#this is quite literally evidence of my madness
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The History of Gay Bars in Indiana & Season 4 Imagery
So. I want to make a quick disclaimer that this post isn’t a theory— I’m not saying any of this is connected, I just stumbled upon it today and thought it was interesting.
I did a search for the song ‘Rock Me Amadeus’ and ‘Queer,’ because I was listening to the song while writing a fic and was curious if there was any subtext I should know about. (For anyone who forgot, this song plays in Rink-o-Mania before El’s wipe-out.) I didn’t find any queer-lens lyric analysis, but what I did come across is maybe even more interesting.
An article from Indystar published in 2013 on the history of gay bars in Indiana, which just so happens to mention the song. Keep in mind that I didn’t search for Indiana or Indianapolis, just the song and the word queer.
I started reading out of curiosity, and I noticed a couple of interesting lines that reminded me of imagery we saw in Mike-and-Will scenes in season 4. Again, I’m not saying I believe they’re connected, I’m just hyperfixating and love drawing connections between media and history.
This is almost certainly coincidental, but I love to find patterns and make connections even when two things aren’t plausibly related. I know that the Duffers are very intentional with their music choices, though.
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in like a one person gets one, who would dicks soulmate (platonic or not idk) be? i’ve asked this to several ppl and the answers are usually wally, donna, or jason though i’ve seen some ppl say slade, roy, and bruce.
Anon your ask has literally been haunting me at night. I thought I knew the answer but then you hit me with a Donna!! But between Bruce and Donna, I can't decide so I'll just present a case for both.
Bruce
Bruce and Dick are soulmates on a cosmological scale. The DC universe ordained them to always find each other because they're quite literally a fated pair.
Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight Issue #23
Bruce: The only regret is that I'm out there alone. It felt good having someone at my back, being part of a team...but no sense wasting time wishing for something I'll never have.
Dick: He's cool, dad...d'you think we'll ever see him when we play Gotham?
The universe literally brings them together no matter the circumstances.
Convergence Issue #4
"The bond between you and Bruce Wayne echoes in every reality."
I don't think there's any stronger evidence for Dick and Bruce being soulmates than this.
But if that's still not enough I have more-
The Multiversity: Guidebook
In Bruce's world he lost Dick and in Dick's world he lost Bruce, but still in the end they somehow find each other. In every universe that has Batman, if someone is his partner it's always Dick.
In the medieval ages world-
Batman: Dark Knight of the Round Table Issue #1
The world of "A Christmas Carol" with Ebenezer Scrooge -
Batman: Noël
In a world where Bruce is a doctor at Arkham -
The Batman of Arkham
Dick is always there as his second.
Here's another interesting but depressing fact: In worlds where Dick Grayson has died as Robin, Bruce Wayne has never taken in another Robin.
This is because on top of the fact that Dick and Bruce as fated to meet, Dick means the entire world for Bruce. Like sometimes Bruce will come across a case with a child involved and the first thing he'll think about is Dick.
Batman: City of Madness Issue #2
Bruce's mind and life is literally consumed by Dick Grayson on a cosmologically spiritual level.
Donna
Donna is Dick's soulmate on a twin-sister spiritual level. Dick and Bruce are two halves of a whole, yin and yang. Dick and Donna though are one person. Their relationship is like taking paint and mixing it together to get something new. Like in those comics where two people look at each other and there's a "zing!" and suddenly it's an instant connection. That's them.
Titans (2016) Special 1
additionally:
Titans (2016) Special 1
New Titans (1988) Issue #89
Dick and Donna have no secrets. They're like a jigsaw puzzle, their pieces fall right into place.
He's always there for her-
The New Teen Titans (1980) Issue #38
They're so special and integral to each other that when an evil witch erases Donna from everyone's memories, there is only one focal point for her. One focal person for her throughout the years. Even though he doesn't remember her, Dick literally goes back in time with his future daughter Mar'i to help Donna, his soul-sister-
The Titans (1999) Issue #25
In every. single. moment of Donna's past Dick appears again and again to comfort her and be her pillar from Robin to civies to Nightwing. In the "Who is Donna Troy" Arc, as the story goes from the origins of Donna to the present, it becomes very clear that Dick is her centerpoint.
They're the definition of soulmates.
She knows him better than anyone else and he knows her. She even had him walk her Donna the aisle for her wedding. He was given that honor because of who they are to each other.
Tales of the Teen Titans Issue #42
I...
just-
Tales of the Teen Titans Issue #50
to love like that...
They're made for each other.
#dick grayson#nightwing#bruce wayne#batman#donna troy#wonder girl#troia#robin dick grayson#dc titans#titans as family#cl anon asks#cl asks#thanks for the ask!#koriandr#starfire
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routine vibe check: what’s the best starter pokemon and why are you right (pictures and long paragraphs of evidence welcomed and appreciated)
Gonna get a good grade in vibe check, normal to want and inevitable to achieve because I have objectively correct Pokemon opinions and will block naysayers
OKAY LET'S GO
I decided to do, like, a top 5 list or something, because I'm bad at picking a single favourite of stuff. And then even that overwhelmed me, so I found one of those tier ranking list sites and produced this:
It was done in less than a minute, so if I wanted to get really picky, I don't know if I would be fully wedded to it (not sure if maybe Sceptile should be one higher) BUT it did help to highlight the important ones.
So!
5. Bulbasaur
It's. Just. So. Nice.
Like you can find cooler, more beautiful, cuter, fancier... there's a whole bunch of ways for a Pokemon to be great. But you will never ever find a nicer Pokemon than Bulbasaur. It's so lovely. Look at it. Look at its face.
I can't put it higher, because the rest of the line is fairly bland in terms of development. It's good and logical and fun, don't get me wrong, but Ivysaur and Venusaur just look like bigger versions with More Flower and Less Cute rather than creatures in their own right. To be honest, if it weren't a starter requiring a three-stage evolution, you could do away with Ivysaur. Something I don't like about a lot of lazy three-step lines is that the middle step just looks like a transitional mid phase rather than a Proper Creacher, like they were artificially inflating the Pokemon number count. Meanwhile it took us until Paldea to get a Girafarig evo that would actually make the giraffe tall. Madness.
However my first ever Pokemon was a Bulbasaur I called Daffodil, and I have traded him forward onto every single successive generation since. He is, quite literally, my First Ever Pokemon. I love him desperately. I still have him. Not many people still have their First Ever Pokemon. But I do and I love him. So, Bulbasaur gets the fifth spot.
4. Snivy
Again, a victim of the Banal Transitional Middle Evo, but both Snivy and Serperior are incredible, and as Meatloaf took such pains to tell us, two out of three ain't bad.
But Snivy! It's so snooty! I was super lucky with mine, too, because I beat the 12.8% odds and got a female, and I loved her. Normally the initial baby starters are designed to be cute but Snivy has SO MUCH PERSONALITY, she's great. And the design of Serperior is utterly gorgeous. She keeps the expression, but rather than the Animal Crossing-style snooty-cute vibe of Snivy you get this thousand yard withering stare of an empress whose servant (you) has just turned up dripping mud in her throne room and asked her for money. Her green and gold colour scheme is exquisite. Her filigree design, including her high collar, give off the air of wealth and sophistication befitting her immaculate pedigree. And all this! In a simple snake. Incredible design work, 10 out of 10, no notes.
Begone, you miserable peasant. Have him boiled.
3. Torchic
Now I'll be real with you, lads, but Pokemon design hit its stride with Hoenn and then got better.
It's partly a fashion thing, of course - you look at some of the Kanto designs and they are remarkably 90s, because that's when the franchise launched. Others are clearly a product of what the 1990's were capable of producing in pixels on an already over-stretched cartridge medium. Like we like to clown on Red and Green/Blue now, but my god, those game designers performed a miracle with Pokemon. Every single square inch of space was used to make that game, and complex designs weren't going to cut it.
(With that said, there is still no excuse for Dragonite.)
And then Johto came about and its Pokedex sucks ass. It's mostly new evolutions for existing Kanto stars, useless babies to inflate the dex number, or poorly thought out single-evos like the inexplicably short Girafarig and the unacceptably dreary Dunsparce (our greatest thanks to Paldea for fixing both of those).
BUT THEN CAME HOENN (trumpets intensify)
And we get habitats! Biomes! A different regional climate, gifting us a brand new area of Pokecology! And therefore a brand new flush of creativity in Pokemon design across the board; less dated, and more inclined to be unique rather than a rehash of Kantonian stuff.
Which brings me nicely to this lad:
Now, I mean. Just look at him. Fucking hell. Cute starter stage, check. LOOK AT HIM FACE
AND THEN he became, at the time, a brand-new unique typing: Fire/Fighting. I realise that is now the norm for like, half of the Fire starters, but that's because of Torchic, actually. He was super popular. In fact if you ever play Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald and you do what my husband and I like to call a Mynci Dave run (use one Pokemon almost exclusively, meaning it gets all the experience points and therefore over-levels to a terrifying degree, allowing you to sweep the game; so named after the noble Primeape we first did this with, Mynci Dave), Torchic is the PERFECT Pokemon to choose, because almost everything is weak to either Fire or Fighting in that region.
Anyway, Combusken is, again, kind of mid (although props for the inverted colour scheme and the fact that it actually does look like a teenager.) But Blaziken, on the other hand... Blaziken is a six foot ninja chicken with wings for hair whose Pokedex entry describes it as able to leap tall peaks in a single bound, a feat it achieves after strengthening its legs by hoofing Geodudes down mountains like they're fucking footballs
Also an impressive bulge.
My first was called Gilgamesh, and he was fucking great. For a long time, this mad lad was my actual favourite Pokemon, not just starter. Brilliant. Love him. Five stars out of three. King.
2. Fuecoco
It would probably surprise you to know I've not actually used one. I chose Sprigatito, and I do really like Meowscarada, actually. But pretty anthro cat boys have been done in Pokemon quite a bit at this point; cats, dogs and rabbits are over-represented in terms of Poke-taxa. Possibly this is another reason for a toad, a snake and a chicken being 5, 4 and 3 so far (ooh, basilisk ingredients, I've just realised.) They're new and unusual! I like an Eeveelution as much as the next person, but they're a whole family of cat-dog-rabbits, like.
However.
Nintendo has tried its hand at Pokecrocodilians three times (Feraligatr, Krookodile, Skeledirge), and they have gotten so much better at design each time that the three of them are basically a scale proxy for ongoing design improvement. Look, I've made a diagram:
EXCEPT
(Strap in)
This one is that rare thing: a three step line that deserves to be a three step line. Let's talk Fuecoco first:
SO CUTE. It's charming, it's charismatic, it's adorable.
It also has hints of its evolutionary end goal, but not like an undeveloped middle evo. It likes singing. The white face hints at the eventual calavera, and it looks a bit like a lil chilli pepper - a ghost pepper, probably in reference to the eventual Fire/Ghost typing. But the colours and shape right now also look a bit reminiscent of a babygro, because this thing is a cute starter. Lookit them teefs. That tuft. Its lovely smile. Beautiful.
And then, at the point you expect it to turn into just the awkward teenage version of the adult, instead we get Crocator:
Oh boy. Oh there's so much to say. Okay okay:
The region it's from is based on Spain, but this thing is incorporating Hispanic elements from across the board. It's a mariachi in a sombrero, except the sombrero also looks kind of like a ring of Mexican marigolds and kind of like a Catalonian Easter cake called Mona de Pascua that has an egg (or egg-shaped confectionary) in the middle. Body shape and markings look kind of like a piñata. The white face is now on its way to a calavera, with the cheek and nostril markings more defined. And it sings, with its open mouth (also how crocodiles release heat, appropriate for a Fire type) and signified by the mariachi theme.
THAT IS A LOT.
And then it becomes Skeledirge. A Fire/Ghost crocodile.
Now the obvious design here is the calavera and the Día de Muertos theming, which is part of it. But there are also many examples of crocodile figures in Spanish folkloric ghost stories: the Catalonian Cocollona, the Lizard of Magdalena from Jaén, or the Drac de Na Coca, or even the Cuca - that one is Portuguese, but turns up in both Brasil and the Iberian Peninsula including in parts of Spain. It's got a Gaudi vibe (like Barcelona). It's got an alebrije vibe (like Mexico).
And the bird! Nile crocs have a cleaning symbiosis with Egyptian plovers; it also sits at the tip of the snout where male gharials have a sort of bulbous bit to help them make sounds (the singing thing).
But this is what the bird does when Skeledirge uses Torch Song:
youtube
It becomes a microphone, then grows in size and attacks the opponent in Phoenix form. Phoenix: Fire/Ghost. Resurrected from the ashes.
Quite simply, your fave could never.
5. Rowlet
My god. (My god)
gasp
Look at this lovely creacher. He is so round and so soft and so lovely. He looks like that baby Yoda meme. He looks like that cat that someone's landlord said they would make an exception for because he looks very polite. Look!!! At his lil bow tie!!! He is a smartly dressed young man and he is kind and he is... well, a bit vacant behind the eyes. A himbo, if you will. But he is all the better for that. What a lovely owl.
He looks a little like a barn owl, perhaps, and those were imported to Hawai'i, where Rowlet is from. But I think he looks a little like a Pueo owl, and given that he will eventually be a Ghost type, that seems right - pueos are one of the physical forms assumed by ʻaumākua in Hawai'ian culture, as I understand it.
And then, hang onto your tits, lads, because this is another banger - THE MIDDLE EVOLUTION IS ITS OWN DESIGN!!! (confetti cannons)
I said earlier that boring middle evos are like just awkward teenagers of the adults. Here, I present to you, a very deliberate Awkward Teenager, in Dartrix:
IT'S A DANDY
I love him I love him I love him
He plays with his fringe and if you touch it without permission he has a tantrum. God, he's so charismatic. Also, that fringe further suggests the pueo - they have pronounced outer rims around their facial disks like that. Look at his bow tie and tail coat. So smart and handsome
This one is so good that it could be the final evo. This is actually my issue with the Delphox line - Braixen is amazing, and then it becomes the bland boredom of Delphox. Braixen should have been the final stop. Here, Dartrix is much the same - good enough to be a high-quality end goal.
Where they differ is that Decidueye is better again.
IT SHOOTS ARROWS MADE OF ITS OWN QUILLS
Also, fun fact - This line is the only starter to change secondary typing. Dartrix is part Flying; but on evolving a second time into Decidueye, it switches to Grass/Ghost. In this evolution, it's definitely mostly a pueo, so the ʻaumākua reference is IN, but actually barn owls also have their associations with the dead in various cultures.
The crown of feathers around its head are also reminiscent of an ayaigasa - a hat worn by Japanese samurai archers. And yet! AND YET!
It still has its lil bow tie look. Bigger now, more of a cravat; but there it is.
A perfect Pokemon, and a perfect evolutionary line. No notes.
Anyway, thank you for this chance to waste three and a half hours writing this essay
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𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭, 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Perhaps the karma gods of the world were just as perverted as Hawkins’ residential Freak, Eddie Munson, himself, as the perfect opportunity to lay his hands on you arose when you go searching for helpless students to tutor.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, brief mentions of religion, naivety, feelings of embarrassment, perversion, and explicit sexual content: fondling, minimal spanking, mentions of virginity, mentions of female masturbation, male masturbation, tiny praise kink, stuffed animal humping, clit rubbing, handjob, oral (both receiving), corruption kink, cum eating and dubcon (just precautionary).
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I tried to be gross! Sorry it took so long. It's quite hard writing about a plotline that doesn't pertain to Eddie being mad at us for taking his picture and putting it in the yearbook (my series, you should read it). I'm trying to get into the groove of writing, so I apologize in advance if this is literal butt cheeks, I tried. Also, you will be getting an unwarranted history lesson.
𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.
“…Man, I told Jeff that my mom would get pissed off if he left his beer cans in the garage, and he was all like, “Nah, dude, I promise I’ll pick ‘em up,” and he didn’t! Of course, he didn’t…”
In retrospect, tuning out the complaints of Gareth Emerson may not have been the smartest moves, as Corroded Coffin had just lost their only space to freely practice. You know, where they wouldn’t get dirty looks and threats of the police for public disturbance. And surely, as lead guitarist and singer of such an aspiring band, Eddie Munson would have been fully engrossed at the sudden mention of the deterrence into their path to wealth, fame, and glory… right? No. Because this is Eddie Munson we’re talking about here. And behind that domineering rockstar facade of leather jackets, clinking chains, gaudy jewelry, and a tight- tight pair of denim pants, yes, behind those pair of pants was a pulsating cock that was desperate to grow twice its softened size just two minutes and twenty-three seconds before he had to face Mrs. Wither’s biology class, all because Eddie Munson saw you.
Why- why on God’s green Earth would he ever choose to listen to the cracking voice of Gareth Emerson, when you were literally standing right across the hall, not even four yards away? The skirt. The fucking teeny tiny, baby pink, short skirt you decided to wear, the one Eddie was sure that if you bent forward even just a little bit, he would be flashed with the sexy crease of your fat ass cheeks meeting your doughy thighs, and he was desperate to be smothered by it.
“…So yeah, we can’t practice at my house anymore.” Gareth lamented. That’s when he noticed the oh so obvious, blatantly clear, totally discernable trance of his friend, realizing his entire tangent just deliquesced into thin air with no acknowledgement whatsoever. Gareth slammed his locker shut. “You weren’t even listening to me!”
Eddie’s eyes finally shot away at the bleated tone of Gareth’s rightful attitude. “‘Scuse me? I totally was listening.” He hissed back, evidently not amused with the embarrassing fact that he was caught red-handed.
“No, you weren’t.” Gareth groused, looking back to follow the ghost trail that once was Eddie’s distracted eye line, which is when he landed on you. “You were just checking out that girl.”
“That girl has a name, y’know?” Eddie retorted.
“That girl isn’t going to help us find a place to practice!” Gareth retaliated. “Stop looking for chicks to score, I’m serious.”
“Hey,” Eddie perked, as he stood straight, countering his friend, “y’know, she’s actually really smart and, like, super fucking funny-”
His friend could only incredulously scoff. “Oh, right, because you’ve totally had a conversation with her.”
“I-I’ve… stood next to her a-and have heard her talk to her friends.” Definitely not the riposte Eddie hoped to shoot out. The stuttering sure as hell didn’t help.
“Oh, so you’re a stalker.” Gareth nonchalantly derided, leaving Eddie to deadpan him. “Look, whatever, man, you can perv on girls all you want, but we have bigger issues at hand, dude. Where the hell are we supposed to practice?” Eddie’s chest ended up being victimized by the harsh poke of Gareth’s stern finger. And if he wasn’t so annoyed with his friend, he would have winced, because that actually kinda hurt a little. But just a little. Eddie’s ego wasn’t about to take a hit today.
He rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Relax, alright? We’ll work our way around it.”
Truthfully, Eddie had no actual plans of working their way around it, in fact, it was quite a large issue he should have prioritized, but that could wait. Should it? No. But it would. Yes. Surely, staring at you was more of a fun game. He’d done that for the past two years he’d known of you, and he never got tired of it, I mean, how could he? One day—he always chalked up—he would get the balls to actually speak to you. You were always so nice, so sweet, skirting around the halls of Hawkins High that Eddie felt were too unworthy for your leisure, smiling and waving at any and everyone. Last Tuesday, the day you met his perverted eyes—oblivious to his hungry stares—and kindly threw him a beguiling smile as if it wasn’t the most dangerous weapon on Earth, was the day Eddie Munson skipped fourth period and jerked his aching cock in the dingy stall of the boys’ bathroom, before speeding home to fold his pillow in half and slide himself into the makeshift pussy just to fuck it with screwed shut eyes to invision the perfect image of you laying on your back with bouncing tits.
But unfortunately, that was just a dream Eddie Munson would have to deduce himself into every night, because the reality of you ever actually speaking to him was tragically low. Mostly because Eddie was scared he’d stutter and fuck up in front of you. It was embarrassingly shameful when it occurred in the comfort of his own bedroom, as he acted out what he would say to you in the mirror. You literally weren’t even there and he still tripped over his words!
But maybe the karma gods were finally aligning with his life, because he watched you happily place a “Need a Tutor?” sign on the bulletin board of the main hall, with little slips of your phone number ready to tear off and grab for anyone needing some “intimate one-on-one session time.” And, my god, was Eddie Munson anguished for that, so when the pink thumbtack stabbed your preciously designed poster into the cluttered corkboard, and you walked away with a innocent smile that was ready to help anyone in need, Eddie could hear an angel receiving its wings in the distance, as a harp played, and a choir harmonized heavenly, because his mind was stirring with the endless possibilities of raunchy and crude wet dreams. And Eddie was finally receiving a chance to dive into some pussy galore. Gross.
“Oh, yeah, and how exactly do you plan on doing that? My drum kit can’t fit in your trailer, Grant’s grandma nearly had a heart attack the last time we practiced at his place, and Jeff’s mom still thinks it’s the “devil's music,” so what exactly is your plan here, hotshot?” Gareth scoffed.
“My plan?” Eddie chimed with a menacing smirk. “Oh, well I plan on getting tutored by my future wife.” He slyly leered, as he sauntered his away to your advertisement, Gareth following behind feeling beyond the definitions of vexation.
“You’re actually insane, y’know that?” Gareth exhaled, as he watched Eddie eagerly tear off a slip and examine it with a prodding tongue through his lips. “This says for anyone needing a tutor in history.” Gareth pointed out.
Eddie shrugged, as your number slipped into the back pocket of his jeans. “So?”
“You’re not even taking history!” Gareth stressed, as the bell rang to commence class. “What are you gonna do when you show up completely clueless?”
“Dude, she’s looking for idiots to tutor,” Eddie patted him on the shoulder, “she’s expecting cluelessness. And I am the perfect guy. Kay?” He triumphantly smiled. “Stop stressing, go to class. And don’t worry, I’ll send you an invitation to our wedding. Thinkin’ of making it BDSM theme.”
Gareth grimaced.
Eddie Munson may not have caught onto the obvious insult he just hurled to himself, but that didn’t matter. Not when he had a call to make after school.
-
The ticking minutes of the afternoon couldn’t have passed by any slower, as Eddie managed to work up every excuse in the book to get his uncle, Wayne, to leave early for work: grab some lunch at Benny’s before hand, stop for some coffee at the local cafe, show up an hour early to impress the bosses—though, the bosses didn’t pay Wayne enough for him to feel the need to turn up before his scheduled shift—and soon the minutes turned into hours, and the sun would be setting soon. Eddie could feel you slipping through his grasp, as someone who probably actually needed a tutor was bound to call you before he could- or worse, some sick perv with the same bright idea as him would call you. Though Eddie Munson was adamant on the fact that none of the other guys who creeped on you could take care of you like he could.
Sure, the only experience he ever had was when the older bartender with bouncy hair offered to show the lead singer of Corroded Coffin a “special thank you,” which promptly led him to losing his virginity in the loathsome bathroom of the Hideout, which also led to a frantic eighteen-year-old Eddie anxiously running to the local health clinic for STDs testing when it dawned on him that he just had unprotected sex with a stranger during the dangerous minutes of post-nut clarity. But, Eddie Munson was still a hormonal teenager, and once the negative results cleared him from the nerve-wracking chlamydia or gonorrhea scare, he laid back and relished on the memory of having sex and, well, by the sounds of it—if his memory serves him right—she seemed to enjoy it, too. Granted, Eddie never engaged in any more of her efforts to try again because- well, he was left scarred, but all that is beyond the point. The point is Eddie Munson wanted to be the one to love on you, dote on you, make you feel so fucking good that you were programmatically addicted to him- to his cock.
Oh, fuck, he’s hard already.
But finally, as the clock struck six o’clock, his uncle waved him goodbye, and Eddie had ran through the numerous piles of clothes in the trailer—ones he promised to fold—and slammed into the wall phone to begin his endeavors. The crumpled slip of your phone number had been retrieved from his back pocket, and he skimmed the digits, letting his fingers dial as he read each number. It was nowhere near remotely possible, but Eddie Munson had even managed to find your phone number to be so sexy. Mm, so even and divisible. God, he was sick. But nonetheless, the phone rang and rang, and he was muttering the “c’mon, pick up, pick up” mantra to lead him one step closer to you. Communicating through a phone would surely ease his worries about potentially screwing up. He just had to take a deep breath and let the conversation flow itself. But, shit, it was ringing for far too long. You were probably already knees deep into some boring textbook with a helpless classmate, or getting flirted by Nathan Cavanugh, who Eddie once saw check you out; or you were probably cuddling up with Bryce Walters, who would always lean against your locker to sweet talk you during school; or, fuck, you could have already been getting handsy with Harrison Moran, who would always come up and hug you after a footba-
“Hello?” Oh, shit.
“Oh- I mean, uh, hi.” This wasn’t going to work. He was already slipping up. Eddie had never internally cringed so hard, his hand pragmatically slapped his forehead in disbelief, but his mouth just kept moving. “It’s, um, me.” Me?! How the fuck would you know who me is?!
“Oh, my god, hi, Eddie!” You perked with giddiness. What the fuck?
He stammered with confusion, “Wait… how’d you know it was me- like, me, Eddie?”
“Duh, your voice, silly.” You giggled, as Eddie huffed a breathy chuckle, and leaned against the wall with a curling lip. Maybe this could work.
“Oh, yeah? You recognize my voice, sweetie?” His lit into a teasing, sultry crisp that had you flustered on the other line.
“Well, yeah. I mean, you’re always making quite the scene during lunch.” You delicately laughed into the receiver. “I guess it just kinda got stuck in my head, like, you know, when you hear a catchy song?”
Eddie sucked in a breath, as his hand played with the hem of his shirt to tease his sensitive naval with soft touches, and you could thoroughly hear the smirk of his grin oozing through his words. “Oh, really?” He teased rhetorically. “Yeah, no, I understand. I can happily say the same for you, sweetheart. Got such a pretty voice.”
“Oh,” you were clearly rattled, as his compliment hit you, “th-thank you, Eddie. You’re so nice.”
“Aw, well, actually, sweetheart, it’s you who’s so nice. Offering others your help with tutoring, just so sweet, aren’t ya, huh? It’s actually why I’m calling.” He smiled. “You wanna… help me out, princess?”
“Yes, I’d love to!” Your bubbly voice made it certain that you were ready to genuinely help him with his studies, and provide him with the needed lessons. It could almost make Eddie feel guilty. Almost. But his dick was thumping with eagerness, and he was containing all restraints to keep from pressing his bulge against the paneling of the wall to your sickly sweet voice, and thrusting his hips. That would be a new low. Even for him. “I’ve been waiting forever for someone to call, Eds, you don’t even understand. I was beginning to think nobody needed a tutor.”
“Oh, no, sweet girl, I can assure you I desperately need a helping hand.” He sighed, as the rings on his finger began dancing around the protrusion of his pants, applying just a small amount of pressure. “And I’d fucking love yours.” Your innocent mind absolutely swooned at the opportunity to aid his learning, completely unbeknownst to Eddie’s perverted meaning.
“That’s great, I’d love to help you, Eddie.” You gushed, and Eddie’s teeth had to bite down onto his lip to uphold the self-control of being so desperate he was debating dry humping the wall. “Are you able to come over tonight?
“Oh, yeah, baby, I’ll definitely be coming tonight.” As soon as the call would end, Eddie Munson would drop to his knees and repent all the wrongdoings of his life, if it meant this actually working out for him. It’s doesn’t necessarily fall under the codes of Catholicism to exactly pray in front of the random “Bless this house, O Lord we pray, Make it safe by night and day” calendar with the hopes of finally having sex with his high school crush, but Eddie wasn’t exactly the type to carry around his own crucifix for an impromptu prayer, and he was truly just really fucking horny for you. And he was also smart enough to know his luck. If his life taught him anything, you would actually say that plans came up and you would be too busy to tutor him, and just like that, his opportunity would have disintegrated into dust. Now, while the possibility of that occurring was plausible, it genuinely should not have garnered him the idea to suddenly believe in divine interference and pray to a calendar that he’d get laid, but Eddie Munson did it anyway. Because you had him that fucking forlorn.
“How does seven-thirty sound? You can come over then, does that work for you?” You were already planning the layout for your study session, when all Eddie could think about was caressing your figure.
“Absolutely.” He affirmed with a tight breath when his teeth bloodied his lip.
“Great, I’ll see you then, Eddie- oh, wait, before you go, do you like cookies? I can make us some as a snack.” God, you really were so fucking sweet.
“Shit,” Eddie mumbled under his breath, “cookies? Yeah, I like cookies, sweetheart. Can’t fucking wait to taste them.”
“Okay, good, I’ll gladly make you some!” You cheered with excitement. “I’ll see you soon!”
Attending high school for six years would surely be more than enough time to, I don’t know, memorize at least one thing about the many lessons Eddie had to endure—science, math, hell, even construction—but nothing cemented into his mind more clearly than the address you’d given him- the address he’d fuck you at… hopefully. God, he could already picture it so vividly. Your pink room of frills and silk. The room where you study. Where you sleep. Where you change. Where you lick your fingers and snake your hand under the lace of your panties to rub your pussy to the thought of being fucked-
Oh, how the hell was he ever going to survive being in your house?
-
Eddie Munson had stared about the likes of your neighborhood for a good five minutes, finding the audacity to suddenly play undercover detective as a means of “scoping out the scene” to ensure the sanctity of his sexual endeavors. Perhaps the karma gods were desperate to get this twenty-year-old man laid—they had to be tired of the countless prayers for pussy that flooded their heavenly inbox—as Mrs. Winthrop, the forty-something-year-old lady of fancy tracksuits and shiny pearls who loved to patrol the regulations of the HOA, was, fortunately, accompanying her newlywed seventy-something-year-old husband at the City Hall’s Annual Fundraiser Banquet. Had she decided to not meddle into the world of small town aristocrats to weasel her way into her elderly husband’s will, she would have surely caught wind of Eddie Munson’s suspicious activity, and had your house flooded with flashing reds and blues as he sat in the backseat of a police car; hands in cuffs and boner in boxers.
But Mrs. Winthrop hadn’t been home. And Eddie had deliberated the risk of a possible wandering neighbor catching a glimpse of his dubious acts, and taken it, because in doing so, he was met with the glory of an empty driveway to your home. Where a car—like the silver sedan he learned your mother drove to drop you off to school or the black truck he learned your father drove to pick you up from school—was typically parked had been abandoned to an emptiness, leaving the cemented path to your garage exposed. And peering just a little to the left, he would come face-to-face with the familiar fateful sentiment of that of an empty driveway: an empty curb.
Long gone were the risks of parental interference.
Eddie Munson was fucking you tonight.
Your doorbell had diffused into quietness. Hidden behind the denim pockets of his jacket, his fists balled tightly, as his mind ran through the notions of how he would manifest this to occur. Worst case scenario, you’d reject his advances… possibly realize his agenda… might call him a freak… definitely a perv… probably slap him in the face, he would deserve it… you could tell the whole school… it would surely spread across town… then the torches and pitchforks would come out- yeah, okay, he should really stop overthinking right about now. But then there were the other thoughts. The thoughts- the debauched thoughts that filled his head of just you and your body completely at his mercy. Best case scenario, you’d fall into his arms… he’d shove his hot tongue down your throat- ooh, better yet, his cock… he’d certainly grope the fattiness of your ass… might tug on your nipples with his teeth… spit on your clit… fuck, then undoubtedly plunge his cock into your cunt until it was drowning in his sticky cum. There was only so much space behind the seam of his zipper before his growing dick would burst through.
The ten seconds of impending footsteps held no merit of preparation for Eddie Munson to secure the steady breath of cool, calm, and collected like he wanted to. He was supposed to up his bravado, put on that bad boy demeanor he knew to flaunt while strutting the streets of Hakwins, Indiana to ensure his character was never physically targeted by the clear disdain the town held for him. And it worked. Never once had it failed to be intimidating. In fact, that very intimidation that was going to be his reliable source of timidly scaring you tino pulling up the soft cotton of your top to flash him the bouncing volume of your boobs for him to pervertedly grab. If it had to get that far.
But that was all too easy.
And Eddie Munson hadn’t accounted for the fact that his breath would hitch at mere sight of you beaconing him into your humble home with a peachy “Hi, Eddie” and that sinful skirt that seemed to love your body just as much as he did from the way it clung to your dips and curves.
“H-Hi, sweetness.” His lips hungry rolled against themselves, as his eyes raked your silhouette upon entering the foyer of your house. “I, uh, I didn’t see anyone in the driveway. C-Can I assume we’re, um, alone?” Eddie shyly smiled.
You were there to kindly answer. “Oh, yeah! My parents drove out of town to attend a familiar friend’s wedding.” See, this is where an attempt at a nice conversation could have occurred, had you not daintily secured your hands together behind your back with pristine posture. With your puffed chest, Eddie’s eyes had absentmindedly diverted to the now pebbling outline of your nipples that seemingly hardened from the draft Eddie had brought in. Heaven truly was a place on Earth- or whatever the hell that Belinda chick sang about. “I hope that’s alright.” You giggled.
“Huh…?”
“I mean, I’m definitely nowhere near as good a cook as my mom, but I made those cookies for you as a treat, and I hope you’ll like them.” You bit your lip. “But, um, if you’re still hungry, we can totally order something for dinner.”
Eddie didn’t know what was louder, the beating in his heart or his cock. Either way, it was blatantly obvious the effect you had on him, and his body was desperately lurching for yours. “Oh, yeah, no, uh, no worries. I-I, um- sorry, I’m just a bit… nervous.” He shied away with a teasing grin.
What more could be expected? Out of the kindness of your heart, your face contorted with concern. “Oh, please don’t be nervous!” You held a soft grip to his bicep, pulling him close. Hook. “I know it can be a little scary being tutored, but I promise you’re totally in control here.” And reel. “We’ll go at your pace. I’m here to help you, remember?” You’d be doting on him the whole night.
If intimidation wasn’t going to get him to see your pussy tonight, maybe the kicked puppy act will.
A sickening smirk consumed his face, and his hand flew over his heart. “Aren’t you just the sweetest? Got the prettiest heart and face in this town, huh?”
Oh, and how that compliment had you flustering in his grace, looking away with a breaking smile of demure. Being tutored may not have been the most conventional way of getting laid, but the favor was working on his side, and Eddie was loving his ingenious idea of stealing your advertising slip. “I- well, um, thank you, Eddie.” You smiled, attempting to meet his eyes again. “You know, you’re really nice, too. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Donna.”
“Donna?” That crank with a stick up her ass, who seemingly tried to control every little thing you did? That Donna?!
Now, say all you want about the morality of following around someone you love, but don’t misconstrued things here, Eddie Munson was not a stalker. Nope. Nuh-uh. Sure, he liked to linger around you, who wouldn’t? And, while, yes, oftentimes- no, all the times, you didn’t know of his presence, but still, it wasn’t stalking. He was just learning things about you. Yeah, learning things. Learning the make and model of your parents’ vehicles. Learning your class schedule in hopes of catching glimpses of you in the hallways. Learning about your favorite subjects and what you hated. Learning the acts that guys did that made your face scrunch up with disgust. And yes, learning about Donna fucking McIntyre, who did seem to catch on to his stalking presence- no, linger presence (totally not a stalker).
In the many instances Eddie stood close enough to eavesdrop on your conversations, he’d grown quite a distaste for Donna McIntyre. Actually, it’d do no justice to deduce his hatred as “distaste.” Eddie Munson fucking hated Donna McIntyre. Listening to her speak was like shoving a knife through his eardrum. He’d only endure it if it meant hearing your honey voice and learning more about you. This particular disdain for your close friend hadn’t appeared from thin air, no, Eddie Munson had complete reasons to hate the ginger; Donna McIntyre had sensibility. Where your naivety had you blissfully unaware of Eddie’s hungry stare, Donna McIntyre had caught onto every one of his perversions. Call it bias, he didn’t care, he hated her. In hindsight, your two year friendship with her had truly saved you from some compromising situations in which creepy men bestowed themselves upon you. Donna McIntyre was there to save you. Leave no girl behind. And you loved her for it.
Eddie Munson, on the other hand, despised her for it.
A daily routine had manifested itself between the two rivals. One where Eddie would lovingly stare at your perched breasts spewing from your low-cut top, only to accidentally make eye contact with Donna during his spare seconds of eyeing you, being met with one of the most—rightfully—disgusted stares from her. He was left scoffing every time she grappled onto your elbow and pulled you away wherever you stepped within his vicinity.
“Yeah.” You sorely pouted. “See, she’s, like, my best friend ever, but she always says the nastiest things about you.”
“Like what?” He questioned with squinted eyes.
“Well, I don’t want to say the mean names she calls you, but she always mentions how I need to stay away from you; something about you being bad news.” You huffed. “I mean, literally before you came here, I called her all excited that I was finally tutoring someone tonight, because it looks really good on college applications, you know? But when I told her it was you, she completely lost it, saying you were just taking advantage of me.” Fucking divine interference?!
Eddie Munson had to give it to her. She may have been a pain in the ass, but Donna McIntyre was smart.
“Uh, well, y’know, princess, some people are just downright rude.” He dejectedly suspired. “People have been pickin’ on me since I was a child, y’know? Just because I’m different.” Maybe the bruised kid was taking it a little too far, but a special place in hell was already being dedicated to Eddie Munson, with a fiery plaque being engraved with the devil’s sharp talon, so did he care? No. Not when his sob story had you jumping to console him with a sympathizing hug, one where your tits squished against his chest, and he reveled in the feeling of your poking nipples brushing against his body.
A more than content hum groaned out of Eddie’s mouth, as he wrapped you close, and inhaled a waft of your perfect smell. “I’m so sorry, Eds.” Your heart of gold oozed out with all sadness for him.
“It’s okay, baby-”
“No, it’s not.” You pulled back to pout at him. “People shouldn’t treat you like that. It’s mean. People shouldn’t be mean to you.” Eddie cooed, copying your protruding lips, and sighed happily at your word of action. “You have me as a friend now! And I promise that I’ll never be mean to you. I just want to be nice to you. All the time, be nice to you.”
There’s no way you couldn’t feel his boner pressing into your tummy. “Aw, precious, I’d really like that. You’ll be nice to me? Do anything for me? Make me feel good?”
The quickness to your fervent nod had a sickening grin formulating on Eddie’s expression. “Yes, of course! Always, that’s what friends do.” You smiled. In a flash, you acted on impulse and pressed your lips to his cheek, where your gloss had marked his skin and burned his body. Witnessing you shyly smile at him afterwards had his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head. “I just wanna help you out.” You whispered.
“You can definitely help me, princess.” He spoke in hushed tones. “Y’know how you can help me?” His face gravitated to yours, target of interest aiming for your lips.
And you looked at him with those innocent, round eyes. “Tutoring you!” You beamed, like you just answered the million dollar question on a game show- well, not Eddie’s preferred game show.
“Oh,” he cleared his throat with a forced laugh to keep you smiling, “yes, of course, sweetheart, tutoring me. That’s the only reason I came here, anyway.” He internally perished.
You squealed in excitement, jumping from the giddiness of being helpful. “Yay!” You beamed, forcing Eddie to follow suit, his faux enthusiasm compelling him to swallow thickly in order to constrain the blood back to his brain if he was going to sit through a tutoring lesson before seeing your ass in whatever baby pink thong he pictured you wearing. You laced your hand within his—being his only saving grace for enduring schoolwork after hours—and tugged him into the coziness of your living room. “So, are you taking American History or World History?”
“Uh…” Two years ago, Wayne Munson urged his nephew to exercise his newfound 26th Amendment Right to vote at the ripe age of eighteen for the 1984 Presidential Election. Granted, not so much newfound, given that Eddie was still falling off of monkey bars when protests about the monstrosity of what was going on Vietnam managed to lower the voting age; but nonetheless, Eddie had gotten severely tired of being bombarded by Reagan signs that infested every neighborhood street he drove past, enabling him to proudly wear Hawkins’ very own rendition of the ‘I Voted’ sticker. Though, the excitement was short lived, when the Munsons gruffed in disappointment watching Ronald Reagan win his reelection and haunt their lives for another four years to come. Eddie Munson didn’t know what the hell was going on with the world fifty years ago, but the CBS Morning News was raving about the wave of the conservative movement, talks of Gorbachev meeting Reagan was happening, something called the internet was kinda freaking him out, and Eddie Munson voted, so how’s that for American history for you?
“American- yeah, yeah, American History.”
“Perfect!” He followed your movements, and joined you on the couch, textbooks and cookies laid out in uniform perfection against the wood of your coffee table. Just for him. “With Mr. Conklin? Or Mendez?”
“Mendez.” At least, he did when he was still a junior and vandalizing the back desk with engravings of immature pornographic sketches.
“Oh! Donna’s also in that class.” Eye fucking roll. “She told me about that killer quiz you guys had today. Said something about how none of the questions were on the study guide that Mr. Mendez gave to y’all.”
Eddie drawed out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, yeah.” He lied right through his teeth. “I-It’s why I came to you, sweetheart! I completely flunked that quiz, and- well, then, you- you were just like this angel sent from heaven, offering your help.” He grinned watching you heat up from his heavy stare. “Just meant to be, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Your nerves flustered, as your teeth bit into your lip. “I’m happy to help you, Eds. Anytime you need.” You could feel his breath fanning across your cheeks. “Um, did you, uh, bring your books?” Actually getting a good look at him, Eddie hadn’t brought anything. At all. “Or, um, at least… some notes?”
A whistle of slow realization escaped Eddie’s mouth. “Uh… oh, y’know what happened? See, I was just spiraling from the quiz, a-and then I got so nervous for our tutoring lesson that, y’know, it just completely slipped my mind. I’m sorry, princess.”
“Oh, well, that’s okay.” A sweet reassurance came from your part. “We can just share my book.” You patted the distant space of cushion between you two, one which Eddie gladly took up.
And, my god, was he happy he did, because thighs touching thighs, scents mixing with scents, body pressed against body, and one look down, Eddie was exposed to the glory of low-cut shirts, and your tits presented themselves so beautifully to his eyesight. But a worn textbook weighing the size of a fat dog had slammed into his lap, and suddenly his eyes were tainted by the image of an old, white man who surely didn’t arouse him like the picture of your boobs.
“Great… Thomas Jefferson.” A tight-lipped smile concealed his dismay.
“Uh,” your shy giggle captivated his attention, “no, Eddie, that’s actually James Monroe.”
“Psh.” He puffed his cheeks, nonchalantly waving his hand in the air to brush off his blatant error of mistake. “Right. Totally knew that, sweetheart.”
“It’s okay if you didn’t.” You smiled. “I’m here to help you, remember?”
“Mhm.” His arm circled around your shoulders, letting your rest back in the comfortable bliss of soft cushions and his presence. He hummed seeing you tuck within yourself, thighs pressing into one another, and he could only imagine what you were trying to relieve. Because Eddie Munson had made you feel things. The sweet tingles you would get when you were alone at night and had all the time to yourself. When you would visualize what it would be like to have a boy like you, enough to want to be your boyfriend, and what you two would get up to. Lacey Fisher, four weeks ago, returned from her weekend birthday trip, and confided in you on how her boyfriend, Henry Aronofsky, took her virginity. She detailed to your curious mind that it had hurt. The initial intrusion, it stung. But then he kept going. And it started to feel good. But what was even better was the closeness. His body on hers. His lips on hers.
You craved that. And having Eddie’s domineering heat radiate on your skin had your pussy pulsating with a thumping tingle that you didn’t know what to do with. Eddie was cute. Cuter than Nathan Cavanugh, Bryce Walters, or Harrison Moran. Eddie Munson had an edge that made you question why your cotton underwear was becoming uncomfortably wet under his stare. How could Donna McIntyre not like him? He was scarily hot.
“W-What,” You cleared your throat, “what, um, period are you guys on… in Mr. Mendez’s class?”
Shit. “Uh…”
“It was period four, no?” You opened the textbook on his lap, flipping the silk pages to thumb through the chapters. “Donna had mentioned it, said she wanted me to help her study this weekend.”
Thank god for Donna McIntyre’s big ass mouth. Even if it did shit-talk him. “Yeah, yeah, period four, mhm.”
“Okay, so lucky for you, we will be talking about Thomas Jefferson today.” You chuckled. “Period four spans from 1800 to 1848, which will cover different aspects like the developmental growth of political parties as a result from the expansion of suffrage, and definitive aspects of American culture expounded by the Era of Good Feelings…”
Fuck me.
-
Eddie Munson sat through forty-seven minutes of the Jeffersonian Era, listening of the profoundness of the Revolution of 1800s, and America’s god given right to expansion and the manifest destiny- or whatever bullshit propaganda that damn textbook pounded out to high schoolers just to get to some pussy. But if the United States could gain the delusional superiority complex to conquer and prosper on westward, Eddie Munson could do the same- well, on you. This was just one obstacle. One hurdle. One step closer to obtaining his holy grail of getting his dream girl. Shoving a dozen of the triple chocolate chunk cookies you’d baked him was enough to get him through the painful lecture of the demise of the Federalist Party, though, the events of the Mexican-American War was interesting enough to get him into cheering on Mexican troops over Texan volunteers during the Battle of the Alamo, but enough was enough.
“…With the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, the U.S was able to gain the southwest territory, which would include New Mexico, Utah, Nevada, and California, but Mr. Mendez likes specifics, so also be sure to remember we gained the majority of Arizona and Colorado, which bled into parts of Kansas, Wyoming, and Oklahoma.” You huffed in one breath. “Oh! And recall the Monroe Doctrine! Given that we had now warned European countries of the potential threats that would happen if they continued to colonize the western hemisphere, the American win over Mexico had further cemented the U.S as growing world power, which gets into the promotion of democracy and isolationism, which we can get into next-”
“Okay, sweetheart, stop right there.” Eddie scrunched his eyes in agony, cutting you off from proffering anymore mush that was stirring in his already confused brain. “Sorry, uh- sorry, but, like, can we take a break?” He sighed.
“Oh.” Embarrassment rushed to your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, sometimes I can get too much into things, we can totally take a break or, um, call it a day if you’d like-”
“No, no, no, no.” He adamantly interjected, closing the textbook with crumpled notes of his compulsory—upon your request—chicken scratch handwriting, brandishing it away next to the crumb-filled platter that once was delicious baked goods. “No, baby, trust me, I don’t want the night to end.” He delicately nudged your chin with his finger, a teasing smile to pair. “I just got a little headache, s’all.”
“Well, are you sure you don’t want to leave to get some rest?” Your brows molded with concern. “We can pick this up tomorrow, or whenever you’re free.”
Eddie Munson played into his bluster of confidence, leaning in close to run a rough-tipped finger down the dough of your thigh, letting your skin wake and react to his heated touch. “What if I wanna rest here with you?” He whispered. “Have you take care of me?”
You gulped. “Um, l-like what?” You nervously giggled. “I can, like, make you soup for-for your headache.”
“Well, I was thinking more like we can lay down.” He pouted to emphasize his pained facade. “Will you take care of me in bed, baby?”
You licked your lips timidly. “Um, I-I don’t really know if that’s, like, a-appropriate for, um, study sessions. Like, I don’t want you to think I brought you here under the guise of doing… stuff.”
“You can say it, princess.” He smiled. “Say it. You didn’t bring me here to have sex.”
Hearing Eddie’s sultry voice whisper the word had sparked up the special tingles nestled between your thighs, and he could see the sensation consuming your being. “Um, y-yeah. I didn’t bring you here to h-have sex.” Heart racing, you could barely gain the courage to force your eyes upon him. “That’s what, um, Harrison thought when I offered to tutor him.”
“Aw, no, I know, pretty girl.” He cooed, as he firm hand squeezed down on your thigh, pressing the hem of your skirt high. Your sunken teeth had become your only extenuative from letting out a squeal from the jolting sensation. “God, those morons are just dicks. Don’t appreciate how good of a tutor you are. How much of a good girl you are. Right, baby? You’re just such a good girl looking to help, huh?”
You nodded to confirm his sentiment. “Yes, Eddie.”
His hand creeped to separate yours, where they stayed tightly clasped within one another, and he rubbed his fingers against the softness of your warm palm, before confining your hand with his. “Why don’t we go to your room to just relax for a bit, sweetheart? You smell so good, bet your room smells just like you. I love it so much.”
“Uh…”
“It’ll make me feel so much better, princess.” He cajoled. “C’mon, that’s what friends do, right? You said it yourself, sweetheart.”
“And then we’ll study again?” You eyed him with a twinkle in your eyes.
“Man, you really like history, huh?” He teased with a chuckle.
“Of course!” You happily answered, which had him smiling at your enthused face that glowed giddily. “Why wouldn’t I like something I’m good at?” Spoken with all the confidence.
Eddie softly laughed in admiration. “You’re so cute.” He gave your thigh another tender squeeze. “Why don’t we do this: you make me feel good, like friends do, and I promise to make you feel extra good?” He stuck out a promising pinky, as he watched you consider his all too innocent proposition. “I’ll make you feel so good, precious.” He whispered.
“Just relaxing? A small break?”
“Mhm.” He smirked. Fairly ambiguous; not necessarily a lie if not clearly verbalized. But just enough to get you alone in your bedroom. Pinky promised.
Hands held together, you guided Eddie Munson through the halls of your house to reach your beloved bedroom, where secrecy and intimacy laid between the silks and cottons of your sheets. Each step had Eddie’s dick thumping with excitement, just as anticipated as his heartbeat racing out of his chest. You had never had a boy in your room. In fact, this would have to go untold to the authority of your mother and father, too archaic to understand the innocence of it all. Because that’s all it was. Right? Helping a friend in need to aid him to recovery. Headaches can be killer. Mrs. Weber's fourth period chemistry class often had you succumbed with migraines. Science wasn’t like history. As how Eddie Munson wasn’t like Harrison Moran. He wouldn’t do you as the star quarterback tried with you. Because Eddie Munson was different. Nothing like Donna McIntyre tried to get you to believe. He was different. Right?
“We can just relax here for a bit.” You spoke, as you both entered the confines of your room.
The essence of your own personal girlhood defined the sacred space of your room. Where clean, white walls brightened the mood, personal pictures and feminine posters had livened it up. Sweetness had invaded Eddie’s nose, as he was surely met with the arousing smell of your perfume, predicted to the exact notion. Gold jewelry, the one that complemented your skin beautifully, where dainty necklaces would become suffocated in the valley of your tits, where shiny earrings would decorate your earlobes that Eddie wanted to mouth on, had displayed themselves neatly amongst the products of beauty and self care. Pinks and silks, frills and lace, embodying your sweetness to a T. Effeminate in all aspects of nature.
And Eddie Munson was ready to defile everything.
Unabashedly, Eddie had breached beyond the realms of a visitor’s right, and taken advantage of the whole ‘make yourself at home’ sentiment that you had actually never spoken; nonetheless, he’d marched his way to your comforting bed occupied by a number of stuffed animals that unfairly got the privilege of seeing you in your most intimate times.
He splayed himself on the expanse of cushions, a groan leaving his mouth as he relished in the feeling of a bed that wasn’t stabbing of springs, starfishing the expanse that left you giggling on the sideline. “What’re you laughin’ at, you little punk?” He perked.
“Don’t be mean.” You laughed, watching him grab onto one of the many companions that inhabited your bed.
“Mm, I think I’m deserving of pokin’ a little fun at someone who owns like fifty stuffed animals.” He smirked, as he beckoned you with a curling finger.
Given his limbs had almost entirely taken up the breadth of your bed, you were left to sit back on your heels, posture pristine as ever, with your hands neatly kept on the safety of your thighs. Such a sight for sore eyes. Brazen without a care, he hungrily eyed you top to bottom. Bitten lips to round boobs to soft waist to expanding hips. Your revealing skirt inching away and away, giving him a sneak peak to his next meal.
But while his stares lingered on your body, yours had unintentionally followed suit. Laid flat, the apparent bulge beneath worn denim did not hold merit to the art of concealment, and a quiet gasp left your mouth as you scolded yourself for even peering at your newfound friend like that. “N-Not fifty.” You sternly stated with a smile to get your head straight. “Just four.”
“Still a lot.” He said, investigating the furriness of a chubby bumblebee, one where pink and white instead took over the naturally occurring black and yellow.
“Oh.” His comment had suddenly hit you in a way that made you shame with embarrassment. Unbeknownst to him, of course, he was still finding amusement in the flappy wings of the plushy insect. “Um, d-do you think it’s, like, childish? N-Not mature?” You scratched the back of your neck. Perhaps it was the attachment to the juvenile interest—referred to as by Montgomery Davis, a former love interest that didn’t last too long—that prohibited you from finding an adequate boy to be with.
He had chuckled at the fat stinger. There’s no way that could impale someone. But he had heard the apprehension in your voice, peering up from your stuffed animal to see your more than disappointed face. “Oh, no, baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” He quickly forwent Bugsbee the Bee to the side, as a calloused hand landed on your knee for reassurance. Sitting up, Eddie Munson overstepped the boundaries of a tutee to whisper his hot breath against your lips. “I fuckin’ love ‘em. So cute, babe. Just like you.”
“Really?” Your dough eyes scanned his face.
“Would I ever lie to you, sweetheart?” He pinched your cheek. “That’s just not what friends do.” He smiled, as he laid back down. “So, is that what you like to do for fun? Get stuffed animals?”
“Um, not necessarily.” You beamed. “I just like having them around, you know? Keep me company for the things I do like to do.”
“Like what, baby?” He squeezed your knee. “Tell me all that you like doing.”
“Well, let's see, oh, uh, I love journaling. Like, writing my feelings down.” He nodded along, prodding as encouragement for further information. “Uh, typically it started out just in the morning, like, when I wake up, I’d write about what I’d like to accomplish for the day. But then, I kinda realized it’d be nice to vent after a long day, so now, I really just do it whenever.” You shrugged.
Boys didn’t care about this stuff, but Eddie Munson asked questions. “Yeah?" He grinned. “That sounds nice, baby. Feels like some therapy shit I need.” He chuckled. “Does it make you feel good to write about your feelings?”
“Yeah!” You happily answered. “Um, sometimes it's hard to talk about what I’m feeling to my friends. Like, Donna, for example; she’s got her whole life planned out, she’s so smart. If it’s hard for me to understand what I’m feeling, then I know Donna won’t. I’m scared she’ll judge me.”
“Donna’s a bitch.” He gruffed, with a groan of disdain.
“No, don’t say that, that’s mean.” You chastised him. “She’s my friend, Eddie.”
“Right, right, sorry, baby.” He quickly made up for it. “It’s just hard to get along with her, s’all. But, uh, this journaling… what kinda feelings do you write about? Like, uh, I don’t know, private ones? You can tell me, honey.”
You nervously laughed, squirming in the seated position of being on your calves. “Y-Yeah, like, uh, well sometimes I worry that I won’t ever get, like, a real boyfriend. Like, a serious relationship. Not like whatever gross hookup the boys at our school want. I don’t want that.”
Eddie caressed the skin of your leg. “Totally, babe. Don’t waste your time with the little boys at our school. You need a real man, huh? Someone who’s gonna take care of their pretty girl.” He smirked, as you nodded in agreement.
Your heart lumped out of your chest, as you followed the languid movements of his large hand encapsulating your bent knee. His touch felt fiery against your skin, creating a series of goosebumps in his guided path, like a mark of territory. Your thighs, once again, clenched at his mercy. Seeing the prominent blue veins reveal themselves from under his alabaster skin had you striked with a familiar heated tingle. The tingles you’d have to satiate alone at night. “You think I can find someone like that?” You softly asked with all vulnerability.
Eddie snaked his hand upward to gently hold one of yours. “Ugh, absolutely, princess, are you crazy? Sexiest and sweetest thing in the world, remember I told you? I meant it, baby. Sometimes you just gotta look right in front of you.” He smugly smiled. Your mouth went dry, as you attempted to ease your flustered smile. “Just like me, I need a princess to take care of.”
“Mhm, you deserve someone nice, Eddie.”
“But, uh, I also need someone who’s not gonna judge me.” He perfected a pout that had you sympathizing at his feet. “Y’know, like I said before, some people are just so mean, wouldn’t understand me. Would you judge me, princess?”
“Oh, no! Never, Eddie! Solemnly, I understand the feeling, I’d never do that to you.” You preached with such vehemence, it had Eddie’s blood pooling to the length of his dick with a sickening smile eating his face.
“So, you wouldn’t judge me if I told you what I like to do for fun, baby?” He played with your fingers, an act of innocence that had your heart soaring.
“Nuh-uh.” You affirmed with a shake of your head. “You can tell me.” You delicately approached.
“Well, sweetheart, I really really love touching myself.” He whispered, reveling in the sensation of your hand automatically squeezing his in a tightening hold, eyes rounding in surprise. “I do it all the time, sweetheart.”
“Oh.” Flustered beyond recognition, the single word had become the only thing trusted to speak, as his admission had ignited millions of sparkling tingles, letting a gush of wetness uncomfortably soak your precious underwear.
He sneered with delight in power. “You’re not judgin’ me, are ya, baby?”
“No, no!” You rushed out. “I, uh- it’s totally n-normal… um, doing that. People- everyone does it.”
“Yeah?” He piqued with interest, watching you unfold into his ingenious trap. “You do it, too, princess?”
Your cheeks were invaded by hot blood, tainting your face with humiliation at the thought of giving up such intimate information. But he was your friend. You didn’t want him to feel judged. And lying was awful. Taught by the man, himself, Honest Abe. Great, and now history was being brought up again! It felt as if the devil had blown his burning breath to flame your face with embarrassment, but the devil was enticing, inching you to the darkside, where you’d be gifted with the persuasion of pure hedonism for the rest of your life. Eddie Munson was the devil. Materialized in the most euphoric way possible.
You were wriggling, letting spiking friction torment your pussy under his glare. He was waiting. “Um, y-yeah, Eddie. I-I do it. Sometimes.”
An airy groan left his mouth, one he didn’t obscure, simply letting it out for you to witness. “Mm, I knew you would. Pretty girls like you love to touch themselves.” Holding his hand seemed to be the only form of comfort to enduring his gross words. You didn’t want to let go. “Love rubbing your pussy, don’t you baby?”
You didn’t like that word. But words deemed filthy by your definition only seemed to burn you coming from the mouth of Eddie Munson, himself. Harrison Moran once said he’d like to see your pussy. It made you scowl in disgust, and kick him out. But Eddie Munson had you enamored.
“Yeah.” You whispered bluntly, feeling that his trust could leave you to softly speak with no repercussion.
“Tell me, sweetheart, with your fingers?” He embraced your hand. “You play with your pussy with your fingers, put ‘em inside to fuck yourself?” Before you could reason, your head had taken the liberty to shake itself for you. No. Eddie’s brow lifted in confusion. Not to define you by the shyness of your nature, but you hadn’t necessarily struck the pervert, himself, as a user of sex toys. Well, at least, he hoped not. Something about introducing you to the world of vibrators and dildos made his cock jump with joy. “You don’t finger yourself?
“Hands are too small.” You meekly answered, so lightly he could barely hear it.
“What do you do then, baby?”
Perhaps the alchemy of wizardry and spell casting from his beloved hobby of Dungeons and Dragons had magically manifested itself into his current reality—at the very least, it felt as though it had—as Eddie Munson’s words had you reeling in a sudden candid behavior too unfamiliar to your prospective nature. Not to say fibbery came as an innate trait for you, in fact, you honored yourself in the frankness of your words.
But you had never acted on impulsion.
And it felt as though Eddie’s provocative language had you destined at his mercy, forcing your body to act with no regards. There was no thinking under his gaze. No hesitation. For the briefest second of quickness, your eyes had landed in the ivory plush of an adorably stuffed bunny sat just three inches away from his shoulder, that had answered his ribald question.
Your cheeks had ablazened when his quick eye followed your glance that lingered in the air. The corner of his lip had disgustingly peaked into a diabolical smirk, as his perverted mind exploded at the revelation. “Aw, sweetheart.” He groaned, a curious hand reaching out for your bunny.
“No, Eddie!” You tried to jeopardize his movements with urgency. “D-Don’t touch it, it’s not-”
“What is it, sweetheart?” He picked up the bunny, despite your protests. Eddie examined the cute stuffy, his perverted reflection shining back at him through the glassy, round eyes that mimicked your humiliated ones. “Shit, princess, you rub your pretty pussy on your bunny, hm? Does humping your stuffed animal feel better than fucking your fingers inside your cunt?”
“Eddie.” You whined with embarrassment, so shamefaced, dropping your head in your hands to conceal your burning expression.
“It’s okay, darlin’.” He smiled, loving the twisted feeling of having his dick pulsate at your sheepish state. Eddie pried your hands away, revealing your timid face to him. “Remember, baby, I’m not judgin’ you, I just wanna know. Friends, they tell each other everything and help one another out, you gotta tell me, baby.” With a single hand gripping both your wrists tightly, you refused to look him in the eye, fear consuming you at the thought of Eddie Munson finding you gross for your actions. A wave of tears were threatening your eyes, and you hoped peering at the organized clutter of your nightstand would be enough to withstand the mortifying experience of crying after having him learn what you did.
“You’re gonna make fun of me.” Your trembling lip managed to mutter out.
“Aw, no, baby, I would never.” He turned your chin to force you to face him. “Honestly, sweetheart, thinkin’ of you doing that is so sexy.” He groaned with a bite to his lip. “God, picturing you humping your little stuffed animal has me feeling a little hot, see.” His hand deserted your face to rake over his pronouncing bulge, that seemed larger than before. “Mm, got me so worked up, baby. This is all your fault.” He moaned, squeezing his cock with a heavy hand.
Your mouth had opened at the sight of him touching himself over his pants. Those funny tingles had bursted between your thighs, and so insecurely, you questioned him. “Really?”
“Ugh, absolutely, babe.” He returned to your bunny, laying back to play with the small arms of your teddy, as his hand remained stationed on his boner, massaging his erection with breathy grunts leaving his mouth. “You’re so fucking beautiful, princess.” While attempting to ease your emotional nerves, Eddie had taken a good look at your bunny, the evidence of your usage being found in the matted fur surrounding the pink nose of your innocent companion. “Shit, did you fuck yourself this morning, baby?”
“That’s why I didn’t want you to touch it!” You dreaded. “I promise I’ll clean it, give it here-”
A loud gasp left your mouth, as Eddie rejected your request, bringing your stuffed bunny nose to nose, inhaling a waft of the lingering scent of your pussy. His eyes closed in ecstasy, moaning loudly as your raw smell invaded his being, rubbing the tent in his pants harshly for any form of relief. “Fuck, baby, you smell so good. I gotta touch myself.” He flung your precious stuffed animal back, in reach for his belt, cursing under his breath as his abrasive movements momentarily caused the leather to tighten when needing to be off.
“W-What?” Your brows jumped to crease your forehead.
“I can’t help it, baby, you’ve got me so fucking hard right now.” Eddie tugged opened his belt, rushing to undo the brass button of his pants. “Fuck, you’re not gonna judge me, right? That’s not what friends do. In fact, friends help each other out. Especially when they’re as sexy as you, baby.”
Swollen to a girth of thickness, Eddie’s cock smacked out with eagerness to fuck, and his precum oozed out, as he watched your face morph into surprise at seeing the first cock in your life. His ringed hand wrapped around himself, cursing under his breath as he felt the jolts of pleasure crash over him. “I touch myself like this, baby, fuck.” He squeezed the head of his cock, smearing his precum down to his base. “Do it so much to you, god, fuck me, princess, I think about you all the time. Can’t stop myself from jerking off at the thought of your pretty, little face.” Eddie whined.
Your lips stayed stationed agape from the divulgence and sight of what was occurring in front of you. You hadn’t even prospered the fact that your body was reacting more candidly than your mind had anticipated, and Eddie nearly blew his load watching your thighs swish against one another to relieve your arousal. “Y-You think about me?” You delicately spoke.
“Of course, fuck, fucking look at yourself, mm.” He tightened his grip. “Shit, baby, are you feeling horny, too? Is lookin’ at me making you wanna rub that fucking pussy?”
“U-Um, I-I don’t know.” Nervous eyes attempt to look around for anything that wasn’t Eddie Munson masturbating in your bed. “I-I don’t wanna do anything… anything bad. I don’t wanna get in trouble, Eds.”
“No, no, baby, it’s not bad, it’s good- so fucking good.” He sucked in his breath, as his hand picked up the pace. “Fuck, you’ll feel so good, darlin’- let me make you feel good, princess.” Eddie heaved, inching his large hand up your thigh until his fingers brushed your risened skirt. “Don’t tell anyone, and we won’t get in trouble.”
You watched with heavy pants, as Eddie’s strength managed to dig his fingers into the fat of your inner thigh to part them, and reveal those drenched baby pink panties he so perfectly predicted in the filth hive of his mind. “L-Like this- um, Eddie I’ve never done this with someone else, I-I don’t what to do-”
“Shh, shh.” He demanded, saving your breath from a wrecking tirade of being inexperienced. “Just let me touch you like good friends do.” His fingertips skimmed the puddle in your panties, causing an unwarranted squeal to escape your mouth, as you bucked your hips into his touch. “Oh, my-”
“Mm, Eds, you’re making me feel funny!” You attempted to close your legs, but his hand was quick to lightly slap your thigh in refusal.
“Don’t fucking close your legs, fuck, just let me touch you.” His grip held you exposed to him, and he was aggressive with the way the pad of thumb smushed against your covered clit, forcing you to ball your sheets into your tightening fists.
A guttural moan was ripped from you, as his thumb worked intricately to circle your clit, letting your hips ride his fingers. “E-Eddie!”
“That’s right, just hump my fucking hand, baby.” He whined, as he continued to jerk his cock, until his hips were following in sync with yours; his pivoting to thrust into his hand, yours grinding in desperate need for release. “Shit, touch me like I’m touching you- fuck, put your hands on me.”
Eddie’s slick hand grappled onto your wrist, pulling your resisting fist from your balled blanket onto his dick, where he maneuvered your fingers to wrap around his girth and mimic the strokes he once gave himself. A surge of wetness gushed at your given ability to elicit a deep groan from Eddie Munson. Seeing him react to your touch as such spurred a wave of confidence to continue your ministration, tightening your grip around his dick and providing him the languid movements that had his heavy sack pulsating with a need to cum.
But Eddie Munson’s ego was growing expeditiously.
And he wasn’t about to be putty in your hands- your oh so tiny, soft hands that gripped him like a vice and made him to want to fuck it for an eternity. No. Not when his hand was cupping your hot pussy, fingers becoming moist through your wet underwear, as they dug between your lips to rub that sensitive little clit and had you whimpering at his command.
“Fuck, stand up, princess.” He shoved your hand off his cock, simultaneously choosing to regrettably tear his away from the warmth of your cunt.
Whining in despair, you stuttered. “W-What? Why?”
“Because,” Eddie positioned himself to the edge of bed, grabbing your hand to guide onto wobbly feets, pins and needles pricking your legs as they woken from their previous position, “I’m gonna put my cock between your pretty, little lips.”
Manspreading, his thighs parted for your residence, Eddie’s penis burning red with desire, as it hung heavy against his abdomen, each protruding vein slimed with a coat of his precum. His hands rested on your hips, and he smirked as he took in the sight of your body, one he desired so much to just touch and violate for his pleasure. The blatantly obvious was shown in your face; your undivided attention had primarily focused on his dick, and he couldn’t help the chuckle of egotism that erupted from his chest, as he smoothed down the bumps and curves of your body.
“Aw, you like looking at my cock, princess?” He sneered with a drenching voice of condescendment that had your head snapping with embarrassment.
“I-I’m sorry-”
“No, no, baby, don’t be.” Eddie’s focus began shifting to the hem of your shirt, teasing it up to reveal the soft navel of your belly. “It’s all yours to look at. Just like your pussy is all mine.” He bit his lip. “Especially when I fuck my cock inside of you, hm, you gonna let me, baby?”
That had your chest heaving with bursts of nerves, both good and bad. To know Eddie wanted that closeness with you was profoundly what had your heart fluttering with the idea of him loving you to a committed relationship. One where he was a boy calling you his girlfriend, and you were a girl calling him your boyfriend. But Lacey Fisher’s words had suddenly begun playing in your head like a record on loop. “It hurt.”
And Eddie Munson’s cock was pulsating at a length in which both of your hands had to wrap around his girth just to mount it.
“Um, I-I don’t, uh- Eddie I’ve never done that b-before… I want you, like, to be my boyfriend, right? Like, this is what boyfriend-girlfriends do? B-But maybe I should wait- or we should… as boyfriend and girlfriend.”
There was a little hint in your voice. The way you suggested your ending in a lighter octave, fear that Eddie didn’t want to be your boyfriend, that he’d be just like Harrison Moran. But Eddie Munson wasn’t Harrison Moran, and his smile lit up at the timidness of your stature.
His dream girl.
“I get to be your boyfriend, baby?” He leaned in to press a tender kiss upon your thigh.
A shy smile corrupted your face, as you nodded to his question. “Mhm! Is it okay if we kiss like boyfriend and girlfriend?”
He chuckled at your cuteness, squeezing the meat of your legs in frustration at the overload he was feeling for you. “Of course, princess, c’mere.” Bending slightly at the waist, Eddie took the liberty of enduring most of the labor of stretching as far as he could until his lips crashed upon yours. Your mouth just as sweet as your being, Eddie moaned at the moisturizing sensation of the vanilla strawberry lip gloss that conjoined you together. His hands were aggressive to suddenly keep your cheeks in place, forbidding you to leave his mouth until he was ready to let go. It’s why you squealed when learning Eddie had no shame being the messy kisser he was; pushing his tongue between your lips, clashing teeth with teeth, consuming your mouth, and plunging an obscene amount of spit to your tongue, as his ravished in exploration. “Mm, fuck, love kissing you.” His delirious voice murmured against your lips. “Remember, honey,” he finished you off with one more peck, “you can’t tell Donna and friends about this. Not about how we got together, okay?” Eddie stroked your face. “They wouldn’t understand, only say mean things about you and me.”
“Okay.” You quietly agreed, wanting to protect your boyfriend from the harsh words Donna would possibly say. How could she pull you away under the guise of protection, when Eddie Munson’s been nothing but sweet to you? What was she seeing that you weren’t? Surely, you always kept your mouth closed, deciding against your sour opinion of Tucker Walsh, who Donna had on-and-off dated for months.
“Yeah, you’ll be a good girl and won’t tell anyone?” He cooed, stroking your face.
“Uh-huh.” You gently beamed, seeing his eyes scan your face with proudness.
“Perfect.” Eddie pecked your nose. “Now, c’mon, sweetie, don’t you wanna show your boyfriend your tits? Always dreamed of seeing ‘em.” Untrustworthy of your awkward movements, you had let Eddie take the reins, simply standing straight to have him, once again, persist the labor of handling you to undress in front of him. His fingers tickled your sides, as they grappled with your shirt to pull it over your head, and spring your tits from the confinements of the tight material. Eddie dramatically sucked in his breath upon sight, mumbling swears because your nipples had hardened from the chill air. “So fucking pretty- fucking beautiful, sweet girl.” He groaned, taking advantage of your topless self, and having a squeeze at your boobs.
“Y-You think I’m beautiful?” You whimpered, loving the beguiling feeling of his callouses scraping your tits, only to pull and pinch at your sensitive nipples.
“So fucking beautiful.” Eddie was quick to answer, placing a kiss to your belly button, which had butterflies fluttering in your stomach, making you swoon over your kind boyfriend. Boyfriend. “Most gorgeous fucking girl I’ve ever seen. Just wanna be with you so bad- always wanted to be with you, sweetheart.”
“You are with me… now.” You giggled, which had him grinning salaciously.
“Yeah, I am, huh?” He hand traveled down to your skirt, playing with the soft fabric. “Got the prettiest girl in school at my hands, I’m so fucking lucky.” He teased his way to the hem of your underwear, teetering between gently pulling them down, only to secure them back in place just to have your squirming with want. “I want you to do somethin’ for me, baby, okay? Just wanna see you out of these cute, little panties, but, honey, turn around and do it.”
Ready to please him, you obliged, turning your backside to him, leaving you to look back and watch him sit back to enjoy the incoming show, as his hand wrapped around his cock and, once again, began his slow strokes. “Like this?”
“Mhm.” He breathily sighed. “Just bend over real deep, princess, so I can see up your skirt, and I wanna- fuck, I wanna see you take off your panties just like that, shit.”
Eddie Munson was a little weird.
But maybe that’s what makes your boyfriend so interesting. Getting to know him will be fun. But for right now, you’d do as he says. The idea of making him happy made your heart flutter with joy, as a little voice in your head spoke to you that Eddie Munson was there to make you happy, as well. Bending forward, your skirt had completely risen, exposing your ass to him and that darkened spot in your panties waving at him as a tempting testament to how horny he was making you feel.
“God, what a fucking ass.” Eddie grunted, spurring his hips to fuck up into his hand. “Go ahead and take those panties off, baby, show me what’s waiting for me.”
Grabbing the lace of your underwear, you tugged down the cotton, fighting the bit of resistance from when Eddie’s fingers buried your panties between the lips of your pussy. But they peeled off, showing him strings of sticky wetness that clung to the gusset and glistened your cunt. Eddie had to immediately stop touching himself, almost shooting his cum out from the sight of your puffed pussy lips squished between your thighs. As your panties teased down your legs, pooling at your ankles, you were startled from the abrupt groping from your boyfriend, feeling him grab handfuls of your cheeks that kept you spread wide, as you stood straight.
“Eddie!” You shrieked into small laughter.
“Oh, my god, you’re gonna fucking kill, baby, fuck, look at you- this ass, look at this fucking wet pussy.” He kneaded the dough of your butt, before placing a stinging spank to watch the fat jiggle from his heavy hand.
“Ow, Eddie!”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He was quick to land delicate kisses to the burning area, as the incriminating hand ran over your skin to soothe you. “Just can’t fucking help it.” Securing your hips, Eddie turned you around until your pretty face was smiling down at him, letting his cock twitch with all love and adoration for you.
“What now?” He loved your curiosity. Getting to corrupt your innocent mind into wanting more, until you were his eager slut, begging to shove his cock into all your holes until you were leaking his cum.
“Now,” he smiled, reaching behind him to bring forth your plushie bunny, one tainted with your cum and it had his dick jumping for joy, “you’re gonna show me how you fuck your little bunny, baby.” You swallowed thickly at his request, a twinge of embarrassment coursing through you at the request of showing Eddie something so carnal. But he was your boyfriend. And you could find trust in your boyfriend to make you feel good. “But I also need you to work that little mouth around my cock, honey. Can you do that? Suck it for me?”
You feared disappointing him. “I-I don’t know how. I’m sorry.”
“No, no, it’s okay, I’ll teach you, baby. Just get on your knees for me, yeah?” Last month, Eddie nearly combusted into the crotch area of his jeans watching you suck on a red lollipop during the chaotic minutes of lunch. Safe to say, an entire monologue teasing the meaning behind the potential return of hooded cultists had been ruined in the midst of advertising his upcoming campaign to his eager friends, who embarrassingly had to watch their Dungeon Master choke on his spit, when Eddie found your tongue twirling around the cherry ball of candy, only to suck up the syrupy saliva into you mouth. The head of his cock was no different than that lollipop. You’d do just fine.
Letting your knees rub against your carpeted floor, your hands find perch onto his denim thighs, and you outlined the length of his cock with eyes, wondering how something of that thickness could fit into your mouth. Eddie parted ways with his pants, shuffling out of the rough material, with a metal chain and leather belt clanking along the way, to ensure enough room to have you get off on your stuffed animal.
“Go ahead, baby, start humping your little stuffie for me.” Eddie had meticulously placed your bunny between your legs, watching you for the moment your pussy came in contact with the nub of its nose.
Eddie hissed at the affliction of pain from your nails digging into his hairy thighs, as you became too enlivened by the friction of your clit grinding against your little bunny to account for the provocation you were besetting against him. But Eddie Munson loved it. His immoral mind found arousal in watching you abuse his skin from pleasure, compelling his cock to jerk with profound need.
“Yeah, feel good, princess? Rubbin’ that fucking pussy?” You pathetically nodded, gentle whispers of whimpers leaving your mouth, as you humped your teddy with all conviction. “God, just love usin’ that little bunny as a fuck toy, huh?” He pinched your chin to force your glossy gaze upon him. “Just like I’m gonna use you, right, honey?”
“Mhm, oh my- mm, fuck!” Your tummy clenched, as your hips picked up the momentum to circle the stuffed animal's face, and defile its fur with your wetness.
“Yeah, you’re gonna be my sweet, little bunny?” Eddie’s thumb began pulling at your bottom lip, leaving him cursing as it bounced back to its plumpness. “My sweet, little bunny who’s gonna be my little fuck toy to use whenever?”
“Y-Yes, Eddie… whenever.”
“Fuck, open that pretty fucking mouth for me, and stick out that tongue, baby.” Holding his cock up, Eddie smiled as you obliged so kindly, letting him smack the angry tip of his dick against your tongue, as you finally got a taste of him.
“This w-will make you feel good, mm?” You pondered through mumbles, as you lost yourself in the sensation of pussy buzzing from the burning friction against your clit.
“Yes, baby, fuck, just keep your mouth open.” Eddie’s hand fell heavy upon the top of your head, as he beckoned you to take him deeper, letting his cock to become enveloped in the soft warmth of your mouth. It became no question of whether this would feel good for him, the guttural moan that left his mouth upon intrusion had your hips bucking with fervency.
The viscid coating of his cock with pungent precum made you hum, igniting a series of grunts from your boyfriend, as hissing vibrations exploded in his body. Eddie guided your hands to the base of his cock, encouraging you to massage the leftover that wasn’t occupied by your mouth. “Fuck, yes! Make it messy, baby, just spit all over it!”
Eddie Munson sat back in rhapsody, losing himself in the delirium of having you choke on his cock, as your spit puddled his length, escaping your lips as you suckled on the frenulum of his head. His hair cascaded down, letting his body become too heavy to support as your mouth was bringing him a gratifying high that he never wanted to come down from. Your humps grappled against thumping his thumping veins, enclosing him into a vice grip that had him moaning at your mercy.
“Mm, sh-shit, princess, your—ugh, aaahh—mouth!” He huffed against his restricting lungs. Eddie’s hips began to mimic your bucking, as you moaned at the fizzing rub of your bunny scratching that greedy itch on your clit, allowing him to shove his cock to the gummy constriction of your throat, forcing you to gag on his invasive cock. Sweet spit raining down to his heavy balls, letting his pelvis of bushy pubes become soak with your secretion.
You pulled off with a sore throat, thick strings of spit sticking from his cock to your lips, as your watering eyes scarily gleamed up at him. “Ugh! Y-Your too big- I can’t-”
“Yes, you can, fuck, it’s feels so fucking nice when you choke!” He urged your head back down, now blubbering with a need to finish on your tongue. “J-Just keep fucking yourself, shit! Don’t stop until I tell you.”
Your tongue reached to tickle the underside of his dick, memorizing his stern rigids that had your jaw hurting from breaking open. Eddie sat up to spy down your backside, where he virtually lost it at the sight of your ass cheeks recoiling from the lively movements of your hips humping your stuffy. “Ugh, you gonna cum, sweetheart?” He cupped your face, guiding your languid movements up and down his cock, as you went through the endeavor of nodding to his question. “Fucking cum, baby, cum all over your little bunny!” He demanded.
His heavy hand landed on the back of your head, shoving your face to become suffocated in the unruliness of his pubic hair. Nose inhaling his musk, you sputtered on his cock, gagging at his length prodding at the back of your throat, all to bring Eddie’s long arm down to reach for your ass. A burning sting from a substantial slap had you wailing on his fat cock, “Fucking faster.” He dictated your movements, spurring your hips to drive into the plushy with spanks to your tormented ass. “Cum with me, fuck! M’gonna cum! Cum, baby, cum!”
The bundle of nerves in your pussy began detaching from one another, like a rope inching to snap. Rutting into your stuffed animal, your muffled moans were buzzing his cock, bringing you to the brink of a gushing explosion. Your thrusting became uncoordinated, as your tummy bursted with euphoria, and your release adulterated your white bunny.
Sobbing on his cock, his stomach muscles tightened into an agonizing cramp, as his balls clenched to pump out his seed, flooding your throat with his hot cum. “Ah! Shit, shit, shit—ugh! Fuck me!” Gagging, your hands repeatedly swatted his thick thighs—decorated with the crescents and blistering scratches of your nails—to release you from potentially vomiting on his dick.
His hand relinquished his hold, allowing you to come up for air. Gasping, struggling to find a breath of fresh air, as a concocted mixture of spit and cum dribbled out from your mouth, but you had no hesitation licking your lips to consume the strange taste of his release.
“Holy shit, that was incredible!” Eddie dropped back onto your bed, hands gripping his sweaty curls, as he urged his mind to collect the events that just transpired before him. Chest heaving, teeth gritted, skin moist, this- this is what that Belinda chick was singing about! It wasn’t until a warm head landed on his thighs, that his thoughts jumped to prioritize your wellbeing. In retrospect, the notion of his sticky balls pressing into your temple with his flaccid cock resting upon your forehead shouldn’t have been so idyllic to Eddie Munson, but my god, was his heart constricting at your exhausted state—half-lidded eyes begging for rest, plump lips parted for airy breaths, and your manicured fingers delicately tracing against the hairs of his thigh to soothe the injuries you were beginning to feel remorseful for inflicting.
His hand gently stroking your cheek, garnering your attention, letting you tiredly peer up at his rosy state of pink cheeks and glistening skin. “You okay, princess? Too much? I shouldn’t have gone so rough, I’m sorry, baby. Fuck, just lost myself, you felt so good.”
“It’s okay.” Your saccharine voice assured him. “You’re my boyfriend, you can do anything to me.”
Eddie Munson lovingly smiled at you, as he caressed your hot face. “As long as you want it. Only. Okay?” You nodded with confirmation, and you gazed up at your boyfriend with endearing eyes that had him bubbling with devotion to you. “Such a good girl, did you cum?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I promised to make you feel extra good, didn’t I, baby?” He smirked. “C’mere.” His strength guided you onto your bed, laying you against your cloud-like pillows, before reaching down to grab a hold of your bunny. Soiled with your cum, Eddie’s menacing grin cracked through his face, as he lightly pressed a finger into the wet fur. Your tummy stirred watching his tongue delve into the drenchness, and humming with delight. “Fuck, your pussy taste so good.” He groaned, discarding your stuffy to climb between your thighs.
Steady on his knees over you, he peeled off his ragged shirt, exposing his ivory skin of sharp bumps and squishy softness, ornamented with scary images of permanent ink your parents would surely scowl at if they ever saw. You beamed at him. “You’re so pretty, Eddie.”
His teeth stabbed into his lips, as he teasingly smiled with giddiness. “Thank you, darling. Never as pretty as you, though.”
While wanting the intimacy, you couldn’t help the surge of anxious nerves that brought an onslaught against you, as Eddie began trying to liven his cock with small strokes while eyeing your glistening pussy. “W-Wait, um…” His brows jumped into his bangs, as he awaited your concerns. “No.” You swallowed thickly. “Eddie, I’m not ready for… that.”
He could be Harrison Moran. He could break up with you. He could scoff at your prudeness. But Eddie Munson was simply a perverted man who devoted his longing into the beautiful girl that graced the halls of Hawkins High. He wasn’t Harrison Moran. And you learned that as Eddie stayed silent, merely leaning down to place an electrifying kiss to your lips, pouring out all his adoration for the girl that captivated his dreams every night for the past two years.
“I still wanna keep my word, sweetheart.” He murmured into your kiss. “Can I do something else?”
You meekly looked into his darkwood eyes. “Will it hurt?”
“Not at all, princess.” He eased the scrunch of your worriment brows with a peck to your forehead. “I’d never hurt you.”
With the nod of your head and the words of your mouth, Eddie had your corroboration to do as he please, and his mouth had traveled down the junction of your neck, sucking small love bruises to the column length; to the valley of your breasts, where his lips unclosed your hardened nipples with gentle suckles; and the softness of your bell, decorating your stomach with appreciative kisses that made you feel beautiful to the touch; before his breath became hot over your needy cunt. Sugary kisses of mawkish desire met the plushness of your inner thighs, inching to your swollen pussy lips, irritated and slick from the rawness of rubbing against your bunny.
His long tongue dragged its way to part your cunt, leaving your breath to hitch at the newfound contact of his wet muscle ravishing you. If this is anything close to what he felt when your mouth was on him, surely you could forgive him for the bruised throat you’d have to aid in the following morning. Eddie became brutally gluttonous at the tangy arousal he slurped from your pulsating hole. So small and unused, he’d have a fucking field day when the moment would come he could drill his cock into you virgin pussy.
The tip of tongue burned against your abused clit, agonizingly teasing swirls around the nub just to flick it with fervency, and have you crawling away from the unbearable overstimulation. “E-Eddie!” You stumbled for air. Your foot had planted itself against his hot forehead at an brutish attempt to push his determined mouth away, but Eddie Munson triumphed you in the realms of physical strength, and his arm had pried you open, before securing themselves to ground your squirming thighs.
Latched like a leech, Eddie was becoming feverish from the deliriums of being pussy drunk. Sucking onto your clit, his head shook to abuse you, forcing the muscles in your legs to tighten with trembles. Your scent had engulfed him, as his nose smushed against your clit to snake his tongue into the clenching walls of your velvet pussy. Incoherent words were tumbling into your pussy, entirely unheard from your wrenching moans.
“So fucking good.” He gargled into your cunt, groaning into your pussy, and making out with your entrance. Heaven was a place on Earth, and it was you.
“I-I can’t, Eddie! Too much!” Though, your actions had conflicted with your words, hands buried into his hair, shoving his face to be submerged between your thighs, as your hips gyrated against the dimensions of his pretty face. On the precipice of letting go, your back flew off the surface of your bed, shaky legs lovingly crushing his head, with a moan beyond hotter than the numerous porno films of corny lines and exaggerated screams Eddie consumed just to perfect his skills. “I’m c-cumming- aahh!”
Eddie slurped your remaining juices, tonguing your pussy in search for anymore of your delicious cum that he would relish in. Patting your throbbing clit with a cherishing kiss goodbye, Eddie climbed your limp body, with a mouth and chin laminated with your wetness. One he smashed into your mouth with a smearing kiss against your lips, giving you a taste of the tarte sweetness of your pussy.
“You’re such a good boyfriend.” You breathily giggled against his mouth, leaving him chuckling at your inebriated-like state. “Best one I’ve had.”
“I’m the only one you’ve ever had.” He laughed, as he guided you to rest on the thumping beat of his full heart.
“So?” You smiled. “Donna’s always complaining about Tucker, and you’re nothing like him. I could never complain about you.” You were making him melt into a puddle of mush, as your words erupted in his tummy. He smiled down, kissing your hairline, before nudging you to grab a hold of your lips to his. “Mm, you smell good.” You hummed with delight.
Eddie guffawed. “Princess, that’s your pussy on my face.” He bumped your scrunching nose with a tender finger. “I probably smell like sex, sweat, and cigarettes, sweetheart.”
“But it’s you. I like you, Eddie.” Your round eyes peered up at him, and he held your contact.
“Yeah?” He whispered. Insecurity was swirling within him. Surely you were just babbling from the orgasm gifted upon you from him. Eddie Munson was Eddie Munson. You were fucking you. His vulgar behavior and profligate mind was undeserving of a girlfriend like-
“I’ve liked you for a while.” You smiled with closed eyes. Relishing. The bombshell of the revelation had his bursting with cinching brows of astonishment. “Remember, two years ago, we had art class together?” Remember? It was the day Eddie Munson first laid his eyes on you, of course, he remembers! Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t s- “I saw you, and you were just so cute doodling in your sketchbook. These scary monsters, and stuff. But they were good. I always wanted to compliment you on it, but I never got the courage. Just stuck to having a crush on you.” You delicately giggled.
Eddie Munson could have been fucking you for the past two years?!
You were quick to hum into a light slumber. Eddie was stupefied at the actual idiocy he was currently metaphorically forehead-slapping himself for. That was until your sudden jolt had him jumping with concern.
“Oh, my god! Eddie, we completely forgot to go over the promotion of democracy and isolationism coming into the late 1800s!” You heaved.
He cooed. “Oh, sweetheart…”
𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | @sierrahhh
#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#perv!eddie#perv!eddie munson
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Can we have a sweet and soft Christmas eve with Joey? Just the two of us? pretty please
this was requested at the perfect time, so thank you, and merry christmas my sluts!
Wordcount: 1.7K
---
Still Love Me?
"I'm sorry, I'm not crying because I'm upset, d-don't worry, I just..."
You don't get like this very often. Usually, trying to be extra affectionate makes you scrunch your nose up, makes you squirm and laugh and cringe. Makes you push him away, not taking the extra hugs and kisses seriously at all.
Joe doesn't mind.
"What's wrong?"
It's actually nice to not always feel the need to give you more. To not be afraid that maybe you'd be upset after not immediately coming over to hug and kiss you when he'd walk in at the end of the day.
But something's different tonight.
It's likely the holiday stress that's getting to you. Nothing a pair of extra affectionate warm embracing arms won't fix.
"I thought we had more cheese, but all we've got left is this..."
You suppress a sob.
Unsuccessfully.
Joe knows the tears are only there because all of everything has come together for the perfect storm, and you're just about ready to fall apart.
It's sort of cute that it's a lack of cheese that does it, and Joe's secretly glad it's not something that he'd done or said that got you. That it's not his fault, and that he doesn't have to apologise over something unimportant.
It's fine, though, the crying.
Joe had been ready for it.
He's got steady hands and is prepared to catch whatever needs catching. Knows how to put you back together just fine.
"Why did I do this? I've got to stop sneaking things, I– look, there's no... this is all we've got..."
You've got family coming over tomorrow, and it's the first year that your place is the spot for the big get together. It's nerve-racking in new ways you didn't know existed before because you're bringing both sets of parents in, and all you want to do is make the family proud.
Be the perfect daughter.
Have the stepmothers and stepdads get along as well as all of the divorced people. All of the siblings. Step-siblings.
Fuck, there's too many people coming over.
Could you still cancel, do you think?
You just... you just want Christmas be wholesome, and festive, and cosy, full of laughter and love and just... have it be perfect.
It's almost become a bit of a passion project, and it's quite literally driven you mad.
Well. Driven you to tears, at least.
Joe looks over and sees you hold a little block of brie cheese. It's not much, and it's got a bite taken out of it.
"Wait, did you–" Joe's already smiling, because what the fuck is he looking at right now? His girlfriend's got tears in her eyes and is stood in front of the opened fridge door, holding a bit of French cheese that has teeth marks in.
Surely, you are able to imagine what this looks like from his point of view.
It's at least a little funny.
But another sob wracks from your chest and all Joe can do is step closer and wrap arms around your shaking frame.
He's allowed to laugh as he does so.
"I didn't know- I thought we had more, b-but this was all we have, and I snuck a bite last night, because I– I was peckish and just wanted a little something, and–"
"Hey," Joe leans back and gets your face in both his hands. He's still smiling. Can't not smile, because this is ridiculous, but you also look very cute. Red nose. Fat tears stuck in your eyelashes. The colour of your eyes about ten times brighter because of the unshed ones.
"We'll serve 'em dry crackers, and they'll fucking take what they're given, all right?"
You pout and hold up the evidence of your late-night-snack-run in your own kitchen from the night before. It's right in between your faces and gives Joe a chance to really see the cause of the outburst.
"Still love me?"
Joe looks at the brie a second and then lurches forward with a growl, sinking teeth into the soft cheese for a bite of his own.
"Still love you." he replies, mouth full of cheese.
You can't help the choking laugh, head cocking to the side as a defeated soft chuckle leaves you. It only makes Joe want to grab hold of you tighter.
"Hmm," Joe hums, now chewing, and he frowns. "This is good. We should–" he can't finish the sentence without laughing, knowing it's likely the wrong thing to say, but he's already started the sentence. You get a good eyeful of the cheese in his mouth, in between his teeth. "We should get more of this."
Well, you can't.
Hence the crying.
You pout once more and then groan. It's so stupid, you're well aware. You just need a bit of sleep. Your family won't hate you because there's no cheese.
And if anything, you could throw it into the group chat and are sure that at least three people have some brie to bring along tomorrow.
You really are just very tired.
"Tell you what," Joe says, now taking the little piece of cheese from your fingers, one arm still around you. "We'll finish this, have some hot chocolate and just... relax. Watch a Christmas film. Tomorrow is tomorrow and tonight is tonight, you've done enough prepping and it'll all be fine–"
"Perfect." you correct.
It's important that everything will be perfect.
"It'll all be perfect." Joe coos, voice smooth like butter.
You sniff and look at him a moment. He's still chewing. Smiling. Joe's being all playful and it's reminding you of why you love him so much. Glancing into the living room, you know Joe's right. Everything's ready. Everything's done.
It's Christmas Eve.
"Calm before the storm." you sigh, patting Joe where you're holding onto him. Then lower down, quick touch to the bum. Joe easily lets you.
"Calm before the storm." he confirms before you let go of each other. You move to collect yourself, wiping fingers below your eyes, and Joe opens a cupboard to get to mugs out and says, "And I'll go get extra cheese tomorrow, it'll be fine."
You're about to protest. Tell him that the shop you usually go to won't be open. It'll be Christmas. And everyone's stocked up already. Shelves are empty all over. But Joe sees it across your face before you can say anything and adds, "I'll find some, don't worry about it."
And so you don't.
You accept a kiss to your temple, a deep inhale of your hair and you tilt your head for a kiss on the lips. A quiet thank you.
After a squeeze of your arm, Joe gets started on the hot chocolate and you decide to see if there's anything good on TV or if it'll be Netflix for the night.
Before you've been able to make a choice, you hear mugs being filled and you scurry back into the kitchen. You get to the fridge before Joe does, which was the plan. You find the can of squirty cream amongst all of the food and drink - your fridge has never been this full. It's almost triggeringly full; so much food, yet so little cheese.
It takes you too long, and Joe joins to look over your shoulder, to see if he can spot it before you do.
He doesn't.
You find it and giggle excitedly, a little delirious (you've gone mad, remember?) as you shake it with a wild arm. Your demeanor is the opposite of what it was minute earlier.
No tears. Just manic laughter.
Makes Joe laugh just the same. His girlfriend's gone insane and, if he's honest, he's kind of into it.
You spray some cream into both mugs that Joe's filled with hot chocolate, and before you place it back into the fridge, you shake the can again.
"You just said you should stop sneaking things," Joe isn't exactly trying to stop you, but he knows what you're about to do. Feels like it's worth saying something, to maybe prevent a further break down.
It's of no use, though.
His comment makes you glance him pointed a look. It's ridiculous of him to assume you'd been serious. Of course you're not going to stop sneaking things. He doesn't see the deadpan stare you give him because he's busy placing mini marshmallows onto your drinks, but despite the advice, you go for it anyway.
You tip your head back and spray some of the cream directly into your mouth.
"My God," Joe says when you let it go for a little too long, and when he looks, he barks a laugh.
You've overdone it.
It's too much.
Well, is it ever too much? Not really. But it doesn't fit into your mouth and thus there's a problem. This is going to be messy.
With your head still tilted back, you release a small sound of panic at the inability to close your mouth and raise a cupped hand, ready to catch whatever is going to spill.
But Joe knows just the perfect fix, and he's quick.
Before you know what's happening, your boyfriend's got his hand on the back of your neck, digging in strong fingers and guiding your head forward.
Just before whatever your lips can't curl around is about to slide down your chin, Joe's mouthing at it and manages to get it all, tongue licking and lips closing around your opened ones.
What follows is a weird, full-cheeked sticky, creamy, sugary kiss that has you giggling into each others mouths.
It's still messy, but you'd easily do this again. Would it be too obvious if you just went for an insane mouthful once more?
Joe pulls back, sees he's missed a bit and doesn't hesitate to lick at the corner of your mouth, making you shriek with your mouth closed, pushing him away.
"You're gross," you say fondly after swallowing.
He's also adorably sweet, but he doesn't need telling.
Joe lets his head bobble back a little as he silently laughs, wiping at his own mouth with the back of his hand, glad to have been of service.
"Yea? Still love me?"
Tomorrow's going to be fine.
There's no cheese but for the little chunk you're about to share. It'll likely be all gone if you both have a single cracker with some on.
And there probably also won't be any squirty cream left, what with your plan to bring the can over to the sofa for top-ups after you've eaten all of it off. Or, you know, after you've sprayed more of it into your mouth just so Joe can eat it out of there again.
You families can have hot chocolate without any, and Joe's right. They'll fucking take what they'll be given and be grateful.
Or, Joe can find some tomorrow.
Somewhere.
Whatever.
You're no longer fussed.
It's Christmas. Christmas Eve.
"Still love you." you beam, because you do.
You really, really do.
---
The Taglisted
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twenty five.
warning; ⛵ 1.2k words.
masterlist.
“i’m so happy you guys could make it!” sooji hugs you tightly as she says so, ecstatic the moment you stepped through the entrance, “you look so beautiful, i definitely have some competition tonight at my own event.”
competition. how ironic. you weren’t her competition.
“you’re just being nice sooji but thank you.”
your words has her in giggles, her hand rubbing your arm sweetly as if she’s known you all her life, “i have to greet some guests. i’ll find you guys in a bit okay?”
“what a joke,” beomgyu leans down to comment as you both watch sooji walk away, the man shrugging at the sight, “i don’t think she’s even your competition love, you’re both on completely different tiers.”
“oh my god beomgyu you can’t say that!”
“choi beomgyu speaks the truth only, unfortunately.”
you can’t help but laugh at his usual non sense, your hand going up to playfully cover his mouth. it’s something you’ve been doing quite a bit of as of lately with how much the man loved to joke so inappropriately all the time, especially in settings like this.
as you’re busy joking around, you suddenly get that feeling. when someone’s staring at you from afar and true to your intuitions, someone really is.
you spot sunghoon in the corners of your eyes, making his way towards you and like every other time, your knees literally buckle. his eyes are on you, a soft grin plastered across his face. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t immediately elicit something from you, your poor stomach doing that cliched backflip just from the sight of the man. but there’s an additional feeling to that, a hint of uneasiness, something you’ve been feeling a lot lately when it came to sunghoon.
and it’s definitely not a good thing.
“wow. breath taking aren’t you, step sis?” sunghoon’s shameless gaze up and down your dress was a little too daring if you could say so yourself but it’s the way he leans in to hug you that has you holding your breath. his arm is so tightly around the smalls of your waist, pulling you right into him, embracing you as if no one is around.
you almost melt, having his cologne so rudely intrude all your senses at once. one you’ve always loved.
“you need to be gentle, brother in law,” you hear beomgyu say as his hand clasps your shoulder, pulling you slightly back and away from your step brother, “or you’ll suffocate my poor fiancé.”
beomgyu’s seemingly innocent words seems to evoke something from sunghoon, evident from his raised brows and taunting smirk.
“i like to believe that i’m always gentle when it comes to her,” your step brother scoffs as he says so, the innuendo so obvious, you’re sure anyone would’ve picked it up. “wouldn’t you say so-”
“ah actually i just remembered! i need to talk to sunghoon about something regarding my mum,” you grab onto sunghoon’s arm, interrupting the man mid sentence, “we’ll be right back.”
you manage to act as normal as possible while practically dragging your step brother through the crowd, only letting go once you’re both around the corner and out of everyone’s view.
“are you out of your mind? people are going to get suspicious if you keep saying things like that.”
he looks down at you as though you’ve said something so outrageous, his eyes glaring holes into your face. the man is evidently displeased, lips pursed in a straight line and brows dawning over his eyes, an expression you used to see so often when you first met him.
“i am out of my mind,” he laughs mockingly, “because while i’m trying to stop your marriage with choi, you go cuddling up with him instead.”
“your date is literally right around this corner sunghoon, you have no right to get mad at me for acting my role!”
you were barely one to raise your voice, ever, but this situation felt so unfair that you just had to. like the man was blaming the entirety of it all on you while knowing that you had no say.
“acting your role? if you’re like that in public, how are you at home? do you fuck him and call it acting-”
slap.
your mind didn’t process what had happened until it was too late, your hand now numb from colliding with sunghoon’s cheek a moment earlier.
you’ve dealt with a nasty sunghoon since day one but this was getting too much for you to handle. this whole back and forth thing was getting tiring, something people were bound to catch onto. especially beomgyu, sooji and worse, mr park.
“how can you say that...” your voice trembles with every word, tears now forming in your eyes, all your built up frustration finally spilling over, “i- i can’t believe you... sunghoon. i’m done.”
if you were unsure where your relationship stood with this man before you came here tonight, well you were certain about it now.
there was never any hope and there never will be.
“is... is everything okay guys?”
sooji’s sudden soft voice breaks the intense stare down between you and your step brother, both of you having been too immersed in the situation to even notice her standing barely a metre away... with your fiancé right behind her.
you’re internally freaking out over the possibility of them having heard your conversation but the way beomgyu walks over to you with such soften eyes tells you otherwise.
“tell me what’s wrong,” he carefully wipes your tears away as he asks, his tone full of concern, just like the expression on his face. it’s a look you’ve never seen from him before, from someone so obnoxiously flirty, so usually unserious.
the air around you gets ten times thicker when he suddenly glances to sunghoon, as if immediately sensing that your tears had something to do with the man. you don’t miss the way he turns his entire body that way, the two of them ready for confrontation but confrontation was definitely not what you needed more of tonight.
“just some stuff at home but... everything’s fine. can we go grab a drink please?” you were quick to grab onto your fiancé’s arm to get his attention back on you but unfortunately you don’t only get his, you gain your step brother’s as well. sunghoon simply scoffs at the sight like it didn’t affect him but you know it did.
“of course. anything you want,” a smile appears on beomgyu’s face again as he looks down at how you’re holding him, relief with a hint of amazement in his eyes. patting your hand with his, the man pulls you along, taking you away from a situation that shouldn’t have been one to begin with.
the situation being park sunghoon.
end.
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The animators were Kurahi shippers and you can’t change my mind: exhibit A
Enthusiastic reading-too-much-Kurahi-but-not-really into the animation~
From episodes 68 & 69, “Setting the Trap” and “The Power of Taboo”
So anyone creative that writes or draws or what have you can tell you that everything actually is intentional, and by that I mean, every word you pick to write and every design or illustration you make is a choice. We make choices, we decide, and then those things are up for interpretation.
All of that is to say: I think these animators were kurahi shippers or something man, there's an interesting visual in these two episodes that happens repeatedly. pls don’t judge me for my intense meta bullshit that’s about occur lol
When Kaito is about to take Hiei’s soul, he looks down at him, and we see a violet colored flash in his glasses.
After he takes his soul, it’s encased in that same shade of purple. We know from earlier episodes and later on when their souls are returned that souls don’t have a color, they’re just white/translucent, so that means Kaito color-coded the souls by his own volition. Purple for Hiei, blue for Botan, and yellow for Kuwabara.
What’s interesting is…this purple color/flashes of purple light don’t go away. They’re present during Kurama’s battle of wits with Kaito and their negotiation of the terms.
Now someone might say, “well Hiei’s soul is positioned on the rightmost side and the purple visually stands out better, it makes sense it would show, it doesn’t mean anything.” And perhaps they’re right, but I don’t think so.
Again, these things are intentional choices, regardless of whether or not what they mean is agreed upon. They chose to make Hiei’s that color, they chose to position it to the side, and they chose to use it for this visual effect.
Most important to note: this visual choice is only done for Hiei’s color, purple. There’s no ambient light in the room and it’s the exact same color, ergo very intentionally done. They don’t rotate between colors, they never show flashes of blue or yellow or all three—it’s only purple.
⬆️ here for example. Arguably we should be able to see the blue and yellow reflected in his glasses, too. But we don’t. Just that fuchsia color. Just Hiei’s soul.
So what does it mean (to me)?
I think it means that Hiei is most important to him, and somehow Kaito has clocked that. Hiei’s soul is the one reflected in Kaito’s glasses while they negotiate the rules of their game.
And it’s only reflected/shown in his eyes when he’s looking at kurama (other than Hiei prior to the soul stealing!), not anywhere in the room, which is what makes me think that Kaito knows how significant the relationship between Kurama and Hiei is. He (literally in a visual sense) can see it. These flashes happen the most/almost exclusively during this scene—as if he’s dangling Hiei’s soul specifically to bait Kurama into playing his game.
It’s symbolic of how meaningful the relationship is to him, because it’s shown like it’s the bargaining chip to make the game happen. When he taunts Kurama that he still hasn’t made his choice, the reflection is there again. The significance is only emphasized by the fact that it doesn’t happen with anyone else’s soul/color.
Additionally, I like that Kaito’s hand is hovering over Hiei’s soul when Kurama threatens to erase him from reality. I don’t think this is strong evidence or anything, but it compliments my theory here quite nicely lol.
Bonus (aka this doesn’t really have evidentiary support but hey it rolls with this pretty well): look at how mad Kurama is after Hiei’s soul is taken. Angry husband.
TLDR: they knew wtf they were doing with this man YOU CANT MAKE ME BELIEVE OTHERWISE
#yu yu hakusho#yyh#kurahi#yyh meta#yyh headcanons#musings.txt#Hiei#kurahiei#Kurama x Hiei#fan theory#yuu kaito#i miss literature class#can you tell
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Lmao hi i saw you wanted hsr requests-
(man, its so weird to request off anon im sorry 💀)
I still dunno which characters to choose so its up to you but how about yandere character and an Aeon of Love whos quick to fall in love and adore, but just as quick to throw away things that no longer interest them?
YOU CARVED OPEN MY HEART, CAN’T JUST LEAVE ME TO BLEED !
YANDERE AEONS / VARIOUS! HSR x READER
note: this fic is more of proof of concept rather than an actual fic, if you want a more specific scenario feel free to request one through my asks!
warnings: yandere themes, canon divergence.
status: unedited
“
I met with the Snowbird once.
That was all it took for me to be captured within their spell.
To wish for the ability to fly with their holy being once spring came.
An impossible dream that was.
Yet still its honeyed promises of seeing the snowbird once again lured me into this path.
This path of love and despair.
“
— Pope of the Philian Church.
DATA BANK
DATA LOG 01 - I
[Y/N]. The God of Philandering. Snowbird. The Great Majesty of Romance. Their Wintry Excellency. Avem In Perpetua Fuga.
Aeon of Philia.
Some might call them the Aeon of Love but does love really come with a massive fear of commitment and the ease of which they left their significant others? Many scholars that studied the Aeon think not.
Their fickle, almost apathetic nature however did little to dissuade people and other gods alike from falling in love.
You see, [Y/N] was an expert, quite literally the best, when it comes to persuasion and seduction. In contrast to IX whose presence creates madness, theirs made the normal human being almost fall to their knees in religious fervor. Only those blessed by other Aeons could ever hope to escape or endure such an overwhelming aura.
The other gods themselves weren’t completely immune to their charms. One cannot help but be curious as to how a singular being was able to attain the infatuation of such powerful existences . . .
. . . and who exactly that singular being is.
In any case, as one would expect from an Aeon of Romance, the [Y/N] faith is never short of passionate poetry.
Here’s one I found in the General of Xianzhou’s office of all places. Perhaps he might be a follower of theirs? It is quite laughable to think of the great Jing Yuan dabbling in literature when avoiding duties.
“Your love scorched my mind.
Tortured my soul.
Hollowed my body.
But in this pain,
Thoughts of your presence and light,
Dull the blade you sheathed within me.
I await your return,
and your claim over the heart you’ve carved out of me.”
DATA LOG 2 - ADORETH
Perhaps those scholars were being a bit too harsh. A god of love must have extremely high standards for their partner. Perhaps those partners were simply foolish, delusional to believe they’d be enough for them.
It is a popular theory that all Aeons used to live peacefully amongst one another until the Great Majesty of Romance threw the world into chaos. The youth nowadays have written several essays alluding to their idea that it was what jumpstarted paths such as the Destruction and Elation. No evidence of such happenings have come out so far.
In my opinion? If anything the Aeon of Elation, Aha would be the bringer of chaos not the other way around. I suspect that the bias and warnings taught to the masses against worshipping or even studying [Y/N], has led to this kind of popular belief.
DATA LOG ? ¿ ? - THEE
Why ?
Why is it that they won’t come back ?
I have devoted my entire life to clearing their name. I have spent countless nights agonising on the proper words to use when describing their Wintry Excellency.
Why then would they not praise me ? Why then would they not grace me with their presence once more ? Was it all a mirage ? A tantalising dream made to inflict pain on my soul?
. . . Perhaps it is because I have chosen the wrong path.
. . .
Yes.
Yes it’s all my fault.
I should have devoted my entire life to worship not just studies.
How moronic of me !
A god of love would never be so cruel. No.
They are simply waiting. Waiting for the day, I come to them.
That was where everyone else was wrong. And I . . . will be right.
©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023
#honkai star rail#yandere honkai star rail#aeons#aeons x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#yandere honkai star rail x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere aeons x reader#yandere hsr x reader#yandere x you#yandere jingyuan#yandere jingyuan x reader#jingyuan#jing yuan
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seventeen members teaching you how to drive
author’s note: very self indulgent since i am working on getting my drivers licence rn, for the members that cannot drive let’s pretend they can in this;) please note that this is purely my opinion and is not accurate nor was made to criticise the members in any way, thank you<3
synopsis: what the title says.
word count: 1.3k | genre: fluff, humour/crack | pairing: seventeen x gn! reader | warnings: none
cheol would be one of the least calm ones, we know that he is a good driver and he knows it too, therefore he would love to comment on every single move you make, getting frustrated with you within like 10 minutes. he would yell and scream at you for “not understanding this simple thing” (driving is complicated af nobody can tell me otherwise) while literally wanting to snatch the wheel from you because as he puts it you are a terrible driver being a danger to society lmao. overall 5/10, taking away points because he would definitely make you cry at some point
jeonghan is one of the best ones; his skills are solid, he is kinda chill and doesn’t worry too much. however, this would not be the most beneficial since he is known to be a menace and would be casually clowning you at every move, making you question the knowledge you already have about driving and the road. when you panic and don’t know what to do he would switch back to teacher mode, being very quick to help you, getting you back on track in the journey. overall 9/10, only taking a point away from him because of his tricks my man needs to chill and let you be confident
now although shua may be one of the quieter ones who won’t yell or freak out, he would give up on you quite easily tbh. he is very good at keeping his cool so he would try to be gentle when guiding you on the roads, but if you had struggles with driving frequently during the journey there would be soon a moment when he would sigh and lean back in the seat, contemplating on just getting you a more professional person to help. overall 8/10, he is a bit lazy but can be convinced to stay
jun is at a bit of a loss when explaining, just like some other members he would not always know how to express what you did wrong, since it comes naturally to him at this point, so the process of both of you trying to figure out what exactly felt off with a move you did might become a common thing with him. he is very excited for you though, and would give you all his support! overall 5/10, could be better but he is trying his best so A for effort
if you want to learn how to drive safely i would not recommend getting hoshi to teach you; he is a very fun person to go on karaoke rides with, however he is not always aware of certain limits (speed limits *cough cough*) or the surroundings when being caught up in the moment. he tends to be a bit careless when he is having fun which with you would be evident since he loves your company, however he has a job to do which is teaching you, so please be careful with him since he doesn’t always see the whole picture. overall 5/10, you would definitely fail the exam for the first time
wonwoo is another chill one, his flaw would be that he was bad at explaining; whenever you would ask a question about how to proceed he would tell you, but wouldn’t be able to explain why, which is a very important thing as you should understand why you do what you do (he knows this aswell). he would recommend learning the rules again saying “it all makes sense if you know the rules well enough.” (not always, but gotta admit he has a point) overall 7/10, would be one of the best ones attitude wise
woozi is a very straightforward person, he tells you what to do and expects you to do it. or not. he is quiet and doesn’t get mad easily when you make mistakes, it is part of learning things for the first time afterall. he would gently guide you through the journey only getting a bit taken aback when you do something that even you know is a big mistake. he is not a man of many words in the car which would be the downfall of the learning process, however he is very attentive and observant so after exiting the car he would help you understand the cause of the mishaps during the drive. overall 6/10, a bit quiet
dk is very enthusiastic about teaching you how to drive and would be grateful that you chose to trust him. he would spend endless hours in the car by your side to absolutely get everything done perfectly so you could pass the exam, although he might not be harsh enough at times to tell you when you actually mess up badly, so be careful and don’t take every praise he murmurs to you for granted, as he would not want to say bad things about your skills (even though they were needed to be said, he is a big softie sorry not sorry). overall 7/10, he might be a bit too nice
minghao is pretty much teacher material, strict but not so much that you would get discouraged, balancing out the way he would guide you through every important step sternly, but nicely, hinting soft comforting words along the way to keep your motivation alive and spirits up. if he would be in charge you can bet you would pass the practical exam on the first try, him having a cocky smirk on his face when he saw that all the hard work you two put into it paid off. overall 10/10, i would sit next to him any time he is such a good driver
mingyu is hands down the best person to learn from. he is an experienced one; he practically taught the others how to drive aswell, so you are just another routine learner in his eyes (obviously not, he is the softest with you). his instructions are quite easy to understand and follow, and he is good at giving you helpful tips to make your work easier later on and on the exam. he is witty and entertaining so you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable with the fact that he is teaching, making driving seem so fun you could never be pried off the seat of the car. overall 10/10, friendly and efficient
seungkwan is a shy one; hesitant about how to start and how to help you the best. later on during the drive he could completely switch and could become easy to anger (yall know my man has anger issues) therefore him sitting next to you would be a rather nerve wrecking experience with his judgy expressions escaping against his will. for good measure i gotta say he would try to save the scolding for after each round so you wouldn’t get stressed out while at the wheel, he knows panicking won’t help. overall 6.5/10, he is trying to stay calm we gotta appreciate that (cheol if he was patient)
vernon is the most chill out of them all, this is why he wouldn’t be of much help if i’m honest. he would just nod and sit next to you silently, looking out the window and sometimes opening his mouth to say that you are doing well, poor boy would not have a single clue about how to correct any of your mistakes, saying that “it has been a long time since he learned to drive” aswell. overall 5/10, sorry he is just not teacher coded
dino is more gentle and patient than he looks in my opinion, and he is a relatively good driver who knows a lot about road rules and stuff, so him being on the passenger seat would give you a flashback about the days when you would study the names of the road signs and how the different rules should work in practice; he is the mediator between theory and practice, putting them together nicely with you in teamwork. overall 8/10 pretty solid methods and skills
#wonijinjin#caratsland#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#svt imagines#seventeen#seventeen fluff#svt scenarios#seventeen seungcheol#seventeen mingyu#svt scoups#svt hoshi#svt joshua#svt jeonghan#svt dk#svt wonwoo#svt dino#svt vernon#svt woozi#svt seungkwan#svt junhui#svt minghao#seventeen wonwoo#seventeen soonyoung#seventeen junhui#seventeen jihoon#seventeen hansol#seventeen joshua#seventeen seungkwan#seventeen dokyeom
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I still don’t understand AFO. Why is he like this. This series repeatedly goes out of it’s way to humanize the villains but AFO is still just evil because he wants to be the demon lord and I don’t get it.
That would be the point, I feel-- AFO doesn't want to be understood or seen as "human." He wants to completely lose himself in character, wants other people to mindlessly play along with the story he's written for himself like good little extras, and wants everyone around him to acknowledge what a ~perfectly inhuman demon lord~ he is-- and he's bent the entire narrative of MHA around himself like a shield in order to accomplish that. Like, the idea of people breaking the same black and white narrative that he's been using to protect himself (and trap others) quite literally drives him insane:
"That murderer--" "You killer--" oooooo you're so mad that human nature is basically good, that people are endlessly capable of growth and healing, and that actual human beings can't simply be shoved into teeny black and white fictional boxes ooooo
all the more evidence that he's gonna completely lose his shit when Tomura ultimately refuses to kill Izuku lmao
I wanna point out his speech bubbles in the second image, bc Hori frequently uses speech bubbles to emphasize a character's mental state-- Like.... Bro is literally coming apart at the seams with rage that Stain is trying to be anything more than a starter villain. 😭The english translation also kind of sort of makes it seem like AFO is simply referring to Stain by his moniker (Hero Killer), but the term he uses in the original text feels a little more... loaded, imho?? The kanji used for Stain's "Hero Killer" Moniker is "Goroshi" ("殺ごろし"), but here, AFO instead refers to him as a "Murderer" (殺人犯/satsujin-han). Calling Stain an out-and-out murderer instead of calling him by a villain moniker feels a lot more specific, a lot more pointed, and it also tells us a lot more about AFO’s fucked up sense of values.
Anyway, I've said this before, but AFO is a character who reads heavily as an escapist fantasy gone horrifically wrong. "Why is a world where villains are allowed to climb back up from rock bottom and heal so intolerable to AFO?" "why does the idea of people breaking free from their roles make AFO so angry?" "why is AFO literally trying to BECOME a comic book character?" are better questions to ask than "why is bro just evil for the sake of it," I feel. Like obviously, a world where the label of "villain" gets thoroughly and utterly dismantled is one where AFO loses his power over others.... but it's also a world that rips that protective layer of "fiction" away from him, exposes his own humanity, and destroys that delusion of becoming the "perfect villain king" that he's wrapped himself up in.
tfw you LARP so hard that it ends up getting your brother killed and now breaking character means you gotta Process All Of That
.................................................... Unless...? :)
What I find especially interesting about AFO is that MHA's narrative actually cooperates with shielding him from the readers, to a degree-- scenes that depict rare moments of genuine emotion are overlaid with contrary, cartoonishly evil narration that's meant to distract the reader from what's actually being depicted. The bulk of the series depicts his face being hidden in shadows even though it *literally* has no reason to be, and we don't get an unobscured look until the other characters finally start rallying together to reject his story. He is literally introduced to the series through a TV screen, which MHA has been using as a shorthand for its depiction of fantasy since day one:
In my opinion, I feel the final act of "rejection" that AFO fears isn't from his brother, or his followers, or "his other self"-- what he fears is the story itself rejecting him and finally exposing him for what he is: an utterly mundane human. Like, a total freak of a guy to be sure, but still totally human. The narrative revoking its various "protections" and working against AFO to humanize him acts as the final insult to everything he claims to believe in while doubling as the last bit of confirmation that he was never gonna become a "perfect demon lord." MHA being what it is, this is something inevitable.
Where other characters in this series draw strength from their origin-- the moment that defines them as a human and individual-- AFO likely fears and rejects his own origin for this same reason.
Anyway. I would describe AFO as a wannabe-author who refuses to make public appearances or divulge details about his personal life, but ultimately reveals a little too much about himself through the "stories" and "characters" he tries to write-- so ppl still know he's a freak with issues by virtue of how fatherless his content is. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Putting together all the pieces of himself that AFO accidentally lets slip is part of what makes MHA so fun (to me, at least!).
#thank you for the ask!#all for one#mha spoilers#mha.txt#my hero academia#this mostly turned into me rambling abt what i personally like about AFO. He Is For The Pathetic Men Enthusiasts.#like i gotta stress that I still want him to get dragged out into the wilderness and torn apart by ravenous wolves though lol
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when someone raises a concern w me about the "irreversibility of allowing children and teens to transition" (which is a lot, having these discussions w people is literally my day job) i think about the fact that when i was 13/14 my mum bought me an epilator for christmas. my cousin got one too.
now i had shaved my legs maybe once or twice at this point, because my (frankly barely visible) leg fluff was apparently "bad" and did not enjoy the process or result. my mum, to her credit is p progressive and never pressured me to shave (except for my pits. she's odd about pits. convinced having armpit hair is bad for the skin or something idk) but there was this ASSUMPTION that bc i "was a girl" i would now inevitably need to remove the hair from my legs for the rest of my life. we were both given epilators SPECIFICALLY bc our mums believed that if we started epilating early, the follicles would get damaged and the hair would stop growing.
we were too young to get our belly buttons pierced (something that if we changed our minds could be removed and leave only a tiny mark as evidence), too young to start even puberty blockers among the people i often talk to, but plenty old enough to start the attempting to permanently destroy all the follicles on a good third of our bodies to the extent we were gifted these devices despite showing no real desire to do so!!
now quite apart from being trans, i love my leg fuzz. love all of it actual. had to shave my pubic hair for surgery once and threw a FIT i was so mad (turns out it wasn't actually 'necessary' at ALL) i would have been gutted to have missed out on that because I'd used the fucking epilator.
these arguments are always framed as 'what if they change their minds' or 'blah blah some risk' or 'they're too young to know what they want' but it's never actually about that.
the issue isn't that they MIGHT 'change their minds about being trans and wanting to transition', it's that those people are HOPING they will. its not a fear of those young people regretting their decision, it's a fear of running out of time to talk them out of being trans.
#bing bong#im not even going to bother going into the irreversibility of puberty itselc bc obvs#parents look at their trans kids and say#'not letting you transition could kill you but i would prefer a cis kid and thats a risk im willing to take'#and then get pissy when said kids dont baby them through pulling their heads out of their asses
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oh my days did u hear about wilbur soot literally physically abusing shelby
YESYESYES I DID!!!
For the girlies that don't know: I was a minecraft girlie in 2021.
And Wilbur Soot was a big part of that MC phase. He was undeniably hot, but he was also quite open ab mental health stuffs + created quite a safe space for minorities whether that be the gay community, mental health talking space... That's all from the top of my head. In short - he's hot and an empath and ppl liked that ab him
He also kinda showed his "quirky loco character" in music vids or just in streams.
Kinda ironic he's now fulfilling the role that character he mockingly made, tho.
What did he do? Well, he was in a relationship w Shelby Shubble and his way of showing "affection" would be to bite her. Kinda understand biting as a way of showing love as long as it's not life threatening, painful, or in aggression... I mean, ChrisMD does that shit all the time to ArthurTV n it seems more endearing than to really do any bads.
Thing is, Wilbur would end up hurting Shelby. Aaaand so Wil said 'hey let's make a safeword for u 2 say when it hurts so that ik and can stop so i don't harm u'.... but when Shelby used that safeword, broski wuld either grind down or go a lil bit harder b4 letting go.
And Shelby's described it as she would oftentimes scream/yell bc it was so hard, and he'd 'smile' afterwards which is mad psycho (term used loosely) imo. Because also, he'd do ts in public??? Yk, with his friendship group around him n Shelby, the lovely jovely couple? Straight out weird negl.
So, there's context.
Lots of varying opinions online which i would soooo love to get into...
BUT DISCLAIMER BEFORE I DO: Realistically, this is abuse, and thus it is a crime. I've talked about this on my page before - cancel culture can be unecessary in minor incidences, and cancel culture can be not-enough in instances whereby people have simply done illegal things.
This is one of those illegal things. So, whilst I do chat about this light-heartedly or for entertainment, gossip-y purposes - do realise that this is a real life problem that has has major issues in many peoples' lives.
Now, continuing with the juicy waffley discussions that ppl like hearing:
So firstly, some of the Twitter memes are fucking hilarious. I do love that under Wilbur's Twitter apology, loads of MCYTers have joined to clown his goofy ahh. And all those memes saying that Bill smelled such a shit apology he returned to twitter after years + the DSMP are like Avengers in Infinity War returning to all fight enemy No1 WILBUR...
But that being said, DREAM REPLYING TOO????
I spoke ab Dream being a groomer around Christmas time + heard loads of ppl out on vouching for Dream or calling him disgusting, dahdahdah... But the fact that sm ppl are turning around and praising Dream for calling out Wilbur's goofiness is acc MAAAD.
Why's everyone forgotten Dream is j as goofy? And an alleged groomer? And just plain? Not even plain something, brodie is just the plainest mf i've ever seen. Ever since he face revealed, his personality j evaporated on out of his body (anyone feel this asw?)
But no, ppl who are now agreeing w Dream to combat Wilbur as if Dream hasn't also committed what is debateably a crime (ik he 'cleared up the rumours' but it's v hard to fight of groomer allegations when you let them sit and marinate for approx 6 months) is fucking WILD shit to me.
Secondly, people are analysing loads of Wilbur's other prev actions too and saying these should've been red flags to Wilbur being an a-hole before we even heard Shubble's solid proof.
And some of these clips of evidence (e.g. Niki saying Wil bites her + threw her, Tommy getting his hand stomped, throwing apple at Techno) feel very valid.
But other bits I do wonder - are they just being over analysed? Yk, like with the clip of Wil shouting at Tommy for streaming + stealing his wallet, i was super sure that was staged as is (j had it confirmed now by the Twitter community note asw lol) and also, whilst Wil's shouting does feel extreme and hurtful from a viewer pov... Having a wallet stolen, place of work broken in to, litr knowing the place where you work to make all income could be taken away from u bc a friend thought it funny to break in n loudly + rowdily stream... i gotta say that some form of anger or upset is valid there. And this isn't to validate Wilbur's assholery, this is just to point out that whilst ppl are throwing clips into the fire and saying "this is more proof Wil was a bad person from the start" - do try see other interpretations of it and form your own line of reasoning - yk - "is this a valid point or is this someone using the drama to get some extra likes and attention to boost their account" (because believe me, ppl would - if ppl would use Techno's death to get more channel views and interactions - ppl would also most definitely use abuse as a means to engage more ppl).
Aaaaaand let's talk about the little Lovejoy band. Ngl i fucken loved their stuff, quite sad to see it go down the drain because 3/4 of them are public targets, now.
So ik we hate Wil for being an abuser.
And I've seen that ppl dislike Mark bc he supported Maccies (what did he do fr tho bc i have no clue - did he j eat a McDonalds or what?)
And we hate Ash Kabosu for saying it's bad to make fun of those deaths on the submarine...
Controversial opinion but I don't blame Ash allat much??? Now imma explain myself - but pls understand that i don't knoe 100% ab the situation, im v detached from the MCYT sphere of the online community.
But hear me out.
I'm a big believer in cherishing life, life is v important, life is a blessing.... Not from a rly religious pov, moreso in a spiritual way. Because if we only get one life, fuck, it's pretty damn precious. And whilst all those Oceangate memes were haha heehee funny watches, at the end of the day, people did die. And I do find that quite sad.
People say it's fine to laugh and make fun of those who were in there and died bc they were just billionaires who went down there for their own personal entertainment.
Just because they're billionaires doesn't make them any less human than us? Sure, they have a lot more money and are probably a lot more detached from working class issues which the majority of the population faces... But their drowning will have hurt and caused just as much pain to them as it would to us if we were in their situation. And my god, I can't even begin to think about the pain their families must have felt.
Those deaths were a fucking tragedy, realistically - and maybe i'm 'overreacting' here - but c'mon, empathy is literally encoded into our DNA as humans, surely I'm not the only one that can see the heartlessness in just laughing and memeing those deaths?
So Ash Kabosu haterism I don't fully understand, is the conclusion of that sub-rant.
And then I think this is the final little bit I'll discuss considering this is a loooong post:
James Marriott.
Jimbo Mazza, Jimbatron, James Marriott.
Lowkey my big flex, I've been a fan of him since 2020, and I got into his hater-commentary content initially. And ngl, when he transitioned to Minecraft? It was so fkn obvious he was trying to tailor to the MCYT audience to get their approval and entrance into the MCYT community, it made me absolutely cringe - and the blindness of everybody to that fact was insane to me.
Like, he was literally beegggging to be added to SMPs, he'd try and portray this "uncontrollable, quirky" character and would be so "unhinged" that everyone would love him... But ngl, that shit was literal brainrot, and he had you guys (me included tbf, bc i'd watch - just cringing whilst watching) ROTTING your brains with spamming the chat w allat bs that u do on Twitch
Nowadays, I like James tho. I feel like he feels ingrained enough within the community to branch out and not have to play up to the disturbing, disgusting cringefest - and so now he's funnier and having a better time streaming.
I mean, he looks absolutely great too - his tours have him confidence-boosted (rightfully so), because he's in great shape, like, he's genuinely lost noticable fat and put on muscle which has him looking trim as ever - he's grown his hair out into a flattering mullet - Shit, i believe looksmaxxing is the boy-equivalent of the makeup industry profiting off of womens' insecurity....
But the Jimbatron has absolutely looksmaxxed for the best.
That being said however, people saying "I OFFER JIMBO AS A REPLACEMENT FOR WILBUR!!" are fucking weirdos (respectfully but also kinda not)
Bro has just abused people and you're mourning the loss of a content creator and oh no - your favourite band - so you're trying to serve up replacements like a fucking chef that's ran out of a specific ingredient??????????
Yeah, James is less problematic and has 2x the personality Wilbur has- BUT WHY DOES IT TAKE WILBUR COMING OUT AS A FKN ABUSER FOR PPL TO START PROMOTING JAMES????
This is like that whole thing whereby ppl put other girls down to point out to success or beauty of other girls: it takes everyone noticing how bad Wilbur is, to point out the goodness of James.
James litr banned people who wouldn't stfu about Wilbur in his chat in early streams, bc he was sick of ppl following him for Wilbur and who just wanted to talk about Wilbur on James' platform.... I don't think James rly wants to share an identity, or have his platform built from being against Wilbur.
Not proof read this post fully. But take-aways from this:
-Yeah Dream is cooking Wilbur on Twitter but don't forget he's an alleged groomer + is deffo using this as a way to get back into the audience's "good books"
-RIP Lovejoy but some1 explain what Mark did fully + why ppl think Ash is so abominable for showing empathy to ppl dying
-Rmbr that this is acc a serious crime, don't downplay ts
-Stop fucking promoting James Marriott thru Wilbur's downfall, it rly discredits James' authenticity and original building of a community
-So proud to say that after a few months of getting into MCYT stuff i felt as though Wilbur was icky + just plainout didn't like him/got odd vibes
-And lol, acc so jarring how Wil reminds me of this guy in my yr - complete mummy's boy, underestimates and belittles women bc his mum handed everything to him on a plate n so he doesn't empathise w them but rather expects the world from them whilst simultaneously treating them like shit, 'radical', extremely 'woke' about modern situations but is so stubborn and refuses to see two sides of a picture.... Tbh I might j hate the guy in my yr and be projecting that onto Wil
Btw, feel free to argue w me in my inbox ab this but whilst i was quite critical - pls do not be mean to me or criticise me that harshly - if im talking to some1 one on one, i won't be this mean
(ALSO ANON, SORRY BC I WAS QUITE RUDE IN THIS REPLY BC I LOWKEY FORGOT I WAS REPLYING TO U, I WAS IN MY OWN HEAD AB WAFFLING AB SHELBY N WILL, LY AND TY FOR ASKING AB IT THO BC I DEFFO NEEDED TO WAFFLE AB IT SOMEWHERE)
#WAFFLE!!#tw abuse#wilbur soot#dream smp#youtube#shubble#shelby#tommyinnit#niki nihachu#dream#ash kabosu#lovejoy#mark boardman#dreamwastaken#mcyt#arthurtv#chrismd#twitch#minecraft community#twitter#sbi#technoblade
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Please go in depth on how you think wanderer isn't much of a red flag as he is now! I agree with you for sure, but I love hearing people's takes on him! Personally, I think scaramouche would definitely be a huge red flag, but I think as he is now, he'd definitely be really loving and caring towards his s/o
OF COURSE I CAN DO THAT!!!!
Scaramouche himself is definitely a very big red flag. From his ties with the fatui, murderous/abusive (to his subordinates) behaviour and as well as his rude manner of speech. He definitely isn’t the most pleasant person you’d want to date.
but Wanderer on the other hand is completely different. And because of this he is a much bigger green flag than Scaramouche and im genuinely so sick of people grouping them in together when he even said himself in game that he doesn’t want to be anymore.
So im gonna go over his green flags (more under the cut!)
1. Animals like him – He likes animals.
Wanderer is actually portrayed with animals in a lot of his official art (or aranaras), specifically birds and cats
His 2023 and 2024 birthday arts are literally just him chilling with animals. In 2023 he’s chilling with a bird and in 2024 he’s with a bunch of cats.
It’s not like he hates it either. sure it may seem like he does sometimes but he really doesn’t
-In his character demo he may have swatted the bird away when it came back at the end, but at the beginning he was completely fine with having it on him as he was walking. He probably only swatted it away because it was flying in his face when he was already annoyed with having to fight those fatui.
These two images are just him chilling with birds. The second one he even lets on his hand and HES SMILING he literally loves animals like they’re bffs in that picture ITS SO CUTE 😭😭
You can’t even argue that he’s only soft towards animals when he’s alone because of the scenario in his 2024 birthday art where the traveler meets him in the tree when he’s cuddling with the cats. It’s not like he’s even embarrassed or annoyed about them being there he’s just chilling with them!!!!! Sure he did tell the tabby cat off for playing with his vision BUT HE CALLED THEM FLUFFBALLS BEFOREHAND!!!! THATS A WORD THAT WOULDVE NEVER COME OUT OF SCARAMOUCHE’S MOUTH EVER!!!!! AND HE EVEN PROMISED TO PLAY WITH THE CATS LATER!!!!!! The white and grey cat also just lounging on his leg knocked out completely defenceless is also a sign. cats are usually very alert when they try and sleep unless they’re CERTAIN that they’re safe. and look me in my eyes and try to tell me that that cat isn’t feeling 100% safe sleeping on his leg.
This isn’t even his only appearance with cats minus him being portrayed as a cat. he has a chibi birthday art from 2023 that’s just him and a cat hanging out with a birthday present
The second piece of dialogue might make him look mad but the art literally proves it otherwise he’s just confused LMAO there is not a single angry wrinkle on his face nope NOTHING!!!!
2. His development with the Traveler
Wanderer’s attitude stayed around the same since he regained him memories, but it isn’t as bad as when he was Scaramouche. It’s very evident from how he talks to the Traveler before going to Irminsul and while they’re there for some time and then how he talks after regaining his memories. It’s much softer and he isn’t biting as much. Hell, he even asks the Traveler to give him a new name when he could’ve asked Nahida to or waited awhile before asking.
In his voicelines he’s still the same. Though the birthday one is something I’d like to focus on the most.
“Give me your hand. Heh, there's no need to be nervous. I'm just taking you to a vantage point.”
“How is it? The scenery here should be quite breathtaking. There's no need to thank me — I see little point in it.”
Wanderer went out of his way to do that for the Traveler on their birthday. He could’ve just barked that he doesn’t need to do anything for their birthday or that he doesn’t care or that they’re still enemies so he doesn’t need to celebrate it but he still does something nice for the Traveler regardless!!!Him initiating physical contact just to take them to a vantage point and reassuring the Traveler because they’re nervous is something he CHOOSES to do.
Now, I’ve always thought that he was flying the Traveler to the vantage point, but now that im rereading the line it literally doesn’t even mention him flying so LMAO
BUT ITS STILL SWEET IN BOTH WAYS
-He’s going out of his way to FLY the Traveler to the vantage point. And if he’d have to fly them there then obviously there’d be more physical contact than hand holding. That means he’s completely fine with having the Traveler in his personal space like that, so obviously he trusts them a lot more now to a certain degree!!!
-If he’s not flying to the vantage point, he’s still initiating physical contact with the Traveler even though he doesn’t have to.
LIKE OMG?????
In his birthday art scenarios, he’s completely fine with the Traveler hanging out with him. HE EVEN ASKS THEM TO STAY WITH HIM FOR A WHILE IN THE 2023 ONE IF THEY DONT MIND!!!!!
I feel like the 2023 one does a good job with explaining him and the Travelers enemies to friends (to lovers— GUNSHOTS) pipeline. He calls them meeting on his birthday a coincidence and gets ready to leave, but he’s completely fine with the Traveler not wanting to leave!!!! And when he asks them to stick around with him that’s clearly showing what he wanted the WHOLE GODDAMN TIME!!!!!!!
The 2024 chibi art scenario one is just them enjoying each other’s company. His regular birthday art for this year is kind of the same too. It shows how now neither of them dislike the other’s company, they’re fine with each other and they dont complain about it, no nothing!!!!!!
His Teapot lines are (OBVIOUSLY) the best examples of how he is when he fully trusts someone though.
Here’s a list of the things he does that are a complete 180 to how many people expected him to be:
-He apologises more often
-Criticises himself for criticising the empty spots in your teapot
-Perfectly fine with chatting whenever
-Despite saying to the Traveler that they should start the conversation because he has nothing fun or positive to share, he still dominates the conversation by talking about his tea preferences and how he came to like drinking tea in the first place
-Perfectly fine with sharing a meal with the Traveler that they prepared just for him
His goodnight line is really sweet too. Thanking the Traveler for looking out for him and telling them to go get rest. Like that’s so sweet 😭😭😭😭
I really do hope that he gets more plot relevancy in an event or in another archon quest because I really want to see more of his relationship with the Traveler now. They’re just so UGHHHHHH 😭😭😭😭😭😭
3. His behaviour towards other people
It’s not even just the Traveler that he’s nice to. He’s nice to other characters too!!!!
In A Parade of Providence he’s shown being nice to Layla and Tighnari
-He helps Layla by offering her advice when he overhears about her anxiety to participate in the swiftflies
-Gives the Traveler a water-skin to give to Tighnari because he fainted in the desert. Despite providing snarky comments about how fragile humans are to extreme environments he still goes out of his way to help Tighnari when he could’ve ignored what was going on to win.
I really hope we get some more interactions with Wanderer and the Sumeru cast because wtf!!!!! Why not!!!!!
In his 2024 birthday letter he mentions that his classmates surprised him for his birthday with a cake. And instead of being mostly annoyed about how they disturbed his peace and quiet, he’s more concerned about why they would even want to celebrate his birthday in the first place which is actually sad 💔
Wanderer doesn’t even seem to hate participating in events and things with other people either. In his 2023 birthday letter he mentions that he was dragged into a cooking interest group by a couple of students, and despite the fact that he could’ve just left or told them he didn’t want to participate or scared them off, he still participated in cooking with them.
As well as learning from an old merchant how to sew and stitch to recreate the tiny doll the boy from his past had made him. It specifically mentions that he went to visit Treasures Street to learn how to make toys, so this wasn’t just some run in he had, he CHOSE to learn how to make a doll so he could recreate that one. He even takes it with him while he travels and it notes how it feels like a travel companion to him 😭😭 AND THE ENDING PART OF THE TINY DOLL STORY
“"From today, you shall wander together with me."”
“He said softly, placing it in his pocket.”
LIKE THATS SO SWEET 😭😭😭😭
SO!!!! How would all of this impact him having a romantic relationship??
If you manage to become friends with him, it’s definitely going to take awhile to break down his walls. But in that time he’s definitely going to be snarky, but not outright rude to you. He’ll probably just get more annoyed if anything about being bothered a bit more frequent than he’d like, though he’d probably never say that towards you.
As you break down those walls though, he’s definitely going to soften overtime and he won’t mind your company. At some point he’ll probably be actively seeking it out.
And when you get together with him. He’s definitely gonna be loving and caring towards you!!!! Honestly I think his love languages are Physical Touch and Quality Time so he’s definitely going to seek those out from you, preferably mushing the two together.
Overall, in the beginning he’s probably going to be more tsundere-ish (ew… im never using that term again after this…) towards you but eventually with enough dedication from you he’ll break down his walls and let you in and show you his softer side.
And that’s why I think that Wanderer is more of a green flag than a red flag
Thank you for coming to my ted talk it’s 2am and I have therapy in the morning so uh whoops!!!!
If anyone wants to add anything please feel free too!!! It’s always nice hearing what other people have to say (as long as ur not rude about it)
#scaramouche#wanderer#genshin#genshin impact#genshin scaramouche#genshin wanderer#sorry if it seems choppy I did this on a whim#also I have learnt my lesson to not write everything exclusively on tumblr and then go back to look at other things because I accidentally—#deleted my progress for some of this because it didn’t save when I went to go find the images 😭😭😭😭#wanderer I love you
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Alright, time for some more quanglican analysis from everybody’s favorite second place winner of the Riz Gukgak prize for obsessive hyperfixation, this time focused on the lyrics to Sarah Barrios Teenage Rebellion. Lets get into it!
Alright, so we start out with verse 1. Pretty standard, but my brain has gotten caught on the “nothing’s as dark as it seems” line. Seems like maybe an indication that things aren’t quite what they appear to be, and that the team’s gonna need to rely on their allies, which would explain why so many of them have been taken out of the picture right from the start.
Okay, chorus time, and this is where I take a HUGE fucking theory leap out into nowhere, so stay with me, cuz I think the bad kids are literally gonna start a rebellion at Aguefort. I think Kipperlilly Copperkettle (and no I did NOT have to go look up her name, but it is absolutely wild that he has elected to give this girl 4 consecutive nouns as a name) is going to become a fascist dictator a la Trump, along with this android fucker, and the Bad Kids literally start a revolution to retake power along with the student body. I have…almost no evidence for this, but I am at least 43% confident we are headed in that direction.
Here we fuckin go baby!! Contradictions, strangeness, madness, we are INTO it! This is the verse that feels the most like its indicating timestream fuckery. Like, I contradict myself in particular is VERY wibbly wobbly, like “ooh, are we gonna get some self-on-past-self pvp? Are we fucking with the timestream?”
Anyways, thats the analysis! The quanglican reformation is upon us!
#quanglicanism#time quangle#fantasy high#dimension 20#fhjy#fantasy high junior year#d20 fhjy#d20#fhjy theory#sarah barrios#lyric analysis
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Fall For Me
So maybe you took the assignment a little...literally
Ft. Arlecchino, Capitano, Childe, Dottore, Pantalone
Arlecchino:
You probably shouldn't have given all those orphans piggy back rides
Your legs were aching and you still had quite the walk back to your place
So you dragged yourself along, slumped over yourself with your eyes on the pavement
Until you bumped into someone and fell on top of them
"I'm so sorry I didn't rea- Lord Arlecchino-"
You thought you were a goner, you didn't even have the strength to push yourself off her despite knowing how disrespectful you were being
"Stop struggling. You haven't enough energy to hold yourself up as it is."
You bit your lip and nodded, moving to roll off her when she picked you up effortlessly while getting to her feet as well
"I've been meaning to pay you a visit anyway."
Capitano:
Electrocharged was the worst elemental reaction
There you were, tripping over and flopping around, unable to get back on your feet as electrified water surrounded you
Which led to you somehow flopping onto Capitano
Fortunately, it didn't harm him because,,,well, metal
"Didn't I warn you to be more careful?"
It wasn't easy being the superior of a friend, but it was better than having you work for one of his colleagues
So that meant fussing over you when you pulled clown shit like this
"I'm not mad, just...worried about you, as always."
Childe:
Yeah, everyone saw this coming
He had a habit of running up to you to tackle you into a hug, it was only a matter of time before the both of you went hurtling to the ground
"Would you look at that, comrade, didn't I tell you you'd fall in my arms eventually?"
"You flung yourself at me-"
He was quick to hush you, still hugging you as he got up
Would it have been easier to stand if he hadn't been clinging to you? Physically yes, emotionally? Not really, according to him
He thrives on your affection, so please continue to let him dote on you
Dottore:
He'd laugh at you if you tripped
That includes if you fall on him because no, he wasn't trying to catch you, what are you talking about?
He refuses to admit he had instinctively stepped back from the workbench so you could catch hold of his arm instead of faceplanting into the floor
"Tch, careless idiot. Are you trying to be a hazard?"
You could argue that he's the hazard for distracting you but that'd only end in him ignoring you for the rest of the week
Unless you make it sound like a compliment somehow
Like how you couldn't help but be intrigued by the way he works, finding yourself too mesmerised to walk carefully
At which he'd only tsk at you again before brushing dust off you and shooing you back to work
Don't worry he'll approach you once he's done to "assist you"
Really he's just observing you because he hates to think you might know more about him than he does you
Pantalone:
Long story short, he tripped you so you'd fall into his arms and he could chide you for it
He's "scolding" you for being so careless as to show him such disrespect but the mischief in his eyes is more than evident
Naturally, he summons you to his office, but he's fooling no one with his stern tone, practically everyone knows he's fond of you
So much so that when he sends everyone but you out of his office to "discipline" you, many leave snickering about how your punishment will be anything but
You'll be made to sit in his lap, or massage his shoulders, sometimes cuddle him and kiss his jaw when he clenches it too hard as he does his paperwork
You should probably fall for him more often
Taglist[send an ask to be added/removed]: @myluvkeiji @pluvioseprince @aqui-soba @euphoric-author @paradise-creator @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @loverofthe-stars @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @howlantic @codename-hiraeth @andreiling01 @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating
#genshin#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#arlecchino#capitano#childe#tartaglia#dottore#pantalone#regrator#arlecchino x reader#capitano x reader#childe x reader#tartaglia x reader#dottore x reader#pantalone x reader#regrator x reader#genshin arlecchino#genshin capitano#genshin childe#genshin tartaglia#genshin dottore#genshin pantalone#genshin regrator#winery specials
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You know, if you think about it… there’s something powerful about durgetash existing entirely in body language and implications. If it was stated out loud, especially by Gortash, there’d be a lot more question of “does he really mean it, or is he lying?”. It could be easily tossed aside as a manipulation tactic on his part. But when half the reason we ship it is based on little smiles and the tone of Enver’s voice when he talks to Durge? Well, how can you even question it being real. You can’t call it manipulation because he’s not getting anything out of acting like a lovesick fool. It comes off as he just can’t help himself but show a glimpse of what used to be between you. And the letter of forgiveness is compelling because it’s not a flowery, out of character confession of capital-L-love. It’s not basic and cringey and it doesn’t erode the monster that is the Dark Urge. It simply forces us to ask ourselves how deep that admiration for a chosen of a sworn foe has to go before it’s necessary to repent for it. Everything makes sense as soon as you ask the question “why would Durge feel the need to beg forgiveness in the first place? Surely simple admiration is harmless enough?”. Put together with that lovesick smile you get walking into the coronation? Everything falls into place, even for some of the normies once they get that far, and the game never needs to say a word.
you are preaching to the choir, anon.
I find it so intoxicating precisely because it has such small evidence... and yet that evidence is honestly kind of powerful nonetheless?
like on the surface level, yeah it's one note and a couple of lines and one scene... but.
orin literally has a note in her room specifying that you "worshipped" the other Chosens and I know she's not talking about Ketheric, who seems to view you with mild irritation.
plus he lives pretty far away.
the prayer of forgiveness is nuts too, because I simply don't believe you'd pray to your parent/god for forgiveness for anything short of blasphemy. and what is blasphemy for the child of murder?
why it's cherishing life. a life, specifically.
the life of your rival.
and like... EURGH, orin's stupid line about how Gortash has always known how to "leave you twisted in his cords" or something like that, like, the fuck do you mean by that, bitch??
and just... that one scene... he just prowls around you like a cat in heat.
he's so happy you're back.
and he isn't lying to you! that's honestly the most confusing and wonderful thing about it.
he is telling the truth about your relationship and he's telling the truth about wanting to rule the world with you, just like you promised.
he's the world's most dedicated and loyal boyfriend, who was never happy with your replacement and always wanted you back.
it's a fucked up thing they had.
it was also tender and sweet and oddly wholesome, considering how they both had a degree of respect and fondness for one another.
and that's why durgetash lives rent free in my head and heart.
it exists in the margins, as something quite imaginary, and also quite real if you actually stop and look.
it's a work of art, crafted by us, elaborated upon by our work, from scant evidence.
we were given scraps, but as starving mad creatures, that was enough to fuel us through the winter, and now we all bark for blood.
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