#everybody lives and nobody dies

[randomprose]

the rest is confetti

written for the satosho server weekly prompt: wedding [ao3] shoko and satoru get married—twice

When Shoko decided to get married, and when Satoru said it’s gonna be a traditional wedding because of the clan and both of their standing in Jujutsu society, she didn’t think much of it.

When Shoko let him slip that very shiny ring on her finger, she knew exactly what she was getting into.

Hell, she knew it the day Satoru finally got his shit and his words together long enough to ask her out on a date, and she knew it when she leaned it at the end of it to kiss him.

So Ieiri Shoko entered the wedding planning process and it didn’t come as a surprise to her at all that everything would be chaotic and hectic. To say the least.

What did come as a surprise, however, is how…not well Satoru is taking it all in.

While the usual planning and preparation time of a wedding as big and as important as theirs—she is well aware despite not really seeing the point of it—takes six months to a full year, theirs were all set and done in just two months. Which doesn’t really surprise her given the extent of the Gojo clan’s wealth and influence.

In two months, Shoko was ushered in and out of dress fittings and alterations, food and cake tasting, wine sampling (which she thoroughly enjoyed), flowers and decor (which she really didn’t care much for), and all other inanity such as seating arrangements and memorizing clan members. The last part was fairly easy having been in and out of the Gojo estate and having met most of Satoru’s kinsmen since becoming friends with him. It’s the other clans she couldn’t give less of a fuck about.

Everything went relatively alright and smoothly considering both hers and Satoru’s very busy schedule. And all the while Shoko was just thinking they just needed to get through all these frivolities and then they’re golden.

And then Satoru goes AWOL the day before the wedding. Shoko finds him hours later in the clan’s secret garden hiding in the gazebo she and Satoru used to lounge around with Suguru when they would visit in the summers.

“Thought I’d find you here,” Shoko says as she spots him lying on the gazebo’s cold marble floor. “What? Getting cold feet?”

“Marrying you? As if,” Satoru scoffs from his place on the floor. 

“We can still call off, you know? The wedding isn’t until tomorrow. We have time.”

“What, and have my clan and all of Jujutsu society on our ass forever?” Satoru runs a hand through his hair. He has a bitching headache and it's obvious with the way his brows are pinched. “Listen, Shoko. I need you to know that you’re the only one I’m sure about in this whole fucking circus, okay? I’m not backing out on that. And you can’t either! I'm just having an off day that's all! Don’t think you can use this as an excuse to back out!”

“I know that, doofus. And I’m not running away. I’m not the one who’s gone awol and went into hiding the day before their wedding, am I?” Shoko says as he sits by his head, putting a hand over his eyes to soothe them and rid him of his migraine. He’s in the mood for jokes even in his state and that’s a good sign. “So, what is this really about?”

“It’s just…” Satoru sighs in relief as he feels her technique course through him. The pinch in his brows is gone. “I’m sorry for putting you through all this bullshit. I know it’s not your style.”

Shoko smiles exasperatedly. Of course, Gojo Satoru will have a meltdown the day before their wedding.

“Please. Give me some credit. I knew what I was getting into the moment I allowed your dork ass to hang around me.”

“Oh, yeah? What, that you’ll one day be marrying the strongest sorcerer?”

“That you’ll one day bamboozle me into somehow agreeing to marry you, yes.”

“Oh, shut up. You beat me to the punch and asked first,” Satoru retorts, clambering up to lay his head on her lap. “You love me.”

“Of course, I do,” Shoko answers without missing a beat and they sit like that for a while with her fingers carding through his hair until the edges of his eyes have softened and his face finally relaxed.

“Man,” Satoru sighs after a while. “This whole thing kinda got away from us, huh?”

“You know I don’t care about any of this, right? But I’m okay to go along with it all because it’s you I get to meet at the end of the aisle.” Shoko looks at him, really looks at him. “Now, I’m asking you. What do you want?”

She’s asking him what he wants. Outside of him being the strongest sorcerer of their time, beyond him being the head of the Gojo clan, taking aside his duty to Jujutsu society and the world it promises to protect, Shoko is asking him what he wants as just him. As just Satoru.

“You,” Satoru answers without hesitation. He sits up so he can look at her properly. “I just want you.”

“Okay,” Shoko smiles. “Then you have me.”

In the next second, Shoko had sneaked them out of the secret backdoor hidden in the garden’s hedges and into a car. She tells Satoru to drive to the airport while she makes some calls. When Satoru asks where they’re going, Shoko just simply tells him ‘Tokyo’ and to drive fast so they can catch the next flight out. She holds up a finger in a shushing motion when Satoru tries to say something because Suguru has already picked up on the other end of the line. 

Shoko knows their friends won’t be flying out to Kyoto for the Gojo estate until tomorrow. She tells Suguru to round up the gang and to get Yaga certified to officiate then meet them at the school in two hours.

It is only when they’re sitting in the plane’s first-class cabin do Satoru says, “You know I could’ve just teleported us to Tokyo, right?”

“I know, but we gotta give the gang time to get ready. It’s lucky Utahime and Mei are on a mission in Tokyo right now. She’ll want to get presentable first at least.”

They get to Jujutsu High with just enough time for Utahime to squeeze Shoko out of her sensible turtle neck and trousers into a pantsuit at her insistence. She also does Shoko’s hair in a modest updo and puts light make-up on her. Mei-mei hands her a bouquet. 

In another room, Suguru and Yuu manage to wrangle Satoru out of his shirt and jeans into a white button-up and slacks. Kento lends him one of his suit jackets and tames his unruly white hair into a slick do.

They get married on the school grounds at dusk with Yaga blubbering through half the ceremony and his officiation and lecturing them about how they’re impulsive idiots who are a pain in his ass and that he loves them both very much.

Shoko tosses her bouquet and Utahime catches it. Satoru makes a teasing quip about it and Utahime counters by saying she’ll be walking the aisle next for when Shoko divorces him.

Their reception is held at their favorite izakaya and Satoru and Shoko cut a cake bought by Haibara from Satoru’s favorite bakery.

And then, after all the festivities and the congratulations and the ‘see you tomorrow’s, Shoko and Satoru hop on a flight back to Kyoto (because Satoru took a sip of Shoko’s sake and was feeling a little woozy to teleport) and retire to their respective rooms when they get back to the Gojo clan's estate. 

In the morning, Satoru and Shoko get married in the traditional way that was expected of people of their standing, with the Gojo clan and all the representatives of major Jujutsu clans in attendance, the Council, and everyone who’s anyone in the Jujutsu society. Their friends are among the crowd of attendees, no less excited and happy for them than they were the day before.

“Is this your first time?” Satoru asks lowly once they’re arm in arm. “Getting married, I mean.”

“Not really,” Shoko shrugs. “I’ve been married before. You?”

“Oh, same.”

“Good to know we both have some experience then.” 

“Just so you know, Mrs. Gojo-Ieiri,” Satoru says leaning down so only his wife could hear. “I would marry you a thousand times over any day, anytime, anywhere.”

“Eehh,” Shoko smirks shifting closer and bumping shoulders with her husband. “How very romantic of you, Mr. Ieiri-Gojo.”

Shoko and Satoru share knowing secretive smiles throughout the ceremony.

#everybody lives and nobody dies #Suguru and the rest of Tokyo 5 are here #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satosho #satoshoko #gojo satoru #ieiri shoko #satoshoko fic #writing

[skyessky]

New Warrior Nun fic from me! This time exploring an AU where Ava joined the OCS four years earlier than in canon because:

Wouldn't it be nice if Ava actually grew up with the girls in the OCS?

Wouldn't it be cool for Ava to witness Beatrice coining the Cruella de Jesus nickname?

Wouldn't it be nice if Shannon doesn't die, if Mary doesn't die, if NOBODY DIES AND EVERYBODY LIVES?? *

Basically a season 1 rewrite.

*By everybody I mean the girls in the OCS whom we care about. This is still an AU within the Warrior Nun universe so, ya know, canon-typical violence, demons, and all.

Check it out here!

#warrior nun fic #ava silva #sister beatrice #ava x beatrice #avatrice fic #alternative universe #season 1 rewrite #everybody lives and nobody dies

[chucktaylorupset]

I think there's something to be said for fanfiction that loves canon in a way that’s rude. Like thank you for this wonderful thematic tragedy made out of this character’s entire arc ending in death, it was emotionally and intellectually moving, but also fuck you fuck you fuck you they live, this time and every time they live, they never died, their flaws are not their undoing, actually they have no flaws, actually they save everyone, actually who cares about a story, any story, where this one dies, actually i cared about that story so much i made a new one, actually i cared so much i unmade the old one, you gave me morals and i left them for the mortal, but they’re mine now and i will never let them die, actually thank you, actually fuck you, strongly worded letter to follow

A kiss for canon and spit in its face all at once, it’s great

#my post #i use and plan to use the 'canonical character death tag' WAY too much to post this but still #fanfiction #everybody live nobody dies au #and a five #this is about your blorbo absolutely but before that it was about #robb stark #to crown him is to kill him #on the one hand he must die because there are no good kings #king of the north was the death knell of robb the good brother robb the good son robb the loving friend #on the other hand #he was the nicest sixteen year old in the world #on the other hand fuck you there sits the only king i mean to bend my knee too #what if king was just a name for a brother who loved you #love that story of thematic importance about the inherent devastation of feudalism #but fuck you he's perfect and he lives #fuck you let him be soft and let him be mine #in general im against sandpapering your blorbos but actually my blorbos are soft and round and perfect #boubas if you will #and who cares if theyre a little unrecognizable #the version of them that gets to live #resurrection and comes back wrong but with the multiverse of what if they lived fanfiction

[imfinereallyy]

“The demon is back.” Eddie pokes into Steve’s side to wake him up.

“Babe, please go back to sleep.” Steve shoves his face into the pillow, making his voice muffled.

“Steeeeve.” Eddie whines, “It’s really there I swear this time. And I locked the door so I know it’s the demon again. Nothing else can get inside.”

“Eddie.” Steve squishes his face even deeper into the mattress. “You do this at least once a week. I love you; I do. But I never look because there is no demon. And every morning, you wake up fine. So please, go back to sleep.”

“What if I promise never to mention it again if it’s not really there? Will you look then?” This time Eddie’s voice wavers, his actual terror showing.

Steve sighs and shifts his head to look at Eddie, “This is really freaking you out, huh?” He says it kindly. Steve can tell this is serious to Eddie. So even if he doesn’t believe it, Eddie does. And what’s important to Eddie is important to Steve.

Eddie nods back furiously.

“Okay, I’ll look.” Steve shifts his head towards the other side, where the chair by the window sits. There, sitting in that corner is a dark shadowy figure. “Oh.”

“See! I told you! Demon! Oh god, it’s gonna get us.” Eddie throws his hands up. Even though he’s terrified, he’s accepted defeat.

“No.” Steve says calmly. “It’s just El.”

Eddie pauses his rant, “What?”

“It’s just El. In the corner. She does that sometimes, watches people she cares about until she falls asleep. To make sure they’re safe.” Steve looks at Eddie.

“The door was locked! How are you so calm about one of the kids just watching us at night?”

“Honey, she has mind powers. I don’t think a flimsy lock from Home Depot is going to stop her.” Steve deadpans before shrugging, “And it’s El. She could ask me to kill a man, and I probably wouldn’t even ask questions.”

“What if she asked you to kill me?”

“I’d be conflicted.”

“I want to be mad, but honestly I think I’d hand you the knife.” Eddie sighs, looking down at Steve.

Steve scoffs, “Don’t be ridiculous. I wouldn’t stab you. I’d obviously sneak some kind of poison into your honeycombs. Way less messy.”

Eddie goes back to nearly shouting, “Why have you thought about this?!”

“Honestly, I have a lot of intrusive thoughts. I just don’t speak them out loud.”

Despite the fact they are actively talking about his murder, Eddie can’t help but get all gooey with Steve in their bed. “Is this why you don’t get mad when I think aloud? Another reason why you just get me. Adding that tally to the ‘why we are great together’ column.”

“Yes, we’re pretty amazing. Can we go back to sleep now?” Steve smiles.

“Yes—wait, no.” Eddie corrects himself, getting himself back on track. He loves this man, but he is a sneaky little minx. “Why did El never say anything? I mean, this is not the first time I accused her of being a demon. Hell, we’ve been talking for literally five minutes, and she still hasn’t said anything. Also, what if she walked in on us doing, ya know, adult stuff?” Eddie blushes at the end. He’s acting like he hasn’t been whispering way worse things in Steve’s ear every night.

“First off, she won’t walk in on that. Apparently Max taught her about happy screams a long time ago.”

“Gross.”

“Yeaaa. Second, I’m pretty sure she’s asleep right now.”

Huh, now that Eddie thinks about it, he does hear soft little snores. Which is weird since neither he nor Steve snores, and they are both, ya know, awake.

“And I don’t think El speaking in a dark corner would have helped your fears. Like imagine just hear her soft “Hello” at 2 a.m.” Steve raises an eyebrow.

“I—okay I got nothing.”

“Fantastic can we go back to sleep now?”

Eddie gives one last shout, “You’re not going to stop her?”

“Are you going to tell her no? And make her worry?”

Eddie slinks down into the covers, “...no.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Eddie curves his body into Steve’s, seeking him out. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie, securing him to his chest. “Thank you for indulging me.”

Steve hums. “Anything for you baby. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Eddie kisses Steve lightly.

“I love you both as well.” El’s voice suddenly speaks into the silent room.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie screams.

Steve can’t help the giggles that come out of him. He tries to smother them into Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie can’t find it in himself to be mad.

———

some people seemed interested in more el + Steve sibling energy. And they are a sibling-like duo I love. So here’s a little something but more steddie involved. I think all three of their relationship would be very sweet. Both Eddie and Steve would protect el. I hope you enjoyed :)

#steddie #stranger things #el and Steve have a sibling relationship #el could set the world on fire and Steve would say good job #both Steve and Eddie have intrusive thoughts #they just go about it in different ways #Eddie Munson #eleven hopper #ficlet #fluff #steven harrington #my writing #no byler in this one sorry #steve harrington is a sweetheart #everybody lives/nobody dies #Post season 5 #steve x eddie

[derangedhermit]

Eddie falls in love with Steve in broad daylight. The middle of the day, sun high in the sky, heat radiating from the sidewalk kind of broad daylight. And it hits him like a truck. His heart thuds painfully in his chest. His hands are so sweaty that even the way he continuously rubs them down the front of his shirt doesn’t dry them. His mouth is desert dry and the 44oz soda he just had to buy at the gas station isn’t helping at all.

And Steve. Steve is blinding. Brighter than the sun. Tan and freckled. God does Eddie love his freckles. There isn’t a thing he doesn’t love about Steve.

“Are you listening to me, Munson?”

Steve smiles at him and it shatters his heart. What has he done to deserve Steve Harrington’s smiles because he’ll keep doing it. He has to keep earning them.

Robin’s waiting in the car and Steve’s arms are full with drinks and snacks for their day at the lake with the kids so he’s gotta make this quick. They’ve shared a few kisses before. Usually late at night when it’s just the two of them in Eddie’s trailer. Nothing like this though.

Eddie leans forward and presses his lips to Steve’s just as Robin lays on the horn.

“It’s about damn time! Pick up your jaw and get in the car, dingus. I want to get to the lake before noon,” she yells from her seat on the passenger side of Steve’s Beemer.

Eddie leaves him standing there. Gawking. Flushed. Looking more perfect than he did before Eddie kissed him. He slides into the backseat, accepting the fist bump Robin offers him.

His sunshine. ☀️

#headcanon #everybody lives/nobody dies #drabble #au #stranger things au #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #steddie brainrot #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie munson x steve harrington #eddie x steve #steve stranger things #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #fanfiction idea #fanfic idea #fic idea #ficlet #eddie munson loves steve harrington #robin buckley #robin buckley stranger things

[wangxianficrecs]

The Most Beautiful Man Alive (and his gremlin son) by meyari

The Most Beautiful Man Alive (and his gremlin son)

by meyari

T, 4k, Wangxian

Summary: There was never a time when Wei Wuxian wasn’t aware of it. The way people looked at him, even as a child, made it obvious. But there was a time when he didn’t realize just how much power the face he’d inherited from his father gave him. Once he knew, though, oh. Oh, things changed after that. Mojo's comments: Ahaha, this is precisely as delightful as you'd expect from the tin. (Even if it IS a bit dangerous to be so beautiful everyone wants to devour you.) The end cracked me up.

canon divergence, everybody lives/nobody dies, protective jiang yanli, protective jiang cheng, good parent jiang fengmian, protective yu ziyuan, crack treated seriously, beautiful wei wuxian, child wei wuxian, different first meeting

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

#Wangxian Fic Rec #The Untamed #Wangxian #MDZS #Mojo's Rec #October 2023 #Had to use the donghua because a) no good WCZ pictures from CQL and b) I still remember how hot and bothered we were when we first saw him #Also! A rec from Mojo! #The Most Beautiful Man Alive (and his gremlin son) #meyari #Teen #short fic <15k #canon divergence #everybody lives/nobody dies #protective jiang yanli #protective jiang cheng #good parent jiang fengmian #protective yu ziyuan #crack treated seriously #beautiful wei wuxian #child wei wuxian #different first meeting

[ami-neve]

For @teamminatoweek

Day 7: Welcome Baby Naruto

N.b. the quality is low but try to click .. maybe it gets better..

#teamminatoweek2022 #obito uchiha #kakshi hatake #rin nohara #naruto uzumaki #my art #everybody lives/nobody dies #they love each other #❤ #I'm always late.. #team minato #in the rush to finish quickly I had forgotten kk's scar!!

[ratsunie]

guys let him read his fantastic deep literature

#kakashi hatake #team minato #rin nohara #uchiha obito #they are judging him #hard #obito rin and kakashi #kakarin #obikaka #obirin #kakaobirin #im crazy about them let me tell you #everybody lives/nobody dies #its too much pain

[briqhtskye]

i could read an entire 300 page novel about shinjiro aragaki and would love every second of it

#shinjiro aragaki #persona 3 #persona 3 reload #i really could tbh #bonus if it’s x reader and nobody dies #everybody lives #extra bonus if he loves me tbh #i see me but i mean my p3 oc teehee #i just like him a lot ok :( #he’s everything to me

[teaforthotxxx]

Not me thinking of how hinny (harry x ginny) in the books would have gone if Jegulus and Marlily raised harry!!

Like Harry def told Mary and Lily first. Cause hes tryna attract a girl. WTF DO REGULUS AND JAMES know about getting a girl? Also, he wld def ask Mary how she got Lily cause Ginny looks like Lily. I think Marlene wld pull out Mary’s old diary and show Harry a page titled “PLANS TO GET RED”!! I think Mary wouldn’t be much help but Marlene definitely had a “HOW TO GET THE CUTE SLYTHERIN” and she would cancel the word slytherin and replace it with Chaser (Ginny).

I feel like he would only really involve his dads after he gets tgt with Ginny and realises he’s broken 1918827828 friendship codes by dating his best mate’s little sister (something James knows a thing or two abt). Obviously, James would pretend he’s above it all and say “just tell Ron. I mean at worst you get beat up. Padfoot chewed all of my red converses and ate my autographed quaffle. I’m sure Ron is wayyyyyy nicer.” Of course, Harry will tune that out the same way James tuned out Arthur’s same advice. Instead, he’ll look for the diabolical slytherin aka SLYTHERIN SKITTLES for help.

Big mistake: Barty and Dorcas are laughing so hard they fall down. Pandora who already knows how this is gonna end (cause she is a seer) is sighing. Evan is trying to help but can’t because AGAIN what does he know about girls? And also he’s engaged to an only child!! Regulus AKA Professor BLACK to the rest of the students is sighing and questioning how Harry not only managed to find but also date someone who is a mix of both himself and Lily (the two great loves of James’ life).

Unable to help, Regulus will probably refer him to Sirius (consult the enemy). Sirius is probably the last one to know about Hinny (naturally, Reg and Remus found out first cause they work at Hogwarts). He is definitely very salty about it (EVEN PETE knew before him). So, Sirius wouldn’t help his godson. He’d just say something about karma after Harry sasses him for the thirtieth that day.

Eventually, Harry gives up and comes clean to Ron. He braces himself but Ron just goes “oh ok. Sorry I already knew.” He was completely fine with it cause urm Ginny is her own person? And he respects her? So, Harry relaxes. He doesn’t have to sleep in the room of requirements for fear that Ron will send a rat to him. That is until he feels two identical hands on both sides of his shoulders. Fred and George Weasley are looking down at him with matching mischievous grins. “So you’re dating our little Ginny eh?”

#marauders #harry potter #hp fic #james potter #marauders era #jegulus #meta #peter pettigrew #remus lupin #everybody lives/nobody dies #mary macdonald #marlene mckinon #wolfstar #long post #drabble #slytherin skittles #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #hinny #ginny weasley #ron weasley

[martianbugsbunny]

Shoutout to Blink for making sure Charles and Erik got to spend their last moments together

#she was totally a cherik shipper #pretty sure everybody in that movie was tbh #xmen days of future past #xmen #xmen movies #xmen prequels #blink #xmen blink #cherik #Charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #Erik x charles #Charles x erik #really love blink for giving me the “dying together” scene I needed #bc if we're gonna live through an apocalypse and then reset the tl we're gonna do it with cherik dying together first #(one of my fave tropes btw) #(especially when nobody actually dies lol) #martianbugsbunny ships

[occudo]

Ooooo my Brain did a thing! What’s going on with the original Elias? Like seeing as so many dead characters are still alive in your au is the original Elias still kicking around up there?

uhh...😬

sorry

#gertrude is still around au ask #everybody lives/nobody dies who I like #sorry og elias #he is just more interesting as a body hopper old man

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

On Hiatus

The Punisher Masterlist

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings apply and are added as needed. Do not keep reading if you feel the subject matter of this work may upset you.

Contains: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, hospital, medical procedures, memory loss, rehab, discussions of past domestic violence, discussions of war and combat, PTSD, slow burn, smut, and violence. There will be more and I'll do my best to tag chapter by chapter, please don't hesitate to tell me if I've missed something. 

Each chapter should have a bit of everything, if it's tagged, it just means it's more than one sentence. More than one emoji dictates how graphic it is. Smut💦 Angst😨 Fluff ❤ Violence🔪 Gore🤢 Medical💉 Triggering material🚩

Comment if you want to be tagged or follow #a voice through the nothingness

Billy Russo did everything right, he turned down Rawlins, he told his friends the truth and he crawled his way to the top of the world. A run in with a nurse will change his life after he almost dies while protecting a man who hired Anvil under false pretence.

Part 1 🔪😨😨❤

Part 2❤😨❤

Part 3😨❤🚩❤

Part 4😨❤❤

Part 5😨❤❤

Part 6❤😨😨❤

Part 7😨😨🚩😨

Part 8😨❤

Part 9❤❤😨🚩❤

Part 10❤😨❤

Part 11😨🚩❤🚩

Part 12😨❤❤

#a voice through the nothingness #billy russo #the punisher #fix it fic #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo smut #ben barnes #the punisher fanfiction #billy russo x ofc #frank castle #karen page #everybody lives/nobody dies #curtis hoyle #daredevil

[foundtherightwords]

Same Streets, New Memories

Pairing: Eddie x Chrissy (No Vecna/No Upside Down AU)

Summary: Sixteen years after he got his diploma and ran like hell out of Hawkins, Eddie is forced to return home. Disappointed and disillusioned, he broods over his past failures, until a chance meeting with a certain former Queen of Hawkins High puts things into perspective for him.

A/N: This is mostly inspired by the song I Finally Love This Town by Tired Pony. Also, I've seen a lot of "rock star Eddie" fics, so I wanted to explore the opposite of that - what if he never made it big at all?

Warnings: angst (quarter-life crisis stuff - they're all in their mid-30s though, is that too late for a quarter-life crisis?), mentions of drug dealing, drug use, and drinking, some violence

Word count: 6.5k

"Hawkins!" the driver called out amidst the hissing of the brakes, jolting Eddie from the stupor he'd sank into since the Greyhound left Indianapolis. He sat up in his seat and rubbed his aching neck, trying to suppress a groan. Sometimes he'd forgotten he could no longer fall asleep in any position and wake up just fine. For one thing, he wasn't nineteen anymore; for another, all those years spent pretzeled up into all sorts of shapes in the van, on the floor, or on the couch of anyone kind enough to let him crash at their place, were catching up with him.

The bus door clunked open, and Eddie stepped off, blinking in the watery spring sun. It took him a while to recognize that Hawkins' Greyhound station was still in the same place—the parking lot of Palace Arcade and Family Video—because Family Video had been taken over by a Blockbuster, while a Starbucks had replaced the Palace.

It had been sixteen years since he left, and he wasn't prepared for the changes. They say you can never go home again. But what if the place had never felt like home in the first place?

He was one of the few that got off the bus. There were no familiar faces among the passengers or those that came to pick them up. All the better. He didn't want to see anyone he knew.

Hoisting his bag over his shoulder and picking up his guitar case, Eddie trudged toward Forest Hills Trailer Park. It was early March, yet the air was already muggy, even more uncomfortably so after the cool dryness of Los Angeles, and he ran an irritable hand through his fizzy hair, again regretting his decision to come home. Well, what were his options? Stay in LA and work some shitty job with shitty pay that couldn't even afford him a shitty apartment, or return to Hawkins and work some shitty job with shitty pay, but at least he could stay with Wayne in their shitty trailer so he could save money on rent? The second one was an obvious choice, even if it made his insides shrivel up in shame every time he paused long enough to think about it. The prodigal freak of Hawkins, slinking home with his tail between his legs... It'll be OK, he told himself without conviction. Humiliation rarely causes death.

As he walked through Hawkins, Eddie noticed all the changes in the landscape and the people, some subtle, some obvious, but changes nonetheless. Compared to the constant flux of LA, Hawkins seemed older, more tired, the people wearing a harsher look on their faces. He wondered how much of the changes came from himself.

At the turnoff, he almost collided with some spotty-faced kids rolling past on their skateboards. "Watch it, old man!" one of them yelled. The word stung. Eddie thought about giving them a piece of his mind, but thought better of it once he got a closer look at them. Jesus, did he ever look that young? He must have. And thirty-six is not old. Yet, watching those kids, with their frosted tips and the hems of their jeans dragging in the dust, he felt ancient, like Rip Van Winkle returning from his twenty-year-long sleep in the mountains.

But that feeling waned, the closer he got to the trailer. In fact, by the time he pushed open the door, it was as if no time had passed at all, and he was ten years old, getting dropped off by Hopper after Al got arrested yet again. By that point, Eddie had gotten used to staying with Wayne whenever his old man got into trouble, and neither of them had noticed when that particular stay had extended from days into weeks into months and finally years.

The trailer was a time capsule. There was the prehistoric TV by the door, the old faded rug on the floor, the cramped, messy kitchen. All the mugs and hats he'd given Wayne for Christmases and birthdays still lined the walls. It had started sort of as a joke one Christmas, when Eddie first started living with Wayne and couldn't think of a present for him. He had found a Garfield mug and bought it with the little money he had. Wayne had laughed upon opening it and given it the place of honor on the shelf over the TV. And so for Wayne's birthday next year, Eddie had bought him another mug, and another for Christmas, occasionally throwing in a hat just to keep Wayne on his toes, until it had become a tradition and Wayne had to put up new shelves around the living room for the mugs.

Eddie still remembered the Christmas he'd given Wayne a "World's Best Dad" mug.

"I'm sorry, they didn't have a 'World's Best Uncle' one," he'd mumbled apologetically. Wayne had said nothing, only clearing his throat and giving Eddie a tight hug.

And there was Wayne himself. Eddie looked at his uncle with sadness. When had Wayne become so worn out? Ever since Eddie knew him, he had seemed to have been born old, always of some undetermined age between forty-five and sixty, yet full of a quiet energy that never went out. Now, slumped in the rocking chair in front of the droning TV, he looked shrunk, a tired old man. Guilt pricked at Eddie's insides. He'd promised himself the first thing he'd do when Corroded Coffin got big was to get Wayne out of the trailer park and into a decent house, and not only had he failed, but he also had to ask Wayne to take him back.

Eddie sighed and gave Wayne's shoulder a gentle shake. The old man opened his eyes, blinking at his nephew.

"You're home," he said, as if Eddie had just left the previous day.

Eddie wondered if he'd ever really felt at home anywhere. Here, in this rundown trailer, with his gruff but kind uncle, was probably the closest he'd ever gotten. "Yeah," he said simply. "I'm home."

***

Eddie got a job as a bartender at the Hideout.

He suspected that Lenny, the owner, gave him the job for old times' sake more than anything, but it suited him just fine. It meant he got to go to work when most of the townspeople were already on their way home, so fewer chances of running into people he knew. Besides, those that knew him and might mock him didn't usually frequent the Hideout.

It didn't pay that well, and Eddie wondered if the idea of raising enough money to self-produce and release the next Corroded Coffin album was even plausible. He briefly considered dealing again. But even back in high school, he had never made much money from it, mostly just enough to buy a new record now and then. And he couldn't risk getting arrested. Plus, even if he wanted to, he wouldn't even know where to begin now.

"I had to get out, man," said Reefer Rick, when Eddie dropped by his house on Lover's Lake one afternoon. "Kids these days, they're so much tougher. Cannier. And they deal with the hard stuff. I couldn't keep up. I had this place. I had a nice bit of money put away. So I got out while I could." Rick was well on his way to middle age now, spending most of the time sitting on the porch drinking or even fishing on the lake, like those bozos they used to make fun of back in the day, and, oddly enough, he seemed content. Eddie envied him that.

Rick was one of the few old friends that Eddie saw. Eddie found his initial fear about running into people he knew laughable now, because there was almost no one left. All his friends from high school had moved away. His bandmates, Jeff and Grant, had gone to LA with him after graduation, but Gareth, who'd graduated a year later, never made it. "Sorry, man, my mom wants me to stay close," he'd said. They had found a replacement for him, but it was never quite the same.

One Sunday, Eddie ran into Gareth at the store. Gareth recognized him first, and no wonder—Gareth's hair was now cropped short, making his cherubic face look tired and much older than his thirty-three years.

"Holy shit, man, when did you get back?" he asked, giving Eddie a bear hug.

"Gareth, language!" hissed the woman holding a baby, standing just behind them at the check-out line.

"Sorry, hun," Gareth muttered and gave Eddie an embarrassed grin.

They caught up at the Hideout that night. Eddie was relieved to be able to unload to Gareth all about the band's struggle, as he knew no one else would understand. Gareth was understanding, but Eddie couldn't help feeling that his old friend was congratulating himself for not following them to LA and subjecting himself to such hardship. A boring life with a boring job and a boring wife in boring Hawkins was preferable to that. And then Gareth's pager beeped and he excused himself to get home because his wife needed help with the baby, and that was that.

The rest of Eddie's Hellfire buddies, all those lost sheep he'd taken under his wings, were gone too. Henderson was in MIT, working on his PhD. He still sent Eddie a Christmas card every year. Byers, the only one who could rival Eddie as a DM, was in California after Mrs. Byers and Hopper got married and moved the whole clan there, but they were in San Bernardino or somewhere, and Eddie never ran into them in LA. Wheeler had also gone to school there—he was dating Hopper's daughter at the time, if Eddie remembered correctly—and stayed. Sinclair, who had turned out better than Eddie had expected, given his association with the jocks, was working in Indianapolis. They had all done well for themselves.

So perhaps it was a good thing that they weren't here to see their fallen leader.

***

But not everyone left Hawkins. Some stayed. And sometimes, those who stayed were the fucking worst.

It was a usual night at the Hideout, with the regular crowd of five drunks. Nobody paid attention to the band, some lame punk cover act. Eddie wanted to feel bad for the band, remembering that Corroded Coffin had once been in their shoes, but he couldn't muster up the sympathy. Looking at their carefully ripped clothes and perfectly coifed hair, he knew this was just a hobby for them, a pastime to make themselves look cool, and could be easily left behind when they went back to the safety of their parents' houses and their cushy little lives. Then he caught himself and shook his head. Jesus, when did he become so bitter?

A group of men burst through the door, their raucous shouts and laughter putting an end to his dark thoughts. Eddie barely glanced at them. He'd seen enough of those, both in the few weeks he'd been working at the bar and back when he was playing here with Corroded Coffin. Suburban dads, most of them, out on their allotted once-per-week guys' night. Bored with the usual, they decided to check out the Hideout as the most underground place Hawkins had to offer. Ha. They wouldn't know underground even if they woke up buried in a six-foot grave.

Silently, he filled their orders and gave them to Trish, the server. She was one of the new hires—just out of school, barely old enough to be working at a bar—so Eddie made it a point to watch out for her when he could. "You'll be OK with those?" he asked, indicating the men sitting in their booth.

"Nothing I haven't seen before," she replied, though her face was grim.

The group stayed for a long time. As the night went on, they became louder, more obnoxious, and the grim set of Trish's mouth started to waver. She tried to act tough, but she was just a kid, really, and she was no match for those men.

After Trish brought the men their third rounds of tequila shots, Eddie heard a yell coming from the booth. "Get your hand off me!" It was Trish. She was grappling with one of the men, who was holding her by the waist, trying to pull her into the booth with him.

Eddie looked around. The band was gone, having finished their sets more than half an hour ago. Lenny wasn't even in. With a sigh, Eddie left the bar and approached the booth.

"Do we have a problem here?" he said.

"Damn right we do," said the man holding Trish. "You'd better teach your staff to be friendlier to the customers!"

"They are friendly. To those who can keep their hands to themselves," Eddie said, taking Trish's hand and pulling her up. She gave him a grateful look and scurried to the back.

The man got unsteadily to his feet. "Watch your fucking mouth," he snarled, giving Eddie a shove.

Eddie seized the man's wrist. "What did I say about keeping your hands to yourself?"

The man winced, and his friends glanced at each other, worried. "Fuck," the man said. Then he took a closer look at Eddie, and his eyes popped. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "Munson? Eddie 'The Freak' Munson?"

Eddie's stomach dropped, and his grip on the man's wrist loosened. He stared back at the man. Square jaws, a low forehead, and small, arrogant eyes. Loathing stirred his memories. His mind's eye added a letterman jacket and a baseball hat, and the man's features solidified. One of Jason Carver's cronies from the basketball team. What was his name?

The man's mouth lifted in a mocking smile. "Well, well, well. What happened to 'fuck this town', Munson?"

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Eddie said, ignoring the question.

"What are you going to do, kick me out?"

"Yes."

The others exchanged glances again, and Eddie was aware of how he looked in their eyes—a tall, intimidating guy in a leather jacket. Someone you don't want to mess with. One of them put his hand on the square-jawed man's shoulder. "Come on, Andy." Andy. That was it.

Andy jerked his shoulder away. "Don't let this freak scare you. All bark and no bite, aren't you, Munson?" he said, grinning at Eddie. "Just like in high school."

Eddie tried to swallow the hot gust of anger rising to his throat. "My bark is actually worse," he said evenly. "If you refuse to leave, I'm going to call the police."

Andy's friends had had enough. "Let's go, man. It's getting late anyway."

They filed out of the booth, throwing down money as they went. Andy still stared at Eddie, his already small eyes narrowed into angry slits, while his friends dragged him away.

***

After the bar closed, Eddie made sure that Trish was picked up by her boyfriend. It was four in the morning by the time he finished cleaning up and locking the door. As he walked through the parking lot that was still steeped in darkness, a voice called out, "Munson!"

Eddie turned around. It was Andy, standing by a car. What the hell?

"You really humiliated me tonight, you know that?" Andy said. By the slurring of his voice, his drinking hadn't stopped after he left the Hideout.

"You must have a really fragile ego, if that was enough to humiliate you," Eddie said, continuing to walk.

"Don't act all high and mighty with me, freak," Andy growled. "You were nothing in high school, and you're nothing now."

A haze of red came over Eddie's eyes, but he tried to keep it in check as he turned around.

"Hey man, I don't know what your problem is—" he began, but before he could finish, a fist landed on his cheek. Since said fist belonged to a guy who wasn't even standing straight, it didn't hurt much, but the surprise threw Eddie off his balance. Andy used the momentum to grab Eddie's shoulder and yank him down. Eddie's face collided with the car's side-view mirror.

Dazed, Eddie sat on the ground and touched his cheek. It stung where the mirror cut him, and his fingers came away wet with blood.

The haze of red slammed over his eyes again.

He jumped up and lunged at Andy.

What followed was a blur of punches, some connecting, either with flesh or metal, but most didn't. The more he missed, the angrier Eddie got. As if this bastard hadn't made his life miserable enough back in high school, he had to come to his work and attacked him as well. And for what? For ruining his night out with his buddies? As far as Eddie could see, Andy was doing a pretty good job of that himself.

Finally, Eddie had Andy by his neck against the car.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" he roared.

"Fuck you, fucking freak!" Andy spat out.

Suddenly the fight went out of Eddie. What the hell were they doing, two grown men having a pathetic drunken brawl over some imagined animosity nearly twenty years ago? He let go. Andy sank to the ground, and Eddie staggered away.

***

His cheek throbbing, Eddie found his way into the woods surrounding Hawkins. He couldn't let Wayne see him in this state. Better to walk off some steam and come up with some excuse before facing his uncle.

At this hour, the sun was not up yet, but it was no longer pitch dark. The woods lay silent under a cold gray half-light that sapped everything of color and life. The only sound was the squishing of the wet, dead leaves of many winters under his feet, and the only movement, other than his own, was the drip-drip-drip of water, either rain or dew, from the new buds onto his head. Irritated, he reached up to rub the wetness out of his scalp, and winced as he accidentally touched the cut on his face.

He shouldn't have let Andy get to him. The encounter left a sour taste in his mouth and a heavy weight, like a lead ball, in his guts. It wasn't simply anger or shame, or rather, it wasn't his usual shame of being a failure. It was the shame of feeling like he and Andy were similar. He hated the idea that he could have something in common with that jerk, but there it was. It was like they were still teenagers, ready to use their fists at the merest hint of an offense, always trying to prove themselves, trying to be cooler than this or that person. Eddie thought he'd grown out of that high school mentality, but apparently not. It only took coming back to Hawkins, being amongst these people, to bring out that aggressive side of him.

Perhaps coming home was a mistake.

A rustling made him look up. It was light enough now for him to glimpse, through the trees, a figure in a tracksuit, a jogger, a woman, blond hair bobbing along with her steps, running toward him. Shit. He didn't want to run into anyone, especially not right now, skulking through the woods with dry blood down his face and caked on his knuckles. They'd think he was a serial killer or something.

Eddie whirled around, trying to blend into the trees before he and the jogger crossed paths. A branch smacked him in the face, blinding him, making him lose his footing. He took a stumbling step back. The embankment he was standing on, already weak from the endless rain of the past week, gave way, and before he knew it, Eddie was plummeting down a slope, dead branches and rocks scratching at his face and arms as he went.

For a moment, he lay sprawled at the bottom of the slope, blinking up at the green dome above him, too stunned to move.

Then a face appeared in his view. A woman's face, full of concern.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

Then the concern on her face slowly dissipated, replaced by surprise and recognition.

"Eddie Munson, as I live and breathe," she said. "I almost didn't recognize you with that beard." When Eddie didn't answer, she gave him a teasing smile. "Don't you remember me?" She extended a hand to help him up.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could sink into the earth and disappear right there and then. But when the trees remained above him, and the musty earth remained underneath him, he had no choice but to accept the helping hand and get to his feet.

"Hi, Chrissy," he said.

***

Chrissy Cunningham. The last person he'd want to run into, especially in his current state.

Though her hair was shorter and held back with a headband instead of pulled into a ponytail, she still looked exactly as he remembered, as she had in high school, those wide blue eyes, that bright smile showing a hint of her crooked front teeth. Next to her, Eddie felt like a tramp. Probably looked like a tramp too.

"You OK?" she asked, taking in his bedraggled and bloodied appearance.

"Uh, yeah."

"That's a nasty cut right there," she said, pointing to his elbow. It was only then that Eddie felt the searing pain. He must've snatched it on a rock or a broken branch. "You should get that cleaned up, or it'll get infected." Without waiting for an answer, she took his other elbow and guided him up the other side of the slope. "Let me go grab a first-aid kit from school, and I can take care of that for you."

"What school?"

Chrissy stared at him. "Hawkins High, of course."

"Are we that close?"

"Don't you recognize this part of the woods?"

They were up on the opposite side of the slope now, and Eddie saw an old picnic table and bench set, all rusty and weather-beaten, by a tree stump that stood like a sentinel over the place. He immediately recognized it. He must've been too pissed off about his encounter with Andy to realize where he was walking.

"Wait here," Chrissy said. "I'll be back in a minute."

As she jogged off, Eddie thought about running away himself. But that would be ridiculous. She'd already seen him. How embarrassing would it be if she came back and found out he'd ran away like some coward? Besides, the fall had left him too sore to move. He gingerly sat down on one of the benches, afraid it would collapse from his weight, and cast a look around. Back in his schooldays, this had been the hangout for the stoners and the burnouts, and there had always been some empty beer cans and cigarette stubs scattered about. Now add to that some old needles, and he could've sworn he saw a used condom too. Jesus. Even this place had gone to the dogs.

What twist of fate had sent him here, and into the path of Chrissy Cunningham, of all people?

Of all the drug spots in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine...

Before he could contemplate that, Chrissy was back, bringing with her a first-aid kit. "So when did you get back?" she asked, lifting Eddie's elbow and cleaning the wound with practiced hands.

"A few weeks ago," Eddie replied, trying not to hiss at the sting of the rubbing alcohol.

"Are you just visiting? You're some big rock star out on the West Coast now, aren't you?"

Eddie was glad that her face was bent over his elbow, so she couldn't see the half-downcast, half-furtive look on his face. But his honesty won out. "Hardly," he mumbled. "Our albums sold like twenty copies each, and I think Jeff's mom—you know Jeff, right?—I think his mom bought most of them." He chuckled to show that he was joking, and Chrissy smiled back.

"I'd love to have a listen," she said. He knew she was just saying that to be polite, but it didn't stop butterflies from fluttering in his stomach. "I know it's not the same as seeing you guys live..." She lifted her eyes briefly to his face, before looking down again. "I always regret not making it to one of your shows at the Hideout, you know."

Eddie stared at her bent head, not knowing what to say. Being here with her and talking about Corroded Coffin and the Hideout brought back memories of another day in March, sixteen years ago. Back then, he'd felt, if not on top of the world, then at least pretty near it.

And that night... if he hadn't felt on top of the world that afternoon when he made Chrissy Cunningham laugh, then he'd certainly felt it that night.

It felt just like yesterday, the two of them driving back to his trailer after the successful conclusion of his Cult of Vecna campaign, trying the Special K, and then just staying up and talking. He couldn't remember what they'd talked about. All he remembered was a sense of... not happiness, exactly, but contentment, and it wasn't because of the Special K. No, it was because Chrissy had been there and she'd felt safe with him, and he with her.

He had never asked why she'd wanted to try the Special K. Later, as he drove her home, she'd asked him to drop her off a little further away so she could walk to her front door, and he'd guessed the reason, but hadn't pressed her about it.

"Sure, no problem," he'd only said, watching the way she twisted her fingers in her lap and fighting the urge to reach out, to put his hand over hers, and tell her everything would be alright. "I'll stay here and keep watch until you're inside."

She'd said thank and leaned over, perhaps to plant a kiss on his cheek, but at the same time, he'd turned his head to tell her "You're welcome", and the kiss had landed on his mouth instead. They'd both jolted back, embarrassed, only to be drawn back toward each other, inexorably, irresistibly, until her lips had found his again, deliberately this time. He still remembered the softness of her mouth, the taste of her lip gloss, the way she'd melted into his arms as he pulled her close...

He should've known it was too good to be true.

Queens of Hawkins High don't go around kissing freaks.

Chrissy had pulled away from him abruptly, ran out of his van, and disappeared into the night. When they got back to school after spring break, she'd actively avoided him.

Looking back, he realized that had been the first in the long string of disappointments that was to be his life for the following sixteen years.

And now here she was, talking as if nothing had happened.

It still stung, but he tried not to let it show.

"I didn't know you were in town," he said, changing the subject.

"Oh, I moved back a couple of years ago."

That surprised him. After leaving Hawkins, he'd tried hard not to think about Chrissy, but when he did, usually after some heavy drinking or after a late gig, when he felt particularly lonely, he'd imagined that she was leading a perfect life somewhere. Moving back to this shithole didn't seem that perfect.

And if she was here and Jason wasn't, that meant...

Eddie found himself glancing at her hand. No ring.

"My dad's passed, and my mom's had a stroke, so I moved back to help out," she explained. Eddie could feel all the years apart stretching out between them like a gulf. Their lives were so separate, so different.

"Shit. That's rough. I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "Moving back was a relief. I wasn't doing great in Chicago anyway. Divorced, working a dead-end job..."

"Oh. Sorry." Then, because he couldn't help himself: "Jason?"

She actually laughed, but there was no bitterness in it. "No. We broke up right after graduation. Just a few days after you left, in fact. He's married with a couple of kids now, living in Bloomington, I think."

She remembered when he left? Nah, don't be stupid. She only remembered 'cause that was when she broke up with that prick...

"What about you?" Chrissy asked.

"Me?"

"You married?" Was it his imagination, or did her nonchalance seem a little forced?

Eddie smiled ruefully. "Almost did, once."

"What happened?"

"She wised up." After that, it was just a string of fleeting relationships and meaningless hook-ups. More disappointments.

They talked about their classmates for a while—Nancy, Wheeler's sister, Miss Valedictorian, now a journalist in New York, Robin Buckley and Vickie Ryan, who shocked Hawkins when they started dating after graduation and then moved away together, and Billy Hargrove, the bad boy of their class, who was killed in a car accident in '92.

"Shit. Sounds like everybody left Hawkins," he said.

"Some stay. Some even came back," she said, gesturing to him and herself.

"That's only because they have no choice."

"No, I think it's nice to come back to a familiar place. You always know where you are. And if the place's changed... well, you've changed too, so that's even."

He hadn't thought of it like that. Suddenly the whole moving back home thing didn't seem so bad after all.

"You should be a motivational speaker, Cunningham," he said, trying to sound dry. "Have you considered that as a career?"

"I already kind of am, with the cheer squad."

"You're still cheering?"

"No, coaching." She perked up. "Didn't I tell you? I'm the cheer coach at Hawkins High now. Hard to believe, right?"

"No, not at all. You were always good at that." He remembered Chrissy in middle school, how young they'd been, how enthusiastic—how long ago was that, over twenty years? Jesus. No wonder he felt old.

"The only thing I'm good at, you mean."

"No, no," Eddie quickly said. "Well, you're good at this too," he added lamely, indicating the first-aid kit.

"I did study to be an RN." She finished bandaging up the large wound on his elbow and moved on to his other cuts and scrapes.

"So why—"

"Dropped out my third year." There was an awkward silence, but Chrissy didn't seem embarrassed. "I just couldn't cope with the stress, and there was no one to sell me half an ounce of weed at a discount," she said, twinkling at him, and he couldn't help smiling back at her.

That smile disappeared when Chrissy asked, "So, any exciting new project with Corroded Coffin coming soon?" Seeing Eddie's face fall, she sobered up. "I'm sorry, was that—"

"No, it's OK."

Eddie felt like opening up to her. Perhaps they weren't so different after all. Perhaps she'd understand.

"Well"—here Eddie took a deep breath, and the truth he'd been hiding came out in a rush—"there won't be any new stuff. Not for a while anyway. We got dropped by the label. The last album didn't sell that well, so they dropped us."

And there it was. The reason why he had to come home, the reason he felt like a failure. It had taken them years to get signed, and when it was only to an indie label, he and the guys had told themselves it was for the best, it would give them more independence. As it turned out, an indie label was less likely to interfere with their creative process, it was true, but it didn't interfere much with anything else either. They were left floundering, having to do almost everything themselves. Ten years of that would put a strain on anyone.

Without Gareth, they went through a string of replacement drummers, none lasting more than a few years, since they had never been part of Hellfire and didn't share their camaraderie. Then, when the label dropped them, it had been the last straw. They had held on for as long as they could, but eventually, when Grant and Jeff quit, Eddie had no choice but to quit as well. Grant had gone back to Hawkins for a while, then left again, having found a job in Detroit. Jeff, the rock of their group, was the only one who stayed in LA, working as a session musician. He had tried to convince Eddie to stay as well, but Eddie couldn't stand watching some other bands hit it big while he was forced to play someone else's music. To him, it would be a special form of Hell. So he'd gone home, feeling like he'd failed his bandmates, his uncle, and himself.

Chrissy listened to all that in sympathetic silence. No judging, no mocking, no clichéd advice or words of encouragement, just a softening of her eyes and a gentle squeeze of her hand on his arms as she placed Band-Aids on his cuts.

"Do you ever feel like you're a failure?" he asked, by way of a conclusion.

She peered at him for a moment before answering. "Oh just... you know, on a daily basis."

Those words rang a bell in Eddie's mind. He looked up to see Chrissy grinning crookedly at him, but there was some self-deprecation in that grin that made him realize how tactless his question had been.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean—"

"No, it's OK." Her smile got a little brighter. "I don't mind being a failure. Takes a lot of pressure off." When he raised a questioning eyebrow at that, she continued, "When you're already a failure, people don't expect much from you. You're free to live your life how you want, no need to live up to anyone's bullshit standard."

Eddie tilted his head to look at Chrissy more closely and realized his first impression of her had been wrong. She had changed. He could hardly recognize her from the nervous girl who jumped at the mere cracking of a branch when they met at this very bench sixteen years ago. She seemed... not exactly more confident, but rather, she no longer cared what others thought of her. Still, even back then, there had been a wild streak in her, a devil-may-care attitude that had driven her to buy drugs from him and agreed to come back to his trailer with him. Time and experiences had mellowed it, but it was still there. The same wild streak that had drawn him to her in the first place.

Chrissy finished with his arms and stood up so she could clean the cuts on his face.

"Do you remember that night before spring break, back in '86?" she said.

Their eyes met, and he held his breath. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I ran off like that. I'm sorry I ignored you in school afterward. It was—stupid of me. I cared too much about what other people thought."

So she remembered. And understood.

Eddie let out a breath, not just the one he'd been holding, but also the one that had his chest in a tight grip ever since he moved back home. With that breath, he also let go of all the heartache, guilt, and shame of the past. None of it mattered anymore. If he kept clinging to them, he would be no better than Andy.

He reached for Chrissy's hand, which was resting on his cheek. "You're not the only one," he said.

As she looked into his eyes, he would've given anything to be able to stay like that forever, with Chrissy standing over him, her face bent toward his, their hands intertwined, and the sun shining softly through the trees behind her, turning her gold hair into a perfect halo.

A branch snapped somewhere in the woods, breaking the spell.

Eddie cursed under his breath. His only consolation was that Chrissy was looking slightly flustered and disappointed, while she packed up the first-aid kit.

As she turned to leave, Chrissy blurted out, "Why don't you come to the game this Friday night? It'll be a walk down memory lane—oh, sorry." She winced. "I forgot that you don't care about—what did you call it? A game where you—"

"—where you toss balls into laundry baskets," Eddie said with a rueful smile. "I did say a lot of stupid shit back then. No, you don't have to apologize. It's just that—I have to work Friday night."

"Oh."

"But you're welcome at the Hideout anytime," he said, emboldened by her crestfallen look. "Drinks are on me."

Her face brightened. "I'll hold you to that."

"So... guess I'll see you around then?" he asked.

"Looks like it." She flashed him another crooked smile and walked off, while Eddie remained at the bench, feeling like he was fourteen again.

***

Wayne came out of the bedroom to find his nephew sitting on the fold-out bed. When Eddie first came home, Wayne had tried to give the bedroom back, saying the fold-out had served him well for ten years and would serve him well again, but Eddie had vehemently refused. His reason was that he was the one working nights now, and he didn't want to wake Wayne up when he came home early in the morning. In the end, Wayne had relented. He knew Eddie's guilt about having to move back in with him; no need to make the boy feel worse than he already did.

Eddie's face was bruised and bandaged, but he was looking more content than Wayne had ever seen him since he came home. And he had taken his guitar out of its case and was strumming a soft melody, occasionally stopping to jot something down in a battered old notebook in front of him. Wayne took that as a good sign.

"Mornin'," he said, shuffling toward the kitchen, making no comment on Eddie's late return or injuries. "You want some breakfast?"

"Hmm," Eddie replied distractedly, his attention still on the notebook.

It was his first attempt at writing a song in about eight months. He was a little rusty, but it felt good to pick up the guitar.

They say you can never go home again. But what if you can make the place feel like home? By peopling it with those that you know and love, and those that know you and, perhaps, if not love, then at least like you back?

She'd asked him to a game.

She'd said she'd see him around.

Maybe he could get someone to cover his shift...

"Hey Wayne," Eddie said, looking up from his guitar. "You ever watch a basketball game at Hawkins High?"

Wayne turned away from the pan of sizzling bacon to eye Eddie suspiciously. "Since when did you become interested in high school basketball?"

"Since today."

"Why?"

"No reason." Eddie shrugged, then he grinned, that familiar ear-to-ear grin that Wayne hadn't seen in a long, long time. "Just wondering if I could suffer through it this Friday night."

A/N: OK, I meant for this to be a one-shot, but my brain kept screaming at me to add more, so maybe I will expand on it later… not as a full multi-chaptered fic, but as a series of interconnected one-shots. We'll see.

#hellcheer #eddissy #hellcheersource #hellcheer fic #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #eddie x chrissy #chrissy x eddie #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fic #everybody lives/nobody dies #older eddie munson #one shot

[derangedhermit]

Eddie being a softboi and craving constant physical touch is a favorite of mine.

Imagine it. Steve Harrington isn’t really a cuddly kind of guy. His parents didn’t show him how to be. Nancy isn’t warm and fuzzy. Robin’s touchy by not in the soft and gentle way. The kids are at that age where it’s embarrassing to always be hanging off each other. So he just assumes he’s not into that kind of physical contact.

Along comes Eddie Munson. He loves long hugs. Like, LOVES them. So much so that he’s constantly grabbing Steve up and just squeezing him around his middle. The first few times it happens Steve keeps his arms down at his sides, not really sure what Eddie’s trying to get from him.

“You gotta hug me back, man.”

Steve learns to love touch through Eddie. He starts initiating his own big hugs, pulling Eddie in by the waist and laying his head on his shoulder. The hugs get longer and longer until they morph into something else entirely. Eddie and Steve never separate. If they’re together, they’re touching. Holding hands. In each other’s personal space. Cuddling on the couch in the trailer or in Steve’s bed.

To Steve, it feels like he falls for Eddie so goddamn fast. They’re on the couch in the trailer when he tells him. Steve’s stretched out with Eddie on top of him. Eddie’s head is on his chest and Steve can’t resist running his fingers through those beautiful curls. He hears Wayne puttering around in the kitchen, but he’s too comfortable turn his head and see what he’s up to.

“I think you’re my boyfriend,” he says it so low that he thinks Eddie doesn’t here him.

Wayne snorts and Eddie pulls himself up a bit to look down at Steve’s face.

“You asking me out, Stevie?”

Steve shakes his head and cups Eddie’s cheek.

“I don’t think I have to. I think it’s more than that. We just know, right?”

Steve leans up just enough to touch his lips to Eddie’s.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

#stranger things au #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #everybody lives/nobody dies #steddie #steddie brainrot #eddie munson x steve harrington #eddie x steve #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington stranger things #steve stranger things #steve Harrington #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #ficlet #Drabble #fanfiction idea #fanfic idea #fic idea #steve and eddie are in love #steve Harrington and eddie Munson are in love #your honor they’re in love #headcanon #alternate universe/no upside down

[wangxianficrecs]

the universe would turn to a mighty stranger by RavenclawLoki

the universe would turn to a mighty stranger

by RavenclawLoki

T, 11k, Wangxian

Summary: “I understand many of you may not be taking this indoctrination to heart.” Wen Chao pompous voice rang through, finally breaking the silence. If Wei Ying was next to him, he would roll his eyes so dramatically that Lan Wangji would be able to hear it - the thought comforts him. “Which pains me; submitting to the rules will makes this a much more pleasant experience. This is supposed to be educational for all of us. So, in case any of you aren’t taking this seriously still…” He eyes traveled to his side where two guards holding something lifeless by either arm, walking towards Wen Chao and the teens following his gaze. Nie Huaisang stiffened next to him. Jiang Wanyin screamed his brother’s name. Jin Zixuan’s inhaled sharply. But all Lan Wangji saw was Wei Ying.

Kay's comments: This fic offers some delicious, delicious angst. In which, after Wei Wuxian spent a night in the dungeons during the indoctrination, his "corpse" is dropped in front of the others the next day to make a point and to show them that actions have dire consequences. Wei Wuxian isn't dead of course and instead scheming with Wen Qing and Wen Ning and only pretending to be dead, but still, his little stint definitely inspires some confessions! Also, Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng are forced to be roommates while they still think that Wei Wuxian is dead and well. Hopeful ending because this story kick-starts a canon-divergent timeline that might end up being better than canon!

Excerpt: “Was your little mission worth Wei Wuxian’s life?” If Jiang Wanyin’s voice cracked at the question, who was going to judge? Lan Wangji stiffened. No. Of course not, how could he – how dare he? “No,” Lan Wangji snarled. A small part of him knew that Jiang Wanyin was grieving in his own way, anger and resentment outweighing his grief and despair; Lan Wangji should keep silent, let him rage…but fury was overwhelming him. Nothing was worth Wei Ying’s pain. Jiang Wanyin scoffed bitterly. "I thought it was against your precious sect rules to lie.” Lan Wangji eyes narrowed dangerously. “It is.” “Oh look, he does have emotions,” Jiang Wanyin’s scathing laugh of worthy of Wen Chao’s. “It only took getting someone killed. How sweet.”

pov lan wangji, canon divergence, the untamed compliant, yin iron, qishan wen indoctrination, assumed major character death, angst with a happy ending, angst and hurt/comfort, hopeful ending, getting together, love confessions, first kiss, everybody lives/nobody dies, good friend wen ning, good sibling jiang cheng

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

#Wangxian Fic Rec #The Untamed #wangxian #MDZS #Kay's Rec #pov lan wangji #canon divergence #the untamed compliant #yin iron #qishan wen indoctrination #assumed major character death #angst with a happy ending #angst and hurt/comfort #hopeful ending #getting together #love confessions #first kiss #everybody lives/nobody dies #good friend wen ning #good sibling jiang cheng #teen #short fic <15k #RavenclawLoki #the universe would turn to a mighty stranger