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#mostly cause of how flimsy it all is and I just can't help but think about nails chipping and tearing out and oof... that bothers me
medicinemane · 2 years
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I don't know why youtube has decided that my god I love long nails and want to watch videos about people with really long fake nails showing off long nail tips... but I have a secret for you...
I really don't like long nails
I keep my own nails pretty much exactly even with my finger, and anything more than that drives me crazy
While other people's nails are their own business and I don't care, I'll be honest that the length of these people's nails just kind of makes me very uncomfortable and I don't like looking at it
So good job youtube, you've totally failed once again at finding me stuff to watch
#I'm extremely picky about my nail length and actually it has a lot to do with why I can't stop biting my nails#it's not nerves or something it's that I can quickly get my nails to exactly the length I want them#and despite what you'd think with a pretty smooth edge to things#using nail clippers just feels very unpleasant to me and is way less precise and honestly doesn't get it as close as I want it#and filing gets it about where I want it... but it smooths things out so much I can't open stuff like tin can tabs#so I'd love to stop biting my nails but functionality wise I still haven't found anything better#I think if I ever do it'll probably be some variation on filing them down cause that's the only one that gets close enough to the finger#but I'd need to like... still have nails instead of smooth nubs that can't get under anything#but yeah... I really really have strong opinions about long nails#anything longer than like a mm more than anything else makes me kind of wonder how the other person functions#and I don't like the like... coloring that the bit past the finger starts taking on#now I've tried very hard here to make sure this is staying a personal preference thing#because I don't want someone with long nails reading these tags to feel awful#there's nothing wrong with it I just find it kind of uncomfortable#but like... those inch long fake nails... they just get to me a lot#people should be allowed to wear them... but man they honest to god bother me#mostly cause of how flimsy it all is and I just can't help but think about nails chipping and tearing out and oof... that bothers me
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lovebugism · 4 months
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Hi!!!
Could you write jealous!eddie x reader…🫣
I’m down so bad for this man istg
ty for requesting :D i too am down bad for this man — grump!eddie can't believe other people get to look at you (jealous!eddie, established relationship, 1.7k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Eddie thought the comic book section of Family Video was the coolest thing in the world until he met you. And it’s weird ‘cause now you’re all he can think about. He’s holding a collector’s item in his hands, but all he can see is you — and how close you’re standing to Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.
The boy lays two VHS tapes on the counter before you, each packaged in a thick plastic case. My Neighbor Totoro and The Land Before Time. He waits for you to make an impossible choice while you idle just ahead of him, elbows propped on the countertop with your head in your hands. Your wide-eyed gaze darts between the two options.
Your head shakes between your palms. “I can’t decide,” you conclude, rising to full height with a final huff. “It’s like choosing your favorite child.”
“Well, good thing you don’t have to,” Steve quips with a lopsided smirk. His nose scrunches, and it makes his honey eyes sparkle. “‘Cause you’re getting both. On the house.”
“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him, brows pinched in a quiet sort of protest.
He drops the tapes into a plastic bag, then shrugs like his hand slipped. “Too late.”
“Won’t your boss get mad?”
“What Keith doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me,” you agonize, face twisted with every bit of it.
Steve meets your worry with a wider, pink grin. He bounces a shoulder and jostles the nametag pinned haphazardly to his emerald vest. “I’ll be fine, alright? I’m strong— I can take one of Keith’s stupid lectures.”
Your hesitant fingers brush his golden ones when you take the bag from him. “You’re so brave, Steve Harrington,” you lilt with a teasing glint in your eye, tilting your cheek to your shoulder to feign sincerity.
“The bravest, actually,” the boy jokes in return.
Eddie watches all this play out from where he lingers at the comic book stand. A whole rack of his favorite superheroes, and he isn’t paying an ounce of attention to a single one. 
He was only halfway listening at first, still mostly focused on the cartoon in his hands — if only to pretend he wasn’t completely eavesdropping on your conversation. But now he’s outright staring the two of you down, with an unabashed glare pointed at the asshole flirting with his girl. 
“God, he’s disgusting,” Eddie grumbles under his breath when Steve says something that makes you laugh.
He’s not talking totally to himself. Not entirely, anyway. Dustin’s crouched just beside him in search of one of the newer comics that he swears Keith is hiding from him. “He’s just being nice,” the curly-haired boy reasons with a shrug, obviously distracted as he flips through a stack of flimsy magazines.
Eddie scoffs and finally turns away from you to look at the boy below him. He blinks for the first time in several minutes as he shoots the kid a deadpan stare. “Oh, so it’s not because he thinks my girlfriend’s hot?”
“He’s definitely doing it because she’s hot,” Dustin answers without thinking twice.
“Watch it, Henderson.”
“You asked!” he argues, tilting his chin to look up at Eddie with a wide, ocean-eyed stare. “I’m just saying. Steve’s a good guy. He wouldn’t do that to you— Now, can you please help me find this stupid comic book before I lose my mind?”
Eddie huffs. He decides it might be healthier to distract himself with this metaphorical treasure hunt than stare daggers at you and Steve from across the room. “Which one are you looking for again?”
“Metamorpho— The original. Not the stupid reprint that just came out.”
The older boy stills. He closes the comic book between his palms with one pale hand until the cover of it flips down. Metamorpho, the vibrant cover reads, The Element Man. He’d been too busy looking at you, he hadn’t realized he’d been hiding the thing from Dustin for five whole minutes.
“Is this it?” Eddie murmurs, shoving the thing in the boy’s face.
Dustin’s head shoots up. He snatches the thing from the boy’s grip and gapes at it, with all his practiced teenage boy dramatics. “You had it the entire time?!” he shouts, but Eddie’s already sauntering to the front counter — where Steve’s still making you laugh. 
As pretty as you are smiling (so much that it makes his chest ache), there’s a simmering anger burning orange in his chest. Making you laugh is his job. Not Harrington’s.
You seem to notice his presence before he’s even wrapped you in his arms. You flash him a beaming grin that makes his stomach whirl. He gets sick with it — with nostalgia or something equally tender. 
The green of his envy starts to fade when he realizes you’re wearing his skull and cross-bones sweater, all bundled up in it like it’s yours. He feels a primal sense of ownership, knowing that you’re swaddled in something that belongs to him, knowing he has you in a way Steve doesn’t. It’s not every day the local freak gets to one-up the king.
“Ready to go?” Eddie grins, rosy and broad, as he wraps his arms around you in a loose, sideways embrace. The warmth of the proximity has your stomach doing backflips. The familiarity of his scent, musky and woody and smoky, makes your heart thud hard against your ribcage.
“Yep,” you nod, still smiling. “Steve’s letting me get the movies for free.”
Eddie’s lips smack against his teeth as his jaw drops in a feigned sense of awe. His wild curls bunch at his shoulder when his head tilts softly sideways, looking at the boy across the counter. “Aw,” he croons, high-pitched and sarcastic. “Isn’t that sweet?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Shut up before I revoke your comic stand privileges.”
Eddie squints. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me, Munson.”
Eddie, deciding to be the bigger person, chooses to abandon the petty argument. He feels like the bigger person, anyway — like he’s ten feet tall, walking out of Family Video with you under his arm. He could lose a thousand arguments and still feel like a winner as long as he gets to crawl home to you.
You can’t help but notice how weird he’s being, though. There was a foreign bite behind his words as he spat his sarcasm at Steve. The tension follows you even now, as he opens the passenger side door of his van for you. 
Eddie holds onto the rusted latch with a pale, tattooed hand. You turn to face him instead of planting yourself onto the chipping pleather seat. “Are you okay?” you ask, a subtle furrow between your brows when you peer at him from beneath your lashes.
The boy scoffs a boyish laugh, obviously overcompensating. “Yeah, I’m fine— what are you talking about?”
Your eyes narrow. “You’re being weird.”
“I think you’re being weird, doll— interrogating me outta nowhere.” 
He expects you to laugh. Then he could tell you how pretty you are, and you’d be so flustered by the compliment that you’d forget this entire conversation ever happened. You don’t laugh, though. You don’t even crack a smile. You just keep staring at him.
“I’m fine,” Eddie groans, wild curls billowing when a breeze rolls by. He still tries to smile, though the bright pink expression doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He shrugs and tries to play it cool because anything less than that is so not metal. “I’m just… I’m just a little annoyed. That’s all.”
Your chest stings and your stomach starts to ache. Your mind reels as you try to understand what you could’ve done because the oh-so-sensitive you feels like it must be your fault.
“Annoyed at me?” you press in a tiny voice.
“No!” Eddie booms instantly, much louder than you. He quietens, but his face still swirls with protest. He could never be annoyed at you. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve never done anything wrong in your life. “No— are you kidding? You’re perfect.”
He takes your face in his ringed hands, cradling your cheeks until they squish softly together. A perfect thing, indeed.
“Then what happened?” you mutter through your gently jutted lips.
The boy drops his chin to his chest and sighs. He hates that you care so much about him that you actually make him talk about his feelings. He’d much rather bottle them up and save ‘em for a rainy day. But no, you love him enough to pry the hidden emotion from his cold, black heart.
“I don’t know,” he answers first in an inaudible murmur, kicking at loose pebbles on the concrete because it’s easier than meeting your eyes. “Sometimes it gets annoying when… Other people look at you, I guess…”
He peeks at you beneath his long lashes, button eyes made of chocolate. They swim with a glittering emotion. Something tender and sheepish. He’s like a puppy when he looks at you this way. You can’t help but find him utterly adorable accordingly.
He’s a little surprised when his words make you laugh. He wasn’t joking, really, but he’s relieved to hear the honeyed sound. It runs over him like drops of summer rain and absolves him of all his envy.
“Unfortunately, I don’t think I can fix that,” you reply, smiling wide between his calloused palms.
“I know,” he whines, pouting softly. “And it sucks. ‘Cause you’re too pretty for your own good.”
You lean further into his warm hand. You blink at him with pretty eyes, and in a pretty voice, you wonder, “Would it make you feel better if I said that I only care when you’re looking at me? And that everyone else is basically invisible when you’re around?”
Eddie’s heart swells so much it starts to ache. You’ve awoken something in him — something that used to be dead before you came around, or something that didn’t exist at all. It’s something golden and made of velvet. Something warm and honeyed. Something that doesn’t have a name because you don’t even know you’ve invented it.
Despite trying not to smile too wide, a beam begins to pull at the corners of his mouth. A second later, and he’s grinning with all his teeth. He gets all shy, ducking his gaze as he nods at you. “Yeah, actually— that does make me feel a little better.”
You beam up at him, all lovesick and stupid. With your cheeks still in his hands, you rise to the tips of your toes and press a smacking kiss to the flushed apple of his cheek.
Eddie figures it doesn’t get more metal than this.
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librarycards · 8 months
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*might be sending this to a bunch of people with great blogs who I really like and appreciate
saw a claim made that ocd "can never be cured, like thatevery person who has ocd will always deal with it, "have it" and that's because ocd is caused by a "chemical imbalance in the brain" and that it's been "proven by research". so they say you can't deal with ocd for only a few months or years, if you say you have than it wasn't actually ocd you're lying or exaggerating. which I find ridiculous and insulting, but than they say something worse "research has proven it's chemicals in the brain" which sounds even more ridiculou (im anti-psychiatry all the way. but what can I say to that?! any thoughts?? is this person referencing any real research? or just made up pro psychiatry nonsense??
I'm afraid I might not have a satisfying answer to this ask, mostly because I'm 1) agnostic (at my most generous) to the "chemical imbalance theory" of "mental illness" (as it were). there is nuance to this: i don't think that we are somehow entirely unaffected by our brains, in terms of structure and contents etc. Rather, I think that the construction of "mental disability" is relatedly only tangentially to what our brains actually "do." That is, the construction of mental disability preceded and continues to exceed what is capable of being known about the brain "itself," because mental disability is first and foremost a social, medical, legal, linguistic construction. Little more evidence of this is needed than the fact that I have never had my brain scanned, yet have been diagnosed with myriad mental disabilities and institutionalized against my will. The brain is to mental disability what "sex" is to gender –– a mythology of concreteness designed to (unsteadily) bolster the flimsiness of the diagnosis, the assignment.
While I am also uninterested in recovery as a paradigm, and in theorizing what it might look like to be "free" of a certain part of the way i move through the world (ocd included), I am interested in collective healing with and through self-determination and free association. What I know for sure, despite the murkiness of everything else, is that it is possible to substantially improve your quality of life in a wide variety of ways: some people find medications that help, some counselling (whether professional or informal). Others choose spirituality and meditation. Others self-direct using freely available therapeutic resources. Still more enlist the help of their friends and loved ones to keep track of types of behavior they'd like to avoid. And, of course, some don't do any of that, and it is their right to do so, so long as they are not endangering others, regardless of how shitty it feels (both for them and the people who care about them).
so: I'm giving you a non-answer. I don't believe in cure because I don't believe in disability-as-disease. I think people who are obsessed (haha) with figuring out the etiology of different diagnoses are at best naïve and at worst eugenicist. (Note: i am not upset with you, nor do I think you're a eugenicist or any other genre of bad person! Thinking about these things does not make you bad. Asking these questions in good faith does not make you bad, either.) I think that we will be much better positioned to talk about living and improving together when we forget chemical imbalances or medical decrees of terminality or unrecoverability or treatment resistance, and start thinking about things we can do in our lives now that help us create better futures.
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lavenoon · 1 year
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Lave-san i need help i desperately need fics where the DCA does not like you initially/straight up dislikes you and avoids you. Bonus ppints for mechanic y/n
So I'll lead with the disclaimer that I crowdfunded this reply because I am a pitifully slow reader, which translates to me actually reading only very few fanfics. However, I trust my sources (from the Sleepy Cove Server <3), so I'll wholeheartedly recommend these!
First the two I have actually read:
Our Orbit is Elliptical by @sycopomp and @madame-mongoose
The Daycare Attendant is very protective of his role in the Superstar Daycare; he was made for this job, after all, and he finds it insulting that management seems to think he needs help. They insist on saddling him with human assistants, over and over, no matter how many quit. Not that he does it intentionally, of course... but if they can't handle the stress, then perhaps they aren't fit to be working with children. Hmph.
You are the new Daycare Assistant at the Superstar Daycare! Despite some reservations, you're determined to do your best and prove-- mostly to yourself-- that you deserve to be here. You're inspired by Sun and the ease with which he gets along with the children, and you hope to impress him with your go-getter attitude and unflappable confidence! (Even if both of those things are about as flimsy as construction paper...)
aka: Sun is passive-aggressive to his new assistant, whom is so determined to do a good job that they're too oblivious to notice.
Almost Human by @vilz
“I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself.” ― Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis
---
You get a new job. It's a struggle.
And now the ones that make me wish I could read faster or simply have more time in the day:
Two Choices by @thelonereni
You chose this.
There was regret of course, but turning back wasn't an option anymore. You couldn't lose this new game you found yourself in, and somehow you managed to feel more and more alive the longer you played...
You have worked in sanitation since the pizzaplex opened, but that all changed when you had a bit of a mishap in the kitchen. With the only real option left being an assistant in the daycare, you decided it couldn't be worse that your previous position.
Between the surly daycare attendant, bosses breathing down your neck and the corporate overlords coming for a visit, your starting to think you make really shitty life choices.
What's The Moral Here? by @/siquieres on ao3
Your little brother is invited to a birthday party at Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex, hosted inside the Superstar Daycare. The Daycare Attendant takes a disliking towards you, or at least, that's what you think it is. Despite this and the violent nightmares of a sun god that plague you, you keep letting your brother bring you back. You keep coming back.
A sort of mean-spirited take on the Sun/Reader dynamic. Reader is often injured, intentionally or not.
What's It Called When Light Hits A Prism? by @/TooManyPsuedonyms on ao3
The PizzaPlex has been running--and the Management needs a new operator for one of their salvaged animatronics.
You are just trying to live independently, so of course, you'll take the job.
You have no idea what you're in for. Granted, you never really know what you're in for, but this can't be much different than working with regular human people… right?
And perhaps one where the DCA doesn't outright dislike Y/N, but the premise still causes tension in their dynamic (and you get mechanic Y/N!):
It's Curtains For You! by @muzzlemouths
|| “You will be befriending, then dismantling the animatronic,” he gets right to the point, “and you’ll have about a month to do it.”
You're not here to make friends. You're here to earn what you can, smile and nod with simple Yes Sirs, and keep your head down low. An open position as the Daycare Attendant's newest 'mechanic' doesn't change any of that. You're on a tight schedule with the disassembly and you can't afford to be getting attached.
But what happens when you do?
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infitsovermisfits · 2 years
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What's Shakin' Baby? (3) - Eddie Munson x GN! Reader
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AN: Oh my god. I realised as I was editing this how heavily this is mostly just found family interactions so if u don't like that, you'll hate this. Honestly love this series too much. I can't write what I'm not actively passionate about or have a connection with which might be bad considering how many people are looking forward to part 6 of my other fic... But oh well- I'll write what i want to write :) Thank you so much for reading my works, ilysm and all that 
WARNINGS: gender-neutral reader, reader is 20, found family trope, angst, mentions of child abuse, mentions of injury/burns, mentions of doing drugs, potential distressing imagry, dealing with grief, mentions of death, dealing with death, parental deaths, reader helping everyone with their relationships, by everyone i mean max and lucas, helping max through her billy related trauma, reader having billy related trauma, billy hargreeves is an asshole in this one, panic attack, implied sexual/physical assault though no detail is given, allusions to suicide, mentions of throwing up/ vomit, mentions of blood, alludes to smut at the end but fades out
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST
23,358 words (jesus christ?)
"Oh my fucking God," You groaned, slowly pacing the length of the small space you had behind the counter. You walked from the register, all the way along the chilled tubs of fruit and stopped near the decorative bowl of fake fruit, before turning on your heel and pacing back, "I wish I could close early," You whine impatiently to Eddie. It had been almost a month since your confession of feelings to one another and for the first time in your life, you were honestly glad you had returned to Hawkins. You wouldn't want anyone else keeping you company through your closing shift. He sat at the closest table to the register and focused hard on writing in his notebook, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration. He smirked at your words, eyes flicking up to look at you before he sighed, stretching his arms and legs out, tucking the pencil he had been scribbling notes with behind his ear,
"Why can't you, again?" He asked, leaning his elbows on the table, and glancing down at his hands, playing with his rings, "I mean, I doubt anyone's gonna wanna drink smoothies at 4 pm on a... Beautifully, overcast Thursday afternoon," He grinned, glancing outside briefly. You sighed at his comment, looking over the bins of fruit you'd have to toss out with a grimace. You removed one of the flimsy plastic gloves to eat a strawberry. Technically it wasn't a health code violation, considering the fruits would be thrown away in a few minutes,
"I can't close yet 'just in case'," You huffed, "Sam's policy," You grumbled, glancing at the clock and seeing you still had fifteen minutes left of the shift. You grabbed another strawberry, chewing on the fruit and thinking, tapping your fingers against the counter, "Mmmh... Well, maybe you could help me with something?" You suggested, straightening before you could allow yourself to eat the rest of the berries,
"Babe-" He whined, causing you to smirk, "You know helping you with work is my least favourite thing to do," He grinned. After you graduated and got this job, he spent his time with you here either complaining about homework or enthusiastically chatting about his latest campaigns- that was until Sam started complaining he was loitering and scaring off the customers. Though you didn't seem to mind, "-Do I have to remind you that I don't work here?" he smirked to himself,
"You might as well be," You muttered, "You're here more than Micheal," You rolled your eyes as you moved around to grab a blender, "Get over here Munson," You said sharply, grinning to yourself as he jumped and glared at your words. The pencil dropped from his head and rolled closer to the counter, making you laugh as he begrudgingly stood and walked closer, bending down to pick up the pencil and tuck it back behind his ear. He let out an exaggerated sigh, staring at you for a moment, "You deserved that," You teased, watching as his lips twisted into a small smile when his eyes met yours, and he shook his head slightly, "What?" You asked, your own lips twisting into a loving smile,
"Hi," He eventually said, "You look cute in that uniform," He said quickly as you opened your mouth. Your brain stopped functioning momentarily at his compliment, and seeing the effect his words had on you had him giving you a toothy grin that your face warmed at, "You work here often?" He added playfully,
"Wha- shut up, stop flirting with me on the job," You scolded, trying to ignore the sudden wave of nerves that made your heart hammer in your chest and your hands shake slightly, "You are gonna help me make a new smoothie,"
"Ugh," He groaned playfully, walking backwards a few slow steps and throwing his head back in mock annoyance, "This is what you need my help with?" He asked, glancing back at you with a grimace,
"I'll drink it after," You promised. At that, his smirk returned, and your own face dropped at the look on his face, "Oh God, Eddie please," You smiled slightly as his eyes flicked over the fruits with a wicked look, "Please don't make it super gross- remember that you love me," You regretted the proposition almost instantly,
"Damn- here I was about to ask you if you had any spoiled milk on tap," He teased, glancing up at you. You glared back at him over the glass as he only smirked,
"Eddie," You warned playfully, "I'm not gonna drink a spoiled-milk smoothie,"
"But you said you'd drink the smoothie I made!"
"Not if I'll die!"
"You won't die from drinking spoiled milk- I got so high once I didn't even realise it was off," Your eyes widened at his statement,
"Eddie!" You exclaimed in alarm,
"What!?" He matched your surprised tone with a large grin,
"You c- please tell me you didn't drink spoiled milk-"
"Babe- it was, like, a year ago-"
"A year ago!?" You laughed loudly,
"Hey! It's not my fault!"
"How is it not your own fault that you almost drank spoiled milk, Eds?" You laughed, shaking your head as you grabbed a clean scoop to measure the ingredients with. He sighed softly, shrugging and shaking his head,
"I... Guess I didn't have you to yell at me back then," He said with a small smile. You only hummed with a nod, glancing over the fruits before glancing back at him,
"Right," You breathed, "So-" The sudden jingle of the bell behind him made you jump slightly, and you moved to the side to see who entered, "Oh! Hi Max," You waved with a small smile, "We're about to close. You came here to try out the smoothies?" You asked,
"Uh, no," She said, walking closer to the two of you, "I forgot you work here... It's good I found this place," She glanced around the colourful establishment, stopping next to Eddie, "it just started raining like, really bad," She pointed outside. You could faintly hear the harsh tapping of the rain against roof and glass, lashing against the window outside,
"Damn," You huffed, "That's shitty... Good thing Munson drove here and we can hitch a ride," You winked at her before glancing back at Eddie,
"Yeah, or else you'd be fucked, babe," He smirked at you,
"I'd just call you to come and pick me up," You said with a shrug,
"Would I answer it though?" He teased, leaning his arm on the glass display,
"Get off the display, Eds, you know you can't lean on it," You scolded, sending him a soft glare. You looked back at Max. Since your evening at the arcade, you'd hung out with her almost every day, getting to know her better. Before you knew it, the three of you had somehow become good friends with her. At least you felt that way. As the summer grew warmer, you found it strange she wasn't leaving home to hang out in town like everyone else, which only prompted you to try and change her dull mood. Whether it was going on walks through the forest behind the trailer park or taking her grocery shopping with you, at least she was there and having a good time,
"You're no fun," He huffs, rolling his eyes and glancing at Max. He holds his hand out for her to high-five, before straightening, "You wanna help us?" He offers, nodding his head to you,
"Is it interesting?" She asks,
"I asked Eddie to help me with a new smoothie. Maybe you could give better suggestions than spoiled milk," You stuck your tongue out slightly, grinning brightly as she let out a small laugh and walked closer to the glass display, looking over the fruits, "Pick anything and I'll blend it up," You said, "I have to get rid of these somehow- so they're either going in the trash, or in a cup," You said, popping the 'p', "Besides, I need to think of a new summer flavour to go with the Berry one," You loosely gesture behind you,
"Hmm..." She hummed curiously, narrowing her eyes. You could almost see the gears turning in her head as she studied the fruits,
"And they have to drink it after," Eddie quickly chimed in, clicking his fingers as he pointed at you and smirking as Max looked up at him with a surprised expression. A wide smile spread across her face,
"Eddie, why?" You said with a sigh, though smiled at the way Max seemed to light up,
"What? You omitted a very interesting detail that I feel like our friend should know about," He shrugged, glancing back at Max and winking. She turned back to the display, glancing over the fruits once more,
"Are those blood oranges?" She asked, pointing to the red slices. You gave her a short nod, "Okay- add those, and those regular oranges too," She pointed to them, a finger tapping against the glass gently as you scooped the fruit and loaded them into a blender, "Uhh... Do you have juices?" She asked, glancing behind you,
"Apple, orange, lemon, lime, cranberry, carrot-" You listed them off,
"Okay," She quickly cut you off, "Add lemon, orange and lime," She grinned,
"Damn, Red," Eddie laughed, watching you measure out small increments of juice to add to the drink, "Hey babe?" He called your attention, "Add some cran juice in there too," He nodded to you, before looking at Max, "It makes it red so it looks like blood," He told her,
"Cool," She said, watching as you added the crimson juice,
"Please tell me that's it," You begged, glancing at the fruit and juice in the blender with a grimace, before glancing up at Max,
"Mmm... Add some more lemon juice," She suggested, laughing as you made a face,
"Oh, God..." You sighed, feeling like your life was flashing before your eyes as you uncapped the lemon juice and poured in a small amount, "Good enough?"
"Add more," Max smiled; Eddie laughed beside her,
"How about Max just tells you when to stop, babe?" He suggested, earning a glare from you. You sighed as he blew you a playful kiss, and glanced at the juice rapidly filling the rest of the blender,
"Max... Max, please... For the love of God!" Your eyes widened, "You know it was my idea we went to the arcade, we could go again-"
"Stop!" She quickly says as you stop pouring the juice with a relieved sigh, "Yeah, that's good," She smiled, watching you patiently. With a huff, you moved to the blenders, turning it on and watching the juice swirl around, grimacing at the red-orange colour the smoothie became,
"Do you think this'll melt my teeth?" You asked once it was done, and the loud noise subsided. You dumped the contents into a cup and grabbed a few straws, grimacing as you set the things down on the counter for them,
"Nah- it's not acid," Eddie murmured, leaning his elbow on the counter as he glanced at the smoothie, then up at you. Max joined him, putting her hands on the counter and watching you expectantly,
"Eddie, babe," You shook your head, "This is basically pure citric acid," You smiled softly, pointing at the cup, "Like citrus? Citrus fruits?" You clarified for him,
"Oh... Shit, I guess it is acid..." Worry drew his brows together as he glanced at the drink again, "Should you be drinking it then?" He asked,
"Didn't you force me to?" You smiled, glancing at Max. She smiled, nodding eagerly,
"Drink it; drink it," She chanted eagerly. With a reluctant sigh, you grabbed one of the straws, sticking it in the cup. You braced yourself, glancing between the two,
"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Eddie asked, still clearly worried for you. You looked down at the cup, then put on a dramatically sad face,
"If I die... Remember me by this-" You held the cup up in the air, "-Very... Gross acid drink," You huffed, muttering 'cheers' before wrapping your lips around the tip of the straw and drinking. As soon as the contents hit your tongue, you squeaked, cringing at how sour it was and making a face. Usually, you were fine with sour if there was sugar there too, but this was... Purse acid. Max began to laugh hard, and you faintly heard Eddie chuckle, "God- Jesus-" You muttered to yourself,
"Good?" Max grinned as you set the cup back down,
"Delicious," You groaned, disappearing in the back quickly to grab some water, returning and drinking eagerly. At least Max thought it was hilarious,
"What's it taste like?" She asked,
"Like you... You got a million warheads and shoved them all in your mouth at once," You said, pulling the straw out and tapping it gently on the rim to get the contents out the bottom,
"Yuck," Max grinned, "How many do you usually eat?" She asked,
"I can barely get through a pack. They just make me feel like my teeth will fall out," You smiled softly, before glancing at your boyfriend, "Eddie can't even eat one," You grinned,
"Babe, stop exposing me," He hissed playfully, "I can't believe you even drunk that," He glanced at the drink, cringing,
"In that case, I think it's only fair you guys drink it too," You smirked, picking two more straws up from where you had set them down on the counter and holding them out to the two,
"Oh God, no," Max laughed, glancing at Eddie, "We are not drinking that,"
"C'mon Mayfield- you a pussy?" You teased, leaning your arm on the counter, "C'mon. Melt your tongue; melt your tongue," You grinned,
"No- I'm not gonna melt my t-"
"Nah, we gotta drink that now," Eddie said, grabbing the straws from you and handing one out to her, "It's all bloody and tongue melty," He grinned,
"Why would you willingly drink that?" Max asked, shaking her head, "And... Melt your tongue?"
"Cause it sounds badass?" He said, as if it was obvious, "C'mon, Red," He grinned,
"No- I'm not drinking that crap," She smiled,
"Suit yourself," Eddie shrugged, before sticking his straw into the juice and taking a drink, "Agh- oh God," He grumbled, reaching out to grab the water from your hands and drinking it,
"Hey!"
"Ugh- ew... That's horrid," He cringed, "Max, you truly are an evil genius," he grumbled,
"Yeah. You got a name for this horrific creation?" You smiled, "I reckon it'll be a big summer favourite," You said sarcastically,
"What about..." She mumbled,
"Death Acid!" Eddie said excitedly, seemingly recovered from the smoothie,
"Eddie, no one but you would drink something marketed as 'Death Acid'," You smiled at him,
"What about just 'Citric Acid'?" Max suggests,
"'Citric Death Acid'!" Eddie grinned, glancing from the red-head to you, "People might as well know what they're signing up for when they buy it, right?" He shrugged,
"Am I supposed to make them sign a waiver not to sue if their tongue does melt off or they die?" You laughed, "God... This really was gross- props to you Max, if I ever want a nasty drink, I'll ask for your help," You smiled,
"Thanks," She nodded,
"Well," Eddie said, standing straight, "At least there's one good thing that came from this," He announced,
"What's that?" You asked, raising your brows. What possible good could come from a disgusting sour drink?
"Your shift's over," Eddie smiled. Glancing over at the clock, you noticed it was, in fact, the end of your shift,
"Oh fuck yeah," you grinned to yourself, glancing over the fruits in the bins, "Lemme clean up quickly and we can go," You told them, turning to grab a garbage bag, "Oh! By the way, Max, are you hungry?" You asked,
"Uh, kinda?" She shrugged, "I ate breakfast before I went to town," She said. At least she was taking care of herself and leaving home more often,
"No lunch yet?" You asked as you dumped the bins out into the bag,
"No," She shook her head, "Things are too expensive," She huffed. You nodded quietly in agreement, soon finishing the cleaning,
"Gimmie a sec, I have something in the back," You tell her, briefly leaving. You throw the trash bag away before rummaging through your jacket and returning with a ziplock bag. With a smile, you extend it over the glass display for her to take,
"What's... I'm not gonna take handouts," She frowns at you. Quickly shaking your head, you shake the bag,
"It's not handouts, Max," You assure her "Sam's wife made too many cookies and he brought them into work. I already at too many so here. You can have the ones I saved," You told her, grinning as Eddie snatched the bag from you and eagerly opened it while you went to put the bins into the dishwasher,
"She makes the best cookies," Eddie assured Max, sticking one of the cookies in his mouth and moving the open bag in her direction, "C'mon!" The words were muffled by the cookie between his lips. Gingerly, she took one, smelling it before she took a bite,
"Oh wow," She murmured,
"Told you they were great," You smile to yourself as you move to clean the used blender. You'd already cleaned the others thoroughly considering the lack of customers, "His wife used to work in a bakery- a small family business out of town- before she relocated to Hawkins with Sam," You explained, "She's super talented. She made me a birthday cake once- remember that one Eddie?" You glanced at him over your shoulder, watching him grin and nod his head energetically at you. There was another half-bitten cookie in his hand, and he could only hum over the mouthful,
"First time I ever had red velvet," He said once he finished the bite, widening his eyes in dramatic effect, "Had no clue it was chocolate either. It was a wild day," He grins to himself,
"Yeah, you ate most of it," You laughed to yourself, "Then got sick and threw up red everywhere," You cringed, whipping down the counters,
"Yuck," Max cringed,
"Yeah, yuck," You nodded to yourself,
"Well it looked cool," Eddie shrugs, shoving the rest of the cookie into his mouth and reaching in the bag for another,
"It really didn't," You frown at Max as you come to clean off the glass and the counter,
"Is that your third one?" She asks Eddie, bumping hands with him as she reaches for one of the last cookies in the bag,
"No," Eddie says too quickly, grinning as Max attempts to snatch the bag from him, "Hey!" he grins, "You leave some for me!" You heard him as you disappear into the back again,
"They gave the cookies to me, Eddie!" She argued, "And you ate like... All of them!" She protests,
"Yeah, well they're my partner!" He argued back, the comment making you smile. You could hear them from the small room your jacket and bag were in, faintly arguing about the last cookie and laughing at one another. Once you removed the apron and visor, you smoothed down the work shirt and clocked out, setting your apron and visor to the side. With a sigh, you grab your bag, quickly ensuring nothing had been stolen, before reemerging from the room.
Max and Eddie had moved to the small table Eddie had been sitting at before. They both had half a cookie in their hand, and Eddie playfully tapped his against hers with a 'cheers' before eating his. Max laughed slightly, muttering a 'cheers', but before she could eat hers, he snatched it from her grip and laughed at her open-mouthed expression,
"Hey!" She exclaims, reaching across the table for it,
"Ready to go home?" Eddie asks, noticing you as you approached and holding the cookie away from her,
"You kids still arguing?" You teased, twirling the shop keys in your fingers as you moved behind the counter to turn off the coolers and overhead display lights,
"He stole the last cookie," Max complained to you, chair scraping against the tile floor as she stood,
"You were too slow!" He answers back, smirking. As you walk towards them, you hold your hand out, and he places the half in your palm. You then hand the half back to Max, earning a huff from your boyfriend, "I saved that for you, you know," He smiles as he stands too, walking from the table and pulling his own van keys out,
"Do you have any more?" Max asks from beside you,
"Not right now, Red," You tell her, whipping your crumb-covered hand on your work pants, "Grace is generous and all but she only got us two bags- the other went to Micheal. I had to hide mine just so he wouldn't eat them again," You rolled your eyes, "But I'll definitely ask for some extra's for you next time," You promised her, "Maybe I'll even score a bag all to yourself," You said as you went back to lock the register,
"Nice," She smiles,
"What about me?" Eddie asked, grabbing your hand once you joined them and pulling you to the door. He tried twirling the keys like you had, only to drop them unceremoniously,
"You ate almost all of them," Max whines,
"No I didn't," Eddie smirks, flipping the 'We're Open' sign to say 'Sorry! We're Closed' for you as you turned off the lights,
"But you did!" She argued, "I watched you eat them in front of me,"
"You have no proof, Red," He raises his brows, opening the door for you both. Max grabs the skateboard she had left leaning against the wall next to it, ducking under his arm and standing in the shelter of the roof,
"I watched you!" She protested, "That's my proof!" You laugh at their bickering, following them outside as you glance through the rain and dark clouds overhead. Your eyes quickly find Eddie's van, parked further down the street in case Sam was nearby. With a small sigh, you turned to lock the door and pull down the shutters as well, "Shit. Are we gonna have to run?" She asks, also spotting the van,
"Yeah, looks like it," You muttered, "But it's like my dad always said- you just have to run between the raindrops," You smiled to yourself,
"That's not physically possible," Max complained, "My walkman'll wet and it'll be busted... I can't afford a new one," She muttered to herself, fiddling with the device attached to her hip,
"Here!" Eddie said, removing his jacket and nodding for Max to join him, "We can hold this over our heads and make a run for it," He grinned at her, "That offers protection right?" He says, throwing the jacket over his head,
"Or you can just run to your van and drive it closer to us?" You suggest, standing closer to Max and crossing your arms,
"Yeah, that's a far better idea. Besides, what if one of us falls?" She asks, glancing up at you. You nod affirmatively,
"We leave you to die," Eddie says dramatically, cackling to himself as you roll your eyes,
"Between the three of us, I think you're the one most likely to fall," You tell him, grinning as Max laughs loudly and Eddie cast you a glare,
"Do I need to remind you that I have the keys and I could just leave you two behind?" He adjusts the leather jacket so it covers his hair,
"Eddie, you wouldn't dare leave us here," You say seriously, giving him the best glare you can, even if your smile betrays you. Something about him standing with the jacket over his head looks so strange, yet endearing to you,
"Or what? Huh? What're you gonna do?" He teases, nodding his head at you. You can't really think of anything, mind going blank as he stares down at you with his round doe eyes, creased slightly from the way he smiles. He tilts his head to the side slightly, watching you, and grinning when he notices he's captured your attention,
"We'll kick your ass," Max pipes up, holding the skateboard up. Red was inseparable with that thing, she'd never break it on purpose... Would she? Glancing back at Eddie, you catch him playfully widening his eyes
"Shit, you're not messing around, huh, Red?" He smirks, moving from you to be still sheltered under the roof, but closer to where the van is. Max sets the board back under her arm,
"Yeah," She nods as Eddie glances dramatically out into the rain,
"Am I being held hostage then?" He asks, glancing down at her with a slight smile,
"Uh, yeah," She says,
"I'm not taking any risks then," He says, before looking back towards you. You nod to the van, expectantly, but find yourself surprised as he smirks and leans closer to press a quick kiss to your lips. Max lets out a small disgusted groan, and you can almost picture her rolling her eyes. When he pulls away, his face turns serious and he gives you a small nod,
"If I don't make it, remember me as the Valiant-"
"Eddie, there's no time for big fancy speeches, just get the car!" You laugh as he glares at you for interrupting again, "Fine, fine. Go be our valiant hero," You rolled your eyes at his slight wink, before moving from the shelter and running to his van. You and Max both watch him as he runs down the street. She's about to say something when Eddie slips on the wet sidewalk, catching himself before he falls, but still yelping dramatically in the near-empty street. It was enough to echo, and make the two of you laugh loudly at the comical sight,
"That's your boyfriend you know," Max reminds you. She says it to tease you, but you smile proudly at the reminder,
"Uhuh. He sure is," You glance at her. She looks away quickly, pretending to look busy examining her skateboard, "Do you have anyone you like like that, Red?" You ask. The soft expression on her face hards as she shakes her head quickly,
"No," She said defensively. Though you give her a sceptical look, you don't push further. Glancing up, you smile again as Eddie pulls up in front of you,
"C'mon," You said, patting her shoulder and quickly running the short distance to the van. As you approach, you see Eddie leaning over to open the passenger side door for you. Hopping in, you glance over your shoulder, seeing Max in the back and hearing the door shut after her, "Thanks Eds," You smile brightly as he drives off,
"No problem- get your seatbelts on I don't wanna get pulled over," He said, a small smile on his lips as he glances in the rearview at Max,
"How responsible of you," You teased him, though clicking your seatbelt into place,
"Yeah responsible," He says sarcastically, giving you a look. Moving your legs to get comfortable, you frown as you kicked something metal. Tilting your head, you noticed the small metal case next to your bag, "Brought lunch to work today, babe," He says playfully, noticing you noticed the 'lunchbox' he stored his drugs in,
"I see why you're being extra careful now," You nod in understanding, leaning over to mess with the radio,
"Yeah! The roads are wet- there's a far larger risk of crashing when it's raining," He jokes, grinning at you,
"Of course," You rolled your eyes, turning up the Judas Priest song playing,
"You agree with me, right Max?" He asks loudly over the song, "You skate, you'll know this is dangerous,"
"Huh? Oh yeah, way more dangerous with wet roads," She nodded, "Less uh... Drag," She shrugs,
"Mhm," Eddie casts you another glance, meeting your eyes momentarily, before focusing on the road and falling quiet. It appears you were all enjoyers of the sound of rain in the car, the water pleasantly hitting the windows and rapidly cascading down the glass, obscuring the vacant streets of Hawkins from view. The rain was accompanied by the noise of the van, and Eddie's quiet hums to whatever song played now. You really couldn't focus, feeling too calm and tired from the hours spent up on your feet making smoothies. The general calmness and gentle movements of the van began to lull you to sleep. Work always had you exhausted but after sitting on the couch and drinking half a bottle of water or beer, you'd be back on your feet doing house chores. Right now, all you wanted to do was sleep, and you almost did. You could feel your eyes drooping closed and the world melting away around you...
"I have to head home- I'll see you later though!" Max yelled from behind you, jolting you out of your doze. Out of the rearview mirror, you could see her quickly grabbing her skateboard and shoving the door open,
"We'll see you later," Eddie said from beside you before she left, slamming the door and running the short distance to her trailer. You blinked, realising you were outside her trailer. You could see her unlock the door, turn to wave at you both, before disappearing inside. You lifted your hand and waved back, before yawning as Eddie started the van again, pulling away from the front of the trailers and parking the van across them in front of his, "You sleep well?" He asked, a hint of amusement in his tone, though you appreciated the gentleness of it,
"I didn't sleep at all," You admitted, rubbing your eyes tiredly and sighing as the minimal make-up you wore rubbed off on your hand. It was the truth- it hadn't felt like sleep at all. More like time travel or something, "But I think I have an idea for what we can do later,- I feel inspired," You said, glancing over at Eddie as he turned off the engine. The music was still playing at a much quieter volume than when you'd left work. He leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms above his head. His dark grey AC/DC shirt rose slightly, exposing the skin of his lower abdomen to you. Your eyes lingered on the glimpse of the dark happy trail on his abdomen and the soft v-lines leading down below his dark jeans. A soft, pleasant smile made its way onto your lips,
"Oh?" He glanced over at you with a matching smile, catching your stare. Your cheeks heated and you glanced away in embarrassment, "And what's that?" He asked, leaning forwards again and setting his chin on the arm he slung on the wheel,
"We... Should try baking cookies," You said. He snorted in amusement at your proposal, turning his head and leaning back to look in his overhead mirror so he could mess with his bangs, "What?" You asked,
"I can't believe it. After all these years, I am allowed back in the kitchen," He says dramatically, eyes falling shut. You rolled your eyes, leaning over and flicking his arm playfully. At that, he looked at you,
"Maybe I should restate- you get to watch me bake," You smile,
"Can I get baked while you bake?" he asks playfully,
"Oh my god," You laugh, "Two different types of baking?" You suggest, amused,
"Mhm- and if I get the munchies, I'll just eat the cookie dough," he grins,
"You'll get sick!" You protest, "At least wait till they're baked," You plead, reaching out your hand to him. He simply smiles, sitting up and moving his hand against yours so your palms press together. You can feel the gentle warmth of his skin against yours. It feels comforting after a long and mostly boring workday- paired with the rain pouring outside, still gently tapping against the roof of the van makes you aware of the heaviness in your eyes. And when Eddie yawns, you can't help but yawn along with him,
"Long day, mm?" He hums, shifting his fingers so they'd slot between yours and gently squeezing your hands,
"Mmmh," You hum back, gently squeezing his hand back and watching his smile widen slightly, "I'm really tired," You admit to him,
"Yeah," He sighs back, "You wanna go inside and take a nap before you get to your baking?" He asks, gesturing to his trailer visible through the front window,
"Sure," You smile, though neither of you makes an effort to move. You grin at that, letting out another heavy sigh and glancing over your shoulder at the vacant backseat, "You still got that blanket in here?" You ask,
"You wanna sleep here?" He raises his brows,
"It's raining so bad... And I don't wanna move that far," You whine, looking back at him with a small frown. He laughs to himself, before unbuckling his seatbelt and turning in his seat and glancing over the seats,
"Mmmh, gimmie a sec," He mutters to you, letting go of your hand so he can move into the back with surprising swiftness and reaching over the backseats. Soon enough, you also unbuckle your seatbelt, joining him in the back toeing off your shoes so they'd fall to the floor. As you sit next to him, waiting patiently for him to put the seats back. You glanced over at the foggy window, you smile at the small smiley face Max must have drawn on the glass. Pressing your finger to the cool glass, you draw your own smile next to hers, though add a small tongue poking out.
Before long, Eddie hands you the red blanket, finishing messing with the backseats so they'd go all the way back. When he turns back to you, he smiles at the sight of you with the blanket now draped over your head and shoulders. Silently, he reaches out to brush some hair that had fallen into your face,
"You look cute," He finally says, grinning at your bashful smile,
"And you look tired... But still pretty," You respond, grinning as he murmurs a 'thanks' and leans forward to kiss you, hand moving up to touch your cheek. It was enough to pull you from where you were leaning back to lean forward, setting a hand on his shoulder so you can be closer. His lips were soft and gentle as they moved against yours. With a small hum, you pulled away to yawn, causing him to laugh,
"Come here, sleepyhead," Eddie says to you quietly, shifting so he can lay down and stretch his legs. You lay on top of him, happily humming as his hands quickly wrap around you, moving under the blanket to draw you closer. His hands quickly tangle themselves in your hair, playing with the strands and further aiding you in falling asleep. Before you drift off, you feel his lips ghost your forehead, and his voice murmuring a gentle 'I love you'.
.
"You know I always thought you were a very kind and interesting person," The gentle vibrations of his chest rouse you from your nap. Sounds register first, considering you're still too tired to open your eyes. The rain is still pounding away outside against the van, and you can faintly hear the beating of his heart from where your head lays against his chest. 
Eddie has a very specific talent of being able to talk about everything and nothing, and yet still somehow make it entertaining to listen to- though annoying on certain occasions, it's usually pleasant, considering your brain was only starting to wake up now, 
"Even before we started hanging out so much, I thought wow... I should talk to them. Man am I glad I met you," He sighs, "You really made high school more interesting," You could make out the gentle smile in his voice. His fingers were gently running through your hair and playing with it, as his other hand gently rests on your clothed shoulder, caressing you, "And you don't even know how glad I am that you came back to me... Came back here. And believe me, I really don't mind you using me as a pillow, but I'd love to get up now," You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at his words, sleepy brain betraying you. You could listen to him talk like this forever, "How long have you been awake?" He asks, sounding more amused than annoyed. Maybe a little shocked,
"Only a couple of moments," You admit, lifting your head and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. With a tired smile that he quickly reciprocated, you leaned forward to kiss him gently, "Don't get used to me being back here. We're leaving together, remember?" You said, watching him grin. At some point a couple of weeks ago, you had a long conversation about what you were going to do in the future. You made it clear you didn't want to quit college and you knew he still had ties here in Hawkins- being the DM of Hellfire, his uncle, his band and the fact that he still had to graduate all kept him from leaving with you in August. Leaving again was inevitable for you, but you promised to call him whenever you could. 
The conversation quickly shifted to when Eddie graduates, and he quickly told you he'd want to leave with you. It shocked you, but seeing him decide to finally take charge of his life and try to do something with it made you happy. The fact that he'd be a part of your future in the first place made you happy. You'd mentioned an apartment building that was close to your college- you'd been to parties there a few times and saw a few vacant rooms on flyers. And before long, you had made plans for Eddie and you to drive up there at the end of summer and look around at the nearby available places together. It'd save you tonnes of money on a bus fare to Franklin, and you'd get to stay with him for a few more days. And you were just looking for now- nothing final... Though the idea of living with Eddie... Made you happy,
"Ahhh yes," He smiled, "We have the apartment showing uh... When again?" You hummed,
"The 26th," You reminded, "Means we have to leave around the 20th. And my semester starts on the 30th," You finished, watching him give an exaggerated nod to each statement you made, "You get to come to Franklin with me," You added with a grin, sitting up to stretch your arms over your head and let out a small sigh as the tension left your shoulders,
"Do I get to see your dorm?" Eddie asks playfully, sitting up in front of you and making sure your faces were close by,
"Mmm. If you behave," You tease, leaning forward to touch your nose to his. Before he could kiss you, you moved your head to the side, studying the window as his lips planted themselves against your cheek,
"It's still raining," You point out, glancing at the accumulated rain drops over the windows,
"Yeah, I can see," He says. You feel one of his hands moving onto your arm, gently tugging on your sleeves, "Come here," He says, and as you turn your head, his lips quickly meet yours. You relax into the kiss, though pull back too quickly for his liking. He lets out a playful groan, watching as you turned your head back to the window, 
"I wonder how much time has passed," You sigh,
"I don't care," He huffs next to you. You turn your head to look at him, surprised to find him already staring at you. As you tilt your head at him quizzically, he grins, silent as he mimics you, tilting his head to the side with a bright smile on his face. Eddie sighs again, straightening and wrapping his arms around your middle, drawing you closer to him so he could hug you tightly. He quickly buried his head in your neck so his hair tickled your skin gently,
"Yours or mine?" He asks into your skin after going quiet for a moment,
"Mine. I'm baking, remember?" You remind as he chuckles to himself,
"Right," He hums. Pulling back to look at him, you move your hand on his face, letting the pad of your thumb gently glide over his skin, delicately tracing the bags under his eyes with a pinched brow,
"Are you still tired, Eddie?" You ask him, tilting your head to kiss the other side of his face, "We've been sleeping for like-" You reach down to take hold of his hand, tilting it and your head to try and see the numbers on his watch, "-Like an hour and a half," You raise your brows, glancing back at him,
"I'm never tired," He says, interlocking your fingers together and straightening to prove it. One of his arms stays wrapped around you, while the other interlocks with yours. He brings your hand up to press a kiss to a vein on the back of your hand, swiping his thumb over the skin his lips had touched, "Remember? I don't sleep," He says playfully,
"You usually pass out at 3 am and wake up at 3 pm Eddie," You narrow your eyes,
"At least I'm consistent," He grins,
"Right. I'm so proud," You say sarcastically, squeezing his hand, "We should go now," You tell him reluctantly, letting go and moving to clamber out of the back,
"Hey," Eddie's hand grabs yours before you can open the door. When you turn your head, his wide eyes meet yours and he smiles again, "Since it's still raining, did you want to have a huge dramatic kiss in the rain?" You tilt your head a little at his proposal, a smile making its way onto your face,
"Couples usually only do that after arguments," You say, then glance towards his trailer, "We can kiss just fine in there," You smile
"Good thing we're not a usual couple," He grins, "Come on- it'll be romantic or whatever," He shrugs, almost bashfully, 
"My, my, Eddie Munson," You smile brightly, "I never took you as the romantic type," You tease, grinning as he moves closer to you so his nose touches yours, 
"I can be persuaded. With the right person," He mutters to you, quiet so only you hear. He inclines his head towards the door, nodding for you to open it. He already had your bag in his other hand, too far for you to take back from him. You'd just have to let him carry it for you. When you step out into the rain, you're immediately soaked, though you laugh softly as he keeps a tight hold on your hand so you can't book it to either of your trailers,
"Eddie come on!!" You say to him urgently, shaking his arm as he seems to take forever to get out of the van, "I'm getting soaked!"
"Not until I get that kiss," He smirks, turning to face you. His hold on your hand is tight, and your skin and clothes are drenched in water droplets, running down to your clasped fingers. Eddie's hair is quickly losing its volume and the ends are dripping onto his shoulders; his eyelashes are clumping together with water beautifully, the excess running down his cheeks like tears. The grey shirt he's wearing quickly becomes black and sticks to his chest, rising and falling rapidly as he watches you expectantly. Then he's pressing a hand against your cheek and he's leaning closer until his warm lips are against yours.
It's so much different to kissing in the shower. The clothes and the water temperature are the main and obvious differences- but you get it now. Why couples kiss in the rain like this. How kissing in the rain isn't just metaphorical pathetic fallacy to show the turbulence and disorder relationships can bring... Maybe you watch too many movies.
This kiss isn't like that. It feels refreshing. It's gentle and hard all at the same time- the rain urging you to seek shelter from the wet and the cold, but Eddie's hands and lips keep you firmly in place. Before long, your hands are moving on their own: touching his cheek; touching his neck; anything to pull him closer and seek out the warmth his tongue is pressing to your own. Where you are desperate, he is soft; gently holding you, one hand cupping your cheek while the other curls around your waist to secure you close to him.
You've kissed him plenty since your first time weeks ago, just a few feet away on the playground behind you, and they've all felt great, but if anything from your relationship was pulled straight from a fantasy, it was defiantly this. And soon enough, the world just fades away and the rain stops bothering you. Because all that matters is him. All that matters is Eddie's lips against your own. His kiss, his love for you, was more important than the rain.
When it felt like you can't breathe anymore, you pull away, lips parted and tinted pink, heavy breaths escaping between them. The ice-cold rain running down your face soothes them, dipping down over them and over your chin. His forehead finds yours, giving your face some relief from the onslaught of water droplets and a clear view of his face. More rain slides down his curls and lands on your cheeks, gliding down your face like tears. His hold on your waist tightens as he shivers slightly against you, the skin on his arms covered in goosebumps from the wind whispering around you. And when he opens his eyes to finally meet yours, with those big brown doe eyes of his, it all feels so real. It's not a fantasy. He's there and you can see it all in his eyes; the love, the adoration- all for you.
In truth, you could stay out here in the rain all day and night if it meant he could look at you like that all the time,
"That..." His words were whispery and quiet, and you could barely hear him over the rain pounding against the metal of the van and the steel roof of the trailer. If you believed hard enough, you'd think you quite literally took his breath away. It was almost as if the kiss had enchanted him as well, "Was..." He pulls away further just to look at you, eyes darting over your wet face. Now you didn't have him to shelter you from the rain, the heavier drops of water hit your head and face,
"Yeah," Your own voice seems to be gone too, having floated away somewhere with the swirling winds, or washed away with the droplets running down your skin, "Wow," You hiss, feeling his hand gently squeeze your arm. When had it moved up there? "Let's go inside- we'll catch colds," You urged, tugging him towards his trailer and pulling him under the small roof for shelter. There was a bright smile on your face despite the dreary weather surrounding you, and with a quick glance at Eddie, you could see a similar smile on his lips. You mentally kicked yourself for not kissing him like that sooner as you sought shelter in the trailer, realising you were shaking now in your soaked uniform,
"Here, let's get you something dry," He mutters, discarding his jacket on a clothing rack and nodding for you to follow him to his room and closing the door as you sat on his bed, waiting patiently,
"Can you get me a towel too?" You ask as you watch him glance through his closet, then focus on a laundry bin on the ground beneath his feet. He nods silently, and you smile at the sight of his wet hair dripping on the clothes at the top of the pile in the bin. You'd really lost track of how long you were out there just kissing. You could still feel your lips buzzing pleasantly when you pressed your fingers to them,
"Here- this'll do, right?" He smiles, throwing a Black Sabbath shirt over as he pulled out a Judas Priest one. You remove your fingers from your lips, picking up the shirt and opening your mouth to thank him. In awe, you watched as he removed the dark grey shirt, pulling a face at the wet material in his hands. You allow yourself to admire the freckles and spots on his back, along with the dip of his spine and faint, healed scratch marks on his shoulder blades, healed and only visible when they caught the light. Then all too soon, he leaves the room to likely get towels. Blinking you quickly unbutton your shirt and let it plop to the floor.
You'd have to try making out in the rain more often if it left you feeling this giddy and light afterwards,
"Here," He returns to hand you a towel, already drying his frizzy hair with one and huffing as he moves to look in the mirror hung on the wall behind his guitar, and among the myriad of posters. You let out a gentle laugh at the sight of his messy curls, drying your own hair, face and damp body, "What?" He asks in mock offence, sending you a glance,
"Your hair," You grin as he moves the towel away from his face and frowns at his reflection, "It looks funny," You tell him, before looking down at you with a mock glare,
"You tell anyone about this; you're dead, baby," He says non-threateningly as you slip his shirt over your head. He can't hold the glare, as much as he wants, a soft smile betraying his threat at the sight of you in his clothes,
"I'm terrified," You say with a yawn, handing the damp towel back to him. He doesn't take it, letting it fall to his floor and pile amongst all the other clothes he has strewn around. He briefly glances at it, kicking it away from his feet, before looking back in the reflection of the mirror. He changed shirts too, though you only notice the Slayer shirt now, the peak of the metal design showing in his reflection. 
"Mhm, good," He hums more to himself with a grin. He sighs, reaching a hand up to mess with his hair but grimacing at how much more volume there is now, "I wish I knew where my hairbrush was," He huffs, glancing down at the bedside table and messing with a few things on the surface, 
"Yeah, it'd be a miracle to find anything in this mess," You agree, standing and walking to his desk to try and find the brush. Maybe you'd have to lend him one of your own? You find yourself a little surprised to find a few hairbands on the desk, sneakily stealing one and slipping it around your wrist, 
"Hey, no. It's not mess; it's organised chaos," He smiles at his reflection, still messing with his hair, 
"Uhuh," You raise your brows with a snort, glancing to the open window. You close it, frowning at the raindrops that had filtered in and plucking the ashtray roughly balanced on the side of the windowsill so it doesn't go toppling into his room and send the ash and finished butts flying. Instead, you move and throw it in the empty trash bin by his desk, glancing over the crumpled sheets of paper surrounding the trash, "What're these?" You ask, glancing over your shoulder as you straighten, setting the empty ashtray to the side. A smile breaks over your lips to find him staring at you with wide eyes, puffy hair and parted pink lips, "You stare a lot Eds," You point out to him,
"You're fun to stare at," He tells you, "And uh... Don't look at those- I missed throwing them in. Clearly, I'm a natural athlete," He jokes, moving over to you, as you glance at the crumpled paper, "They're nothing, really. Wasted paper, right?" He grabs your hand to pull you back to him. You set a hand on his chest as he wraps around your waist, "And besides, I'm making up for all the times I've caught you staring," He tells you, dipping his head to try and kiss you. Reluctantly, you place your fingers against his lips, leaving him confused,
"I have cookies to bake," You tell in a soft, teasing voice. He rolls his eyes, straightening up and taking your wrist gently in his hand to pull it from his mouth,
"Are you free after?" He asks, tilting his head to the side curiously,
"Yeah, I don't have anything planned. Maybe I'll watch a movie?" You shrug,
"What movie?" He asks interested. You shrug again,
"I don't know- I haven't looked at my selection in a while... And I don't think I ever returned that 'Jaws' VHS back to Home Video," You glanced away from him cringing, thinking hard, "If I find it, you'll have to come with me to return it," You say with a sigh, gaze falling on to your joint hands, "Maybe Steve and Robin'll go easy on me if they see you there," Eddie snorts at that, 
"Why would they?" He asks with a slight smirk, 
"Your charming personality!" You say with a matching smirk, watching as he laughs. He's still holding on to your hand, though he's twisted your arm gently and is running his thumb back and forth over your wrist in a soft, tender motion. The action has you horrifically distracted and enamoured, so when he halts his movements, you glance up to catch him laughing, "What?" you ask obliviously,
"Am I really that distracting?" He teases as you pull your hand away, albeit reluctantly, and fold your arms, "Hey, babe come on. You were totally not listening to a word I said," He grins as you sidestep him and take a few steps towards the open door of his room,
"I was listening," You defend yourself,
"Then what did I say?" He asks, moving closer to you and watching you expectantly, brows raised and a knowing smirk on his lips. At your silence, he shakes his head, "Knew it,"
"Shut up, Munson," You say playfully, turning again to walk from the room,
"I asked-" He says quickly, halting your steps and causing you to turn. You see him stepping to his clothes-covered chair and plucking a bright red flannel shirt loosely slung over the back, "-If I take you to return it, will you let me pick the movie?" He smiles as he stops in front of you, standing almost impossibly close. If you weren't dating him and didn't know him for almost six years, you'd likely be intimidated. Though from the gentle, loving smile on his face and the way his eyes completely captivate yours, it's hard to think of him as anything other than beautiful,
"Sure," You say, causing his smile to brighten and light up his face. He leans down again, and this time you let his lips touch yours, before he pulls away and pushes the flannel into your hands, "What's this for?" You ask. He tilts his head and squints his eyes, giving you a playful once over that has your face growing hot, "What's-"
"Who are you and what have you done with the love of my life?" You laugh softly at his dramatic question, though you don't miss the way a pleasant heat spreads through your chest at the way he so proudly declares you the 'love of his life'. He straightens, taking a few careful steps back into his room, "You usually jump at the opportunity to steal my clothes," It clicks in your head,
"I only steal them when you're not looking, Eds," You confess, pulling the much larger red flannel on and walking out of his room into his living room, "If you just give them away like that it's less fun," You call to him, pulling the hair caught under the material out. Turning your head, you catch him following you,
"Right," He nods knowingly, leaning against the wall in his living room and folding his arms. You glance away from him to the unevenly stacked collection of VHS tapes by his TV, reading over the titles, "How about this," He suggests, pushing himself away from the wall and walking closer to you, "I pick out a movie and bring the snacks; you bake the cookies," He offers as if reading your mind,
"Sure," You smile, "You got popcorn?" You ask as you grab your bag, which he'd left for you on the couch,
"I'll treat you to the works, sweetheart!" He vows, moving his arms dramatically, "Candlelit dinner at your coffee table and all," He smirks as you laugh,
"Are we gonna eat cookies with knives and forks like fancy people?" You ask, and it's his turn to chuckle at your suggestion,
"If you want... Now go! As much as I hate seeing you leave, you have me excited for those damn cookies. And the longer I keep you here, the less I get to eat," You laugh again as he walks closer to you, gently placing his hands on your shoulders to push you towards the door of his trailer,
"Right- my apologies fine sir," You mock bow to him once he lets go of you, "I'll get right on it," You turn to walk out the front door of his trailer,
"Wait wait!" He quickly interrupts, crossing the short distance to you and grabbing the fronts of the flannel, pulling you in to kiss you on the lips once more. He pulls away all too quickly, an excited look on his face "Oh! By the way, I talked to Wayne about you possibly moving in for the final few weeks of your summer and possibly until you graduate," your eyes widen at the sudden mention of this,
"And...?" You ask hopefully. His face goes from serious, to bright in a manner of seconds,
"He said you're free to stay for as long as you want-" You smile brightly, matching his excitement, "He just said we can't make too much noise at night and we can't bother him too much. Or the neighbours," He winks playfully as you laugh sharply, shaking your head,
"I can make that work; I'm not a hooligan," You tell him playfully,
"Damn shame cause I am," You laugh sharply again,
"Up to all kinds of nefarious activities, Munson?" You tease, 
"Only in the dark of the night, babe." He grins back.  He presses another quick kiss to your cheek, then another to the corner of your lips, clearly excited, before patting your shoulder, "Okay now go for real because I can just keep standing here and talking your ear off about all the things that come to my head," He smiles, 
"Alright, alright. See you later," You say to him. And it's your turn to lean up and kiss his cheek, before opening the front door and braving the incessant rain, half covering yourself with the flannel and being careful of where you're running so you don't slip or trip in the mud. Once you've safely made it under the roof of your trailer, you turn to wave a hand at your boyfriend, who returns the wave from where he's been watching you. He then returns inside, and through the closed curtains, you notice his shadow moving around. As you turn to pull the keys from your bag, you glance over to Max's trailer, freezing momentarily at the sight of a familiar person standing in front of it in the rain, 
"Oh! Hey Sinclair!" You greet the boy, getting his attention, "Get inside, you'll catch a cold," You wave your arm at him as you quickly unlock your door. The boy gives a final look at Max's trailer, before reluctantly sighing and running to the shelter and warmth of your home,
"Hey," He greets you back, taking the soaked jacket off and hanging it up on your clothing hanger, accepting the hug you give him after your shut the door behind him, "I haven't seen you in forever- how's college?" He asks,
"Boring but far away from here," You smile, "How've you been? You're so tall now, oh my God," You grin, putting a hand on top of your head and measuring yourself against him with a grin, "You gotta stop growing or you won't fit through my door," He laughs at that, "What brings you here to Forest Hills?"
"It's uh..." He trailed off, his smile fading as he glances at the ground momentarily,
"If you're looking for Eddie, he's back at his trailer looking for movies for us to watch. He's also getting the popcorn and snacks and stuff and I'm gonna make cookies..." You gesture to the kitchen, "See it was gonna be like... A date? I guess? But knowing him, he probably can't decide between Texas Chainsaw or Halloween," You smile to yourself, before motioning for him to follow you to the kitchen,
"Oh, I'm not really... Looking for Eddie," He says from behind you, "I'm uh..." You glance back at him. Out of everyone in the Hellfire, and out of the Freshmen, you always saw Lucas as the most confident one- sure this has sometimes led to bad decisions being made on his part and the parties, but it was admirable to see him taking charge and initiative in those difficult situations, as well as owning up to the consequences of his actions. So when he fumbled for the right words, you grew apprehensive,
"What's up?" You ask, "You're not... In trouble or anything?" You furrow your brows as you lean on the kitchen counter, watching him expectantly, "Cause if something happened, I'll-"
"No! Not in... Like a bad way just... It's Max," He finally says with a frown, "She uh- I don't think you know her. She never came to Hellfire but she lives here now- I think I got the right house but I don't think she's home," He's fiddling with his fingers nervously, trying to glance out of the window to his left: the one that looked out on to her home. With a small frown, you lean further on the counter, trying to also see into the dark trailer, squinting to try and see any movement, "I saw her in town though today. I was going to practice and she was there skating. Then it started raining and I uh... Kept an eye out but I'm kinda worried if she uh... Made it back home?" He gives you a worried look, furrowed brows and a deep frown set on his lips, "You wouldn't have happened to see her? If she made it back okay or... You know?" He asks, the worry clear in his tone. With a small, comforting smile, you nod,
"Yeah, she's at home," You assure him, "Eddie and I gave her a ride back today so she wouldn't have to skate home in the rain. That shower kinda came out of nowhere, huh?" You say. There's some relief as he sighs, tensed shoulders going slack as he nods his head, glancing out of your window again for any sign of life. Any sign of her,
"Was she okay? Like did she act okay or fine when you saw her?" He's lighting up at just the mention of her. You tilt your head slightly as you watch him curiously, a habit you picked up from Eddie early on that the Hellfire kids would tease you about, though Lucas doesn't comment on it now, preoccupied with worry,
"I thought so. I mean, she stopped by the Shake Shack when I was closing, and I asked her to help me make a new smoothie for the summer," You recalled, "She created the 'Citric Death Acid'," You tell him, "Has to be one of the worst smoothies I've ever made in my career- and I've tried all things spinach and kale," You made a face, as he let out a breathy, yet eased laugh,
"Sounds like something she'd do," He nods his head affirmatively. There's a silence that falls over you for a few moments, and you watch as his gaze travels back to the silent trailer next to yours, eyes flicking over the visible windows,
"What's up Lucas?" You ask him, moving forward to sit on one of the seats at the table and pulling the chair next to you out, prompting him to sit with you, "Come sit down and talk," The table still looks out onto the trailer, and his gaze flicks between the seat you've pulled up for him and the lifeless trailer. With one final glance out of your window, he sits down near you, putting his elbows on the table and cupping his hands, pressing them against his mouth, "You're asking about Max a lot. Anything you wanna talk about? I'm kinda good at giving advice; just as good at listening," You offer. He gives you a side glance, before letting his hands rest against your table,
"I'm just worried for her," He admits, brows furrowing as he plays with his fingers, "I haven't seen her all summer. I haven't seen her since uh... Starcourt... And since Will left," He glances away, a faraway look crossing his eyes, "She was there when it uh... Burned down," He explains,
"Woah, she was there?" Lucas nods solemnly, "So... She saw her brother..." Lucas only nodded as your wide eyes flicked to the table. You had no idea- then again, from the newspaper archives, and small details Eddie remembered from the news, you still didn't exactly know what happened last year. Of course the moment you leave your boring home town, things kick off,
"Yeah. She hasn't... Spoken a lot about what happened since the funeral," That checked out. If you mentioned anything about last year, Max appeared to stiffen up and walk away, or simply slide her headphones on and crank her walkman's volume to full. And though you'd only mentioned it twice, judging by her reaction, she wasn't ready to talk anytime soon, "I kept calling and asking how she was doing but she'd just get annoyed and hang up on me. Or she wouldn't pick up the phone at all. And then she moved away and I kept asking if she wanted to talk or just hang out together but she always blew me off," The poor boy- he sounded so hurt and confused, yet worried for her nonetheless, "Then one day she called and..." He was emotional now, desperately trying to control himself. You nodded your head silently, giving him a moment to steady himself, "I thought she was ready to talk but she just broke up with me. And I don't know why or if it's something that I did but I just wanted to know..." He sighs, quickly whipping a tear that slipped down his cheek away and shaking his head, "If it was because of me," He finished, struggling hard to keep his voice from wavering, breaths shaky, "Cause then I could fix it and-"
"Of course, it's not your fault," You quickly tell him, reaching a hand over for him to take into yours. Shakily he unclasps his fingers, setting his palm against yours,
"But it-"
"Did she tell you that she was breaking up because of you?" You asked sternly,
"No..." He said hesitantly, "She said she... She's just breaking up with me. Like that," His shoulders slump, though he's not relaxed. Still tense and shaking slightly,
"Then it's not your fault," You assure him. You take a breath before speaking again, "I... know what losing someone like that feels like. It hurts- no matter if you were close with them or not. Losing someone like that just leaves this... Emptiness behind, "You explain softly, squeezing his hand gently, "It takes a while to get used to them being gone, and even when you do you get these... Awful, awful feelings. Why did they leave? Was it because of me? Was I the problem...?" You say quietly,
"But she knows I'm there for her," He says, looking at you with desperation in his eyes, "She knows she can talk to me and-"
"Maybe she's still grieving. Maybe she just needs space to figure things out on her own. Maybe she feels like she doesn't need anyone at the moment. Or that she... Deserves to be around anyone at the moment," You tried to explain to him,
"But that doesn't make any sense," Lucas frowns, shaking his head,
"Yeah, I know," You agree. He lets out a frustrated sigh,
"I just... I want to be there for her. I want to help her. I hate not seeing her; I hate knowing she's so sad and I can't do anything to help her. I hate that I made her mad and that she felt like she had to... Hide away, and cut me off completely. Can't she see I only want to help?" As he rambles you smile to yourself, "I- what? Why're you looking at me like that?" He asks, confused,
"That means you really love her, Sinclair," You tell him. He looks at you with wide eyes, and then glances away quickly. You could faintly see a smile on his lips, even if it was a sad one. Had he only realised this now?
"But how do I... Tell her if she doesn't want to see me?" He asks sadly, the smile fading away just as quickly as it came. With a sigh, you shut your eyes, thinking for a moment,
"You have to just... Wait," You tell him honestly, squeezing his hand once more as you open your eyes and look at him, "Wait for her until she's ready to talk to you. And when she is, you have to listen," You squeezed his hand again, "I know you want to help her with what she's going through right now, but I promise you're not doing her any favours if you just keep saying how you're there for her like a broken record. She already knows. That's likely why she kept blowing you off," You reason, "She's still in mourning. She's still not over what happened. You can't just change how she's feeling with a few kind words," You explain, "You have to sit and listen to what she's going through at the moment," He slowly nodded, "And usually people don't want the help of any kind when they're... Like that. Being present and being there to just listen; to know what's going through her head. That'll mean a hell of a lot more than flowers or chocolates," You try brightening the mood,
"Listen..." He nods, as if he's making a mental note, "But how do I get her to listen if she won't speak to me in the first place?" He frowns,
"Hmm... You do have a point," You hum softly, "I could try and... Mention that uh... Talking to someone she's close to could help her out?" You offer, seeing the small smile return to his lips,
"Could you?" He asks again, voice full of hope,
"Of course, Lucas," You smile reassuringly, "Look, I can really see you want to help her and I think it's very sweet. I'd love to help her too but well, let's face it, you've known her longer and are still, very very close. You just have to remember to listen to her and show her you're there, kid," You remind him,
"Right," He says, "Listen... You will ask her to uh... Talk to me though?" He asks, checking to be sure, 
"Yes, I will," You assure him,
"Cool," He grins, running to get his jacket and leave, "Tell her I'm waiting!"
"Hey wait!" You yell after him, standing quickly from the table, "How are you getting home?" You walk to him quickly
"On my bike," He shrugs. He places a hand on the door handle, before quickly running back to where you're standing, dazed in the living room. He hugs you tightly, and you only have enough time to pat his shoulders, "Thanks for all your help. I'm glad you came back," He says into your shoulder. Before you know it, he's back at your door, swinging it open and running and slipping on the mud outside,
"Please be careful!" You yell out to him, watching as he grabs his bike by the handles and wheels it away, "Call me when you get home!" You yell across the park, watching him wave back as he climbs onto the seat, driving out of Forest Hills, disappearing among the trees. Shutting the front door with a sigh, you glance around the vacant trailer, eyes settling on your kitchen. You were making cookies today, right?
You dug out the small notebook of recipes you had collected from various cookbooks and family members over the years, flipping through until you found the page you were looking for. A simple shortbread with an equally simple recipe- it was just down to the specific ingredients that made them special. Your aunt had made them one thanksgiving and you'd basically demanded the recipe after dessert, listening intently as you scribbled down her words onto the page. You were forever thankful- they became a comfort food to you, your dad when he was still around, and eventually to Eddie and his uncle Wayne- and besides, they tasted phenomenal.
Before you even measured out the ingredients, you moved to grab your discarded bag, shuffling through the few items and finding a cassette tape. It was a new one Eddie had made for you to take back to Franklin- 'Songs To Remember Me By', as he'd said, then pointed to the same words scrawled in ink on the front of the tape. You'd have to make him a tape of all your new favourites too- with how much time you were spending with Max, Kate Bush had entered the mix of metal and rock you usually listened to. It always made you laugh when 'Raining Blood' would end and 'Running Up That Hill' would play on your walkman. The transition from the violence to the calm was amusing. You were even setting aside a small amount of cash to buy Kate's new album, though it was still a rumour- for you and for her as a birthday gift. You just needed to find a way to find out her birthday without letting on that you wanted to get her a gift. Easier said than done- the kid was too perceptive.
Once you returned to your kitchen, you measured out the ingredients accordingly and began mixing. Always add the dry to the wets, you muttered to yourself as you sifted the flour into the wet butter mixture. Thirty minutes later, you'd rolled the dough out and smiled proudly, only to realise you didn't have any cookie cutters on hand. Mentally cursing yourself, you opened every cabinet, finding them void of the cutters. You could always just use glasses but who wants to eat boring circle-shaped cookies? You also didn't want to spend all night meticulously cutting them out with a butter knife. As you pondered over what to do, you made three bowls of icing: red; blue and yellow, though you quickly realised that was way too much icing for a single tray of cookies...  Oh God...
After cutting out three circles with a glass, you huffed in annoyance, leaving the kitchen momentarily and searching through the large box of stuff you had in the spare room- once your parent's room. You found the box of neglected Christmas things, shuffling through tinsel and ornaments before you found the box of cookie cutters and grimaced. They'd do. You didn't know what gingerbread men, snowflakes, stars and stockings had to do with summer but you'd have to make do. Maybe you could just use the stars?
By the time the cassette ended, you had set one tray in the oven and begun wondering where Eddie could be. Wasn't he supposed to be here? Did he get distracted again? And had Lucas called you at all? You glanced at the excess dough you'd formed into a ball in order to roll out flat again and glanced at the half-full tray of cookies. Of course, you always made way more than you could handle. Shit had you started the timer?
Making cookies by yourself like this was chaotic enough. At least with Eddie, it would- no, it'd likely be worse. There'd probably be more flour on either of you than in the bowl or the dough, and he'd be poking holes in the gingerbread men's faces to give them eyes and mouths. You smiled softly, though went back to wondering what was keeping him home so late. He surely hadn't forgotten right? By the time you filled all the vacant space on the second baking tray, you'd decided to try and call him, then call the Sinclairs to ask if their son made it home from practice alright. Though of course, the second your hands were clean, the timer you'd set out went off. You took out the first batch, though in your excitement, burned the unprotected top of your hand on the roof of the oven. With a sharp wince, you set your hand under cold water, frowning at the burn. Surely a couple more minutes in the oven wouldn't hurt?
Once you'd grabbed the first aid kit to apply burn ointment to the blistering wound, you gave yourself a moment to let the pain ease off. Delicately, you bandaged your hand, only to quickly remember the cookies were still in the oven. You were more careful removing them this time, setting the hot tray onto the stovetop. They were more golden brown than golden but they'd do... You set the second tray inside and set the timer, then moved back to the dough abandoned on the counter. You looked at it for a moment, before you curiously broke off a piece to try it. It tasted great, and to distract yourself from eating more, you decided to roll it out and make another batch.
Once the ingredients are mixed and the new ball of dough is formed, you flour up the counter and place it on the surface. The tray on the stovetop is cool enough for you to touch and you've moved the cookies onto a cooling rack to cool. As you move back to where you were, you glance up, your eyes drifting out of your window to Max's trailer, eyes widening slightly as you see her. Her pale face staring at you, eyes going wide when yours meet hers. You almost drop the tray that's in your hands, not expecting to see her there. You set the tray down carefully and move to the window, squinting around the raindrops at the words she's mouthing. 'Can', she points to herself, 'I', she points to your trailer, 'come over?'. You quickly nod, watching as she disappears in confusion. It takes you a moment to register what happened, but when you do, you find yourself running to your front door and opening it. She's outside, still hastily putting her jacket on when you glance in her direction at the other trailer. Aggressively, she shuts the door behind her and casts you a glance, nodding her head as a silent 'thanks' as she tugs her hood on and crosses the short distance to your trailer.
You step out of her way as she enters, another small 'thanks' hissed under her breath as she steps inside. You shut the door behind her, though take one last glance outside. You don't see her mother waving her off, nor do you see any movement coming from the Munson trailer. Wayne's car is gone though. With a slightly confused frown, you turn to look at Max. She's removed her wet jacket and is looking around for where to put it,
"You can just throw it on the couch. I don't mind- it's just water anyway, right? It'll evaporate," You give her a slight smile. She nods, giving you a brief smile, and throwing the jacket on the back of the couch as you'd allowed her to. You make your way to the kitchen, picking up the formed cookies and carefully setting them in rows on the tray, "May I ask what brings you here?" You voice your curiosities, glancing at her as you finish up with the tray,
"I uh... Had an argument with my mom," The words make your heart clench in familiar pain, your hands fumbling with the final few cookies as you sink your teeth into the inside of your cheek, "Thought I'd seek comfort here," She mumbles, walking to the opposite side of the counter so she can observe your methodical actions. Briefly you leave her, setting the full tray into the oven. careful to not burn yourself like last time. You start on the final batch of cookies, and considering this is the third, you hardly need to glance at the recipe to know the measurements.
Her words tumble through your brain, bringing up memories from when you were younger- younger than her. How your parents would yell at one another over the music blaring from your headphones in the other room on cold evenings like this. How your mother would burst into your room, screaming about a chore you hadn't done correctly and calling you all the names she could think of. How if it got too much, your father would give you a knowing look and you'd flee from her, disappearing into the forest and not returning till the streetlights turned on. If you were lucky, she'd be passed out in front of the TV, lit cigarette placed safely into an ashtray or dangerously teetering on the edge of falling from her relaxed fingers, ash falling onto the rug below. If you were even luckier, she wouldn't be home at all, gone drinking at the bar or to her friend's house. If you were unlucky, she'd be infuriated that you came home so late. And not even your father could save you from her wrath then...
When she left, it was like a weight had been lifted off your chest, but a spike had been driven through your heart. The week before had been... Calm. You'd found it odd- considering how she wouldn't raise her voice, or hand, how she'd laugh, a shrill, foreign thing, at the television. How friendly and warm she was. She even bought you that AC/DC cassette you'd asked about a while ago. How she got the money, you'd never come to find out. The night before she left, she'd come into your room, crying at the foot of your bed and babbling incoherently some apology. When she hugged you, she reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, as usual. The following morning, she took off and never came back. Never bothered to call, or send a postcard, even if your number and address had stayed the same. It was bittersweet. In her final week, she had been more of a mother to you than in the eleven years she had raised you-
"Hello?" Max clicked her fingers in front of you, frowning softly at your blank expression, "I asked if I could change the music," You blinked at her face, coming back to the present, and nodding,
"Yeah, yeah. Sorry- hah. I get uh... Lost in the baking," You smile at her, glancing at the scoop of flour you were still holding above the sifter,
"You froze and stared at the recipe book for like, ten minutes," Max tells you in a flat tone, messing with your radio. She clicks a few buttons, ejecting Eddie's tape and letting Madonna fill the silent space in the trailer. You go back to baking, though when you glanced back at her, you find she's rifling through your tapes, "You only have old stuff here," She complains,
"They're my dads," You explain, "He liked his classics," You shrug,
"This is only Beatles," She grimaces, pulling a tape out to scowl at John Lennon's face,
"Well, we have the radio," You shrug, glancing up at her before you mix the ingredients together, "Or you could look through my personal collection in my room," You offer, "It's the door at the end of the hall," You tell her, watching as she nods and disappears for a moment.
You can hear the tapping of the plastic tapes against one another in the distance, and find yourself humming along to 'Manic Monday' when it plays through the speakers. Like clockwork, you dust some flour onto the counter and grab the rolling pin to roll out the dough. By the time you've filled half the vacant tray with cookies, she emerges, holding two tapes,
"Did Eddie make you these?" She asks in amusement, taking her place in front of you, across the counter and holding up the tapes. They're different in appearance- the one in her right hand is decorated with black lightning bolts, 'Metal Metal Metal' roughly scrawled on the front, with a deep, blood red background. The other is blank with just the number '82 in the corner,
"He made that one," You gesture to the one he's holding on the right, "Damn- '83," You smile fondly, "That's got some good ones on it. Heard of Venom?" She shakes her head, "Iron Maiden? Judas Priest?" You frown as she continues to shake her head, "Why don't you keep that and listen to some real music," You say playfully,
"Ugh, you sound just like Eddie," You frown. Personally, you wouldn't consider that a bad thing, "What about this one?" She asks, "82?"
"That's just uh... Like regular music?" You shrug, "It's what I used to listen to. It's-"
"Is it normal?" She asks,
"Well, yeah I guess. Pop music," She moves to the radio and removes the tape that had been in there, putting it in, "TOTO?" She asks, amused, as she set the other tape amongst your late fathers,
"Listen 'Rosanna' is phenomenal and I won't slander TOTO in my trailer," You threaten playfully, smiling at her. She rolls her eyes, standing in front of you again and falling quiet as she watches you work away,
"Why are you baking?" She asks,
"Because I wanted to. I have nothing better to do so... Cookies," You shrug, "And you seemed to enjoy the ones this morning- along with Eddie. I was hoping you'd save me at least one. This way, I can give them out and still keep some for myself," You tell her,
"Cool... Will I get any?" She asks hopefully. You glance up at her after setting another down in the tray, narrowing your eyes playfully, "Okay, wow," She rolls her eyes again,
"I'm only kidding. You can have some if you help me decorate after," You assure her quickly, "I made like, way too much icing so I have to make way too many cookies to compensate," You let her know. She nods with a slight smile, but falls quiet again as she watches you work. Finally, she breaks the quiet between you, saying your name, "Hmm?"
"I haven't seen you here before now. When we moved into the trailer park, they told us that no one lived in the house next door," Max explained, "Where... Were you?"
"I'm in college upstate in Franklin," You explain, "I live in the dorms there and uh... It's too expensive for me to keep driving back and forth so... I live up there,"
"Are you older than Eddie?" She asked,
"Only by a couple of months," You smile, "But no. We're the same age,"
"So how come he's... Here?" She frowned softly, "He goes to high school and you're..."
"Yeah," You sigh, "So, uhm... Eddie hasn't graduated yet," You say quietly, "But when he does, we're planning on leaving Hawkins," You say with a hopeful smile, "We were actually talking about it a few weeks ago- we're gonna drive up to Franklin at some point later in the summer to go look at any apartments that might be free," You nodded your head,
"So you'll be leaving again?" She asks, tone harsh and almost accusatory as you set this tray into the oven. A part of you thought it was a bad idea to tell her, though you personally knew the pain that came with the people who left your life so suddenly... Your mother; your father. And the idea of putting Maxthrough that? After she's been through so much already? You just couldn't. It was better to tell her now,
"In a few weeks, yeah," You say softly, "My semester starts fairly late into August so I'm lucky. My classes start on the 30th, so we'll leave a little earlier than that to check out the places. I can't exactly drop out now. And whether he likes it or not, Eddie's gonna have to graduate one day- next year hopefully," You say though your smile fades at the sight of the frown set on her thin lips,
"Right," She spits shortly, glancing away from you,
"What's up?" You ask, setting the timer you've just wound up for 20 minutes down on the counter and eyeing her,
"Nothing!" She exclaims, though you shake your head as she groans in frustration and moves away from the counter, going to grab her jacket again,
"Well, it's clearly something!" You match her tone, frowning from where you stand, "Or else you wouldn't be short with me and avoiding answers," With an annoyed huff, she throws the wet jacket carelessly back onto your couch, clenching and unclenching her hand into a fist, "What's wrong Max-"
"It's just that I don't think I'm ready for the first friends I've made here to leave me so soon-" She rambles frantically, half turning so you can see her eyes are shining and quickly welling with tears, "-Or the fact that I'm still not okay with my shitty step brother being fucking dead while I'm still here and-"
"Max," You say quickly, stopping her rant so she can breathe. You walk closer to her as she breathes heavily, trying to get some sort of oxygen into her lungs before she lets out a groan of frustration and crumples in on herself, sobs leaving her lips, "Max, hey," You crouch next to her, reaching out a hand, "You're okay," You reassure her, watching as she sits with her back against the couch, shoulders shaking as she cries,
"It's not-"
"Hush," You say, "You focus on breathing and only breathing. I'm gonna touch your shoulder, okay?" You reach out to place a hand on her trembling form, "You're alright," You reassure her again, "If you're worried about Eddie and me leaving then don't be- we'll come back," You reassured her, "And it's not like we'll be gone forever; we'll always come and visit Hawkins again- as much as we hate this town, it's home to Eddie and to me. Eddie has his uncle and his Hellfire club and well, I have Eddie," You say with a shrug, "I'll go where he goes," You vouch,
"But you're still leaving," She sniffles, glancing up at you from where she's tightly hugging her knees to her chest,
"At the end of August," You say, "The month's just started. We still have all this time," You remind her, frowning as she shakes her head,
"You'll still be gone," She says, ducking her head so her forehead touches her knees,
"It's not good to think like that, you know," You tell her, gently squeezing her shoulder. You shift so you're sitting cross-legged in front of her, "You're only focusing on the negative and the end result. Of course, you can acknowledge it and the fact that we will leave at some point... But what's gonna happen between then and now? Are you just gonna spend the whole time sulking because two people you know are going away?" You ask softly. As she looks up, her expression softens. She's no longer having trouble breathing, but she's still shaking,
"I don't want you to leave like he did..." She admits tearfully, "Because when he... It was so quick- I didn't have time to think and then... Without warning..." You don't want to say it- his name- in fear she'll start hyperventilating again. You simply nod your head in silent acknowledgement, letting the quiet- filled only by the ticking of the timer, the quiet Tears For Fears song playing on the radio, and the gentle taps of the rain against your roof- fall over the two of you thickly.
From the small number of interactions you had with Billy Hargrove at school, you painted him out to be just another cocky asshole. You truly had no idea what all those girls saw in him, fawning over him like he was fucking Tom Cruise or whatever- he seemed unabashedly cruel to you. Of course, you were used to the jeers and name-calling, along with the general glares and stares of disapproval from your classmates but to say Billy made your life hell was an understatement.
For a few weeks in junior year, it seemed like the fucker had a personal vendetta against you, going out of his way to shove you into nearby lockers, leaving you with deep bruises on your arms and bile rising in your throat at the idea of running into him in the halls. Whenever you'd try and bring it up to your sickly father, he'd only croack the same words: "he's only doing it because he likes you." He wasn't. You were sure if looks could kill, you'd be dead the second Billy set his eyes on you. And you only hoped your glares would kill him too.
You'd never truly come to know the reason behind his torment- or why it led the other students at Hawkins to do the same. Junior year was horrific- it felt like nowhere in school was safe. Most of the days, you'd want to stay in bed, hoping it would swallow you whole and let you be in peace in dreamland. Being with Eddie was your only escape most of the time, though you never opened up to him about the depth of Billy's... Treatment of you until winter.
It all came out after a final shift on a cold December day, a year before you'd planned to go to college. You had locked up and were slipping on your gloves when he appeared, seemingly out of nowhere with Tommy H at his side. You'd tried running through the snow and ice but tripped, hurting your ankle. You'd forever be grateful for that dog walker who slowed to inspect the noise coming from the alley next to the store, finding you screaming into their hands slapped over your mouth for mercy. They left you there, getting away of course, while the kind person helped walk you home, fretting over the large cut splitting across your lip and forehead. Eddie had seen you the second you entered Forest Hills and ushered you inside his trailer. Before he could even demand to know what had happened, you were sobbing and breaking down in his arms about that evening.
You wondered what sort of relationship Max and Billy had. Was he different around her and her family? Or was she a subject to his torment as well? It was hard to tell- with how she'd look off with a blank look whenever Eddie played Metallica, or flinch in the car if he got too excited about a particular part of a song and tap the steering wheel too hard. It always broke you seeing her shut down- from how happy you'd been making her this past month, seeing her so upset about someone seemingly so awful was hard to watch,
"Since Billy... Left... It hasn't been the same," Max admits. She's much quieter now, and although her breaths are still shaky, they're even. She glances up at you with a small sniffle, shaking her head, "It's been making me realise a lot of things," She says quietly,
"Hey- here," You say, taking her hands in yours and helping her stand up, "Let me get you some water," You tell her gently, moving to the kitchen so you can get her a glass. You were content with her staying there, or moving to the couch, but you're surprised when out of the corner of your eye, you watch her follow after you, "I was gonna bring it to you," You tell her, filling the glass in the sink and handing it over. She quickly drinks as you watch, then move to sit down, back pressed against the shelves, thinking in silence. When she finishes the contents of the glass, you hear the gentle clink of it against your counter, and you're surprised when she takes a seat beside you, arm touching yours, "What have you been realising, Max?" You ask, resuming your earlier conversation. It's her turn to be quiet for a few moments, and glancing over at her, you notice she's just staring at her fingers, picking at the skin around her nails, "I know it's hard to speak about things like this and uh... You don't have to say anything-"
"I think I realised the reason I don't want to see you or Eddie go," She admits, giving you a glance, before focusing on her hands again. You regard her with a look of curiosity, waiting for her to carry on,
"And that is?" You prompt softly when you get too impatient. With a deep sigh, she ruffles a hand through her long, ginger hair. The ends are slightly damp from the rain,
"I realised I see you guys as my family now," It's a whisper; she says it like a secret, new tears welling in her eyes. In truth, you are too taken aback by her sudden confession to think of a response, "-You've been taking care of me. Feeding me, spending time here and away from here with me. And Eddie? He's... Showing me what a big brother could really be like," She says fondly, though the tears have now built up and are spilling down her cheeks at a rapid pace, "And I can't see you leave again," 
"We're... It-" She doesn't seem to want to listen to you, shaking her head as she continues on,
"I hate that sometimes I expect him to be just like Billy, you know? I mean, he listens to the same songs he did but that's... It," She shrugs, "Eddie's never yelled at me, never thrown anything. And, I mean, 'Red' is a far better nickname than 'Shit head'," She laughs through the heavy tears, "He's just... He... I don't want him to go," She tearfully admits, "He's more of a brother to me than Billy ever was. He fixes my tapes, he fixed my board. And you?" She sniffles, looking up at you, "I mean you care about me more than my mom does," You seem to have collected your thoughts and find your voice as she goes quiet again,
"That can't be true," You quickly try and defend,
"I bet you any money she's passed out on the couch watching reruns of the Golden Girls. She doesn't even know I left to be here," She tells you,
"Oh, Max..." You carefully move your arms around her to hug her. She's quick to hug you back; arms wrapping around yours tightly,
"Home's awful... Everywhere is just... Just so awful... You guys make it not... Not so bad," She sniffles, face pressing into your shoulder, "And I'm scared for what'll happen when you go. I'm scared that it'll get worse and... That things will always be this way," 
Without you realising, somehow a familial bond had tied you to Max. She was the little sister you never had but got anyways- and if it came down to it, you'd go to hell and back for her. You let her cry for a few moments, soothing her as best as you could with gentle touches to her back as you formulate some sophisticated, grown-up advice in your head. When you finally speak, you make sure you're soft and reassuring,
"Everything has to grow and change, Max. It's like the seasons- spring doesn't wait for winter's snow to melt before it lets the flowers bloom. They just move on around us, and we have to move with them. We can't just stay frozen in place; we have to grow and bloom and live our lives," You explain, "And though that might change, and we might change- we'll still be there for you. You've got us now. Here. In the present," You reassure her, "And even when I'm up in Franklin, Eddie's staying behind so you can pester and bother him while I'm gone," You say with a slight smile, "I'll write back to you. Call you. Keep in touch," You assure her, "It'll work out. You'll see," You gently rub her arm,
"Sure..." She doesn't sound convinced,
"Yeah. And hell, maybe once Eds and I are settled in up there you could come and visit?" You smile as she turns to face you, "You'll likely have your licence by then so you can just drive up, right? Hang out away from home and then drive back when you're ready," You smile, "Point is, I think you're might be stuck with us for life, Red. No matter where it takes you, you'll always have us," You remind her,
"It uh... That doesn't sound too bad," She smiles fondly at that, tightening her hold on to your arms as you hug her back tightly, "You're gonna crush me," She laughs your name out as you relax your hold on her, though her arms refuse to leave yours,
"Sorry," You say, sighing and glancing at the oven behind you. The cookies there have risen, but from the timer, you still see they have a few minutes until they're finished, "See, it is good talking about your problems like this," You look back at her to catch her looking at the cabinets across from her. She sighs heavily, her head falling to your shoulder,
"Talking sucks," She lifts a hand up to rub her face dry of tears,
"With the wrong people it can," You agree, "That's why you have to find someone you trust completely and that you can rely on," A small frown crosses her face, "Someone... Like Lucas," You suggest. Her gaze snaps to yours quickly,
"How did you- I never told-"
"He was here a few hours ago," You tell her, "You left the poor boy just standing out in the rain," You frown softly,
"I don't want him here," She says flatly,
"Why not?"
"Because we broke up," She tells you,
"Did you want to break up with him?" Max opens her mouth, stutters, shuts it and shakes her head slowly, "Then why did you?" You ask. She's speechless for a while, pale blue eyes darting around as she searches for an answer, "Did-"
"I guess I... I just got overwhelmed with how much he was... Around," She shrugs, "Even before my mom and I moved out here, he was just there. Talking and trying to get me to talk when it was all still so fresh. And I thought if I didn't think about... Billy and what happened last summer, I'd feel better. But Lucas kept bringing it up and it got too much for me," Tears slip quickly down her cheeks, "And breaking up was the only way to get out of that. I thought that he'd... It would make him go away. Leave me alone,"
"Are you sure that that was the right choice?" Once again, she doesn't know what to say, "Is this what you want?" You ask softly. Her mouth gapes before she shakes her head and looks away from you,
"I don't know... What I want..." She finally whispers,
"Do you want to be away from Lucas?" You ask,
"I... Don't," She says, turning her head to glance at you,
"You have to talk to him then," You tell her,
"I can't," She says quickly,
"Look, if you don't talk about it, those bad feelings'll just get worse and worse. Like a snowball running down a hill," You explain. She snorts slightly, an involuntary smile tugging at her lips. You smile slightly at her, "And not even Kate Bush'll be able to save you then, Max," You say as she wipes at her face again,
"Yeah," She breathes. She turns serious again, shaking her head slightly, "But the... What if I never want to talk about it? Even with Lucas?" She asks softly,
"Then you don't have to," You assure her quickly, "You've only got to tell him what... You want him to know. Everything else can wait until you're ready," You tell her softly. You gently brush her hair so it lays against her back, over her shoulder. With a deep sigh, you glance at the floor, "Look... When my dad passed, I couldn't... Physically come back here," You gestured around your trailer, "Too many memories of him stayed behind. I stayed with Eddie and his uncle for the week after and then when I got back... And it was like I couldn't leave. Like this became a prison. I didn't speak to anyone, didn't go to school. I couldn't get out of bed, didn't want to look after myself..." You explain quietly, "I uh... Almost gave up. I felt so alone. Eddie uh... Helped me a lot. It was kinda weird- him bringing me food and coming in to take care of me... Y'know, ask if I'm okay, sit with me. It really felt like he wanted me to... Feel better," You smile at the bittersweet memories,
"Yeah, well I don't need Lucas running around me all... Gross and stuff," She sighed, hugging her knees to her chest. With a grimace, you sat back,
"Sometimes you gotta get all the gross stuff out though. When you feel like you have to throw up, you gotta vom," You smiled slightly at the look of disgust that momentarily crossed her face, "Yeah, I know... So just... Tell him. Be honest with him- get help, even if it is just talking and the other person listening," You encourage her, "You know him more than us and you said you dated," You say. Her shoulders move as she sighs, shaking her head, "Too soon?"
"Mhm," She hums, eyes shutting quickly,
"That's fine, Max," You pat the hand she has resting on her knee, "Just... You know. When you do feel ready; talk," You said, before your words are interrupted by the ringing of the time. You linger with her for a moment, before standing and turning the timer off, before grabbing the oven mitts to take out cookies. Shuffles came from behind you indicating she had finally gotten up as you set the tray on the counter and turned the oven off, done baking for the day. Removing the gloves, you heard your name in her quiet voice, "Yeah?" You ask with a glance over your shoulder,
"Does it get easier...?" She asks you so quietly you almost can't hear her. Once you managed to process her words, your shoulders slump as you exhale, holding your hand out for her to take. You gently squeezed her fingers in silent comfort. Her eyes don't meet yours,
"Eventually," You admit, "It can take a long time. It hurts. Sometimes it hurts so much you can't... You don't feel like it will get any better, or easier," You said honestly, "But then... When you go and talk about it with those you... Care about-" You glanced briefly to the living room window, heard the loud shutting of Eddie's trailer door, the blurry image of him running down the few steps and making his way through the rain. A small smile grazed your lips as you gave her hand a final squeeze, "-And spend time with them, it gets much, much easier," You assure her. Letting go, you ruffle up her hair and run to your front door, opening it just as Eddie makes his way up the few steps. With a sharp yelp, he slips on the wet floor, reaching out for you. Eyes widening, you reach back to him, gripping his forearm tightly and steadying him with a small laugh, "Be careful, Eds! Jesus Christ," You grin as you, pull him inside and shut the door. In his rush to get to your place, he forgot a jacket and is standing soaking wet, setting a bag he brought along down with a heavy thud,
"Holy shit," He laughs, grinning down at you, "Sorry I ran a little late- got distracted," He simply says, 
"Uhuh, I figured," You say amused, glancing over his wet hair and shirt. A mischievous look crosses his face and your eyes grow wide in realisation,
"Eddie, no don't-" You let out a sharp screech when he starts shaking his head like a wet dog, droplets of water that had been stuck in his hair showering over your face as you miserably try and shield yourself with your hands. Laughing once he was done, he grabs you by the arm, pulling it away from your face and kissing your head gently, "I didn't appreciate that," You huff, twisting your arm out of his grip and shaking your head at Max, who gives you an amused look,
"I'm just helping you shower," He said playfully, glancing into your trailer and spotting the red-head, "What's up, Max? You heard about the cookies?" He asks, picking the bag up only to set it closer to your couch, walking past you and joining her in the kitchen, "Are they ready?" He asks, a slight bounce to his step as he stands by the counter, glancing at the rows of undecorated cookies and licking his lips as he glances at you, 
"Well, we still have to decorate them- no one wants to eat lame undecorated cookies," You walk toward the two, noticing the slight smile Max has on her lips, 
"Have you not tried one?" She asks, reaching out to touch a cookie resting on the cooling rack, checking the temperature,
"I tried a bit of the dough. It's good- what?" You ask, glancing at Eddie who snorts, reaching next to Max and sniffing the cookie, before looking at you, narrowing his eyes back at your accusatory look, 
"So I can't eat the raw cookie dough but you can?" He smirks, biting the head off of a ginger- well... Shortbread man, 
"If you didn't take ten years to get here, maybe you could have eaten them earlier," You say, resting your arms across from the two of them as they eat the cookies. Eddie hums, finishing his cookie and glancing at Max,
"I thought they'd be chocolate chip," She says, glancing at Eddie, who nods, already chewing on another, 
"Mmmh- me too," He says, glancing at you as you roll your eyes, 
"Sadly, I don't have any chocolate left. If I remember correctly, someone-" You send a playfully glance at Eddie, "-ate it,"
"I have no clue what you're talking about, sweetheart," He winks, "But hey! You did a great job on these- they're so good," He smiles, reaching for yet another, 
"Mhm. So good," Max echoes, reaching for a second one. You smile to yourself proudly, before reaching out and slapping Eddie's hand away as he tries grabbing another,
"Since I made them, you two get to decorate them. Stop eating, or I'll have none left," You tell Eddie, moving to join them in the kitchen and pulling the bowls from the fridge, "Max, can you help?" You ask, pulling out a few zip lock bags as she sets the cookie she was eating aside and joins you, "Just hold the bag open. Frankly, I trust you more than him," You incline your head towards Eddie, who's holding at least three cookies in his hands and chewing on another. If you don't hurry up, he'll move on to the next tray, "You wanna hear about the time he almost burned my trailer down pouring himself a glass of water?" You grinned at the dumbfounded look Max gives you, casting Eddie a shocked look,
"Are you serious...?" She asks with a grin, closing the bag as you instruct and holding open another. Eddie moves so he could observe you, rolling his eyes,
"It was one time, I apologised, and I know not to go in here anymore," He gestures to where you and Max are standing, grabbing a cookie which you promptly snatched back from his hands, "Hey!"
"Stop eating them all!" You chastise, "Max, you watch him. Don't let him eat anymore," You told the girl. As you briefly turn to grab a pair of scissors, Eddie swipes the cookie back up with an amused smirk, splitting it in two and handing the other half to Max. He winks at her, pressing a finger to his lips before eagerly eating the cookie, "Hey!" You huff, seeing the two sharing the cookie,
"In our defence, they're so good," Eddie grins, mouth still full,
"Mhm!" Max hums eagerly,
"God, you guys are so impatient," You roll your eyes, handing a piping bag of blue icing to Max, before turning to your boyfriend, "What colour do you want Eddie?" It was almost pointless to ask. Knowing him, he'd ask for-
"Red!" He grins, as predicted,
"You know, this looks more pink than red," You say, though hand over the pinky-red mixture, cutting off the corner so he can pipe the icing at him,
"Nah," He moves close to you, "It looks like blood- can I have a plate?" He asks, watching as you take one from the drying rack and dry it off with a cloth. He shifts behind you, pulling a hair tie off his wrist, gently gathering your hair behind you, loosely putting it into a ponytail for you, "Thanks!" He says excitedly, snatching the plate and setting it down with a clatter, loading cookies onto it and beginning to break them apart,
"Eddie!" You scold, walking over to him and looking concerned at the shortbread men he's ripping the legs off and glueing back together with pink, "Your hair," You muttered, looking down as he licks some icing that's getting on his fingers and holding his hand out for you. You glance at the hair tie you'd stolen earlier, standing on your tiptoes to pull it away from his face, "What even are you doing?" You ask, glancing down over his shoulder as he shrugs, 
"General massacre. The story'll come to me," He mutters, turning to you as you pull away from him and kissing your cheek, "Thanks babe," He smiles, going back to his creations,
"Right... What about you Max?" You ask, though before you can answer your phone rings. Holding up a finger, you hastily move over to it. Lucas' voice yelling your name almost blows your eardrum out, "Jesus Sinclair, I can fucking hear you fine," You huff, leaning a shoulder against the wall, 
"Sorry I didn't call earlier- my mom was pissed off I didn't come back from practice as soon as it started raining and Erica was being a little shit," He scoffs. Glancing over your shoulder, you see Max staring at you with a frown, "Have you spoken to Max? Or seen her?" You motion for her to join you, though she shakes her head profusely. Eddie frowns softly, glancing from you to Max with a confused look, 
"Why don't you want to go?" You faintly hear Eddie whispering to her, and she shakes her head again, 
"I just... I can't," She hisses, giving you a pleading look. You press the receiver to your chest as you fix her a look, frowning, 
"You need to talk to him at some point," You whisper, watching as she glances at the cookies, 
"They'll still be there when you're done," Eddie tells her, giving her a small nod and reassuring smile, "Go. Don't keep them waiting," He gestures to you as you press the receiver back to your ear, hearing Lucas repeating your name and a few 'hello's',
"I'm here, Lucas," You let him now, "Sorry, just uh... I had to let Eddie inside," You cover, turning back around, "Look, with Max she-" Your name leaves her lips now. She's standing behind you, glancing briefly at the phone, before giving you a nod, 
"Now or never, right?" She murmurs as you pat her shoulder, "You... Won't listen in right?" She asks to be sure, 
"Eddie can be pretty distracting," You whisper with a smirk as she groans softly. She reaches out for the phone, "Hey Lucas?" You check, making sure he's still there, "You know, I actually have her here for you," You tell him,
"Really?" He sounds so hopeful and excited. You nod, giving Max one last reassuring smile, 
"Mhm- just please make sure you listen to what she has to say to you, okay?" 
"Yeah! Yeah of course!" He says, and you hear some shuffling over the line. Handing the phone to her, you pat her shoulder once and mutter a good luck, before leaving her alone to join Eddie. He's holding the blue icing bag now, the shortbread men set on the counter beside him as he draws peaked mountain-like waves across the plate, 
"Sinclair and our Mayfield, huh?" He hums to you, noticing you standing next to him. You open your mouth to answer the question, though quickly become distracted. Usually, you found his hands distracting for... Other reasons. Now you find them distracted because he's piping it directly over the empty plate, 
"Eds... Eddie, babe," You gently touched his arm as he got too focused and doesn't seem to hear you, "See, the thing is you're supposed to put the icing on the cookies. Not the plate," You remind him,
"But then the scene won't make sense," He says, glancing at you before returning to what he was doing. You frown at the peaks he's drawing, tilting your head,
"Mhm- are those mountains or waves?" You ask with a slight frown, trying to decipher the plate, 
"Waves, clearly?" He asks as if it was obvious, "Why would mountains be blue?"
"Because blue, yellow and red are the only colours of icing I have?" You smile, glancing up at him,
"But it's clearly waves," He mutters, focused on what he's creating, 
"Why the waves?" You watch him grin, 
"Ocean massacre-" He says nonchalantly, "Max and Lucas?" He asks again, stopping his movements and looking at you expectantly, 
"Oh, right," You nod, "They've got some uh... Relationship stuff to figure out, you know? He stopped by earlier and I let him in because she didn't," You explain, 
"Oh so you've been busy busy," He says, watching you, "Are they okay? How bad did he fuck up?" He grimaces, 
"Not that much, actually. I don't think he fucked up at all- he just wants her back and she's uh... Still hurting," You explain, "Not because of anything he did just... You know- Starcourt?" You whisper, watching as he nods, 
"Right... You'll need to explain later," He says, glancing over your shoulder as he hears Max mutter a goodbye and join you, standing opposite Eddie and going back to decorating her cookies in silence. Feeling your stares, she looks at you both, 
"Is there something on my face?" She asks the two of you, 
"No- how was your call?" Eddie asks, watching as she rolls her eyes, 
"Please don't tell everyone my business," She asks you, to which you nod, "If... You have to know, I uh... Asked Lucas to come over tomorrow, since it's raining," She says, looking back at the cookies when you smile, 
"Good," You simply tell her, giving her a nod,
"What're you decorating Max?" Eddie asks, swiftly changing the topic,
"Why'd you make gingerbread and snowflakes if it's summer?" She asks you, shoulders relaxing at the topic shift,
"Uhhh I don't have any other cookie cutters?" You said, looking up at Eddie and tucking a stray curl behind his ear, "Besides, Christmas can be whenever, right?" You smile as she chuckles, shaking her head, 
"Not really," She mumbles, 
"What're you doing though?" You ask, looking over the counter at her work, "It looks much nicer and uh... More tame than Eddie's," You smile, glancing over as he finishes with the blue,
"Mine's exciting and it's a story so I get bonus points," He says, more to himself as he grabs a broken shortbread man torso, sticking it amongst the blue, 
"Bonus points from who?" Max asks; though Eddie doesn't seem to hear her, too focused on setting up his massacre, tongue poking out the side and leaning over the plate,
"So?" You look back at her, nodding to her cookies. She shrugs, drawing blue eyes and a blue mouth onto her shortbread man's face, 
"I'm just kinda doing... Normal things," She shrugs,
"Add some blood!" Eddie prompts, handing over the pink icing,
"I'll give my gingerbread men cute bows," She teases,
"Well, those bows are made out of blood so..." Eddie grins, "You planning on making mini-Carrie's?" He asks. Glancing up at Max, a soft smile crosses her lips at the reference, and a look of longing crosses her face. She looks over at Eddie's plate, observing him as he's setting the sweet corpses amongst the waves,
"You should add sharks. Make it look like something from 'Jaws'," Both your and Eddie's faces light up at the mention of the film,
"You've seen 'Jaws'?" You ask her surprised,
"That's such a great idea!" Eddie grins, glancing over the assortment of undecorated cookies momentarily and breaking off pieces from different ones, creating a sort of Frankenstein shark glued together with pink icing,
"Yeah, I thought 'Jaws; was great," She smiles, "I... Saw it with uh... A friend," She gives you a slightly sad smile, before looking down at the cookies she was decorating,
"We could watch it again today? Once you're done decorating. I think I still have the VHS lying around somewhere..." You murmured, glancing at your small TV,
"No!" Max says quickly, "We don't uh... I don't really wanna see it right now," She says, and you slowly nod, glancing at Eddie in search of help,
"Are you a fan of horror too?" He asks,
"Eds if she liked Jaws..." You whisper, nudging his arm,
"Yeah, I like horror movies," She quickly says, giving you a slight smile,
"What's your favourite?" He asks,
"I've always loved 'Halloween'," She says, the hint of excitement in her voice, "I think Micheal Myers is uh... Cool. Not in a weird way like-"
"You don't have to explain 'weird' to me, kid," Eddie grins, "You had me at loving 'Halloween'. Have you seen the sequel? We can watch them both when we finish," he says, excited tone matching hers quickly, though he turns to you as you laugh sharply, "What?" He asks, "You love Halloween," He states,
"Yeah, I do, I know," You say quickly, smiling brightly, "I just think it's funny that it's the middle of summer, you guys are decorating Christmas cookies and planning on watching Halloween," You point out to them,
"Gotta start early," Max says, making you laugh and reach your hand over so she can high-five you,
"Nice, Red," You smirk. You turn to look at Eddie, who has an amused smile on his face as he continues piping together the shark and setting it in the sugary sea,
"Add some yellow. Make it nice- yellow's a nice happy colour," You suggest, nudging the unused piping bag forward so it's set between them. Neither makes an effort to reach for it,
"Ugh- yellow reminds me of Lemons," Max makes a face,
"Don't remind me," Eddie laughs softly, "That was so much sour," He sticks his tongue out and you returned a laugh, remembering this morning,
"Too much vitamin C for one day, Eds?" You ask. He blinks at you, lifting the icing bag up from the plate,
"Sour starts with a C and not an S, babe," He says with a small smile, "I don't know much, but I know that," Before you can say anything, he's nodding to Max, "Hey Red, can I have the red? This is starting to look too much like a fun beach party and not a massacre," He smiles as she swaps bags with him,
"Eddie, Vitamin C is sour," You tell him, "That's the vitamin that's in lemons and oranges that makes them sour," You explain, "Along with the citric acid," He blinks for a moment, nods, then nods again in understanding,
"Oh yeah..." He mumbles, before glancing at the plate and getting to work, adding splotches of pink around the broken shortbread cookies, tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he focuses. As you watch him, you take the liberty to brush that strand back behind his ear again, so the icing doesn't get caught in it. You're about to say something when Max declares she's done. You walk over so you stand near her, smiling at the assortment of iced cookies she put back on the rack,
"I don't have any more blue. Someone used it all," She casts a playful glare at Eddie, who is unfortunately too enthralled in his massacre that he can't seem to hear or see her. You pat her shoulder though, smiling,
"I can always get you some more? That is unless you wanna call it a day," You offer her,
"I think I wanna keep going. You made so many and if there's still icing left, I wouldn't wanna waste it," She says, giving you a smile. You ruffle her hair again before grabbing the yellow icing, "Ugh," She makes a face as she takes it,
"You don't have to Max," You remind her, "I can always decorate the rest after work tomorrow and-"
"I want to decorate them," Max says quickly, "It's uh... Fun. I forgot how fun decorating stuff with icing was so... It's nice. Keeps my mind off... Things," She explains. Wordlessly, you nod, choosing to make yourself busy by cleaning up the dishes as they work away. 
Eddie declares his massacre finished a while after, and it honestly looks fairly gnarly. Bits of shortbread men with frowns and 'x's for eyes here and there, bobbing in the sugary waves while ominous fins and Frankenstein-like sharks painted on broken stockings chased them. You pat him, calling his horrifying creation lovely as he grinned proudly, swiping some icing off the plate and onto your nose.
Maybe you shouldn't have retaliated by throwing an unused cookie chunk at him, grinning as it got stuck in his hair. As expected, that started the cookie war between the two of you, with Max ducking away and declaring she was neutral, not wanting to be covered in flour when she went home. There was flour in your hair now, and swipes of icing on your and his shirts and faces. And though you were smiling now, being covered in sugar and flour was not something you particularly liked or enjoyed. You'd have to shower later to get it all off.
For now, you changed into your dry Pantera shirt and lent Eddie one of his stolen Led Zepplin shirts, before settling with Max to watch 'Halloween'. Eddie had made popcorn while you were changing, and even if Max stole the bowl for herself, you had Eddie's massacre to enjoy. The cookies were good, though you had to dip them in the icing as if they were chips, and all too soon they got overwhelmingly sweet for you. The movie was great, and considering how much you'd all seen it, you eagerly discussed the scenes and laughed about the kills. It was kinda hard to be scared of Micheal Myers when he was just... Standing there in the dark.
All too soon the movie was over. It was now almost pitch black outside, but you could hear the rain incessantly pounding against the windows. You hoped it'd clear up by the morning so you could walk to work, and even though that was unlikely, you kept your hopes up. Max told you she'd be heading home, and before she could leave, you insisted she takes some of the cookies, loading them into a tupperware container for her to take home,
"Good luck with Lucas tomorrow, okay?" You tell her as you set the box in her hands. With a sigh, she nods, "Talk to him. If you need somewhere more uh... Private, without your mom listening-" You wave her to the front window, pointing to the faintly illuminated bench near the playground, "See there? It's a good spot to talk. And if you need more privacy, just walk through the forest," You suggested to her, "Just don't get lost," You advise,
"Right," She takes a deep, steadying breath in, nodding, "Okay," She glances at the box in her hands as you pull the hood of her jacket over her head for her, 
"Give 'em to your mom as an apology for leaving too. Everybody likes cookies, right?" You smile as she gives a breathy laugh. She gives you a thankful look, before surprising you with a hug,
 "Thanks for letting me stay here," She murmurs your name into your shoulder as you hug her back,
"You're welcome. You know you're free to come around whenever?" You smiled, "Unless the trailer's dark and the lights are out. I have work in the morning you know," You tell her as she pulls away,
"Got it," She nods,
"If they're not there, you can always come hang out with me," Eddie offers, seemingly appearing from nowhere. He'd offered to clean up for you, and even if Eddie's idea of cleaning was to just move all the dirty things somewhere else- your kitchen- you still appreciated the help, "We'll go to the arcade again and you can teach me how to be better at Tetris," He grins. It surprises him too when Max, laughs, moving to hug him too. He blinks a little, looking at you as he pats her shoulders,
"Thanks for bringing the movie," She says, letting go of him and glancing between the two of you, "I'll see you around," She says, glancing over at Eddie as he fixes the hood on her head, "Good night!" She says as she leaves, and you both watch as she moves quickly through the rain, triggering the motion-sensor light above your home. Before long, she's running up the steps to her trailer and giving you both a final wave, before she lets herself in. Even though it's cold, you accept the cigarette Eddie's offering you and helping you light,
"Is she okay?" Eddie asks as he watches you. You take a deep inhale, letting the smoke burn your lungs before exhaling the long plume and watching it get violently swept away into the darkness. Your mind flicks back to when she first came here, how broken and hurt she was at the idea of you leaving. Her words about you. You hoped you'd told her the right thing and done enough for her. Eddie's hand comes to rest against the cold skin of your arm,
"I hope so," You finally say, tipping the ash from your cigarette on the ground outside as his hand moves up and down your arm rubbing the skin to try warm you, "I don't really know, Eds," You admit with a small frown, "She came here in the first place because she had an argument with her mom and then we... She cried," You frown, leaning your head against the doorframe, bringing the cigarette back to your lips,
"Shit," He mutters, as he takes a long drag too,
"Yeah. She came in and asked where I had been, considering no one had told her or her mom I was living next door. I told her I was in Franklin and that I'd go back when the next semester started and she got... Quiet," You thought for a few moments, trying to recall the conversation. By now, it was all a blur of emotion that constricted your heart, "She really cares about us, Eds," You finally say, meeting his gaze, "She sees us as family- you as a brother," His eyes widen slightly,
"Really?" His voice is quiet and full of surprise, and his cigarette is seemingly forgotten about as it burns out next to him. Yours too. His eyes have lit up and he can't help himself from slightly,
"Yeah... It- she was crying while saying this- but... She says you remind her a lot of Billy," His expression shifts, "Not in a bad way-" You quickly reassure, "She says you two had similar interests in music. She said uh... She kinda expects you to be like him. But you're completely not- so that's good," You tell him. He blinks a few times, before nodding, glancing at the cigarette in his hands, "I also told her to talk more about her feelings and stuff," You shrug, "Lucas was here before her," you add, dropping your cigarette and letting him squish it, considering he's wearing his shoes and you're barefoot,
"Sinclair?" Eddie asks; you nod affirmatively, "Did you ask if he'll make it to the Straight-Out-Of-Hell Hellfire Meeting?" He asks. You frown, in confusion as he drops his cigarette and puts it out too, "My campaign?" He clarifies,
"Oh- no?" You smile as you move away from the door and he closes it behind with a dramatic huff, rolling his eyes as he follows you to your living room, "What? You expect me to slip in a 'remember to go see Eddie' when I'm giving the kid romance advice?" You laugh,
"Romance advice? He could have gone to me!" Eddie says in protest,
"What would you have told him, huh? Make her a mixtape and she'll love you again?" You raise your brows as he opens and closes his mouth,
"That's not bad advice, sweetheart," He tells you as you laugh, glancing over the damage in the kitchen, "Did you at least give him good advice?" He asks, following you,
"Hopefully. I told him he should listen to her more and then try and help her," You look over at him as he comes to lean on the counter. As you go quiet, he glances around the messy kitchen, before looking at you,
"That it?" He frowns,
"Well yeah. Sometimes you don't need big, huge, convoluted monologues about love, boomboxes outside windows, or large bouquets of flowers. You just need to listen to what the other person has to say," You tell him with a slight smile,
"Huh," He hums,
"See it's difficult to listen when you're talking so much," You tease him, giving him a knowing look that he laughs at softly, eyes darting over the mess again. His gaze focuses back on you as your shoulders drop and you move to start cleaning,
"Woah, hey," He says, holding a hand out to try to grab your arm. You freeze as you go to grab the kitchen sponge in an attempt to tackle the new stack of dishes piling up in the sink, "I'll clean that," You give him a look,
"Will you though?" You smile, picking up the sponge and going to wash the empty popcorn bowl and plates with scrapes of icing let. You hear him curse under his breath, followed by the sounds of his feet shuffling up behind you, reaching under your arms to take the sponge from your hands and place it down, "Hey!" You protest as he tries to take the bowl in your other hand out of it, "Eddie no, give me the bowl," You can feel him smiling against the back of your head, before he presses a kiss to your hair. With his other hand, he intertwines your vacant fingers as you laugh his name out in protest, though finally giving in as he grabs the bowl. He sets the ceramic back into your sink with a slight clatter and leans on you slightly to turn off the tap. You turn and face him, "What?" You ask, narrowing your eyes playfully,
"I already told you I'll clean up your kitchen," He says softly. When you go to turn away from him again, he sucks air between his teeth in a quiet hiss and grabs your arms so you can't move, saying your name in a stern way that has your stomach twisting, "Hey, you've been working your ass off all evening, let me do something for you," He says, gently rubbing your arms, "You have work in the morning and I don't so I'll clean up for you," He insists. With a slight sigh, you reluctantly nod, relaxing back in his arms and letting yourself lean backwards into a hug, his arms securing themselves tightly around your waist. He holds you delicately, lips ghosting over the crown of your head,
"Thanks, Eddie," You breathe, turning in his arms to face him and giving him a thankful smile. And though you'd likely still find some flour or icing he had missed somewhere, you were so gratefully appreciative that he'd be willing to help you out like this,
"Anything for you" He murmurs, pressing another kiss to your head, "And besides, if we're gonna live together it's gotta be clean right?" He smirks as you lift your head, giving him a sceptical look,
"Who are you and what have you done with my Eddie?" You smile wider as he throws his head back and laughs loudly,
"Your Eddie?" He says it with such pride and happiness it makes heat blossom through your body,
"Didn't you declare that you thrive in mess and- what was it? Organised chaos?" You smile at him, watching as he nods affirmatively. He moves a hand to gently rest against your face, brushing some hair out of your eyes, "Why the sudden change of heart?" You ask,
"Because I know you don't really like it," He smiles, "And I know you get up at the ass crack of dawn to get ready for work in the morning, so you'll likely wake up late and be rushing around all snappy and angry, complaining about your back or your feet," He smiles as you scrunch up your nose. He presses a kiss to your forehead in an attempt to soothe the wrinkles, then pulls back, smiling lovingly at you, "Let me do something nice for you, babe," He says. And you really don't have it in your heart to argue with him. Instead, you lean forward and kiss him,
"I really love you, Eddie," You mumble once you part,
"Yeah. I love you too," He murmurs your name, lips ghosting over yours as he kisses you again. You let your hands touch his chest, resting them there for a moment, before gently pushing him back from you,
"Well, I don't know about you, but I don't like going to sleep covered in flour," You smiled, reaching forward to run your fingers through his messy hair, gently trying to dust off the flour stuck there, "We gotta shower," You say as he rolls his eyes, 
"You won't let me sleep with you like this?" He asks, smirking as he swipes his thumb along your cheek, whipping the smudge of icing there away, 
"Never," You smirk. He groans, quickly hugging you tightly and pulling you off your feet, earning a surprised yelp, "Eddie!!" You laugh, putting your hands on his shoulders. He sets you up on the counter behind you so he's taller, and smirks,
"What?" He grins up at you. He looks so pretty like this, bright and happy as he stares at you, pink icing on the side of his face and sticking the ends of his bangs to his skin. His hair's still up, and you lightly reach out to undo the ponytail, letting him shake his hair out,
"What are you doing?" You asked amused, his hands at your sides, sliding up and under your shirt, grazing your skin delicately. The skin beneath his fingertips tingles pleasantly, and you feel your breath catching in your throat. He's quiet for a moment, leaning in close so you feel his body pressing against your legs. Slowly, you open them so he's pressed against the cabinets, and your legs move around his waist. His lips are ghosting yours, pulling back in a playful way when you try leaning in to kiss him,
"You said you wanna shower," He says in a low voice, nodding his head towards his bathroom, "C'mon," He urges, letting go of you and taking your hand to try to pull you after him,
"Together?" You ask him. He nodded his head in clarification as you hop off the counter,
"Of course, together," He smiles, gently tugging your hand again, "Unless you wanna go alone?" He said, his hold on your hand loosening ever so slightly. It's sweet he has the mind to ask, and you quickly squeeze his hand,
"Course I'll join you Eds," You grin, moving past him and pulling him forwards now, laughing as he presses his lips against your cheek, "Thanks for asking though,"
"Just wanted to make sure," He says, pushing the bathroom door open for you and flicking the light on,
"How cute," You smile. You gaze at each other for a moment, just simply smiling and staring, before you let out a small, involuntary laugh. You really missed this. You missed him so much when you were gone. You missed how genuinely and completely happy being in his presence made you. And when he laughs with you, closing the small distance between you with a kiss as he backs you into the small bathroom, warmth spreads through your body.
21 notes · View notes
janekfan · 4 years
Note
aah i just sent this prompt but tumblr told me it didn't send so if it sent twice ignore this!! so prompt: how about early s2, where jon is pulling away a bit but the others are concerned about it more than angry, getting a horrific migraine. like "has to leave a team meeting early" horrific. and the others know he wants to be left alone and try to respect it, but eventually they can't just ignore it anymore. <3 if you don't like this i can try again!
Oof, migraines. Amiright??? This is based on a personal experience of mine I had in college :D
My whole floor thought I was dying and almost dragged me to the hospital.
Thank you @taylortut as always for giving me such great ideas! :D
Looking back, Jon felt incredibly foolish.
Insisting that he could persist through his day without taking medication for headaches when it resulted in the same outcome every time was the very definition of insanity.
But, in his flimsy defense, they never started out badly and he got so caught up in his work that by the time he realized what was happening, it was far, far too late to do anything but suffer it out until it ended. Which is how he found himself here, now, nearly completely blind in his right eye while Elias droned on about workplace safety and considering recent events it seemed laughably mundane because yes, back strain from lifting incorrectly certainly outweighed a sentient worm queen trying to devour your assistants.
Filled with a desperate desire to rub away the disorientating blind spot, Jon let his focus slip over his employees.
Tim: bored. Not doing anything to hide it and Jon supposed he was at fault for that too, because he was certainly not paying Elias any mind.
Sasha: attentive. Most likely thinking of something else entirely while she nodded along to the lecture notes at the appropriate places.
Martin: engrossed. Despite his suspicions, mostly due to the constant checking in with him about how he was feeling, and really, maybe that was on him because maybe that’s what coworkers did after bravely surviving an onslaught of supernatural entities together. Despite them, he found it. Pleasant? Pleasant. That he would commit the effort to pay such careful attention.
Jon: quickly realizing this meeting would not be finished by the time the majority of the pain struck him like an oncoming lorry. By his estimations, based on when he first noticed the aura as a funny spot in his peripheral he tried to see around, he had roughly three minutes left.
Elias continued to endlessly intone while the buzzing lights continued to beat down on him and Jon fought against closing his eyes against them both and their ceaseless stabbing. Two minutes. Probably less and the anxiety which accompanied knowing almost exactly when he was about to be incapacitated rose like a tide and threatened to drag him under. Jon began to shake minutely as the agony manifested like an icepick in the back of his head and spread its grasping, greedy fingers. It took the rest of his very limited restraint to stay silent and keep breathing; shallow and slow, controlled and careful because the nausea was beginning to set in and throwing up during a staff meeting was at the very least, unwise.
But oh he needed somewhere silent, somewhere he could hide in total darkness and not move until he was able to force himself to sleep, to sleep, to sleep because that was the only way he’d found to make it through to the other side.
“Jon?” He was standing, blinking unevenly, fighting with himself and his desire to shield his face with both hands. The sound of his name was too loud. So loud and the murmuring of the others in the room created a beautiful sensory nightmare and if they knew his head was about to split open would they really be speaking so loudly? Doubtful. Martin. Martin wouldn’t at least.
“I’m leaving.” Inadequate, but he didn’t have the wherewithal to elaborate even if in his right mind he wouldn’t. And this wasn’t even the worst of it.
Each step was a rung up the ladder of agony and he’d taken to trailing a hand against the wall, not trusting his quickly dwindling balance and equilibrium. Rudely, without his express permission, a sob snuck past his clenched teeth and he just had to make it down the stairs, into the archives. Into the dark. The cot was still in document storage and the room would be dim and quiet and he could sleep. Please, let him sleep. Trembling so badly he could barely work the door handle, desperation doing its level best to claw its way through his ribcage, Jon began to panic. Gently, gently, gently, he closed the door behind him, trying to breathe because not breathing would make it worse. The buttons at his throat were so tight, the vest, while comfortable this morning was strangling him and he fought his way out of it like a tiger before all but tearing open his collar.
Sh. Shh. You’re alright. Shaky. Ill. But alright and you will be alright. Jon collapsed to the cot, sighing at the momentary relief laying down provided but there was still so much light and it was like glass behind his eyes even though they were closed as tightly as he dared close them. The blanket that had been left behind was very contradictory, too much and not nearly enough, and when it brushed the bare skin of his arms it felt like sandpaper but he wanted more of it. More weight so he could relax without feeling as though he was going to drift away because who even knew which way was up anymore? If he hadn’t left the meeting, he could’ve asked.
Don’t cry. Do. Not. Jonathan Sims. It made it worse, so much worse so he kept his tears trapped behind a false calm. Each time he’d thought he would die from one of these or at the very least prefer it and each time he woke the next day groggy and sore and exhausted, useless for anything except more sleep. He dropped his glasses on the floor, hugged his middle with one arm and threw the other over his face.
Please, please, please.
Just go to sleep.
“I’ll thank the rest of you for continued attention.” Martin nodded absently, worried. Jon didn’t just walk out of meetings. And he’d been so pale, rubbing his temple and wincing. A bad headache? He got those sometimes.
Didn’t like to be bothered about them either.
He caught Tim staring at him over the table, done with his paperclip sculpture for now it seemed, and he nodded just slightly toward the door with a questioning look. Martin just shrugged discreetly, now too distracted to pay attention to whatever Elias deemed important enough to waste their time with after an attack on the archives. Needless to say, the rest of the hour passed excruciatingly slow and as soon as they were released, Martin headed straight for Jon’s office, momentarily confused when it was empty.
“Not there?” Martin shook his head and Tim frowned in concern. “The cot? Maybe he needed a lie down?”
“You’re probably right.”
“Still strange.” He nodded in agreement, already headed to check, knocking quietly on the worn wood.
“Jon?” Martin swore he heard something suspiciously like a whimper before his voice floated through the door.
“Yes, Martin?” It was strange, off, wavery? The tail end of a gasping breath.
“You just, you left in such a hurry.” He’d give anything to open the door and see for himself. “Are you feeling well?”
“I’m. Yes, Martin, I’m, I’m alright.” Jon was many things, a good liar was not one of them, but he was the type to lick his wounds alone, preferring not to show any vulnerability and Martin would respect it. “Bit tired.”
“Okay, I’ll. Check on you in a bit then. Bring some tea.”
“Yes, alright.” Despite his worry, Martin smiled at the tiny familiar spark of frustration.
When Martin spoke his voice seemed to echo in the hollows of Jon’s bones, reverberating into his head and only exacerbating the throbbing pain, not even really aware of what he was saying, just trying to get him to go away so he could be as still as possible in silence. The more he moved, the more it felt like his stomach was trying to turn inside out and the fear of moving, of being sick, of causing himself more hurt, made tears sting at the corners of his eyes, made him itch where they slipped down his face.
If it would just stop for a moment. If he could just fall asleep. Calm down. Stand to have anything against his skin right now.
He wanted to be alone and not be alone. Wanted Martin or Tim or Sasha to, to, he didn’t know, just wanted. The strange disconnect from his physical body was maddening, confusing, and he wanted so badly for it to please stop.
When Martin looked up, Sasha was so close to his desk he startled. He hadn’t heard her but she looked worried.
“I don’t think Jon is feeling very well.”
“I don’t think so either.”
“He’s been in there all day.” Tim joined them. “Maybe we should check on him again?” Martin looked at the clock. It had been hours since he’d talked to him and he had yet to reappear.
“You’re probably right.” This time, it was definitely a hurting sound and Martin decided it was for Jon’s own good to let himself in. He’d only just recovered from Prentiss, what if the stress had made him ill? “Jon?” He was curled into himself on the cot, clothes in disarray, vest discarded and half the blanket piled atop his face. When the door closed, Jon clapped his hand over his ear, the other tangled into his button down so tight Martin was afraid he’d pop the buttons. “You’re shaking.”
“Mmartin…” the barest exhale, pleading. “S’loud…so...so loud…”
“Okay, okay, what’s wrong?” He knelt beside him, resting his hand over Jon’s. “How can I help?”
“Jus’...jus’ need t’sleep.” Shuddering, his breath caught, was released, uneven, fast, gasping. “Can’t.” He decided at that moment that sound should never come from Jon again, not if ever he could help it and the fingers that had been digging into his greying hair were now clutching Martin’s.
“Okay. I’m coming back.” Jon seemed to collapse inward like a star and it was hard to leave him but he’d seen migraines before and it had been hours since what he guessed was the onset. “Tim, do you have any paracetamol?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Jon’s not well, of course.”
“Figures.”
“This time I really think it wasn’t his fault. These things sometimes come on suddenly.” Tim grumbled, digging through his desk and heading with Martin to the breakroom for some water, waiting while he brewed a strong black tea.
“He gets a pass. One time, Martin. This one time.” While the tea cooled Martin retrieved a few cloths from the drawer and a bowl of water.
“He needs quiet. Everything is really overwhelming right now. A lot of input and nowhere for it to go.”
“You’re the boss, Marto.” With a jaunty salute, Tim followed, staying calm and quiet, kneeling down to Jon’s level before whispering a greeting. “Hey. Gonna get you fixed right up.”
“Nnng…okay.”
“Jon? We’re going to help you sit up.” With no refusal forthcoming, Tim and Martin shared a look of alarm before lifting him as though he were made of spun glass and he buried his face in Martin’s soft, well worn jumper. “Good, Jon.” Martin pressed his palm against his forehead and found it cold and a little clammy, his clothes clung slightly with sweat and it seemed like he had trouble coordinating his limbs.
“Hur’s…” trembling, his muscles spasmed randomly, and Tim had to help hold his hand steady enough for a dose of paracetamol while Martin followed quickly with the bitter tea, washing the taste away with a sip of water.
“Okay, love. Doing such a good job. Almost done.” More tears. He went to nod, instead ending up with his head hanging, neck too tired to hold it up any longer and Martin eased him back down onto the pillow. “Let me know if this is too much.” He wrung out a flannel and smoothed it over his eyes, pleased when Jon groaned in slight relief. Tim stroked his hair, soft and slow, and together they waited, watched his shivering gradually stop and his breath deepen into sleep.
Sasha met them outside the door and Martin stepped further down the hall, just in case they were loud enough to wake him.
“Well?”
“He’s asleep, bad migraine.” Martin winced in sympathy, “and hopefully he’ll sleep through until morning.”
“That’s a relief.” Collectively, they agreed. Jon had been under a lot of pressure lately and while he’d never been one to confide in them often even those moments were becoming rare
Jon felt heavy, tired and slow, and when Martin opened the door with a mug of tea in one hand and a plate of toast in the other, he reasoned that he hadn’t dreamt the entirety of the day previous. Which meant he did sit through most of Elias’ dry speech about safety.
Embarrassing. To have walked out like that.
“Martin.” The memory of gentle hands and a soft voice made him flush.
“Jon, how’re you feeling?”
“Better, uh, much better. Thank you.” Sitting up was only somewhat a chore, the dizziness faded into the background for the most part. The fogginess was expected and would last a few days but for now he accepted the tea graciously, eyed the toast suspiciously, and settled on another round of painkillers and a few mouthfuls until he thought he might be pushing it. “Thank you, Martin.” He’d been in a bad way and at his wit’s end before he and Tim essentially rescued him. Passing back the empty mug and setting the remaining toast aside, Jon decided he deserved a lie in especially considering he was in that fragile inbetween where turning his head too fast would trigger another one. “If you see Tim before me, would you pass on my gratitude?”
“‘Course I will” Martin retrieved the dishes and turned back before closing the door. “Sleep well, Jon.”
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elenajohansenreads · 3 years
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Books I Read in 2021
#83 - Shadowmarch, by Tad Williams
Mount TBR: 69/100
Beat the Backlist Bingo: Cover features your favorite color prominently
Rating: 1/5 stars
Well, that was a slog.
So I have a history with this piece of intellectual property. I was introduced to Williams as an author in college (1998) because several of the friends I made my first year were big fantasy nerds--no surprise there--and I was perfectly ready to move on from my high-school-era love of less sophisticated fantasy authors. I borrowed The Dragonbone Chair from one of those friends and off I went.
So in 2001 when news about Williams writing an online serial went around, and I saw the $15 price tag...well, I was a perpetually almost-broke college student still, and sure I spent money on books, but that was a high gateway, because a) I didn't own my own computer yet, I was borrowing friends' or using the computer lab to write papers and such; and b) sure, a chunky fantasy novel might be $7 or $8 in paperback, but it was portable, easy to reread whenever, and nobody had tablets or smartphones or e-readers yet, so an online serial publication was definitely not portable. Even fifteen dollars seemed like too much for the inconvenience of a book I could only read sitting at a computer, and couldn't read all of at once.
I was genuinely angry about this shift away from the paradigm, and much like Williams vowing this serial was online only and would never be published traditionally (which I distinctly remember but don't actually have a source for) I too vowed that I would never read it.
I held out much longer than he did, if my memory of that claim is even true. But I'm wishing now that I hadn't bothered.
This is bad. Not even close to the level of quality I expect from Williams, based on the earlier Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn series, as well as War of the Flowers--which was weird but I enjoyed it--and the Otherland series, which was even weirder and not always good, but yeah, I still enjoyed that too, for the most part.
Who am I supposed to care about in this book? I'm no stranger to multiple protagonists, but there are simply too many here, meaning none of them get the development time they would need to be interesting. I'm trying to wean myself from the complaint that protagonists need to be "likable," because a character can be a jerk and still be interesting, but few of these protagonists are particularly likable either!
1. Barrick is a whiny jerk who folds under pressure and abdicates responsibility to his sister, and then makes a spectacularly bad decision for no reason other than to set up some tension at the end, and his future arc. If it's because he's "mad," bad plot reason, and if it's because he's affected by the more general shadow-madness, well, I guess he could be vulnerable to it like anyone else, but that's pretty flimsy too. 2. Briony is a fairly standard "if only I weren't a woman, people would take me seriously" princess who doesn't fold as much under pressure but is dealt a really raw deal. I'll give her credit, she does legitimately try her best to rule her lands, but she's also kind of a whiny jerk like her brother, too. 3. Quinnitan is...pointless. Sure, I see how the end of her arc in this book echoes those of the Eddon twins, but there is no direct connection between her plot and anyone else's. And I mean that literally, if there's anything that ties her story to any other single part of the book, I simply do not see it, it's buried in lore or foreshadowing that was lost on me amid the sheer weight of nearly 800 pages of plodding narrative. I read all of her scenes constantly wondering why I should care, and the fact that her arc is a very basic harem plot, "I don't want to be a token wife but really what choice do I have?" sort of thing, doesn't help, because on its own it's incredibly unoriginal. 4. Chert is marginally likable, because he's arguably got the most defined personality and most personal growth in the book, as a person of a "little" race who is distinctly not human--I get a mix of gnome and dwarf, with a faint whiff of Podling from The Dark Crystal--and who deals with an unexpected foundling by taking him into his family and trying to make it work, even when that foundling is really a big blank space in the story who still manages to get into trouble. 5. Captain Vansen gets points from me for being the guardsman deep in unrequited love, which is a trope I would absolutely eat up with a spoon. The problem is, the object of that love is a protagonist I don't care for (Briony,) leading me to question what the eff he's thinking that he can even admire her from a distance, let alone be in infatuation/love. And his plot arc is mostly "something goes wrong that's not really has fault but everyone blames him anyway." Which got dull.
Chert and Vansen are most of the reason this book gets a second star*, honestly. Chert's scenes with the Rooftoppers are generally pretty excellent, even if they're mostly tied to a plot arc that I don't care for.
The other thing that's getting me about this is that it feels like a deliberately grim-dark retread of Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn. You've got a castle that's the seat of current government but used to belong to the enemy--the enemy that no one is sure even exists anymore, that lives in a land far enough away to feel distant but also somehow close enough to be threatening, once people believe in them again. That castle is perched upon magically important ruins/caverns, and that enemy has forms of magic/communication that affect humans and can cause or appear symptomatic of madness. There's a race of small likable people who aren't quite dwarves or any other "standard" fantasy race, but are still somehow cute/appealing. There's a crippled prince who's not really well-liked. One of the primary female protagonists is a young woman who laments the limitations of her womanhood under the patriarchal feudal system of the world.
And to someone who's never read either of these series, that list of similarities could mostly read like fairly common fantasy tropes, and I forgive anyone who reads this review and thinks that. But I've read MSaT probably ten times all the way through in the twenty-plus years since I was introduced to it, and I feel like I've just been handed the same story again, with a thick coat of gray paint slathered on it and a few details changed--and those changes are basically always for the worse. No one in this story can be said to be a direct equivalent to Simon, who gets a very clear hero's journey, but if I'm supposed to slot Barrick in as a Simon/Josua mashup (that crippled prince problem) then it takes the entire book to get Barrick out of his comfort zone and on his journey, where Simon got booted from the castle at the end of the first act of the first book.
And that gets at the underlying problem that is at least partially fueling all other problems--this book is clearly just the first act of the larger story, and yes i know! that is what first books do! but this also doesn't have a lot of forward motion on its own, and it doesn't resolve anything aside from the mystery of a single murder at that happens near the beginning. Seriously, all other plot threads get kicked down the road with the "and now they're exiles" theme that the ending has assigned to most of the protagonists. Chert doesn't suffer that fate, but the ending of his story line--also the end of the book itself--is the foundling reasserting that he doesn't know who he is, which is not new information. We've literally not known who he is the whole time, except that we do find out who his mother is, but don't find out how he was taken or why he apparently hasn't aged as much as he should have or what the Qar intended by sending him back "home." The identity of his mother is basically the least important question surrounding him.
I truly feel like I just read a 750-page prologue, and that is not a good feeling.
*Yeah, I told myself this was a two-star book, but by the time I wrote the whole review, it's not and I can't pretend I still believe that. This is a one-star book. This is so bad I don't want to go on with the series, even though it almost has to get better, now that most of our protagonists are out on their journeys. And because it could hardly get worse, right? But this already took up so much of my time (I had to take a week-long break in the middle to binge some romances, as a relief from all this grimdark toil) and even though I've managed to collect secondhand copies of the rest of the series, and they've been sitting on my shelves for a few years waiting for me to invest my energy into them...I'm giving up. Not worth it.
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