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#mary on a cross - diana

kimchikrust · 11 months

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The Same Coin (1.4k)

Following the Racoon City incident, Leon met you in his drill squad. You gave him the cold shoulder from day 1.

"I know your history, Kennedy," you sneer, leaning back on your hip. You're both still in your gear, caked in mud and reeking of sweat, but Leon can't get through his drills when you're not communicating with him.

It took less than a week for him to call you on your pettiness.

"You got real lucky once, and they considered you qualified. Some fucking bullshit." Taking long strides towards him, you shove your helmet into his chest. "You're gonna get yourself, and the rest of my team killed."

You must've felt bad after you shoved past and left him holding your helmet (or you were caught and reprimanded) because your communication skills notably worked for him the following day. You were stern and unforgiving in tone whenever you gave orders, but Leon performed well and kept quiet about your standoffish personality.

A few squad members tried to vouch for your character once the tension became noticeable, but Leon didn't experience any changes until his first assignment.

It all went to shit, but it had nothing to do with your team and everything to do with misinformation about the situation. The original directive was abandoned almost immediately as your squad members got picked off by the hoard of undead monsters.

Leon took a moment to respect your quick adaption and headshot precision once realization settled in through his adrenaline. You looked as familiar as he felt, and within hours of your deployment, only three of you were left. You, him, and Sergeant Hendy.

"Fuck!" You spit angrily, covering your flank as the sergeant was briefly overwhelmed. "Pick it up, Sarge!"

Leon felt the urge to grab the soldier's collar and drag his ass back, but you bark 'Negative, Kennedy." You even go as far as dropping your gun to run for it with Leon in tow – effectively using the sergeant's death to your advantage.

"We could've saved him," he murmured bitterly once the danger was gone and you were waiting for exfil. You had been silent since abandoning Sergeant Hendy, communicating only when necessary and relaying information from the radio.

"He was compromised," you respond, void of emotion and attachment. "It was him or us."

"He wasn't bit-" Leon started to snap back, but you silenced him with a look. An expression mixed with anguish and fear that you tried to cover up with a steely gaze, and Leon could see right through it.

"You can blame me all you want, but I made a call." You turned your head away from him, and he couldn't see your face, but he could hear the lump in your throat. "And I'll have to live with it, but- It could've gone a lot worse if we did anything different."

He earns time off after that mission, accepting a luxurious apartment stationed in D.C. for the time being until his skills are required again.

It's nearing midnight when Leon gets a phone call from an unknown number. He's cautious when he answers. Who would be calling him this late?

"Kennedy. Want to grab a drink?" Leon almost drops his phone when your voice echoes in the receiver.

"You realize how late it is?" He runs his free hand over his face as he glances at the digital clock at his bedside. He could hear your environment in the background and deduced you were already a few drinks in, stretching his legs over the edge of the bed until his feet met cold hardwood.

"Did I wake you up?" You didn't sound apologetic or even curious, like you knew the answer. Leon kept quiet, hoping to move past the question as he threw on jeans and a clean shirt, but he heard you hum in drunken amusement. "Thought so. At a bar on West Marshall. I'll let you know when you get here."

You don't, but it's a pretty dead area, and there's only one bar at the end of the street. It doesn't take Leon much effort to locate you by yourself in the corner, fiddling with a shot glass and a half-empty bottle of rum.

"Kennedy, let me pour you a shot." You're quick to serve a hefty amount, but Leon carefully declines.

"I'll take a whiskey," he tells the bartender while sliding into the seat next to you. He's tempted to stop you when you shrug and toss back the shot like water, but your actions are smooth, and you don't look very drunk. "What's the occasion?" Because there has to be a reason you're getting shitfaced by yourself and randomly calling him up, but Leon's smart enough to keep that insight to himself.

"We're celebrating," you drawl, voice cracking as you shake while pouring your next shot. Leon notes how unfocused your eyes are and the beads of sweat forming along your hairline. "As of today, I am officially a Federal Agent."

You roughly knock your shot against his glass before downing it without flinching. Leon takes his sip, but his eyes never leave your face. He can't read anything.

"This is all I've wanted for ten years." Your voice is wavering, and your eyes are suddenly glossy. A scoff makes your shoulders bounce, and you're a little too loose when you fall forward, but you catch yourself. "All it took was my whole fucking squad."

You tilt the bottle back and take large swigs of rum, and Leon decides to stop you there. His arm reaches out to take your wrist, but your other hand smacks him away.

"I could be blacked out and still kick your ass, Kennedy." You end your statement with a hiccup, followed by giddy-drunk laughter, and Leon chuckles gently at your mood swing.

You're drunk, he confirms to himself, watching you pat your pockets until you locate a worn-out box of cigarettes. You pluck one out before hesitating, warily glancing at Leon. You hold the box out to him in a silent question.

Leon shakes his head.

"Not for me."

"Good for you," he hears you murmur against the stick between your lips. Leon's not sure if you meant for him to hear, but he'll take your verbal hazing over the awkward silence. "Where is my- Fuck, there it is." You pull a lighter out next, and Leon imagines you smoke a lot off-duty.

You take a long drag, looking over the table before dragging an ashtray closer by your fingers.

"I owe you an apology," you say after an apparent moment of hesitation. You tap your cigarette against the tray, interested in watching the ash crumble away. "I've been an asshole."

Leon fails to stifle his laugh, earning a sour side-eye from you. "An understatement."

"I just- I hated you. I worked my ass off my whole career to even be considered for a task force. And the second I get it, they assign a rookie cop with almost no field experience to me."

"Yeah, I wasn't too thrilled about it myself," Leon agrees, taking a swig for solidarity.

"I thought I was getting set up to fail when they assigned you to me," you tell him, suddenly serious. "But I don't think I would've made it out alive if you weren't there. So, thank you. And I'm sorry."

You turn in your chair and hold your hand out to him, and Leon wonders if you're aware of your actions now. He smiles when he takes your hand, and you shake it for good measure.

A spark of interest flickers over your face before you pull away and hold your bottle to him to toast with.

Leon laughs as he satisfies you, bumping the bottom of his glass against yours and taking another sip. He eyes you the whole time, gulping down the last of the bottle with a pained sigh once it's finished.

"There, you drank on it," you point out, and Leon looks at you curiously. "We're settled. Shook on it, then drank."

"That's a thing?" Leon frowns as you bob your head up and down. "No, it's not."

"No, it is," you insist, gently drumming your hands against the counter. "It settles disputes better than knocking the other person's teeth in."

"Oh, really? Who the hell told you that?"

"My grandma."

Leon nodded, grateful he decided to take you up on your offer for a drink. "She sounds like a smart woman."

"Yeah," you hum with a dopey smile, reaching for your pockets and signaling the bartender to pay. "She would have liked to meet you."

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you #resident evil x you #resident evil imagine #mary on a cross - diana #not beta'd

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strong-with-the-sarcasm · 6 months

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Part 12 - it was just for fools

"We were searching for reasons to play by the rules, but we quickly found it was just for fools." -Mary On A Cross by Ghost

Masterlist Part 11

Wonder Woman, with her extensive diplomatic training, was the perfect speaker to bring before the United Nations council.

There was something regal about Diana, something that demanded attention from all genders and ages, her accent smooth and light with eyes hardened with barely concealed anger at what brought her to their door.

The Anti-Ecto Acts.

Diana understood war. There was very little she hadn’t experienced where it concerned the subject, from betrayal to a very personal loss, but now she had another chance to draw from her past.

Prevention of a war.

Only fools would believe a war against the Infinite Realms, the land of the End and death incarnate, that which holds every afterlife for every belief, was winnable.

Every death on humanity’s side, was another solider for the King of the End.

That was yet another point.

The Once and Future Star King, Vanquisher of the Dark, Protector of the Light, Great One…. Was a Protector spirit. The spirit of a child who died wanting to be saved.

Diana sighed, awaiting her fellow heroes in the meeting hall, Black Canary, Superman and Batman (with his ever tiny Robin) were already present. Red Robin was sat with a tablet, reading through a collection of data instead of conversing.

It was almost seven on the dot, the meeting filled with nearly all members of the League, when Constantine portals in with a flask in one hand and a book in the other.

“Not a word.” He grumbles around an unlit cigarette held between his lips, unceremoniously dropping into an unoccupied seat.

Despite the surprise of John Constantine being on time for something, much less a Justice League meeting, Diana had other concerns to deal with.

Namely, the repeal of the Anti-Ecto Acts.

An unexpected summoning was a shard of ice in her spine, twisting like a knife of betrayal in the nerves, utter agony. Jazz had little warning, little time to brace herself before she was hooked behind her navel and yanked.

Thank the Ancients she wasn’t in the shower, because whoever had the audacity to summon the Ghost King was not going to receive an eyeful for their trouble.

Jazz allowed her armor to materialize, a slick sensation of water down her back soothed the lingering pain of the brutal summons, but her back plate soon settled firmly in place and irritated the nerves more so.

Just as her helmet locked into place, sealing her fully into her armor, green smoke announced her arrival with a dramatic flair she couldn’t find humor in.

Rested on one knee, head bowed, the Regent was quite an intimidating sight for the uninitiated.

Her helmet, full coverage with a crown of green shards embedded into its pulsing ebony metal, only allowed the green tint of her eyes to shine through. Once her head lifted, the several shivers her gaze got proved how effective it was at unnerving others.

With a breath, the Regent stood.

“You have tried to summon the King of the End, why?”

John Constantine was many things- a liar, a cheater, a non-believer- but he was certainly not a fool. He’d been against summoning the Ghost King, knowing full well to whom they would be dragging unwilling instead. Somehow the title of Regent failed to comprehend to most present, which was not Constantine’s fault in the slightest.

(Hey, at least he was mostly sober summoning, right?)

(Had to give credit where it’s due.)

Bats was unamused with Constantine’s first warning of ‘Do not fuck with’ when Phantom had first shown himself, but this was ridiculous really. A message was always better than trying to summon the King, who would want to be interrupted right?

Yet again, the Magician was overruled.

(At least he didn’t have to sell his soul this time.)

(The Phantom already gifted the glued together remnants to his Regent.)

(Morbid as it was, at least John knew it was in better hands than some half wit demon he’d scammed.)

No one answered before the Regent spoke with some amusement lacing her words, “I should have known a summon from you, Constantine, would be painful.”

(Was it a good or bad sign that the Regent didn’t immediately call him ‘Sad Trenchcoat man’?)

Diana politely interjected, “Greetings, My Lady. We apologize for the unfortunate experience and will endeavor to do better in future meetings.”

(Good old Diana.)

“Greetings.” The Regent replied, helmeted head slightly tilted as she studied the others present before her, having been ignored for the time being.

Wonder Woman pressed a fist over her heart with a slight bow of her head as she spoke again, “May I introduce the Justice League and it’s founders; Batman, Superman, and myself, Wonder Woman. You are familiar with Constantine, who is a member of Justice Dark.”

“I am the Regent of the Realms, Lady of the Acropolis, you may refer to me as either.” Jazz intoned, serious as was only right for her titles. “I’ll ask once more… Why.”

Constantine, despite the familiarity he held with Phantom, shivered in the presence of the Regent. The owner of his soul could command he turn on his allies, zap away his free will with only a few words. Sure, he had some doubts that the Regent would, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t. The AEA proved that the Infinite Realms had every right to declare war on the Living and its citizens would be drafted to fight in the Legion, regardless of mortality status.

John was many things- a liar, a cheater, a non-believer- but he was not a soldier or a fool.

He would be called to arms, as a magic user and battle-blooded soldier. There would be no choice, no deal he could make that would see his fate change.

It was fortunate that the Regent didn’t want a war, but there was only so much she could do to hold back the growing tide of angry entities that wanted vengeance on parents, siblings, and children taken from them.

(Ancients above and below, he needed a drink.)

It was times like this that brought the Regent back to her long days of training in the Acropolis. The echo of steel against steel, dodging ecto-blasts, deflecting weapons with her bracelets, Pandora’s steady words…

Pandora was many things- Leader of the Acropolis, Guardian of Hope, teacher, advisor, so on and so forth.

Pandora might be a ghost, an Amazon tasked with guarding her box, a Warrior of the ages past, but she was ultimately the Ancient of Peace.

The Peace she never knew in life, war-hardened as she was. Raised with one hand clutching a weapon and the other an open palm, Pandora was a diplomat at heart. War had not been kind to her, but still, she taught her pupil (the Regent) the importance of listening.

Many issues could be solved when one took the time to shut their mouth.

Draw weapon, draw blood.

Aim at nothing you’re not willing to destroy.

If your opponent believes they have the upper hand, break it.

(These are just a few rules of war.)

(She knew them all by heart.)

(Each one ingrained on her body, scars a testament to a faith in her training and herself.)

The only rule Pandora had given her where to concerned Peace was this:

Reach for it, but know that hearts aren’t so easily swayed as minds.

It was why Jasmine never bothered trying to negotiate with the GIW. Their hearts were black and there was no changing their minds.

Here she was, summoned by the Justice League with their own diplomatic trained Amazon at the ready. Pandora would be proud of her sister-in-arms, because despite the Regent’s unknown threat potential Wonder Woman had not reached for the sword at her side. Instead, she’d done a traditional Amazon greeting, from one warrior to another, a sign of respect that Jasmine had not expected to ever receive outside the Acropolis.

“We had expected to summon the King, but were unaware of a Regent, my lady.” Wonder Woman spoke, but Constantine interrupted whatever she would have said next.

“We wanted to discuss the possibility of war against the living, Regent.”

Jasmine snorted, the voice-modulating function of her helmet made it sound funny to her ears, “Blunt as always, Constantine. You’re worried I would order you against your allies?”

The Sad Trenchcoat Man blinked once, twice, “Bloody Hell, you don’t waste time, do ya?”

“You possess the power to command Constantine?”

That question had come from Lady Gotham’s first Knight, steady with no discernible emotion in voice. His hands were resting on his utility belt, which was a bad sign of his current judgment of her character.

“For the sake of honesty, yes, Dark Knight, as the keeper of his Soul Remnants, I could command the Magician to do my bidding.” The Regent continued, “However, it was a gift and Phantom is fond enough of the Sad one that I wouldn’t use it unless I had no other choice.”

“What would constitute ‘no other choice’?”

Huh, Jasmine was starting to understand why Phantom chose Batman to give the Ghost Files too. She could feel the determination and protectiveness radiating off his soul, a familiar (though less powerful) sensation she only got from her little brother.

“War.” The Regent retorted, “I’m beginning to understand why Phantom would choose you, Knight.”

Constantine perked up a bit, “Didn’t you avenge him?”

“Yes.”

Wonder Woman came forward again, “My Lady, we wish to discuss the conditions of Peace between the Living and the Infinite Realms.”

Jasmine smiled a bit sadly, though no one could see it, “I would be honored to.”

If anyone asked, Red Hood did not swoon when he witnessed his future wife girlfriend kick a man straight in the balls so hard he saw God.

Jazz was a beacon during a Gotham night, beautiful red hair seeming to catch fire with every light that danced across it, shoulders back and head held high his girl resumed her steady pace towards her apartment. This was a typical night for them, minus the would-be mugger and Jazz being unaware of the Red Hood following from above to make sure she got home safely.

(Jason hadn’t been able to convince her to carry a gun.)

(Nonetheless, he knew his girl could take care of herself, but that didn’t stop the worry.)

Hood wasn’t convinced about the safety of the area bordering his Alley, The Ridge, with two relatively unknown metas acting as it’s Vigilantes and seeming to drive down the crime rate in the neighborhood to near extinction faster than he’d seized control of his own territory. It was odd that the metas weren’t crossing into the Alley, seeming to go around it and more into Gotham proper when they decided to roam, as if they respected the Red Hood claim more than the other bats.

(Wasn’t that just a hoot.)

(Two non-bats had more respect for him than his own family.)

The Ridge was the lesser known little brother to Crime Alley, with its residents being mostly three-jobs and a drug problem demographic, but with Phantom and Regent the area had begun to show a bit more life. Sure, most of the builds were on the wrong side of dilapidated, hanging on with duct tape and a wad of gum, but when it was just bright out enough- no matter the time of day- Phantom’s ice can be seen glinting from miles around as it curved itself around foundations and floors to stabilize the structures. It hadn’t melted in the slightest the two months since it’s been formed. Hood had even tried to get a sample for testing, but the ice would not budge. Hell, he’d even taken a cheap shot at it- nothing. Well, except for the fact that you could now see a bullet encased within the ice.

Phantom was a chill guy, apparently.

(Hood internally groaned at the unintentional pun.)

(Quick mental note made to shoot Dick in… well, the dick.)

Red Hood had been gritting his teeth against the warm sensations of protect-anxiety-nervous for days, sensing danger every time he closed his eyes. Something had invaded Gotham and was messing with the Pit.

No, not the Pit. The Pit was gone, no longer bubbling in his gut or green edging his vision, it was gone and replaced with something else.

Something that gave him trouble, but was definitely a step up from Pit Madness.

(And what a time for it to vanish, with Jason dating Jazz no more bloody nightmares when she was in his arms.)

He’d followed that ball of anxiety in his chest across Gotham, unconsciously avoiding Bruce’s usual patrol route and he climbed up to one of the gargoyles that kept vigil over the clock tower. Barbie hadn’t opened the comms to ask him what the hell are you doing here, but he wasn’t going to waste what little time he had with Phantom before he had to return to the Alley.

The kid wasn’t older than Tim, but was ethereal in his form that felt cold to Hood. There wasn’t any sign that Phantom had been hurt by the Drs. Fenton, but Hood was all too aware of how looks could be deceiving.

(The fuckers had vivisected him.)

With every word passed between them, had Hood confirming the Ghost Files information to be accurate as far as Phantom was concerned. He was a teenager, a ghost in Gotham who was under the protection of the Regent and Ghost King.

(Though incredibly corrupted, Barbara had been able to find a few frames of clarity.)

(Lo and behold, the death of those bastards.)

(He knew he recognized the armored figure, but couldn’t figure it out.)

(It was right there on the tip of his tongue.)

That same ball of anxiety loosened its hold with Phantom, a sense of protect-worry overwhelmed whatever else was in his chest.

Phantom was a kid, ghost or not, vigilante or not.

(No more dead robins.)

It took two days and twelve hours for Jason to finally connect the dots between Regent and why in Hell he felt he knew the armored knight.

Jazz was in her kitchen, hair braided and swinging back and forth against her back as she hummed and swayed in time with the soft music playing. His girl looked good in his Gotham Knights t-shirt, shorts revealing her toned thighs and legs, neckline of her borrowed shirt riding low enough to reveal several hickies he’d left on her earlier on the couch. Pride warmed his chest as he watched his darling Jazz, love for her settled deep into his bones. He knew she was the one for him, no going back, even if she didn’t know everything about him-Red Hood, his death, etc.

Jazz was made of steel and iron, forged with love and cracked with betrayal. Who had betrayed her in the past was obvious, her parents, their death must’ve been a mixed bag. Not to mention making the decision to allow their souls to be claimed by the Regent of the Infinite Realms.

He had no doubt she would be unafraid of his nighttime persona, but he didn’t think he could handle her judgment of his past sins. He loved her too much and wanted to be good.

The music stopped, dragging Jason out of his thoughts to find Jazz watching him with concern plain on her face.

“Jace?” She lightly called for him, helpless to her he rose and gently wrapped her in his arms, her head tucked comfortably under his chin.

“I’m ok, Jazz, just have a lot on my mind.”

His girl hummed lightly, the sound vibrating slightly through Jason’s chest where her head rested.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“They’re not worth that much.”

Jazz pinched his side in retaliation for his lightly self-demeaning comment, but ultimately let it go. Another reason he loved her, she didn’t tolerate his bullshit. She’d been horrified to hear his comments about his self-worth, as much as he was joking, and had firmly threatened to punt his ass into the sun if he didn’t start getting a better self-image.

To his credit, he listened and began seeing Harley for counseling, which he knew he’d needed when he’d finally gotten a working braincell again after his dip in the line green Kool-aid. He’d put it off long enough, believing that the Pit wouldn’t let him remain calm enough to discuss his abandonment issues and mental health.

The Pit wasn’t churning in his gut anymore so any anger he felt was all Jason’s, and Jason’s alone. It was oddly satisfying to know that he was once again responsible for how he handled his anger.

Jazz never really demanded anything, only insisting on some boundaries at the start of their relationship when it was difficult to keep his hands to himself while she was in his sight. His darling was the same this why she set those boundaries so they could get to know each other without it just devolving into sex.

Sure, they have done some heavy petting and Jason definitely liked leaving his mark on her, but they hadn’t felt compelled to go further. Now that they had been together a little over a month the heat between them settled into a slow summer in his blood, no more threat of them acting like a pair of degenerate dumbasses with lesser brain function.

Not that Jason would ever be against having sex with Jazz, he loved her and wanted to know her in every sense, but he had to confess several things before he could allow himself to be put off guard with his pants down. The big Y-incision scar on his chest was horrific and Jason didn’t want to scare his girl away before he had a chance to come clean. He wanted, no, needed Jazz to accept every part of him- life, death, Jason and Red Hood. He was ready for her to know the truth.

What he wasn’t ready for, like last time, was the bomb.

A/N: Yes, beta read by @meditating-cat! Great beta reader, really appreciate the quick response and notes. Thanks!

We're gonna have a bit of a time jump between the summoning and the cliffhanger, which means that Jazz being summoned happens after. I wrote it this way for a reason... I think. Don't quote me on that.

Anyways, special red tint this time, because I just watched Death in the Family for the first time before writing this part and...I didn't like it. No, I'm not sure why I don't either. Jason is my favorite character for a reason.

Now, if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go read Wayne family adventures to make myself feel better.

Thanks for reading!

PS: 3k words???

#dp x dc #dp x dc au #dpxdc #jazz fenton #dc x dp crossover #regent!jazz #jason todd #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz x jason #cliffhanger #i couldn't resist #*points at jazz* this badass can hold so much angst #*points at Jason* this simp can hold so much angst #Yes beta we live like Jason Todd!#wonder woman #john constantine #constantine may be an idiot but he's not stupid

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shybunnie20 · 11 months

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Bearded Eddie: @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

★Invitation ★My Masterlist

Summary: After nine years of living separate lives and carrying the weight of unresolved emotions, destiny intervenes when you and Eddie unexpectedly cross paths at your high school reunion.

Author's Note: I've been working on this since February and I'm so proud of how it turned out.

1994 AU with no Upside Down. No use of Y/N. Established past relationship. Reader & Eddie are roughly 28 yrs old. POVs are first told separately, refer to the time stamps! Reader is depicted as introverted but it's a minor detail.

Word count: 11.4k

Warnings: MDNI 18+! Substance consumption, mentions of sex, includes swearing.

You’re not sure why you came here tonight, it’s not like high school was particularly memorable for you. Be that as it may, you’ve been feeling homesick lately and you needed an excuse to be in Hawkins. What better way to satiate a craving for nostalgia than to attend the class of 1984’s ten-year reunion?

As you stride through the double doors and enter the gymnasium, you’re taken aback by how dated it looks. Even though the light fixtures and basketball hoops have been replaced, it looks just as it had when you were here last. Judging by the meticulously buffed floor, it’s evident that the basketball team continues to receive the majority of funding.

The glossy court is dotted with circular folding tables that are draped with forest-green plastic runners. Each table has a bundle of balloons that are secured by gold foil weights. The decorations are fairly tacky but you expected nothing less. On the far end of the gym, the makeshift dance floor in front of the DJ booth lacks participation.

At the welcome table, you use the provided Sharpie to sign a sticky name tag. You blow on the wet ink to expedite the drying time because the last thing that you need is a jet-black stain on your favorite top. It feels silly to be wearing a name tag at a reunion but the harsh reality is that the majority of your graduating class doesn’t know your name; very few bothered to learn it in the first place.

While scanning the sparse crowd, your eyes land on a petite woman who is waving you over. You catch up with Mary, your junior-year lab partner. She introduces you to her husband but you swiftly lose interest in the interaction because they’re droning on about how difficult it’s been to get their son into a good preschool.

You hadn’t anticipated feeling this drained from a single conversation. You politely excuse yourself from the mind-numbing chat and scour the room for an available seat. The one that you choose has three people seated on the opposite side and they eye you while you pull out a chair. They look vaguely familiar so you flash them a polite grin. They resume their discussion without further acknowledgment of your company.

In front of you lies a pamphlet with “Go Tigers!” printed across the front in large block letters. Thumbing through the pages, you glance at the various pictures of high-achieving students who have since created prosperous careers for themselves. You look closely at the photos and then search for the individuals in the room, seeking to compare their old appearances to their present ones. It occurs to you how much beauty and fashion trends have changed in the past decade.

Most of the women here have abandoned their Aqua Net and mousse-finished perms. There are multiple pixie cuts, but what stands out the most are the emulations of the choppy and layered “Rachel haircut” from that new show Friends that your pals force you to watch with them.

You push air through your nose when you get a load of the self-appointed queen bee of your class. She’s wearing a gown that is unquestionably inspired by Princess Diana’s revenge dress. She looks ridiculous compared to the sea of casual attire surrounding her. It doesn’t surprise you though, she came from money and she likely married rich too. If anything, it would be out of character for her to be wearing jeans.

The booklet’s various snapshots make you wonder who achieved their goals or started families. Who peaked in high school and hasn't found any purpose in life? Who’s been arrested or fired from their jobs? As you reach the last page, you’re caught off guard by a large hand being placed on your shoulder. It makes you jump in your seat but when you turn to see who it is, the tension is alleviated from your body.

Scott Daley beams at you with his remarkably pearly whites. The five years of braces paid off and he’s obviously gotten professional whitening done. “Is that who I think it is?” He withdraws his hand from your shoulder and takes a half step back.

You’re enlivened as you get to your feet. “No way!” The hug is brief but not awkward. “How have you been?”

His blonde feathered brows arch gleefully at your reaction. “Not too bad,” Scott motions to the seat beside yours. “May I?”

“Yeah, of course!” After returning to your seat, you take notice of his gel-slicked waves and the ironed Polo shirt that clings to his broad shoulders.

Scott angles himself to face you and shamelessly checks you out. “You look phenomenal, truly.”

Warmth spreads across your body because you’re not used to men being so forward with you. Although, this isn’t a stranger. Scott moved into your neighborhood when you were eleven. Your mothers became close friends so naturally you wound up being the best of friends. You didn’t sit next to anyone else on the school bus or at lunch; you were practically attached at the hip.

Scott wasn’t always this handsome. When you met him, he was nerdy and excelled academically. He may have been scrawny but his competitiveness made up for his shortcomings. He was motivated by receiving awards like trophies and plaques. Scott Daley had his eye on the prize, which was attaining a perfect report card and being elected as class president. He had an insatiable hunger for success and that was something you found fascinating.

After you became freshman at Hawkins High, you grew apart. You didn’t have any classes together due to Scott being in advanced courses. As one would expect, you fell into different social groups. Rather, he joined the tennis team and buddied up with the jocks while you faded into the background and kept a low profile. There weren't any hard feelings because you naturally grew apart.

You listen attentively while Scott fills you in on his experiences. He graduated summa cum laude from the University of Notre Dame. This isn’t shocking in the slightest, it’s a very prestigious school and he certainly has the brains to thrive in such a setting. He mentions having invested in a starter company that took off and now he gives entrepreneurial seminars around Indiana. Scott also mentions that he’s divorced with no kids.

It’s a relief to hear that the relationship with his high school sweetheart didn’t work out because you’re in the same boat, minus getting married and divorced. You’re glad that you’re not the only one here who’s companionless. It’s embarrassing to attend get-togethers like these as a single person but you’re feeling less insecure now that you know Scott has already had a failed marriage by the age of 28.

When he begins to gab about the parasailing classes he’s been taking, you gradually zone out. You don’t mean to but you can’t listen to the rambling any longer. Even though you’re visibly on another planet, Scott obliviously continues with how great his life has been. You immediately regret glancing away.

Your lungs are packed to the brim with fine sand and your throat fills like the stem of an hourglass. You didn’t anticipate seeing him.

Eddie looks older, even from a distance. The deeply set lines under his eyes make him look tired but the dark scruff brings an enticing liveliness to his fair complexion. His boyish charm is long gone but he’s a sight for sore eyes nonetheless. Eddie’s charcoal dress shirt is undone four buttons from the neck, revealing the band tee he’s wearing underneath it. An eyebrow and nose piercing is a tricky look to pull off but it suits him. The array of black tattoos that adorn his veiny forearms is on display from his lazily rolled-up sleeves.

His left arm is slung around the shoulders of a dark-haired woman while he converses with two other people. When Eddie flashes his signature smile, your heart is carved from its rightful place in your chest. You’ve tried so hard to forget how much you missed being the reason he beams; back then, he only smiled like that for you. Up until now, you were fully convinced that you’d gotten over him. Yet, being merely fifteen feet away from Eddie causes bitterness to unearth. The resentment was buried but it never decomposed.

The woman can’t possibly be his wife because you vividly recall that Eddie didn’t subscribe to the concept of marriage. It’s not that he thought there was anything wrong with it per se. In the midst of one of his innumerable non-conformist rants, Eddie expressed that neither a ring nor ceremony is necessary to prove your devotion to someone. He made a good point because signing a certificate doesn’t lower the chances of a devastating breakup. Scott can certainly speak to that.

It wasn’t a big deal to you and if anything, you were indifferent toward his take on the topic. You agreed that vowing fidelity doesn’t have to be lavish and elaborate. But there was a small part of you that imagined a special day where you get to feel like a princess. The desire wasn’t all-consuming and by no means something that you strived for. Even so, it stung to know that wasn’t what your future with Eddie was going to look like. All in all, he wasn’t the marriage type and you accepted that.

A pair of binoculars would be awfully useful to check this lady’s finger for a ring, just to be sure. You’re struggling to put a name to the face. Her hair color is modern but her crunchy roller-curled bangs are a blast from the past. That’s the detail that yields the recollection of her identity.

Karie West. You had classes together but you never saw her and Eddie exchange so much as a glance. She was at the bottom of the upper-crust crowd because her family has run the local hardware store for generations. Not exactly brag-worthy but it made her somebody. Eddie and Karie are an odd pairing but maybe his preferences changed. To be fair, she’s pretty and you don’t recall having an issue with her back in the day. She wasn’t anything to write home about but she was nice enough. The real question is, did he raise his standards or did she lower hers?

Is Eddie sweet to her like he was to you? Do they talk about the future like you and Eddie did? He used to insist that you’d join Corroded Coffin on the road when they inevitably made it big. Over the years, you kept an eye on the tabloids at the supermarket to see if his band made their way onto the front covers.

Initially, you arranged to start your lives together after graduation but the plan was squashed. You walked the stage to get your diploma but Eddie didn’t. You stayed in Hawkins for another year and worked odd jobs while you waited for him to finish school. You sacrificed your personal goals to support him but Eddie didn’t graduate in 1985 either.

When it came down to it, you couldn’t bear to continue setting your aspirations aside when Eddie showed no initiative to pursue his diploma. In due course, a letter came in the mail informing you that you’d been awarded a full-ride scholarship to the university of your dreams.

You and Eddie talked about a community college that was three towns over but that wasn’t what you wanted. You knew you wouldn’t reach your full potential if you went that route. There were a lot of things that you wanted for your future and Eddie was one of them. At the time, you assumed that he would be ecstatic to hear the news regarding the incredible opportunity you’d been presented with.

It was a toasty summer evening. and like most days, you were lounging around and basking in the adoration you had for one another. His heavy-lidded mocha eyes studied your face while you snorted at his jokes. On your twin-size bed, Eddie was laying on his back with you nestled comfortably under his arm. He was sharing the ideas that he had for his next tattoo. You drew the concepts he described onto the velvety skin of his forearm with your fingertip. Eddie’s eyes fluttered closed as your featherlight touch painted your interpretations in his mind. At some point, you excused yourself to use the bathroom. Upon your return over a minute later, your heart stopped when you saw the cream-colored paper in his grip. “Are you shitting me?” he boomed with a piercing glare. “You’re fucking leaving?” “Hold on, let me explain-” You stepped forward to capture his free hand but he yanked it away before contact could be made. “I don’t see anything that needs explaining.” Eddie’s eyes had never looked more ablaze. “This school is hundreds of miles away. What happened to our plan?” His nostrils flared and his jaw clenched as he boomed. “God, all you ever do is think about yourself. What about me, you’re just gonna leave me here?” Your red-rimmed eyes conveyed the harm done by the biting tone of his voice. “Why would you say something like that?” The blood in your veins began to boil and your face became feverish. “You don’t need to get so upset. We’re gonna make it work, we’ll talk on the phone every day and you’ll come to visit me during the holidays.” Eddie scoffed and crossed his arms with no regard for the letter being crumpled under his bicep. “You’ve convinced yourself it’ll be that easy, huh? You’ve lost your mind if you think being this far apart will be a piece of cake.” “I need to take this scholarship,” your eyes welled and your voice began to break. The defensiveness withered away with each word that you spoke. “This is a huge opportunity for me.” “I had no clue that you wanted to get outta here so damn bad.” Eddie’s voice dropped to a growl. “You weren’t even gonna tell me, were you?” You bunched the bottom of your shirt into your fist and squeezed so hard that your knuckle cracked. “I was going to but I was afraid of you reacting like this.” Eddie’s frown deepened. “Y’know what? I’ll make this easy for you then.” He crushed the letter into a ball and dropped it at your feet. “Since you’re doing what’s best for you, I’m gonna do what’s best for us.” Eddie stepped around you and stopped in the doorway. “We’re through. So uh- good luck with everything.”

In 103 seconds, the years you’d spent together were thrown to the wayside. You couldn’t wrap your head around how easily he threw in the towel at the mere proposal of attempting long distance. Apparently, you weren’t worth the trouble.

From thereon out, every waking moment was nothing short of hollow. For a week following the event, you stayed near the phone; but when it rang, it wasn’t him. You half-expected Eddie to show up with a teddy bear or a bouquet but he didn’t. Despite not being the one who ended things, the guilt picked at you like a vulture until your bones were clean. You didn’t mean for him to feel like you were putting your career before him.

Leaving the house was a rare occurrence given that you rarely got out of bed. Taking care of yourself wasn’t a priority. You were either eating too much or too little and the same went for your sleep pattern. Everything was in excess or deficit with no in-between. There were so many tear-soaked tissues on the floor around your bed that it looked like a gathering of white doves surrounding your place of blubbering. It was ironic, really. Doves are often seen as a symbol of tranquility and you felt anything but at peace.

Before then, you thought it was cliché when heartbreak was described as losing a part of yourself but you finally understood. Beneath the layers of blankets, you were splayed out as though your mattress was a sidewalk and you’d just plunged from the top floor of a skyscraper. Miraculously, you were alive but the impact left you broken in every way possible.

There were a few times that you picked up the receiver but you stopped yourself before dialing his number. Consequently, no contact was made for the two months leading up to your departure. In the fall of 1986, you left Hawkins and didn’t look back.

Being each other's first love, you and Eddie shared an irreplaceable bond. He was your reference point when it came to matters of the heart. In a world full of options and roads to take, you could’ve been anything but you wanted to be his again.

It took a while but you got back in the saddle. The mediocre dates outnumbered the satisfactory ones. You had a handful of boyfriends but none of the relationships got serious enough for you to meet their folks. You struggled to fully invest yourself even when they were the perfect gentleman who cared about you. They were nice but they weren’t Eddie.

You knew that you’d be okay someday. It took two years for the ball and chain to rust through entirely. While the ache may resurface from time to time, it has dwindled to a dull throbbing. Whenever the pain begins to swell, you remind yourself of how much you’ve achieved on your own. Hell, brushing off the hurt has gotten you this far.

Seeing Eddie canoodle Karie is driving you to question if you ever healed at all. Perhaps you merely fooled yourself into believing that you moved on. By the looks of it, Eddie is fulfilled being with her. You’re curious about what he remembers. Does he know your birthday or the color of your eyes? Has he forgotten the nickname that he called you so frequently that it made your real name sound unfitting?

With a subtle shake of your head, you concentrate on Scott, determined to divert your thoughts away from Eddie. As Scott continues his story of riding Vespas in Italy, you nod and grin, doing your best to feign interest and play it off as though you have been fully engaged this whole time. It’s difficult to fight the urge to sneak another glance at Eddie.

Despite your best efforts, your eyes betray you. They dart back in his direction. His curls, once a beloved characteristic, look soft and shiny. The chocolate coils cascade around his features like the delicate branches of a willow tree. Your mind conjures images of him carefully tending to them with care.

Eddie looks down at Karie and says something to her. In response, she kisses the hand of his that’s dangling off of her shoulder. Eddie and Karie's interaction, their seemingly effortless interaction, twists your guts like a saturated towel being wrung out until it’s bone dry. You wish she’d rip the look of contentment off of his face.

The overwhelming urge to avoid any potential encounter with Eddie intensifies. You don’t know what you’d say to him. As the pain of seeing Eddie persists, you use Scott as a lifeline to anchor yourself in the present. His animated gestures and stories offer an escape from the thoughts that threaten to consume you. He's going on about how your moms are still good friends and they started a book club together. As Scott mentions their current choice of reading material—a steamy romance novel—you can't help but feel a flicker of amusement at the wiggle of his eyebrows.

After your laughter dies down, Scott continues to ramble. His incessant words enter one ear and exit the other without leaving a trace. He’s like a chattering teeth toy that’s been wound up too tightly. You're acutely aware of Eddie’s proximity and it’s like an invisible weight on your chest. The mere thought of him conjures emotions you've been desperately trying to keep at bay. It's a delicate balance between acknowledging his existence and avoiding the sorrow that accompanies it.

The intro of "Heat of the Moment" fills the air, sending a jolt through your body. The song paints the picture of a time when it was your anthem, the soundtrack to your relationship with Eddie. But now it feels like a cruel twist of fate to hear it playing. As the thumping beat reverberates through the speakers and the lyrics echo around the room, it becomes harder to maintain your composure. You can’t remember the last time you heard it but it surely hadn’t hurt this much. In great need of space to collect yourself, you place your hand on top of Scott’s. The touch halts his self-absorbed rambling. “Would you excuse me for a moment?”

Sensing your distress, he looks at you with concern and his self-centered demeanor fades. “Sure thing,” Scott nods before sparking up a conversation with the trio seated across from him.

You weave around clusters of people until you find yourself in a less populated area. The sound of chatter and laughter recede into the background as you approach a short table adorned with generic-looking tiger decorations that are undoubtedly meant for children’s parties. The three-tier stand has been picked over but there are a few remaining cupcakes that have H’s messily piped in orange frosting on top. Across the backside of the table is a tri-fold presentation board with photos taken by the yearbook staff stapled to it. Yet again, you look at the faces of people who didn’t give your existence much thought. While you look closely at the images, you don’t realize that you’re humming along to the song.

The two asshats conversing with Karie are as uninterested in Eddie as he is in them. Rather than actively engaging in the dialogue, he adopts a passive approach by making occasional sounds that mimic agreement. He’s trying to make this experience as painless as possible.

He’s in attendance against his will but he’d rather be here than to have Karie on his case about her feeling humiliated for attending by her lonesome. Unlike her, Eddie doesn't place a great deal of importance on his reputation or what others think of him. It's one aspect of his character that remains unchanged.

Eddie observes the lively scene unfolding before him. He watches as people mingle and sip generic brand punch from disposable cups. His line of sight sweeps the seating arrangements and he does a double take. It feels like an arrow spears his chest and his heart is the bullseye. “Apple,” He breathes out with his mouth narrowly agape. Apple of my eye.

As Eddie looks you over, he takes note of how your appearance looks effortful and your jewelry pairs perfectly with your outfit. The subtle differences that time has brought make him yearn to acquaint himself with them. The dark circles below your eyes defy the light layer of makeup that’s been applied to conceal them. Your hair, styled in a way that accentuates your features, beckons his fingers to play with it.

He marvels at you, his eyes tracing the contours of your form. Eddie knew that you wouldn’t look the same if he saw you again but your mature beauty is throwing him for a loop nevertheless.

You’re talking to someone. He looks familiar but Eddie isn’t sure who he is. Sam? Brett? Who the hell cares, what’s for certain is that this dude is a hunk. His shirt is immaculate, devoid of any wrinkles. His facial hair is precisely trimmed to create a sharp edge along his jaw. Eddie's hand instinctively glides over his scruff and he regrets not touching it up while getting ready.

Judging by the way you’re engaging with him, it’s plain to see that this guy is your boyfriend or maybe even your husband. But since when are you into the athletic type? Obviously, the man is mindful of the food he eats and has a consistent workout routine.

Eddie looks down at his bicep, which rests behind Karie's head, and a wave of insecurity washes over him. He convinces himself that he is not toned enough to meet your preferences. You used to love the slight pudge of his belly but you probably wouldn’t find his physique attractive anymore. Ever the hypocrite, Eddie grits his teeth when your hand grasps the man’s forearm. Your laugh cuts through the noise and sends a pang through Eddie’s core.

He feels selfish for wanting the meathead to kick you to the curb and leave you so heartbroken that you come crawling back to him. Eddie could save the day and treat you well like he always intended. Is this guy keeping you comfortable and ensuring that your needs are met? Does he spoil you with gifts and shower you with affection?

He hates that he hasn’t seen or made you smile like that in so long. He tried to forget how much he missed the little things. He can’t remember the way your perfume smelled but he reminisces about the way it used to fill him with light. It was invigorating to smell, touch, and taste you. You had a way of flooding Eddie’s senses that was borderline addicting. You were oxygen to him and you breathed him back to life when he felt deflated. Throughout the years, Eddie had been holding his breath as he navigated life without you. Finally, seeing you as beautiful as ever, he feels like he can breathe again.

He wonders how you’ve changed. Above all, he hopes that your infectious laugh, with its distinctive snort that he adored, hasn’t gone away. He’s itching to walk over but Eddie finds himself restrained by Karie. He feels a sense of restlessness from how badly he wants to engage with you.

Karie looks up at him and asks a question but he doesn’t comprehend what she says. Eddie clears his throat, “Yeah, that’s true.” He throws in a light chuckle and that sells it. She kisses the top of his hand and he feigns a grin at her affectionate gesture. The sensation of her lips pursed against his hand makes his skin crawl more than it usually does. Eddie imagines that they’re your lips instead. He knows that her gesture is for show. She’s not remotely this lovey-dovey behind closed doors. Karie is portraying the image of a stable relationship for people who could give a shit about her love life.

Eddie believes that you left Hawkins because you didn’t have faith in his third try at graduating. You left because he wasn’t good enough of a reason to stay. The argument you had flipped on the defense mechanism switch in his brain. It was a means of self-preservation and he protected himself in the only way he knew how. While this impulsive act may have prevented you from initiating the breakup somewhere along the line, it didn't diminish the pain of losing you.

When he got back to his trailer shortly after the fight, Eddie tore his bedroom apart to frantically collect any item that had anything to do with you. Within the jumbled mess of hair accessories and mismatching socks were the tangible reminders of your shared attachment—a skull ring you had given him on his previous birthday, folded notes, and Polaroids that were once lovingly taped to his mirror.

Eddie couldn’t bring himself to throw any of it away because it all meant so much to him. He simply couldn't bear to have any reminders of you lingering around. The keepsakes were dumped into a wilted shoebox and stuffed in the far back corner of the hallway closet. By stashing it away, Eddie was shielding himself from the sharp sting of abandonment that he feared would accompany their presence. He hoped that by removing the mementos, he could somehow free himself from the emotional burden that they carried.

Eddie may not have fit the mold of a traditional Prince Charming, but he regarded you as his princess in the imperfect fairytale that you lived in. Truthfully, he was flawed and so was the relationship. Some arguments started over trivial matters such as Eddie chewing with his mouth open after you asked him to stop countless times. There were instances that you reminded him politely but sometimes you were less than patient.

That’s one of your flaws that drove Eddie up the wall. It seemed that no matter what he did, there was a sense of dissatisfaction or criticism. Be that as it may, he accepted that it was part of the exchange. You hated shit that he did and he felt the same way toward your bad habits. No romance is without its trials and tribulations. The various points of conflict proved that love is not smooth sailing at all times. It requires effort, compromise, and understanding from both parties.

Occasionally, you would go to sleep mad at each other. When that was the case, Eddie insisted on saying “I love you” and exchanging a goodnight kiss. It didn’t matter if it was brief, on the cheek, or over the phone. He made certain that you never went to bed without a manifestation of his devotion. These acts of reassurance served as a testament to Eddie's refusal to let negative emotions overshadow the deep affection he held for you. Eddie ensured that you didn't spend the night in your respective bedrooms drowning in tears or overthinking every word that had been said in the heat of the moment. The first and only time he broke that commitment was the day he discovered the acceptance letter.

Despite not handling the situation well, Eddie wasn’t usually immature. He always listened intently when you spoke to him. He nodded and maintained eye contact to make certain that you knew he heard and supported you. One thing Eddie had to learn how to do was to stop giving unsolicited advice. It was a habit that stemmed from his discomfort with unresolved problems. It was challenging for him to refrain from trying to find solutions when handling a situation that seemed potentially fixable. However, Eddie gained awareness of his shortcoming when he realized that you stopped confiding in him about the girls who teased you in PE.

It was a love of such great intensity that many adults struggle to comprehend, let alone handle it if they are fortunate enough to find it.

After the season transitioned from crisp to bitter, Eddie went looking for a new way to keep himself warm. You were the only partner he’d had and he would’ve been content rolling around with you for the rest of his days. But you gave up on him, so he did whatever he had to in order to keep the loneliness away. To the best of his ability, Eddie avoided the memory of you by sidetracking himself with pretty faces. Engulfed in a string of one-night stands, he found himself desperately chasing the elusive feeling he experienced with you.

No rebound was going to help Eddie get over you. He realized that if he was going to live without you, he’d be miserable at best. Engaging in casual encounters did little to alleviate the emptiness within him. Instead, it merely provided a temporary surge of dopamine. This fleeting pleasure offered a brief distraction until he moved on to the next woman and endured yet another night without you.

Your lips left a watermark that couldn’t be washed away with time. Your touch was delicate as if you were scared he would shatter in your palms; but it wasn’t your touch that could break him, it was the loss of it. Eddie has been nothing short of broken since. You hold the key to the vulnerable part of his being. Behind a heart-shaped padlock lies his compassionate, goofy, and gentle side. A side that has remained locked away since you left.

Fortunately, Eddie earned his diploma on his third try after shedding blood, sweat, and tears. Regardless of his initial determination to leave Hawkins following graduation, Eddie didn’t take the leap. He realized that if he left, you would have no way of finding him. Despite the painful way things ended between you, he made a sacrifice, forfeiting the opportunity for a brighter future in the hopes that you might reappear in his life someday.

Sleeping around became tiresome so he reluctantly agreed to go on a blind date with Karie. It would be a stretch to say that he actively chose to continue seeing her. Following their dinner together, Karie became an unabating presence in his life, akin to a persistent house fly buzzing in his ear. She frequently called him, making her pursuit of him abundantly clear. Eddie found himself lacking the motivation to address and shut down her behavior, indifferent to the situation that unfolded.

At first, he was confused by her persistence because what would someone like her want to do with someone like him? She had run through all of the eligible bachelors in Hawkins, only to drive them away with her insufferable behavior, leaving Eddie as her last option. They’ve been on and off for so long that it’s merely routine at this point. He has no desire to try his luck dating other women. No matter how unhappy she makes him, it’s better than being alone. With Karie, the good times are okay at best. She has a tendency to instigate senseless arguments, seemingly for the sheer thrill of drama.

On top of that, the sex isn’t mind-blowing by any means, which hardly makes it worth it. For Eddie, it’s emotionless and strictly physical relief. He couldn’t get invested if he tried because of how controlling she is, inside and outside of the bedroom. When they’re in the car together he doesn’t get to tune the radio to the station that he likes. She dictates his plans and makes sure every moment of his free time is spent with her.

Eddie chose mistreatment over being lonely and longing for the girl he pushed away. Karie is a welcome distraction, albeit a toxic one, from what he really wants. Even if he could only be your pen pal or someone you get coffee with while you visit on occasion, he’d take the chance in a heartbeat. He’s bruised from years worth of kicking himself for letting you go.

Part of Eddie knew that you were unlikely to return to Hawkins, but he couldn't help but hold onto a glimmer of hope. Each year, he would check the phone book and search for any sign of you. It was wishful thinking but he couldn’t let go. On occasion, Eddie asked around town in the hopes of gathering any tidbits concerning your whereabouts or how you were doing. His inquiries yielded no substantial leads or insights that could provide a glimpse into your life.

Eddie wonders how much time passed before you moved on. He can't help but hope that you touched yourself to the thought of him, that you cried into your pillow pretending it was his chest instead. He hopes that hearing your song kept the memories from eroding.

The absence of your light cast a shadow over Eddie's days, leaving him immersed in a perpetual state of darkness. He found himself trapped in a world of thunder and gray skies, where the vibrant colors of life had faded to muted shades. At night, as he lay in bed, Eddie's thoughts would inevitably drift back to the way it felt to hold you in his arms.

It shouldn’t have been goodbye, it certainly didn’t have to be. The discovery of the letter hit Eddie like a punch to the gut. It was a farewell, one that would unfold gradually. He was confronted with the painful truth that people inevitably walk out of his life. It was an inevitable pattern, one he had encountered time and again. Friends had drifted away, relationships had crumbled, and now it seemed you that you too, were going to outgrow him.

As the years went by, Eddie thanked himself for holding onto the shoebox of keepsakes; it was all that he had left to cherish. You were god knows where doing god knows what. The only place Eddie could find you was in his dreams and in that box. The selfishness didn’t falter as the regret heightened. He crossed his fingers for your plans to go up in flames, for you to flunk your classes so that you would have no choice but to move back home. If by chance you did return, he intended to do everything in his power to show you how sorry he was.

Eddie zoned out while a cyclone of feelings tore up his ability to stay present with Karie under his arm. He’s been so caught up in his head that he’s practically vibrating. As if the universe has decided to spare him, “Heat Of The Moment” begins to blare from the speakers. Eddie’s eyes snap to your table but you’re nowhere to be seen. His panicked eyes scan the floor for the pair of legs that never failed to make him drool.

As if luck is on his side tonight, Karie’s voice cuts through the noise. “I need to use the ladies' room.”

“I’ll be here.” Eddie shrugs and watches Karie walk toward the restrooms. He spots you hurrying past a group of people. In this charged atmosphere, surrounded by the whispers of what could have been, Eddie has to make a decision. Is he going to take the leap and risk further heartache or let the moment slip away, forever wondering what might have been? Apparently, Eddie’s feet have a mind of their own because he’s going after you at a moment’s notice.

His scuffed sneakers squeak against the polished floor as he weaves with determination coursing through his veins. Eddie mutters, “Excuse me,” when he bumps into someone but he doesn’t stop moving until he finds you checking out the snack table display. As he steps closer, he gets déjà vu from being drawn to you the same way he was the first time he noticed you.

On a gloomy Friday in September during sophomore year, Eddie was in U.S. history when he was hit with inspiration. Ideas for a campaign flickered in his mind and he needed to capture them before they slipped away. While he scribbled, Eddie momentarily tuned out the ongoing presentation that was being delivered by his classmate. He was fully immersed in the realm of his imagination as he jotted down strategies and visual concepts.

Not long after his pencil hit the paper, Eddie felt a tap on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw Mr. Gatlin standing beside him with disapproval stamped on his face. Eddie tried to explain that he was taking notes for his own project, hoping to avoid any consequences. Mr. Gatlin was unconvinced and wrote him a detention slip.

In the designated classroom for the disciplinary measure were three other students who, like him, were slouched at their desks. Eddie kept himself busy by filling out the form that he needed to submit to start a new club. The blank space on the paper seemed to mock him, taunting his inability to come up with a clever club name. As Eddie's thoughts swirled around, he was abruptly brought back to reality by the sound of your voice softly greeting the teacher. With a lifted gaze, Eddie watched how you interacted with her, offering a respectful salutation instead of presenting a dismissive attitude like the average disgruntled student would.

His eyes traced the contours of your profile while you settled into a desk near the door. He couldn’t recall seeing you around, you seemed detached from any particular social clique. Eddie could tell that you didn't dress to conform or uphold a particular image. There was a refreshing authenticity about you. It was clear to him that you weren't shy. Rather, you preferred to avoid unnecessary attention.

It was as if a dormant part of him had suddenly awakened and the self-consciousness gnawed at him. His hair, which he had been growing out, was at an awkward length as it fell just above his earlobes. He frowned at his reflection in the nearby window, noticing the acne that bespeckled his complexion. He examined his shirt for any visible signs of wear and tear. The insecurities crept in, making him question whether his appearance was enough to catch your eye.

Eddie spent the entire hour utterly captivated by how cute you were. As the teacher announced dismissal and you gathered your belongings, his heart sank. He had the chance to make a move but his nerves got the best of him and he was rooted to his seat. The desire to go after you to introduce himself tugged at him. Eddie was stuck on all the reasons why he shouldn't. What if you didn't want to be approached? What if you had somewhere to be or you weren't interested in getting to know someone new? He berated himself for letting his insecurities hold him back.

That following Monday, Eddie was tardy to fifth-period study hall and when he lifted his eyes from his shuffling feet, his heart leaped in his chest. There you were in the far back corner of the classroom. As it turns out, you’d been in his class the entire semester. The teacher asked Eddie to take a seat. He swore under his breath and smoothed down his frizzy hair while he sauntered over to the available desk beside yours.

Eddie settled and a creak resonated through the otherwise silent classroom. You remained in your own world, engrossed in the act of doodling. He respected the reminder from the teacher to maintain silence, understanding that this was not the opportune time to introduce himself.

He stole glances at your notebook, intrigued by the abstract shapes and lines that decorated the page. They held a certain allure, a reflection of the intricacies of your mind. It was as though he was stepping into your dimension, one where vulnerability and creativity intertwined. Eddie felt a connection with you. He understood that sometimes, amidst the pressures and expectations of daily life, it was important to allow yourself to breathe and simply be. At the end of class, Eddie once again watched you gather your things and leave. Instead of being hard on himself for letting you go once more, he became eager.

The next morning, Eddie got out of bed early to spend more time on his appearance. He aimed to look and smell his best because he was finally going to put himself out there. Bouncing through his day with a spring in his step, Eddie made his way to the classroom. As he settled in the desk next to you, he intentionally made more noise than necessary. He rummaged through his backpack and shuffled the contents but you didn’t pay him any mind.

As Eddie tore a sheet of paper from his notebook, the sound echoed through the classroom, drawing disapproving glances from your classmates. With his slightly chewed-up number two pencil, Eddie wrote a message on the first line. He held his breath as he slid the sheet onto your Trapper Keeper. For a few heart-pounding seconds, everything else seemed to fade into the background. He had yet to exhale, watching as you picked up the note and read Eddie’s messy penmanship.

The furrow in your brow softened. In that instant, the ice that surrounded you began to melt. The brief moment of eye contact felt electrically charged. He swam in the hue of your irises as he looked past your initially withdrawn disposition. When your toothy smile took shape, it tugged on his heart. To him, you were more than just a pretty girl; you welcomed him with open arms, free of repulsion or fear.

The minutes ticked away while the paper was passed between you like a messenger. It was a blank canvas transformed into a heavily graffitied wall. High school had been nothing short of cruel to him so far, so he needed a friend. When the bell rang, Eddie folded the paper and tucked it away into his backpack where it would be safe. From thereon out, a mute dance evolved between the two of you on a daily basis. The restrictions of the no-talking rule seemed inconsequential as you found other ways to communicate, transcending the need for talking.

In times of solitude and introspection, Eddie has sought solace in those pages. Like a worn-out book, he knows them by heart, having reread them countless times. Whenever he opens that shoebox and unfolds those precious notes, he’s transported back to the time when his life was in technicolor. They became more than ink on a page. Each word, each scribble, carried the significance of your history.

It’s quieter by the snack table. The closer Eddie gets to you, the wetter his shirt feels. His palms begin to tremble as the adrenaline in his system kicks up. The sensation feels eerily similar to the pre-show jitters he used to get back in the day when he and his bandmates would take the stage at The Hideout. Eddie takes another step and now he can hear that you're quietly singing along to the song. He can’t stop himself from singing with you.

As his familiar voice reaches your ears, a mix of emotions well up within you, causing a lump to form in your throat. With a quick intake of breath, you turn around and put on a mask of surprise as if you hadn't been staring at him with his girlfriend. “Eddie!”

“Hey, you.” He purrs, casually holding his arms open. He wishes he’d taken a second to rehearse what he was going to open with but there’s no going back now.

At first, you’re rigid when he goes in for a hug. But once his hands find your waist, you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck. Eddie's embrace tightens, lifting you slightly off the ground. Being lifted onto your tippy toes ignites a playful giggle and you bury your face in his silky curls. His chuckle rattles against your chest, the sound creating a soothing vibration that rolls deep within you. You nuzzle up to him as you melt. Being wrapped in each other's arms feels like a balm for the wounds of the past.

Eddie is a little too high to be on his best behavior. Your natural scent evokes a sense of nostalgia and comfort. The fragrance of your perfume adds a layer to the intoxicating mix, its fresh and mature notes entice him. Your bodies feel different pressed together but just like puzzle pieces, they only fit with their corresponding piece. Being chest to chest, your hearts dare to relink.

He guides your feet back to the floor and loosens his grip, splaying his palms flat on the small of your back. When your eyes meet, you feel like you’re anywhere but in the musty gym. You don’t miss the way his gaze flickers down to your lips and you can’t help but do the same.

“Edward,” Karie says loudly, her voice laced with possessiveness as if she’s his mother.

Promptly pulled out of his lustful trance, Eddie releases you and steps back. A rough clearing of his throat breaks the stillness. He turns to face Karie and consciously composes himself by donning an innocent expression, aiming to hide the intensity of what just transpired. “Yeah, babe?” The pet name tastes sour as it rolls off of his tongue.

Karie loops her left arm around his right one and tugs him close. “Who’s this?” She doesn’t blink once while she looks you over from head to toe.

You nearly scoff because you refuse to believe that she doesn’t remember you. The audacity to pretend that she doesn’t know you were his girlfriend for four years. You can see right through her poised and cordial exterior. She’s intimidated because she knows how much you meant to him, and you’re not wrong about that. One day, Karie was being nosey and snooped around Eddie’s trailer while he was outside tinkering under the hood of her car. The desire to uncover any hidden secrets of his past compelled her to dig deeper, disregarding any boundaries of privacy. She came across the stash underneath his bed, nearly camouflaged by dirty clothes and junk food wrappers. The shoebox, once a privately kept capsule of young love, laid open before Karie. She knew exactly what she’d found.

Before Eddie can give a proper introduction, you outstretch your hand to her and do it yourself to see how long she’ll play dumb. You refuse to let Karie's facade deceive you, remaining steadfast in that she’s well aware of the impact you’ve had on his life.

Eddie scratches the back of his neck and stares down at the floor while Karie repeats your name as if it tastes familiar but she can’t quite place it. She’s drawing out her performance but Eddie hasn’t picked up on it in the slightest. He isn’t any good at detecting subtlety. When you were together, he had to be told how you were feeling because he’s “not a mind reader.” Poor thing, he truly thinks that Karie has no idea who you are.

Her burgundy-painted lips curl inauthentically, revealing her somewhat crooked teeth. “Oh! We had algebra together, right?”

You let out a sound that resembles amusement, though the irritability with her bitchiness is evident. “No. American Literature, actually.”

She considers arguing that you’re the one who’s misremembering but Eddie pipes up before she has the chance. “Would either of you ladies like some punch?”

Karie says “No,” without taking her eyes off of you.

From the heat of her stare, the moisture in your mouth has evaporated. You meet Eddie’s gaze and grin warmly. “Sure, I could go for some.”

He leans in and winks, “Want me to spike it?”

You giggle and nod in reply. Eddie shoots you with finger guns and then walks away to the nearby table that houses the beverages. In his absence, it becomes apparent how much he was buffering the tension. It skyrockets and Karie’s glare is unwavering. Regardless of how uncomfortable she’s making you, you offer her pleasantness to glower at. “Well, it looks like you’ve been taking care of yourself.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She snarls while folding her arms across her chest.

Thankfully, Eddie returns with the two cups of fruit punch and he hands them both to you. You hold them steadily as Eddie pulls a small flask from his sneaker. With practiced precision, Eddie adds a dash of the mystery liquor to one of the cups, while the other receives a more generous pour of two shots' worth. Oblivious to Karie's scoff and eye roll, Eddie remains focused on his task, unaware of the disapproval emanating from her.

Eddie takes the stronger cup and taps the lip of it against your own. “Cheers,” He grins before chugging the entirety of the concoction.

You take a small sip and watch as the flushed sunset crawls across Eddie’s neck. As you go to take another sip, Eddie gently lifts the bottom of your cup to encourage you to swig instead. Your eyebrows lift in surprise but you do what he wishes while he smiles goofily at you.

Now that you’ve swallowed enough to really taste it, you can tell that his palette has evolved. The bitter scald sends a shiver down your spine and you squeeze your eyes closed. A cough bubbles from your throat, bringing the earthy pine flavor back up with it. Eddie pats your back through your coughing fit as if it’ll help but he knows it won’t. It’s simply an excuse to touch you.

“Thanks,” You clear your throat. “That’s some strong stuff, pretty different from your Blue Ribbon days.” Back then, Eddie swore that Pabst’s Blue Ribbon Beer was the nectar of the gods and he vowed to drink it to his grave. Eyeballing the remainder of the tainted punch in your cup, you try to think about anything other than how awful the aftertaste is.

“Y’know, that’s forty-five dollar gin you’re choking on.”

Your eyes widen slightly. “Woah, big spender over here.” Without thinking, you poke at his belly, sharing a laugh while the liquor warms both of you at your cores.

Unbeknownst to Eddie, Karie is seething beneath her carefully curated surface. She taps her foot and looks around the room with her arms still crossed. Though she has been listening to your conversation, Karie has chosen not to participate. She perceives herself as being above Eddie's antics. But there's an underlying fear that lingers; she recognizes the depth of the bond that you have with him and she‘s threatened by it.

You’re getting a rise out of her by entertaining his spontaneity and it’s rather satisfying. The steam blowing out of her ears is just below Eddie’s emotional awareness radar. When your eyes meet hers, a nonverbal conversation ensues.

What the fuck is your problem, lady?

I don’t like you and he’s mine, so don’t even think about it.

Meanwhile, Eddie is bobbing his head to the music while the combination of substances takes him up into the clouds. Your focus is brought back to him when he resumes the conversation. “What about you? What’ve you been wetting your whistle with?” He continues to ignore Karie and neglects to include her. “Are you more of a chardonnay or champagne girl?” Eddie’s brows scrunch together. “Wait, what’s the difference?”

You giggle at his genuine puzzlement and it makes his breath quake. There’s something about the way you beam so dazzlingly while he’s making a fool of himself. Except, he saw you smile similarly at your boyfriend. Eddie can feel his temper ignite at the thought alone but that’s not the only source of heat. He’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the pull of your radiance. Yet, he’s aware of the potential burn and consequences that may arise from getting too close.

Karie is tired of watching the spotlight be on you. She nudges Eddie and he grudgingly acknowledges her. “I’m going to go catch up with the Reynen twins.” At last, Karie has given up on doing her best to intimidate you.

“Tell them I say ‘hi,’ I guess.” Eddie’s mouth forms a straight line and he shoves his hands into his front pockets. When he looks back at you, joy returns to his face. Partially due to the buzz overtaking his nerves and because the wicked witch is gone. A silence hangs in the air while he thinks, God, she looks fucking incredible, but he forgets to say anything.

Your eyes land on the familiar necklace peeking out from beneath Eddie's dress shirt. The guitar pick dangles there, a symbol of his lifelong enthusiasm for music. “I’m glad to see you still play.”

Eddie sucks his teeth and flips the guitar pick between his fingers. “Uh- yeah, not so much anymore.”

“What, why not? You used to play every day.”

“I know.” Eddie murmurs, "Just been busy, y'know?" He’s making a feeble attempt to cloak the depth of his emotions. The timeline he recalls was the turning point when his love for playing began to wane.

Not only did Eddie lose his first love but you were his muse as well. After the split, music didn’t feel or sound the same. Sure, he listened to his favorite albums but to this day, playing feels meaningless. He tries picking up his Warlock on occasion but he never gets past strumming a chord before he gets too heavy-hearted and puts it back in its case.

Losing you immediately caused a rift between him and the other members of Corroded Coffin. Their disbandment was swift due to the altered dynamic. There was no passion and he had completely given up. As cold as it was for his bandmates to reciprocate his hostility, he did nothing to preserve his tight-knit friendships with them. Eddie had already lost the most important thing in the world to him and losing his buddies wasn’t going to hurt more than that.

“That’s a shame, you were so talented.” You shift your weight between the balls of your feet with a blend of shock and disappointment on your face. Feeling that this is probably the moment you should walk away, you muster the courage to give parting words. "It's been fun catching up, but I should get going." Your voice carries a tinge of sadness.

“Wait! I was thinking, uh- do you wanna go to The Hideout?” He licks his lips. “Like old times?” Eddie’s chocolate saucers search your eyes while twists the ring below his middle knuckle. “I’d love to hear about what you’ve been up to.” Eddie is terrified that you’re about to slip through his fingers because this is his chance; this is what he’s been waiting for.

You bite the inside of your cheek at his pleading expression. “Are you sure? What’ll the missus think of that?”

Eddie dismisses your concern by blowing a raspberry with his tingling lips. “Pfft, I’m a grown-ass man. I can do whatever I want.”

“I don’t know,” Your mouth goes dry again at the thought of revisiting the watering hole that holds innumerable memories. It becomes impossibly difficult to deny him as his eyes reflect the light.

“C’mon, let me buy you a drink,” He pouts.

You close your eyes and mull it over for a moment. The sound of Eddie anxiously tapping his knuckles together is enough to convince you. “Okay, fine.”

”That’s what I'm talking about!” he pumps his fists but then he pauses. “What about your beau?” Eddie motions to Scott who is still conversing at the table that you were previously sitting at. Buff blondie seems to have forgotten about your return.

You look between Scott and Eddie. “I’m here by myself.”

As much as he tries, Eddie fails to fight the cheek-aching smile that forms. His heart is thrumming so hard that he wouldn’t be able to stop it from bursting through his ribs if it went flying. “My mistake.” Eddie pulls his car keys from his back pocket and spins them around his index finger. “Wanna ride with me?”

Your mouth opens but instead of words, a squeak of agreement is all that comes out. You turn to walk toward the exit and without missing a beat, Eddie instinctively moves to your side, matching your stride as you make your way toward the exit. His smile is so deeply engraved on his face that he’s going to need to ice his cheeks later.

On your way out of The Hideout, Eddie holds the heavy metal door open for you. The clouds had opened up while you were inside and they’ve left the air dense with the scent of fresh rain. It mingles with the aroma of tobacco smoke drifting from the bar's door. In the street, puddles form small mirrors that reflect the pearlescent moon above.

You delved into conversation with ease and traded stories of the lives you’ve led since your last encounter. Tales of success and misfortune spilled forth, weaving your individual journeys into a tapestry of shared experiences. The interaction was a dance of subtlety, an unspoken agreement to move at a pace dictated by each other’s ever-growing willingness to explore. A brush of fingertips here, a gentle touch on the arm there—small gestures laden with hope.

Cars roll through flooded potholes and splash the curb with a wave of pavement fragments. The mist hanging in the air makes the streetlamps and neon signs glow. Eddie leans against the dampened brick and you echo his position, standing shoulder to shoulder. You frown when Eddie pulls a stray cigarette out of his breast pocket and balances it between his lips. “I kinda hoped you’d have quit.”

“I did for the most part.” He mumbles. As Eddie lights his cigarette, a wisp of smoke swirls lazily from the tip, blending with the haze of the earlier downpour. After taking a long drag and smoothly releasing, he looks at you. “I really only smoke when I’ve got a lot on my mind.” On the come down from his weed high, he’s combining nicotine and alcohol to combat the intense feelings of attraction stirring within him. It’s occurring to him that this night is coming to an end.

Eddie looks like he’s battling to stay in the present while actively seeping away. For a moment, you listen to the water drizzling off of the tattered awning and hitting the ground. Music escapes through the door as patrons go in and out of the bar. “So… Karie West, huh? How long have you two-”

“Don’t do that.” Eddie bites off the end of your sentence.

You turn to face him fully. “Don’t do what?”

Eddie huffs and flicks his cigarette. “Don’t bring her up. She’s the last thing I wanna talk about.”

“Okay,” You sigh barely above a whisper and glance away. The sting in your chest shoots to your fingertips at his sharp tone, not unlike the one he used that fateful day.

Eddie takes a shorter drag but holds it this time. He allows it to char the inside of his lungs before exhaling the plume of smoke. The events of the evening are rippling through his mind, the conversations and laughter seamlessly melding with the good memories he’s held onto. “I was gonna propose to you.” He states very matter-of-factly as if that isn’t a huge bomb to drop on you.

“Nu-uh.” You blink rapidly in utter disbelief.

“Yeah huh. I carried the ring box on me for like three weeks.” At this point, he can’t tell what’s what. Either his emotions are so strong that he can’t feel his toes or the booze, nicotine, and traces of weed are causing him to short-circuit. “But then I found out about-” Eddie stops himself, unwilling to relive it out loud. He flicks his cigarette and brings it back to his mouth.

“Wow,” There’s that stabbing sensation in your chest that you know all to well. Tears flood your vision because what could’ve been seems better than the life you wound up living without him. Due to the way you’re dodging his eye contact, he fails to see how glassy your eyes have become. You sniffle, your nose reacting to the drop in temperature and your emotions running high. The weight of disappointment settles heavily as you grapple with his statement. “Did you give it to her instead?”

Eddie tosses his cigarette to the pavement and stomps it out. “Fuck no,” His laughter is accompanied by a shake of his head as he entertains the absurdity of the notion. The very idea of such a fate makes his stomach churn; the mere thought could induce physical sickness. “Not a chance in hell.”

“Then why are you with her?” You wish you hadn’t blurted it out, but if he’s so miserable then why does he stick around? Considering what you went through, you know damn well that Eddie isn’t afraid to leave when something no longer serves him.

He adjusts his back against the wall which causes the change in his wallet to jingle. “It’s complicated.”

Your persistence to know the truth causes the tears to spill over your waterline and drag streaks of mascara down your face. “Do you love her? Is that why?”

Looking into your eyes right now brings him right back to that day and he’s watching you shatter all over again. “Absolutely not.” The insecurity in your tone is obvious enough that Eddie picks up on it. He loses his train of thought in knowing that there must be a reason behind you asking that particular question. Eddie looks down before meeting your gaze again.

“D-Did you love me?” You nibble your bottom lip and watch the way his expression softens. At the time, it felt like he did but with all of the overthinking you’ve done, your view of the past has been distorted.

He can’t tell if he’s breathing right now, you look so beautiful with the streetlight reflections turning your tears into gems. “Did I love you?” Eddie chokes out, “Of course I did. I never stopped.”

Your lips part a sliver as your brain begs for more oxygen to cope. To soothe yourself, you begin picking at your cuticles but you can hardly feel the pinch.

“You were everything to me.” As Eddie steps closer, his scent overtakes you. His hand trembles as he swipes at your dampened cheeks. “I couldn't stop thinking about you,” he whispers, “Every day, every night, you were constantly on my mind.”

You’re frozen in place, fidgeting ceased as you stare back. You gulp at the way his hair flies behind him in the brisk twilight gust. Eddie takes your hands and the heat of his warms your own. A sense of intimacy flows through you, interlacing the past and present. “I thought about you too.” You look down at your joined hands, watching his fingers rekindle their connection with yours after so many years apart.

You trace the lines of his palms with your fingertips. It's as if your hands remember each other, relearning the contours and textures that were once so familiar. Eddie's eyes remain fixed on you, his gaze dripping with tenderness and longing. He guides your hands to rest on his collarbones and you can feel the strength of his body through his shirt. He gently caresses your ribs and slides his hands down to your waist. You respond eagerly by stepping closer and your navels touch.

His bated breaths mirror yours, both of you caught up in how it’s as if the universe has conspired to bring you back together. Eddie can’t bear the distance much longer. He rests his forehead against yours and it creates a bridge between your souls. You share the air, recycling each other’s breaths. The hovering of his lips causes your heart to pound against your ribs. But as his lips draw closer, you find yourself compelled to stop him. “Wait.”

Eddie pulls back ever so slightly to provide space for your voice to be heard. He can tell exactly what you’re thinking. “I don’t want her, I want you.”

You look away, feeling conflicted. Eddie guides your chin back to his and he strokes your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. Meanwhile, his other hand applies comforting pressure to your hip. He studies your face while you lean into his touch. “I need you, Apple. I don’t wanna lose you again.”

His mind begins to race when he’s met with nothing in response, fearing that exposing his heart to you isn’t enough. After his words have soaked in, Eddie notices the shift in your expression, and relief rids him of the fear of being rejected.

“You won’t,” You hum and breathe as deeply as you can.

Both of your eyes fall closed and your lips brush with hesitance. It’s you who caves first; your lips interlock, pillowy soft, and sweet with a boozy burn. The kiss breaks. Both of your chests heave and your eyes remain closed. The briefness has you weak in the knees but your hold on his shoulder has tightened to keep you upright. Eddie tugs you impossibly closer and kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to. He has to make this count.

A groan rumbles in the back of his throat and his nose presses into the plush of your cheek as he deepens the kiss. It’s both a declaration and an apology, conveying everything that should’ve been said a long time ago. Your movements are slow, intentional, and the definition of pure bliss. There’s no rush or urgency, just the desire to savor each other. Your hands find their way to the nape of his neck and your fingers gently entangle themselves where they belong. The nine-year gap between the last kiss and this one evaporates.

When you pull away to catch your breaths, aching smiles overtake your features. On the day of the fight, you saw nothing but indignation in his eyes. And now, all that you see is the promise of forever.

Reblogs are greatly encouraged and appreciated! ♡

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tags: @tlclick73 @nj01

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queerregulusablack · 2 years

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Okay okay okay a PJO Marauders AU

James is a Son of Apollo because ??? who else could father this man. His conception was a kind of a favour to Effie and Monty - bc they were desperate for a child but couldn’t conceive without help, and Artemis elbowed Apollo and was like ‘bitch I can’t do it?’ so he made James for them - and James is very much in the camp of ‘thank you for the demigod stuff, still not my dad’ every time he crosses paths with his father.

Remus is the Son of Diana - Roman version of Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt and the Moon - and she Actually raised him for a little while, but he’s at Camp Half Blood for ~safety reasons~. He stays in the Athena cabin (because Artemis doesn’t have one, virgin goddess and all that) with:

Lily! Daughter of Athena. The Annabeth Chase parallels are too many to list. Can we really blame James for being obsessed with her? No, we cannot.

Peter is a Son of Demeter. He is very aware of how all of his friends are inclined toward chaos and heroics while he Literally Just Wants To Grow His Tomatoes Please. Pray for Peter, he is #suffering.

Sirius and Regulus, when they first arrive at Camp, don’t tell anyone who their parent is - Sirius talks whoever asks in circles until they’re laughing about something else, while Regulus just stares the askers down until they go away - and there’s a lot of discussion and debate, until it eventually - probably courtesy of a not-so-accidental slip of the tongue from Dumbledore - comes out that they’re the Sons of Nyx.

Being sons to the primordial Goddess of Night is complicated, even without all their personal trauma - Nyx was never widely worshipped, but the Blacks have worshipped her for generations, and when the decree went out that the Gods were no longer permitted to raise their own children, she put her sons in the care of Walburga and Orion thinking they’d treasure them. Walburga didn’t react well to figuring out that demigods or not, the children she’d been granted guardianship of were still, y’know, children - and Nyx is one of the only Gods Zeus is actually afraid of, so people knowing is a bit complicated.

Especially with the way many of Zeus’ grandkids rally around Sirius post-revelation, and his best friendship with James - Night and the Sun, how apt - while the kids of the less popular Gods circle Regulus, identifying with the more closed off little brother who takes his heritage a little more seriously and still calls Nyx mother in his prayers.

Extra points:

-In the midst of heroic such and such they all meet the Gods, and Regulus calls Zeus ‘nephew’ to his fucking face and James almost passes out from laughing so hard.

-Mary is a Daughter of Aphrodite; Marlene is a Daughter of Nike, Goddess of Victory; Dorcas is a Daughter of Ares; Pandora is a Daughter of Eris (and Regulus calls her niece, and she calls him uncle right back); Barty is a Son of Hermes: Evan is a Son of Hephaestus.

-James only figures out he’s got a special talent for healing when Remus is hurt by one of the Things That Hunt Him. Would it be cute if it was Starchaser? Yes. But it’s my AU and James Potter would move mountains for his friends.

-Regulus and Lily are gently wary of each other, to start, but quickly grow close, finding solidarity in Younger Sibling Trauma - Petunia is not a demigod, and her jealousy is cruel and sharp-edged - and being some of the only sane people in the whole Camp.

-Pandora is a chaos gremlin. Her mother is so proud.

-Nyx loves her sons. It tore her apart to give them up, and she’s still very angry about it. Regulus’ prayers keep her going. When she finds out what Walburga did to her kids, her revenge is nothing to be scoffed at.

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filmnoirsbian · 1 year

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Hi !! I was wondering if you had any book recs/favorite books? Things that you think of as inspiration or just plain like? Genuinely curious. <3 im in love with your work btw i spent the other day binging your patreon

Some favorites that deeply impacted me from a young age up into teenagedom: the Animorphs series by K. A. Applegate, Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein, Oddly Enough by Bruce Coville, The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Little Sister by Kara Dalkey, The Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia C. Wrede, The Tale of Desperaux by Kate DiCamillo, A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket, The Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander, Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury, the Septimus Heap series by Angie Sage, Piratica by Tanith Lee, the Inkheart series by Cornelia Funke, His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman, Holes by Louis Sachar, The View from Saturday by E. L. Konigsburg, Shizuko's Daughter by Kyoko Mori, The Sea-Wolf by Jack London, Walk Two Moons by Sharon Creech, Criss Cross by Lynne Rae Perkins, Everything on a Waffle by Polly Horvath, Surviving the Applewhites by Stephanie S. Tolan, The Last Book in the Universe by Rodman Philbrick, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle, Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg, The Iliad and Odyssey (allegedly) by Homer, The Táin by many people, Harlem by Walter Dean Myers, Esperanza Rising by Pam Muñoz Ryan, The Wall and the Wing by Laura Ruby, The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkein, The Hainish Cycle by Ursula K. Le Guin, Till We Have Faces by C. S. Lewis, The Ethical Vampire series by Susan Hubbard, The Howl Series by Diana Wynne Jones, the Curseworkers series by Holly Black, The Turn of the Screw by Henry James, Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov, The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater, Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep by Philip K. Dick, Android Karenina by Ben H. Winters, An Autobiography of Red by Anne Carson, Beloved by Toni Morrison, A Stir of Bones by Nina Kiriki Hoffman, the Mistborn series by Brandon Sanderson, Deathless by Catherynne M. Valente, World War Z by Max Brooks, This is Not A Drill by K. A. Holt, Fade to Blue by Sean Beaudoin, Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu, The Moth Diaries by Rachel Klein, Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman, Crush by Richard Siken, Hopscotch by Julio Cortázar, The Hunchback of Notre-Dame by Victor Hugo, Devotions by Mary Oliver, The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

Some favorites read more recently: The Expanse series by James S. A. Corey, Engine Summer by John Crowley, Lovecraft Country by Matt Ruff, The Princess Bride by William Goldman, Heart Berries by Terese Marie Mailhot, My Best Friend's Exorcism by Grady Hendrix, Reprieve by James Han Mattson, House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski, Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn, Kindred by Octavia Butler, Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi, Station Eleven by Emily St. John-Mandel, The Crown Ain't Worth Much by Hanif Abdurraqib, The Refrigerator Monologues by Catherynne M. Valente, Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata, Tender is the Flesh by Augustina Bazterrica, The Girl with All the Gifts by Mike Carey, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson, The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison, She had some horses by Joy Harjo, Bright Dead Things by Ada Limón, The King Must Die by Mary Renault, Books of Blood by Clive Barker, Rosemary's Baby by Ira Levin, Cassandra by Christa Wolfe

Plays: The Oresteia by Aeschylus, Electra by Sophocles, Los Reyes by Julio Cortázar, Angels in America by Tony Kushner, August: Osage County by Tracy Letts, The Bald Soprano by Eugène Ionesco, The Trojan Women by Euripides, Salome by Oscar Wilde, Girl on an Altar by Marina Carr, Fences by August Wilson, The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams, M. Butterfly by David Henry Hwang, Our Town by Thornton Wilder, Sweeney Todd by Christopher Bond

Graphic novels: The Crow by James O'Barr, DMZ by Brian Wood and Riccardo Burchielli, Eternals (2021) by Kieron Gillen and Esad Ribić, Watchmen by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons and John Higgins, My Favorite Thing is Monsters by Emil Ferris, Maus by Art Spiegelman, Tank Girl by Alan Martin and Jamie Hewlett, Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi, Through the Woods by Emily Carroll, Anya's Ghost by Vera Brosgol

#watchmen is difficult to recommend on account of the misogyny but beyond that it really did change my life lol #asks #an open window #book recs #also i know technically eternals isn't a graphic novel it's a comic run directly related to the avengers and such at large BUT #it is sooo so good and u don't really have to know much abt what the avengers losers are up to in order to understand it #i didn't include any other favorite comic runs bc they require other things to be read for context. ur welcome.

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the-dust-jacket · 1 year

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Hello. I've already read the Kingston Cycle, Half a Soul and I'm about to finish the Stariel books. Do you have more recommendations? Thank you in advance.

Oh absolutely!

A Matter of Magic, by Patricia C. Wrede (for cross-country Regency romps, rogues, magicians, spies, and Ladies of Quality)

A Marvellous Light, by Freya Marske (for murder and mystery and secret Edwardian wizardry, romance, grand old houses and creepy curses)

Spellbound, by Allie Therin (for forbidden love, found family, and frightening magic in 1920s New York)

Shades of Milk and Honey, by Mary Robinette Kowal (for frothy and impeccably evocative Regency magic)

Sorcerer to the Crown, by Zen Cho (for schemes both magical and mundane and the world of fairy crossing into the world of the tonne)

To Say Nothing of the Dog, by Connie Willis (for laugh-out-loud time travel shenanigans and questionable Victorian aesthetic choices)

Soulless, by Gail Carriger (for vampire assassins, werewolf aristocrats, interrupted tea time, and other terrible inconveniences which may beset a young lady)

A little darker:

The Magpie Lord, by KJ Charles (for semi-secret magical society, creepy family estate, steamy romance all in an Extremely Victorian Gothic setting)

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, by Susanna Clarke (clever and deeply atmospheric tour of a magical 19th century England, but definitely not romance)

Salt Magic, Skin Magic, by Lee Welch (for curses and magical bonds and frightening fairies)

Widdershins, by Jordan L Hawk (for Gilded Age mystery and romance featuring Lovecraftian horror and humor)

More fantasy:

Uprooted, by Naomi Novik (for fairytale magic and whimsy, adventure and romance and creepy trees)

Seducing the Sorcerer, by Lee Welch (for wizard fashion, romance and humor and whimsical magic)

Stardust, by Neil Gaiman (for wild romps in the fairyland next door, alternately humorous and haunting)

More historical:

The Gentle Art of Fortune Hunting by KJ Charles (for saucy Regency romance and determined social scheming)

Cold Comfort Farm by Stella Gibbons (for dry humor, wacky hijinx, and extended family shenanigans)

Hither Page or The Missing Page by Cat Sebastian (village and manor house mysteries respectively, featuring lots of queer romance and found family with a dash of jaded post-war espionage)

I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith (for yearning and laughs and first love and an eccentric family living in an increasingly run down castle)

A little farther from the brief, but might be worth checking out On Vibes:

The Left Handed Booksellers of London, by Garth Nix

The Chronicles of Chrestomanci, by Diana Wynne Jones

His Majesty's Dragon, by Naomi Novik (more Regency fantasy, but full on Age of Sail adventure rather than comedy of manners, romance, or secret magic)

Among Others, by Jo Walton

Arabella of Mars, by David D. Levine

A Natural History of Dragons, by Marie Brennan

It also sounds like a Georgette Heyer or Jeeves and Wooster binge would be really fun right now!

#ask a bookseller #love that? read this!

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the-forest-library · 19 days

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24 in 2024

Crossed quite a few of these off in the last couple months. Unfortunately two DNFs, but that's life. Standouts of the list so far are Emily Wilde and The Bookseller at the End of the World.

Northanger Abbey – Jane Austen

TBD – Willa Cather (O Pioneers! or My Antonia – accepting recommendations)

TBD Discworld Book 1 – Terry Pratchett (likely a City Watch novel)

The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents – Terry Pratchett

The Silver Chair – C.S. Lewis

The Horse and His Boy – C.S. Lewis

A Knot in the Grain – Robin McKinley (currently reading)

The Magicians of Caprona – Diana Wynne Jones

First Rider’s Call – Kirsten Britain (DNF - the half of it that I read was the longest book of my entire life. So slow.)

All the Hidden Paths – Foz Meadows

One Night in Hartswood – Emma Denny

The Mystery Guest – Nita Prose

Starling House – Alix E. Harrow (DNF - couldn't get into it.)

The Bookseller at the End of the World – Ruth Shaw (buddy read with @lilymaidofgallifrey)

Mislaid in Parts Half Known – Seanan McGuire (January 9)

Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands – Heather Fawcett (January 16)

The Getaway List – Emma Lord (January 23)

Finlay Donovan Rolls the Dice – Elle Cosimano (March 5)

Funny Story – Emily Henry (April 23)

She Hulk, Vol 4 – Rainbow Rowell (April 30)

The Grandest Game – Jennifer Lynn Barnes (July 30)

Last Seen Online – Lauren James (August 1)

The Pairing – Casey McQuiston (August 6)

My Salty Mary - Cynthia Hand, Brodi Ashton, Jodi Meadows (August 20)

#24 in 2024 #reading challenge #books #booklr #reading #bookish #bibliophile #tflo

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call-me-maggie13 · 1 year

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Ava bounces Diana on her hip as the doorbell chimes through the apartment. It’s nicer than hers, cleaner about the outside, and she can’t help but feel self-conscious of her own apartment that is falling apart — paint peeling off the side and overrun with mice.

Beatrice swings the door open with a grin and ushers them in, taking Diana from Ava as the crosses the threshold and tossing her playfully in the air before catching her and squeezing her against her chest. Diana squeals and smooshes her hands over Beatrice’s cheeks. Ava isn’t sure what Beatrice has planned for their meal, but the smell of freshly baked bread wraps around her like a warm blanket.

Ava stands awkwardly in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot until Beatrice finally greets her, her grin wide and bright. She leaves her shoes where Beatrice tells her and follows her through the tour, watching her gesturing through the living area and the bathrooms, vaguely mentioning bedrooms down a narrowly lit hallway before leading them to the dining area. The table is set for a larger group than Ava had been expecting, the thought momentarily squeezing her chest and spinning the room about in her head.

Beatrice rests her palm against Ava’s bicep, squeezing it gently and she realizes Beatrice has been speaking the entire time. She shakes her head and blinks.

"Sorry, guess I’m more nervous than I thought." Beatrice smiles softly at her, brushing a lock of hair behind Ava’s ear.

"Don’t be. They’re nice, I promise." Ava knows she’s being genuine and she fights the urge to tuck her nose into the crook of Beatrice’s neck.

Beatrice excuses herself to check on the meal and Ava uses the time to wander around the apartment. It’s obnoxiously clean, the only signs it’s lived in are the shoes by the door and the pictures on the walls. She’s not sure why it surprises her, as if she’d expected Beatrice to be a pretentious-art-on-the-walls type, not family-portraits-and-photo-booth-strips type. She hadn’t thought of what Beatrice’s apartment would look like before being invited tonight.

Nevertheless, pictures of Beatrice missing teeth and wearing braces, pigtailed and doing cartwheels, flipping off the camera and sticking her tongue out at whoever is behind it. It is never anything Ava would’ve expected Beatrice to display proudly on her walls.

She’s admiring a collage of a young Beatrice and a brunette girl who looks a few years older than her. In the picture in the center, they’re cuddled together, asleep in what appears to be a blanket fort, Beatrice couldn’t be more than fourteen in the picture. There’s a set of photo strips where they’re making silly faces at the camera. Beatrice asleep in the backseat of a car while the older girl draws a mustache on her. Dancing in the rain, faces alight with something no storm could drown. Beatrice offering a peace sign and sticking her tongue out at the camera while she holds the brunette’s hair back while she pukes into a bush, both free of any inhibition.

"That’s Shannon," Beatrice’s eyes shine when she looks at the collage, glancing it over and laughing when she sees the one Ava had just been looking at. "That’s from her twenty-first birthday. She got so drunk, she spent at least twenty minutes throwing up in that bush, she could barely stand upright. I made her hang her head out the car like a dog while I drove because I didn’t want to clean her vomit out of my seats.

I completely forgot about it until Mary printed the pictures out. It’s probably one of my favorite photos."

"She seems like a lot of fun."

"She is. She’s also the biggest pain in my ass," Beatrice laughs. "Sometimes I don’t know why I keep her around, but I don’t know where I’d be without her."

"Question."

"Answer."

Ava chuckles, turning to face Beatrice. She looks easy, calm and relaxed, at ease. It tugs Ava’s heartstrings.

"So you were born and raised in Europe, correct?"

"My parents are diplomats in Europe, yes."

"So if you were in Europe and Shannon was here, how did you meet?"

"A pen pal program my parents made me sign up for when I was seven. Shannon was nine, maybe ten at the time. We wrote each other every day for two years before we ever spoke, then she and her mom flew up for, what is it called? Spring break?"

"So how did you end up moving in with them?"

"I’m almost certain my parents arranged it. I never asked, I don’t think I want to know what Shannon's family had to sacrifice for me."

"Why would…"

Ava loses the words in her throat when Beatrice tunes in to Diana in Ava’s arms. She strokes her hair and listens intently to her nonsensical babbling. Beatrice nods when Diana pauses, urging her to continue and laughing when Diana laughs.

Ava isn’t sure why she’s crying, why there’s a sudden lightness in her chest that is suffocating, why she wants to store this single interaction in a jar for the rest of her life. Beatrice glances up at her midway through her conversation with Diana, her shining eyes hiding behind scrunched eyebrows until Ava offers her hand. Beatrice smiles as Ava intwines their fingers, squeezing them three times and hoping Beatrice knows what she can’t say.

Two hours later, Shannon is squishing Diana’s cheeks and grinning when it earns her a delighted squeal. Diana sticks her hands out to Lilith, making a grabbing motion until Shannon shifts her onto Lilith’s lap.

"I don’t want the sticky gremlin," Lilith grumbles, though she wraps her arms around Diana and relaxes when Diana drops her head against her chest and yawns. Beatrice passes her Diana’s blanket and Lilith feigns annoyance as she tenderly tucks it around Diana, brushing the baby hairs out of her face before returning to pretending she dislikes the affection.

"Watch this," Camila whispers as she leans between Ava and Beatrice before rounding the table and holding her hands out to Lilith, silently asking for Diana.

"No." Lilith shifts away, furrowing her eyebrows and frowning deeply. “My sticky gremlin."

Camila’s smile lights up the room, looking from Lilith to Ava with a triumphant laugh.

Ava turns to Beatrice and finds her already watching her with a soft smile. Ava is a young and fairly healthy woman, but Beatrice looking at her like that is going to give her a heart attack. She’s not sure who moves first, but their hands find each other and Ava never wants to let go, Beatrice’s hand tethers her to this moment — reminds her life can be this good.

Find more here.

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adarafaelbarba · 9 months

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What would happen if their mate died/was killed:

Not including Ysabeau, Miriam and Fernando as they’ve already lost their mate ❤️ but I’m including ocs for Baldwin, Gallowglass and Hancock 🥰

Matthew: He would let the world burn to find whoever killed Diana. And he’d make it hurt, getting his revenge. There’s nowhere her killer can hide. Even if the death was accidental. Matthew wouldn’t care, all he’d care about would be to find and end the person, his blood rage taking over his entire mind, fogging any sort of consciousness or better judgement. And at the end he might want to join her.

Diana: If Matthew was killed, you’d better pray you can fight Diana. Seeing what she did to Benjamin, she wouldn’t spare you, whether or not she’ll make it hurt depends though. You might get lucky and she’ll just kill you, like with Benjamin—or she’ll drag it out.

Baldwin: There’s no place on heaven or earth in which you’ll be saved. This man is skilled in killing, and in strategizing said killing. He will kill first and grieve second.

Nora (oc): If you wonder how Philippe suffered, you should stay away from Baldwin as long as Nora is in his life. Should he die, you’d wish your own end would come swiftly. She will make it hurt, but wouldn’t kill you, just break you, bit by bit, until there’s nothing left.

Delphie (oc): She will call on Zeus, Hades and any God or Goddess who would listen, begging for Baldwin to be returned. When that doesn’t work, she’ll want revenge. And it will be painful for the ones at fault. At the end they would want it to just be over with.

Minerva (oc): She’s lost a husband before. But loosing Baldwin might be what actually kills her. She wouldn’t be able to go through the loss again. Whether it was back in their own time, or during present times, she would follow him into death without a second thought.

Gallowglass: This man might be a big teddy bear, but should you cross him, you’d better be good at hiding. And if you kill his mate — Oh BOI! This man never really gets mad, but he will quickly let his anger take control, and kill you in an instant, no hesitation.

Lyra (Julie’s oc): She wouldn’t be able to process it, the grief hitting her harder than either of her parent’s death (might have to do with her parents death being self-inflicted, even if they were accidental). If Gallowglass gets killed, she would never recover, bringing the grief with her to the grave. No flowers will ever grow again from her magic, depending on her strength, she might even stop practicing magic all together.

Catriona (oc): She would be inconsolable, turning to her dad and Fernando for support and guidance, unsure what to do, wishing she could get him back. She’ll hit the depressed part of grief pretty fast, and has to get help doing the most basic things.

Marcus: Our token healer would switch to a cold blooded killer should his mate get killed. He definitely protects those he loves, to the very end. Don’t cross him. He knows ways to kill and make it look like an accident, a suicide or in some cases, the body will never be found, just a note stating said person had run away to be with someone.

Phoebe: If it’s human!Phoebe, she’d bargain, trying to sacrifice herself so he could live. If it’s vampire!Phoebe, specifically newly turned Phoebe, you should be careful, she’ll drain you before you can stop to think.

Hancock: Like Gallowglass, Davy is a gentle giant, but cross him and it would be the last thing you do. If you kill his mate he’ll let you bleed, feeding, stopping, feeding again, to drag it out until you die from blood loss.

Annie (kinda oc): She’ll go through all five stages of grief. Not sure what to do to change the outcome. She wants justice, sure, but doesn’t think it’s right to sink to the killer’s level by killing them. Someone else would probably do the killing in her honor.

Valeria (oc): She’s not nicknamed the Bloody Mary of Barbados for no reason. Wrong her and you’ll be dead within hours, and that’s a promise. You think her maker was bad, Val learnt from the worst, watching the ways Louisa made others suffer. She’ll make it painful, and dragged out.

Patience (kinda oc): Patience definitely does not live up to her name. If you cross her she will not be patience with you. She’ll have your head and/or blood before you have a second to think. She might not have blood rage, but she does have some underlying anger issues that would have come both from her father’s years of abuse while they was human, and from watching her family suffer after Matthew and Juliette killed most of her nieces and nephews. Kill her mate, and you’ll be 6ft below in no time.

Ransome: This man might look calm, and scarily so. He’s already lost so much from his grandfather and Juliette paying New Orleans a visit. So should you take out his mate/life partner, you better write your will and get your affairs in order, because judgement day is close.

Jaqueline (kinda oc): She’s a kind, soft spirit. That being said, she’s got a unique gift only a limited amount of vampires have, that and a very close friendship to some of the strongest witches and vampires in New Orleans. Jackie might not be the one to kill the ones who killed her mate, but if you cross her, you’d wish she was the one delivering the blow.

Benoit (Julie’s oc): Ben is very much his father’s son. Born, raised and reborn a soldier, he’s a skilled fighter and killer. Should you have the misfortune of killing his mate, you might find yourself in an old, abandoned castle real fast, with some medieval torture methods waiting for you. Like Baldwin, Benoit will kill you first and then grieve second, heck, even join her in death if he can.

Amelia (Julie’s oc): Amelia has a heart of gold, she would never hurt anyone. She’d go through the five stages of grief, but instead of acceptance, she’d join her mate in the afterlife, knowing without him there’s no sense in going on with life. He’s her whole world, and as she can’t avenge his death, she’ll join him instead. That being said though, if she looses her mate you better run—Miyako is not as forgiving as her sister-in-law.

Verin: It’s inevitable that he will die. Ernst isn’t exactly getting younger. But should his death be unexpected, or rushed…if Ernst is robbed of his end, Verin will tear the person who did it into pieces.

Ernst: He thinks the world of his never aging wife. Should she meet the end, especially in his old age, he wouldn’t be far behind in joining her. The grief would be too hard on his heart, after all he’s loved her for years.

Pierre: His heart would simply break, shattering into a milion pieces. In simple terms, his life would be over, he’d leave Sept Tours, and the de Clermont family, unsure of what to do with himself. Pierre loves with his entire being. He thinks the world of his mate, and without her, to him life has no more meaning. He wouldn’t get revenge though, that would be all Gallowglass and Jack’s doing. His «sons» would do it for him knowing he wouldn’t hurt anyone (unless for feeding) because it’s not what his wife would’ve wanted.

Hyacinth: Being a somewhat «public» figure, Hyacinth know’s she can’t kill his killer, not that she would’ve know how to. She would lock herself away, grieving until she had no more tears to spill, and then she would just lay there, wasting away until she can be with her love again. Like with Pierre, someone else would get revenge for her, but would make sure it wouldn’t come back to hurt her or her family’s reputation. It would either be Jack and Gallowglass or Matthew, heck even Francoise, the older woman adores Hyacinth.

~~~

Tagging:

@plaidbooks @xoxabs88xox @beatrice-san @adowbaldwin @butternuggets-blog @rozalynfrozen

Wanna be on the tag list? Fill out this form to be part of the team 🥰

#my headcanons #a discovery of witches #adow #baldwin de clermont #matthew de clermont #diana bishop #marcus whitmore #gallowglass de clermont #verin de clermont #ransome fayrweather #adow ocs #a discovery of witches ocs

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princesselisabethofhesse · 9 months

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1902

Letter excerpt from Grand Duchess Maria Alexandrovna to Princess Marie of Romania

Nice, 1 February 1902

To our intense regret, Ernie has suddenly expressed the wish of seeing his daughter now, as he felt so lonely. I think, it must have been put into his head by his sisters. Ducky could not refuse it, so has to let her go to Darmstadt for a few weeks. It is deplorable, I cannot say otherwise, as the little one was admirably settled at her lessons and getting into good ways. Besides she is like a little ray of sun in our existence. And then they will turn her head there now and make and endless fuss and amuse her in every way, so as to make her feel the difference of the very simple life here. Also Wilson (Elisabeth's nanny) is simply blown up with importance now! Well, well, it could not be helped this time, but later on she only must go to Darmstadt during her holidays, Ducky has every right to settle it, after the conditions of the divorce.

I cannot say that Ernie's sisters are any longer kind to her: this intensely deplorable story with Kyrill and his endless stay here has completely spoilt and forever, the first good dispositions. I explained it clearly to Ducky, as at first she was inclined to rage about it. But now she has to bear her cross in greater humility and begins to see, how wrong it was to have had this interview with Kyrill here. She lost all her moral advantages. (...) What Ducky wants is a nice, honest, even jolly fellow, with life in him and every manly quality, which she missed so in Ernie and would never find in Kyrill. Ernie had at least bonhomie, Kyrill lacks it completely and is dull besides.

source: My dear Mama by Diana Mandache.

#princess Elisabeth of Hesse #1902 #1902 Letters & Diary entries

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scotianostra · 2 months

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youtube

Happy Birthday to Scottish singer/songwriter Graham Lyle, born March 11th 1944 in Belshill.

There’s nothing I can find about Lyle’s early life, but he is best known for collaboration with fellow Scot Benny Gallagher.

Graham and Benny first teamed up in 1959 as members of a local The Bluefrets, and teamed up again in a band based in Saltcoats called the Tulsans. The Tulsans released two singles in 1965 under the name James Galt these rare tracks are now prized by Northern Soul Collectors.

So after doing their apprenticeship around Ayrshire and Glasgow Graham and Benny headed south to London in the mid 60′s, a rare one-off single, “Trees”, was issued on Polydor UK another very rare song, if you come cross it in amongst an old dusty second hand shop you might get a few quid for it.

In 1968 the pair were signed up to write songs for artists on the Apple record label, mainly for Mary Hopkins. Two years later the pair formed the band McGuinness Flint writing nine of the 11 songs on the group’s eponymous debut album, including their two top five hits, When I’m Dead and Gone and Malt and Barley Blues. A second album followed before the pair left to branch out as duo with Gallagher and Lyle in 1972.

As a duo, Gallagher and Lyle recorded a total of eight albums, while they weren’t all big hits the duo were well respected for there song writing and chemistry between them. Their biggest hits I Wanna Stay With You and Heart on My Sleeve both of which also charted in the US. Gallagher and Lyle ‘s songs both topped the US Billboard Adult Contemporary chart for Art Garfunkel and Don Williams respectively. As session musicians, Gallagher and Lyle also backed numerous big names on disc, including Eric Clapton, Andy Fairweather Low and Fairport Convention amongst others.

In 1981, Graham Lyle formed his own publishing company, Goodsingle Publishing (later to become goodsingle.com), chiefly to administer his own copyrights, and began writing for other artists. These artist included Michael Jackson, Stevie Wonder, Diana Ross, Patti Labelle, Joe Cocker, Hall & Oates, Jim Diamond, Wet,Wet,Wet, and Wyclef Jean….the list really is endless!

The song that we definitely all know best that was written by Graham Lyle is the Tina Turner smash hit What’s love got to do with it, in which he teamed up with the English-Australian songwriter Terry Britten. It won the Song of the Year Grammy. The song hit the top of the charts in many countries, and was a worldwide hit, in 2012 it was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame. He also co-wrote one of my favourite songs from the 80′s I should have known better with Jim Diamond. A little known fact is that the song was offered to Cliff Richard, but was rejected, former Eurovison winners Bucks Fizz are said to have recorded a version that was never released. However, the gifted Largs songwriter insisted that he always wanted Turner to record it, and said in a News interview in 2012: "We sent the demo to the publishers and got at least four people wanting to record it. Tina was one of them. We were given the opportunity as the writers to say which artist we wanted to record it.

“I wanted Tina to do it. She was one of the greats, though she was having a tough time and didn’t even have a record deal.”

I'll end this post much in the same way I started it with no news on Graham's latest activity of late, he was mentioned in numerous articles last May after the passing of Tina Turne, butno news other than that.

Song choicei s Lyle siging What's Love Got To Do With It

#scotland #scottish #history #musician #singer songwriter #grammy winner #Youtube

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maswartz · 1 year

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DC Legacy

The basic premise of this is that the time has come for older heroes to step down and the next generation take their place. Clark Kent is now the editor and owner of the Daily Planet and vows to lead them into the future while keeping their dedication to the truth. Diana Prince is now Queen of the Amazons and has relinquished her title as Wonder Woman though she still joins the Justice Society when needed. Bruce Wayne has become mayor of Gotham City and intends to use the power of the office to fight crime at the root. However the intensified spotlight means he must give up the cowl. Others such as Oliver Queen have stepped down from active duty to become teachers to the next generation, passing down their skills and knowledge. Justice League Superman- Clark Kent Batman- Dick Grayson Wonder Woman- Donna Troy The Flash- Wally West Aquaman- Garth Red Arrow- Roy Harper Starfire- Koriand'r Beast Man- Garfield Logan Raven- Rachel Roth Cyborg- Victor Stone Green Lantern- Kyle Rayner Green Lantern- Jessica Cruz Shazam- Billy Batson Captain Thunder- Mary Bromfield Power Woman- Karen Starr JLA Reserves Supergirl- Kara Zor-El Thunderbolt- Freddy Freedman Thunderstorm- Eugene Choi Thunderblast- Pedro Peña Thunderspark- Darla Dudley Batman Beyond- Tim “Jace” Fox Captain Atom- Nathaniel Adam Green Arrow- Connor Hawke Zatanna- Zatanna Zatara Doctor Mid-Nite- Beth Chapel Argent- Toni Monetti Firestorm- Jason Rusch/Gehenna Black Canary- Dinah Lance Atom- Ryan Choi Plastic Man- Patrick “Eel” O’Brien Jade- Jennifer-Lynn Haden Obsidian- Todd Rice Zauriel Justice League Universal Martian Manhunter- J'onn J'onzz Green Lantern- Simon Baz Green Lantern- Sojourner Mullein Jemm Hawkman- Carter Hall Hawkwoman- Kendra Saunders Adam Strange Darkfire- Ryand’r Metamorpho- Rex Mason Captain Comet- Adam Blake Orion Tomorrow Woman- Clara Kendall Starman- Will Payton The Titans Nightwing- Tim Drake Superboy- Conner Kent Fury- Cassandra Sandsmark Mercury- Bart Allen Blue Beetle- Jaime Reyes Static- Virgil Hawkins Green Lantern- Tai Pham Monkey Prince- Marcus Sun Miss Martian- M'gann M'orzz Empress- Anita Fite Titans West Batgirl- Cassandra Cain Spoiler- Stephanie Brown Red Devil- Eddie Bloomberg Solstice- Kiran Yellow Arrow- Mia Dearden Tempest- Jackson Hyde Power Girl- Tanya Spears Wonder Twins- Zan and Jayna Velocity- Wallace West Outsiders Black Lightning- Jefferson Pierce Thunder- Anissa Pierce Lightning- Jennifer Pierce Grace- Grace Choi Inertia- Thaddeus Thawne Tengu- Asami Koizumi El Dorado- Edward Dorado Jr Longshadow- Ty Longshadow Halo II- Gabrielle Daou Ravager- Rose Wilson Jericho- Joseph Wilson Quake- Atlee Tsunami- Lorena Marquez The Signal- Duke Thomas Offspring- Luke O’Brien Young Justice Red X- Damian Wayne Nightbird- Chris Kent Flamewing- Jon Kent Wonder Girl- Yara Flor Kid Flash- Iris West Impulse- Jai West Teen Lantern- Keli Quintela Green Beetle- Milagro Reyes Speedy- Lian Harper Jinny Hex Amethyst Twister- Traya Sutton Animal Girl- Maxine Baker Aquarius- Cerdian Justice Society Mr Terrific- Michael Holt Green Sentinel- Alan Scott The Flash- Jay Garrick Wildcat- Ted Grant Doctor Mid-Nite- Pieter Cross Wonder Woman- Diana Prince Hourman- Rick Tyler Liberty Belle- Jesse Tyler The Boom- Judy Garrick Stargirl- Courtney Whitmore Cyclone- Maxine Hunkel Tomcat- Tom Bronson Sand- Sanderson Hawkins Jakeem Thunder/Johnny Thunderbolt- Jakeem Williams and Johnny Thunder Atom Smasher- Albert Rothstein Damage- Grant Emerson Dr Fate- Khalid Nassour

#dc #dc comics #justice league #teen titans #young justice #justice society #jla #jsa #the outsiders #jlu #written and queued about a month ago

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littlelesbianintern · 1 month

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in regards to the act iii a lot of the suggestions I’ve seen are pretty much only 2000s rock scene based which I’m still all for but at the end of the day this is Beyoncé we’re talking about so the album is going to be musicology of rock n roll so here are my predictions/hopes of samples/collabs for act iii aka the rock album:

Sister Rosetta Tharpe (the mother of rock n roll) (there’s a snippet of ‘Down By The Riverside’ featured on Smoke Hour w/ Willie Nelson already)

Elvis Presley

Tina Turner (devastated we won’t get a collab) probably ‘Proud Mary’

Aerosmith (hopefully a cover of ‘Dream On’)

The Rolling Stones

Little Richard

Prince

Led Zeppelin

Jimi Hendrix

Stevie Nicks

Rage Against The Machine

Lenny Kravitz

Michael Jackson (fingers crossed for ‘Dirty Diana’)

Paramore as an example of more recent rock bands.

Queen

Others I could see maybe as collaborators on the composition could be the rest of Fleetwood Mac, a Slash guitar solo, potentially Foo Fighters (Dave Grohl has played drums for other artists tracks a couple of times), maybe Elton John, etc.

Edit: ok this was in my drafts before she name dropped like a bunch of the people on my list at the iHeart awards last night this album is about to be so good

#beyonce #cowboy carter #beyoncé act iii

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world-of-wales · 1 year

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CATHERINE'S STYLE FILES - 2022

22 NOVEMBER 2022 || The Princess of Wales attended a State Banquet held in the honour of the South African President at Buckingham Palace in London.

Catherine opted for -

Bespoke version of the Elspeth gown in white with shoulder embellishments by Jenny Packham

Queen Mary’s Lover’s Knot Tiara

Princess Diana's South Sea Pearl Drop Earrings

Royal Family Order of Queen Elizabeth II

Art Deco Diamond Set Brooch from Bentley & Skinner

Dame Grand Cross of the Royal Victorian Order Sash and Badge

Dame Grand Cross of the Royal Victorian Order Star

Queen Elizabeth II's Four-Strand Pearl Bracelet

Butterfly Box Clutch in White Satin by Alexander McQueen

'Rania 105' Pumps in silver from Gianvito Rossi

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ggomos-maribat · 1 year

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[63/?]

original prompt | complete masterlist

Tim is about to take his breakfast up to his room (earning himself reproachful glances from Alfred) when he hears laughter from the main lounge area. It’s delightful laughter, not the ugly, devilish ones his brothers chortle out when they successfully pull off another prank on Dick. So he knows it’s not any of them.

He peeks into the room and nearly drops his plate.

They’re all sitting in a circle, chatting and giggling around Marinette as she multitasks between sketching designs and entertaining them. Kon’s large figure is draped on the sofa as he animatedly talks about one of his adventures. Bart is sitting cross-legged on the floor, while Cassie is beside Marinette, imparting her witty retorts and receiving everyone’s laughs in response.

Tim rubs his eyes. Maybe I need more sleep.

“Oh, hey Tim!” Marinette waves. “Good morning, sleepyface.”

Tim blushes a deep shade of red as his friends snicker at his rubber duck pajamas. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Mari’s making new designs for us,” Bart replies. “Inspired by our superhero alter egos. Isn’t that cool?”

Tim snorts. Just because Marinette has revealed herself, she has taken the liberty of stealing their hero friends. Dick hasn’t stopped whining about it since the previous day. He won’t be surprised if she comes for Bernard next.

“Whatever. I’m gonna go eat.” He makes a sharp hasty turn and stalks back to the kitchen.

—

Dick buries his head in his hands. “It’s all over! She’s got them too!”

Jason, carrying a bunch of groceries for Alfred, and Steph, who brought the drinks the family ordered, stroll into the kitchen.

“Who’s got who?” Jason asks.

The eldest’s face curls into a sour expression as he points towards the dining hall. Marinette is there, surrounded by members of the Justice League in civilian form: Diana, Clark, Hal, Barry, Zatanna, Dinah, Oliver, and Arthur. The room is lively just from their chatter over lunch.

“She’s got Bruce’s friends too!” Dick says, devastated.

Steph guffaws. “Don’t you know they’ve been friends for a long time now? Like since Ladybug joined the League?”

Dick’s face turns grim. “This situation is much worse than I thought.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Really, Dickie, it’s usually just for commissions. She’s not actually stealing our friends.”

“Roy visited her the other day! With Kory!”

“. . . Okay we need to do something about this.”

—

Marinette walks down the street, lugging along multiple rolls of fabric and supplies for her new commission. She’s glad to have other heroes as fans of her work—it’s an opportunity to work on new designs other than ones inspired by her family.

As she heads towards the bus stop, she stops on her tracks, recognizing a group of people sitting around a table outside a cozy cafe. Dick leaning back on his chair, sunglasses on; Jason is sipping from his drink; Tim chugging down his coffee; and Damian has his permanent scowl on.

Along with them are her friends. Adrien, Kagami, Chloe, Luka, Juleka and even Felix.

She marches up towards them, hands on her hips, glare directed at Dick. “Oh my god. You guys are so petty.”

“It was Jason’s idea,” says Dick nonchalantly.

Marinette stares at Jason. “You fucking drama queen.”

He grins. “Thank you.”

She rolls her eyes, returning her friends’ greetings. Leaning down, she presses a quick peck on Felix’s cheek. “Invite them to the manor tonight for dinner since you dragged them all the way here,” she instructed her brothers.

“Maybe we’ll go out to dinner ourselves.” Dick crosses his arms.

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