#Senior Source List

[seniorsourcelist]

How to Leverage Senior Telemarketing Lists for Effective Campaigns?

Telemarketing campaigns targeting senior citizens require a unique approach to ensure success. With the right telemarketing phone number list and customized leads, your campaign can reach a highly responsive audience.

At Senior Source List, we specialize in providing telemarketing leads that connect businesses with mature adults across the U.S. Whether you’re looking for old people’s phone numbers for your marketing efforts or a comprehensive telemarketing list tailored to your goals, we’ve got you covered.

Why Choose Senior Telemarketing Leads?

Accurate data is the cornerstone of a successful telemarketing campaign. We offer an extensive database of senior telemarketing leads, ensuring you have access to a robust selection of phone number leads. Our telemarketing lists are designed with precision to target the demographic you need.

Here’s why businesses trust us:

Unmatched Experience: With years of expertise, we understand seniors’ telemarketing preferences better than anyone.

Customizable Lists: Tailor your phone lists for telemarketers based on geographic location, income levels, and other criteria.

Compliance Assurance: We scrub all telemarketing lists against the federal Do Not Call List, guaranteeing legal and effective outreach.

The Importance of Targeting Seniors

Senior citizens are an influential audience for telemarketing efforts. They’re often more receptive to phone-based communication, making them a valuable demographic for products and services ranging from senior housing to health plans. By utilizing telemarketing leads for sale, businesses can efficiently engage with this audience and drive conversions.

Building a Strong Telemarketing Campaign

When you have access to old people’s phone numbers through a reliable telemarketing phone number list, you can focus on crafting a strategy that resonates. Here are some tips for success:

Define Your Goals Identify what you want to achieve — whether it’s driving sales, promoting services, or gathering information.

Use Custom Telemarketing Lists A one-size-fits-all approach doesn’t work. Senior Source List allows you to create lists specific to your needs.

Comply with Regulations Ensure your phone number leads are scrubbed against the Do Not Call List to avoid penalties and ensure ethical practices.

Focus on Personalization Seniors appreciate a personalized touch. Tailor your scripts to address their needs and build trust.

How Senior Source List Sets You Apart?

Unlike generic telemarketing leads for sale, our lists are curated to include the most responsive senior audiences. We’ve helped businesses in industries such as senior housing, insurance, and healthcare achieve exceptional results. By investing in high-quality phone lists for telemarketers, you save time, maximize efficiency, and boost your ROI.

Benefits of Choosing Our Telemarketing Lists

High Responsiveness: Reach a senior audience that is more likely to engage.

Comprehensive Data: We offer more phone numbers than any other data provider in the industry.

Cost-Effective Solutions: Achieve your marketing goals without overspending.

For additional insights on telemarketing strategies, explore these guides:

How to Buy a Telemarketing List: A Comprehensive Guide

How Telemarketing Leads Drive Success to Senior Housing Businesses

How to Create Leads Generation for Senior Telemarketing

Conclusion

A successful telemarketing campaign begins with a reliable telemarketing list. By partnering with Senior Source List, you gain access to old people’s phone numbers that are carefully curated for maximum impact. Whether you need telemarketing leads for sale or a customized list for your business, we ensure your campaigns are built on the best foundation. Start driving results today with Senior Source List — the leader in senior telemarketing leads.

[frog707]

more Kotlin progress

As mentioned, I'm teaching myself the Kotlin programming language.

I've now converted 16 small, open-source Java apps to Kotlin. I've learned a lot along the way, but the process is becoming repetitive.

Part of me feels I ought to do a "senior project" in which I write and debug a medium-sized app from scratch, so I can cross "learn Kotlin" off my to-do list. That'd be fine if I needed a medium-sized app right now, but I don't!

Recall that my motivation for studying Kotlin was to maintain Gradle build scripts. For me, writing Kotlin apps is like a side quest. It's important to keep focus!

Also, for me writing apps, Kotlin's advantages over Java are negated by the limited support for Kotlin in Apache NetBeans:

+ no auto-completion

+ no code formatter

+ no automated code inspection

+ no debugger

At some point I'll experiment with Kotlin in Intellij IDEA, but not today!

[heritageposts]

[...] During the early stages of the war, the army gave sweeping approval for officers to adopt Lavender’s kill lists, with no requirement to thoroughly check why the machine made those choices or to examine the raw intelligence data on which they were based. One source stated that human personnel often served only as a “rubber stamp” for the machine’s decisions, adding that, normally, they would personally devote only about “20 seconds” to each target before authorizing a bombing — just to make sure the Lavender-marked target is male. This was despite knowing that the system makes what are regarded as “errors” in approximately 10 percent of cases, and is known to occasionally mark individuals who have merely a loose connection to militant groups, or no connection at all. Moreover, the Israeli army systematically attacked the targeted individuals while they were in their homes — usually at night while their whole families were present — rather than during the course of military activity. According to the sources, this was because, from what they regarded as an intelligence standpoint, it was easier to locate the individuals in their private houses. Additional automated systems, including one called “Where’s Daddy?” also revealed here for the first time, were used specifically to track the targeted individuals and carry out bombings when they had entered their family’s residences.

In case you didn't catch that: the IOF made an automated system that intentionally marks entire families as targets for bombings, and then they called it "Where's Daddy."

Like what is there even to say anymore? It's so depraved you almost think you have to be misreading it...

“We were not interested in killing [Hamas] operatives only when they were in a military building or engaged in a military activity,” A., an intelligence officer, told +972 and Local Call. “On the contrary, the IDF bombed them in homes without hesitation, as a first option. It’s much easier to bomb a family’s home. The system is built to look for them in these situations.” The Lavender machine joins another AI system, “The Gospel,” about which information was revealed in a previous investigation by +972 and Local Call in November 2023, as well as in the Israeli military’s own publications. A fundamental difference between the two systems is in the definition of the target: whereas The Gospel marks buildings and structures that the army claims militants operate from, Lavender marks people — and puts them on a kill list.  In addition, according to the sources, when it came to targeting alleged junior militants marked by Lavender, the army preferred to only use unguided missiles, commonly known as “dumb” bombs (in contrast to “smart” precision bombs), which can destroy entire buildings on top of their occupants and cause significant casualties. “You don’t want to waste expensive bombs on unimportant people — it’s very expensive for the country and there’s a shortage [of those bombs],” said C., one of the intelligence officers. Another source said that they had personally authorized the bombing of “hundreds” of private homes of alleged junior operatives marked by Lavender, with many of these attacks killing civilians and entire families as “collateral damage.” In an unprecedented move, according to two of the sources, the army also decided during the first weeks of the war that, for every junior Hamas operative that Lavender marked, it was permissible to kill up to 15 or 20 civilians; in the past, the military did not authorize any “collateral damage” during assassinations of low-ranking militants. The sources added that, in the event that the target was a senior Hamas official with the rank of battalion or brigade commander, the army on several occasions authorized the killing of more than 100 civilians in the assassination of a single commander.

. . . continues on +972 Magazine (3 Apr 2024)

[v6quewrlds]

THIS LOVE I HAVE FOR YOU, JUSTIN HERBERT.

pairing⠀⁎⠀justin herbert x high school sweetheart!reader. word count⠀⁎⠀9.4k.

summary⠀⁎⠀you've spent the last ten years of your life supporting, adoring, loving justin herbert. for ten years that was all you needed: loving justin. until a night out with colleagues strikes you with the realization that loving justin has come at the expense of choosing almost anything else.

author's note⠀⁎⠀did a ridiculous amount of reddit forum research on finance + private equity for about three sentences. loved writing this one! potential au/series <3 warnings⠀⁎⠀3rd person (she/her), angst, language maybe?, one usage of y/n.

When you're sixteen years old, you think you know everything. You're in the throes of adolescence, your whole life ahead of you, and you're certain that the person you're with now is the one you're going to be with forever. You make promises in the hallways of your high school, whisper plans that your teenage brain isn't fully capable of understanding the sheer magnitude of into the phone, and organize every waking breath around the desperation to be together.

She had been that girl. Obsessing over emoji choices, angling her selfies just right, and idly writing his name in the margins of her notebooks in swirled cursive. Justin, Justin, Justin; she painted her entire world in shades of him.

For ten years, those shades of Justin, all things Justin, had been her entire life.

College was a learning curve for them both, but they managed to make it work. Justin's football scholarship had taken him just a few miles from home, and she had followed. She chose a safer, albeit more difficult major, finance, which kept her mind occupied while Justin's star on the football field grew brighter. Weekends were spent at his games, cheering him on as he threw touchdown after touchdown, her heart swelling with pride. Weekdays were spent in the library, her nose buried in textbooks and assignments, the fizz of energy drinks and the hum of her beat-up, noisy laptop her only companions.

Reaching the second semester of their senior year offered only a week of respite before Justin was thrown in the world of NFL Scouting. Her own dreams of graduate studies and a career in private equity felt like whispers in the shadow of his burgeoning football career. The conversations grew shorter, the dates grew less frequent, and the shared glances grew colder. Yet, they held on, promising each other that once he was drafted, once he had a team, once he had a season under his belt, things would go back to normal. But "normal" remained a mirage on the horizon, a concept that grew more and more distant with each passing day.

The only point of "normal" in their lives was her commitment to being exactly what Justin needed. She'd put aside her own aspirations to support him, to be the rock he leaned on. She'd given up on the idea of going to graduate school across the country on the east coast, accepting the offer of USC's more expensive Master of Science in Finance program to be close to him, to be his source of "normal" so far from home.

Paradoxically, his star power had awarded her praise and made her invisible at the same time. Everyone knew her as "Justin Herbert's girlfriend," the one who'd been with him since high school, who'd stuck by his side through it all.

She still remembered the way she had been praised online for a week after his draft night. When his name was called, 6th overall, he rose to embrace his parents first, his brothers, then her, a gesture that had been captured by cameras and splashed across the internet. "The girlfriend who said no to a full ride for love," the headlines had read. They raved about her dress, her smile, her poise. How she never hogged the spotlight, never took the shine away from him.

Their parents had always been thrilled, beaming with joy at the thought of their star-crossed love story. Holly had a running list of gorgeous wedding venues, while her father had mentally started envisioning the father-daughter dance. But as the years went by, and the seasons changed from football to weddings, she kept wondering when it would be their turn.

"Soon", was always Justin's promise. "Soon that'll be us. Signing marriage certificates, sharing a first dance, honeymooning in Hawaii". But soon had become a taunt in her mind. The season had a way of swallowing up time, leaving her with crumbs of attention and a mountain of empty promises. Her own life had become a series of "not yet"s and "just wait"s. And she had, she had waited.

She waited so long that she no longer had to carefully construct a hopeful response when their friends and family spoke about their future together. She waited so long that the question of "when are you two tying the knot?" had become a greeting rather than a curious inquiry. She waited so long that Justin's non-reaction to her hints about marriage had turned into a hope that by just ignoring it, it would come sooner.

All of these realizations had floated near her consciousness, just out of reach with the constant buzz of Justin's schedule. But during a night out with her coworkers, it had all crystallized.

She wanted to go to Johannesburg. It was possibly her most defining characteristic aside from who her boyfriend was, a desire that had been with her since she was a child, sparked by a documentary she had watched with her mother. She'd always dreamed of seeing the wildlife, the vibrant culture, and the stark beauty of the city she'd seen in the footage. So when another third-year associate, Noel, asked why she had never gone, she blanked.

The truth was, she had never left the country. Not once. Justin had never shown an interest in traveling, always citing his discomfort with flying private or his need to unwind at home, in Oregon, after the season. So, she never got a passport, hoping her lack of documentation would keep her from even looking at potential flights. But tonight, she finally had to admit to someone else what she had been too afraid to admit to herself. "Justin's schedule keeps us pretty busy," she'd murmured, her voice barely carrying over the chatter of the bar. "We haven't had the chance."

The silence that followed her confession to Noel was deafening. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, leaving her chest tight and her eyes stinging. So the conversation moved on, but the weight of her truth remained, a leaden presence in her chest.

Lightheartedly, the conversation eventually moved to relationships - or the group's general lack thereof. Not her. When Jordan casually asked how long she had been with Justin, she felt like a spotlight was shone on her. "Ten years," she replied, her voice a mix of pride and something else. Something that didn't quite fit with the expression on her face.

The group's collective gasp was a mix of awe and sympathy. "Ten years?" Folake questioned, a hint of pity in her voice. "And you've never been with anyone else? That's… intense, girl. You're only 26."

Her cheeks warmed with a rush of embarrassment she hadn't felt since high school. She took a sip of her drink, trying to swallow the discomfort. "It's not like that," she protested, her voice small. But the words felt hollow, even to her own ears. "We're good together. I've known him forever." She lifted her drink to her lips again, adding a monotone "literally" for good measure.

Her coworkers nodded politely, but their expressions remained skeptical. They were all young and eager, exploring the world beyond their cubicles, and she suddenly felt ancient and untouched by the world beyond her relationship. The realization grew sharper with each nod, each kind but knowing smile.

Her mind raced as she headed home that night, her thoughts swirling like a tornado of doubt and regret. While she had spent her college years tied to the sidelines, her peers had traveled the world, stayed out all night, and experienced the thrill of one night stands and heartbreaks. They had grown into their own people, shaped by the people they'd loved - and grown to hate. They'd learned from their mistakes, grown stronger, and had stories to tell. But her? All she had was Justin. For ten years, Justin was enough. But now, with the starkness of her own stagnation laid bare, she was no longer sure if it was enough.

The floorboards creaked under her feet as she entered the living room, the house eerily quiet without the usual background noise of Justin's video games or his humming of some Yacht Rock hit under his breath. She inhaled deeply, smelling the lingering scent of his meal prepped dinner - something packed with protein and greens, a meal she had learned to cook because it was what he needed.

She tiptoed into their bedroom, her eyes immediately picking up on his sleeping form despite the darkness. The TV was off, remote discarded haphazardly on the bedside table. She took a moment to simply look at him, the man who had been her entire world for so long. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and she felt the tug of something deep within her, a strange cocktail of fear rising in her throat.

As if symbolic of that fear, she could feel her drinks come up, threatening to spill the truth along with their contents. She swallowed hard, gingerly sitting on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. She tried to ease her breathing, the quiet of the night seeming to amplify every little sound.

Then the sheets rustled, and Justin's eyes blinked open. "Babe?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "When did you get back?"

"Just now," she replied, her voice wavering slightly. She stared at the floor, avoiding his gaze. Swallowing thickly, she added, "Go to sleep, J. I'll come to bed in a minute."

Justin exhaled deeply through his nose, nodding without protest and closing his eyes again. She chewed her bottom lip nervously, burying her face in her hands. How could she explain that she was breaking down because she had never truly lived? Because she had given up so much of herself for him that she didn't know who she was anymore?

She loved him. She swore she did. But as she stared at the ceiling, listening to his even breaths, she couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness. The house, once filled with the warmth of their laughter and shared dreams, now felt like a museum of memories rather than a living space. Each room was a shrine to a past she wasn't sure she wanted anymore.

"So, Saturday morning, Pat's gonna come over to help me with that entertainment center," Justin announced casually at breakfast the next day, his eyes on his phone. She stared at the cereal in her bowl, her spoon hovering above the surface.

"Okay," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't look up from his phone. "It's been sitting there for like a year, might as well get it done since I have some time."

She nodded, her mind racing. Time. That's what it boiled down to. Time for him to build his man cave, and no time for her desires to travel. The cereal in her bowl had gone soggy, the taste of the milk turning unappetizing in her mouth. "Hey," she started softly, unsure. "Can we… talk about something?"

Justin looked up, his eyes scanning her face, looking for a clue to her mood. "Yeah, sure," he said, setting his phone aside. "What's up?"

She took a deep breath, her heart racing. "Do you ever wish you had explored other options in college?" she asked, her voice quivering.

Justin blinked, once, twice, the question seemingly catching him off guard. He paused, tilting his head as he considered his response. "What do you mean, like majoring in something else?"

"No, I mean… with us," she clarified, her voice growing stronger. "Do you ever think about what it would have been like to date other people?"

Justin balked at that, as if immediately rejecting the idea. "What other options?" he asked, his tone one of genuine confusion. "I had you."

The simplicity of his response hit her like a sledgehammer. He had never doubted them, never questioned their destiny to be together. He had never felt the need to explore other relationships because he had her. But she was doubting, she was questioning, and it was tearing her apart.

"I know, but…" she said, pushing her cereal bowl away with a frustrated huff.

Justin's eyes tracked her movements, a frown furrowing his brow. "But what? Why would I need anyone else when I have you?" He reached out, placing a gentle hand on her arm. The warmth of his touch was familiar, almost comforting. Almost.

She looked at her hand, feeling the weight of the promise ring on her finger. "Because maybe we've been too comfortable," she murmured. "We've been together since we were sixteen. We've never really lived apart from each other, never experienced other relationships, other people."

"Babe," he began, his voice low. "Are you being serious right now?"

Her throat tightened as she met his gaze. "Yes," she whispered. "I just… I think we need to take some time apart."

Justin's hand retreated from her arm like it had been scalded. He sat back in his chair, the color draining from his face. "What?"

"I know this isn't what you want to hear," she started, her voice shaking, "but I think my entire identity has been wrapped up in being your girlfriend for so long that I don't know who I am without you." She watched as Justin's eyes searched hers, desperation and confusion swirling in his gaze. "I don't know if this is what I want anymore."

Justin's jaw clenched, his knuckles turning white as he clasped his hands together. "Are you breaking up with me?" the words spilled out. "Did I do something?"

She hesitated, her heart aching as she watched the shock wash over Justin's face. She had never seen him so vulnerable, so lost. "I don't…" she trailed off, averting his gaze. "I just think we need some space to figure out what we want."

His hands unclenched and he sighed, the sound heavy with disappointment. "Okay," Justin said finally, his voice barely a murmur. "I guess if that's what you think you need." He drew in a slow breath, closing his eyes and pinching at the bridge of his nose, as if trying to hold back his emotions.

Her eyes filled with tears as she watched him process her words. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's just…"

"It's fine," Justin said, his own voice tight. "We can take a break or whatever. I don't care."

But it wasn't fine. Not for either of them. The air in the room had thickened, their shared history hanging heavily around them like an invisible shroud. She felt like she was drowning in the weight of the words she had just spoken.

"Justin," she began, her voice cracking, "I'm sorry. It's just…" But she couldn't find the words to explain the maelstrom of emotions inside her. She felt guilty for her doubts, for the years of sacrifice she had made, for the future she was now unsure of.

Justin's eyes searched hers, his face a canvas of pain. "You don't have to justify it to me," he said. "I just don't know how we're gonna explain this to everyone else."

It was wedding season. A lineup of white dresses and happy couples with months-old RSVPs that now felt like a cruel joke. The thought of attempting to explain to her family and friends, to the brides and grooms who had eagerly invited them, was nauseating. So they agreed, not to lie, but to omit. They would still attend the weddings, dance, laugh, take photos, and play the part of the happy sweethearts.

The first wedding they had to face was a family friend of hers, someone she had known since childhood. The ceremony was held in a picturesque garden, the flowers in full bloom and the air filled with the sweet scent of roses and the distant chatter of guests. Justin looked dashing in his baby-blue button-up and dress pants. His skin glowed under the soft sunlight, and a pair of black sunglasses hung casually on his collar.

Her yellow bridesmaid's dress, her fourth in five years, hugged her body in a way that highlighted her figure. The fabric whispered against her skin as she walked down the aisle, her eyes focused on the altar. She felt Justin's gaze on her, the weight of his stare heavier than any bouquet. She didn't dare look at him, afraid that if she looked at him, she'd shatter the illusion or crumble on the spot.

The wedding was a blur of forced smiles and small talk. Every time her thoughts drifted to their impending breakup, she'd be yanked back to reality by a well-meaning auntie or uncle asking when it would be their turn. She would laugh politely, playing along, while the ache in her chest grew sharper with each passing minute. Justin, ever the charmer, fielded questions with his media-trained ease, but she could see the sadness lurking beneath his surface, a numbness that kept the creases from reaching his eyes when he smiled.

His familiar way of reaching out for her burned. The habitual hand splayed on the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd, the casual kiss on her forehead as he left her side to refill their drinks. It was second nature, and she hated herself for craving it even as she knew she needed to break away.

"You ready to go?" Justin's voice broke through her thoughts as the reception began to wind down, the newlyweds having made their grand exit. She nodded, clearing her throat and forcing a smile. "Yeah, let's get out of here."

They left the party hand in hand, a silent agreement to keep up appearances, but the second they were out in the open air, she let go. They walked the two blocks to their rented hotel room in complete silence. The room, much like their RSVPs, had been booked, for a couple, nearly a year in advance. A king-sized bed with crisp, white linens taunted her from the center of the room.

"I can call the front desk," Justin offered, his voice strained. "See if they have a single room available."

Her gaze remained on the bed, her heart racing at the thought of sleeping in the same room with him. She took a deep breath, willing her voice to be steady. "No, it's okay. It's just one night." She turned to him. "We've shared a bed for years. What's one more?"

Justin's eyes searched hers, his expression a mix of hope and despair. He began to say her name, breathing every syllable out as if it were heavy on his tongue, but she stopped him with a shake of her head.

"Justin," she said firmly. "I'm the one who put us in this situation. It's my fault. I don't want to cause any more trouble than I already have." She pasted on a smile that she hoped was convincing. "Let's just get through the night. I know you're exhausted."

He nodded, his throat bobbing with the effort of swallowing his emotions, all the thoughts passing through his mind dying on the tip of his tongue. She felt a heavy weight settle on her shoulders as she approached the bed. She slid under the covers, turning her back to his side of the bed, willing sleep to come and relieve her of the turmoil in her heart.

She was fast asleep by the time Justin finished his shower. The room was dark, the only light coming from the gap of the curtains allowing the city lights to leek into the room. Her rhythmic breathing filled the space, a sound that had once been comforting but now almost felt like a countdown. He slid into the bed with as much grace as he could muster, his movements calculated not to wake her. But as the mattress shifted, she rolled towards him, her head coming to rest on his chest.

Her skin was pebbled with goosebumps from the cold, her breaths shallow and quick. She was still asleep, her search for his warmth unconscious. He could feel the heat of her cheek against his bare chest, the softness of her skin against his. He wanted to turn the other way, to maintain the space they had agreed upon, but he knew her too well.

She didn't sleep well when she was cold, and the chill in the room had always been the perfect excuse for their cuddling. Realistically, he could call down to the front desk, request a blanket, and she would sleep well enough, but he didn't want to. He didn't want to give up this moment of closeness, of normalcy. So he lay there, feeling his chest rise and fall with each of her breaths, feeling her warmth spread through him like a warm blanket. For just one more night, he could pretend that she hadn't broken his heart. That she didn't want something that wasn't him.

He knew he should move her, give them both the space they needed to begin the process of breaking, but he couldn't. Instead, he wrapped his arm around her, pulled her closer, and kissed her forehead, her skin smelling faintly of the floral perfume she'd worn to the wedding. For a brief moment, everything felt as it had before their conversation—right, complete, as if their hearts were beating in sync.

The next wedding was for a college friend of theirs. It was an elegant affair at a historic mansion. High ceilings and chandeliers reflected in the polished floors, creating a dazzling display that managed to distract the other guests from the fact that she and Justin had kept to separate sides of the venue.

Justin had been avoiding her gaze all night, his heart hammering in his chest every time he caught a glimpse of her in her floor-length gown that brought out the warmth of her eyes and the radiance of her brown skin. He watched her mingle from the other side of the room, a chilled beer in his hand, his smile plastic as he talked with friends he hadn't seen in months, others in years. They all asked the same questions, the same "What's the mood in the locker room?" or "How do the new guys look?" and dreadfully, "When are you gonna be sending out your own invitations?" His answers were rehearsed, delivered with the same charm that had won over so many, but for some reason had pushed her away.

"Yo, Herbo!" A deep, jovial voice boomed across the reception hall, cutting through the chatter and the clinking of champagne flutes. Justin looked up to see one of his old college buddies, Jeremiah, striding towards him with a beer in hand. Jeremiah Wells was a towering presence, with a smile that could ease the pants off a snake. "How's the off-season treating you?"

Justin managed a smile, his eyes darting to her across the room, who was deep in conversation with two of her old college friends. "It's… yeah, it's been good, Wells."

Jeremiah slapped him on the back, bringing him in for a hug. "It's good to see you, man. And Y/N too, of course." Justin nodded, his heart twisting at the mention of her name. "But where is she?" Jeremiah scanned the room, his gaze finally landing on her. "Oh, there she is."

Justin's ears perked up at that. For all of Jeremiah's easygoing nature, he had always had a keen eye for the truth. He had a high level of intuition, a trait that made him an excellent day trader, and it was clear that he sensed something was amiss with her and Justin. "Is everything okay with you two?" he asked, his smile still in place but his eyes searching.

Justin took a sip of his beer, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. "We're fine. You know, life gets busy. Shit happens." He hoped the steadiness in his voice would be enough to throw Jeremiah off, but the way his friend's eyes searched his told him it wasn't.

"Come on, man. You can tell me," Jeremiah urged, leaning in closer. "If you guys are going through something, maybe I can help. Give you a different perspective?" He nudged Justin gently, his expression earnest.

Justin felt the pressure building behind his eyes, the strength in his posture threatening to crack. He took a deep breath, trying to keep the emotions at bay. "Jere," he began, his voice gruff. "It's not that simple."

"Try me. I swear on my life," Jeremiah said, his voice low and serious. "If you just need to vent, I got you, man. Whatever's going on, you know you can trust me."

Gray-green eyes flickered over to her. She was laughing at something one of her friends had said, and for a moment, Justin felt a pang of jealousy. He remembered making her laugh like that, the way her eyes crinkled at the sides and her mouth stretched wide, revealing that familiar row of teeth. He missed it. He missed her.

He didn't know how he was supposed to let that go.

"We're taking a break. Or breaking up? I don't—" he shook his head, cutting himself off. "I don't know what we're doing."

Jeremiah's smile faded, his eyes searched Justin's. "For real?"

Justin nodded, the motion almost imperceptible. "Yeah," he said, his voice thick with unshed tears. "For real."

Jeremiah's expression grew serious. "Shit, man, I had no idea." He took a step closer, his hand resting on Justin's shoulder. "But I'm guessing that was kind of the point? Not letting anyone know?"

Justin nodded again, his throat tight with the effort of keeping his emotions in check. "Yeah. She came home one night and said she needed to find herself and explore her options. Said she didn't know if this was really what she wanted." His voice cracked on the last word, and he took a deep, shaky breath. "We've got one more wedding to get through before we start telling anyone."

Jeremiah's gaze remained on him, filled with concern. "Justin," he said, his voice gentle. "Is that what you want? To 'explore other options'?"

Justin took a long pull from his beer, the cool liquid doing little to ease the burning in his chest. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I love her. And if that's what she needs, I'll do it."

If the way Jeremiah's lips pressed into a thin line told Justin anything, it was that his friend wasn't buying the act. "I didn't ask what you thought she needed," Jeremiah said, his eyes unwavering. "I asked if that was what you want."

Justin took a moment to consider the question. The truth was, he didn't know what he wanted anymore. All he knew was that the thought of her with someone else was like a knife twisting in his gut. "I just don't want to lose her," he said finally. "But if this is what it takes for her to be happy, then I guess I'll have to figure it out."

That wasn't it either. Jeremiah laughed, a low, knowing sound. "So I guess the answer to my question is 'no'?" A dark eyebrow quirked up. "If you don't want this to be the end, you gotta tell her, Justin. You can't just sit back and hope she reads your mind. If she's feeling lost, you've got to be the one to help her find her way back."

Justin stared into his beer, the condensation on the amber bottle pooling down the side, creating a wet ring around the bottom. "What if she doesn't want to come back to me?" he murmured, the words barely audible over the music.

Jeremiah's grip on his shoulder tightened. "Then you fight for her, man. You don't let the girl that you love just walk away without showing her what she's really giving up." His voice was firm, filled with the kind of conviction that only came from personal experience. "But you've got to be honest with her. If you keep playing this game of pretend, you're just going to end up hurt. Both of you."

Justin nodded, the words resonating deep within him. He knew Jeremiah was right, but the fear of rejection was paralyzing. What if she truly didn't see a future with him? What if he was the reason she felt so stifled? The mere thought of it was enough to make his heart ache. He took a deep breath, nodding with pursed lips. "Thanks, Jere," he said, his voice hoarse. "I'll think about it."

They stood there for a moment longer, the music and laughter of the wedding party a stark contrast to the gravity of their conversation. Then, with a final pat on the back, Jeremiah excused himself, leaving Justin alone with his thoughts.

He couldn't help but watch her across the room, the way she moved, the way she talked, the way her eyes sparkled with life. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time in years, really seeing her, and the pain of knowing he could lose her was unbearable.

He shifted his weight, leaning his back against the bar to get a good look at her. From across the room he was reminded of the first time he realized he was in love with her, before he could fully articulate all the intricate little meanings of love. It was at his Senior Night, after the final football game of his high school career. He had been surrounded by the cheers of victory, the smell of the field still in his nostrils, but it was her, with her smile and those damn beautiful eyes, that mattered most.

It took an entire PowerPoint to convince her to walk with him on the field. She was worried about taking the moment away from his parents and friends, but he insisted that she was just as much a part of his moment as anyone else. So, she'd walked with him, reluctantly, but with him nonetheless. He remembered the fro-yo date afterward, the way she'd laughed to the point of snorting when he'd accidentally spilled a spoonful of sugary ingredients all over the floor. He remembered her dragging him to the bathroom to retrieve a handful of paper towels to escape the glare of the unamused teenager behind the check-out counter. He remembered the way her eyes had shone when he'd told her that he'd follow her anywhere—even to the ends of the earth, if that's where her dreams led.

And here he was, a decade later, wondering if he had ever truly followed her anywhere at all. The realization was a slap in the face. He had been so focused on his own dreams, his own ambition, that he had failed to support hers. He had been so caught up in following his dreams that he wasn't sure if she was living out hers.

It was then that her point became clear. The weddings were a microcosm of their life together—beautiful, expected, but ultimately not hers. Just like her dreams, just like her life.

Finding a realtor had been surprisingly easy. She had a great job, an excellent credit score, and a clear idea of what she wanted. A one, or two-bedroom apartment with a decent view, a reasonable commute to work, and a park within walking distance. The real estate agent, a bubbly woman in her mid-20s named Esme, had shown her half a dozen options before she finally found the one. It was a cute, modern space with an open-plan living room and kitchen, and a balcony that looked out over the city lights. It checked every box and added a few more she hadn't realized she had.

"I think we like this one!" Esme announced in that sing-songy tone of hers. She shoulders wiggled in a little dance as she bounced over to her.

She nodded, her eyes scanning the space. It was a nice place, no doubt about it. The white walls contrasted nicely against the dark hardwood floors, giving the room a clean, spacious feel. The kitchen was on the smaller side but functional, with a sleek fridge and a gas stove that called to her inner chef. The living room held a plush couch and a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf that seemed to whisper promises of quiet nights and good reads.

But there was something missing. As she wandered from room to room, her excitement was tainted by the ghost of what once was. Justin would hate an apartment like this. He had always talked about a house with a big backyard and enough space so they could host barbecues and watch the sunset. She could practically hear his grumbled complaints in her ear. Not too loud that the realtor would be able to hear. No, he was always much too polite for that. He would grumble just for her with a pout that was so cute it made her want to laugh, even when she disagreed with him.

They had talked about their dream house so many times over the years. It had grown and evolved as they had, but it had always been a shared vision. Now, as she pictured herself living here alone, the vision felt like it was slowly slipping away.

"I do like it," she smiled weakly at Esme, who was watching her expectantly. "I… I think we can move forward with this one."

Esme clapped her hands together with a cheerful smile. "Perfect! We'll get the paperwork started right away. It's a popular building, so you're lucky to have snagged it." She began to gather her brochures and keys. "I've had a few clients wait just a little too long and miss out. But with your income and credit score, you should be good to go!"

She nodded, trying to keep the smile plastered on her face as she thought about the last time she had moved, the excitement of moving into her home with Justin after college. How they had toured homes in South Bay, looking for the perfect place to start their life together. Now, that perfect place with the marble counters she chose and the custom pool tiling Justin picked out was drifting farther out of her reach.

"Thank you," she said to the realtor as they exited the multi-storied, sleek apartment building, her voice a mere echo of its usual self. "I'll try to give you the green light as soon as I can."

Esme nodded understandingly. "Take your time! This is a big step. But I'm here to help." With a cheery wave, she left her side to find her car.

She stood on the sidewalk, the evening air thick with the scent of blooming jasmine and the distant sound of a laughing child playing in the nearby park. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks: this was it. This was her new life. No more sprawling suburban mansion with Justin's elastic headbands scattered on every surface possible, no more weekends spent hosting pool parties for their friends. She took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears that were beginning to spill over.

With a click to her remote control, the driver's side door of her sedan opened. Her hand trembled around the handle as she slid into the driver's seat, the leather cool against her skin. The door shut with a solid thunk, and she sat there, the sun beating down on the car through the window. Her eyes stunk, her breath hitched, and the tears she had been holding back for weeks finally fell.

Her chest heaved with the weight of her sobs, the keys still clutched in her hand, the metal digging into her palms. Her tears fell hot and thick on her cheeks, mixing with her makeup and leaving a salty taste on her lips. She didn't bother to wipe them away, letting them flow freely like the emotions that were tearing her apart. The dashboard of her car was the only witness to her pain, the only place she could let herself break down without fear of judgment or pity.

It was a painful, aching cry that seemed to come from the very marrow of her bones. The kind of cry that left her feeling both raw and exhausted. The kind of cry she hadn't had since her grandmother passed away. As her tears fell, she struggled to catch her breath, her heart feeling like it was being squeezed in a tight grip.

There was no relief in her sobs, no catharsis in the release of pent-up emotions. The reality of their impending breakup was sinking in, and she felt like she was drowning. She had never felt so alone. Despite the years they had spent together, it was as if she was just beginning to understand the depth of her sacrifice. She had been a silent cheerleader, a supportive girlfriend, but in the grand scheme of her life, she had willingly taken a back seat. And now, as she faced the prospect of starting over, she wondered if she was even making the right choice.

They had one wedding left. One last day to play the happy couple before they would finally, truly, be apart. In forty-eight short hours, the last ten years of her life would be over.

Yet, she couldn't bring herself to tell anyone.

The next wedding, a breezy ceremony down by the beach, was the last hurdle before their charade ended. The sun was warm on her skin as she stood in her bridesmaid's dress, a soft blush pink that matched the setting sun. A solid, white platform supported the couple and the wedding party as they exchanged vows, the ocean waves playing a soothing melody in the background.

Justin stood on the other side, his groomsmen's tuxedo fitting him like a glove, the light playing with the strands of his dirty blonde hair. It was a miracle he wasn't shifting uncomfortably in his suit, considering the heat of the late afternoon sun. She took a deep breath, trying to focus on the words of the bride and groom. The gel inserts in her heels were doing wonders for her soles, but she felt anything but grounded. She felt like she was floating, detached from her body, watching the scene unfold like a movie she was supposed to be experiencing first hand.

The ceremony seemed to fly by in a blur, and before she knew it, the officiant was prompting the bride and groom to repeat their vows. She glanced at Justin to find his eyes already focused on her. His hands were clasped tightly together, as if attempting to hold onto something unseen, his expression was one of quiet desperation. The love in his gaze was palpable, and it took every ounce of her willpower not to crumble on the spot.

"I, Alannah, take you, Tai, to be my lawfully wedded husband," the bride's sweet voice filled the air, and she felt the tension in her chest tighten.

"To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part," the bride continued, her voice strong and clear.

Confident.

Sure.

She felt the words hit her like a wave. Tears pricked at her eyes, the very same affect reflected on Justin's face. She knew he was thinking about their own future, or lack thereof.

When the groom spoke up to echo the vows, Justin broke. He had to look away from her, his eyes stinging with a pool of tears. The weddings had been torturous, but none more so than this one. They had always talked about their future, what their wedding would be like, the vows they would write for each other. It was cruel irony that the final wedding of the season was their closest friend's, and they would have to stand there, just across from each other, and watch someone else live the fairy tale that should have been theirs. The fairy tale that once was so close that Justin had started brainstorming all the promises he'd make to her at the altar.

She watched as he tried his best to keep his composure, feeling the weight of his pain mirroring her own. The wedding was beautiful, filled with the kind of love and promise she had always hoped her own wedding would hold. Yet here they were, standing before their friends and family with the fractures of their relationship laid barely beneath the surface, ready to shatter at any moment.

She barely blinked before they were inside for the reception. The ballroom was a whirlwind of activity, with guests mingling and congratulating the newlyweds. The sound of clinking glasses and laughter filled the air, the kind of joy that made her heart feel both full and hollow at the same time. She found a seat at the bridesmaid's table and picked at her dinner, her appetite lost in the sea of emotions crashing against her.

Neither of them had looked at each other since the vow exchange, the weight of the words still heavy in the air. The reception was a blur of small talk and forced smiles. They danced with other people, their bodies moving through the motions while their hearts felt like they were stuck in quicksand. But as the night grew late and the party grew tired, the DJ announced the final slow dance.

The opening chords of the DJ's song of choice filled the reception hall, and she recognized it instantly.

If I go a million miles away

I'd write a letter, each and every day

Nothing Can Change This Love by Sam Cooke began to play. The slow, soulful melody drifting through the speakers like a ghost from their past. It was their song, the one they had heard in a movie and decided it was written for them, the one they had danced to in the kitchen when they were both miserably under the weather, the one they had talked about playing at their wedding. Her heart lurched as she felt a hand gently on her shoulder. She turned to find Justin's blue eyes filled with a silent plea.

"Dance with me?" he asked, his voice maybe the softest she'd ever heard it. His eyes searched hers, looking for something she wasn't sure she had the power to refuse.

She felt the air leave her lungs as she nodded. They took their places on the dance floor, their bodies close but not quite touching. The music swelled around them, a poignant reminder of their shared history. The dance floor was crowded with other couples, but she could only see him, feel him. His hand found its way to the small of her back, pulling her closer, and she laid her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

Make me weep and you can make me cry

See me coming and you can pass me by

But honey, nothing, nothing, can ever change this love I have for you

Her body melted into Justin's embrace as they swayed to the rhythm, her hand resting on his shoulder, her cheek pressed against his chest. The warmth of his body seeped into hers, bringing a comfort she hadn't realized she missed so profoundly. His heart thudded beneath her ear, a reminder of the love they once shared, the love she was trying so hard to let go of. She could feel the dampness of his shirt where her tears had fallen, a silent confession of the pain she was in.

You're the apple of my eye

You're cherry pie

And oh, you're, you're cake and ice cream

You're sugar and spice, and everything nice

She could feel the vibration of his voice in his chest as he softly sung along to the lyrics, the words muffled and filled with a sadness she hadn't heard in his voice before. His hand slid up to the nape of her neck, his thumb brushing against her skin in a way that sent shivers down her spine. Her eyes closed and she let herself lean into him, the fabric of their wedding party attire rustling as they danced. It was as if the world around them had disappeared, leaving only the two of them, their hearts beating in a silent admission of love and loss.

You're the girl of my, my, my, my, dreams

That had always been his favorite line of the song. She knew it well, had heard him whisper it into her ear countless times, had felt it in every kiss and caress. Now, it felt like a knife twisting in her chest. She didn't know if she could do this, didn't know if she could stand here and pretend like this dance didn't mean anything when every fiber of her being was begging her to stay, to forget the ache of her heart and the doubt in her mind.

But if you wanted to leave me and roam

When you got back, I'd just say 'welcome home'

'Cause honey, nothing, nothing, nothing can ever change this love I have for you

She felt the warm, steady trickle of tears continue slip down her cheeks as she listened to the lyrics, feeling Justin's warmth and the gentle pressure of his hand guiding her through the dance. She could hear the way the lyrics caught in Justin's throat, the tremor of his voice as he sang along to the song, their song.

I know, I know, I know, I know, I know that nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing can ever change the love I have for you

The last lines of the song left her lips, finishing off where Justin's voice had completely given out. They held each other tighter, the music now just background to their silent, desperate conversation of touch and regret. Her breath was ragged, her chest heaving with the sobs she'd been holding back for nearly two months.

Justin leaned down, his cheek against hers. He didn't say anything, just held her there, the two of them moving in unison to the music that had played so many times before in happier moments. She felt his breath against her skin, the warmth of his body surrounding her, and for a moment, she pretended they were in their kitchen again, just two teenagers lost in the music and perfectly content with their love alone.

But the moment was shattered when the song ended, the applause of the guests echoing through the ballroom. They separated slowly, awkwardly, like two magnets forced apart after years of clinging together. She could see the wetness in Justin's eyes, the unshed tears that mirrored her own. He opened his mouth to speak, but she shook her head, the words caught in her throat like shards of glass.

He nodded at that, releasing her hand to shove his own into his pockets. Then he turned on his heels and disappeared into the crowd. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. She turned in the opposite direction, finding the bathroom to touch up her makeup before returning to the reception floor to enjoy the last few moments of mingling.

In the haze of her emotions, she had completely forgotten about the hotel room. Another room booked nearly a year in advance with a king-sized bed meant for two, for a couple that was no longer. As the reception wound down and the last of the guests bid their congratulations to the newlyweds, she found herself unable to move from the spot where she had been standing. The reality of the night ahead washed over her like a cold shower.

The silence in the car on the way to the hotel was oppressive, each mile feeling like a countdown to the end of an era. Her eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, avoiding the reflection of the city lights in the rearview mirror, which only served to remind her of the apartment she had just seen two days prior.

They managed to make it up to the room without a word, the weight of the evening pressing down on them like a heavy fog. Visibly, they both looked exhausted, drained from the weight of every emotion under the sun passing through them like conducted electricity. Once inside, she made a beeline for the bathroom, shutting the door behind her with a soft click that echoed through the suite.

All she wanted was to get out of her dress, take a shower, and crawl into bed. But even in the solace of the bathroom, she couldn't escape the universe's inconvenient timing. The dress that was perfectly tailored to her measurements and had slipped on so easily early that day was now unfathomably difficult to remove. The metal zipper seemed to have a vendetta against her, sticking and snagging with each painful attempt to pull it down. The shake in her hands and the tears welling in her eyes didn't help the process. It was as if the dress had become a metaphor for their relationship - something that once fit so snugly now felt suffocatingly tight.

She wasn't sure how long she had been fighting with the zipper when Justin's voice called out softly, "Hey, do you need help?" His words pierced through the silence. He was close, just beyond the door as if he had heard her frustration and come running. She took a moment to compose herself before responding, "Please." The door creaked open, and he stepped in, his eyes avoiding hers in the mirror. Gently, he took over, his strong hands making quick work of the stubborn zipper. The dress slid down her body, revealing her bare back to the cool air. She stepped out of the dress, the fabric pooling at her feet.

She sniffled, failing to maintain her composure as she wrapped her arms around herself. Justin took in the sight of her, his heart clenching. He had seen her in various states of undress over the years, but this moment was different. This was not intimate, but a silent understanding that this could the last time he'd ever see her like this. Vulnerable, near naked, and so utterly beautiful.

"Hey, talk to me," Justin whispered, reaching for a white robe to hand her. The fabric was soft, the hotel's emblem embroidered neatly on the chest. She took the robe, her trembling hands proving useless in the task of tying it. Justin stepped in, his hands deftly wrapping the material around her, his touch gentle and tender.

She turned to face him, her eyes swimming in unshed tears. "I can't," she whispered back, her voice cracking.

Justin took a deep breath, his own eyes glistening with the same pain. "Can't what, baby?" He stepped closer, his hand resting on her shoulder.

"I can't talk to you," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's too hard. Seeing you, touching you, it's too much." She took a deep breath, willing herself to stay strong. "I'm not ready to let you go, but I feel like I have to."

If Justin could fall to his knees and thank whatever deity had brought him to this moment, he would. Instead, he swallowed his pride and fear, and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. He could feel her body tremble against his own, and for a moment, everything was right in the world. "You don't have to," he murmured into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. "We don't have to do this. I don't want to do this."

'Want'. His conversation with Brandon echoed through his mind. He could practically hear him say, 'What do you want, Justin?' The answer had always been relatively simple. But now, it couldn't be more simple. He wanted her. The woman who had been his everything for a decade. The woman whose hand he had held through countless highs and lows, whose smile had been the brightest spot in his darkest moments.

"But we—" she started, only to be cut off by Justin who shook his head.

"No," Justin said firmly, pulling away to look at her. "We don't have to do anything we're not ready for. I know we said we'd go through with this, but I can't lose you." His eyes searched hers, looking for a glimmer of hope. "I don't want us to go on a break or break up. Not because it would be inconvenient or… or because I'm comfortable. I don't want to lose you because you're the only woman I've ever loved."

She looked up at him, the robe feeling like it was made of lead on her shoulders.

"Every time I've told you I love you, I meant it," Justin continued, his voice shaking. "I can't imagine how much it must hurt you to think that I don't mean that wholeheartedly. I know I've dropped the ball; I know I haven't been there for you like I should have been. But, baby, I want to be. I need to be."

She felt her resolve slipping. "Justin, you're going to be okay," she said, trying to convince herself as much as him. "You're a catch. You're going to find someone who'll love you for you."

He took a step closer, his eyes searching hers. "But I don't want anyone else. I want you. Only you." His hand reached out to wipe away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. The touch was electric, sending a jolt of feeling through her body that she hadn't felt in so long. "You said that you thought we didn't experience enough of the world to know that this is it for us," he said, his voice low and earnest. "Well, I'm telling you now, I don't need to. I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I will do whatever it takes to make this work. To make you happy."

She exhaled but didn't speak, allowing him a chance to finally fight for her. "I can't let you walk away from me without telling you that I've spent the last ten years of my life in awe of the woman you've become," Justin whispered, his thumb lingering on her cheek. "I want to wake up to your smile, watch you conquer the world, and be the shoulder you lean on. I've made mistakes, I know, but I want to learn from them, and I'll keep learning. For you, I'll do whatever it takes."

"But, you could make another woman so happy," she replied, her voice cracking with the weight of her words.

"I don't want to make another woman happy. All I've ever wanted is to make you happy," Justin said. It was his turn for his voice to crack with emotion. "If you want us to start over, relearn each other, explore who we are now, I'll do it." He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. "I will relearn everything about you, no matter how long it takes, because my favorite part of living this life is living it with you. I don't know how I'm supposed to let you walk when you're everything I need. You're all I've dreamed about and everything I've planned for."

He reached for her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. "I love you. And I'm not willing to let go." His voice was a gentle plea, the desperation in his eyes mirroring the tumult in her heart. "Give me a chance to make it up to you," he whispered, his thumb brushing away another tear. "Give us a chance. Please."

Her breath caught in her throat, the words she had so desperately needed to hear echoing in her ears. The love she had pushed aside in her quest for self-discovery rushed back to the forefront, threatening to drown her in its intensity. She searched his eyes, looking for any hint of doubt or insincerity, but all she found was raw, unencumbered love.

All she could do was nod, the dam of her emotions giving way. Justin's eyes searched hers, hopeful and desperate. "We can work on us," he murmured. "We can grow together, support each other's dreams, and build the life we've talked about for so long." He paused, his heart racing. "Just please say yes."

Her eyes filled with fresh tears as she whispered, "Yes." It was the softest, most hopeful sound she had made in weeks. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. The relief that flooded through him was palpable, radiating off of his skin, his embrace tightening around her. He took a deep breath, inhaling her scent as if it was the sweetest perfume in the world.

[guzhufuren]

do you have a post for wlw shows in specific? i dont mind just going through your main masterlist if not

as well, do you have any wlw shows w transfem leads? that one might be asking for too much, lol.

i don't have an asian wlw list yet, but i will make one here for you bun! i will only be including shows that pass my personal minimum standard for dramas. all shows are sorted in a recommended watching order

WLW

1. She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat neighbours; self-discovery; food; comfort watch

Nomoto loves to cook, but tends to make too much food and has no one to share it with. Luckily for her, turns out her neighbor Kasuga has a big enough appetite for the both of them.

No international streaming available, translated to english by Furritsubs, S1 & S2, watching instructions provided, consider supporting the translator on kofi.

2. The Loyal Pin period drama; princess/noble lady; childhood friends to lovers; forbidden romance

A love story set in 1950s Thailand, about naughty but charming Princess Anilaphat and prim but kind Lady Pin, who are close friends and have grown up together.

YouTube

3. Uranus2324 movie; sci-fi; astronaut/diver

Story of Lin, an astronaut who is about to embark in a remarkable space mission and Kath, a passionate free diver who is willing to defy the limits of time and space just to meet with her lover over and over again.

Netflix of South Asian countries (can be accessed with VPN)

4. Petrichor crime; investigation; cop/forensic doctor

Lieutenant Tul, a rookie officer and Dr Cherran, a physician from the Institute of Forensic Sciences, become reluctant partners.

iQIYI

5. 23.5 high school setting; secret admirer

Ongsa moves to a new school and meets Sun, a cute popular girl who she immediately falls for. However, she decides to approach Sun in instagram dms under the pseudonym Earth, leading Sun to believe she's talking to a guy. But Ongsa does not want to lose the opportunity to talk to Sun, so she decides to keep the fact that she is a girl a secret and continue talking as Earth.

YouTube

6. Ayaka Is In Love With Hiroko office setting; comedy; misunderstanding

Ayaka, a young office worker, is madly in love with her senior team leader, Hiroko. As Ayaka tries to make her attraction known, Hiroko consistently misreads the situation, thinking that Ayaka is a straight girl.

GagaOOLala

7. Soul Sisters period drama; wuxia; crossdressing; arranged marriage

Gu Jinyu has disguised herself as a man since childhood. While undercover, she is kidnapped by Bai Yunxi, the sweet but clumsy heiress, and forced into a marriage. The two form an unexpected partnership to save the failing stronghold, facing rival plots, enemies, and challenges.

iQIYI. *Because of chinese laws demanding censorship of queerness, the romance is censored and toned down to sapphic homoerotism for the show to be able to be broadcast. Nevertheless it's pretty obviously meant to be a romance.

8. Couple of Mirrors period drama; socialite/assassin

You Yi is a kind-hearted socialite and a successful author. Her perfect life is turned upside-down when she discovers a betrayal by the two most trusted people in her life. With no one left to turn to, she finds refuge in the friendship and support of Yan Wei, a lonely female killer disguised as the owner of a photo studio. YouTube. the show doesn’t have a happy ending, but it can be a happy ending for you if you stop watching at episode 12 timestamp 28:02. *Adapted from an explicitly queer novel, the show is undeniably and obviously queer, but nevertheless the queer romance part is censored.

9. Affair childhood friends to lovers; love triangle

A girl's life is upended by family bankruptcy. Her best friend becomes a source of comfort. They get separated, but years later they reunite, reigniting old memories and feelings amidst changed circumstances.

YouTube & iQIYI

10. Us love triangle

Dokrak crosses paths with an older dentistry student Pam during her coffee shop shift and gradually develops a crush. When her brother Kawi meets Pam, he falls for her at first sight. Kawi turns to Dokrak, asking her to play matchmaker and Dokrak agrees.

YouTube

11. The Secret of Us exes to lovers

Dr. Fahlada guards her heart due to a past love, rendering her unable to open up again. Her situation becomes complicated when she has to work with Earn, her ex girlfriend, who has come to work with her at the hospital.

Netflix & Ch3+

12. Pluto twins; blind character

Twins Ob-oom and Ai-oon are worlds apart until Ob-oom's wedding, when she tasks Ai-oon with breaking up her affair with May. A tragic turn leaves the newlywed comatose, and Ai-oon must carry out the request, only to find May is blind. And fall in love with her.

YouTube

13. Reverse 4 You superpowers

One sister foretells the future, and the other controls time. When a promised love seems doomed to tragedy, the pair sets out to change fate itself.

Netflix

14. She Makes My Heart Flutter bar setting; niece and aunt dynamic

The extroverted Gang Seol is hired by her aunt Jung at her only-women bar. Even though they are both lesbians, they seem to be worlds apart and have very different love stories.

YouTube

15. Sleep With Me radio; disabled character in a wheelchair

A science textbook writer with a sleep disorder meets a wheelchair-using radio host who runs the midnight shift. This chance encounter at the radio station quickly sparks their interest in each other.

GagaOOLala

16. GAP The Series office setting; boss/employee; class difference

Long after Sam first came to Mon's rescue when they were kids, Sam is unambiguously Mon's idol. In order to be near Sam, Mon gets a job working under her. When they finally meet again at the office, Mon is surprised by Sam’s icy exterior, so different from the image she'd had of her. Mon and Sam aren't just different in demeanour; they stand apart in class and age.

YouTube

17. Lucky My Love office setting

In the pursuit of love, Nabdao has been doing everything. She has got her fortune read. She's gone on a string of blind dates. Unfortunately, no one seems to be on the same page as her. She starts to think that perhaps her gorgeous and caring boss Pheem could be the one for her. Then Vela, her new team leader, comes into the picture and shakes things up with her observant and affectionate care.

YouTube

18. Show Me Love beauty pageants

Meena moves to Bangkok to achieve her singing dreams. She chances across Cherine who asks Meena to join her in a beauty pageant. The girls' journey for the crown begins and a romance between them sparks.

YouTube

19. My Marvellous Dream Is You magical dreams; actress/personal stylist

Dawan's father abandons their family to elope with a neighbor girl's father. Turns out this is Kimhan, who Dawan has been seeing in her strange yet lovely dreams for years. While they become friends in reality, Dawan hides her deeper feelings, as in her dreams their bond goes far beyond friendship. She never realizes that Kimhan shares the same dreams.

YouTube

20. Unlock Your Love

Rain locked up her heart after getting disappointed in her past relationship. However, things turn around when Love enters her life. They embark on a journey to “unlock their love.”

YouTube

21. Love Bully barwoman/heiress; obstacles

Irene and Night meet at the bar Night works in the night Irene returns from overseas, and hit it off instantly. However, their passionate relationship is threatened by meddling people who want to ruin it.

YouTube

Various chinese WLW mini web-dramas.

Various chinese WLW short films.

WLW as side couples:

1. Wedding Plan mlm wedding planner/groom; lavender marriage

Nuea is a professional wedding planner. Sailom happens to be the perfect man for Nuea based on his visual considerations for a man. But the universe has an unimaginable sense of humor as Sailom and his fiance Yiwa turn out to be Nuea's new clients.

Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or cut on Youtube & iQIYI (special episode), girls don't have high heat scenes here so you can just watch Youtube version for them

2. Love Sea mlm rich big city writer/countryside diver; class difference; wlw personal assistant/celebrity

Tongrak is a writer of popular romance novels. After travelling to countryside in search of inspiration, he chances to meet an irritating southern man Mahasamut. When they end up in bed together, however, Tongrak finds himself hooked. Tongrak has a secretary Mook and a popular actress best friend Vi. Vi enjoys ordering Mook around as if she was her own assistant.

Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or cut on Youtube

With smaller screentime there are wlw side couples in shows: Bad Buddy, I Feel You Linger In The Air (this one has period typical homophobia and assault though, so careful).

Bigger list of asian GL shows: link [tumblr post].

Transfeminine representation in asian QLs:

1. 23.5

Secondary couple are a pair of teachers, both of them trans women played by trans women. For now this is the only show that has a sapphic trans plotline, even though small.

YouTube

2. 3 Will Be Free polyamorous trio; on the run; mafia

After an unexpected event that involves sex work and mafia gangs, three individuals find themselves on-the-run together as they attempt to escape death. Important secondary character is a trans woman played by a trans female actress. Has a trans storyline in the show (the girl gets male romantic partners). Trigger warning for transphobia. YouTube

3. Secret Crush On You “nerd”/popular guy; queer friend group; university setting

A nerdy young man Toh fell in love with a popular third-year senior. Because his dream is so far from reach, observing is the only thing he could do. Toh has a queer friend group, one of them is a transfeminine/3rd gender/kathoey character Daisy. Can be a bit jarring for a western person at first, but her story is very lovely if you give this girl a chance (also gets male romantic partner).

YouTube

Noticeable small appearances of trans female characters: The Sign (the actress Yoshi was the 2019 winner of Thailand's biggest trans beauty pageant, YouTube), Not Me (YouTube), You're My Sky (Viki), KinnPorsche (iQIYI).

Sadly we aren't at a point where Thailand makes shows with trans people as leads yet, even though I so badly wish it was already a thing. But trans women and kathoey generally have supporting roles in BL and GL shows very often, so you can see them a lot in stuff! It's the transmascs who never ever appear here!

Queer shows directed by trans women and transfem people:

Anucha Boonyawatana is a trans woman and the director of Not Me, mlm show about anarchist freedom fighters (YouTube).

Golf Tanwarin is a nonbinary director and the first openly transgender person to have been elected as a member of parliament in Thailand. They were the one who submitted the thai marriage equality bill to parliament, which since then has been approved in 2024 and came in legal force 2 weeks ago. Their directing works: Love Bully (wlw, listed above), The Eclipse (mlm show about repressed boys in a corrupted school system, YouTube), Wandee Goodday (mlm boxer/doctor romcom, Viki).

Just in case, adding shows where I personally enjoyed headcanoning characters as transgirls or enby transfems sometimes:

1. Meet You At The Blossom

Romantic interest is wearing female clothes and makeup for disguise in the first episodes, and despite not passing well no one questions that this is a woman. The character is happily called "wife" by the lead character until the end of the show.

YouTube & GagaOOLala & Viki & iQIYI

2. The Sign

Main character used to be a female snake princess in his past reincarnation. Sometimes played by a female actress, sometimes by a male actor, but always referred to as a princess and wearing period thai female clothes. It's also possible to headcanon the character as a transmasc here though, it's really neat.

YouTube

Many of all these shows are free on YouTube, in other cases I recommend paying for subscriptions to show appreciation and support of content in order to get more of it in the future, but if you can't or don't want to, you can watch online on KissKH or get files from MkvDrama!

Blogs you can follow to get updates and posts specifically about asian GLs: @girlsloveupdates @glgifs

[orangepeelknives]

good morning willmack nation now that the szn is over i think it is time to revisit the "who would you take in a zombie apocalypse" tiktok it is soooooo important to me for characterization.

nearly everybody saying theyre taking will with them is sooo...

does he have any particularly useful survival skills? no. would he be helpful in any way? also no. would he actively make things worse?? extremely likely. but everyyyyybody and their MOM wants princess diana with them. sharks personality hire as FUCK! extremely reaffirming to my belief that will is friends with the whole team and universally adored and the only reason mack ever hangs out with ANY of them is because they invite will and he's like okay :)))) mack and i will be there in 20 just gotta go pick him up rq :)))))) and theyre just like......ok sure. you do that. you bring mack.

also reaffirming to my belief that mack is a BITCH to be around without will also around. this is lowkey completely canon it's so obvious from sooooo many different sources (aka the tiktok awards media, aka the iihf media, aka mack literally flagging will down on the bench for him to solve his crashouts for him) but still this is important reaffirmation here. will is the bratlin celebrini WRANGLER and everybody knows it. and he's socializing mack one team hangout at a time.

ALSO also, will is quicker to tak about just him and mack. hanging out just him and mack. in his brodie interview, him saying mack and him are the young guys on the team. ect. MACK is always bringing up hanging out in GROUPS, groups with unspecified mystery people. """the guys""". mack went to college when he was 17, he was the best player on the team by FAR no competition. the only person he really knew going in was his older brother, who he is leagues ahead of. im not saying that they arent close but if u are aiden celebrini you do NAWTTT wanna spend every waking moment with your 17 year old special boy little brother with the social skills of a feral cat who is also outpacing you completely in the most important part of your life. first overall pick, youngest hobey baker winner, second coming of crosby....yeah theres resentment there when it's questionable if you even wouldve gotten DRAFTED if not for your familial connections. also, we knowwwww how mack is on the bench with no WSH to wrangle him. a DIVA. a BRAT. getting into it with your fifth year senior captain at the age of 17????? mack was NAWT being best friended by the BU hockey team i can tell you that much.

i am of the opinion that mack spent a lotttt of time On The Outside. before college, in college, ect. a lawtttt of time not being invited to parties or hangouts or playdates or whatever. he's better than everybody and he knows it. timeline wise he was ahead of everybody too. and he doesnt have the social skills of one WSH. he's not locker room darling. this is gonna make anybody insecure but especiallyyyyy somebody who already probably has a fucked up attachment style. IMO, this is a pretty big insecurity for mack, which is why he is always emohasizing the group thing. he probably is also a little aware of the fact that will is the Favorite, therefore bringing it up more in interviews, ect. will, not insecure about his position in a group at all, always the It Boy, always in the in crowd, universally adored and doted on and mothered, doesnt even really think about this, its a given that he's always on the guest list. therefore it's not gonna be something he ever feels the need to emphasize.

anyways. thank you zombie apocalypse tiktok. thank you shradmin.

[star-anise]

are we talking about broke therapists yet?

I've been out of things for a couple of years now, which is why I'm willing to talk about it, and maybe the pandemic has helped things a little, but holy shit the counselling and psychotherapy field is not equipped to help its practitioners in the gig economy.

Of all my interests and talents, I pursued a degree in psychology because being a therapist is supposed to be a safe, stable, well-paid job. Every therapist I met who was registered before 2008 worked and lived under that assumption. And oh boy are all the fee structures--registration, supervision, continuing education, conferences--set up for that scenario.

After getting my Master's, I struggled like hell to get a job. It was especially bad because to get my license, I needed a supervisor to take me on. To take me on, most supervisors wanted me to already have a caseload and client base. To get a caseload and client base, I needed a job.

Friends: Every single job I heard back on wanted me to have my license before I could even land an interview.

Professors and career advisors and professional development specialists all advised me very earnestly to just keep cold-calling people on the supervision list, and it began to feel a lot like my parents' friends telling me to hit the bricks and hand out resumes. That's what worked for them, right?

I finally got a supervisor who agreed to take me on, and I'd be able to use her clinic for advertising and workspace, and we were doing the paperwork to send in with my registration, when she called me up and said, "Is this job going to be your only source of income? If you're trying to depend on getting clients and building your practice for your basic needs, this is not going to work out. This has to be something you're doing on top of a basic salary. Okay, so you're not working anywhere else right now? I'm sorry, I can't move forward with this."

Even once I landed a supervisor and a job building my own private practice, I struggled. I have ADHD and am not great at self-promotion, so trying to do all my own advertising, scheduling, bookkeeping, billing, and records management (on top of counselling) was an enormous strain. One my bosses, supervisors, and other senior professionals watched with a slightly critical eye, but consoled me about because in their early days, their clinics had had business managers, receptionists, filing clerks, and accountants, and getting used to doing everything online yourself was a bit of a learning curve, wasn't it?

I counted my pennies very carefully, because I had to pay my supervisor roughly $180 for their services every 6 hours of in-person counselling I did. This meant that to break even I had to charge my clients an average of about $30 (plus room rental and service fees) an hour--and my clients, being people with complex trauma, were frequently poor, disabled, unemployed, and had no health benefits, so even $10 or $20 a session was a lot for them.

Maybe it would have been easier if I could have taken some of those nice comfortable organization positions where they find clients and funding for you and you work 40 hours a week and get benefits and a pension, but I had to be disabled into the bargain, so working 40 hours a week just isn't possible for me. I start passing out from stress and exhaustion. Older colleagues gave me serious-faced advice about approaching my employer and asking them for some flexibility and accommodation in my schedule, and I tried to explain across the gap between us that employers simply did not hire me if I made the slightest noise about the workload. They weren't going to invest in me as a person; they were hiring 40 units of work a week, and if I wouldn't do it there were a dozen applicants after me who would.

At one point I broke down enough to email my licensing body because the Annual General Meeting/Professional Development Conference was coming up, and I wanted to attend, but I could not produce $500 to do it with. Was there some kind of way I could attend anyway? I felt ashamed to have to ask, and then absolutely mortified when the response came from the organization president, who needed to personally sign off on me being too poor to attend the single most important event in my profession's calendar year.

I honestly felt so ashamed all the time at how I was apparently failing to be a successful therapist, failing to be rich and successful, and every time I mentioned it around mentors and bosses, I could feel myself shrinking from a person to a problem to be solved. My closest therapist-friends and I have reflected on how much more difficult, poorly-paid and underworked, our various career starts have been than we were ever warned about. About the classmates and coworkers who couldn't get disability exceptions when they fell behind in their registration requirements, or burned out and left the field, or dropped their registrations and took up as life coaches, or moved their whole family somewhere exceptionally remote or rural because it was the only good job available, or worked for some godforsaken app skirting the bounds of malpractice like BetterHelp.

I like those conversations, because I feel less like an absolute fuck-up in them. There's less "Hey Lis, you were so talented in grad school, I really admired you, what are you doing now?" "Oh, I, uh... am professionally disabled, so I get government benefits, and I... sell embroidery patterns on Etsy now."

My own therapist kept asking if and when I felt like going back to being a counsellor, and I finally told him: I don't, actually. I don't want to go back and do it like I was doing it before. It was a profession I loved to the depths of my soul, and it profoundly did not love me back. I can't even imagine what would have to change, in me or it, to make it have a space in it that could fit me.

All of which I was way too scared to admit to at the time, because the more I let people know I was struggling, the more they hinted that maybe I just wasn't in a place in my life where this was a job I could do, and I needed to take a little break and wait to come back until money and disability just weren't issues for me anymore.

Eventually my cups of doubt and exhaustion did overflow, and I quit. I'm here now, living a much different life. And at the very least, all my years of helping people in bad life situations set me up perfectly for my own. I already knew what form to fill out for financial assistance, which student clinics to access for mental health support, and which government agency would, if pressed, cough out pharmacy coverage for the genuinely destitute. It gave me that much.

I hope this is just me being in extraordinary circumstances, sitting at the intersections of a few different shitty life situations that most people skip right past. Because it's on one level comforting, but another deeply infuriating, if I'm not, and I've just missed it or we've just all been too afraid to admit it to each other.

[enyaliuswrites]

➽ Senior!Caleb x fem!reader

Tags: College AU, reader doesn't have to be MC, fluff. From this request

Going on a camping trip with your friends has always been something you’ve saved in the back of your mind and now with your generous college professor organizing this trip you’ve mentally checked it off your mental bucket list.

However, laughing and sharing snacks with your friends near the back of the bus now feels unreal. Especially with a certain senior of yours, just a few seats behind yours, who you keep stealing glances at.

“Whatcha starin’ at?” your friend asked, turning around and seeing the lilac-eyed senior as she turned back with a grin, “Checking out Caleb? I mean who would’ve known Mr. A+ would take the same free elective as us. Totally get you, he’s an absolute feast for the eyes.” 

“Shut up! I wasn't looking!” you hissed, cheeks burning as you glanced around, hoping no one else on the bus had heard her. Desperate to change the subject, you opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, a deep voice cuts in instead.

Looking up at the source of the voice, you see a strikingly handsome male student, casually dressed, gripping the seat tightly as he balances himself on the moving bus.

“I was wondering if-” 

“Hey! It’s dangerous standing here, let’s go back.” Caleb's voice cuts through, commanding and confident. He had appeared so suddenly that it made you flinch and garnered attention from the professor.

“Sit back down, boys. It’s dangerous.” the professor called out as Caleb gave a quick nod. With a firm grip on the student’s shoulder, he pulled him back with a force that left no room for argument. 

“Sorry to bother you, girls.” Caleb added, flashing a smile that made your heart skip a beat as he dragged the student back to his seat.

Stunned, you turned to your friends, who were equally speechless, as you all began talking at once—some giggling, others blushing furiously.

As you and your friends struggled to put your tent together for the nth time that evening a very helpful senior just happened to be in the area (even though this was the designated girl’s tent area) and offered help. In just less than 10 minutes the giant tent was set up flawlessly and your friends rushed in to check what it looked like from the inside.

Turning around to thank Caleb you discovered that he had just vanished into thin air. As you spun on your heels, you finally spotted his tall figure walking away in the distance. Strange. Throughout all of today you must've seen him like a dozen times—of course that’s to be said, you WERE on a trip together, but something was just off with whenever he showed up. 

When you were out of breath from hiking up the mountain, one of your classmates had offered his bottle of water after you had drunk all of yours. You weren't going to accept it, since he had already drank half of it, but Caleb magically appeared and handed you an unopened bottle of water before grabbing the poor guy’s wrist and disappeared into the group.

Or when the same guy on the bus had found a stick and was just about to give it to you. Caleb had also turned up from thin air and given you a studier hiking stick, before pulling the guy away behind some thick trees, leaving you to your friends' relentless teasing.

Or how about when-

“Hey! Helloo? I called your name like 20 times.” You’re met face to face with your friend as you instinctively yank your head back before taking a deep breath and shaking it off. You turn slightly on the sleeping bag, glancing up at the tent as you readjust your pillow.

“Sorry, Sorry. What were you saying?” You apologize as your friend shakes her head and sighs at you. Suddenly you heard a faint rustling noise outside. Flicking your head left and right you start to feel a little paranoid, “Bears?”

“There’s no bears here. Probably a bunny or even the wind. Calm down, the professor assured us that it’s safe.” Your friend’s reassurance calms the rapid thumping of your heart as she starts to rant about assignments and soon you both find yourselves drifting off to sleep. 

Caleb was glad that your friend was an idiot. Well, not an idiot, but not nosy. His lips tugged into a smile as he heard your even soft breathing, the thin nylon being the only wall between you two. Caleb had always had trouble falling asleep, so when he heard shuffling and hushed snickers he almost immediately got up and out of his tent. And he was glad he did.

The three boys that had tried to sneak into your tent were now all battered up, lying on the grass. What a bunch of perverts. There was just no end to these creeps; from the nobody on the bus, the loser who tried to give you water that he had already drank from, the clown who tried to give you such a thin flimsy stick as a hiking stick, to these peeping toms.

“I’m sure you guys aren’t that dumb, so you should know what this means.” He squatted down, grabbing the beaten up boy’s chin, forcing him to look at Caleb's piercing lilac eyes. He nodded frantically, his body shaking as he could only see out of one eye, the other swollen and bruised.

Caleb stood back up, a sigh leaving his lips as he watched the boys chaotically dragged each other away as far as possible, tripping over each other in the process. You were so innocent, pure and kind. Caleb wouldn’t allow for anyone to taint that innocence or to even come near you, especially not low-lives like them. He would take care of you, even if he had to from a distance. Hopefully one day you’ll see how much he loves you.

A/N: Honestly this took be a lot longer than expected. I hope you guys like it!! Please give me more asks/submissions because my mind is blank and the combination of work and assignments are killing me. As always, stay delusional! (*´∀`*)

[theveil-and-thepath]

Mini PAC n°1 - What will happen until the end of the week?

Pile 1 - Pile 2

Pile 3 - Pile 4

You can pick more than one! Just follow your heart!

This is my first time fully using Lenormand cards, let's see how it goes.

*This is a source of entertainment, your destiny is in your hands.*

Pile 1

Wip, star, bouquet, mice, crossroad. Dog, fox, snake. Heart, birds, bear. Birds, garden, snake.

You'll suddenly accomplish something that you greatly desire, but in order for this to happen you'll need to defend your position and status and not let other people bring you down.

This thing you accomplish will have the double effect of solving some of your problems and concerns, and it might make some discontent people who steal your energy leave your life.

You'll interact with several people who are your seniors or more experienced than you. Only one has your true interest at heart, but all three are smart and will teach you new things about how to behave.

You may hear positive gossip about you. Some will say you have more money or are more important than you see yourself.

You may feel, or hear the promise of, the support of a powerful friend.

Keep an eye open in the places you go to this week. You can have fun at a party or event, but some will envy how you look.

Your spiritual protection practices are working, you'll see how you're more resitant to evil eye now.

Pile 2

Anchor, bear, book, heart, cross. Wip, letter, mountain. Coffin, mountain, tower. Snake, wip, ring.

Some of you will meet the love of your life, your counterpart. Maybe it's a new friend. Regardless, it's a fated encounter with someone who's as or more mature than you, stable in life, very smart/went to a good school, this person knows when to shut up and when to talk; try not to get a wrong first impression of them because theyll like you more than they'll convey. Your guides are planning your encounter.

You may start to study something new that you've been meaning to for a while.You may have an insight or receive a tarot reading (can be on youtube) that will help explain your recent love problems.

If you think of an ex this week, it's so that you see it all in a new light and move on, or to remind you how to avoid the same undesired result.

You may receive an email postponing an event or listing extra requirements you need to meet to accomplish a goal of yours.

You need to rest and sleep well before a big day.

Beware of double faced people offering you things too good to be true, perhaps they want you close to them so they can ruin your life more easily.

Be smart against those who are cunning and trying to get rid of you because they see you as competition.

Pile 3

Man, book, rider, lily, woman. Fox, anchor, child. Dog, bear, tree. Tower, heart, anchor.

A relationship you already have may progress this week and this person may reveal positive feelings that they've kept hidden. You may feel that one of your connections originated in past lives.

A good week for school and learning.

To start a new venture, you need to be smart not work hard. You may take a significant step to solidify a new project of yours.

You have great friends and family. This week you'll express your gratitude to the universe for having them. You may even receive help from old friends.

Old relationships become stronger.

This week you'll see how much support you have around you, you'll also be proud of how far you've come and how solid it's the life you've built.

Pile 4

Letter,sun, heart,bouquet, scythe. Tree, mice, wip. Anchor, sun,bouquet. Key, woman,clover.

What a bright and blessed week of reaping your rewards. Someone will compliment your work, give you amazing feedback, may say they want to keep in touch for future endeavors or ask for your number so they can call you on a date.

All the good things you desire? This week you can be so close to them it's just up to you to pick it up and take it for your life.

You receive the yes, the answer you wanted to get.

Your crush will text you, or your partner may ask you out.

If you're in a relationship, texting can turn into sexting, or you'll receive a kiss or offer for a sexy night out of a sudden.

You'll get rid of energy vampires or bad habits that have been draining your energy and slowing you down.

You'll cut off junk food or reject a specific food or drink for the sake of your health.

You may go to the doctor or start a health treatment.

This week feels so good, that some of you will get married or become engaged. May start dating too.

You'll feel your spirit guides close and showing you good things about your future.

You reach the jackpot. Somehow you'll know what you'll have to do so you level up big time.

You may receive the opportunity of a lifetime. Big thing!!! Receive it.

You're so smart and capable that people can't help but admire you.

This week you'll know that you can do it!

[genderkoolaid]

As a strident critic of efforts to silence the movement for justice in Palestine in this way, I expected to encounter opposing perspectives. The conference’s many sponsors included the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) and the Academic Engagement Network (AEN), two organizations at the forefront of such weaponized attacks on college campuses. Fellow speakers included operatives like Kenneth Marcus, who has helped shape the campus crusade for over two decades, including within the Department of Education during the first Trump administration. While I didn’t expect to change their minds, I felt it was important to add my voice to this contested space as a Senior Research Analyst at Political Research Associates and co-author of Safety through Solidarity: A Radical Guide to Fighting Antisemitism. I took my place alongside plenty of other experts resolutely opposed to the heavy-handed tactics of the pro-Israel Right and Center. A week after returning from LA, I opened my inbox to discover emails with blaring subject lines from Jewish Insider: “UCLA hosts anti-Zionists at conference on antisemitism,” and one day later, “ADL Alters Conference Sponsorship Policy After Anti-Israel Speakers Exposed.” The two articles listed me as one of three participants whose presentations or mere presence at the conference had crossed a line; in my case, because some years ago I worked as campus coordinator for Jewish Voice for Peace. [...]

The author also published their words at the conference. The whole thing is worth reading but here are some highlights:

Our approach at Political Research Associates, and in Safety through Solidarity, understands antisemitism as an anti-democratic political project that uses conspiracy theories to explain the world through an appeal to supposed Jewish wickedness, subversion, and control. The conspiracy theory of the elite Jewish cabal is a projected image of power, used by authoritarian and nationalist leaders to divert widespread anger, alienation, malaise, and anomie away from the actual sources of social immiseration, and towards an imaginary, diabolic enemy instead. Antisemitic conspiracy theories offer stunted attempts to make sense of the world, easy answers to deeply felt crises of political agency. They can be seductive and appealing, lending purpose, resolve, and hope in place of helplessness. In times of widespread social dislocation, when millions are grasping for answers and eager for someone to blame, authoritarians use antisemitism to sow division and consolidate power, build momentum and expand their coalition by demonizing elite cabals as ciphers for progressivism, as all-powerful threats to tradition, order, and the “common man.” Today antisemitism is a core component of a broader project to entrench authoritarian rule; to sweep away decades of civil rights advances in a wave of white racial backlash; to restructure the national polity and civic life around the contours of white and Christian dominance. Elon Musk and Steve Bannon are normalizing Nazi salutes; leading MAGA podcasters are platforming Holocaust revisionism and lurid tales of Israeli pedophile cabals to audiences of millions; top administration officials are sharing Leo Frank conspiracy theories and statements from the leaders of groups that marched at Charlottesville. [...]

Antisemitism does show up on the Left, but it structures the Right; it weakens the Left, but it strengthens the Right; it diverts the Left from its goals of freedom and equality, but it helps the Right pursue its goals of exclusion and domination. Elon Musk, the richest person on the planet who’s actively dismantling the federal government, holds immeasurably more power than any undergraduate or college professor. It’s clear where the greater long term, foundational threat to Jewish safety and thriving lies. Tracing the intersection of antisemitism with other forms of oppression gives Jews a stake in standing with Others, and Others a stake in standing with Jews. It grounds the particular fight against antisemitism in a universal project. This means that promoting a robust democracy, and working to end economic and social inequality are important means of fighting antisemitism at its root, by chipping away at the structural dispossession, desperation, and alienation that motivates people to grasp for conspiracy theories and scapegoats. This means that ending antisemitism is everyone’s business, not only out of moral concern for Jews but also because it’s essential to building a more just world for everyone. [...]

These campaigns also fail at actually fighting the real antisemitism that can exist among some pro-Palestine activism. Anti-Zionism isn’t inherently antisemitic; quite the contrary, it’s often motivated by values of justice and equity. The accusation is spurious and flimsy at best, cynical and malicious at worst. But some forms of anti-Zionism can mobilize antisemitism, knowingly or not, when fantastical portrayals of outsized, shadowy “Zionist” power take the place of grounded criticism of Israel’s injustices, or concrete assessment of the actual political influence wielded by the state or its supporters. In a few highly-publicized instances, Palestine solidarity protesters have appeared to indiscriminately target Jewish individuals or institutions to express generalized rage at Israel; subject Jews to political litmus tests; or couch anti-Zionism in the mold of Christian anti-Jewish demonology, for example. Other times, protesters have lapsed into vulgar campism by uncritically cheering on Islamist nationalist movements as vanguards of liberatory resistance, or by mobilizing oversimplistic binaries that caricature all Israelis, Zionists, or Jews as monolithic oppressors. In some of these cases, the antisemitism is clear-cut; other times, what we’re seeing may be a reductive, callous and counterproductive brand of ultraradicalism; understanding this as inherently antisemitic tends to obscure, rather than clarify, the political dynamics at play. Initiatives like the JDA and Nexus can help offer the kind of rigorous, contextual evaluation we need to parse these distinctions. Lost in the din of media hysteria and overzealous lawfare is precisely this capacity to think critically in public. It is possible to have open, honest and tough conversations about antisemitism within the Palestine solidarity movement, which is one goal of our book. But the indiscriminate, authoritarian crackdown makes this incredibly harder, fostering a siege mentality among its targets, provoking activists to double down and bristle with defensiveness and distrust.

[hedwig221b]

Hey wiggly hed, perchance does anyone know of fics where Stiles has sleeping issues? Such as insomnia because we know he does but I'd also love more with him sleepwalking, talking, and just fics where Derek is like struggling to or having to make a point to take precautions so his baby doesn't walk right out the door or he has full on conversations with a babbling asleep Stiles because of course Stiles doesn't even shut up in his sleep.

Hellooo! Tried to feature a few fics for every trope, here's what I got

Say Something

That first time Stiles decided it was probably wise to let sleeping werewolves lie.

Step into the daylight (and let it go) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)

Stiles is a grad student with serious insomnia. So when he sees a stranger in need of help, he thinks it’ll be a good way to alleviate the boredom. How the hell was he supposed to know that the weird guy with the baseball cap was a famous actor (and a fucking werewolf)? He just keeps running into the guy. Coincidence? Stiles thinks not.

Yes To Heaven

Stiles ruined him. The damage was irreparable. He didn’t want the food that wasn’t made by Stiles or shared with him; the water tasted stale; the clothes were asphyxiating and scratchy; the air was wrong, wrong without Stiles’ scent in it. Fuck, what was wrong with him? How could that pretty little thing change him so much? He had an iron grip on his control before, being in tandem with his instincts, but within weeks, all of it was gone. As soon as he thought of Stiles, though, of his scent, his moans, and the little wrinkle on his forehead as he orgasmed, his mind settled. What was life before Stiles? Everything was somewhere far, far away, forgotten, bleak, and meaningless. Derek thought he knew what light was as he looked at the microscopic dots of the stars above. Then Stiles came into his life and showed him the sun.

falling for the weirdo by wazzzup

Basically, I felt that Stiles' ADHD was used as a source for jokes and I wanted a fanfic that was a more accurate representation of a neurodivergent person. (written by someone with ADHD as well as a few other disorders) Story: Derek stays with Stiles when the alpha pack is in town to protect the pack human, but also because he thinks Stiles is lying to them about something cause the teen acts super distant around them. Stiles is freaking out because he's going to be living with Derek and be around the man all the time and can't mask his 'weird' behaviors and many disorders that he's managed to keep secret from the pack.

Little Devil Inside by sarahhhelpme

Even now, the Nogitsune feels like a part of him. It left behind something dark and twisted and angry. He is not the same person he was before.

One Hundred Miles an Hour in Reverse by suburbanmotel

Stiles understands that leaving is hard. He understands because Stiles always understands. Leaving is hard, got it. Check. But late at night, alone in the dark in the quiet with the shadows, alone with his thoughts and his shallow, slightly panicked breathing, he also understands that it’s always harder for the people left behind. -- Five years after everything, after everyone is gone, Stiles remains, because someone has to, right? He’s become good at staying, at being ok with staying, because he’s good at what he does and so many people need him here. So, he’s stayed and he does what he’s always done best: he figures things out. He figures things out and he makes lists, lists of spells, lists of magical herbs, lists of people who have left. He also makes lists about himself. Stiles is: the fixer, the writer, the librarian, the keeper of words and memories in Beacon Hills. He’s a healer, a helper and he remembers. He remembers everything.

Sleeping Next To You Is Like Magic by LadyDrace

Stiles and Derek meet the summer before senior year. Stiles can't sleep, Derek helps with that, and there's a lot less cuddling and a lot more emotional crises than you'd think. Or: Stiles' feelings happen so much, and learning how to deal with them takes him a little while. Good thing Derek is happy to wait.

Cosomination by zoemathemata

For Fictional Force/Hoktauri who prompted “pining! Derek/oblivious! Stiles, graduation day” Cosominate - To sleep together in the same bed or similar space. Five Times Derek and Stiles Sleep Together - 4 platonic bed shares and one not-platonic bed share! Features Pining! Derek, Oblivious!Stiles and a very tense moment where Sheriff Stilinski has been hurt! But it all turns out okay.

I won't sleep if you won't sleep by dragon_temeraire

After the nogitsune, Stiles is unable to sleep. To help, he has a spell cast on him that will link him with Derek.

The Taste You Leave Behind in My Mouth by monopolizeme

Derek looks over at Stiles, who hasn't moved from the bottom step. He’s watching Derek and Scott, shadows wane and ugly beneath dull eyes that no longer shine as they used to when looking at Derek - out of irritation or goading or open honesty - and Derek doesn't quite know what to do. Because he almost expected Stiles to be the one up here on the wooden porch with him, maybe punching at his arm and grinning because although they hadn't really spoken about what they were, Derek thought, he thought that out of everyone in Beacon Hills, that Stiles would be the one to show any emotion at having him back.

My, What Big Shoulders You Have (The Better to Help You Carry the Weight) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

"Talia was just telling me an interesting story,” his dad informed him. Stiles didn’t have the nerve to glance over at him, because he knew no matter how much he argued, the proof was all there. The wolves had found him, Parrish had picked him up on the side of the road, he had a fucking picture on his phone. He was screwed. No point in arguing, all it’d do is piss his father off even more. “You don’t say,” Stiles offered slowly. “What uh—you know, I like stories. Is it a uh, good one?” “It seems to be a matter of opinion,” Talia said with another kind smile. “I hear you had quite the night last night.” Okay, time to cut his losses. He was already fucked, all he could do was apologize and hope she didn’t press for him to get fined and arrested. Given he was her husband’s friend’s son, he had high hopes. “I’m really sorry,” Stiles blurted out. “It was stupid and-and irresponsible and just—I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have crossed into your territory. I should’ve known better, I do know better! It was a complete lapse in judgement and I am just—I am so sorry.”

between the click of the light and the start of the dream by thepsychicclam

A twig snaps, and then Stiles hears breathing and the rustle of leaves. He strains to get a better glimpse into the darkness, but it’s pointless. There’s nothing but a black void. It's Stiles' senior year, and he's trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he's being haunted by a hag. Great.

The Price we Pay by Gia279

Twelve years after inadvertently stopping Kate Argent from burning the Hale pack alive, Stiles is sleepwalking again, dragged unwillingly to witness horrible accidents, floods, house fires, and other disasters. He wakes, confused and blindfolded, at the incidents with power rising sharp and exhilarating in his chest, and he doesn't know how to stop it. Is he the one causing these horrible things or is he just there to witness them? Derek has been curious about the magic that saved him and his pack for years, and when Stiles's powers manifest again, he's determined to figure it out. With the whole of Beacon Hills being thrown into chaos and Stiles, apparently, just on the edge of that chaos, Derek finds himself being drawn to fix it all and keep Stiles out of the danger that keeps calling to him.

Between Sleeping and Awake by bloodwrites

Derek witnesses Stiles talking in his sleep, and it gives him the impetus to act on thoughts he's been having for months.

you need to hear it in Latin? by fairydustedtheory

Stiles talks in his sleep and Derek needs to know what he's saying.

[masterlist link]

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[sayruq]

The officials added Gallant told Austin he is coming with a list of specific weapon system requests. A senior Israeli official said the requests will not only include short-term requests for the war in Gaza but also long-term ones, including the option to purchase more F-35 and F-15 fighter jets. Israel wants to have the supply of the jets and other weapon systems expedited as much as possible, the Israeli official said. Gallant told Austin he is bringing with him the director-general of the Ministry of Defense, retired Major General Eyal Zamir, who is in charge of Israel's weapons purchases. Gallant stressed he wants senior Pentagon officials to meet Zamir on the sidelines of the visit to discuss the technical details for Israel's defense requests, the source said. Israeli officials say they are concerned about the pace of U.S. weapons shipments and that the Pentagon could slow-walk their delivery as Biden faces mounting scrutiny over weapons supplies to Israel. A U.S. official said there is no slow-walking and added Austin will tell Gallant that the pace of weapons supply is connected to available U.S. supply and the need for Congress to approve supplemental funding.

[dissolvedprincess]

For you

✷ A yearning reader that is eager to please nonchalant Josh. ✷

PART 1 of the ‘Party 4 U’ mini series.

(not proofread)

⭑ PART 1 PART 2

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶

“Babe, literally everyone is coming, well..most of the freshmen anyway and some seniors.” you said, while casually typing away on your phone to send out more invites. “Even Chriiiiiisss.” you look at Ashley and wiggled your brows, her cheeks blush at the sound of his name.

“Ugh fine.”

“Great! It’s gonna be SO fun, babe!” you squealed excitedly, wrapping your arms around her.

“And I’m not going just because Chris is gonna be there okay…I just haven’t partied in a while, that’s all.” she says with false confidence, but you can clearly see a shy smile start to form on her face.

“Yeah yeah sure Ash, veeeery convincing. I’ll text you my address later okay, see you tonight.” You blew her a kiss and finally parted ways.

You felt giddy with excitement as you walked through the halls of your campus. The phone in your hand buzzed with a text from Sam, ‘I’ll be there!!❤️’ and you smiled at the message, just the thought of her attending was enough to soothe your nerves, just a little bit at least.

This party would be the most important party of your life. You were being dramatic, but valid. You’d do anything to please the source of your anxiety. His name placed last on the list with big, bold letters, impossible to miss.

‘JOSH’

“Shit.” you muttered to yourself.

You still went back and forth on wether you should talk to him face to face or just text him. ‘I mean, i could always ask Chris for his number’ you thought to yourself. But it seems like you’ve made up your mind. The idea of having his full attention, even if it’s just for a fleeting moment, would be enough to momentarily satisfy your urges.

You felt like a little girl with her first crush again. A little girl experiencing foreign and overwhelming emotions, it was embarassing.

The sight of him from your peripheral, pulled you from your thoughts. The outline of his build deeply embedded in your brain from months of wishful staring.

He looked to be deep in thought. Your eyes trailed down to his hands that were frantically writing into his notebook, clearly busy. But you decided to throw caution to the wind when he stuck his pencil inbetween his teeth and started biting on it.

The action triggered something in you, a juvenile desire that felt so intense. You wanted his mouth elsewhere, everywhere, leaving marks on your body.

As if on cue, the wind blew your way. Slightly pushing you to start walking towards him, leaving you with goosebumps all over. It felt like even nature has a hand in this. Wouldn’t that be so romantic?

“Hi Josh.”

The butterflies in you ribcage threatend to burst out the moment he looked up at you.

“Hey. What’s up?” he responded casually with a lazy smile. He still looked so handsome despite the tired bags under his eyes.

You never really got to know him properly throughout college, occasional helos and mutual friends was all that you had. He was a difficult person to get close to with all the constant people around him.

“Um, I don’t know if you’ve heard but i’ll be throwing a party at my house. Tonight.” you stated nervously; words stuttering a bit as he stood up to match you. Now it was your turn to look up.

“Oh yeah, i think Chris told me. Don’t know if i’m invited though.” he teased with a small laugh. His eyes crinkling beautifully.

“You are!” you responded, a little bit too fast for your own liking. His presence was…difficult to adjust to, and the cologne he’s wearing wasn’t helping either.

“Haha alright! That’s awesome.” His reply was short and minimal.

You scrambled for a response, it was pathetic; the kind of hold he had on you.

“So can you make it?” you asked expectantly.

He looked away for a moment and chewed on his bottom lip; contemplating. You wished to be inside his head for a while and watch those gears turn. What is he going to say next? Will he be too busy to come? Is he feeling under the weather? Does he have a date to go to? ‘Please don’t let it be a date, please, please.’ you plead to an invisible force.

The next thing he does is unexpected.

Your phone is suddenly plucked away from your hand. You didn’t miss the way your heart throbbed at the feeling of his fingers brushing against yours. The spring air suddenly felt too cool for your heated cheeks.

You would find the action strange and ill-mannered if it was somebody else. But this was Josh and you’d let him do anything to you. It was risky, being this close to him.

He types for a while and handed the phone back to you. The final contact of his fingers sent shivers down your back.

“I put in my number so you can text me your address. I’ll be there.” he assured you.

It took everything in you not to let your mouth gape.

“O-okay Josh. I’ll..see you soon.” you replied pathetically.

He sat down on his previous spot and looked up at you again. You’ve decided that he looks good under you, flashes of you him going down on you come and fade away as he said, “See you soon pretty girl.” and then that sweet smile is back again, with a little hint of sly this time if you look closely enough.

Then you walked away whilst looking at his name on your contact list, still in a daze. The urge to turn your head got the better of you, expecting him to be looking at you still. But you were left disappointed to see he was already back to his previous task.

The drive home was ridiculous to say the least, you forehead meets your steering wheel any chance you get; with an added groan of frustration of course. You felt lame. How could you mess up your first proper interaction with Josh that badly?

You slammed your car door once you arrived, a bit of added force would help blow off some steam you thought.

Your shoulders relaxed the moment you walked in through your door. It’s good to have the house to yourself for a while.

After making sure the house and drinks are up to par, you sat down to scroll through your unread texts. Quickly responding to your mom’s text, ‘Have fun tonight sweetie. Don’t break anything and good luck with Josh, be safe ;)’ Your cheeks warmed at her text and let out a scoff. ‘Thanks mom❤️ and ew, don’t say that😭. But i will ;)’

You dazed off for a while and decided to call Chris.

“Yeeee-llow.”

“Hey Chris.”

“Heyyyyy. What’s up?”

You played with the loose seam of your pants and mulled over the question on the tip of your tongue. Fuck it.

“Can you like, send me Josh’s favorite playlist?”

He paused for a moment and laughed.

“I mean-yeah, i can. What you need it for?”

You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I’ve just uh- been asking for some of you guys’ playlists for tonight. Y’know-so that um-you could enjoy the party better?” you let out nervously.

“You haven’t asked me for mine.” he was full on teasing now, you just know it.

“Well i was gonna! I was gonna ask for it after you gave me his.” you scrambled to save the situation.

“Sure suuuree okay of course you were.” he let out a chuckle.

You found it funny how you were in a similar situation that Ashley was in.

You let out a groan, “Ugh just…don’t tell Josh about this okay, or anyone for that matter.”

“Yeah okay okay. I just sent you a couple of Josh’s AND one of mine, you’re welcome.” It felt nice to have a friend like him to depend on.

“Thanks Chris. See you tonight.”

“Catch yaa laaaaterrrr.” then the line clicked shut.

You then melted on the couch, leg bouncing with nerves.

“Oh fuck..” you rubbed at your eyes for some relief from the headache that was starting to form.

—

“Oh fuck…” you rubbed at your eyes again to stop the tears from flowing.

You appreciated the presence of Ash and Sam on either side of you. Each of their hands rubbing gentle circles on your back. The party has been going on for a good two hours and still no sign of Josh.

“I just..ugh-feel so fucking pathetic for even hoping y’know. At least text me to let me know that he wouldn’t come. He didn’t even reply to the last one when i sent him my address.” More tears threaten to pour as you rambled on.

“I understand hun.” Sam smiled at you sympathetically.

“And no, it’s not pathetic.” Ashley chimed in. You looked her way and smiled the best that you can.

“I mean-you know how i am with Chris. So…” she paused for a second, finding the right words to say. “I get it, more than anyone.”

Sam nodded and laughed, “It’s totally normal! And he’s horrible for doing this anyway so..one less guy to worry about.”

“Yeah..yeah you guys are right.”

You felt Sam grab your hand, “How about getting back out there, huh?”

“Alright, come on guys.”

After the three of you left the comfort of your bedroom, you felt light. It’s good to not have his constant weight on your mind. Sadness is a given but with it comes relief.

“I’m just gonna get another drink okay, you guys go on without me.”

You smiled after waving them goodbye. It’s exciting to see how the night could promise you so many more opportunities when Josh is no longer your fixation. All you have to do, is just choose.

Well, good luck with that.

“Hey pretty.”

You’d recognize that voice anywhere, warm and inviting.

It’s horrible, how easily he pulled you back in.

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶

I apologize for being late my sweets! I wasn’t satisfied with the previous version and decided to revise some parts of the story. The whole thing also unexpectedly turned into a three part mini-series and the last two will be inspired by Charli XCX songs as well because they fit the narrative so well, i am so excited!

I also apologize for the lack of Josh in this one but he will be a very prominent part in the last two, so no worries.😙

I hope you enjoyed and yes part two is already in the works ;)

[ch-4-eri]

Different — Abby Anderson.

Abby X female!reader.

Warnings: comphet, anger issues, owen jumpscare (sorry) shouting, arguing, angst.

Word count: 1.2k

This fic is lowkey trauma dumping, self projection as it’s finest but hey we’ve all been there, also excuse how short it is I’m still learning how to write all over again after leaving it for a hot minute, but please do enjoy this.

You miss her. You really do, you had no other idea as to what made you and Abby’s friendship seem like it was something you’d made in the back of your mind.

Which is stupid considering everything, you knew the source of the problem, how deep he rooted his claws into her, Owen fucking Moore.

He was a senior at some point before he met Abby at a game you both went to. Soon enough he graduated which meant you’d never see Abby after school and or even the entire day as they got together. It dragged on until you noticed how moody she got, more angry than usual and you always knew Abby had temper problems.

You’d see them right outside of school, and he’d just leave her there, and you couldn’t interfere at all— you thought Abby wouldn’t like that, wouldn’t accept help in such situations.. and you were rather drifting, you’d let her figure it out on her own.

You just wondered if she misses you as well? And was Owen really worth it? Forget friendship… Abby was doing horribly in almost everything she used to like to do, her quarterback duties? Yeah, she was often arguing with her team, constantly throwing tantrums after or before games when there’s crowds watching it and the scene’s too awkward. People leave earlier than usual and it’s always intense if the argument is before the game. Even argues with the cheerleaders and their choreography as it’s not something she can pick, only the cheer coach. Abby was disturbed in many aspects, and all you could do was blame Owen.

You also wondered if it’s also Owen or something else? Was he treating her right? You doubt it, putting in mind how much she seems so temper ridden towards everything.

It was a random night you so badly wanted to check up on her, maybe hang out with her like you used to, it was all so awkward and you had no idea how else to resolve such already fucked up friendship.

You pulled up to her door with your bike, the sound of her and Owen arguing was loud enough you could hear what they were arguing about, Abby’s voice too familiar to just get over.

As you made your way out of your bike and to the front door, it slammed open with a very angry Owen stomping out, making you glare at him as he matched your glare and walked away.

Your eyes rolled and walked inside, finding Abby leaning against the counter. Still heaving in anger as she saw you; not even saying anything as you closed the door he almost broke.

“What was that?” You first said, forget the i miss yous and the corny bullshit that used to be okay between you two.

“What was what?” Abby responded, her tone cold and just as pissed off as if she’s still talking to Owen.

“Why was he yelling at you? That’s not okay.” You added, crossing your arms, keeping your voice steady. You’re not here to fight, that was Abby. Your Abby.

Abby narrowed her eyes as she’s surprised to find you there, her disturbance erupts from many things and not being able to talk to you was one of them.

She knew she fucked up when she picked Owen over you, it wasn’t even a decision she made; she just woke up one day without you around, and just him there.

She didn’t like it.

She hated it in fact.

Abby knew Owen was not a soulmate.

But the realisation of losing you for him, that stung more, made her more angry and defensive.

She was too prideful to admit what she did was wrong, be with such a guy and then lose you slowly.

Every time she recalls how good you’d treat her over stuff Owen made her feel bad about it was a damn list she had in the back of her mind every time he said something she didn’t like in which you’d be so sweet about.

Like her working out habits and how she looks, you’d encourage her and ask to come with her to the gym, Owen would just make fun of her for not looking feminine enough.

You’d take care of her when she’s sick never leaving her side enough you’d also get sick and Abby would take care of you when she’s better, Owen would just ignore her texts all day because she’s too sick in bed apparently and she’s ’too big of a girl’ she can ‘handle’ it on her own.

How you made her feel good about herself for having a ‘strong best friend’ and how proud you were of her, while Owen was too insecure to ever say something kind about it, insecure how a girl looks like she could ‘toss him away with a flick’.

The minute she had to compare the two of you, it made her feel more agony than she liked to admit even between her and herself.

As you stood in front of her after such a long time she still knew that she should be sorry, hug you and act like nothing happened.

But she couldn’t; so much had happened, she knew she shouldn’t have let you go, not for Owen or anyone because knowing he was not her soulmate, you were.

You were just right, Abby was always so certain of that, no matter who she lost or who she had, you’d be there and she let go of that like it’s nothing and she can’t mend that now, she felt too unworthy of your friendship.

It can’t be fixed.

“So what? I was yelling at him too, stop with that feminist bullshit.” Abby cursed, rolling her eyes at your defence, she loved you for it; she needed it, but she had to push you away for how wrong she did you.

“It’s not feminist bullshit, Abby, he's treating you like dirt!” You argued, showing her what’s right in hopes she’d see it.

“It’s none of your business! You don’t even have a boyfriend, you don’t get it!”

“Oh low blow! The whole ‘I don’t have a boyfriend’ bullshit just so you don’t admit he sucks and he doesn’t treat you well and he’s too fucking old for you, I don’t know what the fuck is going on Abby but this isn’t you! Hanging out with jerks like him, we used to make fun of guys like him!” You argued, eyebrows furrowed that made Abby wanna go on her knees for your forgiveness, you were right.

She wanted to cry about how wrong she’d been, she wants you back, she wants to just end this and apologise but she did you too wrong to act like this is okay.

“Shut up, get out of here!” Was all Abby managed, she wanted to save you for any more insults that could leave her mouth right at this second, there’s so much she needed to fix but you had to leave right now.

You blinked a few times at her request, Abby never raised her voice at you and maybe she didn’t mean it, but it hurt so much, she could see it as well.

“Don’t come crying to me when he’s left you, and let’s be real he will. And he will find a girl his age or maybe a girl that wears stupid bow ties in her hair because let’s face it he’s a fucking weirdo and you fell for it.” You said as a tear sheds down your cheek. “He wants to change you, and he can’t, I don’t even recognize you anymore… you won’t find me there when he does.” Was all you muttered before breaking down completely at the loss you just have to endure, leaving her house and leaving her there.

[ambrossart]

Out of the Loop

summary: eddie went home with someone after prom, and gareth is determined to figure out who it was.

pairing: eddie munson x dwm!reader word count: 11k warnings: language, new relationship, eddie's girlfriend is gareth's arch nemesis, silly childhood rivalries, eddie being happy and stupidly in love, jason being an overprotective ass, chrissy being an adorable little cupcake, the reader is chrissy's best friend, the unnamed freak is named grant in this series

series masterpost | series playlist | fanfiction masterlist

On Monday morning, Gareth peddled to school like a man on a mission.

Nothing was getting in his way today, not his mother, who had accidentally washed his Hellfire Club shirt with all his little sister’s dance clothes,

“You know what, honey, I think it looks better this way…”

not his sister, who had been hogging the bathroom all morning because she couldn’t get her hair right,

“Look, you don’t understand the pressure I’m under right now. Becca Singer is finalizing her birthday party guest list today. I have to look my best if I wanna make the cut.”

not the weatherman, who was painfully misinformed when he called for clear, sunny skies today…

and certainly not the piece of crap Chevy that just cut him off in the middle of the crosswalk.

Gareth swerved out of the way and kept on pedaling. The rain pelted his face in a spray of ice-cold bullets.

Behind him, the driver yelled, “Hey, watch where you’re going, you little shit!”  

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Because Gareth was sitting on a goldmine of information right now. It was truly the scoop of the century. Eddie Munson—that’s right, Eddie “the Freak” Munson—had gone home with somebody after the senior prom.

Who was this mysterious (not to mention incredibly lucky) woman? A curious cheerleader desperate to defy her clique? A rich girl trying to piss off her dad? A shy bookworm who wanted to act out the plot of her favorite romance novel? Who? Who? Gareth’s head was spinning! The question hungrily devoured the rest of his weekend (something Gareth wasn’t too proud to admit, of course, but hey, Sundays were always uneventful days for him). He had to get to school quickly and consult his most trusted sources.

He found Jeff and Grant sitting at their usual table in the cafeteria. Grant was eating the school’s hot breakfast while Jeff sat with his head in his hands, lamenting the sorry state of his love life.

“Tara’s still not talking to me. I’m pretty sure she’s gonna dump me for Patrick McKinney.”

Grant put down his fork. “Wait, you two were dating?”

“No…” Jeff heaved a quiet sigh. “But if we were, she’d definitely dump me for Patrick.”

Grant frowned, sympathetic yet envious of his friend’s plight. “Man, I wish Meg would stop talking to me. She had me on the phone all night yesterday. I think she wants me to be her boyfriend or something.” Grant cringed at the thought. He didn’t have the strength to put up with her. He’d barely survived prom. 

“You don’t like her?” Jeff asked.

“Not really,” Grant answered. “I mean, yeah, she’s pretty and all, but as soon as she starts talking—”

Gareth slammed a wrinkled piece of notebook paper onto the table. The loud bang echoed through the entire cafeteria, making a few students gasp and flinch in their chairs. Jeff and Grant didn’t move in the slightest. This was typical Monday morning behavior for Gareth.

“What’s with the pink shirt?” Grant asked, unfazed. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Gareth said. They had more pressing matters to discuss. He sat down and folded his hands in front of him, his blue eyes clear and focused. He wasted no time getting straight to the point: “Who’d Eddie go home with after prom?”

Jeff and Grant exchanged a subtle, secret glance.

“How do you know Eddie went home with someone after prom?” Jeff asked.

“Because I called him that night.”

“Why’d you call him?”

“Because I’m a good friend, unlike some people.” Nobody had called him asking how his night went. Gareth sat home alone on Saturday night, eating popcorn and watching old sci-fi movies in his basement, while the rest of his friends had a blast at prom. It wasn’t fair. “I wanted to check in on him because I figured he might be a little depressed after getting rejected by Chrissy. Because let’s be honest here, there was no way that Chrissy was ever gonna dance with him. You all agree with me, right? I’m not just being a dick here. Like, yeah, I know Eddie’s riding high right now because he thinks this year is his year and everything, but… yeah, he was aiming a bit too high with that goal.” 

“Can you get to the point, please?” Grant said. “My breakfast is getting cold.” 

“Well, multitask, man!” Gareth grabbed Grant’s fork and threw it back onto his tray. “What, you can’t listen and eat at the same time?”

Grant rolled his eyes and went back to his breakfast. Gareth carried on with his story:

“So anyway, when I called him on Saturday, I expected him to sound all mopey and depressed, but he wasn’t. Yeah, Eddie wasn’t depressed at all. In fact, he sounded oddly… happy, but also a little bit distracted. You guys see where I’m going with this, right?”

“I hate that I do,” Grant said, struggling to enjoy his food.

“Well, that’s when I started getting suspicious. See, I could tell I didn’t have his full attention, and that’s just so unlike Eddie because he’s normally really good at maintaining proper phone etiquette. Weird, right? So then I got curious and I started listening, and… and I can’t be sure, but I think I heard a girl talking in the background.”

“Maybe it was just the TV,” Grant said.

Gareth shook his head. “No way… I know the difference between a TV voice and a live human voice. Someone was definitely with him.”

“Well, did you recognize the voice?” Jeff asked.

“No, I couldn’t hear well enough.”

Grant’s eyes narrowed. “And yet you’re sure it wasn’t the TV…”

“Oh come on, it wasn’t the TV, you guys. Wake up and smell the coffee! Eddie brought a girl to his house. He brought a girl to his house. She was with him in the room while he was on the phone with me. I could hear her talking. Then Eddie started acting really weird, said he had to go, and rushed me off the phone.”

“Gross,” Grant muttered, sickened. “Yeah, these are details I did not need.” 

Gareth’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp. “Wait, do you guys think he slept with her?” and that was more than Jeff could handle.

He buried his face in his hands and said, “Please stop. I don’t wanna go to class with these images in my head.”

Grant shrugged. “Maybe it was just a one-night stand.”

Jeff threw him a sharp, side-eyed glare. 

“Just saying,” Grant finished, smirking.

“No, I seriously doubt it,” Gareth went on, completely unaware. “Eddie’s not really a one-night stand kinda guy… not by choice, anyway. No, I think this might be the real deal, you guys, ‘cause listen to this: I went to go see him yesterday. Eddie wasn’t home.”

“So?”

“So I think he was with her. I called him last night and asked him where he was all day. He said he was out running errands.” Gareth scrunched up his face at that, doubtful. “Since when does Eddie run errands? So I said, ‘What sort of errands were you running?’ He said he had to swing by the drugstore. I said, ‘Well, what did you need at the drugstore?’ but he wouldn’t answer that. Yeah, he was being awfully mum.”

“Mum?” Jeff repeated to himself, mystified by his friend’s bizarre word choice.

Grant said, “He was probably annoyed that you were digging around in his business. I know I would be.”

“Oh yeah, he was definitely getting annoyed,” Gareth said. “Then he cut the conversation short and told me he was stepping out for the night. That’s when I knew this was serious. Eddie doesn’t just ‘step out’ on a Sunday night. He hardly goes out any night. If he’s not with us, he’s sitting at home and playing songs on his guitar. Yeah, he was definitely with her last night.”

Grant sighed, hoping they’d finally reached the end of this long-winded story. “Well, I guess you cracked the case then, Gareth.”

“But that’s just it, I haven’t!” Gareth said. Grant let out an exhausted moan. “I still don’t know who this girl is. You guys swear you didn’t see Eddie go home with anybody after prom?”

Another secret glance.

“Nope,” Jeff said. “I didn’t see him go home with anyone that night.”

Gareth nodded, disappointed but not yet defeated. “Yeah, I thought you might say that. That’s why I made this.”

He gestured toward the piece of paper on the table. Jeff picked it up and read it over. Then he passed it to Grant so he could do the same.

“Okay, what exactly am I looking at here?” Grant asked.

“It’s a list of suspects,” Gareth said, a proud smile on his face. “Yeah, last night I compiled a list of every girl I’ve ever seen Eddie interact with at school, and then this morning I whittled that list down to what I think are the most likely suspects.”

“Not a very long list,” Jeff said.

“Really?” said Grant. “I was gonna say it’s too long.” 

They shared a little chuckle over that. Gareth glowered at them, unamused. He didn’t appreciate them making little jabs about their Dungeon Master’s love life, stagnant as it was.

“You know,” Grant began with ominous deliberation, “I can’t help but notice there’s a name missing from this list.”

Gareth's head snapped back in surprise. “Who?”

“You know who,” Grant said. Beside him, Jeff was holding in a grin.

A disturbing chill crept up Gareth's spine. Then—

BAM!

Your name cracked down from above like a fiendish lightning bolt, striking Gareth and making all the little hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. For a second, he could see your name so clearly. It loomed before him, ugly and terrible, festering with pus and crawling with maggots, getting pecked savagely by vultures and other scavengers. It made him retch with disgust.

“Oh, very funny…”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Grant said, “there’s no denying that she’s a likely suspect.” 

“In fact,” Jeff continued, “some might say she’s the most likely suspect.” 

“Yeah, maybe back in middle school,” Gareth said, “but Eddie hasn’t so much as looked at her in years.”

Except for that one time, he thought, remembering the mournful look on his friend’s face that day.

They were all eating lunch when your laughter suddenly sprang up from the other side of the cafeteria, obnoxious and shrill. Eddie glanced your way and his eyes darkened with such hollow sadness. It was as if someone had died.

But that didn’t mean anything, Gareth decided, so he shoved the memory away.

“All right, look, I’ll admit we lost him briefly for that one summer. I dunno how she did it, but somehow she got her claws in him real deep and he was completely under her spell. I won’t deny that. But then Eddie woke up and saw her for what she really is—an ugly green hag! At first, she appears as this beautiful, enchanting woman, but underneath that guise, she’s a wretched old witch who thrives on torment. Yeah, Eddie got over her a long time ago,” and Gareth refused to waste another thought on it.

He snatched the paper from Grant and laid it out in front of him. “Now, here’s what I’m thinking: if we split this up among the three of us, we can get through this list by lunch and then confront Eddie with our findings.”

“Yeah, we’re not doing that,” Grant said.

Gareth frowned. “Why not?”

“Because we already know who it is.”

Gareth’s eyes widened in surprised anger. “I KNEW IT! I FUCKING KNEW IT! I knew you two were messing with me this whole time. Sitting there with your smug little faces. Making your little jokes. You know what, screw you guys, I don’t even want your help anymore.”

He stuffed the paper back into his bag, climbed to his feet, and stomped off.

Over his shoulder, Jeff said, “Shoulda gone to prom, man.”

Gareth paused, dejected. “Well, no one would go with me…” He pushed through the double doors and was gone.

Afterward, Grant picked up his milk carton and took a few slow slips.

“You know what,” he said thoughtfully, “Gareth should’ve asked Y/N to prom.”

Jeff chuckled to himself. “Well, she did need a date… Shit, should we have just told him?”

“No,” Grant said. “No, this is something Gareth needs to see with his own eyes.”

Now Gareth, his resolve reignited and burning brighter than ever, was prowling the senior locker area with his suspect list in hand. 

Let them keep their secrets, he thought. I don’t need their help. A lot of help they would’ve been, anyway. Yeah, I can solve this mystery all on my own.

And he would. 

Gareth was a fantastic investigator, you see. He could win a game of Guess Who? in less than five turns and had a lifetime record of fifty-three wins and only fifteen losses (such losses were unavoidable when you drew an easily guessable character like Anita. Ugh, Anita… with those rosy cheeks and annoying blonde pigtails. His little sister beat him in only two moves after that unlucky draw). Now Gareth would apply those same deductive reasoning skills to this. Ask careful, complex questions. Gather information. Cross those ladies off one by one.

There was only one problem: the girls at Hawkins High weren’t exactly forthcoming about their personal lives, especially when it involved Eddie Munson. In fact, most girls denied ever having spoken to the guy. 

Claire Dunnock, the most recent inductee into the popular clique, was being especially difficult.

Her blue eyes shifted back and forth anxiously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, and then leaned forward to make sure none of her new friends were eavesdropping. Claire had to be very careful. One misstep and she would slide all the way back down the social ladder. She couldn’t afford to let that happen.

Gareth sensed her unease. “Hey, relax,” he told her, “I’m not here to ruin your reputation, okay? This conversation stays between us. You have my word.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Claire said. “I wouldn’t be caught dead with that freak.”

“Hey, that freak is my best friend,” Gareth said. “And you and I both know that’s not true, Claire. I saw you get into his van that one—”

Claire seized him by the arm and hissed, “Shut up!” Her eyes blazed with fearful, self-protective rage. “Look, that was a year ago, okay? I was a stupid junior who didn’t know any better. Eddie and I had a class together. I guess I got a little curious, but that’s it. We hung out once and I never spoke to him again.” Loosening her grip, she said, “Besides, he was nothing but a big disappointment, anyway.”

Anger flared in Gareth’s chest. “All right, that's it. I’m not gonna stand here and listen to you slander my friend.” 

“It’s not slander if it’s true,” Claire said. 

Gareth didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Look, just answer my question, okay? Did you go home with Eddie after prom or not?”

“Of course not,” Claire answered, practically cackling at the thought. 

(Why were high school girls so needlessly cruel?)

“I went to prom with my boyfriend. I was with him all night. Ask anyone.” Claire swung her locker door closed, put her hand on her hip, and raised her eyebrows impatiently. “Are we done now?” She walked off to join the rest of her friends. 

Gareth glared at her back, his insides boiling with indignation and righteous fury.

You got curious and Eddie got his heart broken. Again.

He crossed out Claire’s name with his pen. 

Two suspects down. Eight more to go.

He tucked his pen behind his ear, turned, and suddenly the hallway froze over!

Okay, that didn’t actually happen, but a bitter wind did blow. Gareth felt it on his face as soon as he saw you step out from around the corner. 

Coincidence? 

Doubtful.

You were wearing blue jeans and a Fleetwood Mac shirt. Yeah, you would like Fleetwood Mac, Gareth thought, scoffing. As usual, you were walking side by side with Chrissy Cunningham, your best friend since elementary school. She was smiling and laughing at one of your jokes. Laughing out of politeness, probably. Why you two were friends, Gareth would never know. Chrissy was sweet like cotton candy and you were so… so…

(evil, pure evil)

rotten to the core, like moldy fruit.

“I swear,” you said with a groan, “it’ll be weeks before your mom lets me into the house again. God, she’s such a prude. How was I supposed to know she was gonna invite the whole family over for Sunday brunch? At least I was dressed for the occasion.”

Chrissy looked at you in baffled amusement. “You were still wearing your prom dress.”

“And it was a very nice prom dress. Your grandma even complimented it. She said it made me look like Madonna.” You weren’t too thrilled about that comparison, but who were you to pass up a free compliment? “Now your mom, on the other hand… man, if looks could kill… I probably would’ve choked on one of those blueberry scones she was serving, which were a tad overbaked if I’m being honest.”

Chrissy went to her locker and fiddled with the padlock for a second before opening it. You stood patiently beside her, the wall clock barely within view. 

It was a quarter past eight, you noted with a frown. Was Eddie here already or…? 

While hanging up her pink backpack, Chrissy said, “Yeah, she definitely had some colorful words to describe you last night.” 

You turned your attention back to her. “Your mom called me a slut, didn’t she?”

Chrissy didn’t answer at first. She was busy unloading her homework. While she was doing that, one of her fellow cheerleaders snuck up behind her, tapped her on the shoulder, and gave a cheerful, heartfelt hello. Chrissy hugged her and asked how her weekend was. The two chatted casually for a minute and then the girl went on her way. Never so much as glanced at you. 

“Umm, I believe she used the word harlot,” Chrissy said to you afterward. 

“Oh, she got biblical, huh?” Great, you thought, as if that woman didn’t despise you enough already. “You know, I don’t understand your mom. First I’m too fat to be your friend. Now I’m too much of a slut. That lady needs to pick a lane and stay in it… and then drive herself right off a cliff.”  

Chrissy threw you a friendly glare.

“Just kidding,” you said. “You know I love your mom. She keeps me grounded. Without her, I might develop a healthy self-esteem, and we all know how dangerous that is. Yeah, that might lead to confidence and success… perhaps even lifelong happiness.” 

Ignoring you (or pretending to), Chrissy started digging through her backpack again. “Dammit,” she said under her breath, “I think I left my pencil case at home.” 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Jason has a pencil for you.” You smiled inwardly—a willful, wicked smile. “Then again…”  

Chrissy pushed her locker closed, grabbed both your hands, backed you up against the lockers, and brought her face really close to yours. “Shut up,” she whispered in half-hearted anger, a rosy blush blooming on the apples of her cheeks. 

You took one look at her and busted out laughing. Chrissy started laughing, too. 

“I hate you so much,” she said, and released you. 

“I know,” you replied affectionately. “But see, this is why the whole situation with your mom is so funny to me. I’m the one who’s still a virgin, yet somehow it’s me who gets labeled the…” 

You spotted a familiar face down the hall. 

“Gareth?” You leaned toward him, squinting. “What are you doing in the senior locker area?”

The sound of your voice made him flinch. “Nothing,” he said, acting strangely defensive for some reason.

That’s when you noticed the piece of paper in his hand. You gestured toward it with your chin and said, “What’s that you got there? Is that a love letter? You finally asking someone out on a date? Will you go out with me? Check yes or no. Who’s the lucky lady? Wait, aren’t you a little young to be dating?”

Gareth hid the paper behind his back and glared at you. “We’re the same age.” 

“And yet I’m a senior and you’re a junior. Hmm, how did that happen?” You tipped your head and smiled at him. “You’ve got company, by the way.” 

“Huh?” Gareth stepped back and—

A hand landed on his shoulder, closed around his flannel shirt, and spun him around. Gareth jumped back, swallowing a scream. He was now standing nose to chest with Ben Jabruski, outside linebacker and two-time defensive player of the year. Eric Kordell stood beside him, smaller but no less intimidating. His brown eyes gleamed with feral, territorial aggression. 

“Get outta here, freak,” Eric said. 

Gareth squared up to him, unafraid. “Last time I checked this was a free country.” He wrenched his shirt out of Ben’s grip, careful not to tear his favorite flannel. It was a Christmas gift from his mother. 

While he was distracted, Eric reached out and ripped the paper out of Gareth’s hand. 

“Hey, give that back!” 

“What’s this?” Eric asked. He opened the paper and studied it for a minute. His expression went from amused to curious to downright furious. He crushed the list in his fist. “Why’s my girlfriend on here?” 

“Oh…” Panic shot up Gareth’s spine. He took a step back and let loose a nervous chuckle. “Oh, you must be Claire’s boyfriend. You know, I heard you two had a lovely time at prom.” 

He turned on his heel and took off running down the hallway. 

“Bye, Gareth!” you said, fluttering your fingers as he passed. Then you looked back at Chrissy with a smile. “God, I love that kid…”

You went to your locker after that, ignoring all the busy little voices, the occasional odd glance and stifled giggle you received from the other students. Chrissy followed with her first-period textbook cradled in her arms. 

“Just ignore them,” she told you. 

“I already am,” you said… but then you saw Sarah, Sally, and Stacy huddled around Stacy’s locker. Talking about their hair. Talking about their clothes. Stirring their black cauldron of boiling bones and animal guts. Sarah looked at you, whispered something to Sally, who passed the same message on to Stacy, and all three of them tittered gleefully at your expense. 

“Just ignore them,” Chrissy said.

“I will,” you said, but first—

You whipped around and burst out: “So which one of you got knocked up after prom? My money’s on you, Stacy.” 

Chrissy, dismayed but secretly delighted, tugged gently on your right elbow. Before going with her, you tossed Satan’s mistress (AKA Stacy Raab) a snide little wink. Stacy rolled her eyes in disgust. 

“Stop it,” Chrissy said. 

“They started it.” 

“I know… but stop it. You’re better than that.” 

At the end of the hallway, you spotted Chance Gallagher standing in front of his open locker, wearing the same green letterman jacket that he’d worn when he asked you to prom six weeks ago. Chance closed his locker and caught your eye for a moment. Then he gave you a small, apologetic smile. 

What was he apologizing for? For asking you to prom, getting your hopes up, and then humiliating you in front of the entire senior class? You weren’t sorry he did it. In fact, you were glad he did it. Yeah, you wanted to go up to him, shake his hand, and thank him for being such a spineless little worm. If he were a decent guy, your night might have gone differently, and you were quite pleased with how your night went. So thank you, Chance. Thank you for being a complete scumbag. Maybe I should write him a thank-you note.

Smiling, you turned back around. As you did, you stole another quick glance at the clock on the wall. 

Eight-nineteen…

You sighed. 

… and now eight-twenty.

“He’s running late, huh?” Chrissy said. You looked her way and she flashed you a sweet, teasing smile. “I know you’re waiting for him.”

A small flush of heat tickled your cheeks, threatening to set your whole face on fire. Resisting it, you grabbed your padlock and started spinning the dial: three turns to the right, one full turn to the left, another quick turn to the right, and

“Are you nervous about seeing him?”

you missed the last number and had to start all over again. 

“Kind of,” you admitted. “Is that weird?”

Chrissy shook her head, her smile growing brighter and brighter. “Nope, it’s totally normal and absolutely adorable.” Giggling, she hugged her book tightly to her chest. If her hands were free, she probably would have hugged you instead. “I’m so happy for you. I really, really am. I swear, I feel like my heart’s about to burst right now.” 

“Well, you should probably see a doctor about that.” 

Chrissy stuck her tongue out at you. You did it right back, popped off your lock, and pulled on the handle. The locker door swung outward, squeaking on its hinges, and almost smacked Chrissy in the face. “Hey!” she said, laughing. She stepped back, skipped around you, and planted herself comfortably on your left side.

“So did you see him last night?” she asked, practically beaming. 

“Nope.” You slipped off your messenger bag and hung it on the hook. 

Chrissy squinted at you suspiciously. “Why do I feel like you’re lying right now?” 

“I’m not lying,” you told her, only to be betrayed by your blushing face. “I didn’t see him last night… technically it was this morning.” 

Twelve-o-two, to be exact. That’s when you saw the headlights flashing through your bedroom window blinds.

“Oh my god,” Chrissy said.  

“What? He just stopped by to say goodnight.” You smiled softly to yourself. “It was kind of romantic, actually.” 

“Uh-huh,” Chrissy said, laughing at you. “And how long did you two say goodnight?”

“Only for an hour… and a half.”

It was raining last night. You couldn’t invite Eddie into the house, so you two hung out in his van for a while. A very long while. W.A.S.P. was playing on the stereo. Eddie had found the cassette tape while cleaning out his van that afternoon. He was very proud of this accomplishment. It was adorable. He had you listen to a few of his favorite songs, asked you about your day, told you about his, and during “Cries In the Night,” he leaned over the center console and kissed you. Everything after that was a bit of a blur. The last thing you remembered was the horn blaring. You had accidentally pressed it with your elbow.  

“Oh my god,” Chrissy said.

“Stop saying, ‘Oh my god.’ You sound like my mom.”  

She had said the exact same thing after confronting you about it in the kitchen this morning. Turns out, the car horn had woken her up. Then she caught you creeping back inside through the front door. It was an awkward breakfast, to say the least. 

Chrissy poked your shoulder playfully. “That’s how it starts, you know. Late-night visits. Long, drawn-out goodbyes. You two are gonna be inseparable this summer.” She breathed a long, lovesick sigh. “Jason and I used to be like that.” 

“You’re still like that.” 

“Yeah,” she said, smiling. 

“Speaking of…” You saw Jason Carver coming down the hallway, his pants ironed and creased, white collared shirt tucked in, a brand-new Rolex glinting on his left wrist (an early graduation present from his father, apparently). He looked like a Ralph Lauren catalog model. “Is it weird that I’m picturing him naked right now?”

Chrissy hid her face in embarrassment. “I swear to God, if you say anything…” 

“What am I gonna say to him? ‘Thank you for deflowering my best friend’? ‘I heard your penis is rather pleasing’? I don’t wanna talk to him about that. I don’t even wanna think about that.”

Prior to this weekend, you couldn’t even imagine Jason Carver having genitals. You always figured he was like a Ken doll down there. Nothing but smooth plastic.

Chrissy looked at you, mortified. “Why do I tell you anything?”  

“I have no idea,” you said. Then you checked the clock again. 

Eight twenty-three. 

Where the hell’s Eddie? you wondered, starting to get a little worried.

Jason’s arrival reclaimed your attention. 

“Hey, guys,” he said in that smooth drawl that made all the girls swoon. 

You expected to find him standing with his million-dollar smile, but he wasn’t. No, today Jason seemed different—humble, approachable, perhaps even a little shy. It was as if he’d reverted back to his ten-year-old self. Little Jason Carver, who could barely dribble a basketball. The boy who stammered when he introduced himself to the rest of the class. The boy who sat down next to you, smiled, and said he liked the character on your favorite shirt. The boy who talked to you every day. Encouraged you. Defended you. The boy you caught staring at your best friend way too many times to be a coincidence. 

Then you looked at Chrissy and she seemed younger, too. A blushing, fidgeting ten-year-old who always forgot to stand up straight. She got so excited when Jason offered to walk her home from school. He even carried my books!

Back then, your happiness for them had been counterfeit, complicated, but not anymore. Yeah, now you could say you were genuinely happy for both of them. 

This was still awkward as hell, though.

“Hey, Chrissy needs to borrow a pencil,” you blurted out, breaking their amorous trance.

A soft pink flush rose to Jason’s cheeks. “What?”

“Just ignore her,” Chrissy said, struggling to keep a straight face. 

Meanwhile, you punched Jason on the shoulder. “Hey, don’t forget about our deal, buddy.” 

“I haven’t,” he told you. “I’ll buy your lunch, as promised. It’s the least I can do.” 

“What if I want two lunches? And a whole plate of cookies?”

“Then I guess I’m buying you two lunches and a whole plate of cookies.” 

Jason smiled at you… but then his demeanor changed, hardening like armor. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You blinked at him. “Am I okay?” you repeated slowly, a little taken aback. “Well, I did wake up with a strange tattoo on my wrist. It’s like a crucifix, except it’s upside-down. Weird… Also, I can’t be sure, but I think I might be dealing with a Rosemary’s Baby scenario. Yeah, I’m definitely gonna be giving birth to the Antichrist in about nine months. Buy something black.” 

Jason’s eyes widened in confused horror. 

“Oh my god, I’m kidding!” you said. “Eddie was a complete gentleman. He even asked for permission before he impregnated me with his hellseed. Naturally, I gave him the green light because… well, have you seen his face? It’s kinda perfect.” 

Chrissy put her hand over her mouth and giggled. Jason didn’t appreciate your joke. 

“Come on, be serious.” 

“I am being serious. Believe it or not, I actually find him insanely attractive. He’s like a discount version of Eddie Van Halen, and I can’t afford the real thing, so…” 

“So you actually slept with him?” Jason sounded disappointed and ashamed. He reminded you of your father. 

No, worse than your father.

“Well, no, I was kidding about that. I mean, I did sleep with him, but not in the way you’re assuming. And are you seriously gonna judge me for having sex? It’s been a while since I’ve been to church, but I’m pretty sure the bible condemns hypocrisy. You might wanna reread those sections. I think you’ll find them very enlightening.”

Jason ground his jaw in irritation. “Stop making jokes.” 

“I don’t want to,” you said finally, your voice breaking, “because then I’m just gonna get really, really mad like I’m doing right now, and I don’t wanna be mad at you, Jason. I was having a really good morning until you showed up.” 

By now, Chrissy had stopped laughing. Her shoulders drooped and she looked at you with a sick, sorry expression. 

Jason said, “Look, I just think you’re undervaluing yourself, okay? You can do so much better than that—”

“Oh, please don’t do that. Don’t try to talk to me like you’re my friend.” 

“I am your friend.” 

“Then be my friend, Jason. Stop trying to ruin my happiness!”

The school bell dinged and students began making their way to class. Jason went, too. Didn’t even bother saying goodbye. Chrissy told you not to worry about him. “Jason’ll come around eventually.” Then she smiled, waved goodbye, and ran to catch up with him. 

You weren’t half as optimistic as she was. 

This is gonna be a huge problem, isn’t it?  

You groaned, dreading it. 

Behind you, another wave of students came rushing down the hallway. Brittany Wirth was among them. You knew because you could hear her shrill voice piercing through the dull chatter around her. She was ranting about prom, complaining about the flowers, complaining about the food, about the music, about—

“YOU!” 

You flinched and turned around, thinking she was talking to you. 

What you saw made your eyes light up with glee. Brittany Wirth had Eddie Munson pinned up against the lockers, and she was jabbing him in the chest with her index finger. 

“You, sir, are a total asshole! Do you have any idea how hard I worked on that event? I was planning it for months, planning it to perfection, and then YOU had to go and make it all about yourself, as usual.” She stepped back and huffed, exhausted. “I hope you’re proud of yourself.” 

“I’m a little proud of myself,” Eddie replied candidly. 

Brittany shot him a deadly glare. “Oh, shut up!” She swept her hair off her shoulder and walked away.

You stopped her as she passed. “You know what, Brittany, all things considered, I thought it was a very successful night.” 

Brittany’s jaw dropped and got stuck like that, locked in befuddled rage. Not a single sound came out, but you could tell she was trying to speak. Was this it? Had it finally happened? Did Brittany Wirth actually crack? She worked her lips unsuccessfully for a minute and then closed them again, steaming in her hatred, screaming internally like a boiling teapot. She brushed past you and continued on her way. 

Then you heard Eddie approach you.  

“Did I really make the night all about me?” 

His question made you giggle. “A little bit.” You turned around with a smile, glad to see him, relieved to see him. “I still had a good time, though.” 

“Well, that’s all that matters,” Eddie said, but there was something in your eyes that made him frown with concern. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you said, and blinked that silly little worry away. “Jason’s just being… well, Jason.” 

“I take it he doesn’t approve of me.” 

“Yeah, you’ve really got him clutching his bible. He thinks you’re gonna drain my blood and sacrifice me to the devil.” 

“Really?” Eddie said, his eyes widening in false astonishment. “Well, he just spoiled our next date.” 

“Oh, really?” you replied, giggling. “Well, I guess that explains why I’m still a virgin.” 

Eddie winced, looked down at his shoes, and grinned bashfully. “Okay, I walked right into that one.”

“Yeah, you did,” you said; and God, it drove you crazy seeing him get so flustered.

Kinda like last night, you thought, startling yourself, and immediately shooed that dangerous thought away. Now was not the time for that, young lady. You still had a full day of school to get through. Somehow.

“You’re late,” you said.

“Yeah, I uh…” Eddie brought his hand to his face and started rubbing it. “I got pulled over for speeding.”

You gasped. “No, you didn’t.” 

“Yeah, I did.” 

“Prove it.”

Eddie pulled a folded-up piece of paper out of his back pocket and handed it to you. You opened it and immediately busted out laughing. 

“Oh, wow… going fifty-five in a forty-five.” 

“Eh, they went easy on me… I was going at least sixty.” 

“Wow…” 

“Yeah…” Eddie said, tilting his head. “The one time I’m in a rush to get to school.” 

His brown eyes sought yours and settled there for a moment, his lips curling into a tender, captivated smile. You smiled back helplessly, feeling girly, feeling giddy, feeling like you were probably grinning like an idiot right now. Embarrassed, you pressed the paper to your mouth in a vain attempt to hide it. When that didn’t work, you thrust the ticket back into Eddie’s hand and turned away, pretending to pull books from your locker. 

You felt along the spines like someone fumbling around in the dark. What class were you going to again? History? English? French? 

No, you weren’t even taking French.

You spoke to Eddie in a frazzled voice: “Well, since you’re not in handcuffs right now, I’m assuming they didn’t find anything when they searched your van, huh?” 

“Luckily, no…” 

“Good thing you cleaned out your van yesterday.”

“Mhm…” Eddie said, his voice seeming much closer than before.

Your roaming fingers slowed, then stopped, sliding all the way down the stack of books. With one more step, his presence had consumed you, making you blind and deaf to everything else, everything except Eddie. You could feel him standing next to you, leaning into you, his left hand outstretched and resting against the locker beside you. His voice sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Find what you’re looking for yet?”

You gazed into his eyes and got lost in them. “… I can’t remember what class I’m going to.”

You laughed at yourself sheepishly, senselessly, and saw Eddie crack a small smile: half amused and half… something else, something that brought you back to last night—that quiet, rainy night. Sitting in the dark and listening to music. Eddie humming softly beside you, drumming his right hand on the steering wheel, watching the tiny droplets race down his windshield. You sitting in your seat nervously. Fidgeting restlessly. Running your fingers over the plastic cassette case on your lap. Pretending to take interest in it while secretly watching Eddie out of the corner of your eye. Waiting for him to kiss you. Hoping he’d kiss you. Catching him staring at you with that smile… the same smile he was giving you now… right before he leaned in and…

“Ahem.” 

Another student appeared behind you, tapping her foot impatiently. “Uhh, can I get to my locker, please?”

Eddie drew away from you, embarrassed and a little frustrated, and took two giant steps back.

The girl assumed his place without a word, opened her locker, hung up her backpack, her jacket, grabbed her textbook and notebook, snatched a few pens from her bag, and closed her locker again. Before leaving, she motioned between you and Eddie and said, “So is this like a thing now?”

You caught Eddie’s eye for a second. “Uhh, yes,” you said while he fought back a huge smile.

The girl shook her head as if dizzy. “Weird,” she said, and left. 

Afterward, you turned to Eddie with a puzzled frown. “Wait, is it weird that I’m dating you or that you’re dating me? I need to know where I rank in this relationship.”

“Maybe you should ask her.” 

“Maybe I will…” 

Giggling, you stepped past him, spotted your locker neighbor at the end of the hallway, cupped your hands over your mouth, and shouted, “Hey, Carmen!” but you never got a chance to finish. Eddie had grabbed your hand and dragged you back to him, pulling you into his arms, putting you right where he wanted you, intending to pick up exactly where he left off.

The second bell rang before you could even feel his breath on your lips. Eddie closed his eyes tightly, as if pained. 

“I really hate that I have to be in school right now.” 

“Me too,” you said, staring up at him, your heart still pounding in your chest. “We should probably get to class.”  

Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist and held you tighter against him. “Or we could just, y’know, skip first period altogether… since you don’t know where you’re supposed to be anyway.” 

He swooped down and placed a few chaste kisses along the side of your head. Blushing, you buried your face into his chest. 

“Are you trying to get me to cut class, sir?”

“No, just giving you options.” 

“Mhm,” you said, giggling. 

While you contemplated his offer, you traced your hand over the button pocket of his denim vest, feeling the fabric, flicking each of his treasured pins one by one: Judas Priest, Accept, Mercyful Fate. You found the W.A.S.P. pin last and focused on it, teasing it with your finger. 

“And then what?” you asked, lifting your head to look at him. “We go back to your van and finish what you started last night?” 

Eddie’s eyes brightened in surprise. “Finish what you started, if I remember correctly.”  

“Was I the one who started it?” You frowned, pretending not to remember. 

Meanwhile, your hand had drifted up to the collar of his leather jacket. You nudged it out of the way and started tugging along the neckline of his shirt, revealing a faint pink bruise on the base of his collarbone. Eddie winced as your finger brushed over it. You smiled softly, remembering how his breath hitched when your lips made the first budding mark, how he cursed and moaned while you planted all the others, his hands slipping underneath your shirt and sliding across your skin. 

“I may have gotten a little carried away…”

“Yeah, you definitely did,” Eddie said, smiling at you.  

“I just really like W.A.S.P.”

“Do you?” 

“Mhm…”

Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he laughed. “Well, I still have the tape in my van. We can go listen to it right now if you want.” 

You bit your lip hard, unable to answer right away. God dammit, what had you gotten yourself into? You weren’t seriously considering his proposition before, but now…

“Go to class, please.” 

Now Ms. Kelley had come out of her office and was sweeping away the last few stragglers, you and Eddie included.

“I know we’re all a little sluggish this morning, but let’s start this week off strong, okay? There’s still another month before graduation. Don’t lose your focus now.” She looked at you and Eddie tiredly. “You two. Class. Now.”

You sighed as you saw your window of opportunity close. Eddie peeled himself away from you and started down the hallway.  

“See ya later,” he said over his shoulder. 

“Bye,” you said back, hiding your disappointment behind a smile. 

Upon returning to your locker, you grabbed your textbook—the right textbook—and wedged it in the crook of your left elbow. While hunting around for the matching notebook and folder, you heard Eddie’s voice behind you again, catching you completely by surprise.

“Oh, wait,” he said hurriedly, “I forgot to tell you something.” 

“Hmm?”

You turned around and felt Eddie’s hands cup the sides of your face, drawing you in for a soft, sweet kiss. You closed your eyes, savoring it. A moment later, he broke the kiss and pulled away.

“See you in third period,” he said, departing with a smile. 

It took you a second to recover from that. When you finally did, you clutched your textbook to your chest and smiled uncontrollably, tears brimming in your eyes, your heart racing, stomach fluttering, face glowing with pure, radiant joy. 

Under your breath, you whispered, “I hate so much that I have to be in school right now.”

Gareth, on the other hand, was glad to be in school today. Admittedly, his morning had gotten off to a rough start, but things were finally starting to look up for him, and now he felt like he was on the verge of a major breakthrough. 

Maybe. 

Hopefully.

But he didn’t wanna jinx it. 

In first period, Gareth snuck into the library and talked to Matilda Gunn: salutatorian, captain of the debate team, and the third name on Gareth’s list (his new list, of course; the original list was long gone, probably lying in a trashcan somewhere).

Matilda, anyway, was sitting at the back table and studying for her upcoming physics test. Matilda preferred studying in the library over her study hall class because she couldn’t stand the sound of her neighbor chewing and slurping his nails. She wasn’t too happy when Gareth pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. She was even less happy when he brought up Eddie Munson. 

“First of all, I’m offended that you would even think I would associate with that moron. I hate the guy. He ruined my GPA. Stupid group projects… God, I hate them!” Enraged, Matilda tore a random leaf out of her notebook and ripped the poor thing to shreds. Gareth watched her do it, horrified, and hoped there was nothing important written on that page. “You know, if I’d known he was gonna slack off like he did, I would’ve just done the whole thing myself. But no… I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I gave him the easiest task and he couldn’t even do that. He said he forgot about it. Said he was busy working on a campaign or something.”

“Yeah, he gets like that sometimes,” Gareth said. “Like last month, he spent the whole weekend learning ‘Master of Puppets.’ Have you heard that song?” 

Matilda shook her head, her eyes glazed with boredom. 

“Well, doesn’t matter. It’s a very hard song to play. That’s all you need to know. And Eddie became obsessed with it. He locked himself in his room all weekend and practiced over and over and—” 

Matilda pressed her hand to her temple and hissed, “Listen, junior freak, I don’t give a shit about Eddie Munson and his fucking guitar. Okay? Second of all, I didn’t even go to prom on Saturday. I was studying all weekend, studying for this test, and if I don’t get an A, I’m gonna hold you personally responsible. Now get lost.”

Gareth lurched back in his seat and felt his mouth go dry. 

(Once again, why were high school girls so needlessly cruel?)

“Okay,” he said in a small voice. “I’m, uhh, sorry for bothering you.” 

He got up to leave. 

“Wait,” Matilda said with a sigh; then after a moment of careful, painful deliberation, she put out her hand. “Gimme your stupid list.”

Gareth held the list against his chest, protecting it. “You’re not gonna rip it up, are you?” he asked, observing the tattered remains of her last victim. “Because I’m getting kinda tired of writing all these names out.”

And some of those girls had really long names.  

“I’m not gonna rip it up.” Matilda’s voice was strained with frustration and fatigue, but there was still some warmth hiding in there, dimly glowing beneath the cold black coals of her heart. “I’m gonna help you narrow it down, okay? Otherwise, you’ll never figure it out.” She motioned impatiently with her hand. “Come on, hurry up.” 

Gareth handed her the list and she looked it over for a minute, vaguely amused.  

“Not a very long list,” she said while uncapping her highlighter with her teeth. 

“Well, Eddie’s very picky.” 

As he should be, Gareth thought. That man deserved the best.

(much better than you) 

Matilda snorted under her breath. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” She rolled her eyes, bent her head, and began marking up the list with her highlighter. Her hand was calm and controlled, each movement deliberate, precise, as to be expected of an advanced test taker. “Okay, she has a boyfriend… she, I’m pretty sure, has a girlfriend… boyfriend… boyfriend… boyfriend… she’s been out of town for a funeral… and she… doesn’t even live in this state anymore.”

She crossed off the last name and slid the paper across the table. 

Gareth gaped at it, speechless. “You just eliminated everyone.” 

Matilda shrugged. “Like I said, not a long list.” 

It was a major setback, the kind of setback that made you want to tear the whole thing to pieces, cut your losses, and give up. Gareth seriously considered it. He almost did it while sitting in his second-period class. 

But then an angel appeared. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel named Olivia Kent.

She peered over his shoulder during class. “Whatcha doin’?” she asked, sitting with her chin on her palm. 

Gareth considered lying, saying he was working on his assignment or something, but in his current state, he didn’t have the heart to deceive anyone, especially not Olivia, who was so innocent and kind.

“I’m trying to figure out who my friend went home with after prom.” 

“Oh? Who’s your friend?”

“Eddie Munson.” 

“Oh…” Olivia giggled a silly, unaffected giggle. “Yeah, he had quite the night.” 

Gareth turned around in his seat. “You were at prom, Livvy?” 

“Mhm! It was a lotta fun.” 

“And you saw Eddie there?”

“Sure. I saw him lots of times.” 

“Did you see him leave with anybody?”

“Sure did… I saw everything.” 

“You saw everything?” Gareth sat back, awestruck, and felt tears come to his eyes. This was it. This was finallyit. This was the breakthrough that Gareth had been waiting for. An eyewitness—a star witness—had emerged at last, willing and eager to cooperate. “Oh, Livvy, you beautiful, beautiful, heavenly creature, tell me everything.” 

“About what?”

“About prom, Livvy.” 

“Oh, you wanna hear about prom?” Olivia shrugged, smiled, and said, “Okay! Philip Cuthbert asked me. I didn’t think he was going to, but then he totally surprised me! I wore a frilly pink dress and matching pink heels. Phillip wore a dark blue tux and a black bowtie. I think it was black, but it might’ve been blue, too. Then Philip got me one of those really pretty flower bracelets… What are those called again? Oh, right, corsages! Anyway, we took pictures on the front lawn of my house, then we took pictures at his house, and then we took more pictures in front of City Hall. I don’t normally like taking so many pictures, but I didn’t mind so much in this case. It was a special occasion. Phillip said I looked very pretty. He was really nice to me all night. He held my hand. He bought me dinner. He got me some cake. I actually ate two slices of cake that night, but don’t tell anybody, okay? I was only supposed to have one. And then we danced and drank punch and we danced again—”

Gareth put his hand on top of hers, making Olivia blush and look at him in doe-eyed wonderment. “Livvy, I’m glad you had such a fun time at prom, but since class is gonna be ending soon, do you think you could speed things up and get to the part where you saw Eddie? Is that okay?”

“Sure,” Olivia said, smiling. “I saw him talking to Chrissy.” 

“Yeah, he went there to ask her to dance. I told him it was a terrible idea, but he refused to listen to me.” 

“Yeah, that was a bad idea. Why would he do that?” 

“Because Eddie’s a hopeless romantic.” 

“Really?” Olivia frowned, considering it. “He doesn’t seem like one.” 

“He hides it behind a mask of cynicism, and he hides it very well.” 

“Oh,” Livvy said, mystified by the concept. “Well, I guess that explains why he got up on stage then.”

“Wait, Eddie got up on stage?” 

Damn, Gareth thought, that’s actually really impressive.

“Mhm! He gave this long speech and everything. My friends said it was really weird and embarrassing, but honestly, I thought it was kinda sweet. Super embarrassing, but sweet. It was kind of like a… hmm… well, I guess you could call it a love confession. I don’t remember what he said exactly, but it was really adorable, and normally I wouldn’t use that word to describe Eddie—you know, ‘cause he’s so mean and scary-looking—but at that moment, he really was adorable. Kinda like a puppy. And then he played Journey and—” 

Gareth’s head rocked back. “He played Journey? Eddie played Journey? Eddie doesn’t like Journey. Nobody likes Journey. Nobody except…” 

(you)

Gareth’s eyes widened. His stomach plummeted to the floor. Then he shook his head and the thought was gone. 

“Okay, maybe it’s just a coincidence,” he said. “Maybe the DJ suggested Journey. Do you remember what song it was, Livvy?” 

“No, I don’t. Sorry, I’m not very good with song titles.” 

“Was it ‘Separate Ways’? ‘Any Way You Want It’? ‘Don’t Stop Believin’’? ‘Faithfully’? ‘Open Arms’?” 

“You know, for someone who doesn’t like Journey, you sure know a lot of Journey songs.” 

And for someone who seemed like such an airhead, Olivia Kent was shockingly observant. Gareth was rather impressed. He couldn’t help but tip his head to her. Touché, fair lady.

“I think it was the last one,” Olivia said. 

“‘Open Arms’?” 

“I think so.” 

“So Eddie played a sappy love song,” Gareth concluded while rubbing his chin. “Makes sense.” 

“Mhm… and it must’ve worked ‘cause she left with him right after.” 

“You saw the girl who left with him?”  

“Yep.” 

“You saw her face?”

“Of course I did. She walked right past me.” 

“And did you recognize her?”

“Uh-huh!” 

“YES!” Gareth pumped his fists excitedly. He almost leaped out of his chair and kissed her, he was so happy. “Who was it, Livvy? Tell me who it was!”

Olivia sighed. “I don’t remember.” 

“What?” Gareth’s heart shattered. “But you just said you recognized her.”

“I did recognize her face, but I don’t remember her name… Sorry, Gareth, I’m not very good with names.” 

“You’re not good with names,” Gareth repeated softly, beside himself. “She’s not good with names. She’s not good with names. My star witness isn’t good with names.” 

He laughed madly to himself, feeling dizzy and delirious, feeling like the whole room was spinning like a turntable. A turntable playing Journey. Journey! Of all the bands in the world, Eddie, why Journey? Why? Why?

Meanwhile, Olivia rested her cheek against her palm and smiled at him. “You have really pretty eyes. Do you want my number?”  

Gareth paused, considering it. His face turned bright red. 

“Yes, Livvy. Yes, I’d love to get your number.” 

“Cool!” She scribbled it on a piece of notebook paper and handed it to him. “Call me sometime, okay?” 

So now Gareth was strolling away from his third-period class with a laminated hall pass in hand, Olivia Kent’s phone number in his pocket, a massive pit in his stomach, and Steve Perry’s annoying voice in his head. 

Journey. 

Eddie had requested Journey.  

It wasn’t a coincidence, was it? 

Gareth walked past Mr. Prichard’s math class, stopped, and backpedaled a few paces. He pressed his face against the glass and peered inside. 

Eddie was sitting at his desk with his assignment out and textbook open in front of him. He had his pencil in his hand, but he had yet to write a single answer. He was just tapping it against his notebook while he stared absently at the chalkboard, stared with a faraway look in his eyes. Gareth knew that look. It meant Eddie was lost in thought, usually about D&D or whatever new song he was learning, but today Gareth had a sneaking suspicion that Eddie was thinking about something else—or rather someone else. 

But not you. Please, God, not you. 

You were sitting behind him and quietly working on your assignment, just working on your assignment, and that caught Gareth a little off guard. If you had gone home with Eddie (as Gareth begrudgingly suspected now), shouldn’t you have been acting a little… happy? excited? Shouldn’t you have been staring at the back of his head with a dumb, lovesick expression? Daydreaming and doodling about him in your notebook? Naming your future children and planning your destination wedding?

Gareth expected to feel something when he peeked into that classroom. A change in energy. A shift in the natural balance of the universe. Call it whatever you want, but there should have been a noticeable difference in the air, right? Right?  

But there wasn’t.

Everything was totally normal. 

You and Eddie were acting totally normal. 

And that filled Gareth with an exhilarating sense of relief. 

It wasn’t you. Thank God, it wasn’t you. 

Gareth backed away with a smile. If he had stayed a minute longer, he would have seen the exact change in energy he had been waiting for. If he had stayed a minute longer, he would have seen Eddie turn around and start talking to you. He would have seen you smile and blush and tell him to go back to his assignment (even though you didn’t really want him to go back to his assignment). Then he would have seen Eddie turn back to the front, try to do his work, give up, and turn around again five minutes later. 

But Gareth didn’t stay. Instead, he continued down the hallway in blissful ignorance, pulled out his list, ripped it up, and tossed the pieces into the trash. 

If it wasn’t any of them and it wasn’t you, there was only one logical conclusion. 

“She doesn’t go to school here, does she?”

Gareth forced this treasonous charge onto Eddie as soon as he arrived at the cafeteria. He had found his target sitting at his usual place at the head of the table. The seat of high honor. Eddie’s chair. The king’s chair. Gareth, a once-honorable and faithful soldier, slammed down his tray, leaned forward, pressed his palms into the table, and looked Eddie Munson square in the eye. Unblinking. Unflinching. Unyielding against his Dungeon Master’s powerful, intimidating aura.  

A moment of tense silence passed. Jeff and Grant looked at each other and immediately stopped eating. Jeff put down his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Grant screwed on the lid of his soup thermos and set the container aside. There was no telling how long this would take. Gareth had a talent for prolonging his inevitable demise. It was like watching a slow hanging. 

Oh, but what a show it would be. 

“Who is she, Eddie?” Gareth thrust out his finger accusingly. “Huh? Is she a teacher? A townie? Some drunk chick you picked up at the bar while drowning your pathetic sorrows away?” 

“Yikes,” Jeff said, cringing. 

And Grant said, “That is quite the allegation.”  

Indeed it was, and Eddie didn’t seem to appreciate the open assault on his character. His brown eyes sharpened into a steely glare. They reflected Gareth’s destruction like a black crystal ball. Doom. Doom. Doom. 

“Get your finger outta my face,” Eddie said, and that was all he needed to say.  

“I’m so sorry,” Gareth said, and fell back into his chair with a thump. His heart thudded in his chest while the color slowly returned to his face. That was as close to death as Gareth had ever come. It was a miracle he’d survived. He bent his head and capitulated: “I sincerely apologize for my previous statement. It was malicious and rude, completely unbecoming of my position.”

Grant squinted his eyes curiously. “And what is your position, exactly?” 

“I’m Eddie’s best friend, obviously.” 

“Obviously,” Jeff echoed, snickering. 

Grant, wryly amused, said, “Uhh, I’m pretty sure Scottie’s his best friend.” 

Eddie, having dropped his tyrannous facade, was pretending to listen while absentmindedly picking through his snack bag, his thoughts elsewhere, eyes elsewhere. But where, Gareth couldn’t say. He had strained his neck to see who Eddie was looking at, but it was impossible to tell with so many people in the cafeteria. He could have been looking at anyone, anyone, anyone except you.

“He’s right,” Eddie murmured. “Scottie’s my best friend.” 

Gareth shrugged, unconcerned with such trivial technicalities. “Well, then I’m your second best friend, Eddie, and since Scottie’s in prison right now, I have to step in and assume the role in his stead.” 

“Ah, the interim best friend. So that’s the imaginary position you gave yourself.” 

“Oh, shut up and eat your soup, Grant.” 

“I will eat my soup,” Grant said, “and I’ll enjoy it while you continue to embarrass yourself.” 

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Gareth grumbled nonsensically. He stabbed a piece of broccoli with his fork, stuffed it into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. It tasted like dirt. “I’m having a really horrible day.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Eddie said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Mine’s actually going pretty well.”

Another cryptic response. Gareth simply couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know,” Jeff began, “speaking of Scottie—” 

Gareth flung down his fork angrily, sending a spear of broccoli whizzing past Grant’s left shoulder. 

“Oh, come on, just tell me who it is already! Enough with the hints and the coded language. I swear to God, you’re driving me crazy, Eddie! You’ve been torturing me for days with this mystery. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t think about anything else. As your friend, I’m begging you to stop. Please, for my sanity, stop.” 

Eddie popped a pretzel into his mouth and chewed. “I’ve been torturing you?”

Grant said, “He’s been torturing himself, honestly.” 

Jeff nodded, seeming on the verge of laughter. “Yeah, he made a list and everything.”

Eddie grimaced. “Wait, there’s a list? Why is there a list?” 

“Because you’ve driven me to madness, Eddie!” Gareth blurted out in blind white rage. “I hope you’re happy because you’ve driven me to complete madness! Who were you with on Saturday? Don’t even try to deny it because I heard a girl talking in the background. It wasn’t the TV. It was a girl. A living, breathing girl. I know you were with her that night, and I know you were with her yesterday.” 

“I wasn’t with her yesterday,” Eddie replied, his eyelids heavy with annoyance. “I already told you, I was out running errands.” 

“Oh, you’re sticking with that story, huh? Okay, Eddie, let’s assume you were out running errands. Let’s assume you spent your whole Sunday exactly as you said. You got up bright and early, stopped by the drugstore for God knows what, and then spent the rest of the day by yourself at home, cleaning out your van.” 

“I did clean out my van yesterday. That’s how I found my lost W.A.S.P. tape.”  

“Oh, which album?” Grant asked. 

“The Last Command,” Eddie answered, a soft smile touching his face. 

Wait, was that another clue?

“Nice,” Grant said. “That’s a solid album.” 

Eddie nodded, agreeing, but now there was a distant glimmer in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Gareth couldn’t take his eyes off it. It was as if his friend was lost in a cherished memory. 

What significance did this W.A.S.P. tape hold?

Was there any significance? 

These questions twisted Gareth’s mind into a pretzel. 

And speaking of pretzels, Eddie had set down his snack bag and stopped eating. Weird. He now sat with his arms folded over his chest, fingers drumming impatiently against his right bicep. His wandering eyes kept going back to the clock. Counting down the minutes. What had him so restless all of a sudden? What was he waiting for? His next class? English? Was that significant? Eddie hated English. He dreaded English. He complained about it every day because it meant he had to see— 

Eddie pushed off the table and stood up. Gareth climbed up from his chair, too. 

“Where are you going, Eddie?” 

“Dude,” Jeff said, looking up at him. “You need to calm down.” 

“Otherwise,” Grant went on, “you might get demoted to third best friend.”

The two of them dissolved into laughter. Gareth didn’t even hear them.  

“It’s happening,” he muttered. “Something’s happening.”

“Yeah, you annoyed Eddie so much that he had to leave to get away from you.” 

But that wasn’t it. Eddie wasn’t fleeing for the exit like a coward. No, he was marching straight through the middle of the cafeteria like a lone soldier charging through the battlefield. Charging to victory or to death. He was infiltrating the enemy’s stronghold, impervious to their hostile glares and raised eyebrows. Even Jason Carver himself, who had begun to get out of his chair, could not stop him today. Eddie was a man determined, a man determined to get to

(of course)

you. 

He wedged himself between two basketball players, pushed his palms into the table, and greeted you with a charming smile. You gazed up at him in sweet surprise. 

“Hi,” you said. 

“Hi,” he said back. “You wanna skip next period?”

Chrissy’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god,” she said while you blushed, buried your face in your hands, and giggled. 

Gareth, dumbstruck, slumped back into his chair with the bitter taste of defeat in his mouth. 

That bitch, he thought. That Journey-loving bitch, she actually did it.

Grant regarded him with an impressed frown. “You know, you’re handling this a lot better than I thought you would. When did you figure it out?” 

Gareth sighed. “Second period.” 

Eddie just had to play Journey.

There was a moment of solemn silence after that. Then Grant unscrewed his soup thermos and lunch resumed as usual. Jeff took a bite of his sandwich. Gareth, now resigned to his grim fate, stuck his fork into his meatloaf and cut himself a modest slice. The meat looked dry and grey. What a horrible new world he lived in. 

But, he supposed, there was something to look forward to. 

“I got Olivia Kent’s number today. I think I’m gonna ask her out this weekend.”

SERIES MASTERPOST

FANFICTION MASTERLIST

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