#i might do a prom post like day after prom. then a post after graduation. n then i could just throw my birthday into a post at the end of

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: hump day, wooooo.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Strange how you never found comfort at home. Well, it never felt like one for you. You were always just a hanger-on. A burden. 

As you enter your grandma's house, you can't help but exhale the tension you've been holding in. She's in her chair, reading, not a word at your arrival. You go into the kitchen, set on eating the frozen meal you lost your appetite for the other night. 

You peel back the corner on the tray and shove it in the microwave. As you shut the door, you nearly wince at the unexpected figure in the doorway. You don't know if you're really surprised or if Andy has you jumpy. Both. 

"Want some coffee?" You offer your grandmother, hoping to appease her. "Tea?" 

She grumbles and waves you off, shuffling across the tile in her slippers. She crosses her arms and her lip sticks out, "nice of that man to come all the way down here like that." 

You turn your attention back to the countdown and shrug, "yeah." 

"He didn't need to just for all that. For you, did he?" She prompts. Her interest both irks and worries you. She never cared about anything. "And after losing his family." 

"Right, yeah, it's tough," you twiddle your fingers at your side. 

"Don't sound so heartbroken," she scoffs, "Christ, wasn't that boy you're friend?" 

You face her as the microwave beeps, "grandma..." you can't tell her. If she even bothered to listen, she wouldn't believe you. She doesn't even know Andy and she's already taking his side. Typical. "Yeah, I'm sad. Guess I'm a bit in shock." 

You turn back and take the too hot tray out, holding back a hiss at the singe in your fingertips. You spin and cross the kitchen to grab a fork. Your grandma huffs and putters after you.  

"He sent them flowers," she says. 

You stir the noodles and cheese, "he did." 

"Fancy. Expensive." 

You don't really get why she's still harping on. She didn't put so much mind to your prom or graduation or even when you got your job. Yet you can't be surprised where she's strayed; she's always been on you about money.  

"Seems to me he's a bit lost," she says, "you're..." she weighs her words before she speaks, something she rarely does, "maybe he's tryna find some direction. He might... might wanna take care of ya." 

"Huh?" You make a face and glance at her from the corner of you eye. 

"Like, I dunno, I watch those talk shows, grief is something nasty. I would know," she goes on. You can't remember the last time you heard her talk so much. "He only got-- had the one kid. You're about the same age... maybe he's tryna, I dunno, replace what he lost." 

You nearly laugh in her face. Really? This is what she cares about? You stare at her and furrow your nose. You could tell her. You could try. She's listening. For once.  

"I don't think... it's not... I'm not his responsibility and I don't wanna be." 

"You're barely your own responsibility," she sneers, "can't see a good thing in front of you." 

"Grandma--" 

"Well? Pretty sure there's more where those flowers came from," he tuts, "you got a few hard lessons to learn, girlie. 

You look down at the macaroni. You're not hungry anymore. You grab the tray and walk away. 

"Yeah, well, maybe you shoulda tried to teach me some, huh?" You toss over your shoulder and stomp out of the kitchen. 

You go into your room and kick your door shut. How is he doing this? How is everyone, even a woman who hasn't lived in reality for twenty years, on his side? 

You put the tray and fork down and go to the other side of the bed. You sit facing the window and drop your head into your hands. The only person you have is too far away. Besides, you don't want to drag her into this. Not any more than you already have. 

🎮

For once, you’re anxious to get to work. You welcome the distraction from everything else; debt, grandma, and the biggest problem of all, the one you won’t even name. You stroll up to the ice cream booth as Luis stands outside the window, chatting to Jessie as she stands at her vigil inside. You frown. You don’t see the manager often. Only when he hired you. 

“Ah, there she is,” Luis spots you and waves you over, “right on time.” 

As he checks his watch you pull out your phone. You’re early, like always. His presence is more than a coincidence. You have this ripply feeling in your stomach. You black your phone and cross your arms, hiding it under your elbow. 

“Hi, how’s everything going?” You ask as you approach the kiosk. 

“Everything’s great,” Luis smirks, “sunshine’s out, customers too.” 

You glance around. The picnic tables are mostly full. It is the perfect weather for a scoop. 

“Yeah, gonna be a busy shift,” you pander with a smile. 

“Hey,” Luis wags his finger as if remembering something, “before you start, let’s have a chat.” 

“Oh, alright,” you agree. 

He waves you away from the window as more customers approach. You follow him to one of the tables. You wait for him to sit before you do the same. He looks around from behind his black lenses and tilts to reach into his back pocket. He slides out his phone and brings it forward to cradle in both hands. 

“So uh, how are you liking it? The work?” He asks. 

You’re uneasy. You stare at his cell then look him in the face. 

“It’s good. Steady,” you answer as you keep your own phone in your lap. 

“Mhmm,” he hums and once more glances around, “look, this is never easy but I got a complaint--” 

You blink slowly. You’re not surprised. You figured it would happen. Still, you thought maybe Andy might be above that. Or anything at all. 

“Obviously, I take these things seriously. This business is all about customer service, especially with the Dairy Queen down the block,” he explains, “but I do try to give the benefit of the doubt. I checked the cameras.” He pauses for effect as you shrink down, “you closed the window.” 

You sigh and heave out a breath, “I did.” 

“You know we don’t do that,” he reprimands. 

“Sir, I know but... the customer... he wasn’t a customer. He’s... bothering me.” 

He pokes his tongue into his cheek and scratches his neck, “oh? Didn’t look like that type. When I spoke to him, he didn’t even seem upset. He just asked me to check in, really, but it’s not his shop. He don’t gotta worry about the bottom line. I do.” 

“It won’t happen again,” you wisp out. 

“I know it won’t,” he says. 

You sit, waiting for him to continue. He just stares at you. You shake your head. No. 

“Sorry, I gotta let you go.” 

“What? It’s my first complaint--” 

“This is an ice cream shop, how many of those do you think we get? Not very hard to keep the people happy so if you’re getting unhappy customers, well, that’s all I need to know.” 

“Please, Luis, I need this job--” 

“Shouldn’t have closed the window. I’m sorry. That’s the one rule.’ 

“God, I--” you huff and snarl, “whatever. Fine.” You stand and untie your apron, “get your bottom line.” 

You toss the apron on the table and swipe up your bag. You turn without waiting for another empty apology. Fuck. It’s shitty but hey, there’s always the DQ and now you have experience, right? 

🎮

You fill out an application for the Dairy Queen and a few other places. Your job hunt has been chronic as it is. It’s only that your search for a second gig, is now back to square one. You have only your last check coming to you before you’re digging into your meagre savings; the money meant for tuition. 

Your grandma is back to living in her novels. Good. You didn’t realise until before how much you preferred it. 

As you close yourself in your room, your phone vibrates. You look down at the message. It’s him. He’s been messaging, still thinking he might talk you into it. He is a lawyer but this isn’t his court. This is your life. 

How pathetic. A grown man meddling in the affairs of a nineteen-year-old. If you could let go of the catfishing, everything else has assured you of his character. You flop onto your bed and swipe away his texts. 

You wallow there for a while. In self-pity, in futility, in listlessness. You don’t know what to do. Everything is at a standstill. You have no job, you don’t know if you can pay for next semester, let alone the year, and you’re stuck in this deadbeat town. 

You put on a video to try to drown out the incessant anxiety. Today, you’re just going to let yourself sink. You can deal with everything tomorrow. You close your eyes and yawn, drifting into a haze that makes your head fuzzy. 

You’re roused by another vibe of your phone. You ignore it. He’s not going to get an answer. He can keep skirting around your blocks but you’re not wasting your energy. You’ve told him enough times to leave you alone. He has to get bored eventually. 

You roll over and bury your head in the pillow. You hear your grandma clunking around in the kitchen. You hate this place. You hate your life. The more you think about it, you can’t deny how horrible it really is, especially in the shadow of your dwindling future. 

What did you do to deserve this? You’re a good person. At least, you’ve always tried to be. It feels like a lot of karma for that Twizzler you stole when you were eight. 

Your grandmother keeps up the racket and your phone keeps on buzzing. You flip over and sit up. You snatch up the phone and stop yourself from flicking your thumb sideways. It isn’t him. It’s Kara. You never did call her back. 

You answer and put her on speaker, “hey, sup?”  

“Hey,” her voice is shaky, “uh, I don’t know.” 

“What?” You sit up straighter, “is everything--” your voice trails off as you listen to the commotion on her end; chatter you can’t make out, movement obscured through the speaker, “what do you mean you don’t know?” 

“The cops are here,” she murmurs, “I don’t know. They just showed up. Said they got a call from the landlord or something. Cause it’s the property owner, they can just come in or whatever. I don’t know, I don’t know...” Her voice quivers with panic, “me and Calvin were just hanging out...” 

“That’s... why would they--” 

“Shoot, I think...” she lowers her voice, “they must’ve found his stash. Shit, shit.” 

“Kara?” Your heart races as you try to keep track of what’s going. 

“Miss, can you please hang up the call? We need to question you,” a deep voice interjects. 

“One second, I’m just on the phone with--” 

“Miss, hang up or you’ll be charged with obstruction.” 

The line cuts and you gape at your phone. What the hell? You try to dial back, the call rolls through but doesn’t pick up. You try again and again. You get out of bed and pace, texting Kara helplessly. Shit, shit! How is this happening? Over what? A tiny dime bag? Everyone smokes, not that you’re the biggest fan. Too smelly for you. 

You put your hand to your forehead. What do you do? You can probably get a bus ticket. Even if you get to her, the bond is going to be way more than you can afford. You doubt you’ll even be able to scrape it together.  

Do you call her parents? No, they’d kill her, then she’d kill you. 

You shake as your legs turn to jello. You sit back down and close your eyes. Holy crap, this can’t be real.  

Your phone vibrates. It doesn’t stop. You look down at the incoming call. Unknown Caller. You’re not stupid. You know it’s him and his timing assures you he had something to do with this. This isn’t a coincidence. Those don’t exist. If there was any sort of luck in this world, you would have found some by now. 

“What?” You put the phone to your ear and snarl. 

“I can help your friend,” he says. 

You’re silent. You want to scream at him. You want to swear at him. You want to call him every nasty word you can. But this isn’t about you, not just you. You brought Kara into this mess, even if you never meant to. You won’t let her pay for your stupidity. 

“Meet me at Oxford and Maris. There’s a restaurant--” 

“Fine,” you snip and hang up. 

You lower your phone and shudder. He won. Given his career, he must be used to that. 

[suddenserendipity]

Derek Suarez Week Day 3: "Pining"

for @derek-week-event

It was in the late afternoon before the night of senior prom. His crimson velvet suit jacket and newly pressed (thanks mom) black pants hung on the door to his room. Derek lied on his bed staring up into the ceiling. There was nothing interesting about his ceiling, in fact it might have been the most boring shade of grey he'd ever seen - had it always been grey?

In his ears blasted an alternative rock song befitting his current mood. He exhaled and closed his eyes trying to ground himself in what he was feeling.

It was promnight for her too, he'd learned from a facebook post she'd made a few days ago. He made a deep exhale.

She had probably gotten a date. If she did he was happy for her. Or more like he wanted to be happy for her but the thought of her dancing and having fun with someone else- kissing someone else- made him feel all mixed up and miserable inside.

He knew he had no right to feel like that, after all he was the one who had hidden behind a marriage agreement because he was to scared to take the leap. But it felt to soon, 13 was too soon. At 18 .... he wasn't sure how he felt.

He wanted to be with her, that wasn't a question... but now? No he had to get through college first and get a nice job - preferably he could be drafted for a soccer team... and when he had worked for a bit - then... yeah then. Maybe then. Uuuugh why did he have to be like this all the time?!

He swallowed down hard and realized his eyes had begun to tear up a little as he blinked his eyes open. His phone had made a noise. Reaching over to stop the music he had been listening to he checked the new text that had popped into his inbox. It was her.

Hi! Just wanted to wish you a happy prom. I'm going with Cove, Terri and Miranda. Just a fun group thing with friends you know? :) Me, Terri and Miranda are getting ready at my place and we're gonna meet up with Cove later. This is my prom dress. Can I see your outfit... I mean if you're still going. Are you going with anyone? Wish you could be here too so we could do this together :) *hugs*

He looked at the image she sent him and she looked so beautiful that his heart ached. He was used to seeing her in only black or similar but in the picture she was wearing a midnight blue promdress with a beaded bodice and tulle skirt reaching her calfs. Her black hair was swept to the side and was decorated with a sparkly diadem. She smiled brightly into the camera.

He read the message over and over. So, she wouldn't be bringing a date date. He caught himself smiling a little.

Then he jumped into action and started getting ready for prom and send a her a text back.

Hiya gal! Sorry for the late reply but I was getting myself ready. This is my outfit for tonight. I'm going too with just some friends from the soccer team. You look beautiful btw and tell everyone "Hi" from me. I really wish I could be there too, would be fun to redo that dance at the Summer Soiree. I've gotten better believe it or not. But I'll see you at your graduation right? I think yours are a day or so before mine. I miss you - Promise to have loads of fun and I'll promise to have fun tonight too ;)

[ambrossart]

Hi! I just read your most recent writing update. I’m so excited for the next DWM short stories! I reread Post Prom a few nights ago, and it still gives me butterflies like it’s the first time I’m reading it 🦋

I meant to submit an ask a few weeks ago, when you were taking questions for your birthday. By the way, HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY 💓💓💓! I hope you had a great day!!

I was thinking about how Eddie and Reader share math class, and about how Eddie is notorious for throwing truancy laws to the wind. So here’s my question…

Either deliberately or subconsciously, did Eddie ever decide against skipping class because he knew he’d see Reader?

Wishing you the best!

(I honestly can’t remember, but if I already submitted this question and I’m repeating myself, please ignore me!!)

You did submit this question, actually! Sorry, I’ve had it sitting in my drafts and I’ve been working on it little by little.

Thank you for the birthday wishes! And man, your timing is always so perfect. I’ve had Stranger Things on in the background while I work and I’m slowly creeping up on Season 4. And I know once I get to Season 4, my obsession with Eddie is gonna get fully reignited again, so I’m trying really hard to finish this chapter of my Bowers gang fic so that I can treat myself with some shameless Eddie Munson indulgence. I really miss that man.

Anyway, about your question!

So Eddie and the reader have shared many classes throughout the years. It’s probably just a coincidence, but I could also see Eddie picking classes he thinks she might take. On a semi-related note, I also firmly believe she’s partly the reason Eddie refuses to graduate. I’m not saying it’s 50-50, more like 75-25, because the main reason Eddie’s putting off graduating is because he has no idea what he’s gonna do with his future. He’d rather stay in high school than face that monster, but I’m getting off topic.

Getting back on topic, Eddie does have a habit of skipping classes. The only classes he doesn’t skip are the ones he has with the reader. It wasn’t always that way, though. He used to avoid those classes like the plague because he couldn’t stand being around her. It was too painful. His broken heart was still bleeding, after all.

Eddie’s attitude changed when he had to give a presentation. No avoiding that. So he’s standing in front of the class, clueless, having to pull a fifteen-minute presentation out of his ass (which he does, of course, because Eddie’s a showman), and he hears laughter. Her laughter. It should sting, the sound of her laughter, but it doesn't. In fact, it feels strangely... familiar. All of a sudden, it’s like they're back in Scottie’s basement. Eddie’s performing in front of her. For her. And she's beaming at him.

That’s why Eddie doesn’t ever skip the classes he has with her. No matter how painful it gets (and sometimes it gets very painful) he toughs it out in hopes that once—even if it’s only once a year—he’ll get to see his old friend again.

Now would Eddie ever admit this to the reader (you had asked this in your original submission)? I think he would if it came up. He’s got no reason to hide it. And now that they’re together, I’m sure there are all kinds of hidden truths just waiting to come out.

[ryanatwoodenthusiast]

s3 ryan atwood

i, along with many other people (i assume), was not too happy about the characterization of ryan in s3 but after starting to rewatch the season i noticed that... it's completely realistic?

we've got to consider this.

ryan used to live in chino, where he thought there was no hope for him, for his future. and then, trey stole a car and he had to get in, so that he didn't get caught. he met sandy, and his whole life changed. he finally had a family he could always rely on, friends who always had his back. but he was always scared of messing things up. anyway, after the events of s1, he felt okay. he wasn't dating marissa anymore but he met lindsay. and she made him extremely happy. then she left, and he was sad again, but him and marissa reconnected shortly after. and then... his brother is back from prison and the boy (understandably) is reluctant to trust him at first and trey makes him feel like a bad person for not trusting him. the whole thing with the 'risky business' egg happens and he's tired. he's so, so tired and dissapointed. didn't he get out of chino? didn't he get away from basically having to parent his mom and his brother? he goes to miami. and when gets back, things are strange. he thinks marissa cheated on him. theresa convinces him, 'no, that can't be.'. and then he finds out. trey sa'd marissa. how could he? how could he just hurt marissa like that? he goes to fight him - but this is something he doesn't do anymore. he almost dies. then marissa comes - the only thing she can do is take the gun and shoot trey. ryan is torn up. he's so, so angry at trey for what he did. he feels guilty for attacking him. and he feels conflicted about what marissa did. what trey did was horrible but... he was some of the only family ryan had left at the time.

well, s3 rolls around and now ryan is being accused of having shot trey. but marissa doesn't back down, she stays on his side - his own brother accuses ryan after being blackmailed by julie cooper (being framed for attempted manslaughter by julie cooper - just an ordinary day for ryan) but then, the truth comes out. oh, and his adoptive mother, who gave him stability compared to his mother who was an alcoholic is in rehab... because she is too.

the season already starts out rough for him, it won't possibly get worse... right? wrong.

expelled from school, let back in, punches the dean, expelled again. marissa gets suspiciously close with a guy at her new school who has feelings for her, a situation all too familiar to ryan. he has to help the guy several times - oh, and volchok's there now too, a guy who doesn't like ryan, but he keeps his cool. he's changed, he doesn't attack, he doesn't fight. then, johnny dies. this happens right after ryan gave marissa an ultimatum, and he was there, he didn't catch him fast enough. and marissa accuses him of being happy that johnny is dead. they break up, he starts dating sadie - he's happy with her, he gets into berkeley. him and sadie break up, he goes to meet his mom. she's doing well, she'll come to his graduation, then he visits berkeley. there are so many opportunities, everything makes sense now. theresa had a baby and it might be his - and his happiness is destroyed. the baby isn't his, now he's back in touch with theresa, they go to prom together. everything's good in his life. he's friends with marissa again. volchok steals the money. he fights him. back to his old ways. he has to steal a car with him. but this time... this time he doesn't get in. he doesn't steal it. he truly has changed. graduation! his mom is there, marissa's leaving, he gets a car. his mom leaves, he drives marissa to the airport. she dies. in his arms. everything that happened until this moment was for nothing.

okay, i'm not sure what this post has turned into but anyway, like, if we look at all this... of course he was the way he was in s3. who wouldn't?

[cadybear420]

Cadybear's MC-LI couples: The Ultimate Crash Course Masterlist (NOTE: List is subject to frequent updates)

As a corollary to my MC Crash Course Masterlist, I've decided to make a comprehensive list of all of my official MC-LI couples in Choices. I might also make some "profile/intro pages" for each of my couples, we'll see.

"Canon" Couples

The Couples that I have done official playthroughs for (or am well into a playthrough for) and are part of my personal canon. These are the main couples that you will see me post about the most.

DLS: Dick Ryder (m!MC) x Peg King (Hispanic Charlotte King)

Important Notes: - Dick and Peg marry after the DLS timeline, Dick happy to be the (step)dad to Yvette (and, of course, officially a DILF).

HSS Prime: Jordan Price (f!MC) x Julian Castillo

Important Notes: - Jordan does not start to feel attraction for Julian until much later into/after the HSS Prime timeline. Prior to this, she dates a prep boy named Danny who later moves away. - Jordan and Julian begin to date at the end of OG HSS Book 3. She's stayed in touch with the rest of her friends after she graduated, and confesses her feelings for him when she asks him to prom. - Their relationship definitely lasts a long time at the very least. They most likely do not get married, but do remain a couple.

HSS OG: Evie Ayana (f!MC) x Aiden Zhou

Important Notes: - Evie and Aiden share their first kiss at homecoming and confess their love for each other at prom. - The two maintain a very strong relationship following the OG HSS timeline. They get married after they both graduate college, it being an open marriage, and they eventually have kids. - There also exists a AU parallel universe in which Evie joined band and got even closer with Aiden while developing a talent at sax-playing.

HSS:CA: Cher Lee (f!MC) x Ajay Bhandari

Important Notes: - In Book 1, Cher did not have any romantic interest in Rory or Ajay. She saw Rory as a friend and didn't care much for Ajay. Rather, she had a bit of a puppy crush on Erin. - Cher does not take an interest in Ajay until the timeline of HSS:CA Book 2. - Sometime during Cher's sophomore year/Ajay's senior year, the two break up on amicable terms due to uncertainties about their relationship following Ajay's graduation. - However, they do maintain a strong friendship through the years. When they're a bit older and wiser, they start dating again and eventually marry and have kids.

ILITW: Jo Hunter (f!MC) x Lucas Thomas

Important Notes: - Prior to ILITW timeline, Jo has slept around with a handful of other guys in a series of one-night stands. But she's never had a committed relationship before. - Jo and Lucas date after the ILITW timeline, and maintain a long distance relationship while Lucas is in college. - They eventually get married, having become engaged by the end of ILW. It's an open marriage. They probably will not have kids though, maybe one at the very most.

ILB: Harper Addison Vance-Fisher (demigirl!MC) x Tom Sato

Important Notes: - Harper and Tom stay in an official relationship post ILB timeline, but they do not marry. They just live together in an apartment as a couple and the proud parents of Boo Boo, AKA the giant teddy bear that Harper won for Tom at Lake Day.

ILW: Cedric Zhao (m!MC) x Jocelyn Wu

Important Notes: - Cedric and Jocelyn start out as a friends-with-benefits relationship that eventually gains a romantic element too. - This relationship might get replaced with Cedric x Amalia, or maybe even an open/poly relationship where Cedric can be with both Joss and Amalia.

MAH: Peggy Stone x Tyler Woods (White)

Important Notes: - Peggy and Tyler begin dating with an open relationship by the end of MAH. - The two maintain a strong relationship post MAH timeline. Whether or not they marry is uncertain, but they do share a home after they both graduate. They most likely will have kids.

ROD: Adelaide Zhou (f!MC) x Colt Kaneko

Important Notes: - Addi and Colt have some romantic and sexual attractions for each other, but the relationship is nothing more than a brief fling and they do not become an official dating couple. They may or may not reunite years later, though.

RWB: Atticus St. James (m!MC) x f!Drew Young (White)

Important Notes: - Drew in this universe is pansexual. - Their relationship lasts for a couple of years, but I haven't fully decided their endgame.

WEH: Sage Amin (f!MC) x m!Dakota Winchester (East Asian)

Important Notes: - Sage and Dakota's relationship does not last, for obvious reasons. :(

Parallel Universe "Canon" Couples

The couples that are for my secondary MCs and are part of my personal canon for parallel universes. These are also couples I may post about a lot, albeit maybe not as frequently as their main-universe counterparts.

HSS OG: Alan Parke (m!MC) x Emma Hawkins

Important Notes: - This relationship might get replaced with Alan x Maria, or maybe even an open/poly relationship where Alan can be with both girls.

WIP Couples

MCs and Couples where I've more or less decided their romantic route/endgame, but they are still awaiting a playthrough before I can officially incorporate then into any aspects of my personal canon. I might still share with the occasional headcanon I come up with here and there, but I'll need more time doing their actual playthrough first in order to develop them better.

ATV: Jax Elara (m!MC) x Kepler

Important Notes: [None yet]

AME: Jamie MacLeod-Noor (f!MC) x Carson Stewart

Important Notes: - Unfortunately, Carson is not a LI option in the canon game. So in my playthrough, Jamie will end up engaged to either Adam or Derek, but then ditch whoever it is at the wedding for Slater. This will translate very differently in my headcanons. - Jamie has some attraction to Adam/Derek, but not enough for a committed relationship. She half-thinkingly accepts the proposal, but quickly realizes she does not want this marriage. - But when Slater flirts with her, she starts to figure out a way to get out of the wedding and snag Carson instead. She plays along with the wedding to reap the benefits of it, and leads Slater on in order to better plot her way out. - At the wedding itself, she ditches the groom. But much to the disappointment of Slater, she does not confess feelings for him. Instead, she finally confesses her feelings for Carson. - She and Carson then begin dating, and have a TV wedding for the fun of it. They live together in the fancy beach house (and there may or may not be a queerplatonic relationship with Jen too), and they might get married some years later.

BaBu: Jayden Cassidy (bigender!MC) x Myra Dixon

Important Notes: - The two definitely stay together after getting married. I haven't yet decided the names of their kids though.

BB: Jasmine Yin (f!MC)

Important Notes: - She's probably going to have relations with Adrian (white), Jax, and Kamilah. She might also develop some queerplatonic attraction to Lily. Whoever she will end up closest to is still being decided, but there's definitely gonna be a poly endgame. - She may also hook up with Drac and Priya. - In my headcanons, she will also have relations with Nikhil. - In my first playthrough, Jax is the one who died at the end. IDK how this will play out in my upcoming more official playthrough. But whatever the case, I might change it in my headcanons so that Adrian is the one who dies�� both Adrian and Kamilah should have been eligible too, and I feel like it's more fitting for Adrian to die. IDK yet.

ES: Emilia Harris (f!MC) x Raj Bhandarkar

Important Notes: - Unfortunately, Raj is not a LI option in the canon game. In my official playthrough, I might have Emilia be a bit flirty with Jake, and maybe even get handfasted to him just to see what the route is like. But in my actual headcanons, it doesn't go past flirting and she instead gets in a relationship with Raj. - Her relationship might not last, because I will most likely be choosing the Vaanu ending for her.

ES: BJ Kingsley (m!MC) x Estela Montoya

Important Notes: - I might have BJ choose the Endless ending, meaning that his relationship with Estela should be able to last.

HSS OG: Violet Jones (f!MC) x Michael Harrison

Important Notes: [None yet]

HSS OG: Samara Al-hakim (f!MC) x Caleb Mitchell

Important Notes: [None yet]

TH:M: Otto

Important Notes: - She has had feelings for Ansel for a long time, and in my headcanons, she'll get to have hate sex with him in that scene in the wine cellar. Her official endgame however is still being decided. I'm considering a possible friends-to-lovers with Rye, but it's not certain yet.

TPA: Jane Bond (f!MC) x Callum "Booty Galore" Grey (Indian), m!Rowan Salazar, m!Lou Belrose, m!Alexis Reid

Important Notes: - Unfortunately, Alexis and Rowan die in the canon storyline. I may or may not rewrite this.

TRR: Lew [Last Name Pending] (f!MC) x Liam Rys (East Asian)

Important Notes: [None yet]

(Possible) AU Couples

Parallel universes in which MCs that already have endgame LIs in my personal canon end up pursuing different LIs. In some cases, if I like the AU couple better than the original planned couple, I might switch and make the AU couple the canon one.

HSS OG: Evie Ayana (f!MC) x Michael Harrison

Important Notes: - This will definitely not be taking the place of Evie x Aiden in my personal canon, but some of it will still be incorporated in the Evie x Aiden canon. Evie and Aiden do have an open relationship, so Evie will sleep with Michael every now and then. - In the AU parallel universe where Evie pursues Michael, their relationship might be more queerplatonic.

ILITW: Jo Hunter (f!MC) x Andy Kang

Important Notes: - This will likely not be taking the place of Jo x Lucas in my personal canon, but some of it will still be incorporated in the Jo x Lucas canon. Jo and Lucas do have an open relationship, so Jo will have some relations with Andy, Connor, maybe even Dan and Noah too. However, the relationship with Andy would definitely be the strongest of the outside relations.

ILW: Cedric Zhao (m!MC) x Amalia de Leon

Important Notes: - This couple has the possibility of replacing Cedric x Joss as the main route and endgame for Cedric. Though if possible, I would like to maybe go for a poly endgame.

Unserious Couples

The MCs and couples where I just did not take them seriously and really only exist for fun.

TNA: Eh IDC (f!MC) x Samuel Dalton (White)

Important Notes: [None]

Rewrite Couples

The MCs and couples that exist solely for me to rewrite their stories in my personal canon because their actual canon story is in my shitlist tiers.

TBB: Alyssa Larson (f!MC) x Cole Stone (Native American)

Important Notes: - These characters exist in my headcanons for the sole purpose of headcanoning that the baby is rescued from this awful couple and adopted by Evie and Aiden. I have yet to decide the name of the baby though.

[amalgamgooze]

mall adventure with my sleep deprived friends

Prom was last night. We all had a good time.

======================

Of course, everyone's either super tired today or just feeling weird.

I ended up only waking up at 1:30 this afternoon because of how late I'd stayed up. I'd felt tired leaving prom but I also couldn't really fall asleep.

Regardless. I didn't feel that tired, but that's probably because I probably got a good amount of sleep last night AND I usually don't get more than 8 hours of sleep on regular days.

The same can't be said for my friends, I'm afraid.

At the mall, I practically had to drag them out of the kitchenware section, breaking up a conversation something along the lines of "do we need anything for our graduation parties from this aisle?". I might be an asshole for doing that, but come on. If you're getting a waffle iron for your grad party, that's something you should probably coordinate with whoever's helping you host the party--not your friends that you're just going on a trip to the mall with.

(Though I suppose a waffle iron could be fun at a grad party. To an extent.)

(Frying pans, however, are just weird.)

After doubting the purity of two-dollar Target lemonade jugs and spending an obscene amount of time in the cheese and kitchenware aisles, this party ambled onwards into a Bath & Body Works.

Bath & Body Works is, if you're not pursuing delectable-yet-manufactured fragrances, an excellent exercise in distinguishing between farce and reality, between satire and truth.

"Lemongrass" and "Lavender" are two tangible scents. They are "things". I can pick up a "lemongrass" and smell it.

Our slippery slope begins at scents like "Rain" and "Tropical". Obviously, "Tropical" is a collection of various "tropical" smells masterfully blended into one fragrant concoction, and "Rain" does, in fact, have the scientifically-proven-and-named smell petrichor. But Bath & Body Works "Rain" does not parallel that of the post-downpour smell of petrichor. Bath & Body Works "Rain" is just sweet. "Rain" is just a name attached to this specific smell.

(See Hayakawa's book Language in Thought and Action.)

Finally, at the bottom of our descent, we find smells such as "Water" and "Canyon". Things that don't really have a smell. But somehow, the geniuses at Bath & Body Works came up with a way to attribute scents to "Water" and "Canyon".

(Again, Hayakawa's Language in Thought and Action.)

But alas. There is no bottom, nor is there a top. There was never a descent to begin with. At Bath & Body Works, the smell of "Water" is as real as the smell of "Lavender". It's all fake chemical fragrances anyway.

And therein lies the farce.

I suppose the wine-taster-like antics that I've seen Bath & Body Works customers do also contribute to this. For instance, when they give you paper to spray with a fragrance to see how it smells, you should probably, you know, spray the paper. However, I got to witness some geniuses spray the air, then wave the paper around in the now-scented air. I commend you, for far too long when I shoved the sprayed paper up my nostrils did I feel the scent was much too bold and unbearable. Now, however, I am fortunate enough to have happened upon superior intellect in action, and now when I shove the Bath & Body Works scent-test strips up my nose, the scent becomes much more bearable.

I don't know. Might as well start holding the scent up to your ear and sampling how it sounds too at that point.

(Yes. Of course I tasted a few scents today.)

I've got gripes with Bath & Body Works and revisiting it today didn't fix any of them. Like, why not just buy normal soap? Why not buy something real? I get that nice smells are nice, but nice smells can also be attained via other means!

Is it too much to ask in today's America that my hand soap fulfill its one job without making my hands smell like "Canyon" afterward? Is it too much to ask that the lavender I smell be from flowers or perhaps even a lovely chap steeping a splendid cup of lavender tea, someone who'll talk to me and hold real conversation instead of smelling of "Lavender"?

…

I wonder what "Pessimism" smells like.

…

Anyway.

Thankfully, after fleeing the stank halls of Bath & Body Works, we went to a few other stores.

And then I got peer pressured into buying a totally radical hat. Sweet!

…

That was about it, I suppose.

A fun trip, no doubt!

But damn. I could go on and on about goddamn Bath & Body Works.

But I won't. Eventually I'd hit a point where it'd stop being funny and true.

And that's a fundamental part of dancing on that line between reality and farce.

…

Bath & Body Works should not be bothering me this much.

…

See you all later, I suppose!

[eddiemunsonspantschain]

Hidden Away - Ch.1

Note: This was previously posted with an OC. I have since decided to go reader insert friendly as it seems people prefer them more (can’t blame you). So if you’ve read this before, it’s all pretty much the same just the name and specifics taken out. Enjoy!

Pairing: Eddie Munson x secretly alternative!reader

Warnings: Eventual smut in later chapters, absent parent, upside down related stuff later, minors DNI

You do not have permission to copy, translate or repost my works onto other platforms. 18+ only.

Hawkins was about as small a town as it got. All the times your parents took you into cities, it was like a whole other world. You preferred Hawkins. The cities were too big. Too many people. In Hawkins? You knew everyone. Maybe not personally, but you saw the same people every day. You knew what to expect. Like every day in math class, Robin Buckley would drop her pencil and she’d mutter a fast apology if it got anywhere close to me. Like Jason Carver taking every chance he had to send a wink, smile, or blow a kiss to Chrissy during games so long as it didn’t affect how he was playing. Everything was predictable. Boring. But it was nice knowing what was coming. 

“Do you guys have dates yet for the Spring dance?” Chrissy asked, not looking up from the braid she was making in Bianca’s hair.

A few of the girls answered. Some with hopeful prospects from the guys off the basketball team, others confirming they had indeed found their dates. You didn’t look up from your sketchbook. You had been trying to get this line down for what felt like forever, but every time you drew it; it was slightly slanted. So you had to erase it and start over.

“Y/N?... Y/N?!” 

You looked up. Chrissy was looking at you expectantly. “What?” You asked, and she laughed.

“Do you have a date for the Spring dance!?” she asked, reaching over to shove you.

You roll my eyes and look at Chrissy. “You know I hate dances.” You answered her.

“Yeah, but you love Halloween and didn’t go to the Halloween dance. And you never go to any of the dances! C’mon! Why not come to the Spring dance?” Chrissy pleaded, “It’s one of the only ones we’re gonna have before graduation besides prom.”

You weren’t girly, really. You didn’t dress like the other girls in the squad did when they weren’t at school. Darker colors over lighter ones and a couple pieces that others would deem as ‘freak clothes’, as Sally and the girls called it. You only joined cheerleading because you couldn’t do gymnastics anywhere else. With that, though, you fell into the popular crowd. You kept your interests to yourself, though. The music your dad got you into, the horror movies you loved. Why spend four years being teased when you hid perfectly fine among the populars? The only one you really liked was Chrissy. She was nice and never condescendingly. She’d been that way with you since middle school. The other girls sometimes were mean, even if they wouldn’t outright admit it. “Cause that requires having a date or looking like a loser.” You smiled and reached over to tap the tip of her nose.

“So? I’m sure any loser would go with you.” Bianca said, as she flipped the page in her magazine.

“Thanks.” You murmur and roll your eyes. 

“Seriously, you’d think any guy would agree to go with you because of being a cheerleader alone.” Sophia agreed with a shrug.

“I think any guy would be honored if you asked him.” Chrissy interrupted, reaching out to grab your elbow, “Or hey, one of them might ask you.”

“They’re too afraid of her to ask her!” Bianca laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t blame em. Ice queen over here.” 

“As always, your input is enlightening, B.” You shot Chrissy a look, and she looked back at you apologetically.

“Whatever. I’m sure a guy will have the courage to ask you out one day.” Bianca shrugged and shut her magazine, stuffing it back into her bag. 

The bell rang just after that. You shoved your sketchbook into your bag once you closed it and got up, helping Chrissy up off the floor. Bianca had a problem with you since you joined the squad. Why? You had no idea. It wasn’t like you didn’t fit in. Did you act out of place? Sure. Occasionally. But you kept all of your music interests and everything else to yourself so as ‌to not be labeled a freak, so you could survive the rest of high school. Once you graduated though? You were outta here.

Chrissy and you broke off from the others to go to science class. You had biology together. “You ever think Bianca will get off my case?” You asked Chrissy as you walked into Mr.Hawthorns class together.

“I’m not even entirely sure what her issue is with you.” Chrissy admitted, sliding her bag off of her shoulder before sliding into her desk.

You slid into your seat beside her and sighed. “One day I’m gonna snap at her. I swear.” You grumbled, and Chrissy giggled.

“I mean, she does say everyone is afraid of you. Maybe she will be too. You are marked as the ‘mean cheerleader’.” Chrissy answered as she used air quotes when she called me the mean cheerleader.

“I just don’t like people. Especially people like Michael Barrows, who thought it was ok shoving his hand up my top.” You shrugged. You didn’t like our classmates. Except Chrissy. Somehow, her sunny disposition never bothered you. How? You weren't so sure. There were others whom you interacted with that barely bothered you. Robin Buckley was one, for example. You both had English class together and worked on projects together. She rambled, but she was nice.

A second before the bell rang, another figure walked into the classroom. Mr.Hawthorn shot the young man a look. A mop of brown curls nodded to Mr.Hawthorn before walking to the back of the classroom towards Chrissy and you. On Chrissy’s right the figure sat down heavily. Eddie Munson. Hawkins Highs resident Freak and leader of the Hellfire Club. A group of nerds and freaks, frankly. At least that has been what they said about them.

“Alright, listen up. Turn to page 87. We’re going over genetics today.” Mr.Hawthorn started writing on the blackboard.

You flipped to page 87 and took out your notebook to start your notes. Chrissy started doodling as Mr.Hawthorn spoke. You and Chrissy lived down the street from one another. You had been friends since middle school. It was only natural that in high school you stuck together. She had spent a number of nights in your house. Especially when she had wanted to get away from her mother. Her mom had a thing about Chrissy’s looks. You thought Chrissy looked beautiful. Perfect. What every girl wanted to look like. What you wish you looked like as Chrissy was a natural beauty. Just perfect features without even trying. Her mom always had something different to say. Chrissy spent a lot of time at your house, crying after her mom made a comment about how her cheer uniform fit or told her she couldn’t have a birthday cake that year. You guessed no matter what, you all had your pains. Your parents weren’t perfect either. You barely saw your dad. You guess you could thank him for what genetics he gave you. Your mom and you had one another when your dad wasn’t in town.

“Now, we’re going to have a project on genetics. And we’re gonna make it fun. So in here,” Mr.Hawthorn picked up a fishbowl he had on his desk. He smiled and shook the bowl, making all the folded pieces of paper inside move around. “I have the names of the gentlemen in this class. Ladies, you will pick a name from here and they will be your partner. You both will figure out genetically what your kids would look like. Tell us a bit about them. Get creative.” He announced and approached a girl in the first row with the bowl.

“Why can’t we just pick our own partners?” Sally asked and Mr.Hawthorn chuckled.

“Well, that makes it less interesting. This is more random like life would be.” He answered and moved on to the next girl.

Mr.Hawthorn got to the back row and held the bowl out to you. There were only four other pieces of paper in the bowl. You reached in and picked the first piece that touched your fingers. Mr.Hawthorn moved to Chrissy and held the bowl out to her. You unfolded your piece of paper and your heart sank. 

‘Eddie Munson’

You folded the piece of paper back up. Chrissy leaned over. “Who did you get?” she whispered and showed you her piece of paper. She got Patrick. At least he was her boyfriend's friend.

You looked at her and licked your lips. Then you looked past her. Your ‘partner’. Eddie was carving into the top of the desk with his pen, too busy to notice anything. You nodded at Eddie. Chrissy turned her head and stared at Eddie before quickly looking away before he could notice. This couldn’t be worse. She mouthed a ‘really?’ to you and you nodded. “Alright! Everyone has their partners. Girls, if you could read your picks aloud.” Mr.Hawthorn grabbed his clipboard he always wrote down group partners on. Oh, it could get worse! Each girl began naming the guy they were paired with. As it got closer to you, you began nervously chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Then it was your turn. You took a breath. “Eddie Munson.” You called, not looking at him at all. Immediately, a few snickers sounded in the classroom.

“Patrick McKinney!” Chrissy immediately called, trying to stop the reaction in the room. She knew how much you hated people laughing at you. You avoided any teasing, but something about people laughing at you just got to you worse. Being paired with Eddie didn’t help you hide away from everyone else and their teasing. You just had to get through this project.

Once every girl claimed their guy, Mr.Hawthorn smiled. “Alright, kids. You all have until next week to figure out your future kids' genetic makeup.” He announced, and a moment later, the bell rang. “Class dismissed. See you all tomorrow!”

You shoved your textbook into your bag and got up, following Chrissy towards the door. “Have fun with the freak.” Sally giggled as you both passed her. You shot her a look, and her smile faltered a bit. You grabbed Chrissy’s hand and tugged her out of the classroom. 

“This is humiliating.” You hissed, and Chrissy sighed.

“It isn’t that bad, Y/N!” She argued as you stopped at your locker. “It could be worse. Besides, Eddie has always been nice to the cheerleaders. He just doesn’t like Jason. Or the rest of the basketball team.” She laughed, leaning on the lockers as you opened yours and shoved your biology textbook into it. 

“You know, I worked hard to avoid teasing. Stay out of the spotlight! Stay away from being gossiped about and bullied.” You explained to Chrissy, and she nodded.

“I know, I know. But you aren’t a freak. You’re one of us.” She reassured you. 

A person walked close to you and Chrissy but before you could even realize it, you jumped from a loud noise behind your head. You turned to look at the figure looming over you. Eddie Munson stood there with a big, goofy smile on his face. His arm was behind your head with his hand resting on the locker beside yours, where he had just slammed it down onto the metal. “Ladies,” Eddie began, dropping his arm and stepping back to give you space.

“Munson.” You murmur, looking up at him.

“Hey,” Chrissy waved awkwardly.

“So, partner,” Eddie began, shoving his hands into his pockets. “When do you wanna work on this thing? I’m sure you wanna get this over with as quickly as I do?” He asked, rocking back and forward on his feet.

You looked at Chrissy and she grinned. “I’ll see you at lunch!” She cheerfully said and started backing away.

“No, no! Chrissy!” You hissed at her as she turned on her heel, green and white skirt swaying as she turned away and started down the hallway. You sighed and looked up at Eddie. Again, that smile. “Library. After school.” You murmured your instruction, turning to shove your locker door closed. 

“See you there.” Eddie agreed with a wink as you turned away from him and quickly walked away. Already, people were whispering in the hallways.

[alreadyblondenow]

Box of crayons

“We were just two kids back then, but now we have two kids.”

Pairing: Jaehyun x female!reader Genre: SMUT, FLUFF, angst if you squint, childhood friends to lovers, growing up au, college au, to being married. WC: 3,522k Warnings: mentions of getting bullied during kindergarten, alcohol consumption on a college party, getting drunk, swearing, spitting, oral sex: male and female receiving, slight cum play, overstimulation, fingering, cream pie, unprotected sex, switching positions, smut scene is kind of long. A/N: I just want to post something.

Meant to be. You and Jaehyun are meant to be. But not as lovers, at least not yet. For now, you believe that you and Jaehyun are meant to be best friends.

It all started when you saw him starring at his blank paper, close to tears while other kids are teasing him for not having a box of crayons. You came in bolting and scaring those kids with your wrath and told Jaehyun, “stop being such a loser,” and shared with him your box of crayons.

On the next day, you forgot your colors at home and you felt like such a loser because everyone was busy drawing and coloring their works while you’re stuck with this great idea in your mind for your artwork.

“Stop being such a loser,” Jaehyun said and sat beside you to share his box of colors with you this time.

That was the day you learned, at a very young age, that boxes of crayons that has a hundred colors are meant to be shared. You and Jaehyun became friends starting that day and your friendship became like a box of crayons that you’re willing to share with each other.

As long as you both have some colors left on your box, you’re willing to share and got each other’s back.

Your friendship grew and grew during kindergarten, grade school, and high school. Until your families acknowledged your friendship and thought that maybe someday you’ll end up together. On top of that, you and Jaehyun grew up together and watch each other achieve different kinds of great things. May it be through sports, academics, or your hobbies.

“Hey loser,” you sat beside him during lunch break and distract him from doing his assignment.

“Hey yourself” he smirked and continued writing.

It was a busy day in school, the student body organization was busy the whole week because of prom. And to be honest, you are too, you were busy with your dress and you were busy looking for the perfect tie for Jaehyun. And now, you’re just waiting for him to pop the question and finally ask you to prom, which he will because you’re best friend right? So that made you very excited and giddy.

“What do you think of Yeri?” He asked out of nowhere. Smiling and playing with his pen while waiting for your answer but you already felt nervous.

“Popular- She bullied you when we were kids? Why?” you answered short and cold. And you wonder why the man beside you is smiling like a fool.

“I’m taking her to prom, she said yes. It was yesterday in the library, I talked to her, and went straight to the point. I made her blush like crazy...” he proudly told you the story of how he asked someone else to prom but your ears started ringing and you can't hear anything he says already. Turns out when you were busy looking for the perfect tie for him yesterday, he was busy asking the girl he likes to prom.

Everything shifted after prom, you and Jaehyun stopped talking to each other but he was too busy with his new girlfriend to notice that.

Graduation came and summer took place, you and Jaehyun are going to the same college but now you’re not sure if he still wanted the same thing because rumors are he and Yeri are so in love that they will go to the same college. It's useless to reach out if life will eventually separate you and Jaehyun might as well accept it.

As you enter college and made great new friends, you forgot about Jaehyun and focus on your studies during freshman year. But during the start of your sophomore year and while you were at the library to borrow a few books you bumped into him and were forced to catch up and had coffee for old times sake. He paid for the drinks and snacks, obviously, he was happy to see you but you looked uninterested.

And when he noticed that he’s probably taking too much of your time, he finally started a conversation. “I transferred just this semester and I was actually looking forward to seeing you. How are you?”

“Great- look I have to study and I can’t be out this long, uhm...” you started to gather your stuff and ramble. “Maybe some other time Jae,” you said and left with a fake smile. You almost feel bad about what you did but he can’t just waltz back into your life like he didn’t forget about you the moment he had a girlfriend. Now ex-girlfriend.

And as your college years continue, a catch-up never happened again. Although he tried so many times to take you out, but you always refuse and avoid him with all your might whenever you see him around the campus. He was so consistent with bringing you back to his life but you just don’t care anymore because truth be told you were hurt when he left you. Maybe this is revenge? Maybe not? But one thing is for sure, you got hurt and you hated him for it.

Now that you’re in your senior and everything is very stressful, you decided to go to this party with your friends and you were so unlucky that Jaehyun was there with his set of friends, busy playing beer pong and being loud as fuck. Of course he saw you and it halted his moves, he wanted to come say hi to you or hand you a drink but you will for sure pretend that he is invisible so he didn’t.

The party was fun. Thankfully, there were a lot of snacks and overflowing alcoholic beverages as well as non-alcoholic beverages. And because you suck at drinking games, you were downing tequilas and vodkas the whole night and that’s how you got batshit drunk that Jaehyun found you on the bathroom inside the empty tub, sleeping like a baby with a red cup in your hand.

He knew right then and there that he is responsible for you.

“Y/n, it’s Jae. Can you walk?” he asked while patting your head softly. But you can’t talk right now, so you just shook your head ‘no’ and reached for him. You knew that it’s him and you can hear him perfectly but your brain is not working right and the room can’t stop spinning. And you can’t believe you’re saying this but you’re happy that he’s here to take care of you.

You had this same feeling when you forgot your crayons back then and he came to rescue you from your little situation. He’s the same Jaehyun after all.

He offered to drive you back to your dorm which you accepted without any argument, you could’ve thanked him if only you can talk properly. He was so concerned to you that he cleared the backseat of his car and let you lie there comfortably with his jacket covering your legs. And when he brought you to your dorm safely and in one piece, he can't just leave you sleeping with your dirty clothes and helped you clean yourself with closed eyes. Everything was a challenge for him, especially when he had to close his eyes before he removes your blouse, pants, unclasp your bra and make you wear something comfortable to sleep.

Jaehyun then pats your head softly and told you “I’ll get going then, good night” before he leaves and thankfully, you were quick to stop him and you had enough energy to tell him to stay. He smiled so big and felt so happy that he wanted to scream and jump around your room. But he controlled himself and removed his shoes before he lies beside you in your comfortable bed.

To his shock, you swing your arms around him and pulled him closer to you for a tight embrace that he eventually returned. Caressing your back as he melts to your embrace and enjoys the happiness that he’s feeling right now.

“I’m sorry,” he started and planted a kiss on your forehead.

“I missed you. Never hurt me again like that, Jaehyun I swear-“

“Shhh. I will never do that to you again,” he said and hummed a song oh so softly until you fall asleep together and meet in each other’s dreams.

Just as you thought that your friendship will never come back, it did and this time it came back with love. But even though that this time love is around to make you two stick together, you never admitted your feelings to each other. You just let your actions do the talking. From him holding your hand during a scary Netflix movie, to you holding his hand while he drives. It was a simple and comfortable ‘relationship’ and you wish he would make it official.

But during a beautiful rainy day when you and Jaehyun decided to stay at your place and enjoy the cold bed weather together instead of going to the movies... everything suddenly fell into place.  

“Mmm. Feels good” Jaehyun moaned as you concentrate on lining the face mask on his face properly. You’re sitting comfortably on top of him, your legs placed on both of his sides, while he’s leaning on your headboard with closed eyes, feeling so relaxed as you pamper him with skincare.

“Stop moaning, my dorm mates might think we're having sex,” you giggle and rake his hair away from his covered face. Holding it nicely as you lean closer to his chest to enjoy the comfort of being on top of him.

“Comfortable?” he asked and placed his hands on your back and made you lean on him completely. He started caressing your back and his soft touches are making you sleepy. You may not know, but he’s very much in love with you and that he will do everything just to keep you this time. He’s just waiting for the perfect time to admit his feelings to you and make everything official.

“Okay times up,” you excitedly said and started removing the face mask. While wiping his clear and handsome face, you see redness on his cheeks and his ears are turning red. You smiled and let out a giggle because that only means Jaehyun is flustered right now.

“Can you blame me? You’re so close to me and you’re literally on top of my dick. Don’t make fun of me if I get hard,” he said with a shy smile. Eyes turning into crescents and his cute dimples are deeper than ever. So instead of making him shy, you decided to make him nervous by grinding on him slowly but with enough pressure to make him in the mood and hard in no time.

His eyes went big when you rolled your hips once. Then it became even bigger when you rolled your hips a few times again which made him tensed up and hold his breath. “Stop it,” he said, but with a smile, that’s so big. He’s completely aware that you’re teasing him.

“But do you really want me to stop?” you said and put more effort into what you’re doing to him. Grinding slowly and deliciously, rolling your head and parting your lips. But the thing is, you’re not acting anymore. Jaehyun does feel so good right now and you’re liking what you started. And now that you’re letting out small moans, Jaehyun came close to you and caught your lips. Holding your head steady and kissing you like how he always wanted to.

“If you don’t stop now, I’ll really, really, really take advantage of this moment,” he said and went back to kissing you. A mixture of happiness and lust and you both feel like your hearts are about to burst because of what's happening right now. Kissing each other while smiling in between, kissing each other even more deeper by every second. It’s like your kisses were saying, ‘i love you’ ‘no, i love you more’. And as you two are busy with your lips, you felt Jaehyun’s hands slip inside your shirt and draw small circles on your skin while kissing as if he wanted you to lift your shirt but he’s just too shy to tell you. So without any warning, you stopped kissing him only to remove your shirt and remove your bra in front of him.

This may not be Jaehyun’s first time seeing a naked girl in front of him, but you sure did make him shy that he avoided looking at you. Flashing those dimples again, and witnessing his ears turn bright red. Brighter than ever. “Stop being shy and touch me,” you command and put your hand on his nape and reached for his other hand to place it on your shoulder. Giving him the freedom to touch you and roam his hand around your body as you continue to grind your clothed pussy on his hard dick.

Soon his hand finally started to move, touching your boobs first and kneading them slowly and carefully until Jaehyun became comfortable and confident to request that you remove your shorts too. Which you did gladly, so now you’re left with only your panties, kissing Jaehyun on the neck and making the man moan and feel good. Lifting his shirt without any hesitation and exposing his very hot body before your eyes and left kisses on it immediately.

Kisses after kisses you made him weak until you reach his sweat pants and pull it down together with his boxers brief so you can plant kisses on his happy trail, lower abdomen, and finally his hard cock. And there it is again, his handsome dimpled smile that shows his shyness. His cock twitched when your cold hands made contact with his cock, pumping it slowly while you watch him close his eyes and roll his head back. He watched you spit on his cock, and slowly put his whole size in your mouth. Gripping the sheets as he loses his mind, gripping the sheets as he breathes in and out heavily, letting out deep groans and making sweet moans.

“Y/n, s-stop. I’m about to cum,” he pleaded but you didn’t stop. Instead, you moved your head even faster, worked with your tongue, and made sure to never let him forget this moment that his whole cock is in your mouth for the first time.

After a few minutes of pleasure, Jaehyun came into your mouth and you witnessed him shaking and moaning on your bed with a satisfied smile. Still, with a sensitive body, you lay on top of him and teased him from cumming so soon. “You’re dead,” he said and smiled so sweetly at you. Encircling his arms around your body and kissing you a couple of times before he changed places with you. Finally, removing your panties and making you spread your legs for him, holding you with utmost care and kissing you with a mixture of love and lust.

If you tortured him earlier with your trail of kisses on his body, now it’s Jaehyun’s turn to torture you with him kissing your inner thighs oh so softly that it sends tingles straight to your spine and making your legs close automatically. “Uh-uh, I endured everything you did to me earlier,” he said, teasing you before he slides his fingers up and down your slit and finally licking it slowly. Spitting on your cunt just how you spit on his dick earlier and started pleasuring you with his hot tongue. Your hand automatically landed on his head, gripping his soft locks as he licks you slowly and torturing you with that damn wet muscle.

And when he finally made you cum and had his sweet revenge, he kissed you all over your body and put his entire weight on top of you. Letting your nipples brush on his chest and his hand soothe your sensitive body.

It was quiet for a moment, and only your heavy breaths can be heard in your room besides the air conditioning. He nibbles your earlobes and spreads kisses on your neck while slightly grinding his hard cock on your very wet pussy, waiting for you to calm down so he can finally fuck you.

“I was planning to take you out on a proper date first before we go to this stage. You just have to be so impatient, huh?” he shook his head in disbelief and kissed your lips again before he pulls away, putting both his hands on the sides of your head. His cock was very hard that you almost thought it wouldn’t fit, “Don’t worry you’re so wet. It will slide in easily” he said before he told you to line his cock so he can finally push in.

Slowly he stretches you out, rolling his head back and so are his eyes, while you on the other hand grip your boobs knead them as you feel Jaehyun’s cock slide in and out. “Jaehyun, deeper-“ you requested and let out a moan that made him gave in to your request. He adjusts your position, folded your knee before he spreads you open, thrusting deeper than before that his lower abdomen touches yours. Losing your mind whenever you take a peek at the motion of his hips while fucks you, Jaehyun was so hot as he moves his waist and kept his eyes only to you, this time he’s the one making you feel so shy.

“You like it this way? Deep and slow?" you only nod, “Wanna go another round after this?” you smiled and nod again, “Do you love me?”

And then he started thrusting faster and harder that your body was dragged on the mattress, and your boobs are bouncing up and down because of his hard thrust. Jaehyun came close to you for a kiss, still waiting for your answer. Although he knew already that you do love him by the way you kiss him, still he needed to hear it from you. “I want to hear it Y/n,” Jaehyun pleaded again and hold on to your waist tightly as he fucks you harder than before.

“I do Jae- fuck, slow down. Almost there” you croaked but its too late, Jaehyun’s thumb is on your clit, ready to torture you again and make you cum for the second time tonight.

Locking your legs around his waist as you enjoy your high and oversensitivity, you didn’t expect that you’d ask for more and beg for more the moment you hit your high that Jaehyun got more excited that he almost forgot to pull out. And when he did, he came on your pussy lips, watching his cum paint your wet folds and throbbing cunt. Of course the man above you isn’t satisfied with all the torture he did tonight, so he slides his fingers on your cunt, playing with his own cum and finger fucked you to give you another mind blowing orgasm.

The eventful bed weather ended with you and Jaehyun cuddling in your bed with his hands on your thigh and you’re wearing nothing but his black shirt and a pair of panties while he stays handsome and so irresistible in his boxers briefs.

“I promise to love you,” he whispered to you while drawing small and soft circles on your thighs, his eyes never left yours. “I promise to stay even though you’re so stubborn,” he added which made you giggle and happy.

FIVE YEARS LATER

During a very quiet night where Jaehyun’s hands are intertwined with yours and his embrace was tighter than ever because he was really tired from work, Jaehyun was having a cute dream. He dreamt about how you saved him from the bullies back when you were only innocent kids. He was smiling through his dream until he hears a cry. A cry of an infant and opened his eyes immediately. You stopped him from getting up and told him, “I got it Jae, go sleep. You’ve been up the whole day,”

Jaehyun has become a great provider for your small family now. And he was working hard to the bone that he barely gets enough sleep during weekdays. “Thank you,” murmured and closed his hands again. And after you put your babies to sleep again and went back to Jaehyun’s embrace, Jaehyun was deep in his sleep that he’s sleep talking and murmuring sweet nothings, the kind where you only hear whenever you have slow sex.  

“We were just two kids back then, but now we have two kids. I will buy them boxes of boxes of crayons so bullies will never touch them,”

You giggle and pulled him closer. Hoping that he will ramble more because he’s so cute right now. “I love you,” you said, you weren’t expecting something in return but he responded.

“I just realized I never thanked you for sharing your crayons with me back then, thank you” he said and opened his eyes and went on top of you to kiss you sincerely. His wife. “I love you”  

[writerthreads]

How ~aesthetic~ is boarding school? Answering your questions about boarding in the UK

By Writerthreads on Instagram

Since writing about boarding school is suddenly a big thing, a few weeks ago, I asked for your questions about boarding school in the UK. And now, I'm going to answer the most common questions, and most importantly, how aesthetic or dark academia is it? Inspired by @nyxiewrites' post from December. (She goes to the same school as me lol)

Boarding life/drama

Buildings and facilities

My school might be different, but half of our buildings are properly old (like Harry Potter) and half of our buildings are super modern (like MIT). Our older buildings are getting knocked down, though. Our facilities are very modern, and we're required to use a touchscreen laptop or iPad to take notes and do homework. Teachers teach using whiteboards and interactive whiteboards, definitely not chalkboards. However, this totally depends on your fictional school, and it can be as modern or as old fashioned as you like.

Our school painfully blocks a ton of websites and apps like Netflix, Amazon and Instagram and makes pictures and messages load very slowly. Some websites only "come back" at 4 pm after school, or if you're a sixth form student and you can log in to a firewall disabler.

Are there any secret passageways?

If there are any, I'm not aware of them. I do know some shortcuts to different places, though, like cutting through certain rooms to get to the dining hall faster, they're not that significant or mysterious. But I wish there were secret passageways, though. If you're writing about an old boarding school, please please add some secret passageways for funsies.

Housing

At my school, there are full boarders, weekly boarders who go home on weekends, and day kids (they go home after school). All students are assigned to a house, which is either a day or boarding house. For reference, my school has fourteen houses, each with an obscure name like "Fenwick" and "Durnford" (well to be fair we have houses very creatively called "School" and "Head's". All hoses are single-sex, apart from one co-ed house. Unless your fictional boarding school is uber-modern, I think keeping your rooming situations single-sex is the way to go.

Showers are either in cubicles in a shower room or in separate bathrooms with a toilet and sink, depending on your boarding house.

Friends and places to hang out

Making friends is super easy if you're boarding and you can get close with them very quickly because you're literally stuck with them 24/7. We like to hang out in the common room (like the ones in Harry Potter) and kitchen. Our boarding house is the only house in school that has its own cinema room so we watch Netflix there too (which is a major flex).

We're allowed to go within an area outside school consisting of three streets that has a few coffee shops, a few corner shops and a Co-Op. To go out, you'll have to sign out or text whoever's on duty (a teacher from your house). On Friday nights and weekends, boarders can go to town or even up to London to watch a movie or go shopping. I think these rules can easily be found in other boarding schools in the UK.

Formal events

We don’t have prom, but we do have charity balls, special dinners, and graduation in Year 13. School food suddenly becomes quite good, and people get tipsy and sing and dance to performances like any other high school formal event.

Drinking

My school gives one glass of red/white wine or a bottle of beer during formal events, but I think over 18s can get refills(?). I’ve heard of other schools in the UK that sell beer or give out beer on Saturdays but my school doesn’t do that.

Food

School food is fine. It's not great, but it's not horrible either. We do have a lot of food options, though, and we get international cuisine once in a while. On Friday nights and weekends, we can get takeaway or go out for food.

Going home

Weekly boarders go home on Friday night or Saturday, and full boarders stay until half-term, term break or the summer holidays. We have one half-term break every term that is two weeks long and a month-long term break between two terms. The summer holidays is two months.

Drama

When you have a bunch of hormonal kids living together for the majority of the year, there's bound to be an endless supply of tea. They're all rather tame, and you're definitely not getting huge things like student murders and coded messages in library books.

Sneaking out

This is possible but hard. We're supposed to be back in house by 5:30 for registration, and back by 9 pm on weekends. The doors in our houses are alarmed and will go off if opened after 10:45 or later, depending on your house. Houses have passcodes and CCTV cameras, and entering and leaving school requires a fingerprint scan. This goes to show that security is quite high, so sneaking out is hard but definitely not impossible.

Quality of education

In my opinion, I think coming here is the best decision I have ever made. Boarding school makes you independent, and depending on the school, the quality of teaching and facilities is much higher than I could've ever imagined. I've noticed that the students who have been at this school for a long time are all quite confident, articulate and intelligent, or that could also be because our school is a highly-selective one that picks out the top kids from the UK and around the world.

The learning facilities are amazing. For example, you can request a book that the school library doesn't have and the book will arrive in less than a week for you to read, for free. We also have lots of different extension clubs and societies to join that help you find your interests and make you good at what you want to be good at, you know?

Before I came to this school I was considered, I think, maybe one of the best kids in our year, academically?? Or at least one of the more academic kids. Here, I would be average at best. Almost 50% of my cohort got nine 9s in their GCSEs last year (nine A*s). This goes to show how academically rigorous my school is, and the same goes for the "top" boarding schools in the UK.

Rich kid school??

Boarding school can be free or very expensive, depending on what school you go to. In my case, the school fees are pretty high, so unless you're on an academic or sports scholarship, you have to be middle-class to attend. If you're writing about a fancy school, expect the characters to generally be from middle to high class, even noble families. However, apart from one or two exceptions, the kids here are generally nice and definitely won't look down on you if you're not well-off. They won't care lol. However some schools are more famous for having more uppity Tories (cough cough Eton) who are generally more conservative and have giant superiority complexes lol.

Uniforms

Students have to wear school uniforms unless they're in the sixth form, and they have to wear suits. The lower sixth (year 12) students wear matching, dark-coloured suits, while the upper sixth can wear any suit (non-matching if they want) as long as it looks "business-like".

How dark academia is it?

The suits are very dark academia, especially when paired with sweaters and loafers. The chapel, the quad and our buildings, especially the exteriors, give off major Harry Potter/dark academia vibes, and so does the dining hall (if you ignore the juice and milk dispenser with "The White Stuff" in big bold letters. I'm not kidding.)

I think I've answered all of the questions I was asked back in the Q&A. If you have any more questions, lmk in the comments below! If you want to learn more about boarding school, search up a famous boarding school’s name on Google and go to their official website or Wikipedia page to learn more :)

[full---ofstarlight]

wip wednesday!!!!!

almost forgot bc my day has been pretty meh so far but !! introducing some hawkins high ocs to flesh out everything lmao

tldr; a canon divergent eddie x chrissy au where everyone who died in stranger things season 4 comes back to life post whatever the fuck happens in s5, that is actually mostly an angsty normal people-esque summer after high school story with the added complication that both parties died and came back to life and are unpacking that 

“I don’t think Matt Hopkins wants me at his graduation party.”

Matt Hopkins is — well, was — the captain of the football team, and if the football team had been good enough to go to states, then maybe it would’ve been Matt Hopkins who led an angry mob against Eddie for killing his girlfriend. Or not! Claire Clarke is way straight-laced and probably would never ask Eddie for drugs. But then again, Eddie once thought that about Chrissy Cunningham, and now he’s glancing across the crowds of people trying to covertly see if she’s looking for him. 

“Ugh, what else are you doing tonight?” Robin wrinkles her brows together, not bothering to hide the judgment on her face. “Sitting alone at home and watching another movie? You might as well get some free booze. You finally graduated! Get some free booze out of it.” 

She has a point. Being alone the night he graduates would be totally depressing. He could  hang out with the band, or with the Hellfire Club, but also he did just finally fucking graduate. He deserves free booze.

And besides, Matt Hopkins is talking to Jason Carver right now, and Jason Carver has his arm around Chrissy. 

He doesn’t know what it is about Chrissy Cunningham that’s got him all wound up like this. He still feels guilty, probably. For not saving her. For letting her die. For just running away and then for not running away and dying like a dog in the streets. That’s it. That’s probably it. 

He’s not thinking about her laugh in the woods that day, or the way she looked at him with those big blue eyes. He’s not thinking about the drive to his trailer, how his chest tightened when they both reached for the stereo knob and their hands accidentally brushed. He’s not thinking about that night at Rosie’s after prom, and how beautiful she looked in that dirty back alley, with the light shining around her like she was an elven princess. 

Nope. Not at all. 

“Fine. Fine!” Eddie throws up his hands. “I’ll go — for the free booze, not because I’m a loser like you or Byers.”

[ironicsopsychotic]

First Line Tag Game! Rules: List the first lines of the last ten stories you published (or works in progress if you’re feeling brave lol). Look to see any patterns you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any!

okay imma thank you first (i love this game omg) and say that i WANTED to be ambitious and do both published fics and wips, but i started on wips first and this is long af. so here we are. over half are hoa fics but i threw in some random oneshots for other fandoms.

[10 WORKS IN PROGRESS]

#1 the hard part (hoa; 03. in neddie au series)

Two days. Two days after Amber gave the breakup news, two days of incredibly uncomfortable Sibuna meetings, two days of Eddie blatantly lying to himself that ending their whole tryst wasn't a big deal. Two days of all of that, and then Nina sent him to the clearing in the woods for a solo mission but showed up five minutes after he did.

Two days, and she told him that waiting for things to cool down wasn't cutting it for her. He took in her words slowly, but he took them in, and he took in the meeting place, and then he took her in.

#2 golden opportunity (hoa; jeroy college au)

It's the day after sophomore finals week ends and Joy honestly has to wonder how the fuck Mick convinced everyone to go out drinking in celebration. Drinking itself is fine; drinking with Mick at the helm is a lot like trying to swim upstream without a paddle. No good could possibly come from it.

#3 i summoned you (hoa; nina&eddie time loop s2 finale au)

Nina doesn't remember events normally when Senkhara's using her.

The mask is like a film over her eyes, everything distorted just enough that she doesn't feel like herself. She knows what she's doing when she pushes the mask into her skin, but the moments after shift into slow motion, a nightmare she can't stop.

#4 the hookup (hoa; jamber college au)

Try as he might, Jerome Clarke could not, with whatever remnants of a conscience he had left, claim he didn't know who she was.

#5 definition of an extended play (btr; kucy college soulmate au)

The first time he met Lucy Stone, he figured some part of his soul just knew, even without the mark.

His head's the one that has some catching up to do.

#6 exile (good witch; nace post-s5 finale)

Smiling up at her onstage giving her graduation speech is the very least he can do. He can smile, and clap, and even cheer like all the cheesy coming-of-age movies she'd made him watch over the years.

What he can't do is gather her up in his arms afterward. He can't press a kiss to her temple, congratulating her with words but also with every single love language there is. He can't hold her hand as they all go out to eat before heading back to Grey House for their joint grad party. He can't look her in the eyes and revel in the fact that she knows everything he's feeling, and that she feels it too.

He can't do any of that, so he smiles and hopes it's enough to tide him over.

It isn't.

#7 new place, same feeling (supah ninajs; amanda/flint post-s2)

Spending the summer away from Empire City and the dojo was kind of fucking with her.

#8 road trip to your heart (spooksville; adally +watch road trip)

It starts like this:

road trip. u me and watch.

be seen in public w you? oh hell nah

i'm serious

so am i ;)

adam.

senior year.

senior prom.

you need an opportunity to step up your game before you ask me to it, and i'm more than happy to give you that chance.

#9 it's a wedding, not the end of the world (hoa; after anubis series, jeroy wedding)

kindly join us for

the wedding of

JEROME CLARKE & JOY MERCER

5:00pm | July 31st | Calderstone Park: Ornamental Garden

~lil skip ahead of a joy, patricia, willow, & kt group chat~

[willow] you don't have to worry about a thing, joy!

this'll be the best wedding ever!

[kt] agreed! :)

[patricia] sit back and relax, we've got this

five months later...

"Holy shit, we don't got this."

Alfie kept his face smushed on the outside of the leaning cake box and breathed out harshly. "A little HELP??"

#10 in more ways than one (hoa; neddie s2 soulmate au)

Nina spent the morning after Senkhara marked Amber feeling braindead and searching for long socks.

She felt helpless. She couldn't help getting marked herself; she barely cared about that anymore. Besides Victor seeing it and the occasional burn, it wasn't too bad. Sometimes she could even pretend this was just another fun mystery like the beginning of the previous year. But then Fabian lied to her, he got a mark himself, and she realized that, yet again, she couldn't protect anyone. She couldn't even protect herself against Rufus in their final showdown--Jerome had thrown the flies.

so the trend i'm seeing here is i like starting w a (hopefully) intriguing hook, usually just one line. i try to make it at least a little ominous yet simultaneously all-encompassing of what the fic's about. but i already kinda knew that, so lemme know if you see any other trends? and if you wanna do this game, i tag you! :)

[oh-hey-big-zam]

Gotta take a little time

Post summary: Eddie Munson knows his place in the high school hierarchy. So when he finds a note in his locker from the new head cheerleader asking to meet after school, he can't imagine what might lay in store for him.

Pairing: Chrissy Cunningham/Eddie Munson

Word count: 23K

Content warnings: Slight self-harm, verbal and physical parental abuse, explicit sexual content, Vecna being a dick

When Eddie Munson, still groggy from his nap in calculus class, opened his locker to see a neatly folded piece of notebook paper that had been slipped inside, he expected the usual not-so-anonymous insult from the ruling class of Hawkins High.

Freak. Trash. Criminal.

He sighed, debating just tossing it into a nearby trashcan. Something made him hesitate though; maybe it was the way the scraggly little bits of paper on the left side had been carefully cut away. Why would someone who wanted to throw one of their usual insults at him go through all that trouble, he wondered. He shrugged slightly and unfolded it, seeing a message written in looping cursive.

Hi Eddie,

This is Chrissy Cunningham. I'm a senior here at Hawkins, the head cheerleader in fact! Maybe you know that already, although I don't see you at too many games. We kind of knew each other a while ago but it looks like we have different friend groups these days.

Holy shit, little miss perfect was slipping him a note at his locker? Of course he knew who she was; even someone who had no interest in the local teen royalty couldn't help but notice who the newest top dogs were. Word around the lunch tables was that she was dating that chode Jason Carver. God-fearing, all-American daddy's boy who wouldn't know an original thought if it came up and bit him. What the hell was she doing slipping notes to Eddie of all people? 'Different friend groups' was putting it mildly. It was more like different worlds.

This is kind of, ok really, awkward, especially to bring up to someone I haven't talked to in years, but I've been having a lot of trouble lately. Like, mentally. I promise I'm not a basket case, it's probably just stress. You know, graduation and prom coming up, college applications. It's probably nothing. But I keep seeing stuff out of nowhere in the middle of the day. Like, having visions? Stuff with like my parents and things my mom used to say to me. It's hard to explain and I don't want to get into it. I haven't been able to sleep much, and I keep getting these insane headaches out of nowhere. And nosebleeds. Like I said, it's probably just stress. But this is different somehow. It's like nothing I've ever felt before. I've spent a long time learning to deal with that stuff. Memories I can't erase. But it's like all of a sudden nothing seems to work. Like everything is laid bare. And I don't know what to do.

Eddie stopped, feeling a twinge of sympathy in his gut. Jesus, the poor girl. He knew what it was like to have thoughts you couldn't shake, but this seemed a bit beyond the pale. Why didn't she talk to her boyfriend about this stuff?

I know what you might be thinking, Eddie. I have an awesome boyfriend, right? Why don't I go to him with these thoughts and feelings? And I guess I could, but something tells me he wouldn't understand. See, he's kind of old school. He doesn't really believe in anything, apart from God and football and family and all that. If I told him about this, he'd either have me put in a straight jacket or have someone pray over me.

What I'm getting at is, I think I need something to take the edge off. Take my mind off all this stuff. Someone on the cheer squad told me you sold her brother weed and acid last year. I don't really know about all that to be honest. I keep hearing all these stories about people taking acid and then jumping out of a five story window. I don't know if that's true, but maybe weed would be ok. A lot of people smoke weed and don't go crazy, right? At least, that's what I'm trying to avoid. The last thing I want would be to lose everything I finally got this year just because I can't handle a little stress. I have some money I can give you. If you're interested, maybe we can meet at the picnic table behind the parking lot at 3:30? I mean, I don't know if you have plans or how all this works. I'll be there in any case. Thanks again for reading all this, if you made it this far. See you soon. :)

Eddie leaned back against his locker, feeling a little stunned. His head was spinning with a myriad of thoughts. Namely: Chrissy knew he was, well enough to know he was the local dealer; her enviable boyfriend was apparently incapable of providing emotional support in her time of need; and lastly, sweet innocent Chrissy wanted to buy weed from him after school today. He looked around, wondering if he was getting pranked by the basketball team, or maybe this was part of a very targeted sting operation. Was Chrissy a cop? Was it possible she was just walking around with a gun and badge in her cheerleading uniform?

“Yo Eddie, you coming to lunch?”

He looked up, mouth still hanging slightly open. Dustin and Mike were standing in front of him, both decked out in Hellfire shirts and watching him expectantly.

“Uhh...yeah. Give me, uh, give me a minute and I'll meet you guys at our table.”

The two younger boys exchanged a brief look and began walking towards the lunch room. Eddie felt his face heat up all of a sudden, like he'd been caught looking at something he shouldn't. What was wrong with him? So some not-so-innocent cheerleader wanted to buy weed from him with daddy's allowance. It was nothing new. Not all of his clients were male; there were a fair few girls who came to him periodically, some of them awkwardly flirting with him in hopes of a discounted sale. He didn't think too much of it; he was hardly the type any girl would want to publicly go out with. Certainly not Chrissy Cunningham. Just this year, she had been made head cheerleader after gunning for it for ages, and she had snagged the hottest guy in school. Although clearly not the most emotionally intelligent.

He thought again of the forlorn little smiley face at the end of her note. After reading what came before it, about her awful visions and looming breakdown, that smiley face seemed so sad he almost wanted to cry. He felt an awful memory of his own creep in, of a middle school talent show gone awry.

Fuck.

He shook his head; nope, he would not be thinking of that today, thank you very much. He would sell the weed to the head cheerleader, and he would be a perfect businessman, and that would be the end of it. No lingering memories of a middle school crush, no feeling sorry for the girl. She had more of a support network than he did, he was sure. What was he doing feeling bad for someone who had everything anyways? He scoffed and shoved the note in his back pocket; he grabbed the latest Newsweek out of his locker and slammed it shut with finality.

–

Standing about 20 feet behind him at her own locker, a girl with reddish-blonde hair slowly lowered the book she had been hiding behind. She bit her lip anxiously, wondering if this was the worst idea she'd ever had. Her boyfriend came up behind her, gently yanking her ponytail. “Hey, Chrissy.”

She spun around, jumpy and startled. “Oh, Jesus – sorry, you scared me,” Chrissy said, laughing nervously.

Jason smiled indulgently. “Sorry, babe. You just seemed so lost in thought I figured I'd come save you.”

Yes, god forbid I have a minute to myself to think.

She forced a pained smile onto her face. “How was Carver's class?”

Jason rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed with his English teacher.

“Oh, you know, Jay Gatsby is in love with Daisy and stares at the green light all night, blah blah. The only thing I'm getting from that stupid book is that her husband should have decked this guy in the face a long time ago.”

Chrissy forced a laugh.

Isn't Great Gatsby a tenth-grade book? Do they really let the basketball team get that far behind in academics?

Jason smiled at her. “Hey, let's grab lunch before all the good stuff gets taken.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and led her onward; she surreptitiously glanced just once at Eddie's locker as they headed up the hallway.

At 3:30 exactly, Eddie sauntered towards the splintery picnic table that had been the site of many clandestine deals over his extended time at the school. He couldn't remember ever being so punctual; it wasn't that he meant to keep people waiting, necessarily; although he did get a certain satisfaction from seeing someone waiting at the table, fidgeting with anticipation. Apart from D&D, it felt like the only moments in his life where his efforts were really and truly appreciated, even if only by the nature of addiction. Those stuffed shirts at Newsweek who railed against roleplaying games would shit themselves if they knew how many teenagers in quaint little Indiana were into the really hard stuff. As he walked up to the usual spot, he saw something that really shouldn't have bothered him, but for some reason made his blood run a little cold. Chrissy was standing facing away from the table, staring at a fixed point in front of her. He nudged reluctantly closer to her, arms crossed in front of himself protectively. As he drew nearer, he saw a stiff and horrified expression on her face. This was definitely not someone just daydreaming or lost in thought. It was more like someone seeing war flashbacks.

“Chrissy?”

She gasped as if she had been drowning for several minutes and was only now breaching water.

“Oh, god! S-sorry, you came up so suddenly.”

Eddie backed away and put up his arms in exaggerated fashion, hoping to put her at ease.

“It's cool, I'm not packing heat or anything.”

Chrissy gave a slightly confused but polite smile and said nothing.

Boy, this is going well.

He cleared his throat and swung his legs over the picnic bench seat to sit in his usual spot. Chrissy still stood where he had found her, hands twisting together anxiously and looking lost. God, she couldn't be any more out of her depth. What the hell is she going through to make herself do this?

Eddie waved a hand in front of the table, trying to be welcoming. “Please, enter my office.”

“Right.” Chrissy took a few hesitant steps forward and sat across from him.

“Uh, so you wanted weed, right? What are we talking exactly? A ten-sack? A couple of joints? I can roll them for you if you want, no extra charge. Since, you know, I assume you've literally never done this before.”

Chrissy smiled but still looked on the verge of crying. “Um...yeah, you know, whatever you...usually do, I guess.”

Eddie gave a small sigh, tapping his fingers on his lunchbox full of paraphernalia.

“I'm sorry,” she choked out suddenly. “I don't mean to be...like, stupid with this stuff or waste your time. I just don't know like...what a ten-sack is?”

Eddie shook his head. “Sorry, I'm not annoyed with you, Chrissy. I'm mostly just sitting here wondering what, or who, you're doing this for. Be honest with me, please. Is your boyfriend making you buy him weed? Is he too afraid that it'll ruin his frigging basketball scholarship or that the local church leaders will find out and excommunicate his sorry ass?”

“No!” she said loudly and with some desperation. “No, it's nothing like that, please...” Now she really did start to cry, not dramatically but as quietly as she could, holding a fist over her mouth as tears streaked slowly down her face.

Fuck.

Eddie couldn't believe his own assholishness in that moment. He had been so concerned with shitting on Jason and assuming the worst that he had made a girl cry, a girl who was clearly going through a fucking hard time. He had never been good at comforting people, especially when it counted most. Not knowing what else to do, he stood up and sat next to Chrissy, gingerly putting an arm around her. As soon as he did so, he felt sure she would push him away, call him a fucking creep, then run to Jason and get him to beat the hell of Eddie. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, sobbing brokenly into his neck.

Oh.

Eddie gently rubbed the girl's upper back, hoping it was what she needed. He had never found himself in this particular position before; he wasn't normally the type people went to as a shoulder to literally cry on. He hoped like hell no one else at Hawkins came out here at this particular moment. After a few minutes, Chrissy's sobs were depleted and she heaved a sigh. He expected her to lurch away as soon as she was done crying, but she stayed nestled in his neck, trying to breathe evenly again. His mind raced for a comforting word or two and came up empty.

“Sorry I, uh, didn't bring any tissues, but you can use my sleeve if you want.”

Chrissy laughed raggedly; Eddie felt an odd relief tug at this heart. She backed away slightly, still sitting nearer to him than he would have expected.

“I'm so sorry, Eddie, I don't know why I'm acting like this. I just really haven't been myself lately, I haven't been sleeping...”

“Hey, it's ok,” he gently told her. “You don't have to worry about anything right now, just...breathe.”

Chrissy nodded, wiping her eyes with her cardigan sleeves. Eddie couldn't believe how small and broken she looked in that moment. She was all confidence and smiles when doing cheer routines and walking the halls with her conventional friends and parent-approved boyfriend. What must she be going through to make her so desperately sad and scared?

“Ok, uh...I think we should get ice cream,” he ventured suddenly.

She looked up, bemused. “Ice cream?”

“Yeah, you know, my mom used to say there's no trouble on earth that can't be assuaged by getting some ice cream.”

She wrapped her sweater tighter around herself and looked into the distance. “You know, I haven't had ice cream in like, six months.”

“Six months?!”

“Yeah, you know, ever since I joined the squad, all the other girls talk about is how much they love plain chicken and barfing up every other meal.”

Eddie grimaced sympathetically. “Well...if you want plain chicken, I'm sure that can be arranged.”

Chrissy scoffed, looking disgusted. “No, you're right. Ice cream would be fucking...great right now. A big-ass scoop of strawberry with sprinkles.”

Eddie smiled; it was the first time he had ever heard her swear, and he saw it as a good sign. He nodded his head towards the parking lot.

“Then let's hit the road.”

The two teens sat in Eddie's van, parked in the lot of the local Dairy Queen. Eddie could remember when they built this place a few years ago, ousting the local mom and pop ice cream shop that had stood for 26 years. His friends had waited in line all night and swarmed the store upon opening; he guessed that was what passed for excitement in Hawkins, Indiana. He was working his way through an Oreo blizzard, while Chrissy took delicate bites of her strawberry cone next to him. She looked ecstatically happy compared to earlier; he guessed he would be too if he had ice cream for the first time in six goddamn months.

“Ok, Three's Company or Who's the Boss?” Eddie inquired.

“Hmm...my parents never let me watch Three's Company, so I guess Who's the Boss is better by default.”

“They didn't let you watch it?”

“No,” she giggled. “They thought it was inappropriate because it was, like, a single guy living with two single girls, and they were always going on dates and stuff.”

“...So?”

She shrugged. “Well, the whole situation kind of lends itself to innuendo, don't you think?”

Eddie laughed. “Your parents seem to think John Ritter was having an orgy with the girls every other episode. Although I definitely would have paid more attention to the storylines if that was the case.”

Chrissy smiled into her ice cream, blushing suddenly. Eddie, feeling a touch devious, decided to push his luck. “Anyways, I always liked Chrissy better.”

She looked up at him. “What?”

“You know, Chrissy, the blonde girl played by Suzanne Somers. Although Janet's pretty cute too.”

“Oh, right. I didn't actually know the names of the characters. Since I didn't watch the show and all.”

“Oh, yeah. Duh.”

“Do you, um, like blondes?” she asked, raising her eyes towards his.

“I, uh...don't really have a preference, honestly.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, nineteen year old virgins can't really afford to be picky.”

Chrissy stifled a laugh. “Oh my god.”

Eddie grinned, hoping he wasn't crossing any lines. “Sorry, that was...maybe a little too personal.”

“No, it's okay,” she said, thankfully not seeming too horrified. “You know, there's nothing wrong with still being a virgin. It's like, we have our whole lives ahead of us, you know?”

“Do you believe in that whole..” he gestured vaguely around. “No sex before marriage, make sure you're with the guy you want to spend your life with and have babies thing?”

Chrissy gave a slight shrug. “I don't know, honestly. On some level I do, but it didn't really work out that well for my parents.”

“Well, what about Jason? I assume he believes in all that stuff.”

She pressed her lips together. “I don't really want to talk about him, honestly.”

“Sorry, I don't mean to-”

“No, it's just...yeah, maybe we're not totally compatible, like he's somehow still at a tenth-grade reading level even though he has a college scholarship for next year. And maybe he believes in some things I don't, but like...I don't know. He's safe. He has a great family, and he's going to school at Indiana State to be an engineer, and maybe if I just stay pretty and don't question him too much, I can get out of here too.”

Eddie sat, feeling a little stunned at how bleak her assessment of her own relationship was. Was Jason just someone she was using? He couldn't find it in himself to feel bad for the guy; he figured he was using her just as much. “Well, that sounds, um...”

“Eddie, I...sorry, but I just don't really want to hear your opinion on this.” She grabbed the empty Blizzard cup out of his hand and wrenched the door open, quickly walking towards a nearby trash can. Eddie's head was spinning. He had long ago given up on selling the girl anything and was trying to give her a little comfort. He bit back an urge to be irritated with her; she was clearly going through hell and he was only making it worse. He reached over to shut her door and left the car, walking towards her. She stood with her arms crossed at the trash can, looking like she had when he first saw her at the bench.

“Ok, I will not discuss my opinions on Jason Carver or the relationship that you guys have. Cross my heart.”

She turned towards him, looking sheepish. “I'm not normally such a bitch, I swear. Ask anyone, I'm really nice! I don't know why...I can't seem to figure out what's come over me lately. That's why I wanted, you know, the weed in the first place. Is that still on the table?”

“It can be, if you want it to be.”

They were interrupted by an older, clearly drunk man, who brushed past them and tossed his open cup into the trash. Chrissy moved towards Eddie who put his arm around her to steer her away. She looked up at him thankfully.

“Look, Chris...I will sell you as much weed as you want, or I'll buy you as much ice cream as you need, if it makes you feel better. But I...” He bit his lip, working to get the right words out. “I don't want to leave you by yourself unless I know you'll be okay. Because it doesn't seem like you have a ton of actual support in your life. Unless I'm wrong?”

She shook her head, leaning closer to him. “No, you're right,” she said softly. “I'm...really not okay. And I don't even know what to do about it anymore. Or who to reach out to. I feel like I'm going crazy. Do you ever feel that way?”

“Only every day of my life. I mean, here I am, having ice cream with Chrissy Cunningham after all these years.”

She furrowed her brows. “After...” she gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, Corroded Coffin!”

He grimaced, hoping like hell this exact topic wouldn't come up. “Ah, yeah, you saw my band, huh?”

“Yes! What was it, sixth grade talent show, right? You guys were really good! Are you still in a band?”

“Technically, yes, although we've only officially played a few shows. With, like, four drunk people in the audience.”

“Well, make that five for your next show.”

He smiled tightly, falling silent.

“What? What is it, are you embarrassed? You guys were good, honestly. You know, for sixth graders.”

He nodded, pressing his lips together. “You know, I went to your birthday party that year, too.”

“Really? I don't remember you being there.”

“Yeah, I wasn't there for long that day. See, my mom made me go just to get me out of the house for a while, but she didn't give me a present to give you, even though I begged for days. I thought maybe the pleasure of my company would be enough, but then I saw the table with all the huge presents from the other rich kids. Then one of them started hassling me about it, asking where my present for you was. I was too damn embarrassed to stay after that, so I just...left. Just wandered around the neighborhood until dark and went back home.”

Chrissy looked at him sympathetically. “Hey, I'm sorry. I honestly didn't even realize you were there. I would have hung out with you, I didn't...I don't care about some present.”

He wrapped his arms tightly around himself, feeling a chill creep in. “But you do care, don't you? You know, because you're dating the future engineer with the great family even though you think he's an idiot.”

Chrissy gasped a little, color draining from her face. “That's not fucking fair, Eddie! You don't know what my family is like, you have no idea what I've gone through.”

He shook his head, grinning with sudden spite. “I know they're rich. They have one of the biggest houses on the block and they live in the best neighborhood, as do you! Meanwhile, have you noticed I live in the trailer park and have to sell drugs just to get by? Please spare me the 'daddy was mean to me' shit, Chrissy.”

She stood shivering, looking like he had slapped her. After a few long moments she spoke. “It's not my dad, actually. It's my mom.” She looked up at him with defiant tears brimming. “She makes me feel disgusting. She controls everything I do, everything I eat or say. If she knew I was here, she'd be more upset about the fucking ice cream than the fact that I tried to buy drugs. That's what I've been seeing. Her horrible, spiteful voice criticizing me at every turn. And my dad doesn't do shit.” She sniffled, trying to keep tears from falling. “He doesn't say a damn word, and she just keeps on chipping away at me. At my happiness, at my personality, at my fucking soul. So what if I want to find happiness with someone who has a great future? Is that so fucking wrong? Is it so wrong to want to get out of here?” She looked up at him, tears finally spilling. “Well, is it?”

Eddie looked deeply into her eyes; she felt like he was looking through her.

“Look, I'm not some paragon of, like, self-acceptance or anything. But what I do know is, at the end of the day, you have to find a way to live with yourself. To deal with your shit. Otherwise you're just going to keep making the same mistakes for the rest of your life. Trust me on this one.”

She scoffed, feeling lighter. “You talk like you're in your forties or something. You're only a year older than me.”

He threw up his arms, shrugging. “The wisdom that comes with a life well lived.” He smiled bashfully at her. “Look, I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't know what you were going through. Not that's that an excuse in any case. I get a little touchy about things because everyone in this town thinks I'm a piece of shit.”

“I don't, Eddie. I never did. I wish I had told those kids that were making fun of you to fuck off and leave my party. I would have loved to hang out with you.”

Eddie smiled wistfully. “You know, I only started Corroded Coffin to impress you.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, after the presentless birthday fiasco I started to think about how to make you like me. I gathered up a couple of my idiot friends, and we practiced playing for weeks. I thought if I seemed cool enough it would make up for the fact that I didn't have anything to give you. It only occurred to me after the fact that you were also competing, and therefore waiting in the wings, and not in the audience watching my show. I was fully devastated.” He laughed ruefully. “Pretty fucking dumb, huh?”

She shook her head. “No, I still heard it. My mom was back there with me, wanting me to focus on my stretches, but I was more interested in the cool rock band playing before me. I was actually nervous to go on after because of it.”

He laughed incredulously. “No fucking way, I made you nervous to go on? I don't think anyone clapped for us in the audience, not even the parents. In fact, I'm pretty sure we got a lecture on appropriate lyrical content.”

“Well, just know that I was giving you a standing ovation in my head.”

He grinned, feeling immensely pleased. “I had this ongoing fantasy that you would give me a rose or something after the show, and then we'd go out for ice cream.”

“What is it with you and ice cream, Eddie?”

He shrugged, laughing. “Who doesn't like ice cream?”

She sighed, feeling drained but better than she had in days. “Well, we got your ice cream. Rose delivery is pending.”

They both shivered as a harsh breeze cut through.

“Jesus, how long have we been standing here arguing?” Eddie asked.

“Too long. I need to get somewhere warm, I think.”

“Okay. Let me take you home.” Eddie made to move towards the driver's seat, but Chrissy didn't move from where she was standing. “What is it?”

She looked up at him owlishly. “I don't want to take up more of your time. I just don't know if I want to go home right now.”

“You...want to head back to my place for a bit? It's pretty warm, assuming the heat's working tonight.”

She looked at him, smiling shyly. Suddenly she walked forward, quickly closing the gap between them. She wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled into his neck, breathing deeply. “This is pretty warm.”

“Uh...yup, sure is.”

Despite the fact that she had approached him of her own accord and was currently snuggling closely, Eddie was hesitant to do anything untoward. There were only certain situations in which he found himself exuding confidence; these mostly amounted to being a game master and playing guitar (assuming drunk bar patrons weren't hurling slurred insults at him like the last time they'd played. And the time before).

He slowly enveloped her in his arms and let his head rest on hers. After a few moments she pulled away, eyeing him curiously. She inclined her head towards his van. “Come on.”

She walked forward and slipped into the passenger seat. Eddie, still in shock, found he couldn't move for a moment. Chrissy playfully honked the van's horn, shaking him out of his reverie.

“Right.” He hustled forward and got into the driver's seat, revving up the engine. As he backed out of the parking spot, he wondered what alternate universe he had slipped into where Chrissy Cunningham, queen of Hawkins High, was comfortably seated in his van on the way to his home. He grinned, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He decided not to question it and satisfied himself with stealing glances at her in the passenger seat. She looked out the window, watching the world pass by. She knew deep down that what Eddie said about not being able to escape yourself was true, but at this particular moment she was more than happy to give herself a break. Jason, her parents, the future, her visions and headaches; it could all wait for another day. Behind them, wind shivered through the trees as a storm began to brew.

Eddie pulled his van to a stop in the usual spot next to his trailer, hoping his uncle was working a late shift tonight. He didn't think his uncle would give them any grief, but he knew Chrissy would feel obligated to put on a smile and make polite conversation for a while. Right now, all he wanted to do was whatever it took to make her feel safe and secure. The fact that she had come to him for comfort out of everyone else in the world nudged at the edge of his mind; he fought off a gnawing hopefulness. Was this a desperate grab in the darkness on her part? And why him? Most of the girls at school thought he was terrifying, and he didn't do much to dissuade them in that notion. He hung out exclusively with the other outcasts at school, feeling pleased with their idolization of him, but at the end of the day he always came home to an empty room.

“Eddie?”

“Hm?” he looked up at her, realizing he'd been staring straight ahead at his steering wheel for a full 30 seconds. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“About what?” she said softly.

He looked her full in the face, taking in her doe eyes and full lips. Despite everything, she still had her hair pulled up neatly into a dark green scrunchie. He wanted nothing more than to reach over and pull it out. He wanted to watch her hair cascade loosely down, he wanted to kiss her deeply and hear her moan under his mouth. Would she let him, in that moment, in her desperation? Would it even be right if he did?

He sighed. “I was thinking about...what we have in the fridge. I'm sure you're hungry, and I'll be really embarrassed if all we have left is half of a jar of old olives.”

She giggled. “Well, I can order us a pizza.” She brandished the money that had been earmarked for the long-forgotten weed deal.

He grinned. “Sounds like a plan.”

As she walked around his small living room, eyeing his modest decor with trepidation, Eddie dialed the locally owned pizza shop. After listening to a clearly stoned guy go on his own personal reverie about Hawaiian pizza, he ordered a large pepperoni and hung up. He slowly made his way to where she stood looking at a cheaply framed picture.

“Hey, uh, pepperoni's good, right?”

She nodded slightly, looking far away. He hoped she hadn't gone into an odd trance again.

“What is it?”

“Is that your parents?” she asked, gesturing towards the photo.

He looked at the picture grimly. A young couple stood squinting in the California sun; the man, dark-haired and grinning, had his arm wrapped around an even younger-looking woman's waist. She was looking up at him with something like admiration.

“Yuup, that's the Munsons. Actually I don't think they were technically married yet, but I'm pretty sure I'm in this picture.”

She looked at him quizzically. He pointed towards his mother's midsection and tapped the photo.

“Right there.”

“Oh! So they-”

“That was when they lived in California. He was in his early twenties, and she had just turned nineteen at the time.”

Chrissy grimaced, turning away. “God, I can't even imagine being pregnant that young. Not that-” She spun towards him. “Sorry, not that I'm not happy you're here or anything!”

He laughed then, really laughed. “It's ok, I get it. She was way too young to be getting pregnant or married, or shacking up with an unemployed actor. That's what he wanted to do at that point; he thought he was going to be the next Marlon Brando or something. But what little money they had dried up quick after they had me, and they had to run to Indiana to live with my mom's parents with their tails between their legs.”

She looked up at him dolefully. “It wasn't your fault.”

“Yeah, I know. My dad got work in a canning factory, same one my uncle works at now. After a few years of that, he took off. Said something about how me and my mom had wrecked his life before he even had a change to start it. Who the hell knows where he is now. Maybe one day I'll see him in a fucking John Hughes movie or something.” He bit his lip ruefully.

“My mom couldn't deal with the fact that she had hung all her hopes on this asshole, and so she took it out on me. Nothing physical really, but...” he turned to look at her. “I know all about parents cutting you down and making you feel like nothing. One day in seventh grade, I think it was some 'bring your parents to school' thing...you know, I didn't have anyone. My mom had to find what work she could in town, and I just sat there all day, watching the other kids talk about how loving their moms were or how hard-working their dads were, and I just...at some point during the day, I started crying. And I didn't stop.” He looked up again at the picture, blinking back tears and breathing heavily.

“After a while I got called into the principal's office, and the counselor asked me if everything was okay at home. Well, obviously it wasn't. Even the podunk administration could see that. So we had a meeting, me and my mom and the principal and the counselor, and they suggested maybe there was a relative I could stay with while my mom 'got back on her feet'. She said that her brother could take care of me for a little bit, and then that little bit turned into seven years.”

“She moved to some hippie commune in Nevada and never looked back. Honestly, she was ecstatic to get rid of me. I tried to write her a few letters, but, uh, they came back as undelivered, so...c'est la vie, mother dear.”

“Jesus, Eddie,” she said, turning towards him with her brows furrowed. He shrugged in response, as if to say it was water under the bridge. She turned back towards the picture.

“I mean...you look a lot like your dad. And you have some of your mom's features, too, your eyes are kind of soft like hers.” She glanced at him and turned quickly away, blushing a bit. “But everything else is you, Eddie. I don't see you running away or abandoning someone who depends on you; I don't think you could be that selfish.”

He smiled, looking at her. “You barely know me, Chris.”

“Well, you've spent all day selflessly dealing with my shit, and you invited me into your home and everything.”

He scoffed. “Well, yeah, you know, the president swung by earlier, but he had to leave. It was just too ornate, he said. Too big and too fancy. It was too intimidating for him.”

She grinned up at him, bemused. “But this place is yours.”

“Yeah, so? It's a...fucking shack in a shithole town in the middle of nowhere.”

She looked down at her shoes. “I guess what I'm trying to say, is that it doesn't matter where you come from, or even where you are at any given moment, necessarily. It doesn't matter if your parents were assholes or if all you have in the fridge is fucking old olives.” She looked straight through him. “There's just something about you. You're kind, even though people haven't been kind to you. You could have told me to leave you alone a hundred times today, you know? I feel like everyone else in my life only values me if I'm the right kind of person. The right kind of daughter, or girlfriend, or athlete. But I feel like I can be myself with you. Good or bad or scared or hopeless, and you'll be there.”

She sighed, looking down. “I really wish I hadn't been so oblivious this whole time. You know, here you were, being you. Wonderful, sweet, passionate Eddie. I feel like I'm just now finding a lighthouse in the storm that is my life.”

He looked at her, not knowing what to say. “Ah..”

“Sorry! Sorry, that was really intense and...melodramatic. I guess I'm just really grateful for what you've done today.”

“I really haven't done anything special, Chrissy. I mean, obviously you're going through a lot. What kind of asshole wouldn't notice, or care, about being there for you? Anyone would have done the same.”

She shook her head, a thin smile etched onto her face. “Not anyone. No one. No one...in my life has noticed anything's wrong. And it is wrong, it's...I don't even know how to wrap my head around what it is that's so wrong. Just...fucking everything. And you're the only one who even cared. You could have sold me weed and had me out of your life in ten minutes. But you didn't.”

She stepped forward, closing the gap between them once more and wrapping her arms around his slender upper body. She looked up at him expectantly. The seconds ticked by, and she continued to stare with her preposterously icy-blue eyes. Something primal roared within Eddie's chest.

Do it do it kiss her my god she wants this kiss her

But something held him back. He pictured the pep rally where, only a few short hours ago, Jason Carver had called out to Chrissy, marking her as his own in front of the whole school, and she had smiled radiantly at him from across the gym. It wasn't that he thought she belonged to Jason; far from it, she was capable of making her own decisions even in the throes of despair she was currently living through. If she wanted to leave the guy because he was a shithead, by all means she had that right. But Eddie had only had a small handful of what could generously be called romantic encounters in his life. A furtive kiss her and there under the high school bleachers, far away from any prying, judgmental eyes.

No, no self-respecting Hawkins student wanted to be seen fraternizing with Eddie Munson. And Chrissy, whatever she was going through, was clearly looking to him for comfort. He would gladly give it as a friend, would even give her what passed for guidance in the Munson house. But some secret, hurt part of him couldn't get past the notion that, once this was all over, once she got past whatever this was, their encounter would be a scant memory, and she would go running back to the safety of the rich boy with the good family. He didn't hold it against her by any means, but he couldn't quite get past it either. Her face had taken on a confused and slightly hurt look. “Ed-”

A sudden knock sounded on the wooden door, and they jumped apart as if struck by lightning.

“Yo, pizza's here!”

They looked at each other, both lost in their own private miseries, unable to process the reality of the pizza guy at that moment.

Another frantic knock.

“Yo, yo, last call, muchachos!”

He gestured vaguely towards the door. “Do you want to...?”

“Right! I'll be right there, one second!”

She cast one more reproachful look at Eddie and made her way towards the door.

They sat in the dimly lit living room, Eddie in his customary chair and Chrissy occupying Eddie's uncle's much more comfortable barcalounger. On the outdated TV, Bob Barker was advising the latest contestant on The Price is Right on the finer points of spinning the big wheel. Despite the awkwardness the two had found themselves in after the earlier encounter, they had scarfed the pizza together with the reckless abandon of teenagers who still had good metabolism on their side. Eddie glanced over guiltily at Chrissy, who was curled up in the plush chair, her head resting on the arm.

“Do you think this game is rigged?” she asked after a long silence. “Like, someone is backstage controlling what number the person gets when they spin?”

“Maybe,” he said dolefully. “That would be kind of fucked up, though. You wait your whole life for a chance to get on the show and win money to put your stupid kids through college and be the envy of all your housewife friends, then some asshole decides your number is, like, 10. You ride all the way home to bumfuck nowhere in silence with your husband, who you can't stand because you're pretty sure he's boning his hot little secretary, and all you can think about is punching Bob Barker in his stupid, smug little face.”

She giggled freely. “You really paint a picture, Eds.”

The hysterically grinning woman on TV spun the wheel with all her might, and it landed on 30. Not bad, Eddie thought.

Chrissy gazed at Eddie, the bluish light reflecting off his face and making him look ghostly. Had she misread this whole day completely? Was she that arrogant to think any guy would want to kiss her? He had been so nice to her today, so not what she thought he'd be like. Yes, they had had a few outbursts of emotion here and there, but she was sure she was partly to blame as well. They were so different, after all, and she had come to him for help. She had asked so much of him, and he had swallowed his pride and years of hurt and shown himself to be a real friend.

Maybe that was all he wanted to be; he had his reasons, she was sure. Maybe she wasn't his type at all; wasn't it possible he went for dark-haired, grungy goth types like the kind he'd see at the bars he played? God, he must have girls all over him, with his long rocker hair and soulful eyes and dexterous fingers...

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie could see Chrissy staring. Oh god what am I doing you idiot don't be an idiot so what if she never talks to you again go for it you dumb dick-

Eddie was spared the agony of indecision by the jingle of keys in his front door. His uncle quietly came in and closed it, not sure if Eddie was asleep or not. When he came into the room proper and saw a girl in her cheerleading outfit in his chair, he started in surprise. He tried to dredge up what little he remembered of his school romancing days so as not to embarrass his nephew.

“Hello there, kids. Don't mind me, I'll just grab a beer and head to bed. Long day today, long day tomorrow.”

“Actually, I should probably get going. My mom is definitely wondering where I am. My name's Chrissy, by the way.” She stood up, adjusting her skirt with one hand while extending the other.

“Wayne Munson,” he smiled gruffly at her. “Pleased to meet you, young lady.”

Eddie waggled his fingers at his uncle. “Hey, Pops. How was the old factory?”

“Oh, you know, just threw on my finest suit and had lunch with the president of the company. They're gonna make me an exec any day now.” He winked at Eddie.

Eddie stood up, groaning with fullness and languor. “Come on, Chris.”

The two walked outside, Eddie closing the door behind him. Chrissy stood, twisting her hands together with the old anxiety. His eyes flicked down to her hands; he frowned slightly but said nothing.

“Well, I better start before it gets too late,” she said, gesturing behind her at the dark street.

Eddie scoffed. “What, are you going to walk? It's at least a couple of miles.”

“Yeah, I'm fine. With all the pizza and ice cream I think I'd better get some cardio in before everything fully digests.”

“Ok, not that I'm not in full support of a fitness regimen, but it's pretty dark out. And it's like 10:30.”

“Eddie, I'm fine, really.”

He could see a touch of stubbornness around her eyes that hadn't been there earlier today. Maybe she was still a little miffed that he hadn't returned her affectionate gesture. He bit his lip; it was late and she was trying his patience. He tried to see it from her point of view. She had spilled her guts out to someone she hadn't spoken to in years, basically a stranger. He had given every indication that he was someone to be trusted, someone she could be open and intimate with. Maybe she even thought him attractive; why wouldn't she put everything together and assume he wanted the same thing? The only reason he hadn't was his own sense of pride, really. He wondered again how she would respond if he just took that one last step forward, if he wrapped his hands around her warm body and took her mouth in his. God, he wanted nothing more in that moment. She stood looking up at him still.

He sighed and pushed his complicated feelings aside, noting to himself that she wasn't the only stubborn one in this pairing. “I will not be able to sleep tonight knowing that you're walking around alone in the dark. That's how girls get Bundy'd, you know.”

She huffed a laugh. “You know, it's kind of bullshit. Guys can walk around at night without any fear, but just because I'm a girl, I have to be carried home like a fragile little...thing.”

Eddie rubbed his long-fingered hands over his face, breathing deeply. “I one-hundred percent agree with you. We can definitely talk about the finer points of feminist theory in the morning, but for right now, will you please get in the van?”

“Now you sound like Ted Bundy.”

He laughed hard, feeling his tension melt away. God, she was something.

Smiling again at the fact she had made him laugh, she went to his van, Eddie trailing behind.

If you're lost you can look and you will find me

Time after time

Cyndi Lauper's soulful voice filled the cabin of the van; as they pulled to a stop at a red light, Eddie's fingers drummed the rhythm of the song on the steering wheel.

Chrissy smiled. “You know you can change this to like, Def Leppard or something. Really, I don't mind.”

He looked askance at her. “Hey, just because I have the hair, and the rings, and the tattoos, and the ripped jeans...okay, I see where you're coming from. I do sort of fit the image, don't I? But I am a multi-faceted person, Chris, make no mistake.”

“Yeah, I gathered that.”

Their easy camaraderie had come back during the ride to Chrissy's house, much to her relief. Chrissy didn't think she could take Eddie being mad at her or feeling weird around her. She needed him, and once she was over whatever she was going through, she would do everything she could to return the favor. She would go out of her way to publicly befriend him, to show the rest of the kids he wasn't so bad and scary. She could see him being very popular once people got to know him. And if he didn't want that, if he wanted to stay in his own little world of guitar solos and late night shows, well she would support that too.

“Where did you say your band played again?”

“The Hideout.” He half-rolled his eyes. “Shitty little bar up on 4th and Main. I'm trying to convince the owner to bring us on as the “official entertainment”. Then, who knows, we might even get paid in something besides old beer.”

“I'm looking forward to it.”

He smiled and glanced at her, his eyes a little soft. He was so focused on the pleasant twisting in his gut at the thought of her in the audience that he almost missed the turn into her culdesac.

“Oh! I'm right here!”

He swung a hard left and skidded up to the driveway; a dog awoke in one of the nearby houses and started barking an alarm.

“Thank you for traveling Eddie Airlines,” he said in a cheesy announcer voice. “If you need to hurl, please use our designated paper bags. And by the way, your luggage has definitely been dropped in the ocean, so sorry.”

She laughed, playfully hitting him in the arm.

“Do you want me to walk you to the door?”

“No, I can walk a few feet unaccompanied, I promise.”

“Ok, I just...” He faltered, hesitating. He didn't want to spoil the light mood they had regained, but he didn't feel quite right just sending her on her way. “I worry about you, Chris. Like, I know this has been a bitch of a day, and you're going through stuff. And not that you're not strong. I feel like you must be, to go through the things you do. I feel like I don't even know the half of it, honestly.”

She pursed her lips and nodded slightly. “Yeah, I mean, I didn't want to dump everything on you all at once. Maybe today was just about getting...reacquainted? It's been such a long time since we knew each other. Even back then, stupid me didn't take the time to get to know you that well. And I'm sorry if I made you angry or did anything to make you feel weird today.”

He shook his head emphatically. “No, if anything it's me. I've never-”

Chrissy gasped suddenly; Eddie swiveled his head to see her porch lights had been turned on.

“Shit, I have to go. My mom's going to kill me for being out so late.”

Before he knew it, she had wrapped him in a tight hug. Her body pressed against his made him feel a little faint. Then, just as quickly, she pulled away and slid out of her seat. She started towards her door at a light jog.

“Chris!” he hissed.

“What?” she said, turning.

“Can we talk more tomorrow? About everything?”

“Yes, I promise.” She reached through the open window and grasped his hand for a fleeting moment. Then she was off again like a shot. He peeled out as quietly as he could, making his way to the main road. After a few minutes he pulled into a mostly-empty gas station lot. He sat for a few minutes with his head resting on the steering wheel, trying to get his bearings. The gas-station attendant, a chipper mid-20s man named Dave, came out to the parking lot and surveyed Eddie.

“Hey, man, rough night?”

Eddie grunted in response.

“Too much vino?”

Eddie shook his head, not lifting it from the wheel.

“Woman stuff?”

After a slight pause, Eddie nodded.

Dave clicked his tongue sympathetically. I know how you feel, man. Blue slushie?”

Eddie lifted his head at last and peered up at Dave at an angle. “Put it on my tab, amigo.”

The next day dawned with an unseasonable warmth; November mornings usually brought at least a light dusting of snow on the ground. Chrissy awoke blearily, her mother's excessive lecturing from the previous night still ringing in her ears. What was she thinking getting home so late, did she know how worried her mother had been all night, this town has all kind of riff-raff around to snatch you up

Chrissy sat on the edge of her bed and couldn't stop a smile from sneaking onto her face. She guessed that the person she had spent the previous day with would count as riff-raff in her mother's estimation. She honestly couldn't care less, however; she felt more empowered and sure of herself than she had in ages. She actually felt like she was her own person and not just an extension of what everyone wanted and needed her to be. If that was how Eddie Munson made her feel, she had every intention of going straight to Jason's locker and breaking up with him once she got to school. Except...Eddie hadn't kissed her. Chrissy frowned. She had expected him to when they hugged outside of the Dairy Queen; when he didn't, she thought maybe he was just shy or taken aback. She was sure he would later on when they were together in his trailer. Her thoughts turned back to last night.

She felt almost certain that he liked her; there was something in his brown eyes that betrayed a longing, the same as she felt for him. What was holding him back exactly? She was determined to talk to him today, to suss out exactly what was going on between him so there was no misunderstanding. Her own problems felt a million miles away at that moment; the last thing she wanted to think about was her headaches and visions. Besides, as long as Eddie was around, she didn't think she had to worry about any of that stuff anymore.

“Chrissy!,” her mother shrieked from the ground floor. “You'd better be up and doing your calisthenics routine, young lady! Just because you were doing god knows what last night doesn't mean you can be lazy today!”

Chrissy sighed with aggravation and began to pull on her workout clothes.

Mike and Dustin sat next to Eddie in the lunchroom, talking rapturously about the D&D campaign they had just finished the previous weekend. Normally he would be basking in the praise and plotting for the next phase, but right now he felt a million miles away. He had had a vision that morning that Chrissy would be waiting for him at his locker with her girlish smile and coaxing eyes. But he hadn't seen her all day, even though their lockers were fairly close to each other. Was she avoiding him? Was she embarrassed about all the things she'd told him, or was her plan all along just to use him as a dumping ground for the stuff she couldn't tell her boyfriend?

He scolded himself, knowing he was being shitty. He was the one who hadn't returned her clear signals even though he'd wanted to. He did genuinely care about Chrissy, but he seemed to keep getting caught up in his old petty, middle school hurt. He scanned the lunchroom, not seeing Chrissy or Jason, even at the basketball players' usual table. He had a horrible image of the two of them under the bleachers, Chrissy giggling as Jason kissed her ears and neck. Eddie stood up suddenly, making the other members of the Hellfire club look up with concern.

“I, uh, I'll be right back,” he said, striding quickly away before they had a chance to ask follow up questions. He walked, not sure where he was even going. Fuck fuck fuck Jason Carver and his stupid basketball team I hope they get into a bus crash

Eddie wound up at his locker, not knowing what he was hoping for. If there was nothing from Chrissy, he could chalk yesterday up to a vivid acid hallucination and leave it at that. He could forget about all the preppy kids from the right side of town who had everything going for them, just like they would forget about the scary drug dealer from the trailer park.

If there was something, though...

He slowly opened the locker, gritting his teeth. He didn't bother with a lock as he had nothing valuable worth taking, which had occasionally resulted in someone leaving mud or an old sneaker in his locker out of spite. This time, though, a neatly folded piece of paper fell out and floated to the ground. He scrambled to pick it up before some idiot stepped on it; he unfolded it and read

Hey Eds

If you're free today, meet me at Top Shelf Records at 4:00.

Chrissy~

He slid to the ground with his back against the lockers, feeling a little dazed. Brian, one of the less douchey seniors who he had sold weed to, walked past and gave him a sympathetic nod.

“Having a bad trip, Ed?”

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly, grinning despite himself. “Something like that.”

“You looking for something special?”

Chrissy glanced up at the record store employee, who looked like he hadn't showered in days. He also seemed to be in his mid-30s, which made the slightly lecherous smile on his face that much weirder. She gave him a quick, tight smile. “Just, um...waiting for someone.” She checked her watch, a thin, white-gold piece she had gotten for her 18th birthday that year. 4:03 PM. Thankfully, she saw Eddie's familiar frame approaching her in the corner of her eye; she nearly ran to him and threw her arms around him, both happy to see him and glad she wasn't alone in the store with a weirdo.

“Hey, you,” she breathed into his ear. Eddie returned her hug, whispering back, “Hey, kiddo.”

She scoffed and broke away from him, squaring her hands on her hips, trying to look older. He tousled her hair playfully and winked. She whirled away from him, giggling. “Come on, old man, help me find a good record. I need to spend my allowance money before I cave and buy more junk food.”

“An allowance, huh?” he said teasingly.

“Mm-hm,” she intoned, probably not wanting to get into a discussion/argument about how she got spending money from her parents.

“So I guess you got an earful from your mom about yesterday?”

“Just like I thought, she was more upset about me eating than staying out late. It was like she knew somehow, she's like a bloodhound. But oh my god I forgot how good pizza is.”

He nodded sagely. “No one should live without pizza. Or...” he took a record from the nearest pile and held it close to his chest. “Queen.”

Chrissy looked at the record cover; it showed the four band members looking straight ahead, all wearing leather jackets similar to Eddie's. She laughed, pointing to the man on the right side of the picture. “That one kind of looks like you.”

“Brian May, one of the greatest guitarists of all time? Please, I don't even deserve to be spoken of in the same sentence.”

Chrissy grinned. “Yeah, I've heard of Queen. I haven't listened to much of their newer stuff, but they have a few songs I like. That one from a few years ago, I forget the name.” She began to hum a familiar melody line. Eddie softly sang along, knowing the lyrics by heart.

“You take my body, I give you heat. You say you hungry, I give you meat.”

“Oh my god,” Chrissy laughed, blushing with embarrassment. Even Eddie turned a little red, covering his face with his long hair. “Yeah, it's not very subtle.”

“What's that one called again?”

“Uhh...Get Down, Make Love.”

Chrissy blushed harder and turned away, clearing her throat. “Is there anything a little less risque? I think if my parents heard that song they'd shit.”

Eddie scanned the record boxes nearest him. “Hmm..oh, here we go.” He held up a vinyl of Rod Stewart's latest album. “The least sexy man in the music industry.”

She threw her eyebrows up. “Speak for yourself.”

“Come on, his stuff is so cheesy.” He broke into a bad rendition of “Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?” complete with Rod's signature shoulder shimmy.

She rolled her eyes at him, grinning. “Yeah, like 'I give you meat' is so erotic.”

“Ok, miss high culture, what's the most romantic album in this place?”

Chrissy looked around, then gasped. She ran over to the other side of the store and came back with Fleetwood Mac's Rumors.

“You're kidding?”

“What? You don't like it?”

“No, I love it. Obviously it's one of the best albums of all time. But it's literally about a breakup. As in, the lyrical content and the actual creation behind it. It's the opposite of romantic.”

“Hm, I guess.” She turned the album over, looking through the song list. “The way I see it, Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham broke up when they were making the album, right? So all that pain and love and betrayal, it had to go somewhere. Instead of just sitting there being mad at each other forever, they put it into the music. Every song is like pure, raw emotion. And maybe it isn't romantic in a positive way, but it still came from that place where you feel for the other person. I feel like loving and hating someone are two sides of the same coin. It's only when you're indifferent to someone that you know they mean nothing to you.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he said, sounding pensive. “But sometimes being with someone who doesn't drive you nuts is the best-case scenario. You're not up all night wondering what you mean to them, or what they mean to you.”

She fixed him with a long look, grinning from the corner of her mouth. “What would you know about it?” she asked playfully.

He scoffed. “Are you implying I know nothing about relationships?”

“Have you been in one?”

He wanted to protest further, but he remembered he'd already told her about being a virgin. He threw up his hands in defeat. “Ok, you got me there. Still...” He rubbed at one of his rings with his thumb, an old, anxious habit he'd tried and failed to break. ���There's nothing worse than wanting to be with someone but not really knowing where you stand with them.”

“That's part of the fun, Eddie,” she said coyly. She started to walk up to the register to pay for the record; after a few seconds, she turned to find him standing in the same spot. He looked almost hurt. She sighed and marched back to him.

“You want to know where I stand, Eddie?” she said with exasperation.

“Yeah, actually,” he bit back.

“Ok, fine. I really like you. I'm sorry that we haven't talked in years, and I'm sorry that I didn't see you at my stupid birthday party that I hated being at, and I'm sorry I didn't bring you a goddamn rose when your band played. I was a stupid kid who didn't know any better. But now, I'm here, and you're here, and I feel like there's something between us. And you keep pulling away from it, and it's frustrating and confusing.” She searched his stony face. “What is it? What did I do wrong? Can't you forgive me for not seeing you all this time? Please?”

“It's not that, Chris. I just feel like you don't really want to be with me. I don't come from a nice, well-off family...I don't have a future! You're just going to get me out of your system, and then run back to where it's safe. All I'll ever be to you is the weird kid who you hooked up with in high school on a stupid whim, because you were feeling reckless and lost and didn't know what else to do. And you'll tell Jason, and he'll forgive you because he's such a great guy, and you can go back to your nice little life full of PTA meetings and pep rallys.”

Their voices were loud enough that other people in the store could hear them arguing, but Chrissy didn't really care.

“Fuck Jason Carver! I broke up with him during lunch.”

Eddie stepped back in shock. “Wait, really?”

“Yes. I told him that we have nothing in common and he didn't really know me. Then he called me a bitch and said I must be fucking half the basketball team behind his back.”

Eddie flushed with anger. “What the fuck?”

Chrissy shook her head. “Forget it, this isn't about him. I thought a lot about what you said last night. You were right, I shouldn't be with someone just because I'm afraid to be alone, or because I'm not sure what my future's going to look like. My grades should be good enough to get at least a partial scholarship to state school, and if I work hard I'll never have to see my parents again after this year.”

“Jesus, Chrissy, is it really that bad with them?”

She nodded, brushing away tears. “Yeah.”

He looked contritely at her. “Hey, I'm sorry for making this all about me. I was just holding on to some old bullshit wound from a hundred years ago, and here you are dealing with awful fucking people every day.” He embraced her, hoping she would forgive him.

She held him tightly against her. “I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren't worth anything. It was stupid of me to try so hard to be a part of the right crowd. I just wanted to make my parents happy with me.” She shook her head in disgust. “Why did I try so hard to make them like me, Eddie? They're my parents. Shouldn't they love me no matter what?”

“Yeah,” he said huskily, nestling his head into her neck. “In a perfect world.”

“Oh, god, I'm sorry,” she said, pulling away. “Your parents-”

“Are shitty, and they left me. Your parents are shitty, and they're still around. If anything, I'm the lucky one.”

Chrissy laughed, relieved they had finally worked out the unspoken tension between them. A beam of sunlight fell on Eddie's long hair from a high window, making the dark curls look almost golden. She felt her stomach twist in a pleasant knot. He noticed her staring and felt his own butterflies.

“You good?”

“Mm-hm,” she said dreamily.

“So what's it going to be?” he asked, holding up the records they had discussed. “The doomed but ultimately compelling love affair of Fleetwood Mac? Or the sheer, raw rock power of Freddie and the gang?”

She shook her head. “I already have Rumors. And Queen is good, but...” She turned and picked up the Rod Stewart record. “He's my guy.”

Eddie laughed, shaking his head. “All right, it's your allowance.” He took it from her, looking it over curiously. “Is he your favorite singer?”

“Second favorite.”

“And the first is?”

“Eddie Munson.”

He blushed. “You've never even heard me play.”

“Not true,” she said, pulling on his sleeve to steer him to the register. “Remember, Corroded Coffin?”

“Oh god,” he said in mock anger. “Will I ever be free of my middle school shame?”

“Not as long as I'm around to remind you.”

They made their way to the back of the line and Eddie slid an arm around her waist as they waited. In response, she rested her head on his shoulder. Behind them, a young, dark-haired man hurried out of the store with his hands in the pockets of his letterman jacket.

“Wait, you don't actually have a record player?”

They stood in Eddie's sparse bedroom, the Rod Stewart record clutched protectively in Chrissy's hands.

Eddie shrugged and pulled out the pockets of his ripped jeans, showing they were empty apart from an old gum wrapper. “No, sorry. Had to sell it a few months ago when no one was buying from me.” He made a pouty face at her, pushing his lower lip out and getting on his knees. “Forgive me?”

Chrissy laughed, placing her hand delicately under his chin. He looked up at her and the sight of him there nearly took her breath away. She, however, was determined to keep her composure around him and not act like the inexperienced schoolgirl she was. “Fine, I guess Rod will have to wait.”

“Yes!” he pumped his fist in the air and stood up.

“You sure you don't have one? Maybe you just don't want to listen to this one in particular,” she said teasingly.

“Actually,” he said, crossing his arms and bouncing over to his desk, “I'm saving up for a cassette player. Those are more in these days, anyways. In a few years I bet they won't even make vinyl records anymore.” He reached into his bottom drawer and pulled out a metal box.

“What's that?”

He sat on his bed and put the box in his lap; looking up at her, he said “Literally everything I have in the world.” He brandished his keyring and unlocked the box; inside was a slight wad of cash and a few old concert tickets. He pulled it out and thumbed through it. “About $80. Hopefully if they don't cut any of my uncle's hours this week I can hang onto it long enough to actually buy the thing.”

She said nothing, not wanting to be insensitive. She didn't know what it was like to live on such a thin margin, where a little bit of money could be the difference between making it to the next week or not. No wonder Eddie was so defensive about the difference in their lifestyles; she was privileged in terms of this at least.

“Hey, when's your birthday?”

“October 10th.”

“Ah, I just missed it then. Maybe...I can get you a belated present?”

He grinned. “Chris, I don't need you to buy me a cassette player. Really, I can take care of myself.”

She nodded, not wanting to be pushy. Eddie was definitely the type to not just take someone's money; she felt it was still an injustice, though. If she saved her allowance for a few weeks, she could buy the player with plenty to spare.

“How long have you been a dealer?”

He shrugged, looking away and fiddling with the rips in his jeans. “Sophomore year, you know, this guy approached me, said he was about to graduate. He told me I seemed like I could use a steady source of income, and he gave me Reefer Rick's number. That was all it took, really. I call the guy, he hooks me up with what I need, and I sell to the local kiddies. It was actually a blessing, because the money's saved me and my uncle's ass more than once. You know, I eat food and guzzle gas same as the rich kids, and he never planned to raise a kid until I showed up on his doorstep like Oliver fucking Twist.”

“Do you ever think about leaving?”

“What, and move out to Hollywood like my old man? Try to make it big?”

“Or, you know, be a musician.” She gestured to the guitar on his wall. “New York's not that far from Hawkins.”

“Yeah, and about a thousand times more expensive. I can barely scrape by here, you know? How am I going to make it out there with a million other people trying to do the same thing?”

“I'm sorry,” she said, looking down. “I'm not trying...I just don't want you to be stuck here.”

He smiled, leaning backwards on his bed until his shirt rode up. “Already planning my future, eh? Figured you were that type.”

“Well, you know, I don't want to be stuck here either.” She tried to keep her voice level but her eyes flicked to his exposed lower half.

“And what does the intelligent and beautiful Chrissy Cunningham want to do with her life?” he asked, drumming his long fingers on his upper chest rhythmically.

“Um, I'm not totally sure yet. Maybe I could be a vet? I really love animals. But, you know, you have to take all the pre-reqs first, like Psych and World Studies and all that. I can figure it out while I'm doing all that.”

“Hm.”

Chrissy stood with her hands behind her back, rocking back and forth on her heels; she couldn't see Eddie's face with the angle he was laying in, so she wasn't sure if he was being moody or just contemplative. She decided to risk it anyways.

“Do you...have any plans for college?”

“Chris, I don't know if you've noticed but I haven't even finished high school. This is my third go at passing senior year.”

Right, she knew that. “How come?” she blurted out, instantly regretting it. “I mean, I feel like you're smart enough to get through all your classes. Maybe it's just an issue of focusing? I can tutor you if you like...”

“No, you're right, I'm start enough to pass all my classes.”

“Then, why-”

“I don't want to graduate.”

Chrissy wasn't sure what to say to that.

“You-”

“I don't want to graduate, because then I'll have to get a real job, probably at the damn canning factory where my uncle works, and then it'll really sink in that I'm just another piece of Munson trash.” He was splayed out now with his arms stretched out, grasping at loose fibers on his bedspread. “You know, at school, people look up to me in the D&D group, I have people to play with in the band, I have customers coming to me for shit all the time. You know, why give all that up for some shitty job I'll spend the rest of my life at anyways? I just want to...you know, be a kid for a little longer. To have some hope. Once it's done, I'll know for sure that that's it.”

Chrissy was taken aback; he had chided her for being afraid of taking a risk and going it alone, but here he was not even wanting to move on from high school.

“It sounds like...nothing, forget it.” She shook her head and sighed.

“What? What does it sound like?”

He sat up now, leaning on his hands. He was looking at her, not with anger or hurt but genuine curiosity.

“It...sounds like you're afraid,” she choked out. She looked at him, eyes wide, hoping she hadn't touched another nerve.

“Yeah,” he said simply. “I am.”

She was relieved and pressed on.

“Maybe it doesn't have to be that way? You can go to community college, you know? They have all kind of scholarships-”

“You sound like my counselor. You know, the one they have everyone talk to about 'their future'.” He disdainfully acted out the phrase in air quotes. “She said my options for scholarships are sports, academics, or being really fucking poor. I'm obviously not into sports and I've failed senior year more than once so I don't think an academic scholarship is going to work out. And the scholarships they have for poor kids are pretty few and far between. I think I'd rather that money go to someone who really deserves it.”

“You don't think you deserve it?”

He shrugged. “What, am I going to be a doctor? A lawyer? Am I going to write a dissertation on zoological morphology?”

She made a face, giggling.

“Yeah, I can read, believe it or not,” he said, smiling. “I get it, you know. Technically I have 'options' but I just can't see myself really going for all that. For you, you know, it's different. I'm sure you'll find something you're passionate about and be fucking great at it. And you can come visit me, you know, like an old cheetah past it's prime at the zoo.”

“Oh my god, Eddie.”

“Can we be done with this conversation, please?” he looked at her pleadingly.

“Yes, we don't need to talk about this now-”

“Or ever.”

She walked over to his guitar which obviously held a place of honor in the room. “How long have you been playing? Was Corroded Coffin your first big foray into the music industry?”

He sauntered over and plucked at the strings in quick succession, playing a tune. “Yeah, pretty much since I moved in with my uncle. He actually got me this as a welcome present. That's when I knew it was me and him against the world. He used to play in a band when he was in high school.”

“I've always wanted to learn.”

“Acoustic or electric?”

“What, you don't think girls can rock out?”

“Please, Barracuda is like one of my favorite songs. You as a rocker, though, I'm not sure I see it.”

“You're very presumptuous, Eddie Munson.”

“Ok,” he said, taking the guitar down and handing it to her. “Show me what you've got.”

“No, I mean, I've never even touched a guitar. I'm mostly...”

“What?”

“Nothing, forget I said anything.”

“Chrissy.”

“Eddie.”

“You're mostly a...” he motioned for her to go on.

“A singer. Like, obviously not professionally. Not even really trained. My parents thought it was stupid so they never let me get lessons. But if I was in a band, I would want to be the singer.”

“Alright, show me what you got, girl.” He sat back on the bed, crossing his legs and getting his guitar into position.

“Oh, please, Eddie, I'm really not that good.”

He simply motioned again for her to go on; she sighed and scrunched her face up.

“You're a real tough cookie with a long history...of breaking little hearts like the one in me,” she sang quietly, hoping she could get through it without embarrassing herself too much. Eddie quickly got up to speed and started playing along with her.

“That's okay, lets see how you do it, put up your dukes, let's get down to it.” She got more into the rhythm as she sang, even getting into a fighting stance and shaking her hips along to the guitar. As the song reached it's end, she pulled out her scrunchie and shook her hair loose, whipping it in time to the music.

“Fire away!” she sang, stamping her feet to the final lyric and raising her first in the air. Eddie applauded, moving his guitar to the side. “That was awesome, are you kidding me!”

She laughed, flushed and sweaty but beaming. “I think that's the first time I've ever sang in front of anyone.”

He bowed slightly and took her hand, kissing it. “I'm honored.”

Their eyes met as he stood back up.

“Do that again,” Chrissy said quietly.

“What?”

She nodded down to her hand. He laughed but did as he was told. This time, as he bent down, she took his face in her hands. They stood for a moment, Chrissy rubbing her thumb along Eddie's bottom lip.

“If I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted to kiss me,” Eddie said drolly.

She leaned towards him, eliminating the space between them at last. As they kissed, her hands roamed along his body, finding a spot to settle under his shirt near his middle back.

“Should I take this off?”

She bit her lip and nodded. He tossed his shirt into a nearby pile and made his way to the bed, holding out his hand for her to join him. She clambered into the bed, trying to adjust her skirt so it wouldn't reveal too much. They continued kissing, his mouth soft on hers. Her hands roamed freely along his sparsely hairy chest and thin back. He wrapped his arm around her midsection and soon they rolled into a position where Chrissy could straddle him.

“Is this ok?” he asked.

“Mm-hm,” she muttered, surprised at how comfortable this all felt. When other guys had pushed her boundaries, she had always felt an awful crawling in the pit of her stomach and tried to get out of the situation as quickly as possible. Here, looking down at Eddie, with his beautiful brown eyes and soft hair, she felt like she could do this forever.

“What do you like?” she asked. “I mean, I know you haven't had sex but guys talk about this stuff, right?”

“Uh...kind of. I mean, I've never really thought much about it beyond the basics. I want you to be in control here, you know?”

She smiled, feeling a rush of warmth to her midsection. “In control, huh?” She shimmied down a bit to where she could feel his length; she spread her legs and began to move in circles.

“Ohhh, fuck,” he moaned. “That feels really good.”

“I bet it would feel even better if you took your pants off.”

“Jesus, Chrissy,” he laughed hoarsely. “What was this about you being inexperienced?”

She shrugged, smiling confidently. “I'm just stating a fact.”

She climbed off him and stood on the side of the bed. “Please.”

“Don't have to ask me twice.” Eddie slid his jeans off and kicked them to the side. She positioned herself again, rubbing herself against his erect cock through his boxers. She bit her lip; it felt good, but she didn't know if was quite enough. There was too much material between them; she wanted to feel him in her. She doubted he had any condoms, though, and she took the school's paltry safe sex lessons to heart. She settled for sliding off her underwear and throwing them on the ground; still wearing her sweater and skirt, she rubbed herself against him, feeling it throb and leak under her.

“Is this good, Eddie?”

“Ohh yeah,” he said, clearly in a world of his own bliss. She moaned, feeling her own wetness soak through his thin boxers. He was so close to being inside her but also frustratingly far. She wanted his cock fully in her, pounding and filling her. She pictured them both naked, her leaning against a dresser as he stood and fucked deep into her. The image and the friction between them sent her over the edge; she moaned loudly and gripped Eddie's hips, rubbing faster and harder until she was spent. She climbed off of him and lay next to him, catching her breath.

“Holy shit that was awesome,” he gasped, laughing delightedly. “You are something else, Cunningham.”

She rolled over to face him, grinning. “Do you need to, you know, finish?”

“Is that okay?”

She nodded, wanting to see what it was like for him. He pushed down his boxers and gripped his swollen cock, jerking his hand along the shift and rubbing the tip with his thumb. She ran her fingers through his hair as he brought himself to orgasm, kissing along his collarbone. The sound of his moans made her shiver; she wanted to make him sound like that as much as possible. As he finished, she felt herself wanting to come again. He stood up to clean himself off in the bathroom; she pushed up her skirt and began to rub herself quickly. Eddie came back and felt himself flush deeply at the sight of Chrissy, still in her cheerleader uniform, sans underwear, rubbing her soaking clit in his bed.

He cleared his throat. “May I?” She nodded. He kneeled in front of her and took her legs in his hands. She wrapped them around his neck and he began to lap at her, fingering her as he did so.

“Oh, god, Eddie, yes.” She didn't know it could feel this good, didn't understand why all the other girls wanted to give up their virginities to their boyfriends on homecoming or prom night. She had never been that interested in boys or sex, mostly dating Jason because of what he could provide for her. They had kissed and gotten to second base, sure, but nothing like this, nothing so wanton and incredible could ever happen with anyone but Eddie. Beautiful, sweet Eddie, who a few days before had been no one to her. She couldn't believe she had ever been with anyone but him, had wasted most of their high school years that could have been spent together. She wanted nothing but him, felt like she could fall in love as he licked deeply into her. He was what she had wanted all her life but had been too blind to see, too caught up in what other people thought. As he grasped her thighs in his hands and pushed his face into her, she felt overcome with love and bliss and relief. She came, nearly sobbing, rubbing herself on his nose and lips and chin and grasping his hair.

He gave her clit one final kiss as he slid up to face her, face soaked and grinning. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she laughed, kissing him, tasting herself on his tongue.

They lay together, kissing and holding each other until Eddie's stomach grumbled.

“You hungry?”

“Must be. I think I forgot to have dinner. You must be hungry too.”

She shrugged. “I could eat.”

“Ok, I'm going to see what I can scrounge up.” He threw his jeans back on and rummaged through his drawer until he found a soft cotton shirt with the Led Zeppelin logo. He turned to her. “Do you want to change? Or...do you need to go? I mean, it's pretty early but I don't want to get you in trouble.”

“I love you.”

He turned to face her, looking puzzled. “What?”

“I love you.” She hugged her knees and looked at him with desperation. “I know it's only been a couple of days, but I really do, Eddie.”

He held the shirt in one hand, still unsure how to respond. “Maybe it's just the post-orgasm hormones. You know, they cause like, feelings of bonding and closeness and all that.”

“Eddie,” she gasped, looking close to tears.

“Ok, sorry.” He climbed back into bed, moving towards her on his knees. “Are you sure?”

“Yes! I've never felt this way about anyone, and everything I learn about you makes me love you more.”

He shimmied closer until his head was laying on her stomach; he stroked the inside of her thigh with his fingers. “I'm not, you know...not anyone to fall in love with. I mean, no one's ever said that to me so I figured I wasn't the falling-in-love with type. It's not like I have-”

“Eddie, please, none of that stuff matters to me. I love you, not the money you might make or the things you might do. I want you in my life, no matter what.”

“So, even if I end up working at the canning factory and selling dope to teenagers and living in a trailer park in Hawkins for the rest of my life, you'll love me?”

He turned to face her, trying to look serious but finding himself getting lost in her blue eyes. No one had ever looked at him that way, like he was worth something. Certainly no one as incredible as her.

She nodded, eyes glistening. He moved his body towards her for a kiss when they heard a sudden banging knock on the trailer door. Instantly, fear shot through Chrissy and she felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach.

“What the fuck?” Eddie asked, looking towards the living room. As the banging continued, Eddie threw on his shirt and made his way to the door. “Hang on a second. Don't move from there, okay?”

She looked up at him, clearly terrified. He shot her a quick grin. “It's probably nothing, Chris. Just someone looking for a fix or something.” He realized too late that it probably wasn't a comforting thought to share with her, but he squared his shoulders and strode towards the door, trying to look imposing.

Chrissy quickly grabbed her underwear and slid them on, knowing with every fiber of her being that it wasn't a junkie or anything else. She wanted to make her body move, to flee out the back door before it was too late, but she was too petrified to do anything but sit, shaking and trying not to sob. Her worst fears were realized when she heard her mother's strident voice echoing through the small living room.

“Where is my daughter, you goddamn delinquent?”

“Whoa, hang on, you can't just come in here and start demanding shit!” Eddie bit back, but it was no use. Chrissy forced herself to move her legs and walk out of the bedroom, where just a few minutes ago she had been in the throes of the greatest happiness of her life. Every muscle felt like it had turned to stone, but she kept going; she couldn't make Eddie face this alone. By the time she got to the living room, her mother, Laura Cunningham, was in Eddie's face, yelling about how she was going to call the cops if he didn't hand her over.

“Chrissy!” her mother shouted upon seeing her walk towards them. “What the hell have you been doing here?”

She knew she must look a sight, with her makeup smeared across her face and hair disheveled. There was really no getting around it; anyone could tell just from seeing her what they'd been up to.

“Mom, I'm...this is Eddie,” she mumbled, gesturing pitifully towards him. “We were...I mean, we kind of-”

Laura held up her hand. “I don't want to hear the details, young lady. Jason told me all about it.”

Chrissy's face scrunched up in disgust and confusion. “Jason?”

“One of his friends on the basketball team saw the two of you in the record shop today, all over each other. You disgust me, you little bitch,” she spat venomously.

Chrissy felt the familiar twisting in her gut that always accompanied her mother's verbal abuse. She glanced at Eddie, who seemed too stunned to speak. She shook her head slightly at him; no good could come from him trying to act the hero and stand up for her.

“Mom, Jason and I broke up today. I didn't love him, alright? He just wasn't right for me.”

“And this is what you choose instead?” She looked Eddie up and down as if he were a particularly disgusting bug in her morning coffee. “Chrissy, I can't believe you'd do something like this. Jason was a good boy, he had-”

“A future?” Chrissy spat back, feeling brave enough to speak for herself for the first time in years. “Mom, that doesn't matter to me. I can take care of myself, I don't need to tie myself to some rich asshole like you did with Dad.”

Laura scoffed. “A rich asshole? My god, what would your father think if he heard you talking about him like that? He has done nothing but try to give you a good life, the life I would have killed for when I was your age.”

“Do you really love him, mom? Did you ever, even for a little bit? Or did you just use him for his money and then make him feel like he was too worthless to get out, the same way you do to me?”

Her mother shook her head, laughing spitefully. “I don't know what this degenerate lowlife has put in your head, Chrissy, but I'm going to set you right. Just like when you were a little girl, remember?”

“You want to hit me again, mom? Go ahead. This time instead of hiding my arms with long sleeves all summer I'll go to the police and put you where you belong,” Chrissy responded calmly. She didn't know where her bravery was coming from; she had never stood up to her mother like this.

“You hit her?” Eddie asked, turning to Chrissy's mother disgustedly. “Your own fucking daughter?”

She turned towards him; even though she was a full foot shorter, she stood imposingly facing him down. “Eddie Munson, do I have that right? Oh, I know all about you, young man. You walk around that school full of innocent kids and terrify them with your Satanic antics, you push drugs on them because they don't know any better. Your parents abandoned you with your white trash uncle a few years ago, right?”

Eddie flushed but said nothing, standing in front of her with his arms crossed. Her mother chuckled spitefully. “I bet they knew what kind of boy you'd grow up to be.” She looked him over once more and suddenly turned to grab at her daughter. Chrissy jumped instinctually away; her mother lunged towards her again and wrapped her hand tightly around her daughter's arm.

“Mom, stop, let go of me!”

Eddie tried to step between them. “Hey, you have no right to do this! Your daughter's eighteen years old, and if she wants to be here-”

Laura turned towards him again, eyes blazing. “Let me explain something to you because clearly you're even stupider than you look. You deal drugs at Hawkins High, right? I bet if I walked around this shabby little shack I could find proof in a matter of minutes. Then I'll call the police and tell them my poor, sweet daughter has been led astray by the local trash, and they'll throw you and your uncle in prison.”

“He's got nothing to do with this! And while you're talking to the cops, lady, you can tell them you forced yourself into my home and tried to kidnap someone!”

She laughed. “Kidnap? This is my daughter, dear. All I'm doing is trying to take her home where she belongs, away from the local scum. And I don't know where you live, because it certainly isn't the real world. You really think the police in this town care about people like you over people like me? We donate to the police fundraiser every year; my husband plays golf with the chief. Who the hell are you to talk to me like that?”

“That's enough, mom.” Chrissy had wrenched herself away from her mother's tight grip and stood with her arms around her waist. “I'm not going to let you talk to him like that anymore.”

Laura smiled smugly. “And what are you going to do about it, Chrissy dear?”

Chrissy looked up at Eddie, trying to convey with her eyes just how sorry she was that she'd brought this on him. Her mother would never let up if she kept fighting; for now, she steeled herself for what she had to do. She walked straight ahead and out the door, looking down at the ground and trying not to let out the wail of pain that was building in her chest. When she got to the door of her mother's car, she gave one last look to Eddie, who was standing in the doorway incredulously. I'm sorry, she mouthed, knowing it would never be enough to make up for what had just happened. Her mother strode towards the car quickly, snapping at her to get in and put her seatbelt on. She got into the car and, as a small act of defiance, pulled her legs up onto the seat and wrapped her arms around her knees. Her mother hated when she put her shoes on her nice, clean car seats, but after the war she had just won, she doubted it would matter.

Eddie stood in the doorway shivering with cold and misery, feeling like his insides were disintegrating. Why had he just stood there and taken all that abuse, why had he let her talk to Chrissy like that? He didn't know if it was the way she'd barged into his home like a raging bull, or the shock of hearing such vitriol from such a small woman. He didn't think anyone could talk to their own child that way; even at their worst, his parents were neglectful and dismissive, not openly hateful like Chrissy's mother. The sound of the car pulling away broke him from his trance; he caught one last look at Chrissy's face before it drove away. She looked worse than miserable; she looked downright numb. A rush of feelings came back to him at once, and he started to chase after the car, not caring that it was already nearly fifty yards ahead of him, not caring about how stupid he must look running after a moving vehicle.

“Chrissy!” he shouted, trying desperately to catch up but knowing it was hopeless. “Wait, please!”

“Good lord, what an idiot,” her mother muttered, seeing him come after them in the rearview mirror. Chrissy turned to look out the back window; by the time she saw him, her mother had sped up and left him choking in a dust cloud. Eddie fell to his knees and pounded the ground, feeling like something irrevocable had just happened. “God!” he growled, sobbing like he hadn't since he was a small boy who couldn't understand why his parents would leave him. Back then, he was powerless to do anything about it, but here... His mind raced with a million things he could have done differently. He'd always thought he was the type to protect and care for the people he loved, but when it came time to prove it, he had just stood and gawked and let it happen. And he did love her; he thought about how she had opened herself to him, had expressed her feelings. Instead of saying it back to her, he had gone on the same old tirade about how inherently worthless he was; now, he wondered if he would ever have a chance to tell her he felt the same.

God, poor Chrissy.

He stood up shakily, dusting himself off and wiping the tears from his face. He wouldn't let it go down like this; she was too wonderful to be locked away with an abusive monster like that. He made his way back to his trailer; as the sun finally set and the cold fully set in, a mantra repeated rhythmically in his head. He hoped that, in some mystical, true-love fashion, it was able to make it's way to Chrissy.

Hold on for just a little longer

I'm coming back for you

Chrissy's father sat in their ornate living room, drinking a glass of top-shelf scotch and watching the evening news. When he heard their front door slam and the sounds of his wife berating their daughter filled the house, he sighed grimly and sunk into his chair, hoping she wouldn't make him a part of this. He didn't think there was anything wrong with their daughter dating someone who wasn't well-off, but his wife had blown a gasket when Jason had turned up at their door earlier, nearly weeping. It's not that I mind her breaking up with me, Mrs. Cunningham, I'm just concerned with the kind of people she seems to be associating with, you understand. He had honestly never liked that kid very much; he was too eager to please, everything he said felt like a facade. He was glad to see that Laura was dragging Chrissy up the stairs and away from where he could hear them; he slid a cigarette out of a pack he kept nearby and put it to his lips.

“Please, mom, you're hurting me!” Laura had a death grip on Chrissy's arm and was quite literally dragging her; she was afraid her shoulder would dislocate if it continued.

“That's enough, Chrissy,” her mother said disdainfully. “I think considering what you just put me through, a little pain is more than warranted.”

Laura opened the door of her daughter's bedroom and nearly threw Chrissy in, slamming the door behind her. Chrissy backed herself into the tight space between her bed and closet, trying to make herself seem small, knowing it wouldn't matter either way. She was at her mother's mercy again, little that she had.

Laura breathed in deeply, looking like she was charging up for an attack. After a moment, she spoke almost softly.

“Do you know how much you've embarrassed me, young lady?”

Chrissy had expected her mother to start shouting again. Her sudden quiet was more terrifying than her earlier rage; it usually meant that much worse was coming. She felt her knees wobble and wanted to collapse then and there but resisted the urge; defeated though she was, she tried to hold on to her one last scrap of strength and dignity.

“Mom, I'm sorry, but Eddie's right. I'm eighteen and you can't keep me locked away in here. I can spend my time with whoever I want, even if you don't like it.”

Laura's eyes flashed with rage. “No, Chrissy, I won't have it. Not a drug dealer. Not trailer park scum like that. We are a respectable family, a pillar of this community. I will not have my daughter associating with the criminal element. I'm not stupid, you know. You were always a good girl. That goddamn delinquent came to you, didn't he? I bet he made you feel special and exciting, maybe he even plied you with liquor or pills or who knows what. He seduced you, and now you've gone and...ruined yourself.”

Chrissy choked a sob. “I'm not ruined, mom, I'm not a goddamn piece of furniture! I went to him, and he befriended me, and I fell in love!”

Her mother strode towards her quickly and hit her across the face with surprising force. “Don't ever say that to me again,” she spat. “You are not leaving this house, you hear me? Not ever again.”

Chrissy laughed, cheek stinging fiercely. “What, you expect me to stay locked up here like a prisoner? I'll call the fucking police and tell them I'm a legal adult and you're keeping me here against my will!”

Laura smiled spitefully. “No, Chrissy, you won't. I had your father install a new lock on this door while you were out whoring around; it only unlocks, from the outside. And your window is bolted shut, see?”

Chrissy whipped her head towards her bedroom window, seeing it had been fitted with a new set of locks. Fear churned in Chrissy's gut, and she felt on the verge of hyperventilating. Was her mother really crazy enough to lock her in this room away from the rest of the world, just because she had spent time with Eddie?

“What...I have school and...what am I supposed to eat? Are you just going to let me starve to death up here?”

“Don't be so dramatic, Chrissy. I'll call your school and tell them you're sick, which you clearly are, at least in that little head of yours. And a few days of not eating will do you good, you look like you've gained ten pounds since I last saw you.”

Now Chrissy was really scared. Her mother was actually serious; she had planned this all out, and her father hadn't said a word against it, had even installed the locks for her. She had always known her mother was capable of cruelty and abuse, but this shocked even her. She looked quickly towards the door; she knew she couldn't make it, but she had to at least try. She bolted for it, ducking away from her mother's clutching grasp. She was almost there, she had her hand on the doorknob; her mother grabbed her suddenly by the shoulder and threw her to the ground.

“That's enough now! You'll get out of here when you learn what's good for you. A couple of weeks will do nicely, I think.”

As Chrissy watched in horror from the floor, her mother strode out of the room quickly and confidently; she heard the deadbolt slide shut and her mother's footsteps stomping away. She sat stunned, unable to make herself move from the spot where she had been violently flung aside. She was trapped like an animal; any hope she'd ever had of getting out of here, of being her own person and spending her life with someone she loved was dashed in a moment. Who knew if her mother would even let her finish high school now, or leave this horrible house ever again?

After a few moments of shock, she began to feel the pain from where her mother had grabbed and thrown her. She clambered onto her feet and dragged herself to her four-poster bed, wincing at her injuries as she lay down gingerly. Sighing, she brushed her hand along the delicate, white canopy curtains surrounding the bed; they had been a gift for her fifteenth birthday. She had begged for weeks for these same curtains in a deep maroon color that she'd seen at the local hardware store; when she opened the box to see they were white instead, she had not been able to hide her disappointment and started crying. After everyone had gone home, she'd had to pay dearly for 'embarrassing' her mother like that.

Chrissy slid her hand into a nearby desk drawer and pulled out a small sewing kit that she used to replace loose threads in her cheerleading uniform. She pushed the tip of a sewing needle into the soft meat of her palm, drawing a bit of blood. She smeared it on the curtain nearest her, leaving a vivid streak behind. There, she thought defiantly, a red fucking curtain. That wasn't so hard, was it, mom?

Eddie knew he had to wait until much later that night, when everyone was sure to be asleep, to get close to Chrissy's neighborhood. If any of the rich snobs living there saw his dark, suspicious-looking van even approach the pristine culdesac, he'd have all of Hawkins measly police force on his ass before he even knew what hit him. Officer, please, there's someone stealing little girls in the dead of night! Eddie glanced at the clock on this desk for the thousandth time; the digital, red letters stared back at him pitilessly: 10:37 PM. He groaned in frustration and was tempted to pick up his beloved guitar just for something to pass the time with, but he didn't want to damage it in his heightened state. Instead, he turned on the clock radio and flipped stations until he found something decent. The area where he lived was a little bit in the middle of nowhere (and Hawkins was already in the middle of nowhere to begin with), so most of the time the radio signal came through grainy and squealing. This time, though, like a beacon, he heard clearly

Been down one time

Been down two time

I'm never going back again

You don't know what it means to win

Come down and see me again

Tears started in Eddie's eyes and he lay down flat on his back, remembering the feeling of being here with Chrissy only a few hours ago. He knew that she didn't want his pity, that she was resilient and strong despite the things she'd lived through. But he couldn't fucking fathom how she could carry on, could go to class and cheerleading practice and play the part like everything was normal when she had something like that waiting at home for her every day. His mind went back to the first communication they'd had; in her note, she had said something about having visions she couldn't control. They had never gotten a chance to talk about what exactly she'd been experiencing, but Eddie guessed it was something like having acid flashbacks.

He'd never been a particularly anxious person, but occasionally when their funds were low enough that having to skip meals for a few days became a real possibility, he'd felt the urge to jump out of his skin buzzing just below the surface and had found it hard to concentrate on anything. Back when the parental abandonment had been a fresh wound, he'd laid awake at night, reliving the last argument he'd had with his father or the most recent cutting remark from his mom. Wondering, deep down, how much of it was his fault. As he got older, he'd come to realize his parents had had their own issues, and that him being caught in the crossfire was just the famous Munson luck of the draw. But he'd had years of distance from all that, and plenty of time to find his own way in the world.

Chrissy was different, though; she was still in the thick of it, and it might take her a long time to get past it, if he was lucky enough to get her out of there. He had no intention of letting her live with her parents any longer; he would get her away, somehow, and beg Wayne with every fiber of his being not to put her out on the street. He had never felt this way about anyone, not by a long shot. He cursed himself again for the cruel words and resentment he'd thrown at her; being around her had touched on an old wound, one that hadn't healed as fully as he'd thought it had. But she had put up with his hurt, had seen him at his worst and most vulnerable, and somehow come out loving him. It didn't seem possible, but maybe he wasn't as unlucky as he'd always thought. The station had switched to smooth jazz and was now playing an old John Coltrane standard. That usually meant people were wrapping it up for the night; the clock showed 11:05.

He sighed as he got up and popped a tight muscle in his back. He didn't know what this would entail, but he figured he should stay limber. Going into rich neighborhoods and sneaking people out wasn't usually in his oeuvre, after all. Chrissy was worth it all, though. She was worth everything he had and then some, he thought as he strode to his van, trying not to let the enormity of what he needed to do intimidate him.

No big deal, Munson, just saving the love of your fucking life from an insane monster who could throw your ass in jail for looking at her wrong.

He hesitated for one more moment, wondering if he was completely nuts, when Chrissy's low voice stole into his brain.

I don't see you running away or abandoning someone who depends on you.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, picturing her singing loudly to Pat Benatar, probably having real fun for the first time in her life. He pictured her piercing eyes looking through him, seeing him the way no one else ever had.

And you're the only one who even cared.

He smiled, feeling his insides churn with anticipation; as he turned the key in the ignition, he hoped that his luck would hold out just a little longer. If not, he could always make his own.

Chrissy awoke with a start; she had dozed off somehow and she saw that a few hours had passed. Her body still ached with injuries, but thankfully her parents seemed to be asleep since she didn't hear any noise from the rest of the house. Her father had probably passed out in a tipsy haze in his comfortable chair downstairs as usual; she wasn't stupid enough to think her parents still slept in the same bed anymore. Thankfully, her mother was already a heavy sleeper, and she usually wore fluffy white earmuffs to bed to block out any 'racket'. Chrissy looked askance at the heavily barred window, wondering if it was possible to just shatter the glass without anyone waking up. She walked up to it, sizing it up, then elbowed it with all her might, throwing her slight body against the glass. It didn't budge, and she dared not try again in case it woke her mother up. She sat on the edge of the bed with her face in her hands, looking for all the world like a princess waiting to be rescued from a tall tower, surrounded by orcs and dragons on all sides. She was so stupid, she thought, to think she could ever save herself. Stupid, weak, mealy-mouthed, obedient little Chrissy. If she couldn't even escape the clutches of her parents how was she ever supposed to find her own way in the world?

She thought of Eddie again, of the way he'd treated her with kindness and grace, had let her into his world enough to see that he was actually amazing. She had never felt so much herself as when she was with him. She wished it had been enough to stop the awful scene he'd witnessed; he'd probably never speak to her again, even if she did manage a way out of here. Who would want to deal with someone whose parents came into their home and insulted and threatened them? She had just stood there and let it happen, hadn't been brave enough to do anything when it mattered. What had she been thinking, trying to break away from her prescribed path in life? She slid off the edge of her bed and sank to the floor, wishing she could sink further and further down until all of it, her parents and Jason and Eddie and her future just washed away and she wasn't anywhere anymore.

An ancient-looking grandfather clock began to strike the hour, it's increasingly loud and distorted ticks reverberating throughout the small room. Chrissy's head whipped up to see it standing suddenly in the middle of her room, and her blood ran cold. Cracks began to appear in the glass of the clock, and hundreds of small spiders began to skitter down the clock body and make their way towards her. Chrissy screamed, jumping onto her bed and backing into a corner. She had seen things like this over the last few weeks, had seen a similar vision in the woods just before meeting Eddie. Deep down somewhere in her mind, she knew it wasn't real, and she tried to tell herself that. Her rational mind quickly fled however, as the spiders quickly moved closer and began to crawl up her legs. She batted them away frantically, still shrieking, certain that her mother would be awoken by the noise and come to her aid, but no help came.

After a few more minutes of smashing the spiders with her bare hands, they mercifully started skittering away from her. Her relief was stymied by the sound of a deep masculine voice, which seemed to echo not only throughout every corner of the room but within her own mind, as if it was coming from somewhere within her.

“Chrissy...” the voice slithered in her ear. “Your suffering is at an end.”

Eddie pulled slowly up to Chrissy's culdesac with his headlights off, barely breathing. He thanked any god who'd listen that his van was painted pitch-black, and that he'd just gotten his squealing brake pads replaced last week. He realized as he crawled closer to the well-manicured house in the darkness that he had absolutely no idea what he'd do when he got there; part of him assumed he would be caught before he could get this far, so he hadn't really planned this whole thing out. He silently pumped his fist in the air in jubilation when he saw a thickly branched oak tree that stood almost as tall as the house, stopping right at the window on the second floor. It was perfect for sneaking Chrissy out, assuming two things: he could jimmy open the window somehow without waking anyone, and that the windowed room was Chrissy's in the first place. It was his best and only chance in any case, so he quietly stepped out of his car and hoped like hell it wasn't the Cunningham's bedroom. He didn't think he could take the sight of the illustrious Mrs. Cunningham in her nightgown at this point.

“No...” Chrissy panted. “Please, let me out of here.”

A human-like being had manifested itself before her eyes, although it was not like any person Chrissy had ever seen. It was an imposingly tall figure with cloudy eyes that bore into her. It's body was made up of a writhing mass of slimy tentacles; it made her nauseous to look directly at the creature. She wanted to weep, to hide under her blankets until it all went away. She wanted to claw her own eyes out so she couldn't see it anymore; it's very presence felt like a lead weight around her heart and mind. She tried to reach deep within herself, to find something that she could use to fight the awful beast. The creature cocked it's head almost curiously; in a flash, it's face became the face of Jason Carver. For a moment, she was relieved, then it sneered menacingly at her.

“Fucking slut,” it hissed. “Knew you were trash from the moment I met you.”

“Stop,” she said, balling her hands into fists at her side. “You don't own me, and I don't owe you anything. You're just a dumb bully whose parents happened to be rich.”

Jason's visage narrowed it's eyes at her, then transformed into one of her cheerleading cohorts in a flash.

“Jesus, Chrissy, you gained so much weight over the summer. You're such a goddamn cow.”

“No!” she said loudly. “You're...just acting judgmental because you're insecure, too. I've seen you puking in the bathroom after lunch, same as me. It doesn't have to be that way anymore.”

Then the creature took the face of her father. “Sweetheart, don't you think you ought to listen to your mother. You know how she gets when someone defies her.”

The creatures voice became low and distorted as it finished, and Chrissy felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She felt like she was running out of time, like she only had so much left in her before she would be consumed.

“P-please Dad, you know that she only treats us this way because you let it happen! I wish you'd left her and taken me with you years ago! All the money in the world isn't worth being beaten down like this!”

Her father's face smiled and morphed into her mother's; Chrissy felt the small light of her courage being snuffed out in a moment.

“Chrissy, dear, I think it's time you listened to your mother for once.” The creature, still wearing her mother's face, began to reach it's hand towards her.

Somewhere, in the small part of her mind that was still in the real world, she felt her feet begin to lift off the floor.

“Goddamn...fucking leaves in my ass, motherfucker!”

Eddie cursed as he clambered up the tree, feeling the cuts and scrapes that would surely be that much more painful when his adrenaline wore off later. He vaguely remembered climbing trees in his younger days, but he had never gotten this high off the ground before; for every move upwards, he felt a swooping in his stomach. He clenched his teeth, determined not to look down; although he would never admit it, particularly not to Chrissy, he was a little bit afraid of heights. He'd had an older second cousin on his mother's side who had fallen off a ladder and fatally broken his neck; he vividly remembered the lecture she had given him about it and had sworn off climbing after that. Yet here he was, up who knew how high in the air, with only a flimsy set of branches to support his weight. He finally made it to the top of the tree, face dirty and hair disheveled; he settled himself onto a relatively sturdy branch and leaned forward, peering through the glass.

Chrissy was in the air.

Chrissy's feet were off the ground and she was floating slowly upwards.

“What the fuck?” he whispered hoarsely. Of all the things he thought he might see within the room, this was not super high on his list. He was stunned for a moment, unsure if what he was seeing was even real. As he sat pondering, she continued to rise into the air with her arms outstretched. He shook himself out of his stupor. Whatever the fuck was happening in there, it needed to be stopped. On instinct, he threw himself against the glass, nearly toppling forward off the branch. He caught himself in time, but the window didn't budge.

“Chrissy!” he shouted, hoping his voice would carry through the glass somehow. “Chrissy, wake up!”

Chrissy, trapped within her mind, stood stone still. The creature had her in his grasp; the tip of his horrific finger was barely an inch away from her transfixed face. She could do nothing but watch helplessly as he moved closer, like a lethal jungle cat striking at just the precise moment. She wanted to close her eyes and let it happen; what difference would it make now? As she faced the last moments of her young life, she tried to picture Eddie's face, to have one last moment of respite before giving into the inevitable. It swam before her eyes before fizzling away; the creature's claw-like hand was poised before her, ready to strike the final blow.

Chrissy, wake up!

She gasped, turning away from the monster. Somehow, through the haze, a small space was carved out, with the image of Eddie's panicked face at her window. She couldn't believe it; he had gotten to her, somehow, and seemed to be trying to break through the glass with brute force. The monster growled with impatience.

“Chrissy!” it rumbled. “You need to come with me now.”

She whipped her head towards the creature, eyes blazing. “Eat shit, asshole.” She gracefully slid under it's outstretched arm and made her way towards the door. It opened with ease, and she ran downstairs, muscular legs pumping wildly.

–

Eddie continued yelling Chrissy's name as loudly as he could. She was still in the air, although her ascent seemed to have slowed to a crawl. He reached into the pocket of his leather jacket; in the immediate shock of seeing Chrissy floating, he had nearly forgotten the sizable hammer he'd thankfully grabbed out of his van's toolbox. He began to hit at the glass, focusing on the top corner where it was most likely to shatter. A dog began barking an alert nearby; he grimaced but pressed on. He honestly didn't care anymore if he got thrown in jail for breaking and entering. This was all so far beyond his experience of reality, the last thing on his mind was the probable consequences once it was over. The glass wobbled dangerously; he gasped in delight and began hammering rapidly. Finally, it shattered, and he cleared as much glass as he could with the hammer, being careful not to send the shards flying towards his face.

He placed his forearms on the bottom of the window frame and heaved himself into the room with as much agility as he could muster. As he slid his body through the empty frame, he fell onto the bedroom floor ungracefully, nearly whacking his head against a corner of Chrissy's plywood nightstand. As he stood and looked fully at Chrissy, still hovering a few feet off the ground in a rigid pose with her toes pointed downwards, he saw that her eyes were clouded white and she looked to be in a deep trance. He cast his mind around frantically, trying to remember what he'd read about catatonia and wishing he'd actually paid attention in his senior psych class. He figured getting her back to solid ground was as good a first step as any to resolving the issue; he grabbed her ankles firmly with both hands and pulled downward as hard as he could.

–

Chrissy made it all the way to her front door before the creature caught up with her. It was locked from the outside, and she jiggled the curved handle frantically to no avail. As she threw herself against the door, screaming with pure panic, it approached her slowly, taking its time like a spider who's already caught dinner in its web.

“That's enough now, Chrissy. You're coming with me.”

“No!” she yelled, projecting her voice outwards like they'd taught her in cheerleading practice. “You're not real, you're in my head! None of this is real!”

“Oh, but I am as real as everything in your life that makes you so unhappy. No one is coming to save you now. This is what you've always wanted.”

“That's not true anymore! I want to live, please!”

In her mind's eye she saw Eddie, hair full of leaves and arms wrapped around her lower half, desperately trying to drag her back to reality, to him. Oh god, I want to live. The creature must have somehow seen what she had; he turned away from her with rage and disgust.

“Enough!” it roared, then reeled back and hit her full force in the stomach with preternatural strength. She sank to the floor, choking and gasping for breath.

Eddie was knocked back in a blast of pure energy; he didn't know where it had come from or what had forced him away from Chrissy, but it was enough to send him reeling. He could hear nothing except a tinny ringing in his ears for a few moments; when he shook his head and regained his senses, she had risen further, well beyond what he could reach even if he had been a star athlete. He felt on the verge of hyperventilating; she was surely going to die, all of this had been for nothing.

“Chrissy, please!” he shouted, not caring who heard. “If you're still in there, don't give up! Whatever the fuck it is keeping you in there, don't let it win! It can't win, this can't be it! I love you, Chrissy! Please come back to me!”

Chrissy sobbed, sitting crumpled on the floor and clutching her stomach. “Please,” she moaned. “I don't want this.”

The creature bent down to face her, looking almost paternal. “But you do, Chrissy. Don't fight this anymore.”

It reached it's grisly hand towards her again without hesitation and poised it to strike.

Don't let it win

I love you

Please come back to me

Chrissy gasped, hearing Eddie's voice coming through clearly, ringing in her ears. He wanted her back, more than anyone ever had. He'd risked his life and freedom to rescue her, and she'd be damned if she let it end this way. She stood up, not caring about the pain in her stomach or the vile creature before her. With sudden sureness, she elbowed the small glass window at the top of her front door and grabbed a shard of glass that had broken off. With a grunt, she sliced at the creature's eyes and face before it could respond. It yelled hoarsely in what she hoped was pain and clawed at it's wounds. She took the opportunity to run, although she didn't know where to yet.

“Eddie!” she yelled. “Eddie, please!”

“Eddie,” she moaned weakly, barely loud enough for him to hear when she was so high above him. “Eddie, please.”

“Chrissy...” he gasped, barely letting himself believe it. “Yes, please, Chrissy, I'm right here! Keep going! You can make it out of there!”

Before her, like clouds parting through the muck and filth around her, she saw Eddie, yelling and leaping, cheering her on. She grinned, moving as fast as she's ever had, thanking her awful coach for making her run all those laps.

“No!” the creature yelled, and the house shook with it's roar. “You can't get away!”

Just before she managed to make her escape, her mother stood before her with her hands outstretched pleadingly. “Chrissy, please, listen to me. I only want what's best for you.”

“Go to hell, you awful bitch!” Chrissy ducked away, jumping gracefully through the small gap with her eyes closed, hoping Eddie would be there to catch her if she fell.

Chrissy gasped as she came back to herself, and her mind flooded with relief. It was short-lived as she realized she was about ten or fifteen feet in the air and was now dropping rapidly. Eddie, with only a half-second to process what was happening, leaped towards the falling girl with his arms outstretched. He caught her by some miracle, and the weight of her plus the force of her fall sent them tumbling to the ground. He tried to shield her head from the hard floor with his hand, hoping like hell that she wasn't concussed. They lay panting for a moment, both bewildered and exhausted. After a while, Chrissy began to giggle with something close to hysteria. Feeling pretty close to losing it himself, he laughed along with her, placing his forehead gently on hers. After their laughter abated, their eyes met and Chrissy gazed deeply at him.

“Hi,” she said a little hoarsely.

“Hi,” he said, kissing her gently and holding her like he never wanted to let go. She sighed into his mouth and asked, “Did you really mean that? When you said you loved me?”

“Of course I did, Chrissy. I was just too up my own ass to say it before, but of course I love you.” He took her delicate hand in his, kissing her wrist like it was the most precious thing he'd ever held. He lay his head on her chest and she carded her fingers through his wild hair. “You've got dirt in your hair, by the way.”

“Mm,” he intoned, listening to her steady heartbeat and feeling like it was the most beautiful sound in the world. “Also, quick question, what the fuck was that? Like, with the floating and shit?”

She giggled again, grasping his upper body in her arms. “Oh, god, where do I start?”

They were interrupted by the sound of a key scrabbling at her bedroom door; it seemed like all the noise had finally woken her parents.

“Oh, fuck, we need to go,” Eddie nearly moaned, grasping her hand and pulling her up.

“No,” she said, turning towards him. “I got this.”

He looked at her wildly, shaking his head. “Please, Chris-”

He was cut off as the door opened; her mother peered in and her face turned paper-white.

“What...dear god, what happened here?”

Chrissy wasn't sure if her mother's shock came from Eddie standing in the middle of the room, or the completely trashed window, or maybe just the fact that Chrissy wasn't cowering before her as usual.

“Mom,” she stepped forward with Eddie's hand in hers. “I'm leaving. Like I said before, I'm an adult and you can't keep me here without my consent. It's called, um...” She looked to Eddie for help.

“False imprisonment?”

“False imprisonment! It's a third-degree felony, and just because you and dad schmooze with the police chief doesn't mean you can lock me in my room for the rest of my life.”

She spoke clearly and with confidence, seeing her mother as she was for the first time. She wasn't a monster or something she couldn't possibly hope to get away from; she was a mean, brutal woman who used her voice to make people afraid, that was all. In her thin robe, with her pale, haggard, face, she looked smaller and more pitiful than ever.

“Chrissy, darling, please...we can talk about this.”

“Let her go, Laura.” Her father approached and stood in the open doorway, assessing the little group in his quiet way. “If she wants to go, she's right, we can't stop her.”

“You...” Chrissy's mother turned to her husband, seething with hatred. “You stay out of this, you piece of-”

“My window!” he shouted suddenly with indignation. “What the hell happened to the window I worked all day on?” He moved towards it unsteadily, looking for all the world like he'd lost something precious to him. Chrissy stifled a laugh; he'd probably be more upset about the shattered glass in the morning than his daughter leaving.

“Who cares about your window, Ted? For Christ's sake-”

“Uh, ma'am? If I may...” Eddie stepped forward haltingly, looking like a novice actor on his first audition. “Chrissy can come stay with me...with us...with my uncle and myself. We don't have much in the way of luxury goods, granted, but it seems like some space would be good for the family dynamic at this point. And sorry about your window, sir.” He nodded towards her father. “Trust me, I wouldn't have wrecked such nice craftsmanship if it wasn't an emergency.”

He looked toward Chrissy, shrugging a little and grinning widely. “And, of course, assuming you want to stay with a couple of lowlife degenerates.”

She smiled, nodding. “I'd love to.”

Her mother sighed, flinging her hands into the air. “This is...don't expect to come crawling back here when you're penniless and knocked up, young lady. I expect this little infatuation will blow over in a few months and you'll be begging to come back.” She strode away, and Chrissy thought she could hear a strangled sob as her mother fled. She could almost feel sorry for her if the aching in her shoulder didn't still hurt so deeply.

“Don't worry, sweetheart,” her father said in a low voice. “You know she'll come around. You can always come home if you need.”

Chrissy wrapped her arm around Eddie's and rested her aching head on his shoulder. “Don't worry, dad. I think I already found it.”

Seven months later

“Come on, Eddie, I don't want to be late!”

“I'm trying, babe, but my hair won't fit under this goddamn stupid grad cap. I can't believe I paid actual money for this thing.”

Chrissy scoffed but soon broke into a smile. “You look great, trust me. And since you're finally leaving Hawkins High after three senior years, you can probably go on stage naked and the principal won't mind.”

Eddie smoothed out his green graduation robe and smirked. “Don't put any ideas in my head, now.”

“What's this about going on naked?” Wayne Munson approached them, wiping down a coffee cup and winking at Chrissy. She smiled; Eddie's uncle had become like a father figure to her, mostly silent and stoic but supportive when it really mattered.

“Oh, you know, just trying to find ways to make this day bearable, pops.”

He laughed gruffly. “What's so unbearable about it? You guys are both graduating, finally, getting out of Hawkins and going off to school together. On scholarship, thank the good lord.”

Eddie sighed, fiddling with his hair nervously. “I don't know, it's just...it's a lot to face. I'm excited, of course, and so is Chrissy, but...we'll have to leave you. And Hellfire. And the band...”

“Now, now...” He set his cup down and placed a hand on both of their shoulders. “None of that. There will always be other bands, and clubs, and even daft old men like me, wherever you go in this life.”

“There's no one like you, Wayne,” Chrissy beamed. “I wanted to thank you again for taking me in. These last few months have been such a relief, honestly. Like I have a real family for the first time.”

“Think nothing of it, my dear. You two are the greatest joy I could ever hope to have. Neither of you could ever, ever be a burden. You hear me?” He looked at both of them meaningfully. “You're going to do great things, both of you. It's been an honor to watch you kids flourish.”

Eddie laughed, wrapping an arm around his uncle's shoulder. “We're not going off to war, old man, just regular old Indiana State.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just take care of each other out there. The world is a wild place for a couple of dreamers. You both know that better than most, I take it.”

“I'll make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble, sir,” Chrissy grinned, taking Eddie's hand in hers.

“Not if I can help it,” Eddie shot back, winking.

“All right, now, go on before you miss the dang ceremony, I'll be right behind you.”

The pair made their way to Eddie's van, Chrissy's arm wrapped tightly around his.

“Hey, I'm not going anywhere, trust me.”

“I know.” She turned to face him, eyes glistening. “I just wanted to say, I'm really proud of you. And you don't have anything to be afraid of. I'm going to be with you every step of the way. After the shit we've been through, college is nothing.”

He grinned, kissing her. “Yeah, when you've faced down a literal fucking demon, intro to statistics doesn't seem too bad.”

She groaned, making her way to the passenger seat. “Speak for yourself, dungeon master.”

Eddie clambered into the driver's seat to see a single red rose placed on his dashboard. Chrissy looked at him slyly. "I always keep my promises, Munson."

"You sure do." He took her chin in his slender fingers, kissing her deeply before tucking the red rose deep within his curls.

"Very cute," Chrissy said, leaning back in her seat.

"It...kind of hurts actually."

She shrugged. "Every rose has it's thorn."

"Just like every night has it's dawn," he crooned back at her.

They sang together, just a little off-key, as they drove into the warm June morning.

[wingsofanillyrian]

Lights Over Monaco: Chapter 1

ITS HERE! I plan on updating this weekly/biweekly, based on how busy I am. Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list! 

Special thank you to my new F1 friend for inspiring this fic as well as being my beta reader, @acourtofcouture​ ! F1 fans out there, her fics are AMAZING

Chapter Masterlist

F1 Glossary

----------------

Nesta Archeron discovered Formula 1 when she was 9 years old. She woke before the sun one Sunday morning, quietly excited to have the television all to herself and watch whatever cartoons she wanted. But she couldn’t remember what channel they were on, instead flipping through the programs. She had almost given up when she stumbled across a race.

The moment she had seen the brightly colored open-wheeled cars flash across the screen, she paused. For whatever reason, the high pitched wasp-like scream of the twelve cylinder engines and the astonishing speed that the drivers were travelling enthralled young Nesta. She didn’t look away once for the rest of the race, or even for the post-race interviews and wrap up that most adults skipped. Something about it had her adrenaline pumping.

Nesta traded her dolls for matchbox cars, and when she grew older, picked up racing magazines instead of teen ones. Ever since that day, Formula 1 consumed her. No matter how the other kids or her two younger sisters teased her for it, her love for the sport never tarnished. 

She spent years getting up at 2 am to watch live races that were being held halfway around the world. Instead of going to her senior prom, Nesta stayed home and layed out her predictions for the season’s drivers and constructors championships. She didn’t know how to do anything half-ass. She poured her whole heart into the sport and devoted her life to it.

**********

Nesta spent her 24th birthday working. It wasn’t like she could request the day off, not that it mattered. The racetrack at Monaco was exactly where she would have been anyway, working or not.

A press pass got her through the first security checkpoint. The team tents loomed ahead as she waited for personnel to cross the unstriped asphalt, inching her car carefully through the throngs of people. She rolled her window down, soaking in the sound of air tools and snippets of conversations. 

Street tracks like Monaco were her favorite. They required drivers to push themselves with plenty of technical corners and dramatic incidents. There was less room for error, as the tracks themselves were not as wide. Drivers had to know their limits and follow the racing line closely.

Race tracks were Nesta’s comfort zone. She knew each track on the calendar like the back of her hand. Every turn was permanently etched in her mind like words on a tombstone. Race weekends followed a set schedule, something that she could appreciate. Friday: practice laps. Saturday: more practice, followed by qualifying, where each driver got the chance to set the fastest lap and secure a spot in the starting line up for the main event on Sunday.

Before she had graduated college, Nesta had managed to fully entrench herself in the world of Formula 1. Securing an internship at ESPN her sophomore year, she had made herself indispensable to the crusty old man that had been the senior track side reporter for decades. She studied everything he did and the questions he asked each driver, noting what changes she would have made. Somehow, he came to admire her spirit and taught her the tricks of the trade.

When he retired the year after Nesta graduated, he went to the board of directors and personally recommended her to fill his spot. She waited two agonizing days for their decision. 

Using whatever means necessary, Nesta had clawed her way to the top and cemented her reputation as the most cutthroat reporter in the industry. Her goal had been for everyone in motorsport to know her name, and in only two years, she had done so. Better yet, she had caught the eye of one of the fastest drivers on the grid.

Her phone rang just as she pulled into the press parking area. She answered, not bothering to check the caller ID. “Hello?”

Tomas’ velvety voice thundered through the speakers of her Civic. “Hey baby. You here yet?”

“Just pulled in,” She replied, touching up her makeup in the rearview. 

“Right on time for a quickie. Meet me at my trailer in five.”

Tomas had already hung up before she had the chance to protest. Both their reputations hinged on their relationship staying secret. If the press caught wind that she was fucking a driver, her credibility would go out the window, and Tomas would be the laughing stock of the grid. So sneaking into his trailer wasn’t exactly the type of discreet she was aiming for.

Tomas Mandray had been racing for Red Bull for two years when she had scored her first exclusive interview with him. He had just been awarded pole position at the Spanish Grand Prix in Barcelona, and Nesta had sweet talked her way into the paddock. It had taken minutes for his charming blue eyes to enchant her. He had won that race, and taken her to bed straight after. 

The sex was great, but that’s all it ever was. Their relationship was purely based on the physical; nothing emotional on either end. They had agreed on that from the start. Just sex.

Unfortunately for Nesta, somewhere along the way it had become something more.

Sighing, she put on her oversized sunglasses and hid her tawny hair under a gauzy scarf. The fashion wouldn’t stand out at all amongst the celebrities that frequented the Monaco Grand Prix. Going over the top here was expected; Monaco was known for its money. Due to the lack of income tax, Monaco was a haven for white collar delinquents and royalty alike. Lamborghini’s and Ferrari’s were commonplace, and women wore rings that could set a jewel thief up for life. 

No one bothered her as she strode towards the pit checkpoint, flashing her press badge to get by. She fell into her usual cadence, exuding an air of importance and invincibility. Seemingly without realizing, people moved out of her way when they saw her coming. The navy, red, and yellow of the Redbull tent came into view, and Nesta inserted herself into the crowd of mechanics and VIPs to get past security. Press wasn’t allowed in the area until after the race.

Nesta broke away once inside, heading down a back corridor. She knew the layout by heart, having walked the path many times. The door at the end of the hall led outside to Tomas’ private trailer. She didn’t bother to knock before entering. Tomas would already be waiting for her.

He set down his phone as she entered. “Finally,” He said with a savage grin. “We only have a few minutes.”

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

Tomas left as soon as he finished, donning his jumpsuit without so much as a kiss goodbye. Utterly used to the behavior, Nesta straightened her clothes and again touched up her makeup before heading back out.

She was scheduled to conduct a pre-race interview with Cassian Valle in the Mercedes tent in twenty minutes. Redbull and Mercedes were at opposite ends of the pit, giving her plenty of time to think.

Truthfully, Nesta was dreading the interaction. Cassian was an arrogant ass. She couldn’t stand interviewing him; all he did was skirt around questions and try to flirt, which made it incredibly difficult to get any headline-worthy tidbits from him.

Azriel Sainz, Cassian’s teammate at Mercedes, was much more amiable. He was mostly forgettable and quiet, but always gave her something to work with and was sometimes downright pleasant to talk to. She could understand why the public loved him, but not why they were so enamored with Cassian. Sure, he was a three time world champion, and that earned him plenty of fans, but he was just so… dreadful.

She made it to the Mercedes pit just minutes before the scheduled time, immediately spotting her tense cameraman, Jacob. Slim built, he was average looking, nothing special. He was sweet though, if not a bit of a pushover.

“Where the hell have you been?” He hissed, chocolate brown eyes wide. “Valle is waiting.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, handing Jacob her sunglasses and the scarf. “I’m here now, aren’t I? Not my fault if he was early.” Nesta accepted her microphone and rolled her shoulders. “Let’s get this over with then.”

“Happy birthday by the way,” Jacob added. Yes, there was the pushover side shining through. 

Nesta threw a grin at him over her shoulder. “Thanks.”

Cassian’s back was to her as she approached, his white Mercedes jumpsuit half on, the arms of it cinched around his waist. The crisp gray shirt he wore left little to the imagination, hugging his sculpted form. Good; at least that would capture the attention of any women that might be watching. As would the deep brown curl that fell in his face when he turned to her.

“If it isn’t my very favorite reporter,” He crooned, a grin plastered on his face. “Took you long enough to get here. I also hear it’s your birthday.” Nesta glared at Jacob. He shrank under her steely look, an apology stumbling from his lips.

“I would give you a birthday kiss, but I think you’d knock me out if I offered.”

Nesta pointedly ignored him, “Let’s just get on with it,” She said, motioning to Jacob to start recording. Once he signaled he was ready, Nesta breathed deep, the sweet scent of high octane fuel assaulting her senses. It steadied her, and she slipped into her professional mask before turning to the camera.

“As we all know, the Monaco Grand Prix offers drivers a unique set of challenges. The two-mile street course has 19 technical corners with little room for error. It is in Monaco that we get to see who has what it takes to be a Formula 1 champion.” She turned to Cassian, gave him a professional smile and continued.

“Last year, you had a puncture at turn seven when you ran over some debris. Coupled with the fumble the pit crew had with not having your tires ready when you came into the pit, you finished a disappointing 12th place, winning you no points in the driver’s championship. Do you expect that this year will be better, or will you stick to your usual aggressive driving style?”

Cassian laughed, running a hand through his unbound curls. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be changing anything. You can expect to see me on the podium, sweetheart. Most likely in first.”

Nesta grit her teeth. She couldn’t air that, and he knew it. “How about you answer the question without trying to piss me off?”

“It’s too easy,” Cassian said, that devilish grin returning. Nesta cut him a glare that simmered with violence. “Alright fine,” He relented, putting his hands up. “Go again.”

She repeated her question, and this time he answered, “I don’t really see any need to change my driving style, what happened last year was a fluke. I went wide on the turn and didn’t notice Vanserra's front wing until the last second and wasn’t able to change course.” Nesta nodded, encouraging him to go on. “I don't see myself making any mistakes like that this year. You can expect to see me on the podium, most likely in first.”

“Thank you for that Cassian. Good luck on the track today.”

“Thank you,” He said, waving at the camera. He paused before adding, “Though I won’t need luck.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and signaled for Jacob to cut the recording. At least that last bit could be edited out. “You are absolutely insufferable, you know that?”

Cassian shrugged, undoing the arms of his fire suit and slipping into them. “I do my best.” He winked at her before zipping up his suit, opening his mouth to say something else when the Mercedes team principal, Rhysand, barked at him to get his ass in gear. He gave Nesta a wordless salute before jogging off.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Jacob said, packing up his camera. “That guy has balls.”

“He’s a Formula 1 driver,” Nesta said simply, putting her sunglasses back on. “Of course he does.”

**********

Nesta watched the 78 lap race from the press box, silently cheering Tomas on. Each time the pack of cars passed, the windows rattled, doing little to muffle the engine noise. She chatted with the others as necessary, keeping one eye on the tarmac below. Tomas had started from pole position, and held onto first place until the final 10 laps. He had attempted to lap an AlphaTauri driver when the driver had failed to yield, violating FIA regulations. The two had bumped tires in what was ruled a racing incident, but Nesta knew better. Tomas had lost his cool and nudged the other driver on purpose, nearly sending him into the wall. 

It was a bad call on Tomas’ part, as the comfortable four second lead he had held over second place shattered. Nesta swore under her breath as Cassian overtook Tomas, her heart dropping when the other Mercedes driver, Azriel, did the same. Tomas would not be happy about that. 

When the checkered flag waved, Cassian was first, Azriel second, and Tomas third.  The winners parked before the podium, anger radiating from Tomas as he tore his helmet off. Tamlin, the Redbull team principal, said something to Tomas that had his cheeks burning red. 

Nesta grabbed Jacob and headed for the press room. They had a half hour tops before the post-race interviews started, and Nesta had to make sure she was front row. Though it didn’t matter where she sat; she always made sure her questions were answered.

It was more so for Tomas. She wanted him to see her, to see the understanding on her face and know she supported him even when he didn't win.

They were first to the press room, and Nesta had ample time to prepare questions. She couldn’t question Tomas, or she risked uncapping his rage. Instead, she jotted down a question she knew would shift the focus from Tomas to the Mercedes drivers.

Reporters began filing in, vying for the perfect spot and debating the race results with one another. Nesta remained in her seat, determined to maintain her composure as her stomach churned. Tomas finally entered, jaw set as he took his place on the stage. Nesta tried to subtly catch his eye, but he pointedly avoided looking at her. 

Cassian and Azriel entered, laughing and congratulating each other. Nesta noted the slight change in Tomas’ posture, the only hint of the blood boiling beneath his skin. Cameras flashed, reporters shouted, but still Nesta remained seated. Cassian, at least, sought her out in the crowd, and flashed her an ‘I-told-you-so’ grin when he found her. Once the clamor had died down, Nesta stood. The room quieted further, the others having learned not to talk over her if they valued their jobs. Nesta had a knack for digging up dirt on anyone she pleased.

Her eyes were still locked on Cassian as the moderator indicated she could ask her question. 

“Azriel,” She started, turning to the dark haired man, “You were lucky you were able to take second in this race, after the incident in turn twelve on lap 27 when you sustained heavy damage to your front wing, thanks to the actions of your teammate. Does it ever get under your skin that Valle’s overly-aggressive driving threatens your own position in the championship?”

The room was silent. Tomas hid his grin behind a well-manicured hand. Cassian’s eyes narrowed, a muscle in his jaw fluttering. Good; she had hit a nerve. Azriel shrugged, crossing his arms. 

“It was a racing incident. Could have happened to anyone. I don’t think the blame lays entirely with Cassian; I could have given him more room on the corner.”

And that was that. Nesta didn’t ask any more questions, but she could feel Cassian glaring at her throughout. At the end of the interview, all three drivers thanked everyone before leaving.

As Nesta made her way back to her car, she texted Tomas.

You okay?

Her heart pounded as she waited for the reply. Her phone buzzed minutes later.

I’ll be home late. Party at the Redbull house.

Oh. Okay. See you later then.

“Happy birthday to me,” She muttered, stuffing the phone in her pocket.

Nesta wasn’t sure why his reply stung, but it cut deep. She had hoped that he would want to see her instead of going to another party and spend time with her on her birthday. Instead, he would probably stick his tongue down another woman’s throat like usual. She couldn’t really blame him. Their relationship had to remain secret and to do so, Tomas had to maintain his playboy aura. It wasn’t really cheating if she had agreed to it.

But if that were true, why did it hurt so fucking bad when he did?

Some of her tension eased when she finally spied her car in the lot. The Blue Bullet, she had nicknamed it, due to the strikingly bright paint. It was the first purchase she had made upon being promoted, and it had since become her pride and joy. She had chosen it because it set lap records left and right when it had hit the market a few years back, and she had craved speed her whole life. On city streets, this car was the closest she could get to experiencing Formula 1 without completely breaking the bank.

“How about you don’t ask stupid fucking questions next time your prettyboy loses?”

Nesta’s breath hitched. Your prettyboy. The accusation was clear. Her hand slipped from the door handle, turning towards the voice. If he knew… If he knew about her and Tomas, they were done for. She willed her voice into solid steel.

“Cassian. I would advise you to choose your next words wisely.”

He placed a hand on her Civic, getting in her face. “Racing means you have racing incidents. I don’t expect you to understand, seeing as you’ve never been behind the wheel of a real race car.” He sneered at her car, the insult striking home.

Fear faded, replaced by a rising wave of scarlett rage. Nesta’s gaze stuck to where his hand lay on the bright blue paint, utterly vexed by the infringement. She bared her teeth at him, rising to the challenge in Cassian’s flaming hazel eyes. 

“Get. Off.”

Cassian started at the command in her tone and obeyed. He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “Understanding the nuances of Formula 1 is my job description. I asked about that incident because I knew it would piss you off. Looks like I was right huh?” Her temper was getting the better of her. “And by the way, would it kill you to give me a decent quote once in a while, instead of always trying to get in my pants?”

“I do not-”

“Oh go fuck yourself,” Nesta scoffed, yanking the door open. 

The corners of his mouth twitched upward as she slammed the car door. “I was already planning on it.”

Those parting words haunted her drive home, even as she took the long way in hopes of blowing off steam. She shifted through the gears, throwing the Civic around corners much faster than was probably safe. Nesta didn’t care; her head was a mess. At least he hadn’t mentioned anything more about Tomas. Maybe Cassian had just thought she had a crush, based on the way she had been looking at him during the conference. Gods, she couldn’t get Cassian out of her head. 

His grin followed her up the stairs to her apartment, where she snapped the curtains shut. She couldn’t bear to look out over the track any longer today. 

Those words echoed in her head as she brushed her teeth and crawled into bed alone. Swam through her thoughts of Tomas, as she struggled to keep her eyes open when the clock showed 1 am. As she finally gave in, they were her last thought. 

I was already planning on it. 

@aphoeni @planet-faerie  @nina-zcnik @linsimin @that-little-red-head @teagoddess99 @enpointe10 @electronicstrawberrystrawberry @awesomelena555 @iptneus @weesablackbeak @wonderland--memories @nessian-trash-heap @magicalwaterfall @perfectlyimpxrfect @cassians-wings @valkyrie-archeron @acourtofcouture @nesemryn @chloepereyra @illyrianshadowhunter​ 

[andwereallmadhere]

You’re Not Alone | Jean x Reader

Paring: Jean x f!reader (slight Eren x reader mentioned)

Genre: FLUFF!, song fic

Word Count: 4.5k 

Warnings/ Triggers: Alcohol, underage drinking 

A/N: I was inspired by the Big Time Rush song You’re Not Alone (Link below). This is not the first thing I have written, but it is the first I am posting. Characters might be OOC but I feel like the overall feeling is there. I hope you enjoy!

Link to song: https://youtu.be/tbS5JF32szE

I bet you didn't notice First time your heart was broken You called me up and we talked til the morning

Jean is woken from his sleep by the harsh ringing of his phone. He fumbles for a minute trying to slide the little green button to answer the call. He puts the device up to his ear before stuffing his face back into the pillow, “Why are you call me it’s the middle of the night?” Sleep heavy in his gruff voice. He is quickly answered by your voice sobbing on the other end of the receiver. This immediately broke him out of his sleep-filled mind. He should have known when he saw your picture flash on the screen that you would only be calling if it was important. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He says wiping a guilty hand over his face. You didn’t respond. Still unable to form proper words through all the tears. He continues to quietly talk to you in an attempt to calm you down. Once the sobbing ebbs he finally asks, “Y/N, can you tell me what’s wrong?”

He only hears you choke out a single word, “Eren.”

Jean and Eren never did get along, in however long you and Jaeger had been dating. But, as your best friend, Jean tried his best to accept him since that would make you happy. So hearing that HE is the reason you are crying at 2 A.M. enrages Jean. 

“What did that bastard do? Did he try something you didn’t want? Do I need to beat him up? Y/N, I swear to god if he hurt you I will-“

“No Jean. It’s not like that.” “Then what is it like?”

“He dumped me.”

“Y/N…”

“He just came by my house and told me that “I’m just over it I guess”. What am I supposed to do with that?”

“He’s a dick, I’ve told you that from the beginning.”

You only respond by sobbing more.

Eren had been your first real boyfriend. And as much as Jean didn’t want it to be true, you were head over heels. Everyone knew this would happen eventually, he just hoped there would be a little more warning. Maybe a fight or something but just cutting it off without a real reason? Jean had theories that he was probably hooking up with someone else and didn’t want the guilt of being a cheater, but you didn’t need to hear that right now. You didn’t need overprotective Jean hating on Eren. You needed best friend Jean to comfort you and assure you that you are worthy of love and everything is going to be okay.

“Hey, you can do better than him. He’s the real loser here. Any guy would be lucky to have you and the next one has to go through me first.” Jean says half meaning it, half attempting to make you laugh.

“Stop it, Jean, You know you’d lose every fight.” He can almost hear the smile in your voice, despite the tears that are certainly still running down your face. 

“Why don’t I come get you? We can go for a drive or something.”

“Okay.” Your soft voice is followed by a sniffle.

“I’m on my way.”

Jean gets out of the warmth of his bed and finds his sweatpants. He throws on a hoodie and grabs an extra in case you forget to bring your own. It's pretty chilly out tonight. He grabs his keys and begins the drive to your house. Once he arrives he sees your form sitting on your porch. Always the gentleman, he walks over to you and offers to help you up. You grab his hand and he can still see the tear stains on your cheeks. Once you are on your feet he pulls you into a hug. “Hey,” Jean says returning your tight squeeze. “Let’s go get you some food.” 

You don’t respond, but your grip around his waist losses and you begin making your way to the car. He opens the door for you and watches as you immediately grab the spare hoodie and slide it over your head. It’s obviously too big for you, but you are grateful for the extra fabric to bury your sad face in. 

The ride is mostly silent, Jean wanted to give you room to talk if you wanted. After a bit of having his hoodie pulled up to your nose, it was clear that you were too caught up in your own drowning thoughts to say anything so he turned on a very soft playlist from his phone in hopes of providing you some distraction.

Jean stops the car and you see he has brought you to a Waffle House. He knows it your favorite. Sure the food isn’t great but there is something about the mediocracy of the establishment that gets you. “Come on slowpoke, I’m buyin’,” Jean says after opening your door. You give him a thank you before following him into the restaurant. 

The two of you find a small booth, given that it was well into the night, there weren’t any people there other than the handful of employees. “You’ll have to talk to me eventually you know,” Jean says. You take a moment to look up from the menu he knows you have memorized by now. Just then a waitress comes by to take your order. 

Jean already knows exactly what you want because you always get the same thing. Just as he tells the waitress your order you finally speak, “Hey Jean.” Your voice is slightly above a whisper, “can I have chocolate milk?” You look back down at the table while Jean turns back to the waitress, “And can the lady have a chocolate milk, please and thank you.” Jean smiles at you as the waitress walks away, your silly request signaling that his best friend is slowly but surely coming out of this shell of sadness. 

Sure enough, you begin to open up. You tell him more of the details about Eren dumping you. Your food arrives and you laugh when Jean spills his glass of water on his lap. The two of you eventually move to the barstool countertops to talk to the fry cook, trying to convince him to make you a pancake instead of a waffle. Eventually Jean pays, leaving a generous tip as an apology for your late-night shenanigans. 

Walking to the car you can see the pastel colors of the impending day reaching the sky. Not ready to go home yet you lean into Jean’s body, tugging on his arm, “Let’s go watch the sunrise!” 

“You’re ridiculous.” He says shaking his head, “get in the car.” He smiles and opens your car door. Of course he was going to let you watch the sunrise. He is going to drive you to the park and find a place high up and the two of you will talk about nothing at all until you fall asleep in the passenger seat of his car. He is really just happy that the outing has worked. No, 4 A.M. waffles cannot cure your broken heart but it at least made you smile. 

And the time that you were stranded I was there before you landed He was a no show, I made sure you got home

High school seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Graduation came and went and your family decided that you should spend the summer at your aunt’s house on the other side of the country. Of course, you loved your aunt and her kids, but spending your last real summer break away from your friends wasn’t a huge selling point. Ultimately, your mom said you had to go because the trip was already paid for and your aunt was expecting you. The only reason you eventually agreed was that the majority of your little group were all attending the same college, so at least it wasn’t goodbye.

The day before Freshman move-in everyone decided to throw a party at Eren and Mikasa’s house. Eren’s parents were out of town a lot so that is usually where the gang got together. Jean and Eren still don’t along great, but Jean was close to Sasha and Connie who happened to be okay friends with Armin and Mikasa, and thus your little group was formed for better or for worse. After the night Eren dumped you out of the blue, Jean was furious with him, only for you to accept Jaeger’s lame-ass apology and take him back a week later. Luckily there hadn’t been any more repeats of that night. Maybe Eren was telling the truth and did actually like you, so Jean played nice even if he didn’t fully forgive the brunette. 

And now he was here, with you on FaceTime while you wait for your flight at the airport and Jean is getting ready for Eren’s dumb party that you won’t even make it to. 

“So when does your flight get in?” Jean asks folding the remains of the load of laundry his mom did this morning. 

“I think about 11 if it’s not delayed again. I’m super bummed that I won’t make it in time for the party.”

“It’s at Jaeger’s house, can’t he just bring you by after he picks you up?” 

“I guess so, but he also said something about taking me home because it’ll be late and we have move in tomorrow.”

Jean hums in response. It is a valid argument logically, but none of them have seen you all summer except for the occasional FaceTime. The only real reason Jean was going to this stupid party was that you were supposed to be back in time. Jean can hear a voice come over the intercom in the airport. “Hey, Jean, that’s my flight. I gotta go.”

“Alright, Y/N, let me know when you land. See you soon.”

With that, the call ended. Your face replaced by a photo of you and Jean at prom making silly faces. Yeah, Eren was your date and Jean took Mikasa, but you all took photos together and his mom insisted on getting one of the two of you. It was obvious that the picture pissed Eren off, and that made it even more special to Jean. 

Eventually, Jean finished the laundry and headed over to Eren’s. At least everyone else will be there and he can kick Connie’s ass at beer pong. Jean purposefully arrived a little late, so he knew everyone else would already be there, and sure enough, Eren had the white folding table already set up in the garage and Armin had started a little bonfire in the backyard. “Horseface You made it!” Connie says throwing an arm around Jean. 

“I told you not to call me that.”

“What are you going to do send Y/N after me? Oh wait…She’s not here!”

“We both know Y/N could easily kick your ass so shut up.”

Jean went around greeting everyone else and made good on his promise to dominate at beer pong. A while later he takes a seat next to Armin, who was currently roasting a marshmallow. “Ever put peanut butter on a s’more? Whole new experience.”

Armin looks over at Jean, “Y/N show you that?”

“Oh no, secret’s out,” Jean says taking a drink of water. After the game of beer pong, which was a little closer in score than Jean would have enjoyed, he decided to take it easy on the booze so he could actually drive home.

“When does her flight get in anyway?” Armin asks removing his marshmallow from the flame. 

“She told me about 11 when we talked earlier. Said Eren was going to pick her up.” 

At the mention of his name the two look over to see Eren taking a shot with Sasha and Connie. “Did anyone tell him that?” Armin says with a small chuckle. 

Jean looked at his watch, it was only 9, if the bastard stop drinking now he might be sober enough to come get you. So Jean let it slide. 

But Eren didn’t stop drinking. It was now 10:30 and Eren was plastered. Jean watches as Eren and Connie arm wrestle and sighs. What would Y/N think if she saw her boyfriend like this? “Shit,” Jean says standing from his chair around the fire. This gets the attention of Armin and Mikasa who were also over Eren’s drunk bullshit, “What is it?” Armin questions. “Y/N. Eren is supposed to pick her up from the airport in 30 minutes.”

“Well, that’s not happening!” Sasha laughs, also drunk. 

Jean stood up and finished his soda before pulling his car keys from his pocket. 

“And where are you going Horseface? Afraid you’ll lose in arm wrestling?” Eren suddenly joins the conversation. Jean cannot believe this asshole, he doesn’t even realize! Jean contemplates throwing a punch, but that will inevitably start a fight and the airport is almost 40 minutes away so he’ll already be late. So instead, Jean crushes the soda can in his hand and walks away. “Ha! Horseface is a scary cat!” Eren yells at his back before Mikasa smacks Eren on the head. 

Jean’s anger melts through the drive. As upset as he is that Jaeger forgot, Jean is excited to see you. He’s not sure how he’s going to explain this one to you though. He parks his car and glances at the time, 11:15. At least you haven’t been waiting too long. 

Luckily the airport is pretty small and there are only a few incoming flights so it’s not hard to figure out which gate your flight should have landed at. He thinks it's a little odd you haven’t texted him that you landed safely but he dismissed it as he made his way to the gate. Jean is surprised to find the gate empty. No hugging families or people searching for their luggage. There are a few scattered people here and there, also apparently picking up various passengers. After talking with another guy, Jean finds out that the flight had been delayed before take off so it is running late. You were not stranded at the airport, you hadn’t even landed. 

Jean found a seat and began scrolling on his phone. He didn’t expect to have so much time so he didn’t really bring anything with him, not even headphones to listen to music. He sat waiting for what must have been a solid 30 minutes before he started to fall asleep in the chair. 

“Jean!” He hears your voice call, this rouses him from the light sleep. Once he sees your face he can’t help but smile. He stands to walk over to you but is practically knocked over when you throw yourself into his arms. “Hey, stranger.” He says wrapping his arms around you. 

“It feels like it has been forever!” You pull away from him and reach for your suitcase, but Jean beats you to it, grabbing the handle before you can. “I can carry it you know.” But you know it’s useless arguing. Mama Kirstein raised a gentleman, that’s for sure. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be at a party?” You ask, giving him a side-eye as you follow him to his car. “Yeah…about that…” Jean still hasn’t figured out exactly what to say about why Eren ditched you. 

“Eren drunk himself stupid, didn’t he?” You say, almost casually. Like you expected it all along. 

“Yeah, but lucky for you I know a guy with a soft spot for you.” Jean places your things in the trunk before opening your car door.

“My shining stallion, always coming to my rescue.”

“Yeah, yeah, get in the car Princess.” He says. Eren’s stupid horse jokes have started rubbing off on you.

You spent the whole drive telling Jean about your trip, even though you talked with him almost every day you were gone. Jean in turn told you all the ridiculous things Sasha and Connie did while you were away. They still had group game night, which surprisingly Eren and Jean only tried to kill each other a handful of times. You laugh when Jean tells you the full story about Connie smashing Sasha’s face into a cake she brought one night, claiming “There is never a bad time for cake.” Sure they all sent you the pictures but you still loved hearing the story. And before you know it Jean pulled up in front of your house. 

He carried your suitcase to the door and turned to you, “I’ll pick you up at 6 alright?” Right, Jean offered to drive you to orientation tomorrow and it was a four-hour drive to the University. With all the excitement of seeing your best friend, you forgot about college tomorrow. “Ugh so early? That’s like 4 hours from now” 

“Unfortunately. Even then we’ll be cutting it close.”

“Fine. I’ll see you at 6.” You say giving him a final hug.

“Jean," you say into his chest, “I’m kind of glad it was you and not Eren that picked me up. I missed you. Thanks for always being there for me.”

“For you. Always.” Jean returns your hug before walking back to his car.

All the days that you were stressed out Feeling like pulling your hair out They were all missing but I was here listening

Freshman year came and went and now you were currently crying over your trigonometry textbook before your final tomorrow. Your other finals had gone pretty well and other than this stupid test you were finished with your first full year of university. Surprisingly Jean and Eren didn’t kill each other despite being suite mates. Originally the two were supposed to be roommates, but Armin quickly volunteered to switch with Jean, the blond being a little more equipped to handle Eren. You on the other hand shared a dorm with Sasha and Mikasa. Since it was the three of you you managed to snag a bigger room and didn’t have to share a bathroom with anyone else. When the gang got together for movie night it was usually in your room since the boys lived just down the hall. Overall it had been a pretty good year. 

Everyone else had already finished their finals, the majority of your group moving back home on Wednesday, except Jean who had his last final today. Jean also offered to stay an extra day so you could drive home together, but he would never say that out loud. “I’m gonna use the extra time to relax since Jaeger is gone. Living with him for a year almost killed me!” He would claim, ever the dramatic. But you knew he was also staying for you since you didn’t have a car and he did a similar thing for winter break. 

Trig had been your worst class all semester. No matter how many times you worked through the problems you were always getting a different answer, usually the wrong one. Armin helped you study for your midterm, but since he was already gone you were left alone. While your overall grade wasn’t bad considering you did all of the extra credit options your professor offered, this test could make or break your final GPA. If you could get at least an 85% it would bump your grade from a high C to a low B. So you have been doing nothing but math since your other finals finished this morning. And you were about to cry. Again. After completing the study guide and taking half a dozen practice tests you aren’t anywhere close to what you needed. After grading your last practice test, you barely managed an 80% and that was being nice to yourself. 

“I’m never going to get this.” You sob, ink running from the tears now spilling onto your paper. Then there is a knock on the door.

“Who’s there?”

“The pizza guy?” Jean says from the other side of your door. At the mention of food, you realize you hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning, which wasn’t saying much since you had a muffin and cup of coffee after Mikasa yelled at you for forgetting to eat earlier in the week. But you didn’t want Jean to see you struggling this much. Yeah, you could talk to him about anything but he was always so gifted when it came to school, even graduated top of the class in high school. So the idea of him seeing you brought to tears by something he saw as easy made your heartache. You were afraid he would accidentally make fun of you in that cocky way he does, or he would offer to help but realize you were a lost cause before ditching you altogether.

“Go away, Jean. I’m studying,” You yell back, attempting to hide the overwhelming stress from your voice.

“Well take a break, I wasn’t joking about the pizza. Mikasa told me you haven’t been eating so you better open this door, Y/N, before I resort to drastic measures.”

You give up getting him to go away, plus that pizza sounds so good. You get up and open the door, “And what would these ‘drastic measures’ be?” 

“Sasha left her keys in our dorm, so I probably would have just walked in.” Jean finally takes a look at your face, and despite your efforts to wipe away your tears, Jean knows you’ve been crying.

“Y/N what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure? You-‘ You cut him off before he can finish. “What kind of pizza did you bring?” 

“Your favorite, of course.” Jean sets the pizza on your bed while you grab some drinks out of the little micro-fridge. Jean glances at your desk and quickly takes in the scattered notes and tear-stained papers. Suddenly it makes sense. Your lack of eating, how you haven’t been responding to texts, and the tears when you opened the door. “I can help you you know? I took Trig last semester.” 

“I told you not to worry about it.” You say attempting to be mad at him for snooping but it’s pointless. You take a seat on the bed and open the pizza box, “Horseface.” You add almost in a whisper. 

Jean visibly shrivels at the name, “No. Not you. Not allowed.”

This small comment was enough to change the subject, and his mild anger at such a stupid name pulls an amused smile out of you. The two of you eat and converse as usual. He tells you about his last final and how Eren left their shared bathroom a mess that he needs to take care of before you leave tomorrow. You talk about how one of your professors just showed a movie during the final period since they are required to hold class despite not actually giving a test. And you feel the stress leave your body, even if just for a moment. 

After a while, Jean looks back over at your desk before grabbing your textbook and the last practice test you took. “This isn’t bad, Y/N, looks like some simple mistakes that you keep making, fix those and you’ll be fine.”

“How can I fix something I don’t know I’m doing wrong?” You ask.

“Because I’m going to help you, idiot.”

Jean proceeds to walk you through your last practice test and showing you the mistakes he was talking about. After helping you do a few more problems, Mr. Kirstein makes you do another practice test that he’s going to grade. While you take the test Jean lays on your bed, scrolling through his phone. He’s trying not to look at you, not wanting to add more pressure to you by feeling watched. 

After you are finished you pass him the paper and watch as he marks up the pages with a red pen. Eventually, he turns to you and gives you back the test, a solid 83%. Not as good as you hoped but you don’t want to discredit Jean’s tutoring. After walking through the test you look at the clock, it's currently 1 A.M. 

“Well Y/N, your test is first thing in the morning and I don’t think stressing yourself out more is going to help you at all.”

“But what am I supposed to do? I need an 85!”

“You need sleep,” Jean says, packing up your study materials.

“One more practice test, then I sleep, I swear.’

“Sleep now. Maybe you can do another in the morning.”

There is no use in arguing with Jean, he always gets his way. Once the study materials were all put away Jean takes your laptop and opens up Netflix, knowing you won’t be able to sleep if you were still worked up. The two of you sit side by side on your bed watching some stupid movie until Jean notices your eyes have closed and your breathing has evened out. As quietly as possible Jean closes the laptop and climbs out of the bed. He puts a blanket over your sleeping form and turns off the light before closing the door to your room. 

The next morning you wake up with a text from Jean. Opening your door you find a fresh coffee and a doughnut waiting on your doorstep. “That idiot.” You mumble to no one, but gratefully pick up the small meal he left for you. After eating you get ready to go and resign to looking over some notes before the exam. Once in the classroom, all the stress from last night comes crashing back. You just have to keep reminding yourself that a C in trig isn’t bad. Your GPA will still be above a 3.0, barely but still. And before you know it your teacher has told you to begin your exam so you log on to your computer and start your test. 

The good thing about the test being on the computer is that you’ll know your results immediately. After going over the answers a second time you finally hit the submit button. You stare at the little blinking cursor as it checks through all your answers, holding your breath. Suddenly your final grade pops up on the screen and you can’t stop the tears that slip from your eyes. You gather your things and head back to your dorm. But you find Jean waiting outside the building, leaning against the car without a care in the world. “JEAN!” You practically scream upon seeing him. He can see the tears on your face, “It’s okay, Y/N. Trig is pointless anyway. You still did great even if you got a C.”

“I did it! Jean, I got a 90%!”

“That’s my girl!” Jean says giving you a high five.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, teach.” You say giving him a big grin.

“Come on, Y/N. I say we get you a celebratory milkshake before we drive home. Jean says opening the door for you. Your eyes follow him as he walks around the car to the driver’s side. You are lucky to have him in your life. Yeah, he can be kind of an ass from time to time, but his heart is always in the right place. 

'Cause I'll be right there (right there) For every minute This time, it's no different Whatever happens you should know 'Cause you're not alone, girl Look over your shoulder You don't have to wonder 'Cause you know, you know, you know You're not alone, girl

[pinkhairedlily]

He waits for her to break the spell

Prompt: Dates | AO3 link here | Connect with me on Twitter. (Belated) Happy SS Month everyone! 🌸🍅🥗 @ssskmonth

A/N: Almost 3,000 words so this is quite lengthy as well. 😅

Waves break against the cobblestones on the shore. Sasuke picks apart the shiny seaglasses with his eyes as they glint against the fading rays of the sun. His legs alternately swing with her on the seawall as they silently watch the small fishing boats dock at a nearby port. A flock of seagulls fly above them, calling it a day and coming home.

He waits for her to break the spell.

They’ve been here before, and several times the gaps were filled in with laughters, awkward conversations, and hushed confessions. He grew up with her, their houses on the same block, same primary schools, same favorite parks, but he never talked to her. But he knew her name, and she knew his. They knew each other’s families. It was one of those instances when you just saw a steady familiar face as you go through the motions of life.

He took a month’s worth of leave after the unfortunate car crash, and he settled back in quite all right, much better than his older brother who remained catatonic and would never truly grieve until his adulthood. The first week after, she followed him home, a few meters trailing behind him but close enough that he was always in her line of sight. He didn’t mind; after all, their houses were on the same block.

Then one day, she pulled his drifting mind to safety when he almost walked into an open manhole. The distances between them shortened in the following weeks until she walked beside him, even with no conversation.

She brought him here on the eve of his parents’ first death anniversary. They raced against the looming cumulonimbus with their rickety bikes after she ambushed him in front of the school gates after class. And he followed her, even when she said nothing, even when there was a storm coming.

When they arrived at the dock, the fishers were hurriedly tethering their boats to the steel posts, knowing the possibility that they will be strung away but trusting the hold the rope has, nonetheless.

It was a big storm and large drops were starting to pour down, but she stood on the edge of the seawall with arms stretched out to her side, her rose hair in disarray around her face, her eyes closed to welcome the fall of the rain. And just as the usual, he followed her, his body straining to keep upright against the gusts. He remembered feeling the rain come down like pellets, and he was sure he winced in pain. For the first seconds of that moment, he regretted coming along with her. Insane, irrational, dangerous – two teenagers soaking up the storm. But he felt it welling soon enough, the emotion he spent twelve months bottling up. It began to rack up slowly, accompanying his deep breath, and following his exhale, continuous sobs lost in the whistle of the gale.

He waits for her to break the spell.

The place has become solace for him. His signal was sometimes a pebble thrown at his window at four in the morning. Huddled up in a blanket he bunched in his bag pack, they sipped hot chocolate from the same thermos, their legs brushing against each other as they waited for the sun to rise.

“I want to be in the same class as you,” Sakura said, the blanket completely covering her head except her eyes, and he couldn’t tell whether it was a joke.

“That’s very clingy of you.” He tried to lighten it.

“And beat you in recitations and assignments and grades.”

“Clingy.” He repeated.

She loosened the blanket from her head and stuck out her tongue at him. “So what?”

So what, indeed. He only realized this as he fell into a deep sleep after they went home – they missed the sunrise, and that was their first conversation.

Sometimes the signals were just a wave – after classes at the gates – and they would bike to the seawall, just in time for the sunset. He cannot exactly pinpoint the exact date he gave her a mixtape, but the following afternoon, she brought a portable cd player and they listened to it with an earphone each on their ears.

And he doesn’t know why or what it was that triggered him, but he held her pinky finger with the long earphone wire in between. His memory was of her laughing, removing her finger momentarily from his touch and engulfing his entire hand with hers. It was warm and rough against the surface of the seawall.

He waits for her to break the spell.

They ditched prom, she dressed in an emerald dress that matched the intensity of her gaze, in two-inch heels, and messy bun of pink curls, and he in a classic black tuxedo set handed down to him by a cousin in the next city over. They would have won prom king and queen, but they traded the first dance with the meandering waltz through the busy streets in his motorcycle.

It caught him offguard, the way she looked ethereal without the distraction of a busy port or its harsh blinding lights. She was in company with the murmur of the waves and the soft echoes of a bustling city at night and his silent presence. They stood on the seawall, hand in hand, and her head was at a perfect height to lay on his shoulders thanks to her heels. She did the gesture while humming a song by The Cure. It was on her mixtape, but the title escaped him.

“Why don’t we dance, Sasuke?” She lifted her head and twirled around on the precarious ledge, her trust solely on his grip on her wrist.

“You told me you didn’t want to dance.” He pulled her in closer and placed both of her arms around his neck while his hands went to her waist.

“I want the stars as our audience,” she chided as they swayed side to side to an invisible beat. She started to sing in an offkey manner, and she laughed in between words when Sasuke didn’t bother to hide his regrets.

We’re never done with killing time, can I kill it with you

Till our veins run red and blue…

We come around here all the time

Got a lot to not do, let me kill it with you

She laughed harder when he joined her, his deep, sultry voice accompanying hers in a disconcerted rendition of the song.

You pick me up and take me home again

Head out the window again

We’re hollow like the bottles that we drain

You drape your wrist over the steering wheel, pulses can drive from here

We might be hollow, but we’re brave

“And I like you.” He reached through the small gap between their faces and captured her lips in a kiss. Soft, plump, cold. And she opened her mouth in response, welcoming his tongue with a smoldering warmth. They found their way to his empty house, his older brother a shell of pill-induced sleep, and they fell on his bed skin to skin, teeth to teeth, bones to bones. Her dress and heels on his floor and her rose strands on his pillow, fanned out and clenched through his fingers.

He waits for her to break the spell.

She was moving away. She told him this a month before graduation. Medicine in her dream school. He congratulated her with a sincere smile. He even tucked stray hair behind her ear, and she smiled back just as brightly.

Two days before her departure, they met here again at the peak of the port’s busiest harvest season. She cut her hair and dyed it black. For a change, she said.

“Why don’t you come with me?” she asked unprompted. Before this, she gave him a box of memorabilia, of things she wanted to leave behind with him.

Things she wanted to do away with. Things she doesn’t want with her.

Sasuke smirked. He put his hands inside his jacket’s pockets, afraid of holding her hands. “Why don’t you stay here with me?”

“You’re right. That was a selfish question.” She waved her hands in front of her as if to dissipate the weird atmosphere. Then, she looked at him with those piercing jade eyes. “But I wish you would, get out of this city, see the rest of the world blah blah, you know the script.”

This isn’t a miserable town when you are here, Sakura.

“Leave the grief behind,” she finished.

The doubts crept in. “So it was pity after all.”

That hit her bad, and her face contorted into a series of emotions, too fleeting for him to name everything at once. But she never got full on angry with him. The most argument they had was a cold shoulder that lasted for a month. “I was just offering you a chance to start over.”

“As if I cannot start over on my own,” he supplied.

“In this place?”

“This is my home, Sakura.”

“This isn’t mine,” she replied. “I can’t stay here. You know my dreams.”

He knew them all too well. He saw the pamphlets and brochures of the university stacked on her desk, and the map of the world gobsmacked on the wall of her room with pins on specific places and post-its of attractions. It didn’t escape him that there was no pin for their city or a post-it with his name. It was a hovering observation that haunted his head for years, and that eventually, he would have to decide.

But the world was too big for him, too expansive that he was afraid of the grief he would have unlocked at every place he stepped in. Sasuke smacked his lips together and nodded. “Keep in touch, will you?”

His hands fumbled with a box inside his pocket. I can’t follow you everywhere, Sakura.

“At least don’t remember what I felt as mere pity.”

It was a desolate moment, their seemingly absent outburst of emotions contrasted by yells of traders in the small impromptu market that assembled on the dock. She nodded, both knowing that it was an empty promise. She proceeded to stood on tiptoes, and he met her movement with an embrace as their lips touched for what felt like was a final kiss under the searing sun.

He waits for her to break the spell.

The waves come after midnight, Sasuke noticed. Sporadic sleepless nights comes in twos or threes or sevens, and he would glance at his weather application on his phone, swiping until he finds her city and wonders what she’s up to.

The text found him at his third cup of coffee before sunrise.

“It’s a great day to be out and about, sun will be shining today!”

Her city was in the middle of a hurricane path.

But she wasn’t. She was in front of his doorstep several years after she went away. Rose hair, emerald eyes, and a smile that he constantly chased in his dreams. She was back for the summer only, a quick break, a breather in her other words.

His caffeine-induced soul followed her footsteps out of his house and through the grocery aisles. He doesn’t engage her in conversation, but she has her hand in his, twirling now and then, euphoric to be in his orbit for a moment.

And he lost control of the script he prepared in his mind and the list of reasons why he shouldn’t be meeting her again because he, too, was euphoric to revolve around her again.

To refamiliarize all of her contours, to explore the new dips and marks that carved her skin, to taste the places she went to, to get a glimpse of her new batch of memories, to fill his senses with her being.

He parked his car beside the seawall one night, and Sakura waved him over, two bottles of beer already drained beside her.

“I heard Itachi got married.”

Sasuke halved his bottle before replying. “Izumi. Gentle but firm, dependable also. They liked the mountains more than the sea so they’re on the other side of the city.” He paused and drank the other half in one gulp. “How was….the world?”

“Shitty.” Sakura laughed. Spite, remorse, regret. “Med school is all right, aced it, like how you aced your law school.” A proud smile right there, and he caught that she implied she was keeping tabs on him even though there were no letters and calls, only sparse texts in few and between of the usual how are you and the default reply of I’m okay. “The rounds are what’s bad, like I’m always giving away a part of myself every time I treat. I have self-awareness and I’m empathetic, but I can only give away so much. There’s nothing I can take in return anyway. And life is moving too fast. Someone’s getting married, someone’s having a kid, and I’m stuck in scut duty with 72-hour shifts and I come home to no one.”

“And you feel lonely.” Sasuke summed it up for her.

“I wish I believed you when you told me this was my home.”

She swooped in into his space to place her lips on his mouth, and he allowed her to fill him in. He lost all reasoning when she appeared in his doorstep at the beginning of this season, and he will again lose all reasoning when it was time for her to go back. So he savored all what she could give.

Even if she was oblivious that he has given all of him, for her to take and not return. Like a boat capsizing in the middle of the storm and following the waves down to the bottom.

He waits for her to break the spell.

He waits for her to break the spell. Stars dots the transitioning purple sky, and the seaglass now glints against the moonshine. She pushes the stop button of the cd player even though it was no longer functioning, and they don’t have earphones on.

“I’m getting married.”

He knows even before she uttered the words from her own lips. He saw the band on her finger when she drifted through the grocery aisles with a silver-haired man a day ago. He twirled her in between shelves regardless of the bemused faces of onlookers, and he made her laugh out loud to the extent that she clutched at her sides.

And Sasuke wished he didn’t hear her laughter through his rushing thoughts.

“Congratulations,” he simply says.

“It just happened. He’s actually a schoolmate of ours, but he moved out to the next state for senior high. Kakashi? Does the name ring a bell?” Her face is animated when she says his name. “We met in the hospital. Turns out he’s a resident there too.”

God forbid he remembers him. All his memories conjure is this seawall and her face, her rose hair, and her emerald eyes. Sasuke doesn’t know what to reply.

She sighs. “You know what I’m trying to say. We’ve always been two halves of each other.”

He doesn’t want to reply. He wants to ask a hundred questions instead. What things remind her of him? Does any sea, dock, or fishing boat transport her to memories with him? Does she see his face in the middle of grocery aisles? Did she ever love him? Did she ever have regrets? Would they have ended up together if he followed her? Did he fight for her enough to want her to stay?

“Just a minute,” he says, but it’s almost a plea. “Just a minute more.”

And she holds on to his hand and intertwines her fingers with his against the rough surface of the seawall. She scoots closer and lays her head on his shoulder, a bit broader than what she might remember, and he hopes to gods that she is memorizing his scent just as he is memorizing the curve of her head on his neck and the feel of her now long rose strands against his cheeks.

“I love you.” Sasuke doesn’t expect a reply, and even if she does answer back, he knows all too well that they don’t have the same gravity as his.

“I love you,” she whispers in his ear.

Not a minute later she stands up, dispelling the spell that hovered between them, walking towards a place he cannot follow no matter how he wishes. And he sits on top of the seawall an hour longer, alone with the shore, the stars, and the silent dock.

He pulls out the velvet box from his pocket and stares at the ring that should have been on her finger. He closes it and flings it to the sea.

What is wrong with me that I made a fluff prompt angst? Anyway, please listen to 400 lux and Hard Feelings by Lorde for full effects. Thanks for reading!

[daydreamreality]

So on and off I’ve been writing this super long post on some of my thoughts about Gilmore Girls. And something I wrote made me go, “wow, the evidence against AYITL just being the season ASP didn’t get to do is really stacking up because the two things I can see Jess being around for in season 7 is what he does in the revival except the circumstances with Liz are different.” SO. Hear me out. If the reason we didn’t get a “real” Lorelai/Luke wedding was budget restrictions (I call bullshit, why did we need TWO musical numbers)...well let me take you on a made-up journey of the end of season 7 on the CW with ASP showrunning. Without Netflix freedom and money to throw her unrestricted last hurrah with GG, we get our series finale with a full-on Luke and Lorelai wedding because, well, why wouldn’t this be the ending of the show??

I now realize that getting Luke and Lorelai married in one season after the shitshow that was the end of season 6 might be difficult so let’s just assume this is handled in a mature and healthy way and they’re back and better than ever! Because I honestly didn’t think about that bit when this scene popped in my head and made me go “WHY, it could have happened! And now I need to tell everyone!” And I’m not really in the mood to go about theorizing this AU season 7 in full.

Rory still has to get pregnant but not want to be with the father because ~*fULL cIrcLe*~. The way I can see this happening is Logan goes off to London, their long-distance relationship is a lot rockier, and she eventually finds out that Logan has been cheating on her. OR Logan convinces her they should open the relationship up; Rory is not comfortable with this but is too emotionally invested in him to let him go yet. Either way, the hurt she feels has her breaking up with him for real, is very sad, blahblahblah, and they end up having a “last hurrah” together that gets her pregnant. WHY? Because FULL CIRCLE. 

So we’ve seen Rory break up with Logan for good, she’s pregnant but we don’t know that, and we’ve gotten some sort of “window scene” that shows Jess still has feelings for her. WEDDING TIME. For real this time with family and guests and ceremony! Town square or Dragonfly Inn, take your pick.

Maid of honor and best man start the show. Jess is hilariously nervous because that’s my favorite look on him, ngl. While waiting on Rory to meet him, we get a nice little look between him and Luke of familial love and respect across the room. Jess gets distracted by Rory appearing and his whole face goes soft, and the proud smile on Luke’s face quickly devolves into a smirk because Luke has his number and knows he’s still got it good for Rory. Jess glares. I laugh. Rory is unaware of this moment of amazing communication and is nervous as well, but puts on her best brave face and walks arm-in-arm with Jess in all her beautiful grace.

Now for the actual ceremony, I could never even begin to come up with something as heartwarming and beautiful and hilarious as ASP or a talented fic writer. But I’m gonna throw in the detail that for some reason the officiant they booked can’t get there and Kirk has to step in last-minute because of course he’s an ordained minister. He throws in way too many personal stories and exudes his awkward charm (cut to appalled looks between Emily and Richard), but overall it goes surprisingly well (cut to proud, tears in their eyes like in Lorelai’s Graduation, MY HEART). We also get one little Jess and Rory smile at each other all shy and romantic-like because I wanna see it.

Now we’re at the reception. Rory comes up to Jess all cute and happy, “come dance with me.” Jess is like, why would I do that, blank stare. “It’s tradition.” Super cute innocent smile she knows will get anyone to do anything; Jess is not immune and is already going to say yes but he has to be difficult, Rory knows this.

“What tradition? And why would you think that argument is going to work on me?”

“Best man and maid of honor traditionally share a dance.”

“*rolls his eyes* Your mother is not going to care, and frankly would probably prefer not to have a picture of us dancing.”

“*pulls out the big guns* You owe me for prom.” Not unkindly, clearly in a joking manner. (I KNOW THIS IS A TROPE BUT I LOVE IT OKAY)

Fake hurt, clutches his chest “OUCH.”

The dance starts a bit awkward and stilted, but they slowly relax and enjoy themselves. Jess cannot waltz. Neither can Rory. We’re getting served some serious “Reflecting Light” vibes tho with the shots, set design, and another beautiful Sam Phillips number. The parallels are being thrown in our faces. We LOVE IT. We EAT IT UP.

Jess goes to make the slightest move to bring her in closer when a wave of nausea comes over Rory. She backs away quickly, and Jess does a “did I do something wrong” look/line like after the “Then She Appeared” kiss. She’s got her arm covering her mouth, looks panicked, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” runs out of the party. Luke notices and asks what’s going on. “I don’t know, she looked like she was sick?” “I’ll get Lorelai.”

Lorelai searches for Rory and finds her crumpled on the ground crying, sweaty hair, make up ruined, just completely unraveled. She tried so hard to keep this secret to herself for Lorelai’s big day, but she is too overwhelmed and tired. Lorelai settles in next to her, pulling the hair out of her face, “Oh honey, what’s wrong?” Rory cries harder.

After some good Lorelai hugs, Rory calms down slightly, looks at her mother distraught:

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m pregnant.”

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IF YOU’RE OUT ON THE ROAD