THE Pogues returned to the OBX that morning.

It was a surreal feeling. Eden couldn't help the smile that grew on her face as they motored through the familiar marsh of the Outer Banks—the same marshes the HMS Pogue sped through a month ago. She was finally home. 

 It was the crack of dawn when the Chateau came into view. An orange sunrise painted the sky, drowning all of the teens in a tangerine glow. Despite her shitty sleep, Eden didn't feel very tired at all. Her adrenaline and excitement were too present.

"Welcome to the Outer Banks, Cleo." Pope is the first to speak as they dock the boat, stopping the engine. 

"You're crazy, Pope." Cleo let out a light scoff. During their cruise home, Pope and Eden had both offered her refuge at their house—the girl had nowhere to stay, unlike everyone else. She'd taken up the Heyward's, but still found it odd he was actually letting her follow him home. "Your parents are not gonna appreciate me shackin' up." 

Pope assured the curly haired girl, "Of course they will. Are you kidding?" 

Eden doesn't doubt Pope's words, yet she isn't sure that Heyward would be thrilled that his son was bringing home a random girl to stay with them after being missing for a month—then again, Heyward was Heyward. He had a heart, and Cleo was a golden girl to bring back. 

"Heyward might put you to work,  but we could always use the help." the Heyward finishes. 

Cleo sighs. "I don't know, man. You sure?" 

"Yeah, look, he might squawk a little bit, but let me talk to him." Pope puts a hand on the girl's shoulders, trying to make her feel less tense. Eden had noticed the two were thick as thieves suddenly—literally, given they'd stolen snacks during a gas stop.

Eden slightly laughs, "Oh, he will squawk. But, he'll like your work ethic, Cleo. He might let you stay just for that." She pauses for a moment before adding, "But if he doesn't, my offer is still open."

Cleo hums, "Thanks, girl." 

"We'll figure it out." Pope nods firmly. He'd do whatever it took for his dad to allow Cleo to stay.

Kiara speaks up, a smile cracking on her face as she gestures to the Chateau, "Well, Cleo, this is our real home. I present you with the Chat." 

The Chateau was a far cry from the sandy shore and palm trees of Poguelandia, but it had its own charm. The house meant a lot more to the Pogues than it's worn wood exterior showed—it was full of warmth and laughter. Of family. 

"It's a bit of a junker." Cleo barely blinks at the run-down shack.

"It is. The fan breaks about every week." Eden admits in a sigh, thinking back to all the times Pope has appeared at an ungodly hour with a ladder to try and fix the fan. "But, you know, it's home." 

Kiara nudges the new girl, "I'd be careful what you say when John B. comes into earshot, he might cry if he here's you say shit."

"No, Cleo, I give you permission to shit-talk the house." Eden states. She'd been shit-talking the house since she first stepped foot in it. "It's kinda funny."

JJ comments, "Funny until he doesn't talk to you for a week." 

"That's only happened to you—" 

Sarah interrupts the conversation, standing up in the boat with a hopeful expression. "I hope he's here."

Out of anyone, Sarah certainly hadn't tried to catch any sleep since they left John B. on the island. The phone call eased her slightly, yet Eden could still see the pile of nerves that weighed on her shoulders—what if something happened because they left him? What if he'd said something dire in the call and she'd misheard a key detail?

"He'll be here." Eden reassures, meeting the girls gaze. "He said Kildare."

"You two ready?" Pope looks at the blonde and brunette. 

Sarah had been set on going to the Chateau the moment they returned home—she didn't really have a family to visit—and Eden had decided that she would follow. While she did want to see her dad, she wanted to check on her best friend first.

He probably was feeling down after finding out the bells were nothing more than that. That his father wasn't behind it and that he'd have to return home with his head hung low in false hope. Eden knew how hopeful the Routledge had been about the familiar tolling, and wanted to make sure he was okay before figuring out her own shit.

"Yeah," Eden nods, stepping past her friends and off the boat. She outstretches a hand, which Sarah takes and helps the blonde off the boat. Turning back to her friends, she says, "I'll find you guys later?"

Kiara nods, commenting, "I'll probably be on lockdown, so..."

"We'll update if John B. has anything new." Sarah concludes before walking down the dock towards the Chateau. Eden sends a final wave to her friends before following, the rest of the Pogues returning back to the marsh to ride off towards Kiara or Pope's place. 

Shoes brushing through the overgrown grass, the two girls back their way over to the house. As they grow closer, Eden spots her best friend sprawled out on the porch couch, clearly asleep. However, she fails to spot his father with him. 

It was silly for any of the Pogues to even think about the possibility of Big John being alive. 

Sarah is quick to sit next to the boy's sleeping figure on the porch, gently stroking his skin. Eden gives the blonde a moment and moves inside the house, taking in the disaster that it was—no one had been within the shack to clean it since the Pogues got stuck, as if it wasn't a mess before they left. 

Beer bottles and cans were discarded everywhere.  Leaves had blown in from outside. Dirt and dust had collected on the windowsills. It's muggy and humid in the house, and Eden flicks the light switch up only to find out the electricity wasn't working—bills hadn't been paid, given there was no one to pay them. Candles were set up around the house, wicks curled over to signal from having been used all night.

Eden sighs—she'd get on top of getting the electricity back at some point. 

She moves past the mess of items and enters the Routledge's room, a small smile creeping on her face; everything was still the same. She picks up some of the clothes discarded and throws them into the dirty clothes pile—John B. didn't believe in the purpose of a laundry basket—before moving towards the dresser, opening her dresser.

Without much thought she grabs a shirt—it's cream with green flowers added for design—and a pair of jean shorts, quickly peeling Singh's silky pajamas off her skin. It felt good to be in her own clothes again.

She doesn't bother with any mascara and instead leaves the room, taking the pajamas and throwing them in the in-need-to-be-taken-out trash can. 

"It's okay—hi, hi." Eden can hear Sarah's gentle words from then open window, and quickly moves to the living room to see the blonde girl, an awake John B. nuzzled into her neck. "You're home. You're safe."  She pauses. "We made it back." 

Eden frowns at the expression on John B.'s face. She makes her way back to the porch, solemnly watching the couple.

"I missed you. Oh my God—"

"I'm here. I know." Sarah pulled back, "I'm sorry we left. I'm so sorry." 

"It was either we ditched your ass, or we got shot." Eden makes her appearance known, leaning against the wall. "So, you know, we went with ditching your ass." 

John B. looks up at his best friend, slightly smiling as he sees her. "Hey." 

"Hi," the Bexley hums back. She reciprocates the smile. 

"They just dropped us off," Sarah continued spewing, "I didn't even know if you'd be here. We literally couldn't hear anything  on the phone." 

The Routledge's brows furrow. "What? You couldn't hear anything?" 

"Nothing that wasn't cracking. All of your sentences were spliced up." Eden admits, watching as the boys face fell even further. "All we got was that we needed to come back to Kildare."

"So you don't know."

Sarah's eyes glazed over in confusion. "Know what?"

John B. stays silent, and Eden firmly urges, "Know what, John B?"

"He's alive." the Routledge looks between the two girls at his admission. 

Eden's brows furrow—no. Big John couldn't be alive. 

"My dad's alive." John B. continued, words falling out as if he couldn't believe what he was saying himself. Sarah opened her mouth to try and say something, but her words felt stuck in her throat. "And....and he's here right now. Look—"

John B. looks in the window beside him, expecting to see his father's sleeping figure on the pull couch—pillows were propped up and a blanket was unmade, giving the impression that someone had been sleeping there—but his face immediately falls in confusion as he doesn't spot his dad. 

Eden shook her head solemnly—she'd just been in the house, she would have seen Big John if he was sleeping or inhabiting the home. "I was just in the house, John B. No one's in there."

"No, he was just right there." the Routledge mutters in disbelief, eyes squeezing shut for a brief moment. He pushes himself off the couch, eyes widening. "Eden, Sarah, I—I swear to God, he was. He was here." 

Sarah wearily looked behind her at Eden, who shrugged her shoulders. She didn't want to tell John B. he was crazy, but, who said he hadn't dreamed the whole thing? John B. seemed a little out of it, and maybe Big John sleeping on his couch had been a sick hallucination of kinds. 

"Dad!" John B. yells.

Sarah trailed of, "John B...."

"No, no, Sarah. Hey, look, I..." the Routledge fumbled over his words. The more he spoke, the crazier he sounded. "I promise he's here. Give me one second." He quickly got on his feet and walked towards the front yard, "Dad!"

Eden frowns and looked at the boy, "Hey, John—"

"No, no, Eden you of all people have to believe me." John B. knows how he sounds—his dad was supposed to be dead and now he was telling Sarah and Eden he was magically alive and in the Chateau with nothing to back him up—but he needs someone to believe him. He was tired of sounding like he was fucking crazy. "I promise you."

"I—" the Routledge brushes past the shorter girl to run outside, and she mumbles a defeated. "Okay." 

"Dad! Hey, dad!" 

Sarah and Eden both sat quietly as the brunette paced back and forth in front of his headstone, calling out for his father. He looked like a lunatic, and started acting more like one when he returned to the porch and forced the two girls to search every corner of the house for him—as if Big John would be hiding in a cabinet. 

Eden didn't try to argue and tried to please the Routledge by searching in every room, already knowing that the man wouldn't be found. If Big John was here, he would have greeted Eden already and she probably would have screamed. 

John B. watched the two girls with hopeful eyes as they searched, face falling further and further when they returned to him with shaking heads and solemn gazes.

By the time the Routledge finally gave up on searching the house, the sun had truly risen, providing the house with natural light. The trio reentered the porch, John B. still rambling, "Okay, I-I swear he was here." He repeats his words as if he was trying to tell himself that everything that happened had been real. "He was here." 

Sarah tried again, "John B—"

"No, I swear he was here, alright—"

"Look, John, we haven't gotten a really good sleep in a while, and we've been eating coconuts for a month straight. Maybe you just, you know......dreamed it. Hallucinated it." Eden admits, trying her best to sound as calm and collected as she can. 

John B. whips around, agitated. "I'm not fucking crazy, Eden!"

"I don't know, John B., we've been going in circles around the house and outside for about an hour now and he's not here." the Bexley tries to reason. She doesn't want to piss the Routledge off, but does he know how erratic he sounds? "I'm not trying to sound like a bitch, but what proof do you have that he was?"

"Look, that's the boat right there, okay?" John B. jabs a finger at a white boat docked in the marsh next to the HMS Pogue. "And he was sleeping inside right there, okay—"

Eden sighs, "Okay, the boat, yeah—"

"Look, uh, you believe me, right, Sarah? Right?"

Sarah tries to be considerate of the boy. "I mean..."

"Hell, I wouldn't believe him, either!"

At the booming voice, Eden whips around, eyes widening and lips in utter shock and slight amazement. Treading through the yard was a tall and bearded man, a small backpack thrown over his shoulder. Glasses covered his eyes, and he was much more scraggly than the last time the Bexley had seen him, but she could never mistake his figure. 

 Big John Routledge was here, in the flesh. Back from the dead. 

"What the fuck." Eden manages, looking at John B. She heard every word that he'd ever spoken about his father being alive, but never did she expect this moment to be true. The Routledge meets her gaze with an 'I told you so' smile. 

Sarah lets out a shaky breath, and she starts to sputter in utter shock.

"Hello, Sarah." Big John greets warmly, voice casual—as if anything was casual about a dead man of a year walking right in front of them. 

"Wh—what? Oh my God..." Sarah wheezes the words out, hand clasping her chest as she tried to take a proper breath.

Big John chuckled at the girl's genuine reaction and opened his arms wide, "Come here, Sarah." The blonde wraps her arms around the bigger man, Big John patting her back as he embraces her. "Or should I say, Mrs. Routledge? Welcome to the family, Sarah. I heard the good news."

Eden scoffs amusedly. Big John makes his appearance from the grave and the first thing he does is talk about John B. and Sarah's marriage.

"Where did you go?" John B.'s brows are knit together as he complains, though his words go unheard to his father.

Sarah words fall out in a mix of a giggle and a sob, "I'm sorry....I can't..."

"Eden Bexley, why are you acting all distant over there?" Big John pulls away from Sarah, looking at the Bexley with a fond expression. Eden, while a pain in his ass half the time, was his daughter to an extent. 

 Eden manages a real smile. "Trying to figure out if I'm dreaming or not?" 

"Don't be a stranger and give your old man a hug." Big John chuckles, and the Bexley can't help but walk into the older man's arms for an embrace. 

Eden was always pointlessly bickering with the older man, and she's absolutely sure he hated the sarcasm the always left her lips, and sure, sometimes Big John was a bit annoying when it came to how much time he spent with his nose in a map, but he'd been more of an influence than Eden felt her own parents had been at times. She didn't feel like a burden in the Chateau.  She did miss him. 

"You're still hanging around John B, huh?" At first Big John never understood what Isla Bexley's daughter was ever doing hanging around his son, but after getting to know the girl, he realized she fit in more with John B. than she ever would with her mother in Figure Eight. She was a Pogue at heart.

Eden pulls away with a jab of, "Someone had to take care of your son when you disappeared."  

  For a few weeks after Big John's disappearance, John B. was so distraught that he stopped caring—he let the monthly bills pile up, didn't bother driving the Twinkie out to the store at all. He didn't want to eat or get dressed.  Eden had to steal money from her parents every month to pay all the bills and buy food so the boy didn't entirely rot away. 

"Touche." Big John remarks.

Once again, John B. asks, "Where the hell did you go?"

"Come on, son! It's a day of celebration." Big John rounded all three teens back in for a group hug, "Bring it on in, boy."

John B. scoffed sarcastically, "Surprise."

The four embrace, Big John holding all three teens like they all belonged to him. 

"I can't....I can't believe it." Sarah breathed out. 

Eden couldn't either. 

After hearing Big John's story—which involved Singh, treasure, and more lies and mystery—Eden decided it was finally time to go home. 

As much as she wanted too, she couldn't put off seeing her father forever. It was only so long before Pope and Kiara were confirmed to be found on the news and she was forced to come clean, or until someone recognized her on the streets. She'd rather have her father see her face to face than have him hear she was alive via the Kildare County news. 

So, the Bexley made the tread through the Cut to Figure Eight, Converse scuffing against the ground as she tried to bundle up her thoughts. There was so much she wanted to say to her dad, yet nothing that felt right—she needed to apologize, she needed to explain herself, she needed to just be there.

Sun beating against her already peeling skin, the walk to her home felt like it dragged on and on, but soon enough, the white structure came into view. Her dad's car was parked in the driveway, Isla's nowhere to be found. The curtains in her room were drawn shut, as to signal her disappearance—Eden always had her curtains open.

Eden walked up the steps and stood in front of her front door, shifting on her heels.

Her stomach was a mess of knots and nerves at the prospect of seeing her dad again. What would she say? That she was sorry? That she'd been a bad daughter since the start? Admit to everything? There was too much he deserved to know, and even more that she couldn't even explain. 

And what if Isla was there? What if somehow, Tom still found a way to let her back in and she was waited with freshly painted nails and a fake smile. What did Eden do then? 

How was she even supposed to show herself? Her house key had gotten lost somewhere along the events of last month, which left her no option but to knock—there was no chance of sneaking in. Did she stand quiet and let her dad speak first? Did she start apologizing before he could even find the words? 

Eden doesn't let herself get lost in her thoughts anymore. She presses the doorbell before she rethink anything.

Other than the echo of the bell, it's silent for a few moments. Eden see's her dad's car, but maybe he wasn't home.

"Vic, I told you, I can't do any more speeches for these kids. Not if we both know they're not coming—"

Eden hears her father's voice to the door, a small clicking following signaling he was unlocking it. Here goes nothing.

The door swings open, and Tom Bexley's figure is revealed, phone to his ear as he calls who Eden can only assume to be Shoupe. He glances at his daughter, looks away as if he didn't process who it was, and double takes her.

He can barely choke out the rest of his sentence. ".....home."

"Hey, dad." Eden doesn't know what to say, so she sticks to a weak greeting. She tries to search her father's face for emotion.

Tom pulls the phone away from his ear, body seemingly stiff. His expression is a mix of relief, anger, confusion—the girl can't tell what he's going to do. Suddenly, he drops his phone on to the floor and before Eden can process it, she's being yanked into the house and pulled into a tight embrace.

The door slam shuts but Eden doesn't flinch at the sound. She lets her father grasp on to her, feeling his arms firmly hold her close against his chest.

Eden would never say she was close with either of her parents, but her father had always been her favorite, who she trusted more.

He didn't hate her friends—maybe it was because he used to be a Pogue, or maybe it was because had seen how happy John B. Routledge, JJ Maybank, and Pope Heyward made his daughter rather than how Isla saw the Routledge's run down shack and Luke Maybank's face when she looked at the blonde.

He also didn't hate who she was as a person the way Isla always had. He kept the very first bracelets she made him. He'd driven her through the Cut when she was younger. If Isla wasn't present to yell at her, he never really cared if she went out with her friends, as long as she told him she was staying the night—which never happened.

Tom always liked that she never ended up the way Isla did.

He always regretted siding with his wife in the most pointless of arguments. He regrets believing her about Ward, trusting her suspicious behavior, dismissing Eden's truths as her needing more medication or therapy.

Tom feels all of those regrets leaving him as he holds his daughter.

Eden doesn't think she's ever been hugged like this by her father, let alone Isla—sure, it had been similar when she was breaking down after John B. was announced dead, but it wasn't the same—but it felt good. 

"Oh my God. Oh my—Eden," Tom fumbles over his words, unsure of what to say. He thought his wife and daughter were gone for good at this point, yet, she'd just showed up on his door step. "I thought....I thought you and your mom were gone. I thought you were gone—"

"I'm sorry, Dad." the Bexley whispers. Getting kidnapped and trapped on Poguelandia wasn't her fault, but she feels like something is along the way. "I didn't know—"

"I know, Angel. It was your mom, I know." Tom knew that Isla was behind Eden's sudden disappearance—they disappeared at the same time, as did the Cameron family. Different things of Eden's had been taken out of her room, as well as most of Isla's clothes. A chunk of their money, too. "You don't have to be sorry. It's okay now."

Eden shakes her head against her father's chest, "No, no, nothing about what happened is okay—I made you think I was dead. I'm so fucking sorry."

"We can talk about it all later, okay? I'm gonna listen to you now." Tom brushes her hair away from her face, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Just let me hold you."

Eden's okay with that. 

The rest of the day is somewhat of a blur to her.

There's no contact from any of her friends, and she assumes that Kiara and Pope were both going to stay at their homes for a moment to explain themselves, and for the sake of not disappearing on their parents again; Kiara's probably on house arrest, anyway. Sarah had also left the Chateau when Eden did to return to her house—not for family, but for a fresh pair of clothes and a shower. John B. is more than likely with his father, and Eden wouldn't interrupt that. She doesn't even want to know where JJ's ended up. 

The Bexley doesn't explain much to her father, though Tom doesn't entirely press. Of course he wanted to hear what led to his daughter being missing, but he can tell that it's a lot. He reassures the girl that Isla hadn't tried to contact him since the day she went missing, that she wasn't back, but it doesn't do much to help.

Eden simply paces around her house, taking everything back in. She didn't have to sleep on the sand anymore. She didn't have to eat coconuts. She could change her clothes. She could shower whenever she wanted to—to which she did, throwing away Singh's pajamas first chance she had and washing away the feeling of Rafe Cameron and the Barbados mansion.

Her fridge was stocked full and the girl eats a random bunch of snacks for her dinner, savoring the tastes. Tom didn't stop her—he let the girl do whatever she wanted, just glad to have his daughter back in the house. He'd talk to her about it all later.

It was nighttime when there was a slight disturbance.

Eden had been sitting cross legged on her bed, fingers manipulating pieces of thread together to create a bracelet—yes, she'd gotten her kit back. She'd concluded she'd make one for Cleo, given the girl was the newest edition to the Pogues; she would have done it during the month on Poguelandia had she been able too.

Her television quietly played Titanic, the movie copy still displayed on her dresser just as it had been when she left. Rose and Jack's voices faded in and out of her head as worked, her mouth quietly mouthing some of the lines—despite everything that had happened, she could still recall most of the three hour film.

Everything felt so normal. Eden couldn't remember the last time she felt such peace—she;s almost waiting for something to come and happened, something to force her to start running again because it feels like running is all Eden knows anymore.

"Eden! One of your friends is here! "

The Bexley hears her fathers voice, and she picks up the remote, pausing the movie. Her brows slightly furrow at his words, given she didn't expect to see any of her friends for the next day or so. Yet, she still gets up from her bed and trails down to the front door—of course she was going to see who it was.

Tom is standing to the side of the front door and Eden stands in front of it to see JJ Maybank on her doorstep, his dirt bike parked in her driveway.

"J?" the Bexley steps outside to meet him, shutting the door behind her to give her and the Maybank privacy. She can't recall the last time she saw the blonde boy at her doorstep like this—like Isla would allow it. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"'M fine." JJ huffs, something clearly on his mind.

Eden wants to ask him what happened, but she knows JJ. So, instead, she alters her question slightly. "Why are you here?"

"Uh, my place is getting evicted in, like, three weeks." JJ shoves his hands in his pockets, looking down at his boots.

Eden knows that JJ's house wasn't good. It was just a hellhole of memories of his fathers taunting and fists; of bruised knuckles, banging on doors, and silent tears. But that was his home—not in the same way the Chateau was, but nevertheless, his home. It still had to sting knowing it was going to be taken away.

"That's really shitty, JJ—"

"Don't feel sorry, it's a piece of shit anyway." the Maybank purses his lips. "Anyways, I don't have electricity or food, or anything really. John B. won't answer and I fucked up with Kie...." He stops himself from spewing, wanting to get his point over with. "I guess I'm trying to ask—"

Eden knows what he's asking—he needs a place to stay. And who would she be to tell him no?

"You can stay, J."

For some reason, the Maybank almost seems surprised that the Bexley responded so quickly. Of course she did—she was one of his best friends, tied with John B. It would be silly if she said 'No, JJ. Go away!'. Yet, somewhere inside, JJ felt like he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve to spend the night in the Bexley estate, to sleep in Eden's room because she was a Kook and he was just JJ.

"Is your...is your dad okay with it?" JJ asks. Tom had answered the door, and while he hadn't seemed mad to see Luke Maybank's kid on his doorstep, he didn't seem entirely thrilled, either. "I mean, you just got back. I can crash at Heyward's, or just at home—"

"JJ, you're staying." Eden cuts him off, grabbing his hand and opening the door. JJ doesn't open his mouth again to try and say anything.

Tom is still waiting in the doorway, and he makes eye contact with his daughter. The two almost speak a conversation through their gazes.

He's staying.

I know.

JJ clears his throat, "Uh, Mr. Bexley—"

"Call me Tom, kid." Tom had never cared for the formalities, for Kook titles. He offers out a hand and he can see Eden slightly smile as JJ outstretches his own to give a firm and proper shake. "You're Luke's kid, yeah?"

JJ always hated having that reputation. He stiffly nods, "Uh, yes, sir."

Tom gives a curt nod and walks off. Eden starts walking towards her room, JJ following behind her, almost cautious of the intricate designs and clean floors. He'd been in Eden's driveway multiple times, but he'd only been in her house once—to which Isla had almost had a heart attack when she found out.

"I don't think I've been here since your mom grounded you over it." JJ stands in the girls room, looking around; plain white walls, a hanging bed, a balcony—holy shit, a balcony? It was much too tidy and pristine to belong to Eden, yet there were little details on the walls and in the design choices that showed the girls personality over the Kooky aesthetic.

"Fun times." Eden drawls, takes a seat on her bed again. She begins to work on Cleo's bracelet again, speaking without looking at the blonde. "Have you heard the news yet?"

"That Big John has risen?" JJ asks, to which the Bexley nods in confirmation. "Kie came over and told me." 

Eden smiled at the thought of JJ finding out. Big John cared more than Luke ever had about the blonde; taught him how to properly drive, gave him his first beer, kept a not as firm but much more supportive roof over his head—treated him like a son instead of a burden.

Big John had been a father to all of the Pogues, really. He was always nose deep into maps and treasure hunts, but he always lent his home to them.

Eden nods, "Did Kie say anything else?"

The Maybank shakes his head, "No, she didn't."

Eden can tell that the Carrera is a sore subject—the way the Maybank's fists clenched when Eden said her name, the way he said he 'fucked up' with her at the door—and she doesn't press. Instead, she gets off her bed and opens one of her dresser drawers, "Uh, if you want to shower, you can. I have a ton of John B.'s t-shirts that he doesn't even know I've taken."

She pulls out one and throws it towards the blonde. JJ catches the shirt, feeling warmer on the inside. "Hey, Ed'?"

Eden turns around. "Yeah?"

"Thanks." His expression of gratitude goes further than just tonight. He felt like Eden had always been there for him when she shouldn't care to do so.

"Always, J." 

mara's misc!

lo flipping l guys

you don't understand how much it icks me to write big john. GOD this man gets on my nerves "bring it on home john b" I WANT TO END IT ALL. having to write eden actually liking him could be what kills me guys. 

anywho!!! 

catherine o'hara is my spirit animal i JUST wanna say that. she is hilarious and i love her as moira in schitts creek (just saw beetlejuice 2 and she also ate as delia there). the way she just plays the same person in different fonts each movie makes me so happy. someone let me meet this woman. 

the entire last section of this chapter was for kensie and you already know why. oh the things i do for this bitch. 

ALSO ALSO i got this app where you can make fake tweets, so give me some things you want eden/the pogues to make fake tweets about and i'll post some in the next chapter bc they're so silly to make

hope you enjoyed <3 see you back with chapter 70!!