#not having any kind of say in going through puberty when I did is still a wound for me

[postdoe]

My life would have been so different if someone had suggested to me that being trans was possible for me. Maybe I would have come to different conclusions, maybe not. But I would have enjoyed the chance.

[songbirdseung]

pinky ring / sim jaeyun

synopsis: jake made you a promise to marry you when you two were toddlers. he would fake propose until he really did get down on one knee.

pairing: childhood besties jake x reader

wc: 1.1k

To your parents, it was all good fun. Seeing their child being proposed to by their childhood best friend at their favorite beach. Documentation was highly important to them, filming little you and little jake holding a candy ring pop in his hand, asking your hand in marriage. To them, it was adorable.

For young child you, you were petrified. At the time, your dad just gave a small talk on how to stay away from boys and you're definitely too young to get into a relationship. This happened when you called the actor on scene handsome when you were having a family movie night.

"We are too young Jake" pouting your lips, feeling bad for rejecting his proposal. Jake shrugs and hands you the ring pop anyway. "Fine, I'll just wait and get you a real ring".

That didn't last long because fast forward to the next year, he does it again. He has done it so much that for the next few following years, it had become an inside joke to everyone in your immediate family.

"You have rejected me for 4 years now" crossing his arms in a fit, Jake looks at you disappointed. "Maybe because we are only 12 years old?"

At this point, you aren't sure if he's doing this because he really wants to marry you or just to tease you and lead any guy interested in you far far away. Remembering all the instances where a boy would approach you during lunch and sit next to you and confess and say that they think you' re cute. There then comes Jake, wearing a smug smirk and says something along the lines of "I'm actually her future husband, please go away".

It makes you think about how you could never get away from Jake and his antics.

Even when you guys reached your teenage years, almost reaching adulthood, Jake never dropped the fake proposal joke. Like on your 19th birthday, at the restaurant he took you both to, he claims how he's your boyfriend and he's planning to propose soon, the waiter thought he was weird for saying that he wanted to propose soon with you sitting right there but nonetheless, he gave you both free desserts.

You thought at by the age of 14, he'd stop since you both are going through puberty, his feelings would change and he'd drop it due to his own pride and embarrassment, but no.

Now you both were 20, if you had to count how many fake proposals Jake has done over the years, it would reach 100.

"You can't say that we are too young, we're both legal adults and we basically known each other our whole lives." You turn over to him and flick his forehead, causing him wince in pain and shoo you away from him. "You're mean"

"You're the one that wants to marry me, so get used to it"

"Oh, so you're playing along now" He removes his hand from his head and pokes your side. "After years, you're finally warming up to the idea"

"Keep that up, I won't be anymore" Once you said that you realize how you didn't even deny it. Looking back at Jake who went back to playing video games, you take in his appearance and guide your eyes to follow the lines that make his side profile.

Jake was good looking, you knew that. He's always been the apple of your eye since you two were kids, then as you got to know him, his humor, personality, and behavior kind of sealed the deal for you.

"If you keep staring at me, I might disintegrate."

"Then, who is going to marry me?"

"We're still on that? I thought you didn't want to?"

"Make me your girlfriend and I'll rethink it" Now it was your turn to cause a ruckus in Jake's mind. He pauses the game and looks over to you, reading your expression wondering if you were serious or not.

That night, Jake stayed over. Unlike the other past sleepovers that you two had, this one was different because the way you cuddle into him now, it felt different. He was always yours and until now, just a different kind. He was now your boyfriend, not boy-friend.

With your dynamic and bond with Jake, it felt like sunshine and rainbows most of the times, being around each other all the time and knowing each other too well, you always found ways to fix things or any miscommunication that would come along.

Transitioning to relationship from friendship was surprisingly easy from the outside perspective but the thing with you and Jake was he was always a gentleman and treated you right and how you deserved to be treated, and of course vice versa.

When you told your mom the news, she did not show any surprised reaction, simply telling you how she saw it coming and was just waiting for this moment to happen, you dad shared a similar reaction, happy that it was Jake to be the one you were dating.

Fast forward to a whole year of dating Jake. People would say that you two were like a fairytale love, match made in heaven, meant for each other, all that. "Hey yn, maybe you should do that trend where you call Jake your husband"

"I'm pretty sure he's already seen that on tiktok, no?"

Still, even if he did, you were going to do it just to see his reaction. That same day, you two meet up after your last class ended. Waiting for you somewhere in the university's campus, you run up to him and give him a hug. "Someone missed me?"

In the car ride home, you guys both agreed to stop by your favorite restaurant and get some take out. Which was a perfect time to put your little prank in action. Just like everyone else, after placing your order, you ask Jake what he wants and tell the waiter. "Then my husband would like ___"

Once the waiter leaves, you finally take notice of Jake who is wide eyed, staring at you in awe. "There's no way you just called me that" To say he was a lovesick puppy after that was an understatement.

But now since you called him that, you have to keep calling him that. Because if you call him or introduce him as your boyfriend, he'll act surprised and startled. "Are you asking for a divorce?" "Do you not love me anymore?" "I thought I was your husband?" to name a few.

"I'm gonna have to propose now, for real this time"

[gilverrwrites]

would love to hear more of ur thoughts of jason... ANY jason thoughts, virgin, getting pegged, dom, on top on bottom, angry, emotional, loving, clingy...

any jason thoughts are appreciate tenfold pls i love the way you write its so sensual and enjoyable (//ω//)

Virgin!Jason/Sex Worker!Reader, 1.9K Words Why thank you anon, you're too kind. It’s funny you sent this in because I have been thinking about Jason a lot recently. Bit of a an odd one actually, I’ve been thinking about how easily he could get hooked on OFs or something similar. Stay with me here...

‘Jason loves cars, and girls, and getting into fights…’

The problem is, ever since he came back, he doesn’t know how to talk to or act around women.

Think about it. He was a teenage boy when he died, still going through puberty, never truly finding closure on all those changes. Now he’s a man.

A man with emotions, and desires, and urges that he doesn’t understand and has no idea how to satiate. The not knowing makes him nervous, angry even.

The first and only time Roy tried the “Have you met Jay?” line it was painful. Like giving water to a hydrophobe. Dying of thirst, wanting it so bad, but his hands are shaking, he can barely even make eye contact, let alone hold a conversation. Or touch her. Man, he wanted to touch her, she had such a pretty smile and glowing skin and the most brilliant laugh. He wound up muttering a ‘sorry, bye.’ To the floor and walking out. When Roy finally caught up, he got one hell of an earful. Yelling was all Jay could do not to start throwing punches he'd regret later. Roy had only had the best of intentions after all.

It was Dick who’d mentioned that the posters of half-naked women splayed across car bonnets or dowsed in lite beer might be a bit distasteful. He’d wanted to argue, if they’re bad, why do they sell them? But he was smarter than that really, and Dick was right, if he ever did bring a girl home, he wouldn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. Though the mattress without a bed frame and the lack of amenities might do that anyway. Regardless, he takes them down and throws them out along with a stack of vintage Playboys from his youth. He’ll rely on the words of D. H. Lawrence, Cleland and the likes for that sort of thing.

And just reading works, for a while. But there are itches books just can’t scratch, and like hell is he mortified himself trying to talk to women in public again. He’d almost gotten up the courage once since the debacle with Roy.

At the library, looking for classics and checking out their damaged clearance sale. He’d noticed her the moment he’d entered, such a sweet, sharp woman, teaching seniors how to use computers. He’d lingered for a while, until the class was over, determined to make small talk with her while getting his books checked out, but then he remembered what he was checking out. Immediately he was flooded with doubt. She'd think he was a perv. He put his books on the put-back trolly and left without a word.

That same night, feeling sorry for himself is when he falls down the rabbit hole of social media. Scrolling endlessly through post after post of girls on Instagram. His own page consisted of only a faceless gym selfie and the engine of a bike he’d been restoring, but he followed a lot of accounts. Book reviewers, muscle car enthusiasts, musicians. It wasn’t purely coincidental that most of those content creators were women.

His heart jumps out of his chest when he gets a notification, that doesn’t happen often, and usually it’s from Dick sending him funny dog videos, or Steph tagging him memes but this one is a ‘follow back’.

He’d been following you for a while, liking all your posts and occasionally commenting. Nothing flirty, he didn’t wanna seem like one of those creeps saying gross, inappropriate shit, but that often resulted in him sounding lame for praising the high amount of protein in your home-cooked meal, or something else mundane. Today he’s pointed out how nice the clouds in the back of your group selfie looked but apparently that was enough to get your attention.

You like his two photos and drop him a message. “Hadn’t noticed but you’re right. Those clouds were very pretty.”

‘Not as pretty as you.’ He types out then quickly deletes it. You were very pretty, exactly the kind of girl he would choke up around. You didn't have a lot of followers, and your posts weren't really curated to a theme or gimmick. You just documented your life. For some reason though Jason had been drawn to you ever since your smiling face had popped up in his recommended following.

Instead replies with a very creative “Yeah”

“Sorry, hope I’m not bothering you. You just seem cool.”

“You’re not bothering me.” He answers instantly, not wanting to put you off but unsure what to say.

“Good! If you’re ever feeling chatty, hmu 😊”

Easier said than done, but he massively appreciates the offer. He just doesn’t know how to take you up on it. Looking for inspiration he looks at your account again, noticing a link in your bio that he’s sure hadn’t been there when he’d first followed you. He does a spit take when it leads him to an OF page. No, that definitely was not there before.

Now he’s even more unsure what to do. Would it be weird for him to subscribe after you’d just spoken to him? Or was that what you wanted? Surely you put it there because you want subscribers, right? Should he ask you or would that make it more awkward? Why is taking down drug lords and killer clowns less scary and confusing than this?

He stews on the conundrum for a while, but eventually, he takes the plunge, signing up with the same username as his Instagram, irlgothamzombie. He could spend all night looking at your posts, and he does. Judging by your post history, and low interactions, you’ve not been doing this long, but he circles through the same handful of posts over and over, keeping his own hands full throughout. wink wink.    

He can’t get enough of looking at your body, squeezed into little costumes, draped in colourful lingerie, naked and stark against your bedspread. There’s one video in particular he can’t get enough of though, it’s you in a lacy green slip, giggling as you play with the hem, teasing the camera with a cheeky glint in your eye but never really showing anything. He plays it over and over again, fisting his cock as he images it’s his hands sneaking up your thighs, making you laugh over and over until he cums into his hand.

Even though the caption is specifically asking him your followers what type of content they’d like to see you make while in that outfit, he only comments “nice wallpaper” and logs out, cheeks burning with shame as he cleans up.

It’s a few days before he works up the nerve to log back in. He’s still high on adrenaline after a face-off with Black Mask. Feeling bold and looking for release, it’s the first thing he does when he gets home but seeing two notifications from you is like having a bucket of ice water thrown at him.

You’d replied to his comment, “😂Hadn’t noticed but you’re right.”

When he hadn’t said anything else you’d sent him another DM. “Losing interest, or are you just the shy type?”

“The ‘you’re so hot I don’t know how to talk to you type.’” He’d read through the other comments you’d gotten, that felt tame. A little out of his comfort zone, but safe enough to press send.

“That’s actually so sweet.” You get back to him quickly, sending multiple messages at once. Hopefully that means you’re glad to hear from him. “You can talk to me however you like.”

“You never said what you wanted to see me do?”

“If you’re comfy answering.”

Shitshitshit. His throat is painfully dry as he thinks up a response. “idk but I like it on.”

“green is my favorite color.”

“looks good on you”

“Do you want to see me fuck myself while wearing it?” The question is accompanied by a racy picture of you wearing the slip in reference that you hadn’t posted anywhere else.

YES! “yeah”

“Should I use my hands, or something naughtier?”

“whatever you like best” it probably seems like such a cop-out answer but he means it. “want you to enjoy it as much as I will”

“Can’t tell if you’re my nicest subscriber or not, but I got you, sweet stuff 😉”

The next day you upload the results, and he watches it straight away, not that he’d been waiting for it or anything. He’s already half-hard when he hits the play button. Then you say “This one’s specifically for you irlgothamzombie” straight into the camera with a wink and he can’t get his dick out of his pants fast enough.

He tries to take it slow, wanting to enjoy the whole video but that’s easier said than done. He’s leaking pre-cum minutes into watching as you run your hands along your body, dipping your fingers between your legs, over your covered nipples but never revealing anything.

His resolve wavers when you start to rub yourself through the fabric, cooing and moaning as you build friction. He bites his lip so hard to ground himself that it starts to bleed.

Then you bring out the big guns, he doesn’t know what it’s called, but it’s some kind of toy. Long, with a round head that you hold to your clit and fuck, do you enjoy it. You’re practically drooling as you buck your hips and roll your eyes back. Your orgasm is loud and wet, and he almost breaks until he realises there are still a few minutes left.

You keep going, so he does too. Holding out until the very end. Is it possible that sex could feel better than this? Wild.

He messages you first this time.

He buys the green slip and the matching thong, still dirty after you’d cum all over them. Under the bawdy smell of sex he can just make scent of your perfume. It's intoxicating. Maybe he should ask you what brand it is so he can get a bottle and spray it all over his apartment.

He spends all day in bed, clutching the delicate lace to his chest and sucking on the underwear until his dick aches and he physically can’t cum again without hurting himself.

He isn’t sure how he feels about your return PO Box being in Blüdhaven. It's exciting and terrifying to think that you're real, and out in the world, within driving distance even. He could just bump into you one day. He could probably track you down if he wanted to but he kind of likes the comfort of you being behind a screen.

Eventually, he buys every service you offer, custom videos, a dick rating, your private Snapchat, and he practically purges your wish list. Not just the sexy stuff, but the gift cards, the clothes, the collectables, anything you want.

With every purchase you send him your thanks, ask him about his day, his interests both sexual and in general. You offer him services for free or heavily discounted, expressions of your gratitude for all he’s done but he always declines.

A part of him believes that you’d still talk to him if he stopped financing you, you're practically two steps away from asking for it outright, and he knows that. But the money is like a safety net. Like his helmet; a barrier between him and heartbreaking humiliation. As long as he keeps doling out the cash, he’ll never have to know if you’d reject him without it.

[aewon]

what's after like?

sunghoon x f!reader genre: fluff warnings: none wc: 1,295

inspired by after like by ive!

for @bywons event! love u sruby

Sunghoon has been your best friend for as long as you can remember.

Your earliest memory is of 4-year-old you with 4-year-old Sunghoon, playing in the sandbox. 

A mean kid came by and ruined Sunghoon's sand castle. You didn't like seeing another kid cry, so you told the boy's mom. 

He got dragged out of the park, kicking and screaming.

You returned to the sandbox to see Sunghoon smiling, and that's when you introduced yourselves.

From that point forward, you and Sunghoon were inseparable.

You went through every stage of life together, even the awkward ones.

Of course, when puberty struck, you noticed Sunghoon becoming more handsome than you last remembered. 

Now, you didn't say anything.

Sunghoon was cocky in a playful way. You didn't want to stroke his ego further. 

This newfound attractiveness came with more people, especially girls, interested in Sunghoon.

You were 14 when he got his first girlfriend.

Not wanting to cross any boundaries, you stepped back, only interacting with Sunghoon when he initiated it.

That relationship didn't last, and before you knew it, Sunghoon became known as one of your school's playboys. Having a new girlfriend every month became a habit for him.

But you didn't judge. You didn't pry. You didn't do anything.

Sunghoon was still your best friend, and you didn't want to jeopardize that.

Today, you and Sunghoon are at your house, chilling. 

“How are you and Veronica?” You ask, messing with your hair in front of your vanity.

Sunghoon, lying on your bed, shakes his head before saying, “We broke up.”

Confused, you turn to him, “But I thought you guys were doing well?”

“It just didn't work,” he said, scrolling through his phone.

While Sunghoon has had several girlfriends, you haven't even had your first boyfriend. 

Being a senior in high school without even having your first kiss is kind of embarrassing. Then again, you've never been teased for it.

“Can you help me get a boyfriend?” You ask, taking the conversation in a completely different direction. 

“You don't need a boyfriend,” Sunghoon replies curtly, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

“I know I don't need one, but I want one. You get to have a million and one girlfriend, but I can't have a boyfriend?”

Sunghoon finally looks up at you, but the usual playfulness in his eyes is not present. Instead, he almost looks angry.

“Guys are no good. You don't need somebody who's just going to play with your heart.”

You don't know why you're suddenly annoyed, but before you can stop yourself, you snap, “What, someone like you?”

Sunghoon eyes widen, taking in your words. 

You turn away from him, immediately regretting what you said, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean that-”

Before you can say anything else, Sunghoon leaves your room. You call after him, flinching as you hear the front door slam.

Tears prick your eyes, and you bury your head in your hands.

Great, now you just ruined the one genuine friendship you had.

The next day at school, you try to look for Sunghoon, but he's nowhere to be found.

You ask his other friends, a group of boys Sunghoon met in his first year.

“I saw him this morning, but he seemed to be in a pissy mood, so we didn't bother him. Did something happen?” Heeseung asks.

You sit at the table, telling them what happened the day before.

“Y/N, don't worry about it. Technically, what you said isn't wrong. Maybe it sparked something inside Hoon,” Sunoo says, touching your shaking one.

The other guys look at each other like they know something you don't. As you're about to ask what's up, the bell rings.

You sigh, frustrated, but get up, leaving for class.

The rest of the day passes with no sign of Sunghoon. In your last period of the day, you hear two girls gossiping in the back corner.

“Did you hear about Sunghoon?”

They immediately catch your attention, and you subtly lean back to hear the rest of the conversation.

“What happened?”

“Younghee asked him out during lunch, and he rejected her. Can you believe it?”

Younghee? You know her, she's one of the most popular girls in your school.

She asked Sunghoon out, and he rejected her, you wonder why.

From what you know, she's a nice girl. There's no reason as to why Sunghoon shouldn't have at least given her a chance.

Once the bell rings and your day ends, you rush to the parking lot to see if you can spot Sunghoon's car.

You see it, but he's already speeding out of the parking lot onto the street.

You sigh. He must be avoiding you. You must've hurt his feelings.

Getting into your own car, you drive home with a sense of guilt plaguing your heart.

When you get home, you see Sunghoon's car parked by your house.

He's sitting on your porch, head in his hands.

You park in your driveway, get out, and walk up to him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, slinging your bag across your shoulder.

He looks up, his eyes red, like he'd been crying.

You immediately bend down to his height, “Hoon, what's wrong? Did something happen?”

He shakes his head, “No, I just needed to talk to you.”

You invite him inside, and the house is quiet because your parents aren't home.

He sits on the couch while you go to the kitchen for water. 

Once you sit down, Sunghoon starts speaking. 

“I'm sorry for running out on you yesterday and avoiding you today at school. I just had a lot on my mind.”

“Sunghoon, I should be the one apologizing. What I said was too much, and I didn't mean it.”

He shakes his head, “You don't need to apologize… you were right. I do play with girl’s hearts. I’m one of the guys I told you to stay away from.” 

“But Sunghoon,” you start, “You're so much more than that. You're kind and caring. You put others before yourself, especially me. You're one of the greatest people I've ever known. I don't know why your relationships don't work out, but they don't define you.”

“I know why they don't work out,” he says, “They don't work out because I'm the one who doesn't give any effort.”

“But why, Sunghoon?”

“Because they're not who I truly want.”

You scoot closer to him on the couch, putting your hand over his, “Then who do you want, Hoon?”

He pauses.

“You, Y/N. I want you. I've always wanted you.”

You don't register his answer for a second, the words running through your mind a million miles a minute.

“Me?”

Sunghoon nods, “It's always been you. I know I shouldn't have used those other girls, but… I thought I couldn't have you.”

“Sunghoon,” you coo, “You've always had me.”

You place a gentle hand on his cheek, turning his head to face you.

His lip wobbles like he's going to cry again.

You press your lips on his, stroking his cheek.

He kisses you back, turning his head to deepen it.

You've never felt something like this—this amount of happiness and warmth.

His hands make their way to your waist, holding you tightly.

You feel his tongue tease your bottom lip.

Opening your mouth slightly, you let him inside. 

The taste of him makes you feel weak.

You don't want to pull away, but you need air, so you do reluctantly. 

“Is this real?” Sunghoon asks, stroking your waist with his big hands.

You giggle, “It's real, Hoonie. You know what comes after like?”

He shakes his head.

“Love. I love you, Sunghoon.”

He smiles, his fangs, your favorite part of him, showing. “I love you more, Y/N.”

i will be updating mafs today so look out for that hehe

[merbear25]

You write VERY well, and I would like you to make a request to Mihok, Kid, Zoro and Buggy with their child, who has been part of the Gothic subculture since childhood. Unless you certainly mind👉👈

That’s such a lovely thing to say!🥺 I’m so glad you enjoy my writing. I do not mind in the slightest, but since you chose more than three characters, I gave Zoro the chopping block (I’m sorry). I hope you enjoy what I’ve written for you.💜💜

CW: SFW, gn!reader, fluff, headcanons/scenarios, good family dynamic, some humor

Raising a child who's goth (Mihawk, Kid, Buggy)

Mihawk

There was a nurturing side to him without a doubt. Given the fact that you were his child, he would give you boundless support.

Even if those ways weren’t what you might have wanted, they were what you needed, some of which being lessons that you couldn’t appreciate until you were much older.

Like any other child and teenager, you had your moments of insecurities, especially once you began going through puberty. You began worrying about what the other kids may think of you more often than you used to, which led to long conversations about the value of individuality.

In the end, you stuck with your alternative style and did so with confidence. He couldn’t have been more proud of you.

He wasn’t a stranger to the fashion you preferred. In saying that, you were still so young and were still experimenting with what spoke to you specifically.

There were some comments he made, albeit well intentioned, that got an undeserved snarky response, which you would regret and later apologize for.

Although he didn’t take those kinds of things to heart, he was still your father and gave you a firm talking to when you crossed the line.

There were a lot of bands you found out about through him. Music became a bonding experience for the both of you—not just enjoying the music itself but also what it meant to you.

Kid

He couldn’t help but smirk once you started developing your own style.

There was a sense of pride he had that you were going against the grain, even if the other kids gave you the stink eye. This man trained you on snappy comebacks and death glares.

He beamed with pride when you put those wannabe bullies in their place. “That’s my kid!” He grinned to himself.

As proud of you as he was for being your own person, he was still him, meaning you were not immune to his teasing comments on your bad hair days.

“It’s a style!” You’d shout.

“Rats’ nests aren’t in fashion!” His laugh boomed over any retort you had.

Makeup was something you had to figure out on your own. Sure, he wore some but he was far from skilled in the way you would’ve needed him to be. He steals some of your stuff and tricks, by the way.

During the holidays and birthdays, you could always expect some new piece of jewelry or accessory that was handmade by your father. 

Regrettably, you went through phases of adoring them, feeling embarrassed by them, until you were finally able to appreciate them for what they were—a thoughtful gift.

When it came to the music you listened to, he could kind of get on board with it. He offered to take you to a concert one year, which was an offer you couldn’t refuse. Needless to say, you both had a blast.

Buggy

Would love how much you stand out and never hesitated to point out what he liked about your accessories and what not. 

That was all very sweet of him, but he was still your dad, which meant you countered his compliments with eyerolls and groans.

Buying clothes would be a whole ordeal; you dragged your feet doing it with him because he was so adamant about having you try this and that on, as well as putting in his two cents about what you should or shouldn’t pair with them.

“Dad, I know what I’m doing!” You complained, even though you had no clue, and he was giving good advice.

As much of an eyesore you were at times, he bit his tongue as best he could.

However, when it came to makeup, you knew deep down that he was the perfect person to get tips from.

At first, you were riddled with embarrassment, but you managed to push down your pride after reflecting on how patchy your foundation had been.

He teased you a little bit, but it was all coming from a good place. He taught you everything you needed and wanted to know, including all the tricks and hacks he picked up over the years.

When it came to the subculture’s music, he just wanted you to be happy. In all honesty, he enjoyed all of it but thought it best not to bring it up. He didn’t want you to stop enjoying it just because your old man did.

[semisomnosres]

First meeting with another ninja ally: Guardian of the Secret Garden

In addition to the gifts of the forest (which more often beat your ass than allow themselves to be collected), fortunately for the ninja, most of the necessary flora grows in the garden, which is monitored by the keeper. This is a very serious job, despite the barrier that hides its location (similar to what Plop-Plop had), sometimes the monsters manage to wander close to the gate.

But the most important part is to prevent these victims of puberty from accidentally destroying the contents of the garden (believe me, this part is much more difficult than it seems) with their ignorance. After a situation several centuries ago when one ninja cretin decided that making a “snow angel” in a flower bed was a “good” idea, after which he received chemical burns from them all over his body, because “unexpectedly” they turned out to be poisonous, and in addition a elegant kick in the ass out of the gate. (Goto is still angry at Nomi and Creep for choosing someone like that for their post) From now on, Goto refuses to let the ninjas in (even though they are technically his superiors) and gives everything he needs on the way out, viciously shushing him if the impudent child tries to get through the gate, he lets him in only as an exception if he sees that the current ninja is able to control himself and not cause harm to plants around him with his mere presence. It all started when one day the First looked at his list of tasks, which included: managing the city, its protection, caring for citizens, developing poisons and medicines, daily patrols and other time-consuming duties - he sighed heavily and agreed that he should not be a gardener Plop plop: wow, he admitted that he needs more help. In total, it took almost a month to bring myself to the point of mental and physical decay, I’ll even applaud this achievement, I thought he`d be stubborn for at least another 3 months. (of course he didn’t say this out loud, but EVERYTHING was clear from his face) The search for a person for this should have been quite quick, especially since recently a rather persistent candidate had loomed, who happily agreed.

Goto was born very far from Norisville, in a family of samurai, and almost all his life he was trained for this position. After coming of age 18, he took up the post, but fate was unkind because it was during this period when epidemic began to spread. Goto's hometown was ravaged and destroyed by monsters, which is why he, his sister and the rest citizens had to leave it and look for a new refuge. The long, exhausting journey was not a problem for him, but the very fact of change was difficult for him, he was too tied to his home, but he could not leave his sister, so he decided to leave with the others, feeling useless since he could not somehow prevent this situation . During their wanderings, they heard rumors about a city where lives a ninja who has healing magic, capable of turning the monster back into a human. That's where they headed, and when they almost got there, a terrible thing happened - Goto's sister fell under a curse and turned into a terrible monster and attacked her friends. Goto immediately reacted and somehow drove her into a nearby cave and prevented her from going out and killing someone. While the others rushed towards the city for help, Goto alone held it back without sparing himself, he prayed to any gods that the stories about the ninja’s abilities were true and that it was still possible to save a dear family member, and when the ninja arrived, 3 hours had passed. Although she managed to injure Goto and others, she did not eat anyone and was eventually healed and became herself again. After the rescue and kind gesture of providing them shelter in the city, Goto wanted to somehow repay such generosity, so he took on any work, from helping in the field to construction. But he continued to feel useless and that this was not enough, (and still blamed himself for the fact that he couldn`t save their city even though it was not in his power) so he was quite… persistent with his offers of help (Plop-Plop did not have time to come out this +2 meter nonsense was waiting from the house as if at the porch) And when he was offered a position of a Guardian, he rejoiced as if it was his birthday. Although he is very happy and he is grateful that he was entrusted with such an important position, he is still haunted by the fear that he will let Ninja down and not live up to all hopes and expectations, although he tries not to show it.

[kn-1013]

FTM Larry Headcannons

I really like FTM Larry, it's extremely underrated. Sal and Travis get headcannoned as trans a lot, but I think Larry should also have some transgenderism too. As a treat. Especially since this is one of those headcannons I can't easily make a story about, because there's not much plot to a story where the entire concept is "so Larry is trans". Not unless I did some kind of biography for him, but I'm not doing that. So here you go.

It's kind of an open secret, nobody really talks about it, mostly because Larry is 6 feet tall and knows how to throw a punch.

He was adamant about being a boy from a young age, frequently introducing himself to others as a boy. Lisa listened to this behavior and went with her son's self expression, eventually managing to use some rather shady methods to get him HRT a couple of years after he started puberty and his dysphoria skyrocketed into suicidality.

I imagine that being trans is about as common on Jim's planet as it is on Earth, and that his reaction was similar to Lisa's, as there was very little that would really make him want to fuck up the life he's made here. He did not go through all the effort of finding another habitable planet with Evelyn, then losing her in the process, nearly losing himself looking for her, and then having saved himself by Lisa, just to get mad that his daughter wants to be a boy now.

I also imagine that, with Jim's society being heavily implied to be a lot more advanced than that of Earth's, it might be much more acceptable on his planet to be trans than it often is on Earth, and that Jim may have been the one to help Lisa understand what was going on with Larry, since she might not have known about transgender people or otherwise might not have had a strong grasp of the subject.

However, Jim never managed to live to see the man that Larry got to grow into, of course.

Due to the shady and early transition, it was easy to get his birth certificate changed under the guise that he is a cisgender man who was simply marked as female through some kind of freak mistake.

While he has boobs, they stopped growing after he started HRT and as a result they're small and not bothersome unless he's swimming or something.

Juvy didn't really know what to do with him. They put him in the boys' prison, but he was kept fairly isolated, with his own room. He was bigger and stronger than a lot of the others in there, which was a plus, but he still had to be incredibly aggressive to assert himself and avoid harassment. Needless to say, he didn't make any friends there.

While people don't talk about it around Larry or to his face very often, many people have spoken about it behind his back, in hushed whispers. Though, nowadays, it mostly just feels like a baseless rumor more than anything else to most people, considering he's 6 feet tall and pretty strong. Not exactly what most people think of when they think "man who used to be a woman" or anything of the like.

Once Sal moves in to town, though, the rumors start shifting to him instead, and Sal almost never hears anything about Larry being trans. When he does, he assumes it's tangentially related to the rumors about himself.

Telling Sal that he's trans was a huge step for Larry, since it's not often something he talks about openly. Ash and Todd know, but only because they've both known him for such a long time. But Larry decides to take this leap, knowing Sal is incredibly unlikely to react poorly, and he does it because of what happened with Sal's prosthetic falling off that one time. That was a huge moment for Sal--having someone see him without his prosthetic was incredibly vulnerable for him, but now he knew he could trust Larry with that part of him. Larry came out to him to repay that vulnerability with his own, to show Sal that he trusted him just as much.

Sal, of course, did not react poorly. He instead reacted with intense curiosity and many questions, such as, "So do you get periods?" (yes) "Do they hurt?" (yes) "What's it like to have boobs?" (they don't do much) "Do you have a dick now?" (yeah but not in the way you're thinking) "You ever gonna get a sex change?" (probably) "So how does dating work?" (it doesn't) "What happened with juvie?" (it got complicated) "Does Travis know?" (yes) "What does he think?" (he doesn't if he knows what's good for him) "What was it like before the hormones?" (bad) "What was it like to live as a girl?" (bad) "Were you this tall before the hormones?" (yes) "Do you ever regret it?" (not even a little bit). Etc, etc.

Oddly enough, Sal can find himself relating to the feeling of mind-body incongruence, with the way he feels disconnected from his own appearance. It's different, obviously, but that ability to relate to that experience brings him closer to Larry and helps him understand better. Frankly, he thinks it's cool that you can just change genders if you really want to.

PMS and periods are a tumultuous time every month, bringing back dysphoria and negativity in his head, but it gets easier for him as time goes on and his transition continues. Luckily, Sal understands suicidality, mood swings, and depression very well.

Larry never got the chance to really get into dating, but if he did, he would probably be more into other trans people than any other kind of person (Sal/Larry or Larry/Travis notwithstanding). It's just easier to be with someone who already understands most of these experiences already than to have to continuously explain them to every cisgender person he goes out with.

I hope these are enjoyable. Come back for maybe more headcannons. Or don't.

[s-henanigans-h]

I Identified as Asexual for 10 years, it was just Catholic Guilt. (Long Post)

I need to talk about this because I’m so nervous to talk about it. I whole-heartedly identified as asexual for ten entire years because of how deeply entrenched my catholic guilt and shame was. And asexual people are often told their identity is a phase and so I’m scared to talk about my experience because I don’t want people thinking my case can be extrapolated to other asexuals. Also no hatred towards Catholics, I personally have issues with the institution and it hurt me, but if it adds meaning to your life I respect your relationship with it. Brief SH mention in 3rd paragraph. No SA/violence/abuse at any point.

I began identifying as asexual around age 12 probably, it could be 14 I don’t know for sure. And only this past summer (I’m 22) did I start to pull the thread of “is _____ a thing I actually believe or was I taught to believe it” because I’m trying to unpack some of the underlying catholic teachings. I didn’t think I was raised particularly strongly Catholic but as I look back and talk to my friends about their experiences I realize mine was the outlier. I had a strongly sheltered childhood and was being socialized as a good catholic girl (who was inevitably going to end up with an anxiety disorder).

I hit puberty around 11. I was still in the Catholic Church (though I don’t know if I ever truly believed, but I sure was trying my hardest). I began going through “first puberty” and began to hate my body. I thought I must have an eating disorder because I couldn’t think of anything else that would make me hate my body so much as it changed. Turned out I was trans. I was the kind of person who didn’t know until I hit puberty.

While my family and community were not openly homo/transphobic, there are some subtextual things and subliminal messaging present, in addition to the official teachings of the church that I learned. So all the years of “first puberty” are wrapped in shame around my body, my mom not encouraging me to talk about anything that is happening, being taught not to talk about my body full stop. This is around the time I start self-harming. Nobody should be surprised (I’ll talk about this another time).

I started to identify as bi around age 12. I always said bi, never bisexual. Because that was the bad part. That was the word I couldn't say. Imagine being raised in a sex-positive household. Now imagine the opposite - I was raised in a sex-negative household. We do not talk about sex. It is never appropriate to talk about sex. People should not experience or talk about sexual attraction. And even if these messages were not said out loud they were communicated consistently throughout most of my life (they still are).

This is, of course, a difficult attitude to hold while actively going through puberty. When I have any type of romantic or sexual feeling I get terrified and would either pretend it didn’t happen, make up some excuse for it, or even pray or repeatedly repress the thought. I also was diagnosed with ocd at age 12. My first major obsession theme was moral scrupulosity and masturbation. I was told that this thing that I wanted to do (and did) was so horribly wrong that I needed to confess it to a priest and never do it again. (Here we see a classic example of belief-desire incongruence). So it became an OCD spiral that occupied hours of my day. But I was still in a world where I could not talk about sex, so I was dealing with this entire experience alone as a teenager. Again, it is no wonder I had depression, I was actively doing things (and identifying in ways) that were making me happy, yet I was told were morally despicable.

When I was about 14 or so I found the label “asexual” online. And suddenly everything made sense (or so I thought). I convinced myself immediately that:

1. I never experienced sexual attraction.

2. I could hide behind this label and then no one would ever expect me to engage in something that would be morally wrong for me to do.

And I told myself:

3. This label was why I never understood why people talked about or engaged in sex (spoilers, that was the Catholic upbringing)

4. That’s why I had so much shame about sex was because it was “not really me” (early leaning to repress emotions/desires)

It was perfect. But none of this was conscious, or at least I never realized it or thought about it. I just found a label that fit me, I was asexual and biromantic, and I’d never engage with sex or experience sexual attraction so then I’d be *good*.

I convinced myself that this was true and an accurate assessment of my feelings for the next 9 years. Even when I started T and went through “second puberty” and started to experience more genuine sexual attraction I shut myself off and disconnected and said that it was just my body experiencing it and not my mind and therefore it wasn’t bad or wrong. I just repressed any thought, feeling or action related to sex. This went on from ages 14 to 21.

I told a crush that I was asexual my freshman year of college because the idea that he would ever expect me to have sex or that I would want to was so terrifying and wrong that it was easier to say that I didn’t want it up front so it’d never be put in that position. We never got together. Sometimes I wonder if I knew then what I know now if we would have gotten together.

I started to realize the extent to which Catholicism informs my actions and feelings this past summer. It’s truly terrifying and did lead to a brief depressive episode. I’m mad about the things that I was taught to believe, and the way that I was encouraged to feel about myself.

I still struggle to be on par with my peers in many settings because I was raised with such a strict moral code and ideas of what is “right” and “wrong” or “appropriate” and “inappropriate”. Once I started to question each of these beliefs and found myself thinking about them I realized how freeing it is to notice that I’ve been believing something that simply isn’t true or I never really believed it, I just was told that I needed to.

It’s wild. And terrifying. And annoying. I went on my first date recently at age 22. They weren’t raised Catholic. I feel this massive deficit and want to trust someone to help me through it and help me learn how other people experience the world. I know that my parents and the church community didn’t mean to hurt me or cause damage, but they did. I usually don’t share like this but I think it’s important to open up from an ex-Catholic pov, an ex-asexual pov, and someone who has moral and sexual ocd themes.

If you relate to any of this or want to talk about it or your own experiences, message me, I’m happy to chat. I’d like to post more of my thoughts on this sideblog since I don’t see this pov shared often and I want people to know they’re not alone (I want to know I’m not alone).

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Anonymous asked:

Are there any rare pairs you find yourself enjoying? Or ships you hadn't considered before? I think Ace and Malleus would be funny to entertain if he could get passed the intimidation. Just normal boy and etheral prince (giving Connecticut Clerk and Malfina vibes, lol)

It’s difficult to say, Anon, apparently the majority of our ships are considered rare ships…

Ace and Malleus does have potential, the contrast between a normal boy and ethereal prince is always fun + I still think about that one time when Ace called Malleus out during the Halloween event. The boy is ballsy, and with Malleus this is both a plus and a hazard lol

We actually did this chart not that ago, so might as well post it here! It must have some rare ships lol

Anonymous asked:

Does this mean he’ll kiss inanimate objects too? 🤨

(related to this post (I think))

He might! Rook doesn’t discriminate, and Tettere doesn’t discriminate either, so combined they are unstoppable lol

Anonymous asked:

I’m surprised Ace didn’t just hire Ruggie for the hickeys. He seems to have more experience than Epel who seems to vacuum skin up like french fries

(this is about this sketch from ko-fi)

Ruggie is indeed much more experienced than Epel-the-vacuum-sucker, but Ruggie would take money for that, and Epel was kind enough to help just like that! Plus, Ruggie is a senpai with whom Ace doesn’t talk too often, so it’s probably very awkward for him to ask for something like this…

Anonymous asked:

This is a long ask and about dumb takes so feel free to ignore it, but most made me laugh at how absurd they are so I wanted to share.

Tumblr does have some odd takes but I think Pinterest/Reddit has more...not bright people.  NSFW ship art of the 1st and 2nd years always has some people upset that there's kids in sexual situations cause they think you can't have or know about sex till you're 18.  SFW ships between 3rd years and not 3rd years have people saying it's illegal cause adults dating minors is always wrong (people seriously think the only stages of life are legal adult and legal minor.  I never thought saying someone younger than 10 is different than someone going through puberty was mindblowing...  So happy I found an adblocker that hides comments).  Reddit had someone freaking out that Yuu stayed in Leona's room even though Leona's 20 and Yuu could be 16 (existing in the same space as someone a different age than you is wrong now I guess), people taking Malleus' age literally and thinking this non-human fantasy species ages the same as humans so since he's older than 18 he's an adult like the staff are (which had gems such as people saying thinking he's a teen/not an adult is infantizing him and that he may be not an adult in fae years but he's a tax-paying adult in human years), and my favorite, people seriously debating who's on the inter-school spelldrive team and how could they lose with Malleus cause even though he's not in the club there's still a chance to be on the team since one person from every dorm has to join it... (I...I guess they don't know what a sports club is...)

But my top favorite take is from Tumblr:

Someone said they like that TWST's fanservice is always tasteful and NEVER suggestive. (???)

+

Anonymous asked:

An amendment to my ask about dumb Pinterest/Reddit takes.  People think 18 years old dating 16 and 17 years olds is illegal cause the 18 years old is a legal adult and the others aren't

Anon, I am super late with my reply, sorry for that, but honestly this topic is unfortunately evergreen… I wanted to add both of these ask to our replies from yesterday since the topic is similar, but unfortunately ran out of time. I’ll reply to you properly now though~ Thank you so much for your ask!

I am trying my hardest not to start yelling about forced purity again and how it ruins everything for everyone lol At this point it just makes me sound like a broken record, so I’ll try to word it in a slightly different way this time: people (the type that you’ve talked about) reeeeally love using the “this is inappropriate” excuse to police others, and it always freaks me out just how similar it is to a certain other category of people. You know, the type to boils everything down to “I don’t like it, therefore it’s illegal or at least immoral”. I don’t like them using illegal and immoral interchangeably in general because ultimately it’s just them going “this shouldn’t exist because I say so”.

I genuinely think that all those people don’t give a shit about sexy art of the 1st and 2nd years’ characters, they don’t actually give a shit about the 17 y.o. characters being shipped with 18 y.o. characters either, this is just such a convenient excuse to use when attacking someone. It isn’t consistent at all, they ship whoever they want if they really want to, or try to find a way around their own logic.

You mentioned Malleus (that poor thing), and he is actually a great example of that: is he too old to be shipped with other characters? Is he too young to be shipped with Lilia or too old (or too young because “mentally!” he’s 17 or whatever the fuck that means) to be with Yuusona of someone who is over 20? Who knows and who cares, but with these folk you have to care, and don’t you dare to assume that maybe fae’s maturity (mental + sexual) doesn’t relate to their age in a way that human’s does. Or maybe it actually does, so it makes him a 170+ year old senior citizen in our eyes, and us literal 50 year old children in his eyes. God forbid we treat anything with a fun and fantasy approach, god forbid we use TWST as a dollhouse it was intended to be lol No one should give a fuck about any of this.

I don’t think minors should date 18 year olds if that makes them uncomfortable, I don’t think anyone should date anyone if they’re uncomfortable, but those of us who were dating as teenagers once know how weird this whole thing is and how for a lot of people this isn’t a big deal. This transition from minor to non-minor feels very “on paper”, that’s why a lot of teenagers joke around as they turn 18: yesterday I was a kid and today I am an adult. Does it make sense legally? Yes, it is a very important distinction, and a very important turning point. But mental maturity doesn’t work like that: if all of your friends are 17 and you turn 18, you are still of the same age group. Even if they are one school class younger. Katsu and I have a little less than 2 years of difference, but since I started going to school when I was 6, there was a period of time when Katsu was still in middle school and I was already a university student. We made tons of jokes about it back then, and this was exactly what it was: jokes. Because we knew that both of us are kids, and we were even younger kids when we first met and started dating. And this is just one example, tons of people have examples like that.

There are some aspects of life where putting a hard “NO” in terms of allowing people of certain age to interact with people of younger age is a good and very necessary thing, we have this minor/adult differentiation for a good reason. But character shipping just isn’t this kind of aspect: it doesn’t exist. All shipping is fiction. And I refuse to believe that the type of people that you mentioned don’t think so, the more I look at them, the more I genuinely think that they are intentionally lying to cause trouble. People can’t be this dumb (although after reading what you said about the Spelldrive thing I started to doubt that lol they really don’t know how sports clubs work huh).

Some of them also love to use made-up stuff in an argument lol Like people who think that Ortho is 8… or was it 6? Honestly, he ages down every single time the antis try to bring up how wrong it is to ship him with anyone.

Well, at least I can’t say anything about twst fanservice. Can’t argue with that, it is indeed very pure and almost nonexistent… especially this Riddle card <3

[imagitory]

Review: Inside Out 2 (SPOILERS)

Hey all! So earlier today my mum and I went to go see the sequel to one of my absolute favorite Pixar films, Inside Out! For a spoiler-free opinion, I'll just say that we both enjoyed it -- my mum enjoyed it more than I did, perhaps partially because she didn't remember the original as well as I did going in, but even if I didn't personally like this sequel as much as the first one, it's still a worthy continuation with very good humor and some great heart.

That being said, I think it's high time for some more spoilerific analysis. So if you're as anxious to get started as I am, read on!

The Good!

+Honestly, this film went to places that an Inside Out sequel was almost meant to go, just based on the ending of the last film. That puberty joke coming back and messing things up for Riley? Yeah, that checks out. Riley struggling with her emotions through her teen years? Sure! Makes for great drama! The emotions have to come to grips with the fact that change is inevitable? A worthwhile and appropriate lesson. This film's trajectory was a good pay-off for the set-up from the last film, so it never felt like this film's story was jarring or came out of left-field. It even makes sense for Riley to be so afraid of not having any friends and being alone in high school, considering that just two years prior (as seen in the first movie), she had to deal with such a traumatic move that resulted in her entire life in Minnesota being uprooted.

+The conflict between Riley's old and new emotions really does embody a lot of insecurities that teenagers go through! The thought of discarding our more immature, childish selves in favor of looking and acting more "adult" -- the disillusionment and diminishing of self-esteem -- the embarrassment, guilt and shame attached to your mistakes -- the intense desire to be accepted and praised -- the envy and longing to be more like "cool" older students -- the crippling self-doubt and anxiety -- the distant, sarcastic, sometimes even rude or angry shell you might form around yourself to try to hide your insecurities...I truly do think a lot of people will identify with Riley's struggles. My mum actually identified with Riley more than I did in this film, and this is when the first Inside Out became one of my top favorites in large part because how much I'd identified with Riley's struggle with depression! (I think this might be because my mum was both very sporty and a huge people-pleaser while growing up, while I -- oddly enough -- was kind of immune to peer pressure and was much more interested in being accepted for who I was, rather than in actively changing myself to try to "earn" acceptance from others.) I did, however, really feel Riley's perfectionistic tendencies, as well as her anxiety. Which leads us nicely into...

+The anxiety attack sequence. That scene, quite honestly, was a highlight of the entire film. It was a perfect concept that was both written and animated so evocatively, and Joy managing to break through enough to Anxiety to slow the panicked internal frenzy that made it so that Riley's emotions (and therefore Riley herself) couldn't see a thing was so well done.

+On that note, the concept of the threads of Riley's beliefs was great from beginning to end. I love that at the start of the film, Riley has a great sense of self-worth and a strong faith in the thought that she's a good person: something that, quite honestly, we all think until we're ideally forced to confront a more nuanced view of ourselves and the world around us. I like that when Anxiety started taking over (and planted only her memories in that underwater garden space), there's a shift in Riley that makes it so that she can only be happy if A, B, and C -- this idea that happiness is somehow both transactional and something one can only find in the outside world. It feels true to the emotion of Anxiety, and -- honestly -- to many real-life people. Self-love is hard to cultivate when one sees their flaws and shortcomings clearly, and finding happiness in one's own company as oneself can be even harder. The threads were well set-up by us seeing Joy and Sadness reaffirming their friendship from the last film by bringing their joint memory down to the garden, and the evolution of the garden and in Riley coming to grips with both the good and bad aspects of herself was fantastic. The part where all of the emotions embrace Riley's new sense of self, regardless of her flaws and shortcomings, was actually the most resonant moment of the film for me personally. I didn't cry, but it did make my own Joy and Sadness metaphorically hug each other.

+I'm really glad that Anger, Disgust, and Fear got to go on the psychological journey with Joy this time. I have some critiques on how it was done, and we'll get to that, but I am still glad that they got some more focus and time to shine, after Joy and Sadness got so much time to bond in the last movie. Fear pulling out that parachute was both funny and completely in-character, and I liked Anger "sticking it to the man" by swiping that pipe to shoot himself and the others up into the air and onto the top of the walls. It also was so very, very fitting for Joy and the others to trust Sadness to go back to Headquarters -- she would be the best equipped to help since she knows the manuals best, and she's also the emotion who'd be best able to get Riley help from outside should she need it, as proved from the last film. It really showcases how much stronger the core emotions' bond has become in the almost two years since the events from the first movie, especially the one between Joy and Sadness.

+There was some really, really good humor in this movie. The highlights for me were largely in the Deep Dark Secrets Vault -- I died laughing at Lance Slashblade multiple times. (Am I the only one who thought that that hooded Secret was totes Riley's gender identity? Because I'm sorry, I still love the headcanon that Riley is non-binary. For the record, yes, after further research into a post-credits scene I didn't stick around for, I found out I was wrong, but SHHH, I'm ignoring it because it's stupid.) The scene where Joy blew up at Anger, Fear, and Disgust was also both really funny and relatable for me -- I've been in that exact position before, and you're right, Joy: it is exhausting!!

The Ehhh...

+I know I'll probably be in the minority on this, but none of the new emotions grabbed me the way the originals did. They all had funny moments, sure, but Anxiety pissed me off way more than earned sympathy from me, at least until the end. I think it was the whole "we love Riley, really! All we want to do is change her into a completely different person" thing. It's really not that I think the new emotions don't care about Riley -- it's clear they do, and obviously they all learned their lesson -- but I guess I personally just don't ascribe to the idea that love is somehow conditional. If you love someone, you should love them as they are: there shouldn't be this expectation that the person you love (even platonically, as in this case) should change themselves for your sake. I know Anxiety in some ways could parallel Joy in the first movie, but in the first film, Joy sees the depth of her mistake through her adventures with Sadness and the growth she undergoes through it. She then more than proves how much she's willing to make things right in how hard she fights to get Sadness back to Riley's Headquarters. Anxiety -- just due to the characterization established for her -- doesn't really get the chance to redeem herself through passionate, proactive action in that same way. Instead she falls apart, Joy has to come to her rescue, and then all of the emotions come together to symbolically embrace Riley and calm her down. As for the others, as I said, they all had funny moments, but I didn't really latch onto any of them the way I did for Joy, Sadness, and Disgust in the first movie. Again, I want to emphasize that I don't think any of these new emotions are bad, by a long shot -- I just personally didn't like or resonate with them as much as the original five.

+The pacing in this film wasn't always that great. The journey Joy took with Fear, Disgust, and Anger seemed a lot less focused than Joy's with Sadness, largely because Joy didn't really get as much chance to bond with all three of the others the way she did with Sadness. In the original film, all of the obstacles and side adventures Sadness, Joy, and Bing Bong had to undergo on their way back to Headquarters had emotional relevance. They weren't just there for the sake of jokes: they also strengthened the bond between the characters and laid the groundwork for plot points later. Take the trip through Imagination Land in the first film, for example -- sure, the Riley's Imaginary Boyfriend machine was funny, but it was also reused later where Joy made a whole bunch of copies and then used them to both reach Sadness and launch herself and Sadness at Headquarters. But the trip to Imagination Land here was really more a tangent accenting Anxiety's unraveling and a meta reference to the state of modern animation studios, rather than something that lay the groundwork for a more emotional, clever payoff later-on. (It also seemed like it wasted time Joy and the others really needed to get back to Headquarters, as well as revealed to Anxiety that they'd escaped when it would've been more prudent for them to keep their heads down.) The "Sarchasm" was absolutely hilarious as a concept -- I laughed so bloody hard when it cropped up...but imagine how much better it would've been if Disgust had gotten the chance to show how to defeat it by simply not responding verbally to it? Perhaps Disgust's interest in make-up could've given her the ability to show off the power of a silent, condescending "Eyebrow Arch" in defanging sarcasm, which could've materialized as a bridge over the chasm or something. That could've put more ammunition behind the idea that Anxiety is wrong that Riley's old emotions are no longer necessary, rather than just an obstacle being thrown into the characters' way on a whim of the filmmakers to pad the run-time.

+This does actually lead to that one big critique I have about the focus on Anger, Fear, and Disgust -- where was my favorite green girl's chance to shine during this journey through the mind, huh?! Anger figuratively went "f*** it" and got the group up to the top of the wall. Fear saved himself and the others from the fall with his parachute. Joy's relentless optimism carried them all down their path. Where was Disgust using her individuality and named trait to help Riley? Disgust in particular is supposed to be there to "keep Riley from getting poisoned physically or socially" -- she has all the motive in the WORLD to be irritated at Anxiety and the other new emotions, considering she's responsible for Riley ditching her two best friends and poisoning her entire moral character. I do really wish Anger had been more righteously angry about this too, but at least he got some chance to take charge and get the spotlight by himself -- Disgust, in comparison to the other two emotions accompanying Joy, just got less focus.

+I guess this leads into really my only true hang-up with the film -- not that it was bad, but just that it didn't surprise me that much. Just like in the last film, Joy is trying to push away those things that aren't so pleasant supposedly for Riley's benefit. Just like in the last film, Joy has to come to grips with an emotion changing Riley in a way she doesn't like. Just like in the last one, Joy breaks down and exposes the vulnerable emotions she's been trying to hide -- in fact, this time, she does it twice, considering she loses it with Anger, Fear, and Disgust (in a very funny scene, but still) mid-way through and then has that more hopeless bit in the third act. Imagine how much stronger this film could've been if after Joy's first breakdown, she really does give up, or even if it had played into that terrible idea Joy has that "when you grow up, you feel less joy" and that (as a result) Joy is getting weaker or even is starting to disappear...and so, in response, Anger has to take charge of the mission, because he -- as the emotion who cares deeply about "what's fair" -- is furious about how Anxiety treated them and is trying to change Riley. Then we follow Anger as the emotion with a character arc. He's got that fire needed to defend who Riley is and prove that she is that good person she believed she was, but because he's Anger, he has difficulty moderating himself or staying focused. It's Disgust that has to help rein him in and show the power of silence in defeating the Sarchasm. It's Fear who has to save them from the Brainstorm. In this scenario, it'd be Anger rashly confronting Anxiety in that pillow fort in Imagination Land...and it would've been Anger who would've suffered burn-out, after all of his determined rage seemingly leads them out into the middle of nowhere with no way back to Headquarters. He would've cried tears of frustration and despair, feeling like a failure just as Riley did at the beginning of the film, and this would've been where Joy came to the realization that shoving down those negative memories doesn't diminish their impact. Then they would've ridden that avalanche back, and Anger -- seeing the state Anxiety was in -- would've realized that rage was not the way to help and insisted Joy help her, while he and the others try to fix Riley's Sense of Self. Helping Anxiety would've then also helped Joy too, and she would've rematerialized in full, just as bright as before: because Joy doesn't have to just be emblematic of childhood, but also in seeing the light after losing one's way. Sure, this trajectory would've in its own way mirrored aspects from the first film -- but at least we wouldn't have had Joy having to break down three times in two movies, and perhaps we could've given Joy and Anger's friendship the chance to shine the way Joy and Sadness's has.

+As the tiniest of nitpicks as well, I didn't think the score was that memorable, aside from the reuse of the original Bundle of Joy theme written for the first film.

I know my second more negative section has a lot of stuff written in it, but please, don't take this to mean I disliked the film! Truly, overall, I think it's quite good. I just didn't identify with Riley's struggles as much in this film as its predecessor, and I didn't think the script was quite as tightly written with set-ups and pay-offs either. Inside Out 2 is still a very enjoyable film, and I think just about any fan of Inside Out will have a fun time like my mum and I did! Even despite my minor critiques, my memory of this film is largely yellow.

Overall Grade: B+

[softguarnere]

Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 39 - Epilogue: Donadagohvi

Summary: She studies her husband’s face. It’s lined with age, but still as beautiful and as bright as the day she met him. A/N: Alright, y'all - we've made it! But before we get started, I've got some things I have to say. This fic was started during a very strange era. I hated what was going on in my life but didn't know how to fix any of it. Long story short, but I decided to run away one day, and ended up in Toccoa. While standing in the military museum there, I started thinking about Deborah Sampson (a childhood hero of mine), and wondered what would happen if a story like hers happened during WW2 - specifically, if she was a paratrooper. Thus, Zenie appeared in my brain, and this epilogue wrote itself in my mind as I went through the museum. I was never sure if I would share this fic until the second that I hit "post." Zenie was just a way for me to blow off steam, to escape - to fulfill my desire to be someone else for a bit. (Coincidentally, all themes throughout the fic.) I didn't know how people would respond to this story, or to this character, and I only ever had the courage to start uploading chapters because of friends like @latibvles and @liebgotts-lovergirl who showed enthusiasm for it. So I couldn't upload this chapter without a massive sgi (thank you) to them, as well as to everyone else who has read this fic and been so kind to it, and to me. Thank you for welcoming me into this fandom. Thank you for allowing me to share the Cherokee language with you. Thank you for all the support you've given me for both my writing, and as friends. Whether you knew it or not, all that kindness came at a time when I really needed it, and I appreciate you all. Without further ado, here's the last laglam update, in which the fic's title finally makes sense. Much love 💖 Warnings: language, alcohol Taglist: @latibvles @liebgotts-lovergirl @lady-cheeky @dcyllom @mads-weasley @ithinkabouttzu @mrs-murder-daddy @lieutenant-speirs

Eugene looks just the same as he did when Zenie first met him. So do all the other men on this side of the reunion. For her part, she also looks the way she did when she first met all of them – albeit like a girl rather than like a man. For now, her hair is long, and her chest unbound.

No one seems to have figured out why they all look young again, and it has only been mentioned in passing during the reunions. There are better things to do, like visit with those they can, and pass between the ones they left behind, feeling their hearts swell with love as they watch them laugh, watch them remember – watch them live.

Another thing that no one has figured out is why they seem able to come back to this world at certain times. David Webster says he once read that the veil between their worlds thins during certain times of the year, and that maybe this is true of the Easy Company reunions. Zenie, however, likes to believe that it’s the love of the people still living who allow them to come back. All that love with nowhere to go. Love so strong that remembering the people you felt it for brings them back.

No time to wonder now, though. Gene is already smiling at her in greeting.

“Hello again,” he greets as she joins him.

“Gene,” she teases him with an affectionate poke to his ribs. “You haven’t aged a day since I met you in forty-two!”

“Eh, I don’t know about that, Tommy Boy,” Luz’s confident drawl digresses as the radioman swaggers up beside her. “You look a little taller. What, did you finally hit puberty or something?”

Zenie rolls her eyes, but there’s no malice to it. She did, after all, keep him in the dark about her secret until her very last day in Europe. Instead of leading him on, she asks, “How does everyone look?”

“Us? The same as ever. Them? – “ Luz gestures towards the reunion that can’t see them. “ – Well, I guess they’re aging with grace.”

“Have you seen – “

“Bill and Babe are at the bar, as per usual. And your darling husband is somewhere around the middle.”

Zenie takes a step forward before turning quickly to face her friends. “Do y’all mind if I . . . ?”

Gene smiles. “Go ahead. That’s why we’re here.”

Grateful, Zenie takes off through the crowd. Visiting her friends like this is something she always looks forward to, but visiting those she left behind is a rarer treat, and she would like to check up on them. Especially Shifty. 

Bill and Babe – to no one’s surprise – are the easiest to find. They’ve got the bartender in stitches with their jokes, and their own accented guffaws are like a lighthouse cutting through the crowd that makes them easy to navigate towards.

“Siyo, boys!” Though they can’t see or hear her, Zenie takes a seat beside them at the bar. “What’s new with y’all?”  

“They’re drinking everyone under the table, as usual,” a familiar voice beside her announces as none other than Joe Toye takes a seat beside her. His expression is just as relaxed and confident as when they were young, but as he watches their living friends, something like longing flickers behind his eyes. “Too bad that we can’t show them who the real champs are anymore.”

“At least we can visit them.”

Joe nods, smiling sadly. “You made your rounds yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, we got time,” her friend assures her. They have nothing but time, actually. And they use it to sit with their friends, laughing along with their jokes and making their own, even though Bill and Babe can’t hear them.

As their jokes turn to remembrances, Zenie finds herself swept up in Babe’s retelling of the time she chucked an apple at Cobb’s head back in Holland. She barely remembers the scene, able to recall only a flash of anger and a split-second decision. Babe’s version is far better – he paints her out to be some sort of knight in shining armor coming to defend the honor of her friends.

Bill shakes his head and chuckles into his drink. “Goddamn. Zee sure could make a scene.”

“You weren’t even there when her secret got out,” Babe notes. “Now that was a scene!”

“No one ever brings it up,” Bill marvels, his eyes roaming over the crowd, searching for something. “You would think everyone would talk about it all the time. I mean – shit! A woman disguised herself as a man and made it from Toccoa to the bitter end before she got found out, and no one at the reunions brings it up.”

Zenie can’t help but smile at that. It’s true – her secret got out, she had to leave in a state of semi-disgrace, but at the Easy reunions, she was usually only acknowledged as Shifty’s wife. Sure, every now and then someone would tell a funny story about Sergeant Driver before throwing a knowing wink in her direction, but after all this time, it’s like they’re still keeping her secret for her. For her own part, she never brings up her service, except to mention in passing that she met her husband during the war. Even her own children seem to be under the impression that she must have been a nurse or a WAC, using that explanation to fill in the story’s blanks. Zenie never confirmed or denied their suspicions.

“Wish she were here,” Babe sighs. He orders another round of drinks, three this time, before placing one in front of the seemingly empty bar stool beside him – unknowingly, right in front of Zenie. He raises his own glass as he offers the last one to Bill. “To Zenie.”

Bill clinks his glass against Babe’s in a toast. “To Zenie.”

“To the best friends I ever had,” Zenie adds. During her last reunion – and even during the last year or so of her life – she could sometimes swear that she could feel a presence that she couldn’t explain. An unshakable feeling that those she loved who were already gone were somehow watching her would wash over her, though she could never explain why she felt that way. Now, she wonders if her friends feel that way about her. Just in case they do, she channels all her love into those words, hoping and praying that they can feel it.

As if on cue, the bittersweet moment ends when a woman with sleek, dark hair approaches the bar, smiling. “Uncle Babe! Are you ready?”

“Luna.” Zenie watches as her daughter throws an arm around each of the men at the bar, her smile just as bright as her father’s, outshining the sun itself.

“The real question is, are you?” Bill teases his goddaughter, cocking an eyebrow. “Don’t forget, kid, that your uncle is a champion jitterbug dancer.”

Luna sizes up the man in question. “Well, I’ve been practicing.”

“Don’t worry about her.” Babe takes one last sip of his drink and waves off Bill’s concerns. “Her mom could have been a champ, too. It’s in her genes; she’ll be fine.”

“The DJ said it’ll be the next song . . .” Luna begins explaining as she hooks her arm through her uncle’s and leads him towards the small dance floor.

Bill watches them go, chuckling to himself. “Real firecracker.” He glances at the drink set out in honor of Zenie. “God, I wish you were here, little brother. It’s not the same without you.”

“I am,” Zenie assures him. She’s only been gone for two years, but things have changed. That might have scared her once. Not anymore. “I have to go find Shifty. You don’t mind, do you?”

Bill doesn’t answer, of course, but it’s polite to ask all the same. Granny didn’t teach her to mind her manners for nothing.

Zenie weaves her way through the crowd of both the living and the dead. She greets several people, stops to exchange a handshake and a kind word, and sends a nod to those who she catches lurking at the edges of the room – people like Liebgott and Captain Speirs, who only show up in the margins of the reunions, watching, but never joining in. She needs to thank those two specifically at some point. But it’s like Joe said – they’ve got time.

As Luz promised, Shifty is seated at a table in the middle of the room. Their sons, Wayne and Willie, sit on either side of him, laughing along with some story that he, McClung, and Popeye are in the middle of telling. Zenie finds a space to stand behind her husband, being as present as she can. She places one hand on Wayne’s shoulder, and the other on Shifty’s.

At the moment of contact, Shifty’s posture stiffens, and his head turns slightly. Zenie freezes, like she’s just disrupted something. Has she? Can he feel her here?

Shifty only listens to the story being told halfheartedly now. He smiles and laughs in all the right places, but it’s obvious that he’s distracted. These reunions are supposed to be fun. Sure, they can get a little emotional at times, but she doesn’t want her husband missing out on her account. He’s still got a life to live. He needs to be in the present moment and enjoy it.

Zenie bends slightly so that she’s close to Shifty’s ear. She doubts anyone else at the table knows that she’s here, but she wants this to be a private moment for the two of them.

“Shifty,” she whispers. “I’m here. I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay.” She has to pause for a moment to think about what she wants to say. It’s one thing to plan what you’re going to tell somebody, and another thing entirely to deliver the message. Sometimes things get lost in translation. She learned that during their break back in the war.

She studies her husband’s face. It’s lined with age, but still as beautiful and as bright as the day she met him. God, she misses him. She misses all of them.

“The boys look well,” she continues, looking between their sons. “I hope they’re taking care of you for me. They’ve always adored you.” She pats Shifty’s shoulder. She shouldn’t take up his attention too much longer. “Take your time. Enjoy it. I’ll be waiting for you, okay? I’ll see you soon, Shifty.”

Not sure if it will work, she plants a kiss on his cheek. When she pulls away, she watches as Shifty’s hand comes up to touch the place where they made contact. Maybe he really can feel her here.

“Gvgeyui,” Zenie says. I love you.

Gene is waiting at the edge of the crowd when she finds him again.

“How’d it go?” He asks.

Zenie nods. “Good. You?”

“Good.” Gene’s dark eyes flick over the crowd. “It’s nice we get to do this.”

It is nice. Bittersweet, mostly, but it’s good to see their loved ones again, even for a short time before they have to go back. But returning isn’t bad, either. The weather is always warm. And there are people she loves waiting for her there.

In fact, she should get going for exactly that reason. Granny wants to dig ramps soon, and Mama informed her that there would be a pie waiting upon her return. No matter which side of the gauzy veil she’s on, there is always someone waiting for her, and always a place that she belongs.

For strength, Zenie takes Gene’s hand and gives it a squeeze. He returns the gesture, and they begin to walk away from the crowd. But before they go, Zenie can’t help but glance back at Easy Company one last time. Her eyes, as always, land on Shifty. She’ll see him again. She’ll see them all again, in one way or another.

“Until we meet again,” Zenie informs them all, whether they can hear her or not. “Donadagohvi.”

[tangledinink]

Question about your Teenage Mutant What Now AU!

Has Leo always just been in puberty blockers since forever? Because I'm assuming he never had a period in his life because, well, reptiles menstruation is laying eggs

Kinda! I've actually thought about this a lot because I had the same question and went back and forth on it for a while. tldr; Leo has been on puberty blockers for the past three+ years and has never had a full menstrual cycle, but he does menstruate rather than lay eggs, at least when he's under the effect of his bracelet. Further details abt Leo's trans experience and how the cloaking crystals work below!

Leo has been on puberty blockers since he turned twelve and went on them before he had his first period. As we've established, Yoshi just kind of discovered that Leo was afab when he put the cloaking bracelets on them for the first time and was like "fuck it I don't have the time to unpack this right now you're Leo and you're my son whatever lesgo," and that was just kinda that and everyone involved was always just down with Leo being Leo. Leo certainly never had a problem with it, and he never felt any desire to switch over to being a girl and would get pretty upset if anyone (such as teachers or other parents) suggested he may be female. As such, Yoshi has always just treated Leo as his son and is more than willing to defend him from anyone who ever questioned his identity. His brothers, likewise, have always been very defensive of Leo and quite frankly were usually confused as children if anyone tried to say Leo was their sister. 'Cause??? Like??? Literally no he's not??? He's always been our brother???

When Leo was around eleven Yoshi did sit him down to actually talk to him about it in-depth, like, 'I love you no matter what and I support your choices but we've never actually for-real talked about this and I wanna make sure this is something that you want and not just something that you went along with,' (Leo, of course, at that point doesn't realize WHY he 'came out as trans' when he was five, he just kind of figures that he must have made the decision to start presenting as masc and go by 'Leo' when he was very little and doesn't remember it now,) as well as discuss the option of puberty blockers with him and ask if that's something he wants. And Leo is 1000% like. YES, I'm sure I'm a boy and YES I want to go on puberty blockers so very much I've been dreading the concept of puberty for months now pleeeesssase let's do that. So... they do, and that's that!

(And Yoshi would have gone along with whatever Leo said, but internally he's like, OH THANK GOD, because he's also like ?!?! How tf would turtle puberty translate?! Would the cloaking crystals cover that??? Surely my son wouldn't lay FUCKING EGGS but holy shit what if he did and would I be morally obligated to warn him just in case--!?!)

I do think that the cloaking crystals cover menstruation, however. In this AU, the cloaking crystals (at least the ones the Hamatos have) do provide an active transforming effect rather than just a 'disguise.' I don't think it could really work otherwise! It's definitely not a 100% transformative effect, though, and their true biology still plays a major influence on them. (ie they get cold easily! They swim really well and can hold their breath for a long time! They're naturally more athletically inclined than most other kids and a lot hardier! etc. etc. etc.) but I don't think it would leave gaps as big as to let them lay eggs or anything like that, just like it doesn't allow them to shed their skin or to go into full brumation. It's also worth noting that they're turtle mutants, but they're not full turtles. They're half-human, too! So who's to say if Leo would lay eggs even if didn't have the cloaking crystals or the puberty blockers? He does end up having one little baby period right after he goes on blockers, which is not super uncommon, and is very dramatic about it, but April big-sisters him through it and he hasn't had any since. In the fic he is currently in the process of starting testosterone in the near future, which is something that will be discussed/explored in later chapters!

[boogiewrites]

Repentance

Eddie Munson x f!reader (no use of y/n) - best friends to enemies to lovers

She was a hot, cheerleading, mean popular girl. He was a rebellious, guitar-shredding "freak" boy. Could I make it any more obvious?

Reader gave up her former life to become popular but it turns out it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. By her senior year, she’s grown weary of being someone she’s not and stands up for herself one too many times before the cutthroat members of Hawkins royalty decide to ruin her reputation. With no one left who knows the real her, she’s left to reach out to her former best friend, Eddie Munson. We follow her and Eddie through key moments in their best friends to enemies to lovers' journey ending with a reconciliation that shows her what kind of love she's been missing out on.

Contains: Sex: P in V, fingering, oral sex (m receiving). Use of "good girl".

CW Continued: Insinuation of sexual assault. Mentions of abuse by grabbing/shoving and leaving bruises. Emotional manipulation. Bullying. Mention of a gay slur painted on Eddie’s locker. Telling of bad memories related to sex. Canon insults and arguments. Drinking, smoking, partying. Hurt/Comfort. Confessions. Everyone is of age by the time anything sexual happens. Mentions of underage Eddie being attracted to the underage reader but nothing sexual happens. Use of the word slut as an insult.

“One day I’m gonna be the prettiest, most popular girl in school, you’ll see!” you shouted proudly, full of optimism at the age of 12 to your best friend.

“Uh-huh, sure.” he nodded, rolling his eyes with a crooked smile.

“I am!”

“People like us don’t get popular.” he sighed, the defeat of 2 more years of life experience, a teenager in middle school who was getting even more life lessons than those he’d already learned the hard way at a young age.

“Well…” you pouted your lips and sunk back in thought. “Can I still be the prettiest?” you perked up with newfound hope.

“Sure.” he chuckled to himself. “You can be the prettiest.”

Now, 6 years later you’d achieved that bold goal. But you hadn’t… couldn’t have known what it was going to cost you. The biggest hurt and the first was losing your best friend. The very same boy that had told you you could do it (at least half of it anyway) In hindsight, you wish you’d listened.

The summer you were 13, one to live in infamy where puberty hit you like an 18-wheeler and suddenly you’d gone from awkward kid to a woman. You weren’t even the first to notice. It was the male attention that told you you were no longer decent in your second-hand children's clothes. You laughed awkwardly at first when the grown men said sly things about you growing up. But then boys your age started saying things. And that didn’t feel as nerve-wracking or gross. You’d never had attention like this before from guys. Suddenly they said soft, sweet words to you in private, promising you things if you cooperated. You saw your chance to become that idealized version of yourself. And you grabbed it by the horns.

“I said I’m going to Skull Rock with Jason.” you repeated, your then still, soon to be no longer best friend gawked with a slack face at your words repeated a second time.

“I heard you the first time.” he gritted out between clenched teeth.

“Aren’t you going to say anything? You’re just…sitting there glaring at me.”

“Oh, there’s PLENTY I want to say. But I don’t know if I should.” he sat back and crossed his arms, looking away and shaking his head.

“I’d rather you talk than stare at me with your mouth open like a frog.” you grumped, crossing your arms to mimic the defensiveness you felt. You knew he’d have something to say about it. He always did. He’d been bitching about how much time you were spending with the “wrong” people all summer. He was feeling left behind and hurt. Abandonment issues are a-plenty being triggered. Confusing growing feelings for you he tried to ignore as you flaunted your new body and attitude. He was only a 15-year-old boy with uncontrollable hormones, after all, things were bound to get ugly one way or another.

“Fine.” he slapped his hands to his thighs and shot up to his feet, hormone-fueled anger making his face red. “It’s a bad idea. It’s stupid.” he chopped his hands together to drive his point home. He moved across the room to talk directly to your shocked face. “I’m only saying this because I care about you… but this isn’t going to end well.” he put his hands on your shoulders. “You’re going to get used and then thrown away and you’re gonna come crying back to me to pick up the pieces and I’ll be here to tell you I fucking told you so. These are not good people. They’re selfish and greedy and overall just assholes! I’d say I don’t get why you want to hang out with them, but I do, unfortunately. The shiny promise of power and popularity is being dangled right in front of you and you want it so bad you’re willing to do anything for it. I know you. I know why you’re doing it. And I know that it’s going to end badly. You’re going to get your heart broken, or worse because these guys they…” he took a deep breath and rubbed his face. “They do things to girls. They think you owe them something. Do you get what I’m saying? And you’re a new shiny toy and then when something else comes along, shiny and new just like you are now, they’re gonna throw you away and forget you ever existed.” he stopped with a heaving chest, hands to his sides exasperated. His curls bounce as his chest rose and fell, starting to grow past his ears now, part of his effort to cultivate a hard persona to ward himself against the people he was trying to warn you about.

“They have been nothing but nice to me! They compliment me all the time, they give me things! They listen to me when I talk. I don’t get why you’re being so negative.” you pushed back with a snaking neck.

“You’re so naive.” he groaned and ran a hand through his hair.

“I am not!” you shouted back with balled fists.

“You’re young, sweetheart. You haven’t been around these guys like I have. I’m in high school, I see the shit they do. They’re terrible. I don’t tell you because I didn’t want you to be scared to go into high school.”

“You’re jealous aren’t you?” you hissed smugly and his face grew red again.

“Jealous?” his armor of crossed arms appeared again, back straighten in full defense mode.

“Yeah! Are you mad because you want to go to Skull Rock with me?”

“I have BEEN to Skull Rock with you before! God! I’m not jealous!” His voice cracked and broke from puberty and the strain of stress. “I’m telling you this because I’m your friend and I care about you okay? People, who only tell you what you want to hear? Those are the liars and they only want something from you. People who are willing to tell you what you don’t want to hear? Those are your real friends. Not those people.” He pointed with a shakey arm to back up his words.

“So now anyone nice is a liar? All the compliments they’ve said are lies? That sounds like you’re being a jerk!”

“You’re twisting my words! Ugh!”

“That’s what you said!” You squeak back with a stomped foot.

“Shut up and listen to what I’m saying and take it in for a goddamn minute instead of trying to fight me for no reason!” He shouted.

“I’m not! You’re being mean for no reason!”

“I’m NOT being mean I’m being a good friend and you aren’t listening to me because you don’t want your bubble burst about these assholes. But that’s what they are!”

“So what if they are? Maybe they’re nice to me because I’m nice.”

“They’re being nice because you got tits!” He finally screamed. “They want to fuck you! That’s WHY they’re nice. They don’t give a shit about you!”

You stood gawking and red-faced. Hurt, flustered, and defensive at his bold claims.

“They do care.” Your bottom lip blubbered as he rubbed his face hard letting out a feral groan.

“They don’t, hun. That’s what I’m saying.” He exhaled noisily.

“But…“ you gulped. “They asked me to hang out with their friends. They want me to be a part of their group. I could be popular Eddie!”

“I don’t know why you’d want to. Those people are evil.”

“They’re not evil. You’re so dramatic. I think you’re jealous I’m getting in with the popular kids and you’re still a loser.” It came out before you had the chance to stop it. You even clamped your hands over your mouth as if you might be able to take it back.

Eddie stood shocked. Still. His brows creased and lids fluttered under his frizzy bangs.

“There it is.” He nodded and sucked his teeth. “You’re already one of them.” He turned and plopped down on the couch. “The truth always comes out somehow.” He flopped his arms, now exhausted.

“I didn’t mean-“

“No, you did.” He nodded fast and glared your way. “I see where you stand now. Go get chewed up and spit out by them. Don’t come running crying to me and my loser ass when it happens.”

“Eddie I-“

“Get out.” He pointed at the door with a stone face. “You’ve already made your choice. It’s them.”

He’d always been wise beyond his years when it came to understanding people. You should’ve listened.

You were well into your quest of being the queen bee now. You were composed, and a stone-cold bitch. And as much as Eddie hated to admit it, you were also drop-dead gorgeous. At almost 15 you looked confident and much older in the way you dressed and carried yourself. It was all intentional. You looked like you walked off a sitcom set of any popular show, always trendy and groomed to an impossibly high standard. You looked like a movie star he thought as he watched you get out of the car dropping you off. Eddie was sitting on his porch, it was a hot summer night and he couldn’t sleep. He plucked away at the guitar in his lap as he watched you wave and stand poised until the car was well out of sight. Then it was eerie as if you morphed into someone else. You dug through your purse and groaned. Your attention snapped to him as his lighter lit up the darkness around him.

“Eddie?” You asked, still graceful across gravel even in heels.

“Who’s askin’?” That was his smart-ass reply.

“It is you!” He visually recoiled at the perky response. You giggled and shuffled across the grass around his wooden patio. You stood smiling, looking him over.

“It’s me.” He waved a hand to break your stare.

“Could I bum one of those?”

“You smoke?”

“Only when I’m alone. Have to handle the stress somehow!” You laughed but seemed too sad for him to share in.

“You shouldn’t, it’s a bad habit.” He muttered with the cigarette between his lips.

“But you're doing it ya goob.” You laughed and slapped his arm. He was so confused. You hadn’t spoken to him in what felt like decades. You’d ignored him, insulted him, and stood back as others ostracized him. You were enemies. Right?

“I know.” He handed you the cylinder. You took it from him and perched it between your painted lips then pat your body as if you might find a lighter.

“You mind?” You scoot closer. He sighed and handed you his lighter, a lackluster extended palm so you’d have to work for it but to his surprise you leaned forward, putting the tip of yours to his and sucking in. He wondered where the hell you learned that. He’s hit with an unwanted sadness that he no longer knew everything about you. “Thanks, babe.” You grinned and stood with a popped-out hip.

“Babe?” He snorted in amusement.

“I call people babe when they’re babes.” You say as if it’s the most casual observation.

“You’re calling me a babe?”

“I call them like I see them, Eddie.” You winked and giggled, fearlessly waking up the steps to sit next to him. Your bare thigh against his cut-off shorts.

“Are you okay? Ohhh you’re drunk aren’t you?” A standard assumption.

“I am not drunk actually!” You laughed. “I was earlier but then I got some stuff from Chris.”

“Stuff?”

“Pills.” You nodded enthusiastically. “And let me tell you. This is some gooood shit. You should sell it, you'd make a killing.”

“You take pills now?”

“I do a lot of things now that I didn’t before Eddie.” You smirk and give him the up and down and he quickly turned his head away to hide his blush.

“What kind of pills were they?”

“I don’t even know. I just wanted to not be so fuckin’ sad on my birthday.” The words don’t only hurt Eddie to hear. He didn’t know why you were being so honest.

“You take random pills? That’s not safe.”

“He got them from his friend. They’re like psych drugs. Some letters or something. She got them when she was in the looney bin. But she’s so fucking cool. Oh my god, you’d love her!” You put your hand on his arm like you were old friends again.

“I like my women to not give random drugs to people.”

“Bit hypocritical for a dealer to say.” You smirked.

“I know what I give my customers and I explain- hey I don’t have to justify myself to you.”

“So touchy.” You tease and wiggle your shoulders.

“A lot like you tonight. Which is why I knew you had to be on drugs.”

You snorted out a laugh. “You always were funny.” You said with a hum. “I miss being around funny people.” You sigh. “I mean that girl was funny tonight. And so cool. She was in a band. And she was so hot oh my god I wanted to die. I was so jealous. I could never be that sexy and cool.”

You never showed weakness. You’re admitting to insecurity openly to him now? Must’ve been a truth serum they gave you.

“What band?”

“She’s not from around here.”

“Oh.” He looked away as you boldly took in his face. “I mean you used to be cool.”

“Wasn’t sexy though.” You laughed.

“Well no, you were a kid.” He laughed

“What about now?” You ask with a raise of your chin. He hesitated. “Am I sexy now?” Eddie’s mouth stuttered.

“You uh- you’re… ya know…”

“You’re sexy you know.” You added quietly, leaning into him.

“You’re full of shit” he blurted out and you threw your head back in a laugh.

“So humble.” You reached over to push his curls back, your smile looking so genuine it made his chest hurt. “I always thought you were pretty.” You shrugged.

“Why are you saying this?” He blurted out.

“Because I won’t when I’m sober,” you answered quickly and so nonchalantly. “I’m hoping I won’t remember this so I won’t be embarrassed. Because you’re cool and hot now and I can’t be your friend and it fucking sucks. Also can’t be more than your friend.” You quietly added the last part.

“Would you want to be?”

“Would you?” You shot back.

“Before you walked out I thought maybe-“ he started but then shook his head in resignation.

“I thought maybe too.” You nodded. “I miss how nice you were to me.”

“I miss how nice you were to me.”

“I do too.” You paused. “This sucks.” you groaned.

“What does?“

“Everything.” You sigh and hang your head, arms flapping in a small expression of the big feeling of despair.

“I thought this was what you wanted?” he couldn’t help but sound judgemental, still defensive, unsure of the validity of the truths you were telling him.

“So did I.” you groan and throw your head back, posture slumped, like you didn’t care what you looked like. You weren’t performing for once. He was getting a glimpse at the real you. And you hadn’t changed all that much. It was heartbreaking and comforting at the same time. “But I can’t tell you you were right. Because of course, I can’t. But you already know you are so-!” You hopped off the porch in exclamation and landed on your feet somehow, he had flinched and reached out to catch you, hands at your waist as you stumbled only slightly, moving in his direction from the suggestion of his grip. There was a moment, you were in the shadow, backlit by the street lamps dotted across the trailer park. Your hands to his wrists, bent forward in front of him where you connected. And dammit he was still hopeful enough to forget you were high as a kite and might mean it. Your face was softer than it had been, fuller and older. So was the body he felt under his hands. He tried to jerk them away, his eyes rapidly blinking to pull him away from the far too-intimate stare. But your hands kept him on you, he gave you the biggest cow-eyed look full of questions as you didn’t let his hands off you. He called your name in question, you still looking over his face, trying to remember what he looked like up close because you didn’t know if you’d ever get this close again. “Things could’ve been so different.” he barely heard your whisper as your face finally fell, reality creeping back in. You let his wrists go and stepped backward, less confident this time. Your hands gathered in front of you to pick at your nails, looking at the ground with the shining promise of tears in them.

“What could’ve been?” he asked, eyes borderline frantic. You took another step backward.

“Doesn’t matter.” you shook your head and looked away, wiping your cheek.

“Sure it does.” he tried to pull you back in. Maybe he could get the closure he needed while you were high. It wasn’t the most moral thing he’d ever done but he wasn’t hurting anyone.

“Not anymore it doesn’t.” you run your hands through your hair and let out a raspberry of a sigh. “Ugh.” you looked up at the sky for a moment. “Fuck.” you covered your face in your hands and turned away from him, walking back toward your trailer.

“Hey! Are you gonna be okay?” he stood, ready to chase after you. You raised a hand and waved it.

“Don’t worry about me.” you shouted, feet moving faster but your tone made him do the opposite. “I can take care of myself.” you lied before disappearing into your home.

Eddie was left with the uncomfortable burden of knowing how you might feel. Which wasn’t even clear. The fact that there was any feeling there was enough for him to let it stew in his head. Maybe you were just wasted and blabbing. He shouldn’t put so much weight on something a girl high on pills said. But that didn’t stop it from eating away at him.

A few terrible interactions went down between you as you navigated high school and the cut throat social jungle it was. You’d done what you sought out to do. You’d made your way in. You’d lost yourself in the process making you do awful things to good people to keep your place among the royals of Hawkins high.

Then came a test of loyalty. After defending Eddie during a round of shit talking everyone became suspicious of whose side you were really on. Had you truly left your old life behind? So they had you do something that broke your heart. You wrote a note to Eddie and slipped it in his locker. You’d been told what to say and what to do. The way you did it with laughter and smiles churned your insides. He showed up to the diner as instructed under the guise of a romantic reconciliation. You walked in with another guy. Even if it wasn’t you that delivered the belittling words you still blew your bubble gum and smirked. You put on your show. You enabled it. That was just as bad in his eyes.

“You really thought someone like her would want to be with a freak like you?” They laughed.

Eddie was calm. He’d been suspicious all along. But he played along for that one tiny sliver of hope you weren't completely lost to him. That the night over the summer hadn’t been a lie.

He hid, sitting in the back of his van smoking a cigarette in a different parking lot to contemplate and decompress alone. He could see the back of the diner from there. He watched you walk out the front laughing alone and finishing a conversation. As you rounded the side and got out of sight your entire being shifted. You slouched, hands through your hair before digging a cigarette out of your purse and failing to light it with how much you were shaking. He watched as you started to cry. That was the turning point for you. Part of you died that you could never recover that day.

But he did nothing. He wasn’t even mad. Just disappointed knowing you had made your choice clear. And it wasn’t him.

The next time Eddie saw you cry he was more directly involved. He’d inadvertently started a rather nasty rumor about you. He'd made an off-color remark about your being a revolving door for the basketball team and through the rumor mill it ran. You leaned into it, you couldn’t let anyone see you upset, you had to be untouchable. You slang insults back all day and laughed them off but when you were alone the tears came. You left your house to cry by the trailer park dumpster. Not a usual place for such an activity but you didn’t want your mother asking questions. So at night, you skipped out to smoke and let it out against a graffitied cement block wall.

Eddie found you. On accident. Again. You stood up as he tossed his bag into the dumpster and wiped your face. He’d heard you, the street lamp showing enough to see your splotched face and swollen eyes.

“What?” You barked at him with a creased brow.

“I didn’t say anything.” He answered monotone.

“Odd that now you have nothing to say when you’ve been telling people I let the entire basketball team fuck me.” You spat out with nothing but venom.

“I didn’t say that.” Another one-note response.

“I supposed everyone else is lying about hearing it from you then?”

“Sweetheart I don’t talk to enough people to spread a fucking rumor and I sure as shit don’t care about you enough to try.” He saw the hurt then. It was personal. There was a thing of guilt with his words. But he was so overcome with defensiveness at the sight of you that now it was a hard habit to break. ”Maybe if you didn’t hang out with such shitty people and do shitty things to innocent people, rumors wouldn't spread about you. Seems like you deserve it to me.” He gave a half-formed shrugged and left you there. He didn’t hear you go back inside to cry the hardest you had in years.

Time passed and you didn’t speak at all. Not when he sold at parties, not when you crossed paths inside or outside of school. It was as if you were strangers for years. The distance between you felt unpassable. Too much damage left you both vulnerable to quickly assume the worst from the other. So misunderstandings happened.

It was the week of the school dance and you were on the planning committee. You’d gotten out of class to help decorate and had been painting banners all day. You were proud of your work but covered in stains from the paint. So when Eddie backtracked after he passed you in the hallway and then reached out to grab your arm roughly, you were startled. Not something that anyone else could’ve made you do.

“You? Are you fucking serious?” His voice was deeper now than the last time you’d heard it. His face was longer, more angular with light stubble on his cheeks. His hair was the longest it had ever been. The fleeting thought of how it suited him and how he more closely resembled a man than a boy now was plucked away when he shoved your shoulder for your lack of response.

“Sorry- I mean- what do you want?” You changed your real tone to the mask of cold bitch you wore.

“You’re the one that painted my fucking locker?”

“Your-? I was making banners.”

“Uh huh sure.” He rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. “Funny I don’t see any banners but I do see fag spray painted on my locker.” He saw the flinch. He would swear it later but his red angry vision made him doubt it. “In that shade of paint all over your fucking hands. You’d think you weren't that stupid.”

“I wouldn’t-“ your voice was quiet, too quiet for you. Your eyes shifted to see who was watching, leaning in a little closer to his face as if it might show him you were serious.

“Ha! You wouldn’t?” He laughed in your face, intruding on your personal space and looking you over with disdain.

“I didn’t.” You state with more backbone. “I made banners for the dance. I didn’t paint your locker. But I think asshole would’ve been more appropriate.” You sneered and stomped away, being sure to clip his shoulder with yours as you passed.

You walked by his locker, it was already painted over sloppily by the maintenance man. You could see the outline vaguely. You didn’t know who did it. Still don’t. But it hurt you to know he thought you’d be capable of it.

Then it was Eddie’s turn to be misunderstood. Something he found himself on the wrong side of more often than not. He’d had to watch you do your routine in your cheer uniform during the pep rally that morning. It infuriated him how attractive he thought you were. You had your makeup and hair fully done. Anytime you were in public he saw you look immaculate. But the bow and glitter were really doing it for him for some reason. He was pondering how cheer uniforms were even allowed with the flashes of cheek and their tailor-made fits to make you look as flawless as possible. You land with a smile into a split, chest heaving before the team collectively broke into giggles at the cheers and praise from the crowd. You were happy in that moment. He knew your real smile. The one that crooked to the right and showed a chip in your tooth you’d gotten from a rock when running after a raccoon. He saw a flash of that awkward kid and caught himself in a painful loop of nostalgia that morning. So the fact that he was staring at you bent over the table across from him wasn’t totally his fault. You’d made him think about you all morning already.

“God, she’s hot.” He blinked out of his trance at his friend's words.

“She’s such a bitch though.” Eddie grinned to himself, looking down as the guys talked about you, finally diverting his attention.

“It’s like the hottest ones are bitches. It’s like a rule of the universe or something.”

“I kinda like it when they’re mean.” A laugh moved through the small group of teen boys.

“Not the kind of mean cheerleaders are. Degrading but outside the bedroom is not the same.”

“I’d like to be mean to her.”

“That’s better. Now you’re talking.”

“Teach her a lesson. Make her shut the hell up. Man, that sounds like heaven.”

“Or hell.”

“Either way.” Eddie finally chimed in, a deep breath as he stood and lifted his lunch tray. “Doesn’t really matter because, at the end of the day, none of us has a snowball's chance in hell with any of them.” He nodded as if he was proud of the fact.

“Don’t be such a bummer dude.”

“Keeping it honest as always.”

“I’ve got to keep you guys with your feet on the ground. That’s my job. To be a fuckin buzzkill. Shit job but-“ he shrugged and turned, a smirk on his face and eyes on his friends as he stepped out. “Someone’s gotta-“

The clatter of silverware and a gross smush of food into tight polyester and your chest kept him from finishing his sentence.

“Shit.” He whispered, face winced as he was confronted with you, barely a foot away and looking as angry as he’d ever seen you.

“Seriously?” You shouted, gaining the attention of the room that hadn’t already been grabbed by the sound of the tray hitting the floor.

“Fuck.” He muttered, hands now empty and uncomfortably close to looking like he was trying to grab your boobs. “I know this won’t mean shit coming from me but I didn’t mean to “

“You didn’t mean to ruin my fucking uniform hours before the game?” You hissed. “Now I have to leave school and pay for a fucking dry cleaner and beg them to do it fast.” You sloughed off the mush of lunch food to fall into the floor between your feet.

“I didn’t.” He shrugged, shrinking under your glare.

“You just happened to stand and shove into me as I passed?” You sassed with an incredulous look on your face.

“You think the world revolves around you anyway so is that really that far-fetched?” 13-year-old you would’ve found that joke hilarious. But 17-year-old you did not. You shoved him with both hands causing him to stumble back into the table.

“Fucking asshole.” You hissed as you stomped off to leave him with the mess.

“I really didn’t mean to.” He said in his defense, blowing his cool uncaring persona. Oh well. He’d tried.

After you got over your seething anger over the major inconvenience he’d caused, you realized maybe he didn’t mean it. He’d seemed as shocked as you had. He’d lacked his trademark cocky smugness. You recalled the times you’d wished you could’ve told him it wasn’t you and have him believe you. So it made your next interaction a lot more honest. The most honest you’d had with him in 4 years.

You’d begun your senior year. That had caused a pause for some self-reflection on your behalf. It was much needed and well overdue. You saw how much you hated the fake friends you had. You constantly had to run every thought and action through a filter before saying or doing anything. You could have no opinions of your own. You couldn’t deviate from the herd lest they pick you off. You had one more year. You could do that. You could have that popular girl high school experience then go to college and figure out who you were now. Because you felt entirely lost.

Which led you to an old hobby. You tried to do things that used to make you happy before you had to become someone you weren’t. So you did something you never do- and went out alone. A midnight showing in the middle of the week of an old horror movie. You figured you’d be safe there. You could be alone and laugh and turn your brain off for a little bit.

You’d be wrong.

There was one other person in the theatre. Eddie Munson.

You rounded the corner into the theatre, diet soda in hand. You’d naturally paused to see if anyone else was there or what seating options there were. But your eyes landed on the near-black set of Eddie’s with his frame of long wavy hair. You stared a little too long before looking down and away, your hands up and awkward as you decided what to do. You couldn’t leave. You didn’t want to either. You could sit alone away from him but that felt just as weird since you were the only two in the theatre and you knew each other. Sorta. Should you sit with him? Was that too much? You quickly realize you’ve been standing in place far too long and make a split-second decision.

“Do you wanna uh-sit together?” Your voice lacked its trademark bite. Soft and unsure. He leaned forward, looking behind you, confirming you were alone.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” He huffed out a laugh. A defense mechanism that had hardly any thought behind it anymore. He saw you frown. You never frowned. Or showed any emotion besides happiness or smugness.

“Okay. Sorry, I asked.” You held up your hands in surrender and walked a few rows down and sat near the middle.

You’d said sorry. That was different. His curiosity was piqued. If he was a cat he’d be dead. He waited, running through possible scenarios and traps with how this could play out. The previews started and you were still alone. He took a chance and like you, made a split-second decision.

He plopped down next to you without a word. You understood his hesitancy. You didn’t even blame him for snapping at you. But a pleasant warmth spread in your body as he sat arm to arm, kicking his feet up on the seat in front of him. He shook a box of candy at you. You shook your head to decline. Another shake, insistent you partake.

“I don’t want any, thanks.” You whispered as if there were other people around.

“C’mon they’re your favorite.” Eddie was skilled at watching out of his peripheral. He saw your lashes bat, a look of confusion then concentration. You hadn’t expected him to remember.

“I know.” You said softly. “But I’ll pass.”

“I mean… 12 year old you would kick your ass for saying that.”

You laughed. An honest to god laugh and he turned his whole head to see it happen in slow motion in the harsh lighting of the projector. You sighed and shook your head.

“12-year-old me didn’t have to worry about getting fat.” You almost snorted out, eyes on the screen.

“You’re not fat and who cares if you were? One piece of candy isn’t going to kill you.” He took your hand and opened it up, placing the candy into it. It was a risk, he knew that. But this felt different somehow.

“Thanks.” was the last word spoken until the lights came up.

“Since when do you come to these things?” He asked as he held the door open for you as you left the theatre.

“Since I’ve been doing some soul searching.” An honest answer he was again, surprised by.

“Didn't know you had one of those.”

“Me either.” you said with a tired laugh. “That’s why I’m here. Trying to find it again.”

“Finding your soul means watching old scary movies?” He asked as you walked to the parking lot together.

“Trying to figure out what I like now. So I guess it does.” You nodded. You looked tired. Not a superficial kind. “You still like the same stuff?”

“Mostly, some new things added in.” He gave away, playing his cards close. He still wasn’t sure why you were being so… human.

“Thanks for sitting with me.” You gave him a soft smile as you stood at your car.

“You’re welcome.” He didn’t want to give away the hope it made him feel. He didn’t want to feel that about you. He’d done it before and had it squashed. “I’ll see you around.” He took a step away, purposely wobbling as he did so. “I’ll be sure to be a prick again next time.”

“I’ll be the same old bitch again I’m sure.” You gave him a tired smile.

And you were. So tired.

The next time you interacted with Eddie followed the same new, path you two were making together. It was civil.

As much of in your defense as it could be, you were drunk. You had also just been harassed into trying to get Eddie to sell you weed when he’d refused the guys you were with. It was a house party like any other, everyone out to forget the horrors of existence and make questionable decisions that made them feel alive for the night. Both of you were not an exception to the rule. You looked down onto the pool patio, Eddie alone on a lounge chair with his infamous lunch box, parked and taking orders.

“C’mon! He won’t sell to us, the little prick.”

“What makes you think he’ll sell to me? Why not send someone else?” you motion to the other various girlfriends in the room.

“He’s got a soft spot for you. We have to take advantage of that. You’re our inside girl when it comes to that freak, you know that.”

“The names he’s called me lead me to think otherwise.” you grumped and crossed your arms. Your boyfriend stepped towards you and put his hands on your shoulders, looking you in the eye, bending over to get to your level. “I don’t know why I have to. This seems impossible.”

“Because you’re hot, babe.” he stated with no sweetness behind it. It was merely a fact to be used in his favor. “And he’s a freak but he’s still a red-blooded American male just like us. Push those pretty tits together and bat your lashes and get your way like you do.” he gave you a supportive slap to the shoulder more suited for a teammate than a girlfriend. You breathed in deep from your nostrils and out, your tits seemed to serve only their purpose rose and fell as you pushed down your anger.

“What if he’s not into girls? You guys say it enough, what makes you think you’re wrong?” you try to sidestep the situation entirely.

“Well, that can’t be true because he fingered Melissa.” he throws a thumb so casually her way.

“Oh my God! I told you not to tell anyone that!” she shouted and hid her face in the nearest pillow.

“It had to be said in this instance.” he excused himself.

“We don’t look anything alike… what if I’m not his type?” you tried.

“Babe, you’re everyone's type. That’s why you’re with me. I gotta have what everyone else wants.” he smirked.

“And when he doesn’t sell to me after I jiggle my bits at him? What then?” you put your hands on your hips as your boyfriend leaned against a wall and crossed his arms.

“Why don’t you go fucking try instead of standing here complaining?” his best friend interjects.

“I didn't ask you.” You sneered.

“Someone should.” he puffed up. “Look, we need the drugs to have a good time. And if we don’t have a good time, no one does. Which means you aren’t going to have a good time. You understand?” The weighted statement made your stomach hurt.

“We should just leave. Try someone else.” you sigh and rub the bridge of your nose.

“You need to suck it up buttercup. Go charm him, hell, I don’t give a shit if you have to blow him to get it. Just get it.” Your lids rapidly blink, surprised outwardly for a moment before remembering you were dealing with some of the most selfish people you’d ever met.

“You’re telling me to blow other guys for drugs. And in front of him?” you motion to your boyfriend who rolls his eyes.

“This is more important than you giving that freak the ride of his life.” he laughs and shakes his head.

“So if I go fuck him…” you begin with the hot anger started to show. You’re grabbed by the shoulders and turned around.

“Do what you have to do.” his best friend says before shoving you out of the bedroom door.

“But-” you turn as fast as you can to be met with a slammed door in your face. Something is mumbled and then the group laughs.

Hurt and alone you white knuckle grip the stair railing to keep your balance and stomp down the stairs in heels that weren’t meant to move fast or angrily in.

Eddie watched you from behind the bright cherry of a cigarette as you came down the stairs, clearly upset. You appeared and disappeared through the large windows of the house. The quiet, cold outside was opposed in cool toned light to the hot inside with dancing bodies. The lighting warm and golden, your skin on show with your little black dress giving enough away to make anyone attracted to women look. He observed as you strong-shouldered your way between people a little too roughly, going to the kitchen and dunking a plastic cup into the certainly tainted punch bowl. Not even he dared touch that stuff with his vast drug experience. You shot it back like it was some chaser and slammed it to the countertop. You gave your cheeks a slap which made him laugh before turning into a subtle smirk watching you push your chest together in the low-cut dress. He knew they’d send you after he told them to fuck off after their vague threats and refusal to pay his prices.

You gathered yourself up, resigned to your fate as you made your way to the glass patio doors. You let the warmth of the alcohol wash over you, embraced the fuzz and buzz of it. With a full cup in your hand, you saunter out all hips and bouncing chest after sliding the door shut behind you.

“Hey.” it was a little drawn out, not exactly slurred yet. But you’d been drinking since age 13 so you weren’t a lightweight by any means.

“Hey.” he gave right back, looking down and eyes swinging up to see you swaying toward him. It wasn’t a sight he hated to see, but the reasoning behind it kept him from enjoying it as much as he could. You sat across from him on another lounge chair. Your posture was obvious to push your boobs together, shining smooth legs stretched out and settled next to his.

“So you know why I’m here.” you began with a splay of your drink-filled hand. He looked up to give you his full attention then. Surprise at your honesty clear on his face.

“I could assume, yeah.” he nodded slowly, looking you over which you seemed to invite.

“I figure…” you began, leaning in and taking a drink, and lowering your voice. “With you, an honest approach will work best. Because I was ordered to come down here and seduce you into giving me drugs.” You watched him lean back and laugh, before resting his elbows on his knees.

“Honesty is the best policy. You’ve not always been so open to that.” He winked his eye, brows raised to remind you of his words of warning years ago.

“You’re not wrong.” You shrugged. “It would be in both our best interests to use it moving forward with this… working relationship.”

“We could have had it all along, you know.” He offered with a nod of his chin. “But you wanted to play dirty.”

“I know.” You rolled your eyes. “But I’m 18, not 13 Ed. I like to think I know a little more about how these things work now.”

“You do.” A more subtle nod as you leaned in close to speak to one another.

“You wanna hear my plan?” You ask with a perk up of your posture and a tilt of your head.

“Shoot.”

“I’m gonna touch you. Heads up.” You say quietly with a suppressed giggle as your hand lands on his knee. You watch his chin push back into his neck as his eyes get a little wider. “I’ll pay you want you want. I’m not gonna be an asshole like they are about it. But we don’t have to tell them that part.”

“I’m listening.”

“When I said I was ordered down here to seduce you I wasn’t joking.” You say with pursed lips. “They’re going to be watching me out here with you. So I’m gonna play along with their plan so they won’t be shitty to me later, okay?”

“You’re going to fake seduce me… so they aren’t mean to you?” He wore confusion on his face.

“If they knew I was talking to you like a person I’ll never hear the end of it. This isn’t just about the drugs now, it’s about making me do something I don’t wanna do.” Your face wasn’t as bright as it was, dimming as you explained.

“Fucking assholes.”

“Yeah, they are. Well established.” You rushed out. “So I’m gonna flirt and you’re gonna not puke on me because I’m doing it.” that got a smile out of him.

“Not gonna puke.” He rubbed his hand over his mouth to hide his laugh. “You know that’s the funniest thing you’ve said to me in years.”

“Why? I figured you were repulsed by me. Hated everything I stood for.”

“Sure but… not you specifically. Not anymore anyway. Whatever’s gotten into you recently shows there’s humanity in there somewhere.”

“I’m trying.” You sigh and stop before your shoulders slump.

“More so it was the idea that you… arguably the hottest girl in Hawkins thinks touching me would make me puke.” He let himself laugh.

“Well, it’s more of a philosophical ralphing, not a literal one.” You flashed him a genuine smile. There was no argument. You were the hottest. At least in his opinion.

“I’m glad you’re still funny.”

“I’m glad you remember I ever was.” You press your lips together into something apologetic. “I don’t get to be much anymore. Just mean.” You looked away, your face turning down as your eyes glazed for a moment. He hadn’t realized the amount of hurt that was inside you. You were so good at not showing it.

“Let’s make your night a little easier then, huh?” He leaned down to open his lunchbox. “I’ll play along and you can go up there to those goons and get wasted out of your gourd and not be bothered by them.”

“Be bothered by them less.” You perked back up and tapped the bulb of his nose which made him wrinkle back with a disgusted look on his face before letting out a deep chuckle.

“I said I’d play along. Don’t get cocky.” He smirked and lowered your hand.

“Okay, playing by your rules Mr. Munson.” You agreed with a smile and put your hands up in surrender.

“Don’t go saying that I might think you’re being nice to me.”

“Shut up.” You giggle and put your hand back on his knee.

“That's better. That feels more natural.” He nodded and pulled out a baggy.

“You aren’t gonna weasel a kiss or a hand job for it?” You snorted out a laugh.

“Don’t think your boyfriend would like that very much.” He grinned and put in the mix of uppers and downers requested previously.

“I was given orders to do whatever it took. Even fuck you.” You delivered the words as if they weren’t terribly depressing. He didn’t hide his distaste for the statement.

“Are you serious?” He closed his box and tucked it away, a heavy bag in his hand.

“Does it matter?” You shrug as you tuck his hair behind his ear, being sure to keep up the flirting for the audience above.

“Fuck yes it matters are they… are you safe? What are they making you do if they’re telling you to…” he audibly gulped. “Do that for drugs from me.” He’d taken your hand into his and leaned in close to your face, your hands hanging between you.

“I’m a big girl, Ed.” You give him a smile that was warmer than warranted. “I can handle them just fine.”

“That’s fucked up. Even for them.” He shook his head.

“All part of the game.” You almost sing it, reaching out to take the bag.

“Money first. Can’t risk this all being a very elaborate ploy.”

“It’s in my cleavage if you want it.” You chuckle.

“I’m not gonna reach in your cleavage and get it.” He couldn’t help but let a small grin slip as he glanced down at your chest.

“We have to make them believe I came down here and laid it on thick.” You reminded him. “We can sneak off around the house where they can’t see if you want. To be realistic we’d only have to be there for what? 2, 3 minutes tops?” You let your laugh grow and flip your hair back.

“Very funny.” He raised his brows and rolled his eyes. “I don’t want them to think I’m the kind of man that accepts sex for drugs.”

“High moral standing.” You pucker your lips and nod. “I can respect that.” You paused and chew your cheek trying to think of how to sell this. “I’ll say I exploited your soft spot for me then. No prostitution involved.”

“I’m good with that. I’d rather be soft than the alternative.”

“Your money, sir.” You hand him the folded bills.

“I gotta count it before you leave.” He said already thumbing through it.

“I added in my money plus theirs.”

“Better make sure you get your fair share then.” He offered you the bag willingly again. You plucked it up with a smile. No more honesty, back to the pretty mask you wore in preparation to deal with your overlords again.

“I aim to not know my own name by the end of the night.” You say with a smirk and stand, shoving the bag between your boobs. “Pleasure doing business with you Munson.” You nodded and pulled your dress down where it’s ridden up.

“Pleasures all mine.” He gave you a broad grin. You swish away, Eddie settling back into the quiet before breaking it. “Hey.” He calls out to you and you turn to look over your shoulder. “Be careful, alright?”

“You be careful.” You shot back with a grin. “People are gonna think we don’t hate each other.” His smile was enough of a response for you. “Don’t worry about me, Eddie. Worry about yourself.” You left him with.

He tried to follow your advice. Knowing his interloping could put you both in a compromising situation. But you’d done as you said and were blasted out of your mind. Eddie was skulking about, the party starting to die down with no new people showing up anymore so that was his cue to head home. He was near the entrance when he heard your voice.

“I said I don’t WANT to!” you were like a baby foal in your heels, ankles, and knees wobbly from the level of non-sobriety you’d reached.

“C’mon…” a guy's voice said with authority it shouldn’t have for your response. The hair on Eddie’s neck prickled up at the sound.

“Im sleepy. I wanna go HOME.” you bellow out and leaned forward, catching yourself on his arm.

“How about we find a room and I’ll put you to bed.”

“This isn’t my house STUPID.” you say loudly. Eddie had stopped, out of sight in the foyer as you argued by the stairs. He knew it wasn’t your boyfriend that was talking to you.

“I know that, you don’t have to be a bitch. I didn’t mean you were gonna sleep. I mean you might but I’m not.”

“GeddOFF!” you shoved him back and hard. Eddie heard a thud against the wall and stiffened.

“Don’t fuggin’ push me. Shit, you’re strong.” the guy mumbled. Okay, maybe you could take care of yourself Eddie thought, weighing his options.

“I could kick your dumb ass.” you proudly proclaimed and your tone said you believed it.

“You could try but we both know who would win that fight. I win every fight. All of ‘em.”

“Because you cheat.” you snapped back.

“I win. That’s all that matters.”

“No it isn’t!” you shouted, clearly upset at this declaration he made. “You gotta play by some rules. You have to have SOME. You can break some but you gotta have something.” you jumbled and Eddie sighed. He never liked dealing with blackout drunk people.

“I don’t. I get my way. I always do.” Eddie didn’t see, he only heard the small sound you made as the guy grabbed your shoulders. “He’s passed out. He’s such a fuckin’ lightweight. And a fuckin pussy for letting you run around like this. Looking good enough to eat. He’s left room for a real alpha male to come in and take you down.”

“When I see one I’ll let you know.” You barked back and Eddie covered his mouth to hide his smile, still hovering by the door, indecisive.

“Shut the fuck up. You sleep with everyone. Everyone knows it. Anyone with the right combination of name brands can get with you.”

“Shut up.” you grumble, sounding smaller.

“I don’t know why you won’t let ME bone you though. You act like you’ve got some loyalty all of a sudden when I come into the picture.”

“I do! I don’t cheat on him!” you loudly declared and Eddie felt his heart hurt for you. You really didn’t. That crack in your voice was real. But he knew your boyfriend cheated on you. Hell, even you probably knew.

“Sure, sweet cheeks.” the guy let out a deep, disgusting laugh. “Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night.”

“How do you sleep at night? Trying to fuck your best friend's girlfriend anytime he leaves me alone!” Eddie winced, knowing who was the predator now and deducting this was not the first time this had happened. He never thought it would happen but, he felt sorry for you.

“I told you I’m taking what should be mine anyway. He’s a fuckin cuck, I know he doesn’t teach you a lesson like he should.” then your laughter bubbled up from deep inside as you cackled into his face.

“Like you could do SHIT!” you almost spit in his face. “We’re both drunk, you idiot. You had whiskey! Ever heard of whiskey dick? Or coke dick? You had both! You couldn’t get it up if you tried!” your confidence was admirable, he had to give you that.

“Listen here you little slut. You’re gonna fuck me. It’s gonna happen. Maybe not tonight. But I’ll get you. When you least expect it.” he hissed and Eddie felt his blood boil.

“If you do I’ll tell him. I’ll tell him everything. I’ll tell him what a lying, cheating, manipulating piece of shit you are. I know you steal from him. That you sabotaged his car before his trip to visit his college because you don’t wanna be alone because you’re too stupid to get into the same school as him. I’ll tell him everything. I’ll ruin your entire EXISTENCE you little shit.” Another loud thud made Eddie move to action. But he found you, holding him by the jaw and holding him against a wall. “He might not care about me. But he cares about that. And he’ll dump you like the trash you are.”

“Are you threatening me?” he laughed, grabbing you by the wrist but somehow you didn’t flinch. Eddie admired the shit out of you at the moment.

“It’s a fucking promise. Now let GO of me. I’m leaving!” he scuttled back into the entryway and out the door, avoiding being seen. He left feeling optimistic about you in a lot of unexpected ways. He knew you had to be strong to an extent to be a cheerleader, but damn. He knew you had to be tough to have survived in the group you had for years. But he’d entirely underestimated you. He thought you were a groveling shadow of a girl, a yes man who did whatever they wanted. Maybe it started that way. But clearly, you’d had enough.

Turns out you weren’t the only one that had had enough of your strength in the face of their bullshit. He knew you’d gotten too confident, too self-assured, and aware to be of use anymore. So he looked for a way to take you down. And he found it.

Which is where you are now. In a moment no one wants to happen to them. This was called a worst-case scenario.

Everyone gawked and whispered as you walked into school that next week. Which was way different than the usual mix of fear, lust, or jealousy. Now they looked at you with a new pairing of pity and superiority. Practiced, you didn’t flinch, merely side-eyeing them as you entered the school.

But the papers were everywhere.

Taped haphazardly onto lockers and walls, strewn around the hallways. One floated to your feet as the doors shut behind you. Familiar insults of whore and slut scrawled over photocopies of polaroids of you naked that you’d taken for your boyfriend. It was as if time froze. Your heart stopped and somehow the world around you kept moving. All your expectations for the rest of your senior year were just turned into dust. Questions swirled in your mind as you stared blankly at the page like it might answer any of them.

But just as serial killers like to do, the culprit hovered and watched, letterman jacket tight around his muscular arms as he leaned against the block wall at the edge of the entry leading to the main hall. His gaze was enough to shoot cold daggers into your gut. His smirk gave him away. He was smug, proud of his work. Your boyfriend's best friend. You didn’t like the guy for many reasons, but you’d never let yourself act on it. At least not that you recalled. You’d been so drunk you’d threatened him and forgotten about it. But his psychopathic ass did not.

Sober, acting how you wanted was never an option. You’d learned that when your boobs came in. Your body and actions and we’re no longer yours. You did what everyone else told you to or they’d ostracize you. By being poor you were already an outsider to them. You didn’t dare give them a reason to push you out. But here you were, laughter growing among the herd, wolf whistles and wagging tongues pointed your way as you stood with dead eyes. You brought the copied paper to your chest as if it might shield you somehow. You felt like a freak show act with a spotlight directly on you.

The one person who understood this feeling was looking at the same paper in his hand. You saw him in the crowd, a bit off center and observing before seeing the photos. His heart dropped to his stomach, his brow furrowed and apologetic before his eyes even met yours. You stared at him. He didn’t even blink. Your mouth opened as if it might call out his name, beg for mercy or cry. A tear finally broke and fell over the slope of your cheek. You didn’t even register you were crying, you remained stone except for that very telling tear. It stood out like a single gem in the sand to him. Every part of him should be smug. He should be indignant and cross his arms and tell you he told you so. Because he had. So many times. And you wouldn’t listen. The one guy that should be looking at you the way everyone else was…wasn’t. He was the only kind soul in the room. Somehow that hurt worse. You didn’t deserve to have Eddie’s sympathy, his empathy. Because he’d warned you the summer you turned 13 that these people would hurt you. He’d begged you not to leave him and go with them instead. But his truths weren’t pretty. And their lies were far too shiny and appealing to your little magpie mind.

You had very few options. But there were options. Your mind worked a mile a minute, looking at the albeit flattering for a center spread but not for the faux conservative Hawkins photos. You couldn’t deny it. Your face was there. There were too many copies to make it disappear. He’d made sure of it. You turned your eyes to the attacker and he didn’t back down. You didn’t expect him to. He was probably hard watching all this play out. You were ruined. There was no coming back from everyone seeing you naked. And with no context. You couldn’t tell everyone they were private photos just for your boyfriend who you’d been in a long-term relationship with and were just trying to keep happy and his attention on you. You were in a way, just trying to be a good girlfriend. But you knew they wouldn’t hear it. They’d heard the rumors. They’d assume you were passing these out like trading cards. The falsity of it did upset you, but you knew no one would believe you. All you had was yourself now. So how do you save yourself when all your usual tools are taken away?

“You did this.” you stated as fact and not a question as you walked up to him, inches apart, giving him no room.

“Prove it.” he gave a cocky nod of his head. That was full admission to you.

“These were taken for him. For ONLY him. He kept them in his dresser to hide them. No one else has access to his shit like you do. And he wouldn’t do this because it hurts his reputation too.”

“Aw. Now she cares about his reputation.” he dramatically pouted.

“I’m stating facts, asshole.” you bit. “But what I want to know is why? This is a lot of fucking effort. It’s pretty pathetic if you ask me.” you waved the paper as if it didn’t hurt you to see it.

“You know why.” Another admission of guilt.

“If I did I wouldn’t be asking, dumbass.”

“I wouldn’t be calling me that. You don’t have the cards in your hand anymore sweetie. He’s gonna dump your ass and I’ll never have to deal with your big mouth again.”

“Good.” you say despite yourself. Never give them what they want in situations like this. That was your rule. “Now I won’t have to deal with either of you limp dicks anymore.” You shoved the paper to his chest as hard as you could. You heard a crack and he let out a noise of pain. You turned and walked out of the school. You sure as hell weren’t going to be around to witness this fresh shit show firsthand. No fucking way. You got out of there as soon as you had what answers you knew you could get.

Eddie didn’t blame you. Like everyone else, he’d heard the whole conversation. The guy had practically written a confession with witnesses. But just like you, he knew it wouldn’t matter. They saw you, the golden girl they envied getting what she deserved. The queen was dethroned and the peasants and her court descended into chaos. He was glad you left. It was the smartest thing you could’ve done.

Now you were left with 100 jolts worth of energy and nowhere for it to go. You paced, but that achieved nothing, the small space of your trailer not giving you any room to get speed or force going to physically get out the endless well of emotion brewing inside you. So you got out, went to the shed, and took out your bike. You hadn’t used it since you’d gotten your license. But driving would be dangerous since you were distracted and a car wreck on top of everything else wasn’t what you needed. So you left and rode until your muscles gave out.

There was a meeting with your mother at the school. You told the truth for once. You told them everything. You had nothing to lose. You were only met with disappointed faces and no sympathy. Because of course, it wasn’t that the boy that leaked them was in the wrong, it was you for taking them. You muttered about sexism but no one gave a shit. All copies had been destroyed that they could find. The amount left stashed away for guys to jerk off to or girls to envy were immeasurable. There were no repercussions for you since you technically did nothing wrong in the eyes of the school, only morally. They couldn’t punish you for being a slut.

It was a weird, rough week. The worst in a long, long time. You simply avoided and ignored. You almost broke quite a few pinkies grabbing guy's hands who thought they could speak to you a certain way or try to touch you. Word traveled fast that if you had been a slut, you no longer were. Except for the whispers, no one else did much. A girl who had a reputation herself tried to empathize. Which you appreciated but being seen with a verified slut wasn’t the image you were looking to build. You’d like to have no image. Just be invisible until graduation. You hid away during lunch, you arrived right before the bell and left right after. You’d quit the cheerleading team which hurt the worst honestly. You loved it. But the joy was no longer there. The girls were told to hate you, so they did. There was no point in trying.

You wish you could say you rose above and didn’t let it hurt you but that’d be a lie. By Friday you were exhausted in ways you didn’t know were possible. You needed a break, some kind of relief. So you went to the one person who had told you not to come to him when your world was ripped away from you. You didn’t care to grovel or apologize or beg. You were prepared to agree with everything he said because he was right. He had been and probably still was smarter than you. You should probably tell him that too, come to think.

Eddie’s phone rang suspiciously soon after he’d come home from Hellfire. Only having had time to kick his shoes off and throw his jacket off he looked at the phone as if had tattled on him somehow.

“Y’ello?” he says with smacked lips.

“Hey.” you paused, licking your lips, looking at his trailer from your window, the cord twirling around your finger.

“Hey.” He sounded just as surprised as you thought he might.

“It’s-”

“I know who it is.” he interrupted you, but it made your shoulders fall a bit, losing the tension for the lack of bite or blame in his voice.

“I wanted to call before I came over. To make sure it was okay.” his face frowned, you sounded like shit.

“Yeah. I just got in, come over whenever.” he said casually, not giving away the cautious questioning he had of the situation.

“Oh, good. Great. Thanks. I’ll be over in just a minute.”

It was a literal minute later you were standing in his living room, looking as soft as ever. You’d kept up appearances for school, still looking immaculate except for the addition of a hoodie this week. Which he found suspicious but he didn’t want to pry. He had his leather jacket and battle vest to make him look bigger and more intimidating. It functioned as a security blanket of sorts for him. Even though yours was still fitted he considered maybe you were trying the same thing out. Or maybe you simply didn’t want people to see any more of your body than they already had. He couldn’t blame you either way.

He’s let you in without a word, going into the kitchen in sweats and a T-shirt, and mismatched socks. He was making himself a bowl of cereal to knock back the hunger of not having eaten since lunch. You watched silently, knowing you were intruding.

“Want some?” He offered, shaking the brightly colored box.

“No thanks.” You said quietly with a shake of your head. He finished his chore and stood with his bowl in hand, hip to the kitchen island counter. He took a few bites, looking you over.

“You look like shit.” He said in a monotone voice and it was exactly what you needed. He watched you break into a laugh, bending slightly, stomach moving with it before you cover your bare face with both hands. You let out a loud groan that grew naturally from the laughter.

“Fuck I know.” You continued laughing, the absurdity of it all hitting you. You knew he’d see right through you. He didn’t necessarily mean you were ugly. He meant you looked how you felt. He was confirming that he knew you weren’t doing well in his subtle weird way that made tears want to prickle in your eyes from how you’d missed it. You’d missed honesty and feeling seen.

He watched you go through the stages of grief in that slightly unhinged laugh. But he loved it. You ran your hand through your hair to pull it away for a moment as you fan your face. Your fingers separated the hair and it fell into a non-styled flop. He’d never seen you willingly mess up the effort you put into your hair with any more than a fluff of your bangs. It was comforting somehow. It made you real again.

“I feel it. I look it. Everything is as it appears.” You held your arms out to present yourself.

“You survived.” He offered optimistically.

“So far.” You held up a finger as of you were directing him which made him smile.

“What can I do ya for?” light-heartedly asking that you tell him why you’re at his house at almost 11 on a Friday night.

“Right.” You nodded, weight shifting from your heels to the balls of your feet to give away your nervousness. He hasn’t seen you move and fidget so much since you were a kid. “As you can imagine… I have not been able to relax this week. Or sleep much. Or well. At all. So I wanted to see if I could buy some weed so I could unclench my asshole for the first time all week. Oh and breathe and sleep and generally not hate existing.” He snorted out a laugh at your crudeness.

“I can do that.” He nodded before shoveling the cereal into his mouth. Forgoing the spoon once the bits were gone and slurping back the milk. He wiped his mouth with his forearm before leaning forward to give you a friendly slap to the arm. “Come on back I got some options.” He was warm and welcoming with his voice which is why the sound of your physical pain when his hand made contact with your body stood out all the more. He froze for a moment, staring at the spot he’d hit before he flicked his eyes to yours. He saw the wince that was still on your face. When you looked away from him he knew his suspicions about the hoodie had been correct. “What’d he do to you?” Burst forth without much thought behind it from his mouth with the protectiveness of a knight.

You shook your head and let out a sound to belittle the situation.

“It was your boyfriend wasn’t it?”

“Yeah but-“ you began to explain before Eddie invaded your personal space and grabbed your hand to yank up the sleeve and see bruises on your arm. He said nothing. Which was scarier somehow. He walked past you and started shoving his feet into his shoes. “What are you doing?” Your voice going high-pitched from stress.

“I’m going to go kill your boyfriend.” And to your surprise he meant it. His voice wasn’t dramatic or loud. It was full of years of built-up hate that was about to be played out with terrifying calmness.

“No. No no no no.” You walked to get his shoulders and block the door. “You’re not killing anyone.”

“He laid his hands on you.” It was all he needed to say.

“I know but it was sorta an accident.” You elaborated.

“An accident?” He stepped back, his face incredulous. “Bullshit.”

“I fell.” Your face winced and you waited.

“That’s the best you could come up with? You fell? The oldest cover-up in the book?” You could feel the heat of anger coming off him now. It made you tense and reactive as he stood towering over you.

“He didn’t mean to. Not like this. It was an accident.”

“Do you hear yourself?” His voice rose and he hasn’t meant for it too. He was seeing red and you were giving him flashbacks to scenes that had played out with women before.

“I know but it won’t happen again!” You’d hit the checklist of every cliche and excuse he’d ever heard from another woman who had been hit by her significant other. He was fully triggered.

“Do you hear yourself?” His anger turned to you and it frightened you. ”He didn’t mean it.” He mimicked. “Was it your fault too? Was he drinking? Did you trip down the stairs? I expected better from you. You sound like your mother.” He spat out as you gasped in shock and slapped him across the face without hesitation. He was right. But that didn’t mean he got to say it. It was as if it flipped a switch and his eyes went soft immediately.

“You don’t get to talk about my mom like that. You want me to bring yours into this?” There was the woman he’d seen stand up for herself last week. That’s who he’d wanted to find again. He needed to know you weren’t another victim. He worried for you so much growing up with the only example of relationships being the shitty ones your mother kept getting into.

“Shit.” He said stepping back and holding his hands up. “I-fuck I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah you fucking should be!” You shouted and stood with balled fists. He walked away and sat on the couch in defeat. He took off his shoes and tossed them back by the door.

“I’m sorry.” He said again after a long heavy silence.

“What the fuck was that?” You asked in a stained squeak. “With this fucking week I’ve had and I come to you expecting me to be the one apologizing for being a dick and then you go and talk over me and then-“ you stopped and took a deep breath to steady yourself.

“When I thought about him hurting you…” he said so carefully, softly now. “It reminded me of all the times I’ve heard good women make excuses for shitty men.” he shrugged, hands flopping with lackluster enthusiasm. “Not that it matters now but I promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn’t ever let that happen to you.” He didn’t look at you, he stared a hole into the coffee table, his hands clasped together, elbows on his knees sitting forward on the couch. “And I failed. I heard that asshole coming onto you and you threw him against the wall I thought oh, maybe she’s got it covered. She’s not the victim here. But tonight I saw just how hard I failed you and… I’m sorry.” He spoke with a slow pace to think of his words before he said them. “I never wanted this for you.”

“Me either.” You barely got out, hit with heavy feelings from his words. God you didn’t know what to do with honesty anymore did you? Any excuse you’d heard from a guy in years was bullshit. But that was real. It was more than real it was vulnerable and raw. He gave you a part of himself and apologized. Actually apologized. Your brain slowly inputs the information you had just heard, running on a delay. “I threw a guy into a wall?” You asked in the silence and he looked up at you.

“You were totally faded. I’m not surprised you don’t remember. I figured you might from the words you had with him before you left school… that day.”

“I threw HIM into a wall?” You asked with high brows.

“He was… coming onto you. And not… nicely.”

“That’s being polite.”

“It wasn’t the first time was it?”

“Nope.” You popped your p.

“And you told him you’d tell your boyfriend everything about him. Lying, stealing, and trying to sleep with you. You said you’d ruin his life.”

“Shit, I wish I remembered. That sounds amazing. I bet that felt good as hell to get off my chest.” Your body language was slack again, no longer responding to a threat. “I guess that answers my question as to why he did it.” You hummed, chewing your lip before going and sitting next to Eddie on the couch. “I threatened him so he had to take me out before I took him out.” You nodded and Eddie watched the realization move across your face. “Those are the rules.” You shrugged.

“Doesn’t make it suck any less.”

“I’m supposed to say that.” You hit his knee with the back of your hand. “Not you.” You shared a light in your eyes that pushed passed the sadness for a moment.

“Sorry.” He gave you a small unintentional smile as you looked at one another in resigned misery.

“I’d like to explain what happened if you can you handle that?” Your motion to your bruised arm.

“Yeah. I was caught off guard before. I’m okay now.”

“Good.” you nodded and rubbed your knees, straightening your back before you began your upsetting tale. “I went for a bike ride after I got home that day. I had to get out and wear myself out so I’d stop feeling like I was going to explode. And of course, once he got to school he left to find me and he did. He pulled up on the side of the road and we… talked. If that’s what you wanna call it.” you shrugged and sighed. “This-“ you held up your forearm. “was from him grabbing me so I didn’t ride away at one point. So that was intentional. But the rest wasn’t.”

“The rest?”

“Yeah.” You grimaced, reluctant to share. “If I tell you, you can’t kill anyone.”

“I’m already pissed about the arm, just not at you.” He made sure you understood.

“Well, it gets worse.” You smile but it’s obviously fake as you hold up your hands and wiggle your fingers. “But I don’t want us to fight so I need to know I won’t get the brunt of your misplaced anger.”

“No, you won’t.” he groaned.” I’m sorry about before, really. This week has been very weirdly hard for me too. I’m not making this about me I swear I’m just saying.”

“It’s so nice to talk to someone who just says what they’re thinking.” You look at him with an odd smile.

“Most people hate it. Think it’s annoying.”

“Those people haven’t had the distinct displeasure of dealing with psychopaths.” You shook your head to clear it. “Anyway. Arm yeah. Bad. But I told him everything about his so-called best friend and to no one’s surprise but mine he didn’t believe a goddamn word I said.” You threw your hands up in defeat to sell your point.

“Oh, fuck.” he whispered.

“Yep. Instead, he got mad at ME.”

“I won’t kill him because you said not to but I hope someone else does it for me.”

“I’m not opposed to the idea.” You rolled your eyes, recalling the indignant way your boyfriend had been so wrong about everything. “I told him everything and repeated it and gave examples and he denied denied denied and ended up shoving me. Which again, his bad. That’s on him. But I was straddling my bike and he made me lose my balance and fall. I was over on Route 930 with the embankment on the side. And I fell down that son of a bitch.”

“Holy shit are you okay? I mean dumb question but nothing’s broken right?” He rushed out and touched your back and you winced again.

“Again.” You lean forward to meet his eyes. “I’ll show you but don’t get mad.”

“Sweetheart I’m gonna get mad at YOU. I swear.”

“If you swear.” You unzipped the hoodie to reveal the tank top you had on underneath as you slid it off your shoulders. “It’s on my legs and hips too but I’m not gonna take my pants off to show you. Sorry.” You smirk in the face of Eddie’s pitying gaze. “Turns out there’s cement down that thing. Who knew?” You laugh in an attempt to belittle the damage. He sees the bruises starting to age, the road rash on your back with a smattering of scratches and cuts.

“Did you go to the hospital?” He asked quietly, the concern he gave so freely made your chest hurt in a new way.

“No. Me and my first aid kit had a long night together. Wore me out.” another joke that finally made him frown, telling you you didn’t have to do that. “I couldn’t get the ones on my back in some places super well. But the shower and stuff cleaned them up.” You turned your head to see your shoulder.

“Christ.” He whispered, fingers governing over the irritated marks. “I’ve got a first aid kit. You need those cleaned.” It wasn’t a suggestion as he stood and was already walking to the bathroom. You were sitting on the couch watching him walk away with purpose before he realized you weren't behind him. “C’mon you don’t want those to get infected.” He motioned for you with his hand as you followed him into the bathroom without complaint.

You stood in front of the water speckled mirror, hands on the counter and eyes on him. He was so quiet and concentrated as you felt him lightly touch the wounds. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, the kit open and surprisingly full of stuff. You supposed it shouldn’t be a surprise, Eddie always tended to get too excitable and hurt himself. You guess that was still true about him.

It was quiet except for the hisses from you and the apologies from him for the pain. You were used to seeing him loud and boisterous, a young bull bucking back at society at large with his bold opinions and taste. You realized that both of you had changed. Maybe not so much outwardly. You’d both been on opposite ends of the high school spectrum but in private he was now capable of calculated movements and attention. The Eddie you knew before you derailed your friendship couldn’t do that. He was clumsy and oafish, limbs too long too quickly, and hormones raging that kept him from saying and doing what he meant. But he was 20 now, it was hard to believe. When you were younger you’d always wondered what he’d look like when he got older. You never saw his parents that you recall. You only remembered one day this rough and tumble skinny boy showed up at your neighbor Mr. Munson’s. And you’d been inseparable for years after that. But now he was grown. You both were. Childhood was nothing but a memory now. You pushed away the past to focus on the present as another sting crawled across your shoulder.

“I know. Sorry.” he whispered, tongue peeping out in concentration.

“I’m sorry too.” you let out an exhale, he felt your body bend under his hands as you hung your head.

“What the hell are you apologizing for?” it sounded harsh and his brow looked the same, but you didn’t feel any anger in him now. “You’re the one that’s gotten the short end of the stick here.”

“I don't mean for this.” you shook your head and raised it again, looking at him in the mirror. “I do a little, coming over here, messing up your night. It’s late, you’ve had a long day, the last thing you wanted to do was fight with me and play doctor.”

“Not the sort of playing doctor I’m used to.” he grinned, meeting your eyes in the reflection for a moment to make sure it made your face look less sad.

“I bet.” you chuckled and unlocked your elbows. “I mean for everything. All of it.”

“We don’t have to do this right now.” he stopped, a hand to your arm to look at you and not your reflection. “You’ve had one of the worst weeks of your life, you don’t have to add this to it.”

“Add it? So you did mean it when you said not to come crawling back to you crying.” you looked away, and he saw your eyes darken with hurt. “I thought…nevermind.” you whispered.

“Not like that.” he shook his head and pulled you to stand straight up by the shoulder. “It’s going to bring up a lot of stuff. A lot of emotions and you’ve had your fair share of them in the past few days. You’ve gotta be exhausted. I can patch you up and you can leave and knock out and sleep. You don’t have to fix all the world’s problems tonight.” he offered with a warm voice that drew an exasperated sigh from your tired body.

“I don’t deserve any of this.” you frowned and put your hands back on the sink counter, you couldn’t face him with his big kind eyes.

“No, you don’t. I mean you’ve been awful. I won’t lie to you. But I don’t think you deserve this.”

“No I deserve all this bullshit.” you let out a quiet but unhinged laugh that caught him off guard. “I meant this.” Your finger poked the counter as you met him again in the mirror, it felt easier that way. “You.” you looked away then as his face filled with pity for you. “You being nice to me after the shit I did.”

“I did shit to you too if you recall.”

“Not like I did you,” you whisper and he hears a sniffle he chooses to ignore, going back to working on your road rash. “I’m sorry. For all of it.”

“Thanks,” he answered quietly. “I’m sorry for the things I did too.”

“I started it.” you shook your head. “I should’ve believed you. You were the only one will the balls to tell me the truth.” you paused and winced at the burn of alcohol. “Still are. Now you’re all I’ve got.” the tears welled up in your eyes and he kept pausing his work, not knowing if he should comfort you or not. He was almost done. “Not that I’ve had anyone since you.” you barked out a mix of laugh and a sob. “This whole time I’ve acted like I’ve had everything and I’ve been the one with nothing. Alone in a room full of people. No love, no trust, no…” you broke into a sob.

“I’m almost done. Hold on.” he hurried his work, swabbing over the last bits of inflamed skin. The cotton was on the counter in a matter of 20 seconds, and in less than 2 he’d wrapped his arms around you. You refused at first, pushing him away weakly despite the tears running down your cheeks. You hadn’t cried in front of anyone since you were a child. You felt like a child. “Stop it. Stop being so mean to yourself.” he whispered as he forced you to his chest where a whine escaped you. He shushed you, a hand to the back of your head and one around your waist to avoid the newly cleaned scrapes on your back. “Let it out. I know this is a long time comin’.” He understood you. And you didn’t deserve the kindness. The acceptance of you at rock bottom, sobbing into an old friend's chest who should’ve told you to fuck off when you asked to come over.

But he hadn’t.

And here you were in his arms. You don’t know how long you cried, long enough to not know anything except the thrum of Eddie’s heart against his chest as you clung to it. The smell of laundry detergent and smoke in his shirt that was now soaked. The strength in those skinny arms that held you tight to him despite your fighting against it. You eventually tired yourself out again, your body no longer willing to give any more tears to the cause. You felt exhausted, nothing new, but also weirdly… peaceful. It was a foreign feeling that made you uncomfortable, you knew peace wasn’t to be trusted. It only meant you’d forgotten to be paranoid about something. You had sniffled and hiccuped enough for him to trust that you were through the worst of it.

“Oh God.” you groaned as you pulled away, snot and slick covering your face and his shirt. He only laughed at your embarrassment, but not in a condescending way. He reached for the box of tissues on the shelf and sat them in front of you where you quickly plucked a handful to clean your face. “I look like one of your D and D slime monsters” you let yourself chuckle as you swiped your face.

“A little.” he grinned as you blindly kicked at him with your foot, making him laugh. “You look like a woman who’s been through some shit and needed to have a good cry about it. And you are so… you’re good.” he said supportively.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” you asked outright. His honesty must’ve been rubbing off on you because you didn’t weigh the statement before it left your mouth.

“Because I care about you. That’s what people do when they care. They take care of each other.”

“But I’m a total piece of shit.” you groan, your face now slime free.

“This would be a lot different if you hadn’t shown me that there was still that girl I knew in there recently. You were burnt out of your life, suppressing your true self that long, that hard will kill you eventually.”

“I don’t have to worry about that anymore.” you said with a varied expression of raising and lowering brows on your face as you realized the implication of your statement.

“What about… your boyfriend?” he asked with a tilt of his head. You let out a loud laugh that caught him by surprise.

“No, no I dumped his ass before he did it to me.” you bent over laughing. “I knew it was coming. So I pulled that trigger first before he could be truthful about saying he left me.”

“Thatta a girl.” he smiled.

“I am completely removed from the royal court.” you sighed. “No cheer, no boyfriend, nothing. I cut it out all.”

“But you loved cheerleading.” your face shot to his, your face drawn into concentration at his observation.

“How did you know?” you shook your head.

“You’ll think I’m some creep but I mean…I kinda am so whatever I guess.” he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “You have this smile that you make when you’re happy. And I mean actually happy, not faking it. You did it back in the day and you still do it now. It shows that chip in your tooth you got from chasing the animals around the woods. The only time I saw it was when you were cheering.” He saw tears well into your eyes again, and your bottom lip blubbed out. “Oh shit, I told you I’m a creep, I’m sorry I-” You almost knocked him on his ass when you lunged forward and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him close. He felt a kiss on his cheek that made them blush rouge at the contact.

“You still remember that.” you choked out, happy tears for what might’ve been the first time in your life leaving your eyes with far less violence than the ones prior.

“Of course I do. I remember all that dumb shit you used to do.” you both laughed at that as his hands finally rest on your lower back to hold you.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you.” you whispered, pressing your head to his. “I know you know you were right but… fuck man, I’m just so fucking sorry.” you didn’t know how else to put it. You pulled back, bodies still close as you put his face into your hands. “You’re the best guy I’ve ever known.” you said so willingly it was his turn to feel the prickle of tears in his eyes.

“Oh c’mon…” he muttered and looked away.

“I mean it.” You said giving his head a small shake. “No one has remembered a single thing about me in years. No one thought about me when I wasn’t around. Or cared about me unless it served their purpose. But you’ve been here. Despite me being the fucking worst and you’re being so fucking kind to me now I don’t know how to process it because I’ve not had anything…nice in my life in so long.” you stepped back, realizing you might be acting a bit erratic. “I don’t know how to handle feeling…good. Happy.” you shook your head. “It makes me do things like grab you and scare you.” you blushed and looked away, leaving the warmth of him behind.

“Surprised. Not scared.” he clarified with a pointed finger and a blushing smile. “You’ve been with the wrong people. You know that. You’ve known it for a long time haven’t you?”

“So long it’s like I don’t remember being anyone else.”

“You… deserve people to be nice to you. You know that right? This version of you. That is honest and very human, deserves good things.”

“I don’t know if I believe that.”

“I’ll help.” he stepped forward and grabbed your hands. “We were best friends once. Me and this version of you. We were so close we were almost telepathic. We can do that again.”

“You’d still want me after all this?”

“Of course I do. Because it’s YOU. It’s not the queen bee, it’s not some jock’s girlfriend, it’s you. The real you. I’ve always wanted the real you around. It was that fake version that I hated. Not this messy… emotional… funny, smart complicated version of you. I’ve always liked her.”

“What if I don’t remember how to be her?”

“You already are you just don’t know it yet. Queen bitch wouldn’t be in my bathroom crying and apologizing to me. Or cracking jokes because she feels bad. Or giving ME compliments.”

“Fair point.” you finally cracked a wide smile. “I’m not used to gentle and kind. And that’s what you’re being. I can learn to be that again. I think. Especially if you’re around.” he had a crooked smile on his face at your attempts to be sincere.

“What I said back then…” he stepped in again, a hand to your cheek that was so warm it made you aware of how much your heart had already thawed in a few short days of not having to pretend to be someone else. “I didn’t mean it. Not really. Telling you to go. I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want to lose you and I knew I was and I was scared.”

“I was too.” you admitted with a wince. “I thought you meant it.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I was too young to know how to handle my emotions. Hell, I’m not great at it now.” he laughed, his thumb soft against your splotched cheek.

“Makes two of us.” you let out a noisy sigh, leaning into his hand. The physical comfort felt good. “It’s been so long since someone just…” you laughed but the shine of tears made another appearance. You put your hand over his. “Nicely touched me.” you whispered, a frown appearing, but bravely looking him in the eyes to see his understanding and upset for the fact.

“I can imagine.” he mirrored his hand with his other, and you clasped onto it too.

“In a way that I needed.” your voice was barely a whisper, letting him know admitting it was difficult. The awareness of the desperation you felt now that you were safe about the lack of human comfort you’d had in your formative years hit you. “Thank you.” you shut your eyes and took a deep breath.

“You don't have to thank me, sweetheart.” he leaned in and kissed your forehead and the saddest smile he’d ever seen was on your face as he pulled away.

“Could I…” you began with a cracked voice and tried again. “Could I stay? Tonight?” you sounded so small.

“You want to?” his head tilted like a confused puppy, not understanding the question fully.

“I don’t want to be alone. Not after this.” you give a faint smile and lean into his touch, your hands stroking his own, still on your face. “I’m not ready to give this up yet.” speaking with your eyes shut made it easier. “It’s too nice and I need it too much right now.” you winced before opening your eyes. “God, being honest is so fucking weird.” your eyes went wide as you snarled your lip in realization.

“It suits you.” there was an endearing charm to his smile that you’d forgotten about. The double dimples appear and pull memories into the forefront of your mind. “I don’t mind if you stay. That’s fine,” he added quickly with a nod. “Honestly keeping an eye on your would help ease my stress a bit.” he gave your cheeks a small pat, signaling he was letting go before he did. “And speaking of…” he stood up straight and stretched. “You came here for something didn’t you?”

“I got more than I came for.” you laughed and wiped your face.

“So let’s go back to that plan. I’ll smoke you up, my treat- stop it’s my own stash don't worry about it.” he held up a hand before you could say otherwise. “We’ll dig out an old movie you used to like and we can just be two old friends catching up. Leave all this heavy bullshit behind for the night. Sound like a plan?”

“You always had the best ideas.” you approved with a smile.

You did just that. After a few beers, a lot of weed, and hours later you were both happy and fuzzy as you giggled and stumbled your way to his bedroom.

“It’s so nice to just… enjoy being high.” you muttered as you sloppily removed your hoodie.

“You smoke all the time.” he pointed out laughing, pulling back his covers as you’d already decided to head to bed.

“Yeah, but I can’t relax around them you know? I gotta be on guard.” you put your fists up like you were gonna fight and it sent you both into a round of laughter. “But I don’t gotta do that with you Eddie. I can just say shit. Do shit. And not wonder if I’m gonna get shit for it.”

“I like it when you say and do shit.” he nodded with a dopey smile. “Without thinking.”

“Not using your brain is A+ highly recommend it.”

“HIGH-ly” he said as you both started laughing again. You noticed him pause and stare, going quiet before you stopped and looked back.

“What?” you asked, swaying slightly.

“Noth-you uh- I…” he stuttered and shook his head looking away. You looked down to see in your lack of thinking you’d started taking your jeans off.

“Oh shit! I’m sorry!” You jerked them back over your hips. “My brain said get ready for bed and I went on autopilot. I didn’t mean to make it weird man.”

“No, no.” he flapped his hands and stepped across the room a few steps. “We’re going to bed. It makes perfect sense. I was…” he stopped and grunted. “In the interest of being honest. I didn't expect to see you in your panties and it threw me the fuck off.” you started giggling and he was relieved.

“I can sleep in your sweats or something, dude. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. This is your place. You’re the one doing me a favor here.”

“No, we’re sleeping. It’s fine. I was…as you can tell from my behavior tonight I don’t act appropriately when I’m caught off guard. So…yeah.” he rubbed his face with both hands.

“You sure?” you asked before unsnapping a button.

“Yes. positive. I want you to be totally comfortable. If we’re gonna be friends we gotta get used to this shit again. It’s just…different now.” You both blushed as you tried to be as casual as possible about taking off your jeans.

“It is different.” you admitted as you slid into his bed and covered your lower half with blankets without trying to look rushed about it.

“We were like… kids back then. We’re… not now.”

“Also I had those awful pajama sets I wore.” you added with a laugh.

“True.” he grinned, skinning his shirt off and it was your turn to bite your lip and act like you weren’t bothered. He didn’t look like the guys you had hung around with.

“I dig the tattoos by the way.” you broke the silence as he stripped down his boxers.

“Fuck off.” he says playfully and it makes you both smile.

“I mean it!” you slap the bed with your hands.

“You’ve gone after the squeakiest of clean looking boys for years, you expect me to believe you like tattoos?”

“Yes.” you gave an almost headbang of a nod. “I didn’t date them because I wanted to or liked how they looked. It was just something I had to do.”

“You say the most devastating things so casually it blows my mind.” he let out a nervous chuckle, shaking his head as he switched off the overhead light and got into bed next to you.

“Honesty can be pretty devastating.” you nod with puckered lips looking nonplussed about the statement. “I’ve still liked a lot of the same stuff I used to, I just couldn’t say I did. Dating isn’t about love or attraction, it’s about power moves.”

“You sound like a scorned woman from one of my books.” he chuckled.

“I kinda am.” you laughed. “What’s that make you?”

“The court jester.” he said proudly.

“You’re more of a bard with the guitar and shit.” you motioned to the guitar hanging across the room.

“You remember what bards are?”

“Yes!” you rolled your eyes. “Like you said I’m still the same girl I just couldn’t act like I was. I remember the nerdy shit and I’ve partaken in the occasional book or movie when I was able to.”

“Secretly a nerd.” he tsked. “All this time.”

“Shut up.” you shove his shoulder.

“It’s nice you have you back.”

“It’s…nice to be back? I mean getting here was the drizzling shits but being here now with you and just talking and fucking around is very nice.” he laughed at your crude words again.

“You want the hall light on or need a night light?“ he asked looking around to see if he even had what he was offering.

“No, I like it dark.” You said with a content smile before shimmying down into the soft worn sheets.

“Nice. Me too.” He muttered turning off his lamp and swooshing the covers over himself dramatically causing the air to whoosh in your face and make you giggle. It was almost awkward, being back in his room together. But you felt contentment you hadn’t in years. The weed was certainly helping your likeliness of being happy right now.

“This is nice but also so weird. Right?”

“I was thinking the same thing.” He whispered with a laugh. “Having you back is like we time jumped or something.”

“I feel like I missed out on a lot of stuff.” You admitted.

“Like what? You’ve been super busy.”

“Busy with stuff I didn’t wanna do.” You groaned.

“Was there anything good that happened?” The length of pause you took to think answered his question. Then you let out a giggle that made his chest warm to hear.

“Lots of funny things happened. But I couldn’t laugh at the time. OH MY GOD!” You shouted turning to face him and sitting up on your elbow. He quickly did the same in anticipation. “You get to hear all the dirt on them now! I get to give you all the gossip.”

“Holy shit yes!” He shouted. “I want to know what those idiots are really like. Tell me everything.”

“They are just as incompetent as you claim they are. They couldn’t survive on their own. All their mothers treat them like they can’t wipe their own ass it’d be hilarious if it wasn’t so pathetic.”

“It’s still hilarious to me.”

“They’re dumb as shit. They get passing grades because they want them to play sports and their parents give donations to the school. It’s all fake.”

“Those mother fuckers. Giving me shit for being held back and they're the dumb ones.”

“You are so much smarter than they could even dream of being, Eddie.” You reached out to touch his arm. “You’re better in every way I can pretty much guarantee you that. I never minded your cockiness when it came to them because I knew you were right. I admired the balls it took to deal with them every day like you did and not crack.”

“Keep the compliments coming hun I’m loving this.” He laughed and hid his face for a moment.

“It’s true! You’re better than them. Not that you didn’t already know. But you are.”

“That’s a broad claim.”

“I would know. I mean… I know them far more intimately than I’d like to. You are by far funnier, smarter, more charming, hell, you’re cuter than any of them. And you have more personality than all of them put together. It’s like talking to a wet paper bag with them sometimes.” Eddie hid his face again as he laughed, his hand hitting the bed.

“I’m gonna get you high every night if you keep sweet talking me like this.” He let out a deeper chuckle, tucking his hair back and looking at you excited in the passive panels of moonlight that came through the curtains.

“I’ll gladly do this every night. This is so much fun. And it helps me so much. To be reassured that there are guys out there that aren’t cardboard cutouts of each other sharing one brain cell that gets passed around. Fuck it’s nice.”

“And I thought you were mean to me, damn.” He joked.

“I hate them. I don’t hate you. So of course I’m gonna give you all the insider details so you can make them cry with your rants.”

“Yes give me the real shit.” He wiggles closer and so did you. “I want to hit them where it hurts. Deep insecurities. Family secrets. I want it all.”

“Your wish is my command.” You cheesed and continued with an inner brightness that he was soaking up like a sponge. “Dylan? His sister is his mom. She had him so young they made up a whole lie to cover it up.”

“Holy shit.”

“Brandon still wets the bed and goes to therapy.” You tapped your finger on the bed. “Chrissy and Sarah both have eating disorders. But he’ll who doesn’t these days? I mean I had one for a while. But I don’t have to worry about that anymore!” You chirped at the good news. “Sully and Karen have been fucking in secret for god knows how long but her parents are super racist and won’t let them be together. Tina had an abortion. And my peach of an ex wiped his boogers on EVERYTHING. Any surface out of sight in his room? Disgusting.” You fake gagged.

“This is… I wanted it all but maybe some moderation this is a lot and I’m high as shit.” He let out a belly laugh in disbelief.

“Sorry I’ve never gotten to tell anyone the stuff I got on everyone to keep them in line.”

“How about we focus on that piece of shit ex of yours? I want to make him cry himself to sleep. What have you got?” He said with a cocky grin.

“He’s deeply insecure about his moles. He’s terrified he’s going to go bald like his dad. He refused to ever get fully naked. Not that I’m complaining about that.” You snorted out a laugh and leaned into Eddie. “I don’t think being naked would’ve helped that poor kid out anyway.”

“So he was bad in bed?”

“Such a bold question to a lady, Munson.” You gasped and clutched your chest as he guffawed at the insinuation that you acted like a lady at all.

“You brought it up. I wanna know so I can make my insults cut deep.”

“He can’t do anything deep if you know what I’m sayin’.” You wiggled one finger.

“I knew he wasn’t packing shit down there.”

“He’s… average I guess? “

“You guess?” He asked with humor but he was curious.

“Contrary to popular belief I’ve not slept with very many people.” You admitted a bit quieter. “I’ve seen plenty of dicks with the skinny dipping and their weirdly homoerotic tendency to whip it out to fuck with each other but up close? Not many. They didn’t deviate from each other much. Neither did the sex to be perfectly honest. You’ve probably slept with more people than me truthfully.”

“No fucking way.” He shook his head.

“Am I insulted or are you flattered?” You teased.

“I’m extremely flattered.” He let out a giggle.

“I know you and Melissa had a fling or something so I figured if you bagged her you were doing well for yourself.”

“You know about that?” His voice cracked and it sent you into a cackle.

“We all do you goober!”

“She was so embarrassed by me I figured she didn’t tell another soul.”

“Only takes one other person for the word to spread.”

“I didn’t fuck her, for the record. I don’t know what you heard.”

“Nah you just fingered her. Or that’s what she said.” You shrugged.

“You are so casual about this.” He said a bit taken aback.

“Well, sex has never really been a topic that’s scared me. Probably because it never meant much ya know?”

“I don’t actually.” He quieted and tilted his head.

“Alright if we’re gonna be friends I suppose I should just be honest.” You shrug. “Sex is a weapon. Was… a weapon. I used it to get what I want. It was transactional. I let them paw and hump for 4 minutes and my job’s done. Letting them think they did something for their fragile egos and I’m out of there. So talking about it is like talking about… sports. They did this, he did that and it was over and that was the game.”

“Again…” he began slowly. “Devastating words and you say it like it isn’t.”

“How is that devastating?” Your wrinkled nose was adorable to him but he felt bad for you. “You didn’t fool around with Melissa to get something on her to use against her? Like a security measure so she didn’t do something bad to you?” He let out the strangest laugh. It made you lean forward and study his face.

“No.” He shook his head. “I kinda weirdly liked her.” He saw that it didn’t register on your face. You blinked and your confusion didn’t move. “You probably know but I’ve… fingered a handful of cheerleaders.”

“Fingered a handful.” You giggled. “Phrasing.” You joked.

“Okay yeah, I should’ve seen that coming. But there’s the whole, bad boy schtick and forbidden fruit stereotype and I did know none of their boyfriends were doing it for them so they cozied up to me in private to get a taste of what it was like to be with the guy from the wrong side of the tracks. Be a little rebellious to secretly stick it to daddy or their shitty boyfriends.”

“This does not surprise me but I did not know it was so many.”

“But some acted like they liked me to get me to do it. Which is why I did it in the first place. After it happened twice I was like okay I see what’s happening here. And it was more… transactional. A hand job or a blow job is still nice whether you like the person or not and well… it made me feel good to make them feel good. They couldn’t take that away from me. So there were feelings to some degree involved. I talked to them, listened, and asked what they liked. Even if there wasn’t romance there I still treated them like they were people.” You didn’t respond for a bit, he saw your face shifting in thought.

“I’ve…” you frowned finally at your realization. “I’ve never done that.” You confessed.

“Liked someone?”

“I mean I’ve had a crush but anyone I’ve slept with? No.” The silence sat between you as he tried to not wrap you up and apologize for the life you’d had. Or the life you’d not had. “Come to think… if that’s what you do when you like someone I don’t think any of them liked me either.”

“Sweetheart I-“

“I knew they didn’t.” you dismiss with a wave before he felt too sorry for you “I knew they didn’t care about me. Because you see sex in movies and it’s when people care about each other. They kiss and touch and say nice things. It’s not a teeth-hitting kiss, a grope, and then in and out. I know that sex can be like that. Or that’s what I’ve heard. But I wasn’t sold on the idea. I mean no one’s even made me cum before so why would I expect something as extra as an emotional connection? That seemed like too much to expect.”

“These guys are worse than I even imagined.” He groaned and you felt his head bang into the mattress. “Did they even try to get you off?”

“At some point, they'd try to finger me but they didn’t know what they were doing and I didn’t care enough to explain so I’d pull that, oh I want you so bad I don’t wanna wait.” You faked a lusty voice that made his neck feel hot. “And got it over with.”

“But you’ve… had an orgasm before right?”

“Oh, tons!” You laughed. “But all by myself.”

“Well… at least there’s that?”

“I love sex if we’re talking about that.” You laughed. “Or I love orgasms so if sex involved those then yeah I’d probably be as big of a slut as people say I am.” That one did make him laugh.

“I’ve always liked to think of sex as a way to show someone you care about them.”

“That’s sweet.” You didn’t mean to sound so dismissive. It was a sweet idea.

“Or it’s about connecting with someone else physically and emotionally at the same time instead of having them be two separate things.”

“So you do like sex?” He honked out a laugh that made you feel shy about your question.

“Yes. BIG fan.” He nodded.

“So you’ve had that… sweet sort of sex before?” You spoke quietly again as if you were younger and asking him something risky about being older.

“Yeah.”

“What….” You stopped and sighed, not knowing if you should ask. It must’ve been obvious.

“Go ahead.” He rubbed your arm to calm you down.

“What was it like?”

“You want a play-by-play or what are you asking exactly?” He genuinely asked and it made you second guess your intention.

“I’m afraid my real question is too sad.” You admitted.

“With what you’ve told me so far it probably is. BUT I’m here to help! I meant that. I know now you’ve been through some… quite frankly fucked up shit. I want you to know what life can be life-should be like. So don’t feel like you can’t ask me something.”

“You’re too sweet.”

“Dentists hate me.” He joked to lighten the mood and it worked.

“I guess… I’ve not had that before. That connection.” He has to lean in to hear your shy words of admission. “What’s it like to have someone care about you like that?” He doesn’t patronize you, he holds back his cooing and babying.

“I mean… you do now.” He offered. “I care about you. I like you. I feel like we’ve connected a lot the past few weeks, especially tonight.”

“I never thought of that. Yeah.” He saw something like a spark of hope in your face. “I care about you too. I Like you. All that stuff you said.” You bashfully smiled. “I’m new to this.” You mumbled and rolled to your back and let out a frustrated sigh. “What’s it like to have sex where you want the other person? “ your raspy questions asked to the darkness and not his face, he frowned at your loss. “And they want you. And you care about each other and treat them special and take the time to make each other feel good? I swear it’s like I can’t fathom it realistically. It’s so removed from my experience that I just…” you rest your hands on your stomach, the covers to your waist as you turned your head toward him.

It was like he had dug down into your inner layers to find you just as worried and scared as everyone else. It was raw and vulnerable and he loved you for it. He loved that you were able to access it and verbalize it for him. He loves that you trusted him with your most shameful questions. He had so many things he wanted to say. To promise. To do.

“I’m realizing now just how deprived of basic human decency I’ve been.” It was deadpan delivery but brutally honest.

“Yeah, you have been.”

“It’s better to know than not know.” You rubbed your forehead.

“Most people are awful. So as far as that goes you’ve mastered dealing with most people.”

“God, you’re so smart.” You say with wide eyes and no hint of it being a joke. “ I tell you something that makes me feel bad and you know how to make it sound not awful.”

“I don’t know about that.” He flushed deeply and looked away with a fidgeting nose.

“And you’re cute when you get embarrassed by compliments.” You layered on the praise again to your gift of a friend next to you.

Another stutter where he shoved your side softly in retaliation.

“This is about you. Not me.” He deflected.

“We’re gonna be here a long time if we’re trying to fix my problems.” You grinned.

“Lucky for you I’ve got nowhere else I’d rather be.” You kept surprising him, reaching out to touch his face with the back of your hand. He had his girl back, and he hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself but he’d missed you.

“No one’s ever told me that before.”

“They should.” He insisted so harshly with quiet words that it made you smile, parting the sadness and making room for something better.

“Eddie?” He felt something in his chest as his name passed your lips into the darkness to caress his ears.

“Yeah?”

“I wanna know what it’s like.” He knew what you meant. But he didn’t want to believe it. He’d always seen through the words you chose and felt your meaning under them.

“What what’s like hun?” He took your hand into his own, scooting closer to look down at you.

“You’ve made me realize a lot tonight. I’ve missed out on the real things. And I want to know what it’s like to feel good. To be happy.” You sighed out a whisper. “And I know we care about each other. I didn’t remember what caring about someone else felt like and it’s so much. It feels nice. And I have such a… fucked up, as you said, view of sex. And if simply remembering what it’s like to feel cared for without sex is this good then I know I don’t even have anything to compare to how good real sex could be. Which is a little scary.” he could see the wetness of your mouth shining in the cool light as it opened but no sound came out as you tried to find your words. “And if I feel so safe with you… and we care about each other… which is the vital component that’s missing in my life so I thought maybe…” he still had to let go of your hand. It gave away that he knew what you were suggesting. “You’re going to make me say it aren’t you?” You smiled and it broke the worry across your face.

“I thought talking about sex wasn’t hard for you?” He grinned but it was kind, leaning down to kiss your knuckles as you let out an audible sound of emotion from the simple act. Neither of you was sure if it was pain, arousal, or confusion.

“If it’s not with you it is.” As smooth of an answer as you could’ve given. “If I don’t care about it.” You emphasized. “Then It’s easy to talk about.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea sweetheart.” He tried to hide the hesitancy on his face. “You’ve been through a lot in a very short amount of time. I don’t know if adding this to it right now would be… helpful.” He didn’t shy away from you, he rubbed his hand over yours, still clasped in his other. He was being attentive and supportive and you felt a new inner turmoil at not getting what you wanted from someone. You weren’t sure how to feel about it. Because you were sure about your suggestion.

“Okay.” You have a single nod and he heard an audible swallow from you. “Honesty time again.” You huffed out and squeezed his hand. “Do you want to have sex with me at all? In any capacity? I should’ve asked that first.” He laughed and you hadn’t expected it.

“Oh, you’re serious. Shit, sorry. The idea that I wouldn’t want to is so out there I thought you were just making a weird joke.”

“I mean I might not be your type. Or you could not be attracted to me.” You suggested.

“Babe.” He leaned in over you and smirked. “You know you’re hot. I don’t have to tell you that.”

“That’s just an opinion though. And you’re different from everyone else and if everyone else thinks that then you might not.”

“I do.” He nodded and laughed. “You don’t have to worry about that. Trust me.”

“Then next question. Or not a question but a… counterargument.” You said with brighter eyes. “I think the distraction would be nice. I think we would have fun and both enjoy it and honestly, an orgasm would be great right now. It’d mellow me the hell out. And getting off and going to sleep sounds like a perfect way to end the night.”

“I disagree with none of that. But I don’t want you to regret it later. Emotions are high, I don’t want you to act too quickly. And when you have sex with someone you care about… other things happen that you've not had to worry about before.”

“Like what?”

“Taking feelings into account. If you aren’t dating then there are questions as to what you are if you’re sleeping together. Or what you’re not. And someone could get feelings and someone wouldn’t reciprocate them. Feelings are messy. And as much as it feels like I’ve known you forever, because, in a way I have, this is still new. And I don’t even know how I feel so I can’t expect you to know how you feel about any of it yet.”

“It is so fucking nice to have someone just tell me what they’re thinking and not have to constantly second guess their motives or thoughts.” You give his hand another squeeze. “So I’ll do the same to you. I’m not as confused as you think I am. I was tired of the life I had for a long time. Letting it go is a relief. And I don’t have any interest in going back to my old Life no matter how this whole scandal plays out. And I can't promise you anything when it comes to what I will or won’t feel in the future so I won’t. But if I did get feelings for you, you don’t have to worry about me not telling you. Or be ashamed of you like those other girls were. I’d be lucky to have you. I’ve always cared about you and I only care more after today. And right now you’re my best friend. I know that. I don’t expect that to change. And I know feelings are messy, that’s why I’ve avoided them for so long. And if you don’t have those feelings for me then that’s fine too. At least we’d know. And if you did then we could date. And if I didn’t get romantic feelings for you then I’d still be willing to be around because it’s more than that with you. It’s always friends first.”

“Your ability to look inside my head and address my worries is uncanny. And impressive.”

“I had to learn to read people and think of every angle. It’s helpful.” You take the compliment casually. “My brain works fast. And it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve ever thought about us like that.”

“Care to elaborate on that?” He grinned

“I cover all angles. Like I said. And with our history, I’d considered what it would be like to be with you before. In case I needed to or wanted to. Or for nefarious reasons beyond my control that we won’t get into right now to bum us out.” You chuckle.

“It’s not the first time I’ve thought about it either.” He admitted.

“Really?”

“I hate to admit it but when I’d have to see you in your cheer uniform-“

“Oh god really? That did it for you?” You teased.

“It’s very little clothing in my defense.” He held up a hand in surrender. “And you do your dances and the splits and your flips and it’s like a peep show out there.”

“You’re not wrong.” You said supportively. “I felt the same seeing you play. That was… awakening. Even though the idea was planted years ago, to be honest.”

“When did I play years ago that did it for you?”

“It wasn’t that, I just had a big fat crush on you when I was younger.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He let out a teasing groan.

“I did!” you giggled. “You were older and nice and paid attention to me. That’s all it took.” You laughed and hid your face. “Then you started growing out your hair and playing electric guitar and you were so cool.”

“You’re pulling my leg now.”

“I swear. I didn’t say anything because I figured you thought I was just some annoying kid. You didn’t see me that way.”

“I didn’t…” he shook his head and hesitated.

“It was that summer wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“Something changed that summer between us. And not just because I was hanging with those other guys.”

“Yeah you suddenly weren’t that scrawny kid anymore and you looked like you were my age and it messed with my head. Because your personality was good, you just weren’t old enough and then I turn 15 and my brain is horny nonsense and you’re all… hips and tits and also into the same shit I am. It was confusing.”

“That makes sense.”

“So I was a little jealous. But I wasn’t going to do anything about it and I was mad at myself over it so it was easier to push you away than deal with it.”

“Easier to hate each other than admit it was the opposite.”

“I knew you’d get it.”

“You don’t have to be jealous anymore.” You smiled with a 1000-watt power behind it. “I’ve ditched those other guys for you. You’ve got me here in your bed. Alone. Asking you to have sex with me. It doesn’t get better for 15-year-old you than that.”

“He’d be ecstatic. He’d have come in his jeans already.” You shared a laugh.

“Hopefully you don’t have that in common with him.”

“You’re serious about this aren’t you?” he shifted and jutted his chin forward, studying you as you nodded. “And you’re sure?”

“I am.”

“And this isn’t going to ruin things between us? End this before it even starts? You’re not gonna freak out and leave me hanging again?”

“Promise. I’m all yours. I don’t wanna leave. This is where I’m supposed to be. Always has been.” he saw the brief sadness in your eyes for the life that could’ve been. But the way you gave him an apologetic smile, it filled his chest with a warm and fuzzy feeling of hope.

“Already knew you were gorgeous. Didn’t know you could be so sweet too.” His voice phased into something different. Deeper, full of intention. “And also smart and funny and lots of other good things.” He blurted out as he scoot his body next to yours. Your hand now freed and sliding under him. “I don’t want you to think that I just think you’re pretty. You are you’re… I can’t believe I get to touch you to be embarrassingly honest but I know that’s something guys have told you so many times it probably means nothing now. But it means something to me. And I don’t want you to think this is just about me getting to be physical with you. Or claim some ownership over you or the shit that guys have done before. I want you to know you’re more than pretty. You aren’t one note. You’re complicated and interesting. I can’t have sex with your personality though.” He chuckled. “I just… I’m rambling now but I want you to know I think you’re gorgeous but that’s not all I think about you. So when I say something about how you look when we get into this that’s not all I see in you.”

“You’re going to make it hard for me to not fall in love with you saying things like that, Munson.” You touched his face softly, trying out something new as you traced his jaw and landed on his full lips.

His mouth opened and closed like a fish in his shock at your words and the tender way you touched him, fingertip tracing his mouth. You didn’t want to purposely fluster him but he wanted you honest. He just hasn’t expected you to be SO honest. At a loss for words he stalled, not knowing how to move forward from here, more words jumbled in his head wondering if they should be said before he continued. You took his attention and focused him with a soft touch and words, giving him the answer to his current dilemma.

“You can kiss me now Eddie. If you want.” You filled the silence and gave him something to focus on. A small nod before his bambi eyes shifted and he turned his total attention to you. You leaned your body towards him as his hand hovered over you trying to figure out where to land. It was awkward but not the sort you were used to. You were used to guys being try-hards. They laid on their so-called moves and it was embarrassing to watch. That was bad awkward. But this… this was good. You saw him think and worry- which was something you’d not seen a guy do up close very many times- about where to touch you because, to him, it mattered. Something as simple as the placement of his hand was so important to him that he took the time to look you over and make a proper decision. You watched his eyes dart about, minuscule twitches of his face as he thought. A jaw clenched, a swallow. When he decided on your cheek you were taken out of your head for a moment by the warmth and sincerity of his eyes meeting yours. He nudged himself against you, settling so he could properly kiss you. He hadn’t even touched his lips to yours and yet he had already outdone any guy you’d been with before. An odd feeling moved in your stomach as he took his time to capture your attention, to stroke your hair back, to look over your face as if it was the first time he’d seen it. Then slowly, painfully so he gently put his lips to yours. Small, soft, simple. A press.

After such a lingering build it felt like so little to be given. When your eyes bat open he was barely pulled away smiling at the confused look on your face.

“I wanna go slow with this okay? And you can tell me no or to stop at any time and I will.” The confusion stayed on your face. You’d never had anyone give you the option before. “Don’t oversell it either. I want you to make noise only if you want to, not to make me feel better. I don’t need the ego boost like those other guys.” He chuckled, flipping his hair to one side and a smell of piney shampoo waft over you. “I want you to tell me when you want things. If you want things.” He corrected. “This is new for you so I’m not going to judge you or make fun or something okay?” Now he was growing confused that you still wore your creased brow. “You can tell me if somethings wrong you know.” He insisted with a nod, his hand went back to stroking your cheek, trying to offer comfort in a small way.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just never had anyone say things like that before.” You shrugged subtly and shook your head the same.

“I was afraid of that.” He confessed with pursed lips. “We’ll take it slow. Like I said. Talk to me, and let me know that you’re feeling good. If I’m too fast, too hard, tell me. This isn’t about me. This is about you. You’re not gonna hurt my feelings if you tell me I’m doing something wrong. I don’t know your body, I’m not going to get everything right the first time by chance.” He gave a throaty laugh that eased your newly found nerves about sex. You were starting to wonder if you’d ever had it at all.

“I might…” you winced your lip and swallowed audibly. “I might need some help with the talking. I’m used to dirty talking but not actually… telling of things.”

“Then I’ll ask you now and then if you’re good. That work?” A quick enthusiastic nod made his eyes crinkle with happiness at the sight as he kissed your cheek. “Focus on me and what feels good. Don’t think too much. You don’t have to be worried about anything anymore alright? This isn’t a power move or whatever you called it.” He grinned when you giggled at his choice of words. “This is just two people who care about each other, making each other feel good. That’s all. So relax and enjoy it.”

“I’m gonna try.” You answer sheepishly. “I’m not used to being inexperienced.” You admit. “Makes me nervous.”

“Nothing to be nervous about. You’re not performing. You’re just laying there looking pretty.” He added supportively. “And you’re killing it by the way.” He brushed his nose to yours and you felt a jerk in your stomach as a new sort of giggle bubbled out of you. Were you blushing? Your face was warm. Wait- We’re you just…giggling? That was an involuntary sound you just made. Your face grew warmer, embarrassed a guy had made you feel something. You judged yourself from the inside. But watching him beam down at you with nothing but adoration on his face reminded you that this was the whole point. You were allowed to feel now. So you let yourself gulp and sigh, shifting your legs together and snuggling down into the sheets.

“I’m ready.” You whispered. It wasn’t entirely convincing but your bitten lip and nod as you bravely met his eyes told him you were ready to try.

He hovered again, and this time with more confidence he planted his lips to yours. That queasy feeling in your stomach returned as you focused like he told you to. His lips were warm and plump. Fuller than the other guys you’d kissed. A press separated with a sweet quiet sound of disapproval from your lips as if they wanted to be together. One gentle round of parting and pressing turns to another. Then another. He was slow and thorough. Unrushed as he let it build between you. You’d never noticed if someone was a good kisser or not. You’d never kissed anyone long enough on the mouth to know for certain. By now it would be to your neck or chest or over already. He kissed you breathless, having to break with ghosted mouths just to get air. Then he brought you together again- your lips circles and now tongues a perfect ven diagram as the heat bloomed across your skin.

He felt your body tense, worried for a moment before he felt you push back against him with subtle eagerness. He took it as a signal of permission as he angled his head and opened his mouth to tangle his tongue with yours. A sound you’d never heard before crawled secretly out of your throat, a hand raised to hold his bicep as the flood of warmth began to wash over your body. Your breathing quickened. You didn’t know a kiss could make you breathless. You had lost track of how long he’d indulged your oral fixation by indulging his own. A kiss had never drawn anything from you. Not a moan or a sigh. Certainly never compelled your body to act on its own, your hands now touching his skin chilled from the air of the room. You felt his hair tickle your face and fingertips. You felt torn. There was a feeling of deep satisfaction to be had in the simple act. Alongside it grew something impatient and greedy. Want.

You wanted more.

You’d never wanted a man to touch you more. A burn between your thighs had started. You didn’t know how to ask. The thought of letting out what would surely be a pathetic rasp of ‘more” seemed embarrassing. So you did what you knew better than talking and showed him. On another press and suck of lips and tongue you purposely move your arms up to encase him and pull him closer. Not purposely you whine pitifully into the embrace as he reads your signal loud and clear- his arm moving down your body to hold your waist and pull your body closer.

Then your spark turned into a flame.

Desperation was thick like the saliva shared between nearly panting tongues. You ventured boldly into the mass of curls that were oh so much softer than they looked. You did as he had to you and held the side of his face as he lay over you. Your hands had their own plans, finding their way to his back to feel the slender frame almost on top of you now. With the grasping of his naked torso and the way more hungry sounds left you, he ventured forward boldly to put his hand under the covers and touch the bare skin of your hip. A moan he ate up with his own left as soon as the sear of his palms touched you. A little faster than he would liked to he grabbed the meat of your ass, clad in soft cotton and pulled you in a way that made your knee raise to try to wrap around him. You weren’t feeling as timid as he expected by the way you returned the favor to grab his ass back. Your hand clapped for a moment, causing him to break the kiss to find you yanking the covers that had been pinned between you and keeping you apart.

“Fuck these blankets.” You muttered as he couldn’t help but let out a laugh at your annoyed face. The sound distracts you as he helped finish the task and kissed your cheek.

“You’re so cute when you get all worked up like that.” He whispered into your ear and your body responded with goosebumps exploding over your skin. He hoisted you by the hip to bring it over his. “This what you wanted?” He made a checkpoint as your chest rising and falling so fast was a good tell he was doing his job.

“Mmm hmm.” So small with your nod and bitten, swollen lips. “I wanted more of you touching me.” It came out much less dizzied than you felt. You were proud of the ability to speak for yourself amid a make-out that was changing your point of view on sex entirely.

He managed to look smug without seeming condescending. Another first for you.

“Telling me what you want…” a more sinister grin spread as he kissed your jaw, pressing your head to the side. “That was perfect, baby.” A kiss on the shell of your ear as his deepened voice cooed into it made you shudder. You knew he had to feel it. Hear it when you opened your mouth with a tiny gasp at the words of praise. “That’s my good girl.” He pat your ass and nuzzled into your hair. Two words you weren’t sure had ever been said to you sent your heart fluttering in your chest. Your face looked disgusted by it, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

You’d never been good. Certainly not a good girl and definitely not someone’s- his good girl. It made 13-year-old you pining for your cool neighbor squeal in delight. A whimper left your throat as you exhaled shakily, taken aback by how hard soft words could hit. “You liked that didn’t you?” You didn’t have to see the smirk to know it was there. Your nose wrinkled and lips scrunched together in a playfully angry face- unable to be angry and truly, not wanting to be.

“Yes.” Was gritted out before a breathy laugh left you, a push of a kiss landed on your cheek, his arms squeezed you tight against him.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It turns me on to know what turns you on.” Another sentence to make you question how he wields the power to make your eyes roll back on command like that. Maybe he did know magic like the rumors said. You certainly felt bewitched.

“It’s hard to admit when something -someone… you affects me.” You swallowed. “And you are…. very much affecting me, Munson.” A smile you didn’t plan spread like wildfire across your face as the charm oozed from his pores with two darling dimples making an appearance.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been so… affected too sweetheart.” He admitted with a shake of his head, his hair bigger and messier from your hands playing in it. You loved the way it looked on him. “You’ve got me so fuckin hard.” It was more of a statement, an observation meant to be flattering on his behalf. So when you snarled, a sharp inhale and a moan before crashing yourself against him again he was surprised for a second before it was quickly lost among the ever-consuming thoughts of you.

Something more desperate grew within you, tongues talked outside of mouths and lapped at swollen lips. You pulled his hair back to see a handsome jawline that you attacked with your mouth. Your hand traveled, feeling his taught stomach and chest, feeling the groan vibrate through it when your kisses made their way to his throat. You nipped his collarbones, feeling feral and acting on instinct for the first time. You wanted to sink your teeth into him but refrain. Instead, you let your mouth share one of the thoughts pinging around your skull as your hands felt him up.

“You’re so- ugh- sexy Eddie.” You murmured, voice distorted as your tongue covered a spot you’d bitten. Then he moaned. A beautiful sound. You’d never heard a guy openly let a moan out that wavered and whined. There was no brute grunt and groan to it. It was like a song. Light and airy and honest into the dark of the room as his head knocked to the side and you played with him. “You sound so pretty.” You smiled against his neck.

“P-pretty?”

“Your moans.” You whispered into his ear and he shuddered, a whine when your nails grasped into his back. “I want more.” You asked nicely, a hand he didn’t expect, landing on his cock. He jumped and to your surprise grabbed you by the wrist. You shot back to see his face, worried you’d done something wrong.

“This is about you.” He shook his head. “Not me.” He huffed out a laugh as he cleared his head with squinted eyes.

“And I want you.” You answered back quickly and certainly. It felt so good to hear it. Especially in a voice so needy.

“You’ll get me if you want me.” He nodded, a promise as he moved you back by your hip to put you back into your back. “But I’ve gotta make you cum first.”

“But- “ your eyes darted between his gorgeous face and his hand resting on your lower stomach. “I thought I might do that when we had sex?”

“You will.” Something so cocky bubbled up in his demeanor that you glared a little. But only because you liked it. You’d never seen him like that. He was so self-assured it felt like a challenge. But it was a promise instead. You weren’t used to guys keeping their promises. But the understated way he held himself in confidence in the confines of the bubble between you told you he’d be the one to keep them to you. “I want to focus on you first. You’re so used to doing things to the other person I want you to know what it’s like.” His hand ran up your front slowly as he spoke. “I want to make you feel good, baby.” He whispered, again over you with you trembling beneath him. “Can I do that?” You gave another enthusiastic nod that made him smile every time he saw it. “Can you use your words for me?”

“You can. Yes. I… you’re right.” You settle back and chew your lip as he slows down, a kiss to your temple.

“Can I touch you?” There was something sickeningly sweet about the question and you couldn’t put your finger on it at the moment but it made you smile.

“Of course.” You nod, bumping your nose into his. “I want you to touch me.” You clarified as you knew he wanted. You’d never wanted to do things to make the other person like you. Make them approve of you.

“Using your words again. Good girl.” Oh right. That might be why you wanted to do what he said.

Your lashes fluttered and you let your eyes close at the end of a heavy exhale at the words showing him you were ready to focus. Since you’d gone for his neck he figured you might like that yourself. He found his theory correct when you let your head fall to the side and gave him your throat willingly. He started sweet to build you back up again, more than happy to take his time and make this last as long as possible. He kept his hands tight to your body never venturing above your ribs as he nursed at the curve of your neck. Your hand held to the back of his head to keep him close. Once he was satisfied that you had relaxed again, head swimmy and distracted, his kisses traveled to your collarbones first, still gentle but firm. After a trek from shoulder to shoulder his lips found yours again. Brought out of a lovely daze you kiss him back. You hum and smile into his kisses, biting his bottom lip or sucking it noisily until you giggle. You felt like you’d smoked again. A bit high on intimacy. The comfortable headspace was broken when a large hand finally intruded onto the space of your chest. His kisses were almost enough to distract you from it. Almost. With the way your body was responding in ways you hadn’t experienced before any touch to an area as sensitive as your nipples was sure to be noticed. With each step forward he worried it would be met with hesitancy. He was too caught up in your past to consider you’d left it and were very focused on the present. You were yet to confirm those thoughts as his gentle grope drew a small muffled noise, caught between your kneading lips. Your enthusiasm drove him forward, thumb brushing over your already hard nipple, a shift of your hips and an accompanying grunt show your approval. When he felt your nose twitch against his, still occupied in a heated makeout, he pinched and rolled the hard bud as it begged for more attention from his hands. The next level of moan began as a wobbly sound left your mouth as it parted against his.

“Good?” a rhetorical question really but he wouldn’t break his promise of checking in on you frequently.

“Can’t you tell?” you breathed a soft laugh against him before pushing him away to sit up and strip your tank top off and fall back into the bed leaving him in awe at the sight of you laid out beneath him.

“You’ve always been impatient.” a smile slowly grew on his face as he realized he needed to do something besides stare.

“Some things never change.” you give a breath laugh, settled back onto a pillow, and rub his bicep before taking his hand and putting it back onto your chest.

“Please tell me these… two beautiful girls have gotten enough attention over the years. I don’t think I could handle it if they were neglected all this time.” his eyelids seemed heavier now, half open as he kissed the weight of your chest, his nimble fingers already tweaking your sensitive nipple again.

“Not as much as they deserve.” you smirk, running your hand over his hair as he cuddled up to your face first.

“They deserve monuments built to them, sweetheart.” he placed a kiss to the center. “You’ve had them sucked on before right?” his face was toward your body, nose nuzzling and throat humming at the impossible softness as the tip of his nose grazed toward your other nipple but his eyes found yours as he asked.

“Not as much as I’d like.”

“You like it?” a hopeful smile appeared before being broken by his tongue lapping out over the popping centerpiece.

“Sometimes it’s like my nipples have a direct line to my clit. I can feel it down there when they’re touched up here.” your fingertips ghosted over his manipulating hand and down your body. He groaned at the effect the combination of words and action had on him. He didn’t make you wait, mouth greedy with his hesitancy being forgotten the more of you he got to see and explore. The hungry sounds and the tense hands holding you down fogged up your brain deliciously, letting you bask in the enjoyment. You let yourself be pleasured, head back, eyes closed, mouth slack as he pressed his hard hips to your side, mouth open as it panted for the opportunity to taste your skin, seeking out the other side. “That feels so good, Eddie.” you sighed and he grunted at the sound of his name in praise. “You can suck harder.” Immediately he followed your instruction drawing a moan from you, your legs shifting feeling him hard against you. “Yeah, like that.” you whined, looking down at him to find him already watching you. He gave a small bite and you yipped before dissolving into a squealed giggle and wrinkling your nose playfully. “You can be a little rough, I like it.” you whisper as you watch his eyes roll back into his head, his nose mashed into you. He gave your nipple not inside his mouth a twist and you moaned, legs parting involuntarily and circling to find some friction. After he had you whimpering, a mouth-watering sound, every breath a whine as you pouted and begged with your eyes first. “I want you to touch me. I can’t take much more of this teasing or I’m gonna do it myself.” it was meant to be a little funny, as unserious was a very comfortable place for you to land in with him. You frowned at the disappearance of his hand before you felt it travel farther south, cupping you over your panties. “Yes.” you nod and chew your bottom lip as he pops off your nipple with swollen lips.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” he asks quietly, his voice thick and deep. The pet name made you audibly sigh.

“I know ‘you’ isn’t an answer you’ll accept but fuck, Eddie.” you groan as a broad grin grows across his face, lighting him up from the inside out. “I’ve never been this turned on before.” you laugh and hide your face. He moves them gently, kissing your cheek and then your lips as you give him unintentionally sad eyes. They weren’t there to manipulate someone for the first time, you didn’t know what you were doing, acting purely on instinct.

“How about I start with showing you what someone using their hands on you should feel like.” he brushed his nose to yours and you welled up inside with emotion. You wanted to scream, the lack of control over how he was making you feel was almost overwhelming. Every inch of your skin wanted his touching it. Your clit could be felt when you rubbed your thighs together, a hot slick you didn’t know you could create already seeping through your panties. It was even better than he’d made it sound.

“Please.” a quick nod as you licked your lips in anticipation.

“You’re asking so nicely.” a deep condescending chuckle left him, he couldn’t help it. He had you in his bed wiggling and writhing, begging with wet eyes. He had earned being a little cocky about it. He was about to earn being downright smug. Eddie knew he was good with his hands. It was what he was known for. Guitar or pussy, he was your man if you wanted the job done right.

“I’m trying. I feel a little out of it.” you laughed into his kiss.

“Just wait.” he bit your bottom lip and your hips shimmied with excitement as you slid your panties off and they were tossed to the darkness of his room with your tank top. He laughed at your excitability, eyes bright even in the dark. The light from outside was enough to see the shapes and shadows, with slats of brightness scattered about. To settle you he ran his strong hands up and down your inner thighs to spread them until they knocked open without resistance. His kisses kept traveling a well-loved path from your lips to your neck and back again as he worked you dizzy with his fingers. He moved as if he’d been there before, slipping between your lips and with a few teasing passes finding the beacon that made you gasp on contact. “Tell me what you do when you touch yourself?” a question that made you shudder as circles around your clit made your face wince and shift.

“Think of you?” you giggled, nuzzling into him when he bit your earlobe at your response. “I uhm-” you began trying to concentrate while he touched you, showing him you would answer him seriously. “I tend to favor the left side. Up and down?” your voice inflected as if you didn’t know. “It’s hard to concentrate when you’re touching me like this.” you admit softly as he works away at the muscles in your neck with his mouth. “The…arch is really sensitive, like the peak… the - shit, yeah there.” your voice goes hoarse. “I switch up what I do, but when I’m close I like to keep doing the same thing so I don’t lose it.” you managed to get out with breaks of moans and gasps.

“And you said you wouldn’t be able to tell me anything. I’ve got you singing like a little bird.” he hummed into your ear, a kiss following.

“I want more of it, you found a way to get me to talk.” you giggled, wrapping your arm tighter around him, your hand stroking up and down his bare arm to feel the flex of his muscles as he rubbed expertly. You let your body do what it wanted with no judgment. Your feet began to push into the bed, your hips angling, starting to jerk as your breathing became increasingly ragged. He earns the occasional mindless praise of “Fuck yeah. Yes. Like that.” as your voice inflected upward, your back arching.

“You’re so wet I could slip my fingers right inside you. You want me to fuck you with my fingers?” he cooed in your ear, his hips shifting against you, holding back on rubbing himself against you for friction.

“No.” you shook your head, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m close. I don’t want you to stop.” you begged.

“Fuck I can’t wait to watch you cum.” he confessed, watching your lips tremble as every breath elicited a sound. “You’re so fucking pretty.” he whispered watching your body writhe, covers no longer hindering his view as a sheen of sweat started to form. He watched your hand reaching for your chest to twist a nipple as your eyes lolled back into your head and another throaty moan escaped. “Want me to suck on your tits again baby?”

“Fuck-PLEASE-yes!” you cried, a sincere chest stuttering whine as your hips moved in circles against his hand. He latched on, no further instruction needed as your head raised and you looked down to see how on earth he was making you feel so good with a single finger. It wasn’t fair. The sight of his full lips and nearly black brown eyes predatory on your slack-jawed face made it hard to keep your eyes open. Every swirl of his finger got you closer, your eyes inching back a little more. “That’s so fucking good. Don’t stop Eddie please it’s SO good.” your voice took a downturn, deepening as your stomach began to tense. Your hand was taught in his hair, holding him to you as he grunted and snort as you nearly suffocated him but he was in no headspace to complain. “I’m gonna cum.” you squeaked out. “Holy shit.” you gasped, the disbelief clear in your voice. “Oh my god you’re gonna make me cum.” a crazed laugh escaped you for a moment full of elation and surprise. “Ugh.” you called out as the peak was inevitable now. “Eddie. Shit.” you gasped and groaned, your body moving in a new way as you jerked and snaked, you tensed all over, you were loud with no intention to be to show off. Your inhales were sharp and sang. Nonsensical babble that made Eddie smile with satisfaction that only making you cum calling his name could give him. He was the only guy to ever do it, and he didn’t intend on it being the last of the night. “Oh my GOD.” you shouted as he didn’t stop even after you finished, with a shaky hand you gripped his taught wrist and whined cueing him to stop. You collapsed back and caught your breath, feeling his mouth dot kisses over your chest before finding your hot cheeks. He brushed your hair back, allowing you to cool off as your hair had started to stick you in places. “Fuck you, Eddie Munson.” you growled but it was with a beaming smile. His loud laugh was cut off by your mouth crashing into his. He’d awakened something, a need you’d never felt before. You wanted-no-needed, craved more of him even after you came. He leaned into it, a hand on your ass as you threw your knee over his hips, yours still rolling. “I’ve never needed someone so badly before.” you panted out as your tongues lapped at one another. It was messy and from the outside would’ve been a little gross to you but in the moment you wanted nothing more than every part of him as inside you as possible.

“You’re so sexy. Shit. So goddamn good. I wanna make you cum again, baby. Can I?”

“If you don’t fuck me I will kill you.” he laughed again, face finding the curve of your neck as his hand grabbed a handful of ass with a slap and shake.

“How do you want it? I don’t wanna hurt your back, hun.”

“Hurt it, I don’t care.” you bellowed.

“You want on top? Or from behind?” he gave you options as he sucked your neck and felt you up, hand rubbing over your downy soft center. “No, I wanna see your face. Gotta see you cum.” he muttered. “Want to watch you baby.” another mumbled free-flowing thought tumbled out of his mouth as you grabbed at his hard cock through his boxer and his head bonked into your shoulder.

“I don’t care how.” you insisted.

“I know.” he popped his head up, turning away and removing his boxers in an instant, his hard cock bounced and made your mouth water as he sat up against the wall where his headboard would be. “Sit in my lap. Ride me.” he slapped his thighs as you eagerly wiggled your hips, already to all fours awaiting his input. “I can still fuck you like this. Not having you do all the work.” he grinned and splayed out. Neither of you noticed the way you licked your lips at the sight of the other, you were too busy drinking it all in. He reached to his bedside table, fumbling with a condom as he ripped it with his teeth. He got to see your body in motion, the way it moved as he stroked his cock, watching you prowl his way and straddle his legs.

“Just a taste.” you grabbed him by the base before he could slip the condom on wanting to feel the velvet smoothness of him in your mouth. He didn’t need to get harder to fuck but you needed to show off a little too. You knew your head game was good and thought it only fair if you also made him swear and sing like he had you. You sucked and stroked, popping off and jerking him onto an outstretched tongue with a smile.

“Goddamn…” he groaned pushing your hair back to watch you lavish him. You were wet and messy, downright sloppy as you spit on him and hollow your cheeks to gag as he hit your throat. A quick tongue bath for his balls made his legs spread and his head thump against the wall. “Fuck yes baby that’s it.” he grabbed your hair to hold you for a moment, relishing in the feeling of you sucking him into his mouth, trying to stuff both balls into your mouth at once. “Dirty girl.” he bit his lip and grinned, “But so fuckin’ good.” he gritted his teeth as he pulled you away and sank you onto his cock, having a little rough fun before returning his attention to you fully. You were a bit rabid and he fucking ate it up. He hadn’t known what to expect but a feral blow job hadn’t been it. With a little attention, you’d turned into a lusty, greedy hellcat who was showing him a few firsts too. No one had practically eaten his balls like that before for willingly gagged themselves. Your face shined in the low light covered in spit and pre cum. He pulled you to his mouth, albeit gently by the hair, and ran his tongue across your panting lips to taste himself.

“You’re so fucking hot.” you moaned, taking the condom from his hand and slipping it on him as you kissed him hard. You were tired of waiting. You were known to be impatient during sex but impatient to finish. Not impatient to get more. You giggled at the thought that you might be a slut after all. But only for one man, it seemed. You weren’t bothered by it. Maybe you should be. But you weren’t. It only filled you with warmth like you hoped he would.

“Yeah?” he huffed with a rapidly rising and falling chest, looking up at you, his hand at worship on your waist as he watched you descend upon him with blown-out eyes.

“You are. I mean it. Always have been.” you cooed as you ran him through the slick nest between your thighs. “You’re handsome but this cock…shit baby…” you hummed and smiled, notching the head of him inside you. “This cock is exquisite.” you chose your words carefully. You wanted him to know how impressed you were. How he was different from any other guy. You muffled a moan by biting your lip as he slid in quicker than you anticipated with how wet and needy your pussy was. You’d never been so wet, so painfully open and hungry before. “Fuuuuuck.” you let out a high-pitched laugh as you raised yourself a bit to ease taking the rest of him in. “You are somethin’ else, Munson.” A deep rumble of praise from your chest as you grabbed the sides of his face, holding yourself up still, not able to take him in. “You’re gonna make me slow down with this big cock.” you giggled as you kissed him softly but with intent.

“I can open you up baby, don’t worry, stay juuuuust like that.” he shifted his hips making your lashes flutter before you realize he was planting his feet to fuck up into you. He pushes until he feels resistance, feels your greedy pussy tighten at the discomfort. “You can take it. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” he held your hips and slowly worked himself in and out of you, venturing further each time. He reached down to rub your clit, watching your face give over with shut eyes and a dopey smile. With your swollen, sensitive clit now included he felt the suction again, your hips moving of their accord as you mixed in pleasure with the almost pain, your need taking over the distraction of how deep he was. No one, nothing had been this deep inside you before. “Sat down in my lap like a good girl.” his face was mischievous, looking up at you as you finally rest your ass against him.

“Something about you makes me wanna be a good girl.” you whisper sweetly, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing you together. With a wiggle of your knees, you adjust your stance and move up and down, the position was new, you’d never had someone sit up and hold you before. His hands roamed your body to map it out, favoring your ass and tits. He sloppily kissed your chest, face buried as you figured out what felt good for you. That also made it a lot different. You would’ve bounced and squeezed around his dick and got him off in a flash normally but you were supposed to focus on yourself. To your surprise, sinking on him and grinding your hips was by far the winner.

“You good baby?” he asked, tucking your hair behind your ear, seeing your face shift from elated to concentrated.

“Yeah.” your eyes shot open, not realizing you’d been scowling as you focused. “M’figuring this out.” you admitted and looked down, seeing his hands on your hips, helping you rock back and forth. “What feels good for me.”

“Thatta girl.” he nodded and took his hands into yours, you watched your fingers lace into his. Devoid of his usual rings that were in a dish on his dresser. You remember a time when he didn’t have those rings, now they were a trademark. And you got to see the scandalous naked fingers of Eddie now. He kissed your hands and you whined at the soft intimacy of the moment. “Use me for leverage, honey. You're not gonna hurt me.” laying your hands on his shoulders. He grabbed the heft of your ass to help raise you as you gasped out at the angle he hit as he shimmied down, giving you more room to lean over him. You ground against him, rubbing your clit against his body, he met you with a thrust as you found your pace. He listened and learned, and matched your speed even when you paused or faltered.

“Never done it like this before,” you whispered, your head hanging, hands now on the wall behind him, your chest hanging in his face. Before he could ask, you answered. “Slow. Close. Not the..ugh, fuck…the pounding. I don’t have to touch my clit for this to feel good.”

“Take all the time you want gorgeous. No way I’m getting soft looking at you.” you simper, eyes still closed and he melted at the sight. A heavy sigh as you rocked back and forth on him. “You feel amazing by the way.” he gazed up and shook his head, you felt his hair tickle against your arms. “You like dirty talk sweetheart?” as he always had he asked permission before trying something new. You nodded, biting your lip.

“I think I do, yeah. I wanna hear you.” you ask with heavy breaths, taking your time and letting your next orgasm build, floating in the heavy weight of him on your insides, the fullness, the loving nips and sucks he intermittently planted on your tits.

“Your pussy is so wet you’re not gonna know what’s your cum and what’s mine when I’m through with you. Such a sweet little thing aren’t you? Rubbing that pretty pink pussy against me and making yourself feel good. Just like I told you. Cause you’re my good girl aren’t you?” you couldn’t have hidden how his words turned you into a needy, pathetic puddle even if you’d tried. Your hips sped up, your voice higher pitched, softer than the first time he made you cum. He couldn’t help but be selfish and play in the fantasy of you belonging to each other. Like he’d thought it might’ve been all those years ago.

“I”m your good girl, Eddie.” you nodded, leaning back and moaning deep when he sat fully inside you, your hands to your chest, playing with yourself, moving halfway between a bounce and a grind. “Wanna..” you whimpered, letting the feeling build. “Wanna be good.” you nodded helplessly, lost in the feeling of pleasure and praise, the thought of belonging to someone who cared for you made your chest flutter.

“C’mere baby.” he pulled you forward, latching onto a nipple as he helped you move with his hands that encased so much of your body. “You are good. So good.” he muttered into the soft of you. He hoped you could feel how much he meant the words in a non-sexual way. Your body shook at the jolt that shot to your clit from his gifted mouth. You needed him closer, impossibly closer as you wrapped your arms around his head and pressed your face into the fluff of his hair. You breathed him in, he felt your lips to his forehead, kissing intermittently, nails to his scalp as your grip tightened the closer you got. He was encased in you, you smelled sweeter when your perfume mixed with your sweat. He’d smelled you pass him in the hallways for years but nothing compared to tasting the sweat on your skin, his senses full of you. You clung to him like he was important to you, like you needed him and he was foolish enough for you to let himself believe you did. The small kisses, and the whispers of his name as he hit the learned spots that made you beg filled his stomach and chest with a mix of arousal and emotion.

He’d thought maybe he would get emotional if you slept together. There was too much history there to be detached. Too many could have been’s to not fantasize about it working out. The way you moved in sync, breaths, and moans in steady intervals, the tones mixing as you draw yourself closer, using his body. The silence around you only made the noise seem that much more important, bubbled between you in the encroaching darkness of a familiar and safe space. Your brow was creased hard, concentrated, and hidden as you took in the lingering smell of his shampoo. You were startled when you felt his arms wrap around your middle tightly. You pulled back to look down at him. “Hold on for me. I wanna see your face.” you nod without question as he slid farther down the bed, pillows still behind him but more horizontal than you were before. Your hands splayed on his chest, waiting for instruction. Your eyes bat, a whimper escaping from the cool air now able to move between your bodies. “Sorry baby, couldn’t handle not getting to see that pretty face.” His voice was soft and gritty, a hand finding your cheek to focus you as you felt him thrust with force, pushing a yelp out of you. He got to witness the glory of your eyes lolling back, swollen lips parted and trembling at what he was making you feel.

“You wanna watch me?” you offer, instinctive in your picking up on what he could be asking with hints. You arch your back, prepared to bounce and ride, something you knew you were good at. But he shook his head, dark hair a halo against pale sheets and a paler face. “No. I want to see you.” he corrects, hand gently suggesting you move your face with it as he brought your lips back together. “Couldn’t stand not kissing you.” he muttered between kisses, your bodies lazily grinding, him now able to easily pump his length in and out of you. You met with small moans, a huff of hair escaping like little bellows as he filled you up, your clit throbbing and aching as it drug against his dark hair and lean middle. He let his hands wander ever so delicately to your back. He wanted to squeeze you against him but didn’t want to hurt you. You’d never felt hands so cautious on you before. He touched you like you were delicate. He fucked you like you might break. His unfairly beautiful eyes looked at you like you were something to cherish and protect and a whimper easily misunderstood to be pure pleasure slid out of your mouth and into his. That feeling in your chest grew again, not the same as the orgasm tumbling about in your belly. This was different, new. His kisses were a delicious distraction your brow knitted as something resembling pain fluttered around in your ribs. Your hand trembled to his chest, feeling his heart thudding against your palm and wondering if he felt it too. One hand kept to your hips, steady, making sure you weren’t getting too tired. The other went from your cheek to take the one shaking on his chest into his own. A choked sob escaped, kissed away as he snaked his arm around your lower back now, still holding your hand. He felt perfect, solid, and smooth as you met in the middle with the slap of skin echoing into the room. But it was almost secondary to the way your eyes locked. You took the hand you’d had supporting you on the bed to take his jaw into your grasp now. He didn’t look surprised, no, he was thankful in an odd way. Relief as you put your forehead to his and called his name in a voice so sweet he would bet no one else had ever heard it before. He wanted to be the only one to draw it from you. Outside a war could’ve raged away, nothing in comparison to the silent conversation between your hearts as only a little bone and flesh separated them. You cried out, him steadfast and shushing, a pliant kiss for every whimper.

“Eddie.” you nuzzled your nose to his, something you’d never done to another person. He made you want to be so soft.

“You close? You’re getting tight on me. It feel good? Am I making you feel good?” he asked desperately seeking your approval.

“So good. Too good.” you whispered and kissed him again. “No one else could do this, Eddie.” you confessed, your eyes so docile as they shined with tears he had to assume were good as you weren’t voicing any other opinion. “No one could make me feel this way. Just you.” you pouted, mouth open against his as you started to fade, the sinfully good feeling growing and working its way up your spine into your brain to make way for your heart to speak as it turned off your filter. Your hand wasn’t light on his jaw, you squeezed his hand in yours on his chest. “I missed you.” you felt the sting of tears, of sweet emotional release in your eyes. He felt your lip tremble against him before falling open and moaning, spine shifting as your body revved up. “I missed you so much.” a tear fell as he latched his hands to your cheeks to steady you, picking up his pace and watching the intoxicating mix of ecstasy and remorse as you spoke without worry.

“Fuck I missed you too. You have no idea, sweetheart. I missed you so goddamn much.” he crashed his mouth to yours, he couldn’t do anything else in that moment.

“You feel so good. You’re so good to me, baby.” you cry out to him, messy and pitiful as you slide against him, letting his hips put in the work as you present yourself to him. He joyously accepts. “I should’ve never left you.” you confess, shaking your head as he kept your cheeks firm, feeling tears tracing the lines of his hands.

“Shh, baby look at me. Focus on me. You’re fine. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” he swore, kissing the bulb of your nose.

“Yeah?” you choked out, hope in your watery eyes again.

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters. Focus on me baby, focus on that perfect pussy, let me make you feel good. Please. That’s all I wanna do. I wanna make you cum so bad it hurts. It aches baby. Cum for me? Yeah? Please?” a man had never begged in such a way. In a raw, vulnerable way that made you want to give him anything he wanted. You wanted to give him everything to make up for the things you’d done.

“Anything, Eddie.” you promised, letting your eyes close to focus. Your breath was light as you exhaled over his face to concentrate. “Anything you want.” you swore to him, caught in the riptide of emotion you were warned about. You didn’t know sex could do this. That intimacy and connection could wrench hidden feelings to the surface. That safety and trust would make you want to need another person. As the tension built, bringing you to the peak you realized your independence wasn’t something to be so proud of. That needing someone. That was what made life worth living.

There were no words shared for a long while after that. You came with a scream, years of pent-up emotion escaping through cries to Eddie’s chest as your body bowed against his. Your body perfect against his made it easy for him to let go as he pounded into you relentlessly as you came. You tremored in his arms, pushing your hair back and kissing your sweaty forehead as you both gasped to catch your breath. You shook and grumbled into his chest, body on fire with pleasure and your mind heavy with regret. You lay on him for who knows how long. He grabbed the covers to throw over you both, rough fingertips but delicate touch up and down the unmarked parts of your back. It soothed you like a baby. You were almost ashamed at how content you felt. But nothing about this felt wrong. It felt so impossibly right. He eventually broke the silence, by of course checking in on you.

“How are you feeling?” a whisper into your hair as he kissed your head.

“A lot.” for a beat neither knew what to say before you let out a quiet laugh. “I’m okay.” you nodded and snuggled into his chest.

“Do you… wanna talk about it?” his voice cracked and it made you smile to know he was also as unsure as you were about how to move forward.

“We should.” you grunt and move to roll next to him. Your body for the first time all week was lax and comfortable. “Can I?” you nod your head to suggest you cuddle up next to him.

“Please.” he insisted, holding up his arm as you slid beneath it. Your hand rested on his chest, his fingers in your hair as you sat in the aftermath.

“I uh-” a nervous huff tickled across his skin. “Fuck it.” you sighed. “I meant it. All of it. I’m sorry for what I did to us. Because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. So many times I almost told you you were right and I didn’t want to do it anymore. But I was too stubborn. Too proud. In too deep.” your head nuzzled into his pec. “You feel like coming home. This feels like I’ve been traveling for years and I’m finally back in my own bed where I belong.” you were unknowingly making his eyes water now.

“Because this is where you belong.” he met you with the same sentiment. You craned your neck to look at his face. “Everything I did against you was because I was hurt. I didn’t mean any of it. Not really.” he looked away and chewed his lip. “I kept hoping you would come back, you know? I knew you weren’t happy. But I couldn’t tell you that and risk you pushing even farther away.”

“You’re right. As always.” you reassured him.

“I’m not happy about how it happened. But I’m happy something happened to break you out. It wasn’t gonna be pretty no matter what it was.”

“True. I’m glad it happened too. I was so tired.”

“I know, baby.” he stretched to kiss you. “How about you rest now, huh?”

“You have any plans this weekend?”

“Spending it with you I hope.” he felt you smile, resting your chin on his chest.

“Lots of naps. Lots of… stories and sharing and apologizing.”

“Lots of catching up to do.” he nodded. You leaned up to kiss him again with more intent.

“Thank you.” you whispered against his lips. “For everything.”

“We’ve got all the time in the world to talk about it, sweetheart.” he wrapped his arms around you, turning toward you and pulling you to his chest. “Thank me by going to sleep with me.” he smooched your cheek playfully, noisily. You didn’t say another word. You simply did as he asked. He had a track record of always being right after all.

In the morning, or afternoon really by the time you awoke and giggled and kissed your way out of bed. You put on the same clothes as the day before, looking fairly normal and not your usual walk of shame aesthetic. It was nice to be comfortable for once. Eddie opened the door in a flannel with clashing print pajama pants. When you looked out into the living room you met the eyes of Wayne. You’d spoken more with him than Eddie in the last few years. That wasn’t saying much. He glanced between you and Eddie with clear confusion. You would’ve been confused too.

“Should I be worried?” he finally asked, not knowing how to breach the subject of you having slept over. He didn’t know if it was platonic like it had been for years before or if was less than innocent. He only knew you hadn’t talked to his boy in years and now you were sleeping over again.

“She had a week from hell.” Eddie explained as you sheepishly nodded and gave him an apologetic smile.

“I didn’t wanna be alone last night.” you admitted as Edie’s head twist your way, the softest smile on his face for you openness. “I was really upset.” you toed the linoleum floor. “Eddie offered to let me stay. Hope that’s okay.”

“You’re always welcome here, darlin’. Nothing’s changed as far as I’m concerned.” he nodded with a warm smile.

“I think I’ll be around a lot more now.” you nodded still looking a bit sad, dark circles under your eyes.

“Everything okay?” he took it as you trying to say you’d need more support, that things were bad.

“Not right now, no.” you wrinkle your nose and shove your hands in your hoodie pockets. “But I think… for the first time in a long time...” you smile and watch Eddie making you both bowls of cereal, focused on his task. “They will be.”

ngl, I live for validation, feedback, and interaction. Comments and reblogs make my day. <3 Feel free to send asks or requests. I'm just a silly little animal with a hyper fixation!

My Eddie Munson Masterlist!

I tagged people who were on my former fic Seeing Stars and people who showed interest in this work through likes/comments. If you don't want to be tagged in future Eddie works, just let me know!

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[frownyalfred]

i've been going through your asks and really enjoying your thoughts on how certain things work in your a/b/o world and i'm curious about transness in your world? are ppl allowed to take suppressants/medication to change their secondary gender if they want? if jason really didn't feel like an omega and wanted to be a beta or alpha, is that something he could do? i know that's not the point of your fic but i wondered how something like that would be treated

Thank you anon! Good question. I think I answered a few asks when I first started writing ASOH back in the fall about this topic. The question came up in the context of in-universe trans-ness versus Jason's desire to be alpha versus gender essentialism (that I was trying to avoid while writing this trope).

Personally, I always thought that Jason's aversion to his gender mirrors Bruce's, in that they have no internal issue with the changes of their bodies or instincts, but are averse to the external expectations, pressures, and effects of being omega in an a/b/o universe.

In my opinion, that meant that Jason and Bruce's initial rejection of omegahood was less about a disconnect between their personal, innate gender identity and the world they live in, and more about a disconnect between expected gender expression and the world they live in. Essentially, if omegas were treated better in-universe and free of stereotypes and expectations, they would have far fewer, if any, objections to their presented gender identity.

But, I absolutely believe there are folks in the a/b/o universe I've built who do feel that identity disconnect, i.e., that if omegas were suddenly treated better and gender expression expectations disappeared, they would still experience dysphoria about their dynamic/presented gender. And yes, I imagine they would take blockers/suppressants to achieve that.

Jason, for example, likely could've lived unpresented and frozen right before his presentation likely indefinitely, on the right drugs. I imagine this is kind of like how puberty blockers work IRL. Bruce attempted to suppress his dynamic post-presentation, and eventually over-did the suppressants to the point where they stopped working. Basically implying that a pre-presentation suppressant routine is easier and more tolerated than a post-presentation suppressant routine.

As we saw in the fic, Jason's use of alpha pheromones did grant him alpha instincts and abilities, though slightly more limited than other alphas in some ways. He had an alpha voice and certainly the scent. When he was routinely taking the medication, he was recognized by others as an alpha (minus Clark, who has a super nose, and Lex, who also arguably has a more sensitive than average nose).

I'm not sure where I'm going with this, other than to say, yes absolutely. I really hoped, and continue to hope, that I manage to discuss these tropes and topics in a way that's respectful to trans folks and doesn't veer into genre/trope-specific gender essentialism.

I don't want Bruce or Jason especially to be viewed as examples of resolved gender dysphoria, because their root issue wasn't necessarily gender dysphoria as we understand it. Their problem was with the expectations and real consequences of being their dynamic, and their own internalized hatred for the dynamic (likely borne from trauma).

A lot of those expectations are subverted in this fic. Becoming an omega isn't what Bruce or Jason thought it would be, and mostly in good ways.

[zoeykallus]

Ahola! Zoe how are you? ✨✨

Can I request some HC on how batchers would react to their children going through puberty? And how they would comfort and explain to them how it works and they would probably be upset because their baby is growing up 🥺🥺

Oh, interesting question...

The Bad Batch HCs - Puberty And Its Pitfalls

Puberty - How do our boys deal with their kids going through one of life's most difficult phases?

__________________

Hunter

He senses something is coming before it really gets started and takes his offspring aside to have a reasonable conversation.

"There are some changes coming your way. Physically but also mentally."

His child looks up at him critically.

"What kind of changes?"

"How well are you being educated at school? Have you talked about puberty yet?"

The child rolls their eyes, "Oh, you mean that. We learn all about it in school."

"I don't think you really learn everything," Hunter says doubtfully.

"The Holonet knows the rest. Dad, I don't really want to talk to you about it."

Hunter sighs and says, "Listen, just one thing, okay?"

"Alright"

He looks at his child urgently and says, "There will be days when everything will be too much for you, you will feel overwhelmed, feel many intense things at once. But that phase will pass. If you ever want to talk, you know where to find me, okay? You can always talk to me, you know that."

Another eye roll, but then, a smile, "I know, Dad".

Echo

He got material, reading material, An audiobook and some handouts.

"You should take a closer look and listen to all of this in the near future."

His child looks at him questioningly.

"If you have any questions about it, come see me".

Echo waits several days, but his child doesn't ask questions.

"And did you read the stuff I gave you?"

"Yes"

"And?"

The child shrugs and says, "Dad we learn this in school and things that are unclear can be looked up in the Holonet"

"You don't have any questions for me?" he asks, puzzled.

With a shake of their head, his offspring answers in the negative.

Echo sighs.

"Please don't grow up too fast"

The child laughs, "Relax, dad, just because I can handle this on my own doesn't mean I don't need you anymore."

Echo smirks and says, "You're smarter than your old man."

Wrecker

He feels a bit insecure and overwhelmed. His child's changing moods are getting to him, but he knows where it's all coming from. Tech has given him some good tips and provided reading material.

Wrecker is open and warm; his children, despite what they may be going through, find it easier to open up to him and seek advice or help in an emergency. Patience, understanding and caring, characterize him as a father.

"It seems like yesterday when I couldn't get you off the animal merry-go-round at the fair," he says wistfully.

"Dad, that was 11 years ago."

Wrecker sighs.

"It was still only yesterday to me. You grow way too fast, it's like you're getting married and moving out tomorrow"

The child laughs and squeezes him warmly.

"Oh, dad, I'm still here".

Wrecker squeezes his child and sighs again.

"You know you can talk to me about anything, even boys and girls and stuff".

The kid laughs, "I'll be fine dad, but if I'm not, I know where to find you."

Tech

He showers his child with reading material and gives one lecture after another until the child's ears almost bleed. It is very likely that Tech will have to be slowed down a bit by his partner or another family member.

A child going through puberty is a challenge that Tech takes seriously, too seriously, perhaps. He really exaggerates his efforts. He has read far too many reports of other parents' experiences and has been unsettled by many a horror story.

Theoretically, he is prepared for all eventualities. Even for the absolutely most improbable cases, for which he nevertheless admits a certain percentage of probability in the back of his mind. He is prepared. At least, he hopes he is.

"It's probably going to be scary," he says seriously.

His child says matter-of-factly, "I'm already educated, Dad."

"I meant for me"

Crosshair

He leaves as much as possible to his partner. The whole thing is an unpleasant, embarrassing topic, he thinks. So he tries to avoid big conversations about it.

But he has a basic conclusion.

"It's going to be exhausting, for all of us, but especially for you. You'll have the wildest ideas and thoughts. At best, don't give in to them. If someone touches you against your will, you tell Daddy, so he can kill the person"

"Um, okay Dad"

However, if his children really do seek his advice, he will of course try as hard as he can. But he doesn't tell anyone that he is sad about how fast his children are growing up, and tries to hide it in any case.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

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[icanseethefuture333]

i would really appreciate your advice, i was a loner in high school because i was teased due to my looks and social anxiety. and although i've glown up in appearance and am more social, i still feel really insecure... i graduated but i still feel this way... thank you

Pretty face, even prettier soul - a guide to inner beauty & confidence.

What to do when you look like a princess, but don't really feel like one?

I want to mention this is something I struggle with all the time. Even some of the most beautiful women in the world struggle with insecurities. Celebrities even create personas and alter egos to appear as more confident, when deep down they are actually dealing with anxiety. So anon, I personally believe you've always have been beautiful, but people were not kind or patient to you given the fact you were still a child going through puberty. I'm sorry you had to go through that, truly! You have to learn that what those bullies said or did to you isn't true and it is not your fault for what happened. Give your inner child the grace and kindness that those kids in your school never gave to you. Now that we have discussed that, let's move on to our guideline.

1. Take back your power

Our subconscious is filled with past memories and everything we experienced from the moment we are born into this world. Our parents, teachers, family members, people on television, etc, have taught us how to speak, read, and write just by merely talking to us or showing us letters. That is a very powerful thing to do! From babies to toddlers (AKA the early development stage), people are able to program an infant's mind. Not to mention, our brains don't even fully develop until our 30's. So what thoughts do we actually have to ourselves? Our feelings. We may have opinions or personal tastes, but that could easily be influenced by the media and trends surrounding us.

You have to be in control of what your feelings are and what you will allow to take from others. We all experience unfortunate events and pain that is inflicted from others, but it is never right to inflict that same pain onto ourselves. I want you to acknowledge how those people in high school hurt you and write down in a journal how it makes you feel. Now, ask yourself - do those same words you remember hearing linger in your subconscious mind? Do you often have doubts or thoughts that transpire into feelings of unworthiness or insecurity? That my dear, is the toxic pattern that needs to be addressed and stopped immediately.

Do this in a safe and calming place (this might be triggering so do it when you are ready to).

Visualize the memory of the event of where you heard these harmful words said to you. What location did it take place? Was it brief? Did the situation last for a long time? Was there a lot of noise, or was it more quiet? How does your inner child feel in this situation?

As the memory comes back to you, tell your inner child that everything is okay, and that you are there for them now, that you will be their protector.

Take back your power from this situation and these people, tell them everything you wished you could of said. It's okay if you get angry, sad, or any other emotion. It's also okay if you want to forgive them or even don't. That's entirely up to you.

I recommend doing Shadow work, since healing from past trauma is a lengthy process, but this meditative exercise is a great start for addressing the problem you're facing so far.

2. Perception

How we perceive things in the world is different for everybody. For those of us with social anxiety or insecurity, we are more hyper aware of our surroundings and have a hard time relaxing. We are observant of those who give us looks or speak to us in a certain tone, but how is that look or tone deciphered? For example, you could be having a conversation with a close friend and the way she is looking at you or her tone doesn't seem to be the nicest, so you tell her this, then she says "oh I'm just tired, sorry if I'm not sounding too excited right now!". To you, you percieve her as aggravated and cranky, while to her she thought she was being geniune, friendly, and giving her best to be attentive to what you are communicating to her. This an example of how our perceptions can differ in the world. No one is wrong or right regarding this.

Keep in mind that you are perceiving things from your perspective and try to look at things from a different point of view. Most people are conscious about themselves because they don't want to embarrass themselves or look like a fool, but actually most people don't pay attention to everything they're feeling insecure about. They might even like what you're insecure about or find it beautiful, and if they don't, it's not the end of the world!

Try to create a new lense and envision yourself in a more positive light. You could even practice affirmations, listen to music, or do activities that make you feel more confident. When we do the things we love, we often experience more feelings of joy or happiness!

3. Inner child healing

Oh you thought I was done talking about the inner child? Lol you thought wrong!

Our inner children are the last piece of the puzzle. They are the core essence of our self concepts and without them not feeling well, we are gonna feel the same 🥺!

When we were young, we all had our unique quirks that was deemed possibly weird, annoying, or silly, but what people don't understand that's just how children are! They are so creative and fun and have so much potential in their young minds, hearts, and souls!

You having feelings of insecurity because you are not seeing the beauty and lovable qualities that your younger self had. You are thinking that because "physically" you had a glow up or transformation now that you are more beautiful, but in actuality you are just now blossoming into a young adult. I just find it hilarious that society really brainwashed us into thinking that being "done" with puberty means we had a "glow up". You are still going to change and transform over time. A tree is never done changing throughout the seasons. Sometimes it will be green and rich, with many leaves during the summer, then it will be all dry and brittled up during the winter. You never stop evolving as a human.

Let go of this way of thinking because it is not going to help you heal from your insecurity, addressing those issues will.

Do activities with your inner child, journal about them, think back to your childhood what made her happy or feel beautiful before any devastating situation happened. Children are really delicate, and this is you as a child, so you need to be kinder to yourself.

Perhaps find a picture of yourself at this age and praise or give them words of affirmations" "You look so nice today! I am so proud of you!".

4. Be yourself 👑

Ultimately, it comes down to realizing the potential and magnitude that you possess inside. You have to realize that there is, or are, going to be people who love you because you are just being you. You don't have to please anyone who doesn't fancy you, because I mean - who the fuck are they if they don't even like you? They're totally irrelevant. You have to see what others find so great about you and maybe even discover parts of yourself that is actually amazing. Our self concept is perceived in various ways. There is how people perceive you and then there is how you perceive yourself.

How do you wish to see yourself? Do you wish to continue thinking negatively or being harsh towards yourself? Or would you like to be able to come to a place of peace and to see those insecurities actually become a strength of yours?

Lastly, all I can say is be patient, once you start taking care of yourself and your inner child, things will be able to progress from there, but it is a process and a journey. So don't try to rush it.

I hope you find this helpful anon, take care 💕