#there's a donation drive going on right now too. there are donation boxes on the 1st floor they could've put it in

[calware]

someone in my dorm tried to throw away a perfectly good vacuum cleaner 😐

[totaly-obsessed]

Could you write for Ella where reader is also a footballer but reader tears her ACL

Jersey Dispute

Ella Toone x reader request

-> Reader tears her ACL - sending Ella into panic - fluffy

-> probably not the correct timeline of a healing ACL

-> Combined with this request!

-> I hope this is okay, @ anon's!

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Ella hated knees. She really did.

Your girlfriend had been on the pitch, not too far away from you when you had gone down in a Manchester derby. Forgotten was the color of your shirt as Ella rushed to you. To her surprise you weren’t crying, you just sat there, waiting for the medics. “I tore it.” Those words still haunt her in her sleep.

You had waited for her outside of the changing room and together you slowly walked to the car. The ride was tense, the brunette not too sure how to approach the situation, but you cracked joke after joke, trying to loosen her up.

Sure this was bad, you knew it meant nearly a year of no football for you but in the end, there was nothing that you could do right now – you were just glad that the World Cup was just over, giving you a slim chance of getting ft for the Olympics.

Waiting for the surgery was the worst but Ella gave it her best to fill the house with laughter. And she did it fabulously. Quite a few of you and her teammates showed up, wanting to see how you were doing, which led to many fun evenings playing Mario Cart and watching movies.

After a month, it finally came; the surgery to make everything worse so that you could get better again. Your girlfriend was nervous, much more than you were, running around in circles in your hospital room. She had taken the week off from training and everyone understood that she wanted to be with you.

“Ella, please baby sit down. You’re driving me nuts!” With a shamed look, she sat down in a chair next to your bed, hands pressed between her knees but she couldn’t hold it, jumping up again, going back to pacing. 

“Ells, please…” You patted the space next to you, scooching over so that she fit. Now wrapped in your arms, tucked under a blanket she was finally able to breathe. “I’ll go into surgery in two hours when no emergency comes in. Mary will be here so-“ You could see her trying to defend herself, that she didn’t need a babysitter, but you put your hand over her mouth. “Shhh. Mary will come and you will go eat something. Then I‘ll come out of surgery and everything will be absolutely fine.”

Mary had arrived just in time when they took you for surgery so that she could take your frantic girlfriend out.

Just as you had predicted, everything had been fine.

Now, nearly a month later you had started physio-therapy and rehab at the Manchester City facility, leaving Ella to worry at Manchester United – so you called her every time you could to reassure her.

In the evenings it was hard for your girlfriend to let you help her cook. “Love, no! Sit back down, hmm?” Most of the time she just kidnapped you to the living room, sat you down on the couch, and went back to cook.

It was great, being able to spend so much time with your girlfriend and being able to catch up on Uni work – you loved it, Ella loved it, everybody loved it. The bickering was kept to a minimum with evenings spent curled up in each other’s arms. It was perfect, almost too perfect…

Nearly two months of pure bliss were interrupted by the first disagreement.

Manchester derbies were ferocious and the atmosphere electric, they were great. Ella saw your inability to play the match, as her opportunity to get you to wear her very red ‘Toone’ jersey. “Babe – pleaseee! You’ll look so good in it!” She had flung open the bedroom door, where you were currently sorting through the huge closet for clothes to donate. In her hands was a huge box, containing a whole stack of her shirts. “Ells we’ve been over this. I will not wear a Man United jersey.”

The brunette was whining and pouting letting the box fall to the ground, eventually flinging herself on the bed – desperate to get your attention. But you prevailed, having your back towards your girlfriend helping with that. You couldn’t cave – no way. “Quit it, Ella.”

Oof. That first name hit.

“But Baby-“ She was quickly shut up with a deep kiss after you had finally turned around, gracing the stunned midfielder with your attention. “I’ll wear your England jersey, yeah?” and with a pat to her cheek, you were gone again, leaving a stunned Ella behind.

Gameday came and Ella played her best game of the season – a hat trick and an assist, beating Manchester City four to one. Her motivation? You. Sat in the family section wearing an England jersey that had her name on the back.

And while you were sad that your team lost, there was just no way you could be mad when a grinning Ella came out of the changing room, match ball in hand, falling into your open and waiting arms, littering your face in tiny kisses.

“Ya’ gonna have to wear this every game day now – would’ve been better in a United shirt though.” With a disgusted groan, you shoved her off, but there was no chance to get the teasing smirk off her face for the whole day.

Five months later it was Ellas' turn to sit in the family section, wearing an England jersey with your name. Her legs bounced up and down, nervously waiting for you to get subbed on.

When you did, she couldn’t do anything else but grin – seeing you back on the pitch, knowing how hard you worked for this made her prouder than she had ever been.

She blissfully ignored Alessia taking a video of you coming on for Alanna Kennedy, and then turning the camera to a teary-eyed Tooney, clutching your jersey in her hands.

[tookthe-405]

On our way

Chapter 1 :

We’ll keep falling on each other

DONATIONS & LINKS 🇵🇸

DAILY CLICK🍉

Loser!ellie x ex-bsf!reader

ROADTRIPPPP

authors note: first chapterrr🤪 ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE SO PLS

And pls tell me if the chapters should be shorter and what kind of perspective I should write from (Ellie pov will come later when I’ll fit), LONG AF

Summary: modern Jackson au!

you and Ellie were best friends through your childhood. Now your just neighbours who act like enemies towards each other, but after an incidence you both decide to run away together.

Joel lives 💯

warnings: anxiety , Panik attack?, alcohol, smoking, feeling of throwing up (only mentioned once) smut in future chapters!!, chaotic and stupid arguing between reader and Ellie, school anxiety, messy af (I mostly write at night when the demons come out🐺)

(ellie is 18 and reader is 17 (soon 18))

Readers pov:

6/25

You couldn’t remember the fall out.

For a matter of fact you couldn’t remember anything that happened that night.

You just knew that the next morning Ellie and you weren’t friends anymore. You guys weren’t anything, just total strangers who knew more about each other than any other.

“Iced Coffee and 4 chocolate donuts should be your order”

Your head snaps up and an older guy holds out a bag of donuts.

“Yes, thank you”

You quickly scurry out of the waiting crowd, out the dinner and into the summer air.

2:25 p.m. If Jody would finally pick you up, the both of you might only be 10 minutes late to the game.

While you're waiting, you take a donut out of the bag and realize as you're eating that you don't have a cold ice coffee in your other hand.

"Fuck”

you really wanted that coffee, and by any normal logic you should just go back.

But the fear of embarrassment won. so you decide to just wait outside without a coffee, feeling the dizziness of the lack of sleep in your brain.

The day before was the last exam and you couldn’t sleep the whole night, because of your anxious thoughts that are so unjustified that it’s actually embarrassing.

you watched the cars drive by, as you wait for Judy to pull over.

Today was the last school day. Ever. This morning was the last morning you would ever be in a high school class room to study.

After waiting for a while you hear the horn of Judy`s car or rather her parents car, since both of you are broke and only one of you has their license.

"i forgot my coffee" you complain as you collapse into the passager seat.

"yeah but you didn`t forgot the donuts and thats the really important thing here" Jody happily takes the box full of donuts, out of your hand

"footbal games always stress me out" you rummage through your bag, looking for gumm or just something that will help your body through this hard time.

"i hope my exams were good" you tell her anxious.

"It was our last fucking day, dont worry about something that is over soon. Those last days don`t really matter no one cares"

"I do"

Judy scoffs, puting the donute to her mouth again, all while looking at the street.

"I know, thats your problem. Really, you need to fix that. Your grades are amazing and whatever college you wanna go to, will say yes."

Now you scoff.

"right then why haven’t they replied yet then?"

"because you were too anxious too send your application, you almost threw up in my room"

Your face contorts at the memory. Judy's poor cat hissed at you the whole time because you couldn't sit still at all.

"yeah sorry he gets like that, but not all cats are this easy to annoy i swear"

Your giggle fills the car and you share the last donute, as judy tries to find a parking spot which is obviossly not that easy anymore.

"goddamit those wild people are so greedy" her hands grab the steerig wheel harder, but theres simply no other free spot anymore.

You grow even more annoyed now.

The thoughts in your head take more space than you usually allow them.

The whole morning was shit, the whole day is shit and your life is fucked if you don’t get into university.

"i think we need to use the other one" judy says

"then we`ll have to run through the whole fucking school, were already late, Malik is playing!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she looks at you, thinking, and finally sighs.

"get out I’ll park the car" You immediantly regret snapping at her.

"you dont have to-"

she interrupts you (no suprise)

"bro get out of my car. It’s my fault we`re too late anyway and we both know im only here for the fries"

For a few seconds you hesitate, but then you grab your bag and the donut, and get out the car. Outside, a warm brise tickles your skin, now that the sun is shining right on your face. You pinch you eyes.

Judy dissapers around the corner and you wave, hoping she saw it, but the worry leaves with her because you start running towards the football field.

The whole row was full, every seat. You try to push your way through the crowd on the front, which didn't make it any easier because everyone was pushing forward against the bar to see better.

And it was so loud, every type of noises from every angle. This is your last game of course everyone will be loud, Jesus you’ll be loud, but the game hasn’t even started.

Arriving in the almost last row, Lyla waves to you and you sprint towards her.

"I don't know how you manage to save us seats, thank you so much," You almost scream, because the large group sitting behind her started singing the fucking national anthem.

lyla quickly hugs you and sits right back down. "I don't know how either, but here you go. Where's Judy?"

Her gaze wanders behind you to look out for her, as if judy is hiding behind you "Looking for another parking spot and getting us some fries"

You feel the light box in your hand and remember the one donut inside it.

“Here we’ve left you a donut”

“How generous” lyla replies smirking

Your attention turns to the football field. No one’s there.

“Everyone is still in the cabins, you're not as late as you think" she adds while slurping her milshake.

Malik is Lylas brother and a good friend of yours. Even Judy likes him, and that's saying something.

After the "incident" you tried so hard to find another group of friends, that one day it actually happened.

Which wasnt easy, before ellie you didnt relly need other friends. You also didnt want other ones. You always thought she felt the same way.

Her company, her words, her feelings and thoughts were all you wanted.

"Holy shit im not late!"

Judy's loud voice pulls you out of your thoughts. She quickly sits down next to you and hands you the large french fries package. You grin at her and pass them on to lyla. The loud noises became quieter and quieter, which made you hear the microphone voice.

"Dear seniors and juniors, After weeks full of learning and exams, one last football game with our beloved team and a guest team of their choice should be enough for you. I don't understand why you wanted to have this when every one of you’ve seen so many other games, but as you want. That’s the last one really though, please."

Judy giggles at the voice of the principal, but with empathy rather than mockery.

"Poor Ms. Servopoulos, juniors and seniors are not easy. The Other Class's prank surpassed everything"

lylas eyes widened at the memory. "Which of the 20 One?" She asks, leaning a bit over my lap to hear judy better.

"The one where they all had their tables outside at the_" Judy's bright voice gets stuck in the air, and she looks past me with squinted eyes in dismay.

You know why and didn't want to turn around.

But you do it anyway.

She wore her typical short baggy shorts and a red oversize t shirt with a fucking beanie , which makes her look like the love child of Adam Sandler and Jesse Pinkman.

You’d be happy to laugh at her if she didn't look so fucking good. But you chuckle a bit in your head at the Beanie, because it’s fucking june.

She looks down at you , just standing there.

Ellie has always been a bit taller than you. You might be sitting right know, but you still know That hasn't changed yet. You don't have to get up to be sure. You would notice if she grew even 1 cm. You don't know if she would still recognize that about you.

The familiar, soft and light brown freckles on her face. As a tween you always wanted to connect them, to find out how it would turn out. Or how she would look. Or react. You wanted to make her laugh so bad it hurt.

"Seth told me to bring this too you"

The Ice Caffee, with your name on it, is suddenly right in front of your face.

"Why should I accept it? It's already warm anyway" The irritated pitch in your voice cannot be ignored

Elie's gaze remains neutral, but there was some caution in her expression. "He forced me when I was paying, just take it and throw it away."

"Why didn't you throw it away?"

"Because im at a point where I listen to that old man for my benefits. Seth hates me already. He didn't even tell me about the senior special last week" she protests

You roll your eyes in annoyance.

"i dont give a shit about you or the now hot coffee"

Your argument became more intense, Judy and lyla exchanged glances but stayed out of it. You want to sort out your shit yourself and they know that.

"just fucking throw it away ellie!"

"No, I'm sitting at the top and have to go down all the fucking stairs and-"

"I don't care Ellie"

The people around slowly became aware of the both of you screaming, and you wonder for a second how strange you both must look right now. How you line up like little kids. But ellie also hurt the child version of you. God she has hurt so fucking many versions of you.

"just be happy that I’m even bringing this too you, i didnt really had to do that"

Her hand holds the plastic cup so hard in front of your face that it looks like it's about to explode.

The fact that she thinks she has a right to be angry with you bothers you even more, as you try to hold back your tears. You try to imagine her as adam sandler, screaming at you in this fucked up voice from grown ups, to make the tears go away.

"right i didn’t ask you to do anything, you decided to be so stupid and come over here"

she chuckles sligtly at your words, really pissed now. "you bitch-"

The last words never came out of her mouth. But the coffee out the cup. On your shirt.

Frightened, you take a loud breath in and stand up. Ellie has already put a safe distance between the both of you and her own mouth is open with surprise and startle.

Behind her stands a paralyzed Joshua, with his hand on his mouth.

"I swear, he ran into me...," she babbles desperately to herslef, waving her hands in the air, the empty cup on the floor now. Looks like the rest of the liquor soaked your shoes.

Yo didn’t let her finish. You mumble to lyla and judy not to follow you and that you would call them later. You grabbed your bag and Then left.

And you cried the whole ride home with your mom next to you. And not because of the coffee.

The smoke comes out of your mouth, you take the ciggarette to you lips again, and breathe in deeply.

If you smoke in your room, you always have to lean almost completely out of the window, now with the shadows of the trees falling in your face.

The light, split by the limbs, danced to the movements of the branches. There was a small and almost sweet breeze in the air.

The sun is still shining, but the golden hour is almost here.

You get goose bums on your arm as a cold breeze comes, and you put out the cigarette on your ashtray.

As you lie down on your bed and just stare at the wall for a while, the dark smell of cigarettes is still in the air. your parents don't care as long as it doesn't get into the rest of the house.

You grab a book from your bedside table and start reading.

"And when you at last find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter- they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped darek inside yous so long"

You close the book with a jerk.

Yes, maybe no sylvia plath for today.

The buzzing of your phone makes your head move to the side.

Judy: Malik won

Judy: Tonights a party at the beach, everyones going

Your eyes stare back into the void of your ceiling.

Ellie has had so much influence over you and your feelings for so long, that has to stop at some point. And with all the anger in you, you think that today it will.

You get up and stand in front of your closet, you rummage around to find something and you do. A t shirt that belonged to ellie.

Your fingers brush over the dark green material. It was a fucking normal t shirt. Except that it wasn't.

"Today it will stops"

You put the t-shirt in your backpack and look for an outfit that was well suited for the beach. In the end, you wear short jeans shorts, where your grandma had sewn in flower patterns years ago, With a light blue shirt it goes nicely with the flowers.

you: can you pick me up?

Judy: I would love too :)

You quickly brush your teeth to get rid of the smell of smoke. Outside, you can already hear Judy's honking. You sprint down the stairs with your backpack and look for your beach shoes.

"Where are you going" Your mother is standing behind you with her arms crossed. In her old cardigan, she looked like she did a few years ago and you almost get a déjà vu.

"A party, Judys picking me up"

"how long are you gonna be there?"

"Mom im going to be 18 in what now 4 days you dont have to ask me that anymore"

she scoffs

"yes i do and guess what? i also want you to text me So i know youll be fine"

Nervously, you look out to see if Judy's car is still there, maybe she thinks you've changed your mind.

"Ok, Mom, I'll probably go to Judy's and be gone till midnight."

Suspiciously, she looks at you from head to toe, but (luckily) gives in.

"okay but please call me if something happens. Be smarter than your brother"

Your body flinches at the mention of him. "Has… he called lately?" you murmur

She looked at the floor and you thought for a moment she was going to cry. "No, but maybe if you call him, he'll answer"

You nod, but you know you won't do it.

He doesn't care about you either.

~

"I'm proud that you're coming along" Judy and you are walking, with beer in your arms, towards the beach where a few people have already gathered.

"I mean, that was a great show, a few people definitely noticed it"

You sigh at the unpleasant memory. "Then that's the way it is, I think a few other things are going to happen tonight, that are far more interesting than a girl with coffee on her T-shirt"

"I hope so" A mischievous smile on her face.

You look around to find lyla and malik, But because of all the people, it doesn’t really work. You were sure that there weren't that many seniors and juniors, but that a few friends of others came along. There was a big fire and even a barbecue.

After wandering around for a while, you find the two siblings. They had already made themselves comfortable on the big blanket and had taken some alcohol with them, but the bottles will probably spread over the whole beach anyway.

"Finally I see you, everything ok with you?" Malik mentions as he stands up, giving you a vigorouslyhug. "Really fucked up what happened"

You digress with a wave of your hand and sit down

"im fine, but you won, tell me abou it!" You try to make your voice as shrill as possible to make it clear that you don't want to talk about it.

“oh yeah we won, I made a touchdown, obviouly"

"almost didn’t catch it tho" throws lyla into the round and you giggle.

"Shut up, we only won our last game Ever, Because of me!”

Pride, but also the quiet pain of the loss of his team, can be noticed on his face andin his voice. The reality that you try so hard to run away from hits you again. high school is over, real life begins now.

“whatever, im getting something to drink and then im gonna tell sam to put on some music” Lyla ties you back into the moment. "I'm going with you , I need a drink of Voda-Coke"

~

Later that night Mr. Brightside was what got you on your feet and into the crowd.

Mesmerizingly, the fire flares higher and leaves just light trail of smoke behind. Malik and Judy are now singing along loudly with the others.

All these people who so clumsily sing the song about a heartbroken man, as if they would die if they don't do it, carry the same fate with them. They will all wake up tomorrow with a headache and worries about the next day. as it is one day closer to real life.

Some have broken families or parents, complicated friends, grief and draining fear of the future.

Knowing that it was like that but everyone was still singing along motivates you to do it too.

"Here more vodka has to work not taste good" Judy pours more vodak into your cup, but misses more than ends up in it.

Now you just laugh, because why did you thought so long about everything, this night was a good decision.

"I need to dance like I physically need to dance"

She grabs Malik's arm as he pours more beer next to her.

“let’s danceee!"

Lyla stands next to you, grinning and sober, and you both watch her.

"he likes her"

Lyla explains

"I know" you reply.

“That’s fucked up”

She looks a bit worried, as she watches the two of them dance and sing, with her arms crossed

"is that bad? or are you the "dont date my fucking brother" type of girl, please dont be by the way its always a bit-"

Your brain is mush, your tongue works on its own and Lyla obviously didn't like that

"no of course not, i don't care about him or who he dates"

The light from the fire reflected on her skin, she looked like a painting drawn at sunset and you wished you had your camera with you. It would be a shot of a very sad girl, with a lot of repressed feelings that she will never explain to a human soul.

But she didn't have to, because you understand.

You once looked at someone like that, from a distance where these looks were not visible to the person, where they were safe.

Comforting her was your first thought, dumb decision because a drunk person comforting a sober one never works out.

"I'm sure judy likes you back"

Alarm bells could be seen in her eyes.

"shut up you don't know that"

you laugh but it sounds unstable.

“No your right I don’t”

It looked like a lot of fun, everyone singing and drinking away their worries, you just wanted to join the dancing crowd when you see her. Again.

Fast an quickly, just ignore her, act like you didn’t see her.

But your eyes lock with hers and your stomach sinks.

In that moment you wish you could just admit that Ellie will always be a part of your mind. Wherever you are, with whomever, she will always appear In your mind and she will haunt you.

The worst thing is that it was also your fault, you allowed this relationship to be far too deep and perplexed even though you knew that it was becoming too emotional.

Ellie's presence on the other side of the fire, fills you with all those deeply buried feelings, as if she dug them up with her own hands. As if you told her where you buried them.

“I really don't understand you two"

with a snap you arrive back on planet earth.

"what?"

"the both of you. starring at each other, like you're about to run through fire to be just a bit closer. Makes me want to puke" lyla repeats.

Disbelief and vulnerability spreads through your chest and all those lights are too bright, the music is too loud and Ellie is too close.

"It's ok to forgive, we don't even know what happened so be honest, how bad was it?"

brushing all those feelings off, or at least trying to, you turn around and disappear into the darkness.

In a kind of trance you push your way through the many people, a few call after you, and you are sure that you have run into someone. You just didn't notice anything about it.

You stop in front of the many cars. You used to drive with your father to the local supermarket or other short distances, but you're not willing to steal a car.

Your head turns to the right then left, looking for something, anything that will take you away from here.

Cars, skateboards and bicycles.

Without thinking about it, you grab an unchained bike and get on it. The adrenaline in your veins works on its own and has far too much influence on your body.

It took some time to get stable on it, because the tears in your eyes made it difficult to see. Nobody seems to have noticed that you ran away and that you are riding a bike that doesn't belong to you.

The road was pitch black dark.

The warm summer wind wipes your tears away, the bright street lights of the city can be seen in the distance.

You step on the pedals and realize that you have arrived on the local road.

Out of breath, you press your fingers on the brake lever.

Desperately trying to get your lungs to return to normal, mind concentrate on the outline of your shadow that was visible on the floor, because of the street lanterns.

You get off the bike in silence, put it down next to you on the sidewalk and sit down.

The pumping of your veins feels like electricity.

You could still hear a few cars in the background.

You brush away strands of hair from your forehead.

“Fuck” you hear yourself whisper.

The tears were just about to come back when you hear a car turning.

She still drives Joel's old truck.

The vehicle stops in front of your feet and you notice that some of the light green paint has rusted off.

That wasn't the case the last time you saw that thing.

Ellie slams the car door loudly behind her, so she looks back to see if everything is still fine.

The feeling of shame just bubbles out of you and drips onto the floor, as she steps in front of you with even louder steps.

your head lifts up just a bit, to look at her. Her nose is a bit crooked and she's breathing just as fast as you were a few seconds ago, it looks a bit like she was running after you.

“What the fuck are you doing”

Ellie Williams will always come from the far corner of the world and remind you that you will never let go of her.

The effects of the alcohol still had an influence on your brain, so you stay calm.

“calming down"

For a few seconds it's eerily quiet, for a moment you thought Ellie had left again, but the squeaking of her sneakers prove the opposite. Her body settles down next to you.

"You look really stupid, sitting here like that."

You scoff mockingly.

"yes, that's exactly why you're sitting next to me bitch"

"don't fucki-"

"Don’t act so innocent, remember what you said today before you spilled my coffee on my shirt”

Her head turns to you, sweet regret and longing in her moss green eyes. She scans the bike next to you.

"i think i stole that" the embaressment goes up your cheeks.

"yeah totally badass, but we have to bring that back later" she chuckles softly.

The bright beam of light from the lantern above you gives her face an bright tint , like the beach sun always did in the evening.

"sorry... about the coffee, joshua ran into me and-"

"Yes, I know you've said that before"

She drops her head. No idea why she's sitting here, but you don't mind. you just wanted to capture her and keep her close to you, like a butterfly.

"your brother called me" Ellie mentions it so casually that it shocks you to the bone.

He can even call her but not you. After she just sat down, you were as close as ever.

"what did he say"

"He wants us to come visit him."

Her pupils were large, but you assumed it was because she just drove a dark route and not because she was high. She's way too lucid to be high.

"why? and why the both of us?"

Ellie shrugs her shoulders cluelessly

"He said that we would like Florida, that he was getting a new apartment next week and that we should visit him. You didn't tell him anything about me?"

"I haven't told him anything Ellie, we haven't been able to get in touch with him for months"

You can clearly see from her expression that it makes as little sense to her as it does to you, which worries you even more. something is wrong.

You can feel how your hands shaking, you tried to tell yourself that your just cold.

"Alex said that he tried to call you and your parents, but the line never got through, fuck he even reached Joel"

You continue to shake and Ellie gently grabs your shoulder like she has often before, when you were lost in your head, when you were so afraid of roller coasters that you almost vomited or when you cried because Alex moved out 3 years ago.

Ellie's own security was always an anchor for you, when things got too confusing she strengthened you and even though you didn't talk to each other for almost a year, she still decided to tell you that your brother was fine.

That he wants you with him.

Sometimes, on the particularly melancholic nights when loneliness and nostalgia take over, you read Sylvia's poems and it just clicks. That all because this girl with her hair that is way too short and her pants that are way too big and her full lips, her unhealthy obsession with the universe and planets, exists on the same time as you.

“There’s gonna be a explanation or a reason whatever but just calm down for now okay?”

her voice is suppressed but still safe. yes the Ellie Anchor effect, fuck that shit

“Okay yes your right what the fuck”

“Yeah I can be right sometimes”

“ I Doubt that”

Her lips pucker upwards and yours follow suit. you are still too close to each other, it all feels too new and yet too nostalgic.

The old patterns gave your heart a little sting, you quickly shook off her hand on your shoulder. You clear your throat, thanking the universe or whoever there is that it's night.

Otherwise Ellie wouldn't have been able to miss your red cheeks. In your mind you beat yourself up because you still feel this way after everything she did.

"Show me your phone"

Your hand goes protectively to your back trouser pocket. "um no?!"

Ellie Scoffs thinking your joking, but when she sees that you’re serious, she laughs.

"just give it? the fuck do you think im gonna do"

"I don't know"

With a little nudge to your foot, she gives you that look again that shows trust and you give in.

"fine"

It's a little painful for you, this morning you had a mental crisis because of her, now you letting her scroll through your contacts.

"yeah, sorry to disappoint you, but this is not your bros number"

But that must be his.

Your parents gave it to you.

Oh.

"show me" you said firmly, having a really fucked up scenario in your head, about why this is the wrong number.

Ellie takes out her phone and shows you your brother's contact. chats, phone calls, everything is there. the one from this week too.

"this doesn't make any sense, I just- I don't get it"

"Your parents gave you the number?"

You nod, "My mom said, a few Months ago he had to change his number, in the beginning we texted a bit but never really called"

your eyes switch from her phone to yours to check the numbers again and again .

"After a few days, he didn't get in touch at all, with no one. We thought he was just done with his old life." you pronounce the words and your stomach turns.

Ellie's eyes stare thoughtfully at the asgap in front of you. You're helplessly trying to build up eye contact to figure out what you're thinking.

"I think they lied to you… He said something like this could happen" She says it so fucking sure.

You couldn't take in any more and you get up with your eyes are watering "What the fuck are you talking about Ellie" Your voice broke with the trust in your parents, even Ellie looks at you sympathetically.

"Alex said on the phone that he has been trying to reach someone from home for a long time, but it doesn't work. He was so desperate that he even called me and joel. Do you think your parents or your mom-"

you raise your hand to tell her not to finish the sentence. "Why… would they do that?"

She gets up and comes closer to you. "He mentioned that your mother said he shouldn’t call her anymore or you anymore, that even you don't him in your life anymore"

It feels like your whole past is falling apart, all the beautiful moments with your family, you even want the bad memories back.

"Hey"

Ellie's soft fingertips gently touch the back of your hand. Roughness was still there, she hasn`t stopped playing guitar.

"lets run away"

a/n: omg, the chapters are gonna be shorter next time and we’re also on the road PLS STICK W IT

(and reblog😍)

anyways if you’ve come this far ur a real survivor thanks 🫶

@yourelliewillms @bready101 @liasxeatt @darkerstarsstuff @elliezato @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @lovelyxbaby @yalaysbee @macaroni676

[noxturnalpascal]

The Chase (Part 1)

SerialKiller!Joel x F!Reader   (5.4k)

DARKAU! SEQUEL TO THE HUNTED. POV will switch between Joel and Reader. This is dark, even darker than the first part. Read the warnings if you’re worried. Skip them if you don’t want anything to be spoiled.

Summary: Joel Miller is on the run after being released by his captor - a woman who claims to be a killer just like him. He’s so focused on trying to outrun her that he hasn’t killed anyone in months. Will her obsession or his own be his undoing?

Warnings for Part 1&2: 18+ MDNI. This is dark. Unprotected PiV sex, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation, kidnapping, stalking, bondage, violence, punching, kicking, slapping, choking, blood, mention of needles, talk of murder. *TW: Character Death*

A/N: REUNITED AND IT FEELS SO GOOD! When you see "*****" - that indicates a POV switch. This is Part 1, at 5.4k words (there is almost no smut here - sorry), Part 2 will be slightly longer and will have smut.

He’s been on the run for almost five months now, though it feels longer. He saw the hungry look in your eyes when he suggested you let him go in order to chase after him again, but when the needle went into his neck he thought it was all over. Suffice to say that ever since he came-to in that empty garage he has been scrambling to stay two steps ahead of you. 

What he realized too late was that you still weren’t planning on playing fair. You left his wallet but took his driver’s license. His actual driver’s license with his actual home address on it. He also realized you had searched through his truck when you cleared out his cabin, taking all of his ‘hunting supplies’. And finally, it struck him much later than it should have that the phone you kept waving in front of his face was his own phone, which you also took with you.

So you have the location of his northern cabin, his home address, and would probably be able to find his secondary southern cabin with his map data in his phone. All three were burned. He has to start from scratch, and he has to do it all while staying hidden. He decides to risk it and immediately heads home, thinking there’s a chance that if he drives through the night, he might beat you there. If you didn’t head there as soon as you left, and maybe you didn’t - thinking it was too obvious of a place to start  - he has a shot.

He gets there and the house appears empty, no strange car in the driveway, doors locked the way he left them. He thinks things are looking up. Then he finds another note on his kitchen table. It says ‘Miss me yet?’ in a looser, more erratic handwriting scrawled in the middle of a large piece of paper. Covering the rest of the paper are lipstick prints smooched in varying shades and intensities. Jesus fuckin’ christ, he thinks, you are unhinged.

He checks the house carefully, looking in closets and under furniture, but you aren’t there. You must have been there for a little bit, there is evidence you made yourself some food and took a shower, but didn’t stick around. He gets right to work on his plan. He showers, his reflection and another lipstick print staring back at him from the vanity mirror. Then he spends the morning packing up anything he thinks he’ll need into boxes and totes and limping them out to his truck bed, his leg wound still fresh.

He doesn’t pack much, he’s not that sentimental. He packs up some old photo albums, all of his non-perishable food, a bunch of cash, a variety of clothes, a variety of weapons, and all of his camping supplies. While packing he notices that you spent enough time in the house to go through a lot of his things. You have stolen a bunch of his clothes, his toothbrush, some photos off his walls, and his pillow.

He makes some phone calls to arrange for the packing up and donating of the rest of the items in his house and then selling the house itself, making up some excuse about moving to his cabin permanently. He gives his forwarding contact number as the burner phone that he picked up at a Walmart halfway back home. 

Neither of his cabins were purchased through ‘regular channels’ and his real name isn’t associated with either of them, so they should be safe to hold on to for now but as long as you know about them he can’t step foot near them. He gives his truck a very thorough once-over for tracking equipment and leaves his neighborhood. 

That was 21 weeks and 3 days ago.

He was so careful at first. He would constantly check his mirrors to watch for following cars. He wouldn’t use any roadside motels or even register at campsites, preferring to drive deep into public land and boondock in his tent. He washed up and did his laundry in creeks, ate the canned food he’d packed up, and even utilized his boy scout skills - foraging for edible plants and hunting small game animals. 

He would think about you constantly. Not even because he wanted to, but because he was constantly gripped by the panic that you were on his tail. One time he could have sworn he heard your voice calling his name as he leaned over a mountain stream, the bubbling water carrying it downstream. He saw movement across the water out of the corner of his eye, but when his head jerked up, all he could track was the tall dried grass swaying in the light breeze. 

After a couple months of this behavior his food supply was completely tapped out. He was tired of sleeping on the ground, tired of washing his body in cold streams, and tired of hiding away like a prey animal. He got in his truck and drove for three straight days back to the deep south, so he could escape the cold of winter where he had been further north. Halfway through the second day he was so tired he almost pulled over to sleep, but then it was as if lightning jolted through his entire body when he thought he saw your face in a passing car. A double take relieved him of that fear, but it woke him up enough to keep him going for another day.

He checked into an old roadside inn that he drove by twice before stopping. He didn’t see any security system outside of the building. In the office he inquired about a room and noticed that they weren’t even using electronic equipment, instead keeping a written logbook of guests. He paid for a week in cash and when they asked for his ID, he handed them one of his fakes, watching as they copied the false information into their book.

The musty smell of the room didn’t bother him, nor did the squeaking of the ancient air conditioner in the window, nor did the roaches that scurried out of view when he turned on the bathroom light. This place was such an upgrade to what he’d been living with, it felt like the Ritz. He took one of the longest showers he’d ever taken, groaning with relief at the warm water and the clean feeling of his skin when he’d slathered it with soap. 

He gave his hair a proper wash, the first in many weeks, and felt just how long it’d grown. He ran his fingers through his hair and remembered your fingers in his hair, scratching his skull and tugging at his curls. He remembered your mouth on his neck, and your moans in his ear, and before he could stop his thoughts, he was half hard in the shower. He refused to touch himself and give any merit to those thoughts of you, that his traitorous body was enjoying.

What he should have been thinking about is not what happened last time you caught him, but what might happen if you catch him again. He knows you’re crazy. He thinks you’re like him, at least that’s what you said. And if you’re anything like him, then he knows you’re very dangerous. He tried many times to search for you with the limited clues he had, using his data on his prepaid phone. But with almost nothing to go on, any attempt at getting additional information about you had been futile.

After a week of sleeping in scratchy sheets and listening to the sink drip all hours of the day, he’s ready to move on. He didn’t just stop somewhere for the relative comforts. He stopped somewhere in order to stop running. He wanted to stand still for a time, to see if you would pop up behind him. He wondered if he could catch your scent on the wind, sense any sign of you approaching. It was a week of silence, of stillness, of nothing. It was a week of peace.

His next weeks of travel took him to remote towns along back roads. He didn’t spend more than a couple nights in each place, but he was able to replenish his canned food stash, wash clothes at a laundromat, do some repairs on his truck, and replace some of his hunting and camping supplies that had worn out with use. He even splurged and got himself a new tent, the old one having sprung a leak a week before he stopped using it.

The pressure to stay hidden starts to lift off his shoulders. He feels less like a frightened baby gazelle being stalked by a lioness. He doesn’t feel the need to constantly check over his shoulder, fearing the ghost of your hot breath on the back of his neck. He is careful but he’s more relaxed. He decides to stick by the Gulf of Mexico, and travels between four states now, repeating stops in little out-of-the-way towns. He sees familiar faces, but finds that it benefits him.

In another life he was handy, taught by his dad to build things, to fix them, to take them apart and put them back together. He has struck up a deal with some of the motel owners to do some minor repairs when he stays there, in exchange for a reduced rate. He doesn’t have to go more than a week now without a hot shower. He helps repair machines at the laundromats in exchange for free laundry services, so now he doesn’t have to re-wear dirty clothes. 

Several food markets give him boxes full of dented cans and near-expired products. He may wait until he looks dirty and unkempt enough and stop by these places to give them the impression that he’s struggling and homeless. It very well may be a working ruse, but it also might not be a total ruse. He kind of is struggling and homeless, thanks to you. It’s been almost two months of this routine. He still uses fake IDs, pays in cash, and doubles back when driving well-worn roads.

To further conserve his cash supply, he alternates between stopping at the motels and camping on public land. If he’s honest with himself it’s also not just about saving money. He isn’t ashamed to admit that he enjoys the amenities that the cheap little roadside stops provide as compared to the backwoods camping he endures, but his urges start to creep up on him when he’s around people for too long. Sticking himself in a tent all alone in the middle of the woods keeps him from killing anyone.

One afternoon last month he entered a small room in a dump outside of Lafayette, LA, where the guest complained the door wouldn’t lock properly. Without even needing the masterkey, he entered the empty room and was overwhelmed with the feminine smell that hit him immediately. An open suitcase laid on the bed, items of clothing draped along the side. A bottle of perfume, hand lotion, and lip gloss sat on the dresser next to the TV. Each item his eyes landed on was more tempting than the last. 

How badly he wanted to snatch a piece of clothing, to pocket the perfume, to leave the lock unfixed so he could return to the room later and put his hands around the throat of the woman who was staying there. It took every ounce of self control to only fix the lock and leave empty-handed. He couldn’t give into his urges. He couldn’t draw any attention. He couldn’t risk you hearing about his lapse in judgment.

He checked out of the hotel that very day and drove into Mississippi to escape the scent of the room with the now-fixed lock. You were on his mind the entire drive. He hadn’t thought about you that much in a long time. But as he laid in his tent in the growing dark, his mind was consumed by you. He couldn’t remember what you smelled like, but he imagined. He barely got the chance to touch your skin last time, but he fantasized. He definitely recalled what you felt like; the weight of you bouncing on his lap, the wetness of your tight cunt. Your moans played on repeat in his mind as he, not for the first time, fucked his fist while dreaming of fucking you again. 

The moniker little bird passes his lips as his cum spills over his hand, and he wonders if this delusion will ever come true. Will he get to fuck you again? Will he want to? Will you want to? What will happen if you catch him? Sex might be the last thing on your mind. You’re fucking crazy. You might just kill him. He might not even see it coming.

Yesterday he was working on the back of a dryer in a laundromat and he listened as a young man, trying to impress a young lady, explained how he was traveling alone in an old cargo van across the country to the grand canyon. He listened to this man confess everything you don’t want a stranger to know, only to have the girl giggle and walk away, excusing herself while admitting that she doesn’t speak English very well. 

Joel took almost three hours to repair the dryer because he spent so much time kneeled behind it planning a way to inconspicuously kill the young idiot without alerting you or the authorities as to his activities. By the time he had a plan in place and emerged from behind the appliances, the young man was gone. He allowed common sense to return to him before he could run outside to seek the camper out, and carry out his desire for blood.

And that is how Joel finds himself setting up his tent again, this time in the Florida Panhandle. He has once again had to run away from his urges, which grow stronger with each passing week. It’s been almost five months since you left him in that rented storage garage and almost six months since he killed anyone. He hasn’t gone this long between kills in a very long time. He likes to think of himself as methodical and controlled, even though you called his cabin disgusting and implied he was sloppy. 

But he has self control. He doesn’t kill on a whim, he plans it. He keeps it discreet. No cop has ever come knocking on his door. No one at all has. Except you. Even if you picked berries in his yard instead of knocking, you knew what you were doing. You were hunting him. He had no idea. He thought you were alone. He thought you were scared. He thought you were weak. He thought he was in control. How wrong he was.

And how wrong he is now. How wrong he’s been to have stopped looking over his shoulder. How wrong he’s been to let himself get comfortable with his surroundings. How wrong he’s been to ever doubt that you could catch up to him. Because as he turns around to reach for the rainfly to his tent, there you stand. Hands on your hips at the tailgate of his truck, smiling.

“Hi honey.”

*****

You watch him intake a quick breath, his face falling in dismay, his pupils dilating. It’s so obvious how hard he’s trying not to look at his rifle, which sits on the tailgate behind you, partially covered up by his tent’s rainfly. He makes a quick calculation as his brows knit on his forehead and you see him twitch forward an inch.

“Watch it now honey,” you point one finger to your hip, tilting your pelvis to display the 8” knife hanging from your belt. He freezes again and eyes the knife, then rolls his eyes. He must recognize it. You took it from his truck almost five months ago.

“Looks a little familiar,” he huffs.

“Does it? I had to replace the one I used to have…. left it somewhere a while back,” and you nod towards his leg. He winces, then looks at you for a moment before a cocky smile settles on his face. There’s that shit-eating grin you missed.

“I got myself a new one too,” and he tilts his own hip, showing off the sheathed knife hanging from his belt loop. “It’s ten inches.”

Your eyes go wide in a mocking display and you tsk your tongue against your teeth. “Oh honey, haven’t you heard? It’s not about size…. it’s about knowin’ what to do with it.”

His smile turns ugly. He’s feeling confident. He slowly reaches his hand back as he takes a step forward, muttering, “oh trust me I know what to do with it.”

You quickly reach your hand back into your waistband and grab the small revolver out, pointing it at him with a smile. “This look familiar too?” You ask him, mockingly, watching as he once again freezes in place. His smile is gone, replaced by an annoyed look as he registers that the gun you now have aimed at him also once belonged to him.

“You don’t really look happy to see me, honey.”

“Should I be?”

“Well the way we left things, I just thought you were gonna be missin’ me a lot more.” He is frozen still, watching you wide-eyed, struggling to find the words that will piss you off the least. He kind of looks scared shitless, this is amazing. He looks down for a moment and when he meets your eyes again, his whole face has softened.

“I did miss you sweetheart.”

There he is, there’s your charmer. You can’t help the smile that flashes across your face.

“Oh you did? You missed me?”

“All the time,” he nods slowly. “Every single day,” he adds. Now he’s pushing it. You try not to roll your eyes. You don’t want to be a brat after all this time apart.

“What’d you miss about me?”

Silence. Too long of a pause. He holds his breath and then begins to stutter something out. It’s too late. You’ve caught his lie.

“You didn’t miss me you fuckin’ liar. You’ve been runnin’ away from me for months,” you seethe.

“Runnin’ away was the point sweetheart,” he attempts to soothe you. “This game we’re playin’. Me: Mouse, You: Cat. That’s the game, right?” 

Maybe he has a point. It still annoys you. Maybe it even hurts your feelings a little. Feelings?

“I just thought you’d be sufferin’ more than you seem to be,” you try not to sound whiny.

“I’ve been so busy sweetheart,” he coos.

“Busy?”

“Busy tryin’ to stay two steps ahead of yo-” 

You can’t even help the laugh that bursts out of you. You clap your empty hand over your mouth but it’s too late. He’s got his face scrunched up, watching you too closely. Oops. You might as well tell him.

“That’s what you’ve been busy doin’? Is that what you think?”

The crease between his eyes deepens, his body settling into his stance while also visibly tensing up. He’s bracing for your next sentence. 

“Were you two steps ahead of me washin’ your laundry in that creek in Wyoming?” He’s holding his breath. “Or what about when you finally came back to civilization in Arkansas? Man, you really needed that shower. You stunk to high heaven!” His eyes look like they could pop out of his head. “How many steps ahead of me did you think you were in Mississippi, when you got in your tent, turned off your lantern, and whispered little bird into the dark?”

“What the fuck?!?” he gasps out, expression wild. “What th- How long- Did-,” he can’t even think of what question to ask first. “Was I ever even one step ahead of you?” he says through clenched teeth.

You just shrug your shoulders, trying your best to hide your smile, fully enjoying his realization and subsequent freakout.

“I shoulda fuckin’ known you weren’t gonna play fair,” he’s shaking his head, scowling.

“The fuck you mean by that? Play fair?”

“You always had the upper hand. You haven’t been playin’ fair. AGAIN.”

You mockingly frown at him. “If I wasn’t playin’ fair then why didn’t I just hide under your bed and kill you when you went home?” Men always have something to fucking complain about.

“I dunno. Probably has to do with the fact you’re fuckin’ crazy.”

What the fuck did he just say? Your right eye twitches. Your fingers tighten on the revolver.

“You had all the advantages,” he continues. “You had my first and last name, my home address, and my fuckin’ cellphone. I don’t even know your first nam-”

“And whose fuckin’ fault is that?” you interrupt, absolutely livid.

He snaps his eyes to yours, noting your tone. “I-”

“You never asked me my fuckin’ name did you?” you snarl.

“I-”

“You didn’t. Never asked. It was all wham, bam, thank you ma’am.” you glower.

“That’s not exactly how I remember it goin’ down,” he mutters under his breath.

“What’s my fuckin’ name?” you take a step forward, white-knuckle gripping the gun now.

His eyes flicker between yours and the revolver in your hand.

Your eyes bore into his, growing wider and wider. His mouth opens and then shuts, his pupils fully dilated. He swallows loudly, the only sound he makes.

“Get in the fuckin’ truck,” you growl, pointing towards the passenger side with the gun.

He stiffly marches to the passenger side and plops himself on the seat, pulling the door closed once seated. You raise your leg and stop the door from closing with your foot.

“Wait a fuckin’ minute cowboy,” you mock. You grab handcuffs out of your back pocket with your free hand, the other still pointing the revolver at him. You toss him the handcuffs and warn him, “make ‘em tight, this ain’t my first rodeo.” He clicks them into place and then you double check them, giving each a couple more clicks until the metal is digging into his wrist bones. 

Slamming the door closed and walking around the back, your arm sweeps his rainfly and his rifle off the tailgate onto the ground. You close and lock the back up, and round the truck to the driver’s side door. You look in through the window and make eye contact with him, his face expressionless. You know that getting into a small space with him is dangerous even if he’s handcuffed. Better not to have a gun for him to grab.

Well below the window and out of his eye-line, you flip the revolver open and let the loaded bullets fall into the grass. You flip it closed and tuck it back in your waistband at the small of your back. Opening the door, you climb in the driver’s seat. You hope he thinks it’s still loaded. Part of you even hopes he reaches for it, so you can punish him for his indiscretion.

He lied about missing you. He didn’t seem to be suffering without you. He looked like he was having fun playing cub scout in the woods. He called you crazy. He said you weren’t playing fair. He’s acting like a fucking victim when you gave him 21 weeks and 3 days more to live than you had originally planned. What an ungrateful fucking asshole. He has ruined this reunion.

*****

You drive in silence, which he takes as a bad sign. He can vaguely hear you grumbling under your breath through clenched teeth and see you white-knuckle gripping the steering wheel. He thought he had you calm for a minute back there. He was smiling, you were smiling, things were looking up. And then he said something that pissed you off, right about when he said you weren’t playing fair. He’d insulted you and now you were taking him somewhere, probably to kill him.

He thinks about grabbing the wheel, about grabbing his knife, about going for the gun he’s pretty sure is back in your waistband. But he knows you have the knife on your left side and probably a syringe hidden somewhere waiting to stab him with if he makes the wrong move. He sits in silence during the short drive and feels slight relief when you pull his truck up to a cabin, smoke billowing out of the chimney. This is better than what he was expecting - a six foot hole in the ground.

You park the truck right outside the cabin’s front door, exit the vehicle and head inside, front door slamming behind you. You’ve left him out in the truck alone. He should run. But he’s handcuffed, and you have his truck keys. What did you do with his rifle? He slowly exits the truck cab and shuts the door as quietly as possible, watching for movement at the cabin’s door. He heads to the back of the truck and quickly realizes you’ve locked both the tailgate and the bed cap’s door closed. Looking through the windows he doesn’t see his rifle and assumes you left it at his campsite. 

He might be willing to run for it with these handcuffs still on but he can’t leave everything in this truck and take off with no weapon at all. You’d catch him again in no time. He can’t run, he has nowhere else to go. He has to go inside the cabin, which of course you already knew and is the reason why you didn’t bother to drag him inside or babysit him until he came in.

He walks inside the front door and you immediately shout “SHOES!” His feet shuffle as he skids to a stop. You’re less than six feet away, at the sink of the small kitchen, not even bothering to turn and look at him. He toes his dirty boots off at the door as he looks around the small cabin, assessing the layout. To his left is a small couch, chair, and wood burning stove. Beyond the small sitting area is probably a bathroom and at the back of the cabin he sees a bunk bed through the open door.. On his right is the tiny kitchenette and directly in front of him sits a small dining table. 

He can’t help but notice that sitting on top of the otherwise empty table is the small, shiny revolver. He can’t help but notice it because it’s glaringly obvious. It’s clearly not an accident. You left that there for him to see as soon as he entered the cabin, turning your back to entice him into grabbing it, probably so you could shoot him with a different gun you have tucked into your waistband now. It’s such an obvious trap, he’s actually insulted that you think he’s that stupid. 

“Come ‘ere,” you snap, grabbing his attention.

He waits a beat but shuffles towards you, your back still turned. When he comes up behind you, you turn around, a knife in your hand. He flinches slightly and hopes you don’t notice. It’s a paring knife. You’re peeling potatoes. Knife still in your right hand you grab onto his handcuffs, pulling his arms up in front of him. You reach into your pocket with your other hand and produce the handcuff key, unlocking them without a word. 

He resists the urge to rub at his wrists where the metal has been digging into his bones. You point towards the back, at the door he assumes is the bathroom, and then turn back to the sink. You still aren’t speaking. You must still be pissed but at least he’s still alive. He won’t test your patience. He heads into the bathroom and quietly closes the door behind him, noticing a cardboard box sitting on the toilet. 

Inside the box is a change of clothes, a toothbrush, deodorant, and shaving supplies. He recognizes all of them as items you stole from his home all those months ago. He showers, shaves, changes, and takes a deep breath to steel himself as he exits the bathroom. You remain at the kitchen sink, the gun remains on the table.

He stands just outside the bathroom, able to see the entire cabin from his vantage point. Behind him is the bedroom, bunk bed on one side of the room and a double bed on the other. He can’t help but notice his old pillow on the unmade side of the double bed, presumably where you’ve been sleeping. The larger room in front of him is filled with the smell of dinner, a large stockpot simmering on the stove.

He slowly makes his way into the kitchen, looking into the pot and seeing a creamy stew, green flecks rolling along the surface as it gently bubbles. He approaches you timidly and sees you’re still armed with a paring knife, slicing strawberries now. He takes a risk and places his hands on your hips. You still your movements, but don’t move to stop him. 

He’s pretty sure you have a weapon stashed somewhere. He slowly moves his hands along your hips towards your belly button. No gun tucked in the front. He presses the front of his body up against the back of yours. He hopes it’s not obvious that he’s checking for a weapon at your back now. He feels nothing but your hair tickling his nose. He inhales. You smell like a campfire. 

He presses his nose deeper into the back of your head and inhales again. He faintly smells the shampoo from the shower. He realizes he’s still gripping you at your stomach and pulling you into him while pressing himself into you. He also notices his growing erection is pressed against you, digging into your ass. You haven’t resumed your strawberry slicing but you haven’t stabbed him either, which is a surprise.

He lets go of his squeezing grip of you and puts his hands chastely back on your hips. He waits while you slowly resume your preparation of the last of the strawberries. Impulsively, he moves his head to the side of yours and noses around the shell of your ear, his freshly shaved face brushing against your cheek. He can’t stop himself from inhaling again, memorizing your scent.

Suddenly losing all control, he closes his eyes, kissing just below your ear and slowly down your neck. A part of his brain tells him to keep checking for weapons and so he moves one hand up to cup your breast and the other hand down, fingers dipping below your waistband. He hears the clatter of the knife being dropped in the sink and his eyes snap open, you turn in his arms to face him. You gently push him backwards, his arms dropping back to his sides.

“Dinner’s ready,” as you nod to the table, an obvious instruction to sit down.

You ladle the stew from the pot on the stove into two bowls, setting one down in front of him and the other down in front of you. You drop a spoon in each bowl and sit down across from him, the revolver now serving as the meal’s centerpiece. He still won’t look at it, knowing it’s a trap. You bring a spoonful to your lips, blowing on the steaming liquid.

“Eat,” you order, your eyes not leaving his.

He grabs the spoon and mimics you, blowing on the steaming soup before taking a loud slurp. It’s very hot. You’re still watching him. What even is this? He thought you were going to kill him but instead you brought him here. What are you doing? You made him shower. You implied he should shave. You cooked him dinner. He swallows another burning spoonful. Are you playing house? What the fuck is going on?

This is just part of your game. You’re fucking crazy. 

You’re still blowing on the spoon in front of your face, watching him. He lifts another spoonful to his lips, and freezes. You haven’t put that spoon in your mouth. You’re just staring at him, watching him eat. He looks down, past his spoon, into the bowl. What is this? What is he eating? He looks back to you, your eyes still boring into his own, still gently blowing on your spoon.

“Eat your dinner,” you bark, “little bird,” you quietly add.

What. 

Is. 

This?

*****

NEXT PART: The Chase (Part 2)

**CABIN LAYOUT POST IF YOU'RE A VISUAL PERSON LIKE ME**

[nevadas-night-time-novelist]

Tricky with a mime!reader? Classic clown and mime but mime!reader has like actual mime powers. Tricky is confused but interested!

Oh this is so cute <3 i love clowns and mimes n stuff

Tricky x Mime!reader

Despite the world being a hellscape, there were pockets of quiet, times of peace tucked away in the briefest of moments, like now, for instance.

A small crowd had formed, a few of them tossing loose monies into your little donation box while you performed for them. A child was in the crowd, front and centre with awe in her eyes, it was incredibly rare to see one. The world just isn't safe enough for them.

Performing was such an art, movements so fluid, as though what you were doing was real, your spectators threw a little more monies as you pretended to get struck by lightning while flying a kite.

Shaking off the sparks in your system, you switched to something more calm for your final performance, it was getting late, and soon this peaceful area would be rife with vamps.

Bending down, you plucked a bouquet of flowers, deeply inhaling their scent, before turning and offering them to the child. She giggled, and reached out for the fake gift, but the moment it left your hands, it took on a physical form. She was holding a handful of varying white flowers, daisies, snowdrops, baby's breath, and a proud white rose in the middle.

Stars filled her eyes. "How'd you dO THAT?" She squealed, clinging tightly to the first flowers she'd seen ever.

A single gloved finger pressed to your lips and you winked at her, mime magic. Taking a bow, you began to mime packing away your things, in actuality putting away some very real items to you.

"KEEP GOING, CLOWN WAS HAVING FUN!" You dropped your money box, scattering a few loose coins and notes onto the ground. Turning to face what you hoped wasn't real, you locked eyes with the mangled zombie clown, shaking in his uncontrollable way as his body tried to get rid of the excess energy pooling from the drive in his brain.

Terror filled your veins, you shook your head, acting out a vampire creeping along, before biting you.

Tricky laughed, enjoying your performance. "CLOWN LOVES SEEING OTHER CLOWNS IN THE WILD. YOU'RE DIFFERENT TO CLOWN, BUT CLOWN LIKES IT." He drove his stop sign into the ground, sitting down crossed legged like a child, ready to watch and learn.

It was going to get very dangerous shortly, judging by the encroaching darkness, on the other hand, in front of you was arguably the biggest threat in Nevada.

You held a hand out, suddenly feeling your clothing get wet, and you pulled an umbrella from your bag, trying to keep yourself dry. Tricky laughed and clapped, he was having fun.

The rain soon stopped, and you picked another item to play with, a tiny tricycle which you struggled to get on, before wheeling around in a few circles, Tricky's laughter getting louder and ... slightly more human sounding, under the screeching chaos, a softer male laugh could be heard. Strange...

"DO THE FLOWER THING, CLOWN LIKED THAT!" He suddenly lunged forward, and you reflexively put your hands up, and Tricky slammed into the wall of your mime box. "OUCH! WHAT IS THIS??" His clawed hands patted on the hard surface.

You took a step back, and mimed being stuck in a box. "THOSE... ARE REAL WALLS???" He tilted his head to the left like a curious dog. "CAN YOU TEACH CLOWN TO DO THAT??" Shaking your head in reply, a firm no. Even if you could talk and tell him how you did it, you doubted it'd work.

"NOT FAIR, CLOWN WANTS TO DO THAT. CLOWN WOULD PUT HANK IN A BOX AND SHAKE HIM!" Tricky laughed again, his body shaking violently as his hysteric giggles took over. "CLOWN WOULD MAKE HANK A PULP!"

You carefully picked up your stuff, including the money you dropped, while Tricky was preoccupied. He was being just a little too unhinged for your liking right now, and it was getting dark fast, vamps would soon flood this area for an easy meal.

"DO YOU REALLY HAVE TO GO? CLOWN WANTS TO HANG OUT MORE." You nodded to him. "...CAN CLOWN SEE YOU AGAIN?" A smile crept over your face, and you nodded, gesturing around at the park, you'll be around here sometime.

"CLOWN LOOKS FORWARD TO IT! CLOWN LIKES OTHER CLOWN!"

Clown likes clown too.

[rowyn-writes]

Cinnamon and Sugar

Chapter Four

Warnings: None

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Characters: Dean, Jo, Reader, Benny Laffite (mentioned only)

Word count: 1.5k

You looked around your nearly empty apartment. Pretty much everything was packed up, and what wasn't was going to be thrown away. You still had a few days until you had to move, but today was moving day. The truck was going to be there in four hours, and there was still things to be done.

You had searched for days on end for another apartment, not wanting to impose on Dean. When nothing came up, you finally decided to take Dean up on his offer. Dean was very sweet about the entire thing. He already had a spare bedroom set up, and even a cat bed for Storm. Hell, he even offered to help you move, to which you declined politely. He had already done so much for you and he barely knew you.

Normally, you would find the entire situation strange, but there was something about Dean, like he would never hurt you.

"Alright, Storm." You said, looking around. "Are you ready to go to your new home?" Your cat gave a sad meow. "No, silly, I meant a new home with me. I'm not leaving you behind." Storm began purring as he weaved between your legs. "God, you're a weird cat."

Not only were you stressed about having to move out, but you also had midterms in three days. But then you had Christmas break; four weeks off of school where you could just sit around in your pajamas and watch Christmas movies.

"Knock knock." A voice said, opening the door. "It's your favorite person!"

You rolled your eyes as you looked at the blonde girl. "Since when are you my favorite person, Jo?"

"Since we were ten, duh. Besides, I have to be your favorite, I'm here to help you finish packing and move your stuff into Dean's house." Jo said, grabbing a stack of books and neatly placing them in a box. "Even though I offered to let you stay at my place."

"Jo," You sighed. "I told you, if your landlord caught me living at your apartment, then you would be kicked out and neither of us would have a place to live."

"I know, It's just. . . You barely know Dean. He could be a serial killer."

"And that would be an upgrade from the last guy I lived with, so. . ."

"Y/N," Jo shook her head.

"Jo."

"Are you okay?" She asked gently. "You haven't really talked about Michael all that much and-"

"It's because I don't want to talk about it." You stopped her. "When I'm ready to tell you what happened, I will. But right now, I'm nowhere near ready to discuss it. No matter how much you and Jack badger me about it."

"We badger you because we care, Y/N/N." Jo objected.

"I know you do, but sometimes it's best to just give me some time. I promise I'll talk to you guys about it soon. Just give me a little more time."

Jo gave you a worried look but said nothing else. "So, what are you doing for Christmas?"

You made a face at your best friend. She was jumping from one touchy subject to the next. "I don't know. . . If Jack doesn't come home from Duke, I might go visit him. You could come too. Make a road trip out of it."

"That's a sixteen hour drive, Y/N. If we were to visit Jack, we would be taking a plane." Jo said as she packed up a few band t-shirts.

"Do you have money for a ticket?" You arched an eyebrow. "Cuz I sure as hell don't."

"Touché."

You decided to play some music while the two of you continued to pack up your apartment. Listening to music was the only way to make you unwind. You loved to her the loud beat of the drums and the hum of the guitar. The two of you danced around as you tossed things into boxes.

"Aren't your neighbors doing to report this?" Jo asked loudly over the music.

"What are they gonna do? Kick me out?" You responded, jumping around.

"This is why I love you!" Jo giggled.

Two hours later, you had everything packed up, and the stuff that wasn't was sorted into two piles: Throw away, and donate.

You and Jo fell back onto the couch, both of you out of breath. "I am exhausted." You wheezed.

"You're telling me." Jo agreed. "Hey, you wanna get some pizza?"

"If you're buying."

———

"So," You said, after taking a bite out of your pizza. "Why didn't you want to pursue anything with Dean again?"

"I mean, it's not that I didn't. He's a nice guy, super hot, pretty smart, but it just didn't seem right." Jo explained. "It's almost like I was stealing him from someone. I could tell that he didn't belong with me."

"Huh," You furrowed your eyebrows. "I've literally never heard someone say that about having sex before." You laughed.

"Oh shut up!" Jo growled. "You make it out to sound like I'm crazy."

"I mean. . ."

Jo glared at you from across the table. "I will hit you with something."

"I'd like to see you try. Your aim sucks." You challenged. Jo hurriedly got up and picked up a pillow from on the couch and chucked it at your head. "Hey!"

"Well, would you look at that, I guess my aim doesn't suck after all." Jo smirked.

"You little -" You picked up the pillow she threw at you and aimed for her stomach.

There was a knock at the door, which interrupted the fight that you were having with Jo.

You opened the door to see Dean on the other side. "Dean, hey! What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to help you move." He said simply.

"Dean I-"

"Nope, you can't stop me." He chuckled as he lifted a box into his arms. "Whatever doesn't fit in the moving van I can put in my car."

You and Jo watched as he carried three boxes out the door. "God he is so sexy." Jo mumbled.

"I thought you said chasing after Dean would be like stealing something from someone?" You inquired, a light grin on your face.

"Doesn't mean I can't admire his great ass." You rolled your eyes and flicked Jo's ear.

"Perv." You mumbled as you grabbed a box and followed Dean out the door. Within twenty minutes, everything had been loaded onto the van.

"Well, that's everything." You huffed, resting your hands on your hips. "Okay, so, Jo and I are going to follow you in our cars, and we'll see you at your house."

You picked up Storm's carrier and put him in the back seat. He was sound asleep, as you slipped a Benadryl in his food earlier because it put him to sleep easily. Storm hated car rides with a burning passion.

It was about a twenty minute drive from your apartment to Dean's place, which was a good thing; you weren't too far away from the coffee shop. His house seemed to be in a good neighborhood. 

Jo parked the moving van beside Dean's car. Dean hopped out of his car and began grabbing boxes, taking them inside the house. After several trips back to the car, you finally had all of your boxes in the house. You crouch down and let Storm out of his carrier, and he darts into a corner, glaring at you. "Aaand now he's pissed." You chuckle softly.

"Ah, he'll get over it, sweetheart. Especially when he becomes hungry." Dean comments as he starts helping you unpack.

"Well, it looks like y'all have this handled. I'm gonna go, it's way too crowded in here anyways." Jo says, giving you a hug before leaving.

You and Dean worked in silence for a while as you unpacked. It wasn't an excessive amount of stuff, mostly things for your room. "I'll unpack the clothes, you don't have to worry about that." You tell Dean as he brings in a box labeled 'clothes'. "Thanks for letting me live with you, Dean. I didn't know what I was gonna do. . ." You say quietly.

"Nah, don't worry about it sweetheart, I look at it as a win-win situation. You have a place to stay and I have good company." He gives you a boyish grin.

"Still, I really owe you one. . . I'll have rent to you the first of the month and we can go half on the utilities." You say as you unpack your clothes, putting them in your dresser.

"Don't stress too much on that, sweetheart. I know times are tough, just pitch in when you can, okay?" He gives you a reassuring smile, gently squeezing your shoulder. "I'll leave you to get settled in. I'll order us some Chinese food."

"Oooh, that sounds really good right now." You sigh happily. "Marry me?"

Dean snorts as he looks at his phone. "You're starting to sound like Benny, there, sugar." 

"What can I say, it runs in the family." You joke. Dean left to go pick up the food and you were left alone in you thoughts. It was strange to be living somewhere other than your apartment, especially with this man that you met not even three weeks ago. But you trusted Dean, there was just something about his personality that just made you feel safe and secure. Storm jumped on the bed, looking up at you.

"Hey there buddy. . . I know, tell me about it, this whole thing is strange. . ." You sigh as you gently pet him. "Everything's gonna be okay. . ." You weren't sure if you were trying to convince your cat or yourself.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Cinnamon and Sugar Tags:

@vicmc624 @supernatural-jackles @laycblack @casdeancrowleys-blog @my-proof-is-you

[ambrossart]

I’m so sorry to clog up your notifications, but for some reason, Tumblr is refusing to let me comment 🙄 Think of this as a continuation of my comment from a few minutes ago 🤦‍♀️

About the boxes: right?! I’ve donated/given away/thrown away way too many things for there to still be this much stuff.

By the way, you should be so proud of yourself for going through all this moving with agoraphobia. I’ve only moved once and it’s caused a major strain. Going from Rhode Island to Tennessee is not an easy feat. If it helps to write out what’s going on, please keep us updated! Again, I’m sending soooo much rest your way!

I'm writing this from Tennessee!

Oh my god, that was the most stressful move of my life. My husband accidentally went through a moving broker and we 100% got scammed. They severely underquoted us (a common tactic), so when the movers showed up, the cost was more than double what was quoted. We were backed into a corner. Our options were to pay the extra cost or throw away all of our furniture. Thankfully, my parents loaned us some money, so we got our furniture loaded onto the truck (minus our dining room table, which we had already sacrificed), but now we have no idea when we're getting our furniture delivered—or if we're getting our furniture delivered. I hate moving so much. I wanna cry, but I'm too exhausted.

But my new apartment is gorgeous. Apart from the leaky sink (which should be fixed today) and the lack of furniture, it's incredible. Everything is brand new. There's so much space. The community is up in the hills, so it's got this quiet, woodsy vibe. Once we're settled, I know I'm gonna be really happy here.

And yeah, my mental health has definitely taken a hit with all this moving. My agoraphobia is triggered by major changes in environment. Actually, even minor changes will trigger it. During the drive here, for example, I was having mini panic attacks at every rest stop because I was scared I was gonna get lost on my way to the restroom (I know that sounds silly, but 🤷‍♀️). I have to Google every new place I visit so that I can see pictures of the inside and outside. If I could download a map, I would.

But you wouldn't know I'm struggling if you saw me. I go through great effort to hide it.

My lowest point was in college. My freshman year was fine because I had a roommate and would go out with her, but my sophomore year I was by myself, and I didn't leave my dorm for months, except to go to class (and I barely ever went to class either, but luckily I had very understanding professors who made accommodations for me). I also developed a slight ED during this time. I was too scared to go get food, so I wouldn't eat, except for like a candy bar out of the vending machine or something. I was like a little gremlin. I would come out at night, raid the vending machine, and then scurry back into my room before anyone could see me. That’s really embarrassing to admit, but it’s true. And I was losing weight! I was losing so much weight, and I was happy because I had always struggled with my weight, so… win-win, right? I didn’t have to face the terrifying world and I was finally skinny. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, one night I fainted in the shower, fell hard, slammed my head on the bathroom floor, lost conciousness, came to, saw my RA hovering over me, and finally realized I had a major problem.

Yeah, I was a hot mess in my late teens/early twenties.

I’m still a hot mess, but I’m doing a lot better. 😂

[cxrsed-angel]

eddie x fem!reader (angst)

warning: angst no warnings i don’t think, around 2k words, not proofread

a/n: been in bad place mentally and i guess this was the result

You and Eddie had been broken up for almost a month now after being together for 2 years. When he broke up with you, he didn't give you a specific reason, he didn't say that he stopped loving you or you’ve done something wrong or anything. You wished he would’ve given you a reason as to why. You thought everything was going great, he graduated in ‘86 and started working as a mechanic, and you were both saving up to move into an apartment in Indianapolis while you attending Indiana State. You had a plan. What went wrong?

You were lying in your bed next to your stuffed animals, you had all the ones Eddie gave you in a box off to the side of your room. You didn't have the heart to donate them, they were really cute and had fun memories attached to them, but you couldn't look at them without starting to tear up. You missed him so much.

The Cure’s Pornography album softly played in the back. You look over at the stuffed animal box and see your white dragon stuffed animal Eddie had given you one day. He had the matching black one. You started thinking about the day he broke up with you, you tried hard not to, but it almost always played on replay in your head whenever you were alone with your thoughts.

You had just knocked on Eddie’s trailer, but you could tell something was off when he answered the door. He didn't look into your eyes, his body language was closed off, and he held his head down.“Um hey um come in” “are you okay” “um we need to talk.” You felt your heart sink into your stomach, you started getting a lump in your throat. “Ok what do you want to talk about” “babe-no um this wow hard,” he laughed lightly, but you could tell it was out of nerves more than anything “Eds you’re starting to scare me did-did you like cheat on me or something” “What! No no but um I think we should stop seeing each other” You felt your heart get ripped out of your chest. You suddenly couldn't breathe. You were trying as hard as you could to start not crying. “What-what-what’d you mean like a-like-a um a break or a pause or something like that” You saw him shake his head, still not looking into your eyes. “No like stop all together not a break” “you want to break up?” He just nods “why-why, did I um do something” He shakes his head. “You could at least fucking look me in my eyes Edward” your voice started to get louder, the sadness starting to mix with anger. He couldn’t even look at you, “why do you want to break up” “just because,” he said nonchalantly. He looked like he didn’t even care. “No this isnt something you can shrug off, do you not love me anymore, did you sleep with someone else, do you just not want to be-” “God! Can’t you just leave Jesus I don’t want to deal the 3rd degree right now can you just leave!” He yelled at you, it was the first time he had looked into your eyes since you’d gotten inside his trailer. “Sure Eddie yea um have a good life.” You stormed out, almost slamming the door, but you remembered he hadn’t gotten fixed yet and didn't want to cause anymore damage, especially to Wayne. You just get into your car and drive home.

Your pink phone ringing on the nightstand next to your bed breaks out of your thoughts that were replaying the scene again and again. You looked at the clock. It was 12 am, who is calling you this late? You get up and sit on the edge of your bed, “Um hello” there was a silence “hello?” you asked, more annoyed now “look if this is fucking prank-” “fuck i missed your voice” you pause, hearing his voice, you missed his too, but anger started boiling again. “Wrong number” you slam your phone down and lay back on your bed. You start reading your book to distract your mind from him. About 30 minutes later, your phone rings again, you stare at it, a part of you know it's Eddie again, but there’s a small part of you that was naive enough to believe it was someone else. You knew it was unlikely you didn't really have friends, especially ones who would call you this late; you were just acquaintances with Eddie’s, honestly. You sigh and picked up the phone “I'm not fucking doing this all night, Eddie” “I know I know but I just really wanted to hear you” He sounded off like he was high or something, you could hear it in his voice. “Are you fucking high right now?” there was a pause “maybe” “fuck you Eddie. ” You slam your phone down but leave it off the hook so he couldn’t call back. “That dick he doesn't call you for weeks, goes out of his way to avoid you, then calls you high he probably wants to come over and get his dick wet”, you thought to yourself.

You lay back down for a minute until you sit up and remember you have a personal phone and a general home phone for your apartment that your mother insisted you have when you moved out. You lay back down, “he wouldn't, right?” You thought about it for a minute and sat up “yea, the motherfucker would” you sprint to the phone as soon as you entered your living room, you see it ringing. You know you should just leave it alone, then take it off the hook and go about your night, but a small piece you believe he’s gonna call, apologize, and you’ll be back together that piece won. You slowly pick it up. “Hello?” this time, you stayed silent “babe, I know you're there,” you still don't respond “please just say something” you had nothing to say, though. You felt numb, you had lost your best friend and the love of your life all in one night, and he couldn't even give you a reason. And here he was calling you high, why, you started crying, ‘why couldn't he break my heart and leave me alone” you thought. You sniffled through the speaker “are-are you crying” you start crying more, hearing his soft tone. The one that had comforted you when you got rejected from your dream college when your pet guinea pig died, every time you had an existential crisis, or every time you would feel alone from having no close friends, he was always there. You sniffle into the phone again “wrong number,” you say coldly. You slam the phone down on and left it hanging off the wall.

You flop down on your couch and start crying, crying over the fact that you had no one, no one you could call and ask for help or talk to, crying because it was going so well, or so you thought, you felt like you messed everything up, like you did something wrong. You slowly cried yourself to sleep like you’d done almost every night since the breakup.

You were woken up by soft knocking on your door, you sat up looking at the clock on your coffee table, “why is someone knocking at 7:00 am” the knocking started getting more aggressive “Ok, Okay give me a minute!” You open the door and see Dustin and Steve arguing “No man, you didn't need to bang her door down at 7:00 in the morning.” “Well, I can't come after school you know that” “yea but I'm just saying we can just knock lightly and -” you look between them “hey whats this about?” “um can we come in,” Dustin asks? You just open the door wider “sure its not like I was sleeping or anything.”

They both come in and sit on your couch. “I would offer drinks but you woke me up before noon so you dont get a nice host” “thats fair thats fair um Steve do you want to um start” you lift your eyebrow up “ok seriously what is this” ‘its about-um Eddie” you stand up and walk over you your front door “get out” “wait just hear him out please” you look at Dustin and roll you eyes as you sit by down “what about…him” “He’s been miserable lately” “and thats my probably because?” “you guys need to get back together, he hasn’t been coming to Hellfire, the dungeon master, he takes is role very seriously and not like him to miss one session let alone every week.” “look Dustin thats rough but I dont understand want you want me to do” Steve started talking “maybe just hear him out whatever he did to make you want to take-” “wait wait wait you think I broke up with him” “well yea he didnt tell us but by the state he’s in we thought you ended it” you laugh and shake your head “no you guys got it all wrong um” you look down “he broke up with me.” There was a huge pause, “holy shit” “holy shit’ “yea holy shit guys so if this is over i would like to go back to sleep.’” They both nodded “um yea come on Henderson I’ll drop you off at school” “yea yea um we’ll see you later,” you wave and lock the door behind them.

You go to your bedroom and gain the sudden motivation to take all of Eddie’s stuff back to his trailer. You hope now would he would be at his shift at the car shop so you wouldn’t see him. After an hour, you were almost done until you see the box of stuffed animals. You were gonna be sad not seeing them, but you knew you needed to give them back if you ever want to even think about moving on. You put the stuffed animals in with the plastic box you had from moving, you decided to do one big box instead of smaller cardboard boxes that way, you just drop it off and move off with your life.

After a 15-minute drive and 10-minutes stalling outside the trailer park, you finally enter and park by his trailer. “Ok, you got this, you got this,” you say to yourself as you get the box out of your backseat. You take a deep breath and knock on the door, you were so anxious and nervous you wanted to turn back and cry, but you waited. You see Wayne open the door “hey kid,” “um hi Wayne um I have some of Eddie’s stuff” He nods, “come on in.” You shake your head, you weren't ready to step back into the place where you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. You weren't ready to see his stuff, to be in the place that had once been your safe place that now kept you wondering what you did wrong, why didn't he want to be with you anymore. “Come on, kid, we can still be friends” you look up at him, crying a little bit “um really” he nodded “of course.” You slowly walk in and stand in the middle of the living room. “You can just put that on the floor” you put the box and floor and go to sit on the couch, but waves of memories come flooding in, all the movies nights, the first time you tried weed, make-out sessions, him teaching about DnD and showing you the newest campaign he had worked on, you just stare down at the couch.

“You can sit on the barstool, um by the counter” you just nod and go to sit. “Im gonna be honest with you, kid, this is the worst I've seen him since, um since his parents.” You didn't know much about his parents but knew they left him when he was around 10 or 11. That's all he ever told you, and he never mentioned it again. “Well um, he-he made his choice” Wayne walked over and sat on the bar stool next to the one. “My nephew, he um has a tendency of ruining good things, he has a leave before they leave me first mindset, you know, he’s been abandoned by his parents, friends one he started being himself you know, he the the town he grew up abandoned him in a way, you were his first serious girlfriend and honestly sweetie I think he got spooked, he really loves you, and you loves him back, and he’s so use to only me being around I think he wanted to leave before you left him” you felt the tears pooling up in your eyes, now it made sense why he never gave you a reason he was leaving before you left him, you look up at Wayne, “he thought I was gonna leave him” you started crying harder “I wasnt going to,” you say through sobs, Wayne puts a hand on your back “I know you weren't kid I know.” You stay there just crying life you've been doing all month, you just missed him so much, you don't even know how long you’ve been crying, you just felt so bad that he thought you were going to leave him or suddenly not want you and that so many people in his life has made him feel that way, he was the sweetest person you’ve ever known, and didn't deserve all the shit he put up with,

In between crying, you go to get up to leave when you hear the door open, and you feel the same way you did a month ago, lump in your throat, your heart suddenly in your stomach, you felt like you couldn't breathe. “Hey Wayne, I’m gonna go smoke in my-” You slowly get off the barstool “um I was just go-” “no-no, you two need to talk ” You see Wayne grab his keys and walk out. You stand still, staring at the floor, you couldn’t look at him. “Um, listen I’m really sorry,” you see him start to walk near you and flinch away, stepping back, distancing yourself from him. “For-for the calls or-” “ for that and for ending it the way I did, so suddenly, honestly, that night I realized how much I love you, and I’ve never loved anyone like the way I love you, it scared the shit out of me sweetheart, then I started thinking how you weren’t made to stay in Hawkins, you weren't meant to stay in this small ass town, babe, I realized I was holding you back and you could do so much better than me.” You see tears in his eyes now “but I don't want anyone else because there is no one better for me than you Eds. I love you so much, and I would never leave you, and You weren’t made for Hawkins either. You’re too metal for this small ass town.” You see him smile slightly, “but you really hurt me, you know that, right” he nodded “I know, babe I was stupid I should've just talked to you, I just didn't know what to do” you nod “I know Eds”  “can I give you a hug” you nodded again, and he pulls you tightly against his chest “I’m so sorry baby I will never do that again promise Im so so sorry.” You pushed him away slightly “but if you ever break up with me again and proceed to call me high in the middle night Im not taking you back” he laughs a little “while that is fair, I promise I will never break up with you ever again.” You lean up to kiss him and bent down a little and grabbed your face, his lips felt nice and  comforting.

He pulls you away from him, slightly looking down into your eyes, and you stare back at his, “man his eyes are so pretty,” you thought to yourself “I’ve missed my princess, babe” you wipe tears off your face “I’ve missed you more.” “do you want to cuddle or do you still need some space from me” “I can use a cuddle, but Eds, please, please come talk to me ok, I’m here for you and I never want you to feel that way about us again ok babe” he nods and tears slowly falling “I promise”

He wraps an arm around your waist and you walk back to his room. You both take off your shoes and lay down in his bed. He pulls you tightly into him “ ive missed your cuddles” “me too”

[astartothemoon]

Blue Memories // E.M.

Summary: Eddie and Reader are strangers turned friends turned lovers turned exes. We follow them on one really tense car ride and experience the ups and downs of their relationship through the songs playing on the radio.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x female Reader

Trigger Warning: Swearing. Mention of alcohol. Mention of food. Mention of drugs.

Wordcount: 10k + (It’s a big boy)

A/N:  Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.

Icicles hang from the eaves of the building like tiny cold daggers. A safety hazard for stressed-out Christmas shoppers. 

A group of carolers stands a little off to the side, just far enough not to trigger the automatic doors but close enough to make sure none of the shoppers can ignore their incessant crooning. 

It’s unfair, really. For her to judge them on their singing. They really aren’t all that bad and, on another day, she maybe would’ve even dropped a dollar or two into the red box saying “donations”. Today is not another day though. Today is today and today is very bad, no good, horrible, terrible, all kinds of shitty.

There are arguably worse places to be stuck with a non-working car than a Walmart parking lot an hour outside of Hawkins. That being said, there are also way better places.

Old Sally has been Old Sally before she was (Y/N)’s and though she has never been the most reliable car to begin with, she always pulled through in the end. Judging by the sounds she made just a few minutes ago when (Y/N) tried to start her, this might actually be The End. Full stop. Capital E. The one where there is no coming back from.

So what do you do when you’re stuck on your way home for the holidays? You call your family. You call mom, calm her down, convince her of the fact that you are okay and not dying and then you make her send dad to come get you. And it should work, right? In theory. 

Only not today on this very bad, no good, horrible, terrible all kinds of shitty day.

Because dad has a broken leg from when he slipped on the ice so he can’t drive and mom already had a few eggnogs too many after her holiday party with the ladies from the salon.

“We can send someone else, hun. The Millers’ son is back in town, I’m sure he’d love to give you a ride.” 

(Y/N) scoffed at her mother’s words. Kyle Miller had always been a fucking creep, lusting after her even back in high school. So she assured her mother she’d find another way home and told her not to worry. 

And now it’s not her mother worrying. It’s her.

That’s what you get for stopping because you craved some flaming hot Cheetos, you dumbass.

She could walk, sure but what about her luggage? And what about the absolutely horrifying fact that she is a woman, it’s cold as fuck outside and about to get dark? 

The movies teach us a lot of valuable life lessons. One of them — the most important one maybe — is to never say “it can’t get worse”. Because it will get worse. So much worse.

What the movies don’t tell you, is that even as much as thinking about it has the same effect. Because as soon as the thought crosses (Y/N)’s mind, it gets worse.

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Let your heart be light. From now on our troubles will be out of sight.” 

(Y/N) wants to stab her fingers into her ears, all the way to her brain if possible. The caroller has a beautiful voice. A voice made to sing this melancholic Christmas classic. Again it’s not her fault that it pushes (Y/N) even closer to a breakdown. Only this time it’s not because of her current predicament. This song rips open wounds far older. Far deeper. Far more painful than anything life can possibly throw her way today.

Christmas lights paint the outside of Hawkins High in a kaleidoscope of bright colors as the soft fall of snow dusts the streets in a blanket looking like sweet powdered sugar.

The music coming from the inside floods out of the gym halls and reaches all the way to where Eddie’s van is parked at the edge of the parking lot. 

The icy cold nips at their noses as Eddie and (Y/N) sit in the back of the car, feet dangling above the ground and the smell of weed wafting through the air. 

“You’re a liar!” 

“No, I’m not!” 

“Eddie, you can’t be serious. Grandma got run over by a reindeer is nobody’s favorite Christmas song! “ 

His dopey smile sends little shivers down her spine. It always does. If there was a price to win for having the best smile, Eddie would always win. At least in her eyes. His smile is phenomenal. It’s breathtaking. It’s perfect. Sure, maybe it’s her loved-up, 16-year-old self talking who is completely, utterly, and unlucky in love with her best friend. But (Y/N) thinks of herself as a rather rational person and she’s almost sure it’s a widely known and accepted fact that Eddie Munson has the world’s best smile. People would have to be insane not to agree.

“Well, it’s mine.” 

A frustrated huff falls from (Y/N)’s lips as she lets herself fall backward into the nest of blankets spread out behind them only for Eddie to follow suit just a second later.

“I can’t believe my best friend has the worst taste in Christmas music.”

“Hey, you are the one whose favorite Christmas candy are fucking candy canes.” 

Their laughter echoes through the air like a song. One of hope and happiness and magic. This is what Christmas should always feel like, (Y/N) thinks. Easy and joyful and soft. 

No stress and no fighting. No rush to be anywhere or do anything. Just here. Just this. 

Her and Eddie and the snow and the sparkling lights. And some pretty good weed.

“Okay, okay next question. Ummm — what’s the best Christmas gift you’ve ever been given?”

You — she thinks. The words tickle her at the tip of her tongue, ready to slip out. She can just barely swallow them back down. Really, it’s not something you tell your best friend. Even if it’s true. He came into her life during the Christmas season and he’s been the best thing to ever happen to her.

“My record player, probably.”

“Good answer.”

It’s silly — she’s well aware, how much Eddie’s approval means to her.

“What’s yours?”

“Nuh-uh. Can’t ask the same thing!” 

Rolling her eyes at his antics she tries to come up with a different question.

“Okay then, what’s your favorite Christmas memory?” 

Eddie considers his words for a moment, carefully crafting a response as if all the world’s fate depends on his reply.

“When I was a kid and had just moved into Wayne’s trailer permanently, that was the first proper Christmas I ever celebrated. It’s not like we had much or anything but it was a lot for a kid who never had anything. Wayne cut down a tree but we couldn’t fit it in the trailer so we put it up outside. Ate Chinese takeout and watched White Christmas — and I got a present.”

“What did you get?”

“A guitar.”

“Did you get Wayne something?”

“Mmmh a mug.”

Her heart fills with delight and love as he tells the story. Eddie rarely talks about his early childhood. Sometimes it feels like Eddie before Wayne never existed. And though both would never admit it, they love each other dearly. They don’t say it out loud but you can see it in so many things, including all the mugs proudly on display, hanging from hooks in the living room area of the trailer. Dozens of “thank yous” and “I love yous” captured in porcelain.

“ Have yourself a merry little Christmas — “ 

“ I love this song!” 

“You do?”

“Mm-hm” 

Eddie glances at her from the corner of his eyes then looks back towards the roof of the van. There’s a shyness about him suddenly, one she has seen so very rarely. Eddie isn't shy. He's loud and confident even if half of it is just for show. Overdramatic and dialed up to 11. He's not usually like this.

"Do you um — do you wanna dance?"

"Huh?"

"Do you wanna dance?" 

His voice is clearer now, stronger, more assured. It took a moment for Eddie to hype himself up. Get the confidence to ask the question, not really knowing which outcome he is expecting, which ones he's hoping for.

"Do YOU want to dance, Eddie?"

He lifts himself off of the van and stands before her all lanky arms and wild curly hair. He's wearing a black button-down that he swears he borrowed from Wayne. (Y/N) doesn't buy it though, the shirt looks crisp and clean. Still the blackest of blacks that only lives through maybe 5 machine washes before it dulls to a dark gray.

"Figured it's Hawkins High winter formal. Might as well do what's expected of us. And you like this song so —"

Not wasting another second on hesitating, (Y/N) takes a hold of Eddie’s outstretched hand and lets him twirl her into his arms. His hands are just as cold as hers, ice against ice. And yet she wouldn’t change anything about this situation for anything in the world. If feeling delusionally happy comes with a few sacrifices, like freezing, she’ll happily take the risk.

“Eddie, since when do you dance?”

He shrugs his shoulders “There’s a lot of things I’d do to make you smile.” 

The cold melts away to make room for something else. A warmth that overtakes her, flesh and mind and everything. A warmth from the inside. All consuming. Magical. 

And as they sway to Frank Sinatra’s voice softly carried by the wind, the warmth doesn’t go away. It wraps them in a blanket, shielding them from the outside world. It’s a moment you want to keep forever. One of those where even right then, as it happens, you know it is so much more than a moment. It is forever a part of your story. A part of you. 

Eddie lets go of her hands for a second and bends down before reaching his arm out up above their heads. 

“Oh, would you look at that, a mistletoe.” 

“Eds, that’s not a mistletoe.”

“Yes, it is!” he insists, that signature Eddie Munson smirk on his lips that lets you know that he is well aware that he’s wrong but there’s no way he’ll admit to it. He is committed to being wrong and to making you agree.

“It’s a pine branch. I literally saw you pick it up.” 

Eddie takes a deep breath, the air turning into clouds against the cold winter winds, as soon as it leaves his lungs. 

“Look, humor me here. Let’s just pretend this is a mistletoe and we’re holding up a tradition. It’s soooo much easier than admitting that I am head over heels, absolutely dumbass in love with you and I might go crazy if I don’t shoot my shot and kiss you at least once. Okay? If we pretend it’s all fun and games then it won’t be so brutal when you end up rejecting me. Okay? Cool!” 

For a second she wants to scoff, tell him to stop joking, to stop playing her for a fool. But there is a sincerity in his eyes she can’t deny. A flicker of something that has always been there but she could never really put a name to. He’s not joking. Not even a little.

“ Okay, sure. Let’s pretend it’s a mistletoe. Cause otherwise I’d have to admit that I am also disgustingly in love with you. “ 

He smiles at her again, that big smile that makes her knees feel like jello. The one that could win all the prizes. Only this time it’s hers. This one smile and this one moment belong to her. To them.

“ Guess we’ll have to stick to the tradition then, huh? “

“ Guess so.” 

… and have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

It’s a cold kiss. Lips chapped from the winter winds and cold fingers grasping even colder faces. It’s hungry and soft. It’s desperate and slow. It’s all a kiss can and should be and more. It’s a hundred little moments wrapped in a perfectly imperfect kiss.

“I think —” Eddie says as he pulls away just far enough to speak. “I think this is my new favorite Christmas memory.” 

A flurry of snow starts descending from the sky, gloomy gray clouds pushing away all of the blue. Icy snowflakes gather on (Y/N)’s hat, her hair, her nose — shaking her from her daydream. Enough trips down memory lane. They always seem fun and harmless until you take a wrong turn, drive down a backroad and end up crashing the car and watch it all burn.

“Well fuck.” 

It’s bad enough being stuck at a Walmart parking lot, it’s worse when the sky glowers at you, threatening you with the potential of a snowstorm.

“C’mon Sally, why’d you have to do this to me today? It’s Christmas time, don’t you have a heart?” 

In place of a response, the old car lets off another puff of smoke from its popped hood. 

“That sounds like a no to me!” 

A stinging sensation spreads from her heart all the way to the tips of her fingers. His voice still sounds the same as it did 4 years ago. Really, it was stupid to expect anything else. 4 years seem like a lifetime but in reality, they are but a blink. 

She doesn’t dare turn around as if standing there unmoving might make him go away. Like a predator walking on, bored by its prey. Only Eddie is no predator. He never was. Though all the town seemed to think differently, he was always a lover and never a fighter. 

“You can say hi, you know.” 

If life was a movie, this would be the slow-motion scene. The turning around looking at the ex, angel choir singing in the background, love instantly rushing back in. 

Only love can only rush back if it ever left in the first place. Not if it was pushed in a metaphorical box, then shoved to the back of a dark metaphorical closet. 

Facing him is scary. It’s also inevitable. Things are so shit today, it really can’t get worse. There’s no way.

He looks hot. And maybe that makes things a bit worse, actually. He’s still got the unruly curls and he’s still tall and lanky but the awkwardness of an 18-year-old has worn off and he looks more like the man he is than the boy he used to be. 

“Hi, Eddie.” 

“Hey (Y/N). You look good — but Sally. I don’t know about her.”

The fact that he talks to her so casually, both enrages and amuses her. Maybe 4 years really are only a blink but that doesn’t mean nothing ever changes. 

“Thanks um — you too. Yeah, she started making weird sounds and then the smoke started and ugh. You think you can take a look?” 

He grants her a smile and she wants to jump in front of a moving vehicle as the flutters in her heart start. It’s ridiculous that he still has this effect on her. Not after everything. Not after that night 4 years ago.

“I can but I can already tell you’re not driving her anywhere tonight and it’s about to start snowing real fucking heavy. Do you — do you want me to give you a ride home? Your parents’ place I mean. I assume that’s where you’re headed? “ 

“Hmm, yup. Uh — you don’t have to do that.”

“I know, I want to.” 

She wants to punch him. Not in the face but maybe on the arm or something. Hurt him but not really really hurt him. For being so nonchalant. Casual. For being so nice when he had none of that to give that one night 4 years ago and all the months after, right until the day she left for college. Does he think this absolves him? It doesn’t. There is no redemption for breaking her heart, no matter how many good deeds. 

But what is the alternative? 

With a look at the sky and the looming darkness, (Y/N) lets out a sigh and grabs her luggage from the car. Eddie’s old rusty van is parked right next to her. It holds so many memories, none of which she wants to revisit.

“Christmas, The snow's coming down … “ 

The choir launches into their next song and a smile takes over Eddie’s face. A smile (Y/N) hasn’t seen in a long time. One that doesn’t have an effect on her at all whatsoever. 

“Why are you smiling?”

“Oh, no reason. It really doesn’t matter.”

Eddie likes Gareth’s house. Not just for the fact that the garage is big enough for them to practice in and his parents are nice enough to allow them to do so. It’s a nice place in general. It’s not big or flashy or anything but it’s homey and nice. For a kid growing up in a trailer park, it’s a palace. Not that he doesn’t appreciate what he has, he does. But it’s nice to dream. To imagine himself in a place like this one day, family included.

Walking up the driveway, guitar slung on his back, the icy ground crunches beneath his heavy boots. The garage door is closed so the boys must not have started practicing yet. Sometimes, when she’s home, Gareth’s mom makes them snacks or hot chocolate and they all sit around and pig out before playing some music. It’s nice of her to care for the boys even if they aren’t her kids. It gives him a little glimpse of what it must be like to have a mother.

“They're singing "Deck The Halls"

But it's not like Christmas at all

'Cause I remember when you were here

And all the fun we had last year” 

A loud voice catches his attention, belting out the Darlene Love song. His eyes scan the neighborhood before settling on the source of the commotion.

The girl stands on a ladder leaning against the house across the street from Gareth’s. A garland of multicolored lights adorns the roof as she regards her work with pride. Her voice still rings through the neighborhood and it has Eddie in a chokehold.

A siren calling out to a sailor, enchanting him, bewitching him. It’s not that her singing is particularly good, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. Yet something about it has Eddie mesmerized. 

It doesn’t seem to bother her what people might think, she’s having a good time and that’s all she cares about. It’s nice, he thinks, to see someone not desperately trying to stick to society’s preconceived notions of what is considered cool. This girl is wearing a big woolen sweater and a hat that seems like someone handmade it and ran out of yarn halfway through so they had to continue with another color. By all means, this girl is not cool. Eddie thinks she might be the coolest person he’s ever seen.

And she’s dancing, shaking her hips to the beat of the song she’s singing. While standing on a ladder. Oh god, she’s dancing — on the ladder.

Life shifts into slow motion. He can almost see it happening before it does. One dance move a little too enthusiastic. A slip. A tumble. A thud as she hits the ground. It happens so slowly and too fast for him to intervene all at the same time. Though as soon as she hits the ground, Eddie shakes out of his mesmerized state and rushes over. 

She’s looking up at the sky with a face scrunched in pain and what he can only assume is embarrassment. Her back is flat against the cold snowy ground.

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

The girl slowly pries open one eye and glances at him in confusion. “Are you an angel?”

“Uh no — I’m just Eddie. I’m a friend of Gareth’s. He lives across the street. Did you hurt your head? “

Pushing herself off of the ground into a sitting position the girl smiles up at him sending tiny flutters through his heart. She’s gorgeous. Even with her mismatched hat and the snow in her hair. 

“I’m okay. Just a bit bruised but I’ll be fine.”

“You sure? That was a mighty fall.” 

“Was it embarrassing?” 

“I don’t think anyone but me saw. And I for one think you put on one hell of a performance.”

Her laughter, he thinks, might be even better than her smile. 

“Now you’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not. I promise. Hey, what’s your name? “

“Oh sorry, so rude of me— “ she exclaimed before standing up and holding a glove-covered hand out to Eddie. “I’m (Y/N). I just moved here.” 

“Well, again, I am Eddie. I’m in a band with Gareth who lives over there.” 

“You’re in a band? “ her eyes widen at this revelation. 

“Mmh. Corroded Coffin. We play mostly metal stuff.”

“That sounds amazing!”

That’s not the reaction he’s used to. Girls don’t usually take too kindly to his taste in music. It’s not to say there are none who enjoy metal, he just hasn’t found them yet. Until now it seems.

“It does?”

“It does! You think the band would be okay with me sitting in and listening to you guys practice? I don’t really have any friends yet and — “

“Yeah sure, absolutely!” 

There’s no doubt in his mind the guys will be ecstatic. It’s not every day a pretty girl shows interest in their band … or them. 

“Okay cool. Awesome. “

Walking towards Gareth’s house, their boots leave imprints on the fresh snow. A sign that makes Eddie aware that this is not a dream. This is actually happening. Maybe life is finally turning for him. Giving him something good. Someone special.

“Christmaasss, the snow’s coming down.” 

She responds to his singing with a friendly shove of her shoulders against his “Oh come on. Now you’re taking the piss.” 

“I’m not.”

She raises her eyebrows in disbelief.

“Okay, maybe a little.”

“You know what that means, right?”

“What?”

“Now you have to play the song during practice.”

A smile takes over his face, pulling at the muscles of his cold cheeks. 

“Huh, I think I can do that!”

He doesn’t know how to play the damn song but if it makes her smile like this, he might just have to figure it out.

“ Sooo — how’s the parents?”

Eddie’s voice cuts through the awkward silence. This is strange and unfamiliar. Back then, 4 years ago, there was never a moment of silence with them that came even close to being awkward or uncomfortable. They always had something to say, to joke around and be goofy. Even if they didn’t, they would bask in comfortable silence, happy to just be with each other.

This feels like a whole different life, an alternate universe. There is so much left to say between them, the air is thick with it. But this is not the time and place to say any of it. Maybe there will never be a time or place.

“Yeah, they’re good. I mean dad hurt himself the other day when he slipped on the ice in the driveway but you know how he is. Always clumsy.”

“Runs in the family.” 

Almost. He almost gets a smile out of her. Almost.

“ I guess so. How’s Wayne?”

Eddie grins though he keeps his eyes fixed on the snowy road in front of them.

“Working too much. Watching reruns of the same old show. Nothing changed. Same old Wayne.” 

It has always been like this, Eddie talking about his uncle. Though his words don’t give it away, the tone of his voice always does. It is filled with adoration, with gratefulness, and love. Wayne is the only proper family that Eddie has ever known and though neither of them will ever outright admit it, at least not sober, the two mean the world to each other.

She misses Wayne, (Y/N) can admit that much. He was always so sweet to her, letting her see behind the perpetually grumpy facade and see the soft-spoken, bighearted man he truly is.

“He still smoking?” 

Eddie scoffs “ ‘course.”

“ He promised me he’d try quitting.”

“ He did try, for like 5 hours.”

(Y/N) shakes her head in mock disappointment. “Tell him I am not happy with him. And also tell him I said hi.”

“ Tell him yourself. You can come by whenever. I’m sure you’ll have a lot on your plate while you’re here but he’d love to see you.”

The thought of going back to the trailer fills (Y/N) with a sense of dread. Not because there is anything bad tied to it. No, that’s the problem. All her best memories are connected to the trailer. It’s all happiness and love. The best of times. Going back would only make her face the brutal truth that it’s all over, forever and she can get none of it back. All that’s left of those times are memories and heartbreak.

“ I don’t know, Eddie. I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Why not?” 

He asks the question with the innocence of a child. Someone who really doesn’t see the issue. Sometimes she wonders if he does it on purpose or if he really doesn’t get it. Did he move on so easily? Is this not ripping him apart the way it does her?

“Eddie, ex-partners don’t usually go around to visit their ex’s family for the holidays. It’s — it would be awkward.” 

She can tell he wants to say something. Can almost see it on the tip of his tongue before he swallows it down and nods in defeat.

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.”

The awkward silence is back. Worse than before because now there’s the inkling of guilt nagging away at her. Is she being too harsh? She doesn’t want to hurt or disappoint Eddie, and she’d definitely love to see Wayne. But is it worth it breaking her own heart in the process? Does she not get to be bitter still at the heartbreak and the whole mess Eddie created 4 years ago?

The welcome to Hawkins sign is almost invisible through the thick snowfall as they pass it. It’s weird coming home for the first time in 4 years after spending the last few Christmases on vacation with her parents somewhere. It feels good. Involuntarily, she glances to her left at the boy who, despite it all, still holds her heart in his palms. It feels good and it also feels extremely heartbreaking at the same time.

Static fills the car as the radio signal finally gives up and bows to the harsh winter winds.

"Ah shit, hey take a look in the glove box there's some cassette tapes. I think there's even a Christmas one." Eddie instructs, struggling to drive on the icy roads.

Cold fingers reach out to the glove compartment. The fact that the first thing she sees is a little bag of weed shouldn’t be surprising her, it still paints a little smile on her face though. 4 years but a blink. 

There are several tapes, Eddie’s chicken scratch writing indicating what’s on them. Iron Maiden. Sabbath. That one Beach Boys tape he doesn’t want anyone to know about. 

And then there’s the Christmas tape. It’s the only one he owns. She knows this because she made it for him after complaining that he didn’t have any Christmas music to listen to during the festive season. There’s a sticker of a sparkly gold star and another of a candy cane stuck to the case and in big red letters it proudly exclaims “Eddie and (Y/N)’s MiX-mas tape.” 

She thought she was so clever with that wordplay. If only that naive girl knew how things were gonna end up. 

Shaky hands push the cassette into the player. It takes a moment and then the smooth voice of Nat King Cole fills the silence with his rendition of O Come, All Ye Faithful.

This time she can’t suppress the smile. A memory flushes her brain that is too precious and too wholesome and too — important for her to ever stop herself from smiling at the thought of it. 

And it seems she’s not the only one. 

Eddie dares to glance her way and when he catches sight of her smile, he lets the corner of his lips arch upwards too.

“That was a good Christmas, wasn’t it? “

“ Are you kidding me? That was the best Christmas.” 

“What do you mean, Christmas is canceled? “

A gloomy mood rests over the entire trailer park. Families that had been so excited for the season's festivities, who had spent the last weeks barely getting by in order to save some money to be able to give their kids a happy Christmas, now sit inside their cold trailers with sad faces and heavy hearts.

“Power is out. Wayne and some of the neighbors have been trying to get the emergency generators going but those things are so damn old and no one ever comes around to check on them — you know, with us trailer park people being second-class citizens of Hawkins and all. I could maybe power my amp with that generator but that’s about it. Maybe a vinyl player. “

(Y/N) stands on the steps leading up to the Munson’s trailer, a cold dish of her mother’s casserole in her hand and a big silly red bow on top of her head. This isn’t what she had imagined the night to go. She was supposed to spend Christmas Eve with the Munsons. Watch White Christmas or Gremlins or Meet me in St. Louis while the casserole is in the oven. Maybe get a little tipsy on eggnog. Get a mistletoe kiss from her boyfriend and — if she’s really lucky a dance around the Christmas tree from Wayne. 

But this? This is just sad. A bunch of families who already struggle enough as it is, looking devastated and knowing that if the power doesn’t magically turn on again, not only will their Christmas eve be ruined but so will the rest of their festivities. No one’s gonna come check or repair anything tomorrow on Christmas day. Not for people at the trailer park.

“Well shit,” Wayne’s voice sounds from inside the trailer, “if the power is out that means the fridge is out. All those good steaks I bought can go straight to the trash. So much for treating ourselves for the holidays.” 

(Y/N) never believed in higher powers or miracles or any of that stuff but in that moment something shifts. And maybe it’s just a light bulb moment but it feels like a spark of something magical. An excitement that starts in her heart and spreads all throughout her body.

“Eds, the big BBQ grills out by the picnic tables still work, right?”

“Uh — yeah. Why ?”

The innocence and confusion and softness in his eyes remind her of a puppy dog. Oh, how she loves this boy and all his sweetness. She had a plan for tonight. It was supposed to be their magical Christmas eve and she’s not gonna let anything ruin that for her.

“Christmas is officially back on! Get the tinsel, some candles — oh, and your guitar.”

“My gui — what are you plotting here, babe?” 

“Do you trust me?” 

The fact that he doesn’t hesitate, not even for a second, sends her heart into a little frenzy. It really is them against the world. Against snow storms and power outages and every other obstacle there can possibly be.

“I do! So what’s the plan boss? “

Eddie never believed in higher powers or miracles or any of that stuff. And though he liked to get lost in fantastical stories of magical realms and creatures, he was well aware of the fact that true magic doesn’t exist. 

At least he thought so — until now. 

The trailer park is decked out in ribbon and bows, in tinsel and glitter, There is music flowing from a record player hooked to a generator and steaks sizzling on the grill. People are gathered around a campfire, warming their hands with mugs of hot cocoa. 

An ocean of candles and some battery-powered Christmas lights illuminate the whole place and the Mayfields even dragged their Christmas tree out of the trailer for everyone to gather around. 

There is magic, he thinks and lets his gaze move over the crowd of smiling faces where hours ago all he could see was heartbreak. It’s just not the magic they tell you about in fairytales and movies. It’s a feeling of belonging, of community, of love. 

And maybe, (Y/N) is a little bit magical herself.

“ Hey Rockstar, “ the enchantress in question slides up next to him leaning against his van. “ Think the crowd is asking for a song.” 

“ The crowd or you?”

“ Oh, definitely the crowd.” 

In the candlelight you might mistake her for an angel, Eddie thinks. All golden glow and loving eyes. Whatever it is he’s feeling for this girl, he’s never felt this way about anyone else. For a while it was terrifying. Like all new things. Even the good ones. It was unfamiliar. Strange.

He’s not so scared anymore. Not when she looks at him like this, all gentle and soft. No rough edges or sharp points. It might be time to be brave and let himself feel all the big feelings that used to scare him so much. He thinks the big feelings might just be worth it.

“Hey, what you did for all these people today was — I don’t really know how to say it. You’re just so wonderful and kind and — yeah I don’t know. “

Glove-covered hands take a hold of his face as a cold nose is pressed against his. “Whatever it is you’re feeling right now, I want you to know I feel the same. You don’t have to say it. I know. And I hope you know too.”

He does. Not a doubt in his mind.

“You saved Christmas, baby.” 

“I’m like a reverse Grinch. And judging by the color of your nose you might just be Rudolf. Go get your guitar and play us some tunes by the fire. Crowd is asking”

He places a kiss on her lips. She tastes like hot chocolate and peppermint candy canes. Christmas personified. And if he didn’t love her so much he’d think this is awfully cheesy. It is, he’s not going to deny it. But he likes cheesy if it involves her. 

"Alright. But just for the record, I’d play even if it was only you asking me to. I’ll do anything for you.” 

He’s well aware that what she asked for was some melodic tunes on his old dusty acoustic. Something peaceful and slow. And really, he appreciates a good acoustic song, he likes playing them too. But this isn’t where his heart is. It would truly be a disservice to all of humanity if he were to deny the people his electric rendition of O Come, All Ye Faithful. 

There have been noise complaints before, especially when he first got the electric guitar. He can’t really blame people either. It’s loud and he just gets so lost in his music sometimes he forgets there are people around who maybe don’t want to hear him play.

They all don’t seem so bothered now. Everyone has a smile painted on their face. The sadness is washed away, lost somewhere in the candlelight flicker and the crackling of the fire. 

Eddie never had a big family, hell for most of his life he didn’t have anyone worth being called a part of his family. Not until he got sent to live with Wayne. He wonders if this is what it feels like. This sense of belonging of being a part of something bigger. Even if this moment, like all moments before it, will pass and one day only be a memory, he got to be a part of it now and that means — everything.

His eyes meet Wayne’s across the fire, who gives him a friendly nod of his head and while it means nothing to everyone else, Eddie knows what it means. It’s “I’m proud of you, kid.” 

And when he moves his gaze to the right, towards where (Y/N) is bundled up in one of his big flannel jackets, sipping on a mug of hot chocolate, his heart feels lighter than it ever has. 

“I love you”, she mouths to him as the battery-powered Christmas lights dip her in hues of blues and reds, and greens. 

“ I love you too,” he mouths back. And it’s not scary at all. In fact, it is the easiest thing in the world. 

“You really did save Christmas that night!” 

“ Don’t be dramatic, Eddie. I just — I did what I could. You and Wayne and the neighbors helped too. It wasn’t just me. And the power came back on like 4 hours later so —” 

“ Doesn’t matter. You made everyone really happy that day. I still get asked to play a song every Christmas eve.” 

Eddie not only has a great smile, it’s also incredibly infectious. It makes you want to join in even if every particle of your body wants to fight it. A losing game. A fool’s war. 

“Well, I got Wayne to dance with me that night. My proudest moment, really.”

“Oh I know”

He gives her a look that’s hard to describe. It’s laced with a secret.

“What’s that look for ?” 

Shaking his head, Eddie sends his unruly curls moving. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” 

Right, cause saying that is the best way in getting people to not worry or be curious.

(Y/N) is just about to continue the conversation, to interrogate him a little more. To really get to the bottom of the look that has settled over his face, when the song switches to the next one.

And that one grabs a hold of her throat and slowly closes its iron fist, cutting off her air supply. 

Devoid of air, devoid of all feelings but heartache, the van suddenly feels like a cage. 

“I really like that song, turn it up — “

She doesn’t turn it up. Her hands don’t move from where they are tightly gripping the fabric of her pants. Clammy and cold like she has suddenly been plunged into a fever.

It’s not a sickness. Just a most horrible memory.

“The lamp is burnin' low upon my tabletop

The snow is softly falling

The air is still in the silence of my room

I hear your voice softly calling”

Gordon Lightfoot’s voice echoes through the halls of the (Y/L/N) family home. Mom must’ve changed the records having had enough of Dad’s rock Christmas compilation vinyl.

The house is packed with people, family and friends, and neighbors. All of them gathered here to celebrate the most wonderful time of the year. If things were different (Y/N)’s heart would be full of love and gratefulness. To see all her loved ones together. To have a house filled with laughter and joy. 

Instead, she finds herself leaning against the wall looking out of the window into the inky black night. Snow is falling softly making this whole scene feel like a cheesy Christmas movie. 

Only Christmas movies always have happy endings and there’s a stinging sensation in her heart that tells her this one might not. 

“Honey,” her mother’s warm gentle hand takes a hold of her shoulder “ the Lintons are here. You remember their daughter Mary? She went to college last year, wanna go have a chat with her? Let her tell you about what to expect? “

Just a few days ago she would’ve jumped at the chance. Excitement would have flooded her veins and dreams of a future filled her head. Only that future seems like a distant dream now. One made up by a silly little girl who believed in fairytales and happily ever afters. And a love that lasts forever.

“I uh — I’ll be there in a minute. Just wanna see if Eddie makes it or not.” 

“ Oh, he’s not here yet? “

No, mother. Obviously not. Otherwise would I be standing here like an idiot watching the window like a delusional child waiting for Santa to never come? 

“ Not yet. We — we had a fight. Not sure he’ll come by at all.” 

“Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I’m sure you’ll figure it out though, you two always do.”

They do but things have never been this bad. He never said the things before he said that night last week. He has never looked at her like that either. 

“Have you tried calling him?”

Calling him? No, obviously not. That would feel like admitting to being wrong. And she isn’t wrong. She wasn’t wrong that night either. Is it so bad to wish for a future together? To hope and to dream of something magical? 

“Well maybe then we aren’t meant to last then. What do I know?!“

His words still sting. It stings worse to know he didn’t immediately regret them after they tumbled from his lips. 

“No.”

“Well, okay. Just come join us when you’re ready. And let me know if there is anything I can do.” 

Her mom pulls her into a warm hug. She smells like wine and cinnamon and jasmine perfume. She smells like mom and Christmas and for a second (Y/N) feels a spark of contentment. 

The spark diminishes the moment her mother leaves to go mingle with the rest of the guests. 

Then it’s just her and the night and the empty street and a heart shattered into a million pieces.

She goes through motions like a zombie. Greet guests, hugs, handshakes, smile and nod, eat, drink, give short but friendly answers, try not to fall apart, smile, hug, drink, watch the clock, look out the window, smile. Smile. Smile.

As the lock clicks into place, (Y/N) leans against the counter of the bathroom, hands gripping the fake marble countertop as if it’s the only thing keeping her afloat. Maybe it is.

It’s almost 10. Party started at 6. He knew. He knows. 

He’s not here and he probably won't be. 

Tears are threatening to fall. Gathering at her lower lashline, turning her eyes glassy. A knot builds in her throat, impossible to swallow. Maybe, she thinks, this is her heart making its way up her body to be thrown up and discarded. Ain’t usable anymore anyway.

Maybe it’s time to admit defeat. To pick up that stupid phone and call him. If not to bring him here at least to get closure. To know for sure he isn’t coming because he doesn’t want to and not because he lies bleeding in a ditch somewhere on the way to her house.

Wiping the tears and fixing her mascara, she makes her way to her room and picks up the phone. Eddie always makes fun of the lip-shaped phone but she loves the thing. Remembering them laughing about it makes her sick.

It rings once. Twice. Three times.

Then a Munson picks up. Not her Munson though.

Wayne’s sleep-laced voice croaks out a tired “hello?”.

She almost feels bad for waking him. But this isn’t her fault. Is it?

“Hi Wayne, sorry for waking you. I was just wondering if Eddie is home?”

“Uh, no sweetheart. Him and the boys are out I think at the Hideout? I’m not entirely sure. I think that’s the place he said.” 

One time, when she was just 5 years old, (Y/N) got a sparkly princess dress for Christmas. It was pink and full of glitter and sequins. She loved that thing. Wanted to wear it every day. Refused to take it off when they went to see her grandparents. So her parents let her. Actions and consequences. She wore that thing even when they went outside to play in the snow. She still remembers how fucking cold that was. It chilled her all the way to the bones.

Hearing Eddie choose to go out drinking instead of seeing her makes her feel a different kind of cold, but one that is just as chilling, just as all-consuming.

“Okay, yeah that must be it. Thank you, Wayne. Bye.” 

The click of the receiver as she puts it back down sounds deafening through the silence of her room.

Her cries are silent though, just tears. There’s hardly room to breathe in her lungs, let alone sob or scream. But then again, pain doesn’t have to be loud to be serious. 

20 minutes later she stands in the living room, some glass of non-alcoholic cranberry cocktail clutched in her hand. 

Mom’s record is on its 3rd or 4th loop because they keep putting the needle back to the beginning and no one bothers to change it.

She’s wearing the red crushed velvet dress that Eddie loves so much and she feels like a goddamn fool. 

But life keeps moving whether you're ready or not.

So she drinks and she eats and she hugs and she smiles. Only this time her eyes never wander over to the window. Not once. 

“Hey, why did you skip the song? I said I like it.” 

“Well I don’t” 

“You put it on there!” 

“Yeah 4 fucking years ago. Eddie this, “ she says and motions with her finger between the two of them “doesn’t change anything. You driving me home. Us reminiscing about the good old times. We’re not friends and I’m still angry at you.” 

“For what? Why are you angry at me? What did I do?”

He says it with such absolute disbelief and confusion. As if he really doesn’t know. 

Does he really not know? 

“Eddie, you broke up with me. For absolutely no reason. “

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on now. Don’t play dumb. We had this stupid fight about college and how I wanted to help you with your grades so you could graduate and you blocked me out completely. And every time I talked about our future you got all pissy.”

“ Because I was embarrassed!” 

“I get that I really do. But I was so understanding and you just brushed it off like our plans didn’t mean shit to you. And then you broke up with me.”

“What are you talking about? I never broke up with you! You broke up with me!” 

He combs his fingers through his hair with irritation written all over his face. What the fuck does he mean? She wasn’t the one breaking up. He was! 

He was …. right ?! 

“ You literally said and I quote ‘Well maybe we aren’t meant to last then. What do I know?!’“

“Yeah, I was talking out of my ass. I was frustrated and sad and angry but not at you. At myself. And I never broke up with you.” 

It’s like the earth shifts. Tectonic plates crashing into each other, shaking everything up, plunging the world into chaos. Her world at least. Everything she thought she knew about him and her and them now seems like a maybe — a perhaps.

“Then why didn’t you show up at my family’s Christmas party? I asked you to come.”

“And then in the car after our fight, you said not to bother.”

“Because I thought you had broken up with me.” 

“And then I woke up to a box of my things on the steps of the trailer.” 

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year !” 

“Oh for fucks sake.” 

“It's the hap-happiest season of all”

It was supposed to be. Only it fucking isn’t.

They were supposed to be driving to lovers lake and meet up with some friends, go ice skating, have a good time, and be a loving couple.

It wasn’t supposed to end up with her head leaning against the car window, watching the snow flurry outside and wiping away tears in a way that she thinks he doesn’t notice.

He notices. And he hates himself for making her cry in the first place.

“I don’t understand why you’re being so weird about this. I just want to help you, Eds. I have this whole plan set up on how to get your grades back on track. But I need you to work for it. If that is too much to ask then — I don’t know.” 

“ No, go ahead. Say it! ” 

“ I don’t know what you mean.” 

“If it’s too much to ask then I will just end up not graduating and all our perfect plans will be ruined.” 

“I never said that”

He knows he is being unfair. It’s not her fault. In fact, it is entirely his own. He’s awfully aware of this and maybe that’s the whole point. This is on him and she should not be the one having to bear his luggage. They’re just 18, it’s too much of him to ask her to deal with his issues, save him from his own demons.

Nevertheless, it sucks. So bad. 

That future she was talking about, dreaming of, he wants that too. More than anything. But it was always too good to be true. Dreams like that aren’t for a boy like him.

He’s not gonna graduate this year, no matter how many study plans and extra work and confidence she puts in. He’s the king of lost causes. Everyone knows. Maybe it’s time for her to realize it too. 

She will stay. For him. Wait a whole year. Put her life on pause. All just for little old him who doesn’t deserve it. Only to what? Realize next year that all that confidence and trust was utterly misplaced.

“You don’t have to say it for it to be true.” 

“Why are you being so unkind? I’m trying to help you.”

“Well stop trying! It’s not going to work out.” 

She’s quiet for a moment and it just about kills him. This isn’t about her or them even. She has to know this, right? That he appreciates her and everything she does. It’s just — useless.

“This as in you graduating or this as in us? “

He hates where this conversation is going. He never meant for it to go there. He loves this girl, he doesn’t want this to end. 

But this stupid self-destructive part of him just can’t seem to shut up. It’s like the devil on his shoulder has completely smothered the angel and is whispering all the wrong things into Eddie’s ear. 

“The graduating part but maybe —”

“Don’t. Don’t even finish that sentence. What about our plans? What about being meant for each other?”

Shut the fuck up. His mind is screaming at him to just keep his mouth shut. To pull over and kiss her stupid and tell her that they are meant to be together. That she is it for him. Now and then and forever. But the reality of it all is that she deserves so much better. And his demons scream louder than his heart beats. 

“Well, maybe we aren’t meant to last then. What do I know?!”

Never in his life will he forget the way she looks at him then. Utter betrayal floods her eyes. Disappointment. Heartbreak. He hates himself for doing this. Why can’t he ever keep the good things in his life? Why must he always mess things up? No wonder everyone leaves. He wouldn’t stay either. The self-sabotaging mess that he is.

“You been thinking about this for a while? Us?”

“ No, of course not. “

“Then why are you saying these things all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know, okay? I don’t know (Y/N).” 

It’s the first time he’s ever raised his voice at her and it feels disgusting. Vile. If only he could be like the heroes or magicians in his favorite stories. Brave and strong and maybe possess the magic to change the past or travel back. Back to when things were good and he was able to push his demons back into the furthest corner of his mind. 

“Well, my mom’s Christmas party is this weekend so you better figure it out, or don’t bother showing up. Let me out here.” 

“ It’s snowing.”

“Eddie, let me the fuck out. My house is just down the street. I can literally see it from here.” 

He drives alongside her all the way to her door. She doesn’t look back at him. Not a glance. Nothing.

“It’s good like this. You don’t deserve her anyway.” 

He wonders if the devil on his shoulder is truly louder or if the angel is just agreeing with him. 

“It's the most wonderful time

Yes the most wonderful time

Oh the most wonderful time

Of the year”

“Oh fuck off, Andy!” 

Disgusting. He feels disgusting. Disgusting and sad.

There’s a Christmas party going on right now that he’s supposed to be at. But she doesn’t want him there. Not like this. A guy who can’t even graduate from high school. Who will only hold her back? 

He’s sad and drunk. Wayne thinks he’s at the hideout with friends when in reality he just drove his van down the snowy roads of Hawkins, going all over the place except her street. Because he’s scared of what he might see. 

It would’ve been so easy to just take another right turn and knock on her door and say sorry. But what if by now she realized how much better off she is without him? 

So he doesn’t show up. Instead, he drives back home, parks the van behind the trailer and gets drunk. And because he is a huge masochist and loves hurting himself, he puts on the Christmas tape she made for him.

“Ding Dong. Ding dong. It’s the most — “

“Ding dong. Ding dong. Shut the fuck up, Andy!” 

It’s all too much. The songs and the weather and the heartbreak and the self-pity.

Slowly he drags himself out of the van and up the trailer stairs. His feet feel heavy, his heart even heavier.

A wave of warmth engulfs him suddenly as the door swings open. Wayne looks less than excited to see him. Why would he be? If he weren’t so drunk, maybe Eddie would notice the softness in the man’s eyes. The concern edged onto his face.

“Kid, you okay?”

“Just peachy, uncle Wayne.”

“Mmh. Well (Y/N) called asking for you.”

It feels like a bucket of cold water being poured over his head and suddenly all the haze of the alcohol is gone. She called. She cares. Oh god, she still cares.

“What did she say?”

“Not much. Just asked if you’re home.”

“And what did you tell her?” 

“The truth. That you’re out with the boys.”

“Ah shit Wayne, what’d you do that for?”

“What? What was I supposed to do? Lie?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not going to do that. What is going on, Eddie?”

A shuddered breath leaves Eddie’s lips.

“We had a fight. A bad one. I messed things up. I gotta go see her. Shit, I gotta fix this.”

Wayne reaches out and grabs a hold of Eddie’s jacket, pulling him into the warm trailer.

“You’re not going anywhere, kid. You’re drunk. I sure am not gonna let you drive in this state. Go to bed, get a good night's sleep, and tomorrow morning you can drive over and fix it. And you need a goddamn shower.” 

He falls asleep at 4am. Wakes up at 6. He has a whole speech prepared. Starting with I’m sorry and ending with I love you. He takes a shower, gets dressed. He even wears the sweater she likes so much. 

And as he pulls open the door he is greeted by a box of his stuff sitting on the steps of the trailer. 

“So we both thought the other broke up and actually neither of us wanted to actually break up?”

“God, what a mess, Eddie.”

She’s not sure if she wants to laugh or cry. It’s all too much. Her heart is beating too fast. Her mind is racing. 

“What do we do now?”

“Nothing, Eds. It’s been 4 years. What does it matter now?”

Everything. It matters and it changes everything but admitting that is scary. 

Eddie pulls up the gravel driveway of her childhood home. Two heavy hearts and a million unsaid words fill the car as she grabs the door handle.

“Is this goodbye again?”

“Neither of us said goodbye last time.”

He lets out a humorless chuckle.

“You have a point. First time for everything, huh?”

A stinging sensation starts behind her eyes, pushing the tears to the brink, as she steps out of the car and out into the harsh winter winds.

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Hey, (Y/N)” He calls out as she drags her suitcase up the steps of the house.

“Yeah?”

“Just for the record. Even if it doesn’t change anything. I still love you. It matters a lot to me that you didn’t want us to end either.” 

He doesn’t know what hurts more. The fact that she nods or watching her walk away and close the door behind her.

She didn’t say goodbye this time either.

Oh, holy shit — she didn’t say goodbye!

“What’s this?” 

(Y/N)’s mom sits at the kitchen counter, a mug of coffee in hand and a mischievous smile on her face. It’s way too early for any of her shenanigans even if they come in the form of a vinyl record wrapped in a big red bow.

“Don’t know. It was there this morning when I opened the door. Right there on our front porch. Looks like a record to me though.”

“You know who left it?”

“No,” mom shrugs and points to the record resting on the kitchen table. “There’s a letter though.” 

It’s a small blue envelope and her name is written on it in a chicken scratch she immediately recognizes. At least it’s still shut which means her mother hasn’t peaked inside and studied all the contents of the letter.

“When did he bring this?” 

Her mom denies everything. Even goes as far as throwing her an “I don’t know what you mean”. What she doesn’t account for, is the fact that she is a horrible liar. Truly abysmal.

“Of course you don’t. Well, I'm gonna go upstairs and read this. In peace!” 

Her mother’s laughter follows her all the way up until she closes the door to her childhood bedroom and drops down onto her bed. 

A beehived Brenda Lee smiles back at (Y/N) from the cover of the vinyl record, a present clutched in her hand and a Christmas tree sparkling in the background. 

Why he chose that specific record, she has no clue.

With shaky fingers, she opens and unfolds the letter. Eddie used to do this a lot back when they were together. Leave her letters and notes. She thought it was very old school and very romantic at the same time. Something poetic and artistic about it. Where he wasn’t good at saying the words out loud, he was quite the phenomenal writer.

“(Y/N),

let me start by saying I’m sorry. That’s also what I wanted to tell you that night of the party — and the morning after. I should’ve. I should’ve fought for us and told you how I felt even when I thought we were over. I just never felt like I really deserved you and some fucked up part of my brain made me believe that sooner or later you’d realize that too. I guess I thought it was easier this way. Like ripping off a bandaid. It wasn’t easy. Not even a little bit. That part of me is still there, I doubt it will ever go away. But I am better now. I like to think I have matured but Wayne says I just lost a bit of my stupid in the last few years. I graduated! Crazy I know. I have a job now too. And while I will never be the smartest person in any room, I like to believe I made something of myself. You still deserve better but I hope that maybe this version of me can be enough.

I understand if this changes nothing for you but it changes everything for me. I still love you as much as the moment I saw you fall down the ladder, or kissed you in the snow, or watched you save Christmas. 

I knew we were gonna be forever when I watched you across the trailer park, illuminated by candles and Christmas lights. You were dancing with Wayne! It’s the first and only time I’ve ever seen him dance. Both of you were laughing and life just felt like a movie or a song or both. 

Brenda Lee was playing in the back and I knew I loved you then and I would love you forever. You were my family then and you always will be.

Now I’m not expecting you to come running back into my arms and start back up where we left it but if you find the time in your busy schedule to come see me during your holiday visit, that would mean the world to me. 

Maybe listen to some Christmas tunes.

And even if you don’t I just wanted you to know that my favorite Christmas gift was you. Every year that we were together, it was always you.

I love you (still)

Eddie. “ 

A frantic knock sounds from the front door of the trailer and shakes Eddie from his nap on the couch. After not being able to sleep at all last night he must’ve dozed off somewhere between the morning cartoons and the breakfast TV.

He really needs to get Wayne one of those big ass keychains that you can clip to your jeans or something. That man forgets his keys at least 3 times a day.

“I’m coming, geez. Wayne, you really gotta — You’re not Wayne!” 

She regards him with a smile and that special spark of magic in her eyes. The one he hasn’t seen in 4 years. The one he so desperately missed.

“Well, I hope not. Otherwise what I’m about to do would be pretty weird.” 

“What are you — “

But he doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence when her lips meet his in a kiss. It’s sweet and chaotic and rushed and soft. Familiar and nostalgic. She feels so cold against his warm skin but she still tastes like peppermint and smells like winter.

“ So, “ she says as she pulls away from the kiss, just barely but enough to take a breath. “ wanna listen to some tunes?”

The Brenda Lee vinyl is clutched in her hand as she bites her lip in anticipation.

As if there’s a chance he’d ever say no. 

“There’s nothing in this world I’d rather do.” 

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Recently I’ve been having ideas about Eames.

TH Masterlist

Now, before any of you are going to wonder what kind of psycho I am, let me explain why this came up in the dark corners of my mind.

So, in Inception, we basically get little info about Eames. All we know is his surname and that he’s a damn splendid trickster. What is his story? What did he do before Dom approached him and the events of the movie took place?

Who is Eames?

I know I’m heavily diverging from canon here, but that very question spawned a concept I can’t stop thinking about.

Prof!Eames who stalks the cam girl he’s obsessed with and so happens to be one of his students.

*sips her coffee* Yeah, I know. But hear me out.

His online username is GentlemanSir.

He went to great lengths to grab your attention. Making multiple donations during streams, sending gifts and letters to your P.O. box, instructing the barista at the café you frequent to give you handwritten notes with your coffee but remain silent about him being the secret messenger.

Truth be told, he actually gets off on the idea he holds financial dominance over you.

Eames remembers fondly the absolutely flabbergasted expression on your face, the haze of pleasure temporarily lifted, when he donated once again a sum of money running into the hundreds.

It wasn’t so much the number that caught your eye. No, it was the message.

‘For groceries and to buy something nice for yourself.’

That certainly had him score brownie points with you. Sure, the money was nice, but it was the thoughtfulness of his words which drew you to him.

Very well aware of this, having overheard a couple conversations between you and your friends, Eames continued to accompany his donations with sweet messages.

Sir’s proud of you, taking such a big dildo. But don’t forget to drink water, darling!

Take a shower before you go to sleep, poppet. If I was there, I’d wash you and tuck you in.

I really like the new pink lingerie. Here’s some pocket change so you can buy some more cute outfits.

In class, he’s noticed you’ve become more at ease. Before, you used to have this distracted air, which he deduced stemmed from financial worries.

He’s kept an eye on you, trailing you from a distance after your shifts at your two part-time jobs to make sure you got home safe.

Not gonna lie, he was kind of ecstatic when you mentioned quitting your second job. He’s always admired your drive to balance academics with private and work life, but the exhaustion it caused you only made him amp up his game to get you to notice him.

He’d take care of you.

First behind the scenes.

And later, after graduating, he’d step from the shadows to take you on a trip and make you his.

Eames knows you won’t be able to reject his offer, already having planned what cards to play when your conscience will start to gnaw at you.

Moreover, he certainly had noticed the doe eyes you tend to make at him during lectures and seminars and the way you blush when you say his name, a privilege extended only to you.

He can tell it makes you happy when you call him Ian, especially outside of class.

He’s been working out more because he’s noticed the underlying dreamy satisfaction in your eyes it causes. The height difference helps too, as proven by a happy accidental discovery when he paid for your coffee in the cafeteria.

“It isn’t proper for a gentleman to let a woman pay for her own drink,” he merrily told you when you glanced over your shoulder, cheeks flushed and your whole body slightly trembling.

Had he let his self-control waver, he’d have swept you off of your feet and taken you right there and then. You simply looked too cute.

Too meek.

Incapable of stopping him.

He knows you tend to frequent bookshops in your spare time, so it happens more than once you ‘bump into him’ while browsing them.

He stays close to you under the pretense of protecting you from the other predatory men who fancy they have a chance with you.

In reality, though, the hand resting on your hip stems from the pure need, the instinct, to touch you.

Moreover, he enjoys the way he towers over you. He’s basically the wall between you and the outside world (and everyone in it).

A role which he intends to play until you tell your audience you’re taken by a man who does it like no other and you shut the camera off once and for all.

Until you introduce him to your parents and friends as your husband, the man who provides you with a stable and comfortable life.

Until he is your world.

And in the meantime, he’ll just have to get rid of every obstacle.

One silent bullet and perfect lie at a time.

All behind your back.

So you don’t have to see Sir’s monstrous side.

I’ll admit I went off the rails here, but this is what I’m living for right now. I don’t know how I’d translate this into a wee story or series, if ever I will. All the same, I thought it’d be a nice concept to share.

Tag list: @buttercupsandboys @hecatemoon87 @potter-solomons @alikaheroes @ilovemanypeople @dreamlandcreations @zablife @vir-tual @liliac-dreamer @woofgocows @elijahssuit

[joy-of-life88]

Inked Temptation [a Damian Priest story] 12 Backfiring

Ellie POV

Humming, I packed the last things into one of the many boxes. I could not believe how much stuff I had. But now that everything was packed, I realized the extent of it. I had sorted out a lot and donated it. I had also sold my car. It made more sense to sell it and buy a new one in Florida. To be honest, my car wasn't the best anymore anyway and I wasn't sure if it would have made the long drive at all.

It was good that I had not rented the small U-Haul. Because not everything would have fit in there. The movers were loading the last of the furniture. I was glad to finally be done with it.

These four weeks had been really exhausting. With our work and the need to still spend a lot of time together and then the preparations for my move. Fortunately, all that would be behind us tomorrow. And I was really looking forward to it. Damian felt the same way. Even though it was clear to both of us that it would be a new challenge. Especially because it would probably be pretty cramped with all our stuff.

But should it become too much then we had any time the possibility to look around for a bigger place to stay. Together.

Just as I had these thoughts, my phone rang. I could not help but smile when I saw the callers ID.

"Hi D! How are you?" I asked happily.

"Better when I can see you, baby girl. I'm on my way to get a cab right now. I should be with you in about 1 to 1 1/2 hours. Then I can take my baby to her new home." he replied.

"I can't wait. I hope we didn't get ahead of ourselves by wanting to drive the truck to Florida by ourselves. But I trust you to know what you're doing." I said with a laugh.

"Of course I do, Ellie-Bell. This will be our first extended road trip. And we have a lot of time. This 20 hour drive will go by really fast. Don't worry." he replied in a good mood.

I really hoped that he knew what he was getting into. Because for me, the whole thing did not sound particularly appealing. The only good thing was that I could spend the time with Damian. And then there was the fact that I finally got out of here.

"If you say so Mr Priest..." I giggled.

-------------

An hour later everything was stowed in the truck and I took another look around the apartment. It was strange to see it so empty. Good thing Damian would be here soon.

"Eleanor Robertson? We have a complaint from your neighbors because the parking lot is blocked." I suddenly heard from the stairs.

I turned around and saw two policemen coming towards me. I didn't know one of them, but I knew the other one even better. I groaned. It was so to be expected. The spy wanted to see what was going on and had found a excuse to do so.

"That's not possible. The truck is parked in a designated area and my neighbors have all been informed of my move and the noise and unpleasantness it will cause," I said matter of factly.

"If you don't mind I will see for myself. Lieutenant Henderson, please escort Miss Robertson to the truck to make sure everything is indeed in order." said the older man.

"So it's true.... You're actually moving away from here..." said Scott.

Meanwhile, I grabbed my purse and the bag of prepared snacks and refreshments to take back to the truck. Then I locked the door. One last time. Even though this was so not the goodbye I had imagined.

"Yes, I see you are still doing your job as a spy for my father. Didn't he tell you that it was not a good idea? I don't mind exposing you," I wanted to know.

"You're bluffing. You have nothing on me, El." he said, but his look told me he was anything but sure.

"I have some evidence... And then you can forget about your promotion. So leave me alone already. Or you'll be the one who regrets it. Not me." I replied calmly.

"You shouldn't threaten me. It might backfire on you." he growled.

"Just leave me alone. I'm not afraid of you." I said, then climbed into the truck.

I locked the door behind me. I tried not to let him intimidate me. But it wasn't easy, because I didn't know what he was capable of. Now that I had openly threatened him. Scott was pacing up and down beside the truck. And that made me nervous. What was taking Damian so long? I wanted to get out of here.

--------------

Damian POV

Why did there have to be this much traffic today of all days? I finally wanted to take Ellie in my arms and bring her to her, our home. She had just texted me that she was waiting for me in the truck and that she had news.

But then as we turned into her street, I saw it. The thick cloud of smoke, the flames.... And then I heard the sirens. What the hell was going on?

The cab driver stopped. Then I saw where the flames were coming from. It was burning in front of the building where I was going. There was a fire where Ellie lived.

Without thinking what I was doing, I threw money at the driver and jumped out of the car. I ran towards the building. It didn't take me long to realize that there was a big truck burning in front of the house.

Oh my God, no! It was the only truck around... And that meant Ellie was in that truck.

[tomwambsmilk]

Moving is such a Herculean task it rlly should have been one of the 12 labours…. Obviously you know it’ll be big but you don’t know HOW big. Because you know you have a lot of Stuff and Things but it’s a manageable amount of Stuff and Things right? Except once you start packing the Stuff and Things start multiplying and now you still have the same amount of Stuff and Things to pack but there are also boxes all over your living room floor. So you decide it’s time to get rid of some of your Stuff and Things but what? And how? And now you’re trying to look up donation policies for your local Goodwill equivalent and it turns out they only accept items blessed by a Sapphic witch donated during the 40 minutes where the moon is brightest on the third Thursday of prime number months so now that’s on your to-do list. And then you think that maybe you should just throw out some of the Stuff and Things. Sucks to put it in a landfill but you’re really running out of time and options. So you go to the landfill and they say “give us $10000 to take your garbage” and you’re like excuse me????????? But they don’t budge so you give them your garbage and all the cash in your wallet and then you go home and there is STILL so much Stuff and Things but now there are no boxes. You could’ve sworn you had more boxes but they’ve vanished. So you look for two hours but eventually you give up and drive to Home Depot and buy more boxes and come home and the boxes you couldn’t find earlier are waiting to greet you in the foyer. So now there are too many boxes and now the boxes are part of the Stuff and Things that you need to fucking deal with. Meanwhile your house is getting messier and messier and you don’t understand how this could possibly be because SO MUCH of your Stuff and Things is now in boxes so where is the mess coming from???? Where?????? It has to be self-multiplying. It has to be. You go to bed at night and the clutter fucks and has clutter babies before you wake up. That’s the only possible explanation. Meanwhile you’re standing in front of the stove debating whether to cook (need the energy but do I want to buy more food I’ll have to deal with when I leave??) or eat out (this is costing me so much fucking money already) or eat two peaches and a cheese bun over the sink (this is fine I’m fine). So you take stuff down to start packing your car but your car has definitely shrunk. It wasn’t that tiny before. You used to own an adult’s Honda Civic and now you are presented with a child’s Hot Wheel. Your boxes have grown strange angles that prevent them from sitting neatly in the trunk and every garbage bag of clothing has swollen just a little too big for the gaps you’re trying to cram it and you knew you’d have to make multiple trips but this is ridiculous. So you give up and sit on the ground in your driveway and search the cost of renting a uhaul and then you look at your bank account and the damage deposit you’re not getting back and start cramming the boxes into the back of your car like a reverse birth and when you finally accomplish that you realize that you have left no room for your poor dog who’s waiting for you upstairs with his nose pressed against the window trying to get comfy on a couch full of Stuff and Things because you accidentally packed all his beds already and while you’re staring up at him trying to figure out how to rearrange your car you remember that you still have to cancel your PO Box

[sasquapossum]

In case anyone's wondering why I've been so quiet...

Sunday morning, I started a trip from Massachusetts to Michigan to finish taking care of my mother's stuff. I arrived mid-afternoon yesterday, and immediately set to work. It's grueling, both physically and emotionally, but here's what I've managed to achieve.

Went through the storage area where we had very hurriedly stashed her stuff when she had to go to the nursing home several years ago, plus additional stuff moved from her room after she died, categorizing and prioritizing everything. That's about 150 square feet, stacked about four feet high on average.

Took three full car-loads of stuff to donate to charity or, failing that, to the recycling center. This freed up about a third of the storage area, which is enough to get the overflow out of my brother's garage before he gets in trouble with his condo association. He can park his car in there again too, but that's less of a concern now that winter's over.

Sorted through ten boxes or so of my mother's writing. To be clear: she has always written way more than I do, which is saying some, and AFAICT she printed out and saved everything. Fifty years' worth, often multiple copies, not organized in any way I can recognize, mixed in with everything from medical forms to records of legal battles to catalogs and printed-out receipts for everything she ever ordered online. Now I have two boxes of poetry, one of pictures, and a very small collection of other things that seemed important or interesting or useful.

Picked up what's left of her remains from the funeral home. Most of it is in a bamboo tube designed for scattering - not sure where yet. A very small amount is encased in glass orbs. She always loved ruby glass, so when this idea was presented we both immediately recognized it as the right physical form to remember her with. Everyone, meet my mom (with bad lighting but it's the best I can do right now).

I'm here for two and a bit more days. before I drive to far-western New York for my "vacation" and then from there back home. There are probably more recycling-center trips to come, and another ten boxes of random paper to go through. That's so emotionally draining. Some of her writings are about me, and not always in a good way. Some of them are sappy romantic. Some are graphically sexual. 😱 An awful lot are about the tremendous pain and alienation that she felt during much of her life. I haven't found "Hard Shelled Worms" yet, which is one of the more graphic descriptions of her headaches, but I suspect that I will. When all of this is done I hope to "publish" some of her work online. Seems like the least I could do.

[the-missann]

Hours and hours into the night

“Did I really have to come out with you just to do this?”

Ami, sitting in the driver’s seat of the car, let out a chuckle at his associate as she sat in the passenger’s seat with her body curled up with something on her phone.

“Of course you did. Aren’t you the one who’s always telling us about getting witnesses?”

Cassie let out a small laugh. “To what? A crime you guys are committing? That’s an issue since I won’t lie about whatever I saw here.”

“You also won’t snitch, but that’s not what I was talking about. We’re not committing a crime, someone’s trying to frame my guys—as usual—and I told them lay low for a while. So, they’re helping out one of the churches with a food drive.”

Cassie then took her eyes off her phone for the first time since the car parked and looked out the tinted windows just to see that exact sight.

Several boys around her age were helping to carry boxes or set out food and other items while a small line of people started at the tables.

“What kind of food do they have at these things anyways?” Cassie asked.

“Easy to transport stuff. So bread, soup they can just take from cans donated, and other easily heated foods. One time, I decided to donate something so they could have a hot breakfast.”

“Oh, what was it?”

“Toaster strudels.”

Cassie touched her stomach. “Man that sounds good right now.”

“Have you eaten?”

“No, it’s still school hours and I haven’t gone home yet for lunch.”

“Well, I could have something delivered to us.”

“Nah, you don’t have to do that…” She paused. “Well, if you do, then at least let me pay for it.”

Ami chuckled. “I’m supposed to be getting you something for helping me out.”

“And you should know I don’t like owing people.”

“Why is that? You like to help people, but you don’t want to owe them anything?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t hold stuff like this over people’s heads. Like we’ll go home and weeks from now I won’t even care that you’re making me be out here. On the other hand, I’ve dealt with too many people who use their help as a means to get a favor out of me.” She shook her head. “Since I was a little kid, I had to deal with that, so I learned early not to put up with it.”

“You always sound like you’ve lived a hundred lives.”

“Feels like that sometimes.” She let out a sigh before finally returning her attention to her phone.

“Well, what do you want to eat then?”

She hummed and for a moment, Ami assumed she hadn’t heard him. He looked over and saw her intently focused on her phone. He was about to speak up when she finally spoke again.

“You think you could find a good sandwich place? I’m really craving one for some reason.”

“Oh, for sure. So, can I guess no vegetables?”

“Unless they have cherry peppers. Otherwise, no vegetables.”

“So specific. As long as I’ve known you, I’ve learned there are some people in this world who care for nothing at all and some who care about every little thing.”

“Me being the latter?”

“You know it.”

“I think that’s a good thing. Being picky shows you know what you want. Anything else and you’re indecisive and vague.”

“I feel you there, I guess people just mainly see it as being stuck up.” Ami paused. “Speaking of that, has anyone ever thought you were stuck up?”

“Dude, who are you even talking to? Yes.”

“Okay, okay. I just figured with how shy you were originally that people just figured you to be that, not stuck up.”

“Can I ask why you thought I was shy? I mean, when we first met, you ran up on me asking about some guy I hadn’t seen in a while.”

Ami chuckled. “Well, I didn’t really think you were shy, it was everyone else who made it seem that way. Some of my girls knew about you and they told me you were pretty quiet and didn’t talk in class. I assumed you were shy then.”

“What girls? I don’t remember anyone always being in my classes.”

“That’s because they were really never there. The girls in question were friends and would alternate who’s in class and who wasn’t, but they both barely showed up to school.”

“Oh, that makes sense then. Well, I guess that is how a lot of people saw me. Everyone except Bushi for some reason.”

“How’d he see you?”

“Like normal, if anything he never even noticed I didn’t talk to anyone.”

“Maybe it’s because he’s blinded by-”

“By nothing.” She shook her head. “I think that’s why me and him get along so well. He doesn’t really see me as anything but his friend and I don’t see him as anything but that as well.”

“Friends with-”

“Will you shut up already?”

Ami laughed while finally placing the order and handing the phone over to Cassie for her to put in the payment option. She huffed while doing so, but quickly typed everything in before returning the phone to him and getting back on her own phone.

“Okay, I have to ask this. What are you doing on your phone? You’ve been on it since I picked you up.”

Cassie grinned. “Distracted are we? Simple man distracted by phone.” Cassie giggled.

“More like you’re so intense it’s hard not to look at whatever you’re making that face over.”

“Well… if you must know-” she leaned over presenting her screen to him, “-I’m playing a game. It’s a farm sim and right now, I’m working every day to get everything in the game. The hundred percent is a draining task I have yet to complete.”

“Ah, I’ve seen this game before. Is it really fun?”

She nodded and leaned back in her seat. “Fun for both the casual cozy player and also for the completionist min-maxer like me.”

“Min-max being?”

“Essentially someone who wants to play in the most efficient way possible.”

“That doesn’t sound like you though.”

“I know, I don’t really min-max because I often do things that I like and that are less efficient.”

“And you still complete the game that way?”

“Yeah, it’s actually really cool that I don’t have to follow guides or anything to play at a high level. I just have to find what I like and what works and go with that until I get to the end,” she said with a big smile.

“Man, you’re about to get me into another game.”

With a teasing smile, Cassie said, “maybe you should.”

“Come on, you already got me into that JRPG—which by the way my best girl is still better than your best boy—and actually took days out of my life.”

“Good, you’re living the life of a true gamer.” She paused. “And by the way, my best boy is the most superior character in the whole game by the way.”

Ami leaned back in his seat and shook his head. “Okay, you know what, I’ll try it out for a few days. If I get caught up for hours, I’m calling it that.”

“But this game’s totally casual, you can stop playing for days or even weeks and you’ll come back still able to play. I mean, the game’s core audience are casual gamers anyways, you know, people who are normal and don’t spend seven hours searching for a rare drop.”

The first real pause in the conversation came now and Ami thought on it for a bit longer. Eventually—and like Cassie assumed he would—he caved in and took out his phone.

“You can play it on mobile?”

“Yep.”

He sighed. “Fine, I’ll give it a shot, but you’re helping me learn all the good stuff.”

“Of course, I don’t want you to make some of the mistakes I did.”

“You? Making mistakes? I can’t believe I heard that out of your mouth.”

“I admit when I make mistakes, I just don’t make mistakes that really matter.”

Ami chuckled at her prideful comment and once the game was downloaded, he started to play it on his own for a second before Cassie leaned over to see his screen and their endless conversation went on through the afternoon.

[survey--s]

651.

When was the last time you had a Poptart? About a month ago. It was a chocolate fudge one, I believe.

Do you like hot chocolate? I hate the instant stuff, but I do like proper Italian hot chocolate that's so thick you can stand your spoon up in it - it's basically melted chocolate with cream/milk added. I had an incredible one in Italy once and insisted we went back to the same cafe everyday of our visit haha.

Where do you buy gasoline? The petrol station at the end of the road.

Who made you laugh the hardest today? I haven't really spoken to anyone except Mike but I wouldn't say he's made me laugh. It was maybe the cats lol.

Who was the last person to promise you something, and what was it? Mike promised he'd ring his dad once he went upstairs, and he did.

Would you ever jump into a fire to save your bestfriend? Nobody knows how they'd act in that situation - you generally go into fight/flight mode and react on instinct, which is why I don't think it's fair to judge people based on how they act in an emergency.

Do you have a callus from writing too much? Not now, but I did when I was in school/university.

What was the last thing you failed at? I don't know.

Who is someone you’ve made a bad first impression on? Nobody in particular comes to mind right now.

What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done? I don't think I've ever done anything too horrendous, honestly. Overall I like to think I'm a pretty decent person.

Can you use chopsticks correctly? Yes, but I'm slow.

What was the last movie you watched on TV? Moulin Rouge but it was just on as background noise.

Who is your best guy friend? Mike.

Do you think walruses are cute? No.

What is the correct plural form of platypus? Platypuses.

When was the last time you used a glue stick? About twenty years ago.

What is your favorite form of transportation? Car. It's just the most convenient around here. Public transport is expensive and takes at least twice as long.

Who was the last person to sign off without messaging back to you? Suzanne but it's not exactly urgent. Do you read cereal boxes while you’re eating? Ha, I did back in the day before mobile phones. Or I read at the table.

What’s the last thing you accidentally (or purposely) burnt? Toast. A bit of the crust got caught in the toaster.

Do you know anyone named Trey? No. I don't think I've heard of anyone in the UK with that name.

What was the name of your last or current math teacher? Richard Hobley.

Did you know that there is a Twilight-sponsored Blood Drive named, “Carlisle Would Approve”? Donate blood for Edward? :) Ew.

Do you know anyone with a lip piercing? Not anymore, no. Everyone I know who had facial piercings had them removed.

What did the last tattoo you saw, look like? No idea, Mike is just covered in them.

Do you own any hair ribbons? No.

When was the last time you curled your hair with a curling iron? Never, my hair is naturally curly.

Do your fingertips hurt when you type for a long time? No.

Do you know anyone with a green bookbag? Mike has a green bag. Do you like colorful skinny jeans? I have some purple ones which I like, but generally no.

What was the last reason you were disappointed at someone? I got a cancellation on Tuesday but I'm sure she only cancelled as I messaged her to check something, which is a bit annoying.

Do you like “Juicy Couture”? No.

Where did you buy your favorite pair of jeans from? George.

When was the last time you wore a white shirt? No idea, I pretty much never wear white.

Have you ever given birth? No.

Doesn’t it just sound painful? It sounds horrendous. So does pregnancy. I have no idea why anyone would put themselves through either, lol.

Did you know that the equivalence of a woman giving birth, is a man peeing out a golf ball? 0_o Yep. Which begs the question - WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT.

Do you enjoy making out? Not really.

What color are your nails painted? They aren’t.

What’s your favorite food to put ketchup on? I don't put ketchup ON anything except burgers. I prefer it on the side so I can dip and my hands don't get covered in sauce.

[fridaythe13ththeseries]

Demon Hunter

Episode Recap #55: Demon Hunter Original Airdate: October 14, 1989

Starring: Louise Robey as Micki Foster Steve Monarque as Johnny Ventura (as Steven Monarque) Chris Wiggins as Jack Marshak

Guest cast: Dale Wilson as Faron Cassidy Allison Mang as Bonnie Cassidy David Orth as Vance Cassidy David Stratton as Travis Cassidy Jacques Fortier as Ahriman

Written by Jim Henshaw Directed by Armand Mastroianni

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We open right into the show this week, a van driving at night, with a man and a woman tracking someone via computer and an on screen time stamp telling us it is 11:00pm. We then see a couple of men in a field with some sort of detector tracking device. One relates codes to another, saying he's found their prey. Travis doesn't see the creature, even though Bonnie says he's almost on top of him. Travis runs as something chases him, then attacks, throwing him onto a farm thresher. Vance, Bonnie and Faron Cassidy all arrive too late. Travis is dead.

Cut to the opening, with Steven Monarque listed after Robey and before Chris Wiggins. John D. LeMay is really gone.

Now we are at Curious Goods, it is 11:06pm, Jack is sitting with the lights flickering. Micki says she checked the fuse box. She tells Jack to "just sign it" and he does. They toast to him now being her partner in the store, since Ryan is gone. She tells Jack that Ryan will always be part of her, but just in case, she wants the store in good hands. Jack reluctantly agrees. He then opens a box that arrived from a museum. The museum is answering their mailer. They bought no items from Lewis, but sent them an item that was donated to them in his name. It is an Enochian dagger, from a demon worshipper.

The Cassidy family load Travis into the van, and the dad, Faron, thinks back to him and his boys going after someone or some group that took Bonnie, his daughter. In the present, Vance gets the dad to go with him. We then hear the creature growl.

In the van, the dad says they have to find the creature and avenge Travis. A spot of high evil energy keeps showing on the radar. The dad tells Bonnie to keep working at it and takes Vance out to hunt.

At the store, the lights continue to flicker. Jack is telling Micki what he knows about the demon lore involved with the dagger. A human sacrifice would ressurrect the demon. The caller then sends the demon out to commit tasks for him. They take the dagger into the vault, the power goes out, Jack accidentally cuts himself with it and drops it. Micki lights a match and they see Jack's blood absorb into the vault floor and vanish.

Back at the farm, Faron and Vance continue to hunt the demon, who they believe knows they are there, too. Another memory, of Faron and his sons bursting in on the demonic cult that kidnapped Bonnie. A big fight ensued, and they found Bonnie and snapped her out of the cult's hold on her. Faron then went wild, shooting and killing all of the cult members as his daughter screamed.

11:18pm, Johnny is at home listening to the game and working on a model ship. Micki calls him for help, but their call is broken off. Johnny rushes out.

In the van, Bonnie listens to the others as she works the computer and radar. The men seem to close in on the demon, but Bonnie says interference is blocking her. Faron remembers talking to her after the cult, she says the demon was sent to stop him from killing cult members and their demons. She cries but her father comforts her.

Johnny arrives at the darkened store, calling out. He finds them in the basement with a lantern, trying to figure out why the blood vanished. Johnny gets a hammer, and sees more of Jack's blood vanish on the floor. All the clocks and watches have stopped, as well. Jack taps with the hammer, looking for a hollow sound on the floor. With a crowbar, he gets to work.

At the farm, the men close in as the demon lurks.

Jack pulls up a floorboard with Johnny's help and they find a big space beneath the floor of the vault. Jack looks around and says it is a church of necromancy, where demons are raised from Hell.

Bonnie continues searching with the radar as father and son search the barn and find traces of blood.

In the underground church, the trio explores, Johnny saying there are many tunnels connecting, and Jack says they'll get cement down in the morning to seal off the passageways. Johnny is skeptical that real demons were conjured, but Jack finds demonic contracts the church must have written to raise demons. Jack then figures out why Lewis built the vault in the first place: to hold any uncontrollable demons the church conjured. Jack says only the person who called forth the demon could help it escape. Micki says they need to break whatever contract was written, and Jack says the only way is to kill the caller with the dagger used in the sacrifice. Micki notices more symbols and apparently fresh blood on the doorway arch.

Faron and Vance continue through buildings and passageways searching for the demon.

Johnny finds more blood on the walls, dripping down from all around. Jack tells Johnny to stand guard here so Micki and him can go up and try and decipher the scrolls and parchments he's gathered. Johnny isn't thrilled.

The other men still hunt through old buildings, their demon-Geiger counter still alerting them to the creature. It breaks through the floor to attack and Faron opens fire. Bonnie hears and speeds off to join them. The demon tries to pull Vance through the floor. Faron tries to pull him back, but the monster is stronger. Vance falls, and tries to battle the creature. The monster tosses the man up through the floor and Faron finds him, dead. Bonnie sees the creature and joins her father, who is enraged at his second loss of the night.

At 11:33, Faron and Bonnie are driving the van towards the strange energy force. Bonnie says it is going back to where it was made, then tells her father they should have let the cult have her and he wouldn't have lost both his sons. He dismisses her plea to let the demon go, but her father won't hear of it.

Somewhere, the wounded demon pulls at the knife Vance stabbed it with.

Jack and Micki scour the documents, Micki said the scrolls are signed with the current date. Jack said the demonic scrolls are dated to when they are due, and that's tonight, with the full moon. Jack says that explains the power fluctuations they have been experiencing. The demon is returning.

Johnny finds more blood on the church floor and hears ghostly moans. In the blood, he sees a face, and Jack says souls are gathering. The cult called forth the demon because someone was killing their members and they wanted vengeance. Jack says if the demon kills all it was sent for by midnight, the cult members will be resurrected. Micki wonders if the vault can keep it out, but Jack says the caller will have to return, too, and Micki says that might be someone they can stop. Jack says the symbol on the contract will be somewhere on the caller's body. Just then, a gun cocks behind them.

Outside of Curious Goods, the demon arrives.

Back under the vault, Faron and Bonnie have arrived, setting detonators to blow so they can kill the demon. Faron continues to hold the gun on Jack and crew, believing them to be part of the demonic cult. Bonnie says to kill them now, but Faron wants to stop from scaring the demon away and will kill them after it is dead.

The demon gets closer and closer to the store.

Jack realizes Faron and family were the ones attacking the cult and tries to convince him they are on the same side. Faron doesn't buy it, because he found them in this satanic church. Micki says they just found this tonight, but they don't buy it. Jack tries to show them the demonic contract, but Bonnie snatches it and says it must be one of their prayer books. Micki appeals to them, but Faron isn't listening. He says they loaded the tunnels with TNT. They leave them under the vault, and then Johnny wants to go into the vault to use a cursed antique to help. Jack says no way, they won't use any of those items.

Micki looks around at the faces moaning on the floor. Jack says they are waiting for the demon to finish its tasks. Suddenly a hand reaches up through the floor.

In the store, Faron and Bonnie continue to set up TNT to blow the whole place up. Bonnie goes upstairs. She slips into Micki's room, rubbing her neck. She opens the windows to the outside.

Down below, Jack, Micki and Johnny try to figure out how to stop the caller and in turn, the demon. Johnny again goes toward the vault for a cursed item.

It is now 11:48pm, Johnny gets the floor open and they go into the vault above.

Bonnie is looking at a book as the demon comes in the window. She shows the creature the mark on her chest, letting it know that she is its caller.

Johnny finds the dagger and they head upstairs. Faron is looking around the store, unaware his daughter let the demon in.

Micki says they don't know which to use the dagger on, but Johnny hopes they get lucky the first time.

Faron's counter goes off, he wonders what took Bonnie so long. He tells her to go check on the others downstairs and he heads up as the counter clicks faster. Gun in hand, he searches and is suddenly attacked by the demon, calling out to his daughter as he shoots wildly into the dark. The demon is hit and falls out the window.

Johnny goes to head into the store, but Jack takes the dagger from him.

Faron comes down into the store and sees the demon outside the front door. One of the bombs goes off.

At the vault, Micki and Jack hold the doors open as Johnny struggles with Bonnie, who shoots her gun wildly, then drops it. Micki quickly picks it up, telling Bonnie to freeze. Upstairs, the demon advances on Faron, who runs off.

Micki notices the mark on Bonnie's chest. Faron comes down, then the demon slowly follows. Jack tells everyone to get in the vault, and shuts it behind them. The demon works to get inside. Faron says there has to be a way to stop it, and Jack tells him "or someone" as Micki continues to hold the gun on Bonnie. She gives Faron the gun to prove they are on his side, and Bonnie tells him to kill them. Micki says the demon is there because of Bonnie, and finally she comes clean to her father, admitting she was never kidnapped, unleased the demon and has been hampering his hunt all along. Faron doesn't know what to believe. She said she did all this to protect the cult and tonight can ressurrect those he killed.

Johnny grabs the dagger to stab her, but Faron stops him and the dagger falls. Bonnie opens the vault, and calls to the demon. Faron tosses a grenade, sending the demon to the room below the vault, and Johnny as well. Micki and Bonnie struggle, Johnny fights off the demon, but is losing badly. Micki and Jack watch as Bonnie and her father struggle, then stop. The demon moans and lets Johnny go, and we see Bonnie fall. Her father stabbed her with the dagger. The demon falls into a hole in the floor, apparently to Hell. Faron is distraught, holding the bloody dagger as his last child dies.

Next day, Jack carves the same spell into fresh cement on the church floor as was used on the vault above to keep the cursed antiques safe. Johnny says the dagger can be the first item in his expanded vault, and Jack comments it was used once more than he'd have liked, but sometimes things happen for the best. Johnny wonders if there could have been another way, Micki says maybe if Faron had seen his daughter for who she was sooner. Jack ends with a saying about blind fanaticism.

My thoughts:

Wow. Okay. Lots to unpack here. Definitely see we are in new territory with the show now beginning with a "cold open", as in opening right into the show with the first scene and then the credits after. And LeMay is out of the credits and Monarque is in. I remember watching that the first time and feeling that last bit of the possibility of Ryan being her going away. He is gone.

One thing about this episode I also remember from the first viewing is how dark it is! Back then in '89 on my little TV, it was extremely hard at points to figure out what was going on. Now, it is somewhat clearer, but still not great. When Johnny picked up the dagger at one point I was unsure just what he had picked up.

I liked the little aftermath of Ryan being gone dealt with between Jack and Micki. Smart to keep the future of the store safe, with the stakes at hand. And good to hear them talk about Ryan and not just pretend he was never a part of their lives.

The time stamps on screen counting closer and closer to midnight I get, but all of this happened within one hour? Including them driving all over, going from the farm to Curious Goods, and also putting TNT in all the tunnels? And why wouldn't Bonnie have dissuaded her father from that, if her goal was to resurrect the cult in that chamber? Makes no sense.

The demon acted scared for parts of the hunt. Why was he hiding from the brother? It was a freaking demon! And when it was approaching the store, what would the neighbors have thought?

I liked Johnny's eagerness to use a cursed item to help them, it shows his relative newness to their task, and a bit of innocence. Also liked Jack's steadfast refusal, but then acknowledging that it was needed. But this would have played better if it was a random antique. He himself had said earlier the only way to stop this was to kill the caller with the dagger used. So, why so reluctant other than to have conflict with Johnny?

Micki has come a long way from the start of the show. Here, she's taken charge of making sure the store is safe, is missing Ryan but moving on, and is quick to snatch up the gun and hold it on Bonnie. She's grown so much.

Chaotic episode, a bid muddled, but an okay step into season three. And so much more vault space! Now they have room for things like the mulcher, the magic box and the trephinator!

Next week: Crippled Inside