#age appropriate sex ed

[overheardschoolbus]

11yo: FINALLY the bus, the day is OVER

Next 11yo: Bus Driver, it was aWfUL

Another 11yo: It was… *gulp* health day

Horrified 11yo: We learned about puberty

Poor poor 11yo: *traumatized expression*

Wide-eyed 11yo: I saw a picture of a vAgInA

Huddle of 11yo girls: *run past, shading eyes*

Even wider-eyed 11yo: Bus Driver, is it true?? do women have three holes???

[dress-a-difference]

Youth Empowerment: Key Components of Sex Education

Sex education is a vital aspect of our overall well-being, providing individuals with knowledge and understanding to make informed decisions about their sexual health and relationships. As you have already read in my previous article (https://dressadifference.wordpress.com/2023/11/05/empowering-tomorrow-importance-of-sex-education-its-global-landscape/) why Sex Education is so important, here are…

[jaeger-babe]

Love that my eldest brother tried to help me out by fostering a love of anime and nerd shit in me but that hoe introduced me to some animes that I was definitely to young to see

[inkskinned]

it is totally okay to be hurt and tired and fed up with the american schooling system but i need you to understand that we need to be better about loudly and routinely defending public education.

yes, many teachers suck, many schools utterly suck. i also got bullied and was absolutely not given the right support for my needs. i am not defending public education because it was kind to me. i am defending it because it needs to exist.

right-wing republicans do not want an educated population. they want kids to be homeschooled or in private school. there is a huge religious undertone to this.

the most common argument is that despite high costs, the "result" is not "good" enough. they point to failing schools as proof that public education is just never going to work out. there will be arguments made here that you actually agree with: that teachers can be bullies, that we taught online for 2 years and still charged the same amount of tuition, that we have no recourse for students to actually have agency or a voice, and that schools are now unsafe for kids due to risk of illness and gun violence.

these are all placing the blame in a fraudulent way, one intended to get your parents to homeschool you. the less kids in a school, the less federally-awarded funding for that school, the less any school succeeds. they will not mention the fact it is their legislation that takes away important funding opportunities, that teachers are living at or below the poverty line, that buildings are not kept up to code, that administration is overpaid and forces specific curriculums, that corporations like (my personal enemy) Pearson Education control certain classroom goals because teachers can't afford other options. they pretend to be ignorant of the gun violence and say "oh just get a gun" - but these are the same people who will be sending their child to a private school with a bulletproof backpack. they don't care if your kid dies, though. they "don't believe" in covid, but they did get their kid vaccinated, because of course they did.

it is a closed loop. conservative parents hear the fearmongering and remove children from the system. frequently these parents are also deeply religious. the kids are raised without access to other media & learn to parrot their parents. you have now created a new generation of conservatives. additionally, one of the parents/caregivers must stay home and homeschool the children, usually for free. i will give you 1 guess which parent tends to stay home to homeschool the children. these parents are encouraged to have many, many children. those children are most likely not getting access to safe sex ed.

we might laugh at fox news suggesting teachers are forcing children to use kitty litter but: first of all, there is kitty litter in the classroom. it's part of an emergency kit in case children are locked in due to a shooter. so that's fucking dystopian, and the fact they've completely reimagined the scenario to somehow make the teachers look bad when it's instead a fucking huge symbol of our failure as a country to protect our children.... it feels a little intentional.

secondly: don't just dismiss the situation. because, yeah, obviously, no teacher is encouraging kids to be a catboy. but the actual undertone that fox news is trying to sew is an outright distrust of teachers and of public education. they rely on the dehumanization of trans people as a common touchstone to hide the fact they're pushing two agendas at once. (which is ironic. because the thing they accuse teachers of. is pushing. an agenda.)

whenever someone tells you they want you to read less, you should be suspicious of that. when someone tries to separate you and your education, you should be suspicious of that. i don't even like incel rhetoric nor would i want my kids exposed to it - but i would not take away my child's (age-appropriate) access to the internet. i would just provide more educational materials, not less. the difference here is that i believe we can resolve ignorance with knowledge; whereas conservatives believe that ignorance is bliss.

they misappropriate funding and demonize teachers. they pull the same trick each time - the same thing we are seeing with anti-trans rhetoric. they do not want you to have access to safe sex ed, so they act horrified, claim sex ed teaches you how to thrust deep, claim that we have no idea what "age-appropriate" means. since the mid-nineties, the united states has spent at least 2 billion dollars on abstinence-only education, even though to quote the above link: "a preponderance of studies has found no effect of abstinence education at reducing adolescent pregnancy". conservatives want you to think less of any person struggling with addiction so they can continue their racist "war on drugs", so they spend up to $750 million dollars a year on the DARE program which has absolutely no effect. acting like teachers "must" be "grooming" children is just the same thing - so they can demand that funding either goes to their causes or the funding doesn't "exist" ("i'm not paying for our kids to learn that thing!")

and they want you to feel uncaring about this. they are aware that you will hate some parts of your school experience. pretty much everyone does. they want to lean into the parts that you hate so that you don't put up a fight about it when they take it away for not being "good enough."

i know i maybe sound like a conspiracy theorist. but truly. truly. it is beneficial for conservatives to reduce your faith in the american public schooling system.

one of the explicitly stated campaign promises of the conservative party: to axe the Department of Education in 2024.

i know we are all tired and burnt out and there is so much else wrong with their entire platform. but maybe just - pay attention to this one.

[aroallo-corvid]

Aroallo is not an "adult" sexuality

[plain text: Aroallo is not an "adult" sexuality]

I am aromantic and allosexual. I am also (as of writing this) a minor. TLDR at the end because I rambled on a bit.

There's a view in society that sexuality and sex are topics that are entirely irrelevant to children and should not be discussed around/with children because it is inappropriate/predatory. And to an extent, there is a point to that, and any discussions of sex and sexuality should be age-appropriate (e.g. an eleven year old would not receive the same sex ed as a sixteen year old because there is a vast difference in experience)

However, thinking like this leads to teenagers not being given proper sex education because they are "too young", which is wildly ignorant of the fact that a decent proportion of teenagers older than sixteen are sexually active. I live in the UK where the age of consent is 16, and I know plenty of people who were in relationships aged 14/15 were having sex. (Whether they weer mature enough to is another matter, but it's important to acknowledge that it does happen so there is no point ignoring this).

This rhetoric also leads to the belief that teens (and younger kids) shouldn't be coming out as gay/lesbian/bisexual/asexual/aromantic/etc. because they are too young to be thinking about sexuality and sexual attractiveness, which just.... isn't true. Many young people have crushes, and as the majority of people are allosexual, this does often involve sexual attraction as people mature through puberty.

Within the queer community, people have said that it is perfectly fine and normal and common for teenagers to come out as gay, lesbian, bisexual, asexual - Because if a teen can be straight, they can also be queer. These arguments are all set out beautifully and the points well made.

Yet.

Some people exclude aroallo people from that. They say that teens can be asexual, because they can know they aren't experience sexual attraction like their peers, and teens can be aromantic as well as asexual because they can realise they also aren't experiencing romantic attraction. But when a teenager says they are on the aromantic spectrum but still allosexual, often the same people who defend teens' rights to be (for example) bisexual turn around and say "you're too young for that".

Why?

Honestly, it comes down to sex-negative views that sex is inherently impure/disgusting, and of course children are the perfect example of purity and innocence, so they shouldn't be thinking about such "dirty" topics.

Of course a teenager can be asexual, that distances them from icky gross sex & means they would likely to be only engaging in chaste, pure, wonderful romance. Of course a teenager can be aroace, that makes them little cinnamon infantile babies, safe from all sexuality. (/sarcasm) (Also completely ignores the existence of sex-favourable aces and aroaces)

It comes off as very hypocritical though, because a teenager identifying as bisexual but not aromantic (so biromantic, but that distinction isn't typically made) is seen as acceptable, when they are expressing the same sexual desires as a teenager who is bisexual and aromantic. The only difference is that the first teenagers' sexuality is seen to be "balanced out" by the presence of nice wholesome romance.

tldr: if teenagers can identify as bisexual/gay/lesbian/pansexual/etc. whilst being alloromantic, it is hypocritical to say a teenager cannot identify as one of the above sexualities whilst being aromantic, because romance is not inherently more pure than sex and sex is not inherently impure.

[etherealspacejelly]

Some of my opinions, in no particular order

golf courses should be abolished. mini golf can stay. actual golf? no. golf courses take up so much water to maintain their grass, grass which, btw, is a monoculture and bad for wildlife. the area that golf courses take up could be used for affordable housing, or natural areas left to grow with wild native plants that are better for the insect populations. but nooo, we gotta use all this land so that stuck up rich people can play the most boring game ever invented. bullshit.

the police should be abolished. i would settle for defunding but really they just need to go.

children are people, treat them as such. kids have thoughts and feelings that are just as real and valid as yours.

on a similar vein, you are allowed to not want children, but that doesn't give you a free pass to hate kids or be mean to kids. they didnt ask to be here, be kind.

there should be a maximum wage. after a certain point, there is no amount of labour you could possibly do to Earn that much money. your workers earned that money, and you are stealing it from them.

there is a difference between millionaires and billionaires. when i say eat the rich im not talking about actors and musicians, im talking about people who are directly responsible for poverty, hunger, suffering, and homelessness around the world. people who hoard obscene amounts of wealth that No One could ever hope to spend in an entire lifetime and simply watch while minimum wage workers struggle to put food on the table and the elderly freeze in their homes.

sex ed should start in primary school, at an age-appropriate level. if kids are old enough to ask questions about sex, they are old enough to learn about it in a safe environment. they should be taught correct anatomical names for body parts (penis, vulva, vagina, etc.).

there should be more research into autism and ADHD in adults, this shit doesn't just go away when you grow up.

diagnostic criteria for disabilities, disorders, and mental health conditions should be written by people who have or have had these conditions. how is someone supposed to know if they have autism, for example, if the symptoms are written from the perspective of someone who has never experienced it?? doesn't make any fucking sense.

hostile architecture should be illegal. unhoused people deserve a place to sleep. or better yet, give them houses. there are literal studies done that prove that housing people saves the government money in the long run, so why aren't we doing that? make it make sense

edit: updated to add more clarity to the golf thing. didn't explain that one well enough and left some people confused

[proshippers-against-censorship]

I’ve spent a few years in online fandoms now (pre Voltron era) and have found that the following applies to (not all) antis:

They’re largely between 13-19 or early 20 at most

adults older than that make up the smallest amount

Antis’ friend groups are almost entirely online

people with social connections offline are or people with fullfilling jobs are usually not antis (there are of course exceptions)

Almost all antis have intergenerational friendships. This isn’t unusual irl when it affects people who go to school (like HS and college) or neighbors or irl friends, but antis’ friend groups consist of total strangers. Very few only want followers of the same age range

Because of this, minors are easily more radicalized on the internet. Currently I would say Twitter and Threads contribute the most to it because these platforms are rife with hate, disinformation and have a general lack of online safety features

Therefore they may also develop moral scrupulosity ocd, a form of OCD where people are afraid of being “immoral”, therefore they seek for moral purity and find their beliefs echoed in purity culture

which is also why they tend to flock to people who portray themselves as “safe” or who call out “morally corrupt” people (proshippers). Those who call out moral corruption can possibly be no “bad” people

anti rhetoric is strongly based on anti kink/anti sex and “kink critical” radical feminist and conservative rhetoric

the anti phenomena is also largely American. Despite antis being people of many different ethnicities, most anti rhetoric reflects America’s political views on sex/gender, feminism, sex ed, sex in general and the increasing amount of anti science beliefs and anti intellectualism

therefore, antis can only be countered by:

Stopping the spread of disinformation

Instead internet safety should be taught again

social media should employ better moderation (which I get is not possible unless we switch to dedicated fandom forums or something )

make people aware of red flags to look out for (for example online grooming, cults, radicalization)

share facts about queer history and explain why radical feminism is bad for everyone (including cis women)

parents should definitely monitor their kids more often. I don’t mean 24/7 surveillance, I mean teach them where and how to find information safely and age appropriately

bring back places where kids can be kids offline and online (not asking this of common people but as a suggestion for politicians we vote for)

report, block, mute and make people aware of fandom etiquette

Ate and left no crumbs. I may link this at the top of my page.

[animasola86]

NSFW Hogwarts in the 1890s Headcanons

Convenient Plot Devices (to make my smut more believable)

(aka Nurse Blainey is a very supportive and progressive witch doctor!)

Every girl over the age of 15 (sometimes earlier) is required to take contraceptive potions as per request by Nurse Blainey who had to deal with horny teenagers and their lack of mind for consequences for too long.

Boys don't have to take them, but can if they are so inclined.

Very reluctantly, the recipe for that potion is taught by Professor Sharp in the Sixth-years' Potions class.

There are potions for every ailment (usually provided by Nurse Blainey), including aftermath soreness or the "potion after" if a witch/wizard forgot to take their contraceptive potion.

There were indeed condoms*, but not every wizard carried them, so the potions and/or a quick disappearing spell had to be used to prevent pregnancies.

*Condoms were usually distributed in barbershops in the late 19th/early 20th century (according to Wikipedia) so I imagine Madam Snelling selling them under the counter in her hair salon.

There is no sex-ed class in Hogwarts, but again, Nurse Blainey is the first to hand out informative literature* or reading recommendations.

The Restricted Section of the library has an entire room filled with erotic fiction, anatomical books and various guides to help out the eager witch or wizard.

*Informative literature included tips and guides for the uterus-bearing population on how to deal with bleeding. As early as 1890, probably even earlier, there was the "invention" of pad-belts/sanitary belts in Victorian England, those were re-usable and I can imagine even easier to use for witches because instead of cleaning them the old-fashioned way, they could just clean them with a swish of their wand. (Read more on the history of menstrual pads here if you're interested.)

Ignatia Wildsmith has seen more horny teenagers making out in front of her Floo flames than people actually using that way of travel.

Ghosts see a lot of things and mostly they don't care about it, unless they are Richard Jackdaw* who likes to stalk those horny teenagers more often than is appropriate.

*Shameless plug: I wrote a smut piece about our favorite horny ghost called The Horny Ghost (how creative).

"Silencio" is the most used spell in the dormitories, boys' and girls' alike.

Hufflepuffs are the only ones who don't have curtains around their beds! But I bet they can think of other devices to get some privacy. Maybe they're masters of the Disillusionment charm!

On that note: only Ravenclaws have their own in-house bathrooms - with actual bathtubs! Slytherins have to leave their common room, and Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs have to walk quite a while to find the nearest bathroom. [Correction: there are bathrooms, one with stalls, one with stalls and bathtubs, in the Gryffindor common room, but only on the girls' side! (Thanks to @mianeryh for pointing that out!)]

But this is a post about HCs, not actual fact/pointing out lazy game design, so I'd like to imagine that all houses have at least one communal bath/bathroom area very close to their dormitories.

*By the way: In the Slytherin, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff common rooms, the girls' dormitories are upstairs, so they have the stairs turning into slides whenever a boy tries to access them, whereas in the Ravenclaw common room, the girls have to go down the stairs and are "only" protected by two suits of armor guarding the way, which in turn makes it easier to sneak past!

Popular make-out places are: the boat-house, the underground harbor, the loft above the Great Hall, the kitchens (poor house-elves), the Prefects' bathroom, the Restricted Section of the library, any dark empty hallway, any empty classroom/storage room, the Undercroft and the Room of Requirement (if they know of them), ...

*Honestly: anywhere is possible in the large castle that is Hogwarts!

Let's talk fashion: we've all seen the HL undergarments of girls and boys, right? Here is an amazing guide by @tamayula-hl about period accurate clothing and their uses in smut writing, very informative!

So based on that I also believe that horny teenagers got tired of all those buttons and layers very quickly and learned spells to make the undressing easier, and/or used "Evanesco" to get rid of clothes entirely (and conjured them back afterwards) - though tbh, I, as a smut writer, don't care too much about how they get naked. They're wizards/witches, they have their ways!

My most used clothing device apart from simple spells: the convenient flap at the front of boys' breeches.

FANFICTION MASTERLIST - KINKTOBER - AO3

[venerawrites]

Omg I love your writing and am so so here for all the Gaara love! ♥️

Could you pretty please do Gaara finding out his S/O is pregnant?

author's note: thank you so much, you are so sweet! I love this request, it is so cute! Thank you so much for the idea! <3

Gaara never wanted to be a dad.

Not because he didn't love you or because he didn't want to share his life with you...

But rather because he did not believe he was fit to be a parent himself.

Firstly, he was a pretty busy man and knew he would not be able to spend a lot of time with his child. Being the son of the late Kazekage himself, he knew how rare family dinners and walks to the park were.

Secondly, he has never been good with children. Growing up without any friends, he was unsure how to handle anyone below the age of 10.

Like, how are you even supposed to speak to them? Like babies? Like adults? Do they have the capacity to even fully understand words?

Gaara was fully happy with the idea of spending your life together just the two of you, and based on the many conversations you had before, you were too.

But accidents DO happen...

and you DID get pregnant, despite your joint effort to prevent it.

When you saw the two lines on the test, your eyes widened in shock. The idea of becoming a mother hasn't even crossed your mind and here you were, holding the proof that a new life was starting to bloom inside of you.

You didn't know how to break the news to Gaara. So you decided that you are just going to wait for a few days till an appropriate time to share it with him presents itself.

The young Kazekage, however, knew you like the back of his hand and immediately knew something was wrong once he noticed your withdrawn behaviour.

So one morning, before you could even start your day properly, he rolled over on your shared bed, so he was hovering over you and cornered you between his arms.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong or do I have to keep you hostage in this bed?", he joked, yet there was a note of concern in his voice.

You stared at him long and hard, not cracking even a smile before abruptly saying:

"I am pregnant."

His smile fell and his whole body stiffened. His eyes became double their normal size and his mouth fell open.

When? How?... What?

Both of you always made sure to use protection, how was that possible?

He will start stuttering questions, crashing next to you with his brows furrowed in confusion. You are going to have to give him some basic sex ed talk about how contraception does not always work 100%.

"I want this child", you told him, eyes focused on your fidgeting hands in your lap, "I don't know about you but-"

Your words were interrupted by the soft feeling of his fingers interlacing with yours. When you looked up at him, he had a soft smile on his face.

"Hey", he gently said, "I want this child too! You are carrying the fruit of our love inside of you."

And at this moment you knew a new, better chapter was about to begin for you two.

I feel like Gaara would try to appear calm and collected about the news, just so he doesn't freak YOU out, but internally he would be scared and nervous.

He would borrow books from Suna's library about how to deal with pregnancies and new parenthood, going as far as even taking some written notes of the tips he finds interesting.

The more time passes, the more overprotective he would become.

Like I don't think he would stop you from doing lower-class missions from the very beginning (especially knowing how stubborn can you be about stuff like that), but after the first 3 months, he is definitely banning you from leaving the village.

He would send Kankuro to check on you regularly, making him use lame excuses that he is just "popping in to take something that Gaara has forgotten in the house".

First 5-6 months are pretty smooth sailing, tbh... Other than the fact that he is more worried than usual about your well-being, I don't think there is going to be much change to your relationship.

But THE LAST 3 MONTHS... OH MY!

This is when your mood swings, cravings, and hormones just go through the roof.

You are constantly unhappy with him - if he is with you, why is he suffocating you? If he is away, why is he working so much?

lots of fights about minor stuff :(

Gaara definitely has the patience of a saint, so poor man would just calmly take your insults and 5 seconds later - your kisses.

He is questioning if he wants a second child, tho

Despite being a busy Kage, he would still make time to pamper you after work by giving you foot massages, preparing your favourite snacks, or going for late-night walks, just because you wanted "some damn fresh air".

Overall, pretty caring and gentle with you during your pregnancy, but not TOO overbearing. He respects your personal freedom and at the end of the day, he thinks you know better than him what you are doing.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hi, I hope this isn't too heavy for an anon ask, but I truly don't know where else to ask this

when i saw your thread about child sex ed, I just wondered... did i accidentally assault my brother???

so for some context I was raped/CSA'd sometime before the age of 11 and it's fucked up my perception of what's considered appropriate. when we were little, my brother who is very close in age to me and I used to have a game of "going to the doctor" where we would go in the bathroom and just look at each other's bodies (in a nonsexual way, normal behavior for curious kids). the part that gets me is that I remember trying to get him to stick his fingers in my holes -- to his credit he always refused and I never physically forced him to do anything, but in retrospect the thought just makes me ill

and before you ask, yes, our sex ed as children was very spotty and pretty much ended at how babies are made

hi anon,

this is a heavy one, and I'm sorry you've been feeling gross about this.

for what it's worth, I don't think anything you're describing is inappropriate or particularly unusual. as you said, it's very normal for young children to examine each other's bodies. this is a very developmentally normal curiosity to have, especially between children who have noticed that their body parts look different. that can include exploring bodily cavities, and there's nothing inherently harmful or abusive about that. some years ago Lena Dunham got BLASTED as a child abuser for talking about looking at her baby sibling's vulva in her memoir, and that made me incredibly mad. Lena Dunham wasn't molesting her sibling; she was a curious child and people using completely ordinary childhood activities to call her a pedophile just because she's annoying fucking sucks.

listen. caveat: not all instances of children taking an interest in each other's bodies is harmless. molestation can very much occur between siblings, and cause lasting trauma. okay? that's a real thing. your fears are not baseless.

but it sounds like you and your brother were both engaging in consensual play and you didn't force the issue when he didn't want to digitally penetrate you. unless you feel like dredging the issue up with your brother, or he wants to bring it up and/or is exhibiting any signs of lasting sexual trauma, I think you are probably safe to assume that you didn't do any lasting harm.

it's understandable to have the ick about it now as an adult, with greater context. and it's very normal to be cautious and worried that you may have hurt your brother unintentionally. but please try not to be too hard on yourself about this. you were a kid doing things kids do. your intentions were not malicious, and being a kid unknowingly doing something that *might* hurt someone is not the same as being an abuser.

[millenniumfae]

Age-appropriate sex ed for kindergartners introduces topics like consent, identifying who is in your family and the correct names for body parts.

"When we're talking about consent with kindergartners, that means getting permission before you touch someone else; asking if it's OK if you borrow somebody's toy or pencil or game, so that kids start to learn about personal boundaries and consent in really age- and developmentally appropriate ways," says Gelperin, who was part of a team that released the first national sex education standards in 2012.

[corroded-hellfire]

You Belong With Me - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: modern!au. Eddie is dating Chrissy, but she’s making him miserable. What would it take for him to notice that he’d be better off with you? Based on the Taylor Swift song.

Note: Oh, so many thoughts about this one. I’ve never been a big fan of song fics, but this song just screamed this dynamic at me and wouldn’t let me rest until I wrote it. And it physically hurt me to write Chrissy as the “bad guy” because I just adore her and Grace so much. But for the fic, it had to be done. Lastly, I literally stayed up all night to write this so I apologize if my sleeplessness caused any more errors than usual.

Warnings: modern!au, language, sex jokes, mention of gun, I think that’s it?

Words: 8.7k

“But that’s not what I meant. No, no, I- Babe, it was a joke. It wasn’t about you! You know I don’t like basketball game- Yes, I’m coming. Of course. I’m sorry, okay? Like I said, it was a joke- Okay. Yeah, okay. I’ll see you there. Okay. Bye.”

Eddie tosses his phone down on your bed and rubs his hands over his face. You sit up near your pillows, wincing through the whole phone call. Eddie getting frustrated like this was becoming far too common for your liking.

“You okay, Eds?” He isn’t, but you’re not sure if he’ll want to talk about it or not.

“Fine,” he says. He has to know you don’t believe him, but he also knows you won’t push him. He climbs on your bed, leaning against your footboard.

“I made a stupid joke,” he says. “I said something about watching a basketball game being like watching a goldfish swim around in its bowl. You’re just looking back and forth at the same thing the whole time!”

It’s not the appropriate time, but you can’t help but laugh. “It’s true, though.”

“Thank you!” he says. “It was a dumb joke but somehow Chrissy took that as me saying I hated going to see her cheer. Is it my favorite thing to do? No. But I do it because she’s my girlfriend.”

You nod your head at him, not sure what you could say. There are a million things you want to say. Break up with her. She’s not good enough for you. I’ve been in love with you for years, you doofus. But none of that would help him. It’d only stress him out even more, which was the last thing you wanted to do.

“I swear, the only saving grace at those God-awful games is that you’re there with me. If I didn’t have you to make snide comments with, I don’t think I’d be able to stomach it,” he says.

It should make you feel better, you think. But in reality, it just makes you want to smack him on the back of the head and say, “then what does that tell you, dumbass? Spending time with me is better!”

“We’re going to the game tonight, I’m assuming,” you say. It’s a Tuesday so there wasn’t a Hellfire meeting, which was the only acceptable reason, according to Chrissy, that Eddie could miss a game. Even those, she wasn’t thrilled he skipped games for.

“Don’t have much of a choice,” Eddie mumbles, picking at his rings. He looks up and meets your eyes. “I mean, you do, though. You don’t have to come with me.”

And make him do this alone? You couldn’t. Even if you had to sit there and pretend not to see Eddie watching Chrissy, or just pretend to not see Chrissy in general. It was never a choice for you if there was an opportunity to spend it with Eddie. You’d stand blindly by his side, supporting him however you could.

“You can’t get rid of me that easy,” you tell him.

He smiles and tosses one of your stuffed bears at you. “Like I’d ever want to get rid of you.”

Looking into his eyes suddenly makes you feel like you could cry, so you jump off your bed and head over to your Bluetooth speaker.

“What do you say? Some Ozzy?” you ask.

Eddie groans and drops his head forward. “God, I wish I could stay and listen. I’ve got two deals before the game tonight, though. I’ve gotta head out.”

You pout and press play on the machine anyway. Ozzy Osborne was not what was queued up next, however. The acoustics of a Taylor Swift song start to play into the space of your bedroom.

Eddie groans again, louder this time. You stop the music and start to skip through the shuffled playlist.

“I am so tired of pop songs. It seems like that’s all that’s playing in my car lately and it’s driving me up the wall. I can listen to it sometimes, but God forbid we listen to any of my music as I’m driving around with her.”

Your pout grows as you keep your back to Eddie. You never know what to say to him when he complains about Chrissy. He wanted to date her so badly that you didn’t think anything could hurt you worse. But seeing the way she treats him? That beat all.

“I thought you didn’t even like Taylor Swift,” Eddie says. It just shows how much Chrissy must be making him listen to pop if he recognized the song by the opening chords.

“I like some of her songs,” you say, turning to face him. “Sometimes it feels like she took a page out of my diary and wrote a song about it. I love Metallica and Black Sabbath dearly, but that is something they just don’t do.”

Eddie stands up off your bed and grabs his leather jacket. He smirks at you as he slips it on. “So, what you’re saying is, Taylor Swift understands you?”

You roll your eyes at him and plop back down on your bed. “Yes, Eddie. That’s exactly what I’m saying. The pretty, millionaire singer, that’s dated all of the hottest guys in Hollywood totally gets me.”

“You sing,” Eddie says with a shrug. “In fact, I wish you did it more. How many times have I begged you to come sing with the band again?”

“It was once, I was drunk, and I’m still grateful that I don’t remember all of it,” you say.

“You were good. I’m not just saying that as your best friend, I’m saying it as a musician. You never sing around me. Why are you embarrassed to?”

The teddy bear in your lap is easier to look at than Eddie. “M’not embarrassed.”

“Oh yeah? Then why not in front of me at least? You’ve seen me puking my guts out and have taken care of me after a hangover, but you’re too shy to sing in front of me?”

“To be fair,” you say, eyes now finding Eddie’s, “you have also seen me puke and taken care of me when I had a hangover.”

“Yet I still sing in front of you.” When you don’t say anything, Eddie starts to get annoyed. “You know, I told Dustin that I wished you’d sing more, and he seemed confused because apparently you sing all the time around him.”

“That’s different!”

“How?” Now he sounds like he’s starting to get mad and it’s the last thing you want. Chrissy had already worked him up and you didn’t want to make it worse.

“You know, Dustin is always singing songs from movies and stuff. You’ve seen him and I singing Suddenly, Seymour from Little Shop of Horrors together. See? I’m not embarrassed in front of you.”

“Yeah, but you were also putting on that squeaky voice the woman has in the movie.” He sighs and takes a few steps towards your bed. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just like it when you sing.”

You look up at him and give him a small smile. “I like when you sing, too.”

“We’ll go to a karaoke club soon then,” he says with a smirk, and you’re not sure if he’s teasing or not. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll come by in a few hours to pick you up?”

“Mhmm.” He heads out of your room, but you call out for him before he can fully leave. “Eddie! Can you hit play for me? I think I got the right song up now.”

Eddie clicks the button on your Bluetooth speaker and Crazy Train starts playing, Ozzy’s maniacal laugh haunting your bedroom.

“Much better,” Eddie says over his shoulder as he walks out of your room.

After dinner with your parents, you head back up to your room. Your mom and dad assume it’s to finish your homework, but you’d finished that a little after Eddie left. Instead, you pull up your metal-only playlist and let it run on shuffle. The synthetic voice comes over your Bluetooth speaker.

“I am iron man.”

This song instantly has you reaching to turn the volume up. Black Sabbath’s iconic sound rings through your room and you jump on top of your bed. You head-bang to the opening notes, feeling more pumped up by the second. You spin around, scooping up your hairbrush from your nightstand to use as a makeshift microphone.

“Has he lost his mind? Can he see or is he blind? Can he walk at all? Or if he moves, will he fall?”

You fall to your knees on the mattress, openly air-guitaring as you sing along.

“Is he alive or dead? Has he thoughts within his head? We'll just pass him there, why should we even care?”

There’s a new voice joining in with yours this time. You slowly turn around and move the hair out of the way that’s covering your face from all your whipping it about. Eddie leans against your doorframe, arms crossed against his chest, and the biggest smile on his face that you think you’ve ever seen. You hadn’t realized how long it’s been since you’ve seen him smile like that. Months? At least.

“Enjoy the show?” you ask as you hop down from your bed.

“Very much,” he says. “Don’t stop on my account.”

You give him a playful glare as you walk over to your mirror. You use your hairbrush/pseudo microphone to get your hair out of your face and looking somewhat presentable.

“How’d the deals go?” you ask as you grab your sneakers.

“Fine. Two usuals so it was quick and painless,” he tells you as you lace up your converse.

Unlike this basketball game will be, you think to yourself.

“Save any for us to use tomorrow?”

“Well, duh. But we’ll have to go somewhere to smoke it. Wayne’s got an old army buddy coming over for dinner,” Eddie says.

“The park?” You take a look at yourself in the mirror and adjust your Iron Maiden shirt. Steve once told you that you should wear school colors to a game. You told him to find you a band t-shirt that had the God-awful orange and green of the basketball uniforms and you would.

“Park sounds good to me,” Eddie says. He pulls on your arm to yank you away from the mirror. “You look perfect, let’s go.”

Your face flushes as you follow Eddie out of your room. Both of you wave to your parents in the living room before heading outside. Climbing into Eddie’s van is second nature at this point, and you make yourself comfortable by putting your sneakered feet up on the dashboard.

Eddie starts the car and Metallica begins blaring through the air. You drum on your knees as Eddie makes the short drive to Hawkins High. Hopefully, Lucas will play tonight. Since he’s been getting better, the coach has been putting him in more. It was great to see his confidence grow.

The parking lot in front of the school is almost as crowded as it would be if school was in session. Eddie slips the van into one of the few empty spots and you both get out. The murmuring from the gym could be heard out in the parking lot. Was this an important game? Was our team doing well this year? You had no idea. You came to most, if not all, of the games, but you hardly paid attention to any of it.

The sounds of the crowd talking loudly to one another, the squeaking of sneakers on the shiny floor, and the cacophony of instruments tuning up in the band section of the bleachers smack you in the face as Eddie opens the gym door for you. You nod to him in thanks before slipping inside. He follows behind you and you wave to Nancy who is on the sidelines with other students from the school paper.

Robin waves and gives you a big smile when you walk past the school band. You blow her a kiss, and she pretends to catch it. In the middle of the bleachers there’s a small gap where you and Eddie could fit. When you get closer to it, you can see it’s empty because Max, Dustin, and Mike have their feet there; their attempt at saving the seat for you guys.

“Finally,” Dustin says. “Thought someone was gonna sit on my feet any second.”

“You better move them quick then,” Eddie says. He moves to sit on the boy’s feet and all three of them bring their legs back to themselves.

From where you’re sitting, the cheerleaders are straight ahead. They’re in your direct line of vision and you get the feeling that your neck is going to be sore tomorrow because you’ll probably spend most of the game looking and talking to Max behind you.

Eddie raises his hand to wave, and you leave your eyes in your lap. You don’t need to see her pretty smile or her bright eyes. Her hair that was never out of place. You reach up to smooth over your own hair self-consciously.

“Stop,” Max says. She’s leaned in towards you so she can whisper in your ear. “Your hair is fine. You look great. And you know he’s going to spend more time talking to you than paying attention to her during the game anyway.”

With a sigh, you turn your head to give her a small smile. She reaches forward and squeezes your shoulder. Your girls knew how you felt about Eddie. With Nancy and Max, they said they had known before you even told them. The pair of them thought it was incredibly obvious to anyone who was paying attention, while Robin was shocked when you told her.

A whistle blows, signaling the start of the game. Your eyes scan the white jerseys moving around the court and on the sidelines. Number eight is standing on the side, hands on his hips and swaying from side to side. From the back, Lucas looks tense and nervous. Maybe this was a big game.

The cheerleaders began with their cheers, the sounds of pompoms crashing against each other catching on the air. Eddie watched the first few cheers before he turned to you.

“I’m already over it,” he says.

“Let me know when Lucas gets out on the court and I’ll care,” you answer him.

“Hey,” Dustin says, popping his head in between yours and Eddie’s. “You hear about the contest down at the bar?”

“What contest?” Eddie asks.

“What bar?” you ask.

Mike breaks his eyes away from the court to join the conversation. “The karaoke bar over by the grocery store.”

“They’re having like, a talent show - karaoke version - or something. I think you win $500,” Dustin says.

“When is it?” Eddie asks. He loved singing in front of people, and if he could win some money in the process, why not?

“Friday, you losers,” Max says, looking at Dustin and Mike. “You seriously didn’t notice that it’s the same night as Hellfire? The end of your campaign?”

“Shit,” Dustin says.

“Damn, that would’ve been fun,” Eddie says. “That’s a pretty big place, too. Nice sized audience.”

“Get up during halftime and sing to this crowd then,” you joke to Eddie.

“Oh God, don’t put that in his head. He’ll do it,” Mike says.

“These people wouldn’t know good music if I blared it in their ears,” Eddie says as he looks around the bleachers. “Ah, look. Harrington with another date. Who’s that one?”

Both you and Max crane your necks to try and see who Steve is with. He’s a few rows higher than you and closer to the band.

“Heidi?” Max asks.

“I don’t think so. Steve said he wouldn’t go on another date with her. Plus, Heidi’s hair is lighter than that,” you say.

Steve catches you and Max looking at him and mimes putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger. Max rolls her eyes while you let out a laugh.

“Poor Steve,” you say. “All these girls just aren’t right for him.”

“I keep telling him that he’s gotta figure out what he wants but he never listens to me,” Dustin says.

“Does he listen to anyone?” Max asks.

“Robin, maybe,” you add.

“Has he ever asked you on a date?” Eddie asks you. You furrow your brow in confusion. Why was he asking this? Just curiosity?

“No,” you say. “We’re friends.”

Eddie shrugs. “Sometimes that’s the best thing to be before becoming something more.”

You take a deep breath and feel your stomach clenching.

“I’ve got to use the bathroom,” you say. You stand up and Max stands behind you.

“I’ll come with you,” she says.

The two of you walk out of the gymnasium and into the quiet school hallway. Max stays quiet until she confirms there aren’t any other girls in the bathroom.

“You’re entering that contest,” Max says.

“What?”

“Find a song that expresses what you’re feeling and let it out on stage. You’re good. Good enough to win. And you know the guys won’t see because they’ll be playing DND.”

“I don’t know, Max.” You lean against the sinks and Max leans next to you.

“Oh, come on. You’re telling me a song about wanting someone who you can’t have comes on the radio while you’re driving, and you don’t angry belt it out?” Max asks.

“Yeah, alone in my car,” you say.

“And it’s cathartic, right?”

“I guess.” You shrug and avoid Max’s eyes because you know what’s coming next.

“If that feels good, imagine getting all those emotions and feelings out on stage,” Max says. “I already signed you up.”

You sigh and rub your hands over your face. It makes sense and you hate it. Music has always been your way of expressing yourself. Maybe doing this would help you release some of your anger and sadness.

“Fine,” you finally concede.

“Yes!” Max says. “We’ll bring Nancy and Robin and it’ll be great.”

“No one tells the guys about this, though,” you say. “I don’t need any of the headache that would come with that.”

“My lips are sealed,” Max says.

 After the game, in which Lucas made the game winning shot, friends and family mingled with the players and cheerleaders. You would’ve gone with the others to talk to Lucas if Eddie hadn’t all but steered you in the direction of Chrissy. His hand was on the small of your back and you’d let him lead you anywhere like that. Even here.

“Eddie!” Chrissy calls. She runs forward and wraps her arms around his neck. He wraps his around her small waist and lifts her up, her short skirt riding up her ass. You divert your eyes from the pair of them, scanning the rest of the crowd for your friends.

“You were great,” Eddie is telling her. “And you looked so hot.”

Your fists clench and your fingernails are digging hard enough into your palms to draw blood.

“Like you even watched me,” Chrissy says with a laugh. “I saw you talking the whole time.”

Eddie frowns and his brows pinch together. “I did watch you.”

“Okay,” she says as she gives him a pat on the arm. It’s the condescending tone that’s dripping from her voice that makes you speak up.

“He pointed out to us in the third period when you did the new cheer. The one you came up with when you became cheer captain,” you say. You bite back from adding, “So, see? He pays attention to you even though you’re horrible to him and he deserves far better than you could ever be.”

Chrissy turns, looking at you as if she just noticed you were there. “Oh, hi.”

“Hi,” you respond, trying to keep the venom in your voice to a minimum.

She turns back to Eddie and wraps her arms around his neck. “I’m hungry. Can we go get pizza?”

Eddie glances at you out of the corner of his eye before looking back at her. “Uh, I hadn’t planned on that. I was going to give y/n a ride home.”

Chrissy pouts and it doesn’t suit her. Her lip goes too far out and her eyes scrunch in a way that looks more painful than sad.

“But I hardly got to see you today. Can’t she get a ride with someone else?” Chrissy asks.

“Don’t talk about her as if she’s not here,” Eddie says, pulling back from her a little. Her pout turns to a glare as she looks at him.

“It’s fine,” you say, taking a few steps back. You didn’t want to make this worse for Eddie and you certainly didn’t want to be stuck in the van with the two of them.

“But…” Eddie trails off.

“It’s okay,” you say, though your heart is telling you the opposite. “Go get pizza.”

He frowns deeper but nods his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here.” You give him a small smile before disappearing into the crowd.

Hopefully, Steve didn’t drive his date here and she had her own way home. You look through the mass of bodies for the familiar head of brown hair but come up empty. You don’t see a baseball cap with curls spilling out of it or a redhead either.

With a sigh, you walk to the doors. You head out into the dark evening, the stars and moon shining bright down on Hawkins this night. Most of the parking lot has cleared out and you don’t see a car you recognize other than the big brown van that used to bring you so much comfort.

Home is only six miles away, so you decide to walk. It’s a chilly night and you wrap your arms around yourself, hands rubbing up and down your arms that are bare in your t-shirt. You’ve made the walk before and you estimate it will take you about two hours. Thankful that you wore your most comfortable sneakers, you head up the hill and off school property.

The streets are quiet and dark, which unsettles you. Weird things happen in Hawkins all the time and you’d wager this is how a lot of them started. After walking two miles, a total of three cars have passed you by. You were almost more afraid when you saw the cars coming towards you rather than walking alone in the darkness.

You hear a car coming from behind and you take a step closer to the tree line and out of the road since the driver probably can’t see you.

“Y/n?”

You look back and Robin is hanging out the passenger window of Steve’s car.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Walking home,” you say as if it was a normal occurrence. Maybe if you act as if this wasn’t that big of a deal, they’d believe it.

“In the dark? Alone? At night? Are you insane?” Robin says. The driver door opens and Steve steps out. He walks over to you and looks at you in concern.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine.”

“Where’s Eddie?”

“He, um. Well, Chrissy wanted pizza. So, I said I’d get another ride, but I couldn’t find one. And home isn’t too far.” You shrug, not meeting his eyes.

Steve rests his hands on his hips and sighs. His typical mom stance.

“Come on. I’ll drive you home. You’re going to have to pile in though.” He doesn’t give you a chance to argue, wrapping an arm around you and guiding you to the car. “Jesus, you’re freezing. You know, you could’ve called me. Or Robin or Max or Dustin or Mike.”

Steve opens the back door, and the three younger faces look back at you. Max scoots over until she’s sitting on Dustin’s lap.

“I don’t know how I feel about this,” Dustin says. He raises his arms in the air so he isn’t touching Max at all.

You slide in and Steve closes the door behind you. Dustin refuses to look at anyone, cheeks flushing. You can’t help the small smile on your face as you tug Max over to sit on your lap instead. She settles easily enough and rests her head against the window.

The car smells like fried food and you find out why when Mike holds a bag out in front of you.

“Burger? Fries?” he offers. “Or…” he rummages around in bags between his feet. “Onion rings.”

“Toss one,” you tell him. He smiles as you open your mouth and tries to throw the fried onion inside. Surprisingly, he makes it, which makes the four of you in the back cheer.

Robin gets dropped off first, her living the closest to school. She grabs her band hat and trumpet out of the trunk and waves before she disappears inside her house. Dustin takes the opportunity to jump into the front seat. Technically, Max should’ve been the next one dropped off, but Steve kept driving straight past the trailer park. Max didn’t say a word, knowing why Steve was avoiding the neighborhood for now.

“Why didn’t Nancy drive you home?” you ask Mike as Steve pulls into the Wheeler driveway.

“Because she’s a priss and has to stay late to work on the stupid paper,” he says.

“Hey!” Both you and Steve yell at the same time as he scrambles out of the car.

“You try living with her,” he says before waving his hand in a goodbye.

Your house is next, and you sag in relief when it comes into view. You hadn’t been expecting to see it for at least another hour at the rate you were walking before.

“Thanks for the ride, Steve,” you say. “I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime that idiot leaves you high and dry just call me,” Steve says, looking at you in the rear-view mirror. You smile to yourself, thinking this must be what it’s like to have a big brother. You now understand why the kids all gravitated towards him.

“Thanks,” you repeat as you get out of the car. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” you say to Max and Dustin. They wave as you head up to your door.

 School the next day is weird. People are excited because the basketball team won; so, the halls were buzzing with that energy. But most people were tired as well, having stayed up later than usual to come to the game. It all gives you a nice cover for how you’re feeling. You feel sluggish and irritated. Though you can’t put your finger on the exact reason why, you knew the people it could be blamed on.

Eddie leans up against the locker next to yours between second and third period as you’re exchanging your books out.

“You didn’t text me last night,” he says.

“What?” you ask, not looking at him.

“When you got home. You didn’t text me to let me know you got home okay.”

“You didn’t ask me to,” you point out.

He frowns. “I didn’t think I had to. It’s just kind of something we do.”

“Well, sorry, I guess.” You close your locker and turn to him. “Was there something else?”

“Are you mad at me?” he asks. His big puppy dog eyes are shining and it’s truly your damn kryptonite.

You take a deep breath. “No.” You don’t know if that’s really true or not, though.

“You’re sure?” Eddie raises his eyebrows at you.

“I’m sure,” you lie.

“Are we still on for the park later?” he asks, hope glimmering in his eyes.

“Of course,” you say, eager to see him relax.

“Perfect. I’ve got everything in my backpack already to go.” The weed, he means. You can’t think of a better day to get high than today.  

 School simultaneously drags on and ends too quickly. Chrissy has cheer practice, so you don’t have to deal with her while you walk to Eddie’s van. Once inside, he cranks Sweet Child O’ Mine because he knows it’s one of your favorites. When you don’t hum along or even tap your foot along to the beat, he knows something is up.

He parks the van across the street from the park and grabs his backpack.

“Ready?” he asks.

You nod in affirmation and hop out. The two of you walk down the street to the crosswalk. Normally you’d just jay-walk to cross the street, but this intersection was notorious for pedestrian injuries. When you get your signal that it’s okay to cross, Eddie trips and you hear the ripping of material. You look down and see he’s ripped his own jeans by stepping on the hem of them while walking. The tear that was at his knee has now tripled in size and he could easily stick his whole leg through it. You giggle to yourself, and Eddie breathes a sigh of relief at the sound.

The two of you find your usual bench at the park and claim it. It’s hidden by a copse of trees so it’s easier to hide your illicit activities, but still allows you a good view of the park.

Eddie pulls out the two joints he’d rolled and lights one before handing it to you. Though you were used to the sickeningly bitter odor, it didn’t mean you liked it. You wrinkle your nose before raising the bud to your lips. You inhale, letting the burn curl down your throat and into your lungs. You were pretty good at not coughing by now. The first few times you’d ended up in total tears because of the intense hacking.

Eddie takes a hit of his own joint and rests his head against the back of the bench, blowing smoke straight up towards the sky. He closes his eyes and you take the time to admire him. He’d forgone the denim vest today and just settled on his leather jacket over his hellfire shirt. Hints of stubble were starting to appear on his chin and his lips were a little chapped. His long, dark eyelashes kiss his cheeks as his eyes move under his closed lids. He’s so beautiful it physically aches you.

He opens his eyes and turns his head to smile at you. It’s a real Eddie smile and it warms your heart. It’s so rare these days but it’s so bright it could rival the moon at night.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks.

“The moon,” you say.

Eddie chuckles and takes another hit. “Oh yeah?” He releases the smoke. “What about it?”

“It’s so bright. But you only notice the brightness at night.” You came up with it off the top of your head, but it sounded good to you. You raise your joint to your mouth for another puff.

“Like some people I guess,” Eddie says. He doesn’t sound like he’s finished talking so you wait. “Sometimes you don’t see how amazing some people are until everything else around you dims, but they don’t. They’re still there bright and shining.”

It could be that he’s having a profound thought about his life, or the pot is kicking in, so you can’t be sure.

“I want to go to the moon,” you say. Eddie laughs and you can tell both of you are feeling the effects now.

His laugh is infectious and causes you to start laughing as well. You curl in on yourself, abdominal muscles starting to cramp, and you slide to the side to lay across Eddie’s lap.

“Eds?” you ask, eyes staring up at the clouds above.

“Mm?”

“I miss you.”

He frowns down at you and pokes your forehead with his ringed index finger.

“I’m right here, silly head.”

“I know,” you say.

“I like when we talk,” Eddie says. His head is moving all around, taking in all the sights in the park around you. There are a few squirrels scampering up the tree closest to you. Birds sing in the distance and the laughter of kids comes from the playground a few hundred feet away.

“I like it too,” you say. “It’s so easy to talk to you.”

“Always has been. Since we met.”

“You’re my favorite person,” you tell him.

He grins and drops his head down to look at you. “More than Timothée Chalamet?”

“Mhmm,” you hum in confirmation.

“Wow,” Eddie says with a laugh. “That’s saying something.”

The two of you decide to lay in the grass as you let the pot work through your system. Eddie won’t be able to drive for a while anyway, so you take advantage of the nice day.

“I had a weird dream last night,” Eddie says.

“Yeah? Tell me.”

“I was playing at The Hideout. But when I looked down, I was playing the wrong guitar. It was a nice guitar. It was gold and smooth and sounded beautiful. But it wasn’t my guitar. I put the gold guitar down and tried to find mine. I started freaking out because I thought I lost it. I looked everywhere and couldn’t find it.”

“Did you find it?” you ask.

“I did. But some guy was playing it and it made me so mad.”

“What guy?” You let your heavy eyes droop closed.

“M’not sure. He didn’t look familiar. Could’ve been anyone, I guess. But he was playing my guitar and I wanted it back. But he said I was too late. And it made me really really sad.”

You frown and reach over to take Eddie’s hand in yours. “It’s okay, Eddie. No one is going to take your guitar away. Why would it want to leave you?”

 The high lasted a few hours and by the time Eddie got you home for dinner, the munchie effect was still going strong. You devoured the lasagna your mom put down in front of you. The bloodshot look had faded from your eyes, so you were just hoping your parents thought you were extra hungry today for some reason.

 You should’ve gone to sleep hours ago. It would’ve been easy; you always slept better on days when you got high with Eddie. But you still hadn’t picked a song to sing at the karaoke competition. Your head was in the middle of your bed, and you rested your legs up against the wall over your headboard. You scroll and scroll through playlists, trying to find a song that expresses what you’ve been feeling.

The sound of brakes squeaking makes you move your legs down and sit up on your bed. Your phone tells you that it’s 3:17am. You walk over to your window and see Eddie walking around the side of your house. You frown at him, and he notices you up in your window. You point towards the back door and Eddie nods.

Eddie would sometimes come by in the middle of the night, but he’d usually text first. You creep down the stairs as quietly as you can, avoiding any creaks. Your cat picks his head up from where he’s sleeping on the top of the couch to see what you’re up to. He decides he doesn’t care though and adjusts himself into a new comfortable position to fall back asleep.

Luckily, your dad had fixed it so the back door didn’t stick anymore when you tried to open it. It glides open silently and Eddie steps inside.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” you whisper to him.

He nods but he won’t meet your eyes. You frown and take his hand in yours. As you walk back past your cat, he picks his head up again and deems Eddie worthy of his affection. Eddie scratches his head two times before following you up the stairs.

You pull him into your room and quietly close the door behind you.

“What’s up?” you ask him.

He shrugs and sits on the edge of your bed. “Didn’t want to be alone.”

The sheets are messy, and you crawl on top of them, making yourself comfortable against the mountain of pillows against your headboard. Eddie glances back before leaning backwards so his head ends up in your lap. You start to play with his hair. You haven’t done this in a while, and it warms your heart. His eyes drift closed, and you think he’s fallen asleep until he quietly kicks his boots off so he can pull his legs up on the bed as well.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask.

He opens his eyes and stares at your ceiling. “I feel confused.”

“About what?”

“That’s the thing. Everything.”

You frown and trace your pinky finger along one of his curls. “Elaborate?”

“I don’t know how,” he says. “Feel like everything is upside down. I feel like I want things to go back to normal, but I don’t know what’s changed to make me think things aren’t normal. Am I making sense?”

“Sort of,” you say.

His eyes begin to water, and it breaks your heart. You’d give anything to be able to fix what’s wrong, but he doesn’t seem to know.

“Where do I belong?” he asks.

“Here,” you say without hesitation. “Here with me and your uncle and Dustin and all your friends. Here with your favorite guitar and your band and your loud as all hell van.”

That makes him chuckle and your heart feels ten pounds lighter. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again.

“Did you miss something on that list? Or someone?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you say carefully. “Did I?”

He licks over his lips before answering. “I don’t believe you did. I think that was a pretty complete list. Doesn’t need anyone else.”

“No?” you ask.

He opens his eyes and shakes his head. “She reamed me out for an hour before because I hadn’t bought prom tickets yet.”

“I didn’t even know they were on sale,” you say. You’re trying to keep your voice calm for him, but it’s proving difficult.

“Neither did I,” he says. “But she goes on and on about how she already bought her dress and the, and I’m quoting here, ‘the prettiest high heels in the world.’”

“Shouldn’t she have waited until, you know…at least until you asked?”

“Right?” he huffs out. He runs his hands over his face, and you start to play with the small curls along his forehead. “I’ve got to end it.”

“I think so,” you say in a small voice.

He tilts his head up so he can look at you. “Friday, yeah? Tomorrow I’ve got a test, so I don’t want the stress added to that. I need to pass this class.”

“Biology again?” you ask. “I thought you were doing better.”

“I am, but I won’t if I bomb this test.”

“You should probably get some sleep then.” You almost said “go home and get some sleep” but that’s not what you really want. He nods and goes to sit up, but you catch his arm.

“Here?” he asks.

You shrug and slide yourself under the covers. “Why not? I don’t have cooties. I got the shot.”

He smiles and shrugs out of his leather jacket before sliding in the bed next to you. Your heart races as his head lays on the pillow next to yours, noses almost touching.

“Goodnight,” he whispers.

“Goodnight.”

 On Friday, you only get to see Eddie between second and third period at your locker. His plan is to have lunch with Chrissy outside and break up with her then. Your paths don’t cross after lunch, and he has Hellfire and you’re meeting with the girls to get ready for the karaoke contest right after school. Your stomach will be in knots until you find out how it went.

Nancy dusts your eyelids with silver eyeshadow as you sit on your bed. Max and Robin go through your closet, deciding what you should wear tonight.

“No, that might be see-through under the lights.”

“What about this?”

“It clashes with the silver eyeshadow.”

“Any texts from Eddie?” Nancy asks quietly as she cleans up the edges.

“No,” you breathe out with a sigh. “But he’s never on his phone during Hellfire. I think that would be blasphemous in there.”

Nancy hums her agreement.

“We’ve got one!” Robin announces.

You open your eyes to see Max holding a royal blue dress that accentuates your curves and feels silky smooth against your skin. You wrinkle your nose at them.

“It doesn’t go,” you say.

“With what?” Max asks.

“My song!”

“Oh, you’re right,” Robin says.

“Fine, fine,” Max says. She puts the dress back in the closet and starts to dig through your drawers.

“I hope there are no sex toys in here,” Robin says as she joins Max.

You roll your eyes as Nancy touches up your eyeliner.

“Jeans,” Nancy says as she works. “She should wear jeans and a t-shirt.”

“That’s what she wears every day,” Robin says.

“Exactly,” you and Nancy say at the same time.

“Okay, fine,” Robin acquiesces. “But what one?”

“Iron Maiden?” Max asks as she picks one out of the drawer. “There’s also Guns ‘n Roses, Black Sabbath, Metallica. Geez, any from this century?”

“Corroded Coffin,” you say. Max looks at you and grins.

“Where is it?” she asks.

“Top drawer.”

Robin and Max pick out the best jeans to go with your favorite tee. Nancy tells you to get dressed before she fixes your hair. She doesn’t do much, just spray a little product in it and tussle it up.

“Perfect,” she says.

 You pace back and forth backstage. You’re not exactly nervous. Not about the singing, anyway. About letting your feelings channel through you in this way. It was a vulnerability you’d never shared before. Even if the audience just thought you’d picked this song because you liked it, you and your friends knew the truth.

The girl on stage now is singing Madonna and you take deep breaths to settle yourself.

 “Hey.”

Nancy jumps at the voice in her ear. She turns her head to see Eddie sliding into the seat next to her. Her eyes widen comically, and Eddie raises an eyebrow at her.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here either, but do I look like a ghost or something?”

“What are you doing here?” Robin demands from the other side of Nancy. Someone in the crowd shushes her, but she doesn’t care. “You’re supposed to be at Hellfire.”

Eddie shrugs with a devious smile and Dustin plops down in the seat on the other side of him.

“His stupid campaign wiped us out in the first half hour,” Dustin says. “We remembered this was happening, so we figured we’d catch the last half.”

Max’s leg bounces nervously on Robin’s other side and Eddie notices the motion.

“What’s wrong, Red?” She raises her eyebrows and shakes her head at him. “Wait, where’s y/n?” he asks.

Robin leans in to whisper in Max’s ear. “Do we have time to warn her?”

“No,” Max whispers back. “She’s up next.”

“Maybe she won’t see with all the lights,” Nancy leans over to add.

Robin groans and drops her head in her hands.

The girl wraps up singing Papa Don’t Preach and the audience claps politely. The manager steps out on the stage and reads from a clipboard.

“Next up we have y/n y/l/n.”

Eddie’s jaw drops before a huge smile forms on his face. He was going to get to hear you sing again. Finally.

You step onstage and Eddie’s taken aback. He didn’t expect an elaborate outfit or anything of the sort but seeing you in a Corroded Coffin shirt took him by surprise.

The music begins and the notes tickle his brain. He knows this song. He knows that he knows it because of Chrissy, even if he can’t place it. Why would you choose this song?

You grip the mic tightly in your grip and lift it to your mouth.

“You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset. She's going off about something that you said, ‘cause she doesn't get your humor like I do.”

It’s Taylor Swift, Eddie recognizes. This confuses him even further. What was it you said about her music?

“I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night. I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like, and she'll never know your story like I do.”

You feel your confidence picking up as you keep going. Looking at the audience doesn’t seem like a good idea, so you keep your eyes vague as they move across the open space in front of you. It feels good to have a microphone in your hand.

“But she wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts. She's Cheer Captain, and I'm on the bleachers. Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you're looking for has been here the whole time.”

Eddie’s stunned to his seat. His jaw hangs open as he recalls what you said. It was like Taylor Swift took a page out of your diary and wrote a song about it. There was no mistaking what and who this song was about. Even for someone who knew how dense he could be at times.

“If you could see that I'm the one who understands you. Been here all along so, why can't you see? You belong with me. You belong with me.”

The grin that spreads across your face is freeing. You never knew being vulnerable could feel this good. You’re sharing your heart with the people in the audience and most of them have no idea.

“Walk in the streets with you in your worn-out jeans, I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be. Laughing on a park bench thinking to myself, ‘Hey, isn't this easy?’ And you've got a smile that can light up this whole town, I haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down. You say you're fine, I know you better than that. Hey, what you doing with a girl like that?”

All three of your friends in the audience are caught between watching you work the stage like you were born for it and looking over at Eddie to gauge his reaction. Nancy notices the way his hands are gripping the armrests and she doesn’t know what that means.

“She wears high heels, I wear sneakers. She's Cheer Captain, and I'm on the bleachers. Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you're looking for has been here the whole time. If you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along so, why can't you see? You belong with me.”

You catch a flash of red hair in the audience, and it widens your smile. So that’s where your friends are out there. You’ll have to get a good look at them when singing the next part.

“Standing by and waiting at your backdoor, all this time how could you not know, baby? You belong with me. You belong with me.”

There’s a small instrumental break and you take the opportunity to lower the mic and look at the row your friends are in. But your eyes catch a very familiar pair of brown ones and your veins ice over and your stomach bottoms out. Eddie’s staring at you with those eyes and they’re enough to make you melt on the spot without all the lights on you adding to the heat. You try not to let it break your stride on stage. Spinning on the sole of your shoe, you face the back of the stage to compose your face and take a deep breath. You continue. The show must go on.

“Oh, I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night. I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're 'bout to cry. And I know your favorite songs, and you tell me 'bout your dreams. Think I know where you belong, think I know it's with me.”

You realize it’s all out in the open now. The Band-Aid has been ripped off and you might as well finish the song off strong. It’s easy to find Eddie’s eyes in the audience, wide as they are, and you keep eye contact as you sing the next part.

“Can't you see that I'm the one who understands you? Been here all along so, why can't you see? You belong with me.”

Eddie isn’t fully sure he’s awake. This has to be a dream, right? He’d pinch himself if he were able to move a muscle. Your eyes boring into his and baring your soul to him. There’s pressure on the back of his eyes and a fist clenching around his heart. How long have you been hurting over this?

“Standing by and waiting at your backdoor all this time how could you not know, baby? You belong with me. You belong with me.”

Adrenaline is coursing through your body and you’re already worried about what’s going to happen when it wears off. You wish the song wouldn’t end so you don’t have to leave the stage and deal with whatever comes after.

“You belong with me. Have you ever thought just maybe, you belong with me? You belong with me.”

The cheers and applause are white noise to you. There’s only one other person in the room and he hasn’t moved a muscle; not even on his shocked face.

You give the crowd the best smile you can before exiting the stage. You drop the mic on a table and find the most isolated corner of the backstage that you can. Resting your head against the wall and taking big, deep breaths is all you can focus on.

Hands land gently on your shoulders, but you still jump. You spin around quickly and come face to face with the one person you no longer knew how to talk to. His big brown eyes are wide and glassy. He’s never resembled a baby cow more than he does in this moment. His mouth keeps opening and closing, as if he wants to speak but doesn’t know what to say. That makes two of you.

“I didn’t know,” he finally says.

You close your eyes and nod. “I know. I didn’t want you to.”

Eddie shakes his head. “That’s not, um. That’s not what I meant.” He squeezes his eyes closed and licks over his lips. “I didn’t know. But she did.”

Your brow pinches in confusion and you shake your head. “I don’t understand.” The last thing you thought would be happening right now is Eddie trying to explain something to you.

“When I broke up with Chrissy.” Eddie sees the wince on your face at her name and it breaks his heart. How had he never noticed before? “She knew I loved you. She said she knew from day one. That’s why I didn’t text you right after I did it. I needed to think. About how true it was.”

“And?” The word barely squeaks out of you. Every nerve in your body was on edge, awaiting his response.

“After that?” Eddie gestures to the stage. “How could I have any doubt?”

His hand cups the back of your head gently and brings your mouth against his. His other hand snakes around your waist and your arms automatically come up to encircle his neck. It’s a gentle kiss, but it gets across all the emotions floating between the two of you. Relief, joy, love, excitement, fear, to name a few.

Eddie’s lips dance across yours again and again. You pull him closer, and he gets the hint, his tongue coming out to glide across your bottom lip. You happily part your lips for him.

“Y/n y/l/n….y/n y/l/n…y/n y/l/n?”

Eddie finally realizes your name is being called and pulls back from your lips. You whine and go to chase them, but Eddie chuckles and points towards the stage.

“Babe, I think you won,” he says.

You grin, never taking your eyes off him. You cup his jaw and lean in to press a soft kiss against his lips.

“Oh, I know I did.”

[softberrybi]

A quick note...

Hello from your local AuDHD switch verse bisexual. I'm on this corner of the internet to have fun and spiral into whatever current hyperfixation has me by the throat.

Minors, please don't interact. My blog is for people 18+. I'm a big advocate for sex education and curiosity, and my particular Tumblr page just isn't the space for that. If you're looking for an age appropriate resource, I highly recommend checking out Scarleteen. It's a wonderful site dedicated to providing medically accurate and queer inclusive information about relationships, sex, identity, and so on.

My asks and messages are open. Wanna be friends??? Feel free to message me any timmmmme. If you’re looking to be flirty, please be respectful. Opening with nudes or demanding nudes or sexting is just not the move, okay? I've been involved in the kink community for many years and have met so many wonderful people, so my tolerance is very low for people who hide behind kink as an excuse to be shitty. Also, I have a queue going, so posts appearing doesn’t mean I’m actually online.

Please note I’m wary of porn blogs with no other content, and I hear the Jaws theme song in my head whenever I get one word messages in my inbox because those “hey” or “hi” openers tends to escalate quickly without my consent. Again, be chill. If I get a weird vibe at all, the block button and I are besties.

Be a kind person, okay? Transphobes, terfs, swerfs, antifeminists, racists, ableists, fatphobes, bigoted jerks DNI. Honestly, get well soon and cut that shit out.

If I ever accidentally interact with something I shouldn’t or tag something in a way that doesn’t feel good, please let me know so I can edit or delete immediately. I respect you.

🌶️ spicy info under the cut 🌶️

Being a verse switch is so fun, okay? I'm attracted to people regardless of gender, and it's just so fun to make people feel good.

I use the traffic light system (💚💛🛑) for consent check-ins. Here is my Yes/No list for both giving and receiving unless otherwise specified:

Yes - praise/worship, puppy play, edging/denial, overstimulation, biting/marking, puppy play, teratophilia rp, impact play (just not face slapping/hitting), gfd, daddy/mommy kink (just no age play or incest rp), strap play / pegging, breeding kink

I think it’s also worth mentioning that there are types of play that I’m happy to engage in even if I’m not personally turned on by them. Examples include foot fetish / nylon fetish play and tickling (as long as I’m not the one getting tickled; that’s a hard no for me)

Sometimes - I don’t really post about any of these on this blog, and if I do, I will be sure to tag those posts. I sometimes enjoy objectification, degradation, humiliation, light CNC, helping a partner enjoy some light CBT, e-stim, watersports (especially during primal/possessive play)

No thanks - Heavy CNC that involves genuine fear play, scat, age play, race play, pro-ED anything, misgendering/detrans, vore, gore (some blood is okay, but gore makes me feel faint), intox/chem, permanent harm/scarring, incest rp

Obvious no (and instant report and block) to actual assault or endangering anyone who can’t consent (e.g. anything to do with minors, bestiality, and so on)

This should go without saying, but if you have a partner / partners who will be hurt by you playing with someone else, please don’t flirt or try to play with me. I’m only down to play with folks engaging in ENM or single folks, okay? Be nice to your partner(s).

Also, since this has been coming up in my asks and dms quite a bit, I’m not looking for a sugar situation. I will just delete the ask/message 🤷‍♀️ Thanks!

[starlightpossum]

LGBTQIA+ FOLKS 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈

ACCEPT DISABLED PPL‼️

ACCEPT NEURODIVERGENT PPL‼️

ACCEPT FURRIES, THERIANS AND KIMONOMIMI PPL‼️

ACCEPT PPL OF ALL BODY TYPES‼️

ACCEPT ALL RACES‼️

ACCEPT TWO-SPIRIT PPL‼️

ACCEPT PPL WITH ALT FASHION‼️

ACCEPT PPL OF ALL RELIGIONS‼️

ACCEPT AROACE PPL‼️

ACCEPT ALL TYPES OF SA AND ABUSE VICTIMS‼️

NORMALIZE AGE APPROPRIATE SEX-ED‼️

NORMALIZE MENTAL HEALTH DIFFICULTIES‼️

NORMALIZE ACCESSIBILITY FOR EVERYONE‼️

NORMALIZE KIDS AT SFW PRIDE EVENTS‼️

NORMALIZE DRAG QUEENS‼️

NORMALIZE PPL WEARIMG WHATEVER THEY WANT‼️

NORMALIZE NOT KNOWING YOUR WHOLE IDENTITY‼️

NORMALIZE ASKING FOR CONSENT‼️

REJECT ZOOPHILES‼️

REJECT MAPS‼️

REJECT RCTA AND TRANSRACE‼️

REJECT BIGOTS‼️

REJECT WHITE SUPREMACY‼️

REJECT WORKPLACE DISCRIMINATION‼️

(all under the assumption you arent hurting others)

Drink water <3<3<3

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

💔

I firmly believe all children should receive comprehensive, age appropriate sex ed, but since Sasha grows up to be aromantic as her mark would suggest, this mostly results in her passing this along to other less properly educated children, much to the horror of their parents

It also results in fun little exchanges when the mangos are older like

Hattie, age 7: how come YOU gotta learn how babies are made when I heard you tell Nessie that if anyone came near you with their weiner out you were just gonna cut it o-

Sasha, age 10, covering her mouth: it makes them feel better mango I don't mind

[whataboutthefish]

Some angst fix it a/b/o Steddie plus Uncle Wayne

Uncle Wayne is an omega. He was widowed before Eddie came to live with him, his presence was as much a balm on his soul as it was a place for Eddie to feel at home, he raised Eddie as his own.

He was raised by the strongest omega there was, and learnt how smart and resilient omegas were. Wayne gave Eddie age appropriate bio/sex ed books with real terms from a young age, he also taught Eddie to nest and never let him get away with anything because of his secondary gender.

So Eddie grew up a very liberal alpha, something uncommon in the 80s.

One night Eddie comes home really distressed and tells his uncle how his boyfriend Steve doesn’t have a nest. Wayne grabs the keys and Eddie’s arm and drives him down to the store where they pick up a whole cart of soft items.

Wayne drives right over to Steve’s house, when they enter Wayne pushes past Eddie and takes Steve in his arms holding him to his chest. He just strokes a hand through Steve’s hair and tells him he’s sorry.

Steve doesn’t know whats happening he sees Eddie and begins to relax, he scents Eddie on Wayne and the scent of family helps him settle until he starts to listen to what Wayne is saying, he’s repeating he’s sorry over and over, and that’s when Steve breaks apart and starts to sob.

When he stops crying Wayne pulls away and kisses him on the forehead, wipes his tears away. He curses at Eddie to stop standing there and go fetch the bags while he has Steve lead him to his bedroom.

They task Eddie with unwrapping everything as Wayne teaches Steve the basics to building a nest.