#I found this poem while looking for inspiration for a story I'm writing with a friend

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Florence watches Chris brush her hair in front of the floor-length mirror. There is something utterly, timelessly charming about a woman thoughtfully brushing her hair. It’s one of the treasured moments that make her feel less tied to her age, less tangled up in history. This – smooth, careful strokes combing through long, raven tresses – is a moment that might as well have occurred a century ago. Even though the brush wouldn’t have been plastic then, and undercuts were not yet in fashion.

Even from across the room she can hear Chris’ heart beating, strong and warm and alive. It’s such a common sound. So normal, so human. Everything she is not.

“You better not be making yourself guilty again.” Chris directs two reproachful eyes Florence’s way, her head still slanted and her fingers still combing through her hair. “I can’t be having that.”

Florence shakes her head, but Chris’ dark eyes narrow and she sweeps across the room to sit down on her lap, all sun-kissed skin and perfumed hair. She winds her arms around Florence’s neck.

“You know Goethe, right?” she asks.

“Mm,” Florence hums, more than a little distracted. “Nice guy, a touch dramatic.”

Chris pokes her in the ribs, making her squirm. “Shut up you didn’t know, Goethe. You weren’t alive in 1832, much less undead.”

“I know of Goethe, yes,” she relents, smiling.

“Well, he knew what was up, all the way back in seventeen-whatever.”

There’s poetry coming. Florence can see it in Chris’ eyes, in the way she draws breath, in the slightest change in her voice as she recites:

And she comes, and lays her near the boy: "How I grieve to see thee sorrowing so! If thou think'st to clasp my form with joy, Thou must learn this secret sad to know; Yes! the maid, whom thou Call'st thy loved one now, Is as cold as ice, though white as snow."

Then he clasps her madly in his arm, Then he clasps her madly in his arm, While love's youthful might pervades his frame: "Thou might'st hope, when with me, to grow warm, E'en if from the grave thy spirit came!

Florence listens, silently, her arms wrapped loosely around Chris’ waist.

“See?” Chris says. “Death means nothing love.”

“I didn’t know you when I was alive,” she says, softly, and painfully fond.

Chris face is close enough to hers for her eyes to be as deep as the night’s sky. “But you love me now.”

“Yes-”

Their kiss only lasts as long as Chris can keep down the rest of her poetry. She rests her head against Florence’s shoulder when their lips part and murmurs:

But from out my coffin's prison-bounds By a wond'rous fate I'm forced to rove, While the blessings and the chaunting sounds That your priests delight in, useless prove. Water, salt, are vain Fervent youth to chain, Ah, e'en Earth can never cool down love!

From my grave to wander I am forc'd, Still to seek The Good's long-sever'd link, Still to love the bridegroom I have lost, And the life-blood of his heart to drink;

She had never cared much for poetry. Not until she heard Chris recite it. “How does it end?” Florence asks quietly. “Your poem.”

Chris lifts her head and gives an indifferent shrug with her shoulders. “They both die, of course, it is ancient. And Goethe loved a tragedy.” She smiles. “But that won’t happen to us. I’ll join you. Some day.”

Florence sighs. Some day. She wraps her arms tighter around Chris, feeling her every breath and heartbeat. “That’s all well and good for you,” she complains. “But I have to face your mother afterwards.”

Chris laughs and it sounds like the memory of sunlight. “It’s her own fault. Tell her that if Ma scolds you.”

She rests her forehead against Florence’s, still smiling like the sun, and Florence can't help but smile back, fangs and all.

“If she didn’t want me to fall in love with you...she shouldn’t have named me Christabel.”

[kaledya]

Hello ! It's just to inform you that I started a fanfiction on ao3 about Sinner's Symphony AU. Its named "Arencha Amendable ?" by marquisev. https://archiveofourown.org/works/55936840

ps : I just create this account, I'm not a social media girly I'm sorry. (writing this little post is taking 80% of my sanity and nervousness)

ps2 : I'm not a native English speaker just like you so, yes... hope you will enjoy it nonetheless!

ps3 : two of my OCs will join your AU. I will try my best to follow your ideas and respect your characters personalities.

ps3 : your art is enjoyable to the core especially your light and shadow work.

have a nice day !

First of all, I'M SO GLAD THAT YOU LIKE MY AU AND MY OCS, YOU MADE ME VERY HAPPY!

Ps:And you really don't need to apologize💖, but I'm glad you made a Tumblr account! I hope you like this platform💖🫂

Ps2: and do not worry friend if your native language is not English! After all, there is a meme among ao3 users If someone says at the beginning of a fanfic that they are not native English speakers, those fanfics are always masterpieces. And this happened to you too. I really liked the fanfic you wrote!💖💖

And if you're writing your fanfic on your phone, I recommend writing it in Google Docs (this way you'll avoid losing your fanfic due to a glitch) And on phones, you can set it to automatically translate on your keyboard which ı hope may help you💖💖

Ps3:And of course, this is your story , you can add as many OCs as you want, I'm sure they are very good characters!

And thank you for respecting my OCs' personalities!

Ps3: I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKE MY ART!

Now it's time to comment:

First of all, I loved the poetic theme in your fanfic. I seriously think it was thought and written in detail. I also think that. I think the names starting with S, which corresponds to the Hazbin Hotel characters in the poem Lilith read to Constantine, are very creative. Chef Kiss 🤌🤌

I also loved the part where the past of Lucifer and Lilith was told. The song they sang there and Lucifer flying with Lilith was really beautiful! And the song you wrote for them was beautiful too!

And I found the design of your OC really interesting, her theme is really interesting, I can't wait to meet the character in the fanfic!

In general, I really liked the parts you have written so far and I think you are creative! and It's really great that you took inspiration from SS and wrote such a good fanfic, I was really happy while reading it.

And believe me, I'm looking forward to the sequel!

[munsonsreputation]

Thinking Of You

eddie munson x fem!reader

inspired by "Thinking Of You" by Katy Perry

word count: [14.6k]

warnings: no use of y/n, angst (a lot of it), yearning for one another, cursing, a tiny bit of physical violence at the end (like two bits), fluff ending (i don't do sad ending here...i'm not sane enough, sorry).

summary: breakups were never easy, especially when you knew that eddie was your soulmate. even when you get a new boyfriend you can't help but think about eddie every time you're with him. so you write a song dedicated to eddie, based on flashbacks comparing your relationships, but not realizing he's there listening...along with your current boyfriend.

“Thank you, everyone!” 

The youthful girl's squeaky voice pitching through the exceedingly powerful microphone and its speakers jerking you out of your blank stare at the stage.

Hands naturally clapping as did everyone else who watched her wave and exit the stage through the back, then come down and take her seat somewhere in the front row. 

This afternoon was Hawkins High’s annual song contest. Few participated due to the particular criteria that the board of administrators created, but those who did had a chance at winning a five hundred dollar scholarship to use towards any college tuition. 

Something you needed. Especially knowing that you wanted to get into a music art school out of state. 

But just thinking about where you found your passion for music and the reason why you were here made your heartbreak a little. Or more like a lot. 

Eddie Munson. 

The metal head with agile fingers striking over the guitar strings and its frets to Metallica or Ozzy was the whole reason you were here in the first place.

He was the one who helped turn your love of writing into music. 

“You could make this into a song you know?” He had said to you, passing back your peer reviewed poem to you with his red markings on the page. 

But really, they were all just compliments in the margins. Commending your use of metaphors and imagery, writing devices he knew made a good writing and even better songwriter. 

Somehow that afternoon, after creative writing class you two found yourself in the drama room, him teaching you how to pick at the strings on the acoustic guitar and coming up with notes and melodies that matched your poem. 

It was love, instantly.  

The way he’s fawned while you played the guitar and sung out the pure lyrics to him that came to you out of now where throughout the day, every afternoon. 

In his bedroom.

In your garden. 

In the drama room. 

Over the phone. 

Your music had no confines and his joy for listening to you, became joy for talking to you, laughing with you, stuttering over notes with you, to being with you wholeheartedly, and thinking of you constantly.

And so it wasn’t unforeseen when he asked you to be his girl by writing you a song. Lyrics laced with pledges of forever and how he’d write songs with you for the rest of his life if it meant spending restless mornings and nights trying to come up with a catchy song together. 

You wanted nothing more than that. Finding comfort in doing the simplest things with him, even if it was just scribbling lyrics into a mangled up journal and fumbling around guitar stings until your fingertips bled. 

But just like every other love story, there always seemed to be something that would spoil the love that you thought you’d never lose. 

“Hey honey.” You shivered, fingers gripping the arm rests when you shifted your head around and spotted the eyes of your current boyfriend Don along with some of his friends who were sitting nearby in empty seats in the small auditorium. 

“What are you doing here?” You quietly hissed harsher than called for, palpable disturbance covering the looks of his friends and specifically your boyfriend, who tilted his head at your remark. 

“To support you! That’s what a good boyfriend is supposed to do, right?” He claimed, as if that would make you feel any better and forget about the agreement you made them make, which was now broken. 

You hadn’t wanted any of them to show up and especially not Don, because the original song you had written for the contest was far from nice towards him. 

In fact, it did nothing but smear his name with the notion that he was second best and was always going to be in your eyes. 

Disenchantment spread on your face, narrowing your eyes at him, “You promised me, Don—you all promised me.” 

“I came all this way to support you and now you’re acting out.” He tried to look even more hurt than you, but you knew it wasn’t right for him to lie and break the one thing he was supposed to keep. 

You were going to counter, to snap back and tell him you didn’t want his support and nor did you ask for it, but your name being announced interrupted you. 

Only giving him a stern look before you stood up, your voice telling him no lies, “Leave before you get your feelings hurt.” 

Eddie sat in the far corner of the auditorium with his legs hiked up on his chair. A hat covering his head and for once his distinct leather jacket in the middle of summer now traded in for a flannel he had borrowed from Wayne—trying to blend into the rest of the audience who were watching in on the open event. 

Before the two of you had separated last summer, you went on to tell him about how during your senior year you were going to take part in the song contest so that you could use the money towards your tuition if you had gotten accepted into your dream school. Sure, it wasn’t no Juilliard, but it was something…something you could afford even if you didn’t end up winning the song contest. 

“Well, that didn’t look too good.” Max muttered faintly, separating her eyes away from you and Don on the other side of the room where you looked rather agitated.

Her best friend El bowed wistfully and propped her cheek on Max’s shoulder, peeking over at Eddie, who looked tense. Following you walk up the stage with your guitar in hand. 

The one and only guitar you had owned.

The one Eddie had gifted to you with your name carved on the back along with butterflies and flowers. The mahogany wood he could never mistake and especially the bright colors of your guitar strap that you had picked up with him at a garage sale. The leather material seeping with nature’s creatures, bumblebees, fireflies, and a whole species of different bugs. 

“M-maybe we should leave.” Eddie considered, swinging his head at the thought of him throwing you off your game if you had caught him here, not knowing if it was ok for him to even be here even if it was a public event. 

He was about to stand up, try his very best to secretly leave without making any large movements or sounds, but El and Max, both reached out and placed a hand on top of his that rested on torn up velour upholstery, “Stay.” 

Eddie gulped, seeing you finally take the stage, settling onto the stool and adjusting the mic stand to your height, “O-okay.” 

You cleared your throat, beaming mildly at the three judges who sat in a row with clipboards and pens in their hands. The women who seemed like the less intimidating one, returned a smile after she had written your name on her piece of paper and reached for her mic sitting on the table. 

“Thank you for participating, dear…why don’t you tell us a little about your song?”

Feeling less nervous than before, you tried to organize a mental outline of what you would say, despite realizing that your boyfriend was going to hear just a smidge of what the song actually meant. 

“I wrote this song actually, just a few days ago…y’know breakups are hard and it’s even more difficult when we know that we lost someone who we couldn’t imagine life without. And, umm, I guess, we kinda all have that one person that we’re never really over, and they’re never really over us too, because there’s always going to be something between you guys.” 

Eddie felt his heart spur, the murmurs of El and Max’s voices dying on his deaf ears as he proceeded to listen to you speak. 

“Holy shit, she’s talking about you.” Max pinched Eddie’s side, but he never tore his eyes away from you, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“No…no she isn’t, she’s not.” 

El groaned, giving Max a roll of her eyes towards Eddie who didn’t seem to catch it, as he was too busy listening. You swallowed, pursing your lips and shaking your head to yourself, a habit that you did when you were having trouble trying to find the right words. 

He knew you only needed a few seconds. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. 

“An—and you’re always thinking of them, no matter who you’re with…romantically or platonically. It’s like this pain and reminder that never goes away and no one can ever take away, because you—you just know that they’re the only one for you…and sometimes it’s better to be alone just thinking of them instead of being with someone else who you know will never be them…you’re kinda just holding out this hope that the one you’re thinking of will find their way back to you.” 

You were rambling at this point and maybe even over sharing, but the judges seemed to like the vulnerability, nodding their heads as they looked down and wrote…good things, hopefully. 

For the first time since you took the stage, did you meet eyes with Don, his friends murmuring to themselves behind him where he sat, hands intertwined together and resting in his lap. Not sure what he was thinking. Perhaps a mixture of confusion and discomfort…but you tried to warn him. 

“…anyway, umm, yeah, this is my song, “thinking of you.”

Comparisons are easily made once you’ve had a taste of perfection. 

Two knocks bellowed against the wooden door, your head turning to see who it was, “Busy?” 

You nodded apologetically, but gestured him in, planting your guitar off to the side when he came close and pressed a kiss to your lips, “How’s writing going?” 

“Still nothing. My brain must be racked or something.” You replied tiredly, drawing open your notebook and handing it over to him. 

The pages filled with sentences, and words that had been crossed off and scribbled over. A case of writer’s block that wasn’t new but absolutely troubling when the song contest was only a week away. 

“Maybe I can help?” He offered with a gracious grin, picking up a pen, tapping the butt of it against his chin, thinking.

“You can write about me and how great of a boyfriend I am?”

Maybe Don was joking, and you were taking it out of context, but he was far from the greatest boyfriend you’ve ever had. 

You knew deep down who that title belonged to and how if he were here right now, he’d offer to take you on a crusade around town to get your mind off of writing. 

Eddie knew you the way Don didn’t.

“Hey, c’mon don’t worry, it’ll come to you in no time…let’s just take a break and go for a ride. No music. Just the two of us talking with the windows down, yeah?”

Eddie was excellent at just knowing what you needed without every trying to pry or offer resolutions that would only leave you feeling more perplexed and frustrated. 

How he could just tell what gears were turning in your head as he stole glances at you throughout the car ride. How you’d stare at the lump of grey clouds and stars in the sky, making himself to slow down so you could build a mental picture to look back on and write about by the time you got back home. 

It was something so special that Don could never achieve. Not the level of perfection that Eddie ever was to you. No matter how generous or thoughtful Don thought he was being, it would never measure up to Eddie. 

Like an apple hanging from a tree, I picked the ripest one. I still got the seed. 

It wasn’t like you weren’t attracted to Don the first time you had saw him or even when you started dating. But it was never entirely about looks when it came to you. 

Don attracted many women in Roane county and here in Hawkins when he started coming for you, but you were never affected by the adoring eyes that swept over him. Strangers coming up to tell you how lucky you were to have such a good-looking man all to yourself. That you had picked the most perfect boy and that they would die to have him like you did. 

You never understood that logic because while yes, Don was a handsome man, it didn’t mean you were satisfied being with him. Instead, it only endorsed the conclusion that you had picked the most perfect boy in the eyes of the others, yet you ended everyday feeling empty and alone.

Nothing but a pit of loneliness. 

And the pathetic part about recognizing this was knowing that no matter who you chose, whether it would be after Eddie or before him, that there was no one in this town, this state, and even in the entire universe that could fill that pit of uncomfortable solitude. 

You said move on, where do I go?

You and Eddie weren’t perfect by any means. You’d both argue; shout a little too loudly at each other or just not talk at all. But that was life and it was normal for couples to go through minor bumps like this—if anything every fight made you and Eddie stronger. 

But it was only a matter of time before strength became weakness. 

“So that’s it?” You stood in front of him with your hands held out, practically gesturing for him to give you something. 

Anything. 

His face was buried in his palms, his back hunched where he sat at the foot of his bed with a million thoughts spiraling in his head. 

“I-I don’t know…I don’t know, alright!” He exclaimed, mopping his dry hands across his face and turning his eyes back up at you. 

Yours were bloodshot from the crying, and you looked a wreck. Tears staining the collar and sleeves of your shirt that you had used as a tissue and exhaustion in your limbs when you felt like sinking to your knees and bawling on the trailer floor until you had to be carried out. 

“How can you not know? I—I don’t even know where this is all coming from…I thought that you said we were going to figure things out when the time came and—and now you just change your mind out of nowhere.” 

Eddie wasn’t a stranger to your aspirations. Dream of which were bigger than this small town, passions that were far too massive to ever stay bound in this state. He knew that were dead-set on moving out of Hawkins as soon as you had that diploma in your hands and an acceptance letter from Cleveland. 

You promised him that you two were going to figure out plans. If Eddie could stay with you a couple months out of the semester and you two could head back to Hawkins to stay with Wayne and Eddie when you had a breaks. You weren’t going to just leave Eddie behind in the dust. There was no way you could do that to him, and you never wanted your heart to go through that type of suffering. 

Eddie stood up, prompting you to step back and give him space, “Figuring it out later isn’t realistic….we need to figure it out now!” 

You furrowed your brows, stepping back into his space. “And who said that? Who made the rules, Eddie?” 

“I did, alright! I did because I know that you’re going to hold yourself back if you stay with me any longer.” He shouted, brushing past you and leaving his room. 

You followed right behind him, tugging at your scalp, trying to get through to him, “Who said anything about me holding myself back? The only person who can make that decision is me!” 

Wayne rose up from his place on the couch where he was watching television on his only day off that week, just to be disturbed by the sudden invasion of his nephew and you, “Hey, hey, come on now…settle down, you two.” 

He got between the both of you, looking at Eddie calmly telling him to cool down, “You tell her that! She doesn’t understand where I’m coming from!” 

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, tugging on Wayne’s arm so you could get a clear view of Eddie, “You’re right! I don’t understand because if you loved me, then this isn’t how you would get about the situation.” 

Tears began rushing down your cheeks while the yelling and argument persisted through the turmoil. Wayne did not know the full story, yet trying his best to diffuse the situation, draping his arms around you in a hug, seeing as though you were hysterical, not hearing any of Eddie’s comments. 

“Stay inside, Eddie!” Wayne hollered, leading the both of you out of the trailer door and onto the porch where you cried into his shoulder, his uncle rubbing your back comfortingly. 

“I—I just don’t…don’t understand.” You told him through harsh sobs, throwing your head against his shoulder where you were sure his shirt was now soaked with tears. 

Wayne didn’t speak for a few minutes, tuning in to your cries in one ear then Eddie’s frustrated shouts from the inside of the trailer. 

“What…what am I s-supposed to do? Where do I go from h-here?” 

You couldn’t move on. Not this easily and not this abruptly. 

But you knew Eddie. He was headstrong. When he made up his mind about something, there was a tough time trying to change it. So you forced yourself to leave without ever going back inside and talking to Eddie one last time. 

I guess second best is all I will know

Days were lonely without Eddie. Months were even more brutal knowing you couldn’t pick up the phone and call him to save your gloom. But the new record store that opened in town seemed to fix some issues you’d been having. Killing most of your time there browsing through vinyls and looking for new records to add to your collection that Eddie had started for you. 

ABBA, Bon Jovi, and even a few Metallica records he picked up for your birthday a few months prior. All of them now sitting on a shelf with dust collecting on the outer sleeves, as you couldn’t find it in yourself to enjoy those records that you and he used to play together. 

It hurt too much to listen to. 

“Is this band any good?” 

“Huh?” You peered up and across from you was the boy whom you picked to be your next boyfriend, Don, holding up the new KISS record that was released early that year…you hadn’t had the chance to listen to it yet, but you knew it must have been good if Eddie liked the band. 

You smiled apologetically and nodded, reaching for the same record and reviewing the tracklist on the back of the cover, “Oh, yeah, KISS is great…my ex boy—an old friend of mine really likes that band.” 

Catching yourself already bringing Eddie up, you cursed silently to yourself, placing the record back on the shelf and stepping away from the metal section of music that you had mindlessly found yourself in for the last twenty minutes. 

Don was intrigued by you, leaving the KISS vinyl behind and following you into the next shelves into a different genre of music, “I wasn’t actually interested in KISS…I just needed an excuse to talk to you.” 

Looking over your shoulder, there the man was, stiffly holding himself up against the racks with a sheepish smile on his face. He was far off from a metal head. He actually looked quite preppy, sporting khaki slacks with sneakers that definitely didn’t match his outfit, nor were dinged up from wearing them for so long, and an oversized sweatshirt with the bright geometric shapes stamped across the material. 

You laughed, “Well, it’s nice to meet you…stranger?” holding out your hand for him to shake and so he did, keeping your hands together for a few more seconds before he finally let his hand fall back to his side. 

“Don, you can call me Don.” He finally told you his name, urging you to do the same. Him making a corny joke about how it was such a coincidence that a pretty girl like you would have a pretty name to fit. 

Such a typical flirt. 

“So are you from Hawkins?” He asked you, eyeing the green and orange lanyard hanging around your neck where your keys and small collections of charms dangled. 

You followed his eyes down your chest and nodded, drawing up the jumbled mess and rattling it. “Yeah, I’m going to be a senior next school year. Are you from here too? I’ve never seen you around school before.” 

Maybe it was a fucked up thing to do, but you practically knew every person at Hawkins High because you and Eddie would make fun of all the stuck up and preppy students who stuck their noses up at you two. Surely Don looked to be a part of that crowd, yet you never saw his face in the halls or in the yearbook. 

He shook his head, pointing out the window of the store where his car was parked with some of his friends lingering around chatting, “Me and my friends drove up from Roane. Wanted to check out the store since I saw the grand opening ad in the paper last week.” 

“Oh, cool! Well, it was umm, nice to meet you, but I’ve actually got to head out so—“

You gestured your thumbs behind you where the exit door was, not really up for anymore conversation and actually needing to go run errands for the rest of the day, “Maybe you’d like to go out sometime?” 

Gulping you stopped mid-sentence getting cut off by his sudden proposition and hesitated for a bit, “I actually just got out…of a really long-term relationship so maybe not—I don’t think right now is a good time.” 

He looked disappointed, but still confident, “We don’t have to go out go out…we could just like, see each other casually? If you’re up for that.”

A hookup basically. 

You groaned, pursing your lips and shaking your head no, “Nope, not interested…goodbye.” 

Turning on your heel, you were striding out of there as hurriedly as possible, having a sense that he was still trailing behind you by the sounds of the footsteps, “Ok, I’m sorry! That came out weird…I swear I’m not a tool!” 

You rolled your eyes, not answering him as you pushed the door open and walked to your car, parked a few stalls away from where he pointed at his. Fingers instantly clicking the unlock button on your key fob, almost nearing your vehicle when you felt a hand reach out and seize your shoulder, ordering you to turn around and push Don with full force, nearly knocking him over. 

“Look, I don’t know who you think you are, but don’t put your fucking hands on me!” You shouted furiously, with your finger pointed at him sharply. 

He held his hands up in defense, looking around to see if anyone had noticed the commotion, and thankfully bystanders were too immersed up in their own lives and conversations to notice the slight disturbance. 

“I’m sorry! Sorry! I just—I didn’t mean to insinuate that we could hook up. God, that was stupid of me to say in there,” He shut his eyes rigidly, opening them back up to your still livid face, “Really, I’m really sorry…I’m an asshole and I should’ve just passed you my number then this could have been avoided.” 

You furrowed your brows, shaking your own head, following his hands that went into his pocket and pulled out a yellow post-it note with blue ink scribbled down on it. He fiddled with it between his fingers before holding it out to you. 

Sighing, you took it, unfolding the paper and reading the ten digits that were written, “It’s my number…if you’d ever like to give me a call, and maybe I could make it up to you or something—again, I’m sorry…for saying dumb shit in there and grabbing you.” 

You looked up at him for a second, raising one of your brows highly as you examined his remorseful expression, before crumpling the paper in your palm, “Yeah…whatever, goodbye, Don.” 

He slumped his shoulders, watching you get into your car and drive off without batting another glance at him. Leaving him behind in the parking lot to thinking about how he just possibly screwed up on the girl who caught his eye. 

Eddie would never do such a thing like that to you even if he was interested. 

If you had told him no, it meant for him to back off and let you be. He was always great at respecting your boundaries that you created and he knew it wasn’t anything personal, it just was something that you established because you wanted to get to know him first. 

So Eddie didn’t go into guitar lessons with you with any gleam of hope that he would be yours and you would be his. When he offered to help you get better at songwriting and playing the guitar, he did it because he knew you were something special. 

It was just that simple. 

He never pushed the idea of a relationship towards you, nor did he ever make a move on you until you both were on the same page that a relationship was something that you wanted. And to be quite honest, the connection that you and Eddie shared was deep-rooted—you had spent time with him, each talking about your lives and your friends before even plunging into the relationship thing headfirst. 

You liked it that way because it gave you a reason to really appreciate Eddie for not only a man that you were beginning to fall in love with, but just on that human level where vulnerability and empathy was laid out for the both of you to notice. 

There was never a guy like that out there for you anymore, so for some reason you settled for Don. You called Don on that same day, later in the night, accepting that there was no man out there willing to show you his true colors like Eddie did. And definitely no man stronger enough than Eddie to hold the weight of your deepest fears and insecurities. 

‘Cause when I’m with him, I am thinking of you

You tried to not look so uptight in the candlelit restaurant where classical music played softly in the background while waiters in suits walked around with large silver platters in their hands—but this wasn’t something you usually did on a Friday night. 

“Do you like the food?” 

Your fork twirling the pasta around the tongs, while you seemed rather distant worried Don. But only momentarily as you snapped out of the uncomfortable stare of your dish and looked up at him with a small grin, bending your head convincedly, “Y-yeah, sorry, just didn’t expect you to take me here.” 

He frowned, setting his fork down and resting a hand against your wrist that laid flat against the white tablecloth, “Hey, you deserve the best. If I have to take you to a fancy restaurant every weekend to show you how much you’re worth it, then I will.” 

You did your best to smile, nodding your head and mouthing a thank you before you two proceeded to eat the pricey food that didn’t nearly fill up like the burgers and fries at Benny’s did. 

Eddie would have known not to bring you to a place like this for a date. He knew how much you hated all things formal.

For Valentines one year he tried to take you to Enzo’s after hearing how much all the girls loved getting taken out for a date there to spend the 14th of February. He caught on right away when you kept fidgeting in your seat, apologizing for brushing the fork and knife too roughly against the porcelain dishes making a high-pitched scratching noise that echoed throughout the restaurant, and how you, like the night you and Don went to that upscale restaurant, barely spoke a word to him. 

“Are you sure you like your food?” Eddie confided, leaning closer towards you as you exhaled, giving him a sorrowful look and shaking your head. 

Eddie’s expression fell, dropping his hands under the table to hold your hands where you had been fiddling with the stupid lace of the table runner. His thumbs smoothing across your knuckles, “You can have mine if you want, baby…or you can order something new. Whatever you want, sweets. Not gonna force you to eat something you don’t like.” 

It was an encouraging and comforting smile he sent your way, never making you feel bad for not liking what you had ordered or worrying about what you two would be charged at the end of the night. He just wanted you to have a good time. 

“It’s not the food, Eds.” You told him, squeezing his hands as you relaxed your eyes and skimmed around, assuming he was following, “I feel weird…like I don’t belong—don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful in here, but I just, I feel like I’m fucking up this whole night—“ 

He shushed you lightly, shaking his head with a relatively affectionate expression laid out right in front of you, “Let’s get the rest to go then, we can even get a slice of cake or something, then we can eat the rest at Lover’s Lake.” 

You laughed gently, a relaxed sigh leaving you, noticing his hands squeeze yours now, “I wish you would’ve told me sooner…don’t want to make you stay when you feel uncomfortable.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” You apologized, slanting forward the rest of the way to peck his lips kindly, “I just knew that this probably took a lot for you to plan out and everything and I just didn’t want to throw all that out because I’m in a mood.” 

He pecked you again, an “uh uh,” crooned out on your lips before he drew away and smiled, “You’re not in a mood, baby. And don’t you dare feel bad—as long as we’re both together having a good time, I don’t care where we are, alright?” 

“Alright.” You assured him, smiling as he let go of your hands and called the waiter to your table, asking for the check, take out boxes, and a slice of their famous berry cake with mascarpone and extra whipped cream on the side. 

You shouldn’t have been thinking of your ex-boyfriend as you sat across from your current one, but in hindsight you’d had to accept the fact that Eddie would never leave your mind. He was always the top tier, exemplary, example of the expectations you were looking for in a relationship. His ability to read you like the back of his hand and express a profound semblance of understanding that could never be replicated. 

You were always thinking of Eddie when you were with Don. 

What you would do if you were the one who was spending the night?

Lover’s Lake wasn’t as nearly a popular hook up spot as Skull Rock was but there was no doubt that there were going to be couples having more than enough fun in the back of their cars on this valentines day night. But nevertheless, Eddie drove round and round and round until he found an empty spot, parking his van and helping you out of the passenger seat.

The two of you finished the rest of your dinner in the back of his van, giggling as the ducks in the lake quacked noisily, demanding more of Eddie’s garlic bread that he had been tearing and tossing into the water. Feeding them despite the sign that was posted that highly discouraged the act. 

“But what if their duck family doesn’t have any food to eat!” Eddie questioned, still throwing what was left of the baked dough into the pond until he had no more left to give. 

You giggled, at how ludicrous yet understandable Eddie’s argument was, his genuine care of nature and their creatures you found something so attractive. 

“Should we stay here or do you want to head over to mine and you could spend the night?” 

Eddie had never spent the night at your house. It wasn’t because your parents were strict or anything; it was just the fact that you both preferred the privacy of Eddie’s trailer knowing that Wayne wasn’t home to tell you two that it was too late to be up cooking a whole meal or bugging you both about being careful…but Eddie and you had both gotten that talk already. 

He scooted closer to you, covering you up in his arms while he pushed kisses in random sequences across your shoulder and arms. “I’ve never spent the night at yours before.” 

“Yeah,” You nodded knowingly, snaking your hands up to push his curly hair back behind his ear, giving you ample space to kiss his cheeks, “I figured you’d want to come over ‘cause my parents aren’t home, but we can go to yours too, but like, we don’t even have to do anything…sexual y’know, that’s not the reason why I want us to go to mine because—“ 

He scrunched his face, brushing nose against yours. An abrupt laugh coming from him, making you feel relieved that he wasn’t weirded out by your ramble, “Baby, you know I don’t expect you to spend the night or ask me to spend the night just for sex, right? I want to be with you because I enjoy being around you…I feel like I’ve told you this before.” 

Eddie squeezed his arms tighter around you, pushing his face in the crook of your neck, causing you to snicker, “Mmmm Eddie! You’re gonna squish me!” 

“Squish you with love and kisses,” He added, slacking his arms giving you enough room to pull him away from where he was hiding and press your forehead together. “What a way to die, huh? Make sure you put that on my death certificate.” 

He closed his eyes, basking in the feeling of you so close to him, “Shut up, you’re not dying anytime soon, dummy—If anything I demand that I go first!”

You laughed harder, finally connecting your lips in a kiss. His hands covering your back, pulling you into him closer, wanting nothing more than to stay in this moment forever like this, even if it meant the stupid metal part from his trunk poking into his side. 

But he knew eventually he’d have to pull away, longing to breathe you, memorize how the moon shone against your skin and take a mental picture to look back on every night before he went to bed with or without you laying next to him. Though he definitely preferred when you spent the night as opposed to going home and waiting until the next morning to feel you again. 

He loved passing the late hours doing anything with you.

Watching reruns of sitcoms that were definitely more of a sleep aid than a laugh fest. Looking through your childhood photo albums and making fun of the missing teeth little you. Strumming the guitar while you read him lyrics. Hell, he wasn’t going to lie…sex with you was amazing, the best he ever had and the only one he wanted for the rest of his life. But his all-time favorite was just the purity of you laying your head on his chest while he watched you sleep.  

The two of you finally began the drive back to your house, the soft engine roaring from the outside of the car. You watched pedestrians cross the streets every time you came to a red light, yearning to know if what they were going through in their lives. If somehow by chance, anyone of these innocent passersby felt the same way you were feeling and lived their lives the way you were. 

Quietness wasn’t necessarily a bad thing on this drive home, and you were pleased that it was. It gave you time to reflect, think about something other than what was happening in your life, especially when you could never seem to do that. 

And so when your house came into view, you were relived, craving nothing more than to get into bed and dream the night away, “Here we are.” 

He announced with a merry tone, parking outside your home where the porch light was flickering yellow with a few moths swarming around its candescent, hoping to ward off any predators that maybe tracking them. 

You unbuckled your belt, nodding your head towards the driver’s side with a look of sincerity, “Yeah…thanks for tonight, again.” 

“Of course. I can’t wait to see you again.” He said, resting his forearms on the steering wheel, leaning forward with flushed cheeks when he turned your way. 

“M-me too,” you agreed less assuringly, hand reaching over for the door handle so you could exit, but the hand coming down to squeeze your knee told you otherwise. 

“Mind if I came in?” 

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, swallowing and finally finding it in yourself to shift back towards him. When you opened them, he was already staring at you, an intense and subdued gaze coating his eyes. 

You shook your head, peering back at the living room window where light waded through the curtains and blinds, “My parents are home…so probably not.” 

“Oh,” He said saddened, nodding his head understandingly, “Well, next time maybe?” 

You only shrugged, bottom lip cover the top, as you weren’t sure if you ever wanted him to spend the night with you, “G’night, Don.” 

Giving him no time to even ask or try to kiss you, you opened the door, flinging it shut and rushing to find the keys in your bag to unlock the door. Not even glancing back at him to wave him goodnight, just walking through into the four walls and slamming the heavy wooden door shut. 

Spending that night, and every other night alone, wondering what could have been. 

Oh, I wish that I was looking into your eyes.

Maybe it was your way of trying to not let the uneasiness and shame bleed into your soul while you were up on that stage, focusing on two things; singing and strumming the guitar.

But your eyes had avoided two spots in the crowd…the judges’ table and where Don was sitting. 

You just couldn’t help yourself, nor avoid it, while your eyes sailed over to different people. It was obvious the Don was realizing what you were singing about, his face hidden in his hands while one of his buds took a seat beside him, lying a hand on his shoulder, buzzing something in his ear that you were too busy to make out. 

The judges’ table actually was less daunting than you had expected. When you stole a glance at them during the pre-chorus, they had smiles on their faces, even one of them tapping their foot to the beat of the song. 

At least you felt like something was going right. 

And so now with a quarter of the student body sitting the crowd, you had many people to let your eyes drift over for what was left of the song, knowing that all of them were complete strangers you’d never see again after you graduated, so they didn’t really make you any more nervous that you already were. 

But blindsided you were when you saw that familiar face in the left corner of the crowd, wholly staring at you. Actually, there in front of your eyes, hearing the song that you had written about him. 

He was all face. His hair pulled back into a bun with a hat onto of his head. He wasn’t wearing anything from his wardrobe it looked like—and if you weren’t looking hard enough, you probably would never be able to tell it was him. 

But you’d never mistake Eddie and those captivating eyes that were burnt images that you saw every time you closed yours. 

Yet now it wasn’t imaginary.  

Eddie swallowed, quietly clearing his dry throat when he knew he had been found by you. The way that your eyes remained on him a little too long and stared too passionately. How he could literally see your feet, pressing into the support legs of the stool, trying to keep your cool. 

He was supposed to be subtle, keeping his hat low to conceal his face, but he couldn’t. Not when you were here singing to him and he knew it. You wanted to break the eye contact, to dart your eyes to the other side of the crowd where one of the students were nearly falling asleep, hoping maybe it would make you forget that Eddie was here.

Deep down, you were terrified that Eddie would’ve gotten up and left the second he got spotted, and you prayed on everything that he didn’t. All that you ever wished was to look into his eyes once again, and so you kept them there.

Not only singing about him, but singing to him. 

He didn’t leave, and he never broke eyes with you, only you doing so every so often to look at the frets you were changing over before quickly finding him again. 

Signing to him everything that you remembered about him that you could never bear to forget. 

You’re like an Indian summer in the middle of winter...Like a hard candy with a surprise center.

When you had first met Eddie, you knew that he was a bit of a guarded individual, for good and personal reasons that you respected, of course. He always claimed that life was better, having no friends at all if it meant that no one he let into his life was making him feel like shit, and you understood that. 

Eddie didn’t have friends…he had family, or at least one that he claimed as his own. 

Hellfire, the little group that caused a lot of talks in the halls were essentially Eddie’s close circle of people. All the upperclassmen in his club were a part of his band, Corroded Coffin, one that you saw being advertised on flyers taped on road signs and restaurant windows. He also took the freshman in his club, as well as their friends under his wing, offering them a seat at his lunch table when it seemed like no one else would. 

Eddie just had this extraordinarily welcoming quality to him, that only a few would know if they dared to step into his life. So many people perceived the wrong things about Eddie based on what he enjoyed and what he dressed like. These attitudes spoiling everyone’s opportunity to have an actual conversation with him to learn how pleasant and imaginative he actually was. 

That the strange boy covered in patchwork tattoos, leather jackets, and ripped denim wasn’t all mean and scary like everyone had thought. Beneath that, he was like a teddy bear with actual capabilities of making you feel like being different wasn’t such a bad thing, because it wasn’t. 

“Why’re you shaking?” Eddie inquired, contemplating your bouncing knee that braced on the chair in the drama room. 

You stopped your leg’s movement, peering over at him where he sat on his throne, organizing the papers in his binder before his attention was captured on you, “Nothing…just a habit.” You waved off with what you attempted to be a convincing smile. 

“Hey, c’mon.” He spoke gingerly, setting his binder down on the table in front of him, and leaning over to wrap his ringed fingers around the leg of your chair, dragging you closer to him, “What’s going on in that head of yours, babe?” 

“I don’t know,” you replied, picking at the underside of your nails and flicking the debris off, only to feel Eddie reach for your arm and guiding you up and into his lap. 

Your legs slung over his thighs, getting comfortable with your side dipping into the left side of his body. You could feel his breathing now fanning over your face when he nudged your chin to meet his, “You ought to know, sweets…just lay it on me, don’t be shy.” 

Flinging your hands back into your lap defeatedly you groaned, “I just hope they like me, I mean they mean a lot to you, and just by the way you talk to me about them, I know that they really look up to you and everything like that and so I just hope I make a good impression.” 

His alleviating palm traveling up and down your arm, along with his chuckle let you know that you more than ok, and you were just too much in your head about it, “Baby, they’re gonna love you…and if they don’t they can suck it.” 

That’s all that you needed to know and hear that made you feel like everything was going to be ok. He always had that weirdly insane intuitive way about him—how even in your most uncertain moments, he was able to make you feel certain. He was always sincere and comforting, that homey feeling that could insulate your worrying your little heart and thoughts, attacking off the chill. 

You poked his side, muttering into his neck where you found yourself slotted comfortably once again, “Where are they? Didn’t you said it starts at three?” 

As if his friends had impeccable timing, before Eddie could glance down at his wristwatch, the door to the drama room bursted open with a group of people that you knew were Eddie’s friends. They were wearing thick jackets and boots to fight the winter cold and teeny flecks of white dredged on their shoulders and hair. 

Pulling yourself away from where your face was buried, you and Eddie both sat up, your arms swathed around his neck and his arms caging your body still close to him. 

“It’s snowing!” Dustin Henderson the curly-headed boy quipped, approaching you and Eddie with a palm full of snow in his hands. 

You screeched, forgetting that this was your first time meeting them all, and absolutely fascinated by the ice crystals, moving out to touch it, “Oh my gosh!” 

Another boy stepped forward, Lucas Sinclair, who was bundled up from head to toe, “Max and El are outside. That’s why we were late, they dragged up to help them make snowmen and angels.” 

“There’s gotta be like twelve inches of snow out there! No one can drive or bike, so we all walked here.” Will Byers animatedly spoke, bringing his hands up and down to estimate the amount that had accumulated.  

Another excited squeal left you, shaking Eddie’s upper half with eagerness. “We’ve got to go and see the snow Eds!” 

He let out a bogus fuss, “We see snow all the time.” 

Eddie was undoubtedly right, it snowed like hell during the winter, but most times all the white fluff either melted away before anyone could jump around and freeze their asses off having fun in it or it just became pure ice that was too hard to sculpt. 

“But this snow snow! Like actual snow, c’mon, pleaseeee.” Your doe eyed pleading expression along with your hands clasped together with your bottom lip jutted out was just for theatrics. You both knew that Eddie wasn’t going to turn this down. 

“Yeah Eddie,” Mike Wheeler snorted, making kissy faces towards the both of you, altering your attention to him where you giggled and Eddie flipped him off, patting your thigh, “Shut up Wheeler…everyone meet my girl.” 

You stood up, smoothing your hands down the front of your pants, before sticking your hand out to meet theirs. “Nice to meet you all by the way…sorry for the PDA you walked into.” 

Dustin dropped the snow at his feet, realizing for your hand first, the frosty cool skin brushing yours making you flinch a bit before laughing, “Eddie tells us great things about you…we almost thought you weren’t real until he showed us a photo of you two!” 

As you continued meeting them, along with hearing why the upperclassmen weren’t present because they didn’t want to trudge through the snow on a Saturday—Eddie had swept the snow that the little shit Dustin dropped, not wanting to hear it from the drama teacher who graciously gave him the keys to the classroom for weekend campaigns even if it was prohibited. 

Now he had somehow found himself sifting through the trunk of clothes used in past plays, searching for the thickets jackets to cover you up with, realizing that the sweater you had on now wouldn’t keep you from freezing to death. 

He found one, a fuzzy army green zip up, many many sizes too big for you, but it would work, “Put this on, please.” 

You paused your conversation with Will, peeking back over your shoulder to where Eddie was holding the jacket out for you. Your limbs extending themselves as he fitted the garment over your body and reached forward to zip it up for you. 

“If any of you catch hypothermia, I’m not responsible.” He joked, grasping your hand as you all made your way out of the classroom and out the double glass doors of Hawkins High where you could see two figures in the distance, throwing snow up in the air and jumping. 

The brisk air roused over your face, much crisper than hours ago when you and Eddie walked through the same parking lot, thought then, only a few inches of snow were already beginning to melt on the sidewalk. Now there were piles and piles of it. Eddie’s van sprinkled with the white flecks, probably going to be an inconvenience later on, but right now Eddie wasn’t focused on that. 

“Eddie look!” The ginger yelled out as you all got closer, her finger pointing to the right where a snowman stood unbalanced, but still a snowman nevertheless. 

Eddie snickered, nodding his head and squeezing your hand. “Red! Brunette! This is my girlfriend.” 

With your freehand you shook theirs, beaming at their rosy flushed snouts and cheeks, plus their deep breaths that were fogging in the air. 

“Nice to meet you!” You shook hands enthusiastically. 

The dark-haired girl who Eddie had described to you as timid but clever smiled broadly, then looking up at your boyfriend, “She’s beautiful. How did you get her?” 

You stifled your laugh, swaying your head, as Eddie, El, and Max bantered like brother and sisters for a bit, no malice in their words but only pure laughter as the three poked fun at each other. 

“Here,” Eddie stated, sticking his hand into his pocket where he had crammed two beanies he found in the classroom. He held it out for the girls, asking them to put them on, “You’ll freeze your brains if you don’t cover up.” 

You didn’t have much time to stare at admiration for his thoughtfulness, as he had bent down to pick up a wad of snow, chucking it delicately into your abdomen, making you whoop. 

A snowball fight ensued. You, him, and his friends, racing around the parking lot like lunatics, trying not to get hit by the snowy spheres hurling your way. The campaign was now long forgotten by everyone, just basking in the Indiana sleet, and glee that sweltered through the frosty air. 

Eddie stuck by your side, trucing his promise that he wouldn’t throw anymore snowballs at you, just wanting to stay close and near. To feel your breathing and to have your voice hit his ears in proximity like it was the sacred sounds of his favorite song. You were his favorite song, his favorite voice, his favorite type of laughter—his favorite everything. Even if meant being yanked through the cold or the midsummer heat, he’d happily follow wherever you strayed. 

How do I get better once I’ve had the best?

Eventually, you all were convinced, by Eddie of course, to head over to Mike’s house to spend the rest of the afternoon drinking hot cocoa and warming up. The campaign would have to wait until tomorrow or at least until the snow stopped, and he’d come by the put back to borrowed garments and retrieve his van. 

“Mike, are sure your parents won’t mind?” You proposed again for the millionth time during the walk over to his home. 

You had just met the kid, and you didn’t want to seem like you were invading his space just because your were the girlfriend of his friend, but nevertheless he responded, politely, “I’m sure dude…Nancy’s friends are over too, maybe you know them.” 

Steve. Robin. And her boyfriend Jonathan. 

You knew about them because Eddie was also friends with them, plus you had shared a few classes with Nancy and Robin but had yet to have an actual conversation with them. The other two, Steve and Jonathan, you hadn’t met yet, only hearing stories from Eddie about them from time to time. 

When the young boy unlocked the door, hailing out to his parents that his friends were staying over for a while, he led you to his basement, everyone already knowing that’s where they were going. And the noises of the rickety wooden stairs leading you down, notified the older teens who were sitting on the couch watching an old VHS. 

“Oh, geez, come on here, take this blanket.” His older sister, the one that you knew got up immediately, flinging the blanket off of herself and enveloping it over your body that was attached to Eddie’s side. 

“Guys, this is my girlfriend—“ 

The boy sitting beside Robin with gelled hair spoke, “The one you won’t shut up about?” 

“Who else you dingus!” Robin and who you assumed was Jonathan smacked his arm, a repentant look on their face when they turned to you, “Sorry about him, he was dropped many times as a baby.” 

She was more than delighted to greet you, rising and sweeping past Eddie to give you a hug, one that you weren’t expecting, but gratefully returned. 

“Come sit. Jonathan and I will get some more blankets upstairs.” Nancy suggested, caressing your shoulder as she pulled her boyfriend off the couch and jogged back up the stairs. 

The kids had settled on the floor, instantly ejecting the VHS tape despite Steve’s protests and plugging in their gaming console where they all fought for a turn. Eventually, Steve had properly introduced himself to you, apologizing for his joke at the beginning, which you never really took with animosity, just assuring him that it was all jokes and fun. 

When Nancy and Jonathan returned with a handful of blankets and warm cups of cocoa in their hands, you were already getting to know more about Eddie’s friends. Robin reminding her friend about the class that you three all shared together back in sophomore year before any of you knew who you were. Jonathan and Steve, pulling Eddie into their own conversation, something about his next performance at the Hideout and if he would be able to get them free drinks throughout the night. 

Soon enough, it was just you and the girls, plus the kids who were still busy with the game left in the basement. Eddie and the two other guys headed out with shovels and mittens in hand, hoping to get Eddie’s van out of the school parking lot before any staff would get suspicious of the lonely vehicle parked there or worse, towed. 

You beamed when Nancy, refreshed your cup with the rich liquid, toasting up your hands when Eddie wasn’t here to warm them up himself, “Eddie really loves you, you know…he literally doesn’t shut up about you.” she smirked cheekily, observing the way your eyes twinkled at the mention of his name. 

“I’m just as head over heels in love with him as he is with me…he’s the best.” 

The two girls met eyes with each other, smiling giddily at hearing that admission. They knew that Eddie was truly content with you, like a sudden wave just washed up over him once the two of you started dating. He became softer, not in a whipped way, which he totally was for you anyway, but he was just different. A more peaceful and together version of himself. 

He talked highly of you before he introduced you to them. Telling them all about this mystery girl, who was in fact real, and enjoyed the time you had spent together. Talking about the many songs you had written, so enthralled by your ability to paint a picture with just a few words and how the guitar was just an accessory to what you were singing.

They were happy for their friend, even more so happy for you for meeting someone you knew was the best person who you deserved. 

But that was before you had lost the best you’d ever know. 

You said, there’s tons of fish in the water, so the waters I will test.

Robin’s hand reached for your shoulder, shaking it mildly. “Are you ok?” she asked with troubled eyes at your quietness.

You snapped out of the memory, blinking slowly as you found yourself standing in front of a rack of clothes in The Gap store, while Nancy and Robin conversated among themselves before noting your absent state. Now the both of them standing on either of your sides, watching you slowly come back with a heavy sigh brewing in your chest. 

“Y-yeah…sorry, just thinking.” You waved off, shaking your head, and raking back over the hangers, not at all interested in the clothes that were displayed there. 

Nancy looked over at Robin, her eyes quietly indicating worry while you were too busy trying to act like you were fine. Her delicate hand coming to stop your movement, pulling your eyes to hers again. “You know you can talk to us right? Even though we’re Eddie’s friends, we’re also your friends…we care about you.” 

It had been months since you and Eddie had officially broken up. You had already begun seeing Don, and you had fully expected that Eddie’s friends would stop speaking to you even casually if they had found out. After all, they were all Eddie’s friends before they were yours. Despite how close you got to them throughout you and Eddie’s relationship, their loyalty laid first with Eddie—you understood and respected that. 

However, they had other plans, continuing to call and check up on you after hearing the news from Eddie himself. Robin and Nancy were specifically supportive, always taking you up on the opportunity to go out to get your mind off of things and to keep up with what was going on in your life now that you didn’t spend every weekend in the Wheeler basement just hanging around. 

It was harder on the younger kids. Max and Dustin liked to joke and say, “We’re children of divorce,” knowing that their favorite couple had split suddenly in the middle of the year. They did their best to hang out with you too, tagging along with Robin and Nance when they’d say they were heading over to your place or over to Benny’s meeting you for lunch. 

Clearing your throat, you ground your lips together and peeped at Nance and Robin, “H-how is he? Eddie, I mean.. Has he been taking care of himself?” 

They each took a deep breath, side eyeing one another, then nodding at you. This was the first time in a long time that you had asked about Eddie. He was a sensitive topic that no one brought up if you were in listening distance, knowing it could trigger you. You didn’t want to seem bitter, to act as if you didn’t care about Eddie anymore, because quite honestly that wasn’t possible for you to ever feel. 

You loved Eddie with your whole existence, but you just couldn’t face the fact that you were living life without knowing it wasn’t beside him anymore. And you definitely didn’t want to hear if he had another woman already taking your place…even if that made you a hypocrite. 

“He’s umm, he’s good actually…on track to graduate, thank god.” Nancy told you freely, giving you a thumbs up that you accepted with a nod. 

Eddie wasn’t dumb, far from it. He just didn’t have a lot of discipline when it came to school. You had helped him through that, encouraging him to find more time to study and take notes so that he could take tests and pass with flying colors.

It worked.

Somehow he learned to enjoy sitting with you in the library, a comforting silence between you two as you read your textbooks and he would look over notes from class. You’d do anything if it meant helping Eddie get out of this hellhole of a school where he was trapped in for far too long. 

Robin spoke next, bouncing on the heels of her foot up and down, while she bit her lip, “He heard that you’re going out with Don now. He’s happy for you.” 

You knew Eddie was bound to find out sooner or late. It wasn’t hard to spot the preppy car and pretty boy to match it, coming into Hawkins more and more the longer you two started seeing each other. 

“Oh…” your heart shook, forehead wrinkled up as you learned about Eddie’s new knowledge about your life and how he still wished you well. 

Nance tilted her head to the side, seeking to detect what you were feeling—a mix between confusion and discontent, she supposed. 

“But—but you know, he also said that he umm, that he wants you to search the whole pond.” She inadequately tried to explain, nudging Robin for help. 

You looked up at them plainly perplexed at what the older girl was trying to explain. Thankfully, Robin stepped forward, “Yeah the pond! You know…there’s so many guys out there, and he wants you to really search it and find someone you deserve!” 

Deep down, you didn’t even want to dip your toes in that stupid pond they and Eddie were talking about.

To you it wasn’t about searching because it was useless to do so. There couldn’t possibly be anyone out there that could have been more perfect for you than Eddie. You didn’t care about money, status, or looks…any of that materialistic and superficial bullshit that everyone wanted for notoriety. 

You wanted Eddie, but you settled…you barely even searched that pond before testing out the second best you found. 

He kissed my lips, I taste your mouth

Nancy and Robin tugged you out of The Gap store, the three of you visiting a few more shops that were on the second floor before taking the escalator back down to visiting the food court. With summer approaching, the shopping center was packed with students getting a head start on basking in on the freedom and fun that came with the semester coming to a close. So it wasn’t surprising to find Max and El sitting at a table all by themselves, talking amongst one another. 

“Heeey chicas!” Robin singsonged, knocking her fist on the metal table, grabbing the young girl’s attention causing them to smile and stand up. 

Immediately they went to hug you three, urging you to take the empty seats beside them, “We missed you!” They both directed it to you specifically, resting their chins on their fists. 

You nodded, rolling your eyes as you caught up with them, “School and life are just a lot right now—I’m telling you, don’t take freshman year for granted because upperclass will kick your ass.” 

They laughed, while the older two girls agreed with you, noting how much grades and extracurricular meant to your record, which would ultimately decide if you were going to get into college or not 

“Where’s Lucas and Mike?” Nancy sought, looking around and not seeing them anywhere in sight. 

El giggled, shrugging her shoulder, while Max smirked, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked up the figure behind you, ignoring the question. 

“A strawberry snow-cone for the prettiest girl in Hawkins?” 

Hands were now covering your eyes, feeling the cold rings resting on the bridge of your nose and the high points of your cheeks. The laughter surrounded you and the voice who spoke made it obvious who it was, “Eddie, you dork!”

“Awww you caught me sweets!” He bubbled, withdrawing his hands from your eyes and you immediately tilted your head back, seeing an upside-down version of him. 

He was wearing the same t-shirt that you saw him in before you left his trailer that morning. And now he traded his basketball shorts for the classic black denim that he said matched everything in his closet. 

The smell of yesterday’s blunt still lingering on him from where you cuddled into his side, and kept him company while he smoked and you freely wrote in your journal, outside on the porch chair. 

You felt his hand guide your neck back up slowly. The chair beside you being dragged out where he sat and placed down the sweet treat in front of you, “I thought you had a campaign today?” 

You stuck the spoon into the red painted snow, taking a bite as you watched him watch you eat, “Yeah, but these dweebs wouldn’t stop bugging me about the mall.” 

He ruffled the hair on Max and El’s heads, causing them to scowl, hitting his hand away jokingly as they fixed it back into place. 

“Well, shit Mr. Charming, you got her a snow-cone but not us?” Robin tsked playfully, rolling her eyes along with the other girls for dramatics. 

You giggled at their antics, watching Eddie cackled and reach into his pocket, tossing them a $10, producing a round of ovations to erupt from the four girls who gave up on their act. 

Robin instantly palmed it, mouthing a thank you to Eddie who pretended to roll his eyes, shooing them away to give you two privacy.  

“C’mere.” He grinned, repeating your favorite simple action of him pulling your chair closer to his, knees just about hitting each other now and shoulders pressed together. 

You blushed, hiding your cheek in his shoulder, pushing the bowl and spoon towards him to take a bite, which he happily did. 

“When did you find me here?” You proposed, eyelashes flutter up at him, watching him chew the icy snow and swallow before responding to you. 

He intertwined your hands together and then spoke, “I was gonna get a corn dog, but then I noticed the girls talk to some people and I saw you and I wanted to surprise ya!” 

You melted, aweing up at his sweet gesture, kissing the skin below his jaw, “Well, consider me surprised.” You told him, wringing his hands appreciatively. 

“Can I get a proper kiss?” He radiated, eyes clouded over with longing, knowing it had been hours since he last got to kiss you. 

Your eyes drifted up, bluffing to think for a few moments, a silly game you liked to play with him to keep him on his toes, though he always knew it was just a facade too, “I suppose you do deserve a kiss.” 

Eddie crinkled his nose, a content, “yes!” spewing from him as if you’d ever decline him a smooch.

“Lay it on me, pretty.” He puckered his lips, making you giggled, wanting to pinch him and tell him to kiss you right, but any kiss from Eddie was good enough from you. 

Your lips planting against his slightly chapped ones that you had tried to coat in your chapstick, yet he hated the feel of the product, unless it was transferred from yours to his. You could still smell the blunt he had been smoking before you left—a hint of earthy. Yet notes of sweetness, the artificial kind from the strawberry syrup that coated the shaved ice and his mouth. But every kiss was swarming with Eddie—just him. The way you wanted every kiss to feel and taste like. 

But this kiss wasn’t Eddie. 

“Oookaay, wow, hello!” 

You pushed at the chest in front of you, breaking your lips apart embarrassingly quick and seeing Nancy and Robin holding the snow cone you had asked them to order for you while you took a breather and sat down alone at the table. 

But that was before Don had taken it upon himself to surprise you, greeting you with a too loud of a hello and laying an unexpected kiss on your mouth before you had gotten the chance to say hi. 

You stood up, pushing your chair out, “I’m sorry! Guys umm…this is Don. Don, these are my friends Robin and Nancy.” 

Stiffly you gestured between them, your two friends, passing him a half smile that didn’t look at all convincing to anyone, but Don was too caught up to think otherwise. 

“Cool…here’s your, uh, strawberry cone.” Nancy handed over your small bowl, keeping her eye on you and never towards Don. 

“Thanks.” You muttered, before you all took a seat, waiting to see who was going to speak first. 

It was Don. It was obviously going to be him. 

They tried, they really really tried to like him for the sake of you. But it was blatantly obvious how different Don was from you and how he made you feel. You were reserved when you were with him. You barely put a word into the conversation, instead you kept your eyes on your snow cone, not wanting to feel the eyes of your friends silently asking you what you saw in him.  

The comparisons they were making between Don and Eddie were coursing through their heads, and you could feel that. You knew that you weren’t the only one who would do such a thing. It might have been wrong to hold that expectation over Don’s head, but it wasn’t something that you were ready to compromise with. 

You weren’t sure if you were ever going to be able to live seeing and feeling everything that Don wasn’t when you were with him because you’d only ever want Eddie. 

He pulled me in, I was disgusted with myself

Uncomfortably, the conversation between your new boyfriend and your friends went on for a while—mostly from Don’s side. Him telling the girls about his life in Roane county, asking if any of them wanted to meet his friends in hopes of snagging themselves a boyfriend like you had…as if Nancy and Robin didn’t already have someone special in their lives. 

It was obvious that you were entirely done for the day, not having much more social battery left in you to shop in anymore stores or talk about life. You just really wanted a break from life if you were being honest with yourself. 

“You guys wouldn’t mind if I headed home early, right?” You asked them gently, pushing aside your now finished treat and looking across the table at them. 

Nancy and Robin both shook their heads, smiling tightly at you, “No, yeah, that’s fine…are you ok?” 

You genuinely smiled when Robin and Nance both placed a hand onto yours at the same time, obviously concerned, “Yeah, I just feel a little tired and I actually need to work on the song contest thing.” 

“Don, do you think you could give me a ride home?” You peered over at him and he nodded, smirking and already standing up. 

You shimmied your hands from under your friends, now placing yours onto of theirs and giving them a consoling squeeze, “Have fun you two, I’ll see you later.” 

With that, you stood up, grabbing the two shopping bags you had and looping them over your wrists. They waved goodbye to you, watching as you and Don walked side by side towards the exit of the mall, not a single reach of your hand trying to find his, but only his arm draping over your shoulders by the time you had walked through the double glass doors. 

A small crowd of people sitting on the concrete benches next to the bike rack caught your eye. And for obvious reason, because you knew it was the kids. Their bicycles were never hard to miss with the plethora of stickers that were stuck onto the metal tubes and they’re even more bright colored clothes that they sported. 

You felt like you were in a movie; the scene happening in slow motion while they followed you pass by with a guy that was not Eddie hanging over your shoulder. The man you were thinking about sat between Dustin and Will, the cigarette that was hanging from his fingertips, dropping to the floor where his foot immediately stomped it out.

Eddie went pale, despite the slight tan he had developed from being dragged outside by his friends these days. The curses and whispers coming from the young teens echoing in his ear, as he monitored your figure. Watching the way you twisted your head to try to avoid him, something he was going to do as well, to pretend he didn’t see you, possibly make up a lie and say that it wasn’t you. 

Maybe your doppelgänger. 

But he could never mistake the way your hair fell over your back, and how you took each step from heel to toe like some sort of model…a joke he like to make because it made you blush every time he brought it up. 

And most importantly, he knew your face from every angle. Having woken up beside you every morning and falling asleep next to you every night. To having you staring him deeply in the eyes right in front of him, and you throwing your head back to look at him with a dopey smile upside down. 

He knew it was you no matter what illusions his brain was trying to make up, his eyes did not deceive him. 

They sure as hell didn’t deceive the way that Don pulled you into him closer, saying something funny that made himself laugh before you, then kissing your lips. 

God, you felt sick.

It was horrible enough that this was the way that you and Eddie had to finally see each other after doing so well at dodging one another at school. But this was a whole other feeling of disgust. Revulsion at yourself for being in this situation and having the guts to walk around with a man you knew didn’t deserve you. How could you be so naïve to think that the feeling would go away? Like you’d wake up one morning and forget everything that you and Eddie had…now that truly made you sick. 

And yes, I do regret how I could let myself let you go

Subtleness was never your forte. If anything, you prided yourself on being easy to ready, especially by Eddie. So it was no surprise when you were singing on the stage that you had gradually been breaking down with each verse. Your eyes welling with salty tears that traveled across your cheeks every time you wrung them shut, looking back on memories of you and Eddie that brought you here. 

Part of Eddie wondered what would have happened if you would’ve just stayed at the trailer a little longer that afternoon. Or if he called you and asked to speak about what had happened. Or just maybe if he would’ve gone about the situation differently. To tell you, he was terrified at the fact that you were so sure of hightailing it out of Hawkins after graduation. 

That he didn’t know if he was bold enough to follow you. If he’d drag you down or hold you back from your big dreams. That maybe Hawkins was really all he had to give his life to, afraid of what else the world had to offer. If outside of this town that he was already accustomed to scrutinizing him, would be the only one he could ever get used to. 

That maybe, just maybe, if you could at least be happy without him with only your dreams in sight, that he would be able to live the rest of his life soundly, in this town forever, knowing at least you made it out and did something for yourself. 

At the end of the day, it was selfish—a selfish decision that led to so much heartache and longing for one another. Never being able to keep your sights off of one another, just hoping that either one of you would burst through the door and take all the pain away. No more mistakes or being apart. That’s all you both ever dreamed of at the end of the day. 

Now, now the lesson’s learned, I touched it, I was burned.

You could have accepted everything for what it was, all that surface level shit that went down between you and Eddie. And you had tried your very best to forget him. To clear your slate, and start from scratch when it came time for Don to enter your life, but that just wasn’t practical nor realistic.

You had spent every waking moment thinking about Eddie, comparing Don to Eddie, dreaming about Eddie, crying about Eddie, damn near dying over the fact that you didn’t have Eddie anymore. 

You tried, and it hurt. It hurt too much to ever think that Eddie was just some random boy you fell in love with one day and could forget in a snap of your fingers. Eddie was this burning everlasting light that would never be blown out, not by you, not by Don, and not by any other man. 

Oh, I think you should know…

By now, you could tell you were a mess. You could sense the tears crashing on thighs where they fell from your eyes, rolled down your cheeks, and dripped off your jaw and chin. The crowd watching was now more awake than ever, sitting forward to legitimately listen in on what you were saying and how passionately you were singing the words. Thinking that it was just because it was a really meaningful song for you, but they didn’t quite understand that the meaning was sitting in the room with you. 

When I’m with him, I am thinking of you

Finally, you looked at Don. He was impassive, hands covering his mouth as he glared at you, but only before your eyes went back to Eddie’s. 

The words dripping off your tongue, when he knew that you were really trying to talk to him in this moment. To make him understand all the things you had been feeling for him and never stopped feeling for him since the day you broke up.

You’d been a constant thought in his head throughout those grueling months, yet he was too scared to ever talk to you, let alone write you a song, but here you were, doing it. 

Cause in your eyes, I’d like to stay.

The strumming of your guitar deliberately died with your last whisper like word. Eyes never threatening to shut, even with the cloudiness of tears that obscured the sight of Eddie standing up and being the first person to clap his hands together, followed by the rest of the crowd who did the same. Don and his friends were the only ones still seated in the crowd, but you didn’t care, not anymore. 

Wiping your hands across your cheeks, you stood, lowering your head in gratefulness by the kind gesture of these stranger and most notably the person who the song was about. The judges also clapped, but tried to be unbiased, not standing up and instead, letting the same woman who greeted you speak. 

“Thank you dear…that was beautiful, really. Thank you.”

You nodded your head at the judges as everyone began to settle and sit back in their chairs, while you walked off the stage and back up the ramp where you unwrapped your guitar from across your body, placing it on your chair. Don’s hand didn’t waste anytime, snatching at your wrist, and hauling you outside of the auditorium where all shit was going to hit the fan. 

Your back was against the rugged wall, watching Don pace back and forth in front of you. His hands pulling at one another, huffing obscenities under his breath that you knew were directed towards you. He eventually ceased, keeping his distance from you on the other side of the wall, looking into your eyes. 

“I don’t understand…wha—what does Eddie have that I don’t?” 

You felt almost sorry for him, the fact that he was questioning his worth rather than just understanding that it had nothing to do with him and entirely everything to do with the person you wanted. 

“Everything.” You swallowed thickly, sniffling softly and tearing your eyes away from his serious gaze, know you shouldn’t even be looking at him after the cruel words you had sung his way. 

He tried to approach you, his arms held out, like he wanted to give you a hug or something, but you stepped aside, moving against the wall, adjacent towards the auditorium doors, “Stop it, Don…you already know what this means.” 

You and him were over.

There was no way that Don could still possibly want to be with you after you had just publicly broken his heart and confessed your undying love for your ex-boyfriend that he didn’t even know was in the crowd watching. 

“But I just—I thought you said you liked me!” He lost it, roaring it out vulgarly, forcing you flinch with every word that emerged. 

Liked. 

Not loved. 

Not the way you love still loved Eddie. 

Your arms bound around yourself, demanding the guarantee to feel like you were going to be ok, when he turned and punched the bulletin board on the wall in front of you, “I don’t get it!” 

“I—I never stopped loving Eddie, Don! I’m sorry, but I can’t help the way I feel…the things I feel for Eddie, the only person who made me feel that way—Ow! Stop it! Let me go!” 

The next performance hadn’t even started yet.

The auditorium was dead silent, faces turned towards the door where they could hear the screaming match happening between you and Don, though nobody knew that except his friends, Eddie, El, and Max. The judges weren’t even quite sure if there should be another performance after the one you had put on—no one showed as much emotion and vulnerability when it came to their original song like you did. 

Nevertheless, they sat, a little guilty eavesdropping, as the man’s shouts were more clearly discernible than your muffled replies. Not before you were screaming in pain, that is. 

On instinct, Eddie had shot out of his chair the moment he hard you say “ow!” Not caring if he was stepping on other people’s toes and feet when he stumbled his way through the cramped rows, and rushing up the slender ramp to thrust the door open. Looking right and left… to only seeing Don holding your arms against the brick wall. Based on the way his muscle bulged while he had his hands on you, let him know that Don was being more than rough with you. 

“Get your fucking hands off of her!” His feet took him directly beside the two of you, shoving at Don’s arm, forcing him to release the forceful grip he had on your wrists. 

You found yourself behind Eddie, fingers twisting the material of his flannel, wanting nothing bad to happen to him, “I see,” Don snorted numbly, clenching hos jaw, “Of course he’s fucking here to save you…did you guys plan this or something?” 

“Leave.” Eddie spoke seriously, pointing out the door when he knew that getting into a fight with this boy wasn’t something he was looking for at all. It was making sure that you were ok and not hurt.

Don just grunted, trying to look past Eddie’s figure to see you, but he didn’t allow it, not even a shred of you to be seen or touched by him ever again. Using his arms to create a barrier between you and the guy, you felt safe knowing that Eddie wasn’t going to let anything happen to you. 

The poor guy just huffed out an even heavier breath than before when his friends finally walked through the doors with him. Never looking back at you and Eddie. 

Once you two were in the clear, he turned around, bending to your level to see your face clearly, “H-hey, are you ok?” 

He was hesitant to put his hands on you.

To hold your cheeks in his hands like he did many times in the past when you were feeling too sad. Or even just giving you a hug. He didn’t know if he was allowed to do any of those things anymore, not if he didn’t know if you wanted him to. 

So when your arms instantly reached out to wrap around his body and your face buried in his chest, he knew that everything was going to be ok. His arms tucked around your body, securely holding you close, feeling your tears seep through the fabric of his shirt and press into the bare skin underneath. Your breaths warming the skin where you breathed into him. His heart thumping against your ear, the only heartbeat you were longing to feel for so long this close again. 

You two weren’t just thinking of each other anymore. 

“I missed you…s-so much.” Your voice broke finally splitting away from his chest and looking into his eyes.

He smiled, a sad yet hopeful smile, nodding his head, “I missed you too…I’m sorry for everything.” 

You closed your eyes, letting the tears run again, relishing in the feeling when he finally moved his hand away from your back to brush the drops aside with his thumbs. A peaceful smile on your face despite the contrast of your crying…fortunate that you were here with Eddie even if it meant crying pathetically like this. 

“Can—can we talk about what h-happened?” 

You hoped he would say yes, to finally work things out and maybe rekindle everything that you two still had. 

He hummed, “Yes,” with a sniffle, thumbs still working the waterworks falling until you opened your eyes.

Looking straight into him with distractions around anymore. 

His orbs were like freshly melted chocolate with pebbles from Lover’s Lake surrounding the iris. 

His cheeks flushed the same berry red as the snow day you shared together a few Decembers ago. 

His warmth that radiated off onto your body like the summer he was to your winter. 

His gentleness with you never faltering like you never had spent time apart at all. 

The pit in your stomach slowly dying from where you had thought you were to be stuck with the second best who could never amount to the perfection that Eddie was. 

And when his lips finally came down to yours, the disgust you’d been punishing yourself with leaving the moment you tasted your favorite after smoke of a blunt, combination of phoney strawberry—and Eddie. 

The lost time you had spent away thinking about one another now replaced with the reality that you no longer had to solely daydream or spend the hours reminiscing about each other and your love. It was now about making it right, standing here and not taking a damn second for granted ever again. 

You both pulled away, lips swollen and cheeks just as flushed, still staring with no words spoken, not before the auditorium doors freed with El and Max standing there with a smile, “You won!” 

Now you just needed to win someone.

A/N: all credits to katy perry for writing this beautifully heartbreaking song. I shed a few tears writing this...maybe this was a bit of a projection thing, but I was able to write this in two days without stopping. craaaazy right. anyways, please let me know what you guys think...i hope the flashbacks weren't too confusing, but if it is just inbox me and i'll be more than happy to explain!!

taglist (if you would like to be added just leave a comment!): @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world

[l-e-morgan-author]

my current wip list

Hands Made for Gentleness is about my two dear idiots Vaniah and Anneka, who get married to dodge an arranged-marriage law. Vaniah is incredibly traumatised by events in his past. Anneka discovers this as time goes by. It's a story of healing, mainly, and mental health. Boatload of trigger warnings (Vaniah is severely depressed, suicidal and all that goes with that, while Anneka is in recovery from anorexia) but I love them so much and I love the energy that's between them. At this moment I'm writing a scene in which they're arguing because Vaniah abruptly shut down a kissing scene without explanation and the conversation afterwards got mildly heated. Also they basically end up in a QPR more than a traditional romantic relationship and I love that for them. They're late twenties or so during this novel. First draft.

Patience, Changing is about Patience and her adopted sister Rhona. Patience is my autistic darling, Rhona is my current Discord pfp and anyway I love them. They have interpersonal conflicts that form the nucleus of the novel, but they work them out in the end. Teenagers, and absolutely no romantic relationships in this story which I love. Also it's set in my home city of Melbourne. First draft.

To Kindle a Flame is the first book of an embarrassingly big series. I first wrote the earliest draft for camp nanowrimo or nanowrimo itself, 2017. It started out as one book, in fact started out as a simple response to a concept outlined and failed to bring to a satisfying conclusion by a Christian book by someone in my denomination - In Search of Life by Anna Tikvah. I loved the concept (girl has questions about life, turns to the Bible and reads it, things happen), but then Verity never questioned that the Bible was true, which seemed wack to me. So I started writing a story in which my main character (Adira) found a copy of the Bible and then began to read it, but the whole time she's questioning it. It turned into about 300k of messy drafting (I've drafted it uhh three times by now and am gradually working on overhauling it, grabbing what bits I can and then finishing the draft, ideally this year) and has become a story about mental health, choices and the way people figure out beliefs. In the Gospels there's a line in which Pilate says "What is truth?" - that's basically the tagline of To Kindle a Flame. It's also dystopian. It's my beloved baby. Anyway I'm normal about this story. Also Adira is autistic. Oops. I didn't intend that. I just looked at her character one day and went Yet Another Autistic Character Ay. xD It's also set in Melbourne, but aforementioned dystopia renders Melbourne unrecognisable. I've done a bunch of worldbuilding on her. Also features the character who was the first openly queer character I ever wrote - Tom, who's bi, though he ends up married to Adira and never has a mlm relationship during the story (has prior - in the story he's side B). Somewhere between first and second drafts.

Do Roses Cast Shadows? was the most recent nanowrimo, and I got a grand total of 12k into it. I uh. Don't know what's going on really. I don't recall much, but I'd like to get back to it someday. My characters are Wren and I can't recall the male main character's name.

They Told Me To Name My Demons is a poetry collection I'm working up to publication someday. It's about Christianity, suicidality, depression, autism and identity. I plan to include 100 poems and 7 prose pieces, of which I've so far written and somewhat edited 84 poems (might have a few more, I haven't crossreferenced with my phone lately) and 4 pieces of prose. The title is from a blog post I read years ago and then wrote a poem in response to. Most of the poems have been written in the last year or two. I chase inspiration where I see it. First draft.

Sparks Under Heaven is a collection of five short stories/novellas, all connected to To Kindle a Flame (one features Adira, two her grandfather, one someone another character knew in his youth and the other focuses on an event from To Kindle a Flame but from someone else's perspective). I've had it professionally edited but the edits are sitting there still waiting to be touched, largely. Second-last round of edits before I self publish.

Through Lightning, Through Thunder was nanowrimo 2022, the happiest novel I've ever written and absolutely beloved. It features Taira (rabbit), Paddy (fox), Sheba (lynx), and various less important characters. It started out life as a Narnia fanfic, focused around my original characters with occasional mentions of the Four. It was 15k. Then I fleshed it out into a full original novel, 100k-and-counting. Oopsie. The good guys are trying to stop an evil dragon being resurrected (based on the Witch scene in Prince Caspian). In the end everyone lives happily ever after. Yay. Second draft.

[Inklings story] is about Hadassah, autistic darling of my heart who is thrown through a portal and discovers a found family on the other side, essentially. Downtrodden autistic but becomes happy and confident. First draft.

The Time Travelling Midwife is about Felicity, ALSO autistic (surprise!). I haven't got very far with this one either, it exists mostly in vibes in my mind. It's best summarised as the story with the time travelling midwife, who travels in time, is an angel, tries to stop evil from prevailing and when it does eventually through the building of the tower of Babel (mainly facilitated by one of her colleagues), her time travelling powers are taken away and she ends up settling somewhere in the 1900s and having a happy life. First draft.

Only the first and second are in active development right now. Please ask me about any part of any thing of this post. I copied and pasted directly from the Discord in which I rambled about them.

If I've forgotten any wips that you know about please tell me, lol. And this is only about full length novels or collections, not shorter stories.

[miercolaes]

  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️𝙶𝙴𝚃 𝚃𝙾 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝙼𝙴 𝙱𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁   ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️(i apologize in advance)

alias / name : veronica, vero

birthday : june 12

zodiac sign : gemini

height : last time i checked 159cm / 5ft2 ???

hobbies : writing, drawing, visiting haunted places, watching movies, sfx makeup because i gave up on normal makeup (can't do an eyeliner without a tiktok filter...), video games

favorite color : purple, red, black

current book : interview with the vampire (i was supposed to look into interviews as a data collecting method but oh well...)

last song : the great war by taylor swift / frunzuliță, iarbă deasă by subcarpați (romanian song if any1's interested, here's the song and the translated lyrics if you're curious)

last film / show : miller's girl / family guy

inspiration : goodreads quotes on different topics, all addams canon material, this one wednesday addams playlist, edgar allan poe's work (got a complete tales and poems and i randomly open it and read for inspo), my own past experiences (be it information from uni or stuff i've experienced), witchcraft i grew up with, horror movies

story behind url : previously woednesdayaddams, after a while i found it too long so i switched to a shorter version. miercolaes meaning wednesday but in spanish and tbh it was easier to remember since spanish is a latin / romance language (fun fact in my language wednesday translates as miercuri, but that was already taken and didn't fit with the addams lore)

fun fact about me : the reason i'm currently studying marketing is because i know i'd be godmodding irl had i chose security studies (think cia but for another nation) or probation. i've seen enough movies to know how it'll end. like i wouldn't imagine being professional if i had the ta.te brothers in front of me. they also managed to get arrested again so there's that.

tagged by your friendly neighbourhood @freakarus ily s

tagging : the legend that is @havvkinsqueen , the gore queen i adore @peachwrites / @anthrcpophagi , the sexy gorgeous addams family member @silent-stripes , the hippie mom @pierprincess along with her @nancewheelr & @wildhecrt brand , the one who accepts my morbid child @swervdcity and their dead princess @stvrsold , my morbid twin @wickedslip and if you haven't done it already, you (in a joe goldberg kind of way)

[foodandfolklore]

The Story of Valentine's Day

So what's up with Valentine's Day? Is it just a holiday made up to sell flowers, chocolate, and jewelry? Well...no. Though it is the main reason why it's still exists today. So much so that Valentine's Day is banned in some countries that frown on western customs. Other Countries adopted their own customs inspired by Valentines Day, like in Japan. Women are the ones to give men they like chocolate on February 14. Then, in March, these men are expected to gift them white chocolate in return.

I think many of us who grew up in the west are aware that Valentine's Day is named after the Catholic Saint Valentine. An older name is 'The feast of St Valentine' since before chocolate and flowers, people had a feast to celebrate. But who was this person?

The story goes that Valentine (Could of been a man or woman, we're not sure. There were a lot of Valentines) was spreading the word of the Christian God and Jesus as a Priest. They went against the Emperor's decree, and married soldiers to their loved ones. I'm not entirely clear why the Emperor had an issue with soldiers getting married, but I'm guessing the lead in the pipes were getting to them.

Valentine was found out and arrested, and was sentenced to death. While they awaited their sentencing, they helped take care of the other prisoners. The jailer's daughter, who was blind, was also there (for some reason) and they helped to look after her. They did such a good job, they cured her blindness and fell in love with her. Before being put to death, they gave her a letter simply signed "From your Valentine" thus being the official first Valentine.

The Church later named Valentine a Saint, and degreed a celebration to happen every year on February 14. Which is apparently when they were executed. However, there was also an old Roman celebration that the Church was trying to get rid of called "Lupercalia". Lupercalia was a purifying, fertility celebration to Juno that lasted from February 13 to February 15. Animal sacrifices, naked racing, and a massive feast was held. The church didn't like 2 of these 3 main events, so their new holiday just had a feast.

We get the Romance later when a 14th century poet, Geoffrey Chaucer, writes his poem "Parlement of Foules". It draws a conection between Valentines Day and the start of Bird Mating season, sparking the romantic interest. Many couples followed for years after, sending poems to one another to express affection. Later, during the 1800s, when the printing press became a thing, pre made and pre written poems/rhymes were mass produced as cards. And people bought them.

So, in summery, Valentines Day seems to of been created by the Church to erase a Pagan Celebration. Then, Society decided to associate it with love. Which is kinda Sweet. But now we're in the age of consumerism, and it's another excuse to sell us stuff.

At the end of the day; If you don't want to celebrate Valentines Day, than don't. I've personally never gotten into it, even with Partners. Some people feel like it's a downer cause they're single. Others feel like there's too much pressure to be perfect. And some just can't justify the expense.

That said, if you WANT to celebrate modern Valentines Day, all the power to you! Some people love it, with or without a partner. So if that's your jam, and you can afford to go all out, do it! It makes you happy to get chocolate and flowers, or dress up and go out to eat. For some it's like a hobby. Someone once made the comparison to me like the super bowl. You look forward to it all year, buy a bunch of junk, and then enjoy with people who are also into it. Now, I'm not into sports either, but I understand the mindset. It's like Conventions or dressing up to go see the premier of a movie. Other people may not see the point, but you enjoy it so who cares?

[serenanymph]

Hey everyone! I'm Serena - you can call me Ser - and my pronouns are she/her. This is the writeblr for @murderousewpecspredator! I'll mostly be reblogging writing resources, advice, inspiration etc. here. I'll also be posting my original fics and art, plus updates and snippets (and occasional screaming) as I work on my wips, so be on the lookout for that!

My works tend to include:

➼ high fantasy (occasionally dabbling in urban fantasy, dystopia or sci-fi) ➼ traumatized teenagers forming found families ➼ characters all flavors of queer + male-female friendships and queerplatonic relationships!! ➼ sad backstories ➼ hurt/comfort. SO much hurt/comfort. but also eventual happy endings where the characters get to live peacefully :) ➼ at least one character who is stubbornly kind in the face of a cruel world ➼ and hope!!! I love hope

Find me on: ao3 | wattpad

I'm looking for more writing mutuals so feel free to reply if you share similar writing genres/interests, and I'll give you a follow!

(works under cut)

WIPS

𝐵𝐸𝒜𝒮𝒯

In a world where monsters live in the woods - creatures with the ability to shift forms and wield magic - humans and Beasts have been fighting for centuries. One summer morning, Crys Averwell finds a crow-boy in the forest who has had his wings brutally hacked off.

Unfortunately, saving him from bleeding out is the easy part - because hiding the existence of a Beast from Crys's village, and finding a way for said Beast to get home?

That's going to be another story entirely.

𝒪𝓇,

My current wip!! High fantasy series with found families, banter™ and protags who aren't the heroes or the chosen ones but are just really, really unlucky. Also contains,

large casts

the Sarcastic Withdrawn one + the Ray of Sunshine Extroverted one

a Journey

undead creatures

cool magic with runes and potions and spells and Artifacts

Forests. and Mountains. and More Forests

discrimination, eventual rebellion, blowing stuff up

Sad Times

𝐵𝑜𝑜𝓀𝓈

➢ Crow Wings (2nd draft complete, 3rd draft to be started somewhere in July or August) ➢ Witch's Book (1st draft in progress) ➢ Untitled book 3, 4 and possible 5

series/book 1 intro, book 2 intro

taglist (lmk if you want to be +/-): @deer-in-headlights-stare, @allianaavelinjackson, @arctic-oceans, @space-writes, @reneesbooks

𝒞𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓊𝓅𝓉𝑒𝒹

It's the start of a new school year, and Sakoto Misami's brother has disappeared. Another runaway, people whisper - but Sami knows her brother isn't like that, knows that Irumi would never abandon them.

So when police fail to track him down, she decides to investigate on her own. And the things she finds begin to make her wonder - had she never known her brother after all?

Her questions are promptly answered when, that Friday night, on a deserted train platform, the lights flicker, and something inhuman comes out of the tunnel. Straight for her.

Enter the Swords.

𝒪𝓇,

The half-defined urban fantasy wip I take out to blow dust off of occasionally, because I cannot juggle for the life of me. I do write snippets sometimes though, and I'll properly get into it sometime in the future. Includes,

Cool Swords

spirit companions

a Weird Magic System involving Threads and Needles and Weaving and Fabric. I swear it makes sense I just haven't figured it out yet

subways!!! alleyways!!! parkours and night views and leaping from rooftop to rooftop!!!

traumatized teens, again, and found family, again. But also actual family

qprs!!! heck yeah I love qprs

Yeah that's pretty much it. I have a handful of other ideas I may mention once in a blue moon, but they're sitting on the backburner for now since I'm only able to focus on one project at a time. I also dabble in fanfic, and might occasionally post a short story or a poem, but that's all gotten to be pretty rare.

I'll make proper pages in a while, but until then feel free to poke around in the main tags! The gen tags are #beast and #corrupted, while official tags are #wip: beast and #wip: corrupted (though the last one is largely empty).

See you around!

-Ser

[carniferous]

hi dil <33 i hope your week has been good! 2, 26 and 42 for the ask game pls

hiii it's been busy but pretty good! hope youre doing well mil <3

2. Where do you get your fic ideas?

from a variety of places but most often from things i read! my canon era fic ideas came from reading a bunch of canon compliant fics and thinking about how i could tackle jegulus in the canon era. also from reading the lovely posts on my dash (how i got into bartylus...)

but yeah i do generally follow that generic writing advice of the best way to write is to read. if i'm feeling particularly rusty with my writing the reason is probably bc i haven't read anything in a while

26. What’s your least favorite part of the writing process?

HMM this is a really good question. i think probably the beginning stages of a wip is when it's the hardest to nail characterization and atmosphere and so it's the hardest to write. when i look back at the early chapters of ibhfts there's SO much i want to change. but also for me ibhfts was an exercise to try and get over my need for perfection in my writing.... so i try to look back fondly on those chapters <3

42. What’s your favorite title that you’ve come up with?

AH i love this questionnnn okay so it's "one act play in which we never find the answer" bc i think it so perfectly fits with the story (barty and regulus trying to navigate the war after evan's death. two guys who have never found anything in their lives). and ALSO bc the title was inspired by this

i LOVE this poem + originally i was going to title the fic "dead man's float" bc of how much i felt like this poem encapsulated bartylus but then i ended up taking the one act play title and putting my spin on it and i'm super happy with it :)

[peppermint-chocolate-cherries]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

Oooh! I saw this fanfiction ask floating around earlier, I'm happy to receive it!

I know I talk a lot about plot bunnies, and have dabbled into character analysis, but the extent of my actual published writing is only four full fanfiction stories on AO3/FFN and two Valentine shorts on Tumblr. So I guess I can share all six.

You must log in to AO3 for the first four links below to work. If not, you can also find them on FFN, my profile is linked on my pinned post. The last two are Tumblr quickies, luckily I was able to find them again.

Absorbing The Deck

Matthew and Alfred are adopted by the Spades Royals when they find the imprints of future Marks on their skin. What will become of the twins when they meet the other Deck Royals? And what is this prophecy everyone is talking about? Cardverse AU, CanLiech, USUK. Spoilers for content warning: almost everyone gets killed off.

The Nefarious Mathilda Jones

Jones Conglomerates Incorporated controls the government. Its runaway heiress seeks to dethrone her brother Alfred, her husband Arthur, and the massive empire. While the mobs keep fleeing from the police, and others have suspicions, only Sergeant Gilbert Bielschmidt knows first-hand that Mathilda is hiding nearby. Crime, drama, mystery, once again a lot of murder and death, a heavy dose of social commentary, inspired by Batman and V for Vendetta, multiple ships.

The English Quixote

Arthur fell asleep in his London flat, and awoke in the kingdom of Ixaidel, in a magical realm far away. To the west, Prathage's civil war ends, but eternal winter remains. To the east, Stulikya's princess plans to overthrow her sister-in-law. As the realm's Don Quixote, Arthur must help correct misdeeds, break spells, and save kingdoms before returning home. Fairy tale satire, magic, LietCan, GerBela, SpaKraine, RusLiech, SwissCzech.

Only Aces Remain

The Aces of the Deck have noticed that something is wrong. They are missing memories, and dream of working with other Royals during a war. The two "Joker" fellows in the mirrors aren't helping, and neither is that sorcerer's soul. Who are they supposed to be working with, and how did only the Aces stay the same? How can they set things straight again, and at what cost? Cardverse, mystery, twisting plot between past and present, political drama. SpaBela, CanLiech, SwissHun.

Discovered

A Valentines Day 2018 one-shot where Arthur and Madeline's secret love affair is revealed to the other nations. Also, Spain is a rat bastard for rigging a bet on why Madeline keeps rejecting everyone else's advances.

Amber & Rue (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

A four-part one-shot from 2020 where Madeline learns on Valentine's Day that she has a secret admirer. After receiving a bouquet of flowers including rue, amber jewelry, and a poem, she meets her admirer for dinner. LietCan, with side pairings of GerBela and SpaKraine.

I'm not one to tag other people on these types of things, but if anyone feels like answering the prompt on their own go for it! Meanwhile, I'll go cross-post my Valentine ficlets to AO3 so that they can be more easily found in the future. After that, I'll continue my fae realm world-building for Damsel Causing Distress, now that my being-reblogged-daily poll is inspiring me to look at it more closely...

[forfuckssakejim]

Was going through my drive and found a paper? I wrote for my creative writing class two years ago. on the topic of "who inspires you to write" and i just sat and re read it??? and wow.

I got an A+ on it, and i remember my professor being in awe of it (as also with everything else I had written) and just.

it really struck a cord.

And i know I get a lot of asks about how i started writing. why i write. and i feel like this really just, hits home on that fact.

i was trying something new with my writing style, so its a tad weird.

I’m 5 years old, and reading is a thing I enjoy. Instead of playing during recess, I sit and read instead.  The words are a calming lullaby to anxiety in my veins, and I read and read and read; books that are way too old for me. I dream and imagine and escape to far off places. Worlds filled with magic and royalty, of adventure and history. 

I’m 7 years old and I’m a witch. I write and play in my own land of make believe where my words are a spell I cast upon the world all around me. I laugh and read and study too, and pen my own stories filled with magic and adventure. I wrote a story once, in a grade I can’t remember. I’m sure it was first, and Mrs. O was my teacher. We had to write a story, be it anything we like. I chose to write about a leprechaun who couldn’t help but seek out trouble wherever he may go. There was a plot that I remember not, but of a journey to be made. I looked upon the tattered map and declared “From California out to Maine”. I don’t remember what I wrote, or what names I chose to use, but my writing was amazing, at least that's what Mrs. O said. It was placed upon the Hall of Art, displayed for all to see. Was it by the library or the entranceway? Perhaps somewhere in between. People stopped occasionally to read it while they waited. 

I’m 10 years old and we moved to another town. It’s a brand new house and streets without a sidewalk and a much too long driveway. We built a shed in the backyard, and behind it where I made my castle. Using stones and bricks, I made it all my own. I play in the backyard and I have a dog now. He’s my favorite thing to write about. I still read, and read, and read. My friends sometimes wonder what is wrong with me. But I enjoy a good ol’ book compared to anything, so I read and write and make my own escape from real life. Mythology is my favorite, and I read about the gods and how the Ancient Romans and Greeks interpreted life around them. 

I’m 14 and discover that there are other people like me. People who like to write about established works and make their own twists and turns and type it out and share it with the world. I didn’t start out good. My thoughts were messy and jumbled and never seemed to flow quite right. A raging river and rocks all around, and me in my little boat without a paddle. 

And so I write. I write and write and write. Until my fingers ache and my brain is fried. I’m 26 now, and still writing. Over a decade of my life filled with wonderful stories I’ve created and shared. 100’s of thousands of words spanning a decade and a half of my life that I’ve put out into the universe.

I’m often asked if anyone inspired me to write, I think of my mom first, of the poems she wrote in high school. She encouraged my writing but she never was really an inspiration. And I wonder does inspiration even have to come from a physically tangible person? Do conversations with gods count? Does reading and wondering about origins of mythology and how it feels reading them that the gods themselves are speaking with me? What about the stars? They tell stories in formations, in words and patterns that other people may find tedious to decipher. The challenges in my life that I face, when I step back and re-examine from a different point. Taking words and strings of letters and forming new structures to fit the same narrative? Inspiration is not people and I'm the smartass Diogenes that holds up a featherless chicken and declares it a man to the annoyed Plato who declared man was not but a featherless biped. Writing and storytelling is such an innate part of who we are as humans, since our early ancestors passed down oral stories before words were even written upon a medium. And how were they inspired if they were those who created it? There had to be a source, the world around them shaping and forming a story that begs to be told. They looked to the stars and the world around them for bedtime stories. To write and to want to create is what makes us who we are at the core of our species. 

[leseigneurdufeu]

Lingua Complexa

I'm not a linguistics expert but I did create a bunch of (rather simple) languages for stories I'm writing, and while I'm nowhere near Tolkien's level nor his range nor the complexity and intricacy of his languages nor... well actually you know what Tolkien is the best and I'm but a worm.

To the point, here's a bullet-list of things you can use to make your fictional language sound more real (some are just real stuff from real languages I speak, some I invented but probably exist in languages I don't know: I won't specify which is which to avoid complaints):

Divide your pronouns between inclusive and exclusive: "We (including you I'm talking to) are doing this" VS "We (just us, not you) are doing that". Can also be used for other pronouns. A poet writing "I (excluding myself from that I) am feeling this" would either be writing a very detached kinda poem, using a first person narrator who is not the author, or explain in one word only how they don't feel like they are themself. That one is my favorite tip.

Have adjectives finish differently depending on whether the person talking is male, female, neutral/inanimate (he/she/it) or plural (they). Ex: "He is blue'an. She is blue'av. It is a blue'at table. Those blue'ar shoes are neat".

Take your "to be" and "to have" verbs off the table of conjugation. It generally isn't conjugated the same way than all the other verbs in most languages, due to them being the most commonly used verbs, being auxiliaries, and being disformed with the time and the use by foreigners (merchants, tourists...). Have them be conjugated in a new, exciting way, not the way all your other verbs are being conjugated.

On that note it's even better if you have a full category of irregular verbs (eat, drink, buy, sell being the first ones to have changed with foreign influences), but here we're on the bullet list to make your languages seem more complex than they are in easy steps. Not... actually making a complex language in a complex way.

Change sounds by having accents on syllabes, umlauts, trémas, circonflexe, tilds, doesn't matter. But only on, say, words taken from this or that language family if you're inspiring it from real languages. And only one accent per word, and not on every word! I know some real words have multiple accents but if you put too much of these it will feel cheap (again, this doesn't apply to Tolkien who is the god of modern linguistics and languages-inventing and is free to do whatever he wants with his accents, and also he had actual reasons to put accents here because his languages were complex).

Declinations. Have you considered that vocative and genitive could be funny things to develop? Not asking you to remember what ablative and dative are, nor to make accusative it's own thing, but genitive definitely needs to stand out and vocative makes for a more complexe-looking language. "Hey, Jack!" "Hey, Jack'oyl!" "That's Jack's shirt!" "That's Jackini shirt/shirt Jackini" and stuff like that.

Having two different plurals, one for words ending with a vowel, one for words ending with a consonnant. Better yet, having one typical plural, and one weird plural that only applies to six or seven words ending with seemingly standard sounds (all the same sound but these sounds are found elsewhere and considered standard in other words). Never explain why those are singled out.

on shirt jackini's subject, maybe have the haver and the havee switch places in the order of the sentence. It will make it look like you know what you're doing and drawing inspiration from not-so-famous languages.

add the same suffix or prefix to every word borrowed to another languages (your fantasy species didn't have computers until your isekaid protagonist came in with his laptop and made it a commonplace object? call it a Kompiooteryl. Fried chicken was introduced by your MC? "fride-tshikenyl". Also don't forget those borrowed words might be changed (as i just did) by having them written phonetically in the acquiring language.

That's basically it, I could have talked to you at length (well not that much) of belief-level indicators in conjugation and other subtilities but I think we'd be leaving the domain of simple changes to enter complexe's domain.

[terrainofheartfelt]

Do u have any book and movie recommendations?

sooooo many. you might regret asking.

I love books very very much, just in case you didn't know, so let me fire off at random some of my all time faves with and without blurbs.

poetry: Devotions, Mary Oliver | No Matter the Wreckage, Sarah Kay | Leaves of Grass, Whitman | Post Colonial Love Poem, Natalie Diaz

nonfiction:

My Life in France, Julia Child --- her memoir of moving to France with her husband post WWII and her discovery of cooking and deciding to write her cookbook and it's so charming and so her and it's just a delight

Open Me Carefully, Emily Dickinson --- a chronological collection of letters, poems, and letter-poems Emily sent to her lover sister-in-law Susan Dickinson. it's intimate, playful, kind, passionate, and the editors do a great job of putting it all together. and you read it and just know that you are only skimming the surface of the deep love these two women had for each other i gotta lie down

What I Was Doing While You Were Breeding, Kristin Newman --- funny sexy travel memoir by a TV writer who spent her hiatus months in the aughts summers by traveling solo and having whirlwind romances and also her reconciliation between being the woman who can't be tied down but also wanting to build a life with a partner.

The Real Traviata, Rene Weis --- an opera book because me. a biography about Marie Duplessis, the French woman who inspired Dumas to write La Dame aux Camellias and therefore Verdi's Traviata and THEREFORE Baz Luhrman's Moulin Rouge. she had by the most objective accounts a difficult and short life full of fear and illness and abuse but also full of strength and color and love and I found it really moving.

fiction: aka the novels I am thinking most about right now.

House of the Spirits, Isabel Allende --- an all time favorite. a historical, multigenerational epic that left me staring at the ceiling after finishing it. and cemented Allende's place as one of my fave authors

The Sentence, Louise Erdrich --- it's about ghosts and independent bookstores and indigenous women and community and love and trust and the pandemic. great novel.

Sex and Vanity, Kevin Kwan --- people are always looking for who they should crown the modern Jane Austen, and it's him. it's kevin kwan. this is a modern remix of A Room with a View and it is funny and sexy and sweet and was a delight to read.

Beautiful World, Where Are You, Sally Rooney --- my favorite of hers. I love how the chapters of story are interspersed with emails between the two leads. yes there's romance, but the real center of this story is the friendship between the two women.

On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous, Ocean Vuong --- entirely lives up to the tumblr hype. possibly exceeds the tumblr hype. I told my best friend to read this book. which she did. then scolded me because while she agrees it's beautiful it's also so heartbreaking. truly some of the most beautiful prose I've ever read. I checked it out from the library but i really want a copy of my own to mark up.

Bright Young Women, Jessica Knoll (out Oct. 3rd) --- i got this ARC at the librarian convention. I'm in the middle of it right now but I have to talk it up because it is sooooo good. It's about women who meet because they have the worst possible thing in common: their best friend was murdered by the same serial killer. It hops around between the '70s and the present day, reads like a thriller, and the thesis is really about destroying the myth of the criminal mastermind, a la all those true crime docs about dahmer and bundy. I'm almost halfway through and the murderer is only referred to as "The Defendant." It's about taking the narrative away from him, the universal defendant, and recentering it around the exceptional women whose lives he ended and/or destroyed. Again, please check it out when it comes out this fall. But be forewarned that the subject matter is dark.

as for MOVIES, well, if I tried to make a list like the one above I'd be here all day, so why don't I just list a handful that I consider central to understanding who I am as a person:

Monty Python and the Holy Grail

The Life of Brian

The Blues Brothers

The Princess Diaries 1 AND 2

Little Women (2019)

Juno

The Holiday

Pride and Prejudice (2005)

Star Wars, the OG and prequel trilogies

and, last winter I stumbled across The Four Seasons starring Alan Alda and Carol Burnett, and I thought it was delightful.

[elenajohansenreads]

Books I Read in 2023

#10 - Beyond This Dark House, by Guy Gavriel Kay

Rating: 4/5 stars

I've always struggled to write reviews of poetry collections, much the same way I do about short story volumes. Inevitably, I like some poems/stories and don't like others, and sometimes the difference between quality and likeability from best to worst (or favorite to least favorite) is so vast that rating the work as a whole seems meaningless.

When I was a teenager, my mother was going through some of her old notebooks and found one where she had copied out her favorite poems from a wide variety of poets, back in college. Before that I knew my mom was a voracious reader (I got that from her) but I hadn't known she had ever been interested in poetry, so that's when I got into it, too. I read it, I wrote it (usually poorly), I bought a blank book from a bookstore and copied out my own favorites, and ended up taking a few college courses on it despite my science-based major.

I tell this story to say, I'm not sure if I still had that book that any of these poems would get copied. (I don't have it, and I think it was full anyway.) But I did enjoy many of them, and as a collection divided into parts with clear thematic links, this might be the most successful grouping of poetry I've had the pleasure of reading.

Some of the themes didn't speak to me: there's a vibrant sense of place, as many of the poems noted the location where they were written, and while I have traveled a fair bit in my life, it's not a strong drive I have. (I generally travel to visit people, and incidentally get to a be a tourist where they live.) There's also a great deal about broken passion and what sound like long-distance relationships, which might lead me to assume some things about Kay's life that I haven't made and wouldn't make any attempt to verify; the tone of many poems is clearly autobiographical and I'll leave it at that, but little of it reflects anything in my life.

But what I did find here was something I'd been missing from modern free-verse poetry: a sense of the poet caring how the words sounded together, rather than just spilling feelings onto a page without meter or form to contain them. I didn't read any of these out loud, but I spoke them in my head, because that's how I've always read poetry, and they generally sounded good, while still having the clarity and sincerity of the feelings-spilling poets. A handful of poems were less clear, more deliberately obscure in their meanings, and those tended to be the ones I liked less, but even those didn't feel like I'd peeked into some angsty teen's diary (like my own, before anyone thinks I'm throwing stones, I wrote very bad poetry in those years.)

What I also found was inspiration. In the last week, I've roughed out two poems about aspects of myself in a similar style to Kay's, which are the first two poems I've written in probably fifteen years. I thought about my poetry professor from college and wondered if she'd be pleased or horrified to find out I've written romance novels in the years since her classes. I dredged up memories I hadn't visited in quite some time to see how I feel about them as an adult looking back. I thought a lot about what an autobiography in poetry form would say about me, and how that might differ from the person I want to be going forward. And I still want to write more poetry about that, though as I continue I hope to develop my own style again, possibly even ditching free-verse for structured forms as I revise. I did use to love the challenge of fitting meaning into those forms with careful word choice, it was like a puzzle I created for myself, and I love puzzles.

I can't give this work five stars because I don't love it the way that rating implies, but any poetry that served me as both entertainment and an invitation to reflect on myself is good poetry.

[grishamanimationstudios102]

Smurfs: Emo Smurf (fan story) part 2

- Next to Clumsy, Brainy was also crying. Hefty asked Brainy, "What's wrong with you?" Brainy answered, "I'm just as sad as Clumsy is! Just leave me to my misery in peace!" After the song was finished, the Smurf crowd clapped as Emo Smurf took a bow to the audience. Smurfette said, "Do you know what happened to his stuffed bunny, Papa Smurf?" Papa Smurf answered, "Well, it's been past 50 years since he had it and now I hardly remember what happened to it." The next morning, the rooster crows to start the new day. At the Smurf Village, Papa Smurf tells his little Smurfs to clean up the mess from last night's talent show. So, the Smurfs went to work on cleaning up the mess. Hefty said, "I can't believe we failed to cheer Emo up." Poet said, "Yes, but his song was awe inspiring. I should write a poem about it." Brainy said, "Yeah, sure. When the stuffed rabbit is found." The other Smurfs yelled out Brainy's name in annoyance. Meanwhile, Clumsy picked up what appears to be the stuffed bunny he found in the Smurf Forest. He soon remembered the song and realized this stuffed bunny used to belong to Emo Smurf. So, he quickly ran over to Emo's house and knocked on the door.

- Emo opens the door to see his missing stuffed bunny, long thought to be lost forever. He was overjoyed to be reunited with his bunny. "Where did you find him?", Emo asked. "Uh, one day, while you were moping 'round in your house, I found a cute little stuffed bunny at a nearby tree. But then, there was this heartfelt song of yours, and now I knew who it belongs to.", Clumsy explained. Emo said, "Wow! That's very noble of you, Clumsy! No one has ever managed to find my stuffed toy before!" Clumsy asked, "So, does that mean you'll revert back?" Emo answered, "Not exactly. Even though you helped me regained my emotions, I'm going to stay Emo Smurf no matter what."

- Smurfette enters with Papa Smurf, saying, "Yoo-hoo! Emo!" Emo said, "Smurfette! What are you doing here?" Smurfette said, "Just thought I'd come to congratulate you on your song." Emo asked, "You think so?" Smurfette said, "Yes! It sounded so smurfy!" Papa Smurf said, "You see, Emo? Every Smurf has a talent, even you!" The village leader then asked, "So, are you going to keep your stuffed rabbit?" Emo pondered at first and then answered, "You know, Papa Smurf, I think I've decided I no longer need it anymore." Papa Smurf and Smurfette said in unison, "You don't?" Emo said, "Nah. If there's one thing that taught me besides smurfing talents yesterday, it's that real friends are more important to have around." So, Emo hands the stuffed bunny over to Clumsy, believing the lovable klutz needs it more than he does.

- "Uh, gee, thanks, Emo! You're a true blue pal!", Clumsy said. The other Smurfs, even Brainy and Papa Smurf, were pleased to see Emo let go of his past plaything and learned to move on without it. "Looks like Emo and Clumsy finally smurfed a happy ending between them! Right, Papa Smurf?", Brainy said. "It certainly looks that way, Brainy!", Papa Smurf said. Once again, another issue has resolved and peace returns to the village. And from that day on, Emo began to socialize with other Smurfs more often and began to appreciate paricipating in their activities. But for the most part, he continued to be all by his lonesome to keep his title. And the other Smurfs didn't mind, though they can get annoyed with him from time to time. End of "Emo Smurf".

[dmagedgoods]

2, 22, and 42 for Daeran and Salvadore (and Len if you're comfortable)

2. What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare? Time to answer the question for Len. (I know you already read the reply for Daeran and Sal ❤️, so I’m just adding the link to make it complete: X) Waking up and finding Lenarius captured in nightmares or in a state of panic, Salvadore gently touches his/her arm and softly talks to him/her, hoping his voice will cause him/her to realize where s/he is and that there are no dangers around him/her. As soon as s/he becomes awake enough for the haze to clear a bit, Salvadore asks him/her if s/he is alright, if s/he wants to tell him about it and if s/he needs anything to feel better, water, light, fresh air … Whatever it may be, he gets it for him/her immediately. If it’s just comfort, he pulls him/her in his arms, makes sure s/he knows that he is there, protecting him/her against any threat and lets him/her know how much he loves him/her. Daeran probably woke up already as well, asking if they can carry their sappy confessions to some place where he doesn’t try to sleep. – Another badly played attempt at hiding his very obvious concern. It only takes him a moment to wrap his arms around Leonosa from the others side, placing a kiss on his/her shoulder. What follows could be quiet talking in the dark or if they feel more restless, Salvadore offers to read something to him/her or both of them or to try if music helps. If nothing does, preparing the early breakfast it is, this time the three of them. 22. What reminds each of their partner?

I answered it for Daeran and Salvadore here and you did for Daeran and Len 💕, so I'm adding the things that remind Salvadore of Lenarius: Valuable books, quills and parchment paper, every look into the night sky if it’s clear enough to see the stars, expensive garments in strong pleasant colors, poems and stories they read to each other, stage plays they watched together, rabbits, certain extravagant furniture, ballroom dancing, heavy fabrics, special pieces of expensive jewelry he spots that would look beautiful on him/her (he never resists buying those for him/her when it happens), riding crops, texts about the law, the feeling of commitment and devotion 42. What's their favorite type of weather to enjoy together? (getting snowed in together, watching thunderstorms, etc.) Salvadore loves the sun. – In a symbolic way as much as in reality. It’s his favorite weather for many things he likes to do with Daeran and Leonosa too: swimming, sailing, hiking, spending a free afternoon in the luxurious garden they’ll own … He also has a special love for long warm evenings, sitting outside with a glass of wine either in comfortable silence (enjoying the stars), listening to music or captured by a passionate conversation. Daeran agrees with him, after all he looks beautiful in the sun while rain sometimes makes it difficult to shine. Nonetheless, I like the very cliché thought of Salvadore using one of his wings to protect Daeran and / or Lenarius from getting wet. Daeran loves thunderstorms though and to watch their beauty from within while feeling alive with their energy. Salvadore finds them beautiful as well. The three of them could enjoy the spectacle from a cozy place. During more thoughtful (or even melancholic) phases, Salvadore has a secret fondness for clouds, their heavy gray and fog. He finds the mood inspiring and may be found standing in front of a window playing his violon for hours, filling the house with his music. I imagine Lenarius and Daeran listening for a while or just enjoying it while reading or writing letters.

[myimaginedcorner]

I just finished binge playing Scales of Justice and I loved it so much ! Shoren is such a darling but all my companions so far are also very nice, I really enjoyed playing the game

Meeting Nature was also so...uhhh how can I say ? Magical I guess ? It's interesting how motherly she was to the MC but so uncaring for their companions as they're not satyr related, I'm also glad that my assumption of the MC still having the horns and legs(plus tail !) was somewhat right

I wrote down more or less some stuff on my MC along a picrew as I'm a little tired to actually draw them but I still adored them and all the characters, excited for the next chapter but don't overwork yours okay ?

I'm so happy to hear that you've enjoyed my game!! Welcome to this small community, I hope you'll enjoy yourself here ^^.

Shoren's such an innocent darling, isn't he?

Your satyr sounds so amazing!! The idea of having them looking much more like a traditional satyr appeals to me - a graduate ancient historian - in a very personal way, haha. I'm very open to any variations that you'd like to have as your personal headcanon: while I do like to work on a wide, detailed lore, I see the beauty of interactive fiction in its open disposition to accept the readers' perspectives, and thus allow everyone see this story in their own, unique ways. Just as elves get changed by their chosen passions, so every playthrough gets subjected not only to my defined writing, but also to the limits of my audience's imagination.

Please do feel free to send through any art/character sheet/other expressions you've made for your MC from Scales of Justice!! Same goes for anything you create with the ROs, or any other piece of lore/extra characters that you've found interesting enough to develop by yourself. Be it art, sheets, small headcanon stories or even poems, I'll read and see it all!! I'd LOVE to be able to watch others get inspired my by own art, for it would be such a bottomless source of passion and motivation.

If you do, please tag me. ^^ I'll make sure to repost and reply to your amazing creativity.

Thank you for the ask xx