#v; to live in infamy.

[abovedivinity]

@hraunwyf gets a thing

He was always one for the dramatic; The pomp and circumstance, the value of a good entrance. But sometimes, he knew, the most striking ones were also the ones most subtle.

And so, he stood, an apron covering the well tailored juniper green suit, the jacket neatly set aside, sleeves rolled up as his attention was, seemingly, squarely focused at the fish stew-in-progress in front of him.

But he need not look to see.

"It is not yet done." He speaks without even a nod of acknowledgement, reaching over to sprinkle more pepper over the dish. With the ease in which he moved around the kitchen, one could almost think he wasn't the one breaking in. "I must say, for a woman of your status, your spice cabinet is...disappointing."

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

Thinking about poor, doomed Young Griff and how it’s not even important if he is or isn’t Rhaegar’s real son. Because what makes him a fake goes beyond blood - it’s really down to intent and experience. He’s a poor rich man’s Aegon V, but like without the organic hero’s journey.

He’s a lab experiment pretty much. However well intentioned he is, there isn’t much indication that his journey has been authentic. Varys and Illyrio are trying to recreate Aegon V with a fake...literally down to the “let’s hide his hair” scheme. They even gave the boy Aegon’s freaking name (it’s a king’s name after all so I can’t blame them). But they missed like the biggest, most important lesson of all. Aegon V CHOSE to go out. HE made himself, no one else did. His journey was organic as it was derived out of his own autonomous decisions, not manufactured down to the smallest detail (does YG really know what it means to starve and be homeless and hunted?). And there was no promise of a reward (I.e., kingship). Egg didn’t know that he’d be king and even after his dad rose to the throne, there were a ton of people ahead of him. FFS he’s called Aegon the Unlikely. Bro just woke up one day and was like “ay wouldn’t it be nice to actually experience this realm from the perspective of a disenfranchised person?”

Meanwhile, our poor Young Griff is being made to go through all this with the expectation that it’s all going to pay off when he becomes king. BUT (big but!), who’s to say that he actually gets it? Like does he really get why he needs to see how this horrible feudalistic society preys on the smallfolk and makes corpses out of them? Wait, does he even know or recognize that the system needs changing? Like did Varys and Illyrio just tell him “people poor” and leave it at that? Why are they poor Young Griff? How did they get there?! Do Varys and Illyrio even get it? Do they understand that Aegon V was a radical change maker?

How hollow is it that it’s not Young Griff making the conscious decision to actually try and see how his subjects live. He’s not making the conscious decision to be a change maker, no matter what Varys and Illyrio say. People in this fandom will talk about how Young Griff will be the perfect king but…perfect for whom? In what way? In a series that critiques this entire system, what about YG screams that he’s going to actually tackle some of the systemic issues that need tackling - the systemic issues that Aegon V tried to tackle after organically going through his own journey?

WELLLLL….isn’t it cool that Jon and Dany are the true heirs to Aegon V’s legacy not because of blood, but because they actually get to the heart of Aegon V’s journey? Say what you want about them but they are radical as it gets (Jon at the Wall and Dany all over Slaver’s Bay). No one manufactured them. No one told them they had to care about people. No one told them they had to do this lab experiment to become king/queen. They actually did their own thing, while themselves being disenfranchised (GRRM identifies both as outsiders). And without the expectation of a reward (like Jon is literally told that his entire life will basically amount to nothing).

And it’s even better that they were unlikely. Young Griff is meant to happen - well someone is pulling the strings to make sure he works. He’s taking the role of someone who was always meant to be king - for Rhaegar’s son was meant to be king. But Jon and Dany are actually following the Aegon V blueprint because they weren’t meant to happen. Jon is a second son who is presumably a bastard with a contentious claim, and Dany is a daughter who was never meant to survive being sold off to slavery let alone rise to queenship. Neither one of them was meant to be on the throne. No one told them to do the things they did. No one took them and placed them in the positions they’re in. They rose to the occasion by themselves and made changes by their own volition - just as it was with Aegon V. And what makes it even better is that just as Aegon V was chosen to be king, so were Jon and Dany (Jon was literally elected into office and basically won over the wildlings while Dany was dubbed “mhysa” because of her actions in Slaver’s Bay).

[otrtbs]

Would you ever consider writing a one-shot (maybe for the 1 year anniversary?) with what would have happened had reg made it out alive (I would cry)

hi! i don't know if i'm going to put out anything for the one year anniversary of art heist but if i did it wouldn't be a regulus-living-situation sorry! any situation that comes out of art heist where regulus lives is an alternate ending to me. and regulus living was just,,, never the story i wanted to write. and tbh my fear is a lot of people would read that ending and say "this is the ending we deserved" or "this is how it should've gone" or "i'm pretending this was the original ending" and none of those things feel super great i can't lie! and i feel like it detracts from the original intent of the story i wrote which makes me :((( yk? (maybe you don't know and that's okay) but regulus was always supposed to die! he was never meant to make it out alive in this story so as far as any writing from me goes in the ahb! universe,, regulus will be dead

[eringobragh420]

🖤 Pairing — Damian Priest ♥︎ f!Reader ♥︎ Roman Reigns 🖤 Summary — Reader has been sleeping with both Damian and Roman Reigns, confident they’re ignorant of one another. After being invited to Damian's hotel room late one night, she discovers he’s not the only one she’s there to entertain. 🖤 Word Count — 2.4k 🛑 Warnings — NSFW. Oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v/a, anal, double penetration, praise, Daddy kink, name-calling, cum 18+ 🖤 Taglist — In the comments. If you’d like to be added, please click here! 🖤 Requested By — @bearbutlikeprincessbear. Hope you enjoy! 🖤 MASTERLIST, KINK LIST

When she first began sleeping with Roman Reigns, she never expected, had any interest, or even needed to seek out other suitors. Until Damian Priest came along at the club, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her to the dance floor where their bodies moved in synchronicity, their skin perspired, and he whispered the absolute filthiest things in her ear as she was grinding her hips into his. And so while entertaining Roman, she made the easy decision to also see Damian on the side. Nothing wrong with it—none of them were attached and none of them were interested in long-term relationships—so she never foresaw any issues, considering the Tribal Chief was on one brand and the Archer of Infamy was on another, which would give them no reason to ever cross paths. Unfortunately for her, she’d been so blinded by the all the fucking, she’d failed to consider the paid live events.

And so here she was, on her knees and elbows on a generic hotel bed with generic, scratchy hotel blankets under her. Her baby pink blazer and white satin tank top were heaps on the floor, matching mini-skirt bunched around her waist, panties in tatters around her thighs. Damian’s long cock buried itself in her tight cunt every few seconds, the momentum shoving her forward and impaling her throat further on Roman’s spit-covered, thick cock. She gagged, body convulsing, but she purred from the intrusion—on both ends—as her eyes rolled back and her cheeks hollowed.

“Fuck,” Damian wailed, hands vices on her hips. “Every time she gags, her cunt fuckin’ milks my dick.”

“You hear that, baby girl?” Roman rumbled. He was seated in front of her, back against the headboard, legs spread lewdly, a woman receiving the pounding of the century from behind slobbering all over his cock. She tilted her head so she could comfortably look up at him. “He likes it when you gag almost as much as I do.” Both his hands cradled the back of her skull as he pushed her down on his length once more, her entire being again contracting, and suddenly Damian wasn’t inside her anymore and she felt abandoned and empty and a little fucking pissed off. 

“Uh-uh,” the Puerto Rican refused. She pulled off Roman’s dick, however reluctantly, and glanced over her shoulder. Damian had backed up several steps and he had a hand virtually strangling his polished-with-pussy-juices cock. “If we’re gonna do this, we gotta do it now.”

Roman tenderly cupped her chin between his fingers and turned her face back to him. “You ready?”

She cast her gaze down at Roman’s weeping, rigid cock as he stroked it with a loose fist, and she bucked her hips and clenched her pussy around nothing. Roman’s chuckle was like thunder in the distance, and it did nothing to suppress her agitation or prevent the baby pterodactyls in her stomach from taking flight. She had no idea what awaited her, having never experienced before what was about to happen, but she couldn’t deny how bad she wanted to at least try it … to at least attempt to get both these impressive cocks inside her ass and pussy at the same time. And she couldn’t think of two better men to experience it with. Her blown pupils slowly lifted to meet Roman’s.

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered.

“Good,” Roman replied, before the declaration was even completely out of her mouth. He leaned forward so his fleshy lips grazed hers as he finished, “Because it’s this dick right here that’s goin’ in that ass.” He wiggled his cock for good measure, and it wasn’t very quiet when she gulped.

The men were fluid as they moved about the room, as if they’d practiced, as if maybe they’d done this before. Heading off any thoughts in that particular direction, she smiled as she climbed atop Damian. His grip was once again on her hips, and her hips throbbed and she might’ve winced a time or two when he squeezed, but she knew this pain paled in comparison to the new kind of pain that was in her immediate future. She sank torturously slowly onto his cock, her soaking pussy sucking him in deep much like her throat had with Roman’s dick.

“There she is,” Damian breathed, fingers gliding from her hip, tickling her belly, scraping a nipple barely peeking above the cup of the bra she still curiously wore, ending their journey at the back of her neck. He pulled her lips to his, capturing them, imprisoning them with his expert technique and unmatched ability to be both delicate and voracious simultaneously. A cold trickle slipped down the crack of her ass, her body froze, and she severed the kiss. Damian was quick to cradle her face and focus her attention on him and not the pain and discomfort about to befall her. Maybe you should stop thinking about it that way. Maybe it’s gonna feel amazing. It’s Damian and Roman, after all. “If you don’t wanna do this, we can stop right now,” Damian whispered, the tips of their noses kissing.

She gazed into his smoldering eyes, easily finding comfort and true sincerity, and her hand floated to his cheek. “I wanna do this,” she murmured.

Damian once more claimed her mouth while Roman’s finger circled her puckered hole, and it tickled and it was a little weird, but then it felt … good. Incredibly erotic, and her pussy gushed around Damian’s cock. He pumped in and out of her slowly, occupying her mouth and tongue, and before she knew it, Roman had three fingers buried in her asshole, and she was virtually screaming down Damian’s throat, rocking her hips to ride both his dick and Roman’s digits.

“Oh, your ass is ready for this cock, ain’t it?” Roman teased, easing his fingers out of her so he could slap her ass cheek with his length. “Cute little tattoo,” he uttered, now rubbing the leaking head along her sensitive skin, and she knew exactly where he was spreading his precum. She’d never even imagined a scenario where Roman and Damian randomly met at the hotel bar, shared a few drinks, and then a few stories about the women they were sleeping with only to discover those women had the exact same tattoo in the exact same spot, but here they were. “Let’s find out if it’s true, huh?” That hadn’t been the meaning behind the beautiful red script spelling out the word paradise on her right cheek, but she supposed it did seem appropriate now. She hoped, anyway.

She felt the fleshy head of his cock poke at her entrance and her hand left Damian’s face to instead dig her nails into his chest. She felt blood before she was without warning hauled backward, shoulders slamming into Roman’s sturdy chest, and she cried out as he slipped further into her passage. Roman was a true dominant, in and out of the ring, in and out of the bedroom, so it wasn’t very far fetched for her to expect to be degraded, at least a little, for not immediately being able to take his length, or for whining in pain as he pressed another inch inside her. His tattooed arm came into view, fingers applying surprisingly gentle pressure on her chin until she turned to him.

“You’re takin’ me so good,” he praised. Her eyes lifted, full of renewed hope,  determination, and pride. Compliments in a non-derisive way were few and far between, and she intended to bathe in the accolades for as long as possible. “I know it hurts, baby girl, but you’re a fuckin’ champion. You hear me? Our champion.” Her heart swelled and her fingers unconsciously slid down her body and directly into her dripping folds where she found her clit and, just a little further inward, the base of Damian’s glazed cock, the rest of which was still stuffed deeply inside her cunt. Damian grunted and squirmed, and her smile was drunk as she stared blankly at her Tribal Chief, hypnotized by Roman’s unusual softness. “See, that was nothin’.”

Snapping out of her reverie, she was overwhelmed by the sensation of being utterly full. Roman had genuinely mesmerized her with his words, with the bottomless pits that were his eyes, and he’d sheathed himself to the hilt in her ass without her noticing. Now fully aware, however, the burning returned, the splitting, and she whimpered, clawing at Roman’s arm now. Easily noticing her stress, Damian untangled her from the Samoan’s embrace and pulled her back down to him, cradling the back of her head and splaying a hand across her upper back.

“Right here,” he rumbled into her gaping mouth, “stay right here with Papi. You hear me?”

She nodded, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Damian’s soulful ones, and her lips collided with his before she knew it. He was her comfort, her weighted blanket, her favorite teddy bear, and the spell he cast on her through his lingering lips kept her mind occupied as Roman gripped her hips, pulled out, and shoved himself back in as if he were fucking her pussy. It hurt, bordering on agonizing, but Damian’s mouth was so perfect and gifted that it hurt just a little bit less, the three of them going on like this until she’d fully accepted Roman with an amount of pain that was both uncomfortable and pleasurable. 

“You love this, don’t you?” Roman panted. When she gave no answer, he snatched her hair and yanked, her lips releasing Damian’s with a wet smack.

“Yes, Daddy, I love it,” she breathed.

“Yeah, you do,” Roman mumbled. “Show me. Ride these dicks like the whore you are.”

Hands on the bed on either side of Damian, she rose until her elbows locked. Damian’s hands were coarse and callused as they traveled the invisible roads of her upper body, and she smiled down at him as she began gently rocking her hips, drawing the cocks within her ass and pussy as deep inside her as possible before releasing them to the cold air surrounding them, repeating the process until she couldn’t bounce fast enough on them. 

“That’s it,” Damian moaned, “just like that.”

“Shit, all you need is a cock for this mouth, huh?” Roman mocked, giant hand wrapping around her throat. “What you think about that, Priest? Plug up all this bitch’s holes.”

“Fuck,” Damian muttered, pinching and tugging at her nipples.

She screamed, jaw dropping, and Roman’s hand was swift in making the relocation from her neck to her face, long fingers dipping inside her mouth. Her lips automatically closed around his digits and her cheeks hollowed as she sucked because what else is a girl supposed to do when Roman Reigns sticks his fingers in her mouth?

Time went on, doused in a mixture of sweat, screams, desire, and the fundamental need to cum. Roman lost control first, hand between her shoulder blades, shoving her chest into Damian’s, and he leaned forward, most of his weight now on her hips and ass as he fucked into her recklessly. He cried out—she thought he was speaking Samoan, but she couldn’t be sure—releasing himself inside her, and his pumps became slower and less powerful until he pulled out altogether, slapping her tattoo once more with his softening dick.

“Y’all can … take care of that, right?” He had to be referring to the mess he’d just made that would eventually come leaking out of her. “I got somewhere to be.”

The relief alone she felt when only Damian was buried within her nearly sent her head first into an orgasm. It had been a wild moment, an experience she could check off her bucket list, but she’d be lying if she denied feeling a bit stressed at the thought of being responsible for pleasing two men. Of course it was a hot idea, but realistically, the logistics were a bit more muddled than she cared to deal with again. And, though she would never admit this to anyone, especially the two men involved, she preferred Damian and his attentiveness and his kindness and the gentle fucking he was famous for. Roman was the choice when she needed to be used or slapped around. Damian was the choice for everything else.

“We’ll take care of it,” Damian mumbled, and she smiled just as he seized her lips once more. 

She hardly registered the hotel room door opening and closing, Damian flipping their positions smoothly, putting her on her back and settling between her sticky thighs. Her hands glided reverently up his chest, squeezing his shoulders, continuing to his face.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, taking her hands off him one after the other, imprisoning them between his hands and the mattress on either side of her head, his grip secure, though not constricting.

“Yeah,” she purred, rolling her hips in an attempt to find some friction, and Damian grinned at her desperation. 

“But you need your special time with Papi, hmm?”

“I always need my special time with Papi.”

Finally he started fucking her, lazily at first, gradually picking up speed. She suddenly felt Roman’s warm cum begin leaking out of her ass and into a puddle on the bed, Damian’s thrusts now coming with a wet smack every time he slammed into her. She gasped, lips parting, pussy pulsating around Damian’s solid length, breasts bouncing, and she came with a wail she would be embarrassed over later. Her hands were fists as they wanted nothing more than to touch Damian, feel him, run her fingers through his hair, but he refused to release her until after he’d filled yet another one of her holes with sticky cream.

“You’re a mess,” Damian grinned, climbing out of bed. She couldn’t help the satiated smile and stretch as she watched Damian disappear into the bathroom, assuming he was on a mission to retrieve a wet washcloth. They were gonna need more than that, she thought, just as she heard the water in the tub come to life, and her smile nearly broke her mouth. “Now let’s get you cleaned up,” Damian returned, clapping his hands and holding them out. She rolled her eyes, moving into a sitting position, but Damian suddenly scooped her into his capable arms, tossing her an inch or two in the air to get a better grip. “I don’t think it’s big enough for both of us, but …”

“I guess you’ll just have to wash me from outside the tub then,” she sighed.

Damian kissed her forehead. “My pleasure.”

જ⁀➴°⋆ Papi — Daddy

[jinxziie]

hey yall! hopefullyy this is giving what some of u were askin forr! btw i love love love suggestions and ideas for builds so feel free to do so, it's v fun for me :D ♡ !!

def part 1 cus i wanna make more like this -tell me that side of the building wont make a nice background for some picss- cc needed for this linked downn below 30x20 unfurnished lot this apt is lowkey small but there is a lot of space for u to expand/add other units for more sims to live in the buildingg

the build doesn't come w the bedroom closet like mine but if u wanna add it the door is from here !

SFS as always any wcif or any issues lmk i will gladly helpp if u deco this build or any of my other builds pls tag me! ♡ ty cc creators ♡

some cc you will need for this specific build (other cc list included in folder)

✮ Suza landscaping

✮ Twinsimming Community Canvas Set (garage door)

✮ FlutterEyes Graffiti Tags

✮ Martassimbook Slox Expressway

✮ Martassimbook Slox Balcony

✮ Martassimbook Flirtyghoul Minimart Set

✮ Mari-Alison777 4t3 Garage Door

✮ Aikea-Guinea Silent Hill Graffiti (couldn't find a working link this is so old so i uploaded file myself)

✮ Teakoya Cigs Deco

✮BionicZombie 4t3 Mold & Grime Set

✮ Infamy 4t3 Mimoto Saw Graffiti

✮ NSB Wall Cracks

✮ ShinoKCR Loft Buildset 2story Column

**accidently forgot to change the ceilings**

♡ if ur a cc creator n u see dis pls can u bless w some more graffiti i literally cant find any others other than the ones i linked from like 10+ yrs ago n idk who to askkkk RAHHH ill luv u forever !!! ♡♡♡

[rollingsins]

all hers, part xiii

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue

summary: You deserve everything Ghostface is giving you, you know it deep down. Why should you live while the others died?

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of murder. Ghost face spoilers for Scream 1-4.

word count: 4.5k

a/n: 👀 smashed through my writers block, let me know your 🔪🔪 theories.

You haven’t left the car - or Tara’s lap - by the time the police arrive. 

Sam greets them, watches as they make their way through the house, casing for strewn pieces of clothing, discarded weapons, footprints, handprints, anything. 

But there’s nothing to find. Ghostface is long gone. 

By the time they’re done, your anxiety is at an all time high, not even Tara’s arms around you enough to quell the fear inside you. Your chest thumps uncomfortably. Your palms are shaky, sweaty. Flashes of the mask, the knife raised against you. 

Is this how Tara’s victims felt in the end? Is this how Wes felt? 

The only difference between you and Wes is you’d survived. And he’d died innocent while you survived, guilty. It isn’t fair. You deserve everything Ghostface is giving you, you know it deep down. Your will to live is selfish, almost. 

Why should you live while the others died?

The answer is pressed to your side. She’s beautiful, as ever, squeezing your hand so tight the tips of your fingers turn white. Her knee bounces steadily, an indication of her nerves. Her dark eyes are wild, flitting from you to the house to the officers on the lawn. Scanning, as if Ghostface will jump out at any moment. God help him if he does, when she’s like this. White-faced, quietly stewing in her own anger and anxiety. You can almost hear the cogs turning in her brain as she runs wild with the possibilities of who it could be. 

The police have questions, what feels like millions of them. The most pressing is why. Why would Ghostface target you specifically? Of course, you know why. 

You don’t mention the other victims. You don’t mention Tara’s Ghostface mask hidden in a lockbox in her closet. You don’t mention the motive Ghostface had all but spit into your face. 

Someone who thinks you should pay. 

Tara, a little on edge, tires very quickly of their incessant questions. 

“There’s never a why, do you even live in this town?” Tara barks, voice hot with annoyance, “They’re random. They’ve always been random.” 

“That’s not exactly true.” It’s Sheriff Hicks. She climbs out of her squad car, slips her gun into her holster as she stands. 

Your chest tightens. She makes you so nervous. You’re so scared one of these days you’ll slip, blurt out the truth before it’s too late.  

“Billy Loomis blamed Sidney for his mother abandoning him. Nancy Loomis blamed her for killing her son. Roman Bridger and Jill Roberts wanted infamy.” She surveys you, hand resting gently on her holstered pistol, “The question is: what does this Ghostface want?” 

The back of your neck prickles uncomfortably under her gaze. You sink deeper into Tara, wear her almost like a shield. 

“Forget his motive, what are you going to do about catching him?” Tara says, arm tight around your waist, “I want a squad car here 24/7. I want officers escorting YN to school. I want a walkie talkie and a phone number so we can have direct contact with them whenever we need-”

The thought of stepping foot into that house sends shockwaves of panic through your body. You grip her waist, tight, trying to draw her attention. 

“I can’t go back in there.” You say, voice tight, “Tara, I can’t stay here tonight. I can’t sleep here.” 

If Tara’s surprised by this, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she wraps her arms tight around your shoulder and presses a long kiss to your forehead.  

“Okay baby.” She says, “We’ll stay with your parents, how about that?”

“I can post a squad car.” Sheriff Hicks interjects, “Two officers. I’ll give you their cell numbers. I’m afraid we’re all out of walkie-talkies.”

She looks at you, for the first time in a long time there’s sympathy in her eyes, “You’re going to be okay.” She promises, “My officers are the very best. But you call me if you remember anything. Anything at all that could help.” 

The moment is interrupted by the sheen of blinding headlights. You avert your gaze, blink away the stars in your eyes at the sudden intrusion. 

It’s a familiar truck, the heavy slam of the door signals the driver has exited the vehicle. You squint, make out Richie’s figure as he rushes towards you. 

“Hey. I came here as fast as I could. Where’s Sam, is she okay?” He’s out of breath, a little panicked as he scans the driveway for his girlfriend. 

“Sam’s fine.” Tara says, her shoulders tight, “YN was attacked.” 

Richie blinks. 

“By Ghostface? Are you alright?” 

“Of course she’s not alright.” Snaps Tara, “Some psycho just attacked her at knifepoint.”

She pauses, as if something has just occurred to her. Suspicion brews in her eyes. 

“Where have you been?” 

Richie draws his attention back to her. The lights of the police sirens flash across his face. 

“I was meeting some friends at a bar,” Richie says, “Is Sam in the house?” 

“What friends? You got an alibi?” Tara asks, her eyebrows drawn tight. 

“You’re not serious?” Richie stares back at her. 

The Sheriff tilts her head, suddenly interested. 

“Do you?” She reiterates, “Tara and Sam are accounted for. We’ll need to corroborate with any potential witnesses who can place you at the bar.” 

Richie opens his mouth in disbelief. He looks between the three of you, waiting for the punchline. 

“I didn’t make it there. Sam called-”

The Sheriff hums, scribbles something down on her notepad. 

“So no alibi.” Tara scoffs, “You’ve been here two weeks and the one night you go out, YN gets attacked.” 

“This is ridiculous.” Richie splutters, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, “Tara. Why would I attack YN? I have no motive.” 

But Tara’s mind is made up, she crosses her arms, glares at the Sheriff. 

“Are you going to arrest him or what?”

“Tara. I can’t just arrest people.” The Sheriff says, closing her notebook. She looks at Richie, “I suggest you outline to one of my officers the exact route you took to and from the bar. If we can place you on CCTV we can rule you out as a suspect.” 

“You can’t arrest people?” Tara challenges. There’s that fire, the one that’s been brewing for the last hour, finally emerging, “What kind of a Sheriff are you?”

“Tara.” You hiss. You turn back to the Sheriff, eyes wide, “I am so sorry, Sheriff, she’s just scared-”

“Scared?” Tara says, sounding outraged. Her dark eyes burn, “I’m furious. I have a prime suspect for you and you won’t arrest him-”

“Just because you don’t like me doesn’t mean I put on a Ghostface mask and tried to kill your girlfriend.” Richie argues, loudly. 

“What’s going on?” It’s Sam, finally emerging from the house. Richie and Tara both turn to face her, matching expressions of outrage on their faces. 

“What’s going on? Your creep of a boyfriend just tried to murder my girlfriend.” Tara snarls. 

Richie throws his hands up. 

“Why? Why would I want to kill her?”

“I don’t know.” Tara says, “You tell me. Because you’re twisted?”

“You know what,” Richie says, his nostrils flaring. He points his finger at her, “It definitely wasn’t me, because if I was going to murder anyone, it would be you-”

“Stop it!” Sam yells, “Both of you. God. You’re like fucking children.” 

They both fall silent. Glare at each other. Sam storms off, presumably back into the house. With a final dirty look at Tara, Richie turns and follows her inside. 

You take Tara’s hand, rub your fingers over the back of her hand reassuringly. Richie is a little strange, granted, but you seriously doubt he’d try and kill you. You’ll talk her down later tonight, you figure. Right now; you want out of here. 

“Do you have any more questions, Sheriff?” You ask, quietly hoping the answer is no, “I need to call my Dad.”

She surveys you for a moment. 

“I think we’re all good here.” She says, finally, “Call me if you remember anything.” 

-

Your Dad is freaked, rightfully so. 

In a panic, he demands you come home. He seems to be so frightened he doesn’t even protest when you tell him Tara’s coming too. 

She’s still glaring at Richie as she pulls out of the driveway, leaving the slew of officers and sirens behind as she makes her way to your parents home. One hand on the wheel, the other gripping your thigh, tight. 

“It’s him, I know it’s him.” She stews, hands tightening on the wheel, “How fucking suspicious can he be. Meeting with some friends, my ass.” 

“We don’t know that, babe.” You say, squeezing her hand, “He’s kind of right - what’s his motive? As far as I know we haven’t done anything to offend him.” 

“I’ve been on his ass since he got here.” Tara says, “Maybe he’s sick of me. Of us.” 

“Or maybe it’s someone else.” You say, staring out the window, “Someone related to the others. Sadie has a brother, I think. One of Aaron’s friends? One of Chase’s?”

There’s a long list of people who would want vengeance on the two of you. It hurts your head to think about. 

“Cool it on Richie, please babe. If he is Ghostface, the last thing we need is him getting spooked.”

“I need to get him away from Sam,” She says, chewing her bottom lip, “If he hurts her-”

“We don’t know it’s him, babe.” You say, pressing your hand over Tara’s, rub the back of her knuckles, “Besides, if he is Ghostface, he’s not going to kill her. His beef is with us.”

It doesn’t calm her down. Her knee is still bouncing when she pulls into your parents driveway, grip around thigh so tight it’s starting to hurt. She shuts off the car and presses a kiss to the back of your hand. 

“I’ll figure it out, don’t worry baby.” She says, voice heavy. Despite the comfort she’s trying to give you, her eyes betray her. Brown, wide, swimming with worry, “No one’s going to hurt you, I promise. I’m not taking my eyes off you. You’re not going anywhere alone, I mean it. You’ll have to get used to me watching you pee.” 

You half think she’s kidding, until she follows you upstairs and into the bathroom. 

“Absolutely not.” You say, pressing your hand to her chest and pressing a kiss to her lips, “Wait here.”

“But-”

“Ghostface isn’t hiding in the bathtub, babe.” You tell her, and close the door behind you. 

You pause. Check the bathtub just in case. 

Your parents make a fuss, like you knew they would. Your mom rushes off to comfort cook, something she does best, and your Dad gets his power tools out, triple checks all the windows and doors for any shaky locks. 

If he minds Tara staying the night, he doesn’t say it. Instead, he hovers at the bedroom door, eyeing her up as he reiterates his safety mechanisms. 

“Keep the door locked,” He says, voice gruff as you climb onto the bed, next to Tara, “At all times. Front and back. I have a security specialist coming in tomorrow to install some cameras and alarms.” 

“Thanks Dad.” You say. It takes the weight of your chest, just a little. 

“I’ve got my shotgun loaded and ready to go,” He continues, “If you hear anything- anything at all - just call out and I’ll be here in a moment.” 

“Do you have a spare?” Tara asks suddenly, “Gun, that is? I’ll be a little closer, is all.” 

He watches her for a moment. That expression is on his face - the one he always wears when he sees Tara. Mild distaste, like he’s just taken a bite of something that’s gone bad. Briefly, you worry he’s going to try to kick her out. 

“I can’t give a gun to a kid.” He says, voice curt. Her brows furrow. 

“This kid might be the only person who’s able to protect her in time.” Tara challenges, “You’re all the way across the hall. What if he covers her mouth so she can’t cry out?”

“Babe.” You warn, “It’s fine. We’ll be fine.” 

Your Dad shifts his weight, staring Tara down. You know he doesn’t like her, it’s written all over his face. But if she goes, so do you. And he understands that, you know he does. 

“I have a handgun.” He says, finally. He looks at you, “I’ll give it to YN. Remember those lessons down at the cabin? You’re confident you know how to use it?” 

You nod. 

When you were younger, your Dad had taken you shooting, taught you how to fire a gun, how to load it - and most importantly, how not to hurt yourself doing it. The thought of drawing out a gun to protect Tara from Ghostface’s knife makes you feel only the slightest bit better. 

He looks back to Tara. The distaste is back in his expression. 

“It’s for her. You’re not to touch it. Understand?”

You can feel Tara fizzling next to you. Her fingers curl, and before she can give your Dad the dressing down you know she so desperately wants to give, you jump in. 

“She understands.” You say quickly, “Thanks Dad.”

“I don’t know what his problem is,” Tara complains, stormy-eyed, when he finally leaves, “I’m just trying to protect you.” 

“He’s just being a Dad,” You say, pulling her into your arms and quelling her mood with a kiss, “Don’t take it personally.”

Dinner’s awkward. 

Your head is a mess, heart pounding out of your chest every time you think of the looming threat. Tara grips your thigh under the table protectively, as if she’s afraid Ghostface might launch in any second and send the roast laid out on the table flying. 

Your Dad glares at Tara. Tara glares back at him. Your mom stares at you, worry in her eyes. 

You stare down at your plate, your appetite somewhat dissipated. 

“I just don’t understand.” Your mom says for what seems like the hundredth time this evening, “What does he want with you?”

“What does he want with any of them?” You mumble, “He’s a psycho, that’s all.” 

You push a rogue potato around your plate, starting to regret the choice to come home. At least Sam’s questions were easily combatted by one of Tara’s swiftly timed jabs. You could hardly expect Tara to snap at your Mom. 

“Let’s not talk about it.” Your Dad says, to your relief, “You’re freaking her out.” 

“I’m just saying,” Says your Mom, chewing her lip, “Are we sure he was there… for you?”

She lets it hang. The scrape of cutlery against plates stops momentarily, as the entire table takes in the implication. You frown, look up at your Mom. 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing.” She says, hurriedly. You don’t miss the glance she sneaks at Tara. 

“Seriously?” You say, “You’re blaming Tara?”

“I’m not blaming anyone.” She says quickly, “I’m just saying-”

“Well, don’t.” You snap, standing up, “God. Tell me now if you don’t want us here and we’ll go.” 

“Of course we want you here.” Your Mom says, “YN, sit down, please sweetheart-”

“I’m not hungry.” You say, scooting yourself away from the table, “Thanks anyway. Come on, babe, let’s go to bed.” 

They don’t protest as you lead Tara upstairs and into your bedroom. You slip your pants off, curl up into bed, take Tara in your arms. 

“Your Mom’s right, you know.” She says, after a quiet moment, “None of this would be happening if it weren’t for me.” 

“Don’t say that.” You murmur. You press a kiss to her head, wrap your arms a little tighter around her. 

“It’s true.” 

It is true. But she doesn’t need to think that, not right now. You curl your fingers through her dark hair, scratch her scalp affectionately. 

“You-” You hesitate, picking your words carefully, “You’ve made some mistakes. But that’s in the past now. You turned over a new leaf, remember?”

You remember it vividly. The night after Amber’s death, making her swear black and blue she’d never kill again. Promising her she’d never have a reason. She shifts in your arms and looks up at you. There’s something in her eyes. Fear. Hesitance. 

“Baby,” She says, biting her lip, “Whoever this person is. I have to kill him. You know that, right?”

Your stomach flips. 

“No.” You say immediately, “No, Tara.”

“If he’s alive, he’ll hurt you. You know I can’t let that happen. We can’t turn him in, he knows too much. It’s the only way.” 

That sinking feeling is back. The one that had been there when Chase died. The one after Amber and the one after Wes. Like everything is crumbling around you. You squeeze her a little tighter. 

“I’ll do it.” You say. The thought makes you sick. The thought of her doing it makes you sicker. 

“No, baby.” Tara says. She presses a kiss to your shoulder, “Not after last time. Look at what Wes did to you.”

“I don’t care.” You say, shaking your head, “I don't want you doing it. You can’t-” 

Be trusted, is what you want to say. The Rage is terrifying, violent, and you don’t want to reawaken it. You hold it back, pull her closer to you. 

“I don’t want that part of you back. I don’t like that part of you.” 

Tara’s quiet a moment. 

“It’s already back, babe.” She says, pulls your hand to her chest. Her heartbeat is wild, out of control, “Don’t you see? It isn’t killing that prompts it. It’s anybody trying to get to you.”

You’re too tired to fight. Too tired to admit she might be right. At the end of the day if it’s her or him, you know what you’d rather her do. 

You lean down, press your lips to hers, try to redirect the conversation. 

“You will sleep tonight, right?” 

“Not likely.” She admits, her grip on your hips tightening. 

“Let’s take it in shifts.” You suggest, pressing a kiss to the side of her head, “Half and half so we both get some sleep.” 

She nuzzles her nose into the side of your neck. 

“Okay. I’ll take first watch.”

She looks towards the handgun your Dad left for you on the bedside table, tugs it carefully over to her side of the bed. 

“You know how to use that?” You ask, a little skeptical, “You know to turn the safety off?” 

“Yes babe, I know how to use a gun.” She assures, a little irritated you asked. 

“Alright, alright. Just checking. The last thing I need is you shooting yourself in the foot.” 

“Give me some credit,” She grumbles, “That’s something Chad would do.” 

You kiss her, softly, then snuggle down into her chest. Listen to the rise and fall of her breathing, her rampant, crazed heartbeat as it pumps in her chest. 

“Remember to wake me.” 

-

She doesn’t wake you, as you should have predicated. When you open your eyes it’s the next morning, and she’s pressing a warm kiss to your lips. 

You scrunch your eyes, blink her into view. 

“Babe? Did you stay up the whole night?” She kisses your forehead, nudges a warm cup of coffee into your hands. 

“I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway. There was no point in me waking you.” 

“Baby.” You groan. Her eyes are red, tired. You press your hands to her cheeks, lean up to kiss her. 

“You’re exhausted.” 

“I’ll nap in science.” She promises, “Mrs. Fletcher is enough to put anyone to sleep. Besides. I needed to make sure you were safe.” 

She kisses you again.

“Speaking of: I asked Chad and Liv to stop by with a few supplies.” 

She reaches for a paper bag, empties out the contents onto your mattress. You sit up, interest piqued. 

It’s nothing less of an armory. You blink, hold up a small metal device. 

“A rape whistle and a taser?” You say, “Babe, how am I supposed to take this into school?”

“Keep them in your purse.” Tara says, as if it’s a perfectly reasonable request, “It’s not like they check our bags. It’s for emergencies.”

She presses a long kiss to your forehead, “But you won’t need them. I’m not leaving your side. Not for a minute.” 

“I have Chem today,” You say, heavily, “And you have English. We can’t be together all the time, Tara.” 

“We’re skipping.” Tara says, “I’m taking you home early.” 

“Tara, if the school calls my Dad and he finds out I’m skipping classes-”

“He’ll do nothing.” Tara says, fire behind her eyes, “You’re eighteen, he can’t force you home with him. And if he tries then I’ll-”

“You’re not killing my Dad.” You say, firmly. She pouts a little. 

“That isn’t what I was going to say,” She says, a little put out, “I’d give him a piece of my mind, is all.” 

You sit up, pull her into you. 

“Sorry, babe.” You apologize, soothe her with a kiss, “I’m just a little on edge.” 

“It’s fine,” She reassures, “Just please keep these on you. Please.” 

You agree for her sake. 

-

Word gets out quick. 

People stare in the hallways, everyone trying to get a glimpse of Ghostface’s latest victim. It’s unsettling, this much attention. You grip Tara’s hand tight in yours and try to ignore the leering of the other students as she walks you to your locker. 

When you reach it, Mindy, Chad and Liv are waiting for you. 

“Is it true you saw him?” Chad asks, wide-eyed. 

“Is it true he stabbed you?” Liv asks. 

You shoot her a look, open your locker and grab your books for first period. 

“Does it look like he stabbed me, Liv?” You ask, witheringly. 

“Give her some space guys,” Tara says, pushing Liv back slightly, “She’s not a zoo animal.” 

“Still.” Mindy says, “You survived a brush with Ghostface. Not many people can say that.” 

You ignore the hot flash of dread that zaps through you at the mention of him. He could be anyone. Maybe he’s even here now, watching you. Waiting to get you alone. It must flash through your face because suddenly Tara’s hands are on your waist, rubbing your back reassuringly.

“She doesn’t want to talk about it.” Tara says, a little protectively, “Why don’t we meet you guys in Math.” 

“Come on.” Mindy says, “Not talking about him gives him power. You don’t know who it is, right? Maybe we can help you figure it out.” 

“Maybe it’s you, Mindy.” Liv says, voice sweet, “After all, you’re obsessed with horror movies.” 

Mindy looks over, sharply. 

“What kind of motive is that?” She says, annoyed, “Besides, I’m not the only one who likes horror movies. Tara does too. Maybe even more than me.” 

“So Tara attacked her own girlfriend, that’s your theory?” Chad says, incredulous. 

Mindy shrugs, “It’s happened before.” 

She turns to you. 

“YN, ever get the feeling like Tara wants to kill you?”

“I’m going to kill you in a minute,” Tara growls. 

“Yeah.” Mindy nods, like her theory is confirmed, “Major Ghostface vibes.” 

“Stop it,” You say, reaching for your Math textbook, “Tara didn’t attack me, she was with Sam. And I’d really rather not talk about it.”

Mindy’s shoulders deflate a little. 

“Wes likes horror movies too.” Liv pipes up, “Maybe that’s why he ran away. He wanted us all to think he was dead so he could live his true life as Ghostface.” 

You roll your eyes. Let them bicker. As you grab your final textbook your finger catches on something soft. Something you didn’t put there. 

It’s a t-shirt, worn, gray, ACDC logo on the front. Your fingers curl around it, brows furrowing. Something hard is within the fabric. You fish it out, turn the cool plastic in your hand. It’s a DVD. Stab 2. Your stomach flips.

You slam your locker shut, white as a sheet. It draws the attention of the entire group. You feel a little dizzy, like you might pass out. Someone had been in your locker. It feels more of a violation than it should. Tara straightens, grips your hand. 

“What’s wrong, babe?” She asks immediately. 

“Bathroom.” You mumble. 

You don’t say goodbye to Tara’s friends. You tug her behind you hard and fast, not sure how much longer you’ll be able to stand upright. 

When you reach the bathroom, you slam the door closed, fish out the t-shirt and thrust it towards Tara. 

“What’s this?” She looks confused. Flips the t-shirt in her hands. 

“It’s Wes’,” You say. You take a heavy breath, try to quell the blood rushing to your ears. 

Tara swallows. Her fingers brush the DVD. 

“Stab 2.” She says, furrowing her brows, “What is this supposed to mean?” 

“I don’t know.’ You say, biting your lip, “Nothing good. How did he get into my locker?” 

“The school has cameras.” Tara says, thinking fast, “If I can get into the security feed I might be able to see who it was.” 

“How are you going to do that?” You ask,  

She bites her lip. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Please don’t get yourself in trouble,” You say, reaching for her hand. You entwine your fingers, “The last thing I need is you getting kicked out of school.” 

“I’ll be careful.” She promises. Dips down to kiss you. 

Then, she retracts, tosses the t-shirt and DVD in the trash. 

“Tara. What are you doing? What if we need that?” 

“We don’t need it, babe.” Tara assures, “Ghostface is trying to fuck with us, that’s all. Besides, the last thing we need is for the Sheriff to catch us with Wes’ old t-shirt and one of his movies.”

She pulls you in again, holds you tight. 

“Are you going to be okay in class?”

You nod, drop your forehead to her neck. Wrap your arms around her waist. Your hand catches on something in the back pocket of her jeans. You furrow your brow, then tug it out. 

“Tara!” You hiss,  mouth dropping, “You brought a knife to school?”

Tara blinks back at you. 

“Of course I did.” She says, “There’s some lunatic running around. You really thought I wouldn’t come prepared?” 

“Baby, if one of the teachers catches you with this-”

“I have it hidden.” She assures, “They’ll never see it. How am I supposed to protect you if I don’t have a weapon?”

You're more concerned with protecting her. There’s a horrible niggling feeling in the pit of your stomach. Like Ghostface has been a little too easy on her so far. The knife in her hand gives you only the slightest reprieve. 

“Let’s go to class.” She says, with a kiss to your cheek, “Do you have your rape whistle?”

You shoot her a look, tug at the string around your neck. She’d insisted you wear it at all times. 

“Right here, babe.” 

“Good girl.” She kisses you once more. 

Your fingers curl around the taser in your back pocket. Slip your phone into your backpack and head to class, Tara’s fingers entwined with your own. 

You take a deep breath. You're in school. In the middle of the day. Hundreds of students around.

Whoever Ghostface is, he wouldn't be so stupid to attack you in broad daylight.

Right?

next part

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Exhibitionism

Dabi first started doing cam shows mostly as a joke. He didn't think that anyone would actually tune in, and some friends of his that are sex workers told him that kind of work was more reliable than arson jobs, though they kept their ears out for him on that front. He said that he couldn't risk getting an infection and not two weeks later they hooked him up with one of their hand-me-down laptops and a SD webcam along with an account they'd set up in his name. Try it once, they'd said. His look is so unique and his voice is exactly the kind of thing that other people will be interested in. The fact it had not only worked, but he had gotten off harder than he had in his entire life told him that he was absolutely fucked and that he wasn't going to be able to just stop like he'd thought. He'd started doing the cam shows, and soon got enough money to turn that into his primary source of income, and in a matter of months, enough that he was able to get a better camera, have an apartment of his own, stay healthy, survive. Things were good. 

He had been intrigued when he was reached out to on his profile asking him if he had ever considered putting on a live event. Dabi had planned on dismissing that out of hand, but the account that reached out proclaimed to be the official one for some big, well-regarded sex club in Kamino. After a little back and forth with the owner, a man named Tomura Shigaraki, they set his compensation, a date, and finalized the rest of his details. 

And the first time he had been there, in a gaudy red room with a wall of mirrored glass between him and the crowd of people who had shown up to watch him, Dabi had been floating so high afterward that he had a hard time focusing at all when Shigaraki came in after the show to check in. Thankfully, the other man was a practiced dom in and out of the club and he had just made sure that Dabi had water, a snack, and enough blankets to stop shivering until he came all the way down from the high. And when Dabi was sane again and he got his cut of ticket sales and the base fee they'd agreed to, he had been more than enticed to come back to V for a few more sessions. 

It took about seven before the flirting that had been a low simmer between he and Duster had gotten hot enough that he asked if the club owner would partner with him for one of the shows. That first time lived in infamy because it was the only time that Dabi had managed to cum five times in a single session, and he'd been sobbing at the end of it. So that became a bit more frequent as well, though they always kept things very professional outside of the red room. Not like Dabi was dreaming of the next time he could hop on Shig's dick day and night or anything. 

He wonders if it would be as good if he didn't know that there were so many eyes on them as Shigaraki holds him on the bed. They're facing the mirrored window, his back to Tomura's chest, hips framed by Shigaraki's legs, his arms tied behind him as his temporary dom touches him. A tremble goes through his skin as he does, reaching between his legs to spread him open, ignoring his cock that is already achingly full and choked with a cock plug that is stretching his insides and holding his pleasure tight behind his head. 

"Look at that, your pretty pussy is already dripping." Tomura's voice is low in his ear as he rubs his fingers over Dabi's hole, already soaked with lube from preparing for this session. "You can't help it, can you? Such a needy attention whore."

Dabi whines, "Like it when you show me off, Daddy." 

"I know you do, princess." Tomura presses a kiss to his cheek and then he reaches for the length of seven black anal beads that's waiting for them on the bed. "Now let's show everyone just how greedy your messy cunt is." The first bulb isn't that big, but the sensation of the solid silicone being pushed inside is nice. It's not the thing that has him moaning though. It's Tomura murmuring, "That's it, I'm going to stuff you full, and when we're finished, I'm going to pull them all out and show everyone how wide you're stretched. They're going to see all the way inside of you, princess, and they're all going to be so jealous that I'm the one who gets to paint your walls with cum." Dabi trembles in the other's embrace, his cock aching sharply from being plugged as Tomura pairs the words with pushing the second bead inside of him, nearly double the size of the first. He can see them in the mirror, but Dabi doesn't care about that. He just looks because he knows that beyond the thin barrier, there are people watching him as hungrily as his hole is opening up for the beads. Hotter just because he likes to put on a show and because he knows that he and Shigaraki always put on the best.

[jasminewalkerauthor]

Deep dives into folklore: Roman emperors

The history of Rome, marked by conquests, intrigues, and cultural achievements, unfolds through the lives and reigns of its emperors. This deep dive essay explores the evolution of Roman emperors, from the establishment of the Principate to the decline of the Western Roman Empire, examining their diverse personalities, accomplishments, and the enduring impact of their rule.

I. The Principate: Birth of Imperial Rule

The transition from the Roman Republic to the Principate marked a seismic shift in Roman governance. Augustus, the first Emperor, set the tone for the future by combining political acumen with military prowess. His reign witnessed the Pax Romana, a period of relative peace and stability, laying the foundation for the expansive Roman Empire. Augustus established a new political order, balancing the facade of Republican institutions with autocratic power, setting a precedent for future emperors.

II. The Julio-Claudian Dynasty: From Glory to Infamy

The emperors of the Julio-Claudian dynasty, including Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius, and Nero, brought both grandeur and infamy to the Roman Empire. Tiberius, known for his reclusive rule, set the stage for the unpredictable reign of Caligula, whose excesses and cruelty earned him a notorious legacy. Claudius, often underestimated, contributed to imperial stability, while Nero's tyrannical rule marked a tumultuous end to the dynasty. The Julio-Claudians encapsulate the complexities of imperial rule, oscillating between enlightened governance and capricious tyranny.

III. The Five Good Emperors: Peak of Imperial Stability

The second century AD saw a period of relative stability and prosperity under the Five Good Emperors—Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian, Antoninus Pius, and Marcus Aurelius. This era is characterized by wise and competent rulers who prioritized the well-being of the Empire. Trajan expanded Roman territory, Hadrian focused on fortifying borders, and Marcus Aurelius, a philosopher-king, grappled with the challenges of external threats and internal strife. This period exemplifies the potential of enlightened rule within the Roman Empire.

IV. Crisis and Decline: The Third Century Crisis

The third century witnessed a series of challenges, often referred to as the "Crisis of the Third Century," marked by economic decline, military upheavals, and a succession of short-lived emperors. The Severan dynasty, which included emperors like Septimius Severus and Caracalla, attempted to restore stability, but the challenges persisted. The fragmentation of the Empire and the rise of soldier-emperors exemplify a turbulent era, foreshadowing the decline of the Western Roman Empire.

V. Constantine the Great: A Shifting Capital and Christianization

The reign of Constantine the Great marks a pivotal moment in Roman history. His establishment of Constantinople as the new capital reflected the shifting power dynamics within the Empire. Additionally, Constantine's embrace of Christianity and the Edict of Milan in 313 AD marked a significant departure from traditional Roman religious practices, setting the stage for the Christianization of the Roman Empire.

VI. The Fall of the Western Roman Empire: End of an Era

The decline and fall of the Western Roman Empire in 476 AD marked the end of classical antiquity. A series of factors, including economic decline, military challenges, and external invasions, culminated in the deposition of the last Roman emperor, Romulus Augustulus, by the Germanic chieftain Odoacer. The fall of the Western Roman Empire had profound and lasting consequences, shaping the course of European history.

The lives and legacies of Roman emperors form a complex and multifaceted tapestry that spans centuries of political, military, and cultural developments. From the establishment of the Principate to the decline of the Western Roman Empire, the emperors played pivotal roles in shaping the destiny of Rome. Their stories, marked by triumphs and tribulations, continue to resonate as a testament to the enduring complexities of leadership and the rise and fall of great civilizations.

[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!

@kik51199 @banannie255 @paracetamollvrr @honeyshifts @simonsblueee @suspirian @likeficsinthewnd @hollyismentallyillhelpp @ouuwitchywoman @michaelfuckinglangdon  @hannahdinse8 @thikkiesixx @lonesome-dovee @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @eriseffigyy @kriffingstars  @laurathefahrradsatteltel @munsinss @secularlunarsorceressss @angelofthorrr @eddiemunsonsbedroom @justiceiswater @divadinag @boomhauer @br0ck-eddiee  @fridamosss @nitafromtheshadowss @sammararaven  @bambipowerblueadditionueaddtion @trixyvixx @bimbobaggins69 @sillypurplemurplee @sunnyhoney420 @sugar-bears-smile @hellfires-harlot @eddiemunson95 @atatiannah444 @big-ope-vibes @irrelevantwriter @angelbabytouch-blog @

[wowowwild]

I asked for 20 but I also want to ask about 21! I love fic recs.

21. Did you ever read fanfictions? Which one is your personal recommendation?

Sorry it took so long! It took me a while to get everything in order, but here it is.

So fun fact: Whenever I read a fic I love I book mark it with the note j'adore so I can read it again later. Some of them get this note preemptively. I also tend to go through a tag on ao3 in date posted ascending order so I start with the oldest and work my way forward so I don't potentially miss anything, but I haven't made it all the way through some tags that I would like to. If there's a fic you think I would like that's not on here, I probably just haven't gotten to it yet! (Most of the newer ones on here I found through Tumblr.)

Also! I'm pretty sure any of the ones that involve smut I have marked as such, but please check the tags on the actual fic before reading! I am not responsible for what content you choose to consume!

That being said, here is Ace's All Time Best Fic Rec List (AATBFRL for short):

Nobody Can Just Say What They Mean (Series)- The first fic is Narumitsu and the second is Klapollo and I think about them allllll the time, especially Things Are As They Are altered me on a microscopic level. Rocks are just rocks, you know? (Narumitsu, Klapollo)

undeniable you (the currents pulling me onward)- Idk what to say. Kristoph Gavin dies in prison and Klavier is suspect #1. Apollo flies back to defend him and yaoi happens. I'm a sucker for Klav getting all scrungled up.

fame vs infamy (the price of writing fanfic out of spite)- It's a crack fic. It's funny. 10/10 would recommend. (Klapollo)

The Definition Of Home- And there was only one bed?!?!?!?!?! What?!?!?!?! And there was a little angst in the bed?!?!?!?!?! Unbelievable. Actually the angst was on the couch, the bed made it better. (Klapollo)

13 Hours- This fic keeps popping up in my fever dreams. I'm not even kidding. I didn't have it bookmarked the first time around but when I found it again, I was like 'oh, I know this one! It haunts my dreams!' and immediately slapped a j'adore on it. Airport Klapollo getting together.

Dig Enough Graves- This one is still being put out, it's a Klapollo roleswap and I love it. I get so excited when I see it's updated. So many things are happening and we have clues and I'm gonna figure it out, ok? *boston accent* I'm sleuthin 'ere! (rated M for violence and sex reasons)

stop the presses (series)- V funny. Apollo works as a columnist and writes thirst essays about KlavGav and gets a date out of it. I am very impressed with the coding used to make this look the way it does.

And if my wishes could all come true- I have reread this one a couple times. I think about it a lot. It is genuinely so funny and makes me feel all sorts of things. I love pre-relationship klapollo divorce complete with alimony while they were not not dating but actually not dating, Apollo you can't just assume that.

Nothing Like This Feeling- Apollo top suregery fic with a dash of Klapollo!

Turnabout Dishwasher- For when you get the hankering for a 422.6k work of art. It's like three fics in one that happen concurrently, which doesn't sound like a description that makes sense unless you read it. There are so many characters here, and shipping is part of it but it's also a whole lot of everything else. These characters are actually living and you get to take a look see. (klapollo, blackmadhi, wrightworth, look just read the tags on the fic there's so much going on)

Such Terrible Tales- A gorgeous magic filled AU with a focus on the casts of aa5 and aa6 and fun cameos from Investigations (so far). This fic is still on going and I would def recommend reading it as it comes out! I love trying to figure out the lore and what will happen next! This fic kind of pulls me off my hinges lol. (blackmadhi)

You Wear Stripes, Too?- Apollo and Klav come out to each other as trans and nb respectively.

Things Best Shared- Klav teaches Apollo guitar.

For A Bad Time Call Simon Blackquill- Iconic blackmadhi fic. I think about it all the time. V funny fake dating au with bits of angst.

Last Resort- And they were roommates! Blackmadhi roommates with lots of healing and shenanigans.

Dating for a Turnabout- Narumitsu fake dating for a case. Larry is there doing Larry things. Franziska did it to them bc she is very smart and cool.

Vacation All I Ever Wanted- I think about this sooooooo much. Tagline: One condo. Six lawyers. Seven secret plans. What could possibly go wrong? (klapollo, narumitsu, athena blackquill and trucy are there)

Alternative Dispute Resolution- Apollo makes Klavier talk to Mr. Wright before they can start dating. It's awkward (and funny) and Trucy is a delight.

Turn(about) my words- The fic where I realized I instinctively start laughing when someone gets shot. He's fine. uhhh narumitsu, phoenix got shot of course bc why wouldn't he and found family stuff.

You're Alive (And that's the only thing that truly matters.)- Klavier gets poisoned and Edgeworth tells the nurses Apollo is his partner so he can get in to see him. Turns out I don't laugh at poisonings, only shootings.

Dog Days- Apollo and Trucy go to another Gavinners concert and Polly misinterprets everything all the time.

Reckless Endangerment- One of the funniest klapollo get togethers. Pollo insults him real good while he's standing behind him, klav thinks about going abroad to study, phoenix has prosecutor going abroad ptsd, apollo might actually be into the gavinners, or at least the titular member.

Good Advice- Klavier Gavin makes categorically bad decisions in the face of love. (klapollo)

Hot For Justice- klavgav gets a muse, guess who?

Rules for Dating a Rockstar Prosecutor- klapollo first date that literally everyone is more invested in than Apollo (until he actually goes).

The Things We Do For Gym Access- Fake dating so Apollo can use the gym at Klav's place until the one he normally goes to gets fixed. Except they're actually really into each other and it's killing me everyday it's killing me I'm dead I'm dying they're so dense and in love and can't figure out why they haven't been caught and it's bc they actually feel like that and on top of pretend dating are pretending to date each other to themselves just kiss istg. Rated Explicit for sexual reasons.

The Walk to Tomorrow- Narumitsu doing Narumitsu things.

Legal Partners- Oooooooo this one! I also think about this one a lot. Narumitsu and klapollo and everyone is idiots they're all idiots. Klav and Edgeworth make a stupid, stupid bet about who has the more meaningful connection with their preferred defense attorney. I love this type of fic.

Turnabout Rubesville- Edgeworth gets accused of murder in a small town bc he's a grump. Phoenix sorts it out.

You Ever Been In Love?- Everyone gets way too involved in making Wrightworth happen, and it goes horribly until it goes right.

Gravity- Rated Explicit for sex reasons. Tbh I really like the oc. She's real cool. def read the tags for trigger warnings. (klapollo)

The soul truth (and nothing but the truth)- Franmaya! There's some spirit medium shenanigans and Lang is a bro.

Exorcism- Klapollo AU aa4 rewrite Kitty is a doll I love her these boys are unhinged look they have a conspiracy closet ok? Rated E for sex reasons.

Play Your Cards Right- Narumitsu agree to go on a date and shake hands about it. Rated E for sex reasons.

Hostile Environments (Series)- Justquill Shenanigans

satisfaction brought him back- Justquill Simon gets turned into a cat. I love fics where someone gets turned into a cat. There aren't a lot but it is a trope I enjoy. I've def read this one a couple times.

Stripped- Klapollo impending. Apollo is also secretly a stripper. Idk if this fic will ever get finished but I liked everything in it.

Curiosity Created the Cat- Klapollo impending. Also not finished and maybe never will be and only 3 chapters but in this one Klav gets turned into a cat. I'm sorry.

if it's really me you seek- Klapollo. I'm just going to post the official summary bc I j'ador'ed it but I don't remember exactly which one this is: Or, when Apollo comes home from Khura'in only to learn that Prosecutor Gavin is avoiding him, the last thing he expected was for Gavin to offer to let Apollo stay at his house while he looks for a new apartment.

As of right now this is everything in my bookmarks that I've read, I think you can figure out my favorite ship lol.

[abovedivinity]

@biitchcakes gets a thing

"I must confess, I hardly see what the issue is." Only the slightest hint of a grimace is visible on his expressions as he examines the office, index finger dragging over a file cabinet to check for the amount of dust. "I thought you Avengers were all about turning over a new leaf."

[flightlessribbons]

Switch games, changed lore

SWSH

Gloria and Victor start traveling together after the first gym challenge when Hop begins to set out on his own.

An online show hosted by twin celebrities Castiel and Brant (renamed Shielbert and Swordward) is popular and well watched throughout Galar. Throughout the main story, their episodes and hosts begin to get weirder as they make up stories and rights of their lineage, but their loyal fan base only grows and defends the twins to no end. The show, even if its infamy, gets more popular as the main story goes on.

Rose is a puppet to the twins, as they use Rose to awaken Eternatus under the guise that it’s for Galar’s future. 

Their real plan is to awaken Eternatus to draw out Zacian and Zamazenta and forcefully catch them so they can claim themselves as the second kings of Galar and gain considerable control in the region.

Rose is unaware of their true plans, and goes ahead with Eternatus’s awakening despite his own doubts. Has encouraged and promoted (with different ads, raffles, and campaigns that shows throughout the main story) everyone over the main story to leave Hammerlocke and the Wild Area on a certain date to watch the Gym Season’s finale so the affected area of the city could be empty for the second Darkest Day.

When he realizes Eternatus is much more powerful than he thought when awakened, Rose actually tries to fight it first before Leon gets there, and is knocked out in the process. The final fight with Gloria and Hop proceed as normal after Leon shows up.

During the events of the post-game, Hop and Gloria are accused of being fake heroes by Castiel and Brant’s fan base, as they couldn’t have possibly teamed up with the legendaries that were meant to choose only those of the royal family. The twins pretend to be against such rumors, but are much more unsettling off camera. They threaten Gloria and Hop unless they hand over the rusted sword and shield, and give them two days to deliver it to them. 

They try to get more information on the siblings with the help of Leon and Sonia while they visit Rose in the hospital, to which Rose overhears and tells them about the twins' involvement in the Darkest Day. 

Hop and Glo are harassed by the twins’ fans, adding pressure on social media as well as in person. 

The pressure eventually gets to Hop, who runs away to the Slumbering Weald to be alone, though he is met with Castiel who steals the shield from him. 

The twins soon begin another livestream from one of the gyms, and show off a provoked Zamazenta under their control. Hop and Glo immediately go after them, as their friends help them find out which gym they’re at.

Zacian, enraged at Zamazenta being used, fights along with them, though the brothers frame it as the two wolves coming to test them before their prophecy comes true. 

Hop and Gloria free Zamzenta from their control, and Hop manages to steal the shield back from Castiel. The two wolves leave the area again, and seeing their plans fall out, the brothers get angry at the teens. They talk about all the plans they made and how they messed it all up, but forget they are live streaming. They are taken away by the authorities when Hop and Gloria leave to return the weapons to the Weald.

When they return, they find the wolves waiting for them. Returning their weapons the legendaries prompt them to catch them.

SV

Florian has returned from a gap year and is recovering from health problems that started at an event at Kitakami at the end of his past year.

Juliana is new to the region, and is paired up with Florian for their school adventure.

Both Turo and Sada are Arven’s parents that worked in the Area Zero Lab. 

Both past and future paradox pokemon roam the crater.

Before the events of the main storyline, Turo created an AI of himself to help more at the lab, so he and Sada could balance their work and family time better.

When she was alone in the lab one day, Sada was pushed into one of the portals to the past by an alternate, evil, version of herself that had come from another portal. Alternate Sada took over Sada’s life, but Turo began to notice differences. 

He programmed AI Turo to take care of Arven, as well as a failsafe to protect him from Alternate Sada should anything happen to the real Turo.

Alternate Sada figured out that Turo knew, and threw him into one of the portals to the future. She also trapped AI Turo in one of the labs to prevent him from stopping her.

Alternate Sada eventually died in the lab blasts, but she was the parent who neglected Arven all those years that he had the most memories of.

[fallinglikeayoyo]

I'm bored so I'm going to rank the songs from Infinity on High. Including the 2 bonus tracks.

First, let me give a crumb of background. Infinity on High was the first album I had the brain cells to ask for as a Christmas gift, around when it came out. It was the album that got me into Fall Out Boy. I feel pretty qualified to share my opinions.

16. It's Hard to Say "I Do" When I Don't - it's kinda boring to me, I just never really cared for it.

15. The Carpal Tunnel of Love - 15 was harder to pick than 16 because I love this album so much but something has to be here, and this doesn't make a case, for me, to be much higher, this is one I've just never been drawn to that much.

14. You're Crashing, But You're No Wave - it's fine, I like the story of this one, but there are many other songs I'm more drawn to.

13. Don't You Know Who I Think I Am? - There are quite a few songs that hit harder than this for me but I still enjoy it.

12. Thnks Fr Th Mrs - I've just heard it so much. I've got nostalgia for it but I like others more.

11. This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race - I still love it but there are other tracks that deserve higher placements in this list imo, I've heard it a lot.

10. Fame < Infamy - SWEATing in the pewwww. It's just not able to be higher bc it doesn't have the oomph some of these other songs have for me.

9. "The Take Over, The Break's Over" - I've heard this one a lot, so it's on the tail end of the single digits, but it's still here bc there's something about "WE DOOOO it in the DAAAARK, with SMIIILES ON OUR FACES," okay?

8. Golden - I couldn't live with myself giving this double digits because I love this song, but there are others I love more. Lyrics, backing vocals, piano, aaahhh it's just good.

7. G.I.N.A.S.F.S - I mean, the only thing I can say as to why this isn't higher is bc it's not as nostalgic for me as the others. It's a banger. It's a club classic.

6. I'm Like A Lawyer With The Way I'm Always Trying To Get You Off - this one's v nostalgic for me, "the best way to make it through with hearts and wrists in tact is to realize that two out of three ain't bad" did something to my developing brain chemistry

5. I've Got All This Ringing In My Ears And None On My Fingers - Top tier closing track for an album on a kinda sad note, but still having fun. I love this song. The TRUUUUUuuuuUuUUuuuth

4. Bang The Doldrums - HAPPILY EVER AFTER, BELOOOWWW THE WAAIIIST. I love to sing this one, I love the drums. I just love this song.

3. Hum Hallelujah - This was a fast favorite for preteen me. I love singing this one. I love "You're someone who knows someone who knows someone I once knew" and "I love you in the same way there's a chapel in a hospital, one foot in the bedroom, and one foot out the door"

2. Thriller - TOP tier opening track for an album. I love singing this one too. I love the guitar. LONG LIVE THE CAR CRASH HEARTS. It's just GOOD.

1. The (After) Life of the Party - I LOVE singing this one. "I'm a stitch away from making it and a scar away from falling apart" DOES something to me. Especially before the last chorus, when it's so powerful.

Argue with the wall this is my heavily nostalgia-based opinion.

[blueiight]

How do you think Lestat's career and musical style for the modern era will be like? I am very curious about what celebrity musicians they are gonna use to base the personality and career of that man.

i love this question omg. and its pretty hard! idk how much of a need our modern age has for a david bowie& the like who clearly inspired the book’s rockstar lestat, especially considering that being ‘famous’ in our day & age goes by so quick. outside of beyonce & her cohort , maybe bts or them types , theres very few artists in our era i can think of that have that same sort of global reach.. when we also think about lestat’s motives for being the book rockstar lestat which were lestat antagonizing humanity and the old guard of vampires , seeking out the attention, love & admiration of his most beloved vampire/s to the point of one being a muse for a song of his, as well as his repeated insistence on ‘updating’ his brand of evil for the particular age hes in, in iwtv 76 which is in the 1800s vs. tvl-qotd in what was then the author’s/audience’s modern day the 1980s. the insistence on living by his own rules mapped to the era. an anachronistic bratty prince fr. i dont rly have a good sense on the exact style or inspiration behind the aesthetics or music style of a modern rockstar lestat would have , but my semi serious somewhat half thought out take on a modern show canon rockstar lestat’s career path could be that hed develop an ardent cult-like fanbase (but not a literal cult , just adjacent tactics. is it any wonder armand went to lestat+ gabi for vamp career advice) thatd hyperanalyze his every lyric, every outfit, whod blow him up to infamy in part bc his innate lust for controversy helps their very dedicated online presences. n what if he literally blows up on a mysterious concert night in chase center. fans develop theories saying the nba killed the vampire lestat and draymond green on his podcast is like wtf no hes literally a vampire. u have to wonder also how show interview would be perceived in a modern era which ive comically alluded to a few times, cuz another implicit aspect of lestat’s motive here imo was responding to what louis said+ generating a counterpart for the culture in response to the Vampire™️ posited by louis in universe interview. louis wasnt operating on the same knowledge of the vampire g code that lestat had, and u have to wonder how much show louis knows (or omitted, or suppressed by someone/thing) in contrast to show lestat.. so however the show’s modern era v analogous to our present responds to louie lou’s lil vampy book will imo set the course somewhat for our les and his novel writing band starting ventures.

[incompleteguide]

backlash winner predictions

bienvenue et bonsoir to backlash in lyon, france! airing at a time much appreciated by european fans, we are here to maintain our questionable record in predictions for the latest wwe premium live event.

undisputed wwe championship: “the american nightmare” cody rhodes (c) retains against “the phenomenal one” aj styles. aj will be retiring, so he’s doing the right thing and putting people over on his way out. cody is also the new john cena, so you gotta keep him hot

world heavyweight championship: “the archer of infamy” damian priest (c) retains against “main event” jey uso. jey’s time to shine will be against his bloodline relatives, and damian needs the time at the top to break away from the judgement day

wwe women’s championship: tiffany stratton wins in a triple threat against naomi and bayley (c). it’s tiffy time. we don’t know what else to tell you

rko v the bloodline: solo sikoa and the “mft” tama tonga win against “the viper” randy orton and kevin owens. solo and tama tonga need to remain a legit threat to be a future faction in the roman reigns breakdown

wwe women’s tag team championship: bianca belair and jade cargill win against kairi sane and asuka (c). their presentation at wrestlemania engendered a lot of positive response, and seeing jade lose (even with damage ctrl shenanigans) would undermine that. we wanna see bianca in singles competition soon though.

[1997thebracket]

Round 1A

Holyfield v Tyson II: Evander Holyfield and Mike Tyson were already two of the biggest names in boxing when they faced off for the first time in 1996, but it was their rematch the following year that would etch them in pop culture history. The fight began in Holyfield's favor, but an accidental headbutt resulting in a laceration above Tyson's eye would enrage the latter and spur him into unconventional and unsanctioned violence in the ring. With less than a minute remaining in the third round and Holyfield looking poised to take it, Tyson rolled his head above Holyfield's shoulder and bit him on the ear. Hard. Despite what the jokes of the time may have led you to believe, he did not rip the other man's ear off completely... but he did spit bloody chunks and a one-inch piece of cartilage on the floor. If you can believe it, the fight still went on with Tyson penalized, and he would then bite Holyfield's other ear in a subsequent round. The second bite was less severe, but this repeat offense was grounds for Tyson to be disqualified and have his boxing license revoked. (It would be reinstated in 1998.) The match would go on to live in infamy and overshadow the careers of both men.

...I've done it again, haven't I? Sorry, didn't mean to chew your ear off there. So how's work?

Crayola Mini-Stampers: Space: Alright, cards on the table... Crayola Mini-Stampers were a cute and terribly nostalgic product of the 90s, but they almost definitely pre-date 1997. I could've tried lying to you about this, but I don't want dishonesty between us, gentle reader. Crayola Mini-Stampers, as the name suggests, were modified Crayola markers which acted as low-mess kid-friendly stamps. Due to largely undocumented rollouts of the various designs across different states and countries, it's difficult to say with certainty when the very first product hit the shelves. What we can verify the origin date of, however, is one specific and exceptionally decade-appropriate design: Space Shapes, which were sold across the US in 1997. This coveted pack featured rockets, planets, stars, UFOs and little green aliens with disarming, definitely not hostile smiles, so let's all just stay calm, okay? The 90s were a glorious decade for school and art supplies, and what the Mini-Stampers lacked in versatility and neon baby tigers, they made up for in extraterrestrial awareness (which neatly coincided with intergalactic box office hits of the year Men In Black and Space Jam.)