#this game came at a perfect time too with thinking about time loop stuff in general

[girlvinland]

Man. I completed the first Big loop tonight and I absolutely adore how this game handles the whole time loop thing in general, but also how it feels like it trains your brain the same way it’s doing with Sif. You see them get more and more accustomed to the looping process while you yourself start getting more and more confident with the mechanics, and once you complete the goal you’ve been told to complete, you’re like. Yay! I did it! And then the first Big reset happens and you’re like uhhhhhh oh no. And in your own confusion you’re staring at Sif who is just as confused as the fear and hopelessness start to set in and he begins to have a panic attack in the field w Mira there and you’re just like yep same buddy. Idk. The way they pull it off is so good!! I love when a game gets you right there mentally in the same spot as the MC and I’m trying to relish every second of it bc I know this one is going to be one I wish I could play for the first time again.

[uncuredturkeybacon]

𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 || 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

in which she never forgets

You never really liked the sound of your own voice until you heard it through someone else’s ears.

Specifically, through Paige Bueckers’ ears.

But that came later—after countless open mic nights, endless rewriting of choruses, and one very particular Thursday where she stood over your shoulder in the corner of the UConn student union and asked, with casual curiosity, “Is that you singing?”

You looked up from your screen, half-thinking it was a classmate. Your fingers were still hovering over your laptop keyboard, GarageBand open with an instrumental looping softly. You'd been tweaking a chorus for over an hour. Your earbuds dangled around your neck. You hadn’t even realized she could hear it.

There she was. The Paige Bueckers. Hoodie up. Smoothie in hand. The girl who practically carried UConn’s women’s basketball on her back and still had the nerve to look soft around the edges, like she didn’t even realize she was famous.

“Uh... yeah,” you answered, cautiously.

“It’s really good,” she said, sliding into the seat across from you like you’d invited her. “Kinda like something you’d hear in an indie film. But not corny. Honest. Real.”

You blinked.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about my voice.”

She smiled, and you were ruined.

You were a junior at UConn. Major: English. Minor: late-night songwriting sessions and existential spirals. Your social media had maybe 2,000 followers, most of whom followed you for clips of you singing in your dorm or behind coffee shop pianos. You weren’t famous. You didn’t want to be—not really. You just needed a place to put all the feelings you didn’t have room for in your chest.

Music helped with that.

And somehow, so did Paige.

You started running into her more often after that day. At the same dining hall. In the library café. Once at a random volleyball game where you were covering for a friend on student media duty. Every time, she’d walk right up to you like you were the only person she wanted to talk to.

Eventually, you started texting.

Then hanging out.

Paige wasn’t like other people. Not in the obvious way—the accolades, the cameras, the constant pressure—but in the quiet ways. She never talked about herself unless you asked. She asked you questions with that soft tilt of her head, genuinely curious. Like she cared about your favorite chord progression, your mom’s homemade cinnamon rolls, or how you came up with metaphors for heartbreak like you’d been through it a thousand times, even if you hadn’t.

One night, you were sprawled out on the grass, heads close, stargazing because your dorms were too stuffy and neither of you wanted to say goodbye yet. The grass was a little damp, but she didn’t complain. She wore the same hoodie she always did—oversized and worn at the cuffs.

You glanced at her. “You ever think about how weird this is?”

She turned to you. “What is?”

“This. Us. Hanging out. You’re... well, you. And I’m just some girl who writes songs that barely hit 3,000 plays on SoundCloud.”

She smiled at the sky. “Yeah, but you’re also the girl who says stuff like ‘my lyrics sound like bruises under a microscope.’ That stuck with me.”

Your heart did a little somersault.

It was after one of those nights—one of those perfect, incomplete nights where you thought maybe she’d kiss you but she didn’t—that the song began to write itself.

You sat cross-legged in your room, guitar across your lap, the taste of Paige’s laugh still fresh in your mouth. You strummed a lazy chord progression and started singing without thinking.

Let’s fall in love for the night And forget in the morning

Because that’s what it felt like. Being with her was like suspending reality for a little while. Like pretending that labels and timelines and futures didn’t matter.

You remembered her telling you about the pressure of being perfect. About fans expecting her to be a leader even when she was scared. About how lonely it got, being seen as a brand more than a person.

Play me a song that you like You can bet I’ll know every line

You had this unspoken thing where you’d trade playlists. She loved old-school Drake. You had a soft spot for Hozier and Arctic Monkeys. One night, she sang part of your original song back to you—off-key, badly timed, completely sincere—and your heart nearly imploded.

I’m the girl that your girl hoped that you would avoid Don’t waste your eyes on jealous guys Fuck that noise

You remembered the frat party where some guy tried to chat you up and Paige appeared like a shadow at your side, arm slipping easily around your waist. She didn’t say much, just stared the guy down until he left.

She never claimed you. Not out loud.

But sometimes her fingers lingered a little too long on your wrist. Her gaze dropped to your lips mid-sentence. She called you “trouble” like it was her favorite compliment.

I know better than to call you mine

That line was the hardest to write.

Because it was the truest.

You performed “Let’s Fall in Love for the Night” at a lowkey open mic downtown. The coffee shop was half-full. You were wearing your favorite thrifted jacket, fingers trembling slightly on the guitar neck. You didn’t know if she’d come.

She did.

Stood in the back, hands in her hoodie pocket, eyes on you like you were the only one singing in the room.

Your voice steadied as you hit the bridge. She tilted her head, like she already knew it was about her.

And maybe she did.

After the set, she found you outside under the buzzing streetlight.

“You wrote that about me,” she said.

It wasn’t a question.

You tried to play it cool. “Maybe.”

She stepped closer, blue eyes searching yours.

“‘I know better than to call you mine’... that’s the part that hurts.”

You swallowed. “I just didn’t think... I mean, you’re Paige Bueckers. You’ve got the world in your hands. You probably don’t need me complicating things.”

“I don’t want perfect,” she said. “I want real. I want you.”

The silence between you stretched long and electric.

“I want you too,” you said.

She reached out, tentative, like she was afraid you'd disappear. Her fingers brushed your cheek. Then her lips were on yours—soft, steady, certain. Like a verse you’d been humming for weeks but finally got right.

You didn’t expect anything from the video. Not really.

You posted it on a Tuesday night, around 11:47 PM — the sweet spot between vulnerability and impulse. You hadn’t even planned to upload it, but Paige had been curled up next to you on your dorm bed, hoodie sleeves covering her hands as she watched you scroll through takes.

“You should post it,” she murmured, voice low and close, her chin resting on your shoulder.

You glanced at her. “It’s not perfect. I messed up the bridge a little.”

Paige shrugged. “That’s what makes it you. It’s raw. Honest. Besides…” She tapped the screen to pause the video where your lips were slightly parted, eyes closed mid-verse. “You look like you mean every word.”

You did.

You really, really did.

So you posted it.

let’s fall in love for the night and hopefully we never forget (original)

At first, it was just your usual: classmates, a few mutuals, supportive friends in the music department. The likes trickled in. Comments followed — a few emojis, a couple of “who hurt you” replies.

But by the next morning, it had over 20,000 views.

Then 40,000 by lunch.

Then 75,000 by dinner.

You were halfway through writing a midterm essay on “tragic romantic archetypes in modern poetry” (which, ironically, felt very on brand), when your phone started blowing up.

Not from strangers. From people you knew. Teammates of Paige’s. A few students from your songwriting workshop. Even your high school choir teacher messaged you.

But it wasn’t until Paige commented that the floodgates really opened.

Her profile — with its little blue check and almost a million followers — slid into your notifications like thunder in the middle of a quiet room.

“i know better now.”

And that was it.

No name. No tag. But if people had been speculating before, now they were spiraling.

You looked over at Paige, who was lying back against the pillows, scrolling through her own phone like nothing had happened.

“…You know better now?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

She glanced at you, playful. “I do.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” She sat up, tucking one leg under her. “I know better than to just sit back and act like this is temporary.”

Your heart stuttered.

“Paige…”

She took your hand, warm and calloused from years of basketball, and ran her thumb along your knuckles. “I know we never talked about, like, what this is. But I’ve been thinking. I don’t want to be someone who you write songs about and then pretend it didn’t mean anything. I want to be the one who shows up to every one of your open mics. I want to be the reason your next love song doesn’t have a sad ending.”

You blinked, breath caught somewhere between your lungs and your throat.

“I didn’t mean for it to get so big,” you said softly. “The video. The lyrics. I just… I wanted to remember what it felt like.”

“I’m glad you did.” She leaned in, forehead resting against yours. “Because now everyone knows what I already knew.”

You swallowed hard. “What’s that?”

“That I’m yours. And you’re mine. If you want to be.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Yeah. I want to be.”

Her lips were on yours in the next second — slow, reverent, sweet. Like punctuation on the end of a sentence you’d been too scared to say out loud.

That weekend, Paige posted a story of the two of you sitting at a keyboard in your dorm. Your hand was guiding hers over the keys. You were both laughing. There was no caption. Just a soft filter and the subtle sound of your song playing faintly in the background.

You didn’t need to define it. Not right away. But people started to connect the dots.

IS THIS PAIGE’S GIRLFRIEND?!? She wrote that song. She WROTE THAT SONG ABOUT HER. I’m gonna cry in the corner brb. Wuhluhwuh??

And you?

You weren’t just some girl with a guitar anymore.

You were her girl with a guitar. Still making late-night demos and scribbling lyrics in the margins of your notes. Still performing for small rooms with too much heart.

Only now, when you sang that chorus—

Let’s fall in love for the night And forget in the morning

—you knew you never really had to forget.

Because Paige stayed.

And in the mornings, she was there — hoodie-wrapped, sleepy-eyed, fingers tracing idle chords along your spine.

You still wrote about her. Only now, your love songs had softer endings. Warmer ones.

Ones that stayed.

[theinstagrahame]

It's a bad day, and I've been dragging my heels on this. But, I got a bunch of neat new TTRPG stuff in October, so here's what landed in my mailbox.

Break!! - A few years ago, I stumbled on some art on Twitter. It was fun, it was vibrant, and it felt inviting. I wanted to know more, looked into the artist, and discovered it was spot art for an upcoming RPG called Break!! So, I kept an eye on it. The book is beautiful, well laid-out, and really cool, so maybe one good thing came from Twitter*.

The Electric State - Tales from the Loop and Things from the Flood have been pretty high on my "To Play" lists for years. A follow-up, set in a similar (or the same?) world was kind of an instant pickup. Not as interested in the movie, but the game seems pretty rad.

The Geologist's Primer - I picked up the Herbalist's Primer when it came out, and was really impressed with the quality and care that went into it, so when I saw "That but for rocks" was in the works, I was definitely already in. Also excited for the follow up "Mushrooms next time".

Starkhollow Hall - I accidentally fell into a Gothic Fiction kick over Spooky Month, so the timing of this was perfect. I don't know a ton about the GUMSHOE system, but I do feel like what I know about it makes it a perfect fit for the genre. Gothic heroines (and I guess heroes) are at their best when they know there's a dangerous mystery at the heart of what's happening around them, and go looking for it anyway.

Forsaken - Kyle Tam is, honestly, a designer to watch. I picked this up because it was part of an Afterthought Committee project, which is a team I've also really enjoyed work from (my game Water Landing is built off of their game Cast Away). Does a better job of establishing a sort of grimdark/Soulsbourne vibe than some stuff that explicitly tries to.

Iron Edda Reforged - The pitch for this caught me immediately: Cyberpunk Norse Mythology. Tracy Barnett is another Designer to Watch, and I really like all of their stuff--haven't played the original Iron Edda, but have heard it on Party of One and really dug it. Was really hyped to see this come into being.

Electrum Archive v2 - I went through a Weird Sci-Fi phase this year, and the original Electrum Archive was an early pick for it. I really loved the world, the way each class worked differently, and the magic/currency/MacGuffin that it used. Obviously I wanted more, because the second book is here.

Alice is Missing - Silent Falls - My friends and I have been talking about the prospect of another Alice is Missing game since playing the first one about two years ago. It was a really memorable experience, partly due to the game's really compelling design, and to some of the in-moment decisions we made (I played the facilitator character, who starts the game having returned after a long absence, and another player immediately got pissed at them for sorta abandoning the group. it created an interesting play dynamic for the whole session)

Kill Him Faster - I picked up a previous Kovidae Games book as a lark: a collection of exercise-based RPGs. I nearly ignored their other stuff, but this had a pretty compelling pitch: What if time-travel was invented mostly so people could speedrun murdering Hitler. Since Eat the Reich came out, I've thought a bit about Hitler Revenge Fantasy as a genre, and honestly, I'm kinda into it. He was a loser, and deserves to be reduced to a video game villain and killed over and over again; so, yeah. Let's kill him faster next time.

Splat (issue 5) - I'm not usually one for essays and interviews, but this is a zine featuring and by some folks I really like and respect, and this one is packed with thoughts about the state of the indie TTRPG scene and industry from a diverse and immensely talented group. It's honestly a must-read.

(Already getting a few things for the next edition, but also feeling too garbage after the Clusterfuck Election to think about doing anything else today...)

---

footnote: * Technically, two good things came from Twitter. I also once expressed sorrow that I'd missed out on a limited T-shirt from a web comic artist that said "Sorry, Glenn, the only Beck I listen to has two turntables and a microphone", and the creator saw it and had an extra in my size.

[taffywabbit]

it's so hard for me to think of what any of my personal GOTY picks might be this year, because every time I think about one of the really kickass games I played/beat for the first time this year (that's what I'm going off of btw, not release date) I then have to remember "oh right I also played Pseudoregalia in like. February. and then proceeded to play it 90 more times, including once yesterday. I think there's some compelling evidence that I might've liked that game a little bit more than this other stuff" lol

...that being said, I think my other top contenders for stuff I played during 2024 would be (in no particular order):

- Noita (obviously. I can't believe I ALSO didn't start playing this until early January, it feels like it's been way longer. funny wizard explode)

- Cavern of Dreams (easily one of the best attempts I've ever seen to recreate not only the visual style of an N64 game, but the precise FEELING of playing one as a kid and exploring for weird secrets)

- the Paper Mario TTYD remake (I ended up going for 100% on this one, it's honestly some of the most fun I've EVER had streaming a game. I've never seen a remake knock it out of the park this hard, this shit is absolutely packed full of loving detail)

- Mario + Rabbids: Sparks of Hope (I haven't quite finished it yet but I'm confident in including it here. friendship ended with Fire Emblem, I actually just need more of whatever this is)

- Zelda: Ultimate Trial (an OoT romhack that has no business being as good as it is. I jokingly called it "the Undertale Yellow of Zelda fangames" when I finished it and honestly I still stand by that)

- uhhh sure I guess Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom can go on here too (it's not a new series favorite or anything but it was still a ton of fun and I loved collecting funny Zelda monsters like Pokemon lol. very solid dungeon/puzzle design too, a real return to form)

and I guess if you want my LEAST favorite games of 2024 I'll include those too but put them under a cut:

- Corn Kidz 64 (kinda janky and imprecise controls coupled with overly punishing platforming, a really unsatisfying sense of progression, and humor and general vibes that I just found to be kinda rancid and offputting overall)

- Penny's Big Breakaway (I was SO excited to play this one, but was really disappointed. the level design is just kinda baffling and frequently makes you waste time doing side objectives for no reward or loops you back on yourself, the controls are weird and make it extremely easy to misinput and die accidentally, and it constantly throws score/combo elements in your face but nearly every move you can do will instantly take away all of your momentum unless it's 100% perfect. I couldn't even force myself to finish this one. at least the music whips ass tho)

- Zelda II: The Adventure of Link (I've started and quit this one many times but this year I forced myself to play it to completion on my switch, making liberal use of savestates. it didn't help that much. I wrote a whole reflection earlier this year about the ambitious and interesting stuff this game tried to do and why it never quite works - I think I only posted it on cohost, I should probably retrieve that before it gets deleted)

- Dr Robotnik's Ring Racers (listen if you didn't have any attachment to SRB2 Kart before this "sequel" came out then I probably can't really explain to you why I loathe this thing so much in terms of actual design differences. all I WILL say is that I'm furious we got this, which is a completely different fucking game that's super overtuned to solely appeal to a very specific kind of highly technical player niche and scare everyone else away, as a REPLACEMENT for just getting a goddamn update to add CPUs to SRB2 Kart. it's all I ever wanted, and now because they turned that update into DRRR instead, I will never get it)

also I just think it's funny to put it in perspective here that I'm choosing NOT to put Donkey Kong 64 on this list, which I did 101% complete earlier this year. so that's the bar, anything on my Least Faves list is stuff I enjoyed less than the experience of streaming the entirety of DK64. I really did have more fun beating Beaver Bother 3 times than playing Corn Kidz. I don't know what that says about me

[itsnotgray]

miscommunication, a jamie and trevor fic | part 1

lower case is intended! also… please be kind.

it felt like it had been weeks since you’d seen, much less felt trevor or jamie. when you’d wake up, they’d both be gone- and if they weren’t, they’d stay suspiciously close to eachother, seemingly drifting farther and farther from you, which gave you plenty of time to think.

“are they disgusted by me now?” “have they thought sharing was weird this whole time?” “are they kicking me out?”

it was driving you insane. it was just a never ending loop. finally, by the third week, you’d had enough.

it was after they had gotten back from a home game, winning the game in OT. they came in, on a high, but we’re instantly shut down by the blank look on your face as they walked in the door.

“sit.” you said firmly, gesturing to the couch. they quickly dropped their bags, making quick pace towards the couch, looking at one another in confusion.

once they sat down, you took a deep breath, and then let the overbearing thoughts loose in a nervous ramble.

“are you guys tired of me?” came the first exasperated question, crossing your arms as you began to pace anxiously. “does sharing bother you guys more than you said? are one of you guys trying to date?” you kept on, words getting faster, hands getting shakier, vison getting blurrier as the tears accumulated.

jamie and trveor sat wide eyed, mentally contemplating just how much they had fucked things up. until you let out the question that seemed to be bothering you the most. “FUCK- are you guys kicking me out? if that’s the case then please just tell me, so i can start packing my stuff, but please don’t-“ and finally they each reached out, both extending one of their hands out to rest on your thighs, effectively halting your pacing.

you lifted your head up from it’s hung position, tears spilling out at a much faster rate.

“sweetheart” jamie muttered in a sorrow-filled tone, as trevor stroked your thigh soothingly. at his utterance, you bursted into sobs. “that’s the one isn’t it? god i’m so stupid, i’m sorry, you guys should’ve just said-“

quickly, they both jumped to their feet, jamie wrapping you in a hug, tucking your head in his neck, running his hands soothingly through your hair, and trevor standing to your left, running a hand rhythmically up and down your back. “no baby no. there’s a lot of things we should’ve said, and that certainly isn’t one of them.”

at his assurance, you carefully lifted your head from jamie’s neck, tearful eyes meeting trevor’s. “then what?”

trevor reached one of his hands towards your face, carefully gripping your chin, holding it so you’d keep his gaze. “y/n- the last thing on either of our minds is kicking you out. to try and eliminate confusion as fast as possible- we both like you baby. we both like this thing we have going, and just so happened to both catch feelings for you. me and jimmy started talking about it a few weeks ago, but we were too nervous to bring it up.”

and you froze. how would it work? what if someone got too jealous? is that even something you’d want? and then you thought. the past few months have been amazing- both boys have been as perfect as two boys as roommates could be. you could create mental lists miles long of the all the good things about the duo. on that note, a life with them seemed almost more desired than a life without one or the other.

the longer your silence went on for, the more dejected trevor’s face got, and the looser jamie’s grip on your body seemed.

once you finally snapped out of the trance, you noticed the apprehension of the two boys growing. so you made a split decision.

first, you reached your hand up, cupping jamie’s jaw, and bringing his lips to meet yours in a deep kiss. then you abruptly pulled away, and reached an arm out to the dejected trevor, who had seemed to have grown apprehensive at your “jamie-centric” reaction. once you had a firm enough grip on his shoulders, you brought him in to a bruising kiss.

after finally pulling away from trevor, you spun around to jamie, growing fearful of their reactions to your actions.

“i-im sorry if that’s not what you guys meant, i like the idea of being with both of you too, but i’m not sure how-“

and jamie quickly pulled you towards him, his lips meeting yours once again. once it seemed your erratic behavior had left your body, he pulled away, taking your jaw in both of his hands to make you meet his gaze.

“sweetheart, i think i can speak for myself, trevor, and the hard-on trevor is sporting in his pants. that was hot- and exactly what we meant. you have no apologizing to do. if anything, we owe you weeks of apologies sweet girl, for ever making you feel like we didn’t want you.” he spoke softly yet assuredly. after his last sentence, he glanced over your shoulder, towards trevor, and then back to you.

“i think your in for a night of apologies baby- don’t you think so z?”

you timidly glanced towards trevor, trying to scope out if his response affirmed what you thought to be jamie’s innuendos.

trevor took a step towards you and jamie, with his trademark cocky grin on his face, and with his grin, came your confirmation, which sent heat flooding to your core. but alas his grin was the prequel to his following words.

“i think so too jimmy. our girl’s been so good, huh? so proud of you for telling us how you feel. me and jimmy are gonna make sure that by the end of the night, all you can do is feel us sweetheart. we’re gonna be the only things your pretty little brain can think of.”

his mini speech sent waves of lust throughout your body, alighting your every nerve. he took another step closer, side by side with jamie now, reaching his hands up to harshly grip both of your breasts in his hands, making you to let out high pitched whimpers. at your inviting noises,

jamie’s hands joined trevor’s to explore your oh so familiar body. and while the two sets of hands continued their journey across the plains of your body, three pairs of feet began to clumsily stumble towards the bedroom.

[everchanging-cryptid]

live reacting to The Amazing Digital Circus Pilot because I just realized it came out

it’s all pixelly and then not, neat Ooh, ringmaster’s a fun character, love him

oh, Cain, like the Bible brother maybe?

Time loop?

Lol the flowerpot glitching through the floor

Hostile VR, nice

Haha, no swearing

I would very much like to live in this building

Can relate to Kinger, I too would love to chat with people about an insect collection

The ribbon guy reminds me of Will from the webcomic Nevermore

Blue screening when you need to come up with a list, same

I can’t tell if he’s gonna be a scary character or a funny character, that’s really cool

Why does the moon want to fuck him

Why are you like this

Ooh he’s hiding something yeah

Ok, he does not have control over minds, good to know, and he said “one of the few” so maybe he can’t control other things

Never tell a fae-like entity “I don’t care, just pick anything”

“Whaddya think of: *mouth keysmash*” lol

Pomni, that’s a fun name

“YOU PARASITE!!!” Had me laughing for like 2 minutes straight

Just pop the interrupting people

r u b b e r h o s e a n i m a t i o n b u n n y yeah favorite character material right there

I love how they all just talk over each other but you can still hear what they’re each saying

Assigned “Most Mentally Stable” at mental breakdown

Ooh, I see a bunch of X-ed out faces on the doors, did they get permakilled or something?

The framed artworks make me incredibly happy

Uhoh, Pomni went to the petrified place /reference

Where did you get a centipede???

Ooh that’s not good

he reminds me of a corrupted gem from Steven universe

Ooh that looks painful ouch

Love those broken object physics, beautiful

I love the sense of perspective, when the camera is further back and Pomni looks so isolated

I think Kinger might be the most relatable character tbh

Kaufmo just is not funny is he

God the comedic timing for Jax is PERFECT

RADICAL

Love a good bowling pin joke

Ok I take it back the comedic timing on Kinger is the best I was crying at the perfectly cut scream

Hmm I think poor kiddo Pomni here needs a break to cry

Ooh water cube room I like that

oh that’s terrifying they can just shoot faces at you

Well that’s certainly not Cain

Pfft they rock paper scissors and he won but did the thing anyway

“Oh.” *watches his hands float away*

HIS EYES DID THE CLOCK THING

Can the next person teleported in be a therapist because hot damn have we got some trauma up in here

:o barrel of monkeys! :D

NOOOO THE MONKEYS

Oh door?

Nope nope nope nope nope nope

Oh that’s some backrooms shit right there

Hot damn take a chill pill bro you already got him he’s dead

“This is dumb and weird.” Yeah im gonna quote that forever now thanks

“Ah thank GOD you’re okay, you didn’t experience a game show in there did you?” “Uhhhh… I— What are you talking about?”

Abstracted, like becoming abstract? Becoming just a vague feeling, a mere idea? Ooh that’s some good stuff right there

I too love the sound of a silent moving staircase

Oh this is gonna be fuckin terrifying I see how it is

Musty old computer causes mental breakdown? Interesting

C&A CAIN AND ABEL I FREAKIN CALLED IT YES oh that has some interesting implications now doesn’t it hmm souls trapped in a computer perhaps?

Oh shit it’s the void

I’ll take 5 wacky watches please

ha fourth wall break

oh Pomni is actually broken aren’t they

oh are those all the others who were crossed out

ooh healing spell

Pomni is not okay

analysis on digital eating okay sure

oh that’s an earth shattering ending oh my gosh I feel like I just experienced eldritch enlightenment

Can not wait for more possible episodes! It’s incredible, I highly recommend checking it out! ^^

[irusanw4]

could you survive a time loop if one happened tomorrow?

Depends on your definition of survive! If it's a Ground Hog Day situation where I just have to keep going for a Very Long Time, I think I'd only die like. A twentieth of the time. And I'd probably not do it often unless I'm TRULY out of stuff to do [and considering the existence of the internet, that would take a while!]

I think I would get very very bored, and very very lonely. But I do trust a particular friend to believe me if I say I'm in a time loop, and a couple others would find it very funny that I got stuck in one immediately after I started playing In Stars and Time but I could probably get them to at least humor me. And of course, with loops I'd get better at convincing them. My biggest issue would honestly be the time limitation, since it's just one day, but depending on what it considers to be a day, I could probably finagle staying up late! If the time loop considers any sleep to be the end of a day, that would make naps a no-go, but as long as I don't take any painkillers I can go without a nap, my leg'll just hurt a bit. I'd probably get a bit sick of the same foods day in and day out, but I could also try to focus on games hard enough to not feel hungry for the duration of the time loop! I think the most annoying thing would be working on my crochet wouldn't make any progress, BUT it does mean I could try things out and get faster at crocheting without any consequences or needing to get new yarn! I think I'd be very bad at hiding the time loop just because I'm not very good at hiding my emotions. Oooh wait, I'm gonna have funnel cakes tomorrow! That could be a nice treat to have sometimes, even if I'd probably get sick of it by loop 50. I'd also get very good at keeping track of where my things are, since I'd always find them in the same spot! I could also learn all sorts of things, I could watch shows, man there's so much I could do to fill the time! Oh my writing wouldn't stick around though, and neither would my art :( that would suck! I imagine I'd have a few dozen crises about the existence of time loops and the implications that has for the universe as a whole, honestly. I'd probably hit at least loop 100 before purposefully doing anything dangerous, just because I'd be scared that it's permanent. I'd probably either continue playing In Stars and Time because Siffrin's just like me [trapped in a time loop] or stop playing it because it's like when airport security can't play Papers, Please since it reminds them too much of their job. I'd probably end up driving off into the middle of nowhere a lot, since I'd need the new stimuli. I could just see how far I can drive in a day! I think that if it came down to it, I'd figure out ways to change things up, I'd just feel incredibly isolated by the experience and probably live in a constant state of mixed feelings about the abject horror of the time loop versus the perfect consistency of the time loop until the day I died. I'd be alive, but changed irreversibly by the trauma.

[romanscool]

HIYAAAA it's Ocean 😽

First of all..... Happy holidays!!!!!🎄💫🩷

I know it's only November, but I'm really feeling the Christmas spirit

Anyways I came on to tumblr as I do once every 3 weeks and I saw you posted this ask game thingy so I'm about to bombard you with a bunch of these asks 😼

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

✍ Do you have a beta reader?

🏡What is your perfect writing envrionment?

💻What do you write your stories on? Laptop, phone, paper, etc.

🍎What's something you learned while researching for a fic?

Yuh

hi hi hi!!!

happy holidays to you too!! and to be honest, I have been really excited for the Christmas and new years' spirit this year too for some reason unknown,,, maybe it's cause im excited for January haha

im so glad for that!! thanks so much for this ask <33

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

I actually don't listen to music much while I write,, I'd much rather play a collection of F1 tiktok on loop haha - I have this weird thing where I need repetitive sounds to concentrate, something familiar that my brain doesn't need to focus on :') it's the neurodivergence in me I guess

i've had quite a long period of playing songs like 'We'll Never Have Sex' by Leith Ross, 'No One Noticed' by The Marias (or even 'White Ferrari' by Frank Ocean) on loop while writing the last couple chapters of wcmn,,, so if that helps, I like soft dull songs haha

✍ Do you have a beta reader?

I don't! sometimes I think that's unfortunate, considering English is very much not my first language, but I also quite like my weird syntaxes and made up words so,,, im happy about that :)

🏡What is your perfect writing envrionment?

definitely tucked deep in my bed with my cat sleeping on my shins (that little guy finds this weird weirdly comforting, though it's got to be a little awkward no?)! I'd much rather have background noise (like my repetitive tiktoks) than no noise, and sometimes find having someone -anyone- doing their thing next to me to be quite focusing. not even talking, just me writing and them doing whatever helps me concentrate for a reason I do not know haha

I've often found public transportation (like the bus or the tram) to be very inspiring too! though usually I only write my prompts/outlines/first drafts there because I tend to be easily distracted and write words and sentences that hold no meaning even to me

💻What do you write your stories on? Laptop, phone, paper, etc.

most of it all is written on my laptop (I like the little sounds of the keyboard) because I find that I write faster and more precisely on it. I sometimes write on my phone, especially if im on public transports, but my train of thought is quick to go everywhere and not make any sense,,,

🍎What's something you learned while researching for a fic?

so many things!!

I think the most 'impressing' is the whole learning dutch language, because I did initially start for wcmn and the dutch dialogue in it (though I've had to use some google translate also,,, sorry duolingo I guess)

a fun one is all the little baby/kid/teen maxiel stuff that I've also put in wcmn and it's little 'epilogue': all the little facts about Daniel being scared of the dark and max having his mum's dress from when he was born as a plushy is all canon!! I wish I could've added more of those in, but I tend to info dump a little too much, so I've decided to keep it to that ;') (for more info on this feel free to check the teen!maxiel tag though!!)

thank you so much for this ask ocean!! it's been lovely to answer all of those little emoji <3

hope you liked my answer, even if they're a little boring or over explained sometimes,,, I hope to hear from you again soon (even if its in three weeks time <3)

lots of love, roman

[just-a-carrot]

hi carrot

its kinda a long speech and not really a great one so i’m sorry if you’re not used to criticism(i haven’t seen any of it yet) but i’ve been talking about it with my friend and i can’t hide the urge to ask you what happened

i’ve been following OW updates for a looong long time now, and i feel like what you started with isn’t really what you’re going with right now, i’m not telling you that you should change the whole plot that you have or anything, i’m just saying that OW kinda lost this vibe that i’ve got while playing the first 4 arcs

before it was a disturbing, kinda frightening, messed-up in its own way story, with fucked-up characters and the same fucked-up backgrounds. while playing it i’ve felt like you didn’t give a shit about how gory or wicked the novel is because it’s just how the story was! you made me feel conflicted emotions towards every character, everyone had their EXTREMELY bad side but in the same amount a good one, and nothing of it was left aside like it’s nothing. Technically, the only reason why i loved OW so much is because of how much crazy stuff was going on, like literally my heart was on FIRE after each arc, i was only thinking about how fucked up(in a good way) this story is!

So… Since the first part of Arc 5 i knew that it wasn’t it anymore, everything felt too rushed and too…kind? I mean, i didn’t really get the whole thing about how Iggy and Genzou just let all of the things that Gidget did slide, they didn’t even really apologise for anything? I get that it’s wonderland who messed up their minds and finally they’re free from it whoohoo but no way that it could be THAT easily forgiven. I liked the ending of second part but? Genzou was a fucking dick for more than a decade and literally ruined Orlam, and definitely did something terrible at some point(that you decided to keep behind the scenes(i’m talking about the one thing that he regrets)), it’s just NO WAY that a “sorry” would cut it. He didn’t do anything yet to earn it. And Iggy isn’t a perfect guy either. It’s okay for now, no time for heart to heart talks and stuff, but it would be really sad if everyone just gonna accept things just how they are.

so um shit that’s a LOT of words, but i just wanted to tell that it feels like you’re either holding back or just decided to turn everything into semi-sweet story about forgiveness and mistakes and power of friendship?? i know that everyone like it right now, and you really really improved on technical and artistic side, which is fantastic

i’m just curious about how do you see OW as of now, what story is it, did i missed some parts which made me think like it’s a whole another thing? feel free to tell me “YOU’RE WRONG” if it’s really like that

hey!! thanks so much for sending this in. i don't mind criticism at all and i would never tell you that you're wrong 🤣 i know fully well that this is far from a perfect game and there are many things wrong with it. both simply because nothing is ever perfect and also because my skills and capacity as a solo developer have their limits (even putting my own mental health on any given day aside alkdjfalsd)

this turned out really long and rambling so i've put it under a cut LOL

that's a good question tbh -- if something changed since i began working on the game. quite a few things have i will admit. many plot points weren't developed until mid-way through production. character arcs went in new ways. new characters came into being that i had never planned for. so i do think you're exactly right in that yeah, the game has taken a lot of turns and the vibe of the end is probably quite different from the earlier stuff, in particular Arc 1. actually my very first iteration of the initial idea was just to have the whole game be Arc 1! 🤣 it was only after sitting on it a while (still long before actual production began) that i happened upon the idea of the loops and then began thinking about each of the characters' initial core arcs. and then by the time production of each arc came around, they changed even more as i actually began writing them. i think Arc 2 was probably the one that changed the least from my initial ideas. then starting in Arc 3, things began to change a lot. and that compounded more and more, to the point that Arc 4 was almost nothing like my initial idea aside from the fact that I knew it would focus on Gidget. for instance, plot points like after-prom and everything involved didn't even come into being until I was working on Arc 3. so there were a LOT of like, plot lines that didn't really work their way into the game until various points throughout production. and a lot of that just comes down to me living with the characters and story more and discovering new things about them while writing. and also adding more and more of myself??? i think that was also a big thing. the more i worked on the game, the more of myself went into the game, and the more "courageous" i felt about what i was putting into the game. i will be completely honest here and say that when i released Arc 1, i was actually afraid of saying there was going to be some "gay stuff" in it 🤣💦 i was nervous about being so open and out there with my creative works, especially as someone who's a bit older and keeps to themself more in general already. but then the more i worked on the game, the more courageous i felt, and the more of myself went into the game, and the more open i started to feel, which allowed me to be myself a lot more. in a way, in my head at least, my mindset from back from when i was working on Arc 1 is a lot different from now in that at the time, my goal was to just create something horrific and more in the general horror category, but now it's become much more personal to me and i don't really care as much about being shocking and horrific as i do about about the characters themselves and how important they've become to me and how my own personal stories have evolved through them. so it is perhaps a bit of a different mindset and is probably evident even in the way i talk about the game too 💦💦💦 and i also realize that this might be not what a lot of people like, especially if they liked the game more for the dark and horrific aspects. so for that i apologize to anyone who also feels let down by some of the directions the game has taken that may not be in line with their expectations 😞

i'm also really sorry that Arc 5 has felt rushed to you so far. for me personally it doesn't feel rushed at all as i've been working on Arc 5 on its own for over a year now and it's still not done and i've burnt out multiple times on it 🤣 but i can understand how on a player side it could feel that way, especially with all the other unmet expectations about the game and story. i have always been heading towards what i refer to as a "light in the tunnel" with the ending of the game. i think even as far back as responding to comments on itch from like Arc 1 and Arc 2 era i wrote things like that, especially when people would ask about the eventual ending LOL perhaps because with my previous game it did NOT have any kind of hopeful ending. but i did definitely want to lead into an ending that wasn't completely hopeless. that even if not everything was "fixed" (since there are some things that just will never be fixed) it's at least better off than things were before. but i freely admit that the way i handle reaching that point might not meet everyone's expectations (and this is one of my biggest fears and anxieties tbh... because there's been so much build-up and people have a lot of expectations now and there's basically no way i'm going to meet them all 💦)

Arc 5 is interesting to me in that there are quite a few things about it that actually do match my initial ideas for it almost exactly -- even back from when i was still working on Arcs 1 and 2 and just thinking towards the future. for instance, i actually started randomly working on some Arc 5 sprites in december of 2021 (and accidentally left them in the Arc 2 game files that some people found LOL). they were similar to what they would eventually become (orlam was basically zombiefied, gidget was wearing a very fancy dress, and genzou looked mentally traumatized), though i didn't end up finishing/using them as there were slight things that changed about them and also my drawing skills had gotten better by the time Arc 5 rolled around too lol. so i did have a general idea of how each character arc would culminate even if i didn't have all the ideas worked out specifically (most of the final details weren't worked out until i was literally writing things). i also drew this picture in summer of 2022 while working on Arc 4 that would eventually become a basically 1-to-1 CG because the scene was so visceral in my mind:

however there were a lot of other parts of Arc 5 that didn't come into being until i was working on it. cecil's involvement for instance, since cecil himself didn't come into being until Arc 4. jerry's involvement, since jerry didn't become more of an actual character until i developed OFW (rather than just the one-off joke in Arc 2). the final collector scene was one i knew would happen but didn't know exactly how i was gonna do it until i actually wrote it (and was also influenced by my work on OFW). the iggy dolls i did come up with somewhat early on, though their kind of quirky manner and scenes didn't really develop until i was actually working on it. and the spider idea for gidget's finale was something that didn't develop until i was actively working on Arc 5. the scenes in orlam's castle were actually pretty close to my original visions for them (i even had the music picked out for the chase scene already since like Arc 1 or 2 LOL) even if it wasn't until i was working on 5.15 that i figured out exactly how to do the final genzou/orlam bit (i had a few different potential iterations in my mind for it, though they all had similar vibes)

i'm probably writing way too much at this point 🤣 but i guess i just wanted to show how indeed a lot has changed since production started and Arc 1 was released, though there were still other parts that did remain at least basically the same in spirit. so i guess it's kind of a mixed bag! but you're definitely right that no matter how many specific scenes might have remained the same or changed, the overall vibe likely has changed, which all comes down to me and how i've changed and how my approach and mindset has also changed

to that end, i can really only apologize 😞 the game is in a place where now where i'm happier than i've been with it since all of production, but i freely admit it might have turned into something that people don't like anymore or that doesn't meet their expectations. also that i could have done things better -- devoted more time to it, written it better, developed the characters better. i am only human and so the things i create will have many flaws. i'm always trying to improve! but no matter how much i improve there will always still be issues. game dev in and of itself is just something i do for fun because i want to tell stories. it's not something i ever want to make money off of for instance. i really just do it because i enjoy it (and sometimes it's the only thing that keeps me going through my mental health stuff) and i also know that i don't have the skills to make anything that will ever be more than that. i'm really sorry to anyone i've let down because of the direction of the story and the changes in how i've approached the game. i wish i could have made a better game for you 😭

[burnwater13]

Concept Art by Christian Alzmann, The Mandalorian, Season 2, Episode 4, The Siege

Yes. He likes food. All sorts of food. Almost any kind of food. Some foods were better than others. A few were worse. These little sweet crunchy disks were pretty great and Grogu didn’t understand why the Mandalorian didn’t keep them in stock on the Razor Crest. They were perfect. 

They weren’t too big for him to hold in his hands like so many of the things that came out of a rations pack. They smelled like they had been freshly manufactured, however that worked. They were crisp. Flavorful. Packaged for convenience. He could take them with him wherever they went and no one would notice. They were perfect.

“I sure noticed that you ate too many of them.” 

Uff. Always with the wisecracks, this one, Grogu thought, hearing the Mandalorian’s comment.

Then Grogu laughed at himself. First he sounded like Master Yoda. Second, Din Djarin wasn’t always cracking wise and laughing and stuff like that. It was quite the exaggeration on Grogu’s part. The whole packaged treat fiasco as it was called onboard the Razor Crest was something that the bounty hunter wasn’t going to let him forget about any time soon. 

Grogu would have defended himself the first time Din Djarin had gotten upset about the incident if certain conditions hadn’t prevented him. First, his stomach wasn’t happy about losing contents that Grogu had really enjoyed consuming. Second, and importantly, Grogu absolutely, positively didn’t want to lose more of those sweet crisp things by opening his mouth to defend himself. That would totally undermine the purpose of making the comment. 

So what defense could he offer now that he was at no specific risk of losing anything like that? A full and complete one. A defense that would make sense to anyone with a Mandalorian guardian or who had even ended up doing loop-d-loops in a starship trying to evade TIE fighters. A defense that was the envy of every other person who had ever lost their cool or their lunch. 

But first, the setting and conditions that Grogu had been exposed to were important to know about and understand prior to him presenting his defense. First things first. 

His dad, Din Djarin had decided to come to Nevarro to get the Razor Crest repaired. Grogu would have balked at that if he’d been able to. After all, Peli Motto’s garage was on Tatooine and that was on the other side of the Outer Rim. Peli would have made sure that Grogu had all the food he wanted, lavished him with attention and let him play games with the pit droids. 

Instead they went to Nevarro, which smelled of sulfur dioxide and carbon dioxide from all the lava flows. Grogu didn’t like the smell of either of them. Sure, eggs could smell like that if they went bad. But even he didn’t eat eggs that went that bad. Who would. 

And then, to make matters worse, instead of being able to stay with his dad and supervise the repairs to the ship, Cara Dune and Greef Karga needed the Mandalorian’s help with a problem. Well, that was fine. Grogu liked to solved problems. He was pretty good at it all things considered. You couldn’t be on the run from Imps for the majority of your life and not learn a thing or two about solving problems. But no. That’s not what he had to do. Uff. 

Grogu was assigned to assess and evaluate the teaching abilities of the protocol droid that had been assigned to the brand new Greef Karga School for Aspiring Pirates and Smugglers. Okay. Okay. That wasn’t the school’s name. That’s just what Grogu called it in his notes. For some reason the protocol droid’s programming hadn’t been modified enough to teach the students something more useful that the common routes used by pirates and smugglers. The children had been attentive enough of course, so maybe they really enjoyed those lessons. But for Grogu they were history. He’d met plenty of smugglers in his time and he really didn’t think the galaxy needed more of them. 

As the droid instructor droned on Grogu had realized with a shock that his dad hadn’t left him any snacks or ration packs or food of any sort. That didn’t make any sense. Din Djarin always made sure that Grogu had all of his needs met before placing him in a new and unique situation with an attention to detail… Ha! Grogu couldn’t even finish spinning that tale it was so far off from the truth. Din Djarin hadn’t even thought Grogu would get hungry before he came back for him and that was situation normal. Just ask the Frog Lady and her family. Or Peli Motto, who they should have been visiting. 

So time passed as the protocol droid lived down to its programming and Grogu got hungrier and hungrier. As other students began to pull out their snacks and nutrient bars and ration packs, Grogu realized that his dad had let him down. No snacks in his coveralls. None in the desk. None with his name on them anywhere. Nope. Nothing but the continuous discussion of smuggling and smugglers. 

Which was the real problem. It was clear that some of the students had taken those lessons to heart and had smuggled things into the classroom you never would have found in the classrooms at the Jedi Temple. Not just the regular snacks, ration packs, and nutrient bars, but the special ones. The sweeties. The yummies. The shareable treats that were used the galaxy over to make friends and influence people. 

Grogu wanted to be influenced. He wanted to be a friend. He was in this galaxy. But the smuggler he had identified was not the sharing sort. That just couldn’t be ignored. Grogu was performing important fact finding and data collection. He needed to test and evaluate those sweets to see if they were typical of the genre or if they were somehow unique. It would indicate the skill of the smuggler and their length of their smuggling networks connections. 

Following the advice of his friend Ian, to always test then draw conclusions, Grogu determined that he needed to sample the sweets and use that as the primary indicator of their value and likely point of origin. When that was determined he could make a proper assessment of the impact such cargo would have on the overall economy of Nevarro and the amount of risk they would incur if additional supplies were laid in on a regular basis. 

With that as the backdrop of his actions it was pretty clear that Grogu’s defense was simply the altruistic demand that his Jedi training had placed on his small shoulders to ensure that the peace and wellbeing of a population could be maintained despite attacks implemented by an implacable and subtle Imperial Intelligence apparatus that wanted to crush descent in the Outer Rim. 

He just hoped that the Force was with him. 

“Buddy, you ate all the cookies and got sick. Plain and simple.  Next time, don’t just gobble them down like their dung worms.”

Grogu sighed. Din Djarin would never appreciate the subtle beauty of his truth, Force or no Force. Dank Farrik!

Photo from The Mandalorian, Season 2, Episode 4, The Siege

[elkian]

Oh my GOD I think I figured it out.

Spoilers for In Stars and Time below the cut. Like, major, huge, endgame spoilers.

Okay okay okay.

So.

I'm doing the companion quests and as I walk out of the shop after Odile's I just. Poked through my Souvenirs and Used the coin on a whim. I cannot overstate how lucky this is.

Because I got The Incident memory.

And then I went and got Isabeau's Companion Quest for the first and hopefully last time.

You guys.

I was kind of wondering, with the words and books people can't read, and some of the stuff the King has said.

Oh my GOD so the first loop after King defeat, I didn't give the Flower to anyone, and I was able to give it to the King, and Siffrin mentioned a tradition that the King knew. That was weird! I should have caught that as weird!

And Siffrin and the King are the only named characters (up til the Head Housemaiden) who have light-colored hair. I think Antoine (the Beautiful One who talks about the party) might have it but virtually no NPCs have hair with a white shade fill. Hell, the King's hair fills the upper floor of the House and has since Start Again. The King even singles Sif out as "Bright one"!

Siffrin and the King and the baker in Sif's The Incident Memory are all from the forgotten country.

I knew the details there weren't on accident. I knew that had to mean something. It's not the kind of thing you bring up for no reason.

Siffrin's bad memory isn't just being scatterbrained, or even the timeloops. In the Running Away discussion (the first time, and only the first time) we see them forget a major memory mid-conversation. Siffrin's equipable Memory with the "Theoretically, you have so many to choose from!" has always had an irony to it, but it just gets crueler the more you go.

Siffrin and the King both use Time magic, both talk about and know about the Universe. Loop (who I really see as a player stand-in, but there's definitely more too them, too) mentions being a part of the Universe, capital U. The King says the Universe will decide who is right. The King wants to freeze Vauguarde because it is perfect, and welcomed a man with no history, with no name. The goddamn observatory section was SO conspicuous, it was blatantly obvious that it was important, i just wasn't sure how until this came up. Siffrin doesn't talk about his home country because he literally can't. Nobody can! Even if they could, his memories are getting wiped on screen and it is terrifying.

And the Colors... the Colors thing (capital C) feels very important. People just forgot how to see Color? That's weird! That's really weird! And the Head Housemaiden said something was rotten, broken. I think the 'code' of the world is messed up in some way. Whatever broke Colors vision also broke Sif's home country, his memory. Maybe not at the same time, but they're related.

(And the King calling Sif 'Bright One'.... can the King still see Color?)

And in Isabeau's companion quest, Sif acknowledges loving their friends, being loved, being happy. Sif and Loop agree that talking to the HH probably prevents Sif from achieving something. Siffrin is creating the loops because he doesn't want to stop being happy with his friends.

Sif really IS becoming the King, using Time Powers to 'freeze' a state where they can be happy. At the very very very beginning, Sif told Mirabelle that this was the happiest he can remember being (probably literally, between the blatant clinical depression and the lost memories). And I know it's probably obvious, but Sif is likely hungry all the time because they're burning calories to run the timeloop. And the King had no name, and Siffrin acknowledges only having one name, and I have to wonder - does Siffrin lack a family name by default, or was the memory of it taken from him?

I can't predict how this will play out, but... this is... damn.

I think we'll learn to read the unreadable text before the game can end, and I didn't hang out with Loop yet either, which is a huge shame, because I agree with Sif that I don't want to reset the companion quests.

I guess we'll see.

In Stars and Time SPOILER: I am sincerely wondering if this game will end with Siffrin becoming the King.

[tonberry-yoda]

hello! i'm not sure whether your slot is still available or not. if yes, i'd like to request a mystery date matchup for your event. if not, just ignore this!

my pronouns are she/her. i'm not sure about myself, but i'm fine with both men and women. i'd like a romantic hunter x hunter matchup ^^ about the character, ah, i don't think i'd be comfortable with illumi/silva/milluki.

i'm an... well, airhead? jsjsjs i don't know, but i often say stupid things (which i didn't even realize) which make people around me: 1. laugh, or 2. look at me with tired expression. i smile and laugh easily. i'm a carefree person. while i have my own stress, i tend to let it flow. i'm a bit slow in understanding social cues. so.. yeah! sometimes i just smile in a conversation because i don't really understand what the other is talking about.

i love literature! i also love video games and movies, especially animation movies! i just love the relationships between the characters in the movie. i can be touchy, too. i love hugs. i like holding hand.

what i want from a relationship is someone who can understand me, who i can trust and trust me back, who won't betray or cheat on me. umm well, someone i can talk to? i love talking, even if i'm not the best at it.

my dream first date is amusement park date! idk, it just sounds so fun. and we can talk a lot there!!

oh i hope this is not too long. i tried to follow your matchup rules and made it short jsjsjs but i think this is still long.

anyway! thank you so much for your time. i hope you have a nice day

notes: OMG HI!!! I am so so sorry this took so long, but thank you so much for your patience. Super sorry this didn't make it into my actual event, but it will still pretty much be the same. Thank you again for waiting this long and being so understanding <3 I really hope you enjoy :) and this wasn't long at all, it was perfect!!!

the character I match you with is...

KNUCKLE!!

he's a bit of a dummy too lmao

but he will help lead you both in the right direction lol

he doesn't mind that airheaded side tbh, he actually laughs at the stupid things you say

always know that you can go to him if anything is stressing you out, but he's glad that you have that mindset of let it flow because that's all you really can do

he will just grab you and press kisses all over your cheeks frfr

he loves watching movies with you and also loves animation

he doesnt give 2 shits if people call them kids movies because they are well written for god's sake!

also watching movies = cuddle time, so he really enjoys it

loves that you're touchy

really needs that in a relationship and will take cuddles, kisses, and hugs any day

he would NEVER cheat on you

he is so so so loyal and cries when he hides a little secret from you (like literally came to you bawling to say that he was the one to leave the light on in the car causing the battery to die and you just giggle at him and tell him it's okay)

he loves talking with you

you two could literally talk for hours omg

your fic <3

You walked into the amusement part with your hand in Knuckle's shaking one. You looked at all of the rides with awe while your boyfriend looked at them in fear. "It's going to be okay, Knuckle!" You said, pressing a kiss onto his cheek. "I-I'm just a little scared," he admitted. You were the only person he would tell if he was scared of anything. "We can just ride a couple! And then we can get food and stuff!" "Alright." He eyed the rollercoaster the two of you were walking to and his heart began to pound. "You don't have to ride this if you don't want to." You told him, hugging him while you waited in line. "No, I want to... It's just... I haven't been on a rollercoaster since I was a kid." "I'll be right next to you. And don't worry, this one isn't scary at all. No loops or anything." He swallowed and took your word for it. "A-Alright." When it was your turn to get on the ride, you and Knuckle buckled in tight and you promised you would hold his hand the whole time. Sure, he screamed through the entire ride, but when you got off, you saw a dizzy smile on his face. "That was fun." He giggled, grabbing onto your arm. "Wasn't it!!!" The rest of the night went a lot like that: riding rides, eating food, playing at the arcade, but it was also a lot of sitting and just enjoying the scenery and each other's company. You two would take time just to sit and talk while watching the stars and the neon lights above. There was no one you would rather spend this time with then him.

~~~~~

pinned post @tonberry-yoda

[annamarabella-grumble]

My 7 Favourite Games of 2022

It’s so close to the new year now and I’ve been taking a little holiday from streaming, making new videos, and writing anything longer than my grocery shopping list, but there was one list I didn’t want to miss out on making: my favourite games of 2022. Since I started streaming every week in January of this year, I’ve played — and actually finished — a ton of games, and I’ve collected my seven favourites in this post.

They may be favourites for different reasons: having an emotional impact, a gripping storyline, or outstanding world building. Game mechanics tend to be secondary to my enjoyment of the story of a game, but there’ll be shoutouts to games whose developers clearly put thought into quality of life and what most respects players’ time.

Not all of these games were released in 2022, as I came to a few of them late, but I first played them all to completion in 2022.

Number 7: Gotham Knights

See, here’s the thing: I don’t care about 60 FPS, I really don’t. I understand that the PC version had some performance issues; I play it on the xbox series x, and it looks and plays absolutely fine for me. Second thing: I also don’t really care which version of canon or continuity any Batman game gets its characters or story from. Third thing: I enjoy the Arkham games as a viewer, not as a player myself. If you also don’t make either of these things your entire personality, keep reading.

What kept me playing the game was the mix of open world and linear storytelling. The main story, the additional rogue case files, and the Batkids’ own storylines gave the game a solid scaffolding to keep you going whenever you were tired of running after Freaks and Regulators and the Mob in near-endlessly procedurally generating chases and preventing small-time crime. But if you just wanted to dip in for a bit, especially to test out new abilities, the open world was yours to patrol for a night, wreck some shit, and go home.

Yes, that stuff gets repetitive, and if your brain isn’t wired in a way that enjoys that, I absolutely understand everyone who says they got bored of the main gameplay loop after an hour; that’s totally fair. For me, though, who likes checking things off a list and not having to think too much while cracking skulls? Perfect, I’ll do a hundred nights of patrol out in the streets of Gotham to collect shiny things.

For what it is, Gotham Knights is a perfectly solid and enjoyable game. As soon as you step away from a narratively linear game experience and into an open world, with online multiplayer mechanics to boot, the main challenge is keeping the player interested. Keeping up any narrative arc of suspense is difficult to do, and as a consequence, the final showdowns with the rogues can feel anticlimactic. The main final fight only happens after an exceedingly long section of sneaking and grappling through underground tunnels; in that same vein a lengthy chase through the sewers ends with a rather standard boss fight, too. Gotham Knights isn’t really about the set pieces. Still, there’s a large variety of locations and I like the neon aesthetic of the main streets.

I’ve played as each of the heroes over time, though I mainlined the story as Batgirl first, and I’m enjoying the variations in their abilities and fighting styles, while the mechanics are based in the same system to allow for an easy switch-over. There’s a ton of gear modifications to really bulk your character up, and it’s just fun to get together with a pal and run around mashing buttons. There’s less of a focus on the combo system from the Arkham games, which personally suits me fine.

Gotham Knights got the Batkids right, I feel. Yes, for simplicity’s sake there’s a strong, almost exclusive focus on some of each of their core characteristics to explore in the short cut scenes tied to memories around the city or the Belfry. But each of those is also tied to Bruce’s memory, and how he approached training and, for all of them except Barbara, raising them. (And even she would say that she got half her stubbornness from her father, the other half from him.) We get to know them in part because Batman knew them so well. And there’s a lot of heart in those moments. They were, for all their struggles to hold things together, a family, and that comes across really well.

In a game focused more on narrative or simply on only one of the main characters, those aspects as well as the rogue case files would have been more fleshed out and explored more deeply than Gotham Knights has room to do. But I appreciate the effort put into making Gotham City itself more lived in and vibrant than in previous games, though sometimes it still somehow manages to feel deserted? It’s odd. The real upshot for me was, though, that it doesn’t feel grindy. The presence of other case files suited for different level caps, and an emphasis on other contacts and side quests, makes it so you’re not just endlessly levelling up in order to be able to progress in the main story.

The game’s single greatest failing is that it doesn’t let me beat up cops wholesale, even though literally all of them will immediate open fire if they see a cape.

Number 6: Eternal Threads

Eternal Threads is a narrative puzzle game that completely took me by surprise during the summer. One long summer night without sleep turned into a treasure hunt of memories — and many of them sad, upsetting, or at least foreboding.

The story of Eternal Threads hinges on six housemates that all died in the same house fire. And you, the player, arriving from the future not to prevent the fire itself, but to save the six people trapped inside.

There’s a way to save all of them, and then there’s a way to help each of them resolve either past trauma or point them towards a solution for the challenge they see before them. You can stop once all are projected to survive, but you can keep going to find the best ending for all six characters. It does eventually feel like trial and error, trying to find the crux in it all that shakes the remaining puzzle pieces into place, but thanks to the narrative and all characters having relationships with each other that contributed to the mystery, and if you’re following those lines, it’s not just randomly turning over random pieces of the puzzle.

The visualisation mechanic felt familiar from playing detective games but with an added twist thanks to the visual timeline of events you can scroll through and tamper with.

Each of the characters led fully realised lives — some with tropes bordering on cliché, and sometimes the writing gets a little edgelord — but you come to care for each of them. I’ve written a detailed review of Eternal Threads, if you’d like to know more; including information on additional trigger warnings.

Number 5: The Excavation of Hob's Barrow

Hob’s Barrow is a stunning indie folk horror game inspired by English folk tales. I mean, apparently I’m cursed because every time I wanted to play the second half on stream, either I got sick or my PC stopped working somehow, so I had to finish it on my own. But at this point, that’s honestly part of its charm.

There’s things in that barrow Saxnot doesn’t want me to see.

Hob’s Barrow is a great blend of an emotionally affecting storytelling and classic point and click adventure games. Thomasina’s story is told in a classic framing narrative, along with flashbacks to her childhood, that keeps its final twist close to its chest. It’s a game that tells you from the outset, “you are doomed by the narrative��� and then doesn’t stop for questions. There’s a solid mystery at the heart of the story, which is satisfying to unravel. And then, we ourselves unravel as we enter Hob’s Barrow, and everything we thought we knew was true is turned on its head.

There’s plenty of mystery and folk horror here, including references to the fair folk and the Lambton Worm, a real folk horror story. Thankfully, however, the game doesn’t rely on jump scares — they are present, but they’re not overused. Equally, its twist don’t rest on shock value. They’re foreshadowed well, and whether you piece things together with a bit of lead or just before it happens, they are shocking. Just not because they come out of nowhere, not because the game is more invested in tricking you, the player, than telling a compelling story. They’re shocking because they’re impactful, because there’s emotional weight to them.

The voice acting is incredible, as is the sound design and music — it’s delightfully Twin Peaks in places, which makes me very happy. (You can support the artist, The Machine, on Bandcamp!)

The protagonist’s voice actor, Sam Béart, in particular, does a fantastic job bringing Thomasina to life: from a troubled upbringing, to becoming a confident young researcher, to the tragedy and loss she eventually experiences.

Play this game! Play this game!

Number 4: A Little to the Left

There’s a full review of this game up on my channel already, so I’ll keep this brief, but I really cannot recommend A Little to the Left enough if you’re looking for a cozy puzzle game to while away a few hours with, and especially if you find putting things just in the right order satisfying.

The adorable art style and the way these puzzles fit together visually truly make the serotonin go brrrrr. Plus, when you’re done with the main levels, there’s a daily tidy to keep you engaged and exercise the little grey cells. The music is adorable, and it’s just so chill.

I have a more in-depth review here: 8 Reasons to Play A Little to the Left.

Number 3: Stray

This landing high up on this list won’t be a surprise to anybody: A+++ cat mechanics, no notes. The cutest cat game of all time, calling it now — with an absolutely devastating revelation.

Aside from being an adorable game about a cute cat, it’s also a powerful story about humanity, its foibles and strengths, and what’s left of us when, well. Nothing’s left of us. The world they forged outlived them in this story, and it outlived them so well that it’s as if they were still there, locked into Plato’s Cave, aka the domed city.

The Village is a place of light, because the humans that lived there used the light as an act of rebellion. They knew things were over, and they refused to live what little time they had left in the dark. The robots that lived with them, outlived them, continue to remember them. They don’t revere them as gods, they simply remember and take care of the things that mattered to them.

In this dystopia, the corporations that got them into this mess are long gone along with them. Perhaps, in the sprawling Outside, there is hope for new life. Give Earth to the cats. They’ll know what to do with it.

I have a more in-depth review here: 9 Reasons to Play Stray.

Number 2: Hades

Now, this game didn’t come out in 2022, and I was severely late to the party, but I picked it up for real and actually successfully escaped a few times over the summer, and I would like to thank everyone who psychically or otherwise bullied me into finally playing it.

If you’ve played it or, well, not lived under a rock since its release, then you’ll know why Hades is outstanding: the dialogue system, the voice acting, the soundtrack, the weapons and combat, the relationship mechanics, the roguelike…. ugh.

To borrow from the essay I wrote just after completing my let’s play of the game:

With Hades, I’ve learnt not to mourn the boon combo I lose when I inevitably die — I know I can make my own luck on the next run, and the next, and the next…

Zagreus’ complicated relationship with… well, everyone he’s ever met is by turns ready to pluck at your heartstrings, make you laugh, or ignite a blinding fury that will carry you through the next round on burning heels. In the Greek underworld, everyone’s queer and no-one is sorry (except they are so very, very sorry; sometimes, when you catch them in the right light). Everyone’s also punishingly hot, and it’s frankly unfair to make bisexuals play this game and expect them to get anything done without some sort of health warning.

You needn’t have spent your formative years soaking up Greek myth — though which of us hasn’t had something elgeebeetee happen to them whilst immersed in the adventures of Olympus, I ask you — to enjoy the story and the many characters’ idiosyncrasies and relationships.

I am perfectly content finding things out by the piecemeal method. Piecemeal is certainly all Father gives you, so settle in, folks, hope you’ve all packed your bags for the guilt trip. But don’t worry, you can make it all better by commissioning new rugs and furniture you’ll never once sit on because Zagreus. cannot. sit. still. Someone make that boy take a nap.

AND NOW WE’RE GETTING PART 2. BISEXUALS JUST KEEP WINNING.

Number 1: Cult of the Lamb

My GOTY is Cult of the Lamb. I love it, I’ve finished it and I still play it.

And here’s a variation of something that I originally wrote in that same essay about Hades, but which applies to Cult of the Lamb as well because both of them are roguelike games that I ended up loving after being scared of the genre for years — me being an absolute hoarder of stuff in video games.

The game acknowledges gains, motivating the player to keep going, ever on the quest for more, more, or simply to try out the new toys. This also lends support when you feel stuck, because you’re not being punished for not progressing in terms of region bosses defeated. Once you have, then, spicing things up through additional conditions and incentives means you still earn rewards for making it through again and again and again, giving the game the longevity it needs to keep players coming back for more to ensure that they actually see all the stuff that’s tucked away.

Cult of the Lamb is far from being as expansive in its story content compared to Hades. If you keep coming back it’s because you enjoy the familiarity of the main gameplay loop, or because you want to fully upgrade your cult base and deck it out with ALL the decorations. Or, because you’re cranking up the difficulty and using more of the drawback conditions on the fleeces; akin to Heat runs in Hades, to spice things up.

Speaking of decorations — and I shouted this out in my video review (Cult of the Lamb is my GOTY) — is that removing or editing buildings is so easy. In Stardew Valley, it’s a hassle, in Animal Crossing, it costs loads of money and it’s a hassle. In Cult of the Lamb, you can just pick something up and plop it down somewhere else, or remove it entirely, and it’s the work of seconds. Good news for all of us millennials who can’t commit to putting a new sticker on our laptops.

What were your favourite games you played in 2022?

[bbangsoonie]

goal: your heart

member: sunwoo genre: fluff word count: 5,423 synopsis: due to a budget cut, you have to follow the soccer team around for both the school newspaper and yearbook despite knowing nothing about sports. before you know it, you find yourself warming up to the team’s star player, who you swore was the most annoying and arrogant person ever.

a/n: this is a part of the star player collab with @atbzkingdom​ for sunwoo’s birthday! (also, this will be written with the american academic calander in mind)

You knew exactly what you were doing. You were the top student of both your class and school and the leader of many clubs. Your college application was full of achievements and your essay exquisitely written. The only problem? You had no idea what to do after graduation. You didn’t know where you wanted to go or what you wanted to study.

Growing up, everyone told you that you’d eventually find something you love. By senior year, you thought you would at least have an idea by now.

But nope, you were even more lost if anything. Dream job? That was just a capitalistic lie meant to make people happy to slave away for money.

Grumbling, you listened as your friends rambled on about the campuses they visited. It was only the first day back and everyone was already obsessing over one thing and one thing only.

“Y/n, you’re so lucky,” Juyeon pouted. “You don’t have to worry about getting into a university. Your stats are literally perfect.”

“I have other things to stress over,” you groaned. “At least you know what you wanna pursue.”

“Y/n has other things to worry about. She’s about to graduate without ever finding love,” Younghoon teased.

“It’s all our fault,” Jaehyun squinted as he pinched his nose bridge. “We raised her standards too high. I’m sorry, Y/n, that I can’t take responsibility.”

The notebook in your hand threatened to fly over to his seat. Luckily for him, he was saved by Juyeon’s very unnatural attempt at changing the subject. He inquired about the school newspaper that was barely spared in a major budget cut last year.

Thinking about it made you sigh. You had poured in so much effort over the years for the paper and it was almost taken from you. The school was cutting funds for a lot of clubs and diverting the money to the many sports teams that brought home trophies.

A part of the negotiations to save the newspaper club was to feature more sports events and student athletes in order to garner support for the teams. You weren’t pleased with the decision. Your plate was already full without trying to inflate the ego of players who had a god superiority complex. Jaehyun was a great example of the type of jock you didn’t want to raise on a high pedestal.

You had also promised Kevin, the president of the yearbook committee, to help out with photographing games since you had to attend them anyway. Despite the many tasks assigned to you, you were relieved that you could spend your last year continuing to write articles.

“Does that mean you’ll get to come to practice with us? The basketball team is always on my ass about introducing them to you. Now I can finally stop being pestered to be the middleman,” Jaehyun grinned.

“No shot,” Younghoon shook his head. “My swim team has already tried but Y/n puts up a cold front.”

“Hey, I’m a delicately guarded rose with sharp thorns,” you joked, making Jaehyun pretend to gag. This time, the notebook hit his arm.

“No one is good enough for our Y/n,” Juyeon defended. You turned around to coo at him and said something about him being the only nice one as Younghoon guffawed.

The first day of soccer practice meant you had to stay behind after dismissal to meet the team. The coach introduced you to the players and beamed when he got to the last one.

“This is our ace, Sunwoo. Although I’m sure you know that already,” he said proudly.

To be honest, you had no idea who he was. The school was too big to know everyone and you had absolutely no interest in sports. You rarely even went to Juyeon and Jaehyun’s basketball games and Younghoon’s swim meets.

Not wanting to offend anyone, you simply smiled. Sunwoo, catching your hesitance, raised a brow. However, he kept quiet until he approached you during one of his breaks.

“Do you really not know me?” he asked as he took a seat next to you on the bleachers.

Surprised by his sudden question, you blankly stared at the boy in front of you. Sweat was dripping from his hair but he paid it no attention as he chugged an entire water bottle.

“How cocky are you?” you scoffed.

“You really don’t know our soccer team’s star player, Kim Sunwoo?” he gaped.

“Sorry to disappoint but I really don’t care or know much about soccer. Or any other sports for that matter,” you shrugged.

“You’re going to write about the soccer team… when you don’t even know who we are or what we’re doing?” he asked incredulously.

“That’s why I’m here to observe,” you snapped back.

Finding you amusing, he finally wiped away his sweat as the coach blew his whistle to gather the players again.

Sunwoo always gave it his best but for some reason he found himself practicing extra hard that day. Knowing your eyes were on him motivated him to show off his skills by annoying his teammates and stealing the spotlight. After his third goal in a row, he looked at you to see your reaction but was baffled to see you busy writing something down.

Frustrated and peeved, he kicked at the grass with a huff.

When practice came to an end, he snuck up behind you to see what you were so intently focused on. Reading the notes on your notebook, he hummed.

“So that’s what you were doing instead of watching me,” he mused.

You were listing physical traits and personality attributes of each player. He scanned the paper for his name and frowned when he saw what you wrote about him.

“Arrogant and conceited? That’s all you have to say about me?” he whined.

“What? It’s true,” you deadpanned.

“Haknyeon gets “tall, bubbly, and extroverted” but I get “arrogant and conceited”? That’s not fair. This is biased journalism!” he exclaimed.

Realizing that practice was over, you gathered your belongings and stood up to leave. With his cheeks puffed, he watched as you left the field. You were unlike any person he had ever encountered.

“Sunwoo? Kim Sunwoo?” Younghoon repeated with his eyes wide. “The soccer caption Kim Sunwoo?”

Jaehyun and Juyeon’s chopsticks froze midair in shock. Finding their reactions odd, you nodded as you took another bite of your lunch.

“I can’t believe the lady killer got rejected by the man hater,” Jaehyun broke out into a fit of laughter.

“Now that’s a title I’d like to see on the school newspaper,” Younghoon snickered.

“Okay, first of all, I did not reject him because he did not come on to me,” you rolled your eyes. “Secondly, who the hell is he anyway? Why do you all know him?”

“He’s notorious for his fuckboy image. Although I think that’s an exaggerated reputation,” Juyeon said you picked out all the vegetables from your plate. He willingly moved them to his own and you smiled gratefully in response.

“So my first impression of him was correct,” you said.

“He’s not that bad. He’s actually pretty cool. Rumors don’t do the sweet guy justice,” Juyeon explained.

“Our lovely Juyeon sees the good in everyone,” Younghoon gushed as he pet his friend, earning him a smack on the back of his head.

“We were partners for a history project,” Juyeon clarified. “I got to know him a bit and he’s a good guy. Just enjoys attention a little too much. Like Jaehyun.”

Weirdly offended, Jaehyun scowled. You shrugged it off, returning your attention back to your food. You had no intentions of getting to know Sunwoo anyway. At least, that was the plan until he bombarded you in the hallway while you were walking to class.

He blocked your path with that irritating smirk on his face. Exasperated, you asked him what he wanted.

“So I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday,” he started.

“Oh, so you do think?”

“Hey!”

“Do you think you can move and get out of my way?”

“Anyway, as the president of the newspaper club who’s in charge of covering the soccer team, I think you lack way too much information about the sport. And our school’s players.”

“How do you know I’m the president?”

“I asked around.”

You look at his eyes, trying to peer through any ulterior motives. He was being suspiciously generous. But he wasn’t entirely wrong. Even you thought it was ridiculous that a person who didn’t know a thing about soccer had to write articles about it.

You were also aware that any interviews with the athletes would be surface level stuff that all the students probably already knew. You were the only one out of the loop.

You pursed your lips, annoyed that he was right. Realizing that you were in agreeance, Sunwoo grinned.

“I am offering you the very special privilege to follow me around and learn everything there is to know about the team. For the paper of course,” he quickly added the last part after seeing the look on your face. “I can teach you about both soccer and my teammates.”

After pondering his proposal, you finally nodded.

“Deal,” you eyed his happy expression. “What do you want in return?”

He was taken aback by your question. He hadn’t expected you to assume that he would demand compensation. Your presence and attention were what he was after in the first place. However, he couldn’t let the opportunity pass by.

“Bubble tea,” he declared after some thought. “You can treat me to bubble tea after practice and I can tutor you then.”

“Fine,” you sighed before pushing him aside to make it to class before the bell rang. He was left behind with a stupid smile on his face.

The first tutoring session was extremely awkward for you. You weren’t used to hanging out with guys other than Juyeon, Younghoon, and Jaehyun. They were the only members of the male species you didn’t despise. This riled up Sunwoo’s competitive side. He was determined to get close to you.

He couldn’t stand having someone not like him. He was used to being on friendly terms with everyone—including teachers and even wallflowers. He had a strong desire to receive acknowledgement from everyone.

Perhaps that was why so many girls fell for him.

Nevertheless, the wall around you remained thick and high. Just as he was well known for his playboy persona, you were infamous for never letting guys in. You cold heartedly turned down any and every guy who asked you out. And there had been a lot.

Sunwoo, on the other hand, was excited to spend time with you. Bubble tea was just an excuse to meet you outside of school grounds.

His phone dinged, notifying him of a text. Haknyeon had sent him a screenshot of a post made on the school’s gossip page and wrote “this you?”. He snorted at the content speculating his relationship status after supposedly receiving another confession and rolled his eyes. Curious, you asked him what he was looking at.

“Ah, it’s nothing,” he shook his head as he put the device away. “Just the stupid tea account.”

“Oh you mean that anonymously run social media page that popped up over summer break?” you frowned.

You hated everything about it. It spread rumors, without fact-checking, and started drama. It resulted in both a breakup and the end of a friendship in the span of two months. It was exactly what you and the school newspaper stood against.

Nothing could be done to stop the false information and invasion of privacy because it wasn’t officially affiliated with the school and the students continued to feed into it. People even sent in stories to be posted.

“So tell me what you do know about soccer,” he leaned in and propped his chin on the palms of his hands.

“I know the very basics from catching glimpses of the World Cup,” you leaned back on your chair, making him pout.

“Well, to be honest, explaining the rules is a lot easier to do when directly pointing things out during a game. There’s a match airing tonight. Do you want to come over and watch it with me?” he asked expectantly.

“We can watch the replay tomorrow during study hall,” you said.

“Then we can start by talking about me today,” he chirped. “My squad number is 19 because 9 is usually worn by centre forwards but I wanted to be special and added a 1 in front of it. I’m the centre forward, which is the main striker. That means playing offensive is my main objective. Which is why I’m the highest scorer on the team.”

You wanted to wipe the smug look off his face. It irked you how he so easily bragged about himself.

“I also really like movies and can play the guitar. A true all-rounder and romanticist,” he smiled.

He continued to reveal fun facts about himself for another half an hour. It was only at the end that you realized most of it was useless when writing for the paper. You groaned, realizing you had fallen for his trap.

Still, you learned some things about soccer and his position in the team. Following him to the cafe hadn’t been a complete waste of your time.

The next day, Sunwoo hunted you down to make sure you kept your promise about watching the game together. He dragged you to the computer room during study hall and pulled out the earbuds he prepared. He had purposely rummaged through his drawers the night before to the share wired ones with you.

You had to admit he was extremely helpful when explaining the rules and strategies of soccer. Despite being uncomfortable with the proximity of his body to yours, he was a great teacher. He made everything sound so simple. After you began to understand the game, you even found yourself enjoying the match.

After spending a week with him, you hated that you couldn’t say you still disliked him. After all, you two met almost every day for hours.

You had a gut feeling that you would come to regret it and were proven right. You had a bad feeling the moment you saw Jaehyun run up to you as if his life depended on it. Panting, he barely pulled himself together to show you the post that made him immediately report to you.

“KSW and Y/INITIALS seen cozily spending time together. Will he be the one to finally break through her?” you read aloud.

A photo of your backs from the computer room and a mosaicked side shot of you two at the cafe were attached to the title. The comments under the post were even more ridiculous.

“A challenge to be anticipated.”

“Poor girl will only end up as one of his many heartbroken playthings.”

“I know who KSW is. Who’s Y/INITIALS??”

“The legendary man hater? With a guy?? Wow how good must he be 👀”

“Damn so she rejected me for him?”

Your blood boiled and you shoved the phone away. Trying to calm yourself down, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. And failed.

“What is this, fucking Dispatch?” you exploded. A few students passing by stared at your outburst and widened their eyes when they saw that it was you. You sighed, knowing that the whole school saw the post.

“I’m not a celebrity! Why are people so invested in fake rumors about me?” you yelled, trying to keep your voice to a whisper as you pulled Jaehyun into an empty classroom.

“I’m sure it’ll blow over,” he assured.

“If I ever find out who the admin of this page is, I will ruin them,” you glowered.

You almost didn’t go to the soccer practice that day. But you knew that avoiding him would only add fuel to the fire so you sucked it up and went to the field after school as usual. You heard the hushed murmurs that stirred among the team when you arrived and you wanted to turn back around and leave.

Before you could, however, Sunwoo appeared and shut everyone up with a warning glare. He announced that the coach would be late and to start by running laps.

You were more annoyed than upset about the post. It just stupefied you that people really had nothing better to do than gossip about you. You didn’t think you were that interesting.

You were so close to escaping after practice but Sunwoo caught you trying to sneak away. He stood in front of you, crossing his arms as if to ask where you were going. Giving up, you muttered a “fine” and waited for him to change out of his uniform.

This time, you two wordlessly agreed to go to a different cafe. With the bubble teas on the table in front of you, you sat in silence until Sunwoo finally spoke up.

“Don’t mind what the post or others say,” he huffed.

“I’m not too bothered by it,” you shrugged.

“Good. Because I want to get to know you as just Y/n and Sunwoo. Through whatever you wish to tell and show me. I feel like we’re always just talking about me.”

His words left you speechless. Juyeon hadn’t been kidding when he mentioned how thoughtful Sunwoo was. You felt your heart warm as you smiled.

“Well what do you want to know about me?” you asked.

“Anything. Everything.”

So you spilled about your interests, hobbies, and goals. It was strange. Although it hadn’t been long since you met him, you felt comfortable around him. He made you feel at ease and you didn’t think twice about opening up to him.

You told him about your struggles as a high achieving student. About the pressure you felt and how embarrassing it was to tell people that you didn’t have any dreams.

With your grades, all the teachers expected you to apply to medical school. On the other hand, your parents encouraged you to work towards a high paying and stable salary as a corporation employee. Your friends suggested that you go for something in journalism because of your passion and commitment to the school newspaper.

But the club was just something you did for fun. You didn’t know if you liked it enough to pursue it as a career.

Sunwoo listened attentively as you went on about your concerns. From the outside, you looked like you had your life together. You were the perfect student and the girl that many guys chased after. But as he spent more time with you, it became clear that you were very uncomfortable with boys.

“Can I ask how you got so close with the Bermuda line?” he asked.

“The Bermuda line? What’s that?”

“You’ve never heard of the term? Juyeon, Jaehyun, and Younghoon are called the Bermuda line because they’re the most popular athletes out of all the sports teams. The girls say that once you fall for them, you’re stuck in between them forever because you can’t get out.”

You hadn’t laughed that hard in so long. You knew they had fans but found it hilarious how the trio even had a nickname.

“Oh man, I can’t wait to make fun of them for this,” you laughed, nearly in tears.

When he told you that they actually took great pride in the title, you bursted out in laughter again. Their self love truly was on another level.

“So how’d you end up friends?” he asked again.

“Juyeon, I’ve known since middle school. We were in the same class for all three years. Jaehyun didn’t go to the same school as us but he was friends with Juyeon because they played basketball together. I met him and Younghoon at the end of freshman year. They kinda crash landed into my life but we really clicked so that’s why I still bless them with my friendship.”

Sunwoo giggled at your own overwhelming confidence. He loved that you never sold yourself short. He didn’t notice he had been staring at you until you pointed it out. Blushing, he insisted that it was nothing and took another sip of his bubble tea.

Two months passed by and you eventually came to call Sunwoo a friend. Younghoon teased you about him being more than a friend and at first, you thought he was crazy. But with him planting the idea in your head, you began to question your own feelings. Cursing Younghoon, you blamed him for confusing you.

As the designated photographer, you tagged along to the soccer team’s last match. The entire team was nervous as it would determine the winner of the tournament. Even Sunwoo was anxious.

Before the game started, you offered him a supportive smile and he felt all worries lifted off his shoulders. He erased all thoughts of winning and losing and just concentrated on the ball. He wanted to enjoy the last match of the season and look cool in front of you. That was all that mattered to him.

Fortunately, he got both plus the win. The crowd erupted into cheers as he scored the winning goal just seconds before the whistle was blown to signal the end of the game. His knees fell to the ground and his teammates rushed to surround him.

Seeing how happy he looked brought a smile to your lips. He jumped up and scanned the bleachers for your face. When he finally spotted you, he broke away from his team to run up to you and embrace you in a giant hug.

Caught off guard, you froze as his teammates hooted and applauded. You felt your cheeks heat up at the attention.

“Congratulations,” you chuckled, patting his back. “You did well.”

“Did you get a lot of pretty pictures of me?” he grinned, pulling away to look at you.

“No, I only took pictures of Haknyeon,” you joked. By now, he was used to your teasing and simply ruffled your hair in response.

“There’s gonna be an after party tonight,” he brought up carefully. “I’d really like it if you came. Only if you’re okay with that type of scene though.”

Surprised, you nodded before you fully thought it through.

That was how you ended up moping at Jaehyun’s house. The invitation was extended to the Bermuda line as well and they were all planning on dragging you there. Younghoon was excited at the thought of finally going to a party with the whole group and Juyeon was picking out an outfit for you from Jaehyun’s sister’s closet.

“I don’t know if I trust your fashion sense,” she made a face at the top he held up.

This was your first party and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. There was a reason you hadn’t gone to one throughout your high school years.

Nonetheless, you were dressed up in an outfit that definitely reflected Jaehyun’s sister’s style more than yours. She fawned over how pretty you were and urged you to go with the boys.

So you walked through the doors and into the house vibrating with music. Everyone who recognized you was shocked to see you there. Feeling awkward, you stuck by Jaehyun’s side as you maneuvered around the throng of people. When he finally caught sight of Sunwoo, he dipped and left you alone with him.

“Thanks for coming,” he shouted over the loud music.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you shouted back.

Sunwoo offered you a drink, which you declined. Following your choice, he opted for a soda instead as well. You weren’t much of a dancer so you enjoyed people watching instead. It was fascinating to see your classmates have so much fun.

You giggled when you saw Juyeon be so painfully oblivious to a girl’s advances and walked away to dance with Younghoon. Meanwhile, Jaehyun was having the time of his life flirting with girls. You blocked your eyesight when you saw him leaning in to kiss one of them.

“Ugh, gross,” you cringed. “I do not need to know this side of my best friend’s love life.”

Laughing, Sunwoo offered to take you outside for some fresh air and a change of scenery. You gladly agreed and let him guide you to the backyard.

The night sky was full of tranquility that contrasted the chaos that ensued indoors. You sat on the grass and Sunwoo joined next to you.

“You look beautiful today,” he commented.

“Only today?” you laughed.

“Especially today,” he answered in a serious manner. His sincerity made you clear your throat and look away. He stunned you by cupping your face with his hands.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Are you drunk?” you blinked.

“I haven’t had a single sip of alcohol.”

His voice was slow and raspy. Your heart was beating faster than you wanted it to and you knew the corners of your lips were betraying you.

“You can either lean in or pull away,” he said as he brought his lips closer to yours.

Your heart now felt like it was about to jump out of your chest. Red alarms were going off in your head and you didn’t know what to do. All you knew was what you were only a few centimeters away from kissing Sunwoo.

So you did what any insane person would do and closed the gap between your lips. You wanted to punch him when you felt him smirk but he pulled you closer and held onto you tightly.

The weekend passed without much changes in your relationship with Sunwoo. You were worried that you had either ruined your friendship or that he was sick of you but Juyeon reassured you that he probably wanted to talk about it in person. Anxiously, you overthought things until Monday finally arrived.

Wanting to keep yourself busy until you met Sunwoo, you stopped by the club room early in the morning to import the photos from the last game. Shortly after you connected the camera to the computer, you heard a knock on the door.

Startled, you looked at the door and saw Jacob sheepishly poking his head through the door. You told him to come in and he took a seat next to you.

“Kevin told me to drop by before class for an interview,” he said. You nearly facepalmed. You had completely forgotten about that. You were supposed to interview him for the paper.

“Oh yeah! Hold on, let me go get my notebook,” you searched through your backpack to find it.

The volleyball player was this month’s star of the month and you had to write a piece on his past achievements. He was extremely kind and was careful not to use any advanced sports terminology to make sure anyone could easily read the interview, which you were grateful for.

Before you parted, he gave you a side hug out of habit and apologized when he realized that it was only his first time meeting you. You laughed it off and insisted that now you could be friends since you two hugged already. Relieved that you weren’t disturbed, he happily waved goodbye to you as he walked away.

Being in a different class than Sunwoo meant that you had to wait until lunch period to see him. You honestly didn’t even know if you wanted to see him. You weren’t ready to face him yet.

When the bell finally rang and it was time for lunch, Juyeon forced you to go to the cafeteria instead of hiding out in an empty classroom. The moment you sat down with your tray, however, you felt all eyes on you. Your stomach dropped, knowing it couldn’t be good news.

“Y/n, is this true..?” Jaehyun asked, showing you the new post on the gossip page. You hated that you were always right about bad intuitions.

KSW and Y/INITIALS caught making out at last night’s party… is BJY a side hoe?

You had no idea when a photo was taken in the brief second you and Jacob hugged that morning. When you scrolled and saw the next part, your heart dropped.

A shocking revelation of history: Y/INITIALS and SYJ used to date in freshman year. Does this have anything to do with the swimmer and basketball players always next to her?

You felt your breath caught in your throat as you read through the comments.

“Isn’t BJY on the volleyball team and SYJ on the baseball team?”

“Wow she clearly has a type.”

“I guess athletes just hit it well 👀”

“And here I thought KSW was the hoe… who’s playing with who?”

“Aye so KSW finally managed to break through her. Thanks for my $10 bro.”

“Aren’t the basketball players LJY and LJH? And the swimmer KYH? The Bermuda line, right?? I always thought she had a thing with one of them.”

“So much for the icy Y/INITIALS. She was acting all pretentious when she was already having all her fun.”

Juyeon grabbed the phone out of your hands and glared at Jaehyun. You never thought your past relationship would ever get exposed. There were only a handful of people who knew about it and it had stayed hidden under the rug up until now. It was something you wanted to bury and never think about ever again.

Shakily, you got up and ran out of the cafeteria with Younghoon calling out after you. You ran as fast as you could. You didn’t stop until you busted through the doors and collapsed on the rooftop. Your lungs were on fire and you closed your eyes to stop the ringing in your ears.

Meanwhile, Sunwoo was running across the school to find you. When he didn’t see you in the club room, he changed his target and sought out Eric.

“Is it true?” he demanded when he finally saw his friend.

“I can’t believe people already figured out that it’s me,” Eric sighed.

“Is it true?” Sunwoo repeated.

“Yes, yes, it’s true,” he answered with his hands up in defeat. “She never wanted anyone to find out. We didn’t exactly end on good terms. It’s something I’m not proud of.”

“What happened?” he asked, trying to contain his anger. “What did you do to her?”

“I…” Eric trailed off. “I cheated on her.”

“What the hell, Eric?” Sunwoo yelled.

“I-I was stupid! And young. It’s the biggest mistake I made in my life,” he admitted.

Frustrated, Sunwoo left and ran off in search of you again. When you weren’t anywhere to be found, he checked the rooftop as a last resort. He didn’t expect to actually see you there.

“Y/n,” he breathed. You felt a lump form in your throat. It was the first time he had addressed you by your name.

“Get away from me,” you glared. “Was I nothing but a bet to you? Was I just a challenge for you to win?”

“Y/n, I never placed bets on you. I don’t know what other people have been betting on but I have always been genuine with you,” he affirmed.

You refused to let your tears fall. There was no way Kim Sunwoo was going to see you cry.

“I like you,” he confessed. “I like you a lot. I meant to say this that night but got too flustered. So I wanted to tell you today. Whenever I see you, the butterflies in my stomach won’t go away. When I don’t see you, I miss you like crazy. You inspire me to become a better person and all I want to do is hold you and call you mine.”

And now Kim Sunwoo has officially seen you cry. He bent down to wrap his arms around you as you sobbed into his shoulder.

“You’re an asshole,” you mumbled after you calmed down.

“I think you mean the opposite,” he chuckled. “Whatever barriers you put up to protect yourself, I’m going to take them down one by one. With you. Together.”

“Who said I’m helping?” you muttered.

“Then I guess I have to work twice as hard to prove myself,” he softly smiled.

“This is embarrassing,” you groaned.

“This will only be embarrassing for me if you reject me,” his hand reached out to the nape of his neck. “So what do you say? Will you go out with me?”

“I’ll think about it,” you huffed, prompting a chuckle from him.

[likeastarstar]

Invisible String Pt.2

Part One

(A/N: read part one before this part if you haven't already so it'll make sense!)

masterlist.

Jungkook interested you, so you kissed him.

"I don't normally do this," You promised, feeling breathless as Jungkook kissed his way down your jaw to your neck.

"Same," Jungkook nodded urgently, barely processing what you said in favor for tugging you by the waist so that you were straddling him in the back of the cab he had called for the two of you. He said he just didn't want to leave you stranded at the club, that he'd see you home. But one thing led to another and you were currently praying the cab driver didn't yell at you.

Jungkook's hands were everywhere, rubbing at exposed skin, grazing through your hair, flattening against the small of your back. He rocked your hips back and forth against his lap, frowning again in concentration. Shit- he was really hot.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed, wondering what he looked like under his leather jacket. He felt so solid under your touch, like he belongs there. You dragged your other hand through his hair, pushing it back and off his forehead. He keened under your touch, smiling slightly while his eyes fluttered closed as your nails dug into his scalp lightly. You reached the nape of his neck and tugged on Jungkook's hair so that he was looking up at you in his lap, eyes snapping open in sharp attention.

Jungkook's lips parted slightly, as if he was about to say something before-

"First stop." The cab driver interrupted, making you jump slightly as the car came to a screeching halt in front of your apartment complex.

You would've asked him to come inside- except that Jungkook practically pushed you out of the car with a fleeting reminder about the money you still owed him. Ouch. You had clearly completely misread the situation, but that didn't stop you from thinking about Jungkook from that moment on.

You looked for him everywhere, scanning crowds on your daily commute, lingering at the same crosswalk you had met him at. Your eyes stayed glued to the floor when you boarded the bus on your way home most days, trying to catch a glimpse of those black boots.

The next time you did see him was three weeks later, at a gaming cafe, of all places.

"No, no, no- NO!" You whispered, scoffing in disbelief as you lost for the third time that night.

This was not normal for you- loosing, that is. You blamed it on the other abnormality of your current situation: being in a gaming cafe. Normally, you'd be playing LoL in the comfort of your own home sans-pants. But one overly excited moment and a mug of tea placed too closely to your set up and boom- no computer for you. At least while it's in repair.

"You're very dramatic," A voice said next to you, snapping you out of your spiral.

You frowned and looked over to whoever was next to you, locking eyes on Jungkook, who was currently slurping down noodles like someone was going to take them from him. You shrieked in surprise, the two of you jumping in your chairs at the same moment. "Are you stalking me?" You whisper-yelled, leaning away from him.

"No," He snapped, talking with his mouth full. "I got here two hours before you, I just didn't feel like saying hi until now. I could ask you the same question."

You watched him eat in awe, trying not to fixate on the way his tongue looked snaking out to lick his lips every now and then. There had been too many coincidental run-ins between the two of you for this not to be fate. You shook your head, throwing the incredibly stupid thought out of your head.

"Anyway, good thing I ran into you," You shrugged, choosing to ignore the fact that the last time you had seen him, you were rubbing your pussy all over his lap. "I have something for you."

He looked at you with his eyebrows raised, waiting expectantly as you dug around in your bag for a moment. You found what you were looking for, a small keychain of a skeletal hand in the same positioning as the tattoo on his forearm. "I saw it and thought of you, so I got it for you. Here, rock on." You explained, handing it to him.

He laughed slightly, taking it from you gingerly and inspecting it closely. "My tattoo means I love you, not rock on." He pointed out, pulling out his keys and putting the token on the loop.

There was a warm feeling in your chest knowing he was actually going to use it, one that only grew when you noticed the slight blush on his cheeks, "Yeah, well, the keychain means rock on." You quipped, "Do you like it or not?"

"I do," He said quickly, holding up his keys with a bright smile. You sent one back to him, beaming so hard your cheeks hurt. "Thank you."

At this point, neither Jungkook or you ever made plans to see each other. You knew it would just happen on its own. Which is exactly what happened a month later, on what could only be called the worst day of your life.

Things hadn't been going your way for a very, very long time. You usually had pretty good luck, but suddenly it was like the universe had forsaken you altogether. After a particularly terrible blind date, you had had enough- no more dating. This guy was all kinds of awful, he didn't laugh at any of your jokes, he had a terrible taste in music- he even wore the wrong clothes. He had loafers on- loafers. God, Jungkook would never wear those.

Instead of wallowing in a ruined night, you did what any struggling girl boss would do- you got yourself dessert.

You walked to the nearest 24 hour diner, pushing the doors open quickly. There was barely anyone here, thankfully. It was the perfect place to be alone.

Except that two seconds after you sat down in a quiet booth next to a window, Jungkook came marching up to your table. He was wearing a color other than black- this time it was a patterned buttoned down shirt and loose fitting trousers. You couldn't see his shoes, but that wasn't really what you were focused on at the moment. No, instead you could only stare at his latest haircut, cropped short on the sides and parted neatly. Who was this guy and what did he do to your fluffy headed soulmate?

"Are you sure you're not stalking me?" You asked calmly, at this point you were completely unsurprised to see him popping up at the most random times.

"I saw you from the window on my way home and figured I'd say hi," He shrugged, sliding into the booth beside you, immediately tossing his phone haphazardly onto the table. "Although I'm beginning to think you're a figment of my imagination. It's bizarre how you just keep...appearing."

"You're telling me," You snorted, resting your chin on your hand propped up on the table. "But I'm not sure if you'd be able to kiss a figment of your imagination."

Jungkook blushed deeply and you laughed for the first time that day. He was just so easy to mess with. Jungkook pouted childishly and stole your menu, burying his face in it.

"We did a little more than a kiss in that cab," He said in a whiny voice, "It's pretty late, why are you at a diner at one in the morning?"

"Nothing, bad day." You mumbled, "I needed pie."

"Valid reasoning," He said pensively, "You look nice, by the way. I like your earrings, they match mine."

You looked at the chain looping through his double piercings, realizing he was right- you had a similar version in your own ears. Weird. You didn't get a chance to return the compliment before the waitress came over and Jungkook ordered literally every kind of pie on their very extensive menu and two coffees.

"If pie will make you happy we might as well go all out." He reasoned, only noticing your outraged face when the waitress left. "Anyway, I got you something."

He dug around the backpack he has dumped in the booth beside him when he got here, pulling out a flash drive with a a tiny keychain of a butterfly connected to it.

"I don't know if I've never mentioned this before, but I'm a musician." He explained, holding it out to you. "This has my latest stuff on it. Nothing fancy, just wanted you to listen before I send it off to my label. Plus, the keychain reminded me of you."

You took it from him slowly, holding it as if it were worth a million dollars- which to you, it was.

"Sometimes I think I dreamt you up," You mumbled, still staring at the flash drive. You couldn't wait to listen to it, to hear his velvet tone and silvery vocals whenever you wanted. This was the first, tangible thing that connected him to you, a reminder that even if the universe hated you right now- at least Jungkook was in it.

"Touch me and see," He offered, leaning back in his seat with a small smirk on his face.

Your eyes flicked back to him, a dare written across his features and a thread pulling at your heart. You leaned forward, a smirk of your own on your face until his phone buzzed, interrupting the heated moment.

You weren't trying to be nosey, but the bright light of the screen caught your eye and you glanced at it quickly. It was a text from someone, their contact saved under a series of hearts and one word: wifey.

Wait- his what?

TO BE CONTINUED...PART THREE

(A/N: MUAHAHAA! If you've made it to the end, thank you, I love you, I'm sorry. Next part is the last part, as always feedback is so so appreciated! Send me an ask goddamnit!)

[oh-hey-big-zam]

Gotta take a little time

Post summary: Eddie Munson knows his place in the high school hierarchy. So when he finds a note in his locker from the new head cheerleader asking to meet after school, he can't imagine what might lay in store for him.

Pairing: Chrissy Cunningham/Eddie Munson

Word count: 23K

Content warnings: Slight self-harm, verbal and physical parental abuse, explicit sexual content, Vecna being a dick

When Eddie Munson, still groggy from his nap in calculus class, opened his locker to see a neatly folded piece of notebook paper that had been slipped inside, he expected the usual not-so-anonymous insult from the ruling class of Hawkins High.

Freak. Trash. Criminal.

He sighed, debating just tossing it into a nearby trashcan. Something made him hesitate though; maybe it was the way the scraggly little bits of paper on the left side had been carefully cut away. Why would someone who wanted to throw one of their usual insults at him go through all that trouble, he wondered. He shrugged slightly and unfolded it, seeing a message written in looping cursive.

Hi Eddie,

This is Chrissy Cunningham. I'm a senior here at Hawkins, the head cheerleader in fact! Maybe you know that already, although I don't see you at too many games. We kind of knew each other a while ago but it looks like we have different friend groups these days.

Holy shit, little miss perfect was slipping him a note at his locker? Of course he knew who she was; even someone who had no interest in the local teen royalty couldn't help but notice who the newest top dogs were. Word around the lunch tables was that she was dating that chode Jason Carver. God-fearing, all-American daddy's boy who wouldn't know an original thought if it came up and bit him. What the hell was she doing slipping notes to Eddie of all people? 'Different friend groups' was putting it mildly. It was more like different worlds.

This is kind of, ok really, awkward, especially to bring up to someone I haven't talked to in years, but I've been having a lot of trouble lately. Like, mentally. I promise I'm not a basket case, it's probably just stress. You know, graduation and prom coming up, college applications. It's probably nothing. But I keep seeing stuff out of nowhere in the middle of the day. Like, having visions? Stuff with like my parents and things my mom used to say to me. It's hard to explain and I don't want to get into it. I haven't been able to sleep much, and I keep getting these insane headaches out of nowhere. And nosebleeds. Like I said, it's probably just stress. But this is different somehow. It's like nothing I've ever felt before. I've spent a long time learning to deal with that stuff. Memories I can't erase. But it's like all of a sudden nothing seems to work. Like everything is laid bare. And I don't know what to do.

Eddie stopped, feeling a twinge of sympathy in his gut. Jesus, the poor girl. He knew what it was like to have thoughts you couldn't shake, but this seemed a bit beyond the pale. Why didn't she talk to her boyfriend about this stuff?

I know what you might be thinking, Eddie. I have an awesome boyfriend, right? Why don't I go to him with these thoughts and feelings? And I guess I could, but something tells me he wouldn't understand. See, he's kind of old school. He doesn't really believe in anything, apart from God and football and family and all that. If I told him about this, he'd either have me put in a straight jacket or have someone pray over me.

What I'm getting at is, I think I need something to take the edge off. Take my mind off all this stuff. Someone on the cheer squad told me you sold her brother weed and acid last year. I don't really know about all that to be honest. I keep hearing all these stories about people taking acid and then jumping out of a five story window. I don't know if that's true, but maybe weed would be ok. A lot of people smoke weed and don't go crazy, right? At least, that's what I'm trying to avoid. The last thing I want would be to lose everything I finally got this year just because I can't handle a little stress. I have some money I can give you. If you're interested, maybe we can meet at the picnic table behind the parking lot at 3:30? I mean, I don't know if you have plans or how all this works. I'll be there in any case. Thanks again for reading all this, if you made it this far. See you soon. :)

Eddie leaned back against his locker, feeling a little stunned. His head was spinning with a myriad of thoughts. Namely: Chrissy knew he was, well enough to know he was the local dealer; her enviable boyfriend was apparently incapable of providing emotional support in her time of need; and lastly, sweet innocent Chrissy wanted to buy weed from him after school today. He looked around, wondering if he was getting pranked by the basketball team, or maybe this was part of a very targeted sting operation. Was Chrissy a cop? Was it possible she was just walking around with a gun and badge in her cheerleading uniform?

“Yo Eddie, you coming to lunch?”

He looked up, mouth still hanging slightly open. Dustin and Mike were standing in front of him, both decked out in Hellfire shirts and watching him expectantly.

“Uhh...yeah. Give me, uh, give me a minute and I'll meet you guys at our table.”

The two younger boys exchanged a brief look and began walking towards the lunch room. Eddie felt his face heat up all of a sudden, like he'd been caught looking at something he shouldn't. What was wrong with him? So some not-so-innocent cheerleader wanted to buy weed from him with daddy's allowance. It was nothing new. Not all of his clients were male; there were a fair few girls who came to him periodically, some of them awkwardly flirting with him in hopes of a discounted sale. He didn't think too much of it; he was hardly the type any girl would want to publicly go out with. Certainly not Chrissy Cunningham. Just this year, she had been made head cheerleader after gunning for it for ages, and she had snagged the hottest guy in school. Although clearly not the most emotionally intelligent.

He thought again of the forlorn little smiley face at the end of her note. After reading what came before it, about her awful visions and looming breakdown, that smiley face seemed so sad he almost wanted to cry. He felt an awful memory of his own creep in, of a middle school talent show gone awry.

Fuck.

He shook his head; nope, he would not be thinking of that today, thank you very much. He would sell the weed to the head cheerleader, and he would be a perfect businessman, and that would be the end of it. No lingering memories of a middle school crush, no feeling sorry for the girl. She had more of a support network than he did, he was sure. What was he doing feeling bad for someone who had everything anyways? He scoffed and shoved the note in his back pocket; he grabbed the latest Newsweek out of his locker and slammed it shut with finality.

–

Standing about 20 feet behind him at her own locker, a girl with reddish-blonde hair slowly lowered the book she had been hiding behind. She bit her lip anxiously, wondering if this was the worst idea she'd ever had. Her boyfriend came up behind her, gently yanking her ponytail. “Hey, Chrissy.”

She spun around, jumpy and startled. “Oh, Jesus – sorry, you scared me,” Chrissy said, laughing nervously.

Jason smiled indulgently. “Sorry, babe. You just seemed so lost in thought I figured I'd come save you.”

Yes, god forbid I have a minute to myself to think.

She forced a pained smile onto her face. “How was Carver's class?”

Jason rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed with his English teacher.

“Oh, you know, Jay Gatsby is in love with Daisy and stares at the green light all night, blah blah. The only thing I'm getting from that stupid book is that her husband should have decked this guy in the face a long time ago.”

Chrissy forced a laugh.

Isn't Great Gatsby a tenth-grade book? Do they really let the basketball team get that far behind in academics?

Jason smiled at her. “Hey, let's grab lunch before all the good stuff gets taken.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and led her onward; she surreptitiously glanced just once at Eddie's locker as they headed up the hallway.

At 3:30 exactly, Eddie sauntered towards the splintery picnic table that had been the site of many clandestine deals over his extended time at the school. He couldn't remember ever being so punctual; it wasn't that he meant to keep people waiting, necessarily; although he did get a certain satisfaction from seeing someone waiting at the table, fidgeting with anticipation. Apart from D&D, it felt like the only moments in his life where his efforts were really and truly appreciated, even if only by the nature of addiction. Those stuffed shirts at Newsweek who railed against roleplaying games would shit themselves if they knew how many teenagers in quaint little Indiana were into the really hard stuff. As he walked up to the usual spot, he saw something that really shouldn't have bothered him, but for some reason made his blood run a little cold. Chrissy was standing facing away from the table, staring at a fixed point in front of her. He nudged reluctantly closer to her, arms crossed in front of himself protectively. As he drew nearer, he saw a stiff and horrified expression on her face. This was definitely not someone just daydreaming or lost in thought. It was more like someone seeing war flashbacks.

“Chrissy?”

She gasped as if she had been drowning for several minutes and was only now breaching water.

“Oh, god! S-sorry, you came up so suddenly.”

Eddie backed away and put up his arms in exaggerated fashion, hoping to put her at ease.

“It's cool, I'm not packing heat or anything.”

Chrissy gave a slightly confused but polite smile and said nothing.

Boy, this is going well.

He cleared his throat and swung his legs over the picnic bench seat to sit in his usual spot. Chrissy still stood where he had found her, hands twisting together anxiously and looking lost. God, she couldn't be any more out of her depth. What the hell is she going through to make herself do this?

Eddie waved a hand in front of the table, trying to be welcoming. “Please, enter my office.”

“Right.” Chrissy took a few hesitant steps forward and sat across from him.

“Uh, so you wanted weed, right? What are we talking exactly? A ten-sack? A couple of joints? I can roll them for you if you want, no extra charge. Since, you know, I assume you've literally never done this before.”

Chrissy smiled but still looked on the verge of crying. “Um...yeah, you know, whatever you...usually do, I guess.”

Eddie gave a small sigh, tapping his fingers on his lunchbox full of paraphernalia.

“I'm sorry,” she choked out suddenly. “I don't mean to be...like, stupid with this stuff or waste your time. I just don't know like...what a ten-sack is?”

Eddie shook his head. “Sorry, I'm not annoyed with you, Chrissy. I'm mostly just sitting here wondering what, or who, you're doing this for. Be honest with me, please. Is your boyfriend making you buy him weed? Is he too afraid that it'll ruin his frigging basketball scholarship or that the local church leaders will find out and excommunicate his sorry ass?”

“No!” she said loudly and with some desperation. “No, it's nothing like that, please...” Now she really did start to cry, not dramatically but as quietly as she could, holding a fist over her mouth as tears streaked slowly down her face.

Fuck.

Eddie couldn't believe his own assholishness in that moment. He had been so concerned with shitting on Jason and assuming the worst that he had made a girl cry, a girl who was clearly going through a fucking hard time. He had never been good at comforting people, especially when it counted most. Not knowing what else to do, he stood up and sat next to Chrissy, gingerly putting an arm around her. As soon as he did so, he felt sure she would push him away, call him a fucking creep, then run to Jason and get him to beat the hell of Eddie. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, sobbing brokenly into his neck.

Oh.

Eddie gently rubbed the girl's upper back, hoping it was what she needed. He had never found himself in this particular position before; he wasn't normally the type people went to as a shoulder to literally cry on. He hoped like hell no one else at Hawkins came out here at this particular moment. After a few minutes, Chrissy's sobs were depleted and she heaved a sigh. He expected her to lurch away as soon as she was done crying, but she stayed nestled in his neck, trying to breathe evenly again. His mind raced for a comforting word or two and came up empty.

“Sorry I, uh, didn't bring any tissues, but you can use my sleeve if you want.”

Chrissy laughed raggedly; Eddie felt an odd relief tug at this heart. She backed away slightly, still sitting nearer to him than he would have expected.

“I'm so sorry, Eddie, I don't know why I'm acting like this. I just really haven't been myself lately, I haven't been sleeping...”

“Hey, it's ok,” he gently told her. “You don't have to worry about anything right now, just...breathe.”

Chrissy nodded, wiping her eyes with her cardigan sleeves. Eddie couldn't believe how small and broken she looked in that moment. She was all confidence and smiles when doing cheer routines and walking the halls with her conventional friends and parent-approved boyfriend. What must she be going through to make her so desperately sad and scared?

“Ok, uh...I think we should get ice cream,” he ventured suddenly.

She looked up, bemused. “Ice cream?”

“Yeah, you know, my mom used to say there's no trouble on earth that can't be assuaged by getting some ice cream.”

She wrapped her sweater tighter around herself and looked into the distance. “You know, I haven't had ice cream in like, six months.”

“Six months?!”

“Yeah, you know, ever since I joined the squad, all the other girls talk about is how much they love plain chicken and barfing up every other meal.”

Eddie grimaced sympathetically. “Well...if you want plain chicken, I'm sure that can be arranged.”

Chrissy scoffed, looking disgusted. “No, you're right. Ice cream would be fucking...great right now. A big-ass scoop of strawberry with sprinkles.”

Eddie smiled; it was the first time he had ever heard her swear, and he saw it as a good sign. He nodded his head towards the parking lot.

“Then let's hit the road.”

The two teens sat in Eddie's van, parked in the lot of the local Dairy Queen. Eddie could remember when they built this place a few years ago, ousting the local mom and pop ice cream shop that had stood for 26 years. His friends had waited in line all night and swarmed the store upon opening; he guessed that was what passed for excitement in Hawkins, Indiana. He was working his way through an Oreo blizzard, while Chrissy took delicate bites of her strawberry cone next to him. She looked ecstatically happy compared to earlier; he guessed he would be too if he had ice cream for the first time in six goddamn months.

“Ok, Three's Company or Who's the Boss?” Eddie inquired.

“Hmm...my parents never let me watch Three's Company, so I guess Who's the Boss is better by default.”

“They didn't let you watch it?”

“No,” she giggled. “They thought it was inappropriate because it was, like, a single guy living with two single girls, and they were always going on dates and stuff.”

“...So?”

She shrugged. “Well, the whole situation kind of lends itself to innuendo, don't you think?”

Eddie laughed. “Your parents seem to think John Ritter was having an orgy with the girls every other episode. Although I definitely would have paid more attention to the storylines if that was the case.”

Chrissy smiled into her ice cream, blushing suddenly. Eddie, feeling a touch devious, decided to push his luck. “Anyways, I always liked Chrissy better.”

She looked up at him. “What?”

“You know, Chrissy, the blonde girl played by Suzanne Somers. Although Janet's pretty cute too.”

“Oh, right. I didn't actually know the names of the characters. Since I didn't watch the show and all.”

“Oh, yeah. Duh.”

“Do you, um, like blondes?” she asked, raising her eyes towards his.

“I, uh...don't really have a preference, honestly.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, nineteen year old virgins can't really afford to be picky.”

Chrissy stifled a laugh. “Oh my god.”

Eddie grinned, hoping he wasn't crossing any lines. “Sorry, that was...maybe a little too personal.”

“No, it's okay,” she said, thankfully not seeming too horrified. “You know, there's nothing wrong with still being a virgin. It's like, we have our whole lives ahead of us, you know?”

“Do you believe in that whole..” he gestured vaguely around. “No sex before marriage, make sure you're with the guy you want to spend your life with and have babies thing?”

Chrissy gave a slight shrug. “I don't know, honestly. On some level I do, but it didn't really work out that well for my parents.”

“Well, what about Jason? I assume he believes in all that stuff.”

She pressed her lips together. “I don't really want to talk about him, honestly.”

“Sorry, I don't mean to-”

“No, it's just...yeah, maybe we're not totally compatible, like he's somehow still at a tenth-grade reading level even though he has a college scholarship for next year. And maybe he believes in some things I don't, but like...I don't know. He's safe. He has a great family, and he's going to school at Indiana State to be an engineer, and maybe if I just stay pretty and don't question him too much, I can get out of here too.”

Eddie sat, feeling a little stunned at how bleak her assessment of her own relationship was. Was Jason just someone she was using? He couldn't find it in himself to feel bad for the guy; he figured he was using her just as much. “Well, that sounds, um...”

“Eddie, I...sorry, but I just don't really want to hear your opinion on this.” She grabbed the empty Blizzard cup out of his hand and wrenched the door open, quickly walking towards a nearby trash can. Eddie's head was spinning. He had long ago given up on selling the girl anything and was trying to give her a little comfort. He bit back an urge to be irritated with her; she was clearly going through hell and he was only making it worse. He reached over to shut her door and left the car, walking towards her. She stood with her arms crossed at the trash can, looking like she had when he first saw her at the bench.

“Ok, I will not discuss my opinions on Jason Carver or the relationship that you guys have. Cross my heart.”

She turned towards him, looking sheepish. “I'm not normally such a bitch, I swear. Ask anyone, I'm really nice! I don't know why...I can't seem to figure out what's come over me lately. That's why I wanted, you know, the weed in the first place. Is that still on the table?”

“It can be, if you want it to be.”

They were interrupted by an older, clearly drunk man, who brushed past them and tossed his open cup into the trash. Chrissy moved towards Eddie who put his arm around her to steer her away. She looked up at him thankfully.

“Look, Chris...I will sell you as much weed as you want, or I'll buy you as much ice cream as you need, if it makes you feel better. But I...” He bit his lip, working to get the right words out. “I don't want to leave you by yourself unless I know you'll be okay. Because it doesn't seem like you have a ton of actual support in your life. Unless I'm wrong?”

She shook her head, leaning closer to him. “No, you're right,” she said softly. “I'm...really not okay. And I don't even know what to do about it anymore. Or who to reach out to. I feel like I'm going crazy. Do you ever feel that way?”

“Only every day of my life. I mean, here I am, having ice cream with Chrissy Cunningham after all these years.”

She furrowed her brows. “After...” she gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, Corroded Coffin!”

He grimaced, hoping like hell this exact topic wouldn't come up. “Ah, yeah, you saw my band, huh?”

“Yes! What was it, sixth grade talent show, right? You guys were really good! Are you still in a band?”

“Technically, yes, although we've only officially played a few shows. With, like, four drunk people in the audience.”

“Well, make that five for your next show.”

He smiled tightly, falling silent.

“What? What is it, are you embarrassed? You guys were good, honestly. You know, for sixth graders.”

He nodded, pressing his lips together. “You know, I went to your birthday party that year, too.”

“Really? I don't remember you being there.”

“Yeah, I wasn't there for long that day. See, my mom made me go just to get me out of the house for a while, but she didn't give me a present to give you, even though I begged for days. I thought maybe the pleasure of my company would be enough, but then I saw the table with all the huge presents from the other rich kids. Then one of them started hassling me about it, asking where my present for you was. I was too damn embarrassed to stay after that, so I just...left. Just wandered around the neighborhood until dark and went back home.”

Chrissy looked at him sympathetically. “Hey, I'm sorry. I honestly didn't even realize you were there. I would have hung out with you, I didn't...I don't care about some present.”

He wrapped his arms tightly around himself, feeling a chill creep in. “But you do care, don't you? You know, because you're dating the future engineer with the great family even though you think he's an idiot.”

Chrissy gasped a little, color draining from her face. “That's not fucking fair, Eddie! You don't know what my family is like, you have no idea what I've gone through.”

He shook his head, grinning with sudden spite. “I know they're rich. They have one of the biggest houses on the block and they live in the best neighborhood, as do you! Meanwhile, have you noticed I live in the trailer park and have to sell drugs just to get by? Please spare me the 'daddy was mean to me' shit, Chrissy.”

She stood shivering, looking like he had slapped her. After a few long moments she spoke. “It's not my dad, actually. It's my mom.” She looked up at him with defiant tears brimming. “She makes me feel disgusting. She controls everything I do, everything I eat or say. If she knew I was here, she'd be more upset about the fucking ice cream than the fact that I tried to buy drugs. That's what I've been seeing. Her horrible, spiteful voice criticizing me at every turn. And my dad doesn't do shit.” She sniffled, trying to keep tears from falling. “He doesn't say a damn word, and she just keeps on chipping away at me. At my happiness, at my personality, at my fucking soul. So what if I want to find happiness with someone who has a great future? Is that so fucking wrong? Is it so wrong to want to get out of here?” She looked up at him, tears finally spilling. “Well, is it?”

Eddie looked deeply into her eyes; she felt like he was looking through her.

“Look, I'm not some paragon of, like, self-acceptance or anything. But what I do know is, at the end of the day, you have to find a way to live with yourself. To deal with your shit. Otherwise you're just going to keep making the same mistakes for the rest of your life. Trust me on this one.”

She scoffed, feeling lighter. “You talk like you're in your forties or something. You're only a year older than me.”

He threw up his arms, shrugging. “The wisdom that comes with a life well lived.” He smiled bashfully at her. “Look, I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't know what you were going through. Not that's that an excuse in any case. I get a little touchy about things because everyone in this town thinks I'm a piece of shit.”

“I don't, Eddie. I never did. I wish I had told those kids that were making fun of you to fuck off and leave my party. I would have loved to hang out with you.”

Eddie smiled wistfully. “You know, I only started Corroded Coffin to impress you.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, after the presentless birthday fiasco I started to think about how to make you like me. I gathered up a couple of my idiot friends, and we practiced playing for weeks. I thought if I seemed cool enough it would make up for the fact that I didn't have anything to give you. It only occurred to me after the fact that you were also competing, and therefore waiting in the wings, and not in the audience watching my show. I was fully devastated.” He laughed ruefully. “Pretty fucking dumb, huh?”

She shook her head. “No, I still heard it. My mom was back there with me, wanting me to focus on my stretches, but I was more interested in the cool rock band playing before me. I was actually nervous to go on after because of it.”

He laughed incredulously. “No fucking way, I made you nervous to go on? I don't think anyone clapped for us in the audience, not even the parents. In fact, I'm pretty sure we got a lecture on appropriate lyrical content.”

“Well, just know that I was giving you a standing ovation in my head.”

He grinned, feeling immensely pleased. “I had this ongoing fantasy that you would give me a rose or something after the show, and then we'd go out for ice cream.”

“What is it with you and ice cream, Eddie?”

He shrugged, laughing. “Who doesn't like ice cream?”

She sighed, feeling drained but better than she had in days. “Well, we got your ice cream. Rose delivery is pending.”

They both shivered as a harsh breeze cut through.

“Jesus, how long have we been standing here arguing?” Eddie asked.

“Too long. I need to get somewhere warm, I think.”

“Okay. Let me take you home.” Eddie made to move towards the driver's seat, but Chrissy didn't move from where she was standing. “What is it?”

She looked up at him owlishly. “I don't want to take up more of your time. I just don't know if I want to go home right now.”

“You...want to head back to my place for a bit? It's pretty warm, assuming the heat's working tonight.”

She looked at him, smiling shyly. Suddenly she walked forward, quickly closing the gap between them. She wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled into his neck, breathing deeply. “This is pretty warm.”

“Uh...yup, sure is.”

Despite the fact that she had approached him of her own accord and was currently snuggling closely, Eddie was hesitant to do anything untoward. There were only certain situations in which he found himself exuding confidence; these mostly amounted to being a game master and playing guitar (assuming drunk bar patrons weren't hurling slurred insults at him like the last time they'd played. And the time before).

He slowly enveloped her in his arms and let his head rest on hers. After a few moments she pulled away, eyeing him curiously. She inclined her head towards his van. “Come on.”

She walked forward and slipped into the passenger seat. Eddie, still in shock, found he couldn't move for a moment. Chrissy playfully honked the van's horn, shaking him out of his reverie.

“Right.” He hustled forward and got into the driver's seat, revving up the engine. As he backed out of the parking spot, he wondered what alternate universe he had slipped into where Chrissy Cunningham, queen of Hawkins High, was comfortably seated in his van on the way to his home. He grinned, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He decided not to question it and satisfied himself with stealing glances at her in the passenger seat. She looked out the window, watching the world pass by. She knew deep down that what Eddie said about not being able to escape yourself was true, but at this particular moment she was more than happy to give herself a break. Jason, her parents, the future, her visions and headaches; it could all wait for another day. Behind them, wind shivered through the trees as a storm began to brew.

Eddie pulled his van to a stop in the usual spot next to his trailer, hoping his uncle was working a late shift tonight. He didn't think his uncle would give them any grief, but he knew Chrissy would feel obligated to put on a smile and make polite conversation for a while. Right now, all he wanted to do was whatever it took to make her feel safe and secure. The fact that she had come to him for comfort out of everyone else in the world nudged at the edge of his mind; he fought off a gnawing hopefulness. Was this a desperate grab in the darkness on her part? And why him? Most of the girls at school thought he was terrifying, and he didn't do much to dissuade them in that notion. He hung out exclusively with the other outcasts at school, feeling pleased with their idolization of him, but at the end of the day he always came home to an empty room.

“Eddie?”

“Hm?” he looked up at her, realizing he'd been staring straight ahead at his steering wheel for a full 30 seconds. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“About what?” she said softly.

He looked her full in the face, taking in her doe eyes and full lips. Despite everything, she still had her hair pulled up neatly into a dark green scrunchie. He wanted nothing more than to reach over and pull it out. He wanted to watch her hair cascade loosely down, he wanted to kiss her deeply and hear her moan under his mouth. Would she let him, in that moment, in her desperation? Would it even be right if he did?

He sighed. “I was thinking about...what we have in the fridge. I'm sure you're hungry, and I'll be really embarrassed if all we have left is half of a jar of old olives.”

She giggled. “Well, I can order us a pizza.” She brandished the money that had been earmarked for the long-forgotten weed deal.

He grinned. “Sounds like a plan.”

As she walked around his small living room, eyeing his modest decor with trepidation, Eddie dialed the locally owned pizza shop. After listening to a clearly stoned guy go on his own personal reverie about Hawaiian pizza, he ordered a large pepperoni and hung up. He slowly made his way to where she stood looking at a cheaply framed picture.

“Hey, uh, pepperoni's good, right?”

She nodded slightly, looking far away. He hoped she hadn't gone into an odd trance again.

“What is it?”

“Is that your parents?” she asked, gesturing towards the photo.

He looked at the picture grimly. A young couple stood squinting in the California sun; the man, dark-haired and grinning, had his arm wrapped around an even younger-looking woman's waist. She was looking up at him with something like admiration.

“Yuup, that's the Munsons. Actually I don't think they were technically married yet, but I'm pretty sure I'm in this picture.”

She looked at him quizzically. He pointed towards his mother's midsection and tapped the photo.

“Right there.”

“Oh! So they-”

“That was when they lived in California. He was in his early twenties, and she had just turned nineteen at the time.”

Chrissy grimaced, turning away. “God, I can't even imagine being pregnant that young. Not that-” She spun towards him. “Sorry, not that I'm not happy you're here or anything!”

He laughed then, really laughed. “It's ok, I get it. She was way too young to be getting pregnant or married, or shacking up with an unemployed actor. That's what he wanted to do at that point; he thought he was going to be the next Marlon Brando or something. But what little money they had dried up quick after they had me, and they had to run to Indiana to live with my mom's parents with their tails between their legs.”

She looked up at him dolefully. “It wasn't your fault.”

“Yeah, I know. My dad got work in a canning factory, same one my uncle works at now. After a few years of that, he took off. Said something about how me and my mom had wrecked his life before he even had a change to start it. Who the hell knows where he is now. Maybe one day I'll see him in a fucking John Hughes movie or something.” He bit his lip ruefully.

“My mom couldn't deal with the fact that she had hung all her hopes on this asshole, and so she took it out on me. Nothing physical really, but...” he turned to look at her. “I know all about parents cutting you down and making you feel like nothing. One day in seventh grade, I think it was some 'bring your parents to school' thing...you know, I didn't have anyone. My mom had to find what work she could in town, and I just sat there all day, watching the other kids talk about how loving their moms were or how hard-working their dads were, and I just...at some point during the day, I started crying. And I didn't stop.” He looked up again at the picture, blinking back tears and breathing heavily.

“After a while I got called into the principal's office, and the counselor asked me if everything was okay at home. Well, obviously it wasn't. Even the podunk administration could see that. So we had a meeting, me and my mom and the principal and the counselor, and they suggested maybe there was a relative I could stay with while my mom 'got back on her feet'. She said that her brother could take care of me for a little bit, and then that little bit turned into seven years.”

“She moved to some hippie commune in Nevada and never looked back. Honestly, she was ecstatic to get rid of me. I tried to write her a few letters, but, uh, they came back as undelivered, so...c'est la vie, mother dear.”

“Jesus, Eddie,” she said, turning towards him with her brows furrowed. He shrugged in response, as if to say it was water under the bridge. She turned back towards the picture.

“I mean...you look a lot like your dad. And you have some of your mom's features, too, your eyes are kind of soft like hers.” She glanced at him and turned quickly away, blushing a bit. “But everything else is you, Eddie. I don't see you running away or abandoning someone who depends on you; I don't think you could be that selfish.”

He smiled, looking at her. “You barely know me, Chris.”

“Well, you've spent all day selflessly dealing with my shit, and you invited me into your home and everything.”

He scoffed. “Well, yeah, you know, the president swung by earlier, but he had to leave. It was just too ornate, he said. Too big and too fancy. It was too intimidating for him.”

She grinned up at him, bemused. “But this place is yours.”

“Yeah, so? It's a...fucking shack in a shithole town in the middle of nowhere.”

She looked down at her shoes. “I guess what I'm trying to say, is that it doesn't matter where you come from, or even where you are at any given moment, necessarily. It doesn't matter if your parents were assholes or if all you have in the fridge is fucking old olives.” She looked straight through him. “There's just something about you. You're kind, even though people haven't been kind to you. You could have told me to leave you alone a hundred times today, you know? I feel like everyone else in my life only values me if I'm the right kind of person. The right kind of daughter, or girlfriend, or athlete. But I feel like I can be myself with you. Good or bad or scared or hopeless, and you'll be there.”

She sighed, looking down. “I really wish I hadn't been so oblivious this whole time. You know, here you were, being you. Wonderful, sweet, passionate Eddie. I feel like I'm just now finding a lighthouse in the storm that is my life.”

He looked at her, not knowing what to say. “Ah..”

“Sorry! Sorry, that was really intense and...melodramatic. I guess I'm just really grateful for what you've done today.”

“I really haven't done anything special, Chrissy. I mean, obviously you're going through a lot. What kind of asshole wouldn't notice, or care, about being there for you? Anyone would have done the same.”

She shook her head, a thin smile etched onto her face. “Not anyone. No one. No one...in my life has noticed anything's wrong. And it is wrong, it's...I don't even know how to wrap my head around what it is that's so wrong. Just...fucking everything. And you're the only one who even cared. You could have sold me weed and had me out of your life in ten minutes. But you didn't.”

She stepped forward, closing the gap between them once more and wrapping her arms around his slender upper body. She looked up at him expectantly. The seconds ticked by, and she continued to stare with her preposterously icy-blue eyes. Something primal roared within Eddie's chest.

Do it do it kiss her my god she wants this kiss her

But something held him back. He pictured the pep rally where, only a few short hours ago, Jason Carver had called out to Chrissy, marking her as his own in front of the whole school, and she had smiled radiantly at him from across the gym. It wasn't that he thought she belonged to Jason; far from it, she was capable of making her own decisions even in the throes of despair she was currently living through. If she wanted to leave the guy because he was a shithead, by all means she had that right. But Eddie had only had a small handful of what could generously be called romantic encounters in his life. A furtive kiss her and there under the high school bleachers, far away from any prying, judgmental eyes.

No, no self-respecting Hawkins student wanted to be seen fraternizing with Eddie Munson. And Chrissy, whatever she was going through, was clearly looking to him for comfort. He would gladly give it as a friend, would even give her what passed for guidance in the Munson house. But some secret, hurt part of him couldn't get past the notion that, once this was all over, once she got past whatever this was, their encounter would be a scant memory, and she would go running back to the safety of the rich boy with the good family. He didn't hold it against her by any means, but he couldn't quite get past it either. Her face had taken on a confused and slightly hurt look. “Ed-”

A sudden knock sounded on the wooden door, and they jumped apart as if struck by lightning.

“Yo, pizza's here!”

They looked at each other, both lost in their own private miseries, unable to process the reality of the pizza guy at that moment.

Another frantic knock.

“Yo, yo, last call, muchachos!”

He gestured vaguely towards the door. “Do you want to...?”

“Right! I'll be right there, one second!”

She cast one more reproachful look at Eddie and made her way towards the door.

They sat in the dimly lit living room, Eddie in his customary chair and Chrissy occupying Eddie's uncle's much more comfortable barcalounger. On the outdated TV, Bob Barker was advising the latest contestant on The Price is Right on the finer points of spinning the big wheel. Despite the awkwardness the two had found themselves in after the earlier encounter, they had scarfed the pizza together with the reckless abandon of teenagers who still had good metabolism on their side. Eddie glanced over guiltily at Chrissy, who was curled up in the plush chair, her head resting on the arm.

“Do you think this game is rigged?” she asked after a long silence. “Like, someone is backstage controlling what number the person gets when they spin?”

“Maybe,” he said dolefully. “That would be kind of fucked up, though. You wait your whole life for a chance to get on the show and win money to put your stupid kids through college and be the envy of all your housewife friends, then some asshole decides your number is, like, 10. You ride all the way home to bumfuck nowhere in silence with your husband, who you can't stand because you're pretty sure he's boning his hot little secretary, and all you can think about is punching Bob Barker in his stupid, smug little face.”

She giggled freely. “You really paint a picture, Eds.”

The hysterically grinning woman on TV spun the wheel with all her might, and it landed on 30. Not bad, Eddie thought.

Chrissy gazed at Eddie, the bluish light reflecting off his face and making him look ghostly. Had she misread this whole day completely? Was she that arrogant to think any guy would want to kiss her? He had been so nice to her today, so not what she thought he'd be like. Yes, they had had a few outbursts of emotion here and there, but she was sure she was partly to blame as well. They were so different, after all, and she had come to him for help. She had asked so much of him, and he had swallowed his pride and years of hurt and shown himself to be a real friend.

Maybe that was all he wanted to be; he had his reasons, she was sure. Maybe she wasn't his type at all; wasn't it possible he went for dark-haired, grungy goth types like the kind he'd see at the bars he played? God, he must have girls all over him, with his long rocker hair and soulful eyes and dexterous fingers...

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie could see Chrissy staring. Oh god what am I doing you idiot don't be an idiot so what if she never talks to you again go for it you dumb dick-

Eddie was spared the agony of indecision by the jingle of keys in his front door. His uncle quietly came in and closed it, not sure if Eddie was asleep or not. When he came into the room proper and saw a girl in her cheerleading outfit in his chair, he started in surprise. He tried to dredge up what little he remembered of his school romancing days so as not to embarrass his nephew.

“Hello there, kids. Don't mind me, I'll just grab a beer and head to bed. Long day today, long day tomorrow.”

“Actually, I should probably get going. My mom is definitely wondering where I am. My name's Chrissy, by the way.” She stood up, adjusting her skirt with one hand while extending the other.

“Wayne Munson,” he smiled gruffly at her. “Pleased to meet you, young lady.”

Eddie waggled his fingers at his uncle. “Hey, Pops. How was the old factory?”

“Oh, you know, just threw on my finest suit and had lunch with the president of the company. They're gonna make me an exec any day now.” He winked at Eddie.

Eddie stood up, groaning with fullness and languor. “Come on, Chris.”

The two walked outside, Eddie closing the door behind him. Chrissy stood, twisting her hands together with the old anxiety. His eyes flicked down to her hands; he frowned slightly but said nothing.

“Well, I better start before it gets too late,” she said, gesturing behind her at the dark street.

Eddie scoffed. “What, are you going to walk? It's at least a couple of miles.”

“Yeah, I'm fine. With all the pizza and ice cream I think I'd better get some cardio in before everything fully digests.”

“Ok, not that I'm not in full support of a fitness regimen, but it's pretty dark out. And it's like 10:30.”

“Eddie, I'm fine, really.”

He could see a touch of stubbornness around her eyes that hadn't been there earlier today. Maybe she was still a little miffed that he hadn't returned her affectionate gesture. He bit his lip; it was late and she was trying his patience. He tried to see it from her point of view. She had spilled her guts out to someone she hadn't spoken to in years, basically a stranger. He had given every indication that he was someone to be trusted, someone she could be open and intimate with. Maybe she even thought him attractive; why wouldn't she put everything together and assume he wanted the same thing? The only reason he hadn't was his own sense of pride, really. He wondered again how she would respond if he just took that one last step forward, if he wrapped his hands around her warm body and took her mouth in his. God, he wanted nothing more in that moment. She stood looking up at him still.

He sighed and pushed his complicated feelings aside, noting to himself that she wasn't the only stubborn one in this pairing. “I will not be able to sleep tonight knowing that you're walking around alone in the dark. That's how girls get Bundy'd, you know.”

She huffed a laugh. “You know, it's kind of bullshit. Guys can walk around at night without any fear, but just because I'm a girl, I have to be carried home like a fragile little...thing.”

Eddie rubbed his long-fingered hands over his face, breathing deeply. “I one-hundred percent agree with you. We can definitely talk about the finer points of feminist theory in the morning, but for right now, will you please get in the van?”

“Now you sound like Ted Bundy.”

He laughed hard, feeling his tension melt away. God, she was something.

Smiling again at the fact she had made him laugh, she went to his van, Eddie trailing behind.

If you're lost you can look and you will find me

Time after time

Cyndi Lauper's soulful voice filled the cabin of the van; as they pulled to a stop at a red light, Eddie's fingers drummed the rhythm of the song on the steering wheel.

Chrissy smiled. “You know you can change this to like, Def Leppard or something. Really, I don't mind.”

He looked askance at her. “Hey, just because I have the hair, and the rings, and the tattoos, and the ripped jeans...okay, I see where you're coming from. I do sort of fit the image, don't I? But I am a multi-faceted person, Chris, make no mistake.”

“Yeah, I gathered that.”

Their easy camaraderie had come back during the ride to Chrissy's house, much to her relief. Chrissy didn't think she could take Eddie being mad at her or feeling weird around her. She needed him, and once she was over whatever she was going through, she would do everything she could to return the favor. She would go out of her way to publicly befriend him, to show the rest of the kids he wasn't so bad and scary. She could see him being very popular once people got to know him. And if he didn't want that, if he wanted to stay in his own little world of guitar solos and late night shows, well she would support that too.

“Where did you say your band played again?”

“The Hideout.” He half-rolled his eyes. “Shitty little bar up on 4th and Main. I'm trying to convince the owner to bring us on as the “official entertainment”. Then, who knows, we might even get paid in something besides old beer.”

“I'm looking forward to it.”

He smiled and glanced at her, his eyes a little soft. He was so focused on the pleasant twisting in his gut at the thought of her in the audience that he almost missed the turn into her culdesac.

“Oh! I'm right here!”

He swung a hard left and skidded up to the driveway; a dog awoke in one of the nearby houses and started barking an alarm.

“Thank you for traveling Eddie Airlines,” he said in a cheesy announcer voice. “If you need to hurl, please use our designated paper bags. And by the way, your luggage has definitely been dropped in the ocean, so sorry.”

She laughed, playfully hitting him in the arm.

“Do you want me to walk you to the door?”

“No, I can walk a few feet unaccompanied, I promise.”

“Ok, I just...” He faltered, hesitating. He didn't want to spoil the light mood they had regained, but he didn't feel quite right just sending her on her way. “I worry about you, Chris. Like, I know this has been a bitch of a day, and you're going through stuff. And not that you're not strong. I feel like you must be, to go through the things you do. I feel like I don't even know the half of it, honestly.”

She pursed her lips and nodded slightly. “Yeah, I mean, I didn't want to dump everything on you all at once. Maybe today was just about getting...reacquainted? It's been such a long time since we knew each other. Even back then, stupid me didn't take the time to get to know you that well. And I'm sorry if I made you angry or did anything to make you feel weird today.”

He shook his head emphatically. “No, if anything it's me. I've never-”

Chrissy gasped suddenly; Eddie swiveled his head to see her porch lights had been turned on.

“Shit, I have to go. My mom's going to kill me for being out so late.”

Before he knew it, she had wrapped him in a tight hug. Her body pressed against his made him feel a little faint. Then, just as quickly, she pulled away and slid out of her seat. She started towards her door at a light jog.

“Chris!” he hissed.

“What?” she said, turning.

“Can we talk more tomorrow? About everything?”

“Yes, I promise.” She reached through the open window and grasped his hand for a fleeting moment. Then she was off again like a shot. He peeled out as quietly as he could, making his way to the main road. After a few minutes he pulled into a mostly-empty gas station lot. He sat for a few minutes with his head resting on the steering wheel, trying to get his bearings. The gas-station attendant, a chipper mid-20s man named Dave, came out to the parking lot and surveyed Eddie.

“Hey, man, rough night?”

Eddie grunted in response.

“Too much vino?”

Eddie shook his head, not lifting it from the wheel.

“Woman stuff?”

After a slight pause, Eddie nodded.

Dave clicked his tongue sympathetically. I know how you feel, man. Blue slushie?”

Eddie lifted his head at last and peered up at Dave at an angle. “Put it on my tab, amigo.”

The next day dawned with an unseasonable warmth; November mornings usually brought at least a light dusting of snow on the ground. Chrissy awoke blearily, her mother's excessive lecturing from the previous night still ringing in her ears. What was she thinking getting home so late, did she know how worried her mother had been all night, this town has all kind of riff-raff around to snatch you up

Chrissy sat on the edge of her bed and couldn't stop a smile from sneaking onto her face. She guessed that the person she had spent the previous day with would count as riff-raff in her mother's estimation. She honestly couldn't care less, however; she felt more empowered and sure of herself than she had in ages. She actually felt like she was her own person and not just an extension of what everyone wanted and needed her to be. If that was how Eddie Munson made her feel, she had every intention of going straight to Jason's locker and breaking up with him once she got to school. Except...Eddie hadn't kissed her. Chrissy frowned. She had expected him to when they hugged outside of the Dairy Queen; when he didn't, she thought maybe he was just shy or taken aback. She was sure he would later on when they were together in his trailer. Her thoughts turned back to last night.

She felt almost certain that he liked her; there was something in his brown eyes that betrayed a longing, the same as she felt for him. What was holding him back exactly? She was determined to talk to him today, to suss out exactly what was going on between him so there was no misunderstanding. Her own problems felt a million miles away at that moment; the last thing she wanted to think about was her headaches and visions. Besides, as long as Eddie was around, she didn't think she had to worry about any of that stuff anymore.

“Chrissy!,” her mother shrieked from the ground floor. “You'd better be up and doing your calisthenics routine, young lady! Just because you were doing god knows what last night doesn't mean you can be lazy today!”

Chrissy sighed with aggravation and began to pull on her workout clothes.

Mike and Dustin sat next to Eddie in the lunchroom, talking rapturously about the D&D campaign they had just finished the previous weekend. Normally he would be basking in the praise and plotting for the next phase, but right now he felt a million miles away. He had had a vision that morning that Chrissy would be waiting for him at his locker with her girlish smile and coaxing eyes. But he hadn't seen her all day, even though their lockers were fairly close to each other. Was she avoiding him? Was she embarrassed about all the things she'd told him, or was her plan all along just to use him as a dumping ground for the stuff she couldn't tell her boyfriend?

He scolded himself, knowing he was being shitty. He was the one who hadn't returned her clear signals even though he'd wanted to. He did genuinely care about Chrissy, but he seemed to keep getting caught up in his old petty, middle school hurt. He scanned the lunchroom, not seeing Chrissy or Jason, even at the basketball players' usual table. He had a horrible image of the two of them under the bleachers, Chrissy giggling as Jason kissed her ears and neck. Eddie stood up suddenly, making the other members of the Hellfire club look up with concern.

“I, uh, I'll be right back,” he said, striding quickly away before they had a chance to ask follow up questions. He walked, not sure where he was even going. Fuck fuck fuck Jason Carver and his stupid basketball team I hope they get into a bus crash

Eddie wound up at his locker, not knowing what he was hoping for. If there was nothing from Chrissy, he could chalk yesterday up to a vivid acid hallucination and leave it at that. He could forget about all the preppy kids from the right side of town who had everything going for them, just like they would forget about the scary drug dealer from the trailer park.

If there was something, though...

He slowly opened the locker, gritting his teeth. He didn't bother with a lock as he had nothing valuable worth taking, which had occasionally resulted in someone leaving mud or an old sneaker in his locker out of spite. This time, though, a neatly folded piece of paper fell out and floated to the ground. He scrambled to pick it up before some idiot stepped on it; he unfolded it and read

Hey Eds

If you're free today, meet me at Top Shelf Records at 4:00.

Chrissy~

He slid to the ground with his back against the lockers, feeling a little dazed. Brian, one of the less douchey seniors who he had sold weed to, walked past and gave him a sympathetic nod.

“Having a bad trip, Ed?”

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly, grinning despite himself. “Something like that.”

“You looking for something special?”

Chrissy glanced up at the record store employee, who looked like he hadn't showered in days. He also seemed to be in his mid-30s, which made the slightly lecherous smile on his face that much weirder. She gave him a quick, tight smile. “Just, um...waiting for someone.” She checked her watch, a thin, white-gold piece she had gotten for her 18th birthday that year. 4:03 PM. Thankfully, she saw Eddie's familiar frame approaching her in the corner of her eye; she nearly ran to him and threw her arms around him, both happy to see him and glad she wasn't alone in the store with a weirdo.

“Hey, you,” she breathed into his ear. Eddie returned her hug, whispering back, “Hey, kiddo.”

She scoffed and broke away from him, squaring her hands on her hips, trying to look older. He tousled her hair playfully and winked. She whirled away from him, giggling. “Come on, old man, help me find a good record. I need to spend my allowance money before I cave and buy more junk food.”

“An allowance, huh?” he said teasingly.

“Mm-hm,” she intoned, probably not wanting to get into a discussion/argument about how she got spending money from her parents.

“So I guess you got an earful from your mom about yesterday?”

“Just like I thought, she was more upset about me eating than staying out late. It was like she knew somehow, she's like a bloodhound. But oh my god I forgot how good pizza is.”

He nodded sagely. “No one should live without pizza. Or...” he took a record from the nearest pile and held it close to his chest. “Queen.”

Chrissy looked at the record cover; it showed the four band members looking straight ahead, all wearing leather jackets similar to Eddie's. She laughed, pointing to the man on the right side of the picture. “That one kind of looks like you.”

“Brian May, one of the greatest guitarists of all time? Please, I don't even deserve to be spoken of in the same sentence.”

Chrissy grinned. “Yeah, I've heard of Queen. I haven't listened to much of their newer stuff, but they have a few songs I like. That one from a few years ago, I forget the name.” She began to hum a familiar melody line. Eddie softly sang along, knowing the lyrics by heart.

“You take my body, I give you heat. You say you hungry, I give you meat.”

“Oh my god,” Chrissy laughed, blushing with embarrassment. Even Eddie turned a little red, covering his face with his long hair. “Yeah, it's not very subtle.”

“What's that one called again?”

“Uhh...Get Down, Make Love.”

Chrissy blushed harder and turned away, clearing her throat. “Is there anything a little less risque? I think if my parents heard that song they'd shit.”

Eddie scanned the record boxes nearest him. “Hmm..oh, here we go.” He held up a vinyl of Rod Stewart's latest album. “The least sexy man in the music industry.”

She threw her eyebrows up. “Speak for yourself.”

“Come on, his stuff is so cheesy.” He broke into a bad rendition of “Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?” complete with Rod's signature shoulder shimmy.

She rolled her eyes at him, grinning. “Yeah, like 'I give you meat' is so erotic.”

“Ok, miss high culture, what's the most romantic album in this place?”

Chrissy looked around, then gasped. She ran over to the other side of the store and came back with Fleetwood Mac's Rumors.

“You're kidding?”

“What? You don't like it?”

“No, I love it. Obviously it's one of the best albums of all time. But it's literally about a breakup. As in, the lyrical content and the actual creation behind it. It's the opposite of romantic.”

“Hm, I guess.” She turned the album over, looking through the song list. “The way I see it, Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham broke up when they were making the album, right? So all that pain and love and betrayal, it had to go somewhere. Instead of just sitting there being mad at each other forever, they put it into the music. Every song is like pure, raw emotion. And maybe it isn't romantic in a positive way, but it still came from that place where you feel for the other person. I feel like loving and hating someone are two sides of the same coin. It's only when you're indifferent to someone that you know they mean nothing to you.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he said, sounding pensive. “But sometimes being with someone who doesn't drive you nuts is the best-case scenario. You're not up all night wondering what you mean to them, or what they mean to you.”

She fixed him with a long look, grinning from the corner of her mouth. “What would you know about it?” she asked playfully.

He scoffed. “Are you implying I know nothing about relationships?”

“Have you been in one?”

He wanted to protest further, but he remembered he'd already told her about being a virgin. He threw up his hands in defeat. “Ok, you got me there. Still...” He rubbed at one of his rings with his thumb, an old, anxious habit he'd tried and failed to break. “There's nothing worse than wanting to be with someone but not really knowing where you stand with them.”

“That's part of the fun, Eddie,” she said coyly. She started to walk up to the register to pay for the record; after a few seconds, she turned to find him standing in the same spot. He looked almost hurt. She sighed and marched back to him.

“You want to know where I stand, Eddie?” she said with exasperation.

“Yeah, actually,” he bit back.

“Ok, fine. I really like you. I'm sorry that we haven't talked in years, and I'm sorry that I didn't see you at my stupid birthday party that I hated being at, and I'm sorry I didn't bring you a goddamn rose when your band played. I was a stupid kid who didn't know any better. But now, I'm here, and you're here, and I feel like there's something between us. And you keep pulling away from it, and it's frustrating and confusing.” She searched his stony face. “What is it? What did I do wrong? Can't you forgive me for not seeing you all this time? Please?”

“It's not that, Chris. I just feel like you don't really want to be with me. I don't come from a nice, well-off family...I don't have a future! You're just going to get me out of your system, and then run back to where it's safe. All I'll ever be to you is the weird kid who you hooked up with in high school on a stupid whim, because you were feeling reckless and lost and didn't know what else to do. And you'll tell Jason, and he'll forgive you because he's such a great guy, and you can go back to your nice little life full of PTA meetings and pep rallys.”

Their voices were loud enough that other people in the store could hear them arguing, but Chrissy didn't really care.

“Fuck Jason Carver! I broke up with him during lunch.”

Eddie stepped back in shock. “Wait, really?”

“Yes. I told him that we have nothing in common and he didn't really know me. Then he called me a bitch and said I must be fucking half the basketball team behind his back.”

Eddie flushed with anger. “What the fuck?”

Chrissy shook her head. “Forget it, this isn't about him. I thought a lot about what you said last night. You were right, I shouldn't be with someone just because I'm afraid to be alone, or because I'm not sure what my future's going to look like. My grades should be good enough to get at least a partial scholarship to state school, and if I work hard I'll never have to see my parents again after this year.”

“Jesus, Chrissy, is it really that bad with them?”

She nodded, brushing away tears. “Yeah.”

He looked contritely at her. “Hey, I'm sorry for making this all about me. I was just holding on to some old bullshit wound from a hundred years ago, and here you are dealing with awful fucking people every day.” He embraced her, hoping she would forgive him.

She held him tightly against her. “I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren't worth anything. It was stupid of me to try so hard to be a part of the right crowd. I just wanted to make my parents happy with me.” She shook her head in disgust. “Why did I try so hard to make them like me, Eddie? They're my parents. Shouldn't they love me no matter what?”

“Yeah,” he said huskily, nestling his head into her neck. “In a perfect world.”

“Oh, god, I'm sorry,” she said, pulling away. “Your parents-”

“Are shitty, and they left me. Your parents are shitty, and they're still around. If anything, I'm the lucky one.”

Chrissy laughed, relieved they had finally worked out the unspoken tension between them. A beam of sunlight fell on Eddie's long hair from a high window, making the dark curls look almost golden. She felt her stomach twist in a pleasant knot. He noticed her staring and felt his own butterflies.

“You good?”

“Mm-hm,” she said dreamily.

“So what's it going to be?” he asked, holding up the records they had discussed. “The doomed but ultimately compelling love affair of Fleetwood Mac? Or the sheer, raw rock power of Freddie and the gang?”

She shook her head. “I already have Rumors. And Queen is good, but...” She turned and picked up the Rod Stewart record. “He's my guy.”

Eddie laughed, shaking his head. “All right, it's your allowance.” He took it from her, looking it over curiously. “Is he your favorite singer?”

“Second favorite.”

“And the first is?”

“Eddie Munson.”

He blushed. “You've never even heard me play.”

“Not true,” she said, pulling on his sleeve to steer him to the register. “Remember, Corroded Coffin?”

“Oh god,” he said in mock anger. “Will I ever be free of my middle school shame?”

“Not as long as I'm around to remind you.”

They made their way to the back of the line and Eddie slid an arm around her waist as they waited. In response, she rested her head on his shoulder. Behind them, a young, dark-haired man hurried out of the store with his hands in the pockets of his letterman jacket.

“Wait, you don't actually have a record player?”

They stood in Eddie's sparse bedroom, the Rod Stewart record clutched protectively in Chrissy's hands.

Eddie shrugged and pulled out the pockets of his ripped jeans, showing they were empty apart from an old gum wrapper. “No, sorry. Had to sell it a few months ago when no one was buying from me.” He made a pouty face at her, pushing his lower lip out and getting on his knees. “Forgive me?”

Chrissy laughed, placing her hand delicately under his chin. He looked up at her and the sight of him there nearly took her breath away. She, however, was determined to keep her composure around him and not act like the inexperienced schoolgirl she was. “Fine, I guess Rod will have to wait.”

“Yes!” he pumped his fist in the air and stood up.

“You sure you don't have one? Maybe you just don't want to listen to this one in particular,” she said teasingly.

“Actually,” he said, crossing his arms and bouncing over to his desk, “I'm saving up for a cassette player. Those are more in these days, anyways. In a few years I bet they won't even make vinyl records anymore.” He reached into his bottom drawer and pulled out a metal box.

“What's that?”

He sat on his bed and put the box in his lap; looking up at her, he said “Literally everything I have in the world.” He brandished his keyring and unlocked the box; inside was a slight wad of cash and a few old concert tickets. He pulled it out and thumbed through it. “About $80. Hopefully if they don't cut any of my uncle's hours this week I can hang onto it long enough to actually buy the thing.”

She said nothing, not wanting to be insensitive. She didn't know what it was like to live on such a thin margin, where a little bit of money could be the difference between making it to the next week or not. No wonder Eddie was so defensive about the difference in their lifestyles; she was privileged in terms of this at least.

“Hey, when's your birthday?”

“October 10th.”

“Ah, I just missed it then. Maybe...I can get you a belated present?”

He grinned. “Chris, I don't need you to buy me a cassette player. Really, I can take care of myself.”

She nodded, not wanting to be pushy. Eddie was definitely the type to not just take someone's money; she felt it was still an injustice, though. If she saved her allowance for a few weeks, she could buy the player with plenty to spare.

“How long have you been a dealer?”

He shrugged, looking away and fiddling with the rips in his jeans. “Sophomore year, you know, this guy approached me, said he was about to graduate. He told me I seemed like I could use a steady source of income, and he gave me Reefer Rick's number. That was all it took, really. I call the guy, he hooks me up with what I need, and I sell to the local kiddies. It was actually a blessing, because the money's saved me and my uncle's ass more than once. You know, I eat food and guzzle gas same as the rich kids, and he never planned to raise a kid until I showed up on his doorstep like Oliver fucking Twist.”

“Do you ever think about leaving?”

“What, and move out to Hollywood like my old man? Try to make it big?”

“Or, you know, be a musician.” She gestured to the guitar on his wall. “New York's not that far from Hawkins.”

“Yeah, and about a thousand times more expensive. I can barely scrape by here, you know? How am I going to make it out there with a million other people trying to do the same thing?”

“I'm sorry,” she said, looking down. “I'm not trying...I just don't want you to be stuck here.”

He smiled, leaning backwards on his bed until his shirt rode up. “Already planning my future, eh? Figured you were that type.”

“Well, you know, I don't want to be stuck here either.” She tried to keep her voice level but her eyes flicked to his exposed lower half.

“And what does the intelligent and beautiful Chrissy Cunningham want to do with her life?” he asked, drumming his long fingers on his upper chest rhythmically.

“Um, I'm not totally sure yet. Maybe I could be a vet? I really love animals. But, you know, you have to take all the pre-reqs first, like Psych and World Studies and all that. I can figure it out while I'm doing all that.”

“Hm.”

Chrissy stood with her hands behind her back, rocking back and forth on her heels; she couldn't see Eddie's face with the angle he was laying in, so she wasn't sure if he was being moody or just contemplative. She decided to risk it anyways.

“Do you...have any plans for college?”

“Chris, I don't know if you've noticed but I haven't even finished high school. This is my third go at passing senior year.”

Right, she knew that. “How come?” she blurted out, instantly regretting it. “I mean, I feel like you're smart enough to get through all your classes. Maybe it's just an issue of focusing? I can tutor you if you like...”

“No, you're right, I'm start enough to pass all my classes.”

“Then, why-”

“I don't want to graduate.”

Chrissy wasn't sure what to say to that.

“You-”

“I don't want to graduate, because then I'll have to get a real job, probably at the damn canning factory where my uncle works, and then it'll really sink in that I'm just another piece of Munson trash.” He was splayed out now with his arms stretched out, grasping at loose fibers on his bedspread. “You know, at school, people look up to me in the D&D group, I have people to play with in the band, I have customers coming to me for shit all the time. You know, why give all that up for some shitty job I'll spend the rest of my life at anyways? I just want to...you know, be a kid for a little longer. To have some hope. Once it's done, I'll know for sure that that's it.”

Chrissy was taken aback; he had chided her for being afraid of taking a risk and going it alone, but here he was not even wanting to move on from high school.

“It sounds like...nothing, forget it.” She shook her head and sighed.

“What? What does it sound like?”

He sat up now, leaning on his hands. He was looking at her, not with anger or hurt but genuine curiosity.

“It...sounds like you're afraid,” she choked out. She looked at him, eyes wide, hoping she hadn't touched another nerve.

“Yeah,” he said simply. “I am.”

She was relieved and pressed on.

“Maybe it doesn't have to be that way? You can go to community college, you know? They have all kind of scholarships-”

“You sound like my counselor. You know, the one they have everyone talk to about 'their future'.” He disdainfully acted out the phrase in air quotes. “She said my options for scholarships are sports, academics, or being really fucking poor. I'm obviously not into sports and I've failed senior year more than once so I don't think an academic scholarship is going to work out. And the scholarships they have for poor kids are pretty few and far between. I think I'd rather that money go to someone who really deserves it.”

“You don't think you deserve it?”

He shrugged. “What, am I going to be a doctor? A lawyer? Am I going to write a dissertation on zoological morphology?”

She made a face, giggling.

“Yeah, I can read, believe it or not,” he said, smiling. “I get it, you know. Technically I have 'options' but I just can't see myself really going for all that. For you, you know, it's different. I'm sure you'll find something you're passionate about and be fucking great at it. And you can come visit me, you know, like an old cheetah past it's prime at the zoo.”

“Oh my god, Eddie.”

“Can we be done with this conversation, please?” he looked at her pleadingly.

“Yes, we don't need to talk about this now-”

“Or ever.”

She walked over to his guitar which obviously held a place of honor in the room. “How long have you been playing? Was Corroded Coffin your first big foray into the music industry?”

He sauntered over and plucked at the strings in quick succession, playing a tune. “Yeah, pretty much since I moved in with my uncle. He actually got me this as a welcome present. That's when I knew it was me and him against the world. He used to play in a band when he was in high school.”

“I've always wanted to learn.”

“Acoustic or electric?”

“What, you don't think girls can rock out?”

“Please, Barracuda is like one of my favorite songs. You as a rocker, though, I'm not sure I see it.”

“You're very presumptuous, Eddie Munson.”

“Ok,” he said, taking the guitar down and handing it to her. “Show me what you've got.”

“No, I mean, I've never even touched a guitar. I'm mostly...”

“What?”

“Nothing, forget I said anything.”

“Chrissy.”

“Eddie.”

“You're mostly a...” he motioned for her to go on.

“A singer. Like, obviously not professionally. Not even really trained. My parents thought it was stupid so they never let me get lessons. But if I was in a band, I would want to be the singer.”

“Alright, show me what you got, girl.” He sat back on the bed, crossing his legs and getting his guitar into position.

“Oh, please, Eddie, I'm really not that good.”

He simply motioned again for her to go on; she sighed and scrunched her face up.

“You're a real tough cookie with a long history...of breaking little hearts like the one in me,” she sang quietly, hoping she could get through it without embarrassing herself too much. Eddie quickly got up to speed and started playing along with her.

“That's okay, lets see how you do it, put up your dukes, let's get down to it.” She got more into the rhythm as she sang, even getting into a fighting stance and shaking her hips along to the guitar. As the song reached it's end, she pulled out her scrunchie and shook her hair loose, whipping it in time to the music.

“Fire away!” she sang, stamping her feet to the final lyric and raising her first in the air. Eddie applauded, moving his guitar to the side. “That was awesome, are you kidding me!”

She laughed, flushed and sweaty but beaming. “I think that's the first time I've ever sang in front of anyone.”

He bowed slightly and took her hand, kissing it. “I'm honored.”

Their eyes met as he stood back up.

“Do that again,” Chrissy said quietly.

“What?”

She nodded down to her hand. He laughed but did as he was told. This time, as he bent down, she took his face in her hands. They stood for a moment, Chrissy rubbing her thumb along Eddie's bottom lip.

“If I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted to kiss me,” Eddie said drolly.

She leaned towards him, eliminating the space between them at last. As they kissed, her hands roamed along his body, finding a spot to settle under his shirt near his middle back.

“Should I take this off?”

She bit her lip and nodded. He tossed his shirt into a nearby pile and made his way to the bed, holding out his hand for her to join him. She clambered into the bed, trying to adjust her skirt so it wouldn't reveal too much. They continued kissing, his mouth soft on hers. Her hands roamed freely along his sparsely hairy chest and thin back. He wrapped his arm around her midsection and soon they rolled into a position where Chrissy could straddle him.

“Is this ok?” he asked.

“Mm-hm,” she muttered, surprised at how comfortable this all felt. When other guys had pushed her boundaries, she had always felt an awful crawling in the pit of her stomach and tried to get out of the situation as quickly as possible. Here, looking down at Eddie, with his beautiful brown eyes and soft hair, she felt like she could do this forever.

“What do you like?” she asked. “I mean, I know you haven't had sex but guys talk about this stuff, right?”

“Uh...kind of. I mean, I've never really thought much about it beyond the basics. I want you to be in control here, you know?”

She smiled, feeling a rush of warmth to her midsection. “In control, huh?” She shimmied down a bit to where she could feel his length; she spread her legs and began to move in circles.

“Ohhh, fuck,” he moaned. “That feels really good.”

“I bet it would feel even better if you took your pants off.”

“Jesus, Chrissy,” he laughed hoarsely. “What was this about you being inexperienced?”

She shrugged, smiling confidently. “I'm just stating a fact.”

She climbed off him and stood on the side of the bed. “Please.”

“Don't have to ask me twice.” Eddie slid his jeans off and kicked them to the side. She positioned herself again, rubbing herself against his erect cock through his boxers. She bit her lip; it felt good, but she didn't know if was quite enough. There was too much material between them; she wanted to feel him in her. She doubted he had any condoms, though, and she took the school's paltry safe sex lessons to heart. She settled for sliding off her underwear and throwing them on the ground; still wearing her sweater and skirt, she rubbed herself against him, feeling it throb and leak under her.

“Is this good, Eddie?”

“Ohh yeah,” he said, clearly in a world of his own bliss. She moaned, feeling her own wetness soak through his thin boxers. He was so close to being inside her but also frustratingly far. She wanted his cock fully in her, pounding and filling her. She pictured them both naked, her leaning against a dresser as he stood and fucked deep into her. The image and the friction between them sent her over the edge; she moaned loudly and gripped Eddie's hips, rubbing faster and harder until she was spent. She climbed off of him and lay next to him, catching her breath.

“Holy shit that was awesome,” he gasped, laughing delightedly. “You are something else, Cunningham.”

She rolled over to face him, grinning. “Do you need to, you know, finish?”

“Is that okay?”

She nodded, wanting to see what it was like for him. He pushed down his boxers and gripped his swollen cock, jerking his hand along the shift and rubbing the tip with his thumb. She ran her fingers through his hair as he brought himself to orgasm, kissing along his collarbone. The sound of his moans made her shiver; she wanted to make him sound like that as much as possible. As he finished, she felt herself wanting to come again. He stood up to clean himself off in the bathroom; she pushed up her skirt and began to rub herself quickly. Eddie came back and felt himself flush deeply at the sight of Chrissy, still in her cheerleader uniform, sans underwear, rubbing her soaking clit in his bed.

He cleared his throat. “May I?” She nodded. He kneeled in front of her and took her legs in his hands. She wrapped them around his neck and he began to lap at her, fingering her as he did so.

“Oh, god, Eddie, yes.” She didn't know it could feel this good, didn't understand why all the other girls wanted to give up their virginities to their boyfriends on homecoming or prom night. She had never been that interested in boys or sex, mostly dating Jason because of what he could provide for her. They had kissed and gotten to second base, sure, but nothing like this, nothing so wanton and incredible could ever happen with anyone but Eddie. Beautiful, sweet Eddie, who a few days before had been no one to her. She couldn't believe she had ever been with anyone but him, had wasted most of their high school years that could have been spent together. She wanted nothing but him, felt like she could fall in love as he licked deeply into her. He was what she had wanted all her life but had been too blind to see, too caught up in what other people thought. As he grasped her thighs in his hands and pushed his face into her, she felt overcome with love and bliss and relief. She came, nearly sobbing, rubbing herself on his nose and lips and chin and grasping his hair.

He gave her clit one final kiss as he slid up to face her, face soaked and grinning. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she laughed, kissing him, tasting herself on his tongue.

They lay together, kissing and holding each other until Eddie's stomach grumbled.

“You hungry?”

“Must be. I think I forgot to have dinner. You must be hungry too.”

She shrugged. “I could eat.”

“Ok, I'm going to see what I can scrounge up.” He threw his jeans back on and rummaged through his drawer until he found a soft cotton shirt with the Led Zeppelin logo. He turned to her. “Do you want to change? Or...do you need to go? I mean, it's pretty early but I don't want to get you in trouble.”

“I love you.”

He turned to face her, looking puzzled. “What?”

“I love you.” She hugged her knees and looked at him with desperation. “I know it's only been a couple of days, but I really do, Eddie.”

He held the shirt in one hand, still unsure how to respond. “Maybe it's just the post-orgasm hormones. You know, they cause like, feelings of bonding and closeness and all that.”

“Eddie,” she gasped, looking close to tears.

“Ok, sorry.” He climbed back into bed, moving towards her on his knees. “Are you sure?”

“Yes! I've never felt this way about anyone, and everything I learn about you makes me love you more.”

He shimmied closer until his head was laying on her stomach; he stroked the inside of her thigh with his fingers. “I'm not, you know...not anyone to fall in love with. I mean, no one's ever said that to me so I figured I wasn't the falling-in-love with type. It's not like I have-”

“Eddie, please, none of that stuff matters to me. I love you, not the money you might make or the things you might do. I want you in my life, no matter what.”

“So, even if I end up working at the canning factory and selling dope to teenagers and living in a trailer park in Hawkins for the rest of my life, you'll love me?”

He turned to face her, trying to look serious but finding himself getting lost in her blue eyes. No one had ever looked at him that way, like he was worth something. Certainly no one as incredible as her.

She nodded, eyes glistening. He moved his body towards her for a kiss when they heard a sudden banging knock on the trailer door. Instantly, fear shot through Chrissy and she felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach.

“What the fuck?” Eddie asked, looking towards the living room. As the banging continued, Eddie threw on his shirt and made his way to the door. “Hang on a second. Don't move from there, okay?”

She looked up at him, clearly terrified. He shot her a quick grin. “It's probably nothing, Chris. Just someone looking for a fix or something.” He realized too late that it probably wasn't a comforting thought to share with her, but he squared his shoulders and strode towards the door, trying to look imposing.

Chrissy quickly grabbed her underwear and slid them on, knowing with every fiber of her being that it wasn't a junkie or anything else. She wanted to make her body move, to flee out the back door before it was too late, but she was too petrified to do anything but sit, shaking and trying not to sob. Her worst fears were realized when she heard her mother's strident voice echoing through the small living room.

“Where is my daughter, you goddamn delinquent?”

“Whoa, hang on, you can't just come in here and start demanding shit!” Eddie bit back, but it was no use. Chrissy forced herself to move her legs and walk out of the bedroom, where just a few minutes ago she had been in the throes of the greatest happiness of her life. Every muscle felt like it had turned to stone, but she kept going; she couldn't make Eddie face this alone. By the time she got to the living room, her mother, Laura Cunningham, was in Eddie's face, yelling about how she was going to call the cops if he didn't hand her over.

“Chrissy!” her mother shouted upon seeing her walk towards them. “What the hell have you been doing here?”

She knew she must look a sight, with her makeup smeared across her face and hair disheveled. There was really no getting around it; anyone could tell just from seeing her what they'd been up to.

“Mom, I'm...this is Eddie,” she mumbled, gesturing pitifully towards him. “We were...I mean, we kind of-”

Laura held up her hand. “I don't want to hear the details, young lady. Jason told me all about it.”

Chrissy's face scrunched up in disgust and confusion. “Jason?”

“One of his friends on the basketball team saw the two of you in the record shop today, all over each other. You disgust me, you little bitch,” she spat venomously.

Chrissy felt the familiar twisting in her gut that always accompanied her mother's verbal abuse. She glanced at Eddie, who seemed too stunned to speak. She shook her head slightly at him; no good could come from him trying to act the hero and stand up for her.

“Mom, Jason and I broke up today. I didn't love him, alright? He just wasn't right for me.”

“And this is what you choose instead?” She looked Eddie up and down as if he were a particularly disgusting bug in her morning coffee. “Chrissy, I can't believe you'd do something like this. Jason was a good boy, he had-”

“A future?” Chrissy spat back, feeling brave enough to speak for herself for the first time in years. “Mom, that doesn't matter to me. I can take care of myself, I don't need to tie myself to some rich asshole like you did with Dad.”

Laura scoffed. “A rich asshole? My god, what would your father think if he heard you talking about him like that? He has done nothing but try to give you a good life, the life I would have killed for when I was your age.”

“Do you really love him, mom? Did you ever, even for a little bit? Or did you just use him for his money and then make him feel like he was too worthless to get out, the same way you do to me?”

Her mother shook her head, laughing spitefully. “I don't know what this degenerate lowlife has put in your head, Chrissy, but I'm going to set you right. Just like when you were a little girl, remember?”

“You want to hit me again, mom? Go ahead. This time instead of hiding my arms with long sleeves all summer I'll go to the police and put you where you belong,” Chrissy responded calmly. She didn't know where her bravery was coming from; she had never stood up to her mother like this.

“You hit her?” Eddie asked, turning to Chrissy's mother disgustedly. “Your own fucking daughter?”

She turned towards him; even though she was a full foot shorter, she stood imposingly facing him down. “Eddie Munson, do I have that right? Oh, I know all about you, young man. You walk around that school full of innocent kids and terrify them with your Satanic antics, you push drugs on them because they don't know any better. Your parents abandoned you with your white trash uncle a few years ago, right?”

Eddie flushed but said nothing, standing in front of her with his arms crossed. Her mother chuckled spitefully. “I bet they knew what kind of boy you'd grow up to be.” She looked him over once more and suddenly turned to grab at her daughter. Chrissy jumped instinctually away; her mother lunged towards her again and wrapped her hand tightly around her daughter's arm.

“Mom, stop, let go of me!”

Eddie tried to step between them. “Hey, you have no right to do this! Your daughter's eighteen years old, and if she wants to be here-”

Laura turned towards him again, eyes blazing. “Let me explain something to you because clearly you're even stupider than you look. You deal drugs at Hawkins High, right? I bet if I walked around this shabby little shack I could find proof in a matter of minutes. Then I'll call the police and tell them my poor, sweet daughter has been led astray by the local trash, and they'll throw you and your uncle in prison.”

“He's got nothing to do with this! And while you're talking to the cops, lady, you can tell them you forced yourself into my home and tried to kidnap someone!”

She laughed. “Kidnap? This is my daughter, dear. All I'm doing is trying to take her home where she belongs, away from the local scum. And I don't know where you live, because it certainly isn't the real world. You really think the police in this town care about people like you over people like me? We donate to the police fundraiser every year; my husband plays golf with the chief. Who the hell are you to talk to me like that?”

“That's enough, mom.” Chrissy had wrenched herself away from her mother's tight grip and stood with her arms around her waist. “I'm not going to let you talk to him like that anymore.”

Laura smiled smugly. “And what are you going to do about it, Chrissy dear?”

Chrissy looked up at Eddie, trying to convey with her eyes just how sorry she was that she'd brought this on him. Her mother would never let up if she kept fighting; for now, she steeled herself for what she had to do. She walked straight ahead and out the door, looking down at the ground and trying not to let out the wail of pain that was building in her chest. When she got to the door of her mother's car, she gave one last look to Eddie, who was standing in the doorway incredulously. I'm sorry, she mouthed, knowing it would never be enough to make up for what had just happened. Her mother strode towards the car quickly, snapping at her to get in and put her seatbelt on. She got into the car and, as a small act of defiance, pulled her legs up onto the seat and wrapped her arms around her knees. Her mother hated when she put her shoes on her nice, clean car seats, but after the war she had just won, she doubted it would matter.

Eddie stood in the doorway shivering with cold and misery, feeling like his insides were disintegrating. Why had he just stood there and taken all that abuse, why had he let her talk to Chrissy like that? He didn't know if it was the way she'd barged into his home like a raging bull, or the shock of hearing such vitriol from such a small woman. He didn't think anyone could talk to their own child that way; even at their worst, his parents were neglectful and dismissive, not openly hateful like Chrissy's mother. The sound of the car pulling away broke him from his trance; he caught one last look at Chrissy's face before it drove away. She looked worse than miserable; she looked downright numb. A rush of feelings came back to him at once, and he started to chase after the car, not caring that it was already nearly fifty yards ahead of him, not caring about how stupid he must look running after a moving vehicle.

“Chrissy!” he shouted, trying desperately to catch up but knowing it was hopeless. “Wait, please!”

“Good lord, what an idiot,” her mother muttered, seeing him come after them in the rearview mirror. Chrissy turned to look out the back window; by the time she saw him, her mother had sped up and left him choking in a dust cloud. Eddie fell to his knees and pounded the ground, feeling like something irrevocable had just happened. “God!” he growled, sobbing like he hadn't since he was a small boy who couldn't understand why his parents would leave him. Back then, he was powerless to do anything about it, but here... His mind raced with a million things he could have done differently. He'd always thought he was the type to protect and care for the people he loved, but when it came time to prove it, he had just stood and gawked and let it happen. And he did love her; he thought about how she had opened herself to him, had expressed her feelings. Instead of saying it back to her, he had gone on the same old tirade about how inherently worthless he was; now, he wondered if he would ever have a chance to tell her he felt the same.

God, poor Chrissy.

He stood up shakily, dusting himself off and wiping the tears from his face. He wouldn't let it go down like this; she was too wonderful to be locked away with an abusive monster like that. He made his way back to his trailer; as the sun finally set and the cold fully set in, a mantra repeated rhythmically in his head. He hoped that, in some mystical, true-love fashion, it was able to make it's way to Chrissy.

Hold on for just a little longer

I'm coming back for you

Chrissy's father sat in their ornate living room, drinking a glass of top-shelf scotch and watching the evening news. When he heard their front door slam and the sounds of his wife berating their daughter filled the house, he sighed grimly and sunk into his chair, hoping she wouldn't make him a part of this. He didn't think there was anything wrong with their daughter dating someone who wasn't well-off, but his wife had blown a gasket when Jason had turned up at their door earlier, nearly weeping. It's not that I mind her breaking up with me, Mrs. Cunningham, I'm just concerned with the kind of people she seems to be associating with, you understand. He had honestly never liked that kid very much; he was too eager to please, everything he said felt like a facade. He was glad to see that Laura was dragging Chrissy up the stairs and away from where he could hear them; he slid a cigarette out of a pack he kept nearby and put it to his lips.

“Please, mom, you're hurting me!” Laura had a death grip on Chrissy's arm and was quite literally dragging her; she was afraid her shoulder would dislocate if it continued.

“That's enough, Chrissy,” her mother said disdainfully. “I think considering what you just put me through, a little pain is more than warranted.”

Laura opened the door of her daughter's bedroom and nearly threw Chrissy in, slamming the door behind her. Chrissy backed herself into the tight space between her bed and closet, trying to make herself seem small, knowing it wouldn't matter either way. She was at her mother's mercy again, little that she had.

Laura breathed in deeply, looking like she was charging up for an attack. After a moment, she spoke almost softly.

“Do you know how much you've embarrassed me, young lady?”

Chrissy had expected her mother to start shouting again. Her sudden quiet was more terrifying than her earlier rage; it usually meant that much worse was coming. She felt her knees wobble and wanted to collapse then and there but resisted the urge; defeated though she was, she tried to hold on to her one last scrap of strength and dignity.

“Mom, I'm sorry, but Eddie's right. I'm eighteen and you can't keep me locked away in here. I can spend my time with whoever I want, even if you don't like it.”

Laura's eyes flashed with rage. “No, Chrissy, I won't have it. Not a drug dealer. Not trailer park scum like that. We are a respectable family, a pillar of this community. I will not have my daughter associating with the criminal element. I'm not stupid, you know. You were always a good girl. That goddamn delinquent came to you, didn't he? I bet he made you feel special and exciting, maybe he even plied you with liquor or pills or who knows what. He seduced you, and now you've gone and...ruined yourself.”

Chrissy choked a sob. “I'm not ruined, mom, I'm not a goddamn piece of furniture! I went to him, and he befriended me, and I fell in love!”

Her mother strode towards her quickly and hit her across the face with surprising force. “Don't ever say that to me again,” she spat. “You are not leaving this house, you hear me? Not ever again.”

Chrissy laughed, cheek stinging fiercely. “What, you expect me to stay locked up here like a prisoner? I'll call the fucking police and tell them I'm a legal adult and you're keeping me here against my will!”

Laura smiled spitefully. “No, Chrissy, you won't. I had your father install a new lock on this door while you were out whoring around; it only unlocks, from the outside. And your window is bolted shut, see?”

Chrissy whipped her head towards her bedroom window, seeing it had been fitted with a new set of locks. Fear churned in Chrissy's gut, and she felt on the verge of hyperventilating. Was her mother really crazy enough to lock her in this room away from the rest of the world, just because she had spent time with Eddie?

“What...I have school and...what am I supposed to eat? Are you just going to let me starve to death up here?”

“Don't be so dramatic, Chrissy. I'll call your school and tell them you're sick, which you clearly are, at least in that little head of yours. And a few days of not eating will do you good, you look like you've gained ten pounds since I last saw you.”

Now Chrissy was really scared. Her mother was actually serious; she had planned this all out, and her father hadn't said a word against it, had even installed the locks for her. She had always known her mother was capable of cruelty and abuse, but this shocked even her. She looked quickly towards the door; she knew she couldn't make it, but she had to at least try. She bolted for it, ducking away from her mother's clutching grasp. She was almost there, she had her hand on the doorknob; her mother grabbed her suddenly by the shoulder and threw her to the ground.

“That's enough now! You'll get out of here when you learn what's good for you. A couple of weeks will do nicely, I think.”

As Chrissy watched in horror from the floor, her mother strode out of the room quickly and confidently; she heard the deadbolt slide shut and her mother's footsteps stomping away. She sat stunned, unable to make herself move from the spot where she had been violently flung aside. She was trapped like an animal; any hope she'd ever had of getting out of here, of being her own person and spending her life with someone she loved was dashed in a moment. Who knew if her mother would even let her finish high school now, or leave this horrible house ever again?

After a few moments of shock, she began to feel the pain from where her mother had grabbed and thrown her. She clambered onto her feet and dragged herself to her four-poster bed, wincing at her injuries as she lay down gingerly. Sighing, she brushed her hand along the delicate, white canopy curtains surrounding the bed; they had been a gift for her fifteenth birthday. She had begged for weeks for these same curtains in a deep maroon color that she'd seen at the local hardware store; when she opened the box to see they were white instead, she had not been able to hide her disappointment and started crying. After everyone had gone home, she'd had to pay dearly for 'embarrassing' her mother like that.

Chrissy slid her hand into a nearby desk drawer and pulled out a small sewing kit that she used to replace loose threads in her cheerleading uniform. She pushed the tip of a sewing needle into the soft meat of her palm, drawing a bit of blood. She smeared it on the curtain nearest her, leaving a vivid streak behind. There, she thought defiantly, a red fucking curtain. That wasn't so hard, was it, mom?

Eddie knew he had to wait until much later that night, when everyone was sure to be asleep, to get close to Chrissy's neighborhood. If any of the rich snobs living there saw his dark, suspicious-looking van even approach the pristine culdesac, he'd have all of Hawkins measly police force on his ass before he even knew what hit him. Officer, please, there's someone stealing little girls in the dead of night! Eddie glanced at the clock on this desk for the thousandth time; the digital, red letters stared back at him pitilessly: 10:37 PM. He groaned in frustration and was tempted to pick up his beloved guitar just for something to pass the time with, but he didn't want to damage it in his heightened state. Instead, he turned on the clock radio and flipped stations until he found something decent. The area where he lived was a little bit in the middle of nowhere (and Hawkins was already in the middle of nowhere to begin with), so most of the time the radio signal came through grainy and squealing. This time, though, like a beacon, he heard clearly

Been down one time

Been down two time

I'm never going back again

You don't know what it means to win

Come down and see me again

Tears started in Eddie's eyes and he lay down flat on his back, remembering the feeling of being here with Chrissy only a few hours ago. He knew that she didn't want his pity, that she was resilient and strong despite the things she'd lived through. But he couldn't fucking fathom how she could carry on, could go to class and cheerleading practice and play the part like everything was normal when she had something like that waiting at home for her every day. His mind went back to the first communication they'd had; in her note, she had said something about having visions she couldn't control. They had never gotten a chance to talk about what exactly she'd been experiencing, but Eddie guessed it was something like having acid flashbacks.

He'd never been a particularly anxious person, but occasionally when their funds were low enough that having to skip meals for a few days became a real possibility, he'd felt the urge to jump out of his skin buzzing just below the surface and had found it hard to concentrate on anything. Back when the parental abandonment had been a fresh wound, he'd laid awake at night, reliving the last argument he'd had with his father or the most recent cutting remark from his mom. Wondering, deep down, how much of it was his fault. As he got older, he'd come to realize his parents had had their own issues, and that him being caught in the crossfire was just the famous Munson luck of the draw. But he'd had years of distance from all that, and plenty of time to find his own way in the world.

Chrissy was different, though; she was still in the thick of it, and it might take her a long time to get past it, if he was lucky enough to get her out of there. He had no intention of letting her live with her parents any longer; he would get her away, somehow, and beg Wayne with every fiber of his being not to put her out on the street. He had never felt this way about anyone, not by a long shot. He cursed himself again for the cruel words and resentment he'd thrown at her; being around her had touched on an old wound, one that hadn't healed as fully as he'd thought it had. But she had put up with his hurt, had seen him at his worst and most vulnerable, and somehow come out loving him. It didn't seem possible, but maybe he wasn't as unlucky as he'd always thought. The station had switched to smooth jazz and was now playing an old John Coltrane standard. That usually meant people were wrapping it up for the night; the clock showed 11:05.

He sighed as he got up and popped a tight muscle in his back. He didn't know what this would entail, but he figured he should stay limber. Going into rich neighborhoods and sneaking people out wasn't usually in his oeuvre, after all. Chrissy was worth it all, though. She was worth everything he had and then some, he thought as he strode to his van, trying not to let the enormity of what he needed to do intimidate him.

No big deal, Munson, just saving the love of your fucking life from an insane monster who could throw your ass in jail for looking at her wrong.

He hesitated for one more moment, wondering if he was completely nuts, when Chrissy's low voice stole into his brain.

I don't see you running away or abandoning someone who depends on you.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, picturing her singing loudly to Pat Benatar, probably having real fun for the first time in her life. He pictured her piercing eyes looking through him, seeing him the way no one else ever had.

And you're the only one who even cared.

He smiled, feeling his insides churn with anticipation; as he turned the key in the ignition, he hoped that his luck would hold out just a little longer. If not, he could always make his own.

Chrissy awoke with a start; she had dozed off somehow and she saw that a few hours had passed. Her body still ached with injuries, but thankfully her parents seemed to be asleep since she didn't hear any noise from the rest of the house. Her father had probably passed out in a tipsy haze in his comfortable chair downstairs as usual; she wasn't stupid enough to think her parents still slept in the same bed anymore. Thankfully, her mother was already a heavy sleeper, and she usually wore fluffy white earmuffs to bed to block out any 'racket'. Chrissy looked askance at the heavily barred window, wondering if it was possible to just shatter the glass without anyone waking up. She walked up to it, sizing it up, then elbowed it with all her might, throwing her slight body against the glass. It didn't budge, and she dared not try again in case it woke her mother up. She sat on the edge of the bed with her face in her hands, looking for all the world like a princess waiting to be rescued from a tall tower, surrounded by orcs and dragons on all sides. She was so stupid, she thought, to think she could ever save herself. Stupid, weak, mealy-mouthed, obedient little Chrissy. If she couldn't even escape the clutches of her parents how was she ever supposed to find her own way in the world?

She thought of Eddie again, of the way he'd treated her with kindness and grace, had let her into his world enough to see that he was actually amazing. She had never felt so much herself as when she was with him. She wished it had been enough to stop the awful scene he'd witnessed; he'd probably never speak to her again, even if she did manage a way out of here. Who would want to deal with someone whose parents came into their home and insulted and threatened them? She had just stood there and let it happen, hadn't been brave enough to do anything when it mattered. What had she been thinking, trying to break away from her prescribed path in life? She slid off the edge of her bed and sank to the floor, wishing she could sink further and further down until all of it, her parents and Jason and Eddie and her future just washed away and she wasn't anywhere anymore.

An ancient-looking grandfather clock began to strike the hour, it's increasingly loud and distorted ticks reverberating throughout the small room. Chrissy's head whipped up to see it standing suddenly in the middle of her room, and her blood ran cold. Cracks began to appear in the glass of the clock, and hundreds of small spiders began to skitter down the clock body and make their way towards her. Chrissy screamed, jumping onto her bed and backing into a corner. She had seen things like this over the last few weeks, had seen a similar vision in the woods just before meeting Eddie. Deep down somewhere in her mind, she knew it wasn't real, and she tried to tell herself that. Her rational mind quickly fled however, as the spiders quickly moved closer and began to crawl up her legs. She batted them away frantically, still shrieking, certain that her mother would be awoken by the noise and come to her aid, but no help came.

After a few more minutes of smashing the spiders with her bare hands, they mercifully started skittering away from her. Her relief was stymied by the sound of a deep masculine voice, which seemed to echo not only throughout every corner of the room but within her own mind, as if it was coming from somewhere within her.

“Chrissy...” the voice slithered in her ear. “Your suffering is at an end.”

Eddie pulled slowly up to Chrissy's culdesac with his headlights off, barely breathing. He thanked any god who'd listen that his van was painted pitch-black, and that he'd just gotten his squealing brake pads replaced last week. He realized as he crawled closer to the well-manicured house in the darkness that he had absolutely no idea what he'd do when he got there; part of him assumed he would be caught before he could get this far, so he hadn't really planned this whole thing out. He silently pumped his fist in the air in jubilation when he saw a thickly branched oak tree that stood almost as tall as the house, stopping right at the window on the second floor. It was perfect for sneaking Chrissy out, assuming two things: he could jimmy open the window somehow without waking anyone, and that the windowed room was Chrissy's in the first place. It was his best and only chance in any case, so he quietly stepped out of his car and hoped like hell it wasn't the Cunningham's bedroom. He didn't think he could take the sight of the illustrious Mrs. Cunningham in her nightgown at this point.

“No...” Chrissy panted. “Please, let me out of here.”

A human-like being had manifested itself before her eyes, although it was not like any person Chrissy had ever seen. It was an imposingly tall figure with cloudy eyes that bore into her. It's body was made up of a writhing mass of slimy tentacles; it made her nauseous to look directly at the creature. She wanted to weep, to hide under her blankets until it all went away. She wanted to claw her own eyes out so she couldn't see it anymore; it's very presence felt like a lead weight around her heart and mind. She tried to reach deep within herself, to find something that she could use to fight the awful beast. The creature cocked it's head almost curiously; in a flash, it's face became the face of Jason Carver. For a moment, she was relieved, then it sneered menacingly at her.

“Fucking slut,” it hissed. “Knew you were trash from the moment I met you.”

“Stop,” she said, balling her hands into fists at her side. “You don't own me, and I don't owe you anything. You're just a dumb bully whose parents happened to be rich.”

Jason's visage narrowed it's eyes at her, then transformed into one of her cheerleading cohorts in a flash.

“Jesus, Chrissy, you gained so much weight over the summer. You're such a goddamn cow.”

“No!” she said loudly. “You're...just acting judgmental because you're insecure, too. I've seen you puking in the bathroom after lunch, same as me. It doesn't have to be that way anymore.”

Then the creature took the face of her father. “Sweetheart, don't you think you ought to listen to your mother. You know how she gets when someone defies her.”

The creatures voice became low and distorted as it finished, and Chrissy felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She felt like she was running out of time, like she only had so much left in her before she would be consumed.

“P-please Dad, you know that she only treats us this way because you let it happen! I wish you'd left her and taken me with you years ago! All the money in the world isn't worth being beaten down like this!”

Her father's face smiled and morphed into her mother's; Chrissy felt the small light of her courage being snuffed out in a moment.

“Chrissy, dear, I think it's time you listened to your mother for once.” The creature, still wearing her mother's face, began to reach it's hand towards her.

Somewhere, in the small part of her mind that was still in the real world, she felt her feet begin to lift off the floor.

“Goddamn...fucking leaves in my ass, motherfucker!”

Eddie cursed as he clambered up the tree, feeling the cuts and scrapes that would surely be that much more painful when his adrenaline wore off later. He vaguely remembered climbing trees in his younger days, but he had never gotten this high off the ground before; for every move upwards, he felt a swooping in his stomach. He clenched his teeth, determined not to look down; although he would never admit it, particularly not to Chrissy, he was a little bit afraid of heights. He'd had an older second cousin on his mother's side who had fallen off a ladder and fatally broken his neck; he vividly remembered the lecture she had given him about it and had sworn off climbing after that. Yet here he was, up who knew how high in the air, with only a flimsy set of branches to support his weight. He finally made it to the top of the tree, face dirty and hair disheveled; he settled himself onto a relatively sturdy branch and leaned forward, peering through the glass.

Chrissy was in the air.

Chrissy's feet were off the ground and she was floating slowly upwards.

“What the fuck?” he whispered hoarsely. Of all the things he thought he might see within the room, this was not super high on his list. He was stunned for a moment, unsure if what he was seeing was even real. As he sat pondering, she continued to rise into the air with her arms outstretched. He shook himself out of his stupor. Whatever the fuck was happening in there, it needed to be stopped. On instinct, he threw himself against the glass, nearly toppling forward off the branch. He caught himself in time, but the window didn't budge.

“Chrissy!” he shouted, hoping his voice would carry through the glass somehow. “Chrissy, wake up!”

Chrissy, trapped within her mind, stood stone still. The creature had her in his grasp; the tip of his horrific finger was barely an inch away from her transfixed face. She could do nothing but watch helplessly as he moved closer, like a lethal jungle cat striking at just the precise moment. She wanted to close her eyes and let it happen; what difference would it make now? As she faced the last moments of her young life, she tried to picture Eddie's face, to have one last moment of respite before giving into the inevitable. It swam before her eyes before fizzling away; the creature's claw-like hand was poised before her, ready to strike the final blow.

Chrissy, wake up!

She gasped, turning away from the monster. Somehow, through the haze, a small space was carved out, with the image of Eddie's panicked face at her window. She couldn't believe it; he had gotten to her, somehow, and seemed to be trying to break through the glass with brute force. The monster growled with impatience.

“Chrissy!” it rumbled. “You need to come with me now.”

She whipped her head towards the creature, eyes blazing. “Eat shit, asshole.” She gracefully slid under it's outstretched arm and made her way towards the door. It opened with ease, and she ran downstairs, muscular legs pumping wildly.

–

Eddie continued yelling Chrissy's name as loudly as he could. She was still in the air, although her ascent seemed to have slowed to a crawl. He reached into the pocket of his leather jacket; in the immediate shock of seeing Chrissy floating, he had nearly forgotten the sizable hammer he'd thankfully grabbed out of his van's toolbox. He began to hit at the glass, focusing on the top corner where it was most likely to shatter. A dog began barking an alert nearby; he grimaced but pressed on. He honestly didn't care anymore if he got thrown in jail for breaking and entering. This was all so far beyond his experience of reality, the last thing on his mind was the probable consequences once it was over. The glass wobbled dangerously; he gasped in delight and began hammering rapidly. Finally, it shattered, and he cleared as much glass as he could with the hammer, being careful not to send the shards flying towards his face.

He placed his forearms on the bottom of the window frame and heaved himself into the room with as much agility as he could muster. As he slid his body through the empty frame, he fell onto the bedroom floor ungracefully, nearly whacking his head against a corner of Chrissy's plywood nightstand. As he stood and looked fully at Chrissy, still hovering a few feet off the ground in a rigid pose with her toes pointed downwards, he saw that her eyes were clouded white and she looked to be in a deep trance. He cast his mind around frantically, trying to remember what he'd read about catatonia and wishing he'd actually paid attention in his senior psych class. He figured getting her back to solid ground was as good a first step as any to resolving the issue; he grabbed her ankles firmly with both hands and pulled downward as hard as he could.

–

Chrissy made it all the way to her front door before the creature caught up with her. It was locked from the outside, and she jiggled the curved handle frantically to no avail. As she threw herself against the door, screaming with pure panic, it approached her slowly, taking its time like a spider who's already caught dinner in its web.

“That's enough now, Chrissy. You're coming with me.”

“No!” she yelled, projecting her voice outwards like they'd taught her in cheerleading practice. “You're not real, you're in my head! None of this is real!”

“Oh, but I am as real as everything in your life that makes you so unhappy. No one is coming to save you now. This is what you've always wanted.”

“That's not true anymore! I want to live, please!”

In her mind's eye she saw Eddie, hair full of leaves and arms wrapped around her lower half, desperately trying to drag her back to reality, to him. Oh god, I want to live. The creature must have somehow seen what she had; he turned away from her with rage and disgust.

“Enough!” it roared, then reeled back and hit her full force in the stomach with preternatural strength. She sank to the floor, choking and gasping for breath.

Eddie was knocked back in a blast of pure energy; he didn't know where it had come from or what had forced him away from Chrissy, but it was enough to send him reeling. He could hear nothing except a tinny ringing in his ears for a few moments; when he shook his head and regained his senses, she had risen further, well beyond what he could reach even if he had been a star athlete. He felt on the verge of hyperventilating; she was surely going to die, all of this had been for nothing.

“Chrissy, please!” he shouted, not caring who heard. “If you're still in there, don't give up! Whatever the fuck it is keeping you in there, don't let it win! It can't win, this can't be it! I love you, Chrissy! Please come back to me!”

Chrissy sobbed, sitting crumpled on the floor and clutching her stomach. “Please,” she moaned. “I don't want this.”

The creature bent down to face her, looking almost paternal. “But you do, Chrissy. Don't fight this anymore.”

It reached it's grisly hand towards her again without hesitation and poised it to strike.

Don't let it win

I love you

Please come back to me

Chrissy gasped, hearing Eddie's voice coming through clearly, ringing in her ears. He wanted her back, more than anyone ever had. He'd risked his life and freedom to rescue her, and she'd be damned if she let it end this way. She stood up, not caring about the pain in her stomach or the vile creature before her. With sudden sureness, she elbowed the small glass window at the top of her front door and grabbed a shard of glass that had broken off. With a grunt, she sliced at the creature's eyes and face before it could respond. It yelled hoarsely in what she hoped was pain and clawed at it's wounds. She took the opportunity to run, although she didn't know where to yet.

“Eddie!” she yelled. “Eddie, please!”

“Eddie,” she moaned weakly, barely loud enough for him to hear when she was so high above him. “Eddie, please.”

“Chrissy...” he gasped, barely letting himself believe it. “Yes, please, Chrissy, I'm right here! Keep going! You can make it out of there!”

Before her, like clouds parting through the muck and filth around her, she saw Eddie, yelling and leaping, cheering her on. She grinned, moving as fast as she's ever had, thanking her awful coach for making her run all those laps.

“No!” the creature yelled, and the house shook with it's roar. “You can't get away!”

Just before she managed to make her escape, her mother stood before her with her hands outstretched pleadingly. “Chrissy, please, listen to me. I only want what's best for you.”

“Go to hell, you awful bitch!” Chrissy ducked away, jumping gracefully through the small gap with her eyes closed, hoping Eddie would be there to catch her if she fell.

Chrissy gasped as she came back to herself, and her mind flooded with relief. It was short-lived as she realized she was about ten or fifteen feet in the air and was now dropping rapidly. Eddie, with only a half-second to process what was happening, leaped towards the falling girl with his arms outstretched. He caught her by some miracle, and the weight of her plus the force of her fall sent them tumbling to the ground. He tried to shield her head from the hard floor with his hand, hoping like hell that she wasn't concussed. They lay panting for a moment, both bewildered and exhausted. After a while, Chrissy began to giggle with something close to hysteria. Feeling pretty close to losing it himself, he laughed along with her, placing his forehead gently on hers. After their laughter abated, their eyes met and Chrissy gazed deeply at him.

“Hi,” she said a little hoarsely.

“Hi,” he said, kissing her gently and holding her like he never wanted to let go. She sighed into his mouth and asked, “Did you really mean that? When you said you loved me?”

“Of course I did, Chrissy. I was just too up my own ass to say it before, but of course I love you.” He took her delicate hand in his, kissing her wrist like it was the most precious thing he'd ever held. He lay his head on her chest and she carded her fingers through his wild hair. “You've got dirt in your hair, by the way.”

“Mm,” he intoned, listening to her steady heartbeat and feeling like it was the most beautiful sound in the world. “Also, quick question, what the fuck was that? Like, with the floating and shit?”

She giggled again, grasping his upper body in her arms. “Oh, god, where do I start?”

They were interrupted by the sound of a key scrabbling at her bedroom door; it seemed like all the noise had finally woken her parents.

“Oh, fuck, we need to go,” Eddie nearly moaned, grasping her hand and pulling her up.

“No,” she said, turning towards him. “I got this.”

He looked at her wildly, shaking his head. “Please, Chris-”

He was cut off as the door opened; her mother peered in and her face turned paper-white.

“What...dear god, what happened here?”

Chrissy wasn't sure if her mother's shock came from Eddie standing in the middle of the room, or the completely trashed window, or maybe just the fact that Chrissy wasn't cowering before her as usual.

“Mom,” she stepped forward with Eddie's hand in hers. “I'm leaving. Like I said before, I'm an adult and you can't keep me here without my consent. It's called, um...” She looked to Eddie for help.

“False imprisonment?”

“False imprisonment! It's a third-degree felony, and just because you and dad schmooze with the police chief doesn't mean you can lock me in my room for the rest of my life.”

She spoke clearly and with confidence, seeing her mother as she was for the first time. She wasn't a monster or something she couldn't possibly hope to get away from; she was a mean, brutal woman who used her voice to make people afraid, that was all. In her thin robe, with her pale, haggard, face, she looked smaller and more pitiful than ever.

“Chrissy, darling, please...we can talk about this.”

“Let her go, Laura.” Her father approached and stood in the open doorway, assessing the little group in his quiet way. “If she wants to go, she's right, we can't stop her.”

“You...” Chrissy's mother turned to her husband, seething with hatred. “You stay out of this, you piece of-”

“My window!” he shouted suddenly with indignation. “What the hell happened to the window I worked all day on?” He moved towards it unsteadily, looking for all the world like he'd lost something precious to him. Chrissy stifled a laugh; he'd probably be more upset about the shattered glass in the morning than his daughter leaving.

“Who cares about your window, Ted? For Christ's sake-”

“Uh, ma'am? If I may...” Eddie stepped forward haltingly, looking like a novice actor on his first audition. “Chrissy can come stay with me...with us...with my uncle and myself. We don't have much in the way of luxury goods, granted, but it seems like some space would be good for the family dynamic at this point. And sorry about your window, sir.” He nodded towards her father. “Trust me, I wouldn't have wrecked such nice craftsmanship if it wasn't an emergency.”

He looked toward Chrissy, shrugging a little and grinning widely. “And, of course, assuming you want to stay with a couple of lowlife degenerates.”

She smiled, nodding. “I'd love to.”

Her mother sighed, flinging her hands into the air. “This is...don't expect to come crawling back here when you're penniless and knocked up, young lady. I expect this little infatuation will blow over in a few months and you'll be begging to come back.” She strode away, and Chrissy thought she could hear a strangled sob as her mother fled. She could almost feel sorry for her if the aching in her shoulder didn't still hurt so deeply.

“Don't worry, sweetheart,” her father said in a low voice. “You know she'll come around. You can always come home if you need.”

Chrissy wrapped her arm around Eddie's and rested her aching head on his shoulder. “Don't worry, dad. I think I already found it.”

Seven months later

“Come on, Eddie, I don't want to be late!”

“I'm trying, babe, but my hair won't fit under this goddamn stupid grad cap. I can't believe I paid actual money for this thing.”

Chrissy scoffed but soon broke into a smile. “You look great, trust me. And since you're finally leaving Hawkins High after three senior years, you can probably go on stage naked and the principal won't mind.”

Eddie smoothed out his green graduation robe and smirked. “Don't put any ideas in my head, now.”

“What's this about going on naked?” Wayne Munson approached them, wiping down a coffee cup and winking at Chrissy. She smiled; Eddie's uncle had become like a father figure to her, mostly silent and stoic but supportive when it really mattered.

“Oh, you know, just trying to find ways to make this day bearable, pops.”

He laughed gruffly. “What's so unbearable about it? You guys are both graduating, finally, getting out of Hawkins and going off to school together. On scholarship, thank the good lord.”

Eddie sighed, fiddling with his hair nervously. “I don't know, it's just...it's a lot to face. I'm excited, of course, and so is Chrissy, but...we'll have to leave you. And Hellfire. And the band...”

“Now, now...” He set his cup down and placed a hand on both of their shoulders. “None of that. There will always be other bands, and clubs, and even daft old men like me, wherever you go in this life.”

“There's no one like you, Wayne,” Chrissy beamed. “I wanted to thank you again for taking me in. These last few months have been such a relief, honestly. Like I have a real family for the first time.”

“Think nothing of it, my dear. You two are the greatest joy I could ever hope to have. Neither of you could ever, ever be a burden. You hear me?” He looked at both of them meaningfully. “You're going to do great things, both of you. It's been an honor to watch you kids flourish.”

Eddie laughed, wrapping an arm around his uncle's shoulder. “We're not going off to war, old man, just regular old Indiana State.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just take care of each other out there. The world is a wild place for a couple of dreamers. You both know that better than most, I take it.”

“I'll make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble, sir,” Chrissy grinned, taking Eddie's hand in hers.

“Not if I can help it,” Eddie shot back, winking.

“All right, now, go on before you miss the dang ceremony, I'll be right behind you.”

The pair made their way to Eddie's van, Chrissy's arm wrapped tightly around his.

“Hey, I'm not going anywhere, trust me.”

“I know.” She turned to face him, eyes glistening. “I just wanted to say, I'm really proud of you. And you don't have anything to be afraid of. I'm going to be with you every step of the way. After the shit we've been through, college is nothing.”

He grinned, kissing her. “Yeah, when you've faced down a literal fucking demon, intro to statistics doesn't seem too bad.”

She groaned, making her way to the passenger seat. “Speak for yourself, dungeon master.”

Eddie clambered into the driver's seat to see a single red rose placed on his dashboard. Chrissy looked at him slyly. "I always keep my promises, Munson."

"You sure do." He took her chin in his slender fingers, kissing her deeply before tucking the red rose deep within his curls.

"Very cute," Chrissy said, leaning back in her seat.

"It...kind of hurts actually."

She shrugged. "Every rose has it's thorn."

"Just like every night has it's dawn," he crooned back at her.

They sang together, just a little off-key, as they drove into the warm June morning.