home

↳ Some days, Philip begs for you to take a day away with him to the company since you're other 500 shadow children miss you as well... guilt starting to eat you alive; you agree to a nanny for the day as you hop into the black company truck

↳ Going through an all too familiar gate with ease, Philip glances other at your laughing- reminiscing form, his hand holding your thigh as he drives and later parks the vehicle

↳ Walking around the other side he helps you down as you make your way throughout the complex, giving your hellos and hugs back to everyone; large smiles spread across everyones faces; happy to have you back (snacks and band-aids much appreciated)

↳ While taking a break in the office, Philip makes a few too many jokes on having a 2nd child already as you glare at his head and mention back to the 500 other shadow children that need both of your attention as well

↳ You both hear footsteps run down the hallway from the doorframe as you both shake your heads at their childish antics

↳ As your baby turns into a toddler and grows throughout the years. You both decide to finally bring them on base for a small tour... all the Shadows coo lovingly at them in Philips arms; he holds them with pride against the uniform as their small hands grasp at the patches

↳ The child goes through parts of the obstacle course and everyone cheers encouragements as you hold them through it. Philip waits at the end of the course and gives them a sticker badge while setting them atop his shoulders, tickling the bottoms to their shoes as you snap a picture of the scene

↳ You feed everyone at the cafeteria and everyone rushes over with napkins as the child spills their cup and worries about you catching a cold from the cool liquid seeping into your shirt

↳ You end up switching into one of Philips deployment shirts, a blue-button-up after he complains about investors looking at you too long.

↳ Nearing the late afternoon, you place earcovernings over the child and your head as you show them all the aircraft that they look at with wonder; a little pilot we have here, you think to yourself- not noticing that you said to aloud as a hum of approval is sounded from behind you both

↳ Taking the child in arms quickly, you hide them behind your frame as Shadows rush over, noticing your distressed state from a distance. Another fumbles for a phone to contact their commander in a moments notice if needed

↳ Yet once you see that it is only Laswell and the 141 task force, you way your hand as everyone stands at ease once more and returns to their duties, taking the time to ensure your safety in the hanger before leaving fully

↳ Laswell rushes up, her baby fever hitting an all time high as she uncharacteristically giggles while holding out her finger for them to wrap their hand around and squeal in reaction

↳ Soap jokingly covers his ears and Price smacks him upwards upon the back of his head. Simon gives you a sincere yet short congratulations from behind the mask; you see his eyes crinkle at the child in your arms as Gaz rushes over and asks to hold the little one

↳ While handing them over as Gaz places them on his back, airplane style and moving thew through the hanger, giggles echoing through the lofted space as you, Laswell and the Captain catch up (Ghost and Soap look at one another and the baby multiple times; you make no comments to this small observation)

↳ You hear a Shadow call the appearance of your partner from an approaching vehicle as it stops and they all stand to attention; he moves towards you smiling and then it falling when he notices the child missing in your arms and instead within Gaz's, "Don't drop my kid Kyle, I promise you that I'll burry your ass if you do so"

↳ "I'm not as cruel as you on a good-day can be Graves" Kyle responds back with vice; further covering the child's ears over the headphones and you mouth a thank you in their direction from the small yet welcomed action

↳ You pull on Philips tactical vest to give him a kiss on the cheek as a distraction against him building a rebuttal, he places an all too familiar hand across your lower back; tension throughout the group is apparent as the child is returned into your arms, resting their head against your shoulder as they mumble tired into your skin as you rock their frame gently against your body

↳ You step out of Philips hand as you use your other once to provide hugs to the visiting members and offer smiles once again. Whispering a last apology to them all as you step out with the sleeping child; moving towards the car parked outside

↳ As you step into the vehicle you watch as Philip gives out strict commands to your driver to safely transport you both back home; the Shadow nods confidently back- they would never risk your or their siblings safety; no matter the cost and that was an answer their commander loved to hear as they patted them on their shoulder and steps back into the hanger to further address he guests on the next mission

↳ You watched as Philip confidently strut his way across the pavement while rubbing the back of your child's back; a smile finding its way across your features once more, the child sighing happily in your arms as you relaxed against the leather seats. You hoped that life would continue to go this way, together as one large (and slightly dysfunctional) shadow company family

↳ the car stops and a message echos throughout the interior of the vehicle quietly, purposefully trying not to awake the child, "we have arrived"

╰┈➤ A/N: And that is part 3 completed! (and maybe the finish to this series) what did you all think of it all? :)

A Shadow Company Visit Series (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) you are here

Tags: @unicorngirly1 , @rockcollector3000 , @coffeeandtealol

[agirlwithdemonblood]

Through The Shadows: Chapter 5 - Glimmer of Light

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Series Summary: A hunter's Journey through despair and recovery is guided by Dean Winchester's unwavering love, leading her to reclaim her strength, voice and hope for their shared future.

Chapter Summary: Y/N wakes up next to Dean which should be the dream, but she worries it's a nightmare.

Warnings: Anxiety, mentions of anxiety.

A/N: I wanted to just add/mention that this Dean Winchester is how I picture him, some may not agree that he's a huge softie down under but I would picture him being one, so if you don't like it you don't have to read it! <3

Series Masterlist here!! & Main masterlist here!

Dean spent the night tossing and turning, his mind replaying the intense conversation he's had with Y/N. The raw honestly of her struggles had shaken him, and he worried that his questions might have been too much.

By morning, his concern had only grown when he didn't see Y/N at the breakfast table, or anywhere throughout the day. Anxiety knawed at him as he paced the bunker's hallway. Eventually, he approached Sam who was in the library.

"Hey Sam." Dean began, trying to keep his voice steady. "Can you check on Y/N? She hasn't been out of her room all day and I'm worried I might have pushed too far with the questions last night."

Sam glanced up from his book, a mix of concern and surpise spread across his features. "Yeah, I'll go see her."

Dean watched as his brother headed down the hallway, his stomach knotting with anticipation. He waited, the minutes stretching into what felt like hours. When Sam finally returned, Dean was on his feet in an instant.

"Well?" Dean questioned, his voice tight with worry.

Sam's expression was a mix of optimism and concern. "She wants to see you, go talk to her."

Dean's heart pounded as he made his way to Y/N's room. He knocked softly on the door and her quiet voice invited him in.

She was laying in bed, her face pale but a small, hesitant smile played on her lips as she looked up at him. "Hey Dean." She spoke softly.

Dean's worry softened into gentle concern. "Hey. Are you okay?"

She shrugged slightly her smile fading. "It's been a rough morning."

Dean moved closer, his eyes scanning hers. "Anxiety level? 1-10?"

Her eyes flickered with a mix of vulnerability and gratitude. "About an eight."

His heart ached at her honesty. "Was it the questions last night? Were they too much?"

Her hand moved to his, resting softly. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's just something I have to ride out."

Dean nodded, feeling a bit helpless. He gave her a gentle smile and stood to leave, thinking she may need some space, when her voice stopped him.

"Dean?" She asked, her voice unsettled.

"Yeah?" He turned back towards her with a glimpse of hope.

"Could you... stay for a bit? Maybe watch some Scooby-Doo with me?"

A smile tugged at Dean's lips, and he nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that."

He settled onto the bed beside her, the space between them filled with a comforting warmth. "Y/N clicked on the TV, navigating to a classic episode. As the familiar theme song played, Dean couldn't help but chuckle, the nostalgic tunes lightening the atmosphere."

They watched in silence for a while, the antics of the Mystery Inc gang playing out on the screen. Dean found himself laughing at Shaggy and Scooby's cowardly yet endearing behaviour. Beside him, Y/N's tense shoulders gradually relaxed, her breathing evening out as she absorbed the simple joys of the cartoon.

Dean glanced at her, noticing the soft smile spread across her face. "Feeling any better?" he asked gently.

She nodded, a genuine smile playing on her lips as she met his gaze. "Yeah, a bit. Thanks for staying."

Dean's heart swelled with affection, his earlier worries fading. "Anytime."

As the episode ended and another began, Y/N found herself stealing glances at Dean. His easy laughter and the way he relaxed beside her brought a comforting prescense she hadn't expected.

She reminded herself of the promise she'd made: not to fall in love with him. But as she watched him laugh and lose himself in the simple pleasure of the show, she realized just how difficult that promise might be to keep.

The morning streamed into Y/N's room, waking her gently. She blinked sleepily, her eyes adjusting to the light, and realized with a start that she wasn't alone. Dean was beside her, his arm draped over his eyes, still fast asleep.

Panic surged through her as she slipped out of bed as quietly as possible, her heart racing.

Her breath came in rapid, shallow bursts as she hurried down the hallway to find Sam. She found him in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee and flipping through a newspaper.

"Sam!" she said, her voice high and strained.

Sam looked up, immediately noticing her distress. "Y/N? What's wrong."

She fidgeted, her hands trembling. "Dean and I... we fell asleep together last night. I asked him to stay and now i feel like I crossed a boundary and what if he's mad? What if-"

"Whoa, slow down." Sam said, setting his coffee aside and standing up. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You fell asleep watching TV, right? It's no big deal. It happens."

"But I feel guilty." She said, her breaking. "Like I made him stay and now he'll hate me for it. My mind keeps telling me he's going to be angry."

Sam gently guided her outside, to the fresh air and open space of the bunker's entrance. "Let's sit for a minute, okay? Just breathe."

Y/N nodded, trying to follow his lead as they sat on the steps. She took a deep breath, the cool air helping to calm her racing heart.

"It's okay." Sam said soothingly, "Dean's not the type to get upset over something like this. It was an accident. You just need to talk to him."

As if on cue, the door creaked open behind them, and Dean stepped out, his face etched with concern. "What's going on?" he asked, his eyes shifting between Sam and Y/N.

Sam looked at Y/N, giving her a reassuring nod. "Do you want to talk to Dean?"

She hesitated, then nodded, her anxiety making her voice shaky. "Yes."

"I'll give you guys some privacy." Sam said, squeezing her shoulder before heading back inside.

Dean moved closer, his worry evident. "Y/N, are you okay?"

Her panic flared, her breathing becoming erratic and unstable causing her to be unable to form words. "Just... a minute."

Dean knelt beside her, his voice calm and steady. "Okay, take your time. Breathe with me, alright? In through your nose, out through your mouth."

She tried to follow his instructions, focusing on his voice. Gradually, her breathing slowed, and the tightness in her chest began to ease.

After a few moments, she felt steady enough to speak. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice a mere whisper. "I didn't mean to make you stay last night. I feel like i crossed a boundary and I'm scared you're mad at me."

Dean's expression softened, his eyes full of empathy. "Hey, it's alright. You didn't make me do anything I didn't want to. We were watching Scooby-Doo, and we just... fell asleep. No big deal."

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty. "Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden."

His heart ached at her vulnerability. "I'm sure. You're not a burden, Y/N. I was happy to stay with you. If anything, I enjoyed it. It's okay."

She took a deep breath, relief washing over her. "Okay. Thank you."

Dean hesitated, then asked gently. "Can I give you a hug?"

She paused, her anxiety flaring up briefly, but then nodded. "Yes."

He wrapped his arms around her gently, feeling a bit lighter. Dean offered her a warm smile. "How about we head back inside?"

She nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. "Yeah, that sounds good."

They walked back into the bunker together, side by side, their steps a little lighter and their connection a little deeper.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 6 coming soon stay tuned!

Like, comment, and reblog, feedback is my fuel 💕

[kaladinstormblessed09]

I finished RoW and now I don’t know what to do with myself. Please no spoilers for any of the secret projects and TLM. I haven’t read them yet. Also there’ll be bands of mourning spoilers in the review along with RoW

I loved all of Kaladin’s arc. I suffer from depression as well, so it was so relatable to see a main character in a fantasy series struggling too. And he struggles. This book Kaladin hits the lowest point. Starting from chapter 10 when he gets discharged, I cried on his behalf. I knew it was necessary. He kept freezing in the middle of the battle, but Kal was feeling betrayed by Dalinar even when he knew it was the right decision, and I felt the same. Even though I knew this was the right decision. He needed to be away from the fighting, from the battle. Kaladin’s scenes with Wit during the middle of his nightmare was one of my favorite moments in all stormlight. Wit tells kaladin that he'll be warm again, and I’ll hold Brandon to this. You cannot kill Kal off after you promised him that he'll be okay. Brandon, I’ll come for you. Don’t you dare hurt kal. And then Moash kills Teft. Sigh. This was spoiled for me, so all through the book I kept waiting for this. It was not a good experience. I thought he was going to die when the tower got taken, but then he didn’t. And I just wanted to get it over with, because it gave me so much anxiety knowing what happens but not when. I was almost relieved when Moash (I’m not calling him Vyre, that pretentious asshole) shows up. I knew it was about to happen now. I was mentally ready, but it still hurt so much. I cried the most in Row. Kaladin being catatonic holding Teft’s dead body is an image that will haunt me, and I’ll never forgive Moash. I don’t want a redemption arc for him. And before all Moash apologists come for me, it’s not because he killed Elhokar. I get that. It’s because he tried to manipulate Kaladin into killing himself. He used the things Kaladin told him in confidence and used them to get him to commit suicide. He was going to kill Lirin to use his death to further manipulate Kal, and he killed Teft. I don’t fucking care what deep reasoning you use to explain why he did what he did I don’t forgive him. And death is too easy for him. I want him to live with the pain. I want odium to stop taking away his pain. Even if Kaladin someday forgives him, which I don’t think he should. He killed Teft, I will never forgive him.

Lirin really annoyed me all throughout the book. He told kaladin at one point that he should’ve been a good slave, then maybe all these wouldn’t have happened to him. And just for that fuck Lirin. He’s a pacifist to the point where he maintains the status quo, and these types of people annoy me. If you want to live under the oppression good for you, but don’t begrudge the resistance. In the end he pulls through though. Now be a better father to Kal. Don’t call him a monster, or I’ll come for you Lirin. I’ll learn how to isekai into books and give Kal all the love that he deserves.

We barely got any Dalinar povs, and I’m mostly fine with it. I didn’t want to see the campaign at Emul, it’s just another battle. But I wanted more Jasnah. Jasnah/Wit relationship caught me off guard, because I always head cannoned Jasnah as a lesbian, but now I think she’s asexual? Someone please correct me if I’m wrong. It’s just really weird to see Wit/Hoid in a relationship. In the epilogue, did someone really got one over Hoid? Or was Hoid pretending? I can never tell with him. Also, the leader of the ghostsblood was Kelsier all along! And he named himself Lord of Scars. That’s the stupidest name ever. I love him so much! I have missed him.

I really liked all the fused stuff. Leshwi was one of my faves. I liked her and Kaladin’s on/off enmity. It was a fascinating dynamic. Actually, Brandon did such a good job with the characterization of the fused. Raboniel being my favorite. She was such a good character. She reminded me a bit of a mix of Semirhage/Ishamael from WoT. Her just trying to end this war that just goes on and on for eternity. Her motivations were so understandable. When she killed her daughter to save her from infinite torture I cried so much. The dynamic between her and Navani made me forget about Dalinar. I wanted them to get together and do science.

Navani was such a standout character. I love her, even though a lot of the science stuff went over my head. Her dealing with her imposter syndrome while inventing new fabrials and creating anti-voidlight. Aaaah the whole process was so freaking amazing. It makes me so mad to think about the prologue where Gavilar was such a shit to her. I’m glad he died, and that we get to see him die over and over again. I called it from the moment sibling was introduced that Navani would bond her and it felt so good when that happened!

I’m probably forgetting so much, but I had a blast. I inhaled this book in less than a week, and I kind of want to reread from TWoK again now. Waiting till December is going to be brutal. I’m so excited for Wind and Truth. I think it’ll be Szeth’s book. He’s such an underrated character and now him and Kal are teaming up to go to Shinovar. I can’t wait!

[usernamesarehard1]

I feel like we don't talk enough about Call's backstory. I mean, it was really tragic and set the stage for all of his emotional turmoil throughout the series.

He lives in a town where his dad is considered crazy/insane/etc, and so everyone assumes that Call is crazy too or that Alastair is causing some kind of harm to him.

Adults and children alike hate him solely because they don't understand him. He is literally physically and verbally attacked and beaten constantly by his classmates for being disabled and for being "weird", and the teachers do nothing about it. Like he actually canoncially experiences constant abuse

And then he gets home and he can't even really open up to his dad, the ONLY person in his life, because Alastair is so emotionally closed off due to his own traumas. And then he has to worry about Alastair instead of worrying about himself.

Like, Call was literally traumatized and thought that he was an awful person because everyone told him he was and physically punished him for his existence.

And I am in no way an expert on any psychological disorders but when I have read about the basics of certain ones, it would not surprise me if Call would be diagnosed with some of them irl. Like when I was researching "quiet bpd" at one point it sounded just like Call to me. He has no sense of person identity and tears himself down inside thinking he is a terrible person, while simultaneously going back and forth between putting his friends on a pedestal and distrusting them entirely. And we see in the books how he is very clingy to Aaron and Tamara, especially Aaron, and has to use them as a safety net for himself. And how he is just constantly terrified of abandonment, especially by Aaron and Tamara. And how he isolated himself so much and struggles to process or express his emotions.

And when I read a bit about ODD (oppositional defiance disorder) I sounded similar to Call. Like, Call does seem to have a distrust for and rejection of authority in the beginning of the series, which makes sense because the authority in his life (teachers, etc) only put him down for struggling. It isn't until he realizes Rufus has his best interests at heart (most of the time) that be begins to trust him, but he is still very wary of the other Masters and Assembly members. And from what I have read ODD tends to primarily affect children and becomes easier to move past as they get older so Call slowly becoming more trusting of authority over the course of the books makes sense.

(Sorry if I didn't explain those things well, it's very indepth in my brain but hard to put into words)

Obviously these two diagnoses are very broad spectrums but it would not surprise me if Call feel somewhere on them.

And then of course Call obviously has social anxiety and depression in the books. And it would not surprise me if he had some sort of PTSD going into the Magisterium based on his upbringing. And I have seen a few people say that his Evil Overlord List could be a sign of a specific type of OCD.

Like, Call was a KID. This was the only world he ever knew. In his most impressionable years he knew nothing but hate from people outside his family and very limited emotional support or connection inside his family.

Again, I'm no expert on any of these things. I just have basic info, but when I did learn immediately made me think of Call. Tbh I feel anxious about posting this because I'm terrified I have something wrong here or that i am misremembering something. I just wanted to share the connections my brain made.

I really wish the books had more about Call's friendship with Aaron and Tamara helping all of them to start heal through each other's comfort since none of them ever really had that emotional support prior to each other.

And tbh I'm kinda surprised Rufus didn't notice a lot of what was going on with Call. I really wish the books had delved into that more rather than having Rufus get mad at Call for his trauma responses.

Also, what happens when Call goes home during the summer (especially when Aaron wasn't there)? Was he attacked again? Was he verbally harassed again? Did he return to the Magisterium with bruises or anything? The books did say that he would often have injures from the attacks by his classmates (I remember them mentioning a black eye, split lip, and bandaged arm in one flashback).

I have just been thinking about it a lot recently.

[billfarrah]

@unfortunate17 and I were discussing Wille’s anxiety and how we don’t feel like Wille’s reluctance to partake in public speaking was a result of his anxiety, but rather his history of being forced to speak and say things he doesn’t mean and follow a script in order to preserve the reputation of his family and control the public’s perception of him. He was forced to follow a script three times in season 1 - the first when he had to apologize on TV for a fight he was not sorry about, when he had to read a written speech to his classmates regarding his brother who had just died, and when he was forced to lie about the video leading to the destruction of his relationship with Simon.

In my opinion Wille’s fear of public speaking in season 2 is not related to general or social anxiety - as I do not believe Wille has social anxiety at all and is not shy at all despite some people in the fandom tending to believe he is - but rather a fear of being perceived, because that is ultimately Wille’s main struggle in the series - not being with a boy, not being in love with a gay, not being queer, but being perceived by others and feeling forced to live up to a certain standard or expectation when all he wants to do is live his life truthfully and without people having opinions about the things he does.

What’s so powerful and beautifully written about the scenes with Boris is that even though Wille is made to see a therapist by his mother, the Queen, who is the one who persuaded/forced him speak out when he didn’t want to, Wille’s sessions with Boris are the first time he is told he doesn’t have to say anything if  he doesn’t want to, and the confidentiality of their sessions and Boris’ position as an unbiased professional allows him to be more honest with not only himself, but with another person without feeing like he is being judged or forced to feel or believe something he doesn’t.

We see in season 1 episode 4, when Wille goes off script and speaks from the heart about Erik, and in season 2 episode 6 when he once again goes off script, that Wille really has no issues with speaking to a crowd, but only when he feels he’s being truthful and honest and in control of the narrative. His fear of speaking in the class presentation, in my opinion, has a lot to do with how out of control of his own narrative Wille felt throughout season 2 as a result of the lie at the end of season 1 and the events of season 2 - he is perceived by his classmates now as having denied being a part of the video, as if it was something to be ashamed of, he is perceived as being interested in Felice when in reality he’s desperately in love with Simon. He just wants to exist and stay true to himself and it scares him to do it in front of an audience, and that’s what makes it so powerful when we see him slowly begin to accept how he feels about himself and the circumstances of his life through the sessions with Boris, and how that results with him re-taking control of his own narrative at the Jubilee at the end of the season, and that’s just beautiful writing.

[sorcerersandskillusers]

A look at the struggles Atsushi faces throughout the series, and how he grows to resent the justice he was forced to learn. As well as his connections and contrasts with Akutagawa.

Atsushi is very different from a typical protagonist, who try's to save everybody they can, and never wants to kill anyone. Because he didn't develop this mindset from an inspiring, kind mentor; or from some innate sense of justice, or even from just his own hardships.

It was literally beaten into him through his whole childhood.

graphic depiction of abuse ahead:

Atsushi is compelled to help people. I defiantly think part of it is that he is just a kind person in general, but It is also a compulsion that he cannot refuse.

He is forced to disregard his own feelings and safety, he suffers so much pain, but he can never refuse, which is why he views it as a curse.

In BSD killing is not treated with the same 'good people can never, ever be willing to kill someone' that a lot of shows treat it as.

The entire ADA minus Kunikida was willing to try and kill Mori to save Fukuzawa. Fukuzawa has killed in the past, and told Kunikida to shoot Dazai if he sensed any evil in his heart(Dazai Osamu's Entrance Exam). Kunikida has been shown to be willing to kill if absolutely necessary

I point this out to show that Atsushi's refusal to kill is not just 'because he's a good guy and would never do that'. We see in BEAST that, if twisted a bit, he can be made to kill without hesitation. His refusal to kill comes from a much darker place, and makes him a perfect foil to...

Akutagawa.

Akutagawa and Atsushi have incredibly similar histories, It's literally spelled out in BEAST that the two of them have more in common then they have with anyone else. Both children raised in hell. But there was one key difference, The value they saw in the lives of others.

I've already talked about how Atsushi was raised to think that his own life had no worth, and only the lives of others mattered. But for Akutagawa it was the opposite. He grew up in the slums, where every stranger was a potential threat to him, his friends and sister. He had to learn to kill without hesitation, and to see no value in anyone else's life.

Dazai only made this worse, telling Akutagawa that if he couldn't defeat anyone in his path, that he had no right to live. And brutally punishing any sign of weakness.

Both Akutagawa and Atsushi search desperately for validation, and the right to keep living. They walk on opposite sides of a mirror, each only seeing half the picture, neither willing to see themself in the other.

Which is why they can both show the other exactly what they need to see.

The two of them hate each other so much because they are the same ,they each embody what the other most hates about himself and this is why they can each teach to other to overcome that hatred and to see the whole picture they were both denied as children.

Their growth over this past few arcs; with The death of the orphanage director, Akutagawa that killing everything won't solve all his problems, Atsushi having to stand up and pull himself together to save the ADA.

Akutagawas greatest flaws were his short-sightedness, and inability to see beyond himself and learn from his mistakes.

While Atsushi's greatest flaws were his crippling anxiety and indecision, as well as inability to let go of his past.

Opposite ends of the same spectrum, so now they must guide each other to the middle and find a balance.

Finally, the 'promise not to kill anyone for six months' with this, Atsushi is showing Akutagawa the value that can be seen in the lives of others. We see this in the security guard Akutagawa spared being the one to distract Fukuchi and let Atsushi escape. Akutagawa seems to have truly grown a lot since he and Atsushi last saw each other. But what about Atsushi?

Spoilers for chapter 107:

I think that Atsushi will kill Akutagawa. We know that Akutagawa died before he was converted into a vampire, and with his lung condition being established just before then, even if they find a way to revert him, he would still be nearly at the end of his life.

I think that Akutagawa will probably temporarily regain control of his body, but be unable to revert fully, so he will ask Atsushi for that duel he promised him. It would even parallel Atsushi "killing" Shibusawa in TDA, since both were technically already dead to begin with.

Atsushi taught Akutagawa how to value lives, and the patience to consider his actions and Akutagawa will teach Atsushi the conviction to take them and how overcome the guilt he feels within himself. each one going from black and white, to grey.

[theweeklydiscourse]

The Case Against Immortal Darklina: How Do You Finish Shadow and Bone?

How could you end Shadow and Bone in a satisfying and conclusive way? That is the question I have been asking myself since I finished Ruin and Rising for the first time and I have come up with many alternatives over the years. But as I have developed my understanding of storytelling, I feel that concluding the character arcs of Darklina in a satisfying way must consider the question of immortality posed throughout the series. This question often goes hand in hand with what Shadow and Bone attempts to say about power, but I feel that it’s assessment of immortality is far more compelling. Therefore, much of my ideas for an ending are centred around the natural conclusion of Aleksander’s character arc along with Alina’s role as a hero.

As appealing as the idea of Darklina being sexy immortal rulers for all of eternity is (and believe me, it is very tempting), my ideal ending for the two of them is a bit different. In my opinion, I believe that a satisfying ending would be a happy one, and I don’t think that could happen if they stayed immortal. I’m a sucker for romance and I believe that the two of them need to find some form of balance in order to conclude the story. Darklina is already the most compelling relationship in the trilogy, but I believe that the conclusion of that relationship is depressing and lacklustre in canon and ultimately does not address what both characters need. Both of them struggle with a want versus need dilemma that is either unresolved by the end, or contradicted. Therefore, to get to the bottom of this issue we must begin with what is is that they want and what they need.

The Existential Terror of Being an Immortal Shadow Wizard

Aleksander’s goal is to lead. Aleksander describes himself as the only one who can liberate the country from the King’s tyranny and incompetence, but it is not lost on me that there is an inevitability to his words. It is a conclusive statement that signal Aleksander’s deeper understanding and feelings in the nature of humanity.

Aleksander sees no other viable option for leadership aside from himself and it’s understandable why he believes that. In this passage, he says that someone has to lead and through that leadership they will be able to end “this” which I can infer is in reference to the war and the persecution of Grisha. He’s spent the past few centuries carrying the cause for Grisha liberation as one immortal man. Although we can imagine that there were many others that helped him along the way, at the end of the day, he is the only person who can continue the movement. So after witnessing atrocities, injustice and oppression, it is clear as to why he is so insistent on being the one to lead the country. Because after all these years, his motivation to liberate Grisha has never wavered and has remained strong even in the face of generations of incompetent and greedy monarchs.

However, this sentiment he reveals in Shadow and Bone hints at the greater anxiety he has about progress being lost and all of his efforts going to waste. Aleksander fundamentally does not believe in humanity and is cynical about their capacity to change, as such his goal is one that would position him as a constant figure who could oversee them for eternity. This anxiety is expanded upon in Ruin and Rising. In one passage, Aleksander verbalized what I believe to be his thesis statement as to why he is doing all of this.

Based on what he’s seen, the things he has experienced and the setbacks he’s faced over the course of centuries, he looks to the future and sees the death of mankind. He sees the death of his people, his nation, his family and friends and stares directly into the abyss of eternity. But continuously living in a thousand moments for hundreds of years is something that wears away at his spirit. He is deeply cynical (for good reason) and has lost any faith that the otkazat’sya will ensure that the hard earned progress he achieved stays for good.

His sacrifices and struggles are lost to time while his souls is ground into dust. As such, he must always be there to make sure that progress is maintained. Aleksander only trusts in himself to carry the movement forwards and thus, bears the burden of liberation alone. While he’s not entirely wrong to be cynical, and concerned for the future. He ultimately condemns himself to a life of loneliness and ache that causes him to desperately cling to the possibility of an immortal companion.

This is why I believe that an ending where he stays immortal would not solve his problem. Even if the Grisha are liberated and they find a place in Ravkan society, the anxiety that it will all be taken away one day will still plague him. These fears push him towards control because he bears the weight of an entire community and cannot risk leaving their safety to the uncertainty of a future without him.

*sigh* Trust me, I can’t believe what I’m about to say either but..

There was a scene in Ruin and Rising where…Mal actually makes a pretty good point.

I know, I know. I don’t get it. I just know there’s no way to live without pain—no matter how long or short your life is. People let you down. You get hurt and do damage in return. (…) That’s weakness. That’s a man afraid.” (Ruin and Rising, Chapter 14)

Aleksander can talk all he wants about how he’s been able to bear immortality, but he cannot conceal the fact that this apathy and detachment comes from a place of fear. Therefore, he must confront that fear of pain in order to overcome the obstacle of his eternal suffering.

“Why?” The word was a wail, a child’s cry. “Why would you do this? How can you do this? Don’t you feel any of it?”

“I have lived a long life, rich in grief. My tears are long since spent. If I still felt as you do, if I ached as you do, I could not have borne this eternity.” (Ruin & Rising, Chapter 15)

This passage occurs just after Aleksander kills Alina’s mother figure Ana Kuya and her mentor Botkin. He uses this act to make a point to Alina about the futility of seeking connections with others, but in doing so reveals the fear Mal speaks of.

“I remembered the Darkling’s words to me: There are no others like us, Alina. And there never will be.” (Ruin & Rising, Chapter 4)

If him and Alina pursued a relationship, it would still be only them. Aleksander is correct in saying that there are no others like them, but at the same time reiterates why that fact is extremely depressing. “And there never will be.”? So what does that leave us with? The idea that they’ll only have each other for the rest of time and that there is nothing they can do about it? I don’t want this ending for them. If they only have each other, they’ll only descend into a cycle of misery just as Aleksander and Baghra had before. Accepting Aleksander’s terms would mean accepting a life far removed from the community they both desire. Although Aleksander has accepted this isolation for the sake of Grisha liberation, his actions are still motivated by desperation and control.

It’s an understandable mindset to have, but what if there was another way?

The Other Way

My ideal ending is one where Alina and Aleksander cease to be immortal. Not that they lose their powers, just their immortality, placing them at a similar level as the other Grisha. Also, (it might be fanciful but) I imagine a scenario where their powers are halved and randomly distributed to people across Ravka just as Alina’s were in Ruin and Rising. There must be a renewal of hope as the new Sun and Shadow and summoners manifest across the country and thus, a responsibility placed upon Alina and Aleksander to teach them. Perhaps with Alina’s newfound hope and Aleksander’s wisdom, they could potentially educate the new generations about themselves and the history of Grisha. Making sure that the mistakes of the past and their sacrifices are not lost to time.

What if overseeing Ravka for eternity was never the answer? What if there is wisdom to be found in experiencing grief and pain from one’s connections to others? For Darklina to accept eternity would be for them to accept apathy and codependence and I don’t think that would solve their problems. I have always liked the idea of two lonely individuals finding a place in a community they were removed from for a long time. Aleksander created the Little Palace, but so long as he numbs himself and detaches himself from potential pain, he can never truly join the people he loves.

It’s just that I don’t think Alina joining him in eternity is the true solution to the problem. I feel that in order for there to be a “happy ending” or at least a satisfying one, Aleksander must come to terms with his cynicism about humanity and perhaps regain hope for the future. I like the idea of them coming together and deciding they want to give the new generations of Grisha what they never had and let their community embrace them in full. Maybe I’m being a bit fanciful (considering that I don’t really suggest alternative to the leadership situation in Ravka) but I think that on an emotional “happy ending” level I think that the two of them deserve to not only find belonging, but to choose to have faith in future generations.

[morurui]

I have 2 for the ask game (sorryyy)!!!

1 velociraptor

2 Ceratosaurus

Thank you for asking!

1. Velociraptor- What are your favorite episodes from both shows/across the seasons?

Choosing a favorite episode for both series is pretty hard, but if I had to choose out of a list I would have to pick The Long Run from Jwcc season 3 and Rest Stop from Jwct season 1. These two episodes are pretty different so I’ll talk about both of them separately. I love the long run because not only is it one of the major Yasammy episodes, but it also gives us an amazing exploration into Yasmina character. She begins the series off as a seemingly cold and stand offish person, but with the help of Sammy she eventually comes out of her shell. We see her do something she would’ve never previously done, which is risking her life for one of her dear friends. It just ties into Yaz’s overall character development very well and it’s such a powerful episode. When it comes to Rest Stop, the main reason why I love it so much is that it gives us insight into a post nublar Ben. (As you can tell I like the more character focused episodes rather than the more plot focused episodes) We see how his time on the island has affected him and while he doesn’t necessarily have ptsd it’s clear that he has anxiety and as a person with anxiety, it’s refreshing to see different types of anxiety portrayed in one show (Both Ben and Yaz struggle with it in different ways). I also love how it explores the Darius and Ben’s dynamic as I feel like their friendship was an essential part to Camp Cretaceous. I do wish the character moments we got from Ben in this episode persisted consistently throughout the rest of the season, but it’s an important episode to me. Also that moment where Darius is telling Ben to chill and Ben says something along the lines of “Don’t you think I want to, but I can’t!” Was so relatable. He’s just like me fr.

2. Ceratosaurus- Favorite character design from both series? (Also who in your personal opinion, had the best glow up from CC to CT)

My favorite character design from CC has to be Yaz, she’s so pretty and I just love how her athletic wear looks comfortable and also stylish and my favorite design from CT has to be either Darius or Ben, their designs both work for me. Darius’s being a logical evolution for his character and Ben’s being such a leap from his previous incarnations that it just makes sense. Also I think Ben and Sammy had the best glow ups I want to give them a smooch.

[zoloftkat]

I feel like I’m the only one who hates disbarred Phoenix. I can’t stand hobo him. I hate it so much it colored AA4 to the point I couldn’t truly appreciate Apollo till AA5. It’s an interesting idea but I feel like it’s so terribly incorporated until the last trial of AA4. Like it felt like I was thrown into boiling water and was expected to roll with it. Genuinely made me almost drop the series.

The way Phoenix was characterized always felt a little off and incomplete—I found myself liking it more when he wasn’t featured. The attempt at creating emotional character growth for Phoenix as he deals with his own blunder of (unwittingly) submitting false evidence and his plans to enact justice in his own way, but also introducing Apollo, leads to both characters feeling heavily watered down. In turn making Phoenix feel mostly out of character.

If Phoenix’s own failings and Apollo’s frustration with the legal system took more precedence, that strain would have created a deeper emotional complexity. Phoenix fully taking on a mentor role, trying to grapple with the corruption of the legal system and his contribution to it, whilst seeing Apollo’s rightful disillusionment would have built more tension in the story and given Apollo and Phoenix better growth—highlighting this struggle, rather than it being oddly mentioned but not fully investigated, and quickly swept under the rug in cases 2 and 3, It would have made the final collision of these two ideologies in case 4 so much sweeter, as the friction would come to its climax, as even though Apollo ultimately gets to the truth, Apollo’s distrust in the system would hit its peak.

Additionally, aside from the mishandling of Phoenix’s disbarment and Apollo’s introduction, when he does comeback in game 5 it feels almost anticlimactic. His real first case while funny, wasn’t the comeback I was quite hoping for, and his actual reintroduction in turnabout countdown feels odd as Athena was capable at that point to defend on her own, but I think it would have been so much sweeter if he kept that mentor role throughout 1-4 of DD keeping that established anxiety from AA4 growing as we see the shambles the legal system has fallen into, and then defended for the first time (not necessarily when he got his badge back) in turnabout for tomorrow finally bringing the “dark age of the law” to a close facing his demons and blunders head on like he always has.

I guess that’s the issue. Phoenix is always charging forward, sticking to his morals and unwavering. And to see him truly rattled and vengeful in AA4 as he realizes how messed up things are, and to still continue charging forward, still pursuing for the love it, for his own moral righteousness, and the attempt to show this dynamic fails in AA4. But it didn’t have to. And instead of making this what could have been my favorite game, it becomes wasted potential—a memory of frustration and anguish.

I’m just irked. I was in angry tears for most of my AA4 play through. The connection between AA4 and AA5 felt weak and so much was left feeling unresolved in AA4. The second trilogy’s games suffer from the formula of the AA games and I find myself increasingly frustrated by it.

Side note: WHY DID THE JURIST SYSTEM just DISAPPEAR!? Like Phoenix has fought hard to do this to finally get Kristoph convicted, and it’s just not a part of Dual Destines. (not sure if it comes back in SOJ as I’m only on case 2) Also, the fact that Klaiver and Apollo seem almost unbothered by Kristoph’s misdeeds weakens not just Kristoph, but also makes those relationships feel superficial when they weren’t supposed to be.

Okay, I have said my piece, sorry I think about AA4 Phoenix and Apollo A LOT.

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝑭𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑳 𝑾𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑵 ║ Chapter 9 - Down To the Marrow

| FERAL WOMAN | series masterlist | main masterlist | | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 6.2k | CHAPTER WARNINGS: taking back control and a sense of ownership of your own body after it’s been taken from you is complicated :/

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: It’s the first advance into the more intimate connection you share with Joel, and you’re struggling to uphold your agreement to keep things moving slow. Even with Joel constantly pulling you both into something more deliberate and measured, you find yourself purposefully testing the extent of his self-control.

║ＰＲＥＶＩＯＵＳ ║⋄── •✧• ──⋄║ ＮＥＸＴ ║

Please read with caution if you have difficulties with works concerning: SA, physical violence, torture, captivity, trauma, and similar topics as they are discussed throughout the series. All highly sensitive portions WILL BE MARKED with my sensitive material banner if you wish to skip the more challenging portions. The sensitive material banner looks like this:

✧⋄⋆•✧⋄⋄⋆⋅⋆✧•✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆•⋆⋄── •✧• ──⋄⋆•⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧•✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧•⋆⋄ ✧ “𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚙. 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠.” ― Hᴇ́ʟᴇ̀ɴᴇ Cɪxᴏᴜs ✧⋄⋆•✧⋄⋄⋆⋅⋆✧•✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆•⋆⋄── •✧• ──⋄⋆•⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧•✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧•⋆⋄ ✧

Ever a man of his word, Joel took things slow. Painfully slow. Frustratingly slow. Your body is so incredibly alive for once, and you find yourself with the tedious, vexing task of walking it all backwards to cool things down at his request. He insisted on being completely transparent when you were communicating and navigating this new part of your relationship. Raw, open discussions were the fixed foundation for delving further into the physical and romantic aspects of your interactions.

It was freeing, in a way, knowing you had Joel’s explicit permission to share whatever came to your mind.  He wanted you to convey your thoughts, even if the“negative,” unpolished, or cryptic ones. He didn’t want you to edit yourself or your experiences with him. He gave a confident claim that there wasn’t anything you could say that would upset him or make him look at you differently. You weren’t so sure of that, but you really did try to be open and honest with him.

You can’t shake the apprehension about things he might want to share, things he might be mulling over in his own mind. As if you suspect if he ponders your pairing for too long he will see how incredibly imbalanced and unfulfilling it is for him. He didn’t regard you as some broken, tragic thing, but you still recognized the  softer approach he took with you. Careful in his choice of words, aiming to put things “the right way” so there was no room for misunderstanding. It was work for him, but it was work he was willing to take on. For the time being, at least.

It was skewed in your favor that you had the liberty to speak carte blanche while he relegated himself to a more measured approach, but there was a reason for that, after all. Joel had reminded you many times that just because something is equal doesn’t mean that it’s fair. The reality was that you’d come to Jackson under difficult circumstances with plenty of experiences and pain that Joel had never and would never personally know. What you needed and what he needed were different, and that was okay. At least, that’s what Joel told you time and time again.

“I just worry about certain things, honey.” You didn’t want him to worry. Not about you. You didn’t want to be a burden to him like that. 

“It ain’t your fault, but I’m nervous it’s just … gonna be one wrong move or word, somethin’ I don’t even do on purpose, and you’ll be runnin’ for the hills. Scared of me. Afraid of me like you used to be. I don’t think I could take that,” he’d admitted to you after you persuaded him to go into more detail about his anxieties.

You knew he was right, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating. You wanted to soak up as much of this wonderful thing as you could before it got away from you. It felt tenuous and fleeting, and that scared you.

You wanted him. You didn’t want to take this road alone. You wanted him right alongside you for every moment, good or bad. It felt safer that way. You felt safe knowing if something went sideways you wouldn’t be left to your own devices to figure out how to calm yourself down or determine what went wrong and where.

You enjoyed the thought of Joel’s eyes on you as you pulled back a layer from your protective shell. You liked the idea of awakening something inside yourself that had laid dormant for years or had never come alive before at all. You wanted Joel to spectate on your form, your presence, and your sounds.  You wanted him to help you take ownership of your body again, just like he had with your flower marking. 

When you were alone, there was a dull ache between your legs whenever you thought about Joel. But being next to him, live and in the flesh? So close to his warmth and his scent? Your fingers practically twitched of their own accord just imagining running your hands over your body while you were with him. You could feel your heartbeat pulsing in places that wouldn’t be polite to discuss outside the privacy of your own home.

You hadn’t orgasmed in a very long time. The first one in recent memory being when you were in Joel’s lap, rubbing yourself against his thigh as he kissed you. You hadn’t remembered what it felt like to climax. You aren’t sure you’d ever orgasmed before that, actually. You feel certain you would have remembered such a pleasant thing as that. But not everyone offered the same sort of companionship that Joel did. Perhaps it was uncommon to have partners as enrapturing, encouraging, and soothing as he was with you. No, Joel was different, and you knew that to be true without a shadow of a doubt.

Your past physical and sexual encounters had been far and few in between - thanks to the apocalypse - and practically all consensual experiences had been painful or rushed or one-sided relief. You don’t know what a “normal” sexual encounter is supposed to be like. But Joel does.

You’d told him your entire history of intimacy and sexual experiences, and he’d been hesitant to share his own afterward. You knew it had more to do with him realizing just how wide the chasm between your experiences was. He didn’t want to intimidate you. You didn’t want him to realize how much more he had to offer you than you had to offer him.

“I’m happy you know about all this sort of stuff. I know you can help me. It makes me feel better knowing I have someone who knows what it’s supposed to be like,” you’d told him.

He expressed his discomfort at being the supposed authority on the matter. He’d insisted things were different for everyone. Likes, dislikes, turn ons, turn offs. There was a whole new language of intimacy for you to adopt, but Joel made it feel less intimidating. 

In fact, you found yourself pushing against his willpower more often than not, trying to get him to give in a little more than he wanted to. You knew you shouldn’t, but this damn insatiable need for him scorched your insides. It was always urgent and mauling its way out of you, to reach out to him and drag him into you. To fuse your bodies together until they were one entity. 

He’d said his only reluctance was rooted in trepidation that something would happen to unnerve  you enough that you’d no longer want to continue seeing each other. There wasn’t anything Joel could possibly do that would ever make you feel that way, though. You knew it wasn’t possible.

Joel had said he liked your skirt, so you made sure it along with your t-shirt dress were always clean to wear. You’d picked up one more dress just in case it seemed like he was getting bored of your two other garments, but he hadn’t so far. Quite the opposite. Reacting to the sight of you in either of them with such eager praise that it still made your tongue feel heavy and your heart race.

When he made his return from the morning patrol shift, your eyes lit up as he an easy smile crept through the usual downturned line of his mouth.

“Hi, beautiful,” he murmurs quietly to you.

“H-Hey, handsome,” you reply with a nervous giggle.

His ear to ear grin is infectious. You still feel most proud of yourself when you make him smile or laugh, two things he isn’t often known to do easily, if at all.

You walk hand in hand to his house. You’re alone still when you get inside. Joel had previously agreed to Ellie’s plans of spending the afternoon with some friends. When you teased Joel about how nice that was of him, he grinned sheepishly  and admitted what you already knew: he’d wanted more time alone with you. A self-serving motivation, but it was a good thing for Ellie to be making friends around town, anyway.

You remove your shoes and jackets at the front door and head to the kitchen like you usually do. Your t-shirt dress isn’t flowy like your skirt, but it hits higher - just above your knee. When you sit at the kitchen table with your untouched glass of water, the bottom edge of your dress rides up to the middle of your thighs. You keep clocking Joel stealing glances at your legs. You wonder if he likes them. You wonder what his favorite part of your body is.

He clears his throat and looks away from your legs. “Your wrist ain’t givin’ you any trouble is it?”

“Nope. Not anymore. Swept today and everything at the station. Not even a pinch,” you chirp.

“Hm, that’s good. And, uh, the flower mark?  Should be gettin’ close to how it’s gonna look when it’s all done healin’.”

You smile across the table at him. “Oh, yeah. It’s healing really nice,” you report with delight.

He nods as he sips on his sweet tea. “Good to hear, honey. Good to hear.” He taps a fidgety finger on the table as he looks at the spot on your thigh where the marking sits just below the fabric.

You invite any excuse to be close to him, so you stand and walk over. “You can see it’s scabbing around the edges, but it’s, like, sharp or whatever you said, so the lines should end up really clean.”

You curl a finger under the hem of your dress and pull the sliver of fabric up your thigh, creating a slit of bare skin along the outer portion of your thigh for Joel to observe the progress of your healing. Your brow scrunches when he makes a strange noise in the back of his throat. He looks pained, somehow.

“MMmmfffgghh. Alright. Yep. Okay. You gotta– Ya can’t just– let’s just not be haulin’ our clothes up like that, sweetheart, okay?” he chokes. 

“But it’s– you said to not have stuff rubbing on it, and I just… is it my body?” Your lip wobbles in confusion.

He’d seen this part of you before when he fixed your mark. Did he not like it anymore? You begin to panic. Did your body repulse him now? Was this not how things were meant to go? Should you not present parts of yourself to him unless he tells you to? Should it be him that takes while you silently give? If he doesn’t like your body anymore, what value still remains? What else could you offer him to keep his interest and attention?

“Nah, look, it’s not that… it’s jus’... christ,” he laughs under his breath and looks away from you. He seems nervous suddenly. It makes you nervous.

“Why-Why are you being like that? I don’t u-understand what’s wrong,” you push.

Joel’s expression softens when he recognizes your uncertainty to his reaction. His eyes flicker to your hips and lower belly as if he was struck with the reality that you have nothing on underneath your dress. When his eyes flash back up to you, he grows embarrassed at openly ogling you.

“Sorry,” he mutters. He pulls in a big breath of air and relaxes his shoulders. “C’mere.”

He holds an open arm out to you. You quickly settle onto his lap and face him sideways.

“S’this okay?” he asks as he brings his arms around you.

You nod but are still anxious to understand what has him acting this way.

“You gotta say it, honey. I need to hear it, alright?” he prods.

“Yes, I like it, Joel. I do. I really do,” you insist. “I just … are you… do you want me to leave?”

Joel’s head inches back in a snap. His brows pinch together as he cocks his head to the side.

“Leave? Why would I want  you to leave?”

You squirm awkwardly in his lap. You must have misread the situation. He shakes his head and closes his eyes for a moment.

“This is what I’m talkin’ about, alright? You ‘n me are havin’ two different conversations ‘cause we’re not explainin’ ourselves right.” He places a gentle, encouraging press of his lips against yours before pulling away all too soon. When you go to chase after his mouth, he chuckles but holds you away from him a bit.

“I know, honey. Trust me, I know,” he laughs breathily. “I want it, too.”

You feel a flood of relief at his words. He still wants your body. He still wants you.

“Why did you act like you didn’t like seeing my body?” you mumble.

Joel’s loud laugh startles you for a moment before you’re grinning shyly at him.

“Don’t like seein’ your body? PPffffttttt,” he snorts. He seems genuinely amused by your take. “You’re givin’ me way too much credit, darlin’,” he laughs. “I’m a pretty simple guy, and it don’t take much from you to get me goin’.”

“What does that mean? What do you mean?” you press.

He tilts his head as he considers you. “It means you were just tryna show me your mark and how it’s healin’, but all I saw was your skin and your thigh and… christ,” he sighs. “In case you hadn’t noticed, you have quite the effect on me. I’m just tryna keep my head on straight when you get me like that.”

Your brows scrunch and lift. He smiles to himself, shaking his head with closed eyes and a soft chuckle.

“Jus’ look down,” he explains.

Your gaze drops to his lap where a very large bulge is protruding in the crotch of his jeans. You realize he had been angling you away from it so it wouldn’t surprise or upset you.

“Oh,” you breathe.

“Yeah,” he laughs low. “Exactly.”

You savor the way his body responds to such a simple thing as seeing more of your unclothed form.

“Can I….?” You gesture down. You could make him feel good. He would like that. It’s something you know how to do. You could do that for him. Your stomach suddenly feels funny.

The self-deprecating levity in Joel’s demeanor is gone in a flash. He’s suddenly very austere and solemn. “M’not sure that’s the best idea. Probably not where we should start, I mean.”

“So where should we start?” you urge in a breathy sigh.

“Let’s just sit on the couch together, alright?” he suggests. 

“Okay,” you agree nervously.

“And not like last time,” he adds quickly. “No pressure for … neither one of us has to, ya know– we can just keep it real simple this time. No expectations for anything.”

You relax again and nod with a smile. “Okay.”

You manage to convince Joel to lay down together on the couch. It’s not long before you’re exploring each other’s tongues and mouths. You switch between laying beside each other or with you on top of him. It feels better that way. Safer. 

That normally dull ache between your legs has ignited into something you can’t ignore. It’s throbbing and demanding. You covertly slip your hand under your dress and cup yourself, not yet dipping between the folds where you can feel sticky, slippery wet seeping out.

You occasionally feel Joel hard against your body when he presses into you. You know you should be attending to him first, but your body is screaming for contact and friction where your hand is already resting. It feels like an itch being scratched, a sort of relief that leaves you wanting more, but it also feels strange to be exploring yourself like this.

You draw a low groan from Joel when you nip at his bottom lip, and your hips jerk forward involuntarily in response. He pulls back quickly, uncertain if you’re uncomfortable or just readjusting, and his face darkens with want when he sees your hand rubbing against your dark thatch of curls. You hastily drop your hand and squeeze your thighs together.

“Whatcha doin’?” he drawls playfully.

“Nothing,” you answer quickly. 

You shove down the hem of your dress to cover yourself as though that would make Joel forget he’d just seen you tending to yourself instead of him. Your eyes dart across his face, looking for any sign of upset.

“I won’t do it again,” you promise.

Joel seems to pick up on the fact that you’re not just acting a little shy after he caught you touching yourself.

“Hey, no, it’s alright,” he soothes.

“But it’s not–I mean, I was–But you’re still,” you trip over your words. You gesture down to his hardon straining against his jeans when you can’t quite figure out how to say it. How to tell him you’re sorry for putting your pleasure before his. A few beats pass in confused silence from Joel.

“Wait, you mean…,” he trails off. He sucks in a breath and shuts his eyes like he’s suddenly trying to keep from getting angry. When he opens them and levels a stare at you, you swallow thickly.

“You need to understand somethin’. I don’t give a damn about what I’m gettin’ outta this equation right now, you hear me? That ain’t for you to worry about right now, alright? This ain’t about what I need. Not today. You understand?”

“You’re not upset? I didn’t even ask if I could–” You don’t finish your thought when you see frustration flash in Joel’s eyes. You know it’s not directed at you, but it still makes you feel nervous for some reason. You drop your eyes from his.

“Hey,” he bids quietly, tipping your chin to look at him. His eyes are notably gentler than moments before. “You? You don’t hafta ask for a thing. I already told you, whatever you want from me is yours. You don’t need my permission to feel good.”

“It’s okay?” you ask in a hushed tone.

“Yeah, baby, of course. It’s alright. I want you to feel good. That’s all I care about. And seein’ you enjoy yourself, well, I like it. I get somethin’ outta it, too,” he reassures you. He pauses for a moment. “Do you like it?”

“I think so,” you whisper. The heat in your cheeks is no doubt giving away just how far out your element you are.

“Then you go ahead. Go ahead and touch yourself, honey. We can just keep on like we were,” he encourages.

“You’re not mad? It’s okay?” you ask again.

“I want you to feel good. If you feel good, then I’m happy.”

You sit with his encouragement for a moment. You still want him to take part in it somehow.

“Do you.. Can you watch me do it?” you ask.

“You want me to watch you touch yourself?” he clarifies, sounding like it’s suddenly more difficult to speak.

“Yes. Please,” you exhale.

“Anythin’ you want, honey,” he chuckles breathily.

He presses a chaste kiss against your cheek and sits upright. You follow and sit up beside him. He motions for you to climb onto his lap, and he turns you to face outward when you clamber eagerly to settle yourself

against his thighs. He eases your back flush to his chest with your legs bent on either side of his. He massages the heels of your feet where they rest next to his hips. It’s a small point of contact to let you know he’s still there but holding off on anything further until you’re comfortable in this new position.

You loll your temple against his chin as you sink down into him. His entire body is like a furnace, burning like the want and need he sets aflame in your belly. You moan contentedly at the feel of your full body weight pressing against him. He scoots himself down a few inches so his back is slouched against the couch rather than being completely upright.

“Show me where you want my hands while you’re touchin’ yourself, pretty girl,” he says as he ghosts kisses against your neck.

You grab his hands from where he’s working small, kneading presses against the muscles in your lower calves. His hands dwarf yours, and puppeting them is almost difficult as Joel doesn’t take any measure to control his own movements beyond what you’re conducting them to do. You slowly drag his hands up your legs, just like you’d done the day you’d had to show him you weren’t afraid of his touch, grazing his hot palm up your left leg until it covered the ugly marking on your hip before he fixed it. You’d wanted so badly to repeat the feeling of his hand on your leg ever since that day.

“Talk to me. Wanna hear what’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, honey.”

“I’m - I was thinking about how–” your breath hitches when the heat of his palms grazes the hem of your dress. Joel’s hand clench instinctively, but you grab them tight and keep lifting the fabric higher “–how your hands felt on me. When you gave me my flower. And I kept thinking about it. Every day since then, Joel. How good it made me feel.”

Joel’s gulp is audible beside your head. “Yeah?” he asks, sounding out of breath.

You bob your head quickly up and down, trying to multitask conversation and not letting yourself get too distracted by how good he feels on you and beneath you. Your dress is caught under the weight of your body. Joel taps your thighs, signaling you to lift your hips, and you do so as he rucks your hem up past your hip bones. He grips the fabric and holds it up against your lower belly.

“S’this okay?” he asks. His head is turned toward you where he’s kissing softly into your hair. You lower your hips and moan at the way you can feel the outline of his cock more closely with a layer of fabric out of the way. Joel grunts in reply, seemingly on the same wavelength as you.

“Is this okay, sweetheart? Gotta tell me,” he prods.

“Yes.” Your voice is a high pitched whine. You can feel how wet you are with nothing but the cool air of the room meeting the damp between your legs.

“Tell me what you need me to do. Where do you want me?” he implores.

“When I’m… down there, can you–can you touch my breasts?” you whisper. It almost sounds like you’re telling a hushed secret when you ask.

“You want me here, honey?” he goads as his hands graze underneath your dress and up to your chest. Your breath catches in your throat when he reaches the lower half of your breasts. Your back arches off his chest when he slides past your hardened nipples.

“Please do that again, please,” you beg. You slam your body back against his, wanting to be connected again as quickly as possible.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” he teases. His thumbs caress your nipples as though he’s delicately and expertly playing an instrument. The areas where his fingertips are calloused give more friction to his passes against your pebbled nubs. “So sensitive for me, honey.”

You don’t realize you’re grinding down into him and his fully hard erection until he clears his throat and readjusts in his seat. “If I didn’t know any better, darlin’, I’d think you were tryna make me come in my pants again,” he laughs in a breathy huff.

You snap out of your dazed bliss at his words and turn your head to look at him. Is that what he wanted? Was he saying you should pleasure him? Is that what he wanted? Were you supposed to stop what you were doing and shift the focus to him now? You’d do it if that’s what he wanted. You needed him to want you. You’d do anything to keep him wanting you and your body.

“I can make you feel good. I know I can,” you promise hastily.

Joel just shakes his head. “Nuh uh. I have no doubt you could make me feel amazin’, but that’s not what we’re doin’ today,” he asserts.

“It’s not?” you ask quietly. He gives a short nuh uh sound. “So.. what then?”

 “Jus’ wanna watch you rub that pretty little clit until you come in my lap, babygirl,” he murmurs softly into your ear before nibbling on your earlobe.

You don’t hold back the broken, needy moan that slithers from the back of your mouth.

“Show me what you like, honey. Go on, baby. Go real slow. Wanna see everything,” he coaxes.

Your hand smooths across your body slowly. You want to make sure Joel can see whatever it is that he wants to see from you. You keep glancing his direction, and he realizes you’re watching for his reaction.

“Close your eyes,” he instructs softly. You comply immediately. “I want you to keep your eyes shut just for a minute, okay? Want you to focus on your body. Tell me how it feels with your hands on yourself while I watch.”

With your vision obstructed, you are more aware of your other senses. Joel’s breathing picking up and working to stay controlled. The quick rise and fall of his chest beneath you. His hands cupping your breasts while the pads of his thumbs toy with your nipples. The fabric of your dress scrunched up your belly, held in place by Joel’s wrists and forearms. You can still taste him on your tongue, hints of sugar and tea leaves. The smell of him so close to you: a pine, salt, and earth aroma.

But you feel nervous. Relying on all of these because you can’t see him. How would you know if he was enjoying himself? You don’t think you can enjoy yourself if you don’t know that he’s being taken care of first and foremost.

“I don’t know if I can come,” you blurt out with your eyes shut tight.

“Don’t hafta,” he says lazily against the column of your throat where his lips languidly brush against your skin. “Just focus on makin’ yourself feel good. We can spend as long as you want doin’ that. Don’t hafta get all the way to comin’, baby.”

You ease somewhat at his words. It didn’t seem like he was expecting some sort of result or performance. Maybe he really did just want you to show him what felt good to your body?

When you don’t say anything for a few moments, Joel pauses. “You wanna stop, sweetheart? We can stop right now if you want to,” he insists.

“No!” you clip out quickly, your eyes flying open in panic. “No, I don’t wanna stop. I wanna keep going. Please, Joel?”

“As long as you’re sure,” he agrees in a firm tone.

You bring your arms across yourself, pressing against Joel’s where they rest against your chest. You snuggle into the crook of his neck and press a kiss against his pulse point. “I’m sure. I know. I want you.”

You feel a surge of confidence. “I want you.. right here….” You reach under your dress and guide one of his hands down your body. Your breathing is rapid and borderline wheezy. You aren’t afraid, so why does your breathing sound so panicked?

“Alright, let’s slow it down, baby,” Joel warns softly, bringing the descent of your hands to a stop. You whine in protest.

“But, I’m fine. I swear. I just,” you pant. “I-I just– just want….” Your thought goes unfinished. Your lips feel a bit tingly. You lick them, and they’re so dry the wet of your tongue sticks to them for a moment like you’d pressed it against a metal flagpole in the middle of winter.

“Squeeze my hand. Breathe,” Joel instructs.

You squeeze his hand in a slow rhythm and match your breaths to it.

“There ya go. You’re alright. You just settle for a minute, honey.”

You’re not really sure what just happened. Whatever that was just crept up out of nowhere. Joel seemed to know what it was, though. That made you feel safer. He would take care of it, no matter what it had been or what it was.

“I think let’s just have my hand close by, okay? No touching from me right there. Not today, alright?” he offers.

You wanted him to touch you where your body was demanding it, but you agreed. Your breathing now quieted, you help Joel splay his fingers against the crease of your thigh, just to the side of your throbbing wet entrance. You hum a throaty groan at the feeling of him so close to where you want him most.

“I-If you won’t touch me there yet, maybe you could.. I dunno, say stuff? It makes me stay out of my own head, I think.”

Joel warmed to your request immediately. “Oh? You like that? Like me talkin’ to ya when you’re touchin’ yourself?”

“MMmhhhhmmmmm.”

His hand on your chest slowly rubs circles against your skin. It feels warm, soothing, and grounding. After a few moments, it feels inciting of your uncontrollable want for him.

“You think about me sayin’ dirty things to ya? Think about my hands on you when you’re alone in your bed at night?” he taunts in a low, sultry voice.

“I-I don’t actually.. do that. Touch myself down there, I mean,” you admit quietly. You hope he doesn’t ask why. That last thing you want to get into right now is the longstanding disconnect of your body and your mind that’s only recently been mended.

“Why’s that?” he asks, sounding more focused now.

Dammit.

“Just.. didn’t feel connected to my body, I guess. Sort of felt like I wasn’t inside of it. Like I couldn’t feel it, even if it was my own hands,” you offer up weakly.

Joel sits with your words for a moment before speaking again. “But that’s different now?”

“Yeah. Since.. since being with you,” you explain. You look at him from the corner of your eye. He looks pensive and maybe even moved by your disclosure.

“Is this like the reflection thing you told me about? Seein’ yourself when you look in a mirror?” he wonders.

Tears threaten to well up on your lash line at Joel’s mindful perceptions of your work to find yourself again and take care of that person until she is made whole again. You suppress your fledgling, overwrought sentimentality.

“Yeah. I think they have a lot to do with each other, those two things,” you concur.

Joel takes his time planting leisurely presses of his lips against your hair and cheek. You recognize he’s absorbing and sorting the things you just shared with him.

“So how’s it like for you now?”

“You mean, how my body feels when it’s touched?” you posit.

Joel nods and makes a noise of assent. You look forward and lean your head against his as you try to express yourself adequately.

“It’s like… like a pressure. Down there. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s– I dunno. I get nervous to touch near it. Nervous it’ll be too much. Feel too overwhelming or something. I dunno.”

Joel mulls over your words again. “Does it feel overwhelmin’ right now?”

“No. Not in that way. Just in a different way, I guess. Like it… like I need to touch there. Like it’s waiting to be touched by something,” you explain as best you can.

Joel makes a contemplative sound and rubs gently on the side of your torso.

“So let's give that pretty pussy the attention she deserves, hm?”

You inhale sharply at his intoxicating invitation and turn to see a coy grin drawing you in. You bite your bottom lip in a smile and nod enthusiastically.

Joel nudges your hand resting over his, persuading  you to touch yourself between the folds of your sex. You hover above your mound. Joel’s fingers move to scissor your lips open, holding you wide for yourself to explore. He’s not even directly touching your private parts, but it feels so intimate and arousing.

“You’re gonna take real good care of her until I can, right, baby?”  he goads.

“Yes,” you whimper.

“That’s right, honey. You’re gonna make sure you’re touchin’ her real good. Makin’ yourself feel real good, okay?”

You gently rest your fingers against the sensitive nub at the top of your lips. You jolt at the feeling of finally making direct contact.

“Ssshhh. Sshhhh, it’s alright. Take it slow, honey,” Joel reminds you.

You drag your fingers in small shapes, settling on a back and forth motion. You whimper at the intensity of satisfaction you’re bringing yourself. You toss your head back against Joel’s shoulder and squirm with pleasure. You quicken the pace of your swiping motions against your sensitive clit.

“God, can’t believe I get to see you like this. So fuckin’ beautiful,” Joel praises.

The room fills with the sounds of your strangled moans and your wrist flicking back and forth faster and faster.

“Gonna give her as much as she wants, hm? As much as she can take, isn’t that right?”

He noses along your neck and ear. “Tell me how she feels, baby,” he whispers.

“It–ohmygod– it’s, it feels so good, Joel,” you whine.

“You takin’ good care of that pretty pussy?” he murmurs in a low, gruff voice. 

He rolls one of your nipples gently between two fingers. You nod frantically, your words getting caught in your throat. Joel wants to hear you say it, though. He gives a small squeeze to your side and gives a hush of “go on, say it” against your ear.

“I-I’m taking care of my pretty pussy,” you cry out.

Joel grunts in approval and toys with your breasts and nipples with faster, harder movements.

“Fuck, that’s it. Doin’ so good, too. Wish you could see how fuckin’ good you look right now, baby,” he coos.

“I-I– Mmgod. It’s building up. Down there,” you explain frantically. 

“I’ve got you. Let yourself feel all of it. You’re safe. Just focus on how it feels,” he urges.

You rub frenzied circles on your sensitive nub as your lower belly starts to feel tighter and tighter. Without thinking, you listen to your body’s command to have something inside you. You take your other hand where it had been holding onto Joel and insert two fingers up to the knuckle into your needy, drenched hole. There’s no resistance as they slide right in, and your hips jerk and roll with the added sensation. You’re riding your own fingers on top of Joel’s lap as you furiously rub your clit.

“Joel!” you wail in a rabid pitch when the sensation has almost pushed you to the point of what you think you can stand.

“S’okay. Let it happen, baby. I’m right here.”

“Mmmm it’s gonna– oh my god,” you let out in a hoarse, broken cry. You buck away from Joel’s chest as the crescendo of pleasure compels your entire body to lift upward.“OH MY GOD, it’s right there, Joel. I feel it. It’s right there. It’s–ohmygod. Baby! Baby, please. Oh fuck!”

Your vision goes flat for a moment as an explosive sensation erupts through the lower half of your body. You’re shaking and writhing on top of Joel, whose strong arms are holding you against his chest and keeping you from flinging yourself off the couch from the intensity of your orgasm. Tears stream from the corners of your eyes. It’s so much, but it all feels so amazing.

You’re chanting Joel’s name as if you’re searching for him. He wraps his arms around you tighter and pulls you snug against him. You vaguely hear his lauding - did such a good job, such a good girl, look so beautiful - as you struggle to align yourself with the present. You feel as though you’ve sprinted through an entire marathon. Your jaw is slack. Your eyes loll to the back of your head until the irises disappear under your lids. You’re trembling underneath Joel’s hold and whimpering in surrender to the sensations gripping your body. You grab hold of his forearms like they’re a swim buoy keeping you afloat.

The tide of your climax pulls at you until it finally recedes back into an ocean of calm. You’re awash in a floaty sort of feeling. You can sense every part of your body and how it sings with relief and satiety. You can feel yourself settling into a quiet sleep. You feel Joel freeing himself from underneath you and positioning you to lie down again on the couch. Something soft and heavy covers your body.

Your mind is quiet while your body sings. You drift in and out of awareness, your eyes lifting every now and then at a sound or shuffling nearby. Something dips into the couch beside you. Something that sounds musical reaches your ears.

“Figure I can’t sound half bad when you’re just about knocked out,” Joel laughs, mostly to himself. 

Some light strumming. Some harmonious chords.

“Been playin’ this one a lot. Reminds me’uh you,” he says softly.

A pleasant, melodic cadence fills the air. It’s gentle. A plucking lullaby sort of sound. You sigh at the way it feels like there’s another warm blanket over top of you just from listening to it. You drift off quickly to the song Joel plays for you.

Guys, I will try very hard to release ch10 next week, but these bits of the story are harder for me to get through on like a personal level or whatever. So if it is ready next week I'll post it. If not, I'll update y'all on the progress and a new tentative release day. Tysm for reading!

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

[conniesanchor]

navigation | series masterlist | previous part | wc; 632

002: you come around, and the armor falls.

a/n; this took longer than i expected, but here we are! part two of this series. i really hope you all enjoy this one. likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

it had been two weeks since your fight with spiderman. two weeks. you hadn't ever gone that long without seeing him since you met him. throughout those two weeks, you began to worry about him. when you met the masked man, he seemed to calm you down. your normal anxiety ticks weren't as bad, your university grades were improving, and somehow, someone you didn't even know, had such an impact on your life.

having grown out of your usual sort of habit, when you heard tapping on your window, you were startled. after groggily rising from your warm bed, you shuffle across the room to the window, pulling back the curtains and unlocking the latch to let in the crisp air. as you peer through the open window, you spot spiderman there, his face obscured by his protective mask, yet his presence palpable as he patiently awaits permission to enter, his silent gesture speaking volumes of your shared understanding that the tension from your previous fight was still there.

despite harboring some frustration with him, you relent and grant him entry, realizing that your friendship transcends momentary disagreements, and his presence outweighs any temporary grievances. "what're you doing here?" you ask, crossing your arms and raising your eyebrows.

he moves his hands to his mask and pulls it over his head—your jaw drops. "i'm really sorry about snapping at you. i know you can handle yourself, and i shouldn't have doubted that." he apologizes, and when he sees your confused face, he continues, "my name is peter parker, and i would really like you to let me take you out on a date."

you don't respond, just step forward and fling your arms around his neck, "thank you," you say, your hands playing with the locks of hair at his neck.

peter chuckles, "for what?"

"trusting me."

as you embrace peter, you feel a sense of relief wash over you. the tension that had been building between you since your disagreement dissipates in the warmth of the moment. you pull back slightly, looking into his masked eyes with a soft smile.

"i appreciate your apology, peter," you say, your voice sincere. "and i accept it. i understand why you reacted the way you did, but i'm glad we can move past it."

peter returns your smile, his eyes crinkling. "i'm glad too. i hate knowing that i upset you."

you shake your head, stepping back to give him some space. "it's okay, really. we're both still figuring this out."

he nods, his expression turning more serious. "yeah, we are. but I know one thing for sure—i want to get to know you better."

a warmth spreads through your chest at his words. despite the chaos of his double life as spiderman and your own everyday struggles, he still wants to make time for you. it's both exhilarating and reassuring.

"i'd like that," you reply softly, feeling a flutter of excitement in your stomach. "i'd like that a lot."

peter's smile brightens, and he takes a step closer, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. "great. how about we start with that date? just you, me, and no crime-fighting distractions."

you chuckle, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders at the prospect of spending time together without the looming threat of danger. "that sounds perfect."

"good," peter says, his voice warm and genuine. "i'll make sure it's something special."

as you stand there, gazing into peter's eyes, you feel a sense of anticipation building within you. despite the uncertainties that lie ahead, you know that whatever comes your way, you'll face it together. with a newfound sense of determination and hope, you take peter's hand, ready to embark on this new chapter of your relationship.

[filmtv2022]

In the Bleak Midwinter: Chapter 3

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Series Masterlist

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Grief and addiction push Y/N further away from reality. Relying on a nasty mix of alcohol and opium, Y/N leans into a dangerous way to cope with the hurt while clinging to the past. Seeing her slip, Tommy finds himself pushed to get closer than he'd like in an attempt to protect her from herself.

Warning: drug & alcohol abuse + mentions of suicide + language

Timeframe & Canon Info: This story is taking place in what would be part of season five of Peaky Blinders. With that being said, we are not fully sticking to canon here. For the purpose of this story, Lizzie is not married to Tommy and does not play a significant role in his life. He has not remarried since Grace's death. Additionally, the only child Thomas has is Charlie.

A/N: Okay, so it was really fun exploring the softer side of Tommy Shelby in this chapter. I look forward to doing more of that throughout this story. I hope you all are enjoying this story so far, and I'm beyond grateful to those who are reading. As always, please forgive me for any and all mistakes.

** If you would like to be tagged in future updates, please comment and let me know.

The sun sat low in the sky as Tommy made his way to 725 Watery Lane. This had become his norm over the past few days. Each evening, he’d make his way to you, relieving the men he’d posted outside your door to keep his own watch through the night. Every attempt made by himself and others to see you, to speak with you, had gone unanswered. But he was undeterred, this drive to keep you safe went far beyond some wartime promise he’d made to William Butler. It stirred something deep in his soul, and that terrified him.

But there, despite that fear, he would sit, perched on a rickety wooden chair, clinging to every small sound of life that spilled out into the hall. Only in the dead of night, as exhaustion consumed him would the need for rest pull him under. This night was no different from the rest. Having replaced Johnny Dogs for the midnight shift, he settled in for the long haul.

…

The constant presence of the Peaky Boys went almost entirely unnoticed as the days blurred one into the next. The movement of time was marked only by the changing of light outside the window. Occasional voices could be heard in the hall, but they were garbled in your mind as you coped with the pain in the one way you knew how. Delirium dragged you away leaving the world blurry and out of focus.

With a weak hand, you blindly reached for whatever you could find perched on the nightstand. The whiskey and Laudanum you’d brought was always there in its place when you needed it, but that was about to change. Pulling the cork, you touched the rim to your lips and tipped it back, but nothing came. It was empty. Panic began to rise creating a flush of heat over your skin. Swinging your legs off the side of the bed, you rested in that position for a moment before trying to stand, but there was no strength left in your limbs. Taking a couple of staggering steps, your body crumpled into a heap on the floor. The thump of your frame hitting the wooden boards shook your bones, knocking the wind from your lungs. Rolling onto your back, you stared blankly up at the ceiling. Silent tears flooded down your cheeks as you welcomed the blackness that clouded your vision.

…

Woken suddenly from a dead sleep, Tommy struggled to bring his surroundings into focus. An eerie quiet had settled in the air and it was that hollow void that sent anxiety ripping down his spine. Pushing up from the chair, he swiftly pulled the key from his pocket. The low snick of the lock coming unlatched was drowned out by the heavy pull of his breaths.

Throwing it open, his eyes immediately fell on your slumped figure. Obscenities laced with your names, flowed in rapid succession as quick strides brought him to your side, where he dropped to his knees. His fingers reached for your neck to feel for a pulse. The clock seemed to stop as he waited for any sign of life beneath your tender flesh. After what felt like an eternity, a featherlight thrum beat against his fingertips marking that he hadn’t failed to keep you here, to keep you safe.

Letting go of the air in his lungs, Tommy adjusted his position so that he was leaning on the side of the bed with you in between his strong thighs, your back to his chest. Sweat collected in the delicate cotton of your pajamas, the collar stained dark from the perspiration. With one arm wrapped around your waist, he used the other to brush away the hair stuck to your neck, he watched the rise and fall of your chest. The rhythm was slow giving him something to focus on as he calmed himself. The smell of stale whiskey and sweat mixed with the faint remnants of your sweet perfume.

Resting his head back on the mattress, Tommy’s eyes drifted shut leaving him to concentrate on the feeling of you. Your muscles twitched in small jerks as the dreams returned. Mumbled whispers tumbled from your lips calling out to people who no longer walked this earth. One name, in particular, came to the surface over and over.

“William…” Even in your sleep, fresh tears spilled as the image of your husband alive and well remained to haunt you.

…

The early hours of the morning gave way to a new day. The gray hues of first light forced Tommy to move. Arthur would be by soon to relieve him of his watch, and the last thing he needed was for his brother to see you like this, exposed and broken on the floor.

Using his strength, Thomas scooped you into his arm. You stirred only slightly as he placed you on the bed, and covered you with a rough woolen blanket. Tracing over your features, he watched you for a moment before sweeping his fingertips along the rise of your cheek. An ache, deep and genuine, gripped his heart as he looked at you.

Heavy boot steps echoing down the hall broke the trance. Grabbing the bottle and flask from your nightstand, he forced himself to leave your side, but he didn’t get far. Arthur pressed into the room before his brother had a chance to make his exit.

“Oi, everythin’ all right?” the gravel in Arthur’s voice was heavier than usual, its severity matched the swath of blue under his eyes. Something that Tommy didn’t fail to notice.

“When she wakes up she going to be fuckin’ irate that I’ve taken her whiskey and her drugs. But under no circumstances are you to find her any, and if she tries to leave you stop her, understand?”

“But you’ve been giving-”

“I know, I was, but it's gone too far. I’ll be by later to collect her.”

“Collect? As in-”

“As in she’ll be comin’ to stay with me at Arrow House.”

“Right, so, I know you’re the boss here, Tommy, but is this really a good idea? With everythin’ goin’ on with Michael and Billy Boys?”

“I don’t care if it’s a fuckin’ good idea or not. I said she’s comin’ so she is, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear brother.”

…

Gruff voices at the end of your bed became clearer as the fog of unconsciousness lifted. The pounding of your head left you feeling off-kilter, your stomach rolled viciously forcing you to swallow the bile that rose in the back of your throat. Gingerly, you tried to sit up, but even this small amount of physical exertion drained you of everything you’d recouped during your rest. On instinct, you reached for the nightstand but found nothing. A weak groan fell from your lips, the sound pitiful and desperate. The figures standing nearby dropped their conversation as they saw your movement in their periphery. Arthur stood for a moment like a statue, his eyes focused on Tommy as he came to sit next to you, and gently dabbed away the sweat from your forehead. Mumbling something under his breath about giving the two of you a minute, the eldest Shelby left the room, shutting the door behind himself.

“Where is it? What the fuck did you do with it?” frustration bit at the words as you grappled with the dizziness that impeded your ability to focus.

“It’s gone.”

“Gone, what do you… what… no. No.” reaching for his wrist, you dug your fingernails into his skin as the anxiety came barreling in, “You can’t… I-I need-”

“You don’t fuckin’ need it, Y/N.”

“But I do. I need it to… I need to see…” closing your eyes, you turned your face away, your cheek pressed into the pillow. The back of your throat tightened with the strain of emotion.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” Tommy’s broad palm cupped your face, turning it gently to face him, “Open your eyes, and look at me.” He waited, thumb brushing over your skin.

“You see him, right? When you take it?” he paused just long enough to see the look of recognition, “I know you do, but he isn’t here.”

“He is, he has to be. I can feel him, his hands on me. I can hear them laughing too, in the other room.”

“Y/N, it isn’t real. I know it feels like is, but I promise you it isn’t. The truth is that no matter how much you take nothin’ is bringing them back. It’s dangerous to keep going like this.”

“I don’t care, I have to see them.”

“It’ll kill you, Y/N.”

“Would that be so bad? I’m tired Thomas, so fuckin’ tired.”

“You deserve a life, to be happy again. If not for yourself, for them, for their memory. Let me help you. You delivered the letter as he asked, now let me keep the promise I made… just like you kept yours.”

It was unfathomable that his man who you’d only met a few days ago would be willing to go to this length from someone as unworthy as yourself, but it was the desperation in his eyes that moved your soul.

“Okay. I’ll try… for them.”

With a sharp nod, Tommy removed his hands from your body, and an emptiness settled in your heart at the loss of his touch.

“I need you to get dressed, and pack your things.”

“Why? Where am I going?”

“Home, with me.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine right here, I promise. Besides, I’m sure your wife won’t want a random woman flitting around the house.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve already made up my mind. Now,” standing from the bed he lit himself a cigarette, “get yourself together. I’ll be downstairs with the car. My brother Arthur’s out in the hall. He’ll take your bag when you’re ready.”

…

Collecting your things and getting dressed took longer than usual. The past few days of overconsumption proved to have taken quite a toll on your body, but eventually, you were ready.

With suitcase in hand, you took a deep breath before turning the handle. The metal was cool in your palm as you yanked it open. Hearing the noise, Arthur turned around to face you.

“All set, Mrs. Butler?”

“I am, and you must be Arthur.”

“That’s right.”

“It’s nice to meet you, and please call me Y/N.”

“All right, Y/N. Let’s get goin’ then." He reached for your bag, which you willingly gave.

A clear sky hung above the tops of the buildings with only the smoke from the factories to taint the clarity. Arthur threw your bag in the back of a stunning motorcar parked out front before ushering you inside. Hopping into the passenger seat himself, Tommy was already behind the wheel. No more conversation was to be had as the three of you pulled away from Watery Lane.

Eventually, the bustle of the city gave way to rolling countryside. The air was infinitely cleaner and more palatable than what you’d been used to inhaling both in Birmingham and London. In the distance, a massive mansion came into view. Its scale and grandeur were apparent even from a mile off. The beauty only grew the closer you got.

Parking as near to the front stoop as he could, Tommy was out of the car and to your door before you even had the chance to think. Holding it open for you, he offered you a steadying hand while the other fell to the small of your back for extra support. A wave of warmth flooded across your body at his touch. Satisfied that you were not going to fall, he collected your suitcase and returned to your side, calling to his brother as he ushered you indoors.

“Dinner’s at 7:00, Arthur.”

“Got it, Tommy.” Shifting to the driver’s side, he started the engine and took off back down the drive leaving the two of you alone.

Meeting Thomas’ eyes, a wistful smile turned up the corner of your lips as you scanned over his features, “This doesn’t make any sense, I don’t even know you. Why are you doing this?”

Halting his steps, Tommy turned to face you, his strong hand still resting on the small of your back, the hypnotic blue of his eyes locked with your unyielding gaze “Because…” clearing his throat, “No one deserves to go through this alone.” He continued to speak as he led you into the massive home, “Now, let’s get you settled.”

...

Taglist:

@sadroses98

[call-sign-shark]

Pop Goes the Rat || Modern Arthur Shelby x Reader

Summary:  When Arthur Shelby was discharged from the Special Air Service Forces due to his PTSD symptoms, his whole life fell apart. As his mental health declined, his wife divorced, and he became a drug addict. But recently Arthur is more than committed to getting his shit together. He even goes to drug anonymous meetings. If he manages to stay clean and get better, he will be reintegrated into his unit. And if he is, maybe Linda will come back.

That being said, you had never been part of the plan. And yet you're here, ready to wreck his life and rob his heart. Who are you? Where do you come from? How did you end up in the streets? No one knows. What they know though is that you call yourself "Rat".

Words: 2.5k

TW: Mention of drug use, otherwise it's kind of cute and funny. The vibes are grumpy veteran x unhinged punk girl.

Notes:

♠ Even though I tried to keep "Rat" as Y/N as possible, there are two physical traits described: she has blue and long hair.

♠ This is not supposed to be a series but I had to exorcize this idea. If some people are interested in the concept I might write a few blurbs or one-shots for Rat and Arthur!

MASTERLIST

“I see a new face here! Welcome dear. I am proud you joined us in today’s session. What’s your name?”

“Arthur.” He mumbled, feeling awkward.

“Hi Arthur.” The whole participants replied in unison.

Arthur nodded to greet them but remained silent during the whole meeting. At first he was convinced that going to these anonymous groups was nothing else than bullshit, but as people shared their experiences and struggles he had started to feel better. To the point a faint smile flattered his lips. When the chairman clapped in his hands to signal the end of the discussion, Arthur got up from his chair and grabbed the leash of the huge malinois that was sleeping at his combat boots. Hannibal was his military dog, a fierce animal who had accompanied him throughout his most dangerous missions. Most of the time, he was also his only friend. The dog woke up and stretched his body, yawning. Even though the meeting had been a positive experience Arthur did not feel to talk with the other addicts. All he wanted now was to go home, take a hot shower and try to sleep. He left the place to go grab his jacket in the cloakroom. That was when he first saw you, your hand in the pocket of his utility jacket, seeking for his wallet.

“Oi! The fook are ye doing?!”

You jumped, heart missing at least two beats. To be true, you did not know what scared you the most: the man’s hoarse voice or the dog barking at you? But despite getting caught, your survival instincts kicked in and you exited the house through the window with a surprising agility. Arthur did not really bother running after you, for you had left his wallet. Moreover, he did not want Hannibal to tear you apart.

“Bloody hell.” He said out lout, barely processing what he had just seen. Was the young woman and her long blue hair really there or had he imagine her?

The second time you met, Arthur had just got out from the 24/24 shop nearby and was smoking a cigarette in the parking lot. Whenever he could not sleep, the soldier opted for a night walk and a snack or a cigarette rather than staying at home with his crippling anxiety. Usually he would take Hannibal with him but tonight he wanted to be alone, for he felt at the verge of relapsing into his bad habits: he was torn apart between the need to buy cocaine and his will of staying clean.

“I can’t. Fuck, I can’t do that.” He whispered to himself as his throat tightened at the sole thought of snorting some snow. The need was too overwhelming to resist — just one line, it could not be that bad right? Just one line, he told himself. It was at the moment he had made up his mind about whether or not to get high that he saw a familiar face.

A young woman with blue hair rushed out of the shop, a few stolen goods pressed against her chest. Her two long braids were floating behind her as she ran past him like some kind of feral pixie. Arthur frowned as he recognized that naughty little thief from the drug addicts meeting. Maybe that was why he grabbed her by the arm and forced her to stop.

“What the —“ You exclaimed, almost stumbling because of the sudden stop. You flickered on your legs a little bit and turned around in one vivid movement, your heart racing as you realized a man was keeping you from escaping.

“Nice to see you again, thief girl.” Arthur said, one brow raised.

You blinked several times, not recognizing him at first, but when you did your eyes widened even more, “The fuck is wrong with you dude?! Leave me alone!”

“What did you steal this time, eh?!” He replied. As he did his lips stretched in a carnivorous smile that showcased his pointy fangs.

“It’s none of your business, fucker! Let me go! Lemme go or I’ll scream!”

“You must be kidding m—“ Arthur could not finish his sentence for the shop holder hailed him. Truth be told, the man was fuming.

“Here you are stupid bitch!” He roared, one thick vein pumping on his forehead, “Thank you for catching her!” He said to him before shifting his attention back to you, “who’s laughing now? I’m going to call the fucking cops!”

“No, no, please, no.” You started to plead all the while pulling your arm in a desperate attempt to free yourself from the soldier’s grip but his strength outmatched yours. From then, everything happened really fast: first Arthur looked at your face and realized how young you were. Judging by your physical traits, you were in your start/mid twenties. The second detail he noticed was the pathetic content of your loot. Indeed, what you had stolen was literally a pack of menstrual tampons, a sandwich, a bag of chips and a bottle of water. Arthur clenched his jaws and his heart ached a little bit. Despite his violent outbursts he was far from being devoid of empathy. Somehow, it was quite the contrary.

“Listen lad, she’s me girlfriend. We had an argument and she’s a bit drunk. I’m sorry for any inconvenience. I’ll pay for what she took. “ Words left Arthur’s mouth before he could even fully understand what he just said.

The shop owner looked at him with surprise, his thick brows furrowed in confusion, “That crazy chick is your girl?” He asked, his eyes shifting from him to you several times in a row. When he finally looked at you longer, you awkwardly offered him your biggest toothy smile, “Erm yeah okay. It’s fifteen bucks, man. But next time I see her in my shop I’ll call the police. Got it?”

“Hm.” Arthur replied with a grunt and, with his free hand, he took fifteen pounds from his pocket and then handed them to the man. The latter took the bills and left without further ado, leaving the two of you all alone in the parking lot. Arthur, who was still firmly holding your arm, lost himself in his thoughts a few long seconds. That was your annoying voice that snapped him out of his bubble.

“Your girlfriend?” You exclaimed, outraged. With one quick movement you managed to break free from his grip. Wincing, you massaged your sore skin, “I’d rather kill myself”

“C’mon, I’ve saved your ass. The least ye could do is show some respect. Kids these days…” Arthur growled, his piercing blue eyes staring at you.

You replied by poking your tongue out — which properly astounded him. What a fucking brat, he thought, “you want me to thank you and repay you the favor? Spoiler at fucking eleven, I’ve got nothing to offer. And if you suggest me to suck your dick I’ll punch your bollocks off.”

Arthur opened his eyes wide, his sharp face adorned with an almost cartoon-like shock. God, you had a fierce spirit for such a small creature. Yet he had been in combat zones all over the world and met a wide sample group of people, “Bloody hell. Calm down, midget. Yer a kind of psychotic Smurfette or what? I wasn’t going to ask you these kind of things.”

“Oh? Erm. Really? Yeah, whatever,” Once the fury faded away from your pretty juvenile face, all was left was an indescribable adorable pout. Your eyes fled his.

“I’m serious. I wasn’t going to say that. No need to repay it. It’s only fifteen bucks.” A tint of amusement appeared in his blue irises as he observed your facial expression, similar to a kitten caught in the middle of doing something stupid. He slightly tilted his head to the side, observing your more in details. You were irresistibly cute for a little criminal, “the name’s Arthur Shelby by the way, eh.”

“Well, thank you Arthur Shelby.” You finally said a bit reluctantly before walking away. You had barely made a few steps when Arthur’s voice echoed behind you.

“Oi! Wait a minute!”

You did not. Quite the contrary, you ran away before the soldier’s steel blue eyes, who looked at your slim silhouette disappearing in the shadow of the night. All that remained from you was the soft sensation of your skin against his that was still tingling on his fingertips.

What you loved the most about spring was the fact you could sleep outside without freezing. Curled up on a bench lost in the midst of a parc, you tried to rest but Morpheus refused to bring you to his Kingdom. A little growl escaped from your lips as you wiggled, trying to find a comfortable position. But the wood was hard, and your backpack was an awful pillow substitute.

“Doesn’t seem comfy, eh.”

The gruff voice that just talked caused you to sit on the bench in one vivid movement, all your senses on alert just in case you needed to run away from a potential threat. Living in the streets was harsh enough for those who suffered from this life —but when you were a woman, the struggle became even worse. However, your muscles relaxed slightly when you saw Arthur’s face.

“You’re stalking me or what?”

“Fook off, kiddo,” He rolled his eyes, annoyed, then he made a quick head gesture toward his legs. When you looked down, you saw the gargantuan malinois sitting at his feet. Even though the brute did not move, his dark beady eyes were carefully observing you, “I always walk my dog here during the night.”

“That? A dog? Looks like a fur rocket. It barked at me.”

“Ye were trying to rob my wallet, eh.” He refreshed your mind.

“Whatever,” You sniffed and crossed your arms.

Silence fell above you. The only noise that could be heard was the light murmur of the leaves moving at the wind’s discretion. Arthur’s charming blue eyes looked at you a few long seconds as he thought about his next words. Contrary to Tommy, his little brother, he had never been skilled with them. He was too easily flustered and always ended up looking more stupid than anything else.

“I don’t even know your name. That’s what I wanted to ask you last week but you ran away.”

You looked at him, surprised.

“Rat.”

“Rat? Bloody hell, girl. Your parents really didn’t love you.”

“Hey! Fuck you!” You retorted, your eyes burning with a blazing annoyance, “ That’s what people call me! Not my real name.”

“Why do they call you rat? That’s… Fookin weird.” Arthur asked, taking a flat silver case out of the pocket of his cargo pants. Then, he slipped one cigarette between his teeth.

“Gimme one?” Your eyes shone at such a sight. You dreamt about a good smoke for days but cigarettes were incredibly hard to steal.

“The magic word?” He teased, the gravel in his voice coated with genuine amusement.

“Fuck off, Arthur.” You retorted.

“That’s a right answer, stinky rat.” As he spoke, the soldier pushed you with a nudge and slumped on the bench next to your frame. Hannibal looked at his master, then lied down between his parted feet. Arthur gave you a cigarette and lit it up when you brought it to your lips. A sigh of relief escaped from you juicy lips as you exhaled a cloud of smoke from your burning lungs. It did not take long for the pleasant effects of nicotine to alleviate your anxiety. Admittedly, it felt good. Glancing at you with utter curiosity, Arthur could not help but give a faint smile at how adorable you looked when fury left your face, “So, why do they call you rat?”

“Because of him,” Following a show-don’t-tell policy, you slowly moved your left shoulder. Arthur raised a brow and truly wondered what you were doing, twitching your shoulder like that. But his interrogations soon found their answer when a tiny pink snout appeared between two blue hair strands. Then followed the little and furry white head of an albino rat.

“What the — how fookin adorable that is,” Arthur’s face enlightened with awe. He expected you to roast him but all you did was blessing him with a genuine smile for you were delighted by his reaction. Usually, people would were quite disgusted when they saw your little friend, “His name’s Plague.”

“Ah!” Arthur’s loud and hoarse laugh rose up to the sky, “what a cool name. I like him.”

Plague wiggled his pinky snout, smelling the fragrances of both the stranger and his dog. When he was over with it, he just disappeared again behind one long and thick blue braid.

“Yeah, he’s a bit shy. “

“Hm.”

Another silence. But contrary to the awkward previous one, it was pleasant. Almost comforting. It felt like the rest of the world had disappeared in a void, and that all was left was you, him, your pets and this bench. A feeling of surprise dawned within as you caught yourself smiling.

“Oi, Rat. I know that sounds weird, and I don’t want ya to think I’m a kind of creep or something but —“ Arthur paused and exhaled loudly through his nostrils. He could not believe je was going to say that… As he did, your eyes observed the dog tags that were hanging from his neck, “If ye need a place to sleep tonight I’ve got a comfy sofa. The only con is that you’ll have to share it with Hannibal.”

The dog barked joyfully, as if it wanted to agree with his owner.

“Why would you do that?” You asked, palpable hesitation filling your words. Your reaction did not surprise Arthur, who was kind of expecting it. He was well aware his invitation sounded a bit strange.

“The night you ran from the shop and I grabbed you I was about to buy cocaine,”

The vivid memory of your first meeting assaulted your mind, “Wait. But I saw you at the anonymous drug addicts meeting.”

“Yeah, I know,” Arthur paused and looked down at his dog. But you did not need to see his blue eyes to understand the shame that had bloomed within him, “I was ready to relapse y’know. Sometimes me head screams so loud the only thing that soothe me is drugs. But me mind got busy taking care of your bullshit. As stupid as it sounds, you kept me from snorting cocaine and ruining all my efforts.”

“That’s not stupid,” You said in a rather friendly tone, “Well… I’ve got nowhere to go and I see threatening clouds in the sky so… Okay” You answered after mentally weighing the pros and cons, “But don’t say I’m your girlfriend ever again,” You teased with the brattiest grin ever, “Deal, old dog?”

“Deal, stinky rat.” He repeated.

You gave him the finger, but truth was he could not get mad at you, for your smirk was so beautiful it made him forget about the stars.

[urfavstargirl1]

don't dream it's over

Part 6 to the series Chemistry, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 , Part 5-- Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

stranger things masterlist | Spotify playlist

summary: thanks to Eddie Munson, Y/N faces the consequences of breaking her parents number one rule: no boys allowed. After a month of no fun, no friends, and no boyfriends, Y/N makes a harrowing realization about just how much she misses the "freak" of Hawkins High

cw: angst, fluff, anxiety, hurt/comfort, shy/nerdy!reader, pre-ST4, cocky!Eddie, swearing, strict parents,

a/n: this chapter was a long time coming so I thank you all so much for waiting patiently. I also meant to end the story at the 6th chapter but my last chapter did mitosis again and this isn't the end (just yet), but for now enjoy this extra long chapter

“Eddie,” Y/N cries out in despair. 

“It’s ok sweetheart. I’m right here.” Eddie replies. 

 He tightens his arm locked around her waist and pulls her body closer to his. He breathes in the scent of her hair. Feels the warmth of her body pressed against his as they lay in his bed.

“I-I need you,” she calls out to him, too afraid to turn over and look him in the eyes.

“It’s ok, I need you too.”

“But I can’t. I-I’ve never needed someone like this before…”

***

When Y/N woke, there was a brief moment of reprieve. 

Her swollen eyes struggled to widen amidst the soft sunlight peeking through her blinds. She breathed deeply, barely on the brink of consciousness to relish the last waking moment she would have before remembering the horrors of the past twelve hours. 

Soon enough, the look on her mom’s face and the tone of her dad’s voice came flooding back to her. The memories loom accompanied by an intense pounding in her head. 

She’s reminded of the tears she had cried throughout the night, but now, there’s only silence. 

Numbness overcomes her, and for the rest of the day, Y/N simply floats by, barely interacting with the world around her. 

At breakfast, lunch, and dinner, she looks down at her plate and only opens her mouth to take a few bites of whatever is in front of her.

In the calm clear morning air, her parents reinstate her month long punishment with the new addition of having her phone privileges taken away too. 

Y/N knows from her sister’s many moments of being grounded that the punishment usually entails promptly coming home from school, with the exception of extracurricular activities, and only leaving the house for family outings. But for the first time, it’s Y/N’s turn to be on house arrest. Forbidden from seeing Eddie and any of her friends.

And if it wasn’t drilled into her head before, the whole, “no fun, no friends, and no boyfriends” thing was permanently embedded in her skull. That and the idea that those are all worthless distractions from the only thing that does matter: doing well in school.

Y/N almost wants to complain. A thread of anger in her shouts that this is all unfair, but a bigger, much louder part of her knows the harsh reality: life isn’t fair. And this is exactly what would happen by doing something as stupid as falling in love in a house that forbids it.

Now, she’ll have to pay the price for her idiotic actions and make sure nothing like this happens again.

Even when she hears a faint tapping on her window later that night, only to discover Eddie climbing up the roof of her house.

Y/N starts hyperventilating and feeling the blood in her veins scream. 

“Eddie, what are you doing,” she whisper yells, from the window cracked slightly ajar.

Eddie, with his tongue slightly poking out of his full lips, lost in focus from trying not to fall and quietly make his way to her window, doesn’t hear her. 

As he climbs Rapunzel’s tower, a small part of Y/N can’t help but feel her heart soar. On this cool autumn night, here Eddie is, climbing the edge of her parents house in his signature leather jacket he fills out so well and chunky ring clad fingers clutching the railing. 

As Eddie nears her windowsill, Y/N stands in front of it like a guard, blocking his attempted entrance.

“Hey sweetheart,” he reaches forward and caresses her cheek with one calloused hand while the other holds him upright, balancing carefully on the rooftop. “You didn’t call. I was starting to get worried.”

“Eddie, you can’t be here right now,” Y/N frantically states before looking over her shoulder. “My parents could hear you. I could get in trouble for this.” “I know,” He sighs, “But I wanted to see you.”

Eddie smiles at her, not in that million dollar gleam way he always does that she loves so much, but in that bashful heart warming way that makes her stomach do a whole gymnastics routine.

Y/N shakes her head and firmly states, “I don’t care. You need to go home Eddie.”

Eddie frowns, partially at her words and also at the sudden realization that her cheeks have been stained with what were presumably tears.

“Eddie, please.” Y/N shoos him away. The pleading sense of urgency is audible in her voice.

Eddie takes a beat, realizing the events are not unfolding like he imagined they would have.

He knew it might take some convincing. Nothing with Y/N has been easy, but he thought throwing rocks at a girl’s window always worked, at least in the movies it does.

But the frazzled look on her face and the shaky look in her eyes right now say otherwise.

“Eddie, please, I’m serious. You need to go home, right now.”

She looks like she could be on the verge of tears and that alone is enough to make Eddie stop. His heart absolutely broke at the sound of her cries over the phone last night. It would practically kill him to be the one bringing tears to her mesmerizing eyes.

“Ok,” he replies reluctantly before slowly making his descent down the side of the house. 

When his muddy Reebok sneakers hit the pavement, he’s left disoriented. Not that the climb had any effect on him, but Y/N’s mood was just so off putting. 

He knew she would at least be bummed. He imagined her parents would get mad and maybe even ground her and that’d be enough to have her properly pissed off, but he didn’t expect her to be so… perturbed.

 Maybe it should come as no surprise, given how anxious she was before she got home last night. And you’d think after all the things Eddie’s cynical eyes have seen, he would know better than to have hope, but something in him can’t help himself. For once, he wanted his expectation to meet his reality no matter how much he wished he didn’t.

For Y/N, all sense of hope disintegrated the night before. It feels like nothing even matters. Once in a tug of war between her parents wishes and her own, the rope got yanked out of her hands making her fall in the mud.

She couldn’t run away. She couldn’t fight it. All she could do was freeze. Freeze and retreat into a hole of safety and familiarity which was obeying her parents and keeping any hope of something with Eddie tucked away at the back of her bleeding heart.

***

The silence continued the next day at school, where a cloud of doom loomed over her incessantly. Y/N breezed by, narrowly escaping the minimum amount of effort required of her classes and demands of friends or teachers.

Until chemistry class.

As soon as she walked in, Eddie, who normally arrives as the bell rings, was already there waiting for her. He rushed over to her and engulfed her in a warm hug.

“Sweetheart, what happened? Are you okay?”

Y/N pulled away, acutely aware of the odd stares from her classmates. But those were pinpricks compared to the blistering pain of her parents' wrath.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He frowns.

She shrugs his touch away, “Meet me in the woods behind the school during lunch.” 

Like clockwork, Eddie finds her sitting on the shoddy wooden bench in the clearing out past the track and field. The sound of his footsteps with leaves crunching under his feet and the chain swinging along his jeans announcing his arrival.

“Hey smarty pants,” he greets, gently teasing. He slides in the spot next to her and wraps a protective arm around her hunched over shoulders. He kisses the top of her head and the proximity of his actions brings the scent of soap and the sort of musky scent she doesn’t know what to call other than just, boy, to her nostrils. It makes her close her eyes and shoulders drop slightly.

“I was worried about you yesterday. Was hoping you might call, sweetheart,” he sweetly says as he cups her cheek.

Y/N turns the other cheek and looks down at her lap. His touch is too tempting. Her body yearns for him, but she can’t. She has to be strong enough to resist.

“My parents took my phone away. I’m not even allowed to use the main phone in the kitchen unless it's for an emergency,” Y/N glumly replies.

“I think a quick call to your local dungeon master counts as an emergency,” he teases.

“Eddie,” She looks up at him sullenly, “It’s not funny.”

Y/N looks down and Eddie frowns.

“Hey, look at me,” he softly instructs, turning her shoulders towards him.

She holds her breath and looks into his warm eyes. They’re so beautiful, she wishes she could just jump into his irises and swim in the warm lagoon of their honey hue.

“We’re gonna figure this out, okay?”

“How? My phone privileges were taken away and I’m grounded for a month. I’m pretty much not allowed to do anything but go to school.”

“Seriously,” he asks, arms tensing at the thought.

“Yeah,” she looks down dejectedly.

“That’s bullshit. Are you kidding me?”

Y/N frowns angrily and huffs. Like she doesn’t already know that. 

“Those’re the rules, Eddie” she shrugs glumly. “I have to follow them.”

Eddie exhales through his nostrils. “And what if you don’t?”

Y/N looks at him incredulously, “Eddie are you serious? I got the ass-chewing of a lifetime. I’ve never gotten in trouble like this before. I-I feel horrible for what I did.”

“Well, you shouldn’t.”

“Eddie, what are you talking about?”

“Y/N did nothing wrong. Your parents are just blowing this way outta proportion. Teenage rebellion is good. Healthy even.”

“Look Eddie, just because you can get away with being rebellious doesn’t mean I can.”

Eddie huffs in frustration. “I’m just saying, you need to stand up for yourself. Your parents are only gonna keep controlling you if you let them.”

Y/N opens her mouth to say something but nothing comes out.

“And besides, who are your parents to stop you? I mean, think about it. The first time you do something like that, it’ll shock them, but the more you do it, the more they’ll get used to it. Then they’ll have no choice but to face the fact that we want to be together.”

Y/N looks at him in disgust and shakes her head before looking up at him with fear in her eyes, “Eddie, what the hell? I barely made it out of there alive.”

Eddie drops his shoulders he hadn’t realized were tensed up.

“You just don’t understand. It’s never gonna get any better. And even if it did, I… I wouldn’t want my parents to just put up with us dating. I love my parents and I don’t want to disappoint them any more than I already have.”

Eddie looks her square in the eye and throws the curveball of a question, “Y/N are you really disappointing them or are you finally doing what makes you happy?”

Y/N jerks her head back. She doesn’t know why his words cut as sharply as a knife as they do, but it stings nonetheless.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters to me is being with you, the right way. I want my parents to accept us.”

“And what if they don’t?”

Eddie looks into Y/N’s eyes.

“Are you only ever going to do things they approve of?”

Y/N’s teeth clench and her lips purse. She grabs onto the wooden table for stability as she feels tears threatening to spring from her eyes, but she can’t let Eddie see her cry. She can’t. 

The question in her mind that has her on the verge of explosion: Is it really so wrong for me to want to date Eddie and have my parent’s approval too?

Eddie’s features soften at the sight of her state of deep tension. He has to remind himself that Y/N isn’t the one he should be mad at, it’s her parents. Even though Y/N is the one freely letting her parents drive the wedge between them even deeper. 

A small part of him is envious. He almost admires Y/N’s willingness to obey her parents. And the way she doesn’t hate them for what they’ve done. She hasn’t even thought to continue dating him just to spite them.

And yet, the bigger part of him, full of spite and resentment he has toward his own parents, is angry, both at and for her. He crashed and burned trying to get his own father’s acceptance way back when and doesn’t want her to do the same. 

“Look, I’m just… I hate seeing you like this,” he presses a palm to her back and gently rubs. “I know you really care about what your parents have to say, but they’re wrong about us, about you,” he whispers as he brings a hand forward to caress her hair. “Y/N, listen, you didn’t do anything wrong, okay?”

Y/N breathes in deeply, “Eddie… You didn’t see the look on their faces. It was like-like I’d taken their hearts and just smashed them into tiny little pieces, right in front of them.”

Eddie wants to say something, but is rendered speechless. He wants to complain about how unfair her parents are being or how ridiculous it all is, but he can see how upset she already is. He doesn’t want to be the one to bring any more tears to her precious eyes.

He wraps his arms around her and whispers in her hair, “I know.”

Y/N leans into his touch but doesn’t wrap her arms around him back.

Eddie takes a deep breath in and slowly pulls away. “So what are we gonna do now?”

Y/N peers up at him, through her curled lashes. Her eyes like falling stars. 

“I think we need to call it.”

“W-What?” He chokes.

“I can’t,” Y/N sniffles and shakes her head, “I don’t think I can do this.”

“What?” He sighs and frustratedly runs a hand through his hair, “Is this really what you want?”

Y/N shakes her head, “No, but I–”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie calls out to her, making her heart constrict. Y/N looks at him from the corner of her eye. “Remember what I said to you that night, on the phone?”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow at Y/N awaiting her answer as she reluctantly nods.

“I meant it, okay? Every word. I’ll do whatever it takes for us to be together. To have a shot at finding out whatever this is, it’s the least we deserve, right?”

He moves his head to meet her gaze. 

“I want,” his voice cracks and he clears his throat. If Eddie starts crying then Y/N will surely cry too and absolutely none of that can happen.

“I need you in my life, Y/N. And I know you feel the same way too.”

Y/N’s breath hitches in her throat. Hearing Eddie say he needs her in almost the same way she did to him in the dream she’d had that night makes her heart drop to her stomach, but only for a moment.

“Eddie, it doesn’t matter what I feel. And there’s nothing you can do to change the fact that my parents won’t let us be together.”

Eddie takes one good look at her. The creases in her forehead. The tension in her shoulders. The pout on her pretty lips. And the nervous look in her eyes. The kind of look you have when you need to be on guard. Before, it was just her heart she had to guard, but now it’s her spirit too.

“And besides, what’s the end game here?”

“What?” Eddie shakes his head in confusion.

“I mean, even if we did… date, how long could it possibly last?”

Eddie blinks, completely thrown for a loop by her question. “I don’t know, as long as we can keep it going I guess.”

“Eddie, what’ll happen when we graduate? When I go off to college?”

“I-I don’t know. I hadn’t really planned out our relationship Y/N,” Eddie says in a snappier tone than he’d meant. He knows Y/N likes to plan ahead, but even for something like this?

“Maybe they’re doing us a favor. Saving us the trouble.” 

Eddie tenses, fighting his lip from quivering at the thought.

“Do you really believe that,” Eddie’s voice cracks and Y/N looks away.

She wishes her father’s words could go away. That they could’ve just gone in one ear and out the other. But they didn’t. They stuck to her. And as much as she’d like to believe in the little dream that anything is possible, she knows it's better, safer to be realistic.

For Eddie, it doesn’t matter if their relationship lasts 10 days or 10 years. And yeah it’ll hurt like hell when it’s over either way, but for her, he’s willing to take that chance. Or so he thought

“So that’s it? We’re not even going to try and see what this could be?” He asks in a steady and calculated voice.

Y/N frowns and looks away. When he puts it like that, she feels ridiculous, idiotic. Like a fool for not even trying. But how could she? How could she be brave enough to stand up to her parents? To stand tall in the face of adversity?

To cower in fear and hide away is what she’s always done. She did it whenever her sister did something rebellious and had to face the ugly consequences. 

Y/N thought she could avoid that fate. All she had to do was obey her parents. If she did what she was told her life was easy, familiar, and safe. 

“Eddie, I just…”

Y/N can feel her heart being torn down the middle. It’s killing her to let the people she loves down. If it’s not Eddie then it’s her parents. But she can stand to disappoint Eddie. She can’t stand to disappoint her parents anymore than she already has. She never wants to experience that ridicule again. 

“For the first time in my life, I felt brave. You made me feel brave. You made me feel alive. And happy. But maybe it was all too much because then…then it all blew up in my face. And now, I’m scared. 

I'm scared it’ll happen again. I’m scared that even wanting something like this makes me a bad person. I’m scared that I’ll lose you again because of something I have no control over. 

So yeah, I’m sorry if that’s not the answer you want, but it’s the only one I’ve got.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. He’s surprised by her answer. And if she wasn’t giving him the worst news possible, he would be proud of how assertive she’s being. If only she could channel that energy toward her parents.

“I think it would be best if we just acted like none of this ever happened. Now that our chemistry assignment is over and done with, I think we should just go our separate ways.”

And before he even has a chance to say anything, Y/N gets up from the table and runs away in the direction of the school. 

Her muscle memory has her making her way to the cafeteria, but as soon as she sees her friends sitting at their usual spot, she freezes in her tracks, almost bumping into someone walking with their lunch tray.

“Watch where you’re going,” they spit at her.

Y/N tenses up and looks back at her friends smiling and laughing. It should make her happy to see her friends so happy, but at this moment, all she can feel is the fragile lines of her heart cracking into broken pieces.

 She can’t do it. She thought she could at least handle lunch with them, but not today. 

She makes the great escape from the cafeteria till her legs bring her to the safe haven of the school’s library. 

She takes a spot towards the back, behind rows and rows of bookshelves by a window with a view of the student parking lot. 

She spots a few of the jocks cutting class. For a moment, she almost hopes Eddie might come and find her. But more than anything, she just wants to scream.

***

For the rest of the week, Y/N avoids Eddie like the plague. Much to her chagrin, Eddie’s persistence has resulted in many a chicken scratch written note in her locker.

Y/N please, can we talk? I miss you like crazy. If you change your mind, I’ll be waiting by my van after school today (p.s. I promise I’ll be on time).

You didn’t show up yesterday. I guess you had an after school thing. One of those clubs you’re in that I forgot about. Ever the lovely smarty pants. Anyway, I have to stay after school for Hellfire today. Just so you know, the drama club doors are always open. 

I know you won’t talk to me, but I just wanted to say you look really pretty today. Well, you look pretty everyday, but especially today.

I listened to the mixtape you made me. I wish I could tell you in person, but I think I might not hate the Thompson Twins (Don’t tell the Hellfire boys though).

I miss you sweetheart, please don’t shut me out.

Y/N crumbles each of them up and shoves them into her bag, letting them collect at the bottom. It takes every ounce of energy she has not to succumb to Eddie’s poetic ways.

In the meantime, Y/N continues to laser focus on school and avoid her friends. 

She stopped eating lunch in the cafeteria and came up with an excuse to get out of any conversation with them in class.

Y/N didn’t want to have to explain what happened or pretend like everything was normal to anyone, so instead she’s choosing to walk the paved path before her alone. 

Whenever Y/N comes home, she hides away in her room like a crab hiding in its shell, only coming out at meal times or to leave for school in the morning. 

By the end of that long miserable week, Y/N asks her sister to take her to the Radio Shack. She’s been saving up her birthday money for an emergency and this was as much of an emergency as anything.

Normally her sister would object to chauffeuring her around, but even she felt a little bad for Y/N. 

Luckily, because her sister would accompany her, Y/N’s parents allowed the little field trip.

A brand new Walkman and a few tapes of her favorite albums might be the only beacon of hope she has for a while, at least until this all passes. If it passes. Unlike the storm that night in the back of Eddie’s van, she fears this torment may never pass. 

Eddie feels equally tormented by the whole thing. For one, he never expected to fall for a girl like Y/N. And now that he has, she’s just out of reach. Just his luck.

He knows the universe is just laughing at him like it always does, because for the first time in a long time, he actually had hope. Hope that even he can have a happy ending. But it’s long gone now.

As the days fly by and there’s no sign of change, he realizes this isn’t just a setback anymore. That there really might be nothing he can say or do to change her parents' minds. To change her mind.

And even if by a miracle, they could be together, he can’t help but feel sort of hurt and rejected by Y/N's insistence on avoiding each other and acting like what they had means nothing. 

Her act of obedience is not only taking her own happiness away, but his too. 

It hurt, but he hated letting it show. So he exchanged his pain for irritability or anger. 

He would lash out at the boys from Hellfire Club for the littlest things. He would drive home to the loudest most brash music he owned a cassette too. 

At the trailer, he would angrily pluck away at his guitar. And sometimes, on the more difficult days, he would even pick fights with angry drunks at the hideout just to feel something.

When it inevitably didn’t, all he had to do was turn to that lucky little black tackle box to take his pain and anger away. And oh, what a familiar delight that was.

Anything to numb the pain of losing her. And what could have been.

As Eddie began to turn to his vices for comfort, Y/N found comfort in a few bad habits of her own.

Self-imposed isolation in times of turmoil was one. She hardly spoke to anyone at home or school. She couldn’t be seen without her headphones on or the Walkman attached to her hip. 

It probably would have killed Eddie to know she couldn’t listen to Prince anymore. If she so much as listened to the first 3 seconds of any track on Purple Rain, she would fall apart.

But, on a hard day, she’ll pop in that one tape, lie in bed with the covers over her, and sob into her pillow as the ballad of Purple Rain flows into her ears like medicine.

The rest of her days include hiding away in her room or the library at school. She makes excuses to get out of hanging out with her friends. She cries at night and sleeps a lot during the weekends.

Another bad habit she turned to was extreme focus. All her newfound time and energy was devoted to the one and only thing in her life she could control: academics.

The self-imposed torture was alarming to many of the people in her life. 

During the first week of her punishment, her parents were taken aback at her change of temperament, but figured she was just upset. But the longer it went on, the more worried they got. So did her friends and teachers.

When they all tried checking in on her she gave the same excuse that she was just stressed about college applications, which to a degree was true. 

However, she could fool her teachers or her parents, but she couldn’t fool her friends. 

Michelle especially knew something was up. Even though Y/N hadn’t told her anything about what happened that weekend with Eddie, Michelle figured it must have something to do with the reason Y/N was acting so weird.

And even though Y/N wanted it to be kept a secret, Michelle told the rest of the girls in their friend group, out of concern.

Just like Y/N thought, they were shocked at first, but she would be surprised to learn just how happy they were for her. Happy that Y/N finally found someone, even if it was a freak like Eddie Munson. 

Immediately, they knew they had to talk to Eddie. Michelle was already at the defense, prepared to interrogate Eddie and literally fight him if he had done anything that would hurt Y/N. 

Little did they know that what hurt Y/N the most was not being with him at all.

***

After her one month punishment was served, Y/N the zombie still hadn’t left. She continued to shut the world out. 

Her parents tried to talk to her, wanting to understand why she was acting this way but she wouldn’t budge. She was giving them what they wanted, right? Anything more would be a death sentence.

And with early decision applications due soon, Y/N was in no place to waste time with friends or family or anything else that would distract her. 

She mustered up the energy to craft them to perfection. With near perfect SAT scores and gpa, all that was left was to refine her resume and essays. 

It only took many a sleepless night, but by the time she had a decent application together, she put them through an extensive review process.

She reviewed them with her current English teacher and every English teacher she had since she started high school. 

She found another school counselor who could review them and even reviewed them with the school librarian. 

And just when she thought they might be good enough, she even went to review them with the librarian at the public library in town. 

Countless hours of editing, hundreds of pencil shavings, and red pen ink stains later and she was almost there.

Before she knew it, that dreaded November day was upon her. If she wanted her application to arrive by the deadline, she would have to mail them in soon. 

One fateful Saturday morning, she sat in her room and rifled through her materials at least ten times to make sure every element of her application was present and accounted for, pristine, and completed to perfection.

She put them in the envelope and sealed it shut. With the packet addressed and ready to go, she left the house and bicycled over to the post office. 

She walked through the doors setting off a jingling noise to her ears. She walked over to the counter and handed over the packet to the person working there. 

In the blink of an eye, she sent three and a half years worth of work off its merry way to be scrutinized for her aptitude at the University of Chicago.

She had time before she would submit applications to her safety and reach schools. And with an application perfect enough for U Chicago, she knew she could reuse those same materials. 

But this was it. All those hours studying, volunteering, and working built up to this moment. And suddenly, the pressure built on herself was free to flow from her shoulders down to her hands into that packet and on their way to Chicago, IL.

As she walks out the door and the bell chimes again, a sudden and intense pang feeling hits her chest. 

Like a bomb, this gut level feeling hits her: she has no more control at this point. Between now and the time admission decisions get released, there is nothing she can do. 

There is nothing now.

As she reaches the bike stand, she begins to weep and instinctively, her hand flies to cover her mouth. 

At first it was a few hot tears quietly slipping their way down her cheeks. But then it became a deep seated cry, starting from her lungs and chest working their way up to her throat then her eyes and finally her head.

It had been weeks of crying, but now it felt explosive. For the first time since that dreadful night, she truly feels lost and alone. 

Without a goal to keep her company or give her hope anymore, she’s never felt so small. 

As she hops on her bike and cycles past a park, she wanders through a clearing in the woods. She finds access to a stream and hops off her bike to gently kneel before it, watching as the current lazily washes over the rocks. The light breeze in the air swooshes against her hair.

For a moment, she can see her muddled reflection in the water. Her teary eyes blinking rapidly and her cheeks red hot.

Once she was sure no one was around, she let it all out. No holding back. She held her head in her hands as she cried and screamed till her cheeks and lungs burned.

All these years, she’d spent 110% of her effort trying to be perfect for others, to submit to their scrutiny. It took every ounce of energy she had. The weight of it all that's been crushing her down all these years is suddenly gone. 

For the first time, the pressure is gone. The need to be perfect, at an all time low. 

It doesn’t matter what she does. Whatever is meant to happen will happen. The earth will still spin on its axis at a 23 degree angle. The sun will rise and fall no matter what she does. Or who she is.

At the very least, she’ll want to maintain her gpa to graduate as number 3 in her class, but otherwise… She doesn’t really have to do anything to prove herself anymore. 

She can finally breathe.

She lowers her hands and looks at her reflection in the water. She laughs aloud and sighs.

When there were no tears left to cry, she regains her breath, dusts herself off and cycles back home. 

***

Y/N feels a shift in her spirit. Like she's a new person, well, sort of. She’s no longer the girl that grinds herself to shreds to achieve her goals, well not until the next goal presents itself. But for now, she can relax. She can surrender to life.

What sort of person will she become with this newfound freedom? She doesn’t quite know.

When she gets home, she ignores the sounds of her parents and sister and goes upstairs. She locks herself in her room and searches through her closet. She takes out the dusty old half-used sketchbook. She sits at her desk, puts on her headphones, and starts her Walkman. 

She takes out a perfectly sharpened, long, yellow, number two pencil. She lets the pencil hit the paper and it flies.

She draws and draws and draws for the rest of the day. 

Without even thinking, she just draws whatever her hand feels like drawing. She fills pages and pages of the sketchbook. She never stops to eat or drink or even use the bathroom. She has years worth of drawing she needs to let out.

She draws pictures of Hawkins, her friends, memories of Chicago, her favorite album covers, her room the way it is now, her room the way she wished it had been decorated, her favorite movie posters, outfits she’s seen other people wear that she thought looked cool, people from school, landscapes of school, college applications, the stress of maintaining a perfect gpa, herself when she graduates, and Eddie.

She draws so many pictures of Eddie. Eddie in the library, Eddie at the diner, Eddie in his van, Eddie at the lake, Eddie and his beautiful long hair, Eddie’s lovely hands adorned with chunky rings, Eddie's tattoos, the new tattoos she had drawn on him that day, Eddie in a Hellfire shirt, Eddie in his Metallica crop top, Eddie in that jacket he wears like a uniform, Eddie with the chain on the jeans hung loose on his hips, Eddie with a bandana hanging out of his back pocket, Eddie in his room, Eddie playing guitar for her, Eddie teaching her how to play guitar.

Eddie Munson, the first boy to ever steal her heart. 

It all comes out of her so fiercely. It takes over her like a spell. She was in the zone. She didn’t realize the magnitude of the force of her drawing till she woke up the next day still seated at her desk. Light seeping through the slits of the curtains. She turns to the side and sees a plate of what must have been dinner off to the side of the desk. 

What? Who brought her that? When did they come in? Was Y/N already asleep? Surely they wouldn’t have left it if she was asleep. How did she not notice them? 

She looks back at the clock on her wall that reads 12:36. 

Y/N’s never woken up this late. What happened yesterday?

She looks down at the sketchbook opened at a page with a drawing of the Grease movie poster reimagined with her and Eddie smudged at different places.

Her desk is littered with pencil shavings, eraser filings, and broken or shorter pencils. 

She flips through the pages filled with at least dozens of new drawings. Some are messy and crude while others are bright and beautiful. 

She closes the sketchbook and holds it to her chest. She smiles and starts crying. She’s confused by the tears despite feeling relieved and realizes they’re tears of joy. 

After all these years, she’s still got it. More than ever before, drawing has brought her so much joy. Joy she almost forgot even existed.

She takes a deep breath in satisfaction. This alone is enough to keep her happy. Even if she never makes a penny on her drawings, she’ll continue to do them. She doesn’t care what kind of job she has, as long as it can afford her to live comfortably and have time for this. Drawing. It’s what makes her happy. It’s what feeds her soul. It’s what makes her spirit soar. 

She loves it so much, she just wishes she could share it with someone. But who? Her parents never cared for her talent. Her friends might think it’s cool the first few drawings but after that? Who knows. 

Someone knocks on her door and slowly opens it. And for some reason, Y/N’s mind instantly runs to Eddie.

But it’s her sister who peeks through the crack in the door before sighing in relief and opening it all the way.

“Phew, you’re awake. And conscious.”

“What happened?”

“You stomped home and shut yourself in your room which is what you usually do now, but whenever we called you for lunch and dinner you didn’t answer so we checked in on you to see a drawing demon possessed you.”

Y/N looks around her desk.

“Are mom and dad mad?”

“Nah. They were weirded out at first but then they were just glad you weren’t crying or sleeping.”

“Oh,” Y/N replies, not sure if her parents' reaction is a good thing or a bad thing. 

“Is everything okay? You’ve been acting really weird.”

Y/N glares at her sister. So much for the, now short lived, joy of drawing. 

“It’s nothing.” Her sister would never understand.

“Is it because mom and dad won’t let you date? Just do it in secret. They won’t know the difference.”

“That was me trying to date him in secret,” Y/N offhandedly admits to herself. “Guess I’m no good at it.”

“It sucks, but you’ll get over it and then next thing you’ll know, you’ll have moved on to the next guy.”

Y/N shakes her head. “I don’t want to move into the next guy. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. You of all people should know that it’s not about which boy I date, but about not getting to date period.”

“You get better about hiding the more you do it.” Her sister shrugs. 

“I don’t want to have to hide or lie about it. I hate doing that. I always feel horrible after.”

What Y/N wants is for her parents to be cool with her dating like her other friends' parents are. Y/N doesn’t want to feel like a bad daughter for falling in love. 

Before her sister can respond, her mom calls out from downstairs.

“Is Y/N awake?”

“Yes,” her sister yells out.

“Come down, lunch is getting cold.”

Y/N’s sister raises her eyebrows before turning around and heading down stairs. 

Y/N sullenly follows suit, trudging down the stairs. As she walks into the kitchen, she sees her family sitting at the table. Her mom's eyes light up when she sees Y/N.

Y/N begrudgingly takes a seat. 

“Good afternoon sleeping beauty,” her mom teasingly greets. The words make Y/N cringe, but she musters a half smile.

“How are you feeling?”

Y/N shoves a fork into her food, “Fine”.

Y/N’s mom pointedly looks at her dad. 

“We’re going to go to the grocery store after this, want to come? We can get your favorite cereal,” her mom excitedly offers. 

What is Y/N, five years old?

“No thanks, I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been up in your room an awful lot. Maybe it’ll do you good to go outside. Get some fresh air.”

Y/N shakes her head, “What’s the point? It’s not like I’m allowed to do anything fun right?”

“Drop the attitude Y/N,” her dad scolds. 

“Y/N, you can’t be mad forever. There’ll be plenty of opportunities to have fun after high school.”

For a moment, Y/N thought she was in the clear. She thought things would get better again. But it turns out drawing was just the bandaid on a bullet wound. 

The next day at school, Y/N’s mood slightly improves, only if she’s scribbling in her sketchbook. 

Eddie notices her pulling it out in class and he could just cry. He’s so proud of her for getting into drawing again. He wishes he could say something to her or ask to see one of her drawings, but he knows there’s a line that’d be crossed if he did. 

Later that day, Michelle and the rest of Y/N’s friends decide to finally talk to Eddie.

“You’re Eddie Munson, right?” Michelle asks as she approaches Eddie at his table at lunch.

“Who’s asking,” Eddie defensively replies.

“I’m Michelle, a friend of Y/N’s,” Michelle says and Eddie’s eyes soften. “We need to talk.”

Michelle leads him over to their lunch table where Y/N is undoubtedly gone again.

As Eddie sits down, the other girls stare at him, some confusingly, others surprisingly.

“What’s going on with Y/N. Is she okay?”

Michelle looks at him cautiously, “We could ask you the same thing Munson?”

“What are you talking about?” Eddie asks in confusion.

“We know something’s wrong with Y/N and we know you have something to do with it.”

“Uh, I’d say it’s more her parents fault than anything.”

The girls look at each other confused. Eddie furrows his own eyebrows in confusion.

“What do you mean?” Michelle asks.

“I mean, I know I’m kind of at fault for not being careful enough, but I just didn’t think her parents were going to find out, you know.”

“Y/N’s parents found out about you?!”

“Yeah,” Eddie responds looking at them curiously, “Did she not tell you?”

“Y/N hasn’t said a word to us since that weekend,” Michelle says. “Any idea why that is?”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head, “ I mean, I know why she’s avoiding me, but I don’t know why she would avoid you guys. She was grounded for a while and her parents wouldn’t let her go out or use the phone, but I’m pretty sure she could still talk to you at school.”

The girls look at each other in shock.

“Eddie, what exactly happened between you and Y/N that weekend,” Michelle asks. And Eddie tells the girls everything. 

He tells them about how it all started with a simple chemistry assignment. That they’d seen each other practically every day after school. How she wanted to see him again, even though she was afraid of being caught. How much they’d grown to like each other, especially after that day at the lake.

But when he brought her home only thirty minutes past curfew, her parents absolutely flipped out. Her mom was outside waiting for her and saw Eddie. He had no idea what happened after that.

But when she’d called him later that night, she was crying. She’d sounded so heartbroken. And the following Monday at school, she called it off. And he hasn’t heard from her since.

“We need to go find Y/N right now,” Michelle declares as she stands up. 

“And do what Michelle, interrogate her? It’s obvious she wants to be left alone.”

“She’s been left alone long enough. She needs us. All of us,” Michelle adds, looking pointedly at Eddie.

“And you, why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you do anything? You left her to deal with all that alone?” Michelle asks Eddie.

Eddie stands up and scowls, “Listen princess, you don’t know a thing about me, okay?”

Michelle and the other girls look at him with wide eyes and slack jaws.

“And I didn’t… I didn’t leave her to deal with it alone. I wanted to deal with it together, but she wouldn’t let me. She kept… pushing me away,” he mutters the last words through gritted teeth. He looks up at her, and she sees the pain and torment in his eyes.

Michelle looks at him with pity. She doesn’t know Eddie well, but it comes as a shock to see his tough guy persona facade crackling right in front of her very eyes. 

She sits back down and takes a deep breath. Eddie sits down with her. 

“Guys, what are we going to do?”

“Michelle’s right, maybe we should go talk to her, see what’s going on. Let her know we’re here for her.” One girl says.

“I don’t think it should be all of us though. I think she might get freaked out. You said she didn’t even want us to know right?” Another girl adds and Michelle nods.

“Maybe you should talk to her, Michelle. I think if it’s just you, she might be willing to open up.”

The lines in her forehead crease and she contemplates. “I don’t even know where to find her. I’ve seen her hide out in the library a few times and even then she always avoids me.”

“If she’s not there, she might be in the woods just past the school,” Eddie suggests. 

“I think she has honor society meetings on Wednesdays too,” one girl adds.

“That’s today,” Michelle exclaims. “Okay, I know just what to do.”

“Wait,” Eddie juts his hand out.

“What?” Michelle asks.

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow and straighten. He blinks and opens his mouth, “I…” 

The girls all look at him as he searches his brain for the right words to say. 

“If you see Y/N, could you tell her that… I would let the whole world know I love Prince if it meant we could be together.”

***

For the rest of the school day, Michelle is lost in thought, planning out just what she’ll say to Y/N. A small part of her is worried the plan won’t work, but a bigger more determined part knows it will. 

She knows Y/N tends to retreat inward when times get tough. That she hates letting it show when she has a moment of weakness, but that was usually over a bad test grade or minor problem she was having with someone in honor society. It’s never gotten this bad before. 

Michelle waits for Y/N outside the honor society meeting room, nervously checking her watch. To her luck, Y/N is one of the last few to leave the room. 

When Y/N walks out of the room, she doesn’t notice Michelle at first. Michelle stands straight and calls Y/N’s name. Y/N stops, like a deer frozen in headlights. 

Michelle walks up to her and nervously smiles, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Y/N squeaks. 

“Can we talk?” Michelle asks. Y/N looks at her nervously. “I was thinking we could go for a drive? I can give you a ride home too, so you don’t have to walk in the cold.”

Now that is an offer Y/N can’t refuse. But she still blinks nervously. “Ok.”

The two walk to the front of the school. “How was honor society today?”

“It was alright. We’re getting ready for winter formal.”

“Oh, that’s exciting,” Michelle says, “and stressful?”

“Exciting, yes,” Y/N laughs, “Stressful? Should be, but I just don’t have it in me to care anymore.”

“What?” Michelle asks in amused surprise. “Y/N, not caring about something school related? Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

Y/N weakly laughs. “It’s exhausting to care so much”

“Yeah, I hear that one” Michelle says as they get into her car. 

They continue to make small talk as Michelle pulls into the parking lot of the public park by their houses. It’s the park they used to go to all the time as kids. 

Michelle parks the car and looks over at Y/N.

“Hey girl, is everything okay? You’ve been really distant. The girls and I are starting to get worried about you.”

“Oh, haha, that?” Y/N laughs nervously, “sorry about that. I was just really caught up in college application season, you know? I just wanted to put all my time and effort into having the perfect application for U Chicago and didn’t want anything to distract me from it.”

Michelle sees through Y/N instantly. She knows there’s some truth in her explanation, but it’s not enough to explain the emotional distance too. But before she fully interrogates her, she decides to ease her way in. 

“So how do you feel about your application? Have you submitted it yet?”

“Yeah, I submitted it over the weekend. I, um, I feel pretty good about it. I know I did the best I could. Just sort of worried it still won’t be…”

“Good enough?”

Y/N presses her lips together and nods. 

“Y/N if U Chicago can’t see what a superstar you are, it is their loss, you hear me?”

Y/N smiles meekly, letting out a breathy laugh. 

“Seriously. They’d be so lucky to have you as a student. You’re the smartest, most hardworking and talented person I know.”

“Thanks Michelle,” Y/N softly smiles. “It’s all just really nerve-wracking.”

“I know, but we all believe in you. You need to believe in yourself too, okay?”

“Yeah, I’m… trying,” Y/N smiles weakly.

Michelle looks down at the sketchbook in Y/N’s lap and smiles up at her. 

“You’re drawing again?”

Y/N’s eyes widen, “Oh, um, yeah.”

“That’s awesome!” Michelle compliments, looking Y/N sincerely in the eye.

Y/N smiles shyly and looks away, “Yeah, um, now that I don’t have to worry about college applications that much anymore, I have more time for, um, this.”

“That’s really great. I’m happy you’re drawing again. I know how much you missed it.”

Y/N winces and smiles. “Yeah.”

Michelle leans over and peeks at the pages between Y/N’s fingers “Can I see one?” 

Y/N’s head shoots up and her eyes grow to the size of golf balls. She clutches the sketchbook to her chest and tenses her shoulders.

Michelle nervously laughs and leans back, “I mean, if you ever wanted to, I’d love to see what you’ve drawn.”

Y/N loosens her grip and looks down. In a dream world, no one would ever bear witness to her creations. To live inside her mind this way would be too invasive. But at the same time, what’s the use of creating something if it isn’t meant to be shared with the world. As scary as the world is, her best friend might be a good start.  

She opens the book slowly and flips through the pages to find one she knows Michelle will like. 

It’s a picture of all the girls together at Starcourt mall. The day they went to see Footloose together. She even drew the movie poster in the corner. 

She puts the book on display for Michelle and shs grabs the ends.

“Y/N,” Michelle squeaks, eyes widened in awe. “I love it.”

“Portraits and faces aren’t really my forte, but it’s a bit easier to draw things from memory.”

“No, no it’s perfect. The girls would love it too.”

Y/N frowns and Michelle tenses. “I mean, if you ever wanted to show them.”

Y/N presses her lips together.

“Y/N, I miss you Y/N. We all do. Why don’t you come sit with us at lunch anymore?”

Y/N opens her mouth to reply but nothing comes out. 

“Did we do something to upset you?” Michelle asks cautiously.

“No, no,” Y/N shakes her head. “I’m just… I’ve just been busy, is all.”

“Y/N,” Michelle scolds. 

“I-I am.” Y/N shrugs.

Michelle takes a deep breath in, “I know you’ve been busy with college applications and everything, butThis… This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain member of the Hellfire Club, would it?”

Y/N eyes nearly pop out of her head as every muscle in her body tenses. “What?” She mutters between gritted teeth.

“I noticed you started avoiding us after that weekend you said you were going out with him. Did something happen?”

“Um, no, no. Nothing happened,” Y/N says nervously.

Michelle cocks an eyebrow, “Y/N, did Eddie do anything to… hurt you?”

“What?! No! No… Quite the opposite actually.”

“Oh, so what happened?”

“What happened?”

“Yeah, what happened with you and Eddie that weekend?”

“Um, it was… I just realized he wasn’t the right guy for me,” Y/N replies as she looks down and fidgets with the corners of her sketchbook.

Michelle glares at Y/N. Y/N peers up at Michelle.

“What?” Y/N asks innocently. 

“Why are you lying?”

“I-I’m no—“

“Bullshit Y/N. I know what happened. Eddie told us everything.”

Y/N gasps, “You talked to Eddie?” 

Michelle nods. 

Y/N grows teary eyed imagining Eddie tell her friends about the moments they shared together in his trailer, at the diner, at the lake, in the back of his van.

“He told you… Everything?”

Michelle grabs Y/N’s hand and squeezes, “Everything.”

Y/N wiggles her hand out of Michelle’s grasp and brings both to cover her face. She hangs her head in her hands and starts sobbing. 

“Y/N,” Michelle says endearingly. She wraps her arms around her and hugs her tightly. Y/N leans into her touch and continues to sob. Her teardrops run down her cheeks as her palms squish them flat. 

“I know, I know. It’s okay,” Michelle comfortingly hums as she strokes Y/N’s hair. 

She’s never seen Y/N like this before. She knows Y/N hates crying in front of others, so it must be something bad enough to make her act like this. 

When some of her sobs soften, Michelle says, “Y/N I’m sorry things didn’t turn out the way you wanted it to, but you were so brave for putting yourself out there. It took a lot of courage.”

Y/N sniffles and sobs even harder. “It was so hard. It hurts so much.”

“I know, I know. It took a lot of guts. I’m proud of you for even trying.”

Y/N sheds a few more tears before moving her hands away and looking at Michelle. 

“Really?”

Michelle smiles at Y/N’s puffy eyes and blotchy cheeks. 

“Of course! I know how you are. And I know how your parents are. For someone who hardly ever listens to their heart, I’m glad you did this time. I know it must’ve been scary, but not a lot of people have the courage to follow their heart and do what makes you happy, especially when no one else understands.”

Y/N raises her eyebrows. Michelle places a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, “You deserve to be happy Y/N, even if it’s the school freak causing it ”

Y/N looks away and laughs. She mutters, “it doesn’t feel that way. My parents made sure of that.”

“Have you tried talking to them?”

Y/N glares at Michelle, “Not since the night it happened. They made it pretty clear they won’t budge on their stance.”

“Things are different now, right? Maybe that night they were just caught up in the heat of the moment. Maybe it’d be different if you tried talking to them now.”

“And what would I say? Hey mom, dad, can I please have a boyfriend? Pretty, please? All my friends have one.”

“No,” Michelle rolls her eyes and chuckles, “I’m just saying, let your parents know where you’re coming from. You’re a great daughter. They have every reason to trust you. And they should trust they raised a responsible girl.”

“Michelle,” Y/N shakes her head. “There’s no way I can do that. My parents aren’t like the parents you see on tv or in movies. I can’t just negotiate things with them. What they say is law and I have to abide by that if I want to make it out of there alive.”

Michelle frowns, “What if we were there with you?”

“Huh,” Y/N wipes her cheek.

“What if the girls and I were there with you while you talked to your parents? For moral support. And evidence of how great of a person you are to support your case.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “you still have 4 years till you go to law school Miche, you don’t need to practice your lawyer skills on me.”

Michelle rolls her eyes and smiles. “It’s not like that, I’m simply exercising my human right to support my friends. So what if the scales of justice propel my life?”

Y/N laughs. “Thanks, but, in all honesty, I don’t think it’d be worth it. We’d all be wasting our time. My parents tell my sister and I time and time again that they’re not one of our friends. I doubt they’d care what you all have to say.”

Michelle searches Y/N’s eyes. She won’t take no for an answer. If not this way, then she'll find another, but she has to know. “If you knew there was a chance they might listen to what you have to say, and that you could convince them, would you want that?”

“What do you mean?”

“For arguments sake, let’s just say you could somehow convince your parents to let you date Eddie and actually change their minds about the whole thing.”

“Okay?”

“Would you want that to happen? To be able to change their minds?”

Without hesitation Y/N says, “Of course.”

Michelle grabs her hand and pauses for a moment before asking, “Do you miss Eddie?”

Y/N peers up at Michelle before looking down at her lap, brows furrowed. “I’m trying really hard not to.”

“I think he is too.”

“What,” Y/N eagerly looks at Michelle.

“Yeah. That boy has a real soft spot for you.”

Y/N scrunches her nose, “I don’t know about that.”

“He wanted me to tell you he really did love Purple Rain. Wouldn’t have pegged him for a Prince fan, personally.”

Y/N sniffles and laughs, “I guess that’s kind of my doing. We don’t really like the same music, but Prince became the one thing we could agree on.”

Michelle smiles at her.

“He learned to play a few songs for me too. It was really sweet,” Y/N sighs happily before her features turn down again. “Anytime I listen to his music, I think of Eddie and it makes me really sad.”

Michelle sighs. Y/N, who’s always been so strong, has never looked more weak and defeated. 

Y/N might have lost hope, but Michelle hasn’t. She knows they can find a way to make things right. But for now, she doesn’t exactly know what that way is.

***

For the rest of the week, Y/N carries on like usual. She starts making brief appearances at lunch, but she usually comes up with some excuse to leave early.

When Y/N’s gone, Michelle tells the girls what happened when she talked to Y/N. “I don’t know how we’re going to do it, but we are going to make sure Y/N’s parents let her date Eddie.”

“How exactly are we going to do that?” One girl asks.

“I don’t know,” Michelle slumps in her seat. “I really think they’d hear Y/N out if one of us was there too. Especially if all of us are there. She needs our moral support and there’s strength in numbers.”

“Wouldn’t her parents just think we’re ambushing them?” Another girl asks.

“Maybe,” Michelle contemplates, “But maybe it wouldn’t be a complete ambush if Y/N didn’t know.”

“What?”Another girl asks. “Wouldn’t that be worse to just walk up to their door like, surprise! Now will you please give us ten minutes to convince you why our best friend should have a boyfriend?”

“Not exactly. But I think if we showed up and really talked to them, we could find common ground saying how we’ve been concerned about Y/N from the way she’s been acting and wanted to check on her. We heard what’s happened with Eddie and wanted to let you know how great of a guy he is for her.” Michelle explains.

“Shouldn’t Eddie be here for this conversation then?” One girl asks.

“I don’t know, should he?” Another chimes in.

“Yeah, he probably should. I mean, we are trying to get them back together right?”

“Yeah, let me go get him,” Michelle says. She walks over to Eddie’s table and summons him back to theirs.

“Here’s the deal Eddie, I talked to Y/N and she’s doing a lot better, but she’s still really broken up by this whole situation. So, I propose we all go to her house and talk to her parents to see if we can convince them to let you two date.”

“What? Are you out of your mind?” Eddie scowls. “No way. It’s a miracle I left her house in one piece that night.”

“Eddie, don’t tell me you’re scared of Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N?”

“I’m not… scared. I just know what I’m up against. I know her parents don’t like me and don’t want us to be together.”

“Well, I can’t guarantee they’ll like you any more after this, but if you want to date their daughter, they’ll at least need to respect you.”

Eddie sneers. In what world could any of this possibly work?

“And we’ll be right there with you. They like us, so you’ll get like ten points by association.”

Eddie shakes his head. He can at least pretend to entertain the thought that talking to her parents could work. “Okay, so what do I have to do?”

“You need to come with us, be presentable and on your best behavior, and help us convince Y/N’s parents to let her date you.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “What? You want me to grovel to her parents? No way.”

“Eddie c’mon.”

“No, not happening. Why should I be the one to kiss their asses? Why should I have to change myself for their approval? I swore to myself I’d never do that shit again.”

“Eddie, we’re not asking you to change yourself. It’s obvious Y/N likes you just the way you are. We’re not messing with that. We just need to show her parents… your good side.”

“My good side?”

“Yeah. Show them what a gentleman you are. That you’re gonna take care of their daughter and treat her with respect. That you’ll be a good influence on her.”

Eddie scowls in disgust. “What else? Do you want me in a monkey suit too? Cut my hair to a suitable non-Beatle length?”

“Eddie, work with us, okay? We’re on the same team.”

Eddie sighs and runs a hand through his hair. 

“Look, let’s try a little role play. I’ll be her parents and you just answer as yourself.”

“Not the kind of role play I’d willingly get into but okay.”

“Eddie.”

“I was talking about D&D,” Eddie snickers. 

Michelle rolls her eyes, “Okay, Eddie, is it. What are your intentions with our daughter?”

“To corrupt her. Stray her away from the path of God. Convert her into a super senior freak like me,” he answers confidently and smiles crazily with his tongue hanging out. 

Michelle smacks his arm, “Eddie, I know you think you’re being funny right now, but this is serious. Do you want to be with Y/N yes or no?”

Eddie sighs and looks away, muttering, “Yes.”

“Okay, let’s try this again. Eddie, what are your intentions with our daughter?”

Eddie closes his eyes and breathes in. He opens them and looks straight into Michelle’s eyes. “I want to date your daughter. I know she isn’t normally allowed, but I care about her a lot and want to have an honest conversation about why I should.”

“Ooh,” the girls all coo. 

Michelle raises her brows and nods, “Okay, that’s a start.”

“Ugh,” Eddie sneers. “I feel like I’m in court, pleading my case.”

“In a way, you are Munson. Her parents are the judge and we’re all witnesses. But lucky for you, I’m your attorney.”

“What?” Eddie asks with disdain. 

“I want to be a lawyer when I’m older. I’ve been able to argue my way out of pretty much anything since I was 5.”

“Where were you the night we got caught?” Eddie rolls his eyes. 

Michelle shakes her head. “Okay, let’s try another one. Eddie, our darling Y/N is a stellar student on the way to becoming a freshman at the University of Chicago. How are you doing in school? What are your plans after graduation?”

Eddie begins sweating, throat growing dry. “I don’t know what to say.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know the answer to that question isn’t something they want to hear.”

“Here we’ll workshop it. Just give me the real answer and we’ll work on the wording together.”

“Um, this is my third senior year and I don’t even know if I’ll graduate so I haven’t even thought that far enough?”

“Yikes, okay—“

Eddie rubs a palm over his face, “See! This is stupid there’s no way they’re gonna say yes to this,” Eddie comments as he points to his face.

“Eddie, get a grip, okay,” Michelle orders as she grabs his shoulders and shakes him. “It’s really starting to piss me off how hopeless you and Y/N are being about this.”

Eddie scoffs, “I hate this. I never care what anyone thinks about me. But for Y/N… for some reason, I do. It was enough of a miracle for her to like me. And I normally wouldn’t care what her parents think either, but it means enough to her for me to.”

Michelle looks at him understandingly.

“And her parents… I barely met her mom so not enough to get a real impression. But from what Y/N’s told me… I’m terrified. I mean, you've met her parents right? How are you not afraid of them?”

“Well for one, I know how to kiss ass to get what I want. But two, I’m not really afraid of anyone. If someone doesn’t like me that’s their problem. And if they make it my problem, I know I can just change their minds. It’s really not that hard. Just takes a little work.”

“For you, maybe,” Eddie spits. 

“That’s what I keep trying to tell you Eddie. I’m here to help you and Y/N. We only have a fighting chance if we all combine our strengths together.”

Eddie humphs knowing Michelle is right. 

“So what should I say?”

“Well, you can admit that academics aren’t your strong suit in the way Y/N’s are. It sounds nice and it’s the truth. Then just tell them what other things you’re good at.”

“Um, so I could just say… Can you repeat the question?”

“Sure. What are you like in school Eddie? Any big plans after graduation?”

“Um, school is… okay… but not exactly where I shine. I leave that all to Y/N,” Eddie laughs nervously. 

“That’s good,” one girl encourages. 

“She’s right, that was good,” Michelle says. “Go on.”

“I, um, play guitar. I’ve been playing for as long as I can remember. I used to play for the school band, but stopped so I could form my own band. We, um, have a gig at a small venue just outside town every Tuesday.”

“That’s good. What about life after graduation?”

“Um, as for after graduation. I… won’t be going to college. I plan to start working. I used to, um… help my dad work on cars when I was younger. I still do it sometimes with my Uncle so I think I’ll probably try to become a mechanic.”

The girls look at him and contemplate his answer. 

Eddie nervously looks across their faces, “How was that? Was that… good?”

Michelle looks off into space, “Yeah, I’m just trying to think if there’s anything they might find an issue with but no I think that answer was good.”

Eddie nods. 

“And just so you know, humility goes a long way with them. Having confidence is good, but if you get cocky with them they’re gonna hate it. The nervous ums and stuff will help.”

Eddie quirks his eyebrow. “Remind me to hire you when you pass the bar.”

Michelle mocks salutes, “Will do Munson.”

“So, what else do you think they’ll ask?”

“Well they’ll probably just try to get to know you. Know what their daughter is getting into. They might ask you about your interests and hobbies or your family and friends.”

Eddie sharply inhales.

“Listen, you don’t have to tell them anything you don’t want to, but give them enough. They’ll want to know what Y/N’s getting herself into and trust that she’ll be okay.”

“No pressure right?” Eddie uncomfortably jokes.

“Eddie, the most important question you’ll need to answer is: why should we let you date our daughter?”

Eddie gulps. His forehead creases as he tries to find the right words.

“Because… I really like her. And… she’s a great girl.” Eddie winces and shrugs

Michelle furrows her eyebrows and leans forward, “Eddie, dig deep. Is that really all you’ve got?”

“No, I'm just… I don’t know what to say, man. I’m not good with words.”

“Well you better find them. This is your only shot at getting Y/N back and I’d hate to see you blow it.”

Eddie scowls at Michelle. She’s annoying, but she’s right. What other choice does he have? If he can’t change Y/N’s mind, maybe he can change her parent’s minds. 

Will they be reasonable people? Who the hell knows. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t even try.

“Fine, let me try again,” He sys through partially gritted teeth. Michelle gives him a small encouraging smile. She takes a beat and repeats the question, “So Eddie, why should we let you date our daughter?”

Eddie takes a deep breath in. He furrows his eyebrows in concentration. 

“Well Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N,” he cringes at the formality, “Dating Y/N is an honor I’m not quite sure I even deserve. Believe me, I don’t take it for granted one second that a beautiful girl like her, as smart as she is, even likes someone like me. Does Y/N deserve a guy like me? Probably not. She deserves the damn world. And I’ll do everything I can to give it to her.”

The girls all widen their eyes and say their “aw’s”

Eddie flinches, “And, um, I promise to take care of her. To respect her. To listen to her. To support her. Whatever she needs, I want to give that to her and more.”

Michelle nods, “That’s it.”

***

The next day drones on as usual, till Y/N stays after school for tutoring. After her session with a boy on the basketball team is over, she clears up her desk and packs her things in her bag.

“Good work Travis, I’ll see you next week,” she waves him off as he leaves his desk and exits the classroom. 

She exits the classroom soon after and makes her way down the empty hall. She turns into a different hallway and nears the drama room. She slows down her pace to a stop before the closed door. She takes a deep breath in and edges closer to the small window on the door, only to find an empty room with the light turned odd. She lets a breath out and sullenly walks toward the front of the school.

She opens the doors and tightens her jacket to her chest as a blast of cold air hits her in the face. She grits her teeth, bracing for the cold, and nearly chokes on the scent of cigarette smoke nearby. 

As she approaches the parking lot, a cloud of smoke presents the nearby offender, no doubt leaning against the pillar. She cranes her head in an attempt to see who it might be, but the view is blocked. 

She shrugs it off and continues to walk, not caring enough to investigate further. She has to get home and out of this wretched cold. November is off to quite a frigid start.

“Y/N?” A voice undoubtedly coming from the smoker calls out to her.

Y/N freezes in her tracks. She should just ignore him and keep walking, but her body won’t let her. 

“Y/N,” the voice calls out again and Y/N turn over her heels. She finds Eddie leaning against the pillar, one leg bent, foot pressed against the cinderblock. He drops the cigarette in his hand and lowers his foot to stomp it out. His hair shakes and the chain on his jeans jingle in the process. 

Y/N’s throat dries as she nervously watches him, still very frozen in place.

Eddie cautiously walks, no struts, over to her, reeboks stomping against the pavement in the process, and offers her the smallest smile. Even after all this time, just seeing him like this is enough to make her heart skip a beat.

Shut up heart, It’s just Eddie.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers in a raspy voice, peering deep into her eyes.

“Hey,” Y/N squeaks, surprising herself by returning his strong gaze. She hasn’t spoken to Eddie in weeks. 

They stare blankly at each other for a moment before Y/N is the first to break the silence. “What are you doing here?”

“Needed to clear my head,” he shrugs casually.

Y/N cocks an eyebrow up, “On school grounds, when last class let out an hour ago?”

Eddie shrugs painfully, “Yeah.”

Y/N gives him an unconvinced look.

“Was supposed to be at Hellfire, but I cut the meeting short.”

“Oh,” Y/N whispers, “What happened?”

Eddie presses his lips together, “The boys were just… their heads weren’t in the game, you know?”

Not really, but she nods as if she does. The tension in his eyebrows and clenched jaw tell her it wouldn’t be such a good idea to poke the bear.

“What about you?” Eddie asks.

“Tutoring,” Y/N meekly responds. 

Eddie nods and notices the way Y/N tightens her arms crossed over her chest and the slight shivering of her shoulders.

“You headed home?”

Y/N turns over her shoulder and nods at him.

Eddie reaches back and scratches at the back of his neck. “Could I, uh, give you a ride home? If that’s okay?”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Y/N mumbles.

“C’mon, it’s freezing out. Can’t have my local smart pants getting sick on my watch.”

Y/N slightly snorts at his comment and it brings a grin to Eddie’s face.

“Thanks Eddie, but I-”

“C’mon,” He gently grabs her wrist, “You’re off probation right?”

He winks and she surprisingly finds the humor in a joke about the longest month of her life.

Y/N nods and Eddie tugs, leading her to his van. “Your chariot awaits.”

Y/N complies in a stunned silence. As she climbs into the van, the worn seats feel foreign under her skin. They can’t be the same seats she sat in a little over a month ago. 

But much like Hawkins, nothing in this van has changed, only her.

Eddie starts the car and remains stationary to let the vehicle warm up. They sit in a comfortable silence as Eddie tunes the radio to Y/N’s favorite station even though a commercial is on. Y/N refrains from smiling despite the tug she feels at the corner of her mouth. 

Once the van has warmed up, Eddie pulls out of the parking lot and off to Y/N’s house. His rough slender fingers curled around the steering wheel.

The two remain in comfortable silence till they reach a stop light and suddenly, Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time comes on.

Both Eddie and Y/N instantly look at each other when the melancholy rhythm fills their ears. Before the first verse is sung, the light turns green and Eddie’s attention is back on the road while Y/N’s is on her lap. She can feel the blood pumping in her veins along the beat of the song

Lying in my bed, I hear the clock tick and think of you

Caught up in circles

Confusion is nothing new

Flashback, warm nights

Almost left behind

Suitcase of memories

Time after

Sometimes you picture me

I'm walking too far ahead

You're calling to me, I can't hear

What you've said

Then you say, "go slow"

And I fall behind

The second hand unwinds

But before Cyndi can sing the heartfelt lyrics, “If you're lost you can look and you will find me, time after time,” Y/N lowers the volume to silence. 

She looks up at him, “That song is…”

Eddie nervously laughs, “Yeah, ha, I know.”

He awkwardly looks back onto the road before him.

Y/N’s a bit surprised he even knows the song. She guesses no one can escape the heartfelt words of Cyndi Lauper, but they just ring too close to home, in a car ride with Eddie no less.

In a matter of minutes, Eddie is pulling up to Y/N’s house. She’s simultaneously thankful this carride is almost over and disappointed that this is all the time she’ll get with Eddie.

She looks out the window and glances at the red brick home. This time with a noticeable lack of tension in her shoulders or heart rate that would alarm several doctors. This time, she feels nothing.

She turns over and looks at Eddie who is intently observing her reaction. “Everything okay?”

Y/N nods sullenly. Eddie looks at her, waiting to see what she’ll do next.

Y/N looks out the window again and sees a few of the neighborhood children out riding their bikes. She turns back to Eddie and curves her lips upward slightly.

“Thanks for the ride Eddie.”

Eddie looks at her puzzled, but more relieved than anything that she’s not ardently avoiding him.

“No problem,” he nods, “I’ll always have your back.”

Y/N cocks her head to the side before shaking it and unbuckling her seatbelt. 

“Goodbye Eddie,” she sweetly says as she opens the door.

“Goodbye sweetheart,” Eddie says. Y/N freezes for a slight second, feeling her heart constrict in her chest. She recovers by climbing out of the vehicle and shoving her bag over her back. She closes the door behind her and smiles at Eddie. He nods and waits for her to enter the home. 

She slowly walks to the door. There’s no reason to rush and avoid the risk of being caught. She already has been.

She opens the door to the house and turns over her shoulder to see Eddie wave and drive off. 

She steps inside, embracing the welcomed heat. 

“Hey honey, how was school?” Her mom calls from the kitchen. For a second, her brain is on red alert, worried that her mom might’ve seen Eddie’s car. But as quickly as the thought enters her head, it leaves. What’s the worst that could happen? She gets grounded again? Her parents put some restraining order on Eddie?

“Hey mom. School was fine,” Y/N neutrally responds. 

“Learn anything exciting?”

“Not really,” Y/N responds truthfully before excusing herself to go upstairs and work on some homework before dinner.

At the back of her head, she worried her mom might’ve seen Eddie and was just waiting to bring it up later, but as the evening turned into night, nothing ever happened. 

Either she didn’t know or she wasn’t bothered enough to say anything.

***

When Friday night rolled around, Y/N enjoyed the refuge of her own bedroom, as she had for the past several weeks. But this time, she felt more restless than usual.

None of the songs on her tape deck sounded right. None of her drawings were coming out quite right. Even when she went downstairs to rummage through the pantry, none of the snacks appealed to her despite the loud rumbling coming from her stomach. 

She trudged back up the stairs and into her room and decided to do something she hadn’t done in a really long time. She closed the door and turned off all the lights. She walked over to the window and opened the curtain. For a second, she almost hoped to find Eddie down below, throwing rocks at her window once again. 

She brought her desk chair near the window and sat on it. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She sat in silence like that for a few breaths before opening her eyes and gazing out at the stars above her.

A lot of the streetlights were on, so it was hard to see, but the few she could, she decided to count them.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five Six. Seven.

She closed her eyes and pleaded to the stars, asking for answers as to what she should do. 

The ritual began when she was a young girl, praying to God for an A on her test or for her parents to stop fighting. Over the years it turned into harder questions she couldn’t ask anyone else but the stars up above. 

Something about starry skies was more comforting to her spirit than any church could ever be. Oftentimes, they had better answers too. 

But tonight, there was only silence. 

“Please, I need to know,” Y/N pleaded. She rubbed her palms over her face and rested her chin in her hands.

She wished the stars could tell her what to do. She wished they could give her an answer. 

Ever since she’d spoken to Michelle and ran into Eddie, Y/N had been feeling conflicted. Once the heat simmered down and she served her sentence, Y/N kept laying low. School and drawing took up a majority of her time and she thought she would be fine with that. But Michelle and Eddie reminded her just how much she’d missed the people in her life.

She knows that Michelle and her other friends will always be in her corner. Sometimes she needs time alone to figure things out, but they’ll always be there when she comes back. 

But Eddie… She almost lost him forever. Her car ride with him confirmed just how big that almost was, but she knows they’re on thin ice. 

She looks out to the stars, hoping for an answer. They glimmer against the dark night sky, but say little else.

She wants Eddie back in her life, even if she can’t date him which she knows is impossible. But, since her parents don’t seem to be too upset anymore, Y/N’s willing to bet they might tolerate Eddie as a friend. 

She knows it might take some begging and pleading, but she knows she’s earned it. And that Eddie would be worth fighting for. 

But before she does any of that, maybe it would be a good idea to see Eddie and talk to him first. She knows she could call him up, but this is a conversation that needs to be had in person. 

Maybe she could surprise him at the trailer tomorrow. She doesn’t know if it’ll go well, but it’s worth a shot.

***

The next morning Eddie and Y/N’s friends meet up at Michelle’s house. 

“Glad you could finally show up,” Michelle greets Eddie as she lets him through the front door. “Even though you smell like an ashtray.”

Eddie huffs as he follows Michelle, “Excuse me for wanting to calm my jangled nerves.”

Michelle leads him to her room where the rest of the girls are hanging out. “Relax Eddie, we have your back. And with a few adjustments, you’ll be ready to go.”

Eddie cocks his eyebrow and looks over at the other girls milling about the room.

“Take a seat,” Michelle gestures toward her bed. Eddie cautiously sits at the edge and looks up at the other girls in confusion.

“Good to know you have a pair of pants without holes in them,” one of the girls quips as another starts working on his hair. 

“Is it that hard to believe,” Eddie asks sarcastically. 

“Little bit,” she winks and smiles. Eddie nervously chuckles and lets out a small sigh of relief. 

“I’m not crazy about the Black Sabbath shirt though,” Michelle complains as one of the girls gently combs through Eddie’s hair.

“This is all I have. Sorry I can’t be Tom Cruise.”

“Well, you don’t need to be Tommy Lee either.”

Eddie scoffs and narrows his eyes, “You insult me.”

“Stop moving,” the girl doing his hair orders. She brings a hand to block his face and sprays water along his locks before combing through and applying a gel. 

“And this jacket situation has got to go,” one of the girls comments as she glares at his leather jacket and jean vest. 

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Cmon, it’s the only jacket I have. It’s a part of me.”

“Keep still,” The girl doing his hair orders as she scrunches at the damp locks, creating a more defined curl to his tresses.

“Not to worry, you can still be you even without your metal uniform. I bet there’s a jacket my brother left behind that you can borrow.”

“Huh?”

“He’s off at Indiana State, so what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Eddie shrugs as Michelle rummages through the coat closet down the hall.

“At least it covers your tattoos. Y/N’s parents… aren’t the most fond of those,” one of the other girls comments.

Michelle walks over with a maroon cable knit sweater and cream colored carpenter jacket.

“When your hair is done, put these on.”

Eddie reaches out and touches the knit fabric, masking a look of disgust in his face, “I feel like I should be on the cast of Happy Days.”

“Take off your shoes too.”

“What?”

“Take off your shoes.”

“Why?”

“So we can clean them. Muddy Reeboks are very punk rock but that won’t impress Y/N’s parents.”

“Punk? Please, you insult me,” Eddie snarls. “There’s a very big difference between punk and metal.”

“Why don’t you tell that to Y/N’s parents,” one of the girls sarcastically snickers.

“Why don’t you bite me,” Eddie snarls.

“Eddie,” Michelle gasps.

“And you,” Michelle looks pointedly at the girl, “Knock it off.”

“Girls, could I have a moment alone with Eddie,” Michelle pleads.

“Fine, okay,” the girls grumble. 

“I’m done with your hair Eddie. I kept it natural, but a little more defined at the curls. They’re gonna love it, and so will Y/N,” the last girl to leave pats Eddie on the shoulder and smiles.

Eddie’s shoulders relax and he smiles back at her as she leaves the room.

Michelle pulls the chair from her desk and sets it in front of Eddie. She takes a seat and tries to look Eddie in the eye despite his avoidant gaze.

“Eddie,” Michelle calls out to him. Eddie looks at her from the corner of his eye. “Look, it’s just us, okay?”

Eddie sighs exasperatedly. “What?”

“Eddie, relax okay. I know you’re nervous but–”

“I’m not nervous.”

“Then what are you Eddie? ‘Cause you’re acting really weird.”

Eddie widens his eyes and furrows his eyebrows. He turns away and reaches to scratch the back of his neck, “I don’t know man. Just feels weird.”

“What feels weird?”

“All of it. Feels like I’m about to take a test or something. I mean, this isn’t me. Changing my hair?”

“Well, your hair doesn’t look that different, just a little neater.”

“Changing my clothes?”

Michelle gazes at the sweater and jacket laid out next to him.

“Changing myself?”

Michelle’s eyes turn down.

“I know, we’re asking a lot of you. But we wouldn’t be asking this if we knew it wouldn’t make Y/N happy… We’re on your side.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows and nods.

“What’s wrong Eddie?”

Eddie shakes his head, “I mean we’re doing all this, but what’s the point? What if I’m still not good enough for them?”

Or good enough for her.

Michelle sighs and pats his knee. “Eddie, look, I don’t know you that well, but what I do know is that you’re a fighter.”

“Bullshit,” Eddie laughs. 

“I’m no fighter. See this guy?” Eddie points to himself. “Textbook runner. When the going gets tough I… always seem to run.”

Michelle takes a cold hard look at him. “What are you running from?”

“What?”

“You said you’re a runner right? So what exactly are you running from?”

Eddie shrugs, “I don’t know.”

“There’s gotta be something.”

Eddie stares at her blankly.

“I mean, do you even want us to do this anymore?”

Eddie nods and looks at her, in a way she can’t decipher.

“So, what is it Eddie?”

Eddie can’t tell her he runs away because he’s scared. He’s afraid to fight because he’s afraid he’ll lose. That the voice of his old man still looms in his head telling him so.

“What have you got to lose?” Michelle asks.

Eddie thinks about it for a moment. He supposes there’s nothing to lose at this point. The worst her parents could say is no, again. That he’d spend another excruciating day without Y/N.

“Look, you gotta promise this stays between us, alright?”

Michelle nods and takes a finger to make a cross motion over her chest. “Cross my heart.”

“You flap your lips about this to anyone and your ass is grass you hear that?”

Michelle stifles a laugh, sensing the seriousness in Eddie’s tone. “Okay.”

“I know what people in this no good town think of me. I know it’s not great. And as much as I hate to admit, it’s a lot harder to let it roll off my back than I’d like.”

Michelle nods in understanding.

“I want Y/N’s parents to… accept me. It’s stupid and ridiculous, but I do. But I don’t want it to come at the cost of conformity.”

“Eddie, I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You’re a surprisingly likable person. In all your dorky metal loving glory.”

Eddie chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“I think that’s why Y/N probably likes you so much. You’re someone who isn’t afraid to be themselves. And I think she is, but you show her how not to be.”

Eddie’s eyes soften at the surprising observation.

“When you’re not so guarded or sarcastic or cocky, you’re not such a bad guy. And I think Y/N’s deserve a chance to see that side of you. They might even surprise you.” Michelle adds.

Eddie thinks about it. He wonders if Y/N’s parents could truly surprise him.

“But besides that, this isn’t all just about you, you know? I mean, I know your ass is on the line, but so is Y/N’s. This is a battle Y/N’s been fighting her parents forever on and she needs our help.”

Eddie purses his lips and furrows his brows. 

“So what do you say, hot shot? Are you just gonna sit there or are you gonna stand up and fight for your girl?” Michelle roars

Eddie's eyes widen. He feels as though a literal fire has been sparked inside him. 

His girl. 

He doesn’t want to be a runner. Not anymore. He wants to be a fighter. If not for him, then for his girl.

“Alright. Okay,” Eddie nods.

“That’s not good enough. I need to hear you say it Eddie.”

“I’m gonna fight.”

“You’re gonna what?”

“I’m gonna fight,” Eddie exclaims.

“Who are you gonna fight for Eddie?”

“For Y/N!”

“And?”

“For us!”

“And?”

“And?”

“Who else are you fighting for?”

“Uh, love?”

“No silly,” Michelle pokes harshly at his chest, “You’re fighting for you too.”

----------------------------------------------

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[kookiyu]

I've been rereading from the start for the 28th time and was thinking about the first chapter Namari appears and how strong it is...

We don't know anything about her before now but this exchange she has with Laios is really engaging and tells us a lot about her place in the party and her personality. She and Laios have a shared obsessive fussiness about their particular passions that comes across as really overbearing and offputting to other people... We see throughout the series and in the daydream hour omake chapters that prior to chapter 1 Laios had been hiding his interest in monsters from everyone for a Long Time. He sits on his feelings about things and is a terrible communicator because he's afraid to open his mouth and be completely ostracized by everyone around him, based on his experiences growing up. His silence and passivity usually turns into him being exploited by others (we never learn the exact reason for his desertion but we do know that the caravan he used to work for seemed to treat him especially poorly before Falin showed up.)

Namari, on the other hand, is a huge bitch. She's extremely vocal and opinionated about things and is fearlessly insistent and unashamed of it... Laios sees this part of her and where it comes from and he respects her for it, probably because he looks up to her lack of a filter. The 'undiagnosed autistic person being ruled by shame and self-censoring by just never raising their voice' is a real and common phenomenon and we see it a lot in Laios. His line at the end of the page here and his willingness to face the brunt of her criticism shows how much he appreciates her.

Meanwhile when she listens to Laios and Senshi talk about how to prepare tentacles and sees him expressing himself unfiltered her expression is just raw shame and dread... In the context of the chapter there's definitely the practical element of "oh my god, he's eating the monster that killed Kiki" but the expressiveness in Kui's art conveys a really particular mix of emotions to me and I can only see it as a kind of projected anxiety towards Laios. It's compromising for her; She cares a lot more than she lets on about the Touden party and Laios himself. There's a sense of responsibility for enabling him and a sense of protectiveness, like 'if anyone else finds out what you're doing they're going to treat you worse than you can imagine!' But I think more than anything she's afraid for herself. Namari is a Dwarf's Dwarf. She was exiled because of something her father did and it's haunted her her entire life... Being closely associated with Laios and the rest of the party would mean not only is she associated with a criminal, she's also involved with the psychos who've been eating monsters. That's on top of the fact that seeing someone she cares about behave the same way that she does without any of the defensive reflexes she falls back on to shield herself makes her scared! You can't just be yourself in front of others like that, because they'll always see the worst in you and run with it. She also seems to struggle with her own feelings towards the party, considering how she's not shy about letting other people know she thinks Laios is weird in contrast to how she can't abandon him or the others when they need her... It's great character writing.

There's a brief exchange near the end of the chapter/beginning of the next where she talks about the importance of an adventurer's reputation... Other peoples opinions of her matter a Lot, and reasonably so! She's had an unbelievably hard time of it, being exiled from a culture built around extremely close-knit communities and networks of support for something she didn't do... I think it makes complete sense why her motivations seem completely self-interested on the surface, and it's because she needs to find her people. For as shitty as Mr. Tansu can treat her (the human shield thing is bananas; you get the sense that he wouldn't be doing it if he didn't know he could just revive her after), they're also a really close adoptive family, and they all seem to love her a lot (the twins in particular, for obvious reasons). Wanting to be a part of that makes so much sense for her. I love how dense this chapter is looking back with the full context of the series as a whole... As much as I wish she'd had more scenes with everyone, I'm really happy with what we got anyway. Namari leaves such a strong impression in spite how infrequently she shows up... One of my favs for sure