#one of my friends who I play with on a weekly basis gives me the simple sample explanation one on one a couple days beforehand

[infraredss]

absolutely fucked that i can't go into the hairdressers and just say "lesbian" and have them immediately understand what i want

[jasntodds]

Penace [5]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 13,401

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angst, some fluff, mentions of death, panic attack (jason), ptsd (jason), hurt/comfort, mention of scars

Summary: ❝Thesus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. Thesus: Stain them. I don’t care.❞

It’s been a month and a half since Crane’s reign of terror was stopped, leaving Gotham to finally return to normal. But, what is normal? After everything Jason and you have been through, it seems normal might be some unobtainable dream state. But that’s not going to stop either of you from trying and maybe, you’ll get lucky in the end. At the end of it, the two of you have suffered enough, right?

Right?

A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update!! I had a bunch of stuff going on last month and stuff happened and I just did not have the mental capacity to edit this chapter. I'm so sorry!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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The next morning rolls around leaving Jason to wake up first. You're still sound asleep facing him, some of your hair covering your face. Jason takes a tentative finger and moves some of the strands from your face. He takes this time to exist. Sleep always came easier when you were around. Less nightmares, not as much tossing and turning, no insomnia. It was always easier with you around and last night was no different.

You fell asleep first just as you usually did when he read to you. You were cuddled into his side and it felt like it always did for that half hour. Just the two of you in bed together with a book and enough trauma for the both of you. Jason thinks you're both really good at being able to exist in a moment as if nothing happened. There's something in you that allows you both to ignore it all even for a few minutes and just pretend to be who you were before instead of just skin and bones.

The world, people, expect you both to be something specific, to act a certain way. You told him once, in a sort of one-off conversation, you felt like people expected something different. At the tower, you always felt like the others expected you to remain quiet or be angry all the time, to snap at some point. Maybe you did. But, your blood was never filled with anger but grief for what you should have been able to have. When Jason died and you got angry, they expected the silence. They expected the grief to hit you like a train. They expected you to quit, get revenge on the Joker before Bruce did. They expected more than rage-filled blood and red-stained hands. And they expected you to move on because what else was there to do? He was dead. And you were alone. People put up expectations and in some ways you feel like you need to meet some of them. Be more careful, get angry, snap, pretend like it's all fine because it's always been fine. But, then you lay down with Jason and you can watch movies and talk about your mom and you can exist in a way that you want without the weight of expectations collapsing your lungs.

Everyone thinks Jason is angry, always has even before he died. He was never angry. He was upset and hurt and didn't know where to put it. He was never angry but everyone expected him to be so he played into it. They expected him to be some sort of fuck boy so he played into it. They expected him to be reckless and so he was. Maybe he was always a little reckless, no one forced him to rob the Batmobile or go with the red hoods when he was a teenager. But they expect it. And now...Jason can feel it. They expect him to lose his mind and until then, they expect him to be fine. He lived, right? Joker is dead, Bruce avenged his death, and he was brought back. He should be fine, right?

They expect him to be fine without ever considering the scars lingering on his chest or marking up his mind like scuffed up wood. But with you, there are no expectations. He is allowed to read and tell you about theater stuff. He is allowed to have nightmares and be scared. He is allowed to just be. When Jason is around you, he's allowed to exist in a way that he wants without the weight of expectations strangling the life out of him.

Maybe that's why you can exist in moments like these as if nothing ever happened. It is the only time neither of you are facing some false hope of expectations. It is the only time you both can be damaged in all your glory. It is the only time you're allowed to bear your scars with pride and show the beauty they've left behind. You can just...be.

He eyes you softly, brows pinched together and you look so peaceful. He wants nothing more than to pull you into him and sleep like this all day. But it is not his place. He's surprised you stayed in the first place let alone stayed in bed with him. He is so glad you did but there is so much you haven't talked about. So much happened and there's just so much between you. He wonders if you'll ever be able to recover or if this is all you'll be. Just a one-off sleepover sometimes.

He doesn't like that idea very much.

Jason forces himself to get out of bed and make his way to the training area where he keeps his fridge. He expects to be able to grab a few eggs and make an omelet, see what else he has and maybe he could make you (and Tim) pancakes. But, as he enters the room, Tim is seated at the table with a tablet open and his brows pinched together.

"Oh, hey." Tim chimes, offering Jason a wave and a glance before he looks back to the tablet. "I made toast and a pot of coffee." Tim explains.

Jason scratches his head before he shakes it and fully enters the room. "Right, yeah, okay." Jason clears his throat, trying to get rid of the sleep still etched in his tone. "Did you even fucking sleep?"

"Yeah, of course." Tim brushes the question, voice still chipper and a part of it reminds Jason of how Gar usually was at the tower. "Early riser."

"A roof fell on top of you last night." Jason states as he walks over to the coffee pot seeing about a quarter of a cup left. He lets out a sigh before he dumps the pot in the sink and starts a fresh pot.

"Oh, yeah but I'm fine." Tim shakes it off.

Jason can almost hear your voice in his head telling him to push for an answer. A roof fell on top of him and his boyfriend is in a coma. Jason does not buy for a single second that he's simply an early riser. No one is an early riser with this job, not if you want more than three hours of sleep a night. It would be responsible of him to ask Tim if he were okay.

"Seriously, you alright?" Jason asks as he leans against the table to face Tim.

Tim looks up at him and while he knew some of Jason before, this is different. The most of Jason he knows is actually Red Hood related. You didn't talk a lot about him when you hung out and he only spoke to Jason a handful of times, usually about his order at Excellent Gotham. There wasn't much said about Bruce Wayne's newest son. Instead, he knows Red Hood is ruthless, brutal, and scary. He is intimidating and will kill someone if need be. He knows Red Hood almost got his dad killed and almost got you killed and got Dick killed. His association with Crane got him killed. Tim knows Red Hood is someone he wants on his side because if he's not, that could be for the worst.

But, he's looking at Jason Todd who happens to be Red Hood and in this moment he doesn't feel like any of those things. He feels like he did when you introduced him. Normal. Calm. Nice. Tim knew there was more to Red Hood. Not only did he meet Jason and he trusts your general opinion of people, but Tim doesn't believe anyone is as two-dimensional as they may seem. Yet, some part of him almost feels surprised with Jason asking if he's okay but it doesn't feel like it's out of obligation. Instead, it feels like he might actually be genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine." Tim answers. "Just..." Tim lets out a breath. "Gar said they haven't made any progress with Bernard. And I'm here..." Tim trails off. "Almost getting crushed by a roof and getting trained by you and y/n."

Jason pushes off the table as the coffee pot dings. "You've only been here like two days." Jason states as he makes his way back over to the coffee. "How'd it happen?" Jason asks as he starts to pour himself a cup, making sure to leave enough for you.

"Some video game thing that Brother Blood released." Tim groans. "No one knows how to get anyone out of their comas."

"Look," Jason starts as he walks back over to Tim. "That fucking sucks, alright? But, you and the Titans will figure it out. You're a genius, man." Jason lets out this scoff that comes out as a chuckle. "The way I see it, all those people and Bernard are lucky to have you looking out for 'em."

"Yeah, except I suck at this." Tim lets out a groan, tilting his head back. "I mean, Dick was...incredible. He was so good at this whole thing and he still is. And then you took over and you were just as great." Tim pauses for a few seconds as Jason watches the defeat start to wash over his features. "How am I supposed to live up to that when I can't even get any intel on this guy? When I can't even figure out a damn video game?!"

"Didn't you choose to be Robin?" Jason asks.

"Yeah but y/n said—"

"I died as Robin." Jason cuts him off because it doesn't matter what you said or didn't say. Jason knows Tim is going to be great at this. "Don't take what she says to heart too much. Her viewpoint of Robin will always be tainted because I died. Because it involved Bruce. You chose this, man." Jason points a finger at him. "No one else is crazy enough to do that, not after me. But you did. That means something. Don't get in your head about it, alright? You're smart as fuck and you're capable."

"But what if I was wrong?" Tim asks knowing it takes a special kind of confidence to not only volunteer to be Robin following Dick and Jason but to have the confidence he could do it.

"Dick wouldn't have asked you to be Robin if he thought you were." Jason says it so simply. "We were trained by Bruce for months before we put on the mask and cape, just remember that." Jason states as he takes a sip of his coffee.

"Thank you." Tim offers a soft smile. "Didn't think you'd be the pep talk kind of guy."

"I'm not." Jason lets out a booming cackle. "So don't go telling people I am."

Tim lets out a soft laugh before he locks the tablet. "She still sleeping?" He decides not to push his luck and changes subject, surprised not to see Sam yet.

Jason nods softly. "Yeah, letting her sleep."

"She doesn't sleep a lot, that's what Gar said...that Molly said."

"Yeah..." Jason pulls in a breath as his heart starts to break. "Comes with the job sometimes." Jason only half-lies.

"She's sleeping now." Tim gains a cheeky smile.

"Shut up." Jason groans and he not getting into any of that with Tim. Nope. "Did you want something more than toast?" Jason immediately changes subject before Tim can try to return the pep talk favor for relationship advice. "Toast is a shit breakfast." Jason puts his Wonder Woman mug down before he gets up.

Tim offers a chuckle. "Uh...yeah, I could eat something else."

Jason looks through some cabinets and the fridge. "Omelet or pancakes?"

"Omelet?" Tim questions softly. "Didn't think I'd have an option." Tim did not thnk Jason could really cook, given the whole eggs, beer, and cheese comment.

"Was making both anyway." Jason retorts. He's just trying to be nice.

Tim lets out a laugh. "Oh, I get it."

"If you don't shut up, we won't train today." Jason almost wants to shut his head in the fridge door with his comment. Who the fuck is he? Dick? Gar? Ugh.

Meanwhile, you're finally stirring awake to an empty and cold bed. Your hand reaches over and you feel the spot where Jason was is cold. Your eyes peek open to see he's no longer there or even in the room. It's not that you should have expected him to be you think but there's a part of you that's still disappointed. Somewhere in your head you almost hoped you'd wake up together and you'd have one of your awkward realizations together. You'd stumble over yourselves and your words but it'd feel like home. It'd be warm and comfortable anyway. And then you'd find your footing where it almost felt safest, in the mix of bantering and flirting. But, he's gone. You're not sure that feeling is something you'd ever be able to get used to.

But, you get up anyway, stretching before you get out of bed. You grab one of Jason's hoodies from the table, tugging it over your head as you walk out of the room. You head to the room with the fridge that you're not sure you should really call a kitchen since there's all the training equipment in there, too. Why is he like this?

As you get closer, you hear Jason's laughter bouncing off the walls. Your heart skips a beat and you don't even notice the way the corners of your mouth perk up into a tender smile. You pause just to listen for a few seconds while his laughter subsides and he goes on with his story. He tells Tim some story about a fight with the Riddler and how mad he was. You've heard the story before but hearing him talk so casually and lightly about his Robin days makes you want to burst.

In the few times you've talked of Robin, there's been a sense of bitterness and sadness surrounding the mantle but now he's laughing and joking. He has stories that aren't tied with grief and pain. Robin always meant the entire world to him and you're so happy he seems to still have some of that joy telling the stories. You think maybe he is getting better. Maybe Leslie really is helping him again.

"Welcome back to the land of the living." Jason quips as you walk into the room.

You clear your throat sarcastically. "Get fucked."

Jason flips you off with a tender smile while Tim lets out a laugh.

"Guess I won't make you pancakes then." Jason shrugs dramatically and you know it's a hollow threat but it is also not a chance you're willing to take.

Your eyes narrow slightly before a smile comes to your lips again. "Do not get fucked."

Jason tilts his head and lets out a laugh. "Dunno, think it'll help?"

You shake your head. "You are a bit uptight."

"Look who's fucking talking." Jason waves the spatula at her.

"I am so not uptight." You laugh as you take a seat beside Tim.

"Well." Tim adds in with a shake of his head and the scrunch of his nose.

"The fuck does that mean, Tim?" Your eyes widen at him.

Tim's eyes widen slightly back at her before he quickly looks to Jason. He might help him with Robin but if he wants to go back and forth with you on this front, that's all him. Jason will let him sink. He knows exactly which side he should always be on and it's wherever you are.

"You're on your own." Jason chimes, waving a spatula in the air as he turns back to the stove, the first batch of pancakes already on the burner.

"Nothing." Tim shakes his head with a smile.

"Right." You laugh softly as you roll your eyes.

Jason walks over with a mug in hand. He hands it off to you and your brows quickly raise seeing it's your Supergirl mug from the manor. You packed and moved but forgot the mug. While things aren't...bad per se, between you and Bruce, you did not go back for anything you forgot and you almost laugh. You may not have gone back but clearly Jason at the very least took your mug, likely with the intention to give it to Molly to give to you.

"Thank you." You hold your mug up to him as he goes to walk away.

"You're welcome." Jason gives you a bright and cheeky smile.

"So, what're we going today?" You ask the boys while Jason finishes breakfast.

"I really got to find this Venta guy and get back." Tim states.

"Figure we'll eat, train a bit, then help Tim here try to get some intel." Jason explains, finishing the pancakes before he moves onto the omelets.

"Sounds good." You suck in a breath, pulling out your phone to send a quick text to Molly to let her know you're awake and what the plan is.

Jason finishes up your breakfast before joining you and Tim at the table with three plates in hand, a delicate balancing act on his way. Tim offers a quick thank you before digging in, the toast clearly not holding him over too well. You offer Jason a tender smile before you dig in. Your chest warms and your skin bursts with goosebumps knowing Jason made pancakes for you.

Jason offers such a specific type of subtle kindness that seems to be overlooked by a lot of people. It's not so much in his words which after all this time, you figured out it's just because he's not too good at expressing himself most of the time. For him, actions say everything that gets caught in his throat. And it's not just with you he does it with. Bruce preferred his omelet differently and Jason never even asked, he always just made an extra one with the things Bruce liked. Gar mentioned he was looking for a few Saga comics and Jason found them and shipped them to Titans tower just because he could. He always offers to help Molly with anything she's working on. He extends his kindness with actions just to display how much he cares about the people who offer him the same kindness.

You think it's one of your favorite things about him.

The three of you finish up your food and get changed for training. The three of you take your time stretching and getting ready to allow your food to settle a little. Training starts just as it did yesterday, Jason taking the first round and then you. Tim still doesn't stand a chance but you and Jason can already see some improvement the longer you train which comes as a big relief. 

After training, the three of you get suited up and head out, deciding to go to the marina this time. Tim rides with you, hoping to find something out tonight. He feels like he's running out of time. Meanwhile, you and Jason are looking to see how he does not in a training room with a safety net. A roof fell on him last night and he seems incredibly unbothered. To you, it only feels right to have him out on the streets anyway, even if it's under false pretenses. So, while you're "looking" for Venta or trying to get intel on him, you're also patrolling, showing Tim the ropes, teaching him the art of grappling between buildings. This is all just more training, making sure he'll be safe out there in the open without the security blanket of you and Jason or the Titans or being in one location. Jason and you think Tim will be just fine. He's smart and capable, he pays attention. This is not a game to him.

It matters.

It always mattered to Dick and Jason, too but it's different with Tim. Bruce offered Robin to Dick and Jason. They were his sons. Batman and Robin. They had months and months of training and while it was hard and brutal at times, there was something that felt magical about the whole thing. It felt surreal. With Tim, it's as if he feels he is obligated to fill the role. Unlike Dick and Jason, Tim chose it and there's somehow more pressure in that for him to prove himself. Tim is generally someone who can focus on things that are important and serious, but this is different. It is his life. It's the life of innocent people. He's having fun, sure, but he's taking it even more seriously than Jason and Dick ever did. It doesn't help he's trying to fill their shoes, something Jason does understand.

After hours of looking and patrolling, you don't turn anything up and head back to Jason's. Tim is incredibly disappointed by his inability to find anything out but you and you assure him that if Venta were in town or if anyone knew anything, they would have spilled with the two of you being around anyway. Between the three of you, someone would have told you some sort of information. You both remind him how easy it was to get information from the people you did question about other cases. Some people are harder but getting intel on one person rarely ever results in no answers. The reassurance does make Tim feel a little bit better about it.

While Tim is feeling a bit better and you're confident in his abilities, feeling pretty good actually, the case is not the same for Jason. Some days are just better than others and today is not one of those days. Waking up with you was refreshing but he's finding that to be the best part of his day because Tim put on the Robin suit. Jason isn't mad or bitter about it. It has nothing to do with it but something about it is causing him anxiety. Something about seeing Tim in the suit, or maybe just another rendition of the suit, makes him want to explode and run and cry and scream. He's been biting it down all day because it's his problem not Tim's. He hates it but something about it is pulling him back to Amusement Mile. Something about it is pulling him back to the anti-fear drug and Cran'e reign. Something about it is making him feel so small and useless. He thought he was making progress but you're back at his home and he's never felt so disconnected from everything. He thinks it's so dumb to feel upset and panicky over this.

He swears it's fine.

"I'm gonna shower." Jason clears his throat before excusing himself to head off to his bedroom as quickly as he can, trying not to raise any alarms.

Your eyes linger on the doorway. Jason might as well have run out of the door with how quickly he excused himself. You heard a slight tremble in his voice. It was sharper than usual and his steps weren't as light as they usually are.

"Is he okay?" Tim asks as he walks over to grab the suitcase for his suit.

You look back at Tim and nod once. During your patrol, you could tell something switched. Jason's been in a good mood and pretty casual about everything, generally speaking. Being in a good mood and things going well always seemed to poke a hole into his head a bit. And today, out there doing your thing, he was quieter, more focused. He's always focused but this was laserlike almost and you're supposed to be helping Tim. You'd make some sort of quip and all you'd get is a disguised chuckle from behind his helmet. If you know anything, it's knowing Jason Todd is in fact, not fine.

"Yeah, no I'm sure he's fine." You brush it off, figuring you'll check on him in a few minutes. "I kept him up pretty late so he's just tired, probably." You nod again, Tim not buying any of it.

"He was up before you were." Tim states as he walks back over to you with his case. "It's not my business, just..." Tim shrugs dramatically, showing genuine concern for Jason's well-being.

Your eyes go to your boots and then back to him. "Yeah, uh...yeah." You nod your head. "I'll check on him in a few minutes. I'm sure he's fine, Tim." You offer him a fake smile.

Jason's head is spinning while his arms are practically vibrating themselves from his body. His muscles are going so weak he can barely turn the water on for a shower. The air is thick and stale through his lungs, burning with every breath. His stomach twists and his eyes start to water despite his best efforts to stop it. The world around him starts to feel like it's closing in and suffocating the life from his lungs. The shower pelts the porcelain flooring, he swears he can hear you and Tim talking and walking from down the hall. His heartbeat is radiating through his ear canals and the passing cars sound like they might drive right through his new home. Everything is growing louder and louder and the thoughts start to kick in. They take a battering ram to the walls and that's when he can't even bear to stand anymore.

Jason carries the heartbreak of death on his shoulders and it is crushing every part of him.

Tim leaves you to go change and you follow his lead, heading for a bathroom. You take your time, giving Jason enough time to gather himself if he needs to before you go to check on him. And for a second, you almost even second-guess it. You haven't spoken in a month and a half, you're just now trying this whole friend thing, is it really your place? When Tim leaves, will you just go back to not talking with no obligation in the middle of you? What if you're wrong anyway? Maybe Jason has changed a little bit in this time and maybe he was just more focused because a roof fell on all of you yesterday. You run yourself in circles, not wanting to overstep and mind his space. Jason always liked his personal space, maybe a little too much but you don't want to intrude. You always felt like you were just intruding in people's lives, a mismatched puzzle piece trying to make yourself fit. It's not what you want to do to him.

Being around him was one of the only places you felt like you belonged. And Jason was the one that always made you feel that way.

You make your way to Jason's room once you're in your regular clothes because you can't bear not to check on him. He would do it for you and you know him. Despite it all, you're certain you always know when something isn't quite right with him. So, you make your way to his room and let yourself inside, shutting the door behind you.

You can hear the shower echoing from the en suite bathroom. The door is closed but you're relieved that he's in the shower and not losing his entire mind in his bed. You look around his room some more and you wonder what else he plans to do with it. You think it must feel more like a home than the manor did. Back at the Tower, he had some stuff on the walls that he picked up because the room was his. He graffitied the walls. It was his and it felt like his. But, the room in the manor still had a poster of the Flying Graysons. Jason didn't decorate the walls, something that always made you sad because it should have felt like a home to him. You never asked but you wondered why it didn't. It couldn't have just been Bruce because of how Jason views him. So, you wonder if it was because maybe he didn't think he deserved the manor or maybe it was that he felt like a replacement and someone else would come in to replace him anyway. Maybe it was a safety precaution for his own feelings of being left behind. You aren't sure but you hope this place feels like a home and he gets to decorate his walls.

The shower is still echoing through the door but you can hear the water clearly, no disturbance or movement. Your brows pull together as you make your way to the bathroom and knock softly. You don't get any answer and you don't hear any movement behind the door.

"Jay?" You ask as you knock louder this time. A lump forms in your throat while your heartbeat starts to spike. Your stomach burns and your teeth grit together. You remember the day on the roof. "Jason, are you okay?" You call again and don't get anything in response.

Your hand goes to the door handle and you pause for a second. And it's just a second before you open the door slowly. You carefully peek your head around the door, your eyes landing on the walk-in shower. The frosted glass door is open while water ricochets onto the white tile floor. And then there's Jason. He's seated, fully clothed in the shower, his knees are tugged to his chest while his arms are wrapped entirely around his shins. His head is buried in his knees and all you can do is shake your head in devastation.

You walk inside and close the distance between you. You keep your stance from outside of the shower, trying to mind his personal space.

"Jay?" You try again and you get nothing from him. It's as if he doesn't even register you in the room which might be one of the biggest red flags when it comes to Jason Todd. He is nothing but on guard.

You walk back to the door and shut it, just in case. Then you kick off your shoes and tug your hoodie off your head before you close the distance between you again. This time, you enter the shower, immediately getting pelted by warm water as you kneel down right in front of him.

"Jay, hey." You call his name again but this time, your hands are delicate and careful as you put them on his cheeks. He jumps immediately, head hooting up with eyes terrified and red. He looks panicked for just a few seconds until his brain catches up with what he's seeing. Your teeth grind together seeing the look of pain across his face. It's written in every line and feature you'd fallen so in love with over the last year. Your hands come to his cheeks again, just as tender as they were before and he doesn't even flinch this time. "What's going on?" You ask softly. Jason shakes his head against your hands and his eyes dodge yours and he feels embarrassed and exposed. Of course, you'd find him.

You always find him.

You always see him.

"It's you and me." Your voice is careful as your thumbs run over his skin. "I'm worried about you. What happened?" You brush the white streak of hair from his face.

"Loud." Jason's voice comes out hoarse and small and his bottom lip trembles. It takes every muscle in his body not to let out a sob.

"Okay." You nod your head once, the look of worry almost permanently etched into your features. If Jason had the strength, he'd push you away just to get you to stop worrying so much. He doesn't deserve it. You don't deserve it. "What happened?" You ask quietly, the water now completely soaking your hair.

Jason offers the weakest shrug you have ever seen. "Don't know." Why do you want to help him? Can't you see the monster he's become? His lip starts to tremble again as he tries to get a breath in but the tears are coming back and he can't breathe out of his nose. The water is dripping into his mouth and he almost thinks it'd be easier to just drown right here.

Not a day goes by that you aren't worried about him. It doesn't matter if you haven't spoken. It wouldn't matter if you hated him, as if that were even possible. You'd worry about him because Jason Todd has done everything to be enough. He has done everything to be happy and somehow, he's still the one sitting in a shower in tears because the world around him is suffocating. Yes, the whole Robin thing was worrisome. The whole Red Hood thing is worrisome. He gets shot out for fun. He taunts people because he thinks it's fun. Someone else is going to kill him one day, that much is certain. And while that is worrisome, you've also seen the damage people he loves have caused him. It doesn't have to be physical damage because Jason's own brain wants to torture him and it uses everyone else's words as some sort of infinite ammo. The vigilante thing is worrisome, but where Jason's head is, that's the real thing that's worrying.

It wouldn't matter if you hated each other, you would rip every false and cruel thought that ever crosses his mind.

You let go of his face and move your hands to his. You're careful, lightly pulling his hands apart and away from his legs. Once his legs are free, you move to the side and lightly press on his knees until his legs are stretched out in front of him. The whole thing is making Jason watch you with careful eyes and it's almost a distraction and then you climb on top of him. You straddle his lap, Jason's eyes never leaving you and it almost causes him more panicky. He might know you better than he knows himself, but he very rarely knows what you'll do in moments like these. But then, you don't say anything. All you do is wrap your arms around his neck and pull him for a hug.

Jason tenses up just as he's done before but after a few seconds, a part of him relaxes against you. He gathers a full breath into his lungs and it's as if he's giving his body permission to lose it all again, in the comfort of you. His arms wrap around your middle and his grip is so tight as he lets out a sob, you can't breathe. You think you'd suffocate if it allowed him any type of relief.

It is all just too much. The weight on his chest is too heavy and he doesn't think he can carry it. He goes out and he murders people. They may be very bad people but it's what he does and he thinks about how Bruce is so mad about it. He tries to be understanding but they will never come to an understanding over it. It will be a matter of time before Jason ends up an enemy to Batman and by default, an enemy to Bruce. What makes what Jason is doing different than what the Joker did to him? To Jason, Batman and Robin were the Joker's enemies, right? And he took care of a problem, the same way Jason is taking care of problems. Jason might not be the instigator in it, but he's doing the same crime. Was Bruce right about it? Is he any different than the Joker?

Most days, it is a thing that he lives with. It's for the greater good and his soul is already damaged, it's already the property of something that isn't quite him anymore. It's always just waiting in an in-between for his second round at death. He does it so other people won't have to. He does it so other people won't feel like him or you or Bruce or Dick or Molly or any of them. He does it to help because people get forgotten. That's what he tells himself but right now, he can't quite figure out if that's really the right thing. He doesn't know what else he's supposed to do. If this isn't supposed to be the answer, then what is? What if it isn't and he can't come back from it anyway? His hands are already stained with so much blood.

And because of that, he falls back into his routine way of thinking. He is damaged. He is broken and scarred, physically and mentally now. Everything around him crumbles at his feet. He tries so fucking hard to be something that's easy to swallow and digest but he fucks that up, too because no one really expects him to be like that. He breaks everyone around him and all he does is hurt people. They try to offer him love and kindness and he bites through it like a rabid coyote. He is undeserving. Someone who is deserving doesn't push and they don't hurt people for being kind. They don't destroy people. That's all he has ever done.

And then he fucking died. It might have been scary and traumatizing but there was a moment, right before everything went dark where he accepted his fate. That would be it. No one else would have to suffer for his mistakes. He was going to die and some people might be sad for a little bit, but they would move on. And he wouldn't fuck up their lives anymore. And he wouldn't suffer anymore.

The ache in his bones would be gone and the voice would be quiet. All of the pain he's dealt with would just be...gone. He would take his last breath, and that would be it. He has hurt for so long that there was a moment where he accepted his fate, that it might just be better and easier this way. He did not want to die and he wishes he were able to have put up a fight but in that single second, he accepted it.

That feeling lingers with him today. He accepted it and as brought back. The reaper won't leave him alone, tugging at his lungs and his bones. It's not forceful, just a casual reminder of what's waiting for him one day. It's a feeling in his stomach that feels like the start of an ulcer. Just there, waiting for the right moment. And he saw the look Dick gave him when he saw Red Hood was Jaosn. He did not seem happy. You were at first pissed about it. No one really seemed too happy at first when he came back. He interrupted your grieving process and then interrupted everything else. He dies with the ache in his bones and the guilt because he has no choice but he swears he won't do this again.

He put a bomb in his helmet as a failsafe.

You pull his thoughts back to you as you press a kiss to his temple. "You're gonna be okay, Jay."

"I'm not!" Jason yells through a whine as he pulls away, his eyes on you. His chest is heaving as he pants for some sort of air. "I'm never gonna be fucking fine."

Why does the world treat him so cruelly? Can't it see that he is good? Can't it see that he has always been enough? Can't it see that Jason Todd has been through enough? He has suffered enough. You would fight the universe with your bare fucking hands if that's what it took for it to understand that he is done suffering.

"You will be." You nod your head at him as your hands come to the side of his neck. Your thumbs trace his jawline. "And you don't have to do this shit alone." You urge. "I told you, if I'm alive then you are never alone and I mean it. I don't care." You shrug harshly. "It's gonna be okay." You want to kiss him until he believes you. You want to kiss all of his hurt away, scare it away so far away that it never comes back. You want to kiss him as hard as you can so maybe he'll believe, once more, that he is worthy and he's gonna be okay and he is never fucking alone if you're breathing.

"I-I just want to stop." His voice has never sounded so defeated as he rests his head against your chest.

"I know." You whisper, your hand moving to the back of his head as you run your hand through the wet strands of black hair. "It will, you just gotta give it some time, Jay." Your voice is steady and calm, disguising the pain in your chest. "You've been through a lot."

Jason picks his head up, his green eyes are dark and miserable. Completely broken. "I died." Jason chokes out.

"Yeah." You nod once as Jason watches something devastating rip through your eyes. "Someone should have been there to protect you." You wish it would have been you. It should have been you to protect him.

Jason shakes his head and he lets out this chuckle that almost falls into another sob. "Maybe I was better off dead." He says it in one breath, all flat and sincere. "Look what I've become."

"No." You say sternly because he doesn't get to do this to himself again. He has prevented you from this exact spiral more times than you can count and he doesn't even know it. It's your job to make sure you repay the favor that was never really a favor. "You deserve to be alive." Jason catches a subtle break in your tone. "You became something that everyone was too fucking cowardly to become. You save people." You nod firmly. "Do you know how many people you've saved as Red Hood?" You ask.

"Not fucking many." Jason lets out a huff.

"Three hundred and two." You answer right back.

Jason's eyes widen and he is so certain you're making that up. "What?"

"Three hundred and two." You repeat. "There was a domino effect, too. I didn't actually count that because it would be like... impossible but I did account for some of them. A guy was gonna blow blow up the museum but you stopped him the day before he had a chance. So, you saved every person that would have been there. You've stolen how many guns from Black Mask? I mean just think of how many people you saved because you took those guns? Domino effect. Of course, there was the apartment fire last week which I don't know, Jay. You're not a firefighter but you still went into it and saved a whole family then went back and saved their cat."

Jason's eyes burn and sting as he stares at you in disbelief and confusion. The water pelts him and it's the first time he realizes it's going a little cold. Why the fuck do you know that? Why are you keeping track? Jason doesn't even believe you. You have no reason to keep track of how many people he's saving. It's his doing and it has nothing to do with you. There is no reason for it. You're just telling him this shit to make him feel better even if that's never been something you've done.

You don't lie to him.

Jason didn't think you'd start so soon and he did do those things. The Gazette wrote a few articles about it though and Molly knew. Maybe that's how you knew but your eyes are soft and your fingers are idly playing with the wet strands at the base of his neck. Why are you keeping tabs on him when you never called?

"W-why the fuck do you know that?" Jason finally gets the words out and you can't tell if he's actually mad about it or concerned.

You hope he's just concerned.

You shrug and offer him a small but cheeky smile. "Cause I do." You suck in a breath. "Have my ways."

The very corner of Jason's mouth tugs upwards just barely at the thought that you're really keeping tabs on him, outside of hearing from your friends. If it were anyone else, he'd be pissed. He can take care of himself despite what this situation might look like to an outsider. He can take care of himself and he doesn't need people worrying about him and keeping tabs just to be disappointed or mad. Jason Todd has never needed anyone but you keeping tabs on him both as Jason Todd and Red Hood is different because you only do it for people you care about. You weren't talking and you still kept up with what he was doing. It makes him wonder why because you could have called. You could have asked yourself and maybe that makes the tiniest smile fall.

Jason didn't call either.

"Keeping tabs on me?" Jason asks with a rough but quiet voice, his brows pulling together.

Not keeping up with him feels impossible. As much as you're beating yourself up for everything and as much as a part of you doesn't think you deserve anything with him at all, there was always a part of you that knew you needed to keep up. Molly and Gar might know what he's doing as himself but Jason's going to keep them away from Red Hood as much as he can. Somewhere inside your stomach, you knew you'd find your way back into each other's lives one way or another. You just wanted to know what he was doing and if he were okay. The only thing you want is for him to be okay and killing people is not the easiest thing in the world, despite what it might look like sometimes. So, you've been keeping up with him just in case.

He's important to you, of course you keep tabs on him.

"I know you're keeping tabs on me, too." You whisper back to him, the cheeky smile completely gone from your lips.

Sometimes Molly will ask an odd question, something she either shouldn't know about or something off-handed. All of the Titans would just ask you which means the only person in Molly's ear is Jason. And you know damn well Molly is smart enough to know you'd figure it out. You just don't say anything. You give Molly the answer and Molly updates you on Jason's things. Okay, so she's a little in the middle of you and Jason but Molly knows you're both mostly asking about each other because you're worried. It is so stupid and you're so emotionally stunted, but it'd drive you both crazy not to know.

Jason just needs to know you're okay.

"Maybe." Jason finally gets a grin onto his lips because you knowing without saying anything until now makes his heart swell. Even apart, you just can't help yourselves.

"Exactly." You let out a soft laugh.

Jason nods a few times, his smile turning gentle. "Why, uh, why do you know that though? How many people?" Jason asks and he finds himself resting his hands on your hips as if on instinct.

"Helps." You answer casually. "Keeping track of everyone you kill and everyone you save by killing, it helps. Keep track of mine, too so...I kept track of yours...just in case." You clear your throat, dodging his eyes. "Know how you are and stuff so...uh, yeah, just...knowing it does help...helps on days where it feels like this might be worse." You explain softly. "It's not...by the way." You clarify. "Greater good but yeah...uh, yeah, you know sometimes it's a lot to carry."

The way you word it makes Jason's heart burn. His hands grip your hips a little tighter and he remembers the night outside of Jerry's. You nearly beat him to death and everything was still heavy. It was still a lot to carry and Jason told you to put it on him. When it gets too hard to carry, put it on him because he can carry the weight of it for you. You swore you'd do the same for him and Jason wonders when you seemed to lose that.

He knows. Deep down he knows because it haunts him in his sleep. That night outside of Excellent Gotham when you were finally done absolutely destroyed him. He knows that was the night you both lost everything. That he lost everything. He had almost gotten you, Tim, and Mr. Drake killed and you couldn't do it anymore. Jason still doesn't blame you even if it makes him want to lose his mind to guilt and regret all over again. It hurts because he always felt so secure with you but then that happened and it was like everything he ever had finally collapsed at his feet. An earthquake disguised in the words of "you win. I can't do it anymore. I'm done." crumbled his foundation. Your love had been wilting away ever since he came back and that was the day it all finally fell apart.

He wishes he could take it back. He wants what you had back.

"Still will carry some of the weight for you, Jay." You suck in a breath.

Can the wilting process be reversed? Can it be rebuilt? Or is it tarnished forever? Or can you rebuild something better? If Jason committed now again, would it be better? Could you get a fair fucking chance at this time?

Jason grinds his teeth thinking that he wants you. After all of this and you are still willing to be soaking wet in your clothes in a shower with him and carry the weight of devestation for him when it's too much for him. He is endlessly and hopelessly in love with you. He wants you. He wants what you had before and he wants to rebuild it. Somehow, some way, that is what he wants and fuck if he thinks he deserves it or not because you wouldn't be here if you didn't feel the same way.

Jason leans his forehead against yours. "You can still put it on me." Jason whispers softly and you gain a soft and subtle smile.

You don't know it, but Jason is entirely committed to you. Maybe you won't want to try again and Jason can't even blame you. It was a fucking shitshow and he died and you almost died. It was a fucking disaster. Maybe you weren't, but your worlds burned around the both of you and charred you both in the process. Maybe you won't want to and that's fine. But, Jason wants to try it all one more time, banter and games and then falling into something. It might not have worked the first time, but it'll be different this time. He's so sure of it and he is so sure of you. He just wants to find his footing and allow you to find yours first and then, even if it makes him want to throw himself through a window, he'll start the conversation.

You pull away, resting your hands on his cheeks. "Why don't we get up, get dry, and I can stay if you want me to?"

He always wants you to stay.

"Ya don't have to if you don't want to." Jason offers even though he knows you will anyway.

"I know." You smile softly at him before you scrunch your nose at him. "Guess you're just stuck with me."

Jason lets himself laugh. There's no such thing as being stuck with you. You don't get stuck to people and you make sure people don't get stuck to you. He is not stuck, it is always a pleasure to have you around. Even when it's hard.

Sorting yourselves out is for the best. It hurts the both of you more than words could possibly describe and a part of that does not feel it's for the best. It feels, somehow, more complicated now than it did before. It's as if you've both forgotten how to walk around each other and that part feels wrong. You both strolled right into each other's lives before and made yourselves right at home as if it were always meant to be that way. Being a part and sorting yourselves has left this gap between you that you're not sure how to build a bridge back. But it's for the best because you can't be together and offer each other the care you deserve if you're too busy dealing with your own traumas while trying to help the other one. It's a little too much to throw in a romance. It sucks and Jason knows it.

"Thanks."

"Of course." You get up, leaning over and turning the shower off finally.

You offer your hands to Jason and help him to his feet. The both of you are completely drenched and it makes Jason laugh. Your hair is soaked, the small bit of eyeliner is running down your cheeks and your t-shirt sags pathetically over you. You stick your tongue out at him and then laugh with him. He doesn't look much better than you do so you laugh, heartily and loud, the booms bouncing off of the tile surrounding you. It's all a little ridiculous.

"Why are you laughing?" You ask as you gasp for a breath.

"You look like a drowned rat." Jason bellows before he grabs the two towels from the towel bars.

"Fuck you!" You yell before sucking in a laugh and catching the towel from Jason. "So do you!"

"I know!" Jason agrees with you which only makes you laugh more and he thinks you're still the prettiest person he's ever met.

His laughing subsides first and turns into something soft and tender while you just smile at him before rolling your eyes. Jason wides his eyes to mock you and then he turns around. He rests his towel on the counter beside him before stripping down to his boxers and you can't help but watch. You're starting to feel goosebumps erupt over your skin as you grow colder but the sight of Jason Todd stripping down? That is not a sight to be missed.

He's somehow more toned now than he was before. The muscles of his back flex with every movement as he dries himself off. The Lazarus pit healed his face and the other injuries he sustained from the Joker but it didn't get rid of his previous scars. The one from his dad is still there and the other one from a fight on the streets. You still like how they look on him. Proof that he is alive. And the only thing you want to do is wrap your arms around him and kiss up his shoulder blades.

You almost do it.

Your feet almost move and you can almost feel how his skin will be warm against yours. He'll straighten his stance at first and then he'll relax. His hands will come up to your arms and a chuckle will fall from his lips the second you place the first kiss between his shoulder blades. You both would be happy.

You almost move.

But it's not your place anymore.

So, you will yourself to turn around and strip down just as he did, leaving you in just your bra and underwear to get as dry as you can. Jason peaks over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of your back to him. He could feel you practically boring into his back and he's relieved you turned around. It wouldn't normally bother him but he'd have to turn around eventually and he wasn't in for that conversation at the moment. But, he offers a glance, catching the raised lines of scars through your back, something that still boils Jason's blood.

Your scars never bothered him. Proof that you fight like hell to make it out alive. But, it pisses him off because what the fuck did you ever do to deserve the mistreatment? Nothing in this world justifies the horrors you went through and the fact you have to bear the scars for the rest of your life as if the haunting memories weren't enough. Jason gets it more than anyone, especially now. And all he wants to do is pull you into him, litter kisses across your face until you burst at the seams with laughter because you're happy. At least if you're laughing you're happy and that's what you deserve. To be happy.

Jason shakes his head and says he'll be back with some dry clothes before he darts out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He takes a few minutes to get some dry clothes on himself, making sure he's covered with a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. His body starts to warm up almost immediately from the clothes and then he rummages through his things looking for something for you to wear. He grabs a pair of boxers for you, sweatpants that he only kept because they fit you better, and a red t-shirt.

When Jason gets back to the bathroom, you're seated on the toilet seat with the towel wrapped around you, cutting off just above your breasts. Jason offers you a smirk because who are the both of you if you aren't going to do this whole banter thing?

"Wanna give me a show?" Jason quips.

You snap your attention to him, seeing a pile of clothes in his hands and him now fully clothed. "No, fuck you." You chortle back as you get to your feet.

"But I'm sad." Jason gives you the fakest pout you've ever seen.

"You're still obnoxious." You quip, gesturing with one hand to get the clothes from Jason.

Jason keeps his smirk. "Better than shithead."

"Shithead." You beam up at him, still waiting for him to hand over the clothes.

"Babe." Jason laughs before handing over the clothes.

You smile back at him with the roll of your eyes. "Maybe I'd have given you one if you gave me one." You blink up at him and Jason knows damn well this is a trap.

"In your dreams." Jason holds his confidence.

You shrug, deciding to play the game. It is always the most fun that way. "Those are my best dreams."

Jason feels his cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. "Don't have just be dreams, babe."

"You fucking wish."

"If I did?" Jason quips without missing a fucking beat.

"I know you do." You roll your eyes and he knows he's won. "Turn the fuck around or get out."

Jason lets out a laugh before he leaves you to get changed, closing the door behind him. "I'm right out here if you change your mind about the show."

"Fuck you!" You yell before Jason hears you laugh behind the door.

Jason leans against his dresser, tugging out his phone to see what he's missed. He has a few texts from Gar, mostly just TikToks and one asking how things are going. Jason decides he'll respond later, not in the mood much for explaining that one. There's a text from Dick asking how Tim is doing and Jason replies that it's going fine, not offering any further explanation. He knows damn well Dick sent the same text to you and you'll elaborate more. There isn't much else on his phone so he goes to his gallery, a habit he can't quite break.

He hasn't deleted a single photo of him and you from his phone. It's an endless and helpless bit of hope that it'll be you and him at the end of this. And these are pictures from a better time because even when he was dealing with the shit from Deathstroke, at least you were both happy. Everything still seemed so simple compared to how it feels today. It feels like years have passed since you were in your bed changing your lock screens to matching pictures. It's as if you've lost your last bit of innocence in those few weeks of terror and agony. Jason figures that's just a consequence of endless trauma. He grieves for the kids you should have been allowed to be. Innocent and dumb and stubborn and carefree. He grieves for the people you both were in the pictures on his phone.

The door opens, tugging Jason's attention up and away from his phone before he pockets it. A tender smile pulls at his lips as you walk out in his clothes, he swore they always look better on you anyway. You have a pile of clothes in your hand, topped with the black towel. You walk right up to him, standing just a few inches from him and beam up at him before you offer the stack to him.

Jason tilts his head back with a laugh before he pushes off the dresser. "Am I your fucking maid now?" He quirks his brows at you.

"I don't think you want me to answer that." You laugh right back and it's something airy and warm.

Jason shakes his head. "Fuck you."

"If you ask nicely." You fire right back and you watch the subtle tint of surprise fade over his face. You let out a snicker before Jason deadpans. "It is still so much fun to fuck with you, Jay."

Jason isn't the only one chasing the innocence of a few months ago. You can feel it, too. It's dark now. Something heavy is lingering in the air everywhere you go. You hate how it feels and ignoring it doesn't do you any good but what else is there to do? At the very least, the way Jason laughs still makes you smile. At the very least, the way he laughs makes the air not feel so heavy anymore. The banter makes things feel a little bit better because at least you're talking, at least you're still on the same page. At least it's still him and you.

"Give me your damn shit." Jason grumbles through a smile while you do as told through a laugh. "Just...wait here." Jason stutters for a second before he darts out of the room.

You make your way to his bed and sit down, your hand landing on his pillow. There's something hard under it and while it isn't your business, you pick up the pillow anyway. Jason keeps a gun under his pillow and the smile evaporates in a second. You know why he does it but...it's the reality of it. The heaviness of always having a weapon at the ready even when it dangers your own life. To live in fear. To live always on guard. It's not fair.

Your heart aches for him. Even after everything, he deserves better. He has always deserved better but now he's stuck here dealing with the monstrosities he was manipulated into doing and dealing with dying. It's all not fair and you wish you knew what you could do to make it better.

You carefully grab the gun, checking the safety and you're relieved he's at least keeping the safety on. You rest it beside you before you look on the other side of the bed, not seeing any other weapons. You'd hope you would have noticed last night or this morning if he had anything out in the open. But, Jason wouldn't which makes you wonder where else he's hiding his weapons.

"What're you doing?" Jason's voice brings your attention back to him.

"Why, uh, w-why do you keep a gun under your pillow?" You ask.

Jason's teeth grind against each other, knowing he can't lie about it. He moved it last night when you weren't paying attention. He'd never have you sleep in a bed when it could go off. But, by the way you asked, that's not why you're asking. You don't even sound mad but Jason is embarrassed anyway. Exposed again, twice in one night because of course he keeps weapons at the ready. He needs to be prepared for anything. Joker took care of the job once already and Jason has been doing a great job in making more enemies than friends these days. He keeps his guard up at all times so he doesn't get beaten to death again.

"I put it there." Jason states, stuffing his hands into his pockets, practically gluing his feet to the floor. Maybe if he doesn't move, you won't ask any more questions.

You blink at him a few times. "Yeah...I-I knew that?" You question him. "That's fucking stupid, you know that?" You ask with the nod of your head. "You might have the safety on but what if it goes off?"

"Look, it's not a fucking thing. You don't have to make it one." Jason shakes his head, gesturing a leisured hand towards you, trying to brush it off as much as he can.

You roll your eyes before you get up, gun in hand with the barrel facing the floor. "I'm not judging you for it. I get it." You shrug your shoulder as you hand the weapon to him.

Jason holds it in his hand, grip tight while he watches you go to your bag. His brows furrow as you start digging into your backpack. You pull out a switchblade, metallic blue shining against the low light of his room. You walk back over to his bed and put the knife under his pillow.

"It's locked so it shouldn't open on you while you're asleep. Just don't lose that one, I like that one." You roll your shoulders, eyes locked on his. "I got those from Bruce so they're good for throwing." You explain as you swallow thickly and you can see Jason wanting to fight you on it, defend himself but he doesn't need to. Jason Todd never needs to defend himself against you. "I have one under my pillow, too." You say quietly while you watch Jason's face soften and his shoulders relax.

Being with you was always the place he never felt judged for anything, even the blood staining his hands.

"Thank you." Jason takes a few steps forward, finally unsticking his feet from the wooden floorboards. "Don't have to look after me, though." Jason says it simply, a hint of hurt in his voice. He takes a seat beside you. "Not your job anymore." Jason's eyes are dark and sad, something tugging his thoughts back to a place they shouldn't be.

"I know." You say quietly. "It was never a job in the first place." Your eyes go to your hands and Jason can feel the lump in his throat growing again but this time, for the love he thinks he lost from you. Or the love he thought he lost. "You're still my favorite person." You whisper back to him and you don't know why you say it. You only know that it's true and it's always been true. Maybe he just needs to know it's still you and him.

"Still?" Jason asks, his eyes searching over your face for any indication that you're going to throw out some quip.

"Mhm." You hum with a subtle nod.

Jason looks to his hands in his lap and he misses you more than words could possibly describe. He misses your honesty and your care and your quips and the snark. He misses every aspect of you and he is so in love with you. He thought, for just a second, maybe that feeling would fade. Time would pass and it would fade, especially lately. You'd meet again and maybe it would be so different that he wouldn't feel like his heart would burst from his ribcage at the sight of you. You always deserved better than him anyway. After everything he put you through, you deserve better than that but he can tell by how you stutter and tug at your sleeves, the way your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes after the last bit of banter, you aren't entirely happy. Being with him, for some reason he'll never understand, made you happy. And being with you always made him happy. You're sitting here and it's as if his very heart is trying to climb through his chest to get to yours. He is still so endlessly in love with you.

"I miss you." He says it quietly, looking back to you and he wishes he could tell you the other eight letters but..that all seems a little too honest and a little unfair. He doesn't expect you to say it back.

Every day you wake up and you love him. Every day you wake up and you miss him. Today was the first day in two months, you didn't miss him. You didn't miss him because he was down the hall. You didn't miss him because he was here and so were you. Today was the first day in two months, your chest didn't ache with the thought of him. You miss him, too and you miss his smile and his laugh and the new addition of the white streak of hair. You miss his sarcasm and his ability to turn anything into some sort of joke. You always miss him. And you are endlessly in love with him.

"I miss you, too." You whisper back, eyes locking on his.

The haunted words of 'I love you' scrape down your throat, knowing it's not your place to say them. It's too honest, too vulnerable, too exposed. It's too much for both of you and it's not fair to put that on him. It's not fair to put it on him because you aren't sure what you'd do if he knew. It's agonizing swallowing the words. You have felt more at home today than you have in two months. Jason deserves to know you still love him despite it all but you can't say it.

The room falls silent, the air between you growing humid and thick. Tonight was a bad night. They happen sometimes. Sometimes the weight of it all drags Jason down and he can't pick himself up. But you walk right in and don't even hesitate. You always know what to do and you never even question it. Tonight was a bad night but you were here and he is thankful for you. He's coming into himself as Red Hood, knowing, most nights, that what he's doing is for the greater good. He's getting along with Bruce and they're actually trying for once. He sees Leslie once a week. He is trying, making a solid effort to move past everything that's ever made him feel like a burden. It's the forgiving himself for what happened that drags him down.

Everyone was right. It was his choice to go to Crane. He didn't have to. Sure, maybe it wasn't really him while he was high, but it was. It was him making that choice to keep taking it, it was his choice to ignore every single offer you ever made to bring him back just because he was pissed and stubborn and he felt abandoned. So many people have suffered because of what he did under Crane's control. It may not have been the real him but he still did it. And that's a very difficult thing to forgive himself for. And it only ever gets worse when you're involved because you were the one person who never even thought about giving up on him until you were given no other choice. It's a very hard thing to forgive himself for but he is trying.

Leslie says he needs to learn to forgive himself, everyone else has forgiven him and that should mean something.

He's trying.

He's trying to forgive himself and be better. He is trying to accept the care and kindness of others without second guessing their motives or when they'll up and leave.

He's trying not to push.

"I..." Jason stutters. "I really miss you." Jason says again, hoping you get it because he can't stand to not have you in his life anymore.

Your face softens as your heart shatters through your chest. You forgave him for everything the second it all happened. Sometimes, you can feel yourself upset about some of it but it's just the grief kicking in again. The grief of everything you both lost the second he made the decision to go to Crane. It is the one decision he has made that you don't understand but you aren't Jason. You weren't Robin. You weren't stripped of the most important thing to you, of your identity. Not like Jason was. And you forgive him anyway because Jason doesn't like to hurt people. Especially people he cares about. Pushing has always been a way to hurt himself, not other people. You forgive him for everything even if he doesn't know it.

You wish it were different so you wouldn't be suffering through the pain of missing each other. It doesn't seem very fair, especially tonight.

You know what he means.

"I really miss you, too." Your voice is honest and Jason thinks you even sound scared, a reminder of how he sounded the first time things got a little too real with your feelings. Those words hold the same meaning that they do for Jason. Everything you're both too scared to say tonight.

You lean forward, resting your forehead on his shoulder and you know your heart will only ever belong to him. It'll always be safe with him. Jason's eyes soften as he looks down at you and instead of making some quip or joke, he lets you sit in the moment. He rests his cheek against your head and all he wants to do is kiss you. This isn't easy for you either.

You lift your head and Jason's eyes are big and green, the prettiest shade of green you've ever seen. He is still the only thing you have ever wanted. He will always be the only thing you'll ever want. And Jason can feel it, too, like an invisible string tugging you together in every universe, in every timeline. You are the only thing he has ever wanted. You are the only thing he will ever want.

Jason hopes you know he feels it, too so he rests his forehead against yours first this time. Your eyes close as your shoulders relax and Jason finally lets out a breath before his eyes close. He'll never ask because that's too soon into whatever this friendship is going to be but he's hoping you stay awhile. Stays past morning tomorrow and into the night. You don't have to talk about any of it, he just wants you to stay and he wants to stay just like this because it's the safest he's felt in two months. And it's like a reflex, embedded deep into his DNA, he brushes his nose against yours as he feels your breath fan over his lips.

You match him but instead, you brush your lips against his. You haven't kissed him in a month and a half yet it feels like it's been an entire century. Kissing him has always washed away every doubt and ounce of sadness you've ever had. Him kissing you has always made you feel wanted, the two of you against the world. That's how it should have been and that's how it should be now. You want to kiss him so badly you think you might burst into tears. Life was always better with him in it. You want to kiss him to show him that even if you can't be together, you still love him with every ounce of your existence.

Jason's head starts to spin and he holds his breath. He's thrown right back to that time in the manor when you told him to prove it. You said it and he never put in a single thought after that. He took the leap and he thinks it was one of the best decisions he's ever made. That kiss sealed your fate together, even for just that short time. It brought you to him in a way he didn't think he'd ever be lucky enough to have. Being with you made him feel lucky for the first time in a very long time.

Maybe you can do this again. Maybe the way for you to do anything is to tiptoe into it. It didn't work last time but it wasn't for lack of trying. It was Jason who fucked it up but it had nothing to do with you and him. Maybe falling back into each other is how it's supposed to be. Maybe you could fix it all. It's just lonely without you. He's terrified but your lips brush over his again and you're making the first move this time. You can still quiet every horrible thought he's ever had. He loves you with every ounce of his very existence.

Jason brings his hand to your cheek, running his thumb over your cheek. Your skin is always soft under his callused fingers. He thought maybe you'd back out because you do that. You run from everything, you back out, it's all a joke and that's that. It would be incredibly painful but...you don't. You lean into him instead. So, Jason finally closes the bit of distance between you and brings his lips to yours.

You smile against him and Jason can breathe again. He can breathe again as you kiss him back and your mouth moves with his. This might be a one-time thing but that's okay because even if it's just for this moment, you choose him. And he chooses you. You will always choose each other. In the chaos of your lives, somehow, you find your way back right here with your hands pulling the collar of his shirt closer to you and his hands on your cheeks. You choose each other anyway. Despite the pain and heartbreak and chaos and all of the terrible, horrible, thoughts, you choose each other. Even if it is just for a moment, Jason decides to take the second leap and he wants this moment to last as long as you will let it. If you'll have him.

Jason moves his hands to your hips, giving them a squeeze before he tugs you closer to him. You get the hint and without breaking the kiss, you move to straddle his lap, Jason guiding you down. His hands squeeze your hips and he tugs you as close to him as possible while your hands find their way to his shoulders and then the back of his neck. Your fingers tangle in the damp hair at the base of his neck. The kiss grows sloppy and desperate, teeth clanking against each other and it is the most cathartic feeling the both of you have had in a long time.

It is healing parts of you both you didn't think possible. Normally, it's Jason questioning your feelings because why would you ever love him after all the damage he's done? But, it's you questioning that as you kiss him with everything in you. You're just like everyone else, why would he forgive you for that? Why would he kiss you like he's still hopelessly in love with you? You broke a promise to him and he's still here and you have no idea why. But, tonight, you're going to allow yourself to be thankful. All that matters right now is that you're here, together, just him and you.

Jason swears you have left a permanent make spelling out your name across his heart and Jason wouldn't have any other name in your place. And a part of him thinks you know, too. It's as if it glows and heats up the center of his chest whenever you're around. It's like his heart becomes a beacon of light on the top of a lighthouse the second you kiss him. You make him feel alive again and he doesn't have to feel so alone when you're here.

You feel so at home with him. Every piece of paranoia that's been coursing through you fades away and you know, without a shadow of a doubt, with Jason you're safe. After everything, he will always protect you. You will always protect him. You're tied together even if you don't want to admit it to each other. You've ruined each other for anyone that would ever come after and the both of you have never been so thankful.

Jason pulls away, his chest heaving as his eyes open slowly. Your eyes meet his slowly, pupils lust-blown and you have a loving and lazy smile spread across your lips. He thinks he could do this all night long.

He gains his signature smirk. "Did I win that time?" Jason's eyes glance to your lips.

You deadpan and shake your head. You expect absolutely nothing less from him. "Shut the fuck up."

Jason lets out the warmest chortle you've ever heard. "That's a yes."

"Just shut up and kiss me." You groan before colliding your lips with his.

You can feel him grin wildly against your lips before he falls right back into rhythm with you.

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[moonchildreads]

small town

Chapter 26 - The Heart of Rock & Roll

IN THIS CHAPTER: Odd meetings, sudden realizations, and Dottie goes metal [14.1k]

WARNINGS: toxic friendships (not related to the Corroded Coffin boys, they are the best), technically underaged drinking, angst w/comfort, one (1) queer panic moment, author talking shit about Anthrax (the band, not the disease)

A/N: next chapter will start getting more into the mysteries of hawkins so enjoy our final beach episode type of chapter <3 also please let me know if you wanna added to the taglist! HUGE shoutout to my beloved @gutterratt who helped me put together the setlist - i love you always, and i wish i was drinking chocolate milk with you while talking shit about college.

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They say the heart of rock and roll is still beating And from what I’ve seen I believe ‘em

Friday, June 27th - 1986

“Hey rockstar, come on in!”

Eddie Munson was pretty sure he was never going to be a rockstar. He had discussed this recently with his best friends after an intense practice session and all four of them agreed that this had been fun while it lasted, but it wasn’t something they could realistically pursue long term. Jeff was getting ready to leave for college in West Virginia, Gareth was trading in his plaid sleeveless vest for a suit and jazz music sheets, and Donny was much more interested in perfecting his family tiramisù recipe than to keep shredding his fingers by learning new bass arrangements on a monthly basis. Eddie had had a long time to think about his priorities and hopes for the future, but the proud look on Wayne’s face upon seeing his nephew’s first weekly paycheck stuck to the fridge by an old magnet was enough to cement his decision.

No, Eddie Munson was never going to be a rockstar, but that didn’t mean Corroded Coffin had to hang up their towels just yet. They were still squarely in the middle of Summer when the long awaited muggy and rainy Friday that was poised to be their biggest show to date, if not perhaps the biggest show they’d ever play, finally arrived. All in all, the members of Hawkins’ most misunderstood and badass band felt like they’d gotten their cake and were about to eat it too.

“Nice outfit,” James said, a heavy hand coming to pat Eddie’s back while he closed the door behind him. “Was expecting leather pants to be honest, but this looks great.”

“It’s too hot for leather, sir,” Eddie laughed as he hoisted his bursting backpack up his shoulder. “Maybe next time.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” the older man craned his head towards the stairs. “Honey? Eddie’s here!”

“I know!” came Dottie’s faint voice from the upper floor. “Tell him to come up, I’m not finished yet!”

“She’s already done her makeup three times,” James confided in the younger man. “Maybe you can convince her to stop messing with it.”

“I’ll try my best,” he said, saluting him before climbing up the stairs towards his girlfriend’s bedroom two steps at a time.

Eddie slowly pushed the door open to find Dottie at her desk, still wearing her cotton pajamas with a cute duck print and curlers in her hair while she put the finishing touches on the sickest makeup look he had ever seen on her. As if entranced, he leaned on the door frame while he watched her expertly apply a thick coat of mascara to her eyelashes; she smiled at him through her round vanity mirror and he swore he could feel himself melt against the wood.

“Hey darling,” he said, voice all soft and gooey.

“Hey superstar,” she replied with a flirty tone. “Are you gonna come in so I can give you a kiss before I do my lipstick or nah?”

“If I ever say no to that, shoot me because I’ve been possessed,” he kicked the door shut behind him and hurried to wrap his arms around her middle. “You look gorgeous.”

“This isn’t my final look, I’m not even dressed yet.”

“Dunno, baby, the duckies are pretty metal,” he joked while placing little pecks on her lips. She laughed and swatted at his chest lightly, making the backpack that was perched on his shoulder slide down his arm towards the floor. “Here - I brought you a bunch of shirts, thought you’d like to have options.”

“Thank you! I’ll try them on when I’m done with my makeup.”

“Can I watch while you play dress up?” Eddie wiggled his eyebrows.

“No, perv, my Dad’s downstairs!” Dottie laughed with no malice. “But… you can let me do your makeup now and then you’re free to go get a snack while I take all this stuff out of my hair.”

“Aw, are you gonna make me look pretty, babe?” he batted his eyelashes dramatically.

“No,” she said with a wicked grin. “I’m gonna make you look metal.”

Eddie was dying of anticipation as he sat at the Burke’s kitchen island, distracting himself by eating cheese crackers and talking to James. Dottie was being awfully secretive about her chosen look for the night, and he’d tried to look around her room in search of clues while she was painting his nails with her favorite black lacquer but quickly gave up when she grabbed her eyeliner pencil from her desk. Standing between his legs with her left hand gently placed on the side of his face to keep him still as she worked, he decided to let her do her thing in silence - he’d had too many run-ins with the thick pencil himself and did not want to risk an accident by pulling her focus away from her task.

For a brief moment, Eddie got to enjoy the feeling of his hands on her hips, keeping her close as she swiped the pigment on his waterline, but it was over all too soon for his taste. Once Dottie deemed his makeup perfect, she swiftly pushed him out of the room and locked the door behind him before he couldn’t even think of protesting about it. Defeated, Eddie went downstairs to commiserate with his girlfriend’s father (who was still unaware of the change in the teens’ relationship status) and James kept him busy with genuine interest and a few well placed questions about their plans for the upcoming show.

The young Munson boy was in the middle of listing the songs they’d chosen for the first half of their set when James lifted his eyes from his chopping board and looked at something over Eddie’s shoulder with a very surprised expression on his face. Confused, Eddie turned around and was suddenly met with his usually soft and adorable girlfriend looking like she’d come straight out of one of the magazines he kept hidden underneath his bed.

In the doorway between the kitchen and the living room stood an extremely nervous Dorothy Burke sporting dark eyeliner and deep red lipstick, her wilder than normal curls looking both frizzy and bouncy while she fidgeted as she waited for their opinions. She sparkled with bold silver jewelry that had been borrowed from her friends - a few of Gareth’s smallest rings, Jeff’s studded belt, and Donny’s chain bracelets -, and she was grateful to them for being so willing to help her put together a suitable look for the occasion. Two pieces from her own wardrobe were the only things she felt fully confident about wearing; the black suspender skirt and boots she’d worn for her birthday paired with new fishnets made her feel less strange in her own skin.

It was, however, what she was wearing on the upper part of her body that made Eddie feel like all the air inside his lungs had suddenly rushed out of his body. When he shoved a bunch of his t-shirts into his bag earlier, he hadn’t noticed that particular garment had sneaked into the mix, mainly because it had been a couple of years since he had last worn it. It was a simple top really, a white cotton baseball tee with black short sleeves just like Hellfire’s shirt, but  with his band’s logo printed in black at the front instead. The stylized letters spelling out Corroded Coffin now sat perfectly snug against Dottie’s chest, who was looking more and more apprehensive as silence stretched in the kitchen.

“Woah, honey, you look…,” James began, startled.

“Unreal,” Eddie completed, mouth suddenly dry.

“Shit,” Dottie shook her head. “I knew it, I knew was too much, I- I’ll go change really quick-”

“NO! No, no, are you crazy? This is- wow,” Eddie said, a huge grin spreading on his face. “You look amazing, like a- you look like you’re a Princess of Metal or something. Are you sure you’re not getting on stage with us?”

“I think I’ll leave that to the pros,” she said with a shy smile as her hands fiddled with the bottom of her skirt. “But are you sure this is okay? I have other options-”

“Honey, you look great,” James said, putting down his knife and walking around the counter so he could comfort her with a hug. “It’s just, y’know, different from your usual so we were surprised. But you look very pretty, I promise. You don’t like it?”

“No, I do, it’s just… I don’t know, it feels like I’m a poser,” she looked down at herself. 

“You’re not a poser,” Eddie scoffed. “You know the setlist front to back and you were the one who got us this gig. You’re literally our biggest fan.”

“I thought I was your manager,” Dottie joked. “Also don’t let Lee hear you say that, he’ll get upset and he loves you guys.”

“I can fight him for you, you deserve the top spot,” he said, making her snort. “He’s like 70 and is missing a leg, what’s he gonna do?”

“He’s a war vet! Have some respect for the man!” she gasped.

“I bet you could push him over if you wanted.”

“Eddie!”

“Alright, kids, no fighting veterans in this house, okay?” James said while taking off his apron. “I’ll go get the camera before you two head off - behave while I’m gone, please.”

Once he was back and with a new roll film in place, James motioned for them to pose for his impromptu photoshoot. Eddie was quick to hop back onto his stool, bringing Dottie closer to him with his arms around her waist. With him sitting down and her standing between his legs, their heights finally somewhat matched for once and the eldest Burke snapped photo after photo of the dolled up teens - first with big smiles, another one with their tongues out, a third one with the devil horns up, and the last one slightly out of focus as Eddie planted a big wet noisy kiss on Dottie’s cheek making her squeal as she tried to leap out of his embrace. James’ only comment was to offer copies for Wayne, and Dottie instantly knew by his lack of teasing that there was a potentially very embarrassing conversation in her near future.

“We good to go?” Eddie asked. “Gotta head to Gareth’s first to load the drums.”

“Yeah, I’ll go get your backpack and we can leave. Meet me outside?” she replied, disappearing into the living room.

“Come on, I’ll walk you out,” James said, guiding Eddie towards the front door. It didn’t come as a surprise to the younger man when he lowered his voice for a man to man talk. “You kids drive safe, okay? Call me if you need anything, don’t bother your Uncle while he’s at work.”

“Yes, sir,” Eddie said, uncharacteristically serious. “Donny’s gonna take over for me if I’m too tired to drive back, we have it under control.”

“Okay, good. I trust you, Ed. You go have fun, yeah? Have a great show.”

“Thank you, sir. We’ll be safe, I promise.”

None of them were exactly unaware of the deeper meaning of their conversation, especially since it hadn’t been the first one of its kind they’d ever had. Eddie felt equal parts grateful that James trusted him so much and ashamed that he was actively lying to his face every single time he saw him. He was so used to Wayne knowing that sometimes he forgot no one else did, and while he was on the same page as Dottie and they both agreed that they didn’t want to make things awkward with their friends just yet, he hoped they could tell James sooner rather than later. He’d hate to disappoint the one person who had so warmly opened the doors of his house to him before he even knew who he was and without an ounce of judgment.

Dottie finally joined them at the door and after a few quick goodbyes and loving hugs, the pair got into the van and drove off towards the first stop of their most anticipated adventure of the summer. Take that, Hawkins, Eddie thought. Corroded Coffin was officially a touring band, and he was confident nothing in the world could derail the night ahead of them.

Indianapolis was not too far away from Hawkins, located only around 42 miles to the Southwest of the much smaller town. Corroded Coffin (plus Dottie, who was by then considered as much part of the band as the rest of them) had piled into Eddie’s van with their instruments and amps as they excitedly made their way towards their biggest gig ever. After a short argument that Eddie quickly silenced, Dottie secured her place as his co-pilot due to her knack for map reading, leaving the other three boys to sit in the back with Jeff acting as the official DJ for the ride.

Entering the city felt like a dream come true. As Gareth drummed on the window with his sticks, perfectly in tune to the songs coming out of the van’s speakers, Donny leaned forward to follow Dottie’s map over her shoulder, nervously watching as their destination grew closer and closer to her moving finger. It felt momentous as they saw the bar’s neon sign calling to them like a beacon, all five sets of eyes wide with anticipation as Eddie pulled into the parking lot behind the building. They sat in silence for a few seconds once he cut the engine and the radio was turned off, everyone’s heads reared towards the direction of the bar with elation and perhaps also a little bit of apprehension.

The Hideout was safe, a known place with familiar faces that cheered for them and supported their dreams even if no one else in their godforsaken town did. Here there would be no Dave with cold beers waiting behind the bar, no B.B. and Rudy telling stories, no Shonda’s cheek pinching once they were done, no Lee asking for a Judas Priest song before they packed their gear back into the van. Turning in his seat to look at his fellow band members, Eddie’s mouth split into a contagious grin in an effort to muster some collective courage.

“Well, boys. We made it,” he said, cringing at the sound of his own uncertain voice tone.

“So, what now?” Donny asked. “Do we start unpacking or…”

“Um, I think…,” Dottie said, chewing on her lower lip. “I think I’ll go in and see if Jessie is around? I talked to her last week and she said she would be here. She’ll tell us what to do.”

“I’ll go with you,” Gareth offered, quickly jumping out of his seat.

“Okay, we’ll, uh, we’ll get ready to start unloading then,” Eddie said, motioning for everyone to get out of the van.

“God, I need a fuckin’ smoke,” Donny muttered nervously as Dottie linked arms with Gareth and headed towards the sidewalk.

Moore House was a quaint corner pub a few blocks away from the main IUPUI buildings in Downtown Indianapolis, and even though rain had been announced for later on in the night, the outside tables were beginning to fill up with tired and stressed college aged kids trying to let loose for the weekend. The new semester wasn’t scheduled to start for a few more weeks, but that didn’t mean activities at Indiana and Purdue had been reduced completely to zero; there were summer lessons to be taken for extra credits, early graduations to be celebrated, part-time and student jobs to be worked, and sport camps and clinics to be attended, and Moore House always made sure to offer a safe, fun, cheap destination for visitors and locals alike.

Gareth stared around the pub in wonder, absorbing the atmosphere while Dottie stood on her tiptoes searching for someone. There was a long bar counter in the middle of the room with wooden stools and a cash register at each end, a sizable number of booths and tables with people milling about and enjoying cold beers and various pub foods, and a low stage at the back on the right side of the building. The curly haired boy gazed at the flags and banners that decorated the room: cream and crimson for Indiana University, old gold and black for Purdue, and Hoosier pride everywhere you looked.

“Are we sure this isn’t a sports bar?” Gareth asked, eyes stuck to a table with a group of guys who looked like they would have been best friends with the Hawkins Tigers.

“It’s just a college bar, their campus is like 10 blocks away,” Dottie said, balancing on her toes. “Also there’s like a million bars around here, they need to attract people somehow and school pride always sells. Oh, there she is!”

Jessie the Night Shift Manager was standing right outside the kitchen door talking to another employee, her bold makeup and crimped hair instantly making Gareth’s eyes widen. Dottie grabbed his hand and led him straight to her, a warm smile spreading on Jessie’s lips as soon as she recognized the younger girl approaching her.

“Goddamn, teach! That’s a hell of a look,” Jessie said, pulling Dottie into a one armed hug. She was holding a clipboard on her other hand, a clearly borrowed bright pink scrunchie she hadn’t had the time to use yet secured around her left wrist.

“Wanted to look the part for the show,” Dottie shrugged. “This is Gareth, he’s Corroded Coffin’s drummer.”

“H-hi, how’s it going?” he said, a little bit dazed upon seeing Jessie’s snake tattoo wrapping around her upper arm.

“Hey, nice to meet you, dude!” she replied, putting her hand forward to shake his before she turned back to Dottie. “I know I told you last week over the phone, but congrats on your graduation!”

“You too! Any news about the job thing?”

“I’m still waiting to hear back from the lab but fingers crossed! If I have to spend another summer managing this kitchen, I think I’ll off myself,” Jessie joked. “Where’s the rest of the band?”

“Oh, they’re in the parking lot! Should we start unloading the van now?”

“Hell yeah! We’ve got a great crowd tonight, should be fun. A lot of people touring campus this week,” she said while leading them towards an employee-only backdoor. “You guys can come from the parking lot straight through here, I know your equipment is probably heavy.”

“For sure, thanks-” Dottie was saying before Gareth cut her off.

“Not a problem, I can carry heavy loads,” he grinned.

“Good for you, kid,” Jessie said, an amused smile gracing her lips. “Well, just let me know if you need anything. Come find me when you’re done, teach, I’ll get you set up at a table!”

“Seriously?” Dottie raised an eyebrow at Gareth as soon as they were alone again. “You can carry heavy loads?”

“Don’t,” he groaned. “I panicked. You didn’t say she was hot.”

“Who’s hot?” Donny asked, leaning against Eddie’s van with a cigarette between his lips.

“Jessie, the manager. She’s too old for you anyways,” Dottie said at large before going to help Eddie and Jeff at the back of the van.

“Says who?” Gareth argued.

“She called you kid,” she replied, not even looking at him.

“Shit, man,” Donny laughed. “It’s lost.”

“Ugh, shut up.”

Between all five of them, the members of Corroded Coffin plus Dottie made quick work carrying the heavy equipment inside, their constant back and forth through the backdoor making the bar’s patrons notice the commotion. A live show was always something to look forward to for the college aged students who frequented Moore House, particularly if they had a bottle of beer in their hands. College was a moment where people got to figure themselves out, and there was no greater feeling than discovering a piece of yourself you didn’t know was there before through the rush of a good (and free) show.

Eddie and Gareth began putting the drum kit back together while Jeff and Donny went back to the van to get the last few bits and bobs they’d need for the show; Dottie, on her last task before being dismissed as their roadie for the night, headed towards the bar to grab a few water bottles for her friends as she knew they’d be asking for a drink two songs into their setlist. Corroded Coffin might not have known what it was like to shed blood and tears on a stage, but they certainly could sweat for an entire crowd if necessary.

Because of the jitters currently racing through her body, Dottie did not notice there were two people staring straight at her from the other side of the bar, directly opposite from where she was waiting for Jessie to come back from the kitchen. A boy and a girl about her age were inching closer and closer to her, muttering amongst themselves curiously and trying not to startle her.

“It’s her, I know it is,” the girl said when she was within hearing distance.

“No, it’s not, just look at her,” the boy was saying, and Dottie would have turned towards them if not for the fact that Jessie had finally appeared, a pile of cold water bottles balanced on her forearms.

“Ooookay, here you go,” she said, tilting the pyramid into Dottie’s waiting hands. “If you need more, ask Pearl or Frankie, I’ve caught them up to speed now.”

“Thanks, I will!”

“Oh, also I set up two tables for you guys over there,” Jessie leaned over the countertop to point to two square tables pushed together near the stage. “Just, y’know, tell them not to aim the amps directly to that side or your ears will start bleeding two minutes in.”

“I think I’m immune to it by now, but thank you for worrying about my hearing,” Dottie laughed.

“Holy shit, it is her!”

Nothing could have prepared Dottie for the whiplash of turning around and discovering the gossiping couple were none other than Benji and Tracey, two of her old friends from when she lived back in New York. She was suddenly grateful she had her arms busy, because her first instinct had been to reach out for a hug before her brain caught up to her limbs and she remembered why she didn’t consider these people her friends anymore.

“Dorothy?!” Benji asked, confusion all over his face as his eyes raked over her image.

“H-hey guys, what are you doing here? I- I mean, how are you doing?” Dottie managed to get out, trying to school her expression into what she hoped was a pleasant face.

“I got into Purdue! We’re touring the campus,” Tracey said, proudly. “Oh my god, are you going to Purdue too? Or Indy? Do you live around here?”

“No, no, I’m… I’m here with some friends, we live in a different town. We’re just here for the show.”

“Well, you look like you’re ready for it!” Benji said with a dumbfounded tone. “What happened to your hair? It was so long before, we almost didn’t recognize you!”

I cut it myself with a pair of kiddie scissors at a gas station halfway through Pennsylvania, was what Dottie thought, but she wasn’t about to tell them that, lest they knew how brokenhearted she’d been when she’d left everything she’d ever known behind to move to Hawkins. There was an old wound opening itself in the middle of her chest, and she’d fight tooth and nail before they ever saw her bleed again.

“Just needed a change! You know how it is - new year, new me,” she laughed and the fakeness of the sound went unnoticed by the pair but not to her. “So, you’re both going to Purdue then?”

“Oh, no, just Trace,” Benji waved his hand as he spoke. “I got into UTA. Gonna do Civil Engineering actually, so you can thank your Dad for that one.”

“No way!” Dottie smiled, and this time it felt less fake. “That’s awesome, congrats. And you’re still doing Psych?”

“Yup!” Tracey beamed at the fact she remembered. “I’m so excited! I’m gonna move in with Howie so we’re looking to rent an apartment somewhere around here.”

“Oh, wow, you and Howie? Didn’t see that one coming.”

“No, ew, not like that,” she shuddered. “He’s going to Indy U. We’re just gonna live together, you know, try not to kill each other. Fun stuff.”

“Is- is Howie here too then?” Dottie asked, dread settling at the base of her stomach.

“Yeah, Jeanette and him are trying to find a place to park, they’ll be here in a sec.”

“Jeannie is here?”

“We don’t call her like that anymore,” Benji said, his tone playful but revealing of the fact that he thought it was stupid.

“Where are your friends?” Tracey asked, not aware that Dottie’s knees were flaking on her. “We can all sit together and catch up!”

“I- Sure, it- it’s that table over there,” Dottie managed to get out, pointing to it with a lone finger. “I need to do something first but you guys go sit and I’ll find you later!”

Without waiting for confirmation, Dottie launched into a sprint towards the backdoor, not stopping until she saw the parked van on the other end. She found Donny with half his body shoved inside the back, searching for something on the floor while Jeff peered over his friend’s shoulder on his tiptoes, arms heavy with carefully looped cable cords.

“He always does this!” Donny complained, voice a little muffled.

“We should get him a stick bag for his birthday.”

“He has a brown leather bag, he just never uses it because it doesn’t look cool but if he keeps losing these goddamn sticks and making me find them, I swear-”

“Woah, what’s the rush?” Jeff asked when he spotted Dottie bounding towards them.

“My friends are here,” she wheezed out, dropping the water bottles she was still holding onto the van’s carpeted floor.

“What?”

“My shitty friends from New York,” Dottie explained. “I just ran into them, they want to sit with me and catch up and I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“Okay, okay, come here,” Jeff pulled her into a tight hug. “Who are these people again?”

“Remember when I told you about my best friend Jeannie who kinda stole my boyfriend but not really?”

“That bitch!” Donny said, abandoning the search for Gareth’s second set of drumsticks.

“Yeah, so, her and three more people. Trace and Ben are being super nice to me which is odd as hell because they spent all semester not talking to me before I moved away, and apparently Howie is here too and he’s always been kind of a douchebag but I never cared for him that much and I doubt he cares about me either.”

“I know I’ve said this before but they sound like they suck,” Jeff said.

“They do, yeah,” she rested her head on his shoulder, arms wound around his waist. “What do I do? They already know I’m here, I can’t just disappear and miss the show.”

“Hey, look at it this way,” Donny proposed. “You won’t be able to talk that much when we start the set and as soon as we’re done, we’ll be there for backup.”

“Yeah! You just gotta survive like ten more minutes on your own.”

“That does not make me feel any better.”

“We’re playing Mötley,” Jeff said, looking down at her.

“What? There’s no way Eddie allowed that.”

“Oh, Ed was in no position to argue,” the two boys snickered over her head.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll find out,” Donny said mysteriously before turning back to the van. “By the way, have you seen Gareth’s extra drumsticks?”

“Yeah, I put them in my door pocket ‘cause they kept rolling around the back,” Dottie said, unlatching herself from Jeff’s front and going to get them. “Here.”

“You hold onto them, he didn’t bring the holder.”

“I told him we were forgetting something!”

Feeling more confident after their pep talk, the trio made their way inside where they exchanged a final group hug. For good luck, Jeff said, and while no one knew if he meant it for the band or Dottie, the question went unasked. He was the first one to walk into the bigger room to take the rest of the cables to their friends setting up on stage while the water bottles changed hands once more, this time settling on Donny’s arms.

“Hey,” he said, before they finally had to face the music. “You’ll be okay. You have us now.”

“I know. Thanks, Don,” she smiled, leaning to kiss his cheek and leaving a bright red print on his skin. “Oh, no, I forgot I had lipstick on!”

“Leave it,” he laughed, walking backwards and pushing the doors open with his shoulder. “It looks badass!”

Dottie felt a little bit like a lamb walking towards the slaughterhouse as she approached her table, now occupied by friends from what felt like a previous lifetime. Tracey and Benji were sitting next to each other, each of them holding a beer bottle and doing what one could only assume was gossiping as they looked around the place and the people mingling around. Next to them sat Jeannie, hand wrapped around a tall cocktail with a practiced air of nonchalance undercut by the tiniest bit of hardness in her stare. Rounding the group was Howie, already wearing an Indiana University shirt and cap he’d probably gotten during his tour earlier on in the day.

“Hey everyone,” Dottie said, smiling at them when she approached.

“Dorothy?” Howie said, getting to his feet to pull her into a hug. “Wow, what happened to your hair?”

“Oh, I just… I chopped it off! Do you like it?”

“Love it!” Tracey was saying but a voice rose above hers, cutting her short.

“You look like you’re wearing a costume,” Jeannie sneered before also getting up and hugging her former friend.

Being friends with Jeannie had never been an easy task for anyone who had been brave enough to try. She could be lovely if she liked you, could even be considered caring on occasion, but she could also tear you apart just as effortlessly with a few well-chosen words. Jeanette Sanders was the undisputed leader of their friend group, and she carried that title with pride, not allowing anyone to challenge her or her authority if they wished to remain in her graces. Tracey, on the other hand, had always been known as the genuinely kind one of the bunch, if a bit of a pushover. Whenever Jeannie lashed out, Tracey was always there to patch up the wounds she left behind in her wrath, never complaining about it but, most importantly, never defying her.

Howie, however, was a different story. In true Golden Retriever fashion, he had been deemed too dumb to be Jeannie’s second in command but too useful to cut by the time they’d entered high school. He had the most money, the biggest house, and as soon as they reached the age to own a license, the only one who had unlimited access to a car thanks to a very generous gift from his wealthy Criminal Attorney father. That is not to say that the only reason they were friends with him was what he could purchase or what he owned; after all, they’d known each other since they were six, but it was a well-known fact that they put up with his consistent silly frat-boy behavior because he just made plans go so much smoother if he was included in them.

What Howie had going on with his dumb rich kid lifestyle, Benji matched with his stereotypical still-in-the-closet theater kid attitude. Benji was smart, calculating and quick-witted, he was unrivaled in the Fine Art of a Comeback, and had secured his place as Jeannie’s right hand man a long time ago by sheer virtue of knowing who everyone was, and most valuably, what everyone wanted. He could be incredibly manipulative and two-faced, but he was also the one who was the most honest with Jeannie, constantly calling her out and keeping her in check whenever he thought she went too far.

Regardless of this, Dottie had to admit that if you had asked her what she thought of them a mere year earlier, she would have never described any of her former friends with such harsh words. Instead, she would have told you that Tracey was loyal to a fault, tender and compassionate with everyone around her, and that Howie was funny in a boyish sort of way, clumsy, hardworking, and entirely too selfless regarding his material possessions. She would have labeled Benji as self-assured and opinionated, never shying away from being in the spotlight and most likely to be destined for stardom, and Jeannie… Jeannie would have simply been called her Best Friend.

“It’s nice to see everyone,” Dottie said, swallowing her pride and sitting at the table, her back turned to the stage. “Are you excited for college? Tracey was telling me you two are moving in together.”

“Oh, yeah!” Howie said, leaning back on his chair. “We haven’t found a good place yet, but I’m hopeful. Do you live around here?”

“No, no, I’m just here for the show,” she shrugged. “I live in a different town, we’re like 30 or 40 minutes away I think.”

“Where do you live?” Jeannie asked.

“It’s called Hawkins, it’s to the Northeast? It’s really small, you probably haven’t heard of it.”

“But it’s here in Indiana?”

“Yeah, still Indiana!”

“At least you’re close to Indianapolis,” she said, like she would have dropped dead if she had to move anywhere that wasn’t a major city.

The sudden feedback of a microphone cut through the noise in the pub, and Jessie, busy stationed at the till, motioned to a coworker to lower the lights and cut off the ambient music. On the stage, the boys cringed at the shrill sound, Donny immediately lowering the volume of an amp at his side. Jeff looked sheepishly at the crowd, one hand on the neck of his guitar, the other resting on top of the mic casually.

“Hi,” he simply said, his easygoing tone making people turn towards them with curiosity. “Our name is Corroded Coffin, we’re from Hawkins, Indiana, and we’d like to play a few songs for you tonight if you guys don’t mind.”

Dottie turned around in her seat, completely ignoring everyone else at the table and feeling all her frayed nerves turn into joyous pride as she saw her friends on stage like they were always meant to be. Jeff stood confidently in the middle, wearing a white Metallica t-shirt he’d cut into a muscle tank, ripped jeans and a plaid red shirt tied at his hips. His chains glinted as he turned to look at his band members and Eddie nodded once, giving him the go ahead so he could start playing the intro to Dio’s The Last in Line.

Even if Dottie knew the setlist front to back and had seen them play each song repeatedly throughout the last few months, she found she was still happily stunned at the talent her friends displayed every time they got to play rockstars for a while. We’re a ship without a storm, cold without the warm, light inside the darkness that it needs, yeah, Jeff sang, and if the silence in the room was anything to go by, Corroded Coffin knew they had everyone’s attention on the palm of their hands.

“Huh,” Benji said, surprised. “Was not expecting that from how they look.”

We’re a laugh without a tear, the hope without the fear, we are coming…

“What were you expecting?” Dottie asked with a knowing smile.

Benji had no time to answer as Jeff strongly yelled the word home, the rest of the band following his lead and diving into the rest of the song with purpose and childlike joy. A couple of excited hollers were heard through the bar as Jeff launched into the second verse with the usual intensity he always performed with; Eddie joined him once he reached the chorus, happy to be the background vocals to his much more operatic-inclined friend.

They took no breaks at the end of the song, launching straight into Iron Maiden’s Flight of Icarus to a similar reception from the crowd, much to their surprise. Dottie sang along without a care in the world, entirely too delighted to care about the people around her when her boyfriend and her best friends in the whole world were finally living their shared dream and gifting everyone one of the best performances they’d ever done. Moore House was no Madison Square Garden, but to Corroded Coffin it might as well have been anyway.

Once they reached the last two songs in the first half of their set, Dottie anxiously leaned forward in her seat knowing this would be Gareth’s make or break moment. Perched behind his drum set, his next task ahead was to ace Metallica’s Motorbreath and Mötorhead’s Overkill back to back, and while he felt more than capable of rising to the occasion, there was still the nagging feeling that something might go wrong at the worst possible moment. He breezed through Motorbreath with ease, having played it several times to great success at The Hideout, but to go straight into Overkill with no time to shake off the tension in his arms had him all strung-out, and he had expressed as much in the van during their trip to Indy.

“Get it, G!” Dottie yelled in an effort to be supportive, and he absolutely heard her in the lull between the two songs, letting out a crazed laugh as he launched into Overkill’s intro.

Eddie wasted no time to jump in and the rest of the boys followed, giving it their all to get the crowd hyped up before they took a small water break. Maybe it was the manifestation of Gareth’s worst fears, maybe it was the fact that he’d gone all out for the last two songs and wore the wood out, or maybe it was simply an unlucky coincidence, but right at the last second, during his last hit, one of his drumsticks fractured into two pieces with a loud crack that made even Howie wince. Donny hurried to Gareth’s side and they shared a quick talk before the drummer stood up and started power walking towards the exit, most likely headed to the van in search of a new pair of drumsticks.

“We’re gonna take a short break, let you guys get a breather and more drinks, take a piss if you need it,” Eddie said into his mic with a cheeky smirk. “We’ll be back in a sec with more songs, thank you for the great vibes so far.”

“This is fun,” Howie said, polishing off the rest of his beer as Jeannie scoffed next to him.

“Where the fuck is he going,” Dottie muttered to herself distractedly as she watched Gareth bolt past her. “G! G! Jesus Christ- Gareth!”

“I’ll be right back-” he was yelling back to her when he saw her bend down and take his extra drumsticks out of the side of her boot. “Oh, thank God!”

For the first time that night, Gareth realized Dottie wasn’t alone at their table and after shooting the strangers a quick hello, he awkwardly turned towards his friend, feeling very much observed by them and not in a particularly welcoming way. He raised his eyebrows in a silent question; she simply pressed the sticks into his hand and mouthed the words “Ask Jeff”. He was about to say something when Jessie the Night Manager appeared suddenly, shoving more water bottles into his arms.

“You’ve got great taste, teach!” she said to Dottie before turning to Gareth. “Band sounds really good!”

“Thanks!” he said, eyes widening and eyebrows disappearing behind the floppy curls on his forehead.

“Better get back on stage, hot stuff, break’s about to end,” Jessie winked and quickly disappeared behind the bar again.

“Wow,” Dottie said, teasing him. “Didn’t think you’d actually start drooling.”

“I’m gonna need you to be quiet while I restart my brain,” he breathed out, entirely too flustered to come up with any defensive statement. “You said you talked to her last week, can I have her number?”

“No. Go up there and keep being charming until she gives it to you herself! You got this,” she pushed him towards the stage; he twisted in her hold and grabbed the back of her head with one hand to plant a wet, noisy kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, thank you for these!” he said, jogging back towards his bandmates.

“Love you too! Don’t break them, that’s your only extra pair!” Dottie yelled after him and he waved the drumsticks over his shoulder to let her know he’d heard her.

“Well,” Jeannie said with a dangerous glint in her eyes and her arms crossed. “Looks like Little Miss Dorothy isn’t so little anymore. Didn’t take you for a groupie.”

“I’m not their groupie,” she frowned. “Those are my friends, I’m just being supportive.”

“Really? How did you meet them?” Tracey asked, curiously.

“We went to school together. I had Political Science and Chemistry with Gareth, we were lab partners for a few months.”

“You’re not dating that guy, are you?” Benji laughed. “He seems nice but it looks like he’s in love with that waitress.”

“Ew, no, he’s my best friend,” Dottie said, a fond smile on her face. “They all, actually.”

“Best friends, huh?” Jeannie said pointedly. “In six months? You moved on fast.”

“Guess I learned that from you,” she shrugged, turning around once more to watch the rest of the show leaving Jeannie to fume in silence.

“Alright, everyone, who’s ready for some more?” Jeff said into the mic, capturing the bar’s attention once more. “You good to go, Gare?”

Instead of answering, Gareth simply launched into an intro Dottie was very familiar with, but she was confident it hadn’t been included in the setlist she’d seen in the van. They were supposed to open the second half of their show with a Megadeth song, she’d heard Donny argue for it, so what did Eddie think he was doing joining his drummer and plucking along to Van Halen’s Hot for Teacher? It was even more surprising when he approached the mic as Jeff took over guitar duties; the eldest member of Corroded Coffin scanned the crowd with a mischievous smirk until his eyes found his girlfriend before he leaned into the mic.

“Oh, man, wait a second,” he began, turning towards Donny and hamming it up for the performance. “What do you think the teacher’s gonna look like this year?”

Dottie let out a loud laugh disconcerting everyone at the table, but when she locked eyes with Eddie and he winked at her, she knew that Gareth had, as she’d suggested, asked Jeff about the uncomfortable situation going on offstage and had been thoroughly briefed on the issue at hand. It was so like them to change their setlist to make her feel better, and yet so unexpected that it left her a little teary. With a simple gesture, something no one else would have noticed except her, they’d managed to remind her that she had their support no matter what happened or how far they were from her.

As the show went on and the boys played a very funky rendition of Whitesnake’s Saints an’ Sinners, one of Gareth’s favorites, Benji and Tracey began getting more into it, cheering along with Dottie, swaying and headbanging in all appropriate places. Howie looked like he was honestly enjoying himself during Helter Skelter, even going so far as to sing along, elated that there was at least one song with lyrics he actually knew in the setlist. The band took a few seconds to let Jeff drink some water before they played Van Halen’s Little Dreamer, showcasing the boy’s best asset: his lovely crooner voice, full of body and emotion.

By the time Corroded Coffin reached their last song, Moore House was packed with the patrons that had been sitting outside when they’d first arrived at the bar. A light irregular shower had forced people to either go home or seek refuge inside, and many had gladly chosen to stay for the rest of the show and were now being treated to a high energy rendition of Quiet Riot’s Cum on Feel the Noize to close out the evening. During the song, there was a moment where Donny and Eddie, who were goofing off with each other, turned to look at Jeff and Gareth who were also playing along to their antics from the other side of the stage.

Miles away from home, in front of a crowd that had only just met them but seemed nonetheless enthusiastic - or at least not disgusted by their presence - the quartet had never felt more at ease when performing. Even if Moore House wasn’t The Hideout, they knew they could get used to it just as easily if given the chance.

“So,” Eddie said, once the applause at the end of the song had quieted down. “Normally that would have been our last song, but today’s a special day for us. You see, Moore House, today’s the very first time we’ve played outside of our hometown. Little Hawkins has had quite the monopoly on us for the last few years,” he joked, making a few people chuckle along with him. “The truth is, we wouldn’t be here without a very special someone in the audience. You might have heard her screaming her ass off like a banshee all night - that was pretty metal of you, princess.”

It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving her floating between the tables as Dottie realized Eddie was talking about her. Charmed like a snake, she sat a little bit taller, eyes glued to the tender smile her boyfriend was not so secretly affording her. It didn’t matter if anyone else saw the hearts floating above his head - he was so in love with the short haired girl sitting a few feet away from him that he was willing to bear all the jokes their friends had been making at his expense for the past week every time they practiced the surprise they had planned. Just the look on her face was worth all of it, and so much more. Donny motioned for her to stand up and she did so, one hand wrapped around the back of her chair for support.

“That’s our banshee!” Gareth said, gleefully.

“Actually, that’s our manager,” Jeff chuckled into his mic without missing a beat. “And she’s the one that got us this gig so you’ve been enjoying the show, please give it up for her.”

Jessie finger-whistled loudly from behind the till, leading the amused applause that broke out while Dottie marveled at the audience happily following Jeff’s commands. It was undeniable that Corroded Coffin had always been charming, but seeing how strongly a crowd of college aged strangers reacted to them had her feeling incredibly bittersweet at the fact that their path to glory was being cut short so early by themselves of all people. Maybe she could convince them to see their college adventures as a hiatus rather than a permanent break. Four years would pass by quickly, wouldn’t they?

“To show our gratitude to our most Darling Dottie, our friend and manager, let’s end this on a high note, shall we?” Eddie redirected everyone’s attention back to the stage. “This has been Corroded Coffin, from Hawkins, Indiana, and we have one final question for you, guys-”

No fucking way, Dottie thought when she heard Jeff start playing their surprise song. There’s no way. They’d never do this outside of Gareth’s garage, I must be totally hallucinating-

“Whatever happened to Saturday night?” Eddie sang into the mic, exchanging positions with Jeff and taking the lead singer spot in the middle of the stage. “When you dressed up sharp and you felt alright?”

“Oh, I love this song!” Benji said, in true theater kid fashion.

“You used to love Rocky Horror, didn’t you?” Tracey said, remembering an old theater ticket Dottie used to keep around as a bookmark.

“I still do, yeah,” she breathed out, a dazed smile etched onto her face.

Eddie wasn’t the best singer in Corroded Coffin. He knew this very well and didn’t have any issues admitting to it, especially when what he lacked in the voice department, he knew he more than made up for with his guitar skills. When he’d brought up the idea of closing the show with Hot Patootie/Bless My Soul as a thank you to Dottie, everyone else had quickly agreed that while the gesture was lovely, the song did not fit in with the rest of their planned set. The boys had then begun suggesting different songs they knew she liked, but Eddie had remained undeterred. In the end, the only reason he’d managed to crack them was because he’d arranged the sax break into a new guitar solo that had really excited Donny upon hearing it, and so the rest of the band followed suit in changing their opinion.

“Go, girl!” Benji pushed Dottie towards the stage when the solo started and Eddie kneeled near the edge looking right at her as he played. “He’s waiting for you!”

With red cheeks and embarrassed giggles, Dottie let herself be guided towards the stage by both Benji and Tracey, turning back to look at them dancing with one another when she felt their hands leave her back. Shifting her focus back on Eddie and only Eddie, Dottie let herself imagine a future where they got to do this all the time, and instead of having to play covers of well known bands, Corroded Coffin would be allowed to play their own songs - the ones she knew were written into notebooks stashed in Eddie’s closet and Donny’s old toy chest (now turned into a junk trunk after donating all his action figures to his little sister Giulietta to marry off to her Barbies).

With your arms around your girl you’d try to sing along, it felt pretty good, woo, really had a good time, Eddie belted before he moved away and sang the chorus along with Jeff at this mic, eyes never leaving his girlfriend’s beaming figure at the bottom of the stage. He had never felt so in the zone performing before: he had a cheering audience that consisted of more than five drunks, his girl was dancing and singing along with the crowd, and his best friends were killing it even after Gareth’s little drumstick mishap. At the start of the night Eddie Munson had been sure he would never be a rockstar, but at that moment he couldn’t deny he certainly felt like one already.

“Good night, everyone!” Jeff said while they played themselves out. “You were fuckin’ awesome!”

Most people cheerfully clapped for them before going back to their chosen alcoholic beverages for the night, the speakers sparking back to life with classic rock to mask the chattering and gossiping. Eddie took his guitar off his shoulder and hurried off the stage, wrapping his sweaty arms around Dottie who squealed in delight when he lifted her up and shook her around excitedly.

“Okay, okay, calm down!” she laughed, hands coming to hold onto his shoulders for dear life.

“Thank you, darling, holy shit, thank you,” he said, his voice full of emotion as he squeezed her sides. “That was the best moment of my life, I’m so fucking thankful.”

“You guys were so good! That was your best show ever, I’m so proud of you, babe.”

“Yeah?” he grinned at her, finally moving his face off her neck. “You have no idea how much I wanna kiss the shit out of you right now but the guys are totally gonna notice.”

“We can sneak down to the lake after we drop everyone off,” she whispered, mischief in her eyes.

“Fuck, I’m so in love with you,” he groaned, eyes closed and face tilted towards the ceiling. “I’ll- I’m gonna take my shit back to the van and I’ll be right back or else I’m gonna do something stupid and get us kicked out of the bar.”

“I’ll go get us drinks!” she announced, loud enough so that the rest of the boys could hear her. “Beers for everyone okay?”

“I’ll go with you!” Gareth said, springing up from where he was squatting while he unplugged a pedal. “Leave the kit here, guys, I’ll come get it when my arms aren’t about to fall off.”

He offered his hand to Dottie who happily took it, and together they went to order beers for everyone as a prize for a job well done. Corroded Coffin’s Big Show had been perfect and a celebration was in order, even if their table had been co-opted by a bunch of teens none of them really felt like partying with. Sense of danger lulled by the excitement of the evening and the fact that she was now flanked on both sides by her best friends, Dottie relaxed and finally let her guard down, content on enjoying the festivities and listening to the chatter around her as she often did when hanging out with the boys.

In retrospect, she should have known better. Hawkins had changed her, softened her, made her more trusting, more vulnerable. She was easy prey now, and as much as she tried to hide the gaping hole in her chest every time she looked at her former best friend, Jeannie had always been an expert in sniffing out blood in the water. Dottie really should have known better.

The Corroded Coffin boys might not have been stellar students during their time at Hawkins High, but their social status as the school’s freaks had taught them a very valuable skill: all four of them could spot a lion dressed like a lamb from miles away. Introductions had barely been made before they recognized Jeannie for who she truly was, all fake smiles hiding a look of contempt she just couldn’t - or wouldn’t - mask in its entirety. It was almost laughable how easy it was to pinpoint how important she thought she was, and also just how much it bothered her that none of them seemed to fall at her feet no matter how much she flicked her long hair over her shoulders.

Jeannie sat silently at the table, becoming more and more upset as the minutes ticked by and no one so much as turned to look at her. As Tracey talked to Donny sitting next to her, gushing about the show and his performance, Eddie stretched and then dropped his arm on Dottie’s chair, pulling her closer to him without the rest of the group noticing. She looked up at him for a brief second before she leaned forward with the excuse of grabbing a napkin, letting their thighs touch as she sat back down. They both turned towards Tracey with bashful smiles, and upon hearing her friend praising the lamest band she’d ever heard, Jeannie felt a ball of anger grow and lodge itself in her throat. Time to hunt.

“How would you even know if they’re good or not? You only listen to Hall & Oates, Trace,” she laughed dismissively, finger tracing the rim of her glass with a practiced smug expression.

“You do?” Donny asked Tracey who had suddenly gone mute. “My sisters like them too, I think we have all the albums at home. Do you have a favorite?”

“Um, I don’t know, they’re all good…,” Tracey said, squirming uncomfortably under the sharp sight of her friend.

“Oh, come on, you love H2O,” Dottie said, matter-of-factly. “You used to listen to Maneater constantly.”

“Oh, oh, here she comes, watch out, boy, she’ll chew you up,” Jeff sang softly, making Tracey’s mouth lift up in a thankful smile.

“Show off,” Benji said, but it was clear to everyone he meant it as a harmless joke.

“You guys listen to Hall & Oates?” Howie asked, surprised.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we?” Eddie shrugged. “We all love metal the most, but we’ll listen to almost anything once. How do you think we got this one into our music?”

“Actually, Donny was the one to corrupt me with that Helter Skelter cover, so if you want a teacher, that’s your guy,” Dottie smiled, remembering old conversations with the gentle boy who helped her navigate her first D&D session.

“Why does only he get the credit for corrupting you?” Gareth complained, shoving her lightly.

“Because he lets me borrow all his mixtapes whenever I want them.”

“And I don’t? I’ve offered you my tapes a million times but you never take any.”

“That’s because you’re obsessed with making me listen to Anthrax and I’ve told you like ten times that it’s fucking noise.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Eddie said, raising a hand to stop her. “That’s sacrilegious, princess, you can’t say that.”

“Can’t I have my own opinions?”

“Yes, but if they’re wrong, we’re legally obligated call you out on them,” Jeff said, bottle of beer halfway up to his mouth.

“Et tu, Jeffrey?” Dottie asked, hand to her chest dramatically making Eddie snicker next to her.

“You’re fun,” Benji declared. “I like this new Dorothy.”

“Me too!” Howie agreed.

“New?” Gareth frowned, baffled. “What do you mean new? She’s always been like this.”

It had been a long time since any of the boys had had questions about Dorothy Burke’s past. As months went on and their friendships got stronger, they’d gotten to learn about her extensively and she about them in return. The five of them were a well-oiled machine by then; banter flowed easily, diner and takeout favorites had been memorized to perfection, and comfort was given before it could even be asked.

It was strange for them to think of a moment in their lives before they knew Dottie, because it truly felt like they had known her forever. She’d opened up to them about why she was the way she was sometimes, her past experiences and her fears shaping her into the fiercely loyal yet deeply afraid of being lonely girl they had come to love and appreciate. No one could imagine her being something other than who she had always been - that shy tenderhearted teen looking for connection with a bag full of snacks and a set of borrowed dice - so hearing that Dottie hadn’t always been their Dot was a little shocking, to say the least.

“It’s not that she was very different,” Tracey tried to explain. “It’s just that she used to be more… reserved I guess?”

“She was a loser.”

“Jeanette!” Benji scolded her. “That’s rude!”

“What? You know I’m right!” Jeannie defended herself. “She never wanted to go to any parties or bars, never misbehaved, never drank. I’m surprised she even had a boyfriend while she was such a prude.”

“I- I was just busy-” Dottie muttered, embarrassed in front of her friends and feeling her hidden wounds rip open once more.

“Yeah, busy being a loser! You never wanted to go anywhere with us, the only time we could get you to break a curfew was on Tyler’s birthday.”

“If all that makes her a loser I guess we are losers too, aren’t we boys?” Eddie said, dropping his hand from the back of Dottie’s chair to her shoulder protectively. “I mean, shit, I had to do my senior year three times.”

“I had a panic attack the first time I smoked weed and I’ve never touched that thing since,” Jeff added.

“I still go to church every Sunday morning with my Nonna,” Donny raised his glass as if he was toasting.

“The only party we went to during senior year was the one Dot made us go to, and we had to leave because she got into a fight,” Gareth said, laughing at the memory.

“Actually, Eddie got into a fight,” she clarified, feeling brave with her friends by her side. “I just finished it.”

“Well, you did blackmail the guy, so I think 50% of that fight was on you,” Donny reminded her.

“Fuckin’ Andy, man,” Eddie shook his head. “I had a bruise on my ass for days.”

“She almost broke his nose so I’d say you guys are even now,” Jeff finished, turning to the four people staring at Dottie like she had grown two heads. “You should have seen her, it was awesome.”

“You did all that?” Howie asked, almost with reverence.

“Are they gifting fucking lobotomies in that shitty town of yours or did you suddenly grow a personality so you could lie to get new friends?”

“That’s so mean, Jeane-” Tracey said, but Dottie interrupted her.

“You know what, Jeannie? You’re right. I was a loser,” she said in an even tone, aware that she was bleeding out around a shark. “I’ve always been a loser, and that didn’t change when I moved to Hawkins just because I went to a party once. I’ll always be a loser, I know that, but at least I’m not trying to pretend like I’m cool when I’m actually fucking miserable all the time.”

“Holy shit,” Benji muttered, but no one paid any attention to him.

“Don’t act all high and mighty with me, Dorothy. You may have new friends now that don’t know the real you, but I do. Let’s not lie to ourselves here, you’ll always be that know-it-all nerd who used to hide under my wing for protection.”

“Protection from what?” Dottie scoffed. “I was always Jeannie’s boring little friend from preschool. No one gave a shit about me, you made sure of it.”

“Don’t say that,” Tracey said, frowning.

“Save it, Trace. You were all pretty clear about where you stood when Jeannie started dating Tyler,” she reminded them, and at least Benji and Tracey had the decency to look ashamed. “But thank you, really, because if it hadn’t been for you guys ignoring me, I would have never spent all my lunch periods alone in the library with Mrs. Randall, and I would have definitely never gotten into Michigan without her help.”

“You got into Michigan?” Tracey asked after a beat, eyes shifting over towards where Jeannie was sitting.

“Princess got a full ride and everything,” Eddie said, proudly.

“Well, shit,” Benji said, grinning. “Can’t really say I’m surprised, but congrats! If anyone was going to get in, it was you for sure.”

“You’re such a fake bitch, Benji,” Jeannie turned to him, seething.

“Hey, not my fault your GPA sucked.”

“Okay, guys, come on, we’re losing the plot here,” Howie tried to cool down the room to unsuccessful results.

“You applied to Michigan too?” Dottie asked Jeannie, gears slowly turning in her head.

“Thought it’d be fun,” she shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, I’m going to CSI anyways.”

“Crime Stoppers?” Donny said, confused.

“What?”

“CSI, that’s Crime Stoppers International, right?”

“No, dumbass, Staten Island,” Jeannie said through her teeth, humiliated and furious.

“Isn’t that… sorry, I’m not trying to be mean here but they don’t even ask for your SAT scores to get in there,” Jeff frowned, quickly realizing that had been the wrong thing to mention.

“Once I’m a registered nurse no one will give a shit about my SAT scores. And I get to live with my boyfriend in the city if I go to CSI, so that’s a plus. I’d be stupid to ever leave NYC.”

“You’re still dating Tyler?” Dottie wondered curiously.

“Of course I am. He’s so in love with me it’s actually pathetic.”

“Wow. Does he know you talk about him like that?” she cringed.

“Why do you care?” Jeannie said, smug. “It’s not like he’s still your boyfriend.”

“You’re right, he’s not,” Dottie stood up, brushing Eddie’s shoulder with her hand and feeling very thankful for the path her life had taken. “Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom.”

As she walked towards the door marked with a “Women” sign, she could hear Benji and Jeannie at each other’s throats, Howie still trying to calm them down to no avail. The heavy metallic door closed behind her back and, for the first time since they’d arrived, Dottie felt like she could breathe normally. She approached the sink furthest away from the entrance and began washing her hands with cold water, staring at the suds disappearing down the drain like she was cleaning up her own blood after a fight.

When she’d joined the Hellfire Club and met Eddie, Gareth, Donny, and Jeff, she knew things would be different. She was still fearful at the time, of course; a lifetime of disappointment doesn’t vanish just because you’ve found a few good friends, but even if she’d realized a long time ago how truly lucky she’d been to find her people in the Middle of Nowhere, Indiana, she’d never actually compared her new friend group to her older one. At least, not until now. Four friends with four clear positions, and her as an addendum. Eddie and Jeannie as the leaders, Gareth and Howie as the class clowns, Donny and Benji as the seconds in command, and Jeff and Tracey as the sensible ones.

And Dottie. Always just Dottie, loser, shy, boring Dottie, attaching herself to a group and tagging along to adventures she hadn’t planned or dreams that had never been her own in the first place. Except… well, that wasn’t the case anymore, was it? She’d gotten them the gig in Indianapolis, that had been her creating the adventure. She’d convinced them to go to that fateful party at Jason’s house, they’d gone to prom as a group because she mentioned she wanted to go, they’d gone swimming in the lake in their undies because she’d agreed to it. And that’s not to mention the countless times they’d gone out for ice cream because she’d suggested it, or the movies they had rented because she wanted to see them.

In return, she’d seen The Exorcist because Gareth had wanted to, she had accepted the job Donny had offered because he wanted to work with her all summer, she’d actually jumped into the lake in her underwear because Jeff had encouraged her to do it. With the boys she wasn’t tagging along. They always made sure of it. She was wearing Eddie’s shirt, Jeff’s belt, Gareth’s rings, Donny’s bracelets. They constantly and consistently included her, not just by inviting her to things, but by actually making the effort to make her feel part of them. And she really was. With them, she had always been, from day one and without having to ask any questions.

“Don’t talk to me, I just want to pee,” a voice broke her train of thought, and Dottie only managed to see Jeannie’s long hair swinging before she went into a stall.

Dottie considered leaving the bathroom, going back to her table and sitting down with her friends, maybe even ordering a basket of fries to share and pretend like nothing had happened, but something inside stopped her. As much as she hated to admit it, there was a part of her that still cared for Jeannie and if this was going to be the last time they’d ever speak, she didn’t want to leave things like this. Jeannie had been her best friend a lifetime ago. It wasn’t right to pretend like that shared history had never existed.

She moved to the side to dry her hands as Jeannie came out of her stall and went to wash up, biding her time until she figured out what she wanted to say. Jeannie was visibly furious, the little vein in her neck straining against her skin as she chewed on the same kind of anger she’d been carrying inside since they were kids. Jeannie used to be so furious all the time. She’d break all the toys in her vicinity, whether they were hers or borrowed, she’d bite and pull on people’s hair, and she had to be constantly put on timeout as a child so the teachers could get her to settle down for a few minutes.

Their pre-school teacher had been at her wits end the day she sat Dottie next to Jeannie, hoping that the much quieter and well-behaved little girl would be able to influence the terror that disrupted every single one of her classes. The two kids had gotten along just fine during drawing time, but when they were let out to the playground for a break, Jeannie pushed Dottie off the slide, making her fall knees first onto the gravel below. Dottie had then cried and cried, her tender knees oozing blood down her legs and staining her white socks, and Jeannie, upon seeing their teacher approach, also began crying uncontrollably.

What happened next surprised everyone, mainly because Jeannie wasn’t used to being kind to other kids, but the tiny five-year-old sat eerily still in the nurse’s office next to a sniffling Dottie, holding her hand while Nurse Olivier cleaned and bandaged the hurt child. Afterwards and unlike herself, Jeannie said she was sorry, and Dottie, much like herself, forgave her because “that’s what friends do”. Jeannie had spent the rest of their lives pushing Dottie and holding her hand afterwards. Why would she do that if she wasn’t utterly terrified her oldest friend would eventually leave her, constantly testing the strength of their friendship much like a child who can’t quite understand their own emotions just yet?

“Sorry, can I ask you something?” Dottie said, looking at her former friend through the mirror. Upon receiving nothing but silence, she continued. “Why nursing?”

“What?”

“It’s just… You wanted to do Civil Engineering. You talked about it with Benji all the time, you wanted to apply to colleges together. You even asked my Dad about it.”

“Yeah, well… I changed my mind,” Jeannie said, bitterly.

“But why?”

“Because Engineering is not a girl’s career.”

“Says who?”

Jeannie didn’t look at Dottie as she closed the tap and shook her hands to get rid of the excess water, the latter moving out of the way to let her access the paper dispenser. Her silver bracelet shook as she dabbed at her hands with the rough material and Dottie was suddenly struck with a memory so old that for a second she thought she had made it up as an eight-year-old.

They’d been waiting to be picked up after a long day of school on a Thursday, which meant that it wasn’t James the one Dottie was waiting for - it was Uncle Johnny, coming to take her to her swimming lessons at the community center near his home while her Dad was stuck working extra hours. Jeannie’s mom arrived earlier than him that day, bringing her daughter a present: a small Tiffany’s bag with two matching bracelets inside to commemorate the day she had finally divorced Jeannie’s dad. Dottie had been much too young to understand the intricacies of adult relationships and how they affected her friend at the time, so she’d only cooed and awed at the gorgeous piece of jewelry while hiding a pang of quiet jealousy at the fact that she would never be able to match anything with her own mom.

Two days later during her monthly Saturday Crafting Afternoon with Aunt Mary Elizabeth, she told her what had happened with an innocence that tugged her Aunt’s heartstrings before she tore her craft bins apart searching for supplies to make her niece feel better. Between small breaks that consisted of chocolate milk, homemade cookies, and endless hugs, the two of them worked on a ton of bead bracelets, one for each member of their little makeshift family. James’ bracelet was a gaudy little thing with the word DADDY spelled with a 4 instead of an A because they had run out of the correct letters and Mary Elizabeth was nothing if not incredibly creative. Dottie was confident that if she decided to snoop through his bedside table’s first drawer, she’d find the plastic accessory still rattling around with the rest of his junk.

“Don’t- don’t fucking do that,” Jeannie said tiredly, finally turning around and facing her. “You always do that and it pisses me off.”

“Do what?”

“Don’t act like you understand anything about my life!”

“I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to,” she said with genuine remorse in her tone. “I just wanted to know why, I didn’t mean to-”

“Didn’t mean to what? To rub in my face that you got into a good school and I didn’t? I’m so fucking sick of you, Dorothy,” Jeannie said in calm anger and Dottie wished she’d just yell at her. “Just when I finally thought I’d gotten rid of you, you show up to embarrass me like you’ve always done. Stop pretending like you’ve ever cared about me or my life, because you haven’t. You’re a goddamn liar and you know it.”

“I’ve never lied to you in my entire life, Jeannie,” Dottie said, trying not to bleed out in her attempt to find peace.

“God, do you ever shut up about how good you are? About how nice you are? You were always the Golden fucking Child, and I’ve always been trash compared to you. Oh, Dorothy is gonna do something great with her life, you should be more like her! She’s so kind, so polite, so goddamn quiet,” she said, voice mocking before it switched back to scathing. “Fuck you.”

“What are you talking about? I’ve never said anything like that to you! Actually, you were the one who was always treating me like trash!”

“Oh, give me a break,” she laughed. “You didn’t need to say it, everyone else did it for you. You were the teacher’s pet who always got away with murder, and I was the stupid fuck-up who was too much like her Dad and couldn’t get into your fancy college. I might be a bitch, but at least I’m honest.”

“Jeannie, are you even listening to what you’re saying?” she argued desperately. “I’ve never thought of you like that, I swear! I literally spent my entire life wanting to be more like you - you had a pretty house, and all the toys you wanted. And you had a mom! Everyone wanted to be your friend, and I never understood why you picked me instead of anyone else-”

“I knew it, I fucking knew it, I always knew you were a jealous bitch-”

“God fucking damnit, I loved you!” Dottie admitted, clenching her fists in frustration. “I loved you so much, and I wanted to be like you because I thought if I was, it would make you love me back! You treated me like shit all the time, and I still loved you. You were my best friend, Jeannie.”

Jeannie might have looked like she had just been slapped but Dottie knew she didn’t understand the meaning behind her words, not when she had only figured them out after they’d tumbled out of her own mouth. Feeling strangely lighter, she watched as her oldest friend’s eyes changed from furious to scared, as if she was that five-year-old holding her hand while Nurse Olivier bandaged her bloody knees again. Dottie understood then that it had never been about her or their friendship, but she’d just served a shark her corpse on a platter and she needed to get some closure before she left the sanctity of the girls’ bathroom or else she’d always wonder what could have been.

“Why did you apply to Michigan?” Dottie asked, eyes full of unshed tears.

“...Because you were there,” Jeannie muttered, defeated. She crossed her arms before she continued. “After you left I asked Mrs. Randall about you and she told me you were early admission. I was just so mad at you, I- I don’t know. I never told anyone else you had already gotten in when I decided to apply.”

“Why did you switch to Nursing? You could have picked literally anything else.”

“Tyler’s pre-med at Cornell. You know how his family is, and I obviously couldn’t get in with him, so this was my only choice.”

Tyler’s family, while perfectly nice, supportive and polite, had always stressed to their sons the importance of getting into the family business. Not all of them were doctors, but everyone who had gone to college in the last three generations had gotten a degree somewhere in the Health field, and most importantly, they had also married a medical professional. Tyler’s dad was a generalist, his mother was a psychiatrist, his uncle was a surgeon who had married his assistant nurse.

They never made Dottie feel like she had to change her career path to be with Tyler while she was dating him, and yet there had always been a silent expectation put upon their son to “get serious” further down the line. Jeannie knew what this meant for her own relationship once they went off to college, so she decided to make two households very happy by trading in her Civil Engineering dreams for a future that included a shiny RN badge and a nuclear family who lived in a friendly cul-de-sac.

“They talk about you sometimes, you know?” Jeannie said, surprising the other girl. “They say you were always nice, ask me if I’ve heard from you. I think Flynn misses you the most.”

“He’s a good guy,” Dottie said, smiling. “You should ask him for advice on college stuff, he helped me out a ton.”

“Yeah. Maybe I will.”

“I, um… I should get back to my friends,” the short haired girl said pointing at the door with her thumb. “We have a long way home, so…”

“Yeah, no, I get it,” she smiled, a little wistful. “That guy with the long hair, uh…”

“Eddie. His name is Eddie.”

“Is he good?”

“He’s the best,” Dottie’s smile grew bigger at the thought of her boyfriend. “They all are.”

“They seem nice,” she said, falling quiet afterwards.

“Goodbye, Jeanette.”

“Goodbye, Dottie.”

Jeannie stayed in the bathroom needing some space to process their final goodbye, surrounded by New York Dottie’s remains while Hawkins Dottie walked back to the table. Eddie, as usual, was the first one to notice his girlfriend’s turbulent expression, instinctively putting out a hand to touch her as soon as she was in range for him to do so. He pulled her into the space between their chairs, fingers splayed against the low of her back protectively.

“You okay?” he muttered quietly, but everyone’s eyes were on them regardless.

“Not really,” her lips curved into a small pout. “Is it okay if we go?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Eddie downed the last of his beer and sprung out of his seat. “We just gotta, uh-”

“We’re on it,” Jeff said, also getting up. “You two go get the van closer to the door so we can load the drums, it’s supposed to start raining soon.”

“I have to talk to Jessie about your payment, she told me-,” Dottie said, but the sound of more chairs shuffling cut her off.

“I’ve got it!” Donny said, putting on his battle vest while heading towards the till.

“I’ll go get my stuff,” Gareth announced, unceremoniously jogging towards the stage to disassemble his drum kit.

“Okay then, uh,” Dottie turned towards her former friends to find them already standing up and heading towards her.

“I’m so sorry,” Tracey said, throwing her arms around her for a comforting hug. Neither of them knew who needed it more. “I’m sorry about everything. It was really lovely to see you again.”

“You’re glowing, girl,” Benji said when it was his turn to get a hug. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”

“Show was great, guys,” Howie said to Eddie and Jeff, giving them both a boyish pat on their shoulders.

“Thanks, man. See you around.”

Dottie wrapped her arms around herself while Eddie led her towards the van, never letting go of her hand while he guided the vehicle closer to the double doors that led to the backside of the building. The smell of an incoming storm filled the air as he lowered his window and lit up a cigarette before turning to her with a knowing look on his face.

“D’you wanna talk about it?” he asked, only the rumble of the van’s motor filling the quiet of the night.

“I… I think I used to have a crush on her,” Dottie said, coming to terms with something that deep down she had always known but had never dared to think about.

“Uh-oh. Should I be worried?” Eddie pouted, succeeding in his goal to make her giggle.

“You’re silly,” she moved closer to him, ready to put their argument behind and Eddie obliged, throwing an arm around her. “The show was so good. I’m so proud of you.”

“Yeah? You liked our surprise?”

“Are you kidding? I loved it. You’re so talented,” she leaned up to kiss him but couldn’t reach his lips, giving him a peck on his jaw instead. “We have to come back, see if we can get you booked again.”

“I love you,” he said, staring down at her completely and truly lovesick. “You’re amazing. Best manager in the fuckin’ world.”

“I love you too, Ed. Thank you.”

“The hell you thanking me for, darling?”

The van’s back doors opened with a loud noise startling them apart as Gareth and Jeff pushed the rest of their equipment onto the carpeted floor, quickly securing it and climbing into the backseat. Donny rushed out of the building with an unlit cigarette in his hand and an envelope in the other, waving it in the air proudly. The first thunder of the night mixed in with their cheers as he got in and Eddie pulled out of the parking lot.

“Hey, guys,” Donny said, watching Jeff count their earnings. “You wanna go to McDonald’s?”

“Oh, fuck yes,” Eddie said, turning the corner and heading towards the Golden Arches glowing in the distance. “We need fries, don’t we, princess?”

“Yes, please,” Dottie agreed. “And milkshakes.”

“Dot, your old friends sucked ass,” Gareth said, tone conversational but still a little upset on her behalf as he leaned over her seat to throw his arms around her shoulders.

“I don’t know. They weren’t always that bad,” she mused, hands coming to hold his forearms crossing over her collarbones. “You guys are much better though.”

“Hell yeah we are!” Donny said, smug.

“Hey, Gare… I think you might wanna look at this,” Jeff said, barely contained mirth staining his serious tone.

On his hand was a napkin with girly writing scribbled with a blue pen on it, right underneath the Moore House logo. It read: hey hot stuff, sorry to disappoint. I would have totally given you my number if you were older, but sadly you’re not. Keep drumming like that and make me regret having morals when your band becomes huge. XO, Jessie.

“Turn back!” Gareth yelled dramatically, pulling at Eddie’s shoulder. “In the name of love, turn back!”

“Sit down, Bono, she’s four years older than you. She’s not interested,” Donny cackled, forcing him back into his seat.

“Yeah, man, she just wanted to let you down gently,” Eddie said, joining in on the teasing.

“That’s my future wife you’re talking about, you assholes,” Gareth said, knowing full well he didn’t have a chance with Jessie the Night Manager but having fun pretending he did.

As the rain kept falling and their good natured ribbing continued while heading to McDonald’s, Dottie quietly basked in the knowledge that she was safe swimming on open waters with her best friends. She swore right there and then that she was willing to die for each and every one of them, because she knew they were much more likely to be on the surfboard next to her, fighting for their lives together instead of being the ones attacking her.

Previous chapter of her life finally closed, she peacefully leaned against her seat as Eddie pulled into the McDonald’s drive thru. NYC Dottie is dead, long live Hawkins Dottie, she thought, unabashedly staring at her boyfriend as he ordered enough fries and milkshakes to last them the whole trip back home.

taglist: @munsonology @kurdtbean @eg-dr3amer3 @oneforthemunny @munsons-queen

@cinemabean

[slayerkitty]

Narrative Frameworks in Only Friends

So here we are, the finale of Only Friends and not a framework in sight. Would the last half of the show worked better in some respects if we had the frameworks come back? Would we understand more about why Boston's friends hate him? (Did they ever like him? Ray seemed to, but Mew and Cheum...)

I wish we had gotten more frameworks toward the end. I wish the voiceovers had come back for the last episode if nothing else, because I would have wanted one from each character. It would have maybe solved some of the narrative issues (re: Boston).

I also wanted to thank everyone who liked, reblogged, commented or otherwise interacted with me and these posts on a weekly basis. Your feedback, discussions and general love made watching Only Friends an amazing experience each week and reminded me why I love being in fandoms.

Shoutout to the amazing members of the Ephemerality Squad who made this ride fun and thought provoking: @lurkingshan, @waitmyturtles, @wen-kexing-apologist, @chickenstrangers, @ranchthoughts, @twig-tea, @clara-maybe-ontheroad, @distant-screaming, @thatgirl4815, @elizabethsebestianhedgehog

I've gone back and added things to earlier episodes that weren't there before, so make sure to read through the whole list! Please let me know if I missed anything - I will edit this post based on suggestions.

Frameworks:

1. Voiceovers: gives the audience specific insight into a characters thoughts and feelings; also a great way to provide exposition. It’s more of an audio than visual framework, as we don’t always see the character doing the voice-over because it plays over other scenes.

2. “Talking Heads”: The characters talk directly to the camera, interview/documentary style. We get to see exactly how they feel about a given moment because they are reacting to it at that time. Audio and visual. Homage to Love8009 (per P'Jojo).

3. Social Media (ft The Artist Formerly Known as Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook): Not as insightful as the other two frameworks but does give context and a way for interaction, commentary, and exposition on a given plot. Visual. Probable homage to Together With Me, one of the first spicy BLs starring our kings, MaxTul.

(Side Note: I was re-watching some scenes from Never Let me Go and realized P'Jojo uses yellow text on the screen in it too. So maybe he just likes the yellow text or maybe it means something, idk, idk.)

Episode 1

Framework: Voiceover

Title: What’s Your Role in a Bar?

Narrator: Mew

Visual Moment: Yellow title cards listing everyone’s “roles” as well as the month and days of the week

End Credit Shot: Mew sitting on the floor in front of his fish tank

Episode 2

Framework: Talking Heads

Title: M.F.M. My Favorite Man

Narrator: Everyone

Visual Moment: The talking heads scenes; SandRay smoke kiss; Boston's dark room; Photo Boston takes of Nick post sex; Photo of RayMew from wakeboarding

Audible Moment: The songs Ray plays during his scenes with Sand

End Credit Shot: Ray driving

Episode 3

Framework: Social Media (Twitter and Instagram)

Title: What Am I to You?

Narrator: Nick and Boston

Audible Moment: The thunder rumbling ominously over everyone's bad decisions, Nick listening to the TopBoston sex audio

Visual Moment: Top's Instagram (with all of Boston's comments); Photo strip of TopBoston from their hookup in the photo booth; Photo of the Fab Four in Boston's room; Nick watching TopBoston have sex; Photo of RayMew kissing

End Credit Shot: Nick listening to TopBoston sex audio

Episode 4

Framework: Voiceover

Title: Emergency Contact

Narrator: Ray

Visual Moment: The flashback of RayMew is in 4:3 ratio (meaning it looks like recorded footage versus a memory); yellow text onscreen indicates flashback

Audible Moment: TopMew at the silent disco (both moments of silence but also them singing); SandRay listening to music at the record store

End Credit Shot: Ray driving (repeat from episode 2)

Episode 5:

Framework: Voiceover

Title: The Extra Hour

Narrator: Sand

Visual Moment: Intro and Outro are animated; black and white (made me think of the Take on Me MV by A-ha but I’m open to suggestions on what this might be referring to), "Ray o'clock/Alone o'clock" appearing onscreen in white letters (not yellow!); TopMew going Instagram official; The blind dining scene

End Credit Shot: Sand driving his motorcycle

Episode 6:

Framework: None

Title: Happy Fucking Birthday

Narrator: None

Audible Moment: Ray listens to the TopBoston sex audio; Mew plays the TopBoston sex audio for Top

Visual Moment: Top draws Mew sleeping/gives Mew a book of drawings he did of Mew; BostonNick selfies

End Credit Shot: Top in his bathtub alone looking angsty

Episode 7:

Framework: None

Title: After Effect

Narrator: None

Visual Moment: Mew setting the drawing on fire; Boston’s sex tape; the “super zooms”

End Credit Shot: Mew sitting on the floor in front of his fish tank (repeat from episode 1)

Episode 8:

Framework: None

Title: Save Me

Narrator: None

Visual Moment: Facebook party invite/everyone’s reactions to the invite; Everyone’s costumes at the party

End Credit Shot: Boston looking angsty at the hostel

Episode 9:

Framework: None

Title: The Return

Narrator: None

Visual Moment: Boston’s photo of Atom; Top recording SandRay kissing;

End Credit Shot: Top in his bathtub alone looking angsty (repeat from episode 6)

Episode 10:

Framework: None

Title: Redemption

Narrator: None

Visual Moment: The “I will never leave you”/“I will never love you” neon sign; Boston’s photos of Atom; Nick’s photo as Boston’s lock screen; Boeing’s Instagram

End Credit Shot: Ray driving (repeat from episode 2 and episode 4)

Episode 11:

Framework: None

Title: Move On Move In

Narrator: None

Visual Moment: Boston taking pics of NickAtom

End Credit Shot: Sand driving his motorcycle (repeat from episode 5)

Episode 12:

Framework: None

Title: Begin Again

Narrator: None

Visual Moment: Yellow letters indicating the date (NYE); Framed photo of Nick; Framed photo of the Fab Four at the hostel; Mix's entrance; Begin Again montage of SandRay; Hostel sign "Only Friends Stay"

Audible Moment: Begin Again montage of SandRay

End Credit Shot: Outtakes/BTS

Tagging @sandrayy by request

Apologies to anyone I forgot!

[vergess]

So a friend reblogging this interview tips post, which is a perfectly fine post with advice that is useful or whatever.

But I desperately need hiring managers to stop acting like the livelihood and continued survival of their interviewees is "playing the game." It's not a game; it has never been a game. It's people's survival. Our lives.

I understand that to management it's about showing team spirit. But to everyone else, management just said that I need to buy new clothes if I even want to be considered a meritorious applicant, regardless of my skills, experience and attitude.

Because every single thing I own is "ratty." That is to say, it is worn out, thread bared, and has stains/rips embroidered over. That's what being a poor person looks like.

"Oh just spend $20 on a shirt and pants."

I'm also fat. Button down shirts that won't be an Obscenity charge are $40. Pants are $60. I have 37 dollars to my name and I still have to buy medicine and shelter.

And remember: this expense is for the lottery chance that I may get hired. It is NOT an expectation presented AFTER an offer.

I get to pay for new clothes for russian roulette.

I should spend everything I have and more to buy one outfit for interviews and really, really hope that this time I get the job. Even though interviews are notoriously biased against fat people, POC, queer people, and women.

Management also just said I need to prove that I know about the company atmosphere from personal, unpaid, off the clock research above and beyond the application and interview process.

That I should self teach, BEFORE so much as an offer is made.

Meanwhile literally hundreds of my applications are thrown away on a weekly basis (I do about 15 applications a day most week days, and have been for multiple years now). The reasons for this are varied. Sometimes its because my name sounds too ethnic (I've had so many interviewers compliment me for not being Black which they thought based on my name). Sometimes they think I'm over qualified for every single job within 55 miles of me, as though having a college degree means I can photosynthesize instead of needing a home.

Often it's simply because companies lie all the time about whether they are actually hiring, posting dozens of fake job listings. That way they can tell their overworked and underpaid staff, "Oh, the reason you have 3 doubles a week is because of all those lazy unemployed assholes that don't want to work."

The fact that there is a "game" where the loser may become homeless or dead at all is deranged. The fact that the losing players all have to smile, and cheer, and cooingly tell the winners what a Good, Good Job they did is significantly more disgusting.

And let me be clear: the OP of that post is a hiring manager. That shit about "ratty clothes" is entirely under the hiring manager's opinion. There's no way to know what a given hiring manager thinks of your clothes, though if you're visibly poor, fat, or nonwhite chances are they would think you look unkempt in a full 3 piece suit with garters.

That shit about "show me you did independent unpaid labour to prove your loyalty to a company that isn't even hiring you yet" is ALSO under the manager's absolute judgment. You have NO way of knowing what stupid tidbits of information are the "right" ones to recite. You could memorize every piece of information that company has ever published and you STILL would not know which trivia is the Right Answer.

Same with the "ask me a question" shit.

There is no right answer. Interviews don't check for skills, abilities, experience, or even team cohesion.

They are vibe checks. They exist to give hiring managers a way to disqualify IMMENSELY qualified candidates over their own unexamined bigotries.

And btw? We have the science to prove it. It's called "implicit bias."

If you have an accent, are fat, aren't white, are visibly disabled or queer in any way, etc? Your inability to get a job is not because you "didn't play the game."

It's because the "game" was rigged to fuck you over from the start.

[bardicbeetle]

hey. Hey. You got any analysis of the Lost Boys or thoughts on the movie to share? who's your favorite character in it and why??

@abalonetea

Analysis on the movie I've been many levels of obsessed with since age 14 you ask?

...this is going to end up undercut for length I can already feel it.

The Lost Boys is my comfort movie, my I-feel-like-shit-nothing-is-fixing-it movie, my I-can't-write-please-help movie and my go-to for when I am inflicting media upon a new friend. I know it backwards forwards, upside down and inside out, I own the out of print novelization written by Craig Shaw Gardener, I posted the original prequel script to fanfiction.net in the early 2010s because I found it buried in a forum post and wanted it to be easier to find, I have listened to every version of cry little sister that G Tom Mac has ever put out in addition to the entire stage musical he produced. The fic I wrote for it in 2011 is still on Wattpad and to this day for some fuck ass reason gets 1000s of hits per year. I have another fic for it on ao3 that still takes up brainspace for me on a minimum weekly basis.

I.

Honestly do not know who I am as a writer if not for this film.

It is such a huge part of who I am as both a fan of media and a vampire writer and as a horror enjoyer in general.

And it is undeniably, baked into its bones, queer as fuck.

Not just from the overt point of here is a film in the 1980s about men sharing blood, directed by an openly gay man, hands us platonic and familial and romantic interactions between male characters, who are allowed to hold one another, allowed to express emotion, allowed to exist freely and without shame I am--so very abnormal about this movie.

I'll be the first to admit it's not perfect by any means, it very much exists a time capsule of its era, but also, to momentarily put the bar on the floor, it isn't slur laden and full of take-backs for any of the emotional vulnerability like other things around then were (see: Once Bitten, which while unarguably very much more on the comedy side of horror-comedy, i'm going to put into the same category by virtue of Camp Vampire Movies of the 80s).

It hands us one of my favorite mothers of all time. Lucy Emerson is a treasure, she spends the whole movie trying her goddamn best to remember that she is stronger than anyone gives her credit for. That she chose to divorce an abusive man, pick up her two sons, and leave without more than signing the papers and getting out. She doesn't care if they're poor, she doesn't care if she could have gotten something from her ex-husband, she wants her boys safe and there is a very large implication that sticking around to do the whole song and dance would have ended badly. Lucy lives for her sons, she wants so badly to make the world easier for them than it was for her, she wants to be part of their lives and part of their interests even if she does not understand them, and I maintain that Had Max Actually Succeeded, it would not have been long before the Lost Boys themselves were Lucy's as much as her own two sons, and that would not have ended well for Max. Protecting mother, lioness, made to be underestimated so you are always caught off guard.

Edgar and Alan Frog are near and dear to my heart, these idiot vampire hunter children were just so very much what my brother and I were in terms of Making Up Games To Play--ignoring the fact that for these two it's real, not that it ever had been before the Emerson family rolled into town and Sam's brother got mixed into the Lost Boys group. Edgar wanting to be in charge of things and wanting to protect the people he cares about and the town he is too stubborn to admit he loves despite being what, 12? 14? Alan being quieter but just as absolutely ready to go "yeah we are totally experts at this" as his twin, the fact that neither of them have any idea what they are getting into. Dipping barely into the sequels territory (which...they aren't good. by any definition. but Edgar and Alan are the best part of them both) we get Edgar dealing not only with his perceived loss of Alan to half-vampirism, but his whole loss of Sam after having to kill him and I just.

Ugh.

NOW, dipping into the main event there is Michael, who spends this whole movie just trying to figure out where the hell he's supposed to belong at this point. He doesn't see any point in starting a new high school in his senior year, he doesn't want to upset his mother by just absolutely dropping off the planet, he cares deeply about his family and wants to help however he can because they are struggling for money. So what does this seventeen year old kid do? He starts picking trash up off the beach for eight hours a day. He gives that money to his mother under the guise of it being "leftover from christmas" because he doesn't want her to worry about him working. He feels so fucking lonely without the friends he left behind in Phoenix and he feels like he's too old to supplant himself into a new friend group in Santa Carla before everyone goes their separate ways after high school anyways.

Enter Star and the Lost Boys.

Yes, Michael is taken in by Star because she's beautiful and mysterious and he's a teenage boy seeing nipples through a tank top, but beyond that he sees in her, in David and the others, how self sure they all are of the decisions they've made. This group is all within his age, they're all living in a goddamn sunken hotel half claimed by the ocean, they have motorcycles like him, they smoke weed and eat chinese food and Marko keeps pigeons and Dwayne can skateboard and Paul is a music nerd and what the fuck how do they manage to seem like they have their lives more together as a group of teenage runaways than he does?

He's enamored with it, obsessed with it, the movie speeds up a timeline of something that does in fact happen over the course of a couple weeks, of him hanging out with them, slowly experiencing more and more symptoms of vampirism from the blood he drank the first night, unable to stop coming back, unable to really figure out what it is they have figured out that he doesn't, and hoping that maybe if he stays with them he will eventually feel the same confidence in his own existence that they do.

But couple that with the horrifying reality that he is becoming a monster. His younger brother is terrified of him, the family dog bites him, the horses won't go near him, he pulls a mouse out of a trap freshly dead and squeezes it like a spent juice box into his mouth, he is falling apart at the seams by the time David decides it's time to finish things. And that's what David wants, he wants Michael in a position where he is no longer lucid enough to resist once there's blood in the air.

And it almost fucking works.

I stand by my belief that the entire movie hinges on the beach party where the Lost Boys kill a whole bunch of Surf Nazis. The whole thing, the outcome of the final fight, the failure of Max's plan, all of it hangs on that one night, and whether or not Michael can actually manage not to give into the bloodlust. He does manage, obviously, he leans into the shock and fear and near throws himself out of that tree because he knows that if he doesn't, he will join the blood bath happening not ten feet away. He is starving and exhausted and everything in him is screaming that if he just gave in, it would all feel so much better.

But he doesn't.

He lays in the sand until he cannot hear any heartbeats left.

Lays there clawing his hands into the ground like if he can hold himself still enough then maybe this will stop being real.

Three of the four boys don't pay much mind to this, Dwayne Paul and Marko have slipped back into regular antics despite being coated red. Their faces have returned to normal, their eyes no longer brilliant gold rimmed red, they are laughing and shoving and having a good time.

But David is furious. He's quiet about it, he isn't loudly angry, something I think he probably absorbed from Max over the years, he tells Michael what needs to be done if he wants to stay with them, and then he and the other Lost Boys leave him there in the sand, burnt flesh and ashes drifting down to him on the breeze.

The thing about David is that he realized the night on the train bridge that he didn't care about Max's bullshit plan. He didn't care that he was originally going to feed Michael to Star. He is fixated on getting Michael to join them, not just for himself, not just to keep Star around, but also because there's a refusal to give up in this kid that has him excited, a stubbornness that he wants to break. It's the thing that eventually leads to his death.

ANYWAYS.

I think, perhaps, I have yelled enough.

Oh, shit, favorite character.

I think without any doubt it has to be David. Especially after reading the novelization, the comics, the original prequel script, he's just, he is such an interesting character and his motivations are so obvious despite how much he would appear to hold them close to his chest. He's a root character I can trace a lot of the tropes that carry over in my own antagonists to, and some of my protagonists as well.

double anyways, camp vampires from 1987 my beloved.

Thank you Katie <3

[springfieldork]

Fun Things Are Fun

I wouldn’t say I grew up watching anime. Most of my childhood was spent with shows like Star Wars: The Clone Wars or Avatar: The Last Airbender. Sure, I had seen the occasional clip from shows like Dragon Ball or Pokemon or even more recent works like Attack on Titan, but the idea of ‘anime’ being different from cartoons never really entered my mind until I somehow sat down in 2016 to watch K-ON! Looking back, I have no idea why I decided to watch something so outside of my comfort zone, but I’m happy I did because K-ON! introduced me to anime, and it has made an indelible mark on my life because of it.

K-ON! Focuses on a high-school girl named Yui Hirasawa. She’s an airhead and clumsy and innocent. And at first glance, she and I could not be more different. But as the show moved past her introduction, and I got to see Yui struggling with picking out a club to join, I realized that there might be a little bit more to her than I had thought, and I empathized with her on something very unexpected: the feeling of being aimless and a little bit lost.

I had always struggled with not really knowing what exactly I wanted to do, and questions like ‘What do you want to do when you’re older?’ or ‘Where are you going to go to college?’ were ones I had to deal with on a weekly basis. And I was just smart enough — or maybe pessimistic enough — to realize that I couldn’t be a writer and an astronaut and a trauma surgeon and an aerospace engineer and a marine biologist and an archaeologist and a chef and a diplomat and a… you get the point. But I was also a kid who ‘had a gift’ and was ‘way smarter than the rest,’ so I couldn’t just give up. I ended up grinding away and eventually got burnt out working toward an uncertain future after realizing that not only was I not enjoying life in the present, but I didn’t even have a guarantee of enjoying it later. And I guess I saw a little bit of myself in Yui because a part of me wondered if I could learn anything from this strange and timid girl. So I kept watching.

Yui ends up joining the Light Music club with three other girls; Ritsu, the tomboy genki drummer, Mio, the shy but responsible bassist, and Mugi, the cheery and easily excitable keyboardist — Azusa joins the band a year later as well, but for now, it’s just these four and their club adviser. A common joke you might see regarding this series is that K-ON! is a music anime where they never play music, and there’s certainly a bit of truth to that. Most of the band’s days are spent doing nothing but talking, eating cake, and drinking tea — I mean, the band’s name is literally ‘Ho-kago Tea Time’ — which begs the question, what is this show actually about? And to answer that, I would like to use a quote — one that I really think captures the essence of K-ON!

“Fun things are fun.”

Yes, yes, truly the erudite our protagonist Yui is with such a compelling and insightful take on the nature of things, but it’s true. Fun things really are fun. And I think a lot about this quote even today. All too often, we go through the fun parts of life without really appreciating the simple joy that comes with them. Yui believed in having tea and eating cake and practicing songs with her friends because doing all those things was fun. Having fun was the point. And as I have continued living my own life, I have tried to keep that idea in mind. Obviously, my life did not magically become enjoyable and happy overnight, but I really have found myself appreciating the small things more. I’m still not quite sure what the future holds — and that can be a very scary thing indeed — but I do know that I can always enjoy the fun things now, regardless of what might happen later. So, thank you, K-ON! for reminding me about the love that comes with the small stuff — and for introducing me to an art form that would change my life in so many more ways. 

If you’re considering giving this anime a try, I highly recommend it. Because in a world where the good parts of life can pass us by in a blink, it can always be helpful to remind yourself that fun things are fun.

[eldritchsurveys]

1194.

Did you exchange a walk-on part in the war for a lead role in a cage? by ausmuh

01. What would you say your favorite day in history is, or a day you find interesting? If you could, would you travel back in time to experience or witness it? >> I can't think of a specific date I find more interesting than others. Even if I could, I can safely say I would rather not fuck with the already-tenuous fabric of linear time like that.

02. What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever had an obsession with? Do you still like that thing? >> I'm not embarrassed by anything I've had an obsession with. They are all cherished parts of me.

03. Describe the last movie you watched, but do not give its title. The next person who takes this survey must try to guess the film that the previous survey-taker watched. You may give hints, such as the actors and actresses that starred in the film, the director, the year the film was made, etc. Then the guesser has to describe the last movie they watched, and so on and so forth. can't remember the last movie I watched, so I'll just use the last show I watched. it stars Jason Bateman, Michael Cera, Tony Hale, Will Arnett, Portia de Rossi in an early 2000s series about a highly dysfunctional family. >> ^ Arrested Development! Hell yeah, good show. Also this is a genius idea for a question. David Dastmalchian is a struggling TV show host who pulls out all the arcane stops for a pivotal sweeps-week Halloween episode. Nightmare scenarios ensue. 04. If you could draw any place that you could be magically transported into, what would you draw? What would you do there? .

05. Do you have the LiveJournal app downloaded onto your phone? >> I didn't even know LJ had an app. I certainly would not need it.

06. Have you ever played any of the Animal Crossing games? Do you have the new game, or do you plan on buying it? >> I've played New Leaf because Sparrow bought a copy of it when it came out. It isn't the kind of thing that holds my interest for long. Oh, and I've also played Pocket Camp (the phone version).

07. Do you talk to anyone from Xanga or LiveJournal on anything other than those two websites? If so, who do you talk to and through what? >> I do not. 08. Has anyone ever showed up at your doorstep unexpectedly (besides people selling things and Jehovah's Witnesses)? If so, who was the last person to do so, and why were they there? >> This doesn't happen to me. Thank fuck.

09. When was the last time you were nauseous? Do you know what caused the feeling of nausea? >> I don't recall. 10. Are you embarrassed when you make a grammatical error, whether it's in a paper for school, a survey, or a conversation? >> I don't make grammatical errors; if I use nonstandard grammar I'm doing it on purpose and it's not an error, it's just nonstandard. Even if I did make an error, I can't imagine being embarrassed about it. 11. Describe the last outfit you saw that you really liked, or if you want, post a picture. .

12. What was the last late night show you watched? Do you regularly watch these types of shows? Who is your favorite late night TV host? >> I don't watch late night TV, no.

13. What brand of earbuds / earphones do you own? Do you like them? >> My earbuds are Raycon and my headphones are Sony. I do like them, a lot. 14. Did you ever think you were going to get into a car crash? Did you or didn't you, and why did you think this? Were you the passenger or the driver? >> I've witnessed a couple of worrisome moments but I've never seriously thought a crash was imminent.

15. What is the most annoying thing your friend does? Do you ever call them out on it? .

16. Do you have a journal or diary that you write in on a daily or weekly basis? Did you used to keep one as a kid? >> I keep a daily journal in my Obsidian vault. I was very into journalling as a child, yeah.

17. For special occasions, do you make cards for others, or do you purchase them? >> I don't give cards.

18. Do you have difficulty swallowing pills? How often do you take them? >> I don't, but I've definitely met my share of challenging pills. Antibiotics were the fucking worst. As for the second question, I take a birth control pill nightly.

19. In your dreams, do you mostly see things through your own eyes, or do you see yourself through a third person view? >> I assume it's mostly the former.

20. Can you remember the last time you saw a rainbow? >> I cannot.

21. What month of this year has been the best for you so far? What was so nice or special about it? What about the worst month? >> I'm not sure. February was the worst, though. 22. Do you have a Vine account? Who are your favorite Vine users that you follow? >> I never had an account.

23. Have you ever tried poutine? (Have you ever even heard of it?) >> I haven't tried it yet.

24. Do you have any plants or flowers in your house? What kinds? Do you like having plants in your home? >> I don't know, there's a bunch. I personally have two in my room, an aloe and a spider plant. I do enjoy having greenery around. 25. What was the last e-mail you sent in regard to? .

[medea10]

My Review of Zom 100: Bucket List of the Dead

Ooh yeah, I’ve heard about this one. Prior to the announcement of this anime, I heard Gigguk (from Youtube) mention this manga. And here’s me thinking, this is the same guy that praised Oshi no Ko and Frieren before they got anime adaptations. As for when this got the anime adaptation, Viz Media was excited to release this one that there was even an exclusive screening at Anime Expo.

Akira Tendou was a bright-eyed optimist going into his new job fresh out of college. Everyone seemed nice. He had great benefits. There was a chance at meeting famous people in this line of work. And there might have been an opening with a love interest at the office. This enjoyment lasted…8 hours, give or take?!

In reality, this job was hell. Sometimes, you can’t go home for days and work at your desk. The benefits you get…you probably will never use them. The only people you’re in contact with are screaming bosses. And as for that love interest, she’s having an affair with the boss…right in his office. Akira Tendou is so numb to everything now. It’s been three years of this endless hell. Then suddenly…and I do mean really suddenly…

A zombie apocalypse!

Yep, we’re officially in Highschool of the Dead territory. Only difference is that this is with adults, the blood is replaced with vibrant colors, no Matrix boobies, and the author to Zom 100 is still alive here.

Too soon, Medea.

Tendou watched a zombie movie literally the night before this all happened and thought that if he was living through a zombie apocalypse, he wouldn’t have to go to work anymore. And that’s his first thought here. No more work! He gets a day off! First thing he does, he goes to his crush’s home to reveal that he loves her. There, he sees his boss (now zombie-fied). Tendou gives his resignation followed by shoving him out the window. Then he sees his crush (also zombie-fied) and tells her that he loves her. Then bolts the fuck out of there! Now that Tendou is living in a zombie apocalypse, he’s wondering what he should do with his free time. That’s when he goes to a corner store and gets a notebook to make a bucket list. 100 things to do before becoming a zombie. Hence the title of this anime!

Tendou is not alone in this. Along the way, he meets up with his old college friend (Ryuuzaki) who is also trying to live his life for the best during the zombie apocalypse. He meets a girl named Mikazuki who has a bucket list of her own. Only hers is the best way to survive. And near episode 8, we are introduced to Beatrix. She’s a German who has had a fascination with Japanese culture. She’s also the token big-breasted girl that slices up the zombies with a blade. It’s an anime involving zombies, OF COURSE THIS GIRL IS GOING TO LOOK LIKE THAT!

BETWEEN THE SUB AND THE DUB: Viz Media wasted no time assembling together an English dub for this. And several streaming sites got dibs on playing it on a weekly basis including Crunchyroll, Hulu, and even Netflix. And if there weren’t so many damn hiatuses, this anime would have had a spot on Toonami. It will eventually. March 2024 is still better than nothing. I will discuss the several hiatuses that persisted throughout this anime’s run down this review. I’m enjoying hearing both of Tendou’s voice actors getting more roles in the last couple of years. Here’s what you might recognize these folks from.

JAPANESE CAST: *Tendou is played by Shuuichirou Umeda (known for Izumi on Shikimori Isn’t Just a Cutie)

*Mikazuki is played by Tomori Kusunoki (known for Makima on Chainsaw Man, Neiru on Wonder Egg Priority, LLENN on SAO: GGO, Setsuna on Love Live Nijigasaki, and Misha on Misfit of Demon Academy)

*Ryuuzaki is played by Makoto Furukawa (known for Saitama on One Punch Man, Haru on Fruits Basket 2019, Miyuki on Kaguya-sama, Shorter on Banana Fish, and Shourei on 86)

*Bea is played by Minami Takahashi (known for Lucoa on Miss Kobayashi, Megumi on Food Wars, Grey on Black Clover, and Yamada on Eromanga Sensei)

ENGLISH CAST: *Tendou is played by Zeno Robinson (known for Goh on Pokemon Journeys, Hawks on My Hero Academia, Genya on Demon Slayer, Shuuji on Tokyo Revengers, Tooru on Horimiya, and Garfiel on Re:Zero)

*Mikazuki is played by Abby Trott (known for Nezuko on Demon Slayer, Machi on Hunter x Hunter, and Eleanor on Misfit of Demon Academy)

*Ryuuzaki is played by Xander Mobus (known for Motoyasu on Shield Hero, Ren on Persona 5, Juuzou on Blue Exorcist, Benno on Ascendance of a Bookworm, and Momoshiki on Boruto)

*Bea is played by Laura Post (known for Ragyo on Kill la Kill, Nozomi on Love Live, Isabella on The Promised Neverland, Akari on March Comes in…, Diana on Little Witch Academia, and Macrophage on Cells at Work)

SHIPPING: Am I sensing something between Tendou and Mikazuki?

No. Focus on surviving the zombie apocalypse first. Once the zombies are eradicated, then I’ll let my mind swirl around in the shipping category.

DELAY, DELAY, DELAY: Is this the new normal? I’m not going to sit here and pretend I know a thing about getting an anime to air because we all know I don’t. But I still raise my eyebrow when currently airing animes take several weeks off at a time. Normally, when an anime is postponed, it is usually because of a sporting event, a giant news story hits, and the subject matter might be difficult if something tragic just occurred. That was something we went along with and accepted. After the Fukushima disaster in 2011, many animes were postponed. Madoka Magica’s final episodes were supposed to air around that time. But due to the sensitive subject matter, it was postponed for three months. Meanwhile, Pokemon was scheduled to air a two-parter, Team Rocket/Team Plasma special around that time as well. It was postponed. And we never heard from it again. Once again, there were special circumstances.

Moving forward to the 2020’s, Covid affected many animes and their airdates. All through the year 2020, nearly every anime was delayed by one week, several weeks, or would just stop airing for the entire season and start over the following anime season. A Certain Scientific Railgun T had to take several weeks off every now and then during the run. Black Clover and Pokemon took a several-week hiatus. And the fifth season of Food Wars aired a couple of episodes, stopped, and aired again three months later. AGAIN, there were special circumstances.

What the hell happened with Zom 100? I don’t see Covid as a reason and nothing upsetting the Japanese audience. Is this a case where they didn’t finish production on time and the staff was overworked to the point of breaking? Because that’s what it looks to me. I’m not complaining at all. I’m concerned that this is a new normal for staff members for anime. And it’s a shame that this had to happen to the studio and the good people behind it. This is a fairly new studio where this is the only anime to their credit. And suddenly I’m hit with a giant sense of irony with this situation and the first episode.

ANIME CAMEO: Did you catch the voice actors from Zombieland Saga in episode 6? It wasn’t the characters. It was just their voice actors grunting as zombies. Well, it happened. Rewind and listen closely.

ENDING: Just like the end of Highschool of the Dead, this crew goes to familiar territory by stopping in on Tendou’s family. My guess is that there’s going to be a big zombie showdown featuring Tendou, his friends and family, and the townspeople versus the zombies. Will that be the end of the season? Moving right along, they make it to Tendou’s home village. The good news is that his parents are safe as well as some of the villagers. There are even some city folks that escaped the hell going on in bigger cities. The bad news is there are some disgustos in that city folk crowd that have their own ideas for surviving the zombie apocalypse. If Tendou’s list was full of childish dreams and Mikazuki’s list is full of realistic goals, these guys…um…well, there are dark forces that work inside them.

And while the zombies are trapped inside a tunnel away from the surviving humans, one person here doesn’t have that much time left. That person is Tendou’s father. Tendou and his father have never seen eye-to-eye. Will they be able to say their peace before the worst happens? Let’s wait another couple of weeks and months to find out this answer.

CHRISTMAS DAY 2023: Okay, I watched my annual anime movie this year. This year it was Suzume. Ate cookies. Opened presents. Jammed out to some tunes. And crashed. Am I missing anything? Oh wow, Zom 100 came back for a three-episode finale!

Tendou and the gang were getting along with many in the village. Tendou got to know some of the city girls who traveled to the village for safety. Mikazuki got along with the elders of the village as she helped them with some of their ailments. Bea learned a lot about the area. And Ryuuzaki got a little girl traumatized by the recent pandemic to smile for the first time in a while. I’ll be honest, when I saw this little girl with her dog I kept thinking if she was going to go with Tendou and the rest and be that gang’s Alice and Zeke like in Highschool of the Dead. Again, I will keep mentioning that. All of this peace is about to be shattered by those disgustos I mentioned prior to the three-month hiatus. There are four of them; one divorcee, one anal-retentive chick, one forever fat bastard virgin, and the obviously voiced by Nobuhiko Okamoto psychopath. The final guy I mentioned (named Higurashi) actually knew Tendou and Ryuuzaki as they all went to the same college.

Higurashi and the others have their chaos book. They removed the barriers blocking the zombies from entering the village and set everything around it on fire. The four main characters were dealing with each of the chaos agents on their own. Ryuuzaki, Bea, and Mikazuki were able to get past the chaos people. Unfortunately, two of those people wound up dying. One by the zombies and the other got electrocuted. The forever fat bastard virgin was still around by episode 12’s end. As for Higurashi, he brought the zombies to Tendou and told him he yearns to watch him become a zombie. This guy was so amped on wanting to fuck things up that he threatened to have Tendou’s ailing father eaten by the zombies.

Tendou does another impulsive thing. You’ve seen him do crazy shit the last 11 episodes, why stop now?! Tendou turned into a zombie courtesy of one of the hideaways who was a make-up stylist and tricked Higurashi. Unfortunately, things do not end well for Higurashi as he is bitten. Before time was up, Tendou was able to get through to him when learning what he really wanted to do. To be fair, any one of us could have wound up like this guy. Introverts have such the hardest times adapting to “normal” society. And I guess Higurashi envied Tendou and Ryuuzaki during college because they had friends and he was alone. Surprisingly, back then Tendou did make an effort to reach out to Higurashi, but dude ran away from them. Tendou and Higurashi do have this sweet moment before he’s turned into a zombie. Higurashi though ends up drowning in the river as he was turning into a zombie.

Tendou, his friends, and the survivors of the village survived just barely. They went to a suspension bridge that was unfortunately missing. But then, this old guy the group met prior to making it to the village made a collapsible bridge for everyone to get across and prevent the zombies from trailing them. In the aftermath, everyone was able to rebuild the village after that night from hell. Now as for Tendou’s father. I thought for months that this guy got bitten by a zombie. And as I’m watching the final 3 episodes I’m thinking, if he got bitten, it’s taking him a long time to turn into a zombie. But then it sounded like he might have a terminal illness.

Turns out dude has hemorrhoids.

Look, I know hemorrhoids are painful but…yeah, I have nothing to follow up on that. But if it gets so bad that it could be life-threatening, it might be difficult for a doctor to do anything when you’re in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. But, it did spark some ideas for what else to write in Tendou’s bucket list. Next stop for the crew…I guess northern Japan or Hokkaido.

Oh shit, I forgot to mention the shit. Ryuuzaki jumped in the cesspool of shit. He was covered in shit for an entire episode.

Despite the long waits in between episodes, this was a very good story. I’m just really concerned if a season two comes will the audience be subjected to long waits and will the crew be subjected to horrible working conditions? Again, seeing the irony! I think it was that first episode that seemed to strike a chord with a lot of viewers. I think at one point or another, we all find ourselves in a situation much like Tendou. I know it doesn’t have to be a job, but let’s face it, we’ve all had those jobs that tried to break us to the point of no return and you really do wish that some sort of apocalypse hits so you don’t have to go into work the next day. I really hope the anime studios kinda take a hint from this. Looking at you OLM, MAPPA, and BUG FILMS!

While I’m still on the topic of the first episode, I’m not going to lie, I honestly thought the whole zombie apocalypse was going to be a dream of Tendou’s. I can’t be the only person who thought this. He falls asleep watching a zombie movie, wakes up in total chaos, we’re treated to a splish-splash of every color on the spectrum, and Tendou is doing stunts like knock his boss out a several-story window and climbing drain-pipes. I will get a lot of push-back from manga readers for my out-loud comments here, but that’s what I originally thought. With that said, I really hope that this isn’t the intended ending for this story.

Now then, would I happily welcome a second season? Yes. Believe it or not, the several-month hiatus didn’t impact how I felt about this anime. Sometimes it does, but not here. When it returned on Christmas, it almost felt like not much time has passed since the last installment. And just because of this sloppy roll out, it doesn’t necessarily mean that any future seasons will be affected the same way the first season did. It will if the studio doesn’t take a freakin’ lesson from the anime they just put out. It seems like a couple of new characters are introduced after where this season leaves off. So, I’m looking forward to a second season. Thankfully, the manga is still in publication and the creator is alive and well. Sorry, after what happened to the creator of Highschool of the Dead, I am not taking any chances.

Enough from me! Zombie-show fans, you know who you are and we know your fandom isn’t dying off any time soon. Probably check this one out. It’s on Netflix, Hulu, and Crunchyroll, so you have your pick of sites to watch it on. Starting March 30th, 2024, the show will also air on Toonami. And if live-action is more of your thing, Netflix has got that adaptation too.

[dcviated]

salty with a chance of peeveballs :: open

@babelmedicus sent: ♦☀✂

♦ What was a mildly annoying thing that has happened to you rp wise?

Ehhh hmmm. Well. There was a blog who followed me multiple times, so I figured they really wanted to write with me so fuck it lets give em a chance! (foreboding music sting). I tried to get a couple things going with them. Sending asks. A thread that engaged both our (supposed) interests.

And while they remained otherwise active I just waited. Waited. Messaged them like "sup?" and got "sorry busy"

And then it came.

The "ive got too many asks so I'm deleting my inbox 🥺" despite rbing memes on a near weekly basis.

God.

☀ What's your rp pet peeve?

^^^^^^^^^^^^

THAT.

Is my new big huge peeve. When people fish and fish and fish for asks and interactions, answer nothing while making promises of coming activity, and then end up deleting it all anyway going "oops anyway here's another meme (:" it's pretty disingenuous.

RP is a hobby. Absolutely. But you need to have some discipline and honesty with yourself. This hobby is built around our word and if I can't trust yours then I'm not sticking around.

I've cut off a few follows for this now.

✂ A fandom that you feel isn't open and accepting?

Some of the current popular franchises feel like they can be rough to get into. Fi.re Emblem in particular is one that I always had trouble witho despite my OC at the time playing perfectly into the verse. The FE blogs I did write with were my friends already from elsewhere.

That's... more or less still the case actually HA.

I don't really associate with fandom rpc anyway, even if I'm writing muses from said fandom. When I approach blogs it's for the writing first, then the muse. And I've noticed when people follow me explicitly for mine (like they didnt read certain rules).

[joannaderbot]

MY STORY

(19) Things I did for God, and things HE DID FOR ME

I dedicated to God years of my time. Being unable to find a job only helped the process. I began to follow all instructions from the Bible. I changed my worship form Sundays to Saturdays and celebrate only God’s ordained festivals. I stopped eating pork and complied with all other dietary requirements. I remitted tax on cash income received from working (as a part-time assistant) for a friend who was a bus driver. I returned 10% tithe back to God. I did some free weeding services for friends in their gardens. I also bought a harp and played music for Him. I made five extra non-cash offerings and other cash offerings to God. But the "craziest" thing was when I went on the streets and began evangelizing people on one-to-one basis. The desire to evangelize exploded in me from doing it monthly to attending the duty on a weekly basis. Not only this. I also began to write posts on FB and gradually increased my presence in other platforms and was making videos for God. The last thing was/is - I am writing MY STORY.

God was not only teaching and leading me on the highway. He also spoke to me few times with His audible voice and gave me supernatural healing. My depression disappeared instantly in 2015. Moreover, during the entire time since 2015, I had no need to see any doctor regarding sickness or illness. I simply don't get sick or ill anymore. God also gave me good friends. When I digested all books of the Bible and started reading the last book (The Book of Revelation) good news came from Artur's lawyers saying that I can permanently stay in the house, but all the rests of the assets need to belong to my "ex". There was a small shortfall which I had to remit to Artur and the split of our assets would be complete.

Before my "ex" returned, God gave me an instruction through landing my finger on a text (at random) on one of the pages of the Bible. The text read "subdivide the land". God knew that the relationship would never work between me and my ex. And to my stubborn mind, I had to experience it myself the hard way. After Artur returned, nothing worked! I cooked, I baked, I bought him presents, I wanted to go bike riding, I paid for most of the bills. Artur was silent, locked in his bedroom, rejected my food and ended up building his own house on that subdivided land.

SOMETIMES WE WANT SOMETHING WHICH IS AGAINST GOD's WILL. HE STILL GIVES IT TO US BUT IT DOESN"T WORK. I needed to learn how to trust God more. This might have been the hardest but at least I was certain that God is real, and I found Him.

My test on the EXISTANCE OF GOD was completed.

But then something even more fascinating happened.

......

[whatsonmedia]

A Reminder of Why Not All Her

We All Have Heroes That We Watched on Film, But The Real Ones Don't Wear Capes Now we have all seen the films and watched the TV shows which depicted our favourite characters eg; Spiderman, X Men, Power Rangers etc, but let's just stop for a moment and look at some actual real life heroes. In other words the ones that don't wear capes but rather a uniform instead and who genuinely deserve a mark of gratitude By that I mean the ones who we barely took much acknowledgement of, basically I am referring to those very individuals who swoop in, metaphorically speaking, yet still help and occasionally save the dayI am in actual fact referring to everyday people like Doctors, Nurses, Teachers, Soldiers, Carers. Even our own family members and friends. A while ago I was at home watching an episode of The One Show and they were doing an item on child adoption, the children in particular had various disabilities and health aliments. Whenever I have spoken about my involvement in Health and Social Care one thing that I have always been told is that it takes a certain kind of person to be able to do what I, and many others, in that profession do. Over the years, and certainly before I embarked on my work in the field I always looked at others already in that profession as somewhat heroic. Mainly as they pretty seem to do something that not many others would actually consider doing, and no matter just how 'migration inducing' it got they just knuckled down and got on with it. Many even go beyond what is considered to be beyond the call of duty Now if you are looking at this and wondering why I am comparing Health and Social Care work to heroes then let me tell you why I think of it as such.One of the main concepts of heroes, apart from saving lives, is that they help give hope to others, inspire others to become a better version of themselves. So on and so forth This is something that I have long wanted to openly talk about. Go back two years ago just about everyone up and down the country put rainbows in their windows celebrating the bravery and hard work of people on the front line.And the irony of this is that these people didn't wear capes Look at programmes like the Educating… series that they televised on Channel 4. From what I recall seeing there was quite a number of students who either had what many would describe as low self-esteem issues to those who were disruptive. In other words the class room trouble maker but what was even more interesting was that no matter how much the pupils played up the teachers simply never quit and eventually managed to get through to them. Whenever you look at the medical programmes that they show on the BBC there's no holding back on what the staff do there either. 24 Hours in A+E, Hospital. Just look at the clips when the staff talk directly to the camera to tell the viewers exactly what they do, how they go about it as well as the ups and downs of what they do. But most importantly, even though it absolutely exhausts them they still soldier on regardless, and quite often with not much regard to what happens to them physically. Up north you have the docu-series about the police force within the Manchester area. The Force: Manchester. Now I admit that this is something of a guilty pleasure of mine but just check out a single episode and you can see just some of what the cops have to contend with on a weekly basis. Dealing with violent drunks, aggressive individuals who are occasionally under the influence of substance abuse or in the throws of a mental health episode. Now you may not think of them as heroic within that way but on some occasions they've got to deal with someone who others are too intimidated to be near I myself admit that though I don't have that much respect for all of the force I do admire that it takes a heck of a lot of Dutch courage to deal with even a fraction of what they do. In fact for any of them be they teachers, Soldiers, ambulance crew, in fact those who bravely face the day when the going gets tough yet just do it regardless. Total respect and are definitely heroes in the eyes of many Read the full article

[your-fave-is-bi]

Someone in my first last wish complimenting me on my communication, praising me for it bc it prevented a wipe mechanic:

Me fuckin incapable of speaking in a normal way: i ponch. Knights had to be dead ON. SIGHT.

[fuck-customers]

I recently just had my last day at my server job (yay!) and now I feel I can finally complain about some of my most annoying regulars.

There’s this couple who are apparently old friends with the owners and they would either dine in or order delivery on about a weekly basis. Now they’re definitely not the worst people out there, but the fact they were regulars made the little things add up over time. Those include:

- They would always call/come in right before closing and claim they “didn’t know we were closing”. Like seriously they have been coming in for decades at this point and always play dumb. You damn well know our hours, please respect them. They keep doing this because my boss too often gives them slack since they’re friends (tho tbh even she was starting to get fed up with it at the end and started turning them away).

- The wife claims to have a “super duper deadly” allergy to tomatoes and always rants to the person taking her order about it. Like I said, they’re regulars, so I’ve heard her script probably hundreds of times. I say claims to be allergic because we’re clearly an Italian restaurant, so she’s well aware of the high risk of cross contamination. Plus her husband always gets things with tomatoes AND she has no problem gobbling down french fries (potatoes and tomatoes are very closely related for those who don’t know). I personally liked to give her the benefit of the doubt, but half the staff just thought she didn’t like the taste, but sure liked being dramatic.

- They’re shitty tippers. I’ll maybe get $3 (10%) and the drivers are lucky to get anything at all. And yes, that includes on their orders placed after closing.

- AND FINALLY the one that pisses me off the most: they call me “Britt” every time they come in. My name is not “Britt”. I worked there 5 years, most of the time in my early years introducing myself to every table. My boss will commonly use my name when talking to them, and when my boss is there they’ll even use the right name too. But if my boss isn’t there, it’s just “Britt”. I am fully convinced they did it just to mess with me.

I actually liked my time working as a server, but these two I definitely won’t be missing!!

[whyareyouhere66]

Dally x Fem Reader - The One That Got Away

Dallas x Fem Reader [but it’s very easy to imagine it as gender nuetral, or male as it is in 1st person. Just replace a couple of words such as girl, and queen with whatever. (Y’know? Y’know)

Angst

Song Fic

[The One That Got Away - Brielle Von Hugel]      *or Katy Perry, literally the same song*

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, cheating, smoking. Very much unedited. 

Summer after high school, when we first met

We were both about 15 years old, when we met. Just about a year before he dropped out, and he had caught my eye right away. Despite his “reputation”, I knew I wanted to know him better. So that’s what I did.

We'd make out in your Mustang to Radiohead

And on my *16th birthday, we got matching tattoos

We clicked almost instantly, much easier than I had anticipated. And since then,we’ve been great friends, doing the most stupid shit imaginable.

Used to steal your parents' liquor and climb to the roof

Talk about our future like we had a clue

Never planned that one day, i’d be losing you

It was at one of Buck’s parties, that I learned of her.

We were both tipsy, sneaked away from the ruckus of Buck’s living room and up onto the roof of the house with a bottle of whiskey and a couple of kools.

Even with the alcohol coursing through my blood stream, I could hear the way his voice lifted when he said her name. “Sylvia”

In another life, I would be your girl

We'd keep all our promises, be us against the world

Right before I turned 16, we made a promise to each other. We were partners in crime, best buds. And while that did hurt a bit, I knew it was the best I could get.

But what I didn’t know, is how easily those promises could be broken.

In another life, I would make you stay

So I don't have to say you were the one that got away

Cause just like that, I wasn’t his favorite girl anymore. If he wasn’t at Buck’s, with the gang, in jail or with me then he was with her. And even when he wasn’t with her, he’d talk about her.

All of the time.

The one that got away…

I’m losing him, and I didn’t like it…

I was June and you were my Johnny Cash

Never one without the other, we made a pact

Sometimes when I miss you, I put those records on

I haven’t talked to him in a good week, hauled off to jail again. We weren’t as close as we used to be, but the songs we used to listen to together still played on the radio on a weekly basis. Just the memories hidden in those lyrics could comfort me, distract me for even a second.

Yet, it still wasn’t enough.

Someone said you had your tattoo removed

Saw you downtown singing the blues

Sylvia had yet again cheated on him, not giving a shit he was in the cooler-thinking about her. And he knew it damn well.

So I just couldn’t understand, why he kept running back to her, time and time again?

Never planned that one day, I’d be losing you

Especially when, I was right here, standing with my arms and heart wide open…

In another life, I would be your girl

And we'd keep all our promises, be us against the world

It wasn’t the same, as when we were 15. The tattoos, we’d gotten. Two playing cards, his the king of Spades, and mine the queen. Will mind was the symbol of our promise- his, despite being the only one he had, was just but a drawing.

In another life, I would make you stay

So I don't have to say you were the one that got away

The one that got away

I was no longer his queen. Maybe a Jack, or an ace. A 10, perhaps?

All this money can't buy me a time machine, no

I can't replace you with a million rings, no

Sylvia had no idea how lucky she was. Dallas, albeit a bit rough around the edges, was like none other. Shitty guy, sure, but he was a good friend when it came down to it. He could come through, i haven’t met many who could.

I should've told you what you meant to me, no

'Cause now I pay the price…

Back before Sylvia, when I had a chance. Why didn’t I take it? It was foolish, I was too much of a coward. And I see that now.

'Cause in another life, I would be your girl

We'd keep all our promises, be us against the world

We could’ve still been partners in crime. We could’ve been up on Buck’s roof again, drinking whiskey and talking shit about people.

In another life, I would make you stay

So I don't have to say you were the one that got away

We could’ve stolen from that old diner across town again, like when we were 14. We could’ve been friends still, possibly even more.

The one that got away

But I let him go

The one that got away (no)

And by the looks of it…

The one that got away

I wasn’t gonna get him back.

[catgirlforkaeya]

if you wrote kaeya domestic headcanons my heart will MELT 💓

domestic kaeya hcs

kaeya x gn!reader

fluff + modern au

warnings: all lowercase + not proofread + slightly suggestive (it’s not a lot just very vague implications)

a/n: ask and you shall receive anon 🙏

i’m gonna use the friends to lovers roommate edition here because i absolutely love that trope

you and kaeya have been friends for quite awhile. in college you both were sick of living in your dorms so you decided to rent an apartment together

kaeya is actually a really good roommate. ik a lot of ppl will probably disagree with me but i feel like he’d be great— very respectful of your privacy

he cooks breakfast for you. like even before you two got together he started making it for you. if you weren’t awake yet he would come in and wake you up. little did you know it was him trying to send hints that he likes you

literally the most flirty roommate there is i swear to god

he does your laundry for you. this doesn’t need anymore explaining LOL

you two definitely fight over the remote and what to watch on a weekly basis. you tried a thing where you two take turns each night but that always fails because you forget who’s turn it is

if one of you is swamped in work then the other will bring them stuff life coffee, tea, snacks, that sort of stuff

before you two started dating & sharing a room, if one or both of you were wide awake you’d go to the other’s room and give each other some company :,)

coincidentally enough the night you two confessed to each other it was when you couldn’t sleep. you’d gone to kaeya’s room since you couldn’t sleep and he was also awake. you two got into a deep conversation and he eventually confessed his feelings to you. that was the first night you two actually slept together (kehehehe)

once you two started dating kaeya got very clingy. sometimes he’d text you in the middle of the night to come over because he missed you (even though his room is literally right next to yours 💀)

other times he’d just crawl into bed with you. it scared the shit out if you the first time but you didn’t mind it afterwards. it was actually kinda nice randomly waking up in his arms LOL

after awhile you two decided on just sharing the same room and bed. you two went with using your bedroom as the new one since it was bigger. you two got rid of a bunch of unnecessary items (some were sold & others were put into storage) then bought a brand new bed that was bigger. ever since that day you two have woken up next to each other every morning :D

i feel like kaeya has rly bad insomnia so he’s awake most nights— if you suffer with it too then it’s perfect because you can keep each other company in the night & distract your minds from everything. you’ll usually turn on the tv and watch a show while talking to each other until you wear each other out

you two shower together a lot. kaeya was the one to suggest it (ofc) saying that it would save water and cut down your water bills. you knew he had ulterior motives but agreed anyways because you actually wanted to shower w him for awhile

honestly i feel like you two wouldn’t really get much done in the shower because he’d be too busy covering you in kisses but it’s fun nonetheless 💀

aside from all of his teasing he’d be helpful— like putting shampoo in your hair & giving small scalp massages, lathering you w/ body wash and giving you small praises :,)

lots and lots of cuddling and hugs at basically all times of the day. first thing in the morning right as you woke up? at least 15 minutes of extra cuddling. washing the dishes after breakfast? kaeya will come up behind you & wrap his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. watching tv on the couch? you’ll always end up resting your head on kaeya’s lap or in his arms. working on stuff for your job? kaeya will come in and pull you against his chest & play w your hair as you work, or vice versa and you’ll do that to him.

these are very scattered but overall moral of the story kaeya is a very clingy roommate but also the best one (& best boyfriend)

i will probably add onto this occasionally!!

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