#arwen makes stuff

[benoitblanc]

THE GOOD PLACE (2016-2020)

THE ETERNAL SHRIEK (1.07) | WHENEVER YOU'RE READY (4.13)

[tathrin]

I was thinking about the weirdness of LaCE and the whole sex=soul-marriage thing again (as you do) and a thought struck me:

what if the way it works in cases of assault (or is believed to work by the elves; in this case it doesn't matter if it's actually what happens of just what they think) is that you don't end up with a full-on bond, no, but you do get bits of connection, like hooks stuck in your soul from the other person(s)?

And—if we run with the worst interpretation of the Celebrían situation—what if that's what motivates Elladan and Elrohir to be so determined to hunt down every single orc in Middle-earth?

If Celebrían left because she couldn't bear the feeling or thought or those orc-hooks in her soul (or the ptsd flashbacks and trauma that made it easy to assume the stories were true, and that's what was happening to cause her misery) and hoped that crossing the Sundering Sea would cut them off, or at least blunt them and let the scars heal...

Well, the twins know that you can't really sail back, of course they do. They know!

But Glorfindel did. And a whole host of elves came once, during the War of Wrath. So it's not that nobody has, ever. (They can look up and see their grandfather sailing in the sky every night, out of the Undying Lands. Maybe somebody could hitch a ride...?)

If they can make Middle-earth safe for her again...well, maybe she won't come home. But at least then she could, if a chance ever came to leave and cross the Sea again. She could.

And even if she doesn't, at least when they Sail*, they can tell her that they slew her nightmares, finally.

And maybe that will be enough.

[dianaladrislovebot]

i’ll never understand how some people come up w this stuff and actually like it

[an-eldritch-peredhel]

*ignoring the paper thrown at me by Tolkien's ghost as I post this* I think that the elf default of the Choice of the Peredhil is stupid and that Arwen (Elladan and Elrohir too, this post just isn't about them) continues to very slowly age up until she makes her final choice once and for all, so by the events of LotR she looks somewhere between late-20s to early-40s. She's gorgeous and elfly-ethereal and she has laugh lines and grey hairs and her neck hurts when she sleeps on it wrong. In this essay I will-

[thasdorah]

looking at my muses and trying to make sense of the outliers (the 3 who aren't elves and don't choose elf forms and were not elves at any point in their lives)

[v-thinks-on]

Rewatching The Lord of the Rings, I see they tried to solve the problem of the absolute lack of major female characters by giving more screen time to Aragorn's romances which.... doesn't really solve the problem of the women being irrelevant, it just pads out the plot even more... (Though I do appreciate Arwen being the one to take Frodo to Rivendell) Really they should have just made some of the main characters women, but of course that wasn't going to happen in 2000 when the films were made.

Between that and most of the male elves (all except Legolas, really) not being pretty enough (sorry Elrond), I've concluded the optimal solution is to have all the elves be played by women, and for Gimli to actually be a female dwarf, since he did mention that humans can't tell male and female dwarves apart. The rest of the cast is more of a toss-up, I feel like a female Aragorn would be a nice subversion, and which of the hobbits to make female (all but one?) is a question for the ages...

[blinday]

Sweetie, just because you have a shitty perception of men doesn't mean all women have too. The same goes for men. You just read something from someone who thinks in a certain way. Grow the fuck up.

i know it’s been discussed and analysed before but I’m really beginning to think that straight romance written by women, especially when it is from or includes the man’s point of view, is bad for girls and women. it’s bad if they’re unable to recognise it as unrealistic and simply a form of escapism, because if they don’t realise that (which i think many dont) they are being groomed and set up for huge disappointment when they do date men. it also causes them to humanise men and project humanity into their words and actions that isn’t there because they’ve been made to believe he has a deep and complex emotional mind, or that he’s thinking beautiful tender poetic thoughts about her but just has trouble expressing them etc. when really mens thoughts abt women are more realistically mentally undressing her and wishing she’d stop talking. if you listen to how men describe women and compare it to how fictional men written by women describe women … night and day difference

[colleendoran]

LEGENDS OF THE QUENDI

Private commission, from The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien.

Pen and ink, watercolor, 24 K gold.

Gandalf/Olorin, Cirdan, Celembribor, Gil Galad, Melian, Galadriel, Elrond, Arwen, The Elven Rings, The Elessar, and a symbolic Belt of Melian.

No, I'm not playing hooky on Good Omens, I get about 20 minutes a day to work on other stuff.

I was getting a half hour a day, but even that's too much at this point.

And yes, at roughly 25 minutes a day, a piece like this takes a really long time. Months.

I'm a big believer in making sure you pick at something else even while working on a big project, even if you only use that time for warm ups. Keeps you from crumbling under the weight of the main project.

[mushroomates]

the fellowship grocery shopping (modern au!):

frodo: has a list which he always loses halfway through shopping. tries to bring his own bags but they’re never enough, or he forgets them in the car and realizes mid checkout. does not like a lot of the name brand foods, goes for the knock offs- partly because he thinks they taste better and partly because he’s rooting for the underdog. (also they’re cheaper which means more money go towards buying treats for the neighborhood cats.) makes an exception for name brand strawberry poptarts, a pippin favorite. keeps his fridge stocked with snacks for his friends.

sam: grows a lot of his own produce and makes an effort to shop local. has his own chickens and a thriving herb garden. he often trades with neighbors-tomatoes for honey, basil for goats milk, etc. once a month he teams up with boromir and goes to costco for insane amounts of flour (he bakes his own bread) and a foot long hotdog. sam refuses to get his own membership.

merry: has a list of things to get that he has worked very hard to compile. this list stays on fridge, and whenever he runs out of something he adds it. this is always sabotaged by pippin who, in a port attempt to mimic merry’s handwriting, adds a copious amount of sweets and things only pippin likes. ends up buying them anyways only to not share with him- will gloat by snacking in front of pippin and not offering any to his cousin.

pippin: does not actually grocery shop. yes, he has food in his house but this is more because he just tags along whenever someone else is going. selectively copies whatever they get into his own basket. has eight jars of peanut butter because he loves peanut butter but does not consume it at the rate he believes he does. also for backup, incase he runs out mid sandwich and needs eight jars of the stuff. loves to ride in the shopping carts when no one’s watching. definitely scooters along isles. loves to hijack boromir’s shopping trips as boromir is the only one who will push him in the cart and give him a lil treat at the end.

gandalf: kind of just. wanders around the store. gets lost in the bakery. buys the most random things, causing the clerks to conspire about what he’s doing with two packs of rubber gloves, a rosterseie chicken, and a tub of mayonnaise. is he a murderer? a professor? a single mother? what is he doing with this stuff?

aragorn: does a lot of trading with neighbors, like sam. likes to accompany arwen on errands and do the little things. she points at an item and he puts it in the basket. he bags at checkout. drives her home. unloads the car and put it away. real quality time and acts of service. yes, arwen is capable of doing these things herself, but he likes to do it for her: hunts so be always has a surplus of jerky, does need to buy more salt then the typical person.

boromir: also hunts. has a thing about using every part of the animal, will eat bone marrow straight out of the femur with a spoon for breakfast. eats a lot of protein. is real big about no food waste and will use everything he can. has his own compost bin and a humble herb garden. likes hosting barbecues for everyone, and makes the burgers and hotdogs from scratch. every other tuesday is grocery day. he goes to costco and buys his things in bulk. he’s the only one in the fellowship with a costco card and everyone loves to take advantage of it.

legolas: mainly just happens upon farmers markets and grabs what appeals to him in the moment. does not have any seasonings or cooking oil as it’s not something that’s ever really occurred to him to buy. will forget he has food in his fridge for weeks and when he finally does it’s gone bad. this, however, does not stop him from eating it. makes a lot of smoothies.

gimli: has a lot of preserved foods and a cupboard dedicated to emergencies. owns a lot of canned beans, fruits and vegetables- anything that will keep well. has a freezer filled with food in his garage with backup stock. is a very good with coupons- pippin likes going with him just to see the total (and the clerks jaw) drop. eats a lot of trail mix and jerky. enjoys fresh fruit when he can but doesn’t like to buy it because it doesn’t last.

gollum: sneaky little man. he hides in the bottom part of the carts meant for heavy items and parties his way across the store with his hands, scooting along tile and grabbing anything with reach, tossing it back up to the cart and continuing on his journey. then he just rolls right out the door. no one can stop him.

[velvet4510]

The thing about Éowyn giving up being a shieldmaiden is that those who complain about it are entirely missing the point.

What she truly wants is not to specifically fight and kill and kick ass in battle. All those things are representations of her actual desire: to be recognized.

She is constantly being cast aside and forced into the corner and left behind, and she wants to actually leave an impactful mark, a legacy, which the society of Rohan will not permit her to create. She directly tells Aragorn that she wants to do great deeds, and she is most afraid of losing her chance to do anything meaningful with massive ripple effects. She has the very human and very relatable need to be seen and noticed and remembered.

She sees all these warriors achieving glory and becoming the subjects of songs on the battlefield, so she thinks that’s her only way. And she fears that once the war is over, there will be no other way, that it will all go back to the way it was for her.

Then by the end, she learns that’s not true. She can do great deeds and achieve recognition post-war, and she does.

She becomes the Princess of Ithilien, a land decimated by war which means she and Faramir essentially get to start from scratch in rebuilding the land and the society. As Faramir’s equal partner, it is up to her, as much as it is up to him, to make the land beautiful again, to decide how it should be run, to shape it into a thriving place, to eventually mentor the next generation to take proper care of it all. She can introduce horses to the land and teach people to ride. She can teach self-defense because everyone needs to know that kind of stuff. She can do so many things and make so many major decisions for the benefit of so many people who look up to her and need her.

And above all, Éowyn can shape Ithilien to be what Rohan never was to her: a place where all women are seen and heard and respected.

And the best part is, she gets all the freedom and makes all the impact that she has always dreamed of, and yet she doesn’t have to deal with any of her responsibilities alone. While before she had no support in being Théoden’s nurse, and dealt with it all by herself, now she is surrounded by love and encouragement. She’s got Faramir there to always hold her hand. She’s got supportive friends in Aragorn, Arwen, and Merry.

Éowyn giving up being a shieldmaiden and warrior is not the equivalent of abandoning her dream; it is the equivalent of achieving her dream.

[benoitblanc]

msr + textposts, pt. 5

[overthinkinglotr]

I was watching LOTR with friends the other day and someone pointed out that a major reason film!Elrond is upset about Arwen being in love with Aragorn is because of Elrond's own broken relationship with Isildur.

In the films Isildur and Elrond are kind of set up as....a broken failed parallel to Aragorn and Arwen?

Arwen reassures Aragorn that "he is Isildur's heir, not Isildur himself," and "is not bound to his fate"-- but Elrond disagrees, confident that Aragorn will be just like Isildur.

Film!Elrond is so certain that trusting in mankind is a mistake that will only lead Arwen to misery because he once trusted in mankind, and the man he trusted ended up failing him. His ally from the line of Elendil ended up falling to the power of the Ring and dying; he believes Aragorn may do the same thing. He doesn't just want to save Arwen's life and keep his daughter by his side; he wants to prevent Arwen from experiencing the same betrayal/heartbreak he experienced. Film!Elrond is very stoic and unsentimental, but there are all these hints at Elrond and Isildur's past relationship throughout the series. Everyone likes to make the joke "why didn't Elrond just toss Isildur into the fire?" but to me the answer is, partially, because he cared about Isildur. They were allies who fought side-by-side. After describing what happened in Mount Doom all those years ago, Elrond tells Gandalf that "It should've ended that day, but evil was allowed to endure." And I think it's interesting that he goes into passive voice for a moment, instead of saying that Isildur specifically allowed to evil to endure--because he's also blaming himself for allowing evil to endure, blaming his own failure to be harsh with Isildur and take the Ring from him by force. He's regretting that he was merciful and didn't "just toss Isildur into the fire."

His complicated emotions about Isildur also appear again in the Two Towers. After insisting that Arwen needs to give up Aragorn as a lost cause and travel into the West, Elrond has a conversation with Galadriel where she guilt-trips him for abandoning Middle Earth/mankind. When she asks him "do we let them stand alone?" Elrond walks into the study, and spends a long moment looking at his mural of Isildur.

He then, in the film's canon, agrees to send military support to one of Isildur's descendants."I don't care about Isildur anymore, men are weak," Elrond says, standing in front of his elaborate mural of Isildur and his shrine dedicated to Isildur's sword.

And yes this is all, again, a drastic departure from his characterization in the book-- most of the Aragorn-Arwen-Elrond stuff in the films is a drastic departure from the book. The films radically alter their dynamics, including eliminating stuff like Elrond being Aragorn's adopted father and all the "their bloodlines are related" stuff and etc etc etc etc etc. But honestly, now that I see it, this interpretation makes the film!Elrond-Arwen dynamic engaging in a way I hadn't recognized before? In some ways it puts Isildur into the role that Elrond's mortal brother Elros played for him in the books, because Elros is cut from the films entirely. Isildur is the reason film!Elrond knows what it's like to have some kind of close relationship with a mortal and then watch them die. When Elrond angrily speaks about the folly of trusting men, or insists to Arwen that Aragorn "is not coming back" so she should just get over him, he's speaking from experience--he's projecting his own weird failed broken betrayal-ridden Thing with Isildur onto Arwen and Aragorn. And in this context, his hopeless monologue about how Arwen will regret staying by Aragorn's side also feels like it's partially from his own experience. "If Sauron is defeated, and Aragorn is made king, and all that you hope for comes true, you will still have to taste the bitterness of mortality." When he fought three thousand years ago Sauron was defeated, and Isildur did become King, and yet... TL;DR : Film!Elrond had a nasty kind-of breakup with a mortal man 3000 years ago and instead of dealing with it he decided "Men Are trash Weak" and began projecting all of his drama onto Arwen

[shirefantasies]

Ok, so like the elves’ spice tolerances from 0 to 10 (doubt they have good spice tolerance because they’re white af but still) (do they even have spices in Middle Earth)

I'm DEAD this is so random but so funny I love this uhhhh let's see

Legolas- Probably higher than average because he's pretty strong & has a very high tolerance for alcohol & other things. Claims that yes, he can feel a bit of a tingle, but it is exhilarating is it not? Extra hearty so solid 7-8 here.

Elrond- Can eat spicy stuff but doesn’t like it. Avoids it if he can and complains a bit/raises his eyebrows at it. Asks Lindir to let the chefs know this exotic stuff wasn't really it. 5.

Arwen- Sees it as a challenge especially if someone assumes she can’t. Goes beyond her tolerance level sometimes but doesn't show it until the other party turns their back, then she lets the tears flow. 7.

Haldir- Acts like he can handle it, waves his hands and carries on when he tries. Not quite full 'ketchup is spicy' but definitely the type to get incensed over an excess of heat AKA anything beyond mild. 3-4.

Lindir- Terrified when it is presented to him, all but shaking as he raises it to his mouth...only to find that it's not that bad, here try some everyone! Cue everyone else dying, this man with his snobby taste somehow just downed a ton of habanero sauce like a king and made some comment about finally enjoying foreign food. Surprise 9.

Galadriel- An absolute badass are you kidding. 10/10 no questions she makes the others look like babies. Would win hot ones or whatever I've never seen the show. Pain is nothing to this queen, she just smiles that gorgeous smile and laughs at the others' reactions as if she was given a bonbon.

Thranduil- Threatens anyone who questions his 'allergy' to spice as weakness, literally getting in their face and whispering a threat that shakes them to their core. If cornered would claim geographic tongue. Solid 3, vinegar is practically too much for the guy, all he can handle is the faint 'burn' of alcohol.

lmao we love our white bois & girls 💀😂

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Full article: here.

This connects with the Elrond = Sauron theory, here and here.

Melian of the Valar and Anger Issues:

In his interview to Decider, explaining the kiss, Robert Aramayo also talks about this:

Specifically, Adar namedrops Melian, one of Elrond’s most important ancestors. Aramayo explained how hearing this father of the orcs talk so intimately about Melian was meant to perfectly unsettle the young(er) elf. “It shows a real deep understanding for the history of Middle-Earth. You know, there’s something about Melian, isn’t there? The ‘Girdle of Melian,’ the sort of the protective sphere that she [creates], the power of her, and what she sort of represents in the lore and stuff,” Aramayo said. “So it’s impressive that he would bring it up in that moment.”

Why is this strange? Firstly, Elrond and his future daughter Arwen never get compared to Melian herself in the lore, but rather to her Half-Maia daughter, Lúthien (Arwen is pretty much described as “Lúthien 2.0.”, and even her love story with Aragorn is Lúthien x Beren, part 2).

According to Rob, the mention of Melian by Adar is what triggers his anger, and what causes Elrond to act OOC in that scene. Which doesn't make any sense, because Elrond would be proud and honored by such a comparison, actually (and it has nothing to do with his beauty).

The only character who would get this triggered by the mention of Melian is Sauron himself, because:

1) His fellow Maia was a thorn in his side (and Morgoth's) for pretty much the entire First Age and the War of Wrath;

Beyond lay the wilderness of Dungortheb, where the sorcery of Sauron and the power of Melian came together, and horror and madness walked. Of Beren and Lúthien, Part I

2) Melian's daughter (Lúthien) was responsible for Sauron's most humiliating and spectacular defeat by bringing Huan (the Hound of Valinor), with her to Tol-in-Gaurhoth (Isle of Werewolves, where Finrod, Galadriel's brother, died protecting Beren from the werewolves). This is when Sauron shapeshifts into a giant werewolf to fight Huan, and gets defeated.

Halbrand/Mairon: Whose dagger was it, Galadriel? Who is it you lost? Galadriel: My brother. Halbrand/Mairon: What happened to him? Galadriel: He was killed. In a place of darkness and despair [Tol-in-Gaurhoth]. By servants of Sauron [werewolves]. Is that enough for you? Galadriel tells Halbrand about her brother’s, Finrod, death, 1x05 

(Sorry not sorry, I had to). 

In the lore, Sauron disappears for a very long time after this defeat, and “Rings of Power” already mentioned how he was tortured beyond belief by Morgoth (this implies that, after losing a strategic stronghold to “a girl and her dog”, Sauron most likely was imprisoned and tortured by Morgoth somewhere). 

Lúthien/Beren parallel:

The "tent/kiss scene" itself, in 2x07, is a parallel to Beren and Lúthien, and the quest to retrieve one Silmaril from Morgoth’s crown, which would lead to their fight with Sauron (and Finrod’s death later on):

But Thingol looked in silence upon Lúthien; and he thought in his heart: 'Unhappy Men, children of little lords and brief kings, shall such as these lay hands on you, and yet live?' Then breaking the silence he said: 'I see the ring, son of Barahir, and I perceive that you are proud, and deem yourself mighty. But a father's deeds, even had his service been rendered to me, avail not to win the the daughter of Thingol and Melian. See now! I too desire a treasure that is withheld. For rock and steel and the fires of Morgoth keep the jewel that I would possess against all the powers of the Elf-kingdoms. Yet I hear you say that bonds such as these do not daunt you. Go your way therefore! Bring to me in your hand a Silmaril from Morgoth's crown; and then, if she will, Lúthien may set her hand in yours. Then you shall have my jewel; and though the fate of Arda lie within the Silmarils, yet you shall hold me generous.' Thus he wrought the doom of Doriath, and was ensnared within the curse of Mandos. And those that heard these words perceived that Thingol would save his oath, and yet send Beren to his death; for they know that not all the power of the Noldor, before the Siege was broken, had availed even to see from afar the shining Silmarils of Fëanor. For they were set in the Iron Crown, and treasured in Angband above all wealth; and Balrogs were about them, and countless swords, and strong bars, and unassailable walls, and the dark majesty of Morgoth. But Beren laughed. 'For little price,' he said, 'do Elven-kings sell their daughters: for gems, and things made by craft. But if this be your will, Thingol, I will perform it. And when we meet again my hand shall hold a Silmaril from the Iron Crown; for you have not looked the last upon Beren son of Barahir.' Then he looked in the eyes of Melian, who spoke not; and he bade farewell to Lúthien Tinuviel, and bowing before Thingol and Melian he put aside the guards about him, and departed from Menegroth alone. Of Beren and Lúthien, Part I

Here, "Thingol" is Adar, who presents "Elrond" (Beren) with the choice of handing over the Silmaril (Nenya) in exchange for Lúthien (Galadriel): "The Ring for Galadriel's life. What is it to be?"

Which means, the comparison with Melian is odd ("You [Elrond] have the beauty of your foremother, Melian of the Valar"), because there is no direct parallel between Elrond/Melian happening here.

Then, why is Elrond parallelling Beren in this scene? He’s a Half-Elf who decided to retain his immortality (Half-Elves get to do that, and that’s why Arwen chooses mortality to be with Aragorn). He’s not a mortal man like Beren, nor is he in love with an she-Elf of legendary beauty and power.

There is another character who can make sense in this context, and that’s Halbrand (Sauron’s human form). Mostly now that the executive producers of the show, Charlotte Brändström, revealed that Galadriel was in love with Halbrand (direct parallel with Lúthien x Beren).  

Morgoth’s crown is also nearby (we know that Adar not only has it, but actually show it to Galadriel in this very tent, in 2x06), and the Balrog is also there (at the mines of Moria, in Khazad-dûm).

Interestingly enough, Sauron is the one who mentions Beren in Season 2 of “Rings of Power” (and he must have been dying inside talking about it): 

Yes. You are right. Of course. Men are capable of great frailty. But when the darkness falls, there are always some who rise forth and shine. Eärendil, Tuor, Beren, son of Barahir. Sauron/Annatar tries to persuade Celebrimbor to forge the Nine rings of power, 2x05

And the plot thickens because Eärendil is Elrond’s father, and son of Tuor (Elrond’s grandfather who married Elwing, Lúthien and Beren’s granddaughter). “Rings of Power” Season 2 pretty much went through all of Elrond’s genealogy, in scenes with Sauron and Adar.

After Beren and Lúthien rescued a Silmaril from Morgoth's Iron Crown, this was later given to their descendant Elwing, wife of Eärendil. Both took it to Aman, and the Valar decided to rise it as a new star. In a vessel appointed by Elbereth, Eärendil rose in the horizon as a sign of hope for Elves and Men. And this is the light that shines in both Galadriel’s mirror and the Phial of Galadriel (which she gives to Frodo to help him in his quest to destroy the One Ring = Sauron).

And to further strength the parallel between Nenya/Silmaril in the “tent scene” of 2x07, the fate of Fëanor’s Silmarils is also connected to the Three Elven rings of power: 

“Fire” = Maedhros threw himself into a fissure of fire in the earth, carrying his Silmaril with him. “Narya” is the “Ring of Fire”, and its current ring-bearer is Círdan (but it will pass onto Gandalf, later). 

“Air”: connects to Eärendil becoming a star in the skies. “Vilya” is the “Ring of Air”, and even though, his current ring-bearer is Gil-galad, it will belong to Eärendil’s heir: Elrond.

“Water”. Maglor casted his Silmaril into the sea, and wandered along the shores of the world singing laments over the loss of the Silmaril. “Nenya” is the “Ring of Water”, and will be forever held by Galadriel, herself. In time, she’ll, too, suffer with “sea longing” (which many assume it’s only the desire to return to Valinor, but there might be more to it). Like Maglor, she’s also known for singing laments (“Namárië”, also called “Galadriel's Lament”).

In “Rings of Power”, Galadriel met Halbrand (the “mortal man” she fell in love with) in the middle of the sea.

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 35

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 34

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Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, mentions of smut, smoking, alcohol use, drunk driving, small argument, crying, angst, heartbreak

Word Count: 7.7k

divider by @strangergraphics

Part 35: Wicked Game

Sunday, September 24th, 1989

"Sugarpuff? It's Eddie on the phone again." Mom says through your bedroom door on Sunday morning.

"Just hang up." You manage to say, just loud enough for her to hear. The sound of her footsteps descends back down the hallway, and the phone is placed on the hook without another word. You let out a long sigh, oddly relieved to know Eddie can't get another syllable out.

You haven't slept a wink all night, constantly tossing and turning in your bed while thoughts race through your mind. Thoughts of Eddie's lips on Chrissy's, of how angry and heartbroken it made you feel. Still makes you feel. Every time that image flashes across your mind, you get the intense urge to scream into your pillow. An urge you've entertained a few times, once you were sure it wouldn't make too much noise.

Eddie's called three times in the last couple of hours, all of which you've ignored in one way or another. The first time served as an alarm clock for your mother, forcing her out of bed. You knew exactly who was calling so early, not bothering to move a muscle. You can picture the scene back at the apartment. Eddie, disheveled and sweating in his clothes from the party, having cried all night over you. Broken glass and spilled wine still lay on the floor, as he can't focus on cleaning up any other mess than the one he's made by lying to you. Arwen is no doubt snuggled in his lap as he cradles the phone, frantically dialing your number over and over, before changing his mind.

"I'm making omelets, Y/N. Do you want me to make you one?" Mom asks through the door, still leaving you alone to your thoughts.

"Okay." You call back, forcing the volume despite your vocal chords begging you not to. You feel absolutely awful from lack of sleep, and too much wine, and all this damn crying you can't seem to stop doing. You roll onto your back, staring at the ceiling. If it weren't for your heart being shattered into a million tiny pieces, you'd probably feel completely numb right now. But you swear you can sense the shards worming their way through your chest, lodging in your ribs and muscles on their way out. Everything hurts. You spend so much time fixating on the pain, that you don't even register the next twenty minutes passing until Mom brings you your breakfast.

"It's hot and ready, sweetie." She says, knocking first before opening the door. She brings in a tray to set on your lap, and you take the cue to sit up against the headboard. You keep the blanket tucked beneath your underarms to cover yourself, avoiding her eyes for the time being. "Here you go. Do you need anything else?" She asks sweetly, though the unbelievably blank look on your face quickly sours her on the inside.

"No. Thanks, Mom." You rasp, reaching for the glass of orange juice she's brought you to wet your mouth that feels like sandpaper.

"Okay. Well, just let me know. And I left the phone off the hook. That ought to stop the calls for a while." Mom says, going for the door. You just nod at her words, glancing down at your plate.

Bright yellow egg formed in a perfect half circle smiles back at you on the white ceramic. Steam rises from it, carrying the scent of shredded cheese, mushrooms, and peppers. Your favorite fillings. Nothing about it is particularly appetizing to you, however. The mere thought of putting a single bite into your mouth makes you want to barf. But at the same time, your abdomen cramps up as it begs to be filled with something.

"Ugh." You groan in disgust, picking up your knife and fork. You cut into the fluffy folded disk, melty cheese oozing out of the exposed seams. The sight makes you gag, but you bring the bite to your lips anyway. You force your mouth open, and slide the piece off of your fork with the very tips of your teeth. You carefully bring the food back towards your tongue, allowing it to touch your taste buds after this painstaking process. When you don't immediately projectile vomit all over the bed, you allow yourself to start chewing. You're able to register the flavors you usually enjoy so much, but it all feels...wrong. Like someone made a photocopy of your breakfast, and served that to you instead of the original.

You compel every last bite of the omelet down your throat, putting the empty tray to the side once you're finished. Your stomach stops hurting, and you feel slightly less sick than before. You decide to finally get out of bed, it doesn't help any to lay here feeling sorry for yourself. Besides, you've got a couple assignments to work on. That ought to clear your head for a little bit. You get out from under the covers, going for your suitcase to find some clean clothes. You open the zipper, pulling out a t-shirt, jeans and some underwear. You wish you'd had the forethought to pack some pajamas, but your mind was far more focused on yelling at Eddie. You put the clothing on, and trudge down the hall to the living room where your school things were placed last night. Mom gives you a shocked look, quickly replaced by a relieved smile to see you out of bed.

"How are you feeling, sugarpuff?" She asks, taking a sip of her second cup of coffee.

"A little better. Shit, I'd meant to bring the tray back." You say abruptly, about to turn back to get it.

"It's alright, Y/N. I'll get it for you." She insists.

"Thanks." You reply as you sit on the couch, pulling the coffee table closer to open your textbooks.

"What's your plan for today?" She asks, though she assumes you probably want to be alone. It's very much within your nature to close yourself off to everyone while you're going through something like this. Of course, she wants you to talk to her about anything and everything. But she doesn't want to push you, either. You'll open up, when you're ready.

"This. I've got a couple things due tomorrow." You say, gesturing at the books without looking up.

"Okay, that sounds good. I'll be around if you need anything." She says, leaving you to your work. She retrieves the tray from your room, putting the dishes in the sink to be washed.

The words on the pages of your trigonometry textbook blur and scramble the more you try to focus on them. And your mother making noise in the kitchen isn't exactly helping. You tap your pencil incessantly on the fresh sheet of your notebook, struggling to untangle the equations you're meant to solve. You stare and stare and stare at the numbers and symbols, finding nothing but absolute gibberish. You're growing frustrated, wanting to tear the damn thing to pieces in retaliation. But what good would that do? You'd be completely fucked on your assignment, and out a good chunk of cash on the book itself. You snatch up one of the throw pillows from the couch, shoving your face deep into its plush surface to muffle the loud, guttural sound that begs to leave your lungs. You need assistance, someone to read the pages to you, something. You only hope the person you plan to call is able to help you. You go for the phone, still sitting off the hook. You put the receiver to your ear, and punch in the numbers like your life depends on it.

"Hello?" Robin's voice comes through.

Thank fuck, you think to yourself. "Hey, Rob." You respond.

"Oh, hey, Y/N. Are you doing okay?" She asks, worried by the rather breathless sound of your voice.

"I'm alive." You say dryly. "Are you able to come over? I'm trying to get my assignments done, but I...I can't read anything." You explain, though you realize your problem sounds rather vague over the phone.

"Sure thing. I'll be right over." Robin chirps, not questioning you whatsoever.

"Thanks, Rob. You're a lifesaver." You sigh in relief, allowing a small smile to creep across your lips.

"Of course, Y/N. See ya in a bit."

"Yep." You press the spring-loaded button to end the call, putting the headset back down on the table. Now all you have to do is wait a few minutes, and you'll have the help you need. You only hope Robin won't bring up Eddie while she's here. You can't allow yourself to even think about him right now, because it'll only derail you further.

A little bit later, the doorbell rings. You get up to answer the door, finding Robin on the other side. She immediately takes you in her arms for a hug, squeezing you tight. "Hey, Robin." You squeak, suffocating in her grip.

"How've you been doing?" She asks, letting you out of her grasp so you can breathe.

"Fuckin' terrible." You huff, leading her over to the couch. "But I don't want to talk about that right now. I'm not letting my grades slip because of that..." You trail off, stopping yourself from calling Eddie such a mean name.

"Asshole?" Robin says it for you, completely understanding where you're coming from. You just nod in reply, feeling guilty for agreeing. "It's okay to say what you feel, Y/N. It's better than keeping it all inside." Robin says kindly, taking a seat next to you and looking over the books you've got open. Civics and trigonometry.

"No, I know. I just don't want to unpack all that right now. I've been up all night thinking about it...about them." You pick at your fingers as you speak, swallowing hard at the thought of those two getting 'friendly' again.

"That's okay. Let's focus on your homework instead. Deal?" Robin offers with a smile.

"Deal." You smile back, and move on to the equations. Robin reads them out to you slowly and carefully, and you write them out in your notebook. Thankfully it reads properly coming from your own hand, leaving you able to solve them all in minutes. Next is the short paragraph questions for civics, which are once again a breeze when Robin's friendly rasp verbalizes them for you.

"Well, shit. That was easy. You sure you needed me for this?" Robin asks with a laugh, surprised at your quick mind and immense intellect. She's heard Eddie call you a bookworm before, but it's only now that she sees how true that nickname rings for you.

"Believe me, I did. The damn words kept moving all over the place, I couldn't make sense of anything." You insist, giggling lightly yourself. "Thank you for helping me, Rob. It means a lot." You put your hand over hers in gratitude.

"Please, any time. You have anything else planned for today?" She asks.

"Not a thing, except wallowing in self pity. But I'm not due for that until five." You joke, but Robin doesn't laugh. "Sorry." You sigh.

"No, it's fine. Humor is a common coping mechanism." She reassures you.

"I aced psychology, Robin. I'm well aware." You snort bitterly. You don't mean to be so moody, but you can't help it.

"I'll let the bitchiness slide since you're in pain. But I was gonna suggest we go shopping to take your mind off things." Robin offers, and it sounds like the best idea you've heard in weeks.

"I'm sorry, I know you're just trying to help. And shopping sounds amazing right now." You fix your tone, and your face, trying to cheer up a little for her sake. You doubt she wants to be around a total sad sack all day.

"Let's get a move on, then. Retail therapy awaits!" Robin exclaims, pulling you off the couch. You grab your purse and slip some shoes on as you head out the door. You call to Mom to say you're going out for a while, and she tells you to be safe in response.

Robin drives the both of you downtown, parking on the curb outside Waxed Out Records. You step out of the car, heading into the store together. You browse the aisles, though you're not really sure if there's anything here that'll catch your eye. If you're being honest, everything in here just reminds you of Eddie. The two of you made semi-regular trips here, usually picking up a new metal album for Eddie's collection. And every glimpse you catch of an Ozzy or Vixen album reminds you of his birthday, one of your best days. You made one of his biggest dreams come true, and the night you shared at that cheap hotel afterwards was easily one of your greatest.

"You okay?" Robin asks as she sees you wistfully flicking through records in the heavy metal section. Maybe a music store wasn't the best idea, given how interlaced it's become in your now-jeopardized relationship.

"Hm?" You hum, snapping out of your trance. You turn to meet Robin's eyes, a single tear falling down your cheek. You force a smile and quickly wipe it away. "Oh, yeah! I'm fine." You say, sniffing harshly to keep your nose from dripping.

"Should we go somewhere else?" She offers, realizing that this was probably the last place she should've brought you.

"Please." You punch out the word, trying to stop your lip from trembling.

She leads you out of the store, looking up and down the block for a different destination. But she has no idea where to go, she's sure every damn place in town has some stain of Eddie fucking Munson on it. "Maybe this was a bad idea. I'm sorry." She sighs, giving up on this plan altogether. She leans against the side of her car, and you do as well.

"It's not your fault. I thought I could handle it. But everywhere I look, I just see him." You sniffle again, and Robin puts her arm around you.

"It's alright, Y/N. It hasn't even been an entire day yet, I wouldn't expect you to be fine right away. I'd probably be freaked out if you were." She says with a light laugh, drawing one from you as well. "How 'bout this, we go to the BigBuy and get some tubs of ice cream, and pick up a few chick flicks from Family Video. We can stuff our faces and forget all about him for a while."

"That sounds like a much better plan." You smile. "Can we call Nancy, too? I need both my girls." You pout playfully.

"Hell yeah, we can!" She cheers, nudging you to get back in the car to set your plan into motion. You and Robin make your short stops at the supermarket and the video store, picking up a couple bottles of wine as well to pair with the ice cream. You walk back into your house less than an hour after you'd left, finding mom sitting on the couch watching TV.

"That was fast." Mom says, wondering why you're back so soon.

"Yeah, the shopping trip was a bust. But we're gonna have a girls night with ice cream and sappy movies instead. Care to join us, Ms. Henderson?" Robin offers, holding up the wine you've purchased.

"Please, call me Claudia. And I'd love to, if that's alright with you, Y/N." Mom replies, more than happy to spend some quality time with you and your friends.

"Of course it is, Mom. I need you just as much as I need Rob and Nance right now." You say sweetly.

"Perfect! I'll make popcorn and pizza rolls." Mom chuckles, getting up from her spot to get started on the snacks. Robin makes a quick call to Nancy's home. Thankfully, Nancy has been dying for some girl time, and is all caught up on her work at The Post for the week. She hurries over, bearing sleeping bags and extra pajamas to make this a full-blown slumber party.

You and Robin change into the pj's to get comfortable, and help Nancy lay out the sleeping bags and some pillows and blankets to make the floor a giant pile of comfort and softness. Mom stays on the couch, though, since she's getting a bit old to sit on the floor. By the time you've got the first movie in the VCR and have your snacks laid out, you've completely forgotten all about the horrible things that occurred last night.

The four of you laugh and cry your way through Pretty in Pink, St. Elmo's Fire, and Dirty Dancing. Popcorn is playfully tossed at one another, and wine flows into your glasses liberally. Mom doesn't have any, but you don't blame her. It seems she's chosen the sober life after her run-in with the law. When you're part way through your fourth film of the night, the time closing in around 11pm, you hear the screech of tires in the driveway, and the unmistakable crash of a rear-ending taking place outside.

"What the fuck?" You gasp in surprise at the noise. You, Nancy, and Robin go to the front window to take a peek outside. You find Eddie's van pressed into the end of Nancy's car, broken shards of head and tail lights littering the ground. "Jesus christ." You groan, wondering what the hell he's doing here. You stomp towards the front door, ready to go out there and give him a piece of your mind.

"Y/N, wait. You sure you wanna go out there?" Robin asks, stopping you in your tracks.

"I kinda have to, don't I? I can at least tell him to go away." You sigh, grabbing hold of the door handle. You yank it open, and step outside to get a closer look at the damage. It's minimal, just the broken lights and a couple small dents and scratches. "Eddie! What the fuck are you doing?" You shout to him, noticing he's still in the driver's seat. The window is down however, and his head swivels lazily to look at you.

"Heeeeeey, sweetheart!" He slurs, smiling drunkenly. Great, he's fucking wasted. He struggles to open the driver's side door, and almost falls onto the ground when it finally swings outward. He plants his feet, and ambles his way around the van to come over to you.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" You ask with crossed arms. You notice that he's still dressed in his clothes from last night, wrinkled and soaked with sweat. And he absolutely reeks of whiskey.

"I-I came here to see youuuuu, babydoll." He laughs, trying to reach a finger forward to poke your chest. He misses by a mile, hitting the empty space to your left.

"Eddie, you're drunk. You really shouldn't have driven here." You say with a sigh. He's a total mess, he's probably been like this all day.

"But I haaaaad to see you, sweetheart. I had to tell you howwww sorry I am." He continues to slur his words, hiccuping a few times as he speaks.

"I told you I need time to think things over. That means leaving me alone." You reply sternly. "Look, I'll call Steve to come pick you up, alright? I can't let you drive home like this." You turn around to go inside and make the call, but you feel Eddie's sweaty hand close on your arm. He swings you back around to meet his gaze, his eyes dilated and glassy.

"Y/N, pleeeease. I love you, baby. I need you. Arrrrwen needs you. Just come home." He begs, putting his hands on your shoulders. His booze-soaked breath fans in your face, and his words feel like a blow to your heart. You know he's hurting as much as you are, but this isn't helping. You need him to go away, he's only making things worse.

"Eddie, please stop. I can't have any kind of conversation with you like this. You're making a fool of yourself." You say sadly, avoiding his eyes. You can't bear to look at him like this, it's honestly embarrassing.

"I'm making a fool of myself? Riiiight." Eddie scoffs, backing away from you now. His brow furrows, his tone becoming aggressive. "Like you didn't leave me in front of all our friends. Aaaaand for what? 'Cuz I fucked Chrissy? Biiiiiig whoop!" He throws his hands in the air clumsily, they slap against his sides once they come back down. You get a very strong urge to slap him for saying these things, but you know better than to hit him.

"Everything okay out here, Y/N?" Robin asks from the doorway. Nancy and Mom are with her too, waiting to intervene if things get uglier than they already are.

"Yeah. Can you call Steve to come get Eddie? He needs a ride home." You call back.

"I don't need anything!" Eddie shouts, making you cringe. You really hope none of your neighbors hear any of this. He stumbles for you again, taking hold of your chin. "Except for this pretty mouth of yours on my dick." He chuckles dumbly, his inhibitions and self-awareness eroded away by all the alcohol he's consumed.

"Jesus christ, Eddie! Just stop it!" You shout in disgust, swatting his hand away. This...thing in front of you isn't your boyfriend. It's a sad, hurt man that's drowned his sorrows in massive quantities of liquor. He doesn't know what he's saying. He doesn't know how much he's hurting you with his careless actions.

"Oh...oh, no." Eddie gasps in realization, bringing his hand to his mouth. "I'm sorry, princess. I-I didn't mean any of that." He continues, his features falling into sadness. It appears a sliver of clarity has made its way through, if only for a moment. He tries to reach for you again. To apologize, to shower you with kisses, who knows. But you back away from him, shaking your head as you start to cry again. You can't do this, you can't deal with him right now. "Y/N, please. I'm sorry. I just miss you so much...I love you, I need you. It's killing me to be without you." He keeps going, breaking down just like he did last night. He falls to the ground before you, sobbing loudly. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry...sorry..." He folds over himself, gripping helpless handfuls of the grass beneath him. "Y/N, please...please, just come back. Come back to me." Eddie begs, unable to think anything but his hopeless pleas for you to forgive him, to let things go back to the way they were.

"I can't, Eddie. Not right now. I'm sorry." You say tearfully, tempted to kneel before him and stroke his back or hair to soothe him. But you can't offer him any comfort, because he'll think everything is okay again when it isn't. Not yet. Maybe it never will be. All you can do is stand over him, the both of you crying yourselves sick again.

After what feels like hours, Steve eventually shows up to your house. He pries a broken Eddie off the ground, overpowering his drunken kicks and squeals as he begs to be let go. Eddie cries out your name like a wounded animal, the sound of it absolutely wretched. But Steve stuffs him into the passenger seat of his car anyway, taking him back to your apartment to babysit him for the night. If you know Eddie at all, he'll hoof it all the way back here if nobody stops him.

"C'mon, Y/N. Let's get back inside." Robin says when she comes over to you. You nod through your tears, forcing your eyes away from Eddie's muffled wailing, and his pounds against the car window. Robin walks you into the house, closing the door behind you both.

"I'm sorry, sugarpuff." Mom says, taking you in her arms for a warm hug. That whole display was incredibly difficult to watch. She feels for Eddie, she truly does. She acted pretty similarly when George waltzed out the door ten years ago. The poor boy's heart is aching for you, breaking more and more as the hours pass. She may still be furious with him for creating this situation in the first place. But she'd be hard pressed to not hold an ounce of sympathy for him at the same time.

"Sorry about your car, Nance." You state, muffled against your mother's shoulder.

"It's fine, Y/N. You didn't know Eddie was gonna pull a stunt like that. I'll make sure to send him the bill." Nancy says in understanding, her and Robin joining to huddle to help alleviate some of your pain.

"That was so fucking embarrassing." You whimper, unable to stop crying.

"We know, Y/N. But it's not your fault." Robin assures you.

"And what's even worse, I wanted to take him back. I wanted to let him hold me, and kiss me, and tell me how sorry he was...I almost did." You explain, feeling so ashamed of yourself with every word.

"It's okay, honey." Mom coos, stroking your hair.

"We've all been there. But you have to take the time to think this over. Don't let what just happened take away from that. Eddie was wrong to come here tonight, it was really selfish." Nancy says, helping talk you down from the edge of jumping back into things with Eddie right away. He betrayed your trust, and he doesn't deserve to be forgiven so easily.

"Fuck, I just realized I have to see him at work tomorrow." You groan, wishing you could afford to take the day off. But you've got inventory that cannot wait another day, and a new schedule you haven't even started yet.

"Given the total mess Eddie was just now, I'm guessing he'll be calling in sick." Robin replies, and the thought gives you some comfort. Maybe she's right, maybe Eddie will stay home. You really fucking hope so, at least.

"C'mon, girls. Let's clean up, get cozy, and put the last movie on to go to sleep." Mom says, patting your shoulders so you'll let her go. You help her and the others put away the leftover ice cream and wine, and slide into your sleeping bag between Robin and Nancy. Your mother pulls a blanket over herself on the couch, after putting in the final movie you'd picked out. The Breakfast Club begins to play, and she flicks off the lamp. The room goes dark, only lit by the television.

"Thanks for being here, girls. It means a lot." You say quietly, still a little teary-eyed as you settle in to finally get some rest. You've got a long day tomorrow. First, you have a couple classes, and then you have an afternoon shift at the Hawk. It's going to be absolute hell to get through every second of it. But the world doesn't stop just because your heart is broken.

"Of course, there's nowhere we'd rather be right now." Robin scoots closer to you, and Nancy follows her lead. They make you feel safe and warm, which is something you didn't know you needed until now. You allow your eyes to close as the students of Shermer High show up for their Saturday detention, and murmur a quiet 'goodnight' to the girls. You drift off in no time at all, a welcome contrast from the previous night. You don't dream about Eddie, or the party, or anything at all, really. You don't wake up covered in sweat and hyperventilating in the middle of the night. You don't toss and turn, or struggle to maintain a steady period of rest. This night is probably the easiest you've ever slept in a very, very long time.

Monday, September 25th, 1989

You're woken up the next morning by Robin, who hands you a bowl of cereal. She sits cross-legged beside you holding a bowl of her own, taking a large bite of Frosted Flakes into her mouth. "Thanks, Rob." You say sleepily, sitting up in your nest to eat. "What time is it?" You ask, rubbing your eyes.

"Seven-thirty. Don't worry, plenty of time before class." Robin replies, assuring you that you won't be late. "How'd you sleep?"

"Great, actually. For the first time in months, probably." You scoff lightly. You can't believe that all it took to get a good night's sleep was to be sandwiched between your friends on the floor.

"I'm glad to hear it, Y/N. You deserve it, after what you've been through."

"Careful Robin, you might make this 'Vickie' of yours jealous." You joke, the two of you laughing quietly. Mom's still passed out on the couch, but Nancy is nowhere in sight. "Where's Nance?" You ask, looking around to see if she's in the kitchen.

"She went home. Said she had some stuff to do with Karen for the wedding. Invitations, or something like that." Robin explains as she chews.

"Oh, okay." You shrug, digging into your own breakfast now. "Is the van still out there?" You question, hoping you don't have to see any evidence of last night's incident sitting in the driveway.

"Yeah. But Steve called last night and said he and Eddie would come get it once you've already left today. I talked to him for a minute, I didn't wanna wake you."

"What did he say?" You ask, curious to know how Eddie was doing.

"You sure you wanna know? I don't want to upset you." Robin says, giving you a cautious glance.

"I'm sure. I can take it." You nod.

"Okay, well...Steve said Eddie was even worse once they got to the apartment. He threw up. A lot. And he was just a mess, still crying for you and begging Steve to bring him back here." She pauses, gauging your reaction. You nod for her to keep going, and she does. "Steve did his best to calm him down, and managed to get him into some clean pajamas and at least lay in bed. He put Arwen in there with him, and he sat there until Eddie fell asleep."

"So, Steve stayed there all night?" You can't help all the questions, despite the plan you'd initially made to push Eddie out of your mind and focus on your own life. You love him too much to pretend you don't care. You have to know that he's not going to end up hurting himself.

"Yeah. Mostly to make sure the dingus wouldn't choke on his own puke, I'm sure. Steve seemed pretty pissed about the whole thing." She says.

"Really? I suppose we might've woken him up." You reply guiltily, considering how annoyed Steve must have been to be dragged into your drama.

"Oh, no, no! He was pissed at Eddie!" Robin clarifies, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"Oh." You roll your eyes at yourself for drawing the wrong conclusion.

"Yeah, he's definitely not a fan of Eddie making you cry. He gets very defensive of his friends." She explains further.

"But Eddie's his friend, too." You retort, not understanding the logic there.

"Well, yeah. But he hurt you, Y/N. In a pretty awful way, at that. Steve's seen all the shit you've had to go through, with Tommy and the trial and everything. We all have. And we were all under the impression that Eddie would never cause you that kind of pain." She speaks emphatically, showing you just how much she and the others care about you, that they understand your situation.

"Yeah, so was I." You huff, flicking the soggy pieces of cereal around your bowl with your spoon.

"But I will say, as much as we're all royally pissed at Eddie, I can understand why he didn't want to tell you." She says cautiously, noting your furrowing brow. "Don't get me wrong, he should've been honest from the beginning. But try to see it from his perspective. He did this awful thing, because he was hurting. And once it was over, he regretted it to a point where he hid it from everyone."

"I do see it, Robin. I've spent hours thinking about it from his point of view. But he still lied to me. How can I ever trust him again? How do I know he won't go back to her?" You ask as a couple tears drip into the bowl in your lap, forming translucent swirls in the milk.

"Y/N." Robin sighs. "There is no way in hell that he wants anyone on this entire planet besides you. I promise you that. Look, I'm not saying you should forgive him, or take him back. Alright? Just...think it over. Make sure you listen to your enormous heart, and that genius mind of yours, before you decide anything. Okay?"

"Okay." You nod, appreciating her advice. Those two things, your head and your heart, are currently all mixed up right now. So much of you wants to take Eddie back, to forget all about this and be happy again. But the other part can't stop picturing him with Chrissy, their mouths and hands all over each other. You also can't stop replaying the dishonest words he said to put your mind at ease months ago: There's nothing to worry about, sweetheart. Chrissy's a very dutiful wife, and I'm only interested in pursuing you...

Robin does you the favor of driving you to school. She's proving herself to be your closest friend as of late, and you're so thankful to have her on your side. You don't say much during the ride, your mind wandering to all sorts of places as you look out the window. You wonder how Eddie's doing, probably nursing a major hangover after the stunt he pulled last night. You wonder if Arwen is doing okay without you there, if she's meowing incessantly, searching the apartment for you. You wonder what Steve's night has been like, if he got any amount of sleep while watching over your man. 'My man.' What the hell does that even mean anymore?, you ask yourself. You sigh aloud as Robin pulls up to the college.

"I'll pick you up after your shift, Y/N. You gonna be okay today?" Robin asks as you sling your bag over your shoulder.

"I'll survive. Thanks for the ride, Rob. I'll see you later." You answer flatly, forcing a small smile. Though it falls away as quickly as it arrives.

"Later." She gives you a sympathetic look and a little wave. You close the passenger door, and she drives off to start her day at Family Video. You go inside the school building, heading to your first course of the day.

Your classes go alright, it's easy enough to shut off the emotional side of your brain and focus on taking notes. You blindly copy down the words your professors say, and anything vital they put on their chalkboards. You're running on autopilot, refusing to let yourself think or feel anything except 'that's important, write that down'. Everything else is locked away in a box, shoved to a deep dark corner until you can open it once you're alone. Old habits die hard, and your tendency to shut down and hide is currently fighting for its life.

You walk a few blocks to the theater once you're done with class, still feeling rather numb as you step through the door. You head straight for the restroom to change clothes, ready to dive headfirst into work and further remove yourself from inner turmoil. You slip into your uniform, your armor. You straighten everything out in the mirror and take a deep breath, before going into the office to start the day. You step past the threshold to the break room, stopping dead in your tracks when you see a familiar head of long curls digging through your shared locker. You debate turning around and running away, perhaps to hole up in the projection booth with Milo until the coast is clear. That is, until Jamie acknowledges you, holding a cup of coffee in hand.

"Hey, Y/N. How was your weekend?" Jamie asks, making you cringe. You notice Eddie flinch with his back still turned to you. What is he even doing here? You were sure he was too fucked up to come in today. You only hope he'll have the good sense to stay the hell out of your way.

"It was fine. How was yours?" You reply, forcing your feet to keep moving toward the office.

"Oh, it was great. I went out with that girl I told you about, Trudy. We had dinner at this Italian place..." Jamie continues talking, but you're not really paying attention. You pretend to be doing something important at the desk, shuffling papers around to keep your eyes pointed downwards.

"That's nice." You say casually, daring to look up for a moment to see if Eddie's left the room yet. He hasn't. In fact, he's leaning against the lockers now, appearing rather desperate to talk to you. He taps his foot on the floor, and his arms are crossed to keep his hands from fidgeting. He looks like complete and utter shit, too. He bears a pale, almost green complexion, with dark circles around his bloodshot eyes. "You okay with being on concessions today?" You ask Jamie, while still gazing in Eddie's direction. You can't help yourself, despite it being the very last place you want to look. You know he won't drop this, unless you handle it now.

"Sure thing, boss!" Jamie salutes you goofily, heading on his way. It's just you and Eddie in the space now, and the tension is palpable. Neither of you know what to say. You certainly don't have any desire to do whatever dance this is at all. You've got too much work to do.

You sit down in the office chair, pulling your empty schedule sheets closer to you. You retrieve a pencil from the metal cup on the desk, finding any way to not make eye contact as you speak. "What is it, Eddie?" You ask coldly, immediately regretting saying anything at all.

"Can we talk一" He starts to ask, but you cut him off with a loud scoff.

"No, we can't. I've got a lot of work to do. And I honestly don't have time to hear a half-baked apology right now." You snip.

"I am sorry, though. For being a total idiot last night." Eddie apologizes anyway, making you sigh.

"Yeah, it was pretty fuckin' stupid." You pause for a moment, and meet his eyes again. "You realize you could've killed yourself, right? Or someone else? What the fuck were you thinking?" You ask rapid fire questions angrily, your task falling to the wayside. You can't hide your concern for him. Things could have been so much worse last night. You could have lost him forever. If you haven't already.

"I know it was dumb, Y/N. I didn't mean to make things worse. But I was out of my mind. I just...can't handle being without you." He explains sadly, pulling on your heartstrings.

"Yeah, well, you're gonna have to learn, Eddie. I'm not your girlfriend right now, and I don't know if I will be again. But I have to figure that out on my own. These drunken stunts, and the calls to my house, and trying to talk to me when I'm not ready are only making that more difficult." You buckle down, not allowing Eddie's more than evident pain to sway you in your resolve. It's been less than forty-eight hours, not nearly enough time to make up your mind.

"I know. I'm sorry, pri一 Y/N." He corrects himself, sparing the pet names.

"Okay. So, when we're at work, we are coworkers only. I'm your supervisor, and you'll do as I say and fuck off. Got it?" You don't mean to be so harsh, but you don't really know what else to do.

"Yeah. Got it, boss." Eddie says with shaky breath, remembering all the times he's called you that in bed, all the times he said it to you as a genuine term of endearment. But now, those romantic meanings no longer exist. It's just another bland, boring word like all the rest. "Where do you want me?" He asks, still needing an assignment. He cannot wait to leave the room before he breaks down crying again. He also urgently needs a trip to the restroom to throw up.

"Ticket booth, please." You answer shortly, returning to your paperwork. Eddie leaves without another word, and the air returns to the room. One more minute of that, and you might have suffocated.

You spend an hour or so working out the schedules for the next couple weeks, putting yourself and Eddie as far away from each other as possible. It's a struggle, to be sure. But you can't see his annoyingly sad, handsome face every day while you're debating what's best for you. You put the papers on the bulletin board once you're finished, and grab the sheets you need for inventory. You trod along to the storage closet, taking your time filling in the numbers once you're inside. You don't have much else to do today, besides making sure everyone's on task and everything is running smoothly.

It's nice and quiet in here, blocking out the sounds of customers filing in, and the loud pops of the popcorn machine. No one comes in looking for more paper cups, or a fresh case of Red Vines. For the first time in the last couple of days, you feel a small sliver of peace. You get to just be, filling out your little boxes without having to worry about anything else. The outside world beyond the closet door is miles away, leaving you alone in a way that is far from lonely. You could get used to this. If only you were able to hide out in this mini fortress of solitude all day. Eventually though, you pencil in the last little number in the last little box on your clipboard. Perhaps a smoke break is in order after your efforts.

You put the completed inventory back in the office for Mr. Biggs to sign off on, and retrieve your pack of smokes and lighter from your bag. You go out the side door to the alley, and lean against the brick wall while slipping a cig between your lips. You bring the lighter to the tip, inhaling deeply to start the burn. It's your first smoke since you left the apartment. You suppose you've been putting off feeding your Eddie-induced nicotine addiction, as the mere taste of smoke reminds you of him. But you can't put it off another minute, you've been craving this far longer than you'd like to admit.

"Trouble in paradise?" Jamie asks, drawing your eyes his way. You hadn't even noticed the door opening again, too absorbed in numbing your stress with tobacco.

"You could say that." You reply, forcing a smile.

"I noticed how tense you and Eddie were earlier. I figured something happened between you too." He says, tossing the large trash bag he'd brought outside into the dumpster. It lands with a loud thunk as it hits the bottom of the bin.

"Yeah. It definitely did." You say shortly, not particularly interested in talking about your relationship problems with your coworker.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that. You guys are great together, we all think so. I hope you're able to work things out." Jamie says kindly, picking up on your cagey-ness. He may have been your lab partner once upon a time, but that doesn't exactly make you close friends.

"Yeah." You add simply, shrugging your shoulders as you take a long drag. You don't really know what else to say. You appreciate the sentiment, everyone is rooting for you. But you can't help wondering if all their support for the relationship is worth it.

"I'd better get back in, Max needs me." Jamie leaves you alone, feeling rather awkward about this small conversation. He doesn't blame you for being a bit cold to him. It appears whatever happened between you and Eddie must have been pretty bad.

"Fuck." You sigh to yourself once he's gone, pinching the bridge of your nose. Jamie was only trying to be nice. You didn't have to act so goddamn detached. You just want to pretend to be normal, at least until the workday is over. You won't spend your time telling all your underlings about your personal, private business. You won't dredge up all the bullshit in a place where tears and sobs do no good. You refuse to be anything but a supervisor today. You stub out your cig, having only smoked half of it, and head back inside to finish this stupid fucking day.

"How'd it go?" Robin asks as you slide into the passenger seat after closing time.

"Ugh, it was awful. Eddie showed up after all." You sigh, tossing your bag in the backseat.

"Oh, god. Really?" She groans on your behalf. She can imagine how difficult that must have been for you. "Did he say anything?"

"Yeah, that he was sorry for last night. He wanted to have a 'real talk', but I told him no. I told him that I need time to figure this out, and that he needs to leave me the fuck alone until I do." You explain grumpily, hating the fact that you spoke to him at all. You could've ignored him, let him stare at you dumbly until he gave up and walked away on his own. But you didn't. He knew you wouldn't. Because he knows you still love and care about him, despite everything.

"Good. I'm proud of you for putting your foot down." Robin says with a smile.

"Thanks. I don't feel proud. But I appreciate it, I guess." You laugh dryly.

"You'll get through this, Y/N. And you have all of us to help you do that." She reassures you, taking hold of your hand. You squeeze it tight, happy to accept the platonic affection. She's right. Things will get easier every day, you just have to stick with it and keep your head up. You'll decide whether or not going back to Eddie is what you really want. And you'll have your friends and family supporting you the entire way.

To be continued...

[faerieomenart]

Sorry for a minor art spam today. I had queued the Ekko post and now I'm just posting this last one that I recently made today. I am feeling unwell, so I drew my sillies and experimented with style a bit. :))

I really like when people draw hobbits with animalistic characteristics, and I tried... but ended up scratching that and drawing him more like his movie counterpart, since I could not capture the concept as good as I had liked lol. I tried to make Arwen look a bit less human-like and more... ethereal? But idk if I caught that vibe. Experimenting with this style was fun though.

Fun fact! I apparently (idk I don't look too much into this stuff, lmk if I am wrong) share a personality type with them both, INFP (if you believe in those types of sorting stuff— I just think they're fun), which is pretty funny because my name is inspired by her. ^^ I'll be looking like Frodo eventually though if I don't get my hair cut soon asjaskjs.