#long story short he graduated and moved cities it's been 3 months

[alasy]

advices are welcome because i ✨dont know anything anymore✨

[scorchedthesnake]

March 7, 2011

I moved to New York City in August 2010. My life before New York was something I’d grown completely unsatisfied with: I had moved to Connecticut for graduate school in 2001, had weathered two recessions in the relative security of academe but could see the writing on the wall for the doom of that profession and so had, via my teaching assistants union, begun to work for our international union as a communications staffer. This had given me a way out of Connecticut, though escaping the cultish environment of the union would still take a few more years.

The person I was back then was very unlike the person I am now. I wasn’t very much fun those first nine months in the city because I was just so afraid of everything. Bars scared me; too many strangers. Clubs scared me; too dark and too many unknowns and unpredictable scenarios. I was happy to be in a new place but petrified by what that freedom actually meant, and I had yet to find any place to belong or feel at home in.

I worked on 7th Avenue back then, around 27th Street. I remember sitting in my dreary cubicle that Monday, when I got a message from my best friend Matt, asking me if I wanted to go to a show that evening. No, I said, I really just want to go home and hide from the world. It’s the show John (O’Malley) is working on, he said, and he got us comps. Well what kind of show is it, I asked? “We’re gonna, like, chase sexy dancers around a warehouse.” Oh god that sounds so stupid, do I have to? “Just come with me, if you hate it you can leave.” 

So around 7pm I walked over to 10th Avenue and the block was so dumpy back then – junkyards, warehouses, not much else. I saw a small line of people gathered at the address I’d been given, so I approached and was handed this card:

I don’t remember anything about checking in or what it was like seeing Manderley for the first time, though I do remember Maximilian being there, giving a short speech and then we were taken to the elevator. I remember getting off the elevator on 3, and taking far too long to explore an empty Macbeths bedroom before, I suppose, figuring out I should investigate the other floors.

I’ve told this story often, though: at some point I came across an extremely attractive man moving quickly, so I did what it seemed like many others were doing: I followed him. We were in the 2nd loop by now, and I had realized it was a loop; but my target soon was running down High Streeet and through a darkened door and it slammed in my face and, to my surprise, was locked.

Oh, there are secret things all over here, aren’t there?

So I picked up his trail again as soon as I could, and stuck as close as I could. Including when we stumbled down all the flights of stairs and I wondered, should I call for help? Is the performer injured? But I stuck to him like glue and when he again approached that darkened door I was close enough to get inside.

And so the highlight of my first show was seeing Luke Murphy in interrogation.

After the finale I reconnected with Matt. We had, of course, seen completely different shows. As we exited we saw John. “Did you get any one on ones,” he asked? One on whats? “Well, I had one where the man in the lobby took me into a room and started putting on makeup.”

No we hadn’t seen anything like that. We immediately set about buying tickets for later in the six-week run. And we wandered the streets for a couple hours after that, comparing notes, feverishly reconstructing what we had just experienced. 

Obviously I did not sleep that night.

So much of the time you don’t know when everything has changed. You realize it long after the fact and in retrospect. Not this, this I knew was a fundamental shift. I’d never felt my senses at full alert like that, my mind racing trying to make sense of something so visceral. The music rang in my ears for hours, days later, and I knew when I came back, I’d need a plan.

[myculinaryblogtx]

Day 1: The New Job

Hello readers, it has been an eventful week...

I'm sleep-deprived, and my body is sore, but I feel fulfilled.

For the last month, I have been working at a second job at a bakery/brunch spot downtown.

I initially applied for a baking position to gain experience before graduating. But they needed someone to help expedite and run food, which is no problem as I have been a food runner at a fine-dining steakhouse for the last two years. I thought it would be similar, but I was wrong.

In my first week, I had to learn how each dish on the menu was plated correctly. The kitchen is small, but it can make fantastic food. Thankfully, the menu was new, so everyone, including me, was learning how the dishes were supposed to look, and I caught on quickly. If anything can catch my attention, it's food. Learning about the different garnishes or sauces that went with each dish was stressful but informative.

For example, we are doing a Japanese Omurice with spam fried rice. This is a typical Japanese dish, but we add hollandaise on top, a citrusy, dark soy sauce on the side, and garnish with pork floss and seaweed. It is one of my favorite things on the menu!

I don't get to garnish the dishes often at the steakhouse as most of the kitchen does it behind the line. My main objective there is to put the food in the correct order before it goes out to the guests. The most I do is ask for compound butter and sauces or pour some ketchup for fries.

But at the bakery, I get to make the plates look beautiful, and knowing I was the one who did them drives me further to pursue my studies at school.

For my latest development at the Bakery, one of my managers called me when I was visiting some family and asked if I was still interested in working on the actual bakery side, as they needed some help.

Eagerly, I accepted. They asked about my school schedule and what day I would be available for training, and the only day I was available was Halloween. I knew it was going to be an early morning, so I planned to sleep in on Friday, but fate had other plans.

A few days later, on Sunday, they posted the schedule, and my heart sank.

I had to train 4am-7am on Wednesday and Thursday.

I am not a morning person, and my usual shifts start at 9am on Saturday and Sunday. This was going to pose a challenge for me.

But I knew what I was getting into, so I sucked it up and braced myself for the hectic week ahead. On Monday, when I drove home, I promised myself that on Tuesday night, I would go to bed and wake up at 2am, as I don't live close to the city and get there early to make a good impression.

Well, long story short, I failed.

Instead of waking up at 3:30am, I woke up at 7am!

Pissed, I got dressed and ran out the door, hoping I could get to the bakery and see if I could do anything, but my manager texted me about it, and. I explained what had happened, and he told me to not come in, but he would move that training shift to Friday... Great.So, no sleeping for me then. I drove back home and went to right back to sleep. Later in the day after talking to my mom, dad, and my boyfriend, I had a plan.

I would just stay up all night.

I am a night owl so it was not that hard. I played video games and chatted with friends, and then an hour before the shift, I washed my face, changed my clothes, and left the house at 3:30am.

After waiting for someone to open, I eventually began training! I was mainly taught how to fulfill the orders we had for someone who was going to pick them up at 6 a.m. I also learned how to finish off the baked goods, such as adding chives to the bagels, powdered sugar on Danishes, and how the fruit was to be cut and presented on the pastry.

Then, I learned how to prep the next order for the later shift to bake. I would Pull dough out from the freezer and set the number we needed aside to proof. On my first day after all of that, I helped make butter pats.

Essentially, we took parchment paper and folded it into a kind of envelope. Then we had huge blocks of butter, which I used and sliced lengthways. I aligned them in the folds of the parchment and closed it back up before pounding it with a rolling pin so it would come together for my trainer to make sheets of dough for croissants.

On the second day after doing the same thing but solo, I prepped out some cookies and brownies before I was let go and drove straight home to pass out before going to my other job at 3:30pm.

I know baking is a lot, and I know it will take me a lot of drive to work out the kinks in my plans, but I feel good about this.

Next week is not as hectic. I still have to get up early, but only at 9am on Thursday and 7am on Friday. Much better. They plan to train me in actual baking and proofing. At least, that's what the note said. I am going to go check on my chicken thawing in the kitchen and think of what I am going to eat, as all I had today was coffee, 2 pieces of bacon, and a bowl of buttered noodles. They are not the healthiest choices, but I'm a broke college student, and beggars can't be choosers.

Till next time, my friends! And if you want to stay notified, follow and tag yourself below, and I'll add you next time I post!

[sahrademir]

statistics | connections spreadsheet | headcanons | pinterest

ABOUT

Full Name: Sahra Almira Demir

Nickname: N/A

Age/DOB: March 17, 1992 (32)

Zodiac Sign: Pisces

Gender: Cis Female

Place of Birth: Briar Ridge, SC

Neighborhood: Beach Front (lives with her best friend, @lia-lozano)

Sexual/Romantic Orientations: Bisexual / Biromantic

Religion: Muslim

Occupation: Former Host of a Home Reno Show on HGTV (kind of like Flip or Flop, Fixer Upper, and Good Bones), Current part time (2-3 days/nights a week) bartender 

PERSONALITY

Goals/Desires: To make a place for herself by herself in the design world, to get her own show on a network not connected to her former fiance, learn how to ride a bike 

Fears: Bed bugs, free falling, breaking a bone

Hobbies: Those diamond ‘paintings’ (she was influenced okay?), hand knitting, yoga, walking along the beach, karaoke, learning to cook, teaching herself various DIY skills (soldering, woodwork, etc); really she just loves to learn new things whether that be a skill or information

Likes & Dislikes: the smell of wet paint, singing in the shower, anything smothered in cheese, backwards ballcaps, movie soundtracks, laughing so hard no sound comes out, crispy french fries, that spark of inspiration at the beginning of a new project, bubble baths, manifesting, ocean sounds, extra ice, fuzzy socks, semi-frozen uncrustables with raspberry jelly // mismatched patterns, ikea furniture, clothes with high collars, unread notifications, unpainted nails, daylight savings, her retainer, raw onions, being rushed, dares, having to make any kind of appointment, the smell of ketchup, putting the dishes away, cold pizza, getting sawdust in her hair, broken nails

TLDR;

Sahra is 32 and was born and raised in Briar Ridge. Big middle child energy (probably because she is a middle child). Was a theater kid in high school, very much loves to sing and dance. Moved to New York City after high school graduation to pursue her (at the time) dream of becoming a Broadway star. While she was a struggling wannabe artist she was making Youtube videos/vlogs of her fixing up her small af studio apartment. Slowly, as her Broadway dream became less and less of a reality she quickly fell in love with DIY and design so she juggled going to school for design, a classic waitress job, and auditioning for shows and voice and dance lessons, etc. She met who she thought would be the love of her life (spoiler alert: he wasn't), and got a solo as a chorus line member in a big show around the same time. Things were looking amazing, the guy's family's company (HGTV) was even interested in her getting her own DIY show. She ended up moving to LA and got said show with ex man. They shot to stardom (think like... Flip or Flop or Chip and Jo Gaines kind of thing) with their show and got engaged. Things were so great until they weren't. Long story short, their engagement ended because she wouldn't convert to his religion- at least that was the excuse he gave. She moved back to BR six months ago, completely heartbroken, and moved in with her childhood bestie, Lia Lozano. Her ex has recently been seen with another woman and it’s made her question everything she thought she knew about him and their relationship.

TIMELINE

March 1992 - Born & Raised in Briar Ridge

June 2010 - Graduated High School

August 2010 - Moved to New York City to pursue her Broadway dreams

September 2016 - Met and started dating her future fiancé, Kyle

March 2017 - Was cast in Hamilton's ensemble at the Richard Rodgers Theater (she even had a solo!)

May 2018 - Moved to Los Angeles with Kyle to begin filming their DIY Reno Show for HGTV (think of it as a combo of Flip or Flop and Fixer Upper)

February 2022 - Got engaged on Valentine's Day, with Kyle proposing while cameras for their show were rolling

June 2024 - Her engagement, relationship, and show ended in one fell swoop

July 2024 - Moved back to Briar Ridge to mend her broken heart & moved in with her best friend, Lia

End of October 2024 - Starts working as a part time bartender for both The Rusty Spur and Golden Hour

November 2024 - In a 'I'm totally ready for this' (but not really) moment, she redownloaded social media and unblocked her ex's name from her phone only to find out he was married now and his new wife? Well she was eight months pregnant (yes, the math wasn't mathing)

Mid-January 2025 - Finds out Kyle and his new wife named their daughter the name Sahra had planned to name her daughter (her great grandmother's name) and she threw her phone into the ocean in anger and hasn't replaced it yet

BIOGRAPHY

Born and raised in Briar Ridge, Sahra is the middle child of Ayda and Zekai Demir- two first generation Turkish immigrants who met in college and fell in love

Was raised in a very loving, but oftentimes strict Muslim household - while she rebelled in her own ways, she never felt like she couldn’t tell her parents something or couldn’t go to them with a problem - the Demir’s were and continue to be a close knit family unit

It’s said (by her tbh) that she was singing and dancing before speaking and walking, and while that’s a bit of an exaggeration Sahra has been musically inclined since she was small

It was a surprise to absolutely no one when the oftentimes dramatic middle child grew into a theater kid

It was also no surprise when, after graduation, Sahra decided to leave Briar Ridge and move to New York City to pursue her longtime dream of becoming a Broadway star

Of course, getting into that scene and becoming the big headlining name she dreamed of wasn’t an easy task, so while doing everything she could- auditions, voice lessons, dance lessons, networking- to achieve her dream, she was also waitressing and fixing up the small studio apartment she lived in with two other people

While fixing up the apartment she recorded herself and posted it to YouTube, creating a channel that was mainly for herself and her family, but ended up garnering quite a following over the years

As much as she loved performing, she found her heart was being pulled in another direction- design

So amidst her lessons and auditions and job, Sahra found herself going to school for Interior Design while learning as much as she could about DIY from other YouTube videos and phone calls with her dad

Things were going well for a girl far away from home in her early 20s, she had a good group of friends, her YouTube channel was thriving, she was finally making a name for herself (albeit a small one) in the world of Broadway, and she’d met a man who captured her heart faster than anyone had before

And it only got better from there- her relationship thrived as did her career, and the vlog she’d created for her apartment makeovers was more popular than ever. She was on track to get everything she’d ever wanted, everything she’d worked so hard for, and she was happy. So happy.

Sahra and her boyfriend moved in together, she got a solo in one of the biggest shows on Broadway and her design degree. New York was home now and she couldn’t imagine it being any better, but then her boyfriend dropped a bomb she hadn’t been expecting but she also wasn’t opposed to: he had an opportunity for both of them in LA and would she be willing to move?

Her gut reaction had been an instant no. How could she leave everything she’d been working so hard for behind? However, as much as she loved performing, she found that design had been where her heart was leading her for the past couple of years and the move to Los Angeles would allow her not only to follow that dream, but would put her back with her best friend

So she made a choice that should have been more difficult than it was- she agreed to move with her boyfriend to LA, closing the Broadway chapter in her life to open a new, home renovations one with the love of her life while getting to spend time in the same city as her favorite person for the first time since they both left their hometown after high school

But as Newton said all those years ago, what goes up must come down, and Sahra had gotten so high the subsequent fall nearly ended her

In the five years she spent in LA, Sahra built a life and a home for herself she thought would be forever. The show she’d curated with her now fiance (and the help of his family) had opened doors to new endeavors she’d never even dreamed of- design and renovations had become her life, one she loved and enjoyed, but it all came crashing down around her when her relationship was thrown into peril

The wedding planning during a break in filming for their show had been going better than Sahra could have ever dreamed, however, she hadn’t noticed just how disconnected to it all her fiance had been, and when it came time for him to present her with their prenup everything changed

It was a standard contract, one Sahra hadn’t been surprised or offended by- his family had a lot of money (they were the majority owners of HGTV after all), but there’d been a clause added that had her stopping in her tracks and digging her heels in

Her relationship with religion hadn’t ever been strong by any means, but she was raised in a Muslim household and she participated in Islam in a way that suited her. It wasn’t nearly as strict as her parents would have liked it to be, but at least she believed

It’d never been an issue in her relationship, their differing religions, as neither of them was especially devout, but while reading over the prenup she found a clause requiring her to convert to his religion so they could have a traditional ceremony

She thought it’d been a mistake, and when she’d approached her fiance about it he confirmed her naive suspicions and told her not to worry about it- that it’d be taken care of and everything would be fine. But it wasn’t.

As time went on she found her fiance pressuring her to just do as his parents asked, she didn’t actually have to believe in the religion, but they were paying for the wedding, they were the reason she had everything in her life that she loved, so couldn’t she just do this one little thing for them?

His gentle prodding turned into forceful declarations, fights had behind closed (and open) doors. And for a while, Sahra had been teetering on the line of simply doing what they’d asked of her so she could continue to live in the fairytale life she’d come to know- besides, what would stop her from converting back to Islam once the ceremony was done? But she couldn't do it. And when she told her fiance, a man she’d been convinced would love and support her no matter what, he’d done the unthinkable by ending their engagement, their relationship, the show, and the life they’d built together 

In the blink of an eye Sahra’s entire world collapsed around her. The rose colored glasses she’d been wearing for so long had seemingly been ripped away and she was faced with a blinding reality she wasn’t quite ready for- even at 31

She found herself moving back to Briar Ridge once it was all said and done, her heart and confidence shattered

Sahra’s now been back in town, living with her best friend, for six months. She’s still not fully ready to face the way her life has changed so drastically, but she’s still got her dreams and her online following. So while she’s navigating all of the changes in her life, she’s doing small projects around Lia’s beach house and trying to find joy again. It’s a slow process, but one she’s certain she’ll succeed in as long as she follows her heart and has her best friend by her side

She’d made some great progress, even finding herself a job as a part time bartender at The Rusty Spur and Golden Hour, when her media blackout involving her ex was broken and she found out some Earth shattering information- not only was he married now, but he also had a two month old daughter with his new wife. The math wasn’t mathing and she realized he’d had an affair, canceling her own self imposed media blackout and unblocking his name from her phone

It was then she found out the way he’d talked about her and their relationship to the media, stating he always knew they weren’t compatible, she wasn’t right for him, they didn’t have the same values. But his new wife did. And Sahra was right back to being as broken as she’d been when their relationship had first ended

Now, Sahra is back to wallowing in self pity and heading down a bit of a self destructive, chaotic path

WANTED CONNECTIONS

The usual suspects – childhood friends, coworkers, people she met/knows from New York and her time in LA, first kiss, first time, exes from high school and before she met her former fiance, hook ups, theater friends, DIY friends, people she knows through her siblings, etc.

The Crying Hookup – Sahra is in a bit of a fragile state emotionally (when is she not tho lbr), and while she’s convinced all she needs to do to get over her ex is to get under a few new people… she finds herself in a bit of an awkward situation when she’s mid hookup and begins to cry before grabbing her clothes and getting the hell out of there (I just think this would be really funny, especially if there’s a second hookup that this happens with and she’s like ‘not again’)

Angry Neighbor(s) – Not only is Sahra not afraid of using power tools but lately her sleep schedule has been a bit… wonky, so she’s found herself doing little projects at odd hours. Lia probably sleeps with ear plugs in at this point but her neighbors? Not so much. She also has a bad habit of singing, no, belting, show tunes at the top of her lungs while working. With a little bit of Taylor Swift mixed in bc heartbreak. Obviously this person/these people aren’t too pleased with the noisy interruptions to their sleep/relaxation time

HGTV/DIY Addicts – People who watched her show/fans! It’s a really sore subject right now but she wouldn’t ever take it out on someone who recognizes her from her show. It did run for several seasons and was pretty popular! She also has her TikTok channel, YouTube channel, and personal & professional Instagram accounts. Would love if someone knows who she is and maybe asks her to help them with a project they want to try!

The Contractor - IDK if you've ever seen the show Flip or Flop with Tarek and Christina El Moussa (I know they're divorced and she has a different last name but I cannot be bothered to find it now) but they buy houses and flip them. They're a design team and they have a contractor who helps them out on all their jobs. This would be the contractor from the show Sahra worked on with her ex. I think it would be a fun connection to explore! Maybe her ex implied they were having an affair to make himself look better? Maybe he paid off the contractor to stay quiet when he was caught? Maybe the contractor left bc they didn't like how Sahra was ousted/treated and they're close friends? I just think it would be a fun dynamic to create/explore and to have a part of the life Sahra's currently mourning here in Briar Ridge! (Will probably be putting a wc out for this character but figured I'd put it here so I don't forget about it lol)

[bipolarguyaz]

I’ve actually been thinking a lot about this lately:

I only have one full-blooded sibling, my older brother, but I have 3 younger half-siblings.

I grew up with my older full brother who is two years older and my younger half brother who was born when I was about six years old. His dad was my stepfather and he is my mom’s third and final child. His dad (my stepdad) died when I was 20 years old and my little brother was about 14.

My older full brother lives in a different state now and I haven’t seen him in 5 years although we talk on messenger quite often. We fought and argued a lot growing up, but we’re semi close now and we always have a great time when we get together…although that isn’t very often anymore. He’s hoping to come visit in December, and I’m excited because we haven’t spent any time together since 2018.

The younger half brother I grew up with lives in the same city, and I get to see him about three or four times a year. We’re both married and have families now, so we don’t spend as much time together as we would like but it’s always nice when I get to hang with him at birthday parties for our kids and that sort of thing. Overall, I would rate my relationship with my older brother and my immediate younger brother as being very good: They’re both very smart hard-working guys and they both have a wicked sense of humor.

My birth parents divorced when I was about three, my dad basically dropped off the face of the Earth until I was almost seven and then came back in my life albeit on a very limited basis. My dad remarried in about 1988 and in 1990 my youngest half brother was born. I was 11, my brother was born three months premature and nearly died several times…most of us were pretty sure he wouldn’t make it, but he defied the odds and is alive today and just turned 33 years old.

Then my half sister, my youngest sibling, was born in 1993. Their mother, my stepmom, an amazing woman who loved me like I was her own child unfortunately died of cancer in 2004 when my brother was 14 and my sister was 11.

This is where things get dicey, and why my relationship with the two of them is weird to say the least:

Immediately after their mother’s death, my dad tried to take care of his two youngest but he was dealing with severe bipolar disorder and substance-abuse issues so he couldn’t even take care of himself. He still can’t, but that’s an entirely different story.

Long story short, my little brother and little sister went to go live with a guardian who was their mom’s best friend. This lady is a real piece of work, I could write an entire article about her as well, but suffice it to say my sister got herself kicked out when she was 13 and my brother continued to live with this lady until he was 18.

Once again, my dad tried to swoop in and take care of my sister, but that went South immediately and my wife and I recognized that whole situation was not going to be healthy for her. We ended up renting a place from my in-laws and becoming her guardian right around the time she turned 14. I should note that my sister and I had had a very close relationship up to that point, and that continued for several months after she came to live with us…but she ended up bringing baggage that I did not know how to address, especially since I myself was only 28 at the time, and my own child had it not yet been born.

I would love to say that my wife and I built this caring, nurturing environment and we were able to raise my sister effectively, but that would be a lie. I did not know how to handle that child, I did not know how to parent my youngest sibling, we got her counseling after I found out that she was on drugs but the counselor was completely useless. We ended up both resenting each other, and she moved out right when she turned 18 just a few months before graduating from high school.

As for my younger half-brother who was born premature, he continued to have significant developmental delays despite being an incredibly intelligent kid. He has ADHD and autism along with some motor impairments, but he was able to sporadically keep a job now and then. The guardian he was living with (the same one who took my sister out) wanted to enroll him in a skills program after he graduated High School and put him in a group home so that he would have someone to continue to look out for him, but my dad once again in the midst of one of his bipolar mania episodes decided he was going to get off disability and use his aircraft engineering knowledge to apply to Lockheed Martin in Palmdale California working in the F-22 program and take my brother out there with him to live

Well, they get out there, everything is going fine until Lockheed finds out about a DUI that my dad failed to report. He doesn’t get the job, they end up stranded in a trailer in the middle of nowhere, somehow or another they ended up in Utah staying in the backyard of an old girlfriend of my dad’s and my poor brother nearly froze/starved to death of there while my dad wallowed in his deep bipolar depression. This went on for a year or so, we had no contact from them at all. By the time we heard from them again, they had made it down to Phoenix, and were using their disability income to rent a place.

They made it down here to Phoenix right before my sister graduated from high school in 2011. The three of them had various living arrangements in which sometimes my sister would be shacking up with random people, and then the three of them would live together for a brief periods of time. Mostly, it was my dad and my brother living in terrible roach-infested apartments they could barely afford while my sister would sponge money off of them. My brother would get a job delivering Grubhub and my dad would drive for Lyft. The problem is, my dad is a scary and terrible driver, so he frightened too many passengers to be able to continue doing that and destroyed the brand new car he got.

oh, and my dad is a disabled veteran, so at one point they got a VA loan and bought a brand new house in Sun City West. I’m sad to say I was absolutely enraged because at that point I was finishing grad school and working two jobs to support my disabled wife and young daughter and I had never owned a house in my life, meanwhile their lazy incompetent asses get to move into a brand new one?

Anyway, what happened there was my dad didn’t make money for several months due to his bipolar depression and mangled car, my brother can’t pay for anything, and they get kicked out of the new house. No, I didn’t feel good about that, I felt horrible

As toxic as all of this sounds, I assure you it’s much worse than what I’m putting here. I’m leaving so much out.

My sister moved up to Seattle to get away from them, and they ended up following her a couple years later. They lived together briefly up there, but then my dad had a stroke. She tried to step in and help but the toxicity of their dynamic was too much for her and she moved out and took her income and resources with her. As for my dad and my brother, they lost their apartment.

My sister had a motorhome parked on the property of some dude she was sleeping with, my brother lived there with her for several months and they all ran out of money while his health suffered tremendously. My dad ended up in a family group home paid for by Medicaid, and my sister ended up dumping my brother off at a homeless shelter where he has been for 10 months now.

All three of them have severe mental health challenges which make relationship maintenance very difficult, so my feelings about my brother and my sister are tainted by that. My wife and I have done a tremendous amount of work with my brothers social worker to reestablish his public aid benefits, and try to get him out of there, but the problem is he’s comfortable and doesn’t want to leave . So there we are. My sister drops in on Facebook every now and then, but most of the time I have no idea where the hell she is.

people with siblings: how do you feel about them?

[eddie-sweetheart]

🏕 Camp Lovers Lake - Chapter Three 🏕

An Eddie Munson x Female Reader summer camp story. Set just before the beginning of season 3 of Stranger Things, with a few diversions from the original plot of the series.

🏕 Chapters List

Pairing and tropes • Eddie Munson x Female Reader - fluff, forced proximity, slightly slow burn, summer camp clichés ♥︎

Summary • June, 1985. Close to the city of Hawkins, Indiana, the placid waters of Lovers Lake stand as the perfect background for the homonymous summer camp, where you’re about to be a counselor for the last time before senior year and then, hopefully, college. Your brother Dustin Henderson won’t be with you this year, as he’s chosen to attend Camp Know Where until July - but with your best friend Robin Buckley at your side and the unexpected addition of Steve Harrington to your duo, the upcoming months seem to promise endless fun and exciting adventures nonetheless. However, as you get closer to Eddie Munson, resident metalhead and drug dealer who’s been forced by his uncle to work at Camp Lovers Lake after another missed graduation, your plans for the summer might have to go in a completely different direction.

Warnings • Cursing, possible mentions and/or depictions of violence, sexually suggestive language. Having no idea where this is going myself, you’ll need to be 18+ to read this fic just in case!

Chapter notes • I wish I was the one going on a hike with Eddie 🥲 I really hope you like this chapter and that this fic is giving the right vibes! Any idea, suggestion or feedback is appreciated as always :)

Chapter word count: 4.2k

🌹 Masterlist 🌹

“Good morning sunshine”

Your peaceful sleep is suddenly interrupted by something soft being thrown at your face, startling you into a confused daze. As you blink your eyes open, you realize it’s Robin’s pillow, which is now laying at your side while she’s staring at you, already fully dressed and with an equally amused and interrogative smile. 

“Was that really necessary?” You mutter, attempting to turn around but failing miserably as another pillow hits the back of your head.

“Yes it was? Since you’re late and there are pancakes for breakfast today” Robin enthusiastically replies, moving away from the top bed to let you climb down with a groan. 

“What took you so long last night by the way?” She asks while you start getting undressed, PJ shorts pooling down at your feet. “You got me stuck with Harrington for almost an hour”. 

“I had a little incident” you reply, showing her your bandaged left middle finger as you slip into your camp t-shirt. “Also, Eddie Munson came by and I had to show him where we keep the booze”. 

“Uhm, rude?” Robin exclaims at your gesture, fake shock in her voice turning genuine as soon as she hears Eddie’s name. “Wait, Munson? Aren’t we supposed to, like, avoid him? Do you remember what Steve said? Wait- did he have something to do with the incident? Did he hurt you?” She interrogates you, grabbing your hand to examine the damage. 

You shrug with a smile at her concern. “Come on Robin, we just talked” you tell her, gently removing your hand from hers, “He’s not that bad either, you know. A bit weird, maybe, but he actually seems nice”. 

“Mmmh” Robin hums, leaning on the wooden doorframe of the cabin, the early morning sun-rays drawing golden highlights on her dark blonde hair. “If you say so.”

“On another note, instead” you digress, pointing your unharmed finger at her, “did you tell Steve?”

Robin sighs, blushing a little. “Yes” she finally admits, “he was a little surprised at first, but he was actually very nice about it. And now he knows that we swing the same way - even if I suspect I will never beat him to Tammy Thompson” she says, rolling her eyes in defeat.

“Never say never, hotshot” You state, latching your arm under hers as you finally make your way out of the cabin and join the rest of the campers on their way to breakfast. 

And, just like always, breakfast goes by way too fast. There’s barely time for your coffee to kick in and take you out of the lingering morning numbness before you have to pack your backpack and get the Group B kids ready for the early afternoon hike. 

While you’re bringing your now empty tray back to the serving station in the dining room, Steve and Robin bickering behind you about the correct way to prepare pancake batter, you catch a glimpse of Eddie, who’s still sitting at the table with Gareth and another guy. As his gaze casually lifts up to meet yours, you tentatively offer a greeting smile, obtaining an acknowledging nod in exchange. 

You and Robin briefly go back to your cabin to grab your stuff, the heat of the summer day already making you sweat. Just as you’ve closed the zip of the backpack and you’re finally ready to go, wondering how you’re going to manage a dozen prepubescent kids in the middle of the woods, Robin interrupts your train of thought with a hesitant cough. 

“What?” You ask, your heart beating slightly faster than usual as soon as you notice her there’s something important I need to tell you expression. 

“You’re with Group B today, right?” She begins, and you realize she’s going the long way round. 

“Cut to the chase, Robin” you sigh, leaning back on the desk in front of the window, the chattering of the campers barely audible through the thick, slightly dirty glass. 

Robin looks at you sideways. “Have you checked who’s been assigned to your group?”

You can’t help but let out a small laugh, relief unexpectedly filling your chest even if you don’t really know what you were expecting. “Look, Robin” you begin, “If you’re still worried about Munson, I can assure you that he’s-“

“I don’t mean him” Robin interrupts you, “I mean Patrick. He’s coming with you, together with Jenna”. 

Your chest tightens a little. You haven’t properly checked the assignment list for the day - you just quickly looked for your name last night, not really worrying about the eventual company. And you now realize that maybe you should have. 

You take a deep breath, nonetheless. You’re not going to let Patrick and his latest flirt ruin your day. “I appreciate the heads up and your concern” you tell Robin, squeezing her hand, “But I’m okay. I’m over it, for good - I promise. Plus, I’ll be in good company” you conclude with a wink, causing Robin to snort and smile at the same time. 

— 🏕 —

“So” Eddie begins, finally breaking the slightly awkward silence that has accompanied you for the first ten minutes of the hike, “How’s your finger, Henderson?”

It didn’t take a long time for the sparse grove around the camp to turn into the thick forest that is surrounding you as you walk side by side. After a good twenty minutes of making sure that every kid in your group had their sandwich and snack packed and their boots tightly laced up, you finally started on the trail that encircled the lake, quickly leaving behind the loud chattering of camp to be surrounded by the soft rustling of leaves, the chirping sounds of wild birds and the distant trickling of one of the many streams flowing into the lake. 

In an unspoken agreement, the group was led in the front by Patrick and Jenna, with whom you accurately made sure not to speak more than necessary; you and Eddie, instead, took your place at the back of the chaotic line of kids, keeping an eye on them as they make their way through the wild vegetation. 

At first, you didn’t really know what to say to him - especially because you were so focused on ignoring the distant sound of Jenna’s annoying and forced laughs and Patrick’s ridiculous efforts to impress her. But, thankfully, Eddie has unknowingly found a way to distract you, even if he thinks he’s just looking for something to talk about. 

“Doesn’t hurt much” you reply, your eyes stuck on the ground to watch your steps and avoid tripping on branches or roots. “The bleeding stopped quite quickly, so I didn’t bother telling the nurse this morning”. 

“That’s good to hear” Eddie says with a nod and silence falls again between the two of you. At first it’s kind of weird, not talking. But then, the awkwardness turns into a sort of quiet and comfortable mutual understanding that lets you both enjoy the calming sounds of nature. 

Eddie doesn’t strike you as the kind of person that enjoys being outside in the wilderness, but as you take a few quick glances at him you realize how he seems at ease with his surroundings, casually stroking the occasional leaf on a branch or lightly patting trees as you pass by them. 

“You go on hikes often?” You ask, trying to make some small talk. 

“Mmmh, nope” he replies, looking straight ahead at the trail before you, “but I don’t mind a change of scenery. It’s not that bad, being here in the woods - but I will never admit it, so you didn’t hear this from me, yeah?” He’s quick to add, finally turning towards you with an upside-down smile, dimples on full display on his cheeks. 

“Promise I won’t rat you out” You laugh in response, returning his gaze. 

He thanks you with a small bow, before going back to looking at the kids in front of you. 

“I used to be outside a lot, actually, when I was their age” he adds with a nod in their direction, “very useful to work on my first D&D campaigns.  And to avoid my parents’ fights”. He kind of blurts out this last piece of information and as his words linger in the warm summer air you suspect that maybe he regrets saying them. 

“That sounds like a great way to pass the time” you observe, tiptoeing around his confession. 

“Yeah, well, that was years ago anyways” Eddie states, one hand gesturing vaguely in the air as he suddenly turns more serious. 

“I used to run away from… domestic altercations as well, you know?” You decide to tell him, the blurred, distant memory of you and Dustin’s father briefly appearing in your mind, “but I never made it farther than our backyard”. 

Eddie scoffs, but as you glance sideways you notice that his smile is back. 

“Oh, I see where you got that from then” he tells you jokingly, but you don’t get it straight away. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, lifting your leg up as you try to climb over a fallen trunk that’s lying across the path. Eddie, who’s already past it, stops to wait for you, casually leaning against a tree on the side of the trail. 

“You basically ran away last night” he states, a hint of amusement mixed with curiosity in his voice. 

You stop halfway across your climbing, your legs on either side of the trail as you basically straddle the tree trunk. 

“Did I?” You ask in genuine surprise. 

Eddie shrugs. “Maybe I’m wrong. Or, maybe you were scared of being alone with the mean and dark metalhead slash drug dealer slash probable satanist” he adds, now clearly teasing you. 

However, it’s not hard for you to spot the hint of self-deprecation in his words. 

“That's quite a lot of titles for just one person” you carefully observe, finally catching up with him as you both start walking again. 

“Well, what can I say - go big or go home” Eddie states, the trademark lilt in his voice making its comeback as you approach a turn in the path. 

Since the brief pause you took to climb over the trunk made you lose sight of the kids for a moment, you expect to see them as soon as you turn around the corner - and you do see them, but they’re a bit farther away than you thought. But, closer to you on the trail, there’s a little boy sitting on the ground. As you and Eddie approach him, you both notice that he’s sniffling. 

“Hey, Tim” you address him by his name as you get down on one knee to be on his level, Eddie standing behind you with a curious look on his face. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Tim tears up and shakes his head without uttering a single word. He’s a regular at camp and you know he’s had a few problems in the past with bullies - his parents always made sure to warn the director and ask him to keep an eye on him, even if it was supposed to be just a school-related issue. And, of course, the director made sure to warn all counselors as well, the camp policy contemplating zero tolerance for such behaviors. That's why your first thought is that, maybe, something of that kind has just happened.

“Tim” you address him again, softly placing one of your hands on his knee. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything. I promise you’re not in trouble, but I need to know why you’re upset so we can try to make it better”. 

Tim finally looks up at you and nods slightly. 

“That’s great. Thank you for trusting me” you continue, squeezing his knee as reassuringly as you can. “Now, did someone hurt you, or say something bad?”

Tim lets out a little sob, and nods again. “Peter Carver said…” he begins, but tears block the words in his throat. You give him some time to collect himself, and as he starts to speak again the rustling of the leaves on the ground behind you tells you Eddie is taking a step closer. 

“Hey, you two” Patrick’s voice suddenly booms through the woods, “what’s taking you so long?”

You roll your eyes and Eddie turns towards him almost menacingly. 

“Shut the hell up, will you?” He exclaims, causing Patrick’s gaze to darken as he starts walking towards you, all the kids eyes now turned to the three of you. 

You stand up quickly and place yourself between Eddie and Patrick - the last thing that’s needed right now is a stupid scene, so you keep your cool as, for the first time in months, you address Patrick. 

“Look, everything is fine” you begin, almost startling him. “We’re having a little chat with Tim, here. Why don’t you guys go ahead in the meantime? We’ll catch up with you in a minute”. 

Patrick’s gaze goes back and forth between you, Eddie and Tim, but he doesn’t bother to reply - he simply nods and walks away, soon followed by an astonished Jenna and the rest of Group B. 

Now that everything is quiet again, you take a deep breath and kneel back down to Tim. Eddie stands there, listening attentively. 

“Sorry about that” you tell Tim with a smile. “What were you saying about Peter?”

The kid visibly gulps. “Peter said that if I talk to him again he’s going to lock me out of the cabin tonight, and Victor Creel will get me and kill me in the woods” he finally blurts out, tears streaming down his cheeks as he starts sobbing again. 

You sigh. That was predictable, Peter being Jason Carver’s devilish little brother. You’re surely going to report this later to the camp director, but first you need to try and make Tim feel better so he can finish the hike and go back to camp - even if you have no idea who this Victor Creel might be. 

“I see” you begin, looking at Tim straight in the eyes, “but I promise you there is nothing to be scared about. Peter will not lock you out and there is surely no boogeyman in the woods that will come for you. Just a few nice squirrels that want to climb trees and eat lots of nuts” you say, ruffling Tim’s hair and causing him to smile a little. “What about we finish this hike and once we’re back to camp we sneak into the kitchen and get you an extra piece of chocolate? Then I will make sure that Peter won’t bother you anymore. How does that sound?” 

Tim seems almost convinced at first, but he still doesn’t move an inch from his seat, his eyes now back on the ground. 

You slightly turn around to throw an eloquent glare at Eddie, silently asking him for some support. Eddie seems a little taken aback, but as he casually coughs he kneels down next to you. 

“Look, kid” he finally says, his voice getting Tim’s attention. “Bullies are mean and scary. And they suck, I know. You could say they are like… trolls”

Tim looks at him in surprise as Eddie starts gesturing vaguely with his hands, while you look in amusement at his theatricals. 

“Ugly, smelly trolls that live in dirty caves and come at you with a club in their chubby hands, screaming stupid words with growls and snarls” Eddie continues, interpreting each and every word with a different tone, making Tim giggle as he dries his tears. “But, when a troll comes your way, there is something you can do - do you know what Hobbits are?” He interrupts himself for a second until Tim shakes his head hesitantly. 

Eddie drops his arms in defeat. “That’s not good, man. Lord of the Rings? Nothing?” He asks Tim, but as you elbow him in the side, he gets the cue and resumes his speech. “Well, Tim, Hobbits are little creatures with quite big feet - very similar to us, just smaller” he continues, “but they are brave, and smart. They know how to sneak around trolls, how to trick them with words or even how to fight them sometimes, even if they are scared. So, if a bully comes for you like a troll, be like a Hobbit - be smarter, wiser, and fight the hell -“

“Aaaand that’s all you need to do, Tim” you interrupt  Eddie, before his lesson goes beyond what is appropriate to teach a kid, “always stand your ground and never respond to violence with violence” you underline, throwing an expressive side glance to a now innocently smiling Eddie. “Now, what about we get up and catch up with the others? I bet your friends are missing you” you finally ask the kid as you stand up again. 

Tim seems definitely better, even if his eyes are still a little red from crying. He gets up and after flashing a quick grin at Eddie, he starts heading back to the group, which is now farther along the trail. 

“Seems like it worked” you observe, as both you and Eddie resume walking as well. “He’s going to be the next Frodo Baggins now”.

Eddie’s face lightens up with the same excitement that you noticed last night at the mention of D&D. 

“I was thinking more of Bilbo, but I wasn’t expecting you to know the reference” he says, the tilted smile back on his lips. 

“You really must think I live under a stone or something” you joke, turning your head to look at him. “you know that The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings are quite well known, yeah?”

Eddie blushes slightly, and he drops his head a little to cover the redness of his cheeks with his wavy hair. 

“Yeah, sure” he says, “it’s just… you don’t hear a lot of people talking about it at school or in general - and when they do, they usually make fun of it. As if it wasn’t better than throwing balls into laundry baskets or-” 

You let out a heartfelt laugh, interrupting him mid-sentence. “God, I really need to introduce you to my brother and his friends”. 

— 🏕 —

The rest of the hike goes by pretty smoothly, without further incidents. You all keep walking until you reach a clearing among the trees, where you decide to stop to eat your sandwiches and let the kids get some rest before heading back towards camp. 

As you sit in the tall, luscious grass, you can’t help but enjoy your surroundings: the warm breeze rustling the leaves above you, the refreshing feeling of the trees’ shade protecting you from the early afternoon sun, the nearby creek offering its freezing waters as the perfect pick-me-up for your heated skin. 

If it weren’t for the distant presence of Patrick and Jenna, who are occasionally throwing glances in your direction and muttering God knows what, it would truly be a perfect moment. But, thankfully, Eddie’s company is enough to keep you distracted and entertained. 

You keep making small talk, exchanging opinions on books, on which you seem to have similar taste, and music - on which your preferences couldn’t be more diverse. You don’t have a strictly favorite genre, as your playlists can easily range from Abba to The Clash - while, predictably, he mostly listens to heavy metal, which you’ve never really dipped your feet into. 

You also find out, much to your surprise, that he has a band. 

“Corroded Coffin” he proudly states as the takes the last bite of his sandwich, his back leaning on a tree at the edge of the clearing, where you’re sitting. 

“That’s actually a cool name. Very fitting” you observe, laying down in the grass in the sunlight.  “So it’s you and…?”

“Well, there’s four of us” he replies, brushing a few crumbles off of his camp t-shirt, “Gareth’s in it, and Jeff too - I don’t know if you know him, but he’s at this damned camp as well”. 

You nod uncertainly, supposing he’s the one Steve went on a hike and made “friends” with yesterday. 

“We play at the Hideout sometimes” Eddie continues, his eyes closed as he enjoys the last few moments of rest. “Even if we have a crowd of about… five drunks”. 

You giggle, the image of the late teens' band entertaining a small group of older bikers appearing in your mind. “I bet they’re very passionate fans” you state, and you kind of wonder how would it actually be to witness one of their concerts. Fun is what your mind comes up with. 

“You, uhm.. you could come see us” Eddie tentatively proposes, opening one eye to look at you and catch your reaction. “It would be a nice change in the audience, y’know. Having someone who’s not older than 50”. 

You didn’t expect the invite and you actually don’t know whether to take it seriously, but the idea is surprisingly appealing to you - so you opt for a “yeah, that’d be cool” that causes Eddie to flash you one of his dimply smiles. 

Around four o’clock, everyone gets up and you get ready to head back to camp. The sun shines bright above the trees, casting glittering specks of light on the ground as its rays filter through the branches and leaves. 

You and Eddie are talking a little less now - tiredness making you both more silent and absorbed in your thoughts. But you notice how, just like this morning, the silence is never uneasy or awkward: you’re unexpectedly okay with just enjoying each other’s company. 

Your enthusiasm kicks back in once you notice that the camp’s cabins are now visible again through the trees in the distance. You’re already enjoying the feeling of a refreshing shower and the taste of the pizza that’s been promised for dinner by Mrs. Janet - when, suddenly, you lose your balance and find yourself face-first into the ground. 

“Woah, Henderson, are you okay?” Eddie exclaims, rushing to your side to help you up. He offers you his hand and you absentmindedly take it - and just as your hand brushes with his and his heavy rings dig into your skin, a fluttering feeling rises up in your stomach - faint, but just strong enough for you to notice. It’s probably because you’re not used to people (guys) touching you anymore, you suppose.

“I’m fine, I think” you reply, still in surprise at your fall. As you struggle to your feet, you notice that you’ve tripped on a large root coming up from the ground; your eyes follow it back into the woods and you catch a glimpse of a… hole? A cave?

“What do you think that is?” You ask Eddie, pointing towards the hole in the ground that is half hidden by the vegetation.

Eddie squints his eyes to try and see better, but only ends up shaking his head, the chocolate brown of his hair catching golden stripes of late afternoon sunlight. “Wouldn’t know” he replies, his body already turning to catch up with everyone else on their way to camp, but he stops as soon as he notices you disappearing among the trees.

“Henderson! Wait” He exclaims, his voice rising by an octave as he sprints after you, his forehead barely avoiding a few lower branches as he curses. 

In the meantime, you’ve reached the cavity, which you’ve suddenly decided to investigate because of two reasons. One, if there’s a cave or a deep hole, it could be dangerous for the kids, who sometimes may wander beyond the camp’s boundaries to play; two, because you’ve noticed a dark glimmer on the ground next to it and your curious nature won’t let you sleep tonight if you don’t put a name to it first. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Eddie says, panting, as you kneel on the ground next to the hole - which is not going straight downwards, but it's more like the edge of a man-sized cave on the side of a small hill.

“I’m looking” you tell Eddie. And you do look, which allows you to notice that the dark thing that was glimmering is, actually, a… black vine?

“I really wouldn’t do that” Eddie warns you as you stretch your hand towards the dark, shiny root. As soon as you touch it, a loud “Ew” escapes your mouth as a transparent, slimy substance that resembles some kind of resin sticks to your hand.

“Told ya” Eddie states, plain disgust appearing on his face as he takes a step back from you, now trying to remove the substance by wiping your hand on the grass.

“I think there’s more” you observe, getting closer to the entrance as you spot more black vines twisting inside. “What kind of plant is this? I’ve never seen anything like it before”.

As Eddie realizes that you’re getting closer to the cave, he rushes to your side and tugs at your shirt, yanking you back and away from it.

“Can you stop touching it?” He exclaims, catching you by surprise. “I have no idea what that shit is, but it surely doesn’t look good - it might be toxic, for christ’s sake!”

You let a small laugh escape you at his sudden alarm, lifting your hands up in surrender. “Okay, Munson, calm down” you tell him, getting up on your feet again. “I won’t touch it anymore”.

“Very good” Eddie finally states, one hand running through his hair, “Can we go back now? I really need a shower and you can rush to Mr. Smithson and tell him about your discovery here, ‘kay?”

“Okay, fine” you agree with a small smile as you both start walking back to the path in silence. This time, however, the silence is a bit less relaxed.

You furtively glance up at Eddie, who seems lost in his thoughts, and you finally decide to speak.

“It don’t think it was dangerous, you know?” You softly observe, somehow feeling a little guilty about… scaring him? Making him worry? Although you still can’t quite understand his reaction to the vines.

“It might not, or it might have been” Eddie replies, his hands deep in the pockets of his signature black jeans, “I learned the hard way that in real life it’s better not to take too many risks. Outside of D&D” he adds with a sigh, “I am no hero”.

You nod in understanding. “It’s actually very reasonable” you observe, taking a moment before asking the next question - which involves something you’re now kind of dying to know. “So, what is your character like? Is he a… how’s it called, a paladin?” You finally ask him.

Eddie smiles, turning towards you with a smug expression in his eyes. “I’m actually the Dungeon Master” he says. The awkward silence and his thoughtful look are now completely gone.

“Wow” you exclaim, slowing your pace as you walk down the last, slightly downhill section of the path, which is now running on the right side of the Lovers Lake. “That sounds cool, actually”.

“It is” Eddie confirms with a shrug, the smile never leaving his lips. Then he turns to you and this time he’s the one carrying a burning question. “If you played one adventure, what character would you like to be?”.

You blush a little, because you’ve actually thought about it once or twice, especially after hearing Dustin’s reports of his party’s campaigns - which led you to do some casual research on the characters’ races and classes. And you blush a little also because you perfectly understand that, for Eddie, this question might be quite relevant in order to have a more definite opinion of you - and, you have to admit to yourself, you actually want to make a good impression.

“I’m no expert” you begin, your gaze lingering on the glittering waters of Lovers Lake, the first cabins appearing on your right, “but I think I’d like to be a half-elf bard. Get the best of both worlds, you know - humans and elves, magic and music. And I’d love to be a princess of some kind, maybe from some fallen royal family or escaping an arranged marriage… Please don’t make fun of me” you exclaim after your explanation, the redness on your cheeks getting more intense by the second as you notice the upside-down smile on Eddie’s lips.

“That might actually be a nice idea for a cool back story” he friendly replies, instead, making you feel a bit relieved. “And I’ll let you in on a little secret, Henderson” he’s quick to add, “When I used to play as a character, I was a bard, too”.

Your smile is now matching his, and you suddenly realize that you’ve stopped walking as you’ve now reached his cabin. You look around to see if Steve's nearby so you can say hi, but he's nowhere to be seen.

“So” Eddie observes, eyes scanning the room through the window, “Seems like Harrington is still out, probably flirting with chicks or something. Perfect timing for me and my shower, though" he adds.

Then, he turns to you with two fingers on his forehead, mocking a military salute. "Guess I’ll see you later, then, Henderson”.

“Yeah, sure” you reply, your thumbs up as you turn back to make your way towards your cabin as well.

But first, something comes up in your mind. “Oh, and Munson” you suddenly say, making Eddie stop halfway through the door. “I didn’t, by the way”.

“Didn’t what?” Eddie asks as he turns to you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Run away” you specify with a small smile. “Last night, I mean”. 

“Oh” Eddie replies, leaning against the wooden doorframe with a smirk as he recalls what he’s told you back in the woods. “That’s good to know, princess”.

When you enter your cabin and lock the door behind you, greeting Robin with a hug and listening to her as she recounts the day she’s spent trying to make some kids play volleyball without hurting themselves every other second, that princess is still echoing in your thoughts. 

— 🏕 —

Hope you enjoyed this chapter :) Feedback is always welcome!

Taglist •  @meaganjm @emwhite1 @juggernort @final-girllll @mermemerald @sarcasm-is-my-form-of-attack

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper Pt. 1

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past abusive relationship

Length: 1.4k

Notes: Okay, here we go! Giving our babe Frankie an ending he deserves, with a few bumps along the way for fun. Divider by @firefly-graphics 💛

It was almost comical, you thought, at how different the realtor's listing was, compared to the real thing. You’d seen it enough times in bad Hallmark romances: city girl buys a property, property is falling apart, city girl miraculously has the funds to fix it up with the help of the perfect farmer neighbour.

This was reality though and you had already poured your life’s savings, which amounted to very little after all the surprise debts had been paid off, into this farmhouse. 

The "Quaint New England farmhouse, filled with the patina of a bygone era" was a wreck. Nothing to be done about it now, though. The crumbling two-story, just a few minutes drive from the small Vermont town, hadn’t been occupied in over a decade and was now in a total state of disrepair. 

Swallowing back your tears, feeling the burn behind your eyes and the hot swelling in your throat, you told yourself there wasn’t time for a breakdown. You first needed to take stock of the depth of damage, decide which rooms were habitable enough for the time being, clean, unpack, and prepare yourself for this new life.

The next few hours went by in an exhausting blur. By late evening, there was a larger-than-expected pile of rotten, broken, or otherwise unusable furniture in the driveway; your meager few belongings taking their place. On top of renovations and remodeling it appeared you would also be refurbishing. 

Sitting on the porch in the one spot where you felt confident the decking wouldn’t crumble beneath your weight, you looked over your list.

 3 cracked windows (can wait?)

 no running water in kitchen (ASAP FIX!)

 missing shingles (bad??)

 deck boards and upstairs bedroom floorboards rotten

 carpeted bathroom

 questionable smell coming from attic space 

peeling wallpaper/paint EVERYWHERE

Folding the list and slipping it into your back pocket, you made your way back inside to discover one last glaring issue, previously unnoticed until now. The electricity had been shut off.

Well, fuck me sideways...

Deciding it was too late and you were too tired to deal with anything else today, you settled for the flashlight on your cellphone for light. Eating the apple you had nicked from the motel lobby the night before, you laid back in your makeshift bed on the floor and gazed around your new home.

Your home.

The first thing you had ever owned on your own.

First, the corner of your mouth quirked up then you quickly allowed it to flourish into a grin. It may be a piece of shit, but then again, you were always attracted to broken things with the innate need to fix them. Maybe this time you’d actually succeed. With that sobering thought, you settled down into your sleeping bag and were quickly asleep.

Frankie couldn’t believe his eyes when he drove past the old McClure farm. Some fool had actually bought it! Chuckling to himself, he could already imagine the gossip that would spread through town tomorrow, everyone clambering to find out who had moved in.

He had moved out this way five years ago and was still considered the “new guy” in town. Hopefully, the new arrival would take that mantle and everyone could start using Frankie’s actual name. 

He’ll probably just be dubbed “newer guy”...

Breathing out a huff of a laugh at the thought, Frankie began to turn down his driveway. The long, meandering drive leads to a barn surrounded by rows and rows of apple trees.

Two weeks after having moved in, you’re certain you’ve met, or at least seen, everyone from the town. Muffins, pie, casseroles, and even a case of cider had been brought over by a few of the braver townsfolk who drove out to say hello. While they may have been thinly veiled excuses to come snoop, you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain. The food was delicious, and best of all, it was free.

She had stayed for most of the afternoon, helping you clean and setting her kids about to do menial chores. The eldest, Cole, was sent scurrying up the road to tell his dad to bring Gerta. ... You dared not ask.

The very first visitor was a neighbour from just down the road. “Jacquie,” she had informed you over the noise of her four kids running around the yard, “How do you do?”

She said it with the barest hint of a southern drawl and you instantly fell in love with the soft cadence of her voice. With a beaming smile and a surreptitious wipe of your dusty hand on your pant leg, you shook her hand and introduced yourself. 

A short time later, the most devastatingly handsome, all-American-looking man you had ever seen climbed out of a tractor and started carrying a large object towards the house, Cole at his heels. 

“Jac, babe, where d’you want her?” He called, voice straining a bit due to the weight in his arms. Smiling at you, he nodded his head in greeting, "Hiya, neighbour! The name’s Mark"

“Oh, I don’t need it,” Jacquie replied airily “I just wanted an excuse to watch your muscles at work.”

With a roll of his eyes, that did nothing to hide the adoring sparkle in them, her husband carried his load to the side of the house and with a thump, set it down.

Turns out that Jacquie had a fondness for naming EVERYTHING and Gerta was their gas-powered generator. Claiming they had no use for it, Gerta was yours to keep for as long as you needed her. Which, you had to be honest, was looking like a good long while. Willing away the tears, not for the last time you were sure, brought on by her kindness, you settled for giving her a bear hug. It wasn’t until you heard a little voice calling “Mama?” that you realized you had been clinging to Jacquie for longer than could ever be considered acceptable.

Pulling away gingerly, you started to apologize, quickly stopped by her hand coming up in front of your face, making you involuntarily flinch. 

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry!” She started to exclaim before taking a deeper look at you. Then, without breaking eye contact, she tilted her head to the side and hollered at Mark to gather the kids and head home.

“I’ll be back past bedtime, so come give me y’all kisses now!” She lovingly bossed her brood.

Once they had cleared out, she turned to you, gently taking your hands in hers, and said, “Now, where do you want to start?”

“What kind of voodoo, witch doctor, hippy-dippy magic do you possess?!” you asked with a laugh while sniffing back the lingering tears. 

You had just laid out your entire life to a complete stranger. She had sat there, the whole time, holding your hands and your gaze while you had talked. Everything, you had told her absolutely everything. From the California upbringing in an affluential family to marrying your Highschool Sweetheart days after graduation. The sudden move, his surprise enlistment, his changing demeanor, the beginnings of abuse, all ending with his death while stationed overseas.

The pathetic Death Gratuity from the military barely covered the truck. You’d had to sell everything in order to settle all remaining debts. Your parents had offered to move you back home but the thought just made you ashamed. Moving back home? Being seen as a victim, being pitied by those who had seen your potential wasted? No way.

“Nothin’ supernatural, Darlin,” she assured you, after taking a deep breath to steady herself. It appeared that your emotions had started to affect her as well, you noticed with chagrin. “just the power of a good friend and a strong cider.”

Then came the aftermath. The debt collectors, the funeral without a body, his family claiming anything of value and you meekly allowing it, unaccustomed by that point to standing up for yourself. His grooming of you had started so early, and so slightly, that no one had seen it happen. He had controlled every aspect of your lives; it had made you feel like a fool during that first month as a widow. How could you not know about the multiple maxed-out credit cards? The ignored truck payments? The bank loans?! 

That comment made you look around and laugh, breaking the morose atmosphere in a flash. Scattered around the two of you were at least a half dozen bottles of the alcoholic beverage, which you had both sipped on during your sad monologue.

“Ahh, so it’s the maker of the drink I’ll have to kiss,” you proclaimed with a laugh. “I just saved a fortune in therapy bills!”

With a sly smile, Jacquie nodded, “That you will, send him my best when you do.”

Part Two

[meigh-day]

Meet Cute (Tendou x F!Reader)

Title: Meet Cute

Pairing: Tendou x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff!

Status: Complete

Word Count: 2.1k

———————————————————–

"I can do this..." You mumble to yourself, eyes focused on the single page menu in your hands. The words scrawled across the page wanted to seem familiar but only a couple managed to find their meaning while the rest just sat there taunting you. Maybe choosing to eat out was a bad idea. It had been only a couple of weeks since you'd uprooted your whole life and moved to beautiful Paris. Sure, your apartment wasn't the prettiest or the biggest and yea maybe not actually speaking a word of French prior to moving wasn't the brightest idea but you couldn't say you regretted the decision. Not yet anyway. A kind looking waitress approached your table, pen poised to take your order as she spoke to you. Her words came quick and left you staring up at her with an awkward smile while she stared at you, expectantly at first and then confused when you said nothing.

"Oh... uh... un moment..." Is all you finally manage to stammer out in your very limited French. She sighs a bit but nods and disappears back inside, leaving you to stare a bit longer at the menu as you worry your lip between your teeth. With a sigh you place the menu flat on the table. Resting your chin in your palm as you stare out at the bustling street before you. People wandered by, laughing with friends, arms full of shopping or flowers, hands intertwined as soft words passed between them. It seemed familiar in a way, watching others pass by on their way to or from some place. Yet, that familiarity only seemed to make you feel all the more alienated, amplifying that feeling of loneliness that was starting to creep up on you. You let out a soft hum of acknowledgement, your train of thought derailing immediately after as you realize someone was talking to you and you'd absentmindedly acknowledged them.

"Ah, sorry!" You sit up, turning your attention towards the source. An amused smile greets you as a pair of sharp red eyes catch your own. For a moment you sit stunned, mind stuck on one word: pretty. A short chuckle brings you back and you clear your throat as you try to think of something, anything to say to this stranger. "Uhm... Ah... P-pardonner monsieur." You offer up a stammered apology, though you aren't sure if you are sorry for not hearing what he said or for deciding to grace this café and the city with your inadequate French. Both maybe?

He laughs and shakes his head before pointing to the seat across from you as if to ask permission. You nod, offering him a somewhat nervous smile as you watch him take a seat. He was tall and thin with the prettiest red hair you had ever seen. He squints his eyes at you a moment before plucking the menu from the table and reading it over. With nothing else to occupy your attention, you watched him, curious why he had decided to approach a complete stranger.

"Hmm, do you like sweet stuff?" He questioned, eyes peering at you from atop the menu, not a hint of French accent in a single syllable.

You smile and nod, humming in affirmation before your eyes widen. "Wait... You speak... You're not..." A sigh of relief passes your lips as you relax in your chair, grateful to not have to stammer and stutter through the minimal French you'd managed to remember. The red headed man snickered at your obvious relief, hiding his smirk behind the menu.

"Geez, you poor thing. I admire your courage."

"Courage?"

"Yea. I didn't try my hand at dining out for like the first 2 or 3 months." He lowered the menu, his smirk now visible to you as he placed the menu back down on the table.

"Oh, heh, yea probably not the smartest move. It just smelled really good and my stomach overruled my brain."

He nodded, almost as if to say he understood the feeling before glancing back up at you. "I know we just met and all but do you trust me?" He taps the menu as he asks, indicating the reason behind his question.

"I might be inclined to trust you a little more if I knew your name..." You chuckle, watching his eyes widen in the realization that not a single word of introduction had passed between you. The smirk that had been on his lips is replaced by a sweet smile, his squinted red eyes soften as his whole express shifts from that slightly mischievous one he'd been wearing to a rather warm one.

"Ah, yea. It's Tendou, Tendou Satori."

Several minutes later, introductions now over and your order placed by the very gracious man before you, you two sat chatting back and forth. Both curious what had brought each of you to Paris, almost equally as unprepared. You found out Tendou was attending school to get his associates degree in bakery and pastry arts with the intent on training to become a chocolatier after. You stared at him, eyes wide with excitement as he spoke very animatedly about his latest project.

"But yea, not super exciting or anything." His own excitement dwindled a bit, nervousness settling in as he realized he'd been prattling on about himself for the last ten minutes.

"That sounds incredible!" You finally say. It had been so fun watching and hearing him talk about something he clearly loved.

"What about you?"

"Me? Ah..." The main reason you'd come to Paris was school. Well that's what you told people when asked and it was true. Though you couldn't deny to yourself the underlying reason for moving halfway across the word was to get away from your family. They had wanted you to stay local, go to college and work at your uncles company when you graduated. What a nicely planned future, all neat and packaged with a bow. It wasn't what you wanted though and you expressed that on many occasions. In the end you decided that if you were going to go to school for what you wanted you might as well do it as far away as possible while you were at it. Not wanting to unpack any of that though you gave him a very watered down version of why you'd come to Paris.

Tendou could tell as you spoke that something was missing from your story. Maybe it was the way your eyes shifted around as you spoke, or the stiff smile on your lips, but it was clear to him you maybe weren't telling the whole truth. Though considering he was more or less a perfect stranger, he couldn't fault you for that. Just as you were wrapping up your food arrived so any further talk regarding your coming to Paris halted in favor of eating whatever deliciousness Tendou had kindly ordered.

"Ah, that was so good." You breath out happily, leaning back in your chair in an effort to alleviate the fullness in your stomach. Tendou gave you a wide grin as he set his empty cup down. "I did a pretty good job guessing at what you'd like then?"

"Mhm!" You agree enthusiastically. "God knows what I would have ordered if not for you. So.. uh..." You sit up a bit, fixing your eyes on him as your smile softens. "Thanks. I really appreciate it."

He shakes his head, waving off your gratitude. "Nah don't worry about it." The waitress comes back around and leaves the bill, just the one, but before you can even think about how to fix this, Tendou has paid for the both of you.

"Oh no you don't have.. "

"Consider it a welcome to Paris gift." He stands and smiles down at you before slowly turning, a bit of reluctance in his step.

This was not how you had anticipated your lunch going. If anything you thought you might order something, hopefully delicious but at the very least edible, in your awful broken French and then go home. You couldn't fathom you'd end up meeting someone so kind and generous, who you maybe also thought happened to be the most beautiful person you'd ever seen. Yet you had, and now you were sat in your chair like a complete idiot watching his back grow smaller and smaller, he'd be lost in the crowd by now if not for his lovely hair.

"What am I doing?!" You harshly mutter to yourself as you stand, grabbing up your jacket and bag before breaking out into a run.

Tendou chewed on his lip as his feet carried him away from the small café. It wasn't like it was totally unusual for him to talk to strangers but he'd never just invited himself to eat with a complete stranger, pay for their meal and then leave. Yet here he was, having done all that, though the latter was being done rather reluctantly. Part of him wanted to turn around and go back to you. You'd only spent the better part of an hour together but he was curious about you. There was something that had drawn him towards you. At first he thought he'd gone to you out of the desire to help, and that was part of it to be sure, but maybe there was more to it. Sure your wobbly French had drawn him over but that wasn't why he stayed. Was it the way you had smiled up at him? Or was it the way you sat and listened to him ramble on with actual interest? Perhaps it was the gentle look on your face when he'd caught you staring off into space. Whatever it was, it had his already slow pace halting.

"Tendou!" His eyes widen at the shout of his name, turning to see you waving at him as you run, reaching him a moment later half out of breath.

"Miss me already?" He jokes, watching as you lean down, bracing your hands against your thighs while you attempt to catch your breath. He isn't kept waiting long as you stand upright, a nervous chuckle finally coming out in response to his initial reply.

"Kinda, yea."

"I-- uh... What?" Tendou falters as he tries to process what you just said, not trusting his ears.

"I know we really don't know each other but it seems like such a shame to just... ignore this."

"Ignore what?" He asks, genuinely confused.

"This!" You state as you frantically motion between the two of you. "I mean what're the odds we'd even meet. Besides, I don't know about you but I don't really know anyone around here and it'd be really nice to change that..." You end with a shrug, starting to second guess this whole endeavour as you watch Tendou stare down at you. His dark red eyes were wide at first, surprised that you had even bothered to run after him but even more so that you wanted to be...well friends or at the very least friendly. His look of surprise softened a moment, a smile on his lips before he narrowed his eyes at you, a glint of mischief in them.

"Sounds pretty suspicious to me but I suppose I can show you around or whatever." His smile widens, almost curling at the ends. "But it'll cost ya."

"C-cost me?" Oh no, maybe this was a bad idea. Perfect stranger remember?! "W-what?"

"Whoa now." He chuckles, holding his hands up in as if the action would ward off whatever dubious thoughts were drifting through your mind. "Just your number... It'd be pretty hard to show you around if I can't get a hold of ya."

"Oh... OH, yea right." You nod, cheeks tinged pink from embarrassment. You pull out your phone and enter his details, not really sparing him a glance, too mortified by the assumptions that had sprung to mind.

"I'll text you so you have my number too." You mumble as you type a short message and hit send. A moment later you hear a ding and Tendou pulls out his phone.

"Ah, is that the time?!" He practically yells as the screen lights up, his carefree smile replaced with panic. "Shit, I gotta go!" He offers you an apologetic smile before hurrying away, leaving you a little startled by his sudden departure but overall happy with the outcome. Your grin down at your phone only to see it light up as it buzzes in your hand.

(02:37pm) Y/N: Hey it's Y/N :)

(02:41pm) Tendou: You Free tomorrow?

[tarantulas4davey]

Ufc Fighter Albert Dasilva Headcanons

hello, people who still follow me despite the fact i never post cause i’m a mess. how y’all doin? my favorite ufc fighter won the other day so now ✨this is what we’re doing✨. also i originally sent this thought to @we-are-inevitable ‘s ask box so find that post here (hi jac ilysm mwah mwah mwah)

i also wrote a part 2 so find that here !!

also,,,,, this is fairly obvious. but trigger warning for violence/physical fighting, and well as blood and injury. (it’s a rough gig y’all fjdhdb)

i sincerely apologize in advance for what a mess this post is gonna be i just had a monster and i’m hyped up on the win and this is a hyperfixation i don’t get to talk about very often so feel free to ask questions and HERE WE FUCKIN GO

OK SO

albert is just,,,,,, a violent sports guy. always has been, probably always will be.

most forms of recreational fighting, football, hockey, rugby, fuck even soccer if he gets too into it. he’s just a Built Person, and he wicked competitive, and that makes for violent displays of athleticism

I think he was probably a hockey or football guy in high school, but he was also on the wrestling team cause i said so

then after graduation he got really into kickboxing, just to have something to do cause he didn’t have school sports to play and train for all the time

and then one day his coach is like ‘hey. you’re like,,, stupid good at this. you should sign up for competitions, you might make some money.’

he does, in fact, ‘make some money’, cause in straight kickboxing? he’s pretty much unmatched on the regional scene, which is ridiculous cause he didn’t start training his stand up game til he was 18 or 19

then American Top Team (ATT, it’s a really big MMA training camp that had trained a boat load of the top talent in the UFC) approaches him like ‘y’know if you worked on your grappling you could be a really solid mma fighter’

which is HUGE, but obviously albert can’t pick up his entire life and move to florida to train with them, so him and race (this is me, of course race is with al. supportive boyfriend and number one fan alert <3) find gyms willing to work with him based in new york. then he starts signing up for shit.

he sticks with stand up fighting when he can, he likes it more and cause,,,,, well. it’s more entertaining. the higher your entertainment value, the more people watch your fights. the more people watch your fights, the more likely you are to get noticed by big promotions (like the ufc)

he uses his wrestling to keep grapplers on their feet (he’s got like a 90% takedown defense, what an icon) and he picks people apart.

he has a lot of technical skill, but he also is fiery and passionate and scrappy. he gets hit too much for his own good a lot of the time.

he’s super durable. this man can get hit clean over and over and stay on his feet, but that’s not gonna hold up forever. it takes a loss or two in a row to motivate him to change it

and oh boy does he change it

he spends a month in auckland, new zealand at city kickboxing (one of the best kickboxing gyms in the world, and they lean heavily on tactics rather than just charging forward blindly)

he’s straight up a different fighter after that. he’s quick, light on his feet, and avoids punches way easier while also setting up the angles for his own. he gets signed to the ufc 2 fights later.

his first fight is short notice. no training camp, he’s got 5 days to make weight, AND it’s against a top 10 ranked opponent. no big deal, right?

and albert, being albert, is super chill about it. sure, this is the opportunity of a lifetime, could decide his entire future as a fighter, and he’s barely got time to prepare.

but he’s in the gym every single day of the week, he doesn’t super cut on weight like most ex-wrestlers, and most importantly, it’s just fighting. all he has to do is get in the octagon and punch some dude in the face. he can do that all day.

race on the other hand,,,,,,,,

he believes in albert with his whole soul, he really does, but Fuck watching your boyfriend get hit in the head is no fucking fun. especially when you know that the guy throwing the punches has been training for months, and your guy hasn’t even had a week

so he brings jack for moral support. also cause jack is DEFINITELY a ufc fan and was the only one that would understand what was happening.

at some point in the first round albert gets caught clean, opening a cut on his cheek, which makes race Panic Even More

but he gets cleaned up between rounds, and it’s not swelling so he can still see, and it’s over by the middle of the second.

and albert wins, cause (this is fiction and i’m telling a story) of fucking course he does, and he probably wins with some stupid dramatic spinning back kick and gets clipped on twitter cause he’s just Like That

the part that makes me, as the ralbert shipper, super fucking happy is coming up but i need to add a lil real talk first

considering albert is like,,,, openly in a relationship with a man when he gets into the ufc,,,,, that makes him the first publicly gay ufc fighter. like,,,, ever.

this is realized after his hand gets raised after the ref calls the stoppage.

bruce buffer makes the official announcement, al gets his hand raised, he gets interviewed by joe rogan, and then his coaches, jack and race get to come into the cage

at first everyone things it’s a best friend or something, especially after the dap up bro hug things he gives his coaches and jack

but then albert sees race, and you can watch this boy’s face light up on the camera. then race throws his arms around albert’s neck and albert half lifts him off the ground in a hug around his waist and ok, sure, that’s not the most platonic thing you’ve ever seen, but that doesn’t prove anything

and then albert kisses race. like full, actual, on the mouth in front of all the cameras kiss. cause he doesn’t give a shit.

and nobody’s talking about his spinning back kick anymore, cause Holy Shit That Wasn’t Very Straight Of You Dasilva

but he doesn’t address it, cause every other fighter gets to kiss their wife or girlfriend or whatever in the cage after they win and nobody bats an eye, so why should it be any different for him and his boyfriend?

also, because it needs to be said, statistically there are ALREADY lgbtq+ male fighters in the ufc. like currently, in real life. they’re just not out publicly. the ufc has openly supported queer people’s rights in the past, and is partnered with 4 prominent HIV/AIDS awareness organizations. there is multiple openly queer women currently fighting in the ufc, including amanda nunes, who has been repeatedly called the greatest women’s fighter of all time. but as of right now, there is no openly mlm ufc fighters, so that would technically make albert the first. we love a trend setter. now back to what i’m supposed to be talking about djdhdbd

and eventually interviewers and fans on twitter realize that they’re only going to get one answer to vague questions about sexuality, which is “i’m dating a man and i fight people for a living. if that makes me a revolutionary, so be it bro.”

he includes race in a lot of his answers, especially in interviews where they ask more personal questions or grill him on his mental game, cause he loves race and thinks he deserves credit for everything he does to make al a better person and a better fighter

also, purely for my own entertainment, i think after he becomes champion (cause of course he does) he goes on the joe rogan podcast, and joe is pretty much the only one who gets albert to talk about any of it in a genuine way

he doesn’t get sarcasm or a blunt “can we talk about fighting, now?” like everyone else, he gets a real answer, cause that’s what albert came on to do anyway

he talks about getting together in highschool, and how it was race’s idea for him to start kickboxing in the first place, and what a fucking genius race is and how he’s getting his PhD right now, and how he didn’t want to talk about it cause he didn’t want to be the “gay fighter”, and how that’s a trivialization of his relationship with race and he refuses to let it be seen as anything but what it is, which is the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to him

just. Ugh. them <3

THIS POST IS SO LONG HOLY SHIT DHDHDHDH

anyway-

y e a h. albert dasilva would rock anyone’s shit. if i keep having thoughts about this i’ll make one about him becoming champion. thank you for your time ✨

also gonna tag @soaps-posts cause the brainrot is powerful so here you are my dear <3

[aerinsfables]

How many goats must I sacrifice for part 5? (p.s., may I suggest “Blooming Friendship” or some sappy ,punny line for the title?)

No goats necessary, but I will accept a donation of cookies! 😁

Also your title suggestion is hilarious and much appreciated (I love puns). I was thinking “love amongst the flowers” or something, but haven’t been able to bring myself to be quite that corny yet 😂 (can you tell I’ve been watching ATLA lately?). Will give it some more thought. Whyyyy is naming things so freaking hard sometimes?!?

——

Flower Shop AU Part 5 below. Read part 4 here!

——

Bracken didn’t hear back from Kendra until Friday, when she sent a short email.

Long story short, he was my fiancée. Gavin. I caught him cheating. Among other things.

Seth tells me you’ll be coming over for tomorrow’s barbeque. I’m sorry if he harassed you. He can be such a busybody sometimes, but he means well.

He replied with a short message of his own.

I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I believe you’ve truly dodged a bullet with regard to Gavin. That’s a very, very good thing. You deserve someone who will treat you with kindness and respect, and who will mirror your loyalty.

Seth was fine. My father liked him. He was nice, and I appreciated the invitation. To be honest, I’m more apprehensive about potentially forced conversation with people I don’t know. I’m good at small talk with prospective vendors and with customers, but it’s been a while since I’ve socialized with people in a friend setting. Most of the friends I’ve had historically have either moved out of town or have their own busy lives and fell out of touch. Many are married, some have children, and I fit into neither of those categories.

Anyway. Enough about me. You’ll be there tomorrow, right? Would you care to help rescue me from awkward socialization if I need it? Who else will be attending?

He typed his personal email address into the CC field and wrote another bit:

I’m copying my personal email address here, as well, in order to move this conversation to a more private setting. I hope you don’t mind. My mother, father, youngest sister and I all have access to the company email. I run it primarily, but still.

The “send” button was clicked before he could rethink his words too much. He returned to his tasks for the day and paused a few minutes later when he heard his phone ding with a new notification. Kendra had already replied to his email, this time to his personal address.

You’re right; I dodged a bullet. It’s just not so easy to recover from it all. I’ll get there.

You have siblings? How many? Are they always up in your business like my brother is?

Attendees for tomorrow’s BBQ are largely family members of mine. My parents, grandparents, Warren and his girlfriend, Dale, Seth. Maybe a few family friends. This had been planned for a while, and Warren and Seth both wanted to invite you. I’ll help protect you from the masses, but my family is honestly pretty great. I doubt you’ll need any rescuing.

He smiled as he finished the corsage he’d been working on, then replied back to her.

Healing is a process. It’s okay to take time for that. If he was your fiancée, then that means you felt strongly for him; you probably still feel strongly for him. There’s no shame in that. Take your time to heal.

I have four sisters, and they are all constantly ‘up in my business,’ as you put it. I’m number four in the lineup of children; my oldest sister lives about five hours away with her husband and my only nieces - no nephews yet. Sister Number Two is quite introverted and lives at home with our parents. She runs a small sewing business from there. Sister 3 is only a couple years older than me; she is a lawyer in the city and lives downtown near the courthouse with a couple of roommates. Sister 4 works at the shop with me part-time while she’s going to school. She’s working toward becoming a nurse, and just got engaged this week. She’s the bubbly, outgoing type.

What about you? Have you any siblings aside from Seth? What is your family like?

He started in on another corsage - he had to have 25 of them ready to go before he left that evening, and he’d done 11 so far - and smiled when he heard his phone ding again several minutes later. A quick glance at it told him that Kendra had replied again.

Four sisters! That’s a lot of siblings. And a lot of estrogen. Just the one brother for me. I’m pretty sure my parents decided to quit having children once they realized how difficult Seth was going to be. Mischief and trouble are his best friends. I’m amazed he’s survived into adulthood.

I have two sets of grandparents that live nearby. We’re all pretty tight-knit. Warren and Dale are cousins of my dad’s mom. I have no idea how many times removed or whatever that is, so I just call them my cousins. Vanessa, Warren’s long time girlfriend, is a tattoo artist. I’ve been staying at their house since Monday, instead of my apartment.

The BBQ will be at my dad’s parent’s house. Other people who might drop by are Elise, who works with Vanessa, Mara, who works for one of the nearby wineries and is dating Elise, Tanu, our family doctor who we’ve become very good friends with, and Trask, who knows my grandfather somehow. That’s never been super clear to me, to be honest. He’s an old family friend. At any rate, we’re an eclectic bunch of people, and I expect tomorrow will be lively and fun.

What kinds of things do you like to do in your free time?

Bracken thought on these things for a little while, and finished another corsage, before he answered.

It sounds like there will be a good mix of people. I look forward to meeting them.

I’m a bit of an artist in my free time. Drawing and painting are my preferred methods. I enjoy cooking, too, but don’t often do anything too fancy since I’m usually only cooking for myself. Puzzles are nice. Honestly, I spend most of my time at the shop. Sunday evenings are when my family gathers for dinner, minus my oldest sister, who lives too far away for that to be feasible. She usually visits once every couple of months, and stays with my parents for a few days. That’s when I steal my nieces and spoil them to death.

What do you like to do in your spare time?

The rest of the day passed with a fairly steady stream of emails between the two of them. Kendra loved books, and would love to be a novelist one day, but hadn’t found her inspiration yet. Her favorite colors were blue and pink, she had studied French in high school but hadn’t made it to France yet (a dream of hers), and she was thinking about going back to college to get her master’s degree in English Literature. She’d asked about how Bracken found his way into flowers, and he’d explained that his parents had established the shop when he was in elementary school. He’d learned the business over the years and enjoyed leaning into his artistic side, so it was a pretty natural progression for him to work there after he’d graduated from the local university with a degree in business (his goal being to inherit the shop someday). To his pleasant surprise, conversation with Kendra flowed easily, and he left the shop that day with a positive feeling about the next day’s gathering.

---

Part 6 is here!

[abused-sides]

Roommates Au

Warning: This is an au following Virgil as a domestic abuse survivor, and there’s some other past abuse as well, also ptsd, anxiety, depression, everything like that. Be cautious.

Virgil:

Met his boyfriend when he was 18, and his boyfriend was 25.

Virgil moved out of his parents’ house and into his as soon as he graduated high school.

They dated for 3 years, and pretty much immediately, his boyfriend put all his rules in place.

Virgil wasn’t allowed to leave the house at all, was allowed very little internet access and wasn’t supposed to speak to anyone, and took care of house maintenance like cleaning, cooking, organizing, etc.

After about a year, he had a breakdown, and decided he wanted to leave. He told his boyfriend, who was, uh, not a fan of that idea. Virgil decided he was going to do it anyway, and very, VERY slowly started sneaking tiny amounts of money away from his boyfriend and hiding it around the house.

When he had enough, he waited until he was home alone, took the money, and snuck away to catch the train into the city.

He barely had any money left, and spent a few weeks hopping around homeless shelters until he found Logan, Roman, and Patton’s ad for an extra room. He was just barely short first month’s rent, but he was one of the very few applicants and upon interview, Patton begged the others to let Virgil stay.

He didn’t know how to find a job, especially quickly, and he started panicking very fast. Roman’s theatre desperately needed crew members, and though it’s a very small minimum wage, it was something and Virgil spends his time there until he finds out what he wants to do.

He also sometimes assists Patton in baking, and Patton insists on giving him a cut of the profits. “I wouldn’t have met my deadline without you! You deserve it!”

Patton:

Patton comes from a very loving, though very conservative family. He loves spending time with them but admittedly moved to the city to get away from them and some space to breathe.

He makes the most money out of the four of them from his at-home bakery. He’s extremely flexible, talented, and friendly, so it’s relatively easy to get orders.

He met Roman at a thrift store a week before Halloween, when they were both scrambling to get a costume together that they could realistically afford. Roman lived with Remus at the time, but was trying to move into his own space. He didn’t have the funds, and when Patton mentioned he was looking for a place too, they took down each other’s numbers and agreed to try and find something.

Logan:

Logan does freelance work in coding, website building, and resume critiquing/workshopping. He makes less money than Patton but a good deal more than Roman.

He absolutely refuses to talk about his past with anybody, and the only family they know of is his older brother (Remy), who he’s sometimes on the phone with but otherwise never mentions.

He tries to be as uninvolved with everyone as possible, to see them as only roommates and nothing more, and to stay out of their way, but his resolve breaks a little when Virgil arrives.

He spends quite some time over at Janus and Remus’ apartment, but won’t tell anyone why.

Logan met the others by responding to an ad they put out looking for roommates. He had the cash and wasn’t overly rude, so Patton and Roman accepted him.

Roman:

Roman works at a local theatre making minimum wage, the least amount of all of them. He makes a little extra money doing art and costume commissions.

He’s also pretty hush about his past and doesn’t talk about his parents, but Patton knows what happened and helps the best he can.

Roman and Patton are best friends (maybe qpp?)

Remus:

Janus knows all about Remus’s past, but any time someone asks him, he gives a different story.

“He and Roman were left in the back of a parked truck as toddlers. A gracious cowboy took them home.”

“The twins grew up in a traveling circus, forced to do labour since they were babies. Remus is really good with fires and lions, particularly together.”

“They were accidentally made in a meth lab, when their cook wanted to create androids that could help with the workload. Don’t touch the back of their necks- It shuts them off.”

Remus works as a chef in a popular restaurant downtown, and makes some secret side money by doing some interesting streams on some interesting websites with his face cut out of frame. He likes both his jobs equally.

He’s constantly begging Roman to get a more stable job, to get something safer and do his art on the side.

He and Janus have been dating since high school, and saved up for their shitty apartment for a long time.

Janus:

Janus works as a call center receptionist, and makes more money than any of them (but will never let on to how exhausted and angry he is).

He’s as tight-lipped as Logan, only snarkier and more defensive. Roman and Remus know his past, but even Roman is respectful enough to not blab.

He takes philosophy and law classes in his free time at the local community college, but his job takes up so much time and energy that he’s had to retake classes multiple times and honestly isn’t making much progress.

He’s very proud about the fact that he’s going to be a defensive attorney.

When he gets scared or defensive, he lies, usually very poorly and impulsively. It comes out of his mouth without him realizing it and then he’s too embarrassed to take it back, so he holds onto it forever.

Relationships:

I’m thinking romantic intruloceit, queerplatonic royality, and, although it’s very unlike me, romantic prinxiety? How you all feel about that?

Please send me asks about this au, I love it.

[woohoonooboo]

@softeberrie​‘s sugar baby bachelorette challenge

name: priscilla mae cunningham age: 46 (adult) traits: materialistic - evil - dance machine gender and pronouns: pansexual cis woman (she/her) household funds: 500,000ish (i might’ve left in more by mistake but shh) occupation: supreme villain (lvl 10 of the secret agent career, villain branch) interests/hobbies: dancing, clubbing, partying, shopping, villainy, mischief, mixology, fitness (particularly hiking, biking, and rock climbing), sex what your sim is looking for in a sugar baby: a good fuck to spoil with lavish gifts, shopping sprees, and extravagant vacations; someone to keep her company in her obscenely large mansion in the country (or wherever life takes them); a companion to gossip with background story: from her to birth into her father’s doughnut empire to her years spent in the limelight as america’s sweetheart in her hit sitcom big house on the little corner, priscilla mae has been accustomed to a certain way of life--one that she’s willing to share.

full backstory under the cut because i accidentally wrote a fucking novel

ps jeejee i have her on sfs ready to go if you want her < 3

born into the world of beauty pageants and a misogynistic upper class society, priscilla mae’s mother had always been held to certain standards and expected the same in return from her daughter. a proud southern belle who had been tragically left a widow after a vending machine suddenly ended her poor husband’s young life shortly after the birth of their only child, she taught priscilla mae from a young age that to get anywhere in life you only needed two things: beauty and money. it was a lesson that priscilla mae carried with her throughout all her life as she competed in endless pageants; starred in her own television show; and settled down with san myshuno’s most legible bachelor, beau cunningham, upon turning eighteen and discovering her mother had squandered away the family fortune and whatever money priscilla mae had earned throughout her childhood.

beau was a fabulously wealthy, albeit much older, business man who was away more often than not but still found the time to have his secretary pick out expensive gifts to send to the new mrs. cunningham to keep up the appearance of being a loving husband. this was more than fine by priscilla mae, for the two had settled on an agreement: priscilla mae would gain unlimited access to beau’s bank accounts and in return he would gain unlimited access to her holes, as beau had so delicately phrased it. on occasion he’d stop by for a quick booty call before he had to catch his next flight. this resulted in the birth of their three children—jud, jackson, and june belle—and beau’s eventual vasectomy. priscilla mae was ecstatic to be a mother and spent most of her days tending to her children. during schools day, priscilla mae spent her time in designer stores, spas, and exclusive country clubs; on the weekends she found herself throwing parties for all her friends and family, attending charity events (sometimes with, but more often than not in place of her husband) which kept her in the spotlight despite retiring from acting, and club hopping after the children had been put to sleep; and each holiday she took the children to some far away five star resort to celebrate and shower them in more toys than they could possibly ever play with as a vain consolation for beau’s constant absence.

although gained under unfortunate circumstances, priscilla mae quite enjoyed her new life for many years. however, when her children inevitably grew into young adults and had all left home, she found herself with more free time than she knew what to do with. suddenly she grew tired of the same routine she had stuck with for more years than she could remember. priscilla mae decided it was time for a change and took her new free time to achieve a dream she had since she was just a little girl: becoming a super villain. she enrolled at foxbury, wanting only the finest education available. after graduating at the top of her class with a distinguished degree after only a few years, priscilla mae left san myshuno far behind and moved back to the countryside where she had spent her childhood. although she claimed it was because she had grown tired of the city’s incessant hustle and bustle and longed for peace, those close to her knew the truth: there’s nowhere to hide an underground secret lair in an apartment.

with her newfound “hobby” to break up the monotony of her old life, priscilla mae eagerly embarked on an exciting journey: causing complete and utter chaos for sims all over the globe. for a short while she was happy, content with wreaking havoc on innocent civilians during the day and partying at night, until one day the freedom priscilla mae had cherished for so long came to an abrupt end.

beau, now an even older man than before, suffered a heart attack while away in sulani on business. after spending some time in the hospital, he was flown out to the mansion where he could further rest. it was at this time priscilla mae really got to know the man she married so many years ago, and it was at this time that she grew to hate him as well.

every little thing that beau did grated on her nerves. she despised the way he talked, the sounds he made when he was chewing, how he expected her to light his cigars when he knew the smell makes her sick, his obnoxious friends he invited over at odd hours... but what she resented most of all was the way he expected her to dote on him hand and foot, to drop everything to tend to his every need without so much as a “please” or “thank you” in return. the nerve of it all, tearing her down right after she had just found a new meaning in life. priscilla mae wasn’t going to stand by idly as her dream got ripped to shreds before her very eyes.

no, she was going to have a plan. she was going to finish him in more ways than one.

a mere two weeks after beau’s release from the hospital, priscilla mae decided she was going to surprise him after an exhausting day with a little gift. upon following her to her lair, beau discovered priscilla mae had another secret room put into the mansion: a sex room. immediately after opening the door he was greeted by something he had only seen in adult films: in the very middle of the room was a brand new sex swing just waiting to be broken in. overcome with lust, he got onto it eagerly at priscilla mae’s request and then it began...

and then it completely ended.

poor priscilla mae... how was she supposed to know that her darling husband’s heart would give out during his orgasm?

after playing the part of the grieving wife for a few months to not cause suspicion, priscilla mae went back to her old life that she had missed so dearly. for a year or so she was content again until she started to find the silence in the mansion deafening. the only relief from it’s during the holidays when her children and grandchildren come to visit, but almost as quickly as it starts it ends and priscilla mae finds herself once again alone in large, quiet rooms. now she looks for a way to fill the silence in the form of a sugar baby--what better way is there for her to pay it forward?

[duhragonball]

I was thinking about Goku and Krillin's friendship and it occured to me that they spent months training with Roshi together but then only saw each other for maybe a day every few years. Have you ever had a realization that tripped you out like this?

This is a really good ask, anon, and I just wanted to take a moment to say so. 

I have had a few ‘a-ha’ moments like these, but I’m kind of blanking on specific examples.  I’ll see what I can come up with.

1) For openers, there’s the whole thing where the Red Ribbon Army has a Dragon Radar, but it’s nowhere near as sophisticated as the handheld one Bulma invented.  I think the same holds true for Emperor Pilaf, but his gang is only three people.   You’d expect the RRA to have the best equipment possible, because that’s their whole deal, and by normal standards they probably do have the best possible Dragon Radar... but Bulma’s is simply that much better, because she’s on another level.   And it’s easy to overlook that, because Bulma’s supposed to be a genius teenager, like Donatello in TMNT, but the RRA’s Dragon Radar is the first hint that she’s even more special than we could have guessed. 

2) Rewatching Dragon Ball in 2019, I gained a new appreciation for the filler episodes where Mr. Popo trained Goku.  The first time I saw them, I was hoping we’d see Goku grow up and make progress over the three year gap, but instead they just focused on his early days on the Lookout, with Popo just saying things and Goku failing to understand.  It was very frustrating to watch.  

But in 2019, I noticed that all those episodes get paid off in the Piccolo Junior fight.   Popo kept telling Goku to be “quicker than lightning” and “quiet as the sky”, and Goku just couldn’t figure out how to do that, let alone fight at the same time.   He had to unlearn all the stuff that had helped him defeat King Piccolo, and he couldn’t do it... at first.    But by the time he fought Piccolo Junior, he put it all together, as demonstrated with his big finishing move.   Piccolo thought he had vaporized Goku, only for Goku to fly up into the air and crash into him.   Why didn’t Piccolo sense Goku’s presence?   Because Goku had learned to become as “quiet as the sky”.  Why couldn’t Piccolo dodge it?   Because Goku had learned to become “quicker than lightning.”  So it vindicates those filler episodes pretty nicely.   They weren’t just marking time, but they were setting up what the manga was going to do later.

3) I think last year, it hit me that Vegeta had probably never lost a fight before he went to Earth.   That alone isn’t probably any big deduction.  The only people stronger than him were all working for Frieza, and he knew to steer clear of them until he was ready.   But it explains why he was so giddy about the zenkai effect.   He had always known about it, but he never mentioned or cared about it until he experienced it for himself after losing to Goku, and then Zarbon. 

Yeah, I think this occurred to me during a conversation about Vegeta killing Nappa instead of helping him.   In theory, Nappa could have recovered and gotten a lot stronger, just like Vegeta did.   But Saiyans Saga Vegeta didn’t care about that.   He only gave his henchmen one chancemand discarded them as soon as they lost.   This attitude would also explain why he never dared to challenge anyone at a higher level.    He knew no one would show him any mercy, so the zenkai boost would have been meaningless to him. 

So he might have regretted killing Nappa after he experienced the zenkai firsthand, although he was so drunk on his own increased power that he probably never stopped to consider it.   But before Earth, Vegeta probably dismissed the zenkai as a crutch for lesser Saiyans.   In his mind, a truly great Saiyan never loses battles in the first place.  Or so he believed, until he lost a few times, and became stronger for it, and had to reconsider.

And that also explains how he warmed up to the Super Saiyan Legend over the course of one afternoon.   He and Goku made such sick gains that week that he started to wonder if you could zenkai your way to Super Saiyan, and then he was begging Krillin to shoot him just so he could get a step closer.

4) In the same vein, it occurred to me at some point that Bardock was probably stronger than King Vegeta, and neither of them realized it.   Maybe it was just a dub-ism, but I’m pretty sure “Father of Goku” has a line about Bardock’s power level being 10000.   At the time it was released, 10k wasn’t that big a deal, but in the Saiyans Saga, Vegeta was somewhere around 18-24k. Later, he would claim to have surpassed his father as a child, so I think it’s fair to assume that King Vegeta must have been in that 10,000 neighborhood. 

Which makes a nice subtle commentary on why the Saiyan Kingdom failed. They tried to breed better warriors, putting all their stock in the royal family, when the true secret lay in warriors like Bardock, who were constantly getting clobbered and healed.  Prince Vegeta only started to make real progress once he began fighting on that same regimen.

5) Also about “Father of Goku,” Frieza only wanted Planet Kanassa subjugated because of the psychic powers of its inhabitants.   I think the dub insinuated that the planet itself gave people those powers, but whatever the case, Frieza heard about these people with unusual powers and wanted them stamped out immediately.   Just like he wiped out the Saiyans over the Super Saiyan Legend, and just like he planned to destroy Namek to prevent anyone else from using the Dragon Balls. 

In short, Frieza fears and despises legends.  Why?  Because he’s so powerful that real people can’t hurt him, so his fears naturally turn to half-truths and folklore.   He chases down ghost stories and rumors, because let’s face it, what else does he have to occupy his time.   That’s why King Cold was happy to have the Saiyans working for him, while Frieza wanted them all dead.   Cold didn’t share Frieza’s hangups.   Cold barely knew what a Super Saiyan was, while Frieza thought about it all the time. 

6) One day I thought about that timeline where Cell killed Trunks and took the time machine to find the androids.    That specific timeline is pretty much empty.  The Z-fighters are all dead, and so are all of the androids and Trunks.  They don’t even have a Cell anymore because he went back in time and never returned.   There’s still a population, I guess, because the Trunks of that world wouldn’t have just stood by while Cell absorbed everyone on Earth, but that’s about it.   Bulma might have survived Cell’s attack on Trunks, but she’d be the only “name” character on the board.  It just sounds like a pretty depressing world.   Maybe this was the timeline Whis picked out to relocate Blunks and Future Mai in Dragon Ball Super.

7) It sort of blows my mind that the entire Majin Buu arc takes place over a couple of days.    Like, episode 207 through 250 all takes place over one day.   We know this because Goku only had 24 hours to be back in the living world, and that time was cut short by his use of SSJ3.  Then the Elder Kai started doing his ritual to make Gohan stronger, and that took like 25 hours, I’m pretty sure.  That wrapped up in #262, and there was no break in the action from that point onward, all the way up to the defeat of Kid Buu in #287.  So yeah, eighty episodes over two days.   It’s practically real-time footage, save for skipping over the Elder Kai’s ritual and Goten and Trunks practicing and sleeping. 

It’s hard to catch on to this, though, because so much stuff happens in the anime version that leads you to think that it’s a much longer span of time.    After Vegeta wrecks the stadium, the anime can’t decide whether or not Mr. Satan would stay there or return to his dojo.   In the Fusion Saga, Mr. Satan wanders from Buu’s house to the nearest town, then he wanders to the next town over, doing his “Last Man on Earth” bit, except this all happens during the Gotenks/Super Buu fight, which barely lasts half an hour.   In the afterlife, Chi-Chi is worried that she can’t find Gohan, but she wouldn’t have even been there that long, and wouldn’t she still be in line to meet King Yemma?  She was one of the last Earthlings to die, so how did she end up in heaven so quickly?

8) I used to think Movie 13 (the Hirudegarn one) was canon, but the last time I watched it, I noticed all these glaring problems.  They use the Dragon Balls in this one, which means it has to be set six months after the wish to make everyone forget about Majin Buum which means it’s been a year since Kid Buu was defeated.  Okay, fine, except Gohan and Videl are still in high school.   Shouldn’t they have graduated by then?   

More importantly, their high school and Bulma’s house seem to be in the same city.   I guess that’s an easy mistake to make.   It took me a long time to even notice, but Orange Star High is in Satan City, which is a totally different place from West City.   I mean, right?  They’re not terribly far apart, but they’re not the same place either.

Then again, they seemed to make the same error in Episode 287, where Bulma’s out shopping and Great Saiyaman 1 and 2 foil a robbery.   Are they in West City or Satan City?  Maybe there’s more to this...

[the-lincyclopedia]

* adapted from @librajiminn on twitter

A fun game to celebrate 2020 ending! The rules are simple: recommend your favorite OMGCP fics so everyone can enjoy them, while trying to fill in enough slots to get a bingo!

This is going to get long, so I’ll put it under a cut. Also, I’m too orderly to try to shoehorn my favorite fics into these particular prompts, so I’m just going to go right to left, top to bottom, taking the prompts literally, until it’s bedtime. 

1. first fic you bookmarked: “Here Comes the Sun” by @doggernaut, 19k, G, no warnings, Zimbits

For the past month, the man with the baby and the sad blue eyes has been stopping in for a cup of coffee an hour before closing. He always sits in an overstuffed chair in the corner and drinks his coffee while his baby sleeps next to him in the stroller. Sometimes he pulls a book out from the diaper bag he carries with him; other times he just stares straight ahead as if in a daze. He never asks for a refill, always respectfully gathers his things and leaves ten minutes before the shop officially closes. Eric desperately wants to ask him what his story is. 

My notes: I read Check Please over the course of two days in June of 2019. On the second day, right after catching up, I looked at @peppermintfeminist‘s AO3 bookmarks and found a fic by @doggernaut. Then I read just about everything @doggernaut had ever posted. It was glorious. This fic in particular is so cute. 

2. most recent fic you bookmarked: “Flight Check” by @edgarallanrose, 15k, E, no warnings (though there is a creepy/handsy guy at a club to watch out for), primarily Zimbits with most of the other popular pairings in the background

Flight attendant Eric “Bitty” Bittle has been working his way up at Samwell Airlines for the past four years, and his new promotion has provided him the opportunity to work with a brand-new crew. Unfortunately for Bitty, that crew includes an incredibly handsome but equally grumpy pilot, Captain Jack Zimmermann, who seems to want nothing to do with Bitty. Even worse, Jack refuses to eat any of Bitty's baked goods. Will Bitty be able to win the captain over? Or is there another reason Jack has been avoiding Bitty?

My notes: There are a lot of great things about this fic--Jack’s character arc, Lardo’s dialogue, that scene in Seattle--but the reason I bookmarked it is the scene where Bitty’s basically slut-shaming himself and Jack gently but firmly tells Bitty not to do that and that it was the creep’s fault. 

3. a fic that made you cry actual tears: “a little bit more” by @ivecarvedawoodenheart, 14k, T, no warnings, Holsom

“I just wanted,” he says, “a perfect day. With you. Because it’s our last day together and our last day being here as undergrads and we’re kissing the ice tonight, and the weather’s supposed to be beautiful, and you’re moving tomorrow and Holtzy I just — I don’t want to be missing you already.” Holster wipes his eyes before he even realizes he’s crying. Behind him, Ransom sighs. “One more day where everything’s the same,” he says, feeling around blindly for Rans’ fingers. He feels Rans nod as he laces their fingers together. “Yeah. Yeah, Rans. I’d like that a lot.” __________________________

Holsom after graduation and throughout the subsequent six months after Holster signs to an expansion team in Oregon, and realizes his feelings for Ransom too late. Holster's POV :) kinda angsty, but there's a happy ending :)

Inspired by shitty-check-please-aus: "Holster moves to Oregon while Ransom stays on the east coast. The time difference makes it difficult to talk and one day they wake up and realize they aren’t best bros anymore."

My notes: I almost never cry at fics. I searched “tears” in my fandom email account and only a handful of my fic comments came up, but Syd is a literal master of Holsom angst, always. 

4. longest fic you’ve read: “Like Real People Do” by @xiaq, 153k, M, No Warnings, Kent Parson x OC

Parson gestures with his spoon toward Hawke. “So am I allowed to ask about the service dog or is that not PC?”

“My medical history is more of a 3rd date conversation," Eli says.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because. No one sticks around afterward and I like to live in glorious denial for a short period beforehand.”

It comes out more self-deprecating than he intended.

Parson looks…thoughtful. “Well, does this count as one or two?

“Pardon?”

“This. Ice cream. I mean, technically it’s a second location, but still the same night. So is this one date or two?”

“One,” Eli says firmly. “If it’s happening within the same three-hour period.”

“You’re the expert,” Parson says, which, he’s really, really, not, but ok.

“So still two dates to go then?” Parson continues.

“I—what?”

“We’ve got a roadie coming up but then we’re home for almost two weeks. When does your semester start?”

“You want to do this again?” Eli asks.

Parson stops idly twirling his spoon.

“You don’t?”

He does, Eli realizes. He really does. Because apparently he actually likes Kent fucking Parson.

My notes: Okay, this fic has my whole entire heart. I’ve read it multiple times in its entirety, and it’s almost twice as long as the full-length novel I’m querying. Eli is one of my favorite OCs I’ve ever seen in a fic (probably tied with Damian Navarro and Ari Paxton, both brainchildren of @fozmeadows). Anyway, this is probably going to be the next thing @themeaningoflifeischeese and I read out loud to each other. 

5. a fic you almost didn’t read: “when all else fails (i’ll still be right here)” by @whoacanada, 6k, T, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (and I don’t remember if I think there’s stuff to warn for, sorry), Zimbits

The National Hockey League is resurrecting the Quebec City Nordiques, and the expansion draft hits the Falconers much harder than expected.

My notes: Given that this was for @omgcpheartbreakfest, I was worried this would be all angst--all hurt and no comfort. Which made me sad, because I love @whoacanada‘s writing but I wasn’t up for reading unresolved angst. But @doggernaut reblogged the fic, so I asked if the ending was sad, and it’s NOT! There is quite a bit of angst but the ending isn’t sad. 

6. a fic that convinced you on a ship you didn’t ship before: “it drops with the gravity of rain” by @geniusorinsanity, 16k, T, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (attempted sexual assault by an OC), Nurseydex

It happens like this:

“I don’t--this is a bad idea,” Dex says, his lips still tingling, his hands shaking on Nursey’s hips where he’s shoved him away. “This is a really bad idea, Nurse. I can’t--We can’t do this.”

And there’s hurt in Nursey’s eyes and his bottom lip is swollen from Dex’s teeth, but he says, “Okay.” And then, “It’s chill, Dex. Just friends, then.”

It happens like this:

“Actually,” Nursey says, talking more to his granola than to them, “I kind of have a date.”

It happens like this:

When Nursey calls, Dex almost doesn’t pick up the phone.

My notes: So I was really confused and a little disturbed when I first found out people shipped Nursey and Dex. Like, Dex just wasn’t someone I trusted. But then I was moving out of the house I’d been living in, and I needed stuff to listen to as I packed and cleaned, and @khashanakalashtar‘s podfics came in clutch. I gave this one a try even though I didn’t like Dex, and @geniusorinsanity blew. My. Mind.

7. a fic from an unusual POV: “Excuse Me While I Kiss This Guy” by @porcupine-girl, 8k, G, no warnings, Zimbits

Jesse Snowden knows all the best restaurants and gourmet food shops in Providence, so when Jack Zimmermann starts bringing in incredible baked goods, he's eager to find out where the new bakery is. When he meets the man behind the pies, he decides that there's no way Jack could really appreciate this guy's talent the way he does, even if they are friends. He starts hiring Jack's chef on the side, in the hopes that maybe once Bitty's done with college he'll come work for Jesse.

Good thing there is absolutely no way whatsoever that Jesse could possibly be misinterpreting this situation.

My notes: Oh my gosh this is so funny. The secondhand embarrassment factor is huge, but like, the hilarity. 

8. a comfort fic: “Don’t Need to Compromise” by @khashanakalashtar, 11k, E, no warnings, PB&J

“Hey,” said Kent, unknowingly setting off a chain of events that would change his entire life, “you said that like you know from experience. Have you done this before?”

Jack and Bitty have not done polyamory before, but they do know Ransom and Holster’s polycule, which contains March.

And March?

March is trans.

My notes: I’m in love with @khashanakalashtar‘s entire Directionverse series (and honestly a lot of their other writing), but “Don’t Need to Compromise,” which is the second fic in the series, just makes my heart swell especially much. The gender feels are so good, and all the characters are so good to each other, and when I listen to this on walks I have to actively try not to arm-flap. 

9. a fic you wish could be a movie: “Ice Crew Please!” by @petals42, 61k, T, no warnings, Zimbits

Jack Zimmermann was drafted first by the Providence Falconers when he was eighteen years old. He is good at hockey. Very good. His team won the Cup his second year and now, in his third year, they are looking good. Jack should be on top of the world. And some days, he manages to convince himself he is.

He’s not, of course.

Enter the Ice Crew.

AKA: The Ice Crew AU

My notes: This fic has its tender moments, but what I love most about it is the sheer goofiness. Ransom and Holster and Shitty are HILARIOUS in this one. I’d love to see their shenanigans in movie form. 

10. a WIP you read as it was updated: “Something Borrowed” by @fozmeadows, 48k, M, no warnings, Kent x OC

All things considered, Ari did his best to prepare himself for the advent of Kent Parson, Potentially Difficult Housemate and New Star Liney. The problem was that his best was an idiot.

My notes: So technically I didn’t start reading this until the first 19 chapters were posted. But there was still plenty of anticipation for the final few chapters. And like, @fozmeadows (as mentioned above) makes EXCELLENT OCs. And I love how their fics consistently convey that having bad things happen to you does not mark the end of your story. 

Okay, it’s bedtime, so have 10 excellent fics. I got bingo twice, because I went straight across on the top two rows.

[eddie-sweetheart]

🏕 Camp Lovers Lake - Chapter Seven 🏕

An Eddie Munson x Female Reader summer camp story. Set just before the beginning of season 3 of Stranger Things, with a few diversions from the original plot of the series.

🏕 Chapters List

Pairing and tropes • Eddie Munson x Henderson Female Reader - fluff, forced proximity, slightly slow burn, summer camp clichés ♥︎

Summary • June, 1985. Close to the city of Hawkins, Indiana, the placid waters of Lovers Lake stand as the perfect background for the homonymous summer camp, where you’re about to be a counselor for the last time before senior year and then, hopefully, college. Your brother Dustin Henderson won’t be with you this year, as he’s chosen to attend Camp Know Where until July - but with your best friend Robin Buckley at your side and the unexpected addition of Steve Harrington to your duo, the upcoming months seem to promise endless fun and exciting adventures nonetheless. However, as you get closer to Eddie Munson, resident metalhead and drug dealer who’s been forced by his uncle to work at Camp Lovers Lake after another missed graduation, your plans for the summer might have to go in an unexpected direction.

Chapter warnings • Swearing, smoking weed (reader does, too), bullying.

Chapter notes • So sorry it took so long!! Taking a little break really boosted my inspiration, so I hope you'll love this chapter as much as I loved writing it! Happy reading!

Chapter word count: 8.2k

🌹 Masterlist 🌹

The following morning comes faster than you expect, but at the same time the night feels a century long. 

You don’t manage to sleep much, as the conversation you overheard from Tammy about Eddie keeps playing over and over in your head like the broken record of a song you hate, making you drift in and out of unnerving dreams and short sleeping spells. Every time your tired eyes flutter open in the dark, or your body subconsciously jerks awake under the bedsheets, you notice the sky outside your cabin’s window change its color, going from pitch black to soft grey and, finally, a beautiful shade of baby blue. 

By now the crickets have been replaced by hummingbirds, but their joyous chittering doesn’t reach your heart as it usually would - you’re too caught up in wondering what to do with the information you’ve come across, worrying about the terrible consequences those rumors could have if they spread around. And what if they already did? That’s what Jason wants, after all; and you’re sure about this just as you’re sure that hurt and pain would be hidden behind the inevitable, brave façade that Eddie would build against these lies.

By now, indeed, you’ve learned to read a little between the lines of his self-deprecating jokes and blunt attitude. Yes, he’s surely confident enough that he’s not ashamed of who he is and what he likes, but you remember the hint of self-consciousness in his gaze when he lifted his hand up for the little girl during yesterday’s game - as well as the relieved and surprised smile that bloomed on his lips once she gave him a high five. 

You turn around in your bed, and Robin’s voice interrupts your train of thought. 

“You up?” She softly asks, her slightly hoarse voice muffled by the pillow. 

You hum in agreement and climb down the bed with a sigh. You might not be able to do anything about the rest you didn’t get, but getting breakfast may definitely placate the rumbling in your stomach and hopefully make you feel a little better. 

“Did you sleep well?” Robin tentatively questions you again, moving to turn off the alarm clock that’s just burst into an annoying ring on the bedside table. 

You shrug, throwing your camp shirt on as the same thoughts keep running around in your mind. Should you tell Eddie? Should you confront Tammy, or Jason? Ask him - force him to stop spreading such blatant lies and gossip about-

“Eddie will be okay, you know?” Robin tells you, breaking through your literal brainstorm with her voice and her piercing but grounding stare; then, she walks up to you from the bed, her hands going in a million different directions. “I hate to say it, because it means it’s not the first time he's had to face shit like this - but he knows how to handle this kind of stuff. If it were to come out, of course. Not that it should, though. Like, Tammy might even have made it up just for fun - and yeah, that’s a sick way of having fun, but maybe it’s just that”. 

You can’t help but smile at her wild gesturing and incessant attempts to comfort you. You mentally thank the gods of friendship for bringing her to you and making your relationship so close that you don’t even have to speak for her to know what’s wrong with you - and vice-versa, of course. 

“It’s just…” you try, as you nervously wiggle into your denim shorts, “it’s so unfair, Robin. He doesn’t deserve this”. 

“I know, y/n” Robin softly smiles, “I know”. 

You both finish getting ready in silence for the next few minutes. Robin gives you space, because she knows that there’s something else there - something you’ve been keeping to yourself, but that is growing heavier inside of you and that, sooner or later, you’ll have to let out. And she’ll be there to listen, when you’re ready. 

You know that she knows about that. And, as soon as you realize it, that silly, cliché hand-grazing-in-the-popcorn-bag moment suddenly flashes into your mind, reminding you of all the feelings it made you feel. While you walk with Robin towards the Headquarters, the warmth of allowing yourself to fall for someone once again, together with the fear of what it entails, is still with you.

As the path opens up to reveal the wooden building and the glittering waters of Lovers Lake behind it, you catch a glimpse fo none other than Eddie, Steve, Gareth and Jeff in the distance, chattering casually as they climb the steps to the porch, still adorned with the fairy lights from the movie night of just a few hours ago. 

You inadvertently slow down as you see them, and as soon as Robin notices the wave of confusion and hurt that hits you at the sight of the four of them and at the thought of having to pretend that everything is okay once you’ll sit at your table, she finally decides to do something about it. 

“Come here” she states, gently grabbing your arm and directing you towards the woods to your right. She stops just behind the tree line, cornering you against a thick trunk with her arms crossed on her chest. 

“What the hell-“ you mutter, helpless against her determination, but she interrupts you with a shush. 

“Come on, y/n” she begins, never taking her eyes off of you, “I know what we heard is bad - like, atomically bad, but there’s nothing much we can do about it and you know it. Telling the staff would mean our word against Jason’s and Tammy’s, and telling Eddie and the others would only hurt them when there’s still a good chance that these lies will not spread around. Plus, we have the advantage of knowing about what Caver’s been saying before he actually says it - which means that we might even be able to stop this before it blows up. So, what’s really bothering you here?”

At the blunt honesty of her words, you decide against denying the obvious. So, as you gather the courage to confess your feelings, you just lower your eyes and bite your lower lip - which has started to tremble a little bit. 

Robin softly calls you by your name, placing one hand on your shoulder to give you some comfort. “You know you can talk to me, right?” She tells you with one of her signature tilted smiles, “I’m your best friend”. 

You wait for one heartbeat. Then two, then three. 

“I like him, Robin” you finally say with a sigh, and a big weight is immediately lifted from your chest. “I like him very, very much. I mean, he’s so kind, and funny, and creative, and people are not… they are not just unaware of this, they purposefully refuse to know him. And why? Because he’s not an athlete like Jason, or popular like Tammy? Because he doesn’t fit in their idea of respectability, or normality? He deserves better, he truly does, and you know what?” You continue, letting it all out, “I’m no better than them. Because when Steve first told us about him, when I first saw him, there was a tiny little moment when I actually wondered if the way others see him might actually be the way he is. And yes, it was just a moment, and I shook it off - and then I got to actually know him and he just… I don’t know, he blew my mind away, Robin. He’s so many things, he has so many sides and I… I want to know them all, somehow. Get closer to him. But I don’t even know if I deserve it”.

Robin lets you take a breath, smiling softly at you with a hint of her classic “I knew it” expression in her raised eyebrows. Something ruffles the leaves in the woods around you - a gust of wind, a squirrel perhaps.

“Oh, you adorable little dingus. You know you just defined what makes you different from Tammy, Jason, and their awful, bullying lot, right?” Robin finally says, leaning against the tree trunk beside you and nudging your side with her elbow. “You shook that feeling off. You got to know him more. You already got closer to him, as he got closer to you. And now you’re here, twisting and turning in your sleep because it hurts you that people want to hurt him just because he’s Eddie - and if this doesn’t mean that you deserve his friendship, I don’t know what would. And honestly, I might even go as far as saying that his feelings might not be that different from-“

You place one hand on her arm, stopping her words before they come out. “Robin, please, don’t” you softly say, “I do like him, but he doesn’t like me back. I’m not his type, we wouldn’t fit, and there’s no use in pretending otherwise just to make me feel better”.

Robin snorts, shaking her head and rolling her eyes at the sky. “Oh, y/n, Patrick really did a number on you, didn’t he? That little shit” she hisses before looking back straight at you. “Listen, just because some brainless boy didn’t have the guts to stay with you in spite of something as meaningless and stupid as peer pressure and social status, doesn’t mean that everyone will act like him, okay? I see how Eddie is when he’s with you. He laughs, his beautiful doe eyes light up and what’s most important of all, he’s not afraid to be himself. It might be just friendship, I’ll give you that - but I’m not ready to go for unrequited love just yet”.

Your lips curve into a small smile, as you timidly gaze at the play of light created but the sun rays filtering through the tree branches. “Do you really think so? I don’t know, isn’t he like that with everyone?” You ask your friend, avoiding her eyes for a moment as you pick a little piece of bark off a tree.

Robin shrugs. “I’ve never seen him tangled up on the ground with Steve, but who knows what they do in their cabin at night”.

A beat of silence, and then a heartfelt laugh explodes from both of you at the thought of Eddie and Steve hugging and rolling on the ground. The fits of giggles that you can hardly contain for a few minutes perfectly cover the sound of a snapping branch behind the trunk.

“Okay, doofus, let’s put it like this” Robin finally manages to say after taking a deep breath, a grin still plastered on her face, “we’re not saying anything to anyone for now, let’s just see how things go - both on the Carver front and on the feelings front. I’m not going to express any opinions on the latter, either, but you have to promise me that you’re not going to self-sabotage. Just let it flow. Deal?”

You look at the hand she’s offering you, and after a second you grab it and shake it firmly.

“Deal” you repeat, and Robin pulls you into a tight, comforting hug.

“That’s my y/n” she exclaims, leaving her arm around your shoulder as you move back on the path towards the Headquarters. “Now let’s go see our beloved companions and have some damn toast. I’m starving”.

“I really hope Carver’s out of there already” you angrily state, “The sight of that asshole’s entitled face might actually make me want to throw up. Or slam a food tray on his head”.

“I like the tray more” Robin says with a giggle. Your two shadows extend in the sun past the tree line as you quickly walk towards the building - one, however, stays behind in the woods.

— 🏕 —

The chattering noise of the Headquarters is loud enough to drown any further thought about your talk with Robin. 

As you and your friend move through the morning crowd to reach your usual spot at the counselor’s table, you notice that Eddie’s not there; he’s gone for a quick stop at the bathroom, as Jeff is ready to inform you, and even if your heart tightens a little at his absence, your mind unexpectedly relaxes with relief at thought of forgetting about the rumors for a few extra minutes. 

“What’s your plan for today?” Steve asks, nibbling at a piece of toast covered in peanut butter and strawberry jam. “I’m mostly off, except for some swimming lessons this morning”. 

“I’ll be on a hike” Robin cheerily states, soon echoed by Gareth’s groan about his cleaning shift. 

“Eddie and I are on kitchen duty” Jeff replies, nodding at Robin with a smile. “Need an extra sandwich or something?”

Robin offers an enthusiastic “Yes” in return, diving into the details of her favorite ham and cheese combination - strictly no tomatoes allowed. 

“I’m down to the lake, too” you tell Steve in the meantime, after taking a quick bite out of your own toast. “We’re using the canoes all day today”. 

Steve throws you a thumbs up over his coffee mug. “Great. We can walk there together after breakfast”. 

You nod in agreement and go back to your food. You’re almost through the whole slice of bread when the air shifts beside you as someone approaches your table - for a split second you think (or rather, hope) it’s Eddie, but the strong smell of hairspray and the flash of blond hair that you glimpse as you turn around soon reveal that it’s way worse company. 

“Well well well. Good morning to you, Henderson” Jason Carver addresses you with a sly smirk, one palm down flat on the wooden surface of the table next to you as he leans down to speak. 

Your gaze hardens as you slowly place the rest of your breakfast back on the plate, your hunger now completely subsided as anger kicks in at the sight of him. Everyone else at the table turns towards the two of you, and you swear you can feel Robin’s fists tightening without even seeing them.  

“What do you want, Carver?” You ask Jason, looking straight into his icy blue eyes.  The chatter in the background lowers a little as he replies with a crystalline, mean laugh. 

“God, I knew you were a little annoying prissy, Henderson, but you truly have no manners. I’ve just come here to give you some friendly advice” he firmly states, arrogantly holding your stare. “So here it is - Next time you and your friends plot to slam a tray at someone, just remember that I know your dirty little secret. And that it would really fit with some stories I’ve been hearing here and there”. 

You feel all the blood drawing away from your face as soon as Jason’s words are out. 

“Get lost, Carver” Robin spats at him with a fake smile, but the look in her eyes tells you that you’re both thinking the same thing. The fear that he has overheard what you and Robin were talking about back in the woods starts seeping through your every bone, certainty replacing it as soon as he mentions the tray thing - but some kind of survival instinct suggests you to play it cool. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about” you coldly reply, innocently throwing a glance behind Jason to check if Eddie is anywhere close. Thankfully, for now, he’s not. 

Jason’s smirk grows meaner as his elbow bends to close the distance between you, his breath tickling your ear as he lowers his voice almost to a whisper - but his words are still loud enough that your friends can hear them. 

“Blew your mind away, is that right? I wonder what else you blew in return…”

The color comes back to your face all at once, heat invading your cheeks as Steve almost jumps up from his seat, soon followed by Jeff and Gareth. 

“Come on, man” Steve firmly states, taking a step toward Jason and placing one hand on his shoulder. From the way his fingers sink in Jason’s shirt, you realize he must be squeezing him. Hard. “Leave her alone and mind your business. Will you?”

Jason disgustedly shakes Steve off of him as two of his friends come up behind him in his defense. Gareth and Jeff narrow their eyes and come closer to Steve in response. The tension is palpable and the scene has finally caught everyone’s attention; you feel your throat closing up and your eyes water as dozens of eyes pierce through you. Robin takes your hand, but you don’t feel it. 

“Mind your place, Harrington” Jason talks back as he straightens up, one finger pushing deep into Steve’s chest. “Too bad you’re on these freaks' side, you know?”. 

Steve pushes Jason’s hand away and just as he’s about to say something, the worst-case scenario you’ve been picturing in your head for the past few seconds actually comes true. 

“Woah, woah, woah. What’s going on here?” Eddie’s voice breaks through the silence of the Headquarters, his dark curls suddenly appearing through the crowd as he approaches the counselor’s table. “Lost your mommy, Carver?” 

His mocking tone doesn’t seem to reach Jason, who, instead, smirks with satisfaction seeping through his every feature. “Speak of the devil, quite literally. We were just talking about you, Munson”. 

Eddie’s beaming grin turns sour as he hears Jason’s words. His eyes scan the scene: Jason and Steve mere inches from each other, you sitting down with misty eyes and a bewildered look, Robin’s worried gaze and her hand on yours. It’s not hard for him to put the pieces together. 

“Jaaaason Carver” he slowly begins, dragging Jason’s name with a mocking lilt. “I know you’re quite obsessed with me, but I’m sorry to inform you that you’re not my type, man. So, why don’t you just fuck off? It’s way too early in the morning to show your face, don’t you think?”

Jason looks as if he’s about to explode from anger, his eyes viciously darting between Eddie and you. 

Here it comes, you think, he’s about to let it all out. The nasty gossip, the lies, and what’s worse, the truth. We’ve crossed the line, he’s going to make our life a living hell, and god, Eddie is going to know how I feel and he won’t be my friend anymore, and he’ll hate me because I haven’t told him, and -

“Guys, is everything alright?” Mr. Smithson, who’s silently made his appearance in the room, interrupts your thoughts and all the staring, breaking the tension once and for all. The chatter and general buzz from the campers resume in the background, just as if someone‘s just switched the volume back up. 

“Sure thing” Steve lies, patting Jason’s shoulder just a bit too hard. “We were about to go outside. We’re done with breakfast, aren’t we?”

Jason looks definitely upset, but he quickly nods, and that seems to be enough for the camp director. 

“Great. It’s about time you all got ready for today. Jason, why don’t you and your friends come with me? I need to talk with Mrs. Janet about the grocery list and in the meantime you can give her a hand with the breakfast clean up” he exclaims with a smile, turning on his heels to head towards the kitchen. 

Before following him, Jason throws one last despiteful look at you and your friends. “It doesn’t end here, freaks” he blurts out, and his words echo in your mind even once he’s gone. 

— 🏕 —

The rest of the day goes by excruciatingly slowly. 

After breakfast, you manage to carefully avoid Eddie and his questions about what Jason Carver said to you, replying with something very vague about Jason being his usually annoying self, just looking for an excuse to pick a fight. Thankfully, no one except Robin knows what Jason was referring to, so they’re no help in satisfying Eddie’s curiosity and badly hidden worry.

“One thing is Jason coming after me” you hear him say to Gareth and Jeff as you and Steve head out of the Headquarters to reach the lake, “but no way I’ll let him pick on anyone else, especially y/n”.

Steve, of course, tries to ask you what that was about, in his own way of course - going around the topic as delicately and embarrassedly as he can, wanting to do something for you but trying not to pry or make you uncomfortable. You really appreciate his efforts - after all, he’s turning out to be a really good friend and you wouldn’t really mind opening up to him, but the thought of letting anyone else know about your feelings for Eddie Munson is definitely something you don’t want to do right now. Plus, since they’re sharing a cabin, Eddie might ask Steve if he knows anything, and what if Steve lets it spill… no, you trust and like Steve Harrington a lot, but your secret will stay as such for a bit longer. 

Your canoeing double shift, together with the need to direct all your attention and energies to the campers, at least manages to keep your mind occupied. Moving and doing physical activities make time go by a little faster until it’s finally dinner time. After gathering all the canoes in a shack not far from the pier and taking a long, hot shower, you head back towards the Headquarters to meet with the others. 

You eat quietly, listening to the excited recounting of Robin’s hike and to Gareth’s complaints about the kitchen and Mrs. Janet. As soon as he speaks, though, everyone is quick to rush in Mrs. Janet's defense; after all, she’s become one of the most loved staff members since her famous pancake recipe has hit the camp’s tables. 

Every now and then, Eddie throws an inquisitive look in your direction, eyebrows furrowed under his messy fringe, but you pretend not to notice and keep eating until it’s time to go back to the cabins. 

It takes a few seconds for Robin to fall asleep, the fatigue of the day-long hike making her snore softly as soon as her head hits the pillow. You envy her, as for the second night in a row you really don’t feel like sleeping. 

You toss and turn, kicking the sheets off of you and changing positions every few minutes, until you decide that you’re done with it. If you’re not going to be asleep, then you might as well stay awake and do the only thing that will make you feel a little less claustrophobic: taking a walk. 

Sure, you and Robin have never been the rule-breaker types, at least not before the bonfire night you shared with the others - but it’s not the first time you’ve taken a night stroll at camp, alone or with Robin’s company. And that’s because, for some obscure reason, it doesn’t really count as breaking the rules to you. 

And, as soon as you carefully close the door of your cabin behind you and step foot into the dark, you remember why: the mix of fresh air, owls’ hooting and soft moonlight feels too good and liberating to be something forbidden. It’s thrilling, sure, but it’s also very calming. 

And it’s not like you’re going to go on a whole hike anyways: the few times you’ve done this before, you usually walked up to the lake, lingered on the shores for a while and came right back after no more than 30 minutes. And you plan to do exactly the same now: taking just a moment to clear your head and forget all about Jason and his threats. 

As you get closer to the shore of the lake, however, you notice something dark moving against the watery reflection of the moon: someone’s there already - and, apparently, they’re not that worried about being found out. 

“Fuck, shit” the person swears a little too loudly. After you unconsciously let out a sigh of relief as you recognize that the high-pitched voice belongs to Eddie, your heart starts beating a little faster. 

He’s just taken a quick step back from the lake, and you wonder if maybe you should avoid him, turn on your heels and head back to your cabin and Robin’s familiar and weirdly comforting snoring in order to avoid difficult topics; but you’re there, and he’s there, and before you know it the wet pebbles of the shore are creaking under your shoes. 

“Hey, there” you softly call out, trying not to startle him; his head snaps around anyways, and in the moonlight you see relief washing over his features as soon as he recognizes you. 

“Jesus Christ, y/n, don’t sneak up on me like that” Eddie loudly whispers, reaching down to the ground to grab a thin, white object that’s fallen from his hands - a cigarette, it looks like.  As he gets back up, though, a fond smile has appeared on his lips. “You almost gave me a fucking heart attack”. 

He looks beautiful in the silver aura of the summer night. His wavy, dark hair almost perfectly matches the color of the sky, and the glistening light in his eyes reminds you of the moon reflected in Lovers Lake - minus the few, scattered clouds. He looks at ease in his black t-shirt, adorned with some unreadable metal band name, and his long, checkered pajama pants, from which his beaten-up Reeboks peek out with their large white tab. 

You smile back, taking a few steps until you’re standing beside him, facing the calm waters of the lake. “I’m sorry” you apologetically say, turning to look up at him, “but you scared me first, you know - swearing that loud in the middle of the night”. 

“Oooh, I see” Eddie replies, “then I must offer you my deepest apologies as well” he formally adds, performing a crooked but funny curtsy. 

“Apologies accepted” you nod, as your eyes settle back on the glittering lake. After a few seconds, filled with the chirping of crickets and the soft splashing of a few slow waves, you speak again.

“What was that even for?” You ask, “The swearing I mean. And what are you doing out so late?”

Eddie looks down on you, and now that you’re standing side by side you realize how tall he actually is. 

“I could ask you the same thing, young lady” he states, his eyebrows raised in a mockingly offended look - but the smile never leaves him. 

“Touché” you reply with an amused roll of your eyes, “I couldn’t sleep, and needed some fresh air. Happy?”

Eddie nods slowly, his smirk turning upside down with satisfaction. “Okay, I see. Sounds honorable enough” he says, earning a not-so-gentle nudge in his side, which he pretends to ignore. “Me, I was about to light this sucker up” he then adds, waving the cigarette in front of you between his index and middle finger. Seeing it up close, you realize that it’s actually a joint. “But I, uh… saw something. I mean, I think it was a rat, maybe? But it was weird”. 

You tilt your head with confusion. “Weird in what way?”

Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know, it looked… big. Fat, like it was about to explode, and it made a strange growling noise” he explains, shaking his head. “But I don’t know, it went by too quickly and it was way too dark to see shit sooooo maybe it was nothing but a good old regular mouse”. 

Just as you’re about to reply, something in the corner of your eyes moves fast across the shore, towards the canoes and the pier. 

“Shit, that’s it” Eddie hisses, grabbing your shoulder to make you turn around as he points somewhere in the dark. “Did you see it?”

You narrow your eyes, but it doesn’t help much. “I think I did, yeah” you tentatively reply, taking a few steps towards the pier. 

“Wait, y/n” Eddie says, rushing to your side, his unlit blunt forgotten in his hand, “what are you doing?”

“Looking for it” you briefly state, cautiously moving closer to one of the canoes. 

Eddie mutters a low “shit” under his breath before gently putting his arm in front of you from the side, moving you behind him. 

“Let me go first” he states, and as he closes the distance between you and the boat he briefly nudges the wooden hull with his foot. 

Nothing moves. 

“Uhm” you mumble, closing the distance between you and Eddie, “it doesn’t look like it’s there”. 

Eddie sighs. “Well, too bad. Maybe next time” he says, but you catch the relief in his voice. “I wasn’t in the mood for a fight with a super-rat”. 

You chuckle, amused at the surreal idea of him confronting a child-sized mouse with bare hands. 

“We’ll see how much you’ll laugh next time you’ll encounter one of those, sweetheart” Eddie warns you with a smirk, “don’t come calling for me then”.

You scoff and step on the pier, admiring the night sky above you and the millions of glittering stars scattered like grains of sugar on a chocolate cookie.

“So” Eddie says, as he follows you, his steps creaking on the damp wood, “would you like some? We could share”.

You turn towards him to find him closer than you expected - if you were to lift your arm, it would land on his chest in the blink of an eye.

“You mean… smoke together?” You ask, nodding at the joint that he’s displaying between the two of you, held right among the tips of his fingers. You’ve smoked before, just a puff or two, but doing it with Eddie somehow seems like it would be a whole other experience. “What if we get caught?”

With an exaggeratedly suspicious flick of his eyebrows, Eddie takes a look around, his curls bouncing on his cheeks as he turns left and right. “Nope” he concludes after a beat, the white of his teeth shining in the moonlight as he victoriously grins, “no one’s around to catch us, I checked. But” he’s quick to add, nodding towards the canoes to the left of the pier, “we could get on one of these. Just to be sure”.

You shake your head, smirking. “Are you really suggesting that we steal a canoe to go smoke weed in the middle of Lovers Lake?” 

Eddie shrugs. “Come on, y/n, it’s not stealing! We’re staying on the property and being responsible. Don’t want to give a bad example to any camper walking by for his nightly bathroom visit, do we?”

You look at him, considering his proposal.

While you think, you notice how the weight of all the insecurities and fear you’ve carried throughout the day has been magically lifted off your chest the moment you and Eddie started talking. With him, you almost feel like someone else - someone better. That’s why you end up nodding, your eyes up to meet his. 

“Okay, Munson” you state, “let’s be responsible, then”

“That’s my girl” Eddie replies, his slightly unhinged smile still beaming as he knees down to hop on the canoe closer to the pier. Once he’s in, he straightens back up and extends an arm towards you, palm up as he offers you his hand.

“Princess, your carriage awaits you”.

“Thank you, kind sir” you reply with a giggle, taking his hand and following him down on the boat - whose hull suddenly and dangerously sways as you step into it. 

“Woah there” Eddie exclaims, his hands rushing to hold your waist as he tries to stabilize the both of you and stop the canoe from rocking. Thankfully, it doesn’t take much to make it stay still again - but you can’t say the same about your heart, as the strength of Eddie’s grip and the safety of his body next to you make it beat fast and hard against your chest.

“Off to a great start, I see” you mumble as you carefully lower yourself into the narrow seat, Eddie doing the same in front of you. 

“Don’t lose your hope just yet, sweetheart” he replies as he grabs the oars and starts rowing towards the center of the lake. 

On any other night, the darkness and depth of the water would creep you out a little bit, but it’s not the case now. The silence and calmness of the lake, together with Eddie’s presence, feel like a safe space - and, for the first time in the last few hours, you feel your body finally relaxing. 

“So” you say, watching Eddie fish for a lighter in the pocket of his pants and placing the blunt between his lips, “how are you enjoying camp so far?”

Eddie looks at you, one hand cupped around the cigarette as he tries to light it up with the other. “Not really my cup of tea, if I have to be honest” he says, dropping the lighter back into his pocket and sinking down in his seat as he takes a long drag. “Not a fan of little kids, or of seeing people that I tend to avoid at school, but it has its upsides. Like campfires” he adds, pondering with his eyes to the sky, “or movie nights. Or smoking weed in the middle of a lake”.

You scoff. “Come on, Eddie, don’t lie to me like that”

Eddie’s gaze shoots back at you, slightly clouded by something like worry.

“I’m not lying, y/n” he says, eagerly, “I really do like… this”

You blush, willingly ignoring whatever meaning you wish you could attach to his words. “I meant about the kids” you explain, accepting the blunt he’s passing to you. Your fingers brush for a moment, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “I remember the way you talked to Tim during the hike” you continue, “and the little girl you gave a high five to. Plus, you have quite the reputation for recruiting all the stray teenagers in school for Hellfire - so don’t tell me you don’t like kids, because that is impossible”.

Eddie sighs in defeat. “Alright, maybe I’m not such a hater of those little sheep” he concedes, the ghost of a smile already on his lips, “but I can assure you that I was telling the truth about the rest”.

You study him across the boat, smoke curling up in the dark as you puff it out. “About the upsides” you tentatively say, handing the joint back, “and the people you want to avoid”.

Eddie frowns, his smile turning slightly sour. “Yeah. Which, apparently, seem to be the same people that you try to avoid, too. And with little success, I might add” he replies, his eyes now softly set on yours. 

You look away, suddenly shy. “You’re right, I guess, but what can I say? Great minds are vexed alike” you admit before falling silent. 

“You know” Eddie speaks again after a while, “you don’t have to face it all on your own. You have friends that can and want to help you - I’ve seen that Buckley girl worry about you more times than I can count in less than a few weeks. And I would… I mean, if you ever needed someone, I’m here too. I’m not Buckley, or even Harrington, I know, but I saw the way Patrick was all over you, that day behind the kitchen, and how that shithead Carver keeps picking on you for no reason and, I -” he suddenly stops, and if it was any less dark you’d see the redness in his cheeks. “I mean, if they do that again, you can feel free to talk to me, okay? And I’ll think of something. I mean... yeah. If you need me, I’m right here”. 

Maybe it’s the weed doing its job, but you’re left speechless at the number of things Eddie’s just said to you. As you stare at him, mouth agape in surprise as you try to take it all in, you don’t even know what to reply. 

“Eddie, I... thank you” you finally end up saying, making the boat sway lightly as you shift a little bit closer to him. “I really appreciate it, but… You already have enough on your plate, so you really don’t need to worry about me, okay? Actually, I would like to help you if I could - I hate how Jason keeps spreading lies about you, and your friends, especially when he says stuff like…”

You stop right there, as you realize you’ve just come to a point of no return, the knot of anger and sadness where all your thoughts have been ending up in the last 24 hours. Eddie looks at you with a serene smile, releasing you of the burden before you know it. 

“You mean about the animal sacrifices, or the aggressions on poor innocent Christian girls? Yeah, I know aaaaall about that” he says with a scoff, leaning back in his seat. “He comes up with that shit every now and then. Actually, it’s been a while since I’ve heard him mention it, y’know. One day I might even confront him about that but… not today, I guess” he sighs, puffing out some smoke, “I’m not brave like you, y/n”.

You blink in surprise. “Brave? Me?”

Eddie gives you one of his upside-down smiles, which makes something in your chest twist and flutter. “Absolutely” he states, “the way you stood up to Jason in the cafeteria the first day? Wasn’t expecting that, for sure - and neither did he, from the looks of him”

“But you talked back at him, too” you protest.

“Yeah, but you did it first” Eddie insists, lifting one ringed finger up to further underline his point. “And how you were ready to defend little Tim, going straight to Mr. Smithson to help him? How you and Harrington stood up for me in front of Tammy Thompson? Yeah, Gareth and Jeff told me all about it” he adds as soon as you try to ask him how he knows. “I mean, I see a pattern here, sweetheart”.

The lake and the forest around you stand still in the silence of the night, watching how his soft gaze and the plain admiration in his eyes finally make you smile. “You know” you reply, taking your time, “I’m not sure if I’m actually brave when it comes to bullies, but if I am it’s actually because of my brother Dustin. He’s always been such a nice kid - a bit annoying and quirky at times, sure, like most boys his age” you say with nothing but affection, “but he’s so smart, and funny, and he and his friends have so many passions and super cool hobbies. Problem is, most of their schoolmates think that those passions and hobbies are… weird”.

Eddie nods understandingly. “Yeah, you’ve mentioned that they play D&D”.

“Yes, that. And they are obsessed with science, and radio frequencies, and god knows what else they do when they go out” you continue, “but sometimes this means that bullies target them, so I try to help them when I can. Like, even when one of them disappeared for a year, they kept calling him zombie boy when he got back - how can someone do that?”

“Woah” Eddie exclaims, leaning forwards to pass you the joint, “that’s a lot. I really hope those kids know how lucky they are to have someone like you standing up for them”.

"I bet they're more embarrassed than anything else" you shrug, dismissing his compliment with a smile and taking a long drag. "After all, I'm still the annoying big sister".

Eddie chuckles, and you stay silent for a while. Your focus shifts on the feeling of your legs touching Eddie's in the small space of the canoe's hull, and you take another drag before passing the joint back to him. By now your head is feeling a little lighter, which means that you don’t really think too much about what you’re saying next. 

“You’re brave too, you know?” You finally tell Eddie, “and I mean it. You stayed behind in the woods with a storm incoming just to see if someone got lost, for instance. And earlier, you didn’t think twice when you stepped in front of me when we were looking for the super-rat - and yes, I know what you’re about to say, so bear with me here” you interrupt him as he tries to protest. “Both of those might not have turned out to be real dangers - thankfully, I might add. But Jason, Tammy, their stupid friends, the people at school, the teachers and even the staff at camp, they are here and they are real, and in spite of it you’re still you.”

Eddie scratches his cheek, suddenly shy. You still go on.

“I mean, you’re not afraid to be yourself and not even I am brave enough to do that all the time. You are such a genuine person, so true to your passions and peculiarities and never wearing a stupid, socially commanded mask - even if you are one of the few people in Hawkins that could allow themselves to actually wear one from time to time, instead of letting others choose what to label you as. And I truly wish everyone else could see you and not those labels - see how funny, kind, creative and bright you are. And I know this because I see you. It’s not much, I know, but I do” you conclude, finally taking a breath. “I see you, Eddie Munson”.

You haven’t even realized it, but while you were speaking you and Eddie have shifted in your seats and gotten way closer to each other - so close, in fact, that you’ve unconsciously placed one of your hands on his thigh, a gesture of emphasis that he hasn’t taken lightly. Indeed, together with your unexpected words, your touch is making Eddie’s skin tingle and heart beat faster. So, there’s really nothing else he can do, now - with his eyes lost into yours, pupils dilated way more than weed would make them, he just has to touch you back. 

In the silence that follows your speech, Eddie lifts up one shy, slightly trembling hand and brushes a lock of your hair away from your cheek, tucking it behind your ear. His fingers linger there for a second, in that soft spot underneath your lobe, before making their way to your cheek - leaving a trail of heartbeats and shivers as his heavy rings graze your skin, his palm finally cupping your face and bringing it closer to him. 

You feel like it’s all happening in slow motion. It’s true, what you said: you do see him. You see the deep pools of dark brown in his eyes, and you could swear that you can count more stars in there than up in the sky; under his messy fringe, you see the light wrinkle between his eyebrows, a little straight line of collected courage and concentration; you see the constellations of each and every mole and freckle on his nose and cheekbones; you see his lips, perfectly drawn and silently calling you, begging you to follow his lead and meet him halfway. 

Just for half a second, a voice in your head warns you: if you cross this line, you can get hurt again. But it’s surprisingly easy to make it shut up, because right there and right then you know that Eddie would never, ever hurt you. 

So, you let go - your eyes flutter closed, your mind gets lost in the intoxicating smell of weed mixed with Eddie’s scent, your weight shifts just a little too fast, and then the boat tilts and with a loud splash you find yourself underwater. 

Confused and surprised, you feel lost in the dark cold waters of Lovers Lake - but, thankfully, your body has the right instinct and with a kick of your legs you’re back on the surface in the blink of an eye. 

“Eddie?” You call out, worry clouding your thoughts as he’s apparently nowhere to be seen.

You look around and your heart skips a beat as he emerges with a loud sputtering, wet dark hair flying everywhere. 

“I’m here” he exclaims, taking a few strokes towards you, “what the hell happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine” you reply, finally getting a glimpse of clarity once you see the upside-down boat next to you. “I think we moved too fast and the canoe tilted”.

“Shit” Eddie plainly says in disbelief, “let me try to turn it so we can go back. Hold tight for a second, okay?”

Surprisingly, it doesn’t take him long to turn the canoe around and climb his way in. Once he’s safe in the hull, he offers you his arm and with a little bit of struggling he helps you up. 

“Jesus, you’re shivering” he softly observes as you land on his chest after throwing yourself into the boat. 

You realize that he’s right: the water wasn’t that freezing, but the night breeze blowing on your cold, wet limbs is making you tremble from head to toe. Just as Eddie’s doing. 

“You too” you reply in a whisper, your energy too focused on trying to stay still.

“Okay, come here” he says, pulling you towards him with your back against his chest as he grabs the oars and starts rowing back to the shore. “We’ll keep each other warm. It won’t take much, I promise”.

It works. Eddie’s body warms up with the movement of his arms, and it makes you feel a little better - a lot better, actually. As you hug your knees close, you can feel his surprisingly strong muscles move and tense beneath you, his chest rising and falling as he breathes, and the loud thumping of his heart. You wonder if it’s beating that fast because of the physical effort of rowing or if he’s still thinking about those few seconds that preceded your ridiculous and frankly annoying fall into the lake - because, honestly, you keep replaying them in your head over and over again, the tormenting feeling of his lips almost grazing yours in the dark still lingering in the air.

It’s such a breathtaking thought that you ask yourself if maybe you’ve imagined it, or misunderstood it - but you don’t have time to give yourself an answer, as the soft thump of the canoe against the shore announces that you’re back on solid ground.

Still shivering a little, you and Eddie climb out of the boat and onto the pier. Now that the unexpected dive has sobered you up, you’re feeling slightly awkward and you have no idea what to say to break the tension that is clearly building up as you both start making your way back to the cabins. It’s Eddie who speaks first, though.

“So, uhm, make sure you put some warm clothes on as soon as you get in, okay?” He timidly says, clearly trying to come up with something that isn’t an embarrassed silence.

“Alright, mom” you chuckle, finding his effort actually kind of sweet. 

Eddie rolls his eyes with a smirk, shoving you gently with his elbow. “Come on, y/n - as I told you already, I’m just trying to be a responsible adult”. 

“Yeah, after corrupting me into smoking weed and stealing a boat? Very responsible” you reply, earning a theatrically offended glare. 

“I told you, it was not stealing” Eddie remarks, trying to stay serious and miserably failing, “and you accepted straight away”. 

“Fair enough” you sigh in defeat. You’ve reached Eddie’s cabin now, and even if you’d love to spend way more time with him, you really want to get changed.

“So, be responsible and warm yourself up, Munson” you tell him, very difficultly taking a step back, “Good night”.

“You too, y/n” he replies, but as you move to turn around and head back to your cabin, he calls out to you. “Wait a second, I forgot to tell you something”

Hope fills your heart like a little balloon in your chest as you look back at him.

“I, uh…” Eddie stutters, “I mean, my band and I, we have a gig this weekend. At the Hideout, 10 pm sharp. It’s not far from here, like 20 minutes by car, so Jeff, Gareth and I will sneak out after lights out and our bassist, Grant, will pick us up. I know I am really living up to the Munson’s name, corrupting you and all, but uhm… would you like to come see us?”

You weren’t expecting that, but the balloon doesn’t deflate. “I’d love to see the infamous Corroded Coffin playing live” you reply with a smile, immediately matched by Eddie. “The thing is, only Steve has a car, so…”

Eddie nods quickly. “Yeah, sure, of course, you can bring Harrington if you want… ask Buckley, too. We’ll have fun”.

“Okay” you nod too, your smile now turned into a full grin. “Cool. I’ll see you tomorrow, then”.

“See you tomorrow, princess”.

— 🏕 —

Hope you enjoyed this chapter :) Feedback is always welcome!

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[thephantomofthe-internet]

Read into Me Chapter 11: Love Story

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Words: 4,771

Warnings: fire, injury-all end of season three things!

Author’s Note: Happy belated Strangers Things 3 Day! I wanted to get this up yesterday, but I didn’t have it in me to work. This is the end of the series, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! It was a fun little ride!

Series Tag: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @herre-gud-nej @clockworkballerina @maddie1504 @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary @jisungiesluv @wildcvltre @stanleyyelnatsiii @n3wtscaseofniffler5 @peterparxour @linkispink1995 @a-big-ball-of-idk @used-avocado @mochminnie @sledgy14 @the-creative-lie @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @ggclarissa @voidnarnia @anonymousonion33 @awkwardnesshabitat @darkcrystal-wolf @hannahrisacher

Paris was a lonely city. You’d arrived alone, having not seen Steve since prom and still desperate to see him one more time. You’d selfishly kept his sweatshirt, wanting a piece of him to take with you to a different country. Your mother hadn’t picked you up from the airport, having sent a car instead. She didn’t seem much interested in speaking to you after months apart; she was much more interested in redecorating her new condo and talking about her fiancé. You met him, a French fop named Jean-Pierre at least fifteen years her junior. He was nice enough, although a bit fruity for your liking. His interests were more on the modeling jobs your mother was getting him. She had no time for you, which was fine since your lessons at the salon began immediately.

You and thirty-five other young hopefuls spend your days locked in a studio with abundant resources and endless models and objects to sketch. And you hated it. You hated the long, rambling lectures from the artists who came to the salon to preach the values of the school and the importance of French art. They alternated between speaking in French and English without explaining themselves as they switched tongues. Your French language skills were nonexistent, so the lectures were exhausting and endless. The only time they ever seemed to help was when they brought you all to the Louvre to examining the long dead French men who’d made the museum possible. There, you could at least sketch out the greats and enjoy the beauty of the art. Inside the studio, you felt as though your head was going to explode. The lectures spoke too loudly and loomed over you without warning or word, you weren’t allowed your headset or Walkman in the studio to combat them, and the smell of various paints and clays made your stomach churn. The girl who’d taken up the easel next to you, a little German named Lisle, had taken to making clay pots and sculptures and the sound of her pottery wheel mixed with her incessant humming made you want to commit manslaughter. It didn’t help that the smell of the brown clay invaded your sinuses and made you sneeze violently. You dreaded the salon. But you dreaded being at home more.

Your mother had hired you a French tutor, utterly horrified by the fact that you hadn’t been practising. You tried to tell her that, despite her assumptions, Hawkins High had stopped offering a French elective two years before you started there.

“You cannot live in Paris without speaking French! It won’t do!” she moaned. Jean-Pierre was already on the phone, speaking fast into the receiver. You didn’t see what the big deal was. Everywhere you went, people spoke enough English to communicate with you fine. It didn’t occur to you till after dinner that if you were to study in the country, you’d need the language to understand your lessons.

So you got a French teacher, a short tempered older man who insisted on being called Monsieur Bérnard. His greying whiskers moved sharply as he spoke and he often spit on you as he taught proper pronunciation and conjugation. He ranted and raved all afternoon, disgusted by your apparent lack of an ear for languages and your doodling on the edges of notebook paper instead of working. You’d go from sensory overload in the salon to being bullied by a Freud-looking asshole each day with no room for a break or a breath.

You lived for weekends. Rest was very well thought of in the city so the hell spawn tutor didn’t work and the salon locked its doors. You were allowed to wander the city at your leisure, your mother glad to have you out of the apartment. You’d spend most of your days sat at a café near the Eifel Tower, a prime spot to tourists. Every day, you’d bring your sketchpad and try to draw out the profiles of those you passed you by. You spent two weekends working on a sketch of people sunbathing on the lawn in front of the tower. But it seemed you left all your talent in Hawkins. You’d spent so long drawing familiar faces back home, now that you were away from your nest, you found yourself without the skill to capture the faces around you. It occurred to you that you knew the faces of Hawkins far too well. They were engrained in your mind, your hand working like a stamp to put them on the page. France was full of strangers. You didn’t know how to understand them like you understood Hawkins. France wasn’t home. You couldn’t work out in a world of strangers.

You couldn’t work in the salon either. It was too much. Everyone was constantly showboating and trying out-do one another. You couldn’t work with people spying over your shoulder. You felt judged and insecure about what you could do. You didn’t want to be watched as you tried to make art. It didn’t help that you had no idea what to make. The closest thing you’d gotten done is that sketch of the Eifel Tower and that wasn’t something you couldn’t buy on the streets around the monument. You’d tried all the things that you couldn’t in your bedroom-paint splatter art, pottery, carving, paint pulling, mosaics. You never finished anything. The drive to push through wasn’t there.

When the loneliness and fear became too much to bear, you held Steve’s sweatshirt and cried. It still smelt like him; Irish Springs soap and Fabregè Organics shampoo and hairspray and a bit like sweat. It was nice though. You missed him. You tried to write him letters, but you knew that they wouldn’t get home before you did. You’d made up your mind that whatever the answer was, you were going home. Whether that meant deferring a semester or missing the first week of school you would go back to Hawkins. Still, you’d written over a dozen letters, all crumpled in your waste bin.

You waited until the last minute to finish something for submission. You’d tried to sketch your mother, to find who you knew in the fancy woman in front of you. With her bleached blowout and designer clothes, thirty pounds lighter and yellow gold jewellery glinting in the midday sun. She looked like the epitome of elegance, straight out of a magazine. The woman you remembered had greying roots and love handles, her only jewellery the wedding rings your father had given her. Europe had changed her into someone who you didn’t know and who didn’t seem to want to introduce herself to you. Nothing you drew seemed to capture the middle between who she was and who she is now. You realized in her profile that you weren’t a part of her life anymore, that she didn’t want you there. You were as strange to her as she was to you. You passed each other like ghosts in the hall, almost recognizable but hauntingly foreign.

The day before your final piece for submission was due; you got a letter from Steve. It only had one sentence.

“I should have asked you to stay.”

It was all you needed to hear to be inspired. You made your final project a tribute to him, mixing memories with unfinished letters building into his face. You used plain black ink to sketch his profile on the surface of the mess, building him into your loneliness. You only had your memory to recreate his face and your own letters to fill the canvas. Still, it was the only thing you’d done the whole time you were in the country that you were actually proud of. You didn’t finish it until the sun rose and you handed it off to be judged without a second thought, bleary eyed and exhausted.

You were on a plane home by the wee hours of July 4th.

Hawkins was a depressing place. After graduation, Steve found himself listless and at the hands of his father. He was a failure, a disgrace of a son. He was unready to start into the family business. His grades were pathetic. He had to get a job. Of course, with no job experience and late to the game, no decent place wanted him. The new mall only offered him one place of employment, Scoops Ahoy. And the uniform was embarrassing. Stupid sailor shirts and matching shorts, fucking knee socks and a corny paper hat. He looked like a certified geek. And his co-worker was a freak. Robin fucking Buckley did nothing but bug him all shift. It didn’t help that he had no friends without you, even Dustin had left for some nerdy science camp after the school year ended.

He was alone and lonely.

He tried to write you a half dozen times. But nothing seemed to make sense, nothing was worth telling you. What was he supposed to tell you? That he had become an even bigger loser overnight? He felt so utterly pathetic. He just wanted things to go back to the way things were. But what did that even looked like anymore? It wasn’t a life with Nancy, she’d dumped his ass, and it wasn’t a life with you, you’d left him for a different continent. He didn’t have a clue where he was going anymore. So he did what any lonely, practically friendless teenager did-he worked his ass off. Eight hours every day in the mall with smart ass Robin Buckley, waiting for the ground to suck him up. And sure, he tried to hit on the girls his age that came around. It was a good distraction from his broken heart. He’d made up his mind that he was ready to move on and try to date again. That he needed a girlfriend. That he needed to be cool again.

And then, Dustin came back and Hawkins started acting up again. He thought it was over. Those damn dogs were gone, the thing was closed, the kid was safe and acting like a kid. Everything had gone back to as close to normal as he’d seen it in awhile. But Dustin just had to find a secret code and Buckley just had to decode it and Lucas’s bitchy little sister just had to be small enough to fit into the vents and find a secret Russian elevator. And they just had to get stuck in it.

He couldn’t keep that damn kid from seeking out trouble. And yeah, it was kind of fun in a scared shitless kind of way, but it wasn’t worth getting drugged and beaten up and nearly dying for. And it certainly wasn’t worth getting tricked into thinking that he had feelings for fucking Robin. He could murder that kid for getting it in his head that he liked that girl. Robin was cool; he wouldn’t pretend that she wasn’t a decent friend to have at the end of the world. But he didn’t need the embarrassment of trying to ask out a lesbian. At least the reason for her rejecting him wasn’t that he was unattractive or lame, just that she didn’t dig dudes. He was cool with that. And at least he got to punch out a communist. If he could tell his father that without going to prison or being murdered by a Russian goon, he’d be proud. Fuck that, he was proud. He won a fight! He beat up a Russian spy! More than one, he beat some up while drugged out; at least he thought he did. He couldn’t remember much, other than watching Back to the Future with Robin. That movie was too confusing. And then he stole a car, he saved Nancy’s life, he set up that weird tower thing for Dustin-there was too much going on to even recognize how crazy he sounded. How crazy all of this sounded.

And then, the mall was on fire.

Your flight landed on the fourth of July at about ten fifteen in the evening. It took about forty-five minutes to get from the Indianapolis International Airport back to Hawkins. You were buzzing. Seven words had given you all the hope you needed to push you back to the states. Every fibre of your being was alive with energy, with excitement. You couldn’t wait for your grandfather to park the car, you jumped out as soon as you were settled in the driveway.

“Don’t you want to go upstairs and unpack?” your grandmother called after you as you booked it down the driveway.

You turned back “No, I’ll be back later!” you called. Steve’s car wasn’t in the driveway but you figured if anyone was home they’d know where he was. You bounded up the stairs, ringing the doorbell twice.

Mrs. Harrington came to the door in her bathrobe. “Oh, hello there…” she trailed off, obviously unable to remember your name.

“Y/N, hi it’s nice to see you, do you know where Steve is?” you asked, bouncing from your heels to your toes.

Mrs. Harrington narrowed her eyes “He’s at his job I assume. At the mall.” She said slowly.

“What mall?” you demanded. Mrs. Harrington’s eyes blew wide open and you realized that you were probably coming off like an insane person. “Sorry, I’ve been out of the country for about a month.”

“It’s where the Hawkins Laboratories were, off East Wood Road.” She pointed out the door towards the roads. You knew instantly that the fastest way to get there was through the woods. You ran through the backyards of your neighbours and into the woods. You didn’t like the Hawkins forests. They were dark and dim and poorly maintained. The county hadn’t been out to cut down potentially problematic trees on the few hiking paths in the woods.  Burs caught your socks and twigs scratched your legs as you hopped logs to try to get there faster. They’d carved a road through the woods, you’d found it halfway to the mall, deserted and blocked off. You could see the bright orange flames from a mile away.

Your heart stopped dead in your chest. Steve was in there. You could cry.

Instead, you hopped the blockade, running down the road despite the calls of passing fire trucks and police. You didn’t care if they tried to arrest you, although you doubted that they could. It would be a waste of time to bother with you during an emergency.

The parking lot was filled with emergency vehicles. Massive streams of water were attacking the building. Luckily, it seemed the mall was closed, judging by the few people who were milling around not in uniforms. You sprinted into the crowd, looking around frantically.

Steve had been ushered into the back of an ambulance and draped in a bright orange emergency blanket. It wasn’t that cold but he felt as though he was freezing. The EMTs had checked his vitals and disinfected the wounds on his face and knees. As for the remaining drugs in his system, he chose not to mention them. He knew that the high would wear off eventually. Robin was sat next to him, equally bandaged up and silent, save an uncontrollable shiver. Wordlessly, Steve took the blanket off his shoulders and placed it over hers. He wasn’t that cold. Moreover, he just felt numb. He’d had this happen so many times; his face beat in, an otherworldly thing trying to destroy his life and hurt his family, a major building destroyed-it all felt familiar. It made him sick to his stomach to know that it was familiar. If he had anything left in his stomach he would’ve thrown up.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something running towards him. At first, he tensed. He didn’t know what it was and it could probably kill him. His heart stopped and then raced wildly. He held out an arm to protect Robin and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Steve!” you cried. He was in an ambulance. He was hurt. He was alive. You felt as if you could cry. In the span of fifteen minutes he’d gone from working to escaping a fiery building to missing in a fire to simply hurt. And hurt was just fine, you could handle hurt.

“Oh my god Steve, are you okay? Are you alright? I love you so much…”You grabbed his face, examining the bruises. You pulled him tightly to your chest, trying not to cry or freak out. You knew it wouldn’t help.

“I love you too…” he breathed into your ear, pulling you close to him. He recognized you by the smell of your hair, the feeling of your arms around him. He could cry. He didn’t believe you were real. But when you pulled away and his hand came to your face. You were real. And you were here. And he was safe. He was safe and alive. Feelings of relief rushed through his body. He wanted to cry, but the shock was too overwhelming for a tear to even drop.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper and hoarser than he’d ever felt it. “I thought you were still in Paris.”

“I came home early,” you chuckled, pressing a kiss to his jaw bone. “I didn’t get in.” That was the nicer version, the judges laughed at your final piece, they called it pedestrian. You should’ve been more upset, your mother was furious, but you couldn’t have cared less. You were free to go home. You could’ve thanked them for rejecting you.

Steve pulled away, looking you squarely in the eye. He wouldn’t have you give up on school to hang out with him in bum fuck Indiana. But you were telling the truth, it was written plainly all over your face. “Those bastards…” Steve murmured. You laughed, your eyes watery and throat thick. You were overwhelmed. You expected to come home and just see him in his element. You expected him to not necessarily want to see you. You didn’t expect a fire or Steve being injured or Steve to even be there at all. You pulled Steve back into your arms, you didn’t want to let go.

“I missed you so much…” you whispered. Steve’s arms came around your hips, pulling you in between his legs. He needed you here, to keep you in place for awhile.

“I missed you too…” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Did you get my letter?”

You looked up “Yeah I did…” you said “I wish I had written you, I tried so many times but I couldn’t find the words and-” Steve kissed you hard, stealing the words from his throat. He didn’t care if you didn’t write him back; this was the best thing he could’ve gotten from you. A letter wouldn’t do it justice.

You were lit up by his kiss. This is what you needed. No words could do the feelings he expressed in his kiss justice. You felt alive. You felt at home. Steve tried to pull away, but you pulled him back by his shirt, kissing him as if your life depended on it. Maybe it did. You couldn’t be sure anymore.

A loud clearing of one’s throat interrupted you and you pulled away to see Robin waving awkwardly. “Oh hey Buckley…” you muttered awkwardly. “How’s Samantha?”

“No clue, she never called me back.” The younger girl shrugged nonchalantly, hopping down from the ambulance deck. “I’ll catch ya later, Harrington.”

You turned your attention back to Steve, looking down at the material still in your fists. He looked ridiculous. “What the fuck are you wearing?” you asked with a laugh. Steve’s hands settled on your lower back, holding you in between his knees as if you’d run off if he didn’t.

“Oh this? This has been my whole summer.” He groaned “I’ve been captaining a boat on an ocean of flavours.” You couldn’t help but cackle, you had no idea what he was talking about but he seemed so serious.  

“And by that you mean?” you lifted the fake red neckerchief attached to his shirt, running the material between your thumb and forefinger.

“Ice cream store in the mall,” he pointed to the embroidered Scoops Ahoy logo on his breast.

“You’re kidding…” you shook your head as if to shake the idea out of your mind. Steve’s fingers trailed the raggedy edge of your sweatshirt. Well, his sweatshirt, his last name and basketball jersey number were embossed on the back; he could feel the textured design on your lower back.

“I like my sweater,” he chuckled, reaching up to adjust the length of the drawstrings on the hood. You looked away, a bit embarrassed.

“I didn’t mean to keep it I just…missed you,” You replied “You can have it back.”

“Nah, it suits you,” he smirked “Besides, I want my girl in my stuff, it’s cute.”

“Your girl?” you grinned giddily, elbowing him in the ribs. “Since when am I your girl?” You liked the idea of being Steve’s girl. It had a nice ring to it.

Steve smirked, squeezing your hips in his hands. “Oh come on baby, you’ve been my girl for awhile…”

“Oh really? Well, I wouldn’t know since you’ve never asked me…”

You heard a loud yell and turned to see a set of paramedics carrying a stretcher towards you and Steve. They were sprinting and bringing a badly burnt and unconscious Billy Hargrove towards the ambulance you sat on. You quickly moved out of the way. Steve grabbed your hand, allowing you to tug him from the ambulance’s deck.

You only got a brief look at the teenager, but it made your stomach churn violently. You felt ill. You felt Steve squeeze your hand. You turned to look at him and saw how hollow his eyes were. You wrapped your arm around his middle. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” you said, trying to stifle a yawn. You were exhausted from your flight and your run here and the trauma that had smacked you across the face.

Steve noticed anyway “Did you just get here?” he asked, lifting your chin.

“My flight landed at ten, I came to see you as soon as I could.”

“You should’ve gone home to rest, I wouldn’t have been mad at you.” You looked absolutely exhausted. He couldn’t imagine what he looked like.

“I missed you too much to not see you. And what if you had gotten hurt, if you hadn’t made it out then I would’ve never forgiven myself…”

Steve wrapped his arms tightly around you, shielding you from the scene, as more mangled people were brought out. The beast must’ve fallen apart once the brain was destroyed. It looked as though a bomb had gone off. Steve squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to leave, but he knew that the FBI would be called and he’d have to talk to them again. He wanted you to go home, but that didn’t seem like an option now.  Selfishly, he liked having you there, it was comforting to have you in his arms, squeezing him under his ribs and keeping him calm.

“I’m not gonna get hurt, I’m okay…we’re okay…” You nodded roughly against his chest. You felt as if you were burning up and freezing at the same time. You saw blinks of red flashing lights and sirens as one of the ambulances sped past. You were so thankful that he wasn’t on that ambulance.

“Yeah, I know, I’m not gonna let you out of my sight ever again.” Steve lifted up your chin, raising an eyebrow at you. “What? Last time I did you nearly died and for what? A shit job in the mall?”

“Well, not just for a job, I was helping Robin and a couple kids who were with us,” That wasn’t the whole story. Steve knew he’d have to tell you eventually about everything, but for now he was more than comfortable ignoring the looming problem beneath their feet.

“What a hero…” you giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Something had been bothering Steve for awhile now and he determined now was the best time to tackle the subject. He turned away from you, folding his hands in his lap.

“Did you mean it when you said that you loved me?” he asked quietly. Truthfully, he wasn’t certain that you meant it. Or if he had even heard you correctly. After Nancy, he wasn’t sure if anyone actually loved him back. He’d given so much of his heart away only to have it tossed to the floor and tread upon like it was nothing more than a cigarette butt. He wasn’t sure if he could trust that you meant it.

You let out a small sigh through your nose, crossing your arms over your chest. You were a bit embarrassed. You were half hoping that he would forget about it. Your response brought all of Steve’s hopes crashing down. “Yeah, yeah I do,” you admitted, rubbing your arms, having suddenly gone cold. “I will admit, I hadn’t planned on saying that this early, feels a bit middle school to say that you love someone before they’re even your boyfriend.”

Steve turned to look at you once again, a bit surprised. Your face had gone red, adorably red, but still very red and your gaze had turned down to the asphalt at your feet. He reached out and took your hand, interlacing your fingers with his. “Good,” he said with a smile. You turned up to look at him; brow furrowed “I thought I had like imagined it.”

“Oh…no you’re good.” You said slowly. He looked like a little puppy dog, his whole face was radiating sunshine; it was almost hard to look at. It was harder to not match his energy, to get drunk off it. Then again, no one was stopping you from just enjoying the moment. You let out a small breath, not so much heavy with sadness or regret, but simply exhaustion. You let your head rest on his shoulder, smiling softly despite the scene in front of you. If it weren’t for the smouldering building and the emergency vehicles surrounding the pair of you, it would almost be romantic. The fact that you were even trying to find romance in the scene felt a bit silly, but maybe that was what this was supposed to feel like. Finding love in a burning building was a bit dramatic, it certainly not what you’d expected for your life, but you determined that no matter what you’d keep Steve safe. You had no idea what was going on at this scene, you had no idea what happened. But no matter how scared you were, you knew that Steve must’ve been even more scared. You knew that you couldn’t protect him, the same way that he couldn’t protect you, but maybe together you could keep each other safe for awhile.

“I love you too, you know,” Steve said quietly, his gaze trailed on the smoke of grey smoke coming up off the extinguished fire. The front of the mall had crumbled and the giant neon ‘Star-Court Mall’ sign shattered on the pavement. You hadn’t seen the mall before the fire, you didn’t know what it was supposed to look like, but a cavernous jagged mouth probably wasn’t the design goal. Still, you turned your attention to the side of Steve’s face. He couldn’t face you, the tips of his ears bright red underneath his flat, sweaty hair.

You swallowed hard “I know,” you say softly. Steve turned to look at you, examining your face with a nervous expression. You smiled and nodded reassuringly “I know.” Steve smiled and laced his fingers with yours. He squeezed your hand tightly in his and you squeezed his back, the feeling of his hand squeezing yours the only feeling left in your body beyond the giddy buzz. You didn’t know how any of this worked, you didn’t know if you were doing this right, if there was a right way to do it. The buzz under your skin was two parts anxiety and one part excitement. But you didn’t pull away. You were glued to his side.

“You know, I think that was one of the first normal conversations we’ve ever had,” Steve mused.

You scoffed loudly rolling your eyes “That was not normal.

Steve shook his head with a small laugh “Yeah, I know…”