#Single Review: The Casket

[gbhbl]

Single Slam: Future Palace, Extinction A.D., Wicked Envy, Fate’s Hollow, Massive Wagons, Calva Louise, Werewolves, Bad Neighbour, Allt, Oceans of Slumber, Between Owls, Deadscape, Summoning the Lich, Alterjoy, Powerwolf, Iress, Casket Robbery, Vanitas, The Salt Pale Collective, …has no tongues, Defences, Bones UK, Kurokuma, Unto Others, Graphic Nature, and Zeal & Ardor!

Today’s single slam features Future Palace, Extinction A.D., Wicked Envy, Fate’s Hollow, Massive Wagons, Calva Louise, Werewolves, Bad Neighbour, Allt, Oceans of Slumber, Between Owls, Deadscape, Summoning the Lich, Alterjoy, Powerwolf, Iress, Casket Robbery, Vanitas, The Salt Pale Collective, …has no tongues, Defences, Bones UK, Kurokuma, Unto Others, Graphic Nature, and Zeal & Ardor.

Today’s single slam features Future Palace, Extinction A.D., Wicked Envy, Fate’s Hollow, Massive Wagons, Calva Louise, Werewolves, Bad Neighbour, Allt, Oceans of Slumber, Between Owls, Deadscape, Summoning the Lich, Alterjoy, Powerwolf, Iress, Casket Robbery, Vanitas, The Salt Pale Collective, …has no tongues, Defences, Bones UK, Kurokuma, Unto Others, Graphic Nature, and Zeal & Ardor. You can…

[reality-liver-n0]

This is going to be my worst post to date (in my opinion)

But after the anguish and turmoil that has hit Balalaika fans after her appearence in the latest chapter like her lack of muscle/strength that we know she unleashed on Rock, the fading of her scars, and other things I decided to investigate myself to see how much she changed.

The majority of these pictures are from the anime. Sad, I know, and hopefully once I find the direct panel from the manga that mirrors it I will edit or add more to this post.

I will start this by saying that Anime Balalaika is an absolute fucking unit. Like reviewing the pictures I realized that she's built like a very beautiful Russian tank and that is really the best description here.

Do you see what I mean? It's most likely the coat but still, it has to touch her shoulders to even drape.

Although, it depends on the scene as she can be like this too

Her shoulders are less defined and aren't quite as cut as the top ones but her muscle is there at least.

Above is the Virgin Rock as physical comparision

She's obviously fucking built way beyond his physique and she knows it. She corners him in or crosses her arms while his remain at his side as he tries to be unaffected. And honestly, kudos to him. He stood pretty strong in this scene and I think he knew he had to do that to even try and talk on her level.

I mean we've seen what happens when he doesn't. Disclaimers ahead, Rock is in for a rough ride. I on the other hand, laughed my ass off when I took these screenshots.

Also, here is what I personally think went through Balalaika's head in each scene and the progression of it.

% Anger Level - Annoyance

Jesus Christ, he's on this bullshit again. Sounds like one of those family dogs I keep having to put down.

% Anger Level - Frustrated

Maybe if I make it clear I'm pissed right now he'll have some sense left in him. If he says one more word I am going to make him the hood ornament for the car.

% Anger Level - Hostility

Just looking at this cigarerette is giving me an idea. I could just throw him like I could with this. Sooner or later he'll be stepped on; fire dying out.

% Anger Level - Rage

I'm certain his face will never change in his casket

With one strike I could gouge his eyes out. Maybe then he'll see justice.

You've sealed your fate Rock. Now you'll suffer the death of a true hero.

(Woohoo! 🎉You passed the slideshow and now I'll do my commetary. Here's a Boris photo as a reward.)

This is the face he wanted to make right when Rock started talking.

Anyway, I must have forgotten just how Balalaika threw Rock since I took those screenshots. I knew that she did it but somehow forgot that she did it with one arm. Or at least how much power she put into flinging him like a ragdoll. LIke she fucking lifted him in the air with one hand and with a single move had him on the hood in split seconds.

Here's a funny picture I caught mid-shot as well

His feet aren't touching the ground. He's fully straight as if he didn't have have a second to take it in, meanwhile his hands are just open and it's like he forgot he was even alive. No doubt, he had a vision that when Balalaika even reached for him that she just punted him to the afterlife.

Meanwhile, I cannot imagine the raw terror Revy must have felt seeing this happen.

She is scared as hell here. Keep in mind that this entire exchange she can't see Balalaika's face or Rock's. Both their backs are to her until Balalaika throws Rock. Still, I doubt that she really could've seen him past Balalaika's frame. Meanwhile, she's probabaly just processing that Balalaika's strong enough to do what she just did. Most likely she already knew she has a lot of physical power, I mean look at her, but this is the first time she's seen it and it happened to the worst person possible.

I can fully say that Balalaika is a fucking beast in hand-to-hand combat with the body to match it. And this is only focusing on her throwing Rock! She already snapped a neck by this point. Rock saw that and again, he does have some courage or maybe stupidity to even do this since he saw that with his own eyes.

Revy hasn't. And I don't think Rock told her, at least not until he knew they were back in Roanapur and safe. He was still traumatized by it too so chances are he is suffering some recurring nightmare of it. To top it off, this event alone was so visceral in his mind that he draws a direct comparaision to Chang, symbolizing how truly helpess he was.

With all that out of the way here isthe recent manga depiction of Balalaika

(no comment needed)

Here are the earlier depictions of her in the previous chapters. All the thanks to @crystallinee-waters and @progmanx for the posts concerning the chapters and the usual girlboss stuff 💅

Love you two for that

In conclusion the only explanation for this is that Chang used his CIA connnections (Eda) to tamper with the latest chapter to make himself look cooler. And I guess he had enough mercy to include Rock in that upgrade too, for whatever reason.

Hero of the chapter was definitely Le Majeur

Homegirl got sacraficed by Balalaika to the gays

Which will probabaly be another cursed post sometime in the future with the Holy Trinity (Balalaika, Revy and Le Majeur)

✊ They're staying strong and holding down the series' reperesentation of the ABC Mafia

(😔 not canonically tho only Le Majeur has officially come out, or got outed by her comrade. But then Revy saved her ass and definitely did not hear anything and now does not knows what Le Majeur really is.)

A homosexual 🌈

Okay. I think I'm finally done with this, and I went off the rails by the end but this post now exists so I will return to my secluded hole 🕳️

(Forgot to add buff Revy too, so here she is)

She can be both happy and mad but she's still jacked af (and silently judging you at all times because of your gayness)

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

The Daily Don

* * * *

President Biden to name national monument for Emmet Till and his mother.

          The brutal torture and murder of Emmett Till followed by his mother’s decision to hold an “open casket” funeral changed America. In 1955, a young Black teenager, Emmett Till, was abducted and killed because a white woman accused Till of “whistling” at her and grabbing her wrist. (The woman later recanted the accusations during an interview for a book.) Till’s nearly unrecognizable body was pulled from a river, where it was weighted with a 75-pound cotton gin fan secured to his neck by barbed wire. Nearly 250,000 people walked past his casket, and hundreds of thousands more saw photos of Till’s mutilated body in his casket.

          Two white men were charged with the murder and acquitted by an all-white jury. The defendants confessed to the crime a few months later in an interview given to Look Magazine—for which they were paid $4,000, a hefty sum in 1956. Having been previously acquitted, they could not be tried again for murder because of the Constitution’s double jeopardy prohibition.

          Emmett Till’s murder and his mother’s bravery in holding an open-casket funeral galvanized the nascent civil rights movement and helped to inspire a generation of civil rights leaders, including Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King. On Monday, President Biden announced that he is declaring three sites as a national monument to Emmett Till and his mother, Mamie Till-Mobley. See NYTimes, Biden to Name National Monument for Emmett Till and His Mother. (This article is accessible to all.)

          President Biden’s actions come at a moment of renewed overt racism in America. Florida’s new history curriculum includes prompts asking students to consider ways in which slavery “benefitted” enslaved persons by giving them skills they could use after emancipation. See Florida’s State Academic Standards—Social Studies, 2023. The linked document includes the following “benchmark” standard (on page 6):

Benchmark Clarifications: Clarification 1: Instruction includes how slaves developed skills which, in some instances, could be applied for their personal benefit.

          The proposed “benchmark clarification” is a stunning revision to an institution where white owners profited from forced labor by enslaved persons. To suggest that any part of that forced labor was “beneficial” is a cruel and dishonest whitewashing of a vile institution. But Ron DeSantis nonetheless defended a “pro-slavery” curriculum that his culture war unleashed in Florida. See The Independent, DeSantis defends Florida curriculum that suggests slaves benefited from forced labor.

          But the Academic Standards linked above are far worse than the media portrays. The issue is not a single snippet—the language quoted above—it is the entire approach to teaching the history of slavery in the United States. I invite you to review pages 5 through 10 of the Academic Standards, and you will discover that much of the curriculum is devoted to describing slavery in Africa, Europe, and Asia—apparently to make the disgusting point that “everyone else was doing it.” For example, the “benchmark clarifications” on page 9 include the following:

Benchmark Clarifications: Clarification 1: Instruction includes how trading in slaves developed in African lands (e.g., Benin, Dahomey). Clarification 2: Instruction includes the practice of the Barbary Pirates in kidnapping Europeans and selling them into slavery in Muslim countries (i.e., Muslim slave markets in North Africa, West Africa, Swahili Coast, Horn of Africa, Arabian Peninsula, Indian Ocean slave trade). Clarification 3: Instruction includes how slavery was utilized in Asian cultures (e.g., Sumerian law code, Indian caste system). Clarification 4: Instruction includes the similarities between serfdom and slavery and emergence of the term “slave” in the experience of Slavs. Clarification 5: Instruction includes how slavery among indigenous peoples of the Americas was utilized prior to and after European colonization.

          All of the above smacks of a white-racist defense of slavery in the US. Thankfully, Joe Biden is resisting the effort by the right to erase America’s shameful history of slavery and Jim Crow laws that enforced a system of apartheid for nearly a century after the Civil War.

[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]

[unusannusbracket]

I’ve had some curious people, so here’s the seed. (Warning that all 366 videos are in a list here, so it’s very long)

Cooking with Sex Toys

Ethan Finally Becomes a MAN

Recreating Every Single Unus Annus Video

Mark and Ethan Attempt an Escape Room

Hunting HeeHoo

Pee Sauna

Goodbye.

Ethan Gives Mark a Viking Funeral

Playing Children’s Games in Total Darkness

Preserving Ourselves in Wax

DIY Geriatric Simulator

DIY Bungee Jump (please don't try this)

2 Truths and 1 Lie -- Waxing Edition

Mark Teaches Ethan to Read with Hooked on Phonics

Duct Tape Crucifixion (Amy, Please Don't Watch This Video)

Bear Trapping 101: An Elegant Knot For an Elegant Beast

The Unus Annus Annual Sleepover

Reacting to Your Hilarious Green Screen Memes

Creating Mark FISHbach

Goat Yoga

Chickens Teach Us About Life and Death

Unus Annus Try Pole Dancing

We Made Nude Paintings of Each Other

Being Brutally Honest with Each Other

2 Absolute Beginners Experience the Dancing Glory that is Salsa

The Unus Annus Annual Costume Contest

Mark Turns Ethan into a Mummy to Prepare Him for the Great Beyond

Mark Conquers His Fear of Night Swimming

Pee Soda

We Got Pepper Sprayed

The Truth of Unus Annus

Mark Teaches Ethan How to Play the Trumpet

Hiding Our Sins from Amy's Holy Peepers

The Wubble

Mark Cooks Blindfolded While Ethan Guides Him Through FaceTime

W​​​​​e Had To Drink Each Other's Pee

We Accidentally Made an SCP While Amy Was Away

Santa's Mukbang (Drinking 1 Gallon of Eggnog)

Beer Sauna: Turning a Portable Sauna into a Portable Hell

Literally Eating Fire

All Our Video Ideas That Never Happened

Mark Reviews The Impossible Burger But There's a Looming Sense of Impending Doom

2 Grown Men Attempt the Presidential Fitness Test

Nutball: The Most Dangerous Game

The Unus Annus Last Supper

We Force Mark to Swim in the Ocean (HIS GREATEST FEAR)

Fixing Mark's Hole with Ramen but Every Time We Add Glue We Get 5% Closer to God

The Koala Challenge: TikTok’s Intimate Couple’s Trend

Pitching a Tent in the Woods But There's a Bear 15 Feet Away

We Tried a Labor Pain Simulator

We Will Churn Thy Butter

Mark Breaks His Nose On An Aerial Hoop

Beating Inanimate Objects to Death

Mark's Outdoor Escape Room

Donating Toys to Charity w/ JackSepticEye

Baby Hands Operation

What in the Hell is a Pink Trombone?

Mark Teaches Ethan How to March in a Marching Band

Drawing on Each Other's Backs in Total Darkness

Crushing Watermelons Betwixt Our Mighty Thighs

Making Our Own Sensory Deprivation Tank

We Lubed Our Floor for a Sliding Competition

A Serious Conversation Under the Stars

Drawing Memes from Memory

1 Man 100 Accents

How to Start a Fire (except don't...)

DIY Chiropractor

Mark Needs To Rub Ethan and Only His Mom Can Help Him

We Pierced Each Other’s Ears

Mark and Ethan Go Casket Shopping

Unus Annus

Mark Punishes Ethan

We Force James Charles to Run a Military Obstacle Course

The Sensory Overload Tank

Mark and Ethan Are Now Fathers

We Made Every YouTuber Battle in the Hunger Games

We Bought Every Grinch Costume on Ebay

Turning Mark Into an E-Boy

Helium Therapy

Everything's Legal If You're Dead

How to Safely Bury Your Friend

Who’s Cutting Onions In Here???

Recreating the Miracle of Childbirth

We Play the Newlywed Game While Consuming That Which Will Kill the Other

The Beginning of The End

We Attempted to Create THICC Water

DIY Boob

2 Idiots Get Crushed by 18-Foot Giant Snakes

Mark and Ethan Get Into a Fight

The Painful World of Aerial Silks

You Blink You Lose

Ethan Will Be Kicked in the Balls

We Looked at Unus Annus Memes

Poopsie Sparkly Critters (a slime surprise...)

Unregulated Axe Throwing

10 Strange Amazon Products Ethan Bought Mark Because He Doesn't Know How to Spend Money Responsibly

The Secret Unus Annus No-Touchy-Touchy Hand Shake

Taped and Afraid

We Played Strip Poker

REAL Ghost Hunting at an Abandoned Zoo

This Video is Completely Unedited

Eating Only Onions for 24 Hours: How Many Onions Does it Take to Kill a Man?

Ethan Teaches Mark Gymnastics

Mark and Ethan Look at a Puppy for 10 Minutes

Pressure Washing Our Sins Away

The Ultimate Trolley Problem

Recreating Mark's Childhood

2 Men in a Trench Coat Teach You how to Save Moneyat the Movies

Mark Teaches Ethan to Wrestle

What Was the Most Painful Thing We've Ever Endured?

Drinking Real THICC Water... How Bad Does It Taste?

This is What Being Tased Feels Like

Only UNUS-es May Watch This Video

We Take a Lie Detector Test to Uncover our Darkest Sins

Transforming Mark into the 8th Wonder of the World

This Is The Most Dangerous Children's Toy Ever Made

Saying Goodbye to All Our Guests

Ethan Destroys Mark's Van with a Bat

BEYBLADE NUTBALL

We Turned our Bodies into Art

Drunk College Party Simulator

Doing Each Other's Makeup in the Dark

The Candy Bra Challenge

A Bear Attacked Us in the Middle of the Night

Too Many Pickles

Making an Indoor Tornado to Flex on Mother Nature

2 Adults Take a 4th Grade Math Test

We Took the Polar Plunge

Brick Soccer

Only ANNUS-es May Watch This Video

Blood Bath

Ethan Kidnapped Mark

How to Rescue a Cat from a Tree

Literally Finding a Needle in a Haystack

Only Watch from 2:15 to 6:11 --- DO NOT WATCH ANY OTHER PART OF THIS VIDEO

Team Building for 2: Trust Fall, Tug-of-War, and More!

Building IKEA's Hardest Piece of Furniture Without Instructions is Impossible

How Many Slaps Does It Take to Cook a Chicken?

Floating in a Real Sensory Deprivation Tank

Ethan Teaches Mark How to Swim

We Eat Bugs

Accepting the Truth

The Annual Unus Annus Dunk Contest

Grip Strength Test: Loser Becomes the Winner's Butler for a Day

7 Minutes in Heaven | 7 Minutes in Hell

Help Us Break a YouTube World Record

Becoming One with the Horse

Mark and Ethan Go on a "Drum Date"

Bobbing For Apples But the Water Keeps Getting Thiccer

Who Can Teach Their Dogs a Trick the Fastest?

Mark Knows What Ethan Did...

We Buy a Professional Hypnosis Video and React To It

Mark and Ethan Learn About the Human Body

Tearing a Phone Book in Half with Our Huge Manly Muscles

How to Escape from a Hostage Situation

Being Attacked by a Fully Trained Bodyguard Dog

Puberty Simulator

Breaking Glass With Our Screams

Dunking Oreos In Literally Anything But Milk

Hydro Dipping A Baby

Attempting to Build IKEA Furniture Without Instructions

Can You Bake a Cookie from Cookie Dough Ice Cream?

The Bad Kind of Cupping

Ethan Explores Mark's Haunted Basement

Would Chica Save Us From Drowning?

Was 2020 a Bad Year for Unus Annus?

Shooting Archery ON A HORSE

This is For FUN and NOT a Fetish

Mark Teaches Ethan Korean

Building the World's First IKEA Boat

Purging Our Sins with a Neti Pot

Discussing the Idea of Murdering Each Other but it's Just a Joke and Definitely Not Serious Haha

Momiplier Teaches Self-Defense

The 1st Annual Unus Annus Roast

Mark and Ethan Share a Drink

The Barrel - Official Music Video

Popping Popcorn with a High-Powered Laser

Is Mark a Masochist?

We Wrote a Hit Pop Song in 30 Minutes

We Attempt to Make UNHOLY Water

We Give Each Other Tattoos Blindfolded

The Ultimate Paper Airplane Showdown

Judging Your Terrible Unus Annus Ideas

Top 10 Worst Things Your Friend Could Possibly Spend Their Money On

3 Big Boys Attempt the King's Royal Fitness Test

Reddit 50/50: Two Player Edition

We Attempt Pottery Without Amy's Help

Mark and Ethan Build a Scarecrow

Learning the Ancient Art of Chinese Archery

Ultimate Horseshoes

This Video Went Completely Out of Control

Cryptid Olympics

Hot Dog'd to Death

Recharging Our Phones Using Only Brute Strength

Becoming a Master of Mime

Harnessing Our Dogs' Unlimited Energy

We Explore the Unus Annus Subreddit for Your Delicious Memes

Forcibly Turning Mark Into Santa Claus Against His Will

Literally Laying On Literal Broken Glass

The Good Kind of Cupping

Blowing Our Souls Into Some Hot Glass

Who Can Make Themselves Taller?

DIY Bed of Nails : OH GOD, PLEASE DON'T EVER TRY THIS

Mark and Ethan Summon a Ghost

The Great Meat Mistake

Recreating Ourselves as a Cursed Mannequin

DIY Wine

We Played Mad Libs and Ran It Through Google Translate

Bobbing For Literally Anything But Apples

Acupuncture Is NOT Painful

Mark Gives Ethan a HOT (stone) Massage

We Cryogenically Freeze Ourselves

Ultimate YouTuber Boxing Showdown

10 Miracle Products to Give YOU the Thiccest Jaw on Planet Earth

Dummy THICC for Dummies | A Tale of 2 Butts | Pushing Our Butts Even Further Beyond

We Attempt to Make Holy Water

Mark Steals Ethan’s Face

DIY Teeth

Our Perfect (and last) Valentine's Day

Mark Builds a Pillow Fort for the Very First Time

The Egg Smashing Game

Ethan Redefines Male Beauty

Learning to Breathe Underwater

The Great Ice Cream Cake Race

Preparing a 5-Star Meal for Our Youtube Famous Dogs

We Finally Drank Our DIY Win

2 Dirty Boys Wash Their Filthy Mouths Out With Soap

Professional Fire Cupping (Going Even Further Beyond)

Morphing Our Bodies Into Superhero Poses

Bad Bad Beans

We Hired a Real Hypnotherapist to Analyze our Darkest Dreams

This is Goodbye

God's Fitness Test

Edible Slime was a Mistake.

DO NOT TRY THIS UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES

You Breathe You Die

Long Hair, Do We Dare?

Mark and Ethan Desperately Try and Name a Single State in the USA

The Most Dangerous Shave

Two Male Men Judge Female Women on Their Beauty

5 Products to Grow Your Patchy Beard

How to NOT be the Perfect Boyfriend

Learn to Jump Higher in 16 Minutes and 16 Seconds

Playing Cards: The World's Deadliest Weapon

DIY Cheese

We Found Websites That the World Forgot About

Play-Doh Thanksgiving

Ethan Watches as Mark Achieves the Impossible

2 Men 200 Accents

1 Gallon of Jello Nearly Broke Us

Desperately Trying Not To Touch Our Faces

Mark and Ethan Milk a Goat

Edward Pumpkin Hands

Nutball Extreme: Taser Edition

The Unus Annus Space Program

Having an Adventure In VR Chat Because We Can't Go Outside

Using Google Maps to Find the Lost City of Atlantis

Mark and Ethan Desperately Attempt to Feel Something

Ethan Turns Mark into a Werewolf

Looking at Long Lost Memes

The Human Mop

An Extremely Sour, Not-At-All Sour Meal

Going on an Internet Scavenger Hunt

Making Soda With Literally Anything But Soda

Mark and Ethan Become United States Citizens

Consuming the World's Hottest Chip

Learning How to Lockpick (FBI Please Don't Watch)

We Made Fanart for Each Other

There's Something Horribly Wrong with This Picture...

Strange (and legal) Things You Can Do With Your Body After Death

Professional Fetish Scientists Rank the Best/Worst Fetishes of 2020

Recreating Childhood Photos

Fighting Fish to the Death in the Deep Blue Sea

Wikifeet: A Tale of 2 Tootsies

We Google Each Other to Find Our Darkest Forgotten Sins

The Worst Kind of Cupping

The End of Unus Annus is Almost Here...

Middle School Science Experiment Teaches Us About Life and Death

Momiplier Tells Us True Scary Stories from Korea

Making Snow Cones With Literally Anything But Normal Flavors

We Have the Best Bellies on Youtube

We Ate Dog Treats So You Don't Have To

Becoming the World’s Greatest DJ's

Our Fans Try to Scare Us with Their Homemade Creepypasta

DO NOT OPEN UNTIL 2080

You Made Beautiful Music for The Barrel... But Only One Could Win

The Deep End of Omegle: Risky Boogaloo

The 1000 High Five Challenge

What is the Least Viewed Video on YouTube?

Mark and Ethan Find the Lost City of El Dorado

The Creepiest Videos on Youtube

DIY Minesweeper

This Is Hiding On Your Body RIGHT NOW.

Running Internet Drama through Google Translate

Will We Break the Boards... Or Will They Break Us?

Speed Reading 1000+ WPM to Gain a Complete Understanding of All Human Knowledge

This Video Will Never Make Sense

Unus Annus Carves the Roast Beast

Making Our Own Gravestones to Prepare For Our Inevitable Demise

Mark's 1 Weird Talent Leaves Ethan Absolutely Speechless

Mark and Ethan Get a Full Body Scan to See What Secrets Lay Hidden Within (and learn their body fat)

Learning to Use The Force

Making the Ultimate Unus Annus Burger

The Scariest True Stories on the Internet

Mark and Ethan Bet Everything on a Wikipedia Race

Giving Away Our 1,000,000 Subscriber Gold Play Button

Amazon Shopping for the Apocalypse

The Chubby Gummy Challenge

Unus Annus ASMR

Phasmophobia in Real Life

Mark and Ethan Shave Chica

Does This Magnet Skincare Routine Really Work?

Ethan Roasts Mark for 15 Minutes Straight

We Bought a Camera That Can Look Inside Us

Reading YOUR Scariest True Stories

How Much Caffeine Does It Take to Kill a Man?

An A.I. Predicts How We're Going to Die

Emotional Pain vs Physical Pain... Which is Worse?

We Smell Every Smell

Tasting Weird Food Combos : Pickles and Chocolate? Ice Cream and Soy Sauce?

Bleachus Annus

Can Sound Therapy Heal All Wounds?

Ethan's Relaxing and Totally Normal Nail Salon

Can Plants Feel Pain?

We Have The BEST Thumbnails on YouTube and No One Can Tell Us Otherwise

We Put an Apple Watch in a Rock Tumbler

Whom Would Eat Whomst First in a Zombie Apocalypse?

2 Complete Amateurs Enter a Body Building Competition

We Do It Better Than Icarus Ever Could

Mark and Ethan Take a Personality Test

Learning to Cry on Command to Increase Our YouTube Views

What Happens When a Youtube Channel Dies?

Don't Go in the Ocean... Ever.

Finding the Most Cursed Image on the Internet

Pumpkin Taste Tier List

The Unus Annus Confessional Booth

2 Boys 2 Poops

How Far Can We Chuck a 16lbs Rock?

We Took an IQ Test

We’re Better Than Dogs

Amy Sent Us a Mystery Box

How Big Can a Nuke Get?

There's Still Hope...

What Does Astrology Say About Our Friendship?

Where in the World is Unus Annus?

Mark is Guilty. Ethan has the Proof.

How Tall Can A Human Get?: An Impartial Review by 2 Average Height Men

Mark and Ethan Hunt The World's Most Wanted Criminals

Bored? Press This Button.

The Illuminati... Do They Really Exist?

Harnessing Our Yodeling Power to End The World As We Know It

Ethan Traps Mark's Soul in the Palm of his Hand

5 Weird Apps Predicted Our Death

Are Reptilian Humanoids Living Among us?

An A.I. Generates Our Worst Nightmare

Bigfoot is Real and It Ate My Friend

This is How We'll Die...

Like It or Not... This is What The New Human Looks Like

Pumpkin Spice “Challenge”

Discovering the Secret to Eternal Life

Will AI Soon Take Over Humanity as we Know It?

Hacking into the Very Fabric of the Universe

Reverse Engineering a Kite to Steal the Idea of Electricity From Benjamin Franklin

Granting Access into Heaven's Sweet Gates

We Explore the Most MYSTERIOUS Mysteries of our Wildy Mysterious Mystery Moon of Mysteries

Are We Already Dead?

[txemrn]

Pour Two Glasses

Chapter 5: "... Wake Me Up When It's Over..."

Need to catch up? Masterlist

✨ Have you checked out this teaser video yet? Pour Two Glasses Teaser✨

Word Count: 3935 (+/-)

Series Synopsis:In the midst of a violent political war, Queen Riley Rys’s life is dismantled overnight, forcing her to flee Cordonia to live in hiding as a commoner with a loyal, best friend

Series Song Inspo: “Pour Two Glasses” by the Movielife

Chapter Song Inspo: "Wake Me Up" by Tommee Profitt ft. Fleurie (Avicii cover)

Series Warnings: 🔞 For Mature Audiences Only 🔞angst; profanity; major character death; grief and mental health discussion; discussion of violence & war; alcohol use; NSFW material

A/N: Characters and some plot references belong to our friends at Pixelberry. Big projects like this often takes a village of cheerleaders, barnstormers, listeners and readers. I am so blessed to have such a supportive village--huge thanks to y'all for making this story come to life! This was not beta'd, so please excuse my errors.

A/N 2: It's been a while, so how about a quick review? *clears throat* Previously on Pour Two Glasses... Sensing her need to be close to her husband, Drake coordinates for Riley to sleep each night of Liam's Royal Wake next to his closed casket; he also gives her a necklace to wear that holds Liam's wedding ring and signet ring; Riley and Drake have a heart-to-heart, which included the intimate story of the promise Liam and Riley made to each other: a promise to "pour two glasses"; after the funeral, a member of the 'Les Combattants de la Liberté' (the same coups that shot down Liam's plane) opens fire during Liam's funeral procession in an attempt to assassinate the queen. Despite Drake's efforts, Riley is shot.

~🖤~

"Ahhh! Fuck!" Drake grimaces, holding pressure to his left arm as blood seeps violently from his fresh bullet wound. Sucking in a sharp breath from the pain, he glances to his right where he had pushed Riley down, and hopefully out of the way.

Her body lies completely still as a pool of deep rouge grows from under her petite, lifeless frame.

"Brooks?" He stretches his neck in hopes of a glimpse of her face, but the abrupt shock of sharp torment in his shoulder knocks the air from his lungs. Anxiously panting, he glances back at Riley, realizing she remains motionless to the sound of her name. “Fuck,” he mutters. “Riley!” He frantically searches for a way to get closer to her. He peers at his injured shoulder and his crimson-stained fingers, weighing the options that don't exist on borrowed time that has already expired.

He grabs the collar of his shirt, bunching up the material in his palm before biting down on it. He rolls onto his stomach, his screams of torment muffled into his makeshift gag as he gnashes his teeth. With his good arm, he army-crawls on his side, pulling himself across the pavement with his elbow. The balls of his feet push to propel him, all the while he moans in agony.

His body finally gives out from the misery. "Brooks? Brooks?" He gruffly pants. He lays flat on the ground, reaching to her sprawled out hand with his unaffected arm. He nudges against her skin, but she doesn't move. His fingers find her wrist; he feels a weak, slow pulse.

"Goddammit!" Drake cries out in pain as he sits himself up. "No–no–no… Riley!" Groaning in anguish, he single-handedly pulls her body to himself, propping her head up in his lap. He tenderly peels the blood-drenched wisps off of her cheeks and forehead. Her head suddenly lolls back, her neck extended across his thigh with her pale lips agape. "Riley!" Tears flood his eyes, "No…" Surveying her body, he notices two bullet wounds to her left shoulder near her chest. 

Near her heart.

Drake turns to the other guards that are tending to a few critically wounded people in the otherwise desolate courtyard. "We need help over here!" He cradles Riley's head as he watches the color drain from her face. "Don't do this, Brooks,” he growls, “Don't you dare fucking do this.” He sobs angrily, gripping firmly to the fabric of her dress. "You can't leave me, too…"

------

A crisp gentle breeze catches her brunette waves in a delicate waltz of silk and sunshine. The softness of the evergreen grass tickles her toes as she ventures through the fragrant blooms. Somewhere amongst the fresh harvest of Cordonian rubies, a handsome melody echoes across the meadow, a deep baritone that Riley instantly recognizes.

“Liam?” Her steps begin to quicken as she searches behind the bark and the bend. “Liam?” Her voice is earnest and hungry as her widened, ocean-blue eyes survey the area for even just a glimpse of his beauty. She grips the sides of her skirt, lifting the hem to her hips as her feet become more swift amongst the uniform rows of bountiful trees.

As she approaches a knoll, a large shadow grants her body brevity from the warm sun. She brings a hand to her forehead, shielding the brightness from her eyes. She strains to make out the broad shapes and chiseled lines of the man standing before her, but she knows it's him. His eyes shimmer with the brilliance of the Mediterranean, his skin like the soft sands of Nissi.

“My love,” he smiles endearingly at her; he cups two filled wine flutes in one large hand as he extends his arm out towards her, his open palm ready to take her into his arms.

“My king,” she breathes, her heart swelling at the very presence of him. She drops her skirt. She draws closer to him as a smile brightly bubbles across her lips. It’s him; it’s really him.

But as their fingertips almost touch, Riley missteps. She trips over an imperfection in the terrain as she falls to her knees, her hands catching her on the ground. As she looks back to her husband, he is gone.

“No,” she whispers as she frantically scours the rolling hills around her. Empty. Not a single trace of life. Riley is alone. “No–no–no… Liam?”  She spins wildly around, searching for him. But suddenly, she hears an ear-piercing crackle like thunder.

And then another. 

A searing pain abruptly burns deep into her shoulder and chest, knocking her off her feet. The impact of the fall robs her of the air in her lungs. In a state of panic, she begins gasping for air, but the rise and fall of her chest makes her whimper, tears collecting in her eyes. 

"Liam?" She tries to scream, but can only muster a rough whisper. "Someone? Please?"

Riley tries to sit up, but an intense scorch of discomfort stuns her to lay back amongst the long blades of grass. Her mouth falls open from the sensation, but only silent sobs pour from her lips.

With a trembling hand, she carefully touches her fingertips to the painful area of her chest. Biting her lip to stifle her screams, she feels a thick oozing of warm fluid escaping her shoulder, flowing between her fingertips.

Blood.

"Help," she strains, but her words falter as her eyelids fall heavier with each blink. 

She hugs her body with her other arm as the breeze suddenly feels frigid against her pale skin. Her breathing becomes more rapid, each inhale growing laborious, more challenging than the last.

'Anyone?' Riley mouths as she grows still. The light in her eyes falls dim, her lashes fluttering as they begin to close.

Stillness.

Darkness.

Suddenly a large, calloused hand squeezes tightly to her petite weak fingers.

"Brooks," a deep, trembling whisper calls to her, "it–it's going to be okay, baby. Hang in there." A sense of relief rushes over her; hearing the familiar gritty voice comforts her, grounding her back with reality.

Riley can hear a soft shrill of metal on metal from squeaky wheels underneath her. She feels a light current of air swishing across her body as if she is being moved rapidly. The pungent smell of medical-grade antiseptic with the slight undertone of decay hits her nostrils, reminding her instantly of the night she had to identify her husband’s remains.

She tries to speak, but her mouth refuses to move; even her whimpers fall silent, unable to get anyone’s attention. She tries to grip onto the hand that is holding her fingers, but despite her effort, nothing moves.

As she relaxes her body, an excruciating pain suddenly penetrates through her torso, an inexplicable affliction of torment tearing through every last nerve, leaving her senseless, breathless, motionless.

An abrupt alarm of rapid analog chimes begins to whistle.

"Heart rate 152. We need to move, people…"

Riley's eyes flicker open to blurred fluorescent lights, flashing obnoxiously into her field of vision. She hears a twisted garble of concerned voices around her, but can barely make out the faces of the strangers surrounding her.  

"Hang another liter of NS. Go ahead and draw up fifty of hydromorphone…"

"...BP 88/42…"

"... prep OR six…"

"... order four units of O neg…"

The swift movements around her makes her stomach turn as the searing discomfort ravages throughout her chest. She grimaces, her eyelids shutting at the furrow of her brows.

Suddenly, she feels a pinch, like a tiny sharp prick of pressure pushed into the swell of her thigh.  A warming sensation follows, infiltrating through the area before finally swimming briskly through her body.

"Hydromorphone with Phenergan 25 in…"

The room begins to swirl into nothingness, the chatter falling into silence. Her hand falls limp, no longer able to feel Drake's tight grip on her fingertips. No more background noise; no more strange smells. Like falling into the deep end of the ocean, a single, high-pitched shrill rings incessantly in Riley's ears as she flails her arms and legs into the blackness. She finally clenches her eyes shut, terrified of the loneliness, terrified of the struggle, terrified of the emptiness.

Stillness.

Darkness.

Until a warm glow grazes her skin.

A gentle caress of her cheek leads to a tender stroke of a thumb across her full bottom lip.

Riley's eyes cautiously flit open.

And she gasps.

"Liam?"

------

"Sir, this is as far as you can go."

Though he understands hospital safety protocols, Drake scoffs as Riley's hand is pulled away from his grasp. An abrupt loneliness tugs at his heart as he watches the gurney rapidly wheel down the white sterile hallway. As his left arm hangs limp, Drake drags his fingers down his face, swallowing a sob. Will this be his last memory of her alive?

He feels his chest begin to dramatically rise and fall, his breathing becoming quicker as his expression contorts into remorseful anger. He was supposed to protect her. He promised her–shit, he promised Liam that he would look after her, and now Riley is fighting for her life.

As Drake's jaw trembles, a petite hand tenderly pats his unaffected shoulder. He jerks around to find a familiar raised eyebrow, her piercing jades sympathizing instantly with his downcast stare. “Liv,” he whispers, a crooked smile flashing across his lips as his face twists with emotions. “You’re… here. You’re… you're okay,” he chuckles into a choked cry.

Noticing the sincerity of his tone, Olivia Nevrakis’s typical stone-cold presence melts into something more human and warm.  She smirks, holding her arms outstretched. "Come here, big guy," she snickers, waving him into her embrace. “You know that even rogue militant coups can’t get rid of me that easily.” The longtime friends squeeze each other more snuggly; though they might not always see eye-to-eye, they silently gesture in agreement that life is better together.

“Christ on a Kraken! Riley is never going to believe this.”

Drake turns towards the cheerful, flamboyant voice. He casually tosses his head to the side, his chestnut fringe cascading out of his field of vision. The corners of his mouth curl, grateful to see the youngest Beaumont brother alive and well with no obvious injuries.  

"Hey, man," Drake reaches out to take Maxwell's hand, pulling him into a brotherly embrace.

"We were so worried. I thought you were dead," his breath hitches in his chest, "and–and Riley…" The young lord succumbs to his tears, unable to speak. Drake endearingly pats his friend on the back as he flashes a knowing look to Olivia.

"I'm fine, Max," Drake mutters, signaling for him to let go. 

"Have you even been seen by a doctor yet?" Maxwell looks at the crimson gore, dried across the guard's once pristinely pressed suit.

"Not yet. I–" he freezes as he peers down the now empty corridor, the last place he saw her, the last place he touched her. The last place he felt her life in his own hands. A large lump forms in his throat as the horrific scene plays in his head.

The definitive cocking of the chamber of a glock; the smell of smoke and blood in the air; the unraveling of fearful screams of hopeless onlookers… 

"Riley! Look out!"

He tried to shield her; he tried to protect her. He tried to save her.

Was he too late?

The queen's guard shakes his head, staggering away from his friends, willing the sting of his tears away. He already lost his very best friend almost a month ago; he can't lose Liam's wife, too.

"She's strong, Walker–"  Drake stops in his tracks, turning to the fiery red head that fell into step with him walking down the hallway. He leans up against the wall, shoving a hand in his pocket as his head falls forward in anguish.

"I just… I feel so fucking guilty, ya know?” he mutters under his breath. “I was supposed to be there for Liam–I should’ve been there with him, and Riley?" He looks away, blinking away tears. “It should’ve been me–"

"No," Olivia interjects sternly. "Don't go there. You are not responsible for his death. And Riley?”  She takes Drake’s face between her palms, commanding his attention to focus on her words. "She will survive this–'

"I should've been there–"

"And you were," she interrupts. "Drake, she would've been killed if you hadn't intervened when you had."

"You saved her life, man," Maxwell tearfully steps forward, holding out a cup of coffee for the guard. "She's been through a hell of a lot worse." They all chuckle knowingly with one another. "She's going to survive this," Maxwell states encouragingly as he dabs away his tears.

Olivia nods in solidarity, looking towards Drake. "She will."

Drake stares at his styrofoam coffee cup before bringing it to his lips. "She has to," he breathes before taking a sip.

"Cmon, buddy," Maxwell's mouth begins to curl as he slaps Drake on his wounded shoulder. "Let's get you checked out–"

"Ow!" Drake roars, "Limp dick motherfffff–!" Drake bites his tongue as he shields his arm.

"Oh, there he is," Olivia snickers to herself, taking a seat in the waiting room. "I was concerned he left his balls next to his snuff in the back pocket of his Wranglers."

—---

Tangled in sheets of silk, Riley cradles Liam's head against her bare chest. He kisses tender pecks along her velveteen skin, her fingers mindlessly combing through his golden waves. 

Coming down from their euphoric bliss of making love, the gentle warmth of intimacy saturates the air. A soft hum escapes Riley's lungs as she is overwhelmed with the desire to cry streams of joy. To be at peace again. To feel whole again. To be herself again.

This is perfect. Too perfect. Riley had craved for weeks now to have just one more moment, one more breath with her beloved. And now…

Is this really happening? 

She presses her lips into his disheveled, blond hair, breathing in his intoxicating scent. His fingertips graze across her shoulders and down the slope of her full breast, his familiar touch igniting a scattering of goosebumps across her body. But when Liam looks up at her with his hungry gaze, his crystal blue stare that rivals the Northern Lights, relief floods her senses.

I'm home.

Biting her bottom lip, Riley guides her husband up her body until he's lying face-to-face with her, their longing stares never breaking from one another. She delicately traces the angles of his jaw, the contours of his neck until finally resting her palms in the scatter of hair on his chest.   

She rests her head against his body, her fingers lacing with his.

"Liam," she exhales as she listens to the rhythmic pulse of his heart. "I've missed you." Her words softly shudder against her stifled sobs, tears coursing down the curve of her nose. She nuzzles her forehead into him, wanting to be closer, deeper with him, thirsty to drink every last drop of him.

"Please tell me this is it," she flutters her eyes close, his large hands draped across her back. "Please tell me this is where our forever starts."

Feeling his piercing stare on her, Riley instantly meets his mouth in a searing kiss. She slips her tongue between his full lips as the passion continues to burn between them. 

Riley guides him to lay on his back, straddling his broad physique as their tongues continue to caress in steady pulses. She nips at him, coaxing for more.  Gently rocking her hips, Riley sits up on her husband, his length pushing against her slick folds. Taking his large, rugged hands in hers, they cup her peaking breasts, fondling them together.

"I love you," Riley moans into the darkness as her desire builds for her husband once more. 

But then she stops.

She looks back to Liam's handsome face. And a sudden chill runs down her back.

He didn't say, 'I love you'...

"Love," Riley grips one of his hands, bringing it to her lips to kiss. "Is this okay? Are–are you okay?"

He doesn't answer.

An uncomfortable coldness floods her veins as a familiar burning sensation grows in her lower left shoulder.

"Liam?" She shakes his body. "Liam baby, please," her eyes begin to water, "please talk to me." 

Riley glances around the dark room; it looks like their royal quarters, but deep in her heart, she abruptly knows she's far from home. 

And far from Liam.

And like an old film reel, the fantasy around her begins to burn away, slowly at first as a blinding light pierces through the darkness.

"This… this isn't real, is it?" She trembles, bringing his hand to her heart. "Please, baby…" the room becomes stifling as Riley begins to gasp for air, her husband’s touch nothing but a phantom pain. "Please don't leave me again…"

Suddenly, Riley feels like she's choking as a soreness forms promptly in her throat.

"That's it, your majesty," the assured voice of a stranger calls out to her. "We're done with your surgery. Take some nice big breaths for us."

Riley barely peeks through her heavy eyelids, but her stormy blues are instantly met with the brazen shine of surgical spotlights. And she grimaces, discomfort etching across her delicate features.

"Good job. Take another breath."

The queen can feel something weighted and quite warm being folded across her frigid body. Suddenly, she feels soft fabric engulfing her toes, then her feet.

Where am I?

"Let's get you some Fentanyl and the rest of your Zofran for the ride, your majesty."

Abruptly to her arm, she feels a twinge of heat expanding in her veins, traveling first to her shoulder before dispersing across her body. The panic that was building in her nerves subsides as she relaxes into a subtle snore. And then into nothingness all over again.

—---

"Rise and shine, little blossom…"

Hearing the muffled, yet familiar whisper of her dear friend, Riley cautiously opens one eye. But in an instant, she closes it. Her eyebrows knit together, the burn from the bright sunlight too much for her right now.

“Max?” She croaks softly, her lips dry and cracked. “Maxwell?” She makes a small effort to move, but a sudden ache knocks her back onto her bed. She mouths the word ‘Ow’ as she slowly reaches up towards her injured shoulder with a trembling hand. 

“Shhh, Riley,” Maxwell tenderly pats her arm. “I’m gonna go get someone. I’ll be right back.”  With a squeeze of her fingers, Maxwell takes off to the nurse’s station.

Feeling the agonizing pulse in her left shoulder, Riley tries to open her eyes again.  Everything remains a blur as her eyes dart to the glass door. Two large men stand just outside the windows like perfect statues on either side of the frame, wearing what appears to be… guard uniforms?

“Drake…?” She tries to call out, assuming he's one of the men, but the hoarseness of her voice silences her attempt as she winces at her sore throat. Where am I? She frantically peers around her bed, noticing a collection of monitors and clear bags of fluids, all attached to her body with various cords and wires. 

What happened?

Riley’s head feels a bit swimmy, dizzy from the heavy medications she has been given, not to mention the anesthesia slowly dissipating from her body. She was trying to put the puzzle pieces back together, fact versus fiction. Each part played like a vignette in her memory. 

Laying in bed with Liam… The airplane crash… Giving herself a progesterone shot... Sneaking into the church with Drake…  Dancing at the award ceremony.  Gunshots…

Had it all been a dream?

Suddenly, her eyes widen with realization, wishful-thinking blooming across her face. It was a dream.  Noticing a big red button on the bed with the word ‘Nurse’, Riley frantically presses it. A jolt of hope bursts within her chest. 

It was just a dream– a terrible dream– but just a dream.

The sliding glass door to her ICU room hurriedly rolls open, an older nurse with peppered short hair hurries in with Maxwell hot on her tail.  “Well, well… look who’s finally awake!” She smiles kindly, her hazel gaze sparkling with genuine joy. “Your majesty, my name is Vangie, and it has been an honor to care for you through your recovery–”

“Recovery?” Riley looks to Maxwell with curiosity.

“You have two nurses that have been assigned to specifically care for you per the guard's protocol,” Maxwell informs as he takes a seat next to Riley’s bed, gently grabbing her hand. “Vangie here is your night nurse, and she has been incredible.”

Riley turns to the nurse, giving her an uncertain half grin before giving her attention back to Maxwell. “But… what is going on? Why–why am I here?”

Maxwell grips tightly to her fingers, a pensive-look crossing his features.  “You’re in the hospital, Ri. You had surgery–”

“Surgery?” 

“Yes, your majesty.” Vangie finishes administering medications into Riley’s IV before glancing back to her queen. “You’re quite lucky, actually.  You lost a lot of blood, and it was touch-and-go our first night together, but you have pulled through nicely–” her pager suddenly beeps, a slight annoyance flashes in her eyes. “My apologies, your majesty,” she bows, “I need to take this.”

Riley gently nods, offering a soft smile before turning back to Maxwell. He sweetly leans over her, resting his elbow on her bed as he pushes away stray hairs on her face.  “I’m so glad you’re finally awake. I've been so worried.”

Riley’s eyebrows furrow, an expression of confusion falls over her as she glances around the room. “Maxwell, I–” she cinches her eyes closed in frustration, “how long have I been out?”

“A good part of three days.” His words drip with worry, “They said the injuries you sustained were pretty severe, but thank God, one of the bullets missed your heart by two millimeters–”

“Bullets?”

Maxwell pauses inquisitively. “You don’t remember much, do you?” 

Riley chews on her lip, shaking her head.

“That’s honestly a good thing,” he sighs heavily.

“Max,” she softly pleas, “please… tell me?”

Maxwell sits up in his chair, combing his fingers through the relaxed style of his hair. “Ri, you just woke up. I think you should get some more rest before we dive into what happened. Heck, Olivia and Drake will be back in the morning, and we can–”

“--and Liam?”

Maxwell freezes, the color draining from his face at the mention of his dear friend and king.  He swallows thickly. “Wh–what about him?”

“Is he–?” She presses the heel of her hand against her forehead. “I must sound like a lunatic,” she chuckles anxiously, “but… it’s all bleeding together, these thoughts in my head spiraling and mixing reality with fantasy. I feel like when I’m awake, I’m dreaming, and when I’m dreaming, I’m awake, and–I mean, I just…” She tosses her hands on the bed, another titter escaping her throat as tears prick her eyes. “The airplane crash, the funeral, his casket… please tell me the truth.”

Maxwell’s breath hitches, causing a sobering chill to overwhelm Riley.  Of all the images flashing through her mind–the morgue, champagne in the orchard, his wedding ring on a necklace–she had hopes that maybe–just maybe– the worst of them all was actually a nightmare, that maybe Maxwell can ground her back into reality, that maybe—

“My husband… ?”

A wave of sorrow pours onto Maxwell's features as his ever-optimistic expression drains. And he shakes his head.

It wasn’t a dream. 

~🖤~

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------

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 1/5

Book Blurb:

In this warm-hearted debut rom-com, a young woman returns home to run her family’s casket business and falls in love with a seemingly perfect stranger. But there’s just one problem . . . he works for Death. “A charming, original love story about grief. I loved it.”—Sophie Cousens, New York Times bestselling author of This Time Next Year Nora thought she was finished with Rabbittown, Alabama, for good. But an unexpected tragedy turned her life upside down, and she’s found herself back in her tiny hometown running the family casket business.

There aren’t exactly a lot of prospects for a single woman in her thirties in a place like Rabbittown. Until Nora Clanton’s ordinary, casket-selling day is interrupted by a handsome stranger wandering into her shop and asking for directions—as well as a date.

Garrett Bishop seems like the ideal guy. He’s thoughtful, he’s kind, and he has a lucrative job as a logistics coordinator, for which he seems to have a passion. She’s not totally sure what “logistics” entails, but she knows it means long hours, lots of travel, and urgent calls in the middle of the night.

When a few of Rabbittown’s residents suddenly pass away—a heart attack here, a car crash there—and Garrett is spotted at the scenes of, well, all of the deaths, his frustratingly vague job description starts to become increasingly . . . suspicious. What is it that Garrett actually does for a living?

He’s a logistics coordinator for Death.

When Nora discovers the truth, she is unable to reconcile the wonderful man she knows with the unthinkably cruel job he loves. Will she ever be able to understand how he can do what he does, or will she have to lay her best chance at love to rest? Casket Case is the heartfelt story of a small-town girl who feels surrounded by death—literally and figuratively. This clever, endearing, and romantic debut explores how love and loss are forever intertwined . . . but death might not be as scary as it seems.=

Review:

She's running her family's casket business but falling for a guy who is working for Death. Nora has unexpectedly found herself back home in her little town of Rabbittown... and working at her amily's casket business. Garrett Bishop seems like the perfect guy, he's sweet and has a good job... only he's hiding a secret and it's odd that his odd job behavior and the strange uptick in residents of the town passing away, has Nora's red flags up. What does he actually do and can she trust him with her heart? This was a small town romance that explores loss and dealing with death Unfortunately this one did not hit the mark for me, I really didn't care for the characters or the romance, despite how hard I wanted to like it. The premise made it seem like a book I would absolutely love but while reading it I just felt bored overall. Nora just didn't make all that much of an impression on me and I did not feel any chemistry at all between the two characters. The romance just didn't feel all that romantic and the story just felt "meh" for me unfortunately. If you do like small town romances that deal with grief and death, I'd say give this a go, maybe you'll have a better time with it than I did.

Release Date: September 10,2024

Publication/Blog: Ash and Books (ash-and-books.tumblr.com)

*Thanks Netgalley and Random House Publishing Group - Ballantine | Dell for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Love in a Ghost Town--Part 7: Seismic Shifts (Finale)

Eddie Munson’s become content with working his day job. After the crazy stretching of events from 1983-1986, Eddie’s grateful for a little bit of normal in his life.

That is until one day, Valeria Browns shows up in town looking for a quick car fix. And she’s more than he might’ve bargained for on the eve of Valentine’s Day. Valeria is just trying to enjoy her Valentine’s Day weekend after many years of being perpetually single. She has her fun, but it’s never serious. Maybe Eddie can change some of that.

Older!Mechanic!Eddie Munson. 2003 alternative universe. BlackFem! OC.

The Upside Down doesn’t exist in this fic. But strange things do happen to the town of Hawkins, Indianna. Major Character Death that is not canon as a result of the non-Upside Down AU.

This chapter is from Eddie's perspective.

CW: 18+ content (Smut, oral--male and femme receiving, p in v); Pregnancy (unplanned); implied/past alcohol abuse

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Edited Picture of Eddie by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

Feel free to review my masterlist here

______________________

Eddie can count the number of times he thought the next day was never going to be his. Exactly 5,844 days of thinking the next day won’t be his--it’s not that Eddie is counting lately. He promised that when he made the promise to Valeria he’d stop. For all the times he didn’t show up to algebra or trig, he’s lightning at multiplication. Never mind the fact that he did the math on a calculator to double check himself. It’s not necessarily counting when he realized the last day he counted the days that the days kept coming was after Valeria came back into town and dropped off exactly 350 dollars in fifties, twenties, and tens. He stopped counting because he didn’t want to know how long it would be until he found himself in her presence again. Too much of an ache when he realized his life felt too settled--or perhaps he felt settled on the fact that he would live and die by Hawkins in the long run and he would never get out--and this ultimately settling could rob him of something more. 

Eddie is selfish at times. He can admit that. It is a fatal flaw in his entire composition. He’d been selfish with Sinclair and his basketball years on the tail end of his final senior year by not always being flexible on Dungeons and Dragons sessions. He’d been selfish about Wayne’s funeral. Wayne told him to have just a small viewing and then cremate him. But Eddie spent what he had to give Wayne more. Eddie liked to tell himself he was doing his uncle proud--the mid range cost casket, the mid-range cost flowers. Nothing jaw dropping, but still more than Wayne said he wanted. Eddie felt like he couldn’t let his uncle go out in death remembered as the person who’d gotten too sick, spent too much money on not even getting better but rather only staying alive to afford anything else. The truth of it is simple. The funeral was for Eddie in retrospect. Wayne was always known around town as a good, decent, hardworking guy with a quick and quiet wit. But Eddie needed to see him go out with something more because it’s in that memory of Wayne’s body in a properly tailored suit, casket shutting on the still too young but hollowed face and lowered into the ground like good decent people go, that makes it easier for Eddie to sleep at night. 

And maybe this particular moment, staring at his ringing house phone, knowing exactly who it is to call him at such a time in the evening, that Eddie’s hesitation to answer is self-preserving. There is a difference in being selfish versus knowing that the good thing is the scary thing and not choosing it. The difference is fear. The easy choices are made without much thought because there’s no need to question what comes after. The answer is already known. The answer comes like it’s supposed to. 

Eddie answers though. He could never preserve himself enough around her. He picks up the yellow receiver on the fourth ring and settles it against his ear. “Hey, Val,” he greets. 

“Hi, Eddie.” Her voice makes his innards feel like ice cubes melting in the summer heat. It’s not necessarily a rasp to her voice. But it is low, smooth in a way that makes Eddie feel warm on the inside. “How’d you know it was me?”

“When is it never not you?” Eddie returns, leaning into the wall. The yellow cord dangles around his legs. “I’m at a point where if it’s not you, it feels strange.” A confession--not that he hadn’t been trying to confess for a couple weeks now. He did miss Valeria and it didn’t shatter his whole day. It was an achy miss--a kind of longing he hadn’t really experienced since Wayne’s initial passing. Eddie couldn’t get enough of listening to Valeria in the evenings after work. He loved listening to her day; loved it when she asked about his day, picking up pieces of his job’s lingo. 

Eddie missed Valeria in a way that feels sometimes so pitifully simple. He wants to watch movies next to Valeria tangled up on a couch, her buried into his side and swatting at his chest when he gives unnecessary commentary to the film. He wants to hear her laughter not through a phone, and wants to see her smile again--when she’s not playing coy or caring about how big her smile is. Eddie just fucking misses Valeria. 

Lights fill the trailer. Eddie spins, listening to the rumble of a car cut out right outside his house. The curtains don’t fully shut out the light. When Eddie occasionally fell asleep on the couch, the thin barrier woke him before he really wanted to. “Can-can I call you back, Val? Someone’s outside I think and I’m not expecting visitors.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

“Thanks,” Eddie hums. “Hopefully it won’t take long.”

“Be safe.” 

“I will.” 

Eddie hangs the phone back up on the receiver and ducks towards the front door. It’s dark out so he can’t make out who it might be or the car all too well from the window. Right after getting the blinds and curtains settled again, a knock rings out from his door. There’s no hiding it anymore. He turns the knob and like a visage, some sort of hallucination that Eddie can’t separate out from reality, is Valeria on his porch. The hand still on the knob twitches. Eddie can’t make heads or tails if he’s close to swinging the door close or swinging it wide open. 

“Heard it’s someone’s birthday today,” Valeria offers. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Val? Is this even real?” Eddie’s own heart is thundering in his chest. He can feel it beating against his ribs. The edges of his vision blur for just a moment and then as Valeria speaks, his vision clears.

“I came to make a delivery.” From the top of her bag, she digs out a white envelope. 

“Don’t--no. No more money,” Eddie huffs, releasing the door to pull her up the steps. His hands are flying to shove the envelope back into the slightly unzipped bag. He’d nearly thrown the cash she gave him back into a new envelope to mail it to her, but her note specifically said otherwise. Eddie’s sure that if Valeria hadn’t said anything otherwise he would’ve sent it all back. But she knew him all too well. 

Valeria doesn’t resist Eddie’s work. She just pulls the tickets back out. “I heard there’s a show up in Indy tomorrow. Thought you might be interested in going.”

Eddie watches more closely now as she pulls the envelope back out and flips the lid. She produces two tickets. Eddie is gobsmacked. He’d been trying to get tickets--it was a match up of different bands on the road together-- and had even asked Valeria if she’d be interested. She’d returned that she’d been stuck with a shift that she couldn’t shake. After that Eddie let go of the romantic notion of getting one more weekend with Valeria. Valeria had begged, though, for Eddie to still do something for his birthday. He’d gotten dinner with Harrington, Buckley, Older Wheeler, and Byers. He’s sure the kids would track him down after work tomorrow for something to do as well for his birthday. Eddie felt at peace with the idea of merely enjoying the antics when the kids came up to get him. He’d happily accept the love when it came from them, attempting to make good on his promise. He is sure that he would give them a hard time about it. But inevitably he’d take the kindness, even if Eddie still didn’t seek it. Seeking is still much too risky. 

“But the shop, I can’t--” Eddie counters. 

Valeria slips the tickets into his hand, curling his fingers around them. “Jeff will cover.”

“How--you don’t even…?”

“I talked to Robin and Nancy who talked to Steve, who talked to Jeff.” 

“I don’t know what I’m going to wear, Val. I can’t show up to this looking a mess,” Eddie teases. He wants to find something else--anything else--to rebut this act of kindness with. If he could come up with something more than who was going to watch the shop, he would. But in reality, Indy is only another two hours from here. The drive wouldn’t be bad. They could even visit some places around the venue if they wanted before the show. By the time it ended, it would be late, but not so late that the two hour drive back couldn’t be handled by one of them.

“Consider me your personal stylist for the evening,” Valeria whispers in retort. 

Her eyes--deep and warm-- hold him steady. Like she’s begging him to not put up the front. The thing is Eddie always would at least a little bit. He’d always front, but Valeria would always be able to break him down. The stiff October breeze cuts over Eddie’s arms and he’s reminded that they’re still on his front porch. The door to the trailer is still wide open. God only knows what sort of bugs have flown in possibly in all of this. Eddie pulls Valeria inside, shutting the door softly behind him, a click of the lock sealing them firmly inside. 

“You didn’t have to do this. How’d you get out of the shift?”

“I sacrificed some PTO before Thanksgiving in exchange with the assistant store manager. I bought the tickets months ago and then sort of worked backwards from there to get things all worked out.”

The living room feels more lived in as Valera slides out of her shoes and shucks her duffle back onto the single arm chair. The space exhales around her, like it too was rigid and waiting for her return. “You hungry?” Eddie asks, slipping the tickets onto the dining room table, next to his wallet and keys. 

As he’s spinning to face her, Valeria’s slipping into his space. Her socked feet slide ever so gently over the floors and her head’s falling into his shoulder. Eddie winds his arms around her body with ease. His inhale is deep--pressing the smell of something sweet without being floral still decorating her skin. He wonders if it’s the same Shea Butter lotion he noticed she used or something related to it. But God, he loves it. He missed the scent on his sheets. 

“Hey,” Eddie whispers against her temple. 

“Hi,” Valeria giggles into his neck. The sound sends a shiver up his spine. “I ate on the road.”

Eddie hears the words, but he focuses for just a moment on the way Valeria feels in his arm. She’d never been small by any means. From their first sighting Eddie was well aware of that fact. But she’s always been soft against him. Valeria’s firm still because not even years away from sports can take away what genetics bring to the table. Maybe even firmer now than what was there before. She’d mentioned occasionally tagging along with Chelsea to the gym, but it doesn’t sound consistent. And all Eddie can manage to do is pray that his fingertips can absorb this feeling--Valeria’s warmth. 

“Want something sweet then? I’m not much of a baker but Pillsbury does right by me each time.” 

Valeria shakes her head against Eddie’s shoulder. There’s no braids this time. Her last visit she’d had her hair a slew of them, parted into squares. Now the tressesses fall like corkscrews down to her shoulders. The roots are flatter, look gelled or sprayed down and then curl down from there. Eddie’s not sure how to describe it. But he presses his nose into the foliage of her hair and inhales yet again. 

“Are you sniffing my hair?” Valeria asks. Her voice is muffled now by the muscle of Eddie’s neck. 

“Maybe,” he whispers. He is. He’d do it again. He’d do it forever if he had the option. “It smells tasty. Maybe I should take a bite out of it. Hmm. Think it could be a tasty treat.”

Valeria’s laughter echoes. As she struggles back out of his embrace, all she can do is laugh and laugh and laugh. Eddie adores it. He feels the sound down in his toes. “My hair is not for consumption, sir,” Valeria teases, plopping down onto the couch. 

She fills the space, one arm resting up against the back of the couch. Valeria’s always spilled the space. But Eddie drinks in the sight, her sprawled out and laughing still. He could consume her. Not that he wants her selfishly, to have her so no one else can. But he wants her to swallow his heart in her arms. He wants to know the fullness in his chest like he knows the back of his own hands.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Valeria’s voice is soft, head ducked. Her hair--a dark brown with some honey highlights--covers her face like a curtain. Though she ducks her head, she still keeps her arms spread out. She still refused to fully stop consuming space. 

“Tell me. Tell me how I’m looking at you,” Eddie laughs, reclining into the table, arms folded across his chest. He swears his body will totally evaporate if Valeria actually answers him. And he knows when he demands it, she will. 

It’s silent for a moment. Her nails click--a nervous habit Eddie’s noticed. Valeria flicks her nails together when she’s gathering her nerves. This time her nails are painted a pearl pink with black spider webs across the fingers. Her middle fingers hold a spider though, a black window specifically given the red patch on the top. Eddie thinks--no, he knows--he wouldn’t mind getting caught in Valeria’s web. Hell, he probably already was. Everyone noticed it--Robin, Steve, the kids. They knew if Eddie didn’t talk to Valeria much the day before. He was a bit more clipped in his responses. Never actually grumpy, but never fully centered. Eddie always felt a little off kilter, like he hadn’t gotten enough rest by an hour or two, but knew he would still get through the day. 

Valeria looks up, a new resolve settling onto her face. It pulls her lips down just a little into a pout. Eddie knows it’s never actually in displeasure. Her face usually scrunches up when she’s displeased. It reminds him just ever so slightly of Erica--they were both books that didn’t have problems opening up. They advertised who they were without hesitation. But Valeria’s looking at him, eyes slightly glazed over. He can’t tell if they’re tears or not, but the thought that they might be immediately sets his heart thundering. 

Her words pin him back into his spot before he can push up and start over to her. “You look at me like you might love me. Like, love me differently than just friends do.”

Like you might love me. It was no question for Eddie though. He does love Valeria. He loves her more than he does the rest of his friends. He knew it a couple months ago. He didn’t want to say anything about it. Because it was ridiculous. They lived hours apart from each other. Neither one of them seemed to budge on making a move for more. Eddie didn’t want to leave the comfort of this town--even if it had caused him pain. Valeria most definitely wouldn’t be moving away from her friends to a town like Hawkins. 

“I’m too chicken shit,” Eddie replies. “Because what would happen if I did say I did love you? What would we do if I said when I told you when you came back in June that when I said I missed you I wasn’t just talking about missing you in a friendly way.”

“Too chicken shit,” Valeria laughs softly, pushing up from the couch. “But my question in return is would you choose me? You said before you couldn’t choose. That it’s too scary to choose because inevitably someone leaves.”

Eddie’s not sure why he thought with Valeria they could just ride the wave. Maybe before--when she’d only come back once. But now she’s back twice. She’d chosen Eddie twice now and he still hadn’t budged. “You always know what you want,” Eddie returns. It’s meant to be a joke, but something catches in his throat when he watches her face drop. 

“Do you know what you want? Are you ready to put in work? I feel stuck. All the time. And when I got unfortunately stranded, I realized I felt stuck because I was living this life on auto-pilot. After everything I’d done, seen, been through, going through the motions was just about keeping me alive, but wasn’t about me living. I want to live now. And I don’t know what that looks like, what it really means in the grand scheme of things. But I’d like to figure it out. With you. If you’re ready.”

That--that is the million dollar question. Is Eddie ready? Here, at thirty-eight, he felt like he should have a more readily available answer, but in the grand scheme of things, Eddie is still scared. He’s still the boy that lost his uncle--the last bits of family that felt like an anchor. He’s still the boy who got chased by this town, spilled blood for no real reason outside of other’s narrow beliefs. 

“I don’t know who I am if I’m not here,” he replies. “I don’t know what it means to leave this--the town, this life. What if I’m just lost once I leave?”

“Those questions haunt me too, Eddie. You think I don’t think for a second about what happens if I leave my friends behind. Who’s going to ride by my grandmother’s to check on her each Sunday if it’s not me? What do I actually want to do with my life besides what I’ve already been doing? I don’t have these answers. But I’m trying. I signed up for fucking ballet classes. I don’t know if you remember but my ass is maybe too big for a tutu. I am haunted by ghosts. That statement feels more literal than not sometimes. But what do I do if I don’t try?”

“Your ass is not too big for a tutu. I happen to think it’s the perfect size for one.”

“Not my point, Eddie.” Her eyes narrow. “You can be scared, but you can’t not try.”

One of her flaws. Valeria has a very specific view of the world. It’s not that she’s wrong. It’s just that she fails to account for how fucking hard this is. She fails to account for a perspective fully outside of her own. “You don’t get to dictate what I do and don’t do, you know? I’m terrified. As ridiculous as it may sound. But it doesn’t mean I don’t think about what could be. You don’t get to assume.”

Valeria rests her hand onto his forearm. She tugs and Eddie hadn’t even fully recognized how closed off he’d made himself until Valeria’s silently pleading for him to let her back in. “Then tell me. What do you think could be?”

“I think about waking up next to you, in an apartment or something in a city that neither one of us has history in. I think about standing over your shoulder as you cook. I think about how angry you’d be at me for getting something red mixed in with the whites and turning all my work shirts pink but how ultimately you’d tease that pink might be my color after all. I-I think about if just in the other room that we sleep if it weren’t filled with my guitars and records and your stuff, maybe you get back to softball. I think about what if it had a crib instead. And I think about how scared I am. How much I could fuck up a good thing in a blink.”

Valeria blinks. Her eyes swim and then cloud over. Eddie can only watch for a moment but it feels heavy and his arms fall unceremoniously at his sides like they are suddenly filled with lead. Valeria’s hand goes with the action. She nods, a laugh falling from her throat. “Got it, Eddie. Got it. Envisioning a whole family but still too chicken shit.”

“What about you? What are you envisioning?”

She takes a step back and Eddie takes a step forward, but she curls her arms under her chest. Oh, how the tables have turned. The saving grace is that Eddie’s not going to push and when he reclines back to the spot where he was, Valeria stays in the half step between them. Her voice is clear. “Effort.”

It stings. He thinks maybe it was supposed to, but she’s right. Even if she’s never totally subtle about it. “Nope, never one to mince words, huh.”

“Never will be,” Valeria returns. “Let’s see what you’ve got in your closet since you can’t show up a mess.” She nods her head down the hall and then starts for Eddie’s bedroom. 

He can only watch. Valeria’s arms are still folded, but she still carries on. Eddie hopes to God she waits for him. He wouldn’t dare call it a prayer, lest Valeria be the altar and the God he’s worshiping. But watching her, the sway of her hips, as she carries herself down the hallway more and more the darkness swallowing her, Eddie thinks maybe he should pray more often. Maybe he should get his fucking act together because no one can wait forever. But goddamn it, Eddie hopes Valeria does have the patience of a saint. That, Eddie realizes, is the truly selfish part. He wants Valeria to wait for him or at the very least come back to him. If she can’t wait, God, let her come back. 

“What do you think?” Eddie holds his arms out. The pants have been sitting in his closet for years now--leather didn’t really seem like it was having its moment in the 90’s or early two thousands, but he’d been too proud of all the work he’d done to save up for them. So they sat in the closet and Eddie yearned for a day to break them back out. He’s thankful to all hell he got them a couple sizes larger than he might’ve needed them. There’s very little stretch in the material--some, but not a lot. 

Valeria’s gaze is slow. She takes her eyes up his body. She has been the last hour of Eddie’s frantic flurry. Clothes flying out of his closet like a cartoon, Eddie hated almost everything he’s ever bought in his life. Occasionally, Valeria would give an impressed hum and then suggest what needed to change--bottoms that needed to go, jacket that was clashing. Now Eddie stands in his leather pants that he was sure would never see the light of day, and a white cotton button up that Eddie is sure was influenced by Robin. He unearthed his black cowboy boots from the corner of his closet to complete the ensemble. 

Now, Valeria’s gaze travels up and up and Eddie can only wait. His fingers tremble just a little and he wonders for a moment if the soft click of the rings is audible enough for Valeria. Eddie watches her eyes. He needs her eyes to lock onto his again. Ever since she walked into the bedroom, she’d kept herself tucked away, legs pulled up to her chest. Valeria chews on her bottom lip. Just look. Please. Just look at me baby, please. 

“You look good, Eds.” 

Her voice is soft and when her eyes finally lift, settling onto his, Eddie exhales. Her eyes sparkle just a little. Something floats still behind them--sadness or maybe something else, but in front of that is a spark. Just what Eddie needed. If he could keep that spark alive, he could keep Valeria. And it’s insane really. Eddie is insane--no two ways about it. He’s insane about Valeria and he’s insane to keep toying with her. But fear--damn fear is a strong motivator. But if he can keep the spark in her alive maybe it would buy him a little bit more time. 

“Oh, a nickname to the nickname. Damn, I must be special,” he teases. It’s not what he wants to say. He wants to beg. Ask Valeria not to let him go. Tell her that he just needs a little bit more time. But instead, he cracks a joke. Because that’s what he always does. It’s what always saves him. It’s the easy choice. 

Valeria scoffs, resting her chin on her knees. “You’re special alright. Certifiable some might say.”

“Then I wonder what it says about you?” He crosses the foot between his bed and closet to the edge of the bed. One knee falls into the mattress and Valeria watches him the whole way. “Don’t you think there’s something to be said about you too in all this?”

“Yeah, that I’m certifiable too.”

Eddie leans in, holding his weight up on one pressed down fist. He tucks a little bit of Valeria’s hair back behind her ear. “What are you wearing?”

“Jeans, corseted top. Boots. Nothing special.”

“Let me see. We can’t clash.”

Valeria snorts. “You’ll see tomorrow. Also, I think you should go with the leather jacket.”

“That’s a lot of leather going on in one outfit, don’t you think?”

“Some might say that occasional indulgence is doctor recommended.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to snort at Valeria’s comment, head dropping for a moment. As it does, he feels some of the hair he hadn’t gotten secured well enough in the elastic fall down. It doesn’t stand a chance though. Valeria’s moving the strands back behind his ears just as soon as they fall, palms pressing into his cheeks. Her nails--a perfect addition of pressure when she scratches lightly at his bearded jaw. Eddie’s stomach quivers at the touch. 

Eddie watches her tongue dart out to lick her lips. It’s hanging again between them--the tension. Eddie tilts her head back with just a gentle press of his palm. “Can I kiss you?”

He needs permission because it’s reckless. To tell Valeria he dream of what they could have--love, a family, and then to tell her that he won’t take the leap because he’s too scared is a coward’s move and it’s smothered in the stench of assholery to ask for more. Knowing he can’t give her what she wants. But still wanting it all. 

“You’ll want more.” It doesn’t sound accusatory as it falls from Valeria’s lips. It’s factual. Because Eddie will. He will always want more. 

“Is that a yes?” Don’t take what’s not given, but damn do I want you to say yes--the thought echoes and echoes until Valeria’s voice interrupts it. 

“I worked all day and then drove down. Rain check.”

There and gone. Eddie nods, smiling at Valeria. He thinks it might reach his eyes, but even he can feel how it may not fully reach either, like the corners of his mouth and eyes hit an invisible wall. “I’m sure you’re exhausted. My bed or the guest bedroom--your pick of the litter.” 

“Probably the guest room.”

“Probably? No one’s kicking you out, sweetheart. We can just cuddle, do face masks, kill the pint of vanilla ice cream I have if sugar cookies aren’t going to cut it.”

“You do not have a pint.”

“Go hop in the shower and find out then, hmm. I’ll teach you a thing or two about doubting me.” Eddie laughs and this time it does feel real as he pats her ankle. This time it feels like what they’ve always had when Valeria narrows her gaze but unfurls herself. This time it feels real when she smacks his ass. It’s a loud pop and Eddie’s not sure what stings more, her hand, his ass, or the lead in his chest. Just give me one more shot, he almost says. 

Eddie changes out of the outfit, tucking the items back onto their respective hangers. He knows Valeria won’t be terribly long in the shower. Tucked back into the sweatpants and tank, Eddie settles on the couch. The shower still runs, but Eddie can feel the buzz, the anxiety creeping up under his skin. He’s going to lose it all. Everything he had and what could’ve been is going to slip through his fingers. There’ll be nothing to catch it, not even a coffee table with a pint of ice cream and one spoon. 

“Where’s your spoon?” Valeria questions, freshly showered. Her skin still echoes with warmth that Eddie feels covering his arm. 

“Must’ve forgotten,” he laughs, but opens his mouth wider when Valeria holds out a spoonful for him to have. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she laughs. But that luck feels like it’s running out. 

____________________

It’s not a long drive to Indy. Eddie’s done it himself plenty of times in under two hours. He doesn’t even fuss for control of the radio. He’d rather listen to Valeria sing along to the songs, the Top 40 that she seems to keep on all the time. He’s sure that she must get tired of it. But he doesn’t get tired when she bounces in the passenger seat to Hey Ya. It’s maybe the second time it's been played since they started driving. It makes the drive that much more entertaining as Valeria chants, “What’s cooler than being cool? Ice cold!”

 Eddie joins in on the second call-and-response because he can catch just out of the corner of his vision, Valeria motioning at him. It's noon now, sun high above them. They’d stop to get lunch at a place Eddie enjoyed and then get dinner at a little mom and pop shop that Valeria recommended. An even and fair approach to the impromptu day trip. The middle is sort of up in the air. Eddie has some places he likes to frequent--the tattoo shop he’s gotten all his ink done at, a couple of record shops. Valeria vaguely mentioned wanting to stop at a few boutiques. It feels remarkably normal as the cracks in the window allow air to seep through. 

It feels remarkably normal, but Eddie knows that it’s not. Even as Valeria giggles at his stupid jokes over her plate of fries and a burger, Eddie knows it’s not normal. When Valeria drags Eddie into a boutique and he snatches a fun green dress and pleads for Valeria to try it on, it’s not normal. When Valeria saunters out in the dress, off the shoulder sleeves, ruffles, and cinched waist, and Eddie’s jaw drops, it is not normal. It’s not normal to feel his arousal in fingertips. It’s not normal to drop to his knees from the stool outside the dressing room. 

“You’re getting that. I don’t care how. You are getting that,” Eddie breathes. But this isn’t normal because Eddie knows that something between them is different. But he’s going to pretend that it is normal. Because he wants it to be normal. He wants what they’ve always had. 

Valeria takes a socked foot and presses her toes into his sternum. “Slow down there. Dress is sixty dollars. And I technically need one more size up.” 

In the reflection now of the mirror, he can see how the zipper is still undone. She got it partially up but it does look like a squeeze. “XL?” Eddie asks, dragging his fingers over the bone of her ankle. 

“1X actually. This one doesn’t stretch like I thought.” 

Eddie arches his brow, fingers now dragging over her calf. He should be more worried about standing. The leather pants will not hide anything. But he doesn’t care. This is about keeping the little piece of normal going that they have. His pride be damned. “I’ll go look for it.” 

“That’s if they sell plus sizes. I can normally get by on the extra large.” 

“I’ll go look, yeah?”

“Don’t do anything stupid, Eddie,” Valeria demands. She drags her foot down his stomach, pressing right over his crotch. There’s no hiding it—his erection. But the press of her foot is just enough. It should hurt and it does. But it hurts in just the right way. He groans—long and drawn out but he doesn’t care. 

“I am going to do so many stupid things,” Eddie whispers into her knee. But he doesn’t wait for Valeria’s response. Maybe she doesn’t even respond. He stands, careful to get her foot back to the floor and let her get stable. He prays this place has a 1X. He needs them to have that dress in the right size for her. 

He darts back to the rack where he saw the item. Small, small, extra small, medium, medium, medium, large, extra large, extra large. His breath stops in his throat. No 1X. “Excuse me, miss,” Eddie starts, trying to flag down the one person he spots behind the register. When they look up, Eddie smiles and lifts the dress. “Do you happen to have this in a 1X?”

The woman glances down at the item. The seconds are long and Eddie swears his heart is going to leap out his chest. His grip keeps tightening around the thin plastic of the hanger. “Hmm we don’t normally sell plus size here.” 

Of fucking course. 

“But I think that designer just recently expanded sizing, actually. She works directly with us so we try to make good sales. Give me just a second!” With that the worker flies off to a back corner. Eddie watches, hearing the scratch of metal over metal. He leans out and notices a longer rack of clothes—one that might be used to wheel loads of clothes to be stocked on the floor but aren’t themselves racks to shop off of. But her fingers are quick and then she lifts up the green dress. 

“Last one too!” the worker calls out. 

“I’ll take it.” Relief isn’t the right word to name what Eddie feels. His limbs feel like they’re floating and then suddenly drop back to earth. He hangs the clothing item back into the rack and begins digging out his wallet to meet the worker at the register. 

“One lucky lady,” the woman teases. She scans the tag before pulling the hanger out of the neckline. “How long have you two been together?”

Did it seem like decades to the outside world? There was no way others would be able to see how well they fit together, how natural the whole thing felt. What Eddie and Valeria had feels like lifetimes together. The reality is that they only had a few months, but there’s no way someone on the outside could see it. And even if someone could see it, there was no way that Eddie was going to burden some stranger about his own inability to get his life together. Eddie grins, “Feels like a lifetime but wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

Maybe it’s too soft how he says it. The girl looks up at him, a pout settling on her lips. “That is so sweet. God, I’d kill for a love like that. When it does come, you definitely have to hold onto it.”

Eddie can only nod, passing along the bills for the dress. All the words are dried up on his tongue because he knows. As much as he didn’t want to fuck things up with Val, he might have already. A dress wouldn’t save them. Maybe nothing would save them now. But Eddie takes the bag, a smile plastered on his face. “The right person will come around soon,” he offers. Just don’t fuck it up like me. There’s no need to break the illusion for her though. Maybe she’d already suffered enough heartache. Eddie does believe in love for other people. She’d find the right person soon. It takes hope. And effort, but hoping is so much easier. 

“Please tell me you didn’t.” Valeria’s laughter cuts through whatever rebuttal the worker had primed on her tongue. Eddie turns to see Valeria carrying the dress that was a size too small, glaring at him. Even though Valeria called the outfit simple, tried to shrug it off as something minimal, Eddie still couldn’t believe the sight in front of them. The royal blue of the top dazzles off her skin. The black jeans and boots only seal off the look in a way that when Valeria stands next to him, it makes him feel taller. Though she’s the one in the four inch platforms. 

Valeria shakes her head as she smiles. She places the dress back on the rack, by passing Eddie completely before facing him again. “Eddie, please. It’s your birthday not mine.” 

It takes him a moment to work his throat and mouth again--tongue drying a little out on him. Eddie shrugs. “My birthday was yesterday. It’s over now.” 

“No it’s not,” Val huffs. “It’s not over until this concert is over.”

Eddie holds out his bent arm. “Too late. It is done. Where to next?”

Valeria takes a gentle hold of his crooked elbow. “Your pick, birthday boy.” Valeria presses a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. Her lips brush against his skin as she whispers, “Record store?” 

Eddie slips his free hand around her fingers. It reminds him he’s alive, in the middle of a clothing store. He’s not gone yet. Neither is she. Valeria’s not gone either. “It’s a little far out. You sure there’s nothing else you want to see on this side while we’re out here. We could just walk around?” 

“Are you going to complain about your feet in those boots?” Valeria snorts. 

“These boots were made for walking,” Eddie returns, voice barely above a whisper. His nose brushes against Valeria’s forehead. This could be his. This could all be normal--for right now, it is. It is normal. And it is Eddie’s. 

“Sure, I guess. There’s a cool vintage shop I think around the corner. Maybe you’ll find some new rings.”

“Worth a shot.” Neither one of them moves for a moment, still pressed close together in their own bubble. But Valeria shifts, straightening up and that’s all it takes for motions to set off. They give their thanks and goodbyes to the worker. Valeria leads them to the vintage shop. The click of her keys on her hip and the heel of Eddie’s boot echoes. The sound precedes them. From the vintage store, back to the truck, to the record store, to the restaurant for dinner. There’s the click and clack of their synced steps. When the venue fills with chatter, others laughter bubbling around them, Eddie can still hear Valeria. Her breaths, the clink of her earrings when she bobs or turns her head. Everything is attuned to her. Because Eddie just needs to hold a little bit longer, a little bit tighter. 

Eddie takes her hand when the songs slow down, thumb rubbing over her skin. Valeria squeezes in return. This is all you could ever need, Munson. And just as the thought settles, he feels the ‘but’. It’s the undermine--the thing Eddie tells himself so he feels better about his lack of action. In reality, the ‘could’ should be replaced. This is all he needs, but he fails to act on it, to make it a reality. 

“...my drink? Edide?”

Eddie blinks, turning his head just a little to see Valeria looking at him, her lashes long and thick. The bass is still vibrating through the speakers. “What was that?” he shouts back to heard over the music.

“My drink,” she calls out. “Do you want the rest of it? I’m stuffed after dinner and the beer’s gonna disagree with me if I keep piling on more.” Her laughter just catches onto his eardrums. 

Eddie holds out his empty cup and nods. “I’ll see what I can do for ya.”

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want.”

Eddie shakes his head, unraveling his fingers from hers to take her cup and stacking it into his own. About half of it is gone already, it shouldn’t be too hard. But even Eddie will admit that he might not have space for it after the slice of apple pie at dinner. “That cup alone was half my water bill, it’s getting drunk.”

Valeria pats his stomach. “Don’t bust your gut though.”

“Ha ha,” Eddie returns. “A true comedian you are.” 

“I know!” Her smile is bright and Eddie catches it even in the dimmed lights of the theater. His face warms as if he were standing out in the sun on a summer day. His rebuttal catches in his throat and he can only manage an eye roll before slipping his arm around her shoulders. She tucks herself back into his side, arms winding around his waist in the process. It feels like a cocoon--the shared warmth of their bodies. Eddie never has to leave this. He can stay here, with Valeria’s breath tickling just a little at his neck, listening to bands he’s loved since he was a teenager. It’s all this moment needs. 

It’s an awkward shuffle out of the venue. Eddie doesn’t want to leave just yet, wants to soak in every last echoing sound of the instruments. Wants to feel his bottles rattle to a stop, but they’re at the start of the row just about and there’s some guys to Eddie’s left that turn and he knows they’re looking to get out. Valeria and Eddie should too. It’s still a two hour drive back to Hawkins. So he follows behind Valeria, climbing up the step. Once outside he stops, tugging on Valeria’s hand to pause her too and turns to stare at the building. They haven’t dropped from the curb just yet to head back to Eddie’s truck. The seal of the moment hasn’t been broken. Once they step out into the parking lot, the reality all comes back. But until then, the cocoon remains intact. 

“Not ready to go just yet?” Valeria asks. 

“Gotta soak it all in,” Eddie returns. Because it is one part ritual for Eddie just to take a few extra seconds to soak in the adrenaline, to let the thundering of his chest still slowly. Eddie tugs on Valeria’s hand. 

“Yes, Eddie?”

He tugs again and she steps in closer. Eddie’s faster, cupping her jaw with his palms to bring her in even closer. “Have I told you thank you?” He knows he hasn’t and as Valeria goes to speak, he’s already talking. Mouth moving faster than his brain at this point. The words are just falling. “Because thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chants, kissing her lips with each phrase. The kisses get longer and long. 

She had a piece gum at some point, Eddie can tell. Her breath minty against what should've been the bitter bite of beer. But Eddie doesn’t really care. He’s just lost in the softness of her lips. The way Valeria ever so tentatively lets Eddie lick up into her mouth and melts into his embrace. Eddie knows when Valeria pulls out of the kiss first, slowly and with pecks to soothe the separation, he’s going to thank her properly. Because that’s how the moment should be savored, down to the last drops on his tongue. 

“You’re welcome, Eddie,” she whispers against his lips. 

“Don’t thank me just yet. Haven’t thanked you properly yet.”

“Oh, I. No, I don’t--”

“Please,” Eddie interrupts, hands slipping from her face down to her waist. He continues on, soothing her sides. “Please,” he whispers. It doesn’t even sound like Eddie. The whine in his own throat sounds desperate and sure Eddie is desperate to have Valeria again, make her come undone on his tongue, his fingers, his cock. But he won’t push her. He’ll plead but whatever she says now will override any desire he has. 

“It’s two hours back to your place,” Valeria laughs. 

“You say that like I don’t know, sweetheart. But there’s motels around here.”

She shakes her head. “Gonna make you wait.”

Eddie groans, taking a small nibble at her plump bottom lip. “You fucking tease.”

“And I’m driving back.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Eddie barks out between tufts of laughter. “That’s not fair.”

Valeria takes Eddie by the back of his head and brings his gaze to hers. “Never said it would be.”

The words bring a shiver to Eddie’s spine. But all he can do is close his eyes on the shaky exhale. Never said it would be. Eddie’s not sure if it’s a threat or a promise, but he likes the sound of both. None of this was probably fair but they were doing it anyway. Hell, Eddie would in a heartbeat. It may not be fair, but it for damn sure wasn’t going to stop Eddie. 

Eddie slips the keys into her pockets, giving it a heavy handed pat. “Then let’s get this show on the road, hmm, darling?”

______________________

Eddie doesn’t waste time. It’s a pride of his to know in his older age that he doesn’t waste too much time--he’ll waste some, but never too much. The clocks are ticking up and past one in the morning, but all Eddie is focused on is Valeria. She sighs into his open mouth. He swallows it down. If he could tuck Valeria up under his ribs, he would. If he could carry Valeria in his fingertips, he would. Eddie drinks in every sound. Valeria giggles at the tickle of his scruff at her neck and it makes his bones vibrate. He could fall apart right then and there when Valeria laughs. 

“What’s so funny huh?” Eddie laughs in her neck. 

“Just tickles,” Valeria hums. 

Eddie skates his fingers over the soft skin of her belly, biting at the skin of her breast. Valeria gasps at the sensation but he can hear the smile in voice and that’s all that matters. All that matters is the way when Eddie takes, Valeria gives. All that matters is when Eddie gives, Valeria takes. Valeria’s nails trail over the skin of his back and shoulders, to his chest. Whatever fear he could have about the scars always melts away. Valeria touches him like glass, like she can’t quite believe it’s him in her hands. And while it might seem frustrating, Eddie appreciates the tenderness. It reminds him that there are people who still care. There are still people who may want to consume but they do not do so maliciously. There are some people who may want to pour back. It’s a rarity, but Eddie knows he needs the reminder.

The fire in Eddie’s gut only burns brighter. It’s messy, Valeria dripping down on his chin, but he doesn’t care. Her fingers tangle in his hair, pulling like she can’t get him close enough. Maybe she can’t. Maybe Eddie can’t be close enough either. He holds her legs down, knowing Valeria likes to buck. But this isn’t about something quick and dirty. This is about taking their time--sunlight and responsibilities be damned. Eddie’s going to drink down every drop. 

“Fuck,” Valeria whines, high in her throat. 

Eddie can hear the strain in her voice. He laughs into her thighs, leaning up to watch Valeria’s heaving chest. “You doing okay up there, princess?” Eddie lazily drags a finger on her inner thigh. 

“Better than okay,” Valeria hums. “So fucking good.” 

“Oh, that’s what I like to hear,” Eddie grins before licking another stripe up Valeria’s cunt. She quakes when his tongue hooks around her clit. And though Valeria teased him by making him behave on the two hour drive because she was driving, Eddie is also going to tease her back by lapping from her--slowly, let his own body feed from her pleasure. 

Everything her body can take Eddie wants. Eddie doesn’t care how he gets it. He’s always been one up for an adventure. But he must admit, when Valeria drags him up her body, still heaving from her orgasm, and seals their lips together in a kiss, Eddie thinks it’s going to be a reprieve. He thinks maybe they’ll just take a minute or two. What he’s not expecting is Valeria’s push up, hooking one leg around his waist and then onto his back Eddie goes. It’s not without a laugh, not without his own tease and wiggle of his brow.

“Oh, what a view,” he hums as Valeria settles on his waist. 

“How does it feel down there?” she laughs. 

“It’s a cool 50 degrees down here, I’d say.”

“Prepare for a warm front.”

He wants to ask what specifically that means but the words don’t get off his tongue before Valeria’s teasing him with her fingers. Eddie twitches in her hand, anticipation of what she might do next seeping into his skin and dripping into the sheets. Valeria leans in, mouth opening but she just breathes. Right over Eddie’s face. He whines, not meaning to, and Valeria tightens her hand around his cock. She mocks his whine just a little, laughing. “Cat got your tongue?”

“No,” Eddie heaves out. “A pretty vixen has my dick though in her hands and I would really appreciate anything she wants to give me though.”

“A wordsmith, aren’t you?” 

“I try.” The words all take every ounce of Eddie’s strength to get out. Valeria’s started to lazily stroke him. It’s wet, more than he’s sure his own precum but he doesn’t dare think about Valeria reaching between her own legs to lube him up. No, the thought would absolutely make Eddie blow his load in half a second. 

The tugs increase in pace, tighter and a little faster. More and more until Eddie’s throwing his head back against the pillows. “Shit, shit, shit, Valeria, please,” he cries out. The pace doesn’t feel like it’s sustainable like something’s going to give, either Eddie or Valeria, but so far, Valeria grins against him. Maybe she won’t tire out anytime soon. 

“Please what? Need full words, baby.”

“Please,” Eddie huffs. “Anything. I’ll take fucking anything, honey. Shit.” His toes are curling. Everything in his lower gut is on fire and he swears he’s never going to actually feel anything like this again. Nothing can be as good as this. 

“Anything anything?” Valeria asks.

Eddie can only nod, eyes screwed up tight, holding her hips in his hands. She’s so close, hovering right over him. He can feel the occasional drip onto his length adding more slick to the mess between them. “Anything,” he whimpers. 

Valeria sinks, a sigh leaving her lips and Eddie’s eyes fly open. “Oh shit,” he huffs. Valeria lifts up and then settles again, hips grinding. Her warmth spreads like wildfire. Eddie’s clawing at Valeria to get her to bounce on him again, to create a rhythm that they can both enjoy. But she’s content for the moment just to grind. 

“Tsk, tsk,” Valeria mocks from above him. “Don’t be greedy.”

“Oh, fuck, easy for you to say,” Eddie returns. He wants more bite in the words, but he can’t get it out. All he can do is pant and pray. Eddie’s floating. He feels it before he can name it. But his head it gone from his shoulder and he doesn’t care that Valeria mocks his every sound. He doesn’t care that her teeth are bruising his skin. He doesn’t care that he’s lost all his senses. All that fucking matters is feeling the hot breath on his skin. All that matters is the way Valeria bounces on him, a greedy pace that makes him feel needed. How desperate it is just to be needed no matter the format, but Eddie’s beyond a rational understanding. There’s nothing rational left here as the room fills with the echoes of their moans. 

“Holy--” The swear doesn’t get enough air from Eddie before he can cums. All the air leaves his lungs as Valeria works atop him, hips rising and falling back onto his length. Maybe Eddie got this whole thing wrong. Maybe instead of getting everything Valeria had, she was going to get everything he had. Maybe they’d always wind up like this, giving and taking and giving and taking all in equal measures. Valeria falls into his chest, panting in her own right. She shivers against him and Eddie wraps her up tight in his arms. It’s a give and a take. 

“Do you want pancakes in the morning?” Eddie asks into her temple after they’ve cleaned up. It took a few minutes before either one of them got feeling back into their limbs but it did happen eventually. 

Valeria nods, curled into Eddie’s side. “You got blueberries?”

“I can do that for you.” It shouldn’t be too hard. Eddie can wake before she does and go out to the store to get a cartoon or maybe it would be better to get a frozen bag. But either way, Eddie feels himself drifting into sleep thinking about Valeria in his arms. 

___________________________

The thing about their goodbyes is that when they should be permanent, they never feel that way. At least not with Eddie and Valeria. There’s something underneath them that always says more, says it’s goodbye just for now. Maybe this time will be like all the others. Eddie holds Valeria in the doorframe, in the liminal space of inside and outside his trailer. “You’ll still call, right?” Eddie asks. He needs those. What would fill his days if not for work and Valeria.

“I’ll still call,” Valeria promises. She looks at him, eyes swimming and Eddie knows. He knows that things are shifting. It feels like an earthquake beneath his feet that one one else can feel. This goodbye won’t be like the others because the thing neither one of them demands at that goodbye is how frequent the calls will be. And maybe Eddie knew it was a good idea not to ask. Maybe even in all his disbelief he still knows the ultimate outcome. A week from the concert and Eddie only gets five calls. They’re just as long as they’ve always been, but not every day. Two weeks from the concert and the calls drop from five to four. Then four to three. Three to two. 

Two months pass and it feels like a drought. The calls happen, usually once a week. And then they shorten. It’s passing on how they’re doing--abbreviated retellings of the mechanic’s shop and the store. It’s just enough to feel like it’s a substantive conversation but not what they used to be--what would take hours, only take thirty minutes tops. The bottom of the barrel becomes higher and higher in their conversation more and more silences that feel much too awkward than before. The air is thick. Valeria’s breathing has filled Eddie’s ears for the past two minutes and she keeps stopping and starting her sentences. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Eddie teases. “Did you eat chocolate? You know you’re mildly allergic to it right?”

Valeria laughs. It’s the first time Eddie’s heard it in weeks this full and this loud. It makes his chest tight at the sound and he’s so fucking thankful for it in the moment, he exhales deeply into the receiver. “No, no chocolate, Eddie.”

“Damn, I was sort of hoping maybe you had so you could finally answer my question about what’s your favorite M&M.”

This bout of laughter is deeper and Eddie feels his body sag in relief. He’s on a fucking roll and it feels so much better. Eddie feels like he can breathe. “The answer is clearly the red ones.”

“Atta girl,” Eddie cheers. Their laughter is shared and soft. Just as quickly as the tension is cut it returns. Eddie reclines into the wall next to his fridge. He hasn’t forgotten what Valeria said at the start of his call. How he barely got his greeting out before Valeria was barrelling through hers. “You said you called because you had something to tell me.”

Eddie tries not to panic when Valeria agrees that she does has something to tell him. Because it was coming--the end. It was always coming and it marched so freely because Eddie didn’t do anything to stop it. He was too chicken shit to do anything. Even if the world was going to shift again at least this time he would have nothing left to hold onto it. Maybe the world would just swallow him whole. 

“It’s-I don’t know how to say this.”

“Just like always, putting one word in front of the other, sweetheart.”

“But it’s--it’s going to change everything.”

It’s at that sound that Eddie pushes back up. He’s not sure if he’s bracing himself for the inevitable or there’s the last spring of hope he’s holding onto surfacing. “Change everything?”

“I’m-I’m pregnant, Eddie.”

Yeah, there’s that earth swallowing him whole and spitting him out on his face. But it’s the one fucking thing he needs. It’s ice water on his face. It’s a broken nose. It’s the time Wayne had to buzz his hair back in middle school because he’d gotten it so tangled up that no one could really get it back into order. 

A reset. A hard one that that. 

A wake up call. 

“Do you plan to keep the baby?” Eddie asks. 

“I-I want to, yes. But I know you don’t necessarily want kids.”

“I want this kid,” Eddie confesses softly. 

“No, you don’t have to do that. Tammie and Chels are willing to help me out.”

“Val, I’m not just saying anything. I want to be there for you and for my kid. I love you, you know that right?” 

The words are out again before Eddie can process what they actually will do and mean. But he’d already been dropped on his face once today, learning that Valeria was pregnant with his kid. What was a second drop in the grand scheme of things. 

“But not like that,” Valeria deflects. 

“No,” Eddie returns stern. He doesn’t need her to assume anything anymore. Assumptions had gotten them in this place—at least on Eddie’s part. He’s assumed his way into this mess but he wouldn’t let it get worse. Not when a closed door cracked again. It wouldn’t do that too many more times. “Exactly like that. I fucked up before. I’m not going to fuck up twice. I love you, Valeria. Do you hear me? I love you. You were leaving and I did nothing to make you stay. I didn’t show effort. I just wanted to keep things like they were and hope bare minimum was enough. It wasn’t. It wasn’t enough and fuck, I’m not doing that again. I’m not asking you to pity. I just need you to hear me. I’m sorry. You were right. Effort is so important and you’re important. And I’m sorry I let you go.”

“I mean I left. I wasn't going to hurt myself if you weren’t ready to commit. I know that sounds harsh. I was walking away, Eddie. But the thing I wouldn’t do is lie to you. I wouldn’t try to hide anything from you.” It’s not that it’s harsh. It just stings. Valeria had walked away—not all at once but things had shifted between them. Eddie didn’t fight the current. He had no reason too when Valeria asked if their relationship would ever reach for more he’d all but stomped it out. It’s not penance; it’s just a natural consequence. Every action has a reaction.  “You are never one to mince words.” 

“I’m sorry Eddie. I just wanted to tell you. You deserve to know.” 

“Don’t.” Eddie knows that tone. A resolution she’s decided well before this conversation. “That’s still my kid. I know I messed up but please don’t cut me out of my own kid’s life.”

“No, no. I didn’t—I’m sorry. I meant it like you should know. You need to know so we can decide what to do next, ya know?” 

“I’m a fool. I’ll admit. I am the court fucking jester but I—the thought that I’m a dad or going to be a dad. It means everything.” It’s the first time he’s thought about it like that. He’s going to be a dad. He’s going to have a kid—come hell or high water. He blinks back tears. Some fall over his lash line and he doesn’t move to clear them. “I can do this. I can do it right. I promise Val. I can.” 

“I know you can, Eddie. I’ve always known. I just—I had to take you at your actions before. I still do.” Her voice cracks, the wet sound of her tears thickening her voice. 

“I’ll show it. I’ll put in the work.” It’s silent. Eddie wonders if Valeria’s silence is bad but he barrels on before he can think too much about it.  “How long have you known?” Eddie asks. 

“About a month? Missed my period a couple of times and thought something was up. Took some at home tests. I go in two weeks to the OBGYN to see if I am for sure.”

“What day?”

“Friday, the 16th at 11 AM.”

“Text me the address, okay? I’ll be there. I’m going to be there for everything, I swear, Val.” He knows they’ll have to discuss if anyone is moving, which will mostly likely be him. He’d hate to uproot her in the middle of something like this. He could find another shop to work at. Eddie can and will do whatever necessary now to ensure he doesn’t let Valeria slip through his fingers again. 

“I’ll text it to you. Promise. And I’m sorry. For dropping a bomb like this on you.” 

Eddie giggles. Sure it is a bomb, and not what he anticipated when she said she had news, but at this point it is what it is. There’s no going back. “I’m sorry to have done it to you.” The smile is evident in his voice.

“No, you’re not. Admit it. Just fucking admit it,” Valeria laughs. 

“I mean, if you’re yanking my leg. The picture of you pregnant is pretty hot so less sorry. But we probably should’ve been more careful.” He can’t remember if there was a condom involved or not. He was usually more on top of it, even if his sex life was inactive aside from Valeria. It was important to keep up with the expiration dates and keep them on hand. It’s not like Eddie can even blame the alcohol. He’d barely finished the second beer. He was in most rights in his right mind. 

“It’s the antibiotics I was on, according to the nurses I spoke with. I’d just finished some two days before seeing you due to a root canal and they can make birth control less effective. As we now see.” 

“Oh shit. I didn’t even know that. How—how are you? I mean this for real. I don’t want bullshit, Val. Not after what I know.” 

Her exhale crackles through the receiver. The beats feel long—like stretched out taffy that keeps stretching and keeps stretching. He thinks the moment may never break and then Valeria speaks. “I’m scared, Eddie. I’m so fucking scared.”

Eddie spins, dropping his head into the wall, voice falling into a whisper as he speaks. God, he so wishes he was there with her. Not that he thinks she’d want him there immediately. But he wishes he could be. “Hey, it’s alright to be scared. I’m the biggest scaredy cat there is. Being afraid is okay. What’s got scared you?”

“Everything. We live in different cities. I have no clue how to take care of a baby. Morning sickness is a bitch. I’m starving but I can’t keep anything down. Haven’t pooped in a week. Pregnancy really isn’t all it’s glammed up to be.” 

“Not shitting for a week and not being able to keep anything down sounds horrendous. It’s okay if you feel a little insane right now. Are you off tomorrow?” 

“Yeah. I am.” 

“How far are Tammie and Chels from you?”

“They’re planning to come over anyway, tomorrow.” 

“Okay, good, good. What time?”

“One, I think. What-what are you doing, Eddie?”

He shakes his head, though she can’t see it. He knows that she knows. It’s who they are together--sentiment of each other in ways that should be creepy. “Can you get water down?”

“It’s a fight some days. But you’re changing the subject. Eddie, what are you planning?”

“Nothing, Val. I just want to make sure you’re okay, since I can’t be there.” From the living room, Eddie catches the chime of his phone. It goes off once. A text and he thinks it’s just the address Valeria promised to send, so he doesn’t bother going to look at the message. “For your appointment on the 16th, would you-would you be okay if I stayed the weekend with you? I want to talk properly. Face-to-face.”

“Yeah, that’d be okay. I think it would be good to talk.”

His phone chimes again and this time, Eddie does look in the direction. Not too many people had his cell phone number. The kids did, Harrington, Buckley, Older Wheeler, Byers, and Valeria. Gareth had it for emergencies--namely about the shop. And no one texted him. He was shit at it--hated it in the way that he had muster through it when absolutely necessary but much preferred just talking to someone. 

“There’s two addresses I sent. I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess,” Valeria states. There’s a bit of something that catches at the end and from far away, Eddie catches a cough. 

“You okay?”

“I think one of my neighbors is cooking fish and the smell is getting to me. It’s-” Another gag interrupts her. “It’s gonna be a long night.”

“Tell your neighbors I told them no more seafood. They can fight me on it.”

Valeria laughs--soft and mostly from her nose it sounds. “I’ll tell them. I’m sorry to cut this so abruptly. But it’s gonna get bad over here in a minute and I don’t think you want the sounds of someone vomiting in your ear.”

“I would. For you. But if you gotta go, I get it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I thought you weren’t planning anything, hmm?” 

Eddie catches what sounds like a smile in her voice. He grins. “Just take care of yourself, Valeria.”

“See you tomorrow, Eddie.”

Eddie listens to the dial tone for several minutes after the phone call ends. A static in his ears but the longer he stays on the line, the longer he has with Valeria. Tomorrow, he’s got to get his life together for tomorrow. Eddie slams his phone back onto the receiver and scurries to his phone. The first message comes through and mentions Dr. Johnson is Suite 1121. But then he reads the second address, Apartment 23C. Tomorrow. 

“Eddie?” Gareth answers on the third ring. “You alright, dude? You never use your cellphone.”

“Can you cover for me this weekend at the shop and the weekend starting the 16th?”

“Yeah, yeah of course. Is everything okay?”

“I-It’s Valeria.”

“Val? I thought--it’s been months.”

“She’s, uh, well, she’s pregnant and I really have to be there. I’m gonna have a kid.” The sentence makes his face lift, a grin pressing at the corners of his mouth. 

“Fuck, dude. Congrats! Yeah, yeah, I got this weekend and the 16th. No worries. If you need anything else, let me know!”

“I will. Thanks, Gareth.”

Eddie’s expecting--well, he doesn’t really know what he’s expecting when he knocks on Valeria’s door. Maybe she lied. Maybe she’d kick him out and tell him to fuck off. He saw her car, but he doesn’t know what Tammie and Chels drive well enough to know if he’s going to be greeted by the lot of them once the door opens. Either way, Eddie raps his fist against the door, waits two, maybe three seconds and then brings his hands back up to knock again. 

Just before his fist connects, the locks click and the door swings open. Valeria stands, face a little hollowed, but still with the cascade of dark brown corkscrew curls. They’re pulled to the top of her head and fall like bangs against her forehead. She smiles, stepping back behind the door. The gray t-shirt displays a college on it; it’s a little baggy, but still fits her mostly well. “Hi, Eddie. I’m sorry I’m such a mess right now.”

“No, no, you’re not a mess,” Eddie returns, gesturing to see if he’s okay to come in. Valeria nods. “It’s early.”

Eddie’s hit with the small of something like vanilla, maybe something deeper too. And around the edges of the scent, it smells of cleaner. The apartment is bright, thanks to the blinds being open. The couch is dark brown, blue throw pillows. A white knitted blanket is thrown over the back of it. The wooden TV stand holds a decent size TV, DVD cases resting on it. Eddie slips out of his shoes quickly, noting her hardwood floors though she has a thick shaggy rug in the living room. 

“You didn’t have to clean for me,” Eddie laughs. He slips the duffle bag off his shoulders and places it right in front of the couch. 

“Needed to clean anyways. You hungry?” 

“I-I ate already. Thanks.” There’s a couple feet between them, Valera leaning against one of her bookcases--there’s two slender ones on the side resting against the wall between the two outward facing windows. Eddie stands still near the door. 

Valeria nods, arms folding under her chest. Her gaze doesn’t lift up to meet his. Eddie feels like he’s intruding, but she did agree to this. “I’m-I’m going to try and fail with some toast. Bathroom’s down the hall, first on the left. Whatever’s in the kitchen is free for you to consume. Feel free to watch whatever too.”

Eddie takes a tentative step forward, fingers just brushing over her forearm. “Valeria, can you look at me?”

She lifts her head, slowly. She looks tired--more so than Eddie’s ever seen her. Eddie cups her cheeks, thumbs brushing the bottoms of her eyes. It makes his chest ache. He hopes she hasn’t been like this for the entire month and he hopes it won’t last the entire pregnancy either. “That’s it darling,” he praises once her sight is level on him. 

 “I’m glad you’re here.” It’s a soft whisper but Eddie catches it all the same. Her lower lip wobbles and before the tears even fall, Eddie hears it. The truth of the matter is that she’s scared and while she had friends, it was still a lot. 

“I’m happy to be here too. But you can let it out now, okay? I’m here.”

Valeria falls into his body, face buried into junction between his shoulder and neck. She shakes--like a leaf in a winter wind, Valeria shudders against him. “I don’t want to do this alone,” she sobs. 

“You won’t. You won’t do this alone. I’m here. Tammie’s here. Chels is too. You’re not alone.”

“Promise? I know it’s stupid. But I—,”

Eddie cups be back of her head, brushing ever so gently at the hairs at the nape of her neck. If only he could take the shakes, if only Eddie could pull the dead out of her bones. “No. It’s not stupid. I promise I’ll be here for you. You won’t be alone.” 

_____________________________

Eddie’s early. He knows that--knew it the moment he left his house at 7 in the morning. But he hadn’t been able to fall back asleep. He woke around 4:30 in the morning, a thick heat consuming his chest. He turned the fan up, cracked open a window, but nothing brought in enough of a chill to allow him to drift back to sleep. When his clock ticked over to 6, he called it--showered, got dressed, ate breakfast and then got on the road. Being early be damned, Eddie was not going to show up late to this. Besides, the earlier he was the more time they had to talk. It seemed like all they did these days--talk, trying to plan out a future even when it seems so daunting. 

The front door has become an all too familiar sight. It’s a little after 9 now so Eddie knocks--twice and then waits. Valeria’s usually not far when he knocks. Just like always, the door opens a couple beats later. Valeria’s face is a little fuller now. She can keep food down more consistently now. But still struggles with seafood and beef. Eddie’s just grateful she’s not barfing up everything she eats anymore. 

“Come here often?” Eddie smiles. 

“Apparently you do.” Valera waves him inside. He toes off his shoes and drops the bag down in front of the couch. “Sorry to make you do this trek so much.”

“No, you need the appointments. I don’t mind. Besides, I’m sure the guys at the shop are thankful to get rid of me for a couple days here and there.”

“As long as you’re sure. Hungry? I just finished up some french toast and don’t mind sharing.”

Eddie nods, finger tips warm and itching to pull at one of the curls. He resists though. The casual displays of physical intimacy are at a snails pace. They hugged, occasionally held hands, but it was clearly a line that Valeria wasn’t going to cross soon so Eddie does his best to respect that limit. “I can go for a piece, if you’re sharing.”

Valeria’s kitchen is smaller than Eddie’s, a byproduct of the way the kitchen is sectioned off from the rest of the apartment. But it’s cozy to be in--the counters are lined with kitchen utensils in holders, flowers (a set that Eddie sent a few days prior and then another set that he’s not sure where they came from). There’s plates and bowls set out with the french toast, a fruit salad made by hand, and bacon in them. “Bacon okay too?”

“Fine with me.” Eddie hadn’t eaten much before leaving, knowing Valeria would offer up something once he arrived. If feeding someone is a love language, Valeria speaks it fluently. Eddie doesn’t mind though. He’s learned to speak it--accepting the offerings, finishing off what Valeria swears she can’t. If the stress weren’t getting to him like it was, he’s sure he would’ve gained ten pounds. 

“Everything okay? You look like you’re being haunted.”

Eddie takes the stretched out plate, watching the way her eyes assess him. They would always get each other. “Worried sick about you some days and making sure we can do this, feasibly, you know.”

“About that,” Valeria starts, sighing a little. Her own fork clinks as she assembles her plate too. 

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees when she looks at him. Her eyes say it all--we’re going to have to do something, make some sort of change.

There’s a moment of silence. Like neither one of them truly wants to crack open the surface. Nothing changes if they don’t go deeper. Valeria speaks first and the moment finally cuts loose from their shared fear. “I could move to Hawkins. Try and transfer to that GAP.”

Eddie scoffs, sliding his plate onto the dining room table before facing Valeria fully. He gets the gesture, what she’s probably offering, but the last thing he want if for Valeria to be miserable. “You’d hate living in Hawkins, Val. I’ve lived there my whole life and it’s not getting better.”

“Well, I don’t want you to sacrifice the car shop. You’re managing the shop. All your friends are there in Hawkins.”

“I’m not pulling you away from the people who can support you right now. You said so yourself you don’t want to do this alone. Tammie and Chels are your rocks right now and I think it’s important you feel supported.”

“You matter too, Eddie. I’m sure Steve and Robin are keeping you sane right now.”

“They are,” he admits. He talked to either one of them at least once a day. Buckley is ecstatic at the prospect of a tiny human addition. But Harrington, Harrington was keeping Steve on the straight and narrow. There were many times Eddie found himself in the aisle in the grocery store staring at the bottles. His fingers itched to grab one, thinking if he could just forget the fear and the anxiety it make things so much easier. Harrington’s cellphone number is etched into the tips of Eddie’s fingers from how many times he’s dialed it. Eddie doesn’t really want to drink. He just wants something to take the edge off. Drinking was stupid though.

“Is that why you’re building muscle? Challenging Steve now?”

Eddie lets himself clamber backwards into the edge of the dining room table at the jab to his bicep. He hisses like it hurts, though it doesn’t. “Be careful. I’m sensitive.”

Valeria snorts, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. “Need someone to rub your back?”

Eddie lets the tuft of laughter fall from his lips. “Harrington’s suggested I go to the gym when I feel…out of it.”

“Out of it?”

Eddie shrugs, pushing up to help her. He closes the cabinet for her and pulls out the jug of orange juice. “Out of it…you’re not the only one scared. I worry I’m going to fuck it all up. When that happens, I think about doing stupid shit.”

“Stupid shit? Eds, I don’t--you can talk to me.”

“It’s not that I think about drinking myself to death. But just. It’s stupid.”

“So you think about drinking? When you’re out of it?”

Eddie nods at the question. “Dad was an alcoholic. Never violent. Just…couldn’t function without it sometimes.”

Her eyes widen, the realization falling deeply onto her face. “No, no, you talk to me, Eddie. Okay? You call me. I don’t care what time it is. You call me, okay? Please.”

Eddie wants to recoil. Her fingers are cold from the juice, but her hold is firm and Eddie can only nod. “I’ll call you. When it gets bad.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

Valeria nods. Her eyes stern, but her runs her hands down Eddie’s arm. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you can’t talk to me.”

“I don’t--it’s just I know you’re dealing with a lot. I don’t want to make it seem like I’m piling on.”

“You don’t. It’s a me thing.” Because it’s Eddie’s own anxieties. He knows he could talk to Valeria, but he doesn’t want to add on when she may not have the capacity. “I don’t want to burden you.”

“You’re not a burden, Eddie. A pain in my ass, but never a burden.”

“Sometimes I forget there’s a difference.” Eddie’s not sure where that came from, when the lines had gotten blurred from him. But it’s the truth. He’d spent so much time trying not to be a bother, that he couldn’t tell when people wanted him around sometimes. 

Valeria steps in closer, body pressing flush into his. There’s just a few inches between their faces, but Valeria closes that gap too, pressing her forehead into his. Eddie encases her waist with his arms. It’s a slightly strange feeling, the slight bump of her stomach pressed into his. “Then let me remind you of the difference, okay?” 

“Okay,” Eddie whispers, eyes fluttering close. Valeria goes to pull away, but Eddie squeezes. He doesn’t want to let her go just yet. “Can I have one more minute?”

“Of course, you can.”

Eddie misses this, holding her close. He’s missed the way she slots against him, head tucking into his shoulder. They’re like puzzle pieces slotted together to bring to life a fuller picture. Her breath tickles against his neck, but Eddie leans into the feeling. It lets him know she’s still real. 

“Did you get a new body wash?” Valeria asks after a minute.

“Is it bad?”

“No, no, it smells really good.”

Eddie snorts. “Yeah, it’s new.”

“Smells good enough to eat.”

“No, that’s what your french toast is for. You can’t make our baby a cannibal without their consent first.” Eddie noses her temple. She still smells the same. Always has. It’s a true solace. When he leaves, his clothes still smell like her and he can carry the scent for a day or two longer in his jacket and hair of the candles she burns, the perfume she wears on occasion. Eddie cups the back of her head, lips pressing into the warm skin of her forehead. “We’ll make it, right?”

“We have so far. I have faith,” Valeria returns. There’s no hesitation in her response and Eddie thinks maybe he can believe that too. They resume their breakfast, hands finding each others under the table, sitting shoulder to shoulder instead of across from each other. 

“Do you think moving into Indy is a good idea?” Eddie poses. He’s situated at Valeria’s vanity as she scraps through all the items in her closet. She pulls out a sweater--baby blue, and holds it up in front of her. “It’s cute.”

Valeria huffs and throws it back into the closet. “You said that about the last top. And I don’t think it’s a bad one. When are you thinking about it? My lease is up in April, another two months.”

Eddie’s situation was a tad more complicated. He’d paid off the mortgage on the trailer a few years ago, but he was still paying the land rent. If he wanted to move, he’d have to find a way to sell the trailer. Which wouldn’t be terrible, but it would be tedious. “Is this about the sweater or something else?”

“I don’t feel like any of my clothes fit right.”

“You’re growing a baby. Things are going to grow and change for a little bit. I really do think the blue top is the right one.”

Valeria nods and pulls it back out. “So Indy? You’re sure about that?”

“It’s close enough to home. Neither one of us has bullshit from our hometowns toto worry about. Still close enough that folks can visit.”

“What do you think about Franklin? Closer to Indy, but maybe not as crowded?”

“Oh, God, babe,”  Eddie fakes a gag. “No. We are both not built for a town like that.”

Valeria snorts, slipping into a pair of black leggings. “Okay, fair. Franklin may not be our cup of tea. But you sure you want to dive into city life? A small town boy like yourself,” Valeria’s voice dips into a slight, albeit slightly off Southern twang. 

Eddie pushes up, noticing a slight struggle Valeria’s diving into with the pants. He kneels in front of her, hand coming to her knee to settle her squirming. Eddie pulls the excess fabric up and off her heels. He then stands to help get the rest up her hips. “I think it’s time for the small town boy like me to get the hell out of there.” Satisfied that the pants are up and straight, he taps the end of her nose. “Gold earrings?”

“When do I ever go for anything different?”

“Never. Can I choose?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

Eddie heads over to the vanity, fingers tracing over her jewelry. “Leave the shoes alone and let me get them please.” He spots her glare in the mirror and laughs as she settles onto the edge of the bed. It’s not a hard choice, Eddie’s always gravitated to simple. But he still reviews each pair of earrings before settling on a pair of gold holds with her name written on the inside of them. 

“You know I’m not so pregnant I can’t do this by myself.”

“And do I look like I give a shit?” Eddie returns, grabbing a pair of slip on Vans for her. 

“Not in the slightest,” she sighs. “So Indy?”

“If you’re okay with it?” Eddie counters, helping her into her shoes. “No, let’s go. We have an appointment to make. A baby to see!”

Valeria takes his outstretched hands. “I think it’s a boy.”

“Nah,” Eddie laughs. “Totally a girl.”

_____________________________

She told him he could do this. Yet his fingers still shake. His body tells him to call Harrington like he always does when it gets like this. But he watches Valeria’s name in the phone in slightly blurry vision. The grocery store is a shitty place to have a moment like this, but it’s where Eddie finds himself. In another month Valeria’s lease will lapse. She’s already started selling some things in her house. Eddie’s still hasn’t found someone to take over the trailer. Hasn’t started packing up anything. They have a place they like in Indy, but are on the waitlist until June. In the meantime, Valeria’s taking a position at The GAP in the mall and Eddie’s transitioning Gareth and Jeff to take over the shop. 

But Eddie hasn’t done a goddamn thing to get movement on the trailer--packing, selling or otherwise. And fuck the paralysis that comes with the fear. Before Eddie can over think it too much, he presses SEND. The phone rings and rings in his ear. “Shit, shit, shit. She’s probably at work, Munson. She told you she had a shift.”

“Eddie? Everything okay?

“Oh, thank fuck,” Eddie exhales. 

“Baby? What’s going on?”

“Tell me to walk out of this grocery store, please. I don’t need it.”

“Eddie, get out of that aisle, please. Okay. It’s okay if you’re out of it. If it’s too much, but you don’t need anything on that aisle.”

One step. That’s all he gets. But if he hooks a left at the end of this aisle, he’ll run into the cookies. “I’m scared.”

“Why? What are you scared about?”

“We’re supposed to get the new place in June and I haven’t done anything. Nothing. Jack fucking shit. I’m just…stuck right now.”

“Want to vent or want some help?”

“I think I need Jesus and this is coming from me.” It’s not an answer. Eddie knows that, but it’s okay. “I just. I only got one step. There’s so many more.”

“Give me one more. One step is perfect. Just one more.”

He does. He takes another step away from the aisle. “What should I do? Just talk to me. Scream. I don’t care.”

“Enlist Dustin, Max, Lucas, and Erica. Yes, tell her I told her to be there because she will keep you all in line. Start just with your closet. What are clothes you don’t need anymore? Clear that out. Just one room at a time. You won’t be able to get through it all. It’s just a start.”

“But then who takes over the trailer? It’s paid off.”

“I’m sure the kids are probably feigning to get out from the parents. Maybe two of them are willing to take it over.”

Eddie gets to the end of the aisle and stops. It makes perfect sense. All he needed to do was take it in increments. Tiny pieces at a time. And while Harrington, Buckley, Wheeler and Byers all had places of their own. It didn’t meant the kids wouldn’t be looking for something else. The boys would probably enjoy having their own space. While Mike was still settling in from his post graduation life, Dustin and Lucas could forge something of their own. “Woman, you are a fucking genius. God damn.”

“You going to work out now?”

“I need to bypass the cookie aisle first. But why? Why are you saying it like that?”

“Nothing, no reason! But you might be able to transfer the paid off trailer to a couple of the kids and they can take over.”

“No, no, no. We are not bypassing the fact that you totally have the hots for my newly deeper defined biceps.”

“No, I don’t!” Valeria huffs. It’s indignant, fully. 

“Oh, yes you do, sweetheart. Yes, you do,” Eddie teases. He continues on, waving at Dustin who waves in return. “Just admit it, love. Just fucking admit it.”

“Eddie, I do not have the hots for your new deeper defined biceps or large pecs. Absolutely not.”

Eddie’s grin is deep. Outside in the fresh air, he feels like he can breathe again. “Yes, you do. Let me hear you say it.”

“Nope. Nope, this is about you.”

“Yes, it is about me. Flatter my ego, lovebug. Please.”

Valeria’s laughter is big and loud. Eddie’s chest surges with pride at the sound. “Eddie, no. I’m not going to admit that pregnancy hormones are raging. Nope, nope, nope.”

“Are they raging my dear?”

“Maybe,” Valeria grumbles. “But again, this isn’t about me. This is about you. You don’t have to have it all sorted right this second. We can take it one piece at a time.”

Eddie climbs into his truck, phone pressed to his ear by the work of his shoulder. “Yeah, one piece at a time. Okay, I can do that. I can gather the troops for the weekend. You don’t have anything this weekend either?”

“No, no, next appointment is the week after.”

Eddie nods. “Got it. It’s on my calendar already. The weekend, cleaning out my closet. Yeah, yeah, doable.”

“You can call me while you do it too. If that’ll help.”

“I’ll get distracted, with you on the line. Never get any work done.”

“I expect a report though. Itemized. Head to toe.”

Eddie nods. “I-I can do that. Thank you, Val.”

“You’re so welcome, Eds.”

“Enjoy the rest of your shift knowing I’m going to be very sweaty in the gym.”

Valeria groans. “Fuck you. Enjoy the workout. I’ll call you once I get home okay?”

“Sounds like a plan, sugar. Talk to you then.”

“You’re getting your rocks off on this, aren’t you?” Valeria asks through a laugh. 

“Only just a little,” Eddie answers. “Only just a little. I like making you sweat.”

“Just for that. The next time you visit, you’re rubbing my feet and you don’t get to control the remote.”

“Oh!” Eddie huffs. It's a ritual now during his visits. He sets up her foot spa--that he bought unnecessarily--and gives her a pedicure and foot rub. In return, Valeria gets to bliss out for a little bit and she forfeits all power over the remote. Eddie only teasingly stated that he’d only keep it up if he could control the remote to the TV and the color of the polish. Valeria freely relinquished the control. “That’s so not fair! If you tell me I can’t pick out the nail polish color, I’d rather you just take me out back and shoot me.”

“I’d never go that far, Eddie. Love you.”

He freezes, air catching in his throat. “Valeria.”

“I know what I said, Eddie. It’s not the pregnancy hormones. I’ve always loved you.”

“I-I don’t feel like I’ve earned that back. And I know it’s ridiculous but-”

“Eddie, you’re going on a spiral. Love isn’t earned. Trust is, but not love. You have never had to earn love and anyone who has told you otherwise is a dispshit. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. I have always and will always love you. It took me a while to trust, to take a leap. But you’re too stinkin’ cute not to love.”

Eddie blinks. It’s only with the action that he realizes there are tears in his eyes. Snot drips down his nose and he sucks it back. He uses the back of his hand to clear his face. “I’m glad you trust me again. And I’m so fucking floored to hear you say that. To hear you say you love me. I love you too.”

“I know.” From faintly behind her, Eddie catches Valeria’s name called out. She sighs. “I’m sorry, Eds. I gotta go. They need up at the registers for something. I took my headset out to talk.”

“Yeah, no, no. I get it. Go. I’ll be here.”

“I’ll call you here soon.” Their goodbyes are clipped and Eddie drops his head to his steering wheel. I’ve always loved you. Oh even if the rest of the day is a disaster, Eddie’s never going to get a higher high. 

_____________________________

“She’s so stinkin’ tiny!” Eddie whispers. Valeria laughs, but Eddie doesn’t care, too caught up in the little girl in his arms. He’s repeated the mantra god only knows how many times since they brought her home. In the hospital Eddie wanted to keep his mind on getting Valeria through delivery. It’s a type of pain that he could never fully comprehend but sounded and appeared to be exhausting. Now Eddie can marvel. He can watch his baby girl’s face in blatant awe. 

“She doesn’t eat like she’s tiny though,” Val snorts. 

Eddie nods, taking the pad of his finger to trace her cheek. Denver Edith Munson in his arms--all seven pounds and 3 ounces of her. Though he’d argue there were built a few more ounces than before on her. She’s much too pale right now to see who she really will take after, but for the moment, Eddie sees the slope of Valeria’s brow and his nose. His entire universe feels wrapped up in a white and pink blanket. Denver’s eyes remain unopened but she has the cutest scrunch of her nose. There in the small dusting of freckles on her cheek, Eddie can see his heart resting in the constellation. A centimeter really in the grand destiny of the world but his little girl holds the essence of his heart on that one little cluster. 

“I’m going to teach you all sorts of things, kiddo, okay? Stuff that will give your Mom a heart attack, but it’s okay. She’ll go easy on you. You’ll probably be sick of me sooner rather than later. But god, I’m going to be there for everything, alright? Every single thing. Giant poops. Skinned knees. Boyfriends. Your first drink. License. I love you, you know? Love you so much.”

A soft grunt greets him in return, Denver’s face pinched with the nose. 

“Maybe that giant poop is sooner than you think,” Valeria teases. 

“Oh God, I can handle this. Totally. I can totally handle this,” Eddie mutters. He’s not freaking out. Never, it’s just poop. Plenty of people change diapers. It can’t be that hard. He’s watched Valeria do it. Nurses helped in the hospital. It’s not like it’s defusing a bomb. Changing a diaper is a reasonable task and something anyone can handle. 

“Want to tag me in?” Valeria asks. 

“No! Absolutely not. You need your rest.” 

“Start by getting a clean diaper, honey.” Valeria directs from the couch, watching from above. 

Eddie assembles all the necessities-- the changing mat, a fresh diaper, wipes, trash bag for the soiled diaper, a little bit of baby powder. “The poop guardian angel,” Eddie teases, popping the secure tabs on the soiled diaper. 

“Well, given that you have the new diaper upside down, I think it’s warranted.” 

Eddie balks. “I haven’t even gotten her cleaned up yet, what are you on?”

Valeria grins. “Just making sure you’re paying attention to the lecture.”

He flicks her off, and Valeria can only laugh. The sound bounces in their living room--a bright summer day in Indy surrounding them. There’s still some clouds in the sky and given how dry it’s been in the summer, there’s an expectation that the summer showers will come in heavier in the following weeks. The thunder still rattles Denver--the sound of her cries still breaking Eddie’s heart. Together they’ll get through though. Always together. 

Positive that Denver’s fresh top to bottom, Eddie slides the new diaper under her. “Now, we secure the tabs, and there! Bada bing bada boom! Easy peasy!” Eddie rubs his nose over Denver’s. “Do you feel secure, madam?”

A snort sounds from around them. It’s soft and sounds like it almost didn’t fully come out. “You’re such a dork.”

Eddie grins, looking up from Denver to Valeria. Her eyes are closed and he knows soon she’ll be drifting off for a nap. Not that he minds. There’s just dishes left and the laundry going in the dryer. Things he can surely handle to give Valeria a little extra sleep. “Your dork, though.” He nods down to the gold band on her finger. Not that she can see the motion. “Stuck with me.”

“I tossed out the receipt. I chose this,” Valeria grins, lifting her hand.

Eddie’s glad she did. It hadn’t been easy but the effort had been worth it in the end.  “Perfect. Because I wasn’t going to go quietly into that good night.” 

“I most certainly am. Right to sleep.” 

“Can you spare me just two minutes while I go wash my hands?” 

“Absolutely I can.” Valeria’s quick to scoop Denver up, slating her against the expanse of Val’s chest. Eddie’s knees pop as he stands. Surely being nearly 40 would do that but he’s met with barely concealed giggles. He lets it go with an eye roll, turning to head to the bathroom. “Hate when you walk away but I love to watch you go,” Valeria teases.

“You can’t steal my line! Totally unfair!” 

Eddie’s only in the bathroom for a couple minutes. Nothing long at all. But when he returns to the living room it’s quiet. Valeria’s light snores make barely a dent over the hum over the A/C unit. Denver is tucked under Valeria’s chin, one of Valeria’s hand on her back. The dryer shrills and Eddie shuffles down to the closet. He’s quick to shut off the noise and looks back down the hall to see if it’s awakened them. But it doesn’t seem to as they still rest comfortably on the couch. That’s a sight that Eddie thinks he would never want to get used to, so he’s always struck with a sense of awe and wonder each day. 

“Leave the fitted sheet, I’ll do it.”

Eddie giggles at the gruff sound of Valeria’s voice. “Thanks babe.” He should’ve at least expected Valeria to stir at the sound. 

“I swear I’ll be up in a minute. Just-just checking my eyeballs for cracks.”

“Keep checking them for as long as you need.”

Tagging: @munsonology @avidreader73 @2clones-1kamino

[killed-by-choice]

Semika Shaw, 22 (USA 2000)

22-year-old Semika Shaw was five months pregnant with her third baby. According to family, she was a single mother and likely thought that she couldn’t care for three children. Semika underwent an abortion at 5 months pregnant— at the hands of the now-infamous serial killer Kermit Gosnell. She had no idea what was about to happen to her.

During the abortion, Gosnell tore a hole in Semika’s uterus. He did nothing to fix the lethal injury and didn’t even tell Semika about it. Soon Semika was suffering from heavy bleeding and was in excruciating pain. She called the abortion facility to tell them something was wrong, but nobody helped her. She died from the hole in her uterus and from sepsis on March 1.

Semika’s two surviving children were suddenly left without their mother and their sibling. The funeral had to be interrupted to pull Semika’s little cousins away from her casket because the cousins were having a hard time processing that she would never be back.

Abortion facilities in Pennsylvania at the time were almost completely unregulated. An attorney for the Board Of Medicine acknowledged that they knew about Semika, but claimed that “Prosecution not Warranted”, meaning that they didn’t find Semika’s case worthy of investigation and would not be pursuing legal consequences for her killer. Semika’s painful and unnecessary death was mostly ignored by officials— except for her cousin, State Representative Margo Davidson. Margo spoke passionately in support of HB 574, a long-overdue bill that would require abortion facilities to adhere to the same safety standards as ambulatory surgical clinics.

Margo addressed the other representatives: “I believe that I am the only member of this house that was directly touched by the tragedy at the Gosnell [facility]… Today I honor her memory by voting yes on this legislation, that seeks to safeguard the health of women, that is long overdue, so that never again will a woman walk into a licensed health care facility in the State of Pennsylvania and be butchered as she was–with her uterus perforated and her death of sepsis and infection, permeating in her body, till she writhed in pain on the floor of her home, to her ultimate death.”

About 10 years after Gosnell killed Semika, he made the news for killing Karnamaya Mongar and multiple babies who were born alive. Semika’s death had been deemed unworthy of investigation at the time, but if her death had been properly investigated right away, how many more could have been spared?

“Legislator explains her backing of abortion crackdown,” Philadelphia Inquirer (Philadelphia, PA), Dec. 16, 2011

[whatsortofschoolisthis]

Merula: One day I'm going to say "fight me" to the wrong person and someone is just going to deck me.

Talbott: Oh, trust me, that day may be closer than you think.

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Sean: If murdered, I want a closed-casket funeral. However, towards the end of the service, please have the organist play "Pop Goes the Weasel" over and over until everyone in attendance is staring at my coffin with mute, horrified anticipation.

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Bryn: we're about to die! do you really want your last words to be sarcasm?!

Rowan, sarcastically: no of course not! I wanted them to be words of joy at our eminent demise

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Tonks/Jae  *accidentally does something well*: ah shit I’ve given them standards now.

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Jae: The secret to life is to always use more spinach and less rice than you think you'll need.

Penny: The second secret to life is that fresh air, warm sun, and a cup of tea will make your problems small enough to start handling.

Hecate: The third secret to life is that violence sometimes really is the answer.

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Ismelda: And that's why I don't have a boyfriend.

Barnaby: You know, I think there's a lot of reasons why you don't have a boyfriend.

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R: Be careful, there is a fine line between surveillance and stalking.

Professor Rakepick: Yeah, getting caught, which I don't plan on.

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Professor Sprout: Do you have any tips on how to get rid of ants?

Hagrid: I'm assuming diplomacy has failed.

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Sean, after surviving every vault adventure: The universe does not want me or my family dead. It does not want us happy but it does not want us dead.

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Rubin: Okay, now, to review, if a stranger came up to you and said "I'm your mom's friend, she told me to pick you up" what would you say?

Kit: I would say "You are lying, my mom doesn’t have any friends!"

Rubin:...

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Merula: Everyone has called me 'Boris' all day. I think Hecate paid them to

[Later]

Hecate: Absolutely. Five galleons each, and it was totally worth it.

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Liz: Remember, bird-watching goes both ways.

Felix: That's vaguely threatening, thank you.

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Chiara: You remind me of a Russian doll.

Victor: Aw, thank yo—

Chiara: Full of yourself.

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Madame McGonagall: Severus, do you hate children?

Snape: What? No, no, I don't hate children! I can't hate children! Children are excellent! Raising rugrats is my raison d'etre!

Professor Flitwick: How do you feel about friskergibblins?

Snape: What the hell is a friskergibblin?

Professor Flitwick: A friskergibblin is a creature that looks, sounds, and acts exactly like a human child, but is not a sapient creature and does not possess the rights and protections of personhood.

Snape: Oh. Throw every single friskergibblin into the sun at your earliest convenience, please.

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Charlie at the Hogsmede Festival: Are you having fun?

Ben: No. I’m having dark, disturbing thoughts that I don’t like to talk about.

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Cecil Lee after having his werewolf investigation interfered with: What is your problem?

Sean, interfering to protect Chiara: Would you like that list to be in alphabetical order, or based off the severity of them?

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Tonks: Kit, are you sure you don't wanna use my graduation speech? It goes like this: Later, losers.

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Pitts, annoyed: Hey. Let’s play a game. It’s called “See who can be quiet the longest”.

Kit:, in detention Cool! Rubin loves that game!

[overthinkingtaleblr]

not sure how much you know about Chucky, but a plot point in the last movie + TV show was that chucky split his soul and half possessed a girl named Nica and basically put here in a Jimmy Casket situation. When Chucky sees blood Nica gets put back in control however.

-Ashfur

So Chucky is the Anti-Casket /j

Admittedly I have not seen a single child’s play, but I have seen several reviews for every movie so I generally have an idea of what the plot is. I did not look into the show so this is news for me! I know he’s been wanting a consistent human soul for awhile and is crazy magic and does a lot of self-necromancy, so this doesn’t seem really out of the ordinary.

… So if Show Chucky met Ghost, and the two in some way were exposed to blood (either through one of them getting hurt or stumbling on a previous victim or something) the new question is Would Jimmy Kill A Child—

Idk the exact conditions to get Nica back into control, but Ghost can usually handle blood if he isn’t additionally stressed in some way (… like getting chased by an evil doll?—) so he might be able to stay lucid long enough to get her to the other PIE members before spiraling with his Own possession problem. Or the two could bond over their murder demons. (New Child for PIE to Adopt?)

Idk how this works ^^’

[gbhbl]

Single Slam: Crypta, Bad Juju, Blunt Force Karma, Swarm6ix, Major Moment, Nixil, Marc Hudson, Disguised Malignance, De’Lour, Astralborne, Caskets, Diosa, Parrilla, The Sun’s Journey Through the Night, and Amaranthe!

This week’s single slam features Crypta, Bad Juju, Blunt Force Karma, Swarm6ix, Major Moment, Nixil, Marc Hudson, Disguised Malignance, De’Lour, Astralborne, Caskets, Diosa, Parrilla, The Sun’s Journey Through the Night, and Amaranthe.

This week’s single slam features Crypta, Bad Juju, Blunt Force Karma, Swarm6ix, Major Moment, Nixil, Marc Hudson, Disguised Malignance, De’Lour, Astralborne, Caskets, Diosa, Parrilla, The Sun’s Journey Through the Night, and Amaranthe. You can read our thoughts about the latest singles from these bands below. Crypta – Trial of Traitors Brazilian death metal outfit Crypta have revealed another…

[emfunerals]

Prepaid Funerals | emfunerals.com.au

Prepaid funerals can prevent family members from being burdened with the expense of funeral services during their time of grief. They work by placing funds into an irrevocable trust account. These funds are accessible by a survivor once the estate has been settled.

These plans also protect families from rising funeral costs, as they lock in today’s prices. They typically include basic services, casket or urn, and death certificate fees.

Prepaid funerals are a good option for people with no insurance

Prepaid funerals are a great way to take the burden of managing final expenses off family members, who will already be dealing with emotional distress and grief. They allow you to make arrangements with a particular funeral home and pay for them in advance, either all at once or over time. They also provide savings and protection against price increases.

Most prepaid funerals plans are guaranteed to cover all prearranged services, as long as the account is current. They can be funded by a single premium or through monthly payments. The funds are typically deposited into an interest-bearing account or an irrevocable trust.

Before you purchase a prepaid funeral, review the options and costs carefully to ensure that it suits your budget and preferences. You should also discuss any legal and tax implications, such as the impact on Medicaid eligibility. Also, be sure to save copies of the contract and plan documents. You may need them later if your wishes change or you move.

They are a good investment

Prepaid funerals are an option that allows individuals to make their final wishes known and reduce the burden on their loved ones. However, there are a number of important considerations to consider before choosing this arrangement.

First, consider the cost of the plan and whether it includes funeral expenses and services. Many plans offer a one-time payment or monthly installments, which may help with budgeting. Prepaid funerals also provide protection from future price increases, which can save families a significant amount of money.

Finally, you should consider any legal or tax implications. Prepaid funeral funds are typically deposited in trust and held out of reach from creditors until after death. You can also set up a payable on death account through your bank, which avoids probate and provides access to beneficiaries immediately. These accounts are subject to state rules, though. Some states require a certain percentage of your account to be kept in reserve. This can impact eligibility for government assistance, so be sure to discuss this with your financial advisor.

They are a good option for people with limited funds

Prepaid funerals allow you to pay for your end-of-life arrangements ahead of time. These plans are often sold by funeral homes and can include a casket or urn, burial plot, headstone, visitation and viewing services, and funeral service. Some also cover death certificate fees and transportation costs. Prepaid funerals typically offer inflation protection, meaning that future price increases are covered by your initial payment.

However, some prepaid funeral plans lack flexibility and don’t allow for changes to be made after you die. This may be a problem if you move or your health declines. In addition, many states don’t have strong consumer protection laws on prepaid funds.

If you’re thinking about buying a prepaid funeral, make sure that the company keeps its promises. Ask whether the plan is guaranteed, and how much money you will receive if you cancel within a certain timeframe. You should also find out if the company offers other after-death financial arrangements that offer more flexibility.

They are a good option for people with limited time

Prepaid funerals are a good option for people who want to save their families money and avoid financial burdens. But it is important to choose the right plan. Before making a purchase, assess your needs and discuss them with a funeral home director. You can also consider alternatives, such as life insurance policies, which are more flexible and have less risk.

Another benefit of prepaid plans is that they lock in current prices, which can help shield your concierge services from future price increases in services, caskets, urns and burial plots. However, it is important to understand that the funeral home may not guarantee that prices will remain unchanged, and that prepayment does not absolve your family of the responsibility to provide additional funds.

Lastly, it is important to consult with an experienced estate planner to ensure that your prepaid funeral plan will be legally sound and reflect your true wishes. This will reduce the likelihood that your family members will need to argue over your final arrangements, which can be stressful for them during a time of mourning.

[countingnothings]

very occasionally, i get to work with SENIOR senior academics, and although my sample size is small, every single instance involves the quality of work your average second-year undergraduate would fail your class for producing. i'm talking everything from wildly inconsistent formatting and egregious language misuse to outdated information, complete lack of citation, and in many cases a complete lack of argumentation too. and like. at a certain point does trading on your presumably once-illustrious name to add yet another non-peer-reviewed pastiche monograph to your endless list of what seems like mostly junk publications matter? you have tenure AND seniority. you haven't had to teach a class you didn't want to in literal decades. they will carry you from the university in your casket and will probably continue paying you gobs of money for some time thereafter. it can't be about staying relevant in the field because nobody with a grain of academic awareness will cite this work as it presently exists! frankly if anything this kind of work tarnishes what may have at one point been a sterling reputation.

[ghostcultmagazine]

Catch up on what you missed this week in the world of Rock and Metal news with our show! #musicnews #rocknews #metalnews #interviews #newmusicfriday #vinylcollector #metalmerch #musicnews #metalnews #rocknews Thanks to @RobbZipp for turning us on to Streamyard! https://www.youtube.com/@RobbZipp We're raising money until 3/25/23 for Help Replace Ghost Cult's Broken Camera Gear. Can you help? Donate here https://ift.tt/ivgUrqa or buy us a Ko-fi https://ift.tt/3KUanWV or We now take Cashapp $ghostcultmag Liquid Death https://bit.ly/LiquidDeath Check out our weekly news show! 📰 We cover the major stories of the week in heavy music, rock, and metal news, tour dates, and festivals, New Music Friday, and more! #RIPGaryRossington, #RIPScottLivingston, Tim “Ripper” Owens, Lilith Czar, Lost Society, Kevin Rutmanis, Ghost Cult Magazine Podcast, Heavy Business Podcast, Glacially Musical reviews “Blue Album” by Baroness, Rocklahoma lineup announced, Bamboozle Fest is curious, Mammothfest 2, Glastonbury and Aftershock book Guns N Roses, Hypersp[ace Festival, the road to 70000 Tons of Metal 2024 begins, Camp Punksylvania, Furnace Fest Benefit Bash, Between The Buried and Me books “Paralax” II tour, Nita Strauss returns to Alice Cooper, Shaky Knees Late night shows announced, SmartPunks gets a SXSW showcase, Third Man Records at SXSW, Gravitoyd Heavy Music Fest, 20 Watt Tombstone, afi “Sing The Sorrow” this weekend in LA, YOB books tour dates with Cave In and Pallbearer, Black Sabbitch California tour, King’s X books first dates of 2023, Smashing Pumpkins and Jane’s Addiction down under, Unsane books Australian dates, Converge mini tour and studio update, Megadeth heads to Canada, Cradle of Filth - Devildriver - Black Satelite - Oni tour begins, The Black Dahlia Murder adds more dates, Heathen and Arrival of Autumn begins their tour, The Convalescence and Casket Robbery hit the road, Olivia Jean tour dates, Chelsea Grin and Carnifex co-headlien tour approaches, the Steve Ignorant Band plays Crass, Metallica “Obey Your Master” art in the Black Box, Tool shares rehearsal footage, Dave Lombardo solo album Wintersun drops a single, Omnium Gatherum new song and EP, Clutch live albums, RUSH “Signals” 40th anniversary boxed set, Beave and Butthead Season 2, Avenged Sevenfold (fake news) Hack, Brian Slage of Metal Blade has a new book, and in our Mailbag - Ronnie James Dio Funko POP!

[chubbycaucasianchristiancloseted]

Why is he given so much leeway?

Why is he given so much leeway? Democrats, just exchange the word Biden for Trump in this entire article, would you rate it the same? Of course not, ever single rumor that could not be verified would be listed within this article as fact and it would be listed as mostly true.

USA Today had to make a CORRECTION on this event! They didn’t even take the time to get all the facts. They originally rated this partly false while there was video evidence confirming he looked at his watch. It’s interesting that they make sure to state they cannot independently verify witness accounts of the ceremony

I don’t think Biden was purposefully disrespectful I think he is sick and does not have a full understanding of what he is doing / saying.

These favorable ratings/mistakes only go one way. If this article was about a Republican with all the same facts, they would have had a much harsher.

Direct Quote:

This story was updated Sept. 2 to note that Biden checked his watch multiple times at the dignified transfer event, including during the ceremony itself. The rating on this claim has been changed from partly false to missing context.

Biden has taken heat from all sides for the chaotic evacuation of U.S. troops, citizens and allies from Afghanistan. But this meme's comparison between Trump saluting and Biden checking his watch is missing context.

While Biden did pay his respects to the fallen service members, photos and video show he also checked his watch during the ceremony.

At that point, everyone else in the video also stands at ease, indicating that the ceremony was over.

Hoover said it happened after each casket was presented.

USA TODAY was unable to independently verify exactly how many times Biden looked at his watch.

Our rating: Missing context

Based on our research, we rate MISSING CONTEXT the claim that Trump saluted the caskets of fallen U.S. service members, while Biden checked his watch. The way Biden honored the 11 caskets presented at Dover Air Force Base, with a hand over his heart, was similar to how Trump paid respects to fallen service members during his presidency. However, Biden did check his watch at least three times, according to photos and video reviewed by USA TODAY. Several family members of fallen service members who attended the ceremony have criticized Biden for checking his watch.

[lieutenantxsinclair]

continued from x with @corditeheart

It was a rhetorical comment; Xu’s cigarette was all the response that could have been expected. No matter how old she grew, there were things that never changed. This was one of them: the batches upon batches of the dead returned from whatever they fell. Even the ages were the same. War favored the young. The valuable. It made it more staggering when they came home in boxes, used and abused. The only real difference was that these souls were paid for. Bought. Sold.

Helga long ago had steeled her to the emotions this all caused. Now she only viewed it with cynicism.

“People want there to be more meaning to it. Give romance to death, as if they didn’t send each and every one of them out to come back like this. The viewing and the pageantry around it all... it’s phonographic. It’s self-serving. And the living just look on, feeling so good about doing nothing until it’s too late, waiting to be in the position that they can be celebrated because the system chewed them up and spat them out.”

Hyne, she wanted a cigarette.

Xu’s deadpan offer almost made Helga laugh. She had been working freelance for so long, and it took her little vanishing act to draw the attention of the Establishment. But she knew how much Garden paid; she could see the appeal, especially for those escaping being poor. As much as things changed, they certainly did stay the same. It would be lying to say that the idea had not crossed her mind a few times.

How would Seifer take it?

“Wish I could say that was my decision alone to make,” she admitted, turning her gaze away from the procession of flag-covered caskets. “But it’s not. Seifer would have to know... and I doubt he’s going to let me out of his sight for the next five years after my little stunt.

“Not to mention I’d need to review the contract thoroughly. Being independent can be lucrative.” Said the woman who just worked for years for nothing because of blackmail. Don’t consider it. Don’t think it. Not for one single moment.

She reached up and began to fidget with her braid. Helga Sinclair was thinking.

“...Your medical department would need to know about my... condition.”