#i love looking around for various commentary and it’s like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honkytonk-hangman · 6 months

Text

Line of Sight [4]

JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN X READER

Summary: In which everyone's worst nightmare is realised, and Jake's girlfriend isn't actually the reasonable one at all. She's actually just as bad. There's a reason she's with him, after all. or Penny bollocks you over your petty antics with Jake during a volleyball game, but you're too busy enjoying being the only thing on Jake Seresin's radar (on the ground, anyway).

Warnings: fluff, mentions of jakes clealry very healthy mental health that is in no way compromised or flawed and he defintiely wont be needing therapy. thats mostly a joke, this chapter is all fluff :P

Notes: Its done!!! thanks so much for readin this little series and sticking with it <3 I hope this is a nice little happy ever after for these two <3

MASTERLIST

“It's impolite to stare.” Jake scolds, not even bothering to look away from where he prepares to land his third bullseye in as many minutes. For your part, you don’t bother to stop staring as he at last throws his dart, earning a mix of impressed cheers and annoyed groans. You’re still watching him when he turns to you, ignoring the others as they clap him on the back or try to goad him into another game. Instead he steps in toward you, collecting his beer and taking a swig, now just as focused on you as you are on him.

“Say, you’re pretty good at this darts thing,” you ignore his prior commentary and instead shift your weight to pop your hip out. Jake takes another swig, raising an eyebrow, but shrugging all the same. “Maybe you could teach me a thing or two.” You bat your eyelashes innocently, earning an amused look from the blond.

“Who am I to refuse helping a lady out?”

Before you can even really respond, Jake has stepped around you, one hand trailing down your side and to your hip, the other curling around your elbow as he guides you the few steps over to the dart board. Just as ever when you do this routine, Jake is pressed right up behind you, and just as ever, he pays no real attention to teaching you a thing at all, instead simply using you as a vessel to show off once again. He knows you love it, and you do, your body growing warmer with every bullseye he lands, his hand at your waist gripping tighter when you snuggle further back into him. He squeezes you a little in warning when you wiggle your hips again, but when you glance up to shoot him your best innocent look, you find him grinning down at you with only trace amounts of smugness present.

“Gee, you really are good at this,” you tease, speaking softer now so only he can hear. Playfulness seems to leave his smile entirely then, and he leans in, hand tracing up from your arm to your chin, where he directs you to a much better angle for kissing. It’s only a quick kiss, but you can’t help but laugh a little at the way your little show melts Hangman right down to the Jake at his core. You bounce up to peck the corner of his mouth as he begins to pull back, aware of the crowded bar around you, and neither of you wanting to be that couple (although, you definitely were that couple, Phoenix has reliably informed you), but you weren’t willing to let him go so quick.

Jake chuckles at your display of clear affection, and even all these months later, you know it’s still something he’s getting used to. It saddens you sometimes, how he was so easy to give affection, but in many ways never seemed to expect it back. It makes you think of the year and then some that he practically ignored you, for what he thought was your own good, working off of the assumption that should you talk, you simply wouldn’t like him.

He was dead wrong of course, you had grown to like him without him ever saying a word to you, and once he did, your interactions only served to confirm the feelings you had. Jake’s soft little surprise anytime you plainly and clearly expressed your interest in him or what he believed to be his various character flaws quickly grew to be one of your favourite things about him, and you loved taking the time to complement or fawn over him at any given opportunity, to big him up in a way that you can.

You place one last kiss to the underside of his jaw as he straightens fully again, and you both become aware of the discussion of a pool competition. Still with his hands firm on your hips, he turns his head long enough to invite himself to the game.

“Duh.” Javy replies with a smile and a half-hearted roll of his eyes. Phoenix’s eye roll isn’t nearly as subtle, but her smile is.

“I’ll get you another drink,” you say softly, reluctantly extracting yourself from him. Jake seems to hesitate for a moment, eyes flickering between you and Dagger before you reach out and give his chest a light shove. “Go on, win for me, Hangman.” You have to suppress a giggle when his chest seems to puff out. A wide smirk pulls across his face, and he gives you a little nod. You loved how seriously he took these sorts of things.

“Careful what you wish for, baby, don’t want to get too competitive about a friendly pool game just to make you happy,”

“That is like the most romantic threat anyone’s ever given me!” you exclaim with a mostly genuine dreaminess. You yelp as you turn around, as the moment you have your back to him, Jake delivers a light swat to your backside. You fix him with faux-disapproval and flick your hair hastily in a way you know he finds extremely sexy.

“Careful there, Hangman,” you call in a sing-song manner, all the while he continues to smirk at you in a way that some may consider ‘infuriating’ (Review courtesy of Phoenix) or ‘annoying as fuck, man! Blink!’ (Feedback provided by Coyote). “Penny’ll have you thrown out for that sort of thing…'' you say with sickening amounts of fake innocence, batting your eyelashes at him, as he non-verbally calls your bluff, his smirk widening and his chin lifting as if to say ‘go on, then, do it.’.

You don't bother pretending you can win that sort of battle with him, especially not while you’re still clothed, so you flick your hair even more aggressively this time, and begin making your way toward the bar, swaying your hips dramatically for the sole benefit of the seaglass-green eyes that you know will follow you until you reach your destination.

You manage to find your way to the front of the drinks queues fairly quickly, and push yourself up and into the empty seat at the end of the bar. You’re in kind of a blind spot here, you’re more than familiar with the Hard Deck by now to know if you were anyone else, part of any other group, you’d be seriously worried about you chances of actually ordering, but all things considered, you aren’t anybody else, and you just so happen to be a part of the owner’s husband’s little band of merry men.

Penny spies you almost impossibly, and despite the heavy crowds at every other section of the bar, you see her pick up an already cleaned glass, and pretend to wipe it down as she makes her way to where you are, placing the glassware away and hitting you with a blindingly warm smile.

“If it isn’t one of my favourite love birds… what can I get for you hon?” Just as Penny finishes her eyes flicker to the place behind you before she frowns and looks back at you in slight confusion. “Where’s your shadow?” She follows up. You give her a little laugh and roll your eyes, gesturing the general direction of the pool table.

“He’s about to win some pool for me, although he did debate whether or not to come with me instead for at least seven seconds, so you know, we’re improving on the shadow front.”

Penny laughs loud and joyfully, giving a shake of her head at nothing in particular.

“If it weren’t so sickeningly sweet, I’d say good for him, but to be honest, at least I know he’s not going to get into that much trouble when he’s with you,” she says with the sort of wry knowingness one is only allowed to use when married to Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. You raise an eyebrow and cock your head.

“Why does everyone always assume I’m keeping him out of trouble?” you wonder aimlessly, knowing Penny wasn’t one of those people, and in this rare context, she was also correct about keeping Jake from trouble.

Penny shrugs.

“You and Jake are just about the most perfectly matched duo I’ve seen in a while, but I think you hide your assholery better than he does,” Penny tells you with a laugh. You pout at her.

“You think I have assholery?!” you ask, faux-offended. Penny reaches across the bar to give you a light smack, rolling her eyes at you as she does.

“I saw you at the beach party last weekend, egging that man of yours on to humiliate your poor new friends,”

The memory brings an immediate smile to your face and you let out an involuntary bark of laughter.

“Oh my god, but that guy was such a douche! God, he had no idea what he was in for, challenging us to volleyball! Idiot,” you snicker only a little evilly thinking about how thoroughly you’d wiped the floor with the small group of beach goers who had wound up joining your party, only for you all to realise too late that they were kind of really annoying.

“Do you know what most mature adults do, what the other mature adults did?” Penny questions like you’re a preschooler. You roll your eyes, again. “They ignore school yard bait and try to make peace.” Penny tells you, which you don’t think sounds like the right answer. She looks at you expectantly, as if she’s waiting for you to concede her point. You make a face.

“Penny, those guys sucked, and they were talking such a big game about their volleyball skills. They didn’t even bring a volleyball with them! It was a netball!” you justify. Penny you can tell is only half telling you off, being a not-so-reformed troublemaker herself these days. “Jake and I play v-ball literally every sunday, we didn’t do anything or humiliate anyone on purpose, all we did was accept the invitation of a game.” you don’t believe a word of what you say, but it does sound almost convincing. If Jake were here he’d give you a supportive nod.

Penny lets out a laugh and shakes her head at you.

“Only you and Hangman can take something adorable and sweet and romantic that you do together, and turn it into an opportunity to dunk on some tipsy losers who’d mildly annoyed you,” Penny says, still like she’s scolding you, but the sparkle in her eyes says she would have done the exact same thing had she and Maverick been thirty years old again, and if the mere suggestion of beach volleyball wasn’t cause for a physio visit.

“Besides, I’m glad y'all got to watch us play at last. Since we made the mixed regional team last week we’ve wanted to get you all down to a game sometime,” you say, dodging any accusation of pettiness. Penny nods enthusiastically.

“You know Mav, Amelia and I will be at every one of those games. We’ve got to make sure you guys actually win and don't just tell us you win, to get the free drinks I promised.”

You can't help but smile warmly. It was nice to have a family in San Diego, to be able to rely on people.

“Really, Penny, thank you so much for sponsoring the team, you totally didn’t have to do that, but it means a lot to us, to both of us,” you say gently, reaching out to rest your hand over her. Penny returns your soft smile.

“See, this is the sort of thing Jake would never say, not without a heavy helping of sarcasm, irony or whatever else he thinks makes him less vulnerable.”

You laugh at that and bow your head in agreement.

“Hey, I’m working on it with him. I mean, Pen, he still gets surprised when I just tell him that I like a particular facet of his personality… Anyway, in the meantime, I’m happy to be the emotional go-between.”

Penny gives you a knowing, sympathetic hum.

“That man is everything he says he is and more, but he just can’t seem to bring himself to believe it. I’m glad he has you to show him it’s not just bluster.”

Your eyes momentarily prickle at Penny’s frankness, the words painful to hear from somebody else. Although she’s completely correct, it really does upset you to think of the way Jake must consider himself sometimes, and why you were so determined to adjust the way he clearly thought about certain things, mostly, himself.

“Very little of him is just bluster, and I can’t understand sometimes how he doesn’t actually see that, considering it’s a narrative he made for himself… he’s complicated, but I’m pulling at those threads as they come,” you nibble your lip with a small frown, before dropping your gaze to the bar top. “I just wish he’d see him the way I see him, and the way other people see him…” you pause, and Penny lifts a sardonic, incredulous eyebrow at you. You immediately relent, waving your white flag on that point in the form of holding up your hands. You’d had to come to terms a while ago now with the fact that you’re an exceptionally unreliable source when it comes to how you think others see your boyfriend, Dagger squad notwithstanding. “Okay, maybe not the way other people see him. Pretty sure that's the one thing he’s not mistaken about.”

You both share a soft laugh before Penny straightens, and throws a cursory glance over her shoulder at the seemingly ever growing crowd around the bar, though she still remains clearly unbothered as she turns away from the rush, and shifts her weight to her hip as she looks back at you.

“Anyway, I believe you came for drinks, and I believe I should go get them. The usual?”

You nod, thanking her as she steps away to fetch one bottle that supposedly contained beer, before she fetches your much nicer, far superior sarsaparilla, and waves you off when you attempt to pay.

“My shout, for the two of you making the regional team, and celebrating by destroying some amateurs, because you were bored.” She tells you with a playful wink. You grin widely, cheekily, before shooting her a faux-scolding look.

“Rewarding us for our supposed asshole shenanigans? That’s only gonna reinforce our poor behaviour, Penny! This is exactly why we’ll never learn!” you call out raising the drinks as your excuse for choosing to ignore any self-growth.

You manage to narrowly dodge a ‘rogue’ ice cube that finds itself mysteriously launched at your head, and poke your tongue out at the now distracted bartender, who somehow sees your childishness despite her mixing some brightly coloured cocktail, and spares a moment to throw you the bird, then a blown kiss. You laugh to yourself, as you push away from the bar, feeling quite pleased with yourself, and adjusting your focus to immediately inform your boyfriend of Penny’s definitely very real disapproval of your actions, and not at all conflicting response to the two of you grown adults humiliating some random pricks that in complete honesty, you certainly would have expended far less energy by just ignoring for the rest of the night.

You pause briefly, realising that that is the exact sort of petty assholery that Penny had suggested you hid, and briefly consider that you’re just as bad as Hangman, not Jake. You quickly come to the conclusion that you don’t find that to be a terrible thing, and so shrug to yourself, and continue on, unbothered by such little things like being a peaceful, non confrontational and relaxed person. In your eyes, being chaotic, always down to clown (on others) and quite likely an incredibly petty asshole at times sounded like way more fun, and involved far less unwanted self-introspection, you suspect.

The closer you get to the pool tables, the less you have to work to get through the crowds. All the Navy guys tended to congregate most thickly in this part of the bar, a sea of flight suits and unfamiliar patches greeting you, a fun quirk of which you’d discovered fairly soon after you’d visited Jake on base for the first time a month ago. Although you had no clue who any of these sailors were, or if they knew Dagger in any way, they definitely had become aware of you, and more importantly to this topic, who you were dating.

It's probably the petty-asshole in you again, but you get a sweet kick of satisfaction when you approach anywhere near the Navy guys, and for the first time in any bar ever, you don’t have to make yourself known to anyone for them to get out of your way. It’s almost as though a definitely unknown person may or may not have subtly mentioned (see: threatened to the best of his not-inconsiderable abilities) to any Hard Deck regulars on base, that should you be making yourway over to your regular spot, they are to clear the path and make sure you’re able to walk without going unnoticed by rowdy sailors who can't hear or see you.

You’d be annoyed that someone, surely not anyone you’d know, went to such efforts after just one incident in which you were trying to get past some sailors for much too long, only for one of them to step and into you, making you drop the round of drinks you’d been carrying, but honestly, as a remarkably unintimidating woman who wasn't known for her great assertiveness when not backed up by her six foot actually intimidating Navy Officer boyfriend, you kind of loved that someone, who you really had no clue as to the identity of, had gone out of their way to make sure you’d not have any more issues during what should be an uneventful commute from the bar to the pool table.

You have no idea who could be willing to use their mean side to your benefit, the result of which is the most unbothered walk anyone has ever done in a crowded bar, and a bunch of random sailors you don’t know occasionally giving you polite, stern little nods as you pass, as though their instinct was to salute you, before they remembered that you are not in fact any form of authority to them, but they couldn’t not do something as a sign of respect. You really do wish you could find out who it was that had put the fear of god into these men, if only to give him some really, really good head later.

You finally arrive back at the pool table, the red sea closing back up behind you to form a seemingly dense wall of uniforms, that Payback looks at in clear confusion, then to you, as if you had an explanation you were willing to give. He lifts his brows and you shrug, putting on your best smile.

“Guess they just all thought I was cute or something’!” you say brightly, wishfully. From the direction of the pool table, a familiar voice responds to you.

“Yeah, I guess they did, how polite of them.” Jake says meaningfully, though you don't know what he’s on about, but you suspect is in fact a veiled suggestion-not-threat to the sailors within hearing range.

You wander over to Jake, making sure he's not about to take a shot before you step right into his personal space, and hand him his what apparently passes for beer these days. Jake takes a sip, and thanks you, dropping a brief kiss to your temple. You see him briefly take a look at what you’d ordered, only to receive a scoff.

“And you have the nerve to call my choice in drinks ‘nasty’. Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re drinking’ cough medicine.” This is the one facet of Jake’s personality you can’t stand, and have made clear to him you dislike.

“‘Oh look at me, I’m a grown man from Texas who hates Sarsaparilla, how unique and quirky!’” you mimic his voice in a fairly insulting way, it sounds not a thing like him, but that's part of the jab. Jake narrows his eyes and pokes you in the side.

“You ain’t witty, plenty of people hate that shit,” he tells you, frowning. You ignore him.

“Oooh, I claim to be accepting and appreciative of the few differences i have with my girlfriend, but always happens to forget her favourite drink when he goes out for snacks!’” you mock him further.

Jake huffs and is about to open his mouth, no doubt in his defence, but you cut him off, narrowing your eyes.

“You ain’t slick, Seresin.” you say darkly.

Somewhere around you, wherever your friends are, you don’t know, you hear Rooster whistle lowly.

“Hey guys, first fight!” he says mirthfully, but with no real conviction. You snap your head in his direction.

“This is not our first fight,” you correct him with an eye roll, no longer concerned with your petty argument, both you and Jake forming up into a single entity once more to face the rest of the world. Jake’s arm slings casually around your waist and he leans on his hip, into your side.

“Get a load of this, Rooster thinks that's what a couples fight really sounds like,” Jake adds, as if speaking to you conspiratorial, toxic levels of faux-sympathy for his squad mate.

“If that's what he thinks a fight is, I’d hate to see what he thinks a declaration of love sounds like,” you say, mostly for the benefit of Jake and yours little game you’ve started, and not for Rooster, who was already ignoring you both and rolling his eyes as he moves to take his shot.

You glance up at your boyfriend, who is smiling Cheshire-like, but he shoots you a wink when he returns your gaze. He turns toward you then, using both hands, both of which also hold a beer and a pool stick respectively, to grasp your hips and duck his face into your eye line.

“The corner store we go to for snacks doesn’t have sarsaparilla, but it’s kinda a bust most times anyway, let's find a new snack stop, alright?” Jake says, definitely earning him some extra, extra good head later.

“I didn’t think you really were leaving it out on purpose, it's so hit and miss in Cali what stores stock it.” you tell him, grumbling that you couldn't just go to any store and get you some cough syrup.

Jake hums, and steps around you, your convection on pause briefly as he steps up to take his shot, sinking all the balls he's supposed to and not the ones he isn't (you refuse to learn more about pool than absolutely necessary), before he turns back to you as if he’d never stepped away at all, and sweeps you up again.

“I know a place back home where you can get a year's supply, I’ll see if one of my sisters can figure something out,” Jake says softly, as if a little worried the others might hear him being so gentle and tender. The others, while certainly all pretending not to eavesdrop, only wear various expressions reminiscent of the sort generally worn after being shown a baby animal video compilation.

“And how are either of your sisters supposed to get a year's supply of sarsaparilla up to North Island from Austin?” you question, not wanting to bat away his clear intent to apologise for any wrong you may have thought he’d done. Jake’s eyes swing toward the ceiling like you’ve just said something stupid and he won't actually believe it.

“You forget I’m a pilot.” he says as if it's obvious and also a good point. You frown.

“Pretty sure your jet can barely fit you, let alone a bunch of sarsaparilla.” you say, feeling distinctly like you might be about to walk into a verbal trap he’s laid.

Jake huffs, and still keeping his eyes off of you, he all but stomps his foot at your logic and reasoning.

“Whatever, I’ll drive it back if I have to,” he says, even more quiet and even more worried of the others hearing him. You refrain from ‘aww’ing dramatically, and instead cup his cheek.

“You can just apologise or like, use your words you know. You don't have to communicate with me via intense acts of devotion and service.” you give him a little smile to let him know you were being serious, despite your light tone. Jake’s eyes fall on you at last and he purses his lips.

“It doesn’t feel like enough.”

“But driving around forty hours round trip to Texas and back again all for some cough syrup does?”

“Yes.”

You consider him for a few moments, but relent, and release him of his obligation to make eye contact during vulnerability, patting his cheek lovingly.

“Alright, well, if that's what you’d like to do, Jake,” you say, not fully understanding why words aren’t his thing in this one aspect of his life, when in every other area he excels in anything verbal, damn-near silver-tongued. But you also don't have to understand it, you just had to know it, and then see his displays of love and affection no matter how odd or unconventional or totally over the top and ridiculous, for what they were.

Jake takes a few moments to process the amicable end of that discussion, seemingly expecting a fight or more pushback, but you only nudge him, to draw him from his distraction.

“Hey Hangman, aren’t you supposed to be winning this for me?” you ask playfully. Making the blond frown at you as he looks between the table and your face.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” he asks back, making you pause. You glance back at the table with an earnest frown and after you seemingly take much to long to decipher the secrets of the little round balls, Jake chuckles, stepping up beside you and wrapping you up in one arm, pulling you in as he continues to laugh at you (you retract one extra off of the ‘extra extra good head’ you were planning on giving him later) and kisses your temple, his chuckle nothing sweet and instead completely, totally, and all-consumingly infuriatingly smug (Review by His Girlfriend).

“You have no idea what you’re looking at, do you?” he asks, quieter than you’re expecting, so only you hear. You glare, and answer him with an exasperated sigh.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, darlin’.”

You now glare directly up at him as he watches you with a mix of genuine assholery and softer playfulness that lets you know he’s fully aware of the former trait making a rare appearance in reaction to you.

Sometimes, you almost wish he’d go back to ignoring you. It had to be better than suffering this. You didn't deserve it, you were an occasionally good person, right?

Jake draws you back from your silent pleading for a time machine, and he leans down toward you, smolderingly self-satisfied with how his little display has gotten under your skin, and his expression combined with his much more intimate proximity suddenly brings to mind that night several months ago now at the club, the night that Jake had paid attention to you for the very first time, and you’d understood clearly what it must feel like to go up against Hangman in a dogfight, what it felt like to be in his direct line of sight.

Jake plasters on an identical smile to the one he has in your memory, but unlike that night, he gains an evil glint to his eyes, which you find out the reason for mere seconds later, when he gently boops your nose in a manner that tells you he definitely knows has lost him all extra good head privileges for the night.

Apparently, he deems it worth it, and sadly, you can't help but be swept up by him, rolling your eyes in mock frustration, but unable to keep from grinning up at him like a lovesick fool, waiting for him to finish his line.

Jake’s smile turns momentarily sweet, but he quickly covers back up with his bluster and fake mega-douche routine you actually definitely loved.

“Let ol’ Hangman take care of it for ya’.”

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction

389 notes · View notes

stararch4ngelqueen · 6 months

Note

Hi! I have been obsessed with your Jason fics for a couple of days. They are just so sweet and incredible. I simply love them and I think that thanks to you I have a new comfort character 😊

I kind of had a little 🤏 anxiety attack in a situation similar to the one I am going to request yesterday. But, somehow imagining Jason recomforting me and thinking about your stories helped me to ease my mind for a while. So thank you so much 🫶🏼

If you have time and like the idea, could you make a fic in which Jason and fem!reader at a Gala in the Wayne Manor and the reader kinds of stress out because people keep asking her questions and looking at her (maybe because that it's their first event as an official couple 🤔) and Jason helps her and assures her that everything will be fine

Hope you have a good day!

Aww I’m sorry to hear that. I get those a lot with my job. Sorry it’s so short, but I hope this helps!

—

“I’ll say it as much as I have to,” Jason’s voice rumbles comfort in your ear, his hand settling snug along your back.

“You look stunning, babe. Don’t worry.”

His words became a temporary balm to your rising concerns, causing a nearly endless bubbling in your tummy.

You weren’t like this when you arrived, fiddling with the skirt of your dress in the back of the limousine. It began when you caught various flashes of photographers along the manor gates, attempting to catch evidence of tonight’s Gala attendees.

Of course, Jason’s commentary from how you’ve done your makeup, to this gorgeous… gorgeous silk dress you picked out for the event, was ever such an ego boost.

A rich, merlot color, complimenting the collar of his button up under his tux jacket. All of Gotham knew just how extravagant Bruce Wayne’s galas were, ranging from charity events to holiday celebrations.

Part of you was excited to attend, despite it being out of your comfort zone. Lots of important people, plenty of snobs looking to get on Wayne’s good side. You imagined that one scene from The Devil Wears Prada; the main character himself strolling along with an aura of charming confidence as he greeted his guests, while his sons lounge around the stairs in absolute boredom, adorned in their secretly signature colors.

Jason usually avoided these events, but just for tonight, he wouldn’t mind attending as long as had his lovely girl by his side.

The dress made you look like complete eye candy. He wasn’t afraid to say that. His girl deserved to look her best, as long as people knew who you arrived and were leaving with at the end of the night.

“What if they ask a bunch of personal stuff?”

“Tell ‘em a bunch of personal lies,” Jason shrugs. “S’what I do all the time.”

Lying seems the most reasonable. Rich, important people do it all the time. What’re they gonna do, fact check you on the spot?

“Ah ah,” he holds up a finger the second he sees your lips open, shaking his head after another sip of champagne. “Look, if they were that desperate to look for truth here, then what’s the point of secret identities?”

After nearly an hour of gentle symphonies accompanying a handful of introductions at a time, your polite smile grew a little more strained. Shaking hands of many faces you didn’t care about, politely nodding your head towards patrons you accidentally made eye contact with and so on, had you clutching Jason’s forearm just a little tighter.

He remained by your side, offering you some soda water or champagne to settle your nerves after finding you both a semi-quiet retreat in a slightly vacant corner.

You weren’t sure why your mind began focusing on the outer talk of guests around you, but you begin to hate yourself for it.

Questions varying from who you were, hushed mutters of if you were simply bribed by lavish gifts to attend. Was another son of Bruce Wayne following in his playboy footsteps, going from girl to girl?

Such comments even went as far as to compliment your hair and makeup. You even heard a woman say this shade of red didn’t suit your skin tone. What does that even mean??

Soon enough, the music grew as loud as the chatter, making your chest swell and burn with irritation for the mental overstimulation.

Jason takes a fresh drink from a tray before leading you out from the stuffy crowds, striving into the courtyard patio. A warm, natural floral breeze helps wipe your senses clean after breathing in a cloying concoction of expensive fragrances all in one room.

A few well dressed patrons were scattered about, smoking cigarettes neatly tucked in slick metal cases. Jason didn’t stop there, leading you down a short set of curved stairs leading into the gardens.

“Breathe, babe. I gotcha.” He holds your hand at first before reaching for his jacket buttons. “All this liquor didn’t get to your head, did it?”

His teasing nearly fell on deaf ears as he draped his coat over your bare shoulders, making his smile slowly fade from your silence.

“You sure you don’t just wanna dip? We can stop at a diner and tell the waiters Batman crashed our expensive, high school prom.”

“Bruce won’t get mad?” You question after a short smile, watching Jason’s lips purse with a firm head shake.

“I mean, we showed up,” Jason clarifies while balancing his empty glass along a nearby stone bench. “No one’s really telling us to stay here.”

A faint air of defeat floods your shoulders, even when your favorite person offered the solution to your anxieties. You thought you’d be more confident, holding the aura of poise and elegance so many women held at these events.

Overall, it was too much. The music, the people, the cologne.

Somehow, a late night diner sounded a whole lot better the more you thought about it. Bustling bells ringing for hot plates, palate cleansing coffee flooding your nose, greasy bacon, and orange juice lacking any expensive champagne.

“Keep that pretty head high, princess.” Jason gently gives the bottom of your chin a gentle nudge with his thumb, gifting you a handsome smile.

“You showed up, that’s all that matters. I’m proud of you.”

#Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x female!reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd dc #yuhhhhhh #that one comic photo of him with champagne #yuhhhh

272 notes · View notes

padfootdaredmetoo · 9 months

Note

Hi lovely! Hope you’re doing well. I really like your writing and I was wondering if you’d be open to do a Tangerine smut where he realizes how much effect he has on reader (like with using pet names and stares and stuff) and he decides to make use of that?? Idek if you like something like that so if you wanna adjust pls feel free! Thanks so much💗

Heyo,

Thank you for this request, it's honestly been on my mind FOREVER. This is a mess with poorly written conflict and plot, but hopefully, I make up for it with spice. Thank you for sending this in and for being so patient with me, love. Enjoy!

Warnings: BIG dom/sub vibes, shooting, guns, violence, bad plot, smutty smut, established relationship, anxiety, mentions of the reader having a rough childhood, fingering, fucking, idk all the spice I guess, very supportive partner? good aftercare, very loving

So far vacation was an excellent idea. Lemon was occupied, flirting with anyone he could manage leaving him the space to fully enjoy the lovely lady pressed to his side. The relentless tropical heat placed you in various soft summer dresses. He watched you sip on your drink, providing commentary on Lemon’s interactions across the bar.

He was only half listening, recognizing that your tone was relaxed and happy. His shoulders relaxed, a feeling he found strange. He and Lemon were out. That life was long gone behind them. The past few months were strange in their predictability and slow pace. There was something else though, in the pit of his stomach. Something told him the other shoe would drop eventually.

There was only so much he could handle before he wanted that dress discarded on their bedroom floor. He pulled you up and enjoyed the flash of electricity that sparked in your eyes. Your red lips curved into a grin and he regretted the decision to go for drinks so far away from the hotel.

You leaned into his side as his arm came around your shoulders, Tan hoped that he wouldn't have to live a day without that feeling.

You both enjoyed the warm air as you walked along the boardwalk. His eyes fluttered around, checking every shadowed corner, every vantage point. He knew that he might relax a little, but some things would stay with him forever.

He could feel the hair on the back of his neck rise up before he heard the shot fire. He pulled you behind a closed kiosk. It was quiet except for the ringing in his ears. He looked across the street to an empty warehouse. Pulling you along he made a run for it, putting you in front of him.

Once inside he rounded the corner and heard a familiar voice yell out “GET DOWN.” He was distracted by the immediate rage he felt that Ladybug was here. Causing trouble and now giving him orders. Piece of shit. He didn't realize that you had immediately ducked down behind a large metal barrel instead of following him to the shipping container.

He could see your face in the shadows. Your eyes were wide and your hands were shaking. Another round of gunfire exploded from the entry.

There was a horrible bird call that made Tan smack his forehead despite feeling relieved that Lemon was there. He hoped, for your sake, that Ladybug would be siding with them in whatever mess this was. Then, when it was over, he would kill him slowly for dragging you into this.

His eyes only strayed away from your face to survey the space around you. That barrel was going to give away eventually and he needed to tell you to run across when they reloaded. Stuff like this never needed to be spoken with Lemon, but you had clearly never been in a spot like this.

Using his hands he tried to explain what to do. You mimed it back to him the best you could and he gave you a thumbs up. He held his hand up telling you to stay in place as the bullets cut through the space between the two of you. Your arms covered your head but thankfully you were tough enough to keep your eyes on him, focused on the goal.

The fire stopped and he took a breath motioning you to run across. He stepped out and provided cover. He could hear Lemon somewhere on the rafters also picking off the enemy. He could tell that Lemon had the advantage and he knew it would be over soon. He caught you in his arms and held you close. He guided you down to a crouched position. His hands ran across your body looking for the slightest bit of damage.

“Good girl.” He whispered breathlessly. Despite the chaos, he lived for the way your face changed. Your eyes got heavy, and you sucked in a breath. He knew you were in shock, probably not in your right mind, but he put his thumb on your bottom lip. His fingers brushed your neck, feeling your pulse hammering. He should stop, this was not the time or place to be distracted. But his confidence in his brother’s abilities awarded the darker parts of him a few more moments with you like this.

“You did so good for me.” His voice was thick with intention he was consumed by the way you went under for him. Being shot at in a foreign place tucked behind a storage bin, you clearly had too much faith in him. His other hand slid up the inside of your leg, just high enough to brush across the wetness that he wanted so badly. You closed your eyes and he heard Lemon’s victory cry. Reluctantly he helped you stand up.

“Finish this later” He mumbled righting himself. He hated himself for doing it, for enjoying it, when he should have been protecting you.

Ladybug told them a long-winded story about the mission he was on as he drove the large SUV away from the warehouse now consumed with flames. Tan knew that he brought those idiots here to where they were because Ladybug knew they would help him. Stupid fucking ididot.

“I’m sorry where are my manners -” Ladybug's eyes landed on you from the rearview mirror and Tan gave him a look. Apparently, it did its intended job as Ladybug gave him a respectful nod and made no reference to you for the rest of the drive.

The night became longer and longer. They packed up their hotel room and Ladybug got them onto a private flight. The getaway was smooth, and they were comfortable all things considered. Tan was obsessed with you, unable to understand your behavior. You didn't lean into him, you clung to him. He thought about everything he knew about you as they got carted from plane to plane - then from car to car. He felt he had surely made the top three traumatic events in your life.

He would get you somewhere safe enough to snap out of whatever haze you were in. You would rightfully lose it at him and he would return you home and pay for some extra security on your apartment.

You didn't want to talk, you just drifted in and out of sleep holding onto his arm. He was thankful that Ladybug ignored your existence while still handing Tan blankets and a hoodie for you.

Eventually, they ended up at a safe house they had in Norway. He carried you into the cabin, noting that he would need to get you some new clothes tomorrow. The place was freezing having been abandoned.

Tan sat you on the edge of the bed and stepped back out into the hallway to see what Lemon needed from him. Without looking up from the laptop on the center island of the kitchen, Lemon just pointed back to the bedroom. Tan was relieved, and let Lemon do the setup.

Unsure of how to start the conversation he shut the door and sat on the bed next to you. You tucked your knees to your chest and wrapped the many blankets around yourself.

“So, well. Erm - bit of a mess back there huh?” He hated himself even more for his inability to do the right thing.

“That was a lot. Sorry, I’m not really prepared for this type of stuff. I don't know how to push it down like you guys.” You said with chattering teeth. Your words ran through his mind a few times.

“Your apologizing?” He was suddenly angry, he would never be able to fully understand how badly your parents had messed you up.

“Yeah, I was kinda useless. No gun, but also not a lot of training either - not to mention I sort of just shut down after.” You shrugged. “Sorry, I couldn't bring more to the team.”

He wanted to shake you and shout. Tell you to be angry, show you how. Instead, he remembered the last time he shouted at you and how much pain it caused you.

Instead, he grabbed your shoulders. “Sweetheart. Baby.” He said calmly. “You should be very angry at us.”

He watched you slip away again and he wanted to punch the wall.

“I put you in a lot of danger.” He watched you focus on his lips, eyes heavy. He considered derailing this conversation entirely but knew how important it was that you understood.

“I didn't mind.” You mumbled airly. He let out a sigh, swearing under his breath.

“Baby, you should mind.” He said seriously. “Look -”

“Tan, you kept me safe.” You whispered back. “This is the best thing I have. I don't mind if it’s dangerous.”

“You should - You-”

“Please” You pleaded with him in a wet voice.

“What?” He asked caught off guard.

“Just - not tonight. I want you to -” You couldn’t find the words and nodded at him like he would figure it out. “Just do the thing,” You said finally.

“What thing babygirl?” He gave up and decided he would punish himself for it later. “You tell me what you want, baby.” His tone of voice was enough to send you into the haze.

“I don’t know, just want you.” You said in a small voice and he finally kissed you, eating up the moans that escaped your lips. You were dangerously submissive. Something he wanted to handle delicately but struggled with as you would beg him for more.

He slowly got you out of your clothes, not wanting to push you. You laid back on the bed looking almost pained by experience. He brought his hand out to rest on top of your chest. He felt your chest sink as a large sigh escaped you.

“So beautiful” His words painted a thick blush across your face that ran down your neck.

“Did so good for me today.” He praised you and you looked possessed as you bathed in his words. “Such a good girl.”

It was even more evident how badly neglected you must have been as a child. Anger swelled in his chest before he reminded himself that he might as well shower you in it now. That's what you wanted.

His hand ran slowly down your chest. His hand cupped your breast and he slowly encircled your nipple before giving it a light squeeze. He watched your patience wear thin at his slow pace. He was sure you would snap at him like you usually did. This time was different, fat tears swelled in your eyes and spilled over your cheeks.

“Baby what’s wrong.” He asked brushing the tears off your right cheek.

“Want you.” You choked. He didn't think it was humanly possible to be this vulnerable and open. Yet here you were, tied up in knots over how badly you wanted him.

He shushed you soothingly. It was impossible to deny you. He ran his hand down your stomach and finally to the place you needed him.

He gave you praise over every little moan and twitch, watching you fall apart. He got you to climax, thinking this would snap you out of it. Your chest was heaving and the dreadful tears were back.

“Please.” You gasped. He again, could not deny you, even if he wanted to.

“Be a good girl and wait for me.” He said firmly removing his hands to take off his clothes. You lay there on your back, legs still wide apart, for the first time without shame. You always wanted to be under the sheets or hidden. He looked down at the wet mess between your legs, he felt pride in making you happy. This wasn't something he was taking from you, this was something he was giving you.

Once coming to terms with this being about you, his hesitation left him. He knelt between your shaking legs, enjoying the way his fingers slid through your folds with ease. How his two fingers slid inside you with no resistance. Your body was truly desperate for him.

You moaned and contracted tightly around his fingers.

“Good girl, squeezing me so tight.” You let out a ragged breath in response. He wanted to stuff his cock as deep as you could manage, but he was enjoying the way you unraveled for him too much.

He pushed the length of his cock through your folds enjoying the way your hips bucked wildly as the head of his cock brushed your clit.

“Fuck” He breathed. “So good for me baby.”

He circled your entrance again with the tips of his fingers. “Gonna put it right here, baby.” He watched you squirm with impatience but pushed you further. “That what you want?” The pushed his fingers in slowly. “Want my cock right here.”

Your walls contracted around his fingers again as you let out a moan.

“Please.” You begged.

“Please what? Use your words. Be good for me.” He chuckled as you tightened around him again.

“Please let me have your cock, there - please.” The words were a struggle for you as his fingertips rubbed against the sensitive spot.

“Good girl.” He removed his fingers and with much control, he pressed the now slightly purple head of his cock against your entrance. The wet heat was unbearable, he took a deep breath and as slowly as he could manage pushed into the spongey tightness. You choked out a sob that was jarring to him. He stopped and watched you try to buck your hips up. His hands came down on your hips pressing the down into the soft bed.

“No,” He said firmly. Your face twisted up with impatience. You relaxed then he pushed inside slightly further. Your back arched and he stayed at that depth, slowly moving in and out. Even with your hips being still, your hot walls tried to pull him in further.

He had never understood it. Never had any reason to pursue it. If anything, he thought it was weird. When the words fell from your lips with such reckless abandon, all his self-control snapped.

“Dady”

He left no time for embarrassment to worm its way in. He was now consumed with desperation. He pushed into feeling himself stretch you out fully. Your cervix crowned the head of his cock and he retreated, only to press into you hard and fast.

Your mind and body broke down around him. Nothing made sense anymore, no time, no problems. Just you all around him.

You came, coming down around him tight enough to push him out. This only made him hold you down harder wanting to be in you fully when he found his own release.

“You going to cum again like that for me baby?” You let out a strangled noise and he pushed further. “I want you to cum nice and hard for me, help me off, baby.”

He felt your body start to fill with tension.

“Help me cum” Your body started to get tight, this time he held you down. “Just like that, good girl.” He grunted. Your body swallowed him down before constricting around him. Your body choked around with enough pressure to force him to release. It hit him like a truck, staying still as your body pulled his seed from him. After what felt like an eternity of breathlessness and pulsing he collapsed and tried his best not to crush you.

He felt your arms settle around his neck. Your fingers running through his hair.

“I don't know what that was. I don't know why I liked it. But I did.” You said firmly and he let out a chuckle.

“Did I get you back then?”

“I’m here.” You said.

“You mad about everything?” he asked, happy to be able to talk to you with a clear mind.

“I feel a lot of things right now, mad isn't one of them.” You whispered giving his hair a slight pull.

He enjoyed how you didn't protest him when he tried to look after you. You were always so eager to show that you were independent, so certain he would punish you for anything less.

Now you were letting him wash your hair. Your muscles relaxed as his hands ran over you with soap.

Once dried off you curled up against his side and fell asleep. No nightmares, just sound asleep at his side.

It was almost enough to make him feel like this was meant to be.

The time he shouted at her

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine imagine #bullet train 2022 #bullet train #bullet train movie #bullet train imagine #Bullet train smut #tangerine bullet train #tangerine smut #aaron taylor johnson

398 notes · View notes

goldnhourwrites · 3 months

Text

Not enough people talked about these so I'm gonna do it myself because oh my god (commentary and headcanons below, it's just long)

Sett has a little travel-sized sewing kit in his bag... it's so tidy... sett stitching things back together when his bandmates rip them...

Sett just casually carries around like 20+ pounds of dumbbells. Mans is literally always working out. The grind never stops.

"yo Ezreal can you grab my bag for me?" "Yeah sure--what the FUCK do you have in here? This thing weighs a hundred pounds."

His little exercise headband... and is that a hair tie behind it? Sett with his hair tied back??

Sett's energy bar collection. Sett's the type of person to pack an entire backpack full of snacks for a road trip.

Ezreal has a plushie OF HIMSELF on his bag.

this guy practically collects aesthetic glasses. 3 pairs in the bag plus the circle ones he had in PARANOIA.

Sharpie (for signing autographs???) His signature on the polaroids of himself???

The photo under the lip balm looks like it might be Ezreal and Aphelios. Ezreal's the type of person to make sure he has photos with all of his friends. Ezreal hanging up his favorite polaroids in his room.

can we talk about the all-white fit in the very bottom photo omg

Aphelios has back-up headphones for his headphones.

WHO SENT THE SNACKS. WAS IT ALUNE. WAS IT SOMEONE ELSE.

The writing on the note looks like Korean but unfortunately I don't know any Korean :(

his sticky noted book... is it a journal? is it full of lyrics? who put the little smiley face sticker on the front!! does he write in it!!

I love the idea of Aphelios just pulling out a little keyboard whenever he wants to write down a tune. How well can he play the piano? Only enough to write music, or does he have songs memorized? Does he ever play for anyone?

K'SANTE'S DRAWING TABLET

he's not just in charge of putting together their fashion, he designs it himself. i'm going to scream

I am in love with those glasses. I need art of k'sante in those glasses ASAP. i will do it myself if i have to.

What is his book!! What does the W stand for!!

The way the button on his gloves matches the one on his jacket in his LoL splash art. This tiny detail is driving me insane.

Also, the cologne? The top is the same as his necklace? Does he have a specific personal cologne? So elegant...

Kayn's Pentakill guitar pick. Let me see him play the guitar I beg

The crumpled up receipts. This man goes Shopping (also see: cash, various coins). And he just has a bunch of random shit in his bag because he never bothers cleaning it out.

the open leaking bottle of hair dye. please. do you NEED that

The random jewelry... I love the idea of him either a) taking it off, shoving it in his bag, and forgetting where he put it or b) bringing backup drip with him everywhere in case he needs more

While Sett, Aphelios, and Yone all opted for headphones, Kayn's gone with good old-fashioned corded earbuds. Does he not like headphones? Is it because they mess up his hair?

Big ass box of matches and For Why? Does he smoke? Is he too cool to carry around a lighter? Does he just like setting shit on fire?

Yone keeps a little emergency travel kit. Band mom energy. He's got band-aids and a toothbrush and toothpaste At The Ready.

Bottle of lotion? Yone with a skincare routine? Yone who stays moisturized? Everybody in Heartsteel asking Yone for lotion?

Earplugs (for sleeping on long bus rides, maybe?) I want to see Yone going "I'm sick of this shit" and tuning the fuck out.

Yone is the only one with a real headphone case. Aphelios has his around his neck 24/7, but his wireless earbuds have a case. Sett's just shoving his in there with twenty pounds of dumbbells and hoping for the best.

Yone's got so many little gadgets and I don't even know what they all are. He has his laptop and (probably) his phone, plus a smartwatch, and maybe a portable charger? He's that prepared.

I can't tell what the object beside his smartwatch is (looks wooden?) If anyone knows, let me know? I'm so curious

This man's got even more stuff inside his bag. Yone doesn't leave the house without like fifteen things in case of an emergency.

good news everyone. i'm still losing my mind over them

#heartsteel #heartsteel sett #heartsteel ezreal #heartsteel aphelios #heartsteel k'sante #heartsteel kayn #heartsteel yone

98 notes · View notes

jo-harrington · 11 months

Text

Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 4)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Word Count: 13.8k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.

Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Angst, body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, unrequited love, mutual pining, fatphobia (if you squint?), Babysitter Steve, unresolved feelings, manipulation/deception, Things That Require Communication (Too Bad There Isn't Any), Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, brief mention of suicide, self hatred, loss of identity, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, dry humping

Note: Ok this one...took a while. And after 3 rewrites and me coming to a 3 am epiphany that I'm a better writer than I give myself credit for, here we are. Shout out to @ghost-proofbaby @trashmouth-richie @br0ck-eddie @big-ope-vibes and I'm sure a lot of other people for getting me through this. My computer is currently running like a potato and doesn't want me to add more to this text post.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

"What do you guys think he's doing?"

"He seems pretty focused. New lyrics?"

"Nah, he has to be planning something really messed up for Friday's session."

"Or, instead of lurking around and gossiping like old biddies," Steve raised his voice to add to the commentary. He glanced up from his notebook and passed an expectant look at the rest of Corroded Coffin as they hovered a few feet away, lunches in hand, hesitant to join him at the lunch table. "You could just ask. Now are you guys gonna just stand there looking like nerf herders or are you gonna sit?"

The boys immediately jumped and shuffled to the table to take their seats.

"Uh, so...Eddie," Jeff began hesitantly as worked on the latch of his lunchbox. "What, uh, are you writing?"

"Miller wants an essay about the Constitution," Steve explained and scratched his forehead with the worn-down eraser of his pencil.

"Oh shit, and it's due today?" Dave went wide-eyed.

"Nah, not til next week," Steve shrugged, and then looked up to see the dumbstruck expressions on Eddie's friends' faces. "What?"

"You're...doing homework that's due next week?" Gareth laughed. "Who are you and what've you done with Eddie?" The other boys chuckled and Steve couldn't help but crack a secret smile.

If they only knew.

It was another hour, another day, another week in the body of Eddie Munson.

For the most part it had been bearable, and Steve wondered if it was actually getting easier or he was just getting used to it. He really hadn't realized how many plates Eddie kept spinning though, and when he initially questioned how Eddie continued to fail senior year...well he quickly changed his tune.

On top of the Hellfire Club, Corroded Coffin gigs and practices, and the endless parties that he seemed to be invited to deal at, he seemed to take care of everyone.

He made sure the kids and the guys were all protected from bullies, which meant Steve had to perpetuate the whole Satanic facade--he was getting pretty good at the devil horns and tongue. The money he made dealing immediately got split between various stashes around the trailer, then his and Wayne's wallets, which made Steve extremely guilty about the allowance his mother bribed him with gave him. And if that wasn't enough, Eddie was the one who shopped and made meals for Wayne and, surprisingly, Reefer Rick.

Steve had only seen Rick a handful of times over the years before Eddie had taken over as the designated dealer at all the high school and college parties. More recently, Rick would only make a trip into Hawkins to stop by the VFW and then swing by Family Video. He never questioned why...and he almost felt ashamed that he never did before now.

He got too hung up on rumors and jokes. About Rick. And about Eddie.

Steve had promised to play the part though, and he did...but it was really starting to wear him out.

Still...Steve figured that he would make the slightest bit of an effort on Eddie's school work. For all the glory days of high school that Steve had...he was getting pretty sick of Hawkins High. At the very least, he could help Eddie get out of here. And at the most, if he was stuck in Eddie's body forever...well, he didn't want to be a 50-year old high school senior.

Jeff and the guys had mocked Eddie's speech about flipping Higgins off during graduation...and damn if Steve wasn't going to make that happen, come hell or high water.

The younger boys finally took their seats at the table, Dustin practically bursting with frantic energy, as usual, and Mike extra glum.

"What's got you down Wheeler?" Steve asked, throwing a pretzel at Mike's head. "I know it's only Monday but..."

"Someone's keeping my birthday present a secret," Mike groused and Dustin rolled his eyes.

"Here we go. He's been complaining about it all day," he explained. "Lucas and I literally can't have a minute alone to discuss it."

"You know I hate secrets."

"And he tried to bribe Will."

The two of them squabbled back and forth and Steve grinned fondly.

He might've loathed the homework but he was glad he got to see the kids more. More still, he was...almost grateful that Eddie had been there to guide them through the minefield of the first few months of freshman year, since he couldn't.

"Alright, that's it. Shut up!" Steve finally shouted. "You're just gonna have to have a little patience, Wheeler. Just cuz your mommy still says you're special, doesn't mean everyone else is gonna let you walk all over them."

The guys all snickered and made quiet jabs and kissy noises at him, calling him Mama's Boy and the like, as Mike turned red.

"Shut up I don't--hey, how did you know about that?" he narrowed his eyes. Steve's eyebrows jumped in challenge and Mike backed down with a sigh. "Whatever. Fuck you guys...anyway, Eddie, my sister wants to talk to you," he announced in a bored tone.

Now that piqued Steve's interest; he sat up straight and glanced around the cafeteria for her.

As though he didn't know exactly where she and Jonathan Byers sat.

He felt his heart speed up when he met her eyes and she waved him over.

Steve had done his best over the last year-and-a-half to get over Nancy. He'd gone to prom solo, asked new girls out left and right...shit he'd even tried to get her back once or twice. Or at least get her to dump Jonathan. He wasn't entirely proud of it but...Robin had really been the one to set him straight.

He'd faced a lot of bitter realizations but he thought he'd been through the thick of it. Seeing Nancy in passing now and again at school though...well it wasn't doing anything to help that.

And now Nancy wanted to talk to Eddie? Why? They didn't have any classes together--she had practically all Advanced Placement classes and Eddie obviously didn't. Aside from his association with Mike, Nancy steered clear of Eddie.

As Steve got to his feet--ignoring Dustin's cry of "hey can you meet me in the library after school"--a laughable thought struck Steve.

First you had confessed your crush on Eddie. What if Nancy was next in line?

He faltered in his step as he made his way across the cafeteria.

Maybe it wasn't so laughable after all.

Since you had made that little confession to "Eddie," Steve had gotten half-the-idea in his head that...well Eddie wasn't that bad of a guy, what if he could find Eddie a girlfriend or something? He'd tried to ask out a few of the cheerleaders who had approached him about dealing at a party but was promptly laughed at.

And he wasn't gonna even bring up that one girl who was lingering in the theater department last Friday after school, as he went to set up for Hellfire with the kids. He was lucky she didn't just die of fright as he said hi.

What if the answer was Nancy all along?

It almost made him feel a little sick.

Except...

She liked...weird guys like Jonathan...and Eddie was certainly a weird kind of guy. And one of the things Nancy had liked about Steve had been his cool personality. Sure Eddie was sort of a loser...but she was popular now thanks to Steve...what if she liked the cool, bad boy and was getting bored of Jonathan.

As he continued on his journey he mentally calculated the distance between Will and Nancy. Their table was pretty packed--filled with their friends from Newspaper--and there was more distance between them than there had been between him and Nancy right before they broke up.

"Hey, uh, Byers, Wheeler," he greeted awkwardly and crossed his arms over his chest and devoted his attention to Nancy. "You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah can we..." she got to her feet and motioned toward the door.

Steve's heart pounded in his ears as he followed.

"Listen, Miss O'Donnell was a little worried about your grade and she asked if I could maybe...tutor you," Nancy explained, then paused pensively. "Actually, I asked her for a letter of recommendation for one of my applications and she said she would if I tutored you ahead of the midterm. Sorry. I-I do think she's really concerned about your progress though."

"I think the more accurate statement is that she doesn't wanna see my ugly mug in her class again next year," he joked and she gave him a tight-lipped, sympathetic smile.

"I didn't want to agree if you weren't open to it," Nancy sighed. "But I really need that letter. You'd...you'd really be my hero if you did this."

Steve stared at her for a moment, his thoughts racing at all the possibilities.

It didn't really sound like she was tempted to leave Jonathan in the first place but...that didn't mean he couldn't turn on the old Harrington charm. She had fallen for it once...maybe she enjoyed the charm just in a different package. And yeah, he had you waiting for him if he ever made it back to his body. But...if he didn't...

"Listen, I want out of here as much as the next person," Steve finally replied. "So, uh, I'm game if you are."

"Great!" Nancy placed a hand on his shoulder excitedly and Steve could practically feel the warmth of it despite the layers of denim and leather. "Uh...I have some free time after school today?"

Steve vaguely remembered Dustin wanting to meet him...he was sure it had something to do with the spell and he certainly didn't want Nancy to find out about that.

"I, uh, have a Hellfire thing," he lied. "How about Wednesday? I always study better with a few snacks. We can meet at Benny's? 5 o'clock?"

Nancy nodded and confirmed the time and place. She placed her hand on his shoulder again, then went back into the cafeteria.

It took a second, but Steve suddenly felt like all the wind was knocked out of him.

"Eddie" had a study date with Nancy on Wednesday.

He had a date with Nancy.

Eddie was halfway through his shift before anything exciting happened.

Sorry, halfway through Steve's shift.

He really wasn't trying to be bitter but...

Eddie had spiraled for a few days after the unfortunate mishap while he was trying to...relieve himself. Sure, it started with "Steve's" relationship with you, but it was almost like Pandora's box; once the box was opened, everything flooded out. He couldn't sleep without thinking of it, and every waking moment, he was consumed by the blaring differences in their lives.

He wasn't himself and it was driving him crazy. Making him sick.

The smell of the laundry detergent Mary Harrington used, the taste of the tap water in their hose, the softness of Steve's bed.

He'd tried to get comfortable in someone else's skin but the truth was that he wasn't going to fit in it, even if he wanted to.

However, in order to get back to his own life, he needed to keep playing the part of King Steve Harrington, keep stuffing himself into a place that didn't fit. Ignore the stifling tightness, the bulges, and the stretching at the seams of his very being.

That didn't mean he had to give up everything that made him Eddie.

He'd had a day off last Tuesday, and he'd just...spent it trying to reconnect with himself.

He'd stopped by Rick's for weed--and also to check on him, even though Rick wouldn't realize he was Eddie--drove up to Fort Wayne to get high and walk through the conservatory, buy some concert tees at the second hand shop.

By the time he arrived at the Hideout for Corroded Coffin's gig, he felt almost whole. And then he had one of the best performances of his life.

Only to realize that he couldn’t fully enjoy it.

Which led him to skip out on Benny’s with the guys after the set, because as much as he wanted to see you, he knew he couldn’t stand to witness the way you would be indifferent to “Eddie” only to dote on “Steve.”

This was so fucked up. He didn’t know how much longer he could take it.

It was as he had that very thought that his beloved van pulled up right outside the store and “Eddie” and the kids piled out, looking frantic and excited.

Dustin caught Eddie’s attention and quickly waved to get him to come outside.

“I thought you were the babysitter Harrington,” Keith sniffed judgmentally from the front of the shop where he was stocking a display. “What’s Munson doing here with your kids?”

“He got custody in the divorce,” Eddie snarled and vaulted over the counter. “I’m taking my lunch.”

“Wh-hey?!” Keith stuttered as Eddie strutted out the door purposefully. “You forgot to clock out!”

Steve and the kids were all talking over one another excitedly by the time he reached the group.

“They wouldn’t tell me shit until we got here,” Steve grinned. “But apparently they figured out how to fix this.”

“What?!” Eddie’s eyes went wide, the prospect of being back in his own body too monumental to not be excited. “That’s great!”

“We’ve translated the passage!” Dustin announced.

“We?” Lucas asked skeptically.

“Lucas translated the passage,” Dustin amended.

Before Eddie knew it, he and Steve were sitting in the back of the van as Dustin, Lucas, and Will went back and forth over their findings.

He felt like he was in an episode of Columbo for a minute. The kids being detectives who solved a great mystery and were reliving their investigation step-by-step. Lucas did most of the Latin translation, but part of it fell on Will’s shoulders. It wasn’t your run-of-the-mill Latin they learned in class but some obscure dialect.

“Which, uh, I coincidentally have a book about because I have actually been coming up with that one-off campaign for Mike’s birthday,” Will confessed and reached up to scratch the back of his neck as he turned red. The other boys whooped and patted him on the back and Eddie couldn’t help but feel proud of him too.

Eddie always said these kids were the future of Hellfire, but truly he couldn't see them having a better DM than Will Byers.

"Anyway," Dustin returned to the topic at hand. "This is what we ended up with." He pulled a crumpled up piece of notebook paper from its place within his backpack and handed it to Eddie.

The page was covered in crossed out words and different scribbles in each of the boys' incredibly distinct handwriting.

"Jeez, you couldn't have at least rewritten it on a fresh piece of paper?" Steve asked critically. Dustin simply rolled his eyes and grumbled something along the lines of "next time you're cursed, you're on your own" as Eddie and Steve leaned together to read the translation.

A journey soon begins, its prize reflected in another's eyes. If what you see is what you lack, then selfless love will change you back.

Eddie felt his throat tighten as the guilt washed over him.

Sure, he had accepted that the fault lay entirely with him--he already vowed not to use any occult books for future campaigns again--but seeing it there on paper just solidified it.

A prize reflected in another's eyes. You. But you weren't some prize to be won. Sure he...he wanted you to be his but you weren't some object. And to think of you that way...well...he knew enough about magic to know that it didn't happen by accident. He had to believe that you were a prize, at least a little bit, to make something like this happen.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes wearily.

This wasn't what he wanted at all.

"Alright, so what does it mean?" Steve questioned.

"It means you two are jealous of each other," Lucas explained.

Both Steve and Eddie stiffened.

"What?" they exclaimed in tandem. They looked at each other and Eddie laughed while Steve simply looked horrified.

"What do you mean, jealous of each other?" Eddie scoffed.

"Oh, come on Munson," Steve rolled his eyes. "Of course you're jealous of me, this entire predicament we're in is because of you and because--."

"No, no," Eddie held out a hand to stop him from continuing. "Shut up. I'm jealous, alright? Jealous that you seem to get everything handed to you. Anything you want? It's yours. Is that what you wanna hear Stevie?

"But," Eddie paused and narrowed his eyes. "Why are you jealous of me?"

"W-what?" Steve coughed awkwardly. "I'm not--"

"Why did you say that Sinclair?" Eddie jumped to his feet and pointed at Lucas. "Why did you say that we were jealous of each other?"

"Uhhh..." Lucas squirmed a little under the intense scrutiny of the older boys. "W-well...it's about the way the sentences were structured. I'm not...I'm not an expert or anything but it's referring to you in plural. If what you, vōs, seek is what you lack. Not you, tu."

Eddie then turned back to Steve and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well?" Eddie asked expectantly.

Steve was still for a moment before he began fidgeting. He fumbled over his words--a bunch of well-you-sees and you-don't-understands--as he pinched the bridge of his nose and ran a hand through his hair. Eddie watched, almost sympathetically knowing how hard it was for him getting used to Steve's unfamiliar body, as Steve faltered with his longer mane.

"It's...I...it doesn't matter!" Steve finally shouted. He jumped to his feet and put his hands on his hips; he began pacing back and forth, one arm occasionally flailing as he gesticulated. "It doesn't matter why I'm jealous of Eddie? So what? We need to figure out how we can fix this.

"Selfless love? For what? For each other?" Steve blew a raspberry childishly. "Fat fucking chance. There has to be another way. I don't care what we need to do. I just want to change back."

"Change back from what?" a light, raspy voice sounded from over their shoulders.

The entire group stiffened and turned toward the voice and, lo and behold, there stood Robin. Shuffling her feet back and forth restlessly, frozen in place as she tugged her family video vest from her backpack. The moment everyone's eyes were on her, she grinned bashfully and waved at them all.

"Well, shit," Steve cursed in the most Eddie-like fashion.

If it had been up to Steve, Robin would never have found out about the whole...switching bodies...curse...spell...thing...

But when did something he wanted ever be taken into account by the universe, huh?

As soon as the group had realized Robin was there, all of the deflection and anger drained from Steve's body. He felt guilty for another one of his friends getting dragged into this mess. Because as much as he was happy to let Eddie take the fall, the fact of the matter was that Steve was just as jealous of Eddie.

As much as Eddie had admitted to being of him.

Steve had wanted to give her an explanation right then and there, and he would have if Keith hadn't chosen that moment to be his usual effervescent self.

"I'm closing the arcade tonight," he opened the door and glared across the parking lot at "Steve" and Robin. "So you need to clock in Buckley, and if your friends are still here by the time I take my break later, your hours are getting cut."

If there was one thing Steve had to choose that he didn't miss about his own life, it would be his boss.

So Steve brought the kids home and then returned to the Family Video parking lot to endure panic-inducing silence as he waited for Eddie and Robin to close the store. He could have listened to one of Eddie's endless tapes or smoked--Eddie's body was constantly craving one thing or another: cigarettes, sugary or salty snacks--to kill the time. He simply couldn't bring himself to do it.

It was a literal out-of-body experience. He watched himself and Robin talk and laugh as they went back and forth, helping customers and cleaning up once the store was empty. He knew his friend, knew that she was stronger and smarter than other people gave her credit for.

But this? This made him feel dizzy sometimes if he thought about it too hard.

He hoped they wouldn't get too far, so he could at least...have a decent conversation with her for the first time in a few weeks. Short of seeing her in passing at school...well...he hadn't gone this long without talking to Robin since they became friends.

And he really needed his best friend right now.

Eventually the lights in the businesses of the strip mall began to click off, one by one, and Steve practically held his breath until Family Video's lights finally shut and Eddie and Robin exited the building.

Eddie slapped a hand on Robin's shoulder and said something that made her roll her eyes before he got into Steve's car and drove away.

Robin made a beeline for the van and silently hopped into the passenger's side. Steve's hands--Eddie's hands--gripped the steering wheel tightly enough that he could feel the rings cutting into the creases of his fingers.

The atmosphere in the van was heavy as he sat under Robin’s scrutinizing gaze.

"I knew something was up," Robin finally announced as she slammed the door closed. Steve looked at her as though she had grown a second head.

"What do you mean ‘you knew?’” Steve asked incredulously.

She sighed and began counting on her fingers.

“You’ve been a real grouch when you’ve picked me up from class lately and I know you’re a morning person. Which sucks, by the way. You asked if I wanted to skip home room and get McDonald’s breakfast with you, you hate McMuffins—”

She went on and on, and Steve melted. Yeah, he could admit they had their squabbles and they didn't always see eye to eye. But at the end of the day, no one really understood them like they did each other.

And it felt really good to be understood as Steve Harrington right now.

"--and then you're always complaining when your mom doesn't cut the crusts off your sandwiches and lately you've just been eating them. Also I mentioned something about Vickie the other day and you just ignored it, so I figured that you were just annoyed with me."

She heaved a little bit at the end, having said the last bit in one go without stopping for air. Steve reached across the console and flicked her ear, causing her to slap at his hand.

"Ow, butthead! What was that for?" she exclaimed.

"Are you fucking kidding me Rob?" Steve burst out laughing and Robin chuckled along with him. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"How was I supposed to know you switched bodies?" she slouched into her seat. "Here I was thinking that you just didn't wanna be friends with me anymore. Which, you have to admit, is a more likely explanation."

Steve was about to protest but he stopped mid-word and frowned.

"You know what? You're right."

"I know," she grinned smugly. "Now what have you been up to and how much help do you need with this whole 'switching back' thing? Because Eddie isn't that great at being Steve, which means you must really suck at being Eddie."

They went back and forth as Steve put the van into drive and regaled Robin with stories and mishaps in the short time he'd spent as Eddie Munson, and she laughed at his stupidity.

After he left Family Video, Eddie found himself driving aimlessly through the streets of Hawkins. He thought a weight would have lifted off his shoulders after he explained everything to Robin, but everything was...almost a little worse now.

She'd had questions, like any normal person would. Actually, a normal person would have just had them committed. Robin was special though; her own brand of freak. And she was quick to adapt.

Eventually though...the topic turned to you.

When was Eddie gonna tell you what happened? Did you already know? You deserved to know before you fell too hard for Steve; otherwise, you'd be heartbroken if you ever found out that he was actually Eddie.

Of course, that only fed into all of Eddie's insecurities and self-hatred. All of the doubts he had spent days trying to stuff into the furthest corner of his mind returned with a vengeance.

You wouldn't feel the same thing about him if he was actually Eddie Munson.

Robin didn't know exactly what her words had done to him; she was fully oblivious to his real feelings for you. So he'd done his best to keep those thoughts at bay, and resolved to treat himself to a drive around with the windows rolled down and headband to Metallica as he smoked.

But then Robin opened her big mouth as they locked up for the night and it sent him into another spiral.

"You know...with a little more time, I would have probably figured it out," she chuckled. "You're not as good at being Steve as you think."

At first he wondered if that meant you might figure it out with a little more time. You were sharp, especially when it came to other people; what if one day he did something so inexplicably Eddie that you simply refused to believe he was Steve anymore. Sure, you probably wouldn't be able to guess that he actually was Eddie but...he wouldn't be the Steve you liked anymore.

If he did tell you the truth, would you break up with him? Would you hate him? He'd gotten close many times...but it was just so...ridiculous.

But then Eddie realized that he had been banking on the fact that he was doing all sorts of lovely things with you, had such a deep connection with you--he thought so, at least--and that Steve himself could never live up to it if they switched back.

What if he had you wrong all along? And it wasn't the deep connection that you both built? But just...the fact that he was Steve? You really hadn't had many .boyfriends during school, when you hung around with Mickey's sister. Or any, actually. What if you had a crush on Steve all that time and now...

Eddie felt sick.

Sicker than he was the other night. Sicker than he felt after a bad high. All he wanted was to go back home; not the empty Harrington house, but home. Back to the trailer and his stupid bed and to Wayne, who would give him a stiff hug once he saw Eddie was feeling so down.

But he couldn't.

So he went to the place that felt the next closest to home as he could get right now.

To Benny's.

Benny's had always felt like home to him. When his mom was still alive, waiting tables. She'd pick him up from school and sometimes bring him to work with her. He'd sit at a table in the very, very corner scribbling in his notebook or reading; she'd always scold him to do his homework but Benny would bring him a milkshake and tell Eddie that if he never finished school Eddie didn't need to either.

And to you.

You'd become more home than he ever realized before. Faced with the thought of losing you, he knew he would get over the pain if he absolutely had to. He could move on. But something would always be missing. If none of this had ever happened, the home that you were to him would have stayed cherry pie slices on Tuesday nights and the scribbles in his old notebooks.

But now he knew the taste of your kiss and the weight of your hand in his. He couldn't pretend anymore. He had to know.

Eddie didn't hesitate as he pulled into the gravel parking lot. He was out of the car and headed into the diner as soon as the keys were out of the ignition.

It was almost closing time, so the diner was pretty quiet save for a family finishing up a late supper and Chief Hopper who sat at the counter with a slice of apple pie, chatting with Benny through the serving hatch. You were hunched at a table--the very same table his mom would sit him at--rolling silverware; your eyes darted around the diner every so often to make sure your customers were taken care of, and they immediately sparkled when they landed on him.

The motivation he had to make it into the diner was immediately replaced by those stupid nerves.

"Hey honey," Eddie greeted nervously once you crossed the diner and stood before him. The courage momentarily gone, especially as you made it to the door to greet him. "Uh...table for one?"

"We're about to close," you frowned and glanced over your shoulder. "Uh, but I can ask Benny if--"

"Wait, no," Eddie stopped you before you could go anywhere. "I was just kidding. I really wanted...to see you. I missed you."

"Oh! I missed you too," you grabbed his hand in yours and squeezed. "It looks like you came here straight from work. Everything ok Steve?

His ears started ringing; there it was again.

Steve, Steve, Steve.

The name he had gotten so used to and so sick of. The person he had gotten so sick of being.

"What do you like about me?" he sought suddenly, desperately. "Like...really, why did you agree to go out with me when you could have...dated any other guy?"

Your eyes went wide and you began squirming nervously. He couldn't quite place it but there was something there...something that made him even more nervous.

"Uh, hey Ben, can I take a quick 5?" you asked over your shoulder and Benny poked his head through the window. He narrowed his eyes at "Steve" momentarily but nodded.

"No funny business kid," Benny warned. "She's the best I've got."

You pulled Eddie out the door and to the side of the building, where you took your breaks. Where he had danced with you last week.

"So?" he began impatiently. "Why do you like me?"

"Where is this coming from?" you questioned quickly. "Did...I don't know...did Eddie say something to you?"

"Eddie?" Had you...told him something? Something that would upset "Steve?" What would you tell him? And why hadn't Steve mentioned anything about you talking to him.

Eddie tried to rationalize it. You saw him as a friend, and Steve knew you thought Eddie was a friend. Steve still saw you as his own girlfriend. Maybe you were trying to...Maybe you...Maybe he...

Fuck it was really confusing if he really thought about it. He just needed a straight fucking answer. Otherwise he was gonna go crazy.

"No," Eddie shook his head. He would have to go out on a limb here. "No Eddie didn't say anything but I...I don't know. We've been going out for a little while I guess...even when I first asked you out, I never asked why you said yes. And I just...don't know why you would even want to go out with me."

Your eyes got sad, and took a breath, almost relieved, as your fidgeting stopped.

"I mean, I guess...I've had crushes and stuff before," you began.

Crushes? Oh god, what if you were about to confess you had a crush on Steve. Steve...well he understood, Steve was handsome...not his type...it would hurt but he understood.

"N-no one ever...ever really wanted to ask me out for more than...than a party or something," you chuckled. "I mean they did but...high school right? Everyone kind of sucked. You kinda sucked too Steve.

"And I really wasn't...ok it's funny because I was actually planning to break things off with you." You chuckled and Eddie perked up a little. "You were kind of...self centered, and you...you kept...I don't know. I know you had that breakup with Nancy, so I didn't want to be mean, but you just kept bringing her up!

"But then you...you really surprised me. I told you...you're not...not anything I expected. You don't even seem like you were when you first asked me out. You're...caring and you listen. You're funny, and you like classic horror movies? And then you--"

You went on and on, eyes getting brighter with each word. Eddie felt lighter. Everything you said that you liked about him, well they were all about Eddie. Not Steve.

He was...he was getting in his head for nothing. That's all it was. It was just...nerves and...and...he had nothing to worry about. He could have you, when all was said and done. Hell, he could probably tell you right now once you were finished; tell you the truth about the spell, tell you that he was Eddie, tell you that he...liked you and that you were the thing that kept him going all this time.

You'd probably be...confused. But you knew him. You knew Eddie. It would all make sense in the end. And hopefully, you wouldn't turn him away.

In that moment, however, seeing that pride and confidence take over you as you listed all the reasons you liked him--the way you were so sure of your feelings--made Eddie's own confidence falter. He wasn't an idiot, he knew that telling the truth felt freeing. To you, you were just confessing how much you liked "Steve," and while all of the things you just said made him...so incredibly happy...he couldn't help but wonder...

What if you were angry that he kept this secret from you? What if you...hated him for lying?

Robin said it herself, you deserved to know the truth, before you fell too hard. He should have told you immediately. He shouldn't have acted in his own interest. You were...you deserved so much better.

The doubt you just helped brush away began festering inside of him again.

You deserved to know the truth, but he couldn't hurt you more now. And as much as he wanted you to...to love him, to love Eddie Munson he knew that you would feel too betrayed to ever trust him again if he told you.

"--and it kind of helps that you're really cute too." You finally finished with the brightest, most tender smile he ever saw. "Sorry I guess that's just the long winded way of me saying...I really like you Steve."

And as Eddie ignored the twist in his gut at Steve's name--as he kissed you--he decided that he simply couldn't tell you the truth. Ever.

Eddie felt bad just leaving after he barged into Benny's like that, and to be completely honest, even though the guilt was eating at him he didn't want to leave your side. He convinced you to go out with him for a late night snack and then he followed you home where he gave you another sweet kiss on your front porch.

"You're spoiling me," you giggled as you fiddled with your keys.

"You deserve a lot more than I can give you, Honey," he told you truthfully. "So much better than someone like me."

"Impossible."

It was close to midnight when he pulled into the Harrington's driveway, and Eddie cursed when he noticed the two expensive cars parked beside each other and the lights on in the house.

He hadn't had the misfortune of encountering both of Steve's parents at the same time yet. His dad was usually at work and mom usually just...gone, so the few times he did see them...they were just on their own and he could dodge any questions or conversations.

"Whatever you do, just don't talk to them," Steve had told him. And Eddie had kept up that end of the deal so far. He couldn't be so sure now. He would just have to try his best to get up the stairs and into bed before they noticed their "son" was home.

Eddie turned the key in the lock as quietly as he could, entered the house and closed the door behind him without more than a click. He avoided dropping his keys in the little dish on the table in the hall--

There was chatter coming from the living room, quiet laughter. That was odd. From what Steve made it sound like, his parents always fought.

--but he couldn't avoid running into the table itself. The table wobbled and the other keys in the dish clattered and caused a commotion. The laughter stopped abruptly.

"Steven?" Mary's voice sounded frantic and alarmed.

Shit.

"Yeah mom, it's me." Eddie winced and tried to steady the table.

"I didn't think you'd be home tonight, it's already so late." She was immediately in the hall, eyes darting around, arms crossed over her chest. Her makeup was smeared and hair disheveled. Even her clothes looked in disarray.

Gross. Eddie didn't want to think about the Harringtons fucking on the couch he took a nap on the other day.

"Worked late," Eddie answered dismissively, wanting desperately to get out of this situation. "Just like dad does."

Eddie tried to take a step around her--if they knew he was home, he might as well grab some water or a pop before he went up to bed. Maybe a beer if he had to think of Steve's parents like that. Mary immediately stepped in front of him and blocked his way.

"I was worried," she stated blankly, eyes dead on him now.

"Clearly not, if you thought I wasn't coming home," Eddie snarked, annoyed now that she was making this difficult for him. Here was the bitchy PTA mom Mary Harrington he knew and loved. "I just want to get a snack and go to bed."

"It's late, just go to bed Steven."

"No, I--"

"Now is that really any way to talk to your mother?" a deep voice sounded from behind Mary.

Eddie rolled his eyes, now ready for a fight with Big Papa Harrington--

The thing about the Harringtons was that they looked like something out of a Sears Catalog. Tom was tall with salt-and-pepper hair that coiffed perfectly on his head, bright blue eyes, and a firm, trustworthy voice that always meant business. Mary was a petite brunette with warm hazel eyes, impeccable taste in clothing, and a sweet voice that went shrill when she was upset. And Steve was a good mix of the two; the perfect poster boy for their coveted suburban life.

--only to freeze in surprise when an older man with blond hair stepped out of the living room. His necktie was in his hand, lipstick was smeared across his mouth, and he was shrugging on his suit jacket. The flag pin on his lapel glinted in the hall light, like the unspoken warning in his eyes.

Eddie's mind raced as he tried to make sense of it all.

Steve asked him not to talk to either of his parents very much, to keep their interactions with him short. How he got bitter at even the mention of his parents. The lunches, the calendar, the laundry. The allowance money that she gave him, even though practically everyone knew Steve had been cut off from his dad's wallet. Eddie thought that the allowance money was the secret they were keeping from Tom.

"You can't be mad at me forever, Steve," she had told him the other day.

"It's good to see you again, Steven," he smiled his election-winning smile and put a protective hand on Mary's shoulder. "We were just discussing how the historical society is contributing to the--"

"Larry was just leaving," Mary announced and glared up at Mayor Kline. The Mayor nodded and patted his hand on her shoulder once again before he slunk between them and out the door, Eddie's eyes following him until he was gone.

For all the gruff manner about him, Eddie's uncle Wayne was a bit of a gossip monger. Always had been. He got most of his gossip from the ladies around the trailer park that would offer a cup of coffee in exchange for some handyman repair work that they couldn't do themselves. So Eddie had become quite adept in Hawkins gossip. Rumor around town was that Tom was the one cheating. It was why Mary had the nicest car and the most expensive jewelry. It was why she went on all of his business trips and was treated to lavish weekend getaways.

No one expected that...

"You're cheating on dad," Eddie practically spat at Mary. She heaved a heavy, tired sigh and rolled her eyes a little bit.

"Yes Steven," she agreed. "We've been through this all before. I'm ruining the family, your father is going to be heartbroken, but I don't think I see him here." She waved her arms out and looked around.

"It's past midnight and he's still at the office crunching the numbers," Mary continued. "There are things you just don't understand and you won't until you're grown up and married. But seeing how late you're coming home. Working late. Just like dad.

"So I don't want to hear it from you. I already made you a deal. You got your allowance back. I get to keep my secrets."

She waved her hands dismissively then turned back into the living room, leaving Eddie behind in the hall to process the entire conversation.

He went through the motions as he trudged up the stairs and got ready for bed. As he went to brush his teeth...he stared at his reflection. At Steve's reflection. Stared into tired eyes with purple circles underneath them and a gauntness that hadn't been there earlier.

On top of all the other shit he was feeling...this especially was heavy, and sickening.

Not because Eddie was fond of Mary or Tom or douchebag Mayor Kline.

Not because he was under some illusion that marriages were supposed to be perfect and families were happy.

Not even at his own partial triumph that the perfect Harringtons were truly about as far from perfect as one could get.

But at the realization Steve had to live with the truth that could break up his family.

Steve's visit had you practically floating through the next few days. It was unexpected and so...perfect.

You had gone a few days without seeing him. Not that...you were trying to be clingy or anything. But for the past two weeks he had been consistent in his attention and affection for you...and for it to suddenly stop the day after you tore up your diary and resolved to get over Eddie?

After you told Eddie about your crush in the first place?

It had you in a panic. And, of course, instead of try to communicate and reach out at all, you internalized it and catastrophized.

What if Eddie told Steve? What if Steve hated you now? What if that's why he hadn't called? Or come in with the rest of the guys after their next show?

You thought it all came crashing down when Steve had stopped by and asked you why you went out with him. You thought he was trying to get the truth out of you and for a moment...it felt like the worst thing in the world.

Losing Steve felt like the worst thing that could ever happen to you.

But when he asked again, seeming so lost and insecure. God, it just cut you, because...how could he not see how great he was? Why did he doubt that you liked him?

You relived it after you got home that night. Went over every moment, tried to make sense of it all. Tried to pinpoint anything you had done. And really the only thing you could think of was telling Eddie about your crush.

But...the good definitely outweighed the bad. Your little self-pity and worry over Steve's abandonment of you had vanished and...even now, you were still giggling over him. Over the happiness you felt that you liked him so much, that he liked you back. Liked you enough to worry that you might not like him.

You had to admit that it all felt silly. All of the back-and-forthing, all the doubt. But silliness was good, and it just made the days pass by swiftly. Benny had kept grumbling good-naturedly at your bright smile. He teased you and asked if you needed a quick 5 minute break later and if Steve would be waiting outside for you after close.

Hell, even Lynn's bitterness wouldn't ruin your good mood.

"Alright, Sunshine," she groused at the start of the early dinner rush, just as you came back from your break. "Better hike up that skirt a few inches. Your boyfriend's here, so you gotta look extra cute if you want a good tip. God knows your serving isn't good enough for it."

You felt yourself getting hot from embarrassment; not for Lynn's rude comments but because she said boyfriend, the fact that he was so recognizable now.

God, if Steve was here, Benny would never let you hear the end of it. But how did she know? Steve had work on Wednesdays...

You subconsciously touched your hair and adjusted your uniform before stepping into the dining room. Your eyes swept over the tables, looking for his familiar fluffy head of hair...only to come across another incredibly familiar head.

Your boyfriend. Lynn thought Eddie was your boyfriend.

Eddie's long, curly mane took flight as his head was thrown back, his laughter lost over the din of chattering customers. For a second you assumed he would be there with Jeff or Gareth--hell, he might even be there with Mickey catching up--until you saw the ultra-styled brunette perm that bounced with every motion.

In that moment, you either turned to stone, or you fell into a deep, dark abyss. It was hard to tell. It could have been both. Or neither. But something happened to you and you ceased to exist as you did just seconds before. Benny's little bell in the service hatch sounded flat and distant. The grumpy old man demanding coffee simply melted into the floor. Lynn became a blur in your peripheral vision and phased between tables like a phantom.

And Eddie and Nancy remained in perfect, painful focus.

Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler.

The bell in the window dinged twice and Benny shouted something to Lynn, effectively breaking you from your trance. You wiped your now-clammy hands on your apron and quickly approached the table.

"Hey, how's it going today? Can I get you guys something to drink?" You forced a polite smile onto your face and glanced between them.

This was the closest you'd been to Nancy...possibly ever; she was a year younger than you and aside from your interactions with Steve now, you really never had any business hanging near him when you were still at Hawkins High. She was really pretty. Her blue eyes sparkled, her smile was cute, and her voice was sweet and soft as she asked for coffee, please. Some dark part of you that made you hate yourself though that she was everything you weren't, and you couldn't blame it because Eddie was looking at her like she hung the stars.

"Eddie, are you gonna order?" Nancy's eyebrows jumped expectantly. "It's busy, I'm sure she has other people to help."

"Oh he's a regular he gets--" you started to defend him but Eddie cut you off.

"Just ice water." He didn't even look at you. "Thanks honey."

Your throat got tight and you shot them both a tight smile with a quick "be right back."

How did she do it? How was she...how did she get everyone? She had a boyfriend right? Unless they broke up. But still...she had Steve hung up on her for God-knows-how-long, and now Eddie was like a lovesick puppy.

Your mind raced as you retreated back to the kitchen and went through the motions of your job. Lynn was terrible about starting a fresh pot and you were relieved that you'd have an extra minute of respite to think before you did something stupid like spill hot coffee in Eddie's lap.

What were they doing here? Was this a date? You thought...you saw textbooks on the table. Were they just doing homework or...did they have class together? You'd offered a study session with Eddie once. Not a date. And it was in the library and not Benny's. Fuck. Was it a date? Fuck. And he never looked at anyone like that, let alone you.

Your movements were jerky and full of emotion. Coffee grounds spattered as you scooped them into the brewer, you slammed Eddie's water glass onto the counter, and by the time you were halfway bent inside the ice maker, taking out your frustrations on frozen water, Benny had enough.

"You need a different weapon to stab that ice kid?" Benny chuckled. You stood straight and faced him with, what you were sure was, a pathetic expression.

"I'm sorry Ben I--"

"You just came back from break," he stated matter-of-factly and crossed his arms over his chest. "What's got you all worked up already? Someone out there harassing you? Need me to kick 'em out?"

"I mean, unless you wanna fire me," you replied tiredly, knowing you were more frustrated with yourself than with Eddie or Nancy.

"Ah," he nodded sagely. "I got it. Yeah, I go 8 rounds with myself sometimes too. Wanna talk?"

Did you want to talk to your boss about silly boy trouble? Trouble that you were trying to work through yourself? Because you were supposed to be getting over your crush on Eddie. You were with Steve...and you just needed to remind yourself of that.

Every time you walked out there and saw them talking. If their heads got too close as he whispered something to her over their homework. On the off chance you looked outside and saw them kissing in the parking lot after they left.

You thought...distance from Eddie would work. But you were friends with practically the same people and he always came into Benny's.

Maybe the answer wasn't trying to push Eddie away? Maybe it was just to get closer to Steve?

You ignored the roiling in your stomach and sighed. Either way this wasn't something Benny could help you with.

"Thanks Ben," you responded weakly. "But it's just...I think I have to work it out myself."

Before Eddie knew it, it was Friday and time for Hellfire.

It was weird now, having Robin know the truth about him and Steve. She was having a hard time adjusting to calling him Steve, knowing he was Eddie. Despite the fact that she had been calling him Steve the whole time.

"I'm just going to call you both Dingus," she reasoned. "That way there's no chance of messing it up."

She actually...had been pretty handy the past few days, trying to find the way for the two of them to switch back. She had checked out a bunch of books from the Hawkins Public Library and brought them to Family Video for them to scour through, had apparently taken to sitting with the Hellfire Club at lunch to prevent Steve from making a fool of himself--fat chance--and grilled both Steve and Eddie on every aspect of one another's lives that might be relevant to their switch. More importantly, the switch back.

"What is selfless love? Is it supposed to be...you doing a selfless act for one another? Because I saw this one test Steve took for you last week. He got a B! And you know he's purposefully having tutoring sessions for you? Must suck for him; he aced O'Donnell's class last year."

She had even been a listening ear after Eddie had found out about Steve's mom, and didn't know the best way to get around to talking to him about it.

It had to be eating Steve up inside...hell, Eddie didn't even like the Harringtons and he felt guilty for not telling Tom that his wife was ruining their family and hurting their son by bribing him to keep it all a secret.

Fuck. Were...were he and Steve friends now?

Eddie normally would have shivered at the thought but...actually it was kind of wholesome...to think that King Steve would slum it with the freaks.

But the line would be drawn if he ever had to admit that Steve was a nice guy. Even if it was the only thing that he had to do to get back into his own body...yeah wasn't happening. Guess he would be Steve Harrington forever.

He was currently waiting at the side entrance to the High School for Steve and the others to get back from picking up snacks for their session.

He actually managed to piece together a semi-decent looking outfit. The last few gigs at the Hideout and Hellfire meetings, he had shown up in Steve's signature polo-and-jeans look. But after digging in a box labeled "donate" at the back of Steve's closet, Eddie found what he was pretty sure was Steve's halloween costume a few years back.

A black t-shirt and some...dark grey blazer that Eddie spent his lunch break adding safety pins too--more punk rock than metal but it would do. Pop those on with some black jeans that he also zhuzh'd up...aka cut holes in...perfect Hellfire look.

He wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb at least. Maybe he could ask Steve to bring him an extra shirt next week.

Eddie's van swerved into the parking lot and as soon as it stopped, the back doors swung open and Gareth jumped out with a whoop.

"Harrington, are you ready for carnage tonight?" he shouted at "Steve" and hauled a case of Mountain Dew over his head. The rest of the Hellfire club filtered out and greeted Eddie before helping unload their purchases.

Steve finally joined them and clapped Eddie on the back.

"Glad you could make it, Harrington," Steve winked and looked down at Eddie's clothes. "Slumming it again? What are you wearing?"

"I don't know, Munson," Eddie ran his hands down the front of the blazer. "Just something from the back of the closet."

"The safety pins are pretty cool," Dustin commented with a wink as he and Mike headed in.

Once the guys were inside, Steve hissed in Eddie's ear.

"What did you do to my jacket?"

"Dude you need to stop trusting your mom to buy your clothes," Eddie laughed. "I'm gonna go cross-eyed with all of the stripes."

"You're one to talk," Steve rolled his eyes. "It's a wonder your knees aren't permanently frostbitten. All of your jeans have rips in them."

Eddie shook his head. Asshole.

"Heard you're getting help in O'Donnells," Eddie remarked.

"News travels pretty fast," Steve kicked his feet, spraying the guys with gravel. "Which of you idiots blabbed. Gare?"

"Yeah he's been making kissy faces," Dave coughed and cleared his throat. "I mean...yeah he's been getting special tutoring sessions."

Kissy faces?

"From Nancy Wheeler!"

Wheeler?

"Mike doesn't know his ass from his elbow but even he knows you're crushing on his sister," Gareth teased, earning a high five from the others.

"Lay off," Steve preened in front of the others. "We've only had two study dates."

"Two days in a row!" Jeff protested. "That's your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend...yet."

Eddie felt dizzy; what was even happening. Steve was...Steve was dating you, why the hell was he talking about Nancy like...like he was gonna ask her out. Why was he trying to get him to date Nancy?

He grabbed Steve's arm as the other guys headed in.

"Are you...kidding me Harrington?" Eddie hissed. "I don't need a girlfriend, I just need to be back in my body. Jesus H. Christ."

"You don't...listen Eddie, you don't understand," Steve sighed.

"I think I do, you're obsessed with Nancy and you know she isn't gonna get back with you as yourself so you're trying to get her back as me." Eddie punctuated his words by jamming his finger into Steve's chest.

"She likes bad boys," Steve explained with a shrug. Eddie scoffed.

"Jonathan Byers isn't a bad boy. I'm not a bad boy. You're gonna make me look like an even bigger laughing stock than I already am."

"Well it's a good thing that I'm still you then, you get to enjoy life on top," Steve held out his arms. "It's a win-win. I get Nancy, you get not to be an absolute loser."

"Well what about your girlfriend?" Eddie asked. "You asked me to keep her warm. She's a good one. Don't scare her away."

"You can break up with her if that's your problem," Steve said dismissively. Eddie let out a noise of disbelief. "What? Isn't that it? You're tired of going on lame dates? Listen, we're no closer to switching back than we have been. Why can't you just...accept the inevitable."

"So you just...give up?" Eddie asked. "Because...I dunno, it just sounded like you want to be stuck as me for the rest of time as long as you can be delusional about Nancy."

Eddie realized that he was being thebiggest hypocrite right now.

He just didn't care.

Every day he made himself sick with worry that you were going to find out and hate him. Guilted himself over the fact that he had to lie and deceive you. Every day simply got harder, and as much as he reveled in your affections...he knew it wasn't right.

Eddie had gotten them both into this mess because he couldn't build up the courage to own up to his feelings for you...and now Steve was doing the same thing. Who's to say that if Steve--if "Eddie"--had a chance with Nancy, they might never be able to undo this spell at all.

"I'm not giving up, I'm just..." Steve ran a hand over his face. "Wouldn't it be easier this way?"

There was a second of silence as Eddie connected the dots.

Maybe he wasn't the only one to blame here either. They were both jealous of each other. Eddie jealous because Steve was dating you. But Steve was jealous...because Eddie lived a supposed carefree life. Right? Wasn't that what Steve had said? And...and did Eddie not just find out how un-carefree Steve's life was?

"I get it now," Eddie muttered. "It isn't...it isn't just about Nancy. It's all of it."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"If you're me...then you don't need to worry about keeping mommy and daddy's marriage happy," Eddie explained. "You don't need to...work with Keith. You don't have to worry about living up to expectations when there are none."

"You talked to my mom?" Steve narrowed his eyes, his tone full of betrayal. "What the hell man?"

"I didn't but thanks for the warning man," Eddie scoffed. "Walked in on her and the mayor practically hanging off one another. Ah look at you, see? You look sick to your stomach. Don't worry, I didn't tell anyone. But I bet it's felt good the last few weeks, not having to think about whether or not your dad is gonna find out. That your perfect life is gonna be ruined."

"My life isn't perfect!" Steve exclaimed.

"Neither is mine! If you didn't notice, it's as far from perfect as you can get. Maybe you've just been oblivious to it so far. A few weeks is nothing compared to 20 years man.

"What's gonna happen when the state pen calls on my birthday because dear old dad wants to chat. Or..or when you go to Rick's house to restock your supply and he's having a really bad day. You know how many times I've talked him out of just...ending it? It used to be easier when my mom was around but...guess what Steve? She's dead too.

"My life isn't easy," Eddie concluded. "Isn't perfect. So don't act like everything's easier just cuz you want to get in Nancy Wheeler's pants."

"You don't fucking know what you're talking about," Steve rumbled. "Nancy...shit she's the only person who I've ever loved. Who has ever loved me. Maybe my parents did a long time ago when I was still young enough to be my dad's little buddy and my mom's dress up doll. But not anymore. But Nancy? Nancy got me. She understood me like no one else did."

"What about your friends? What about Robin?"

"What other friends do I have besides Robin?" Steve asked. "They're all gone. They left. Even before graduation."

"And that's what you want now? You want Nancy and my friends too? To help fill your lonely little life?"

"My life is lonely? Please. You're playing a make believe game and wannabe rockstar twice a week with a bunch of kids. All your real friends left you behind too. And I might not know what my future holds but at least I have a future Munson," Steve huffed. "If this spell bullshit hadn't have happened, it isn't hard to guess where you would end up. Still living in that trailer park 20 years from now, fixing toilets, and fucking your fist because who would ever wanna be with someone like you? Who could ever love yo--"

Steve couldn't finish that sentence because Eddie's fist was rocketing into his face. The force of the punch made him fall to the ground.

Eddie felt empowered, filled with righteous anger and self hatred.

There was nothing worse than being faced with the hopelessness of his life, the pointlessness of his future...until those facts came from his own mouth.

"You're on your own Harrington," Eddie shouted as he turned on his heel and walked back to the BMW, not stopping for a second to look back, even as Steve called after him. "You wanna fix my life? You wanna be Eddie Munson? Be Eddie Munson. You don't need my help. Good fucking luck."

“Well here we are, Honey,” Steve announced as he pulled up to the curb in front of your house. “End of the Line. Home Sweet Home.”

It was the perfect date. Again.

Let the record show that Steve was the best at planning dates.

Honestly sometimes...it just seemed too good to be true.

There had been the night when he stopped by Benny's right before closing, and you had that chat outside. Even though you had an early class the next morning, he lured you out to the line of fast food places near the highway on an impromptu date and created ungodly mash ups with different sandwiches.

Or Thursday, he asked if you wanted to have a movie night and you suggested your place since Starcourt was always so packed. He had brought a ton of treats and extra supplies to build a blanket fort in your living room. He stole a few kisses when your hands met in the popcorn bowl. And you had gotten caught making out in the fort by your mom.

Then today--a Saturday of all days--he'd surprised you.

You’d walked outside, running late for your shift, only to find him parked at the curb, leaning against his car with a huge grin on his face. Told you that he had begged Benny to give you the day off to take you for a surprise.

"I have the day off from Family Video," he explained. "Figured I could use a little day out. Thought I could convince you to tag along."

As if a Saturday off wasn't surprising enough in and of itself.

It was honestly like something out of a John Hughes movie.

He had driven you into Indianapolis to go to some outdoor flea market. Played whatever music you wanted on the drive there and back. Got you all the roasted pecans and sweet confections from the vendors at the edge of the market had to offer. Made you fall for him more and more as he talked shop, laughed, and bartered for vintage records and cool sunglasses and a handful of pinback buttons.

"'Get Stoned?'" You laughed and picked out one rather large button.

"Like the Rolling Stones."

"I get it," you laughed. "Just didn't think you were into them enough to get a button."

"Oh...they're the Stones," Steve shrugged. "But, uh, figured...Eddie might be into it."

You really tried not to wince at the mention of Eddie’s name. You smiled and nodded but it just had you thinking back to Eddie and Nancy at Benny's. You knew you had to stop thinking about it...especially in comparison with Steve, and it was getting increasingly more difficult when Steve was the one who brought him up in the first place. Hell, when you stopped at a little drive-in outside of Marion for dinner, Steve even ordered, what you recognized as, Eddie's usual from Benny's.

It honestly threw you for a loop and made you feel a little crazy.

Just weeks ago you would have thought…well you wouldn’t have considered them similar at all.

And now…

Now you weren’t so sure.

You had spilled your heart out to Steve the other night, told him all the things that you liked about him. And it wasn't until you got home from work after seeing Eddie and Nancy together that you realized...a lot of the things you liked about Steve were also things you liked about Eddie.

Sure, Eddie and Steve were hanging out more after all, so they had to have something in common. Maybe hanging around each other brought out the best in one another. The glimpse of Steve you got after that third date…that genuine sweetness…was now only amplified by Eddie’s genuine personality.

Then you had Eddie…his seemingly endless confidence was more of a defense mechanism. Behind closed doors or with your heads leant together over homework he was more vulnerable. Sweeter. But now the confidence had almost made way for cockiness and indifference...which you really had never associated with Eddie before.

So the way he smile and looked at Nancy, the softness he freely gave--

The way you always wanted him to look and smile at you. The way that still devastated you not to be on the receiving end of.

—you rarely saw him show that soft side of himself so freely.

Even if Nancy had a boyfriend…well, it was a hurtful sight to witness and you truly hoped Eddie wouldn’t be hurt if she turned him down.

Huh. Eddie pining after Nancy and Steve being…just a sweetheart. A sweetheart you were falling for. It’s almost like they traded places or something.

You pondered the thought for a second and couldn’t help but laugh at how silly it all was.

“What’s got you laughing?” Steve’s voice broke through your fantastical thoughts and you shook your head.

“Nothing,” you dismissed. “I’m just…just happy.”

Steve smiled that million dollar smile of his--bright and sparkling--and tucked his head into his shoulder a little before glancing back at you.

“Really?” He questioned.

“Yeah.”

“Cuz you had a good time?”

“Well yeah, I always have a good time with you.” You shuffled in your seat a little, tugged at the seatbelt and scuffed your feet against the floor mat. “You, uh...you wanna come in?"

"Uh, is your mom home?" He chuckled nervously. "I don't want a repeat of last time."

No. That was mortifying.

"She's actually out with some coworkers. They got some big contract. Some international account blah," you waved your hand dismissively. "Kinda boring but she doesn't get to go out too much. I dunno.

"But uh...if you did want to come in...we could avoid a play by play. If you catch my drift?" You raised your eyebrows seductively and you thought you made the right reference--he was a sports guy after all. But he just looked like a deer in the headlights.

That was just the natural progression of dating right?

You kiss a little or a lot...and then you make out on your couch...and then...so why did he look shocked. You didn't wanna push him...but he was also Steve Harrington. You honestly thought he would have made a move by now.

Some wicked voice in the back of your head piped up.

Maybe the problem wasn't Steve; maybe you were the problem...

"It's ok if you don't want to," you backtracked, suddenly self-conscious. "Because I know you...you probably work tomorrow or something."

"No!" he shouted, the volume of it a little shocking thanks to the close proximity in the car. "Yes that's...no I...we can go in."

You held back a sigh of relief and smiled shakily.

The walk inside was unremarkable, but every second that passed was filled with more anticipation than the one before. Steve teased you for fumbling with your keys, enough that you dropped them, and he gave your butt a little pat. You grabbed him around the middle and waddled him back from your mother's steam-cleaned carpets so he could kick off his shoes, all the while running your hands over his toned chest. You asked him if he wanted something to drink, like a good hostess would, and he simply quirked a brow and said there was only one thing that could quench his thirst.

But before long it was all just a vague blur because he pushed you up against the wall in the front room and eagerly fused his lips to yours.

Steve was always a little noisy, always humming, but his noises became needier the longer you went. His hands gripped your waist and he thumbed the softness there consistently, as though he needed to prove to himself that you were truly safe within his grasp.

He swallowed the giggles that softly escaped you when his fingers found just the right spot.

"Ticklish?" he broke away and pulled just far enough back to grin through those kiss-swollen lips. You whined impatiently in response. "I think I found my lady's weakness...it's ok. Your secret is safe with me."

A voice echoed in your head, soft and sweet. My lady. Gravelly with sleep in the morning before class, accompanied by a bow, as you passed by Hellfire Club on the way to homeroom

No, no, no. Not again. You were here with Steve. Steve. Not Eddie.

"Mmmh, and what about you?" you muttered petulantly, pushing the thought away. He surged forward for another peck but you kept your hand firm on his chest to hold him back. "Isn't it fair I learn your weakness too?"

"I've gotta have some secrets don't I?" He pulled one of your hands away and pressed feather light kisses to each of your fingers, then the back of your hand.

An image was summoned in your mind's eye, the feeling of lips on your hand as you practiced some sort of Shakespearean reenactment for English class.

Eddie needed to get out of your head. Out of your heart.

You batted Steve's hand away, grabbed his face and mashed your lips to his urgently.

There was a build of anticipation; it was frenzied but it didn't feel rushed. Now that you two had a moment alone--truly alone to explore one another without a nosy neighbor or a potentially wandering police officer or a well-intended parent--it was clear that you both wanted this and wanted to savor every minute of it. Memorize every dip, every curve, every plane. Paint the taste of one another on the canvas of each other's tongues.

He tasted like...

Cherry Pie and Cigarettes and Juicy Fruit Gum.

But he didn't chew Juicy fruit. But he did. But he didn't. Steve didn't. Eddie did.

Steve chewed Big Red. He told you so on your first date when you asked for a stick after the bitter taste of coffee lingered in your mouth.

"I only chew Big Red, is that ok?"

But he had chewed gum in the car after you left the diner. He had his pie, he smoked really quick--a habit you vaguely remembered him saying he was quitting--and he had offered you a piece of Juicy Fruit as he turned the key in the ignition.

You compared Eddie and Steve in the car before, chalked it up to them being friends. But now here he was again and it was driving you crazy. You just wanted to fall for Steve in peace. And you were, you really were, but you were also getting sick of Eddie popping up at the most inopportune times.

You pushed Steve away from you and panted heavily.

"You wanna go to my room?" you asked abruptly. Your eyebrows shot upwards expectantly as Steve stared at you with big, dumb eyes and a shocked expression.

"Yes," he nodded eagerly. "Uh, yeah...yes."

Eddie didn’t know how to feel being in your room.

On the one hand…he doubted whether he should really be here. This was everything he had just condemned Steve for. On the other…it really had been the perfect day with you. You quieted the doubt in his mind. All of Steve’s cutting words about…being alone and never knowing love…they didn’t matter when you held his hand and looked him in the eyes and kissed him.

All of the sweet things you said to him the other night flooded his mind and made him feel like he was underwater. Submerged in your love.

If he closed his eyes and imagined the world was perfect, it did feel like love. He could convince himself that you loved him too.

The minute your bedroom door was closed behind him, you had grabbed Eddie and pushed him onto your bed. The plush comforter cushioned his fall and your pillows had all bounced around him and he chuckled.

He craned his neck to get a look around your room—white walls decorated with some posters and cutouts from magazines here and there, a small desk, a bookshelf that was so full it was more book than shelf. He’d learned so much about you the past few weeks, more than he had over the past few years of knowing you, but this…aside from the fact that you had crawled onto his lap and we’re nipping at his neck…this was the most intimate he would ever get to know you. Not your body. But your soul, your mind, your light.

If this was his last glimpse of you he ever got in his life, he would die happily. He didn’t need to pretend things were perfect to acknowledge that he was in love with you. It was a fact of his existence at this point. And he needed to show you.

“H-honey?” He asked softly. “Stop.”

“You don’t like this?” You laved at the point where his jaw met his neck before sucking a bruising kiss there. His nerves were alight at the sensation and blood rushed south.

“Where did you learn to do that? Hmm?” He asked teasingly as his hand gripped your waist. You pulled back and grinned like the cat that got the cream. “Oh? You’ve got secrets? Well I’ve got a secret too.”

Something akin to worry flashed behind your eyes and he reached up to caress the side of your face.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured. “It’s not bad. Let me show you.”

Eddie pulled your mouth back to his and you fell into him, obviously enjoying the soft attentions of his kiss. From there he eased you onto your back, happy to hover over you and press his body into yours. He grinned as you made a needy little noise.

More? He could give you more; he was planning on it. More importantly, you were eager to have him take.

You were soft and pliant against him, malleable, as his mouth traveled from yours, down your neck, and further down still. His hands antecedent of his descent, they prepared you for what was to come, gave you every opportunity to push him away, though you never would. He grasped your wrists and pressed them to the soft mattress above your head, rucked up your shirt so he could attend to your breasts.

Fingers deftly peeled away the cups of your bra and as he suckled and venerated, he found that the little strumming motion he liked to do when he played with himself was also one that made you whine deliciously; calloused pads oscillating over supple fullness and hardened peaks.

Eddie abandoned his paltry devotions to continue onwards. He knelt back and quickly began removing your skirt and underwear, cute little things that would serve no purpose if you were to let him proceed.

“Is this ok Honey? You can tell me to stop,” he assured you. You bit your lip and your bliss-filled face became bashful, but you shook your head anyway. “No? You want me to stop?”

“Don’t stop,” you replied breathily. “Please.”

“I won’t. I’ll give you whatever you want. I promise.”

He ushered you to scoot further up the bed so your head could be cradled by the plush pillows. He couldn’t resist dropping another kiss or two to your lips, to sooth the sting that your teeth were inflicting. Your little needy noises were cute, but you were holding back and he simply couldn’t let that happen.

“I want to hear you,” he muttered, running his thumb over your lips. “It’s just us. No one will hear. I need to know if I’m doing something you don’t like. Or something you really like. Then I know to do it again next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah…this isn’t some quick romp at a party or outside a concert, sweetheart. I want to make you feel good again.” He pressed a kiss to your lips for emphasis. “And again.” Another kiss to your breast. “And again.” One last kiss against your stomach before he settled himself in the cradle of your thighs, hissing the slightest bit as his hips came in contact with your mattress.

He was throbbing, aching for his own pleasure, eager for a release that he’d been ignoring and denying himself. He shifted and found a little friction, the mattress and his jeans doing just enough to sate him while he took care of another hunger.

Never let it be said that Eddie hadn’t met a pussy that he didn’t think was pretty but you—open for him and wanting--were gorgeous. Tempting. Eddie clicked his tongue as he finally got a good look at you, fluttering with want, dripping with ambrosia.

“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted more?” He admonished with a smirk, looking up at you with hooded eyes as he settled your leg over his shoulder, nestling in for an extended, more comfortable time. “I wouldn’t have made you wait so long.”

“I didn’t…I…” Your excuse was cut off by your combined moans as he latched onto you, immediately finding the swollen button at the top of your sex. He laved back and forth, teasing you until you whined. The taste of you, the smell of you—the earthy sweetness that bloomed on his tongue and settled at the base of his throat—caused his hips to jerk against the bed and he pulled back a little, eager but ready to let you feel good for as long as he could. He rotated his attention between your clit and your lips and your neglected little hole, kissed and nuzzled and lapped up whatever slick you gifted him.

Eddie moved his hand from where it was caressing your thigh so he could ramp up the fun. You jumped as he caressed your lips, played with the spit and slick.

“Do you touch yourself honey?” You covered your face. “Didn’t I just tell you that I wanted to hear you? So tell me, do you touch yourself?”

“Yes,” you threw your hands down and grasped the plush comforter.

“Do you think of me?” You nodded. “I can’t hear you. Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to touch you? Do you want more?” He blew a soft breath across your thigh and you shivered.

“P-please, more.”

Eddie slid his fingers over you, watched as you shuddered and twitched, basked in your wanton little noises. With his other hand, he shifted slightly and undid his belt and the fly of his jeans, pushing them down just so, so he could rock against the bed, seeking more physical relief. He dove back in with kisses and licks and nips, getting adventurous as he slid a finger into you. You stiffened up for just a moment before he took you to higher heights.

"Uuhnnnhhh, yes," you moaned breathily. Beautifully. "Right there. Yes!"

The tightness was luxurious and his head spun, imagining what the rest of the night might bring. He could feel you panting, getting closer and closer to your peak. He would get you there. Gladly. Again and again. Over and over until you couldn’t take any more.

“Please!”

“What do you want, honey?”

“Please I’ve—“

“You wanna cum sweetheart.” He grinned against you. “I’ll get you there but you have to beg. Come on.”

"P-please S-Steve!"

Eddie froze.

His ears started ringing. His entire body was numb. He couldn’t…couldn’t breathe. It all came flooding back, the realization, the hatred, the resentment. The want to be with you and the fact that he couldn't.

"W-what's wrong?!" you stammered and pushed yourself onto your elbows to get a better view of him. "What happened?"

Eddie couldn't answer. He could barely look at you.

He pushed your leg off his shoulder, and as he did he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror beside the bed—

The freckled skin, the fluffy hair, the rumpled polo, the hazel eyes staring back at him smugly.

--he couldn't even look at himself.

“Please, talk to me. What happened? Did I do something wrong?"

"I just...I..." he choked at the sound of his voice. But not his voice.

He shook his head and pushed himself off the bed. He ran a hand over his face and ignored the questions that came out of you. He quickly yanked up his jeans and barely fastened them. He ignored the belt.

He quickly turned on his heel and ran out of your room. He jammed his feet into his shoes and fumbled with the jacket he had hung on the coat hook by the door to get his keys.

Not his keys.

Steve’s keys. Steve’s car, Steve’s body, Steve’s life, Steve’s love.

Not his.

He let the jacket fall to the floor, abandoned, as he quickly made his escape.

All the while you called and ran after him.

"Steve?! Wait! Steve!!"

Tag List is currently suspended.

Freaky Friday Chapter 5 will be uploaded by Sunday, May 21st at 7pm CST.

#freaky friday au #Eddie Munson x reader #Steve Harrington x reader #Eddie Munson angst #Eddie Munson smut #Steve Harrington angst #Eddie Munson fluff #Steve Harrington fluff #stranger things fic #eddie munson headcanons

286 notes · View notes

lunawings · 1 month

Text

While I was in Japan during March 2024, I was able to visit the Pretty Rhythm Rainbow Live 10th Anniversary Exhibit. This is my favorite anime of all time, so it was an incredible honor.

Unfortunately, you could not take pictures in many areas and I always try my best to be respectful and follow the rules. So, I will describe it.

The walls of the first room were covered in several tapestries depicting each individual episode of the anime, so you could reminisce about everything that happened as you slowly walked through the room. In the middle of the room, there were several exhibits perfectly recreating every single paper, notebook, sketch...

Hokkaido itinerary? Wakana and Bell's test scores? Momo's Happy Rain costume sketches? Naru and Bell's manager applications? The score to pride? Any piece of paper you can think of that appeared in PRRL, it was all HERE! Recreated with meticulous accuracy...

The next room was the photo room where you could take pictures in Prism Stone or in front of Rinne's feathers.

Something else they had here which was really neat, was all of these mini photo ops of various scenes from the anime that you could put your plushies or figures into! As I rarely have someone with me to take photos of myself at events like this, and I rarely post them even when I do, NGL I loved it. I wish I had brought something! I did have a PAF Naru on my bag I could have used, but it would have taken time to unpin her so unfortunetly I did not.

The next room contained an exhibit of various merch from throughout the years.

Unfortunately, there wasn't really much merch to look at in the classic section. Just the guitars, some stones, and the Smart Pod Shot. But I definitely think there was more than that back in the day! There has to have been because I own at least one thing that was not in here (a pool bag) haha!

They also had a REAL prism guitar on display, which apparently they are actually going to sell at some point!?

The last part of the exhibit before going to the gift shop, was a hallway with messages from all the voice actresses and the director. This was also a zone where photos were banned, but I remember in the director's he acknowledged Rainbow Live as being the only Pretty Rhythm season to achieve a 10th anniversary celebration and ended his commentary with "Glorious Pretty Rhythm" hahaha. Next was the gift shop...

Which was honestly super disappointing... I was prepared to spend a lot of money here, but in the end, I barely bought anything. Everything, EVERYTHING good was blind and the stuff that wasn't was just so expensive.

Like, they had this set of Hiro cards with his magazine covers and debut poster and I really wanted them but when I actually saw them it was like... 2,000 yen? FOR THREE CARDS!? Those tiny little cards you can see up there below the keychains?

????????????

Am I missing something!?

In the end I bought two Wakana boards and two clear files. And the one blind thing I couldn't resist was the Prism Stone badges... which turned out to be Otoha x2 and one Ann. Gah.

I also might have bought a Wakana plush doll, but she was sold out. Out of all the Rainbow Live girls she was the only one sold out both here and at Tokyo Station Prism Stone.

And here were the bonuses I got. Including, yes, the AiPri card. So for people who saw me posting it over on @pretty-idol-hell, this was where it came from.

I also got a very special letter, which I am saving to translate at a later date...

Outside the event was an up and running Pretty Rhythm machine, or so I thought. Wow, no line! I said to myself as I happily bounced up to it only to find the coin slot taped over and a sign reading it could not be used. Darn. (I know there's no prism stones left in the wild, but come on, there's no free play mode...? Well, I guess even if there was they wouldn't want people loitering around the exhibition.)

Anyway, as you read I did have a few complaints, but it still makes my heart happy that this event existed at all. I loved all the time and effort that went into making all the recreations of things!

#pretty rhythm #prrl #pretty rhythm rainbow live

59 notes · View notes

theresattrpgforthat · 1 month

Note

Hi! I'm on a regency binge at the moment and while Good Society is on my list, do you have any more regency games/systems to recommend?

THEME: Regency Games

Hello friend, I think I have a nice little selection for you to take a look at!

One thing to note is that some of these games are very gendered, providing roles such as “Matron”, “Nobleman” or “Countess” that is rather unavoidable. Sometimes this is simply part and parcel of playing in a specific era of history, and sometimes it is done purposefully, as games can often be commentary about certain issues that were prevalent at the time.

While I think you could likely make a non-binary character in these games if you really want to, I think that one of the appeals of playing in the Regency era is the strict social structures that created such rigid gender boundaries, and so I’m not surprised to see those boundaries enforced in these games.

Vicious, by Budget Versailles.

Vicious is a game set during the Regency period about scandalous gossip told via letters between three or more players.

Players roll dice to generate scenarios and gossipy twists to pass on to the next player until everyone has been deceived with shocking slander and hearsay.

If you’re a fan of the epistolary phase of Good Society, Vicious is probably worth looking at. Watch a piece of news twist out of your control as your letters get flavoured with gossip. You can roll for inspiration for various scenarios, as well as for juicy gossip to make those scenarios even better - but the game ends with one player sends out an invitation to determine how many of the accusations that have been sent around are true.

I think Vicious is also an excellent add-on to pair with another game of your choice, especially since it could be played in between sessions, cooking up drama for the players to hash out in an in-person confrontation.

Hazelwood Abbey, by stevehatherly.

Downton Abbey meets Hillfolk. Players play an aristocratic family in a player-led dramatic game of emotional needs and wants for 4-5 players.

Hazelwood Abbey uses Pelgrane Press' DramaSystem rules engine to create a story of high-stakes interpersonal conflict. During the session, you will create family members with conflicting needs and goals. And then you will find out what happens.

To play this game you’ll need a good understanding of how the DramaSystem works. The author recommends referencing a copy of Hillfolk, although you can also check out the SRD for free to see how you feel about the system.

The DramaSystem is all about relationships, and give and take. Your characters all need something from each-other, something tied to an emotional reward. When interacting with each-other in a dramatic scene, tokens will be gained or spent by following prompts specific to your playbook. In Hazelwood Abbey, your characters are split between the upstairs and downstairs, just like in Downton Abbey. The upstairs playbooks will wrestle with ties to family, tradition, and duty, while the downstairs playbooks commonly struggle with ambition, social inequality, and precious secrets. If you deny another person what they seek, too many times, they may force an emotional concession from you by spending tokens.

I think this is a great example of dramatic tension, and while I suppose Hazelwood Abbey might be slightly later than regency era, it might give you some of what you’re looking for.

Sense and Sensibility, by Armanda.

YOU ARE A DEAD GUY’S SECOND FAMILY IN 18th CENTURY ENGLAND. Your mission is to get one of your sisters to marry well, since you’re all women and can’t live without the favor of a man. You have no rights other than the right to marry and be a mother. In this game, you’ll explore the terrible vicissitudes of British bucolic countryside life and deal with neighbours and city people coming to visit the various families in the area, where gossip and marriage (and love, in the best of cases) are the order of the day.

Since this game is built off of Lasers and Feelings, I’d expect it to also be fairly easy to pick up if you’re familiar with other works in the same system. You have two stats and a number somewhere between 2 to 5 that tells you how good you are at one of those things, and how bad you are at the other.

I think this game is more focused on family relationships than some of the other games on this list, because your entire family’s well-being depends on the success of finding a wealthy match. Battle gossip, defend your honour, and possibly even sabotage your rivals in an attempt to find some security for yourself and your loved ones.

The Season, by Rue.

It's London season and you're in for a ball!

The Season is a GM-less RPG about elevating your status and keeping up your reputation during the fabled Regency Era social season.

This is a competitive RPG that takes place over the course of 10 rounds. Each characters’ goal is the same: to end the game with the highest Reputation. To chip away at your rivals’ reputation, you’ll have to demonstrate your own social graces, spread rumours, or meet gossip with the perfect amount of composure. You just need 2d6 to play, although you’ll probably want a few roll-tables for inspiration if you don’t consider yourself that good at improv.

This is another game that might benefit from being played alongside something bigger, or perhaps using some established lore from another setting.

Teacup Masquerade, by Sam Scribbler.

A one-page cozy social game about getting revenge on your enemies. Inspired by Regency-era romantic dramas such as Bridgerton with a vengeful twist. Create a character, discover your rival's secret, and become the darling of high society.

This is a simple game meant to fit on one page. You have three basic stats, and a gradient scale of success. You gain a random social advantage and a random personal shame, which you’ll want to try to hide as you go about discovering the secrets of your rivals.

There’s not a lot of guidance for this one, which is pretty common for one-page games. It might be a good fit if you have an idea of the kind of story you want to tell, or if you have your own set of home-brew rules that you want to add onto an existing premise.

The Social Season, by Scott Sexton.

In this single page role playing game inspired by the works of Jane Austen, you and your friends play as high society characters navigating the treacherous London social season.

To save your family from ruin, you must land an advantageous marriage proposal by the end of the season. Will you outwit scheming rivals and jealous suitors to make a fortuitous match, or will you become embroiled in scandal and depart London in disgrace?

This is a Honey Heist hack, pulling you between the two extremes of Composure and Scandal. Since it’s built off of a familiar system (to me), I can expect this game to be rather light-hearted, pushing your characters to vacillate between following social graces or deliberately doing something considered… untoward. This is certainly a chance to put on your stuffiest airs, flutter your fans dramatically, and describe your attempt to kiss your beau on the back of their hand.

The London Season, by Stéphanie Dusablon.

The London season of 1874, a perfect time for the aristocracy to advance the marriage prospects of their offsprings, entertain themselves through various social engagements and, naturally, gossip to their heart's content.

We were also taught that once we attained marital bliss, our husband would take ownership of our wealth, property and body. They probably would have passed a law to ensure our mind became theirs as well, had it occured to them that we might actually have one.

Create your young lady, decide if you hope to secure or avoid an engagement this season and carefully navigate 8 fortnights of glamorous events, social engagements and secret messages.

As a solo roleplaying game, The London Season is an examination of the social inequities present in the Regency era, as well as a love letter for a time of secret messages and glamorous events. You’ll mostly be drawing cards to answer questions, receive secret messages, and navigate both welcome and unwelcome engagements, journaling each step of the way. At the end of eight fortnights, your young lady will have either achieved or lost her goal. Whether that goal is marriage or something else is up to you.

Games I’ve Recommended In The Past

Le Bon Ton, by RobotFrancis.

Pride and Extreme Prejudice, by Grant Howitt.

Eyes on the Prize, by ira prince.

#tabletop games #game recommendations #indie ttrpgs #dnd #asks #indie ttrpg #regency

54 notes · View notes

icewindandboringhorror · 11 days

Text

Misc. photos from the past year or so ~

#image commentary in tags once again since they don't allow captions anymore and I feel weird using the alt text for that --#1. napping bapy boye sneeping on his own foot as if it were a pillow #2. The little primrose that I have seems to bloom sporadically all year around as long as I bring it inside and don't let it freeze #in the winter. This was a flower that came up randomly like mid november lol #3. Rainbow where you can see a little bit of a second rainbow near the bottom of it :0 #4. CHILDREN.... love to see them.....#5. Halloween Candy ranking tierlist. not important enough to post on it's own. so throwing it in with one of these I guess lol #I am also not really a candy person at all and prefer bready stuff like cakes rather than chocolate bars (if I even have to have sweets #at ALL which usually I prefer savory food). I suspect the apple is controversial but.. I do love apples .... huzzah #actually am having applle and peanut butter snack right now as I'm writing this lol #6. Various bowls/cups/etc. that I got from a store at COMPLETELY different times like.. years apart from each other #yet at some point realized that they all mostly match in paint color and seem to be part of the same pattern #But I totally didnt make that connection until a few years ago when I was putting up dishes. I just bought them all invidually because it's #like 'oh cool! a cat' *1 year later* 'oh cool! a cat!' etc. lol.. I guess it must be a popular design if it's been around being sold that #long.#7. carne asada burrito and matcha bubble tea... oughhgh.... again one of my very rare meals where I actually go and get something..#probably my favorite meal currently. Something about the Chronic Anemia makes me crave beef burritos madly despite only having one #maybe twice a year or so ghjbhj.. plus the beans.... onions.... many of my Diet Forbidden foods... Also of course the little aishas #are there.... somehow they shall split the meal together even though it's like 10x bigger than their bodies.. they are also hungry #and vastly anemic... huzzah to them...#8. I've had this shirt for a long time but it fits very weird so I can never find a way to use it in outfits?? But I recently had #an appointment where a doctor needed to be able to look at my back and it's one of the only actual Shirts that I have (mostly i just own #long robes or tunics or jumper dress type of things that would be hard to lift up or etc. like... I dont even own a single normal 't-shirt'#or anyting aside from one giant tshirt that I sleep in in the summer lol.) So I wore this there.. I forget how much I love the pictures on #it.. how pleasant... little hummingbird... AND I think one of the flowers is supposed to be columbine ... !#photo diary

6 notes · View notes

waitmyturtles · 3 months

Text

I was supposed to finally have a quiet moment this week, my first of 2024, to catch up on all the dramas I’m behind on, but alas — real life has gotten in the way, and it’ll still be a little bit before I have time to write big meta again. I’m way behind on thoughts for last week’s episodes of Playboyy, Last Twilight, and Cherry Magic Thailand, but I do very much want to write about them, so some quick notes on these three as follows:

1) I owe @poetry-protest-pornography and @chaos0pikachu my thoughts on camp and Playboyy. I intended to pen this post last week after last week’s episode, but said life (ha) has gotten in the way. Friends, please note that I still SO want to write this, because I think deconstructing why camp as a style works in art will be a wonderful conversation, regardless of the narrative success (or not) of Playboyy.

So, speaking of the narrative success of Playboyy — and the upcoming debate (maybe?) about a balance of style and storytelling in dramas, I watched last week’s episode of Playboyy with this post about The Sign in mind, because I think this post gets at a thing that I want to write more about re: Playboyy, which is, like — what makes a story/narrative contextually coherent, and what responsibilities do the artists behind a show have to viewers to make a story coherent?

I think one thing we were coming to in the conversation on camp at the end of last year was whether or not Playboyy could be considered a good, a successful, or maybe even a complete story by way of its various elements. At least for now, leaving camp aside, I still don’t think this show is working narratively at all. That Captain/Keen storyline had my head spinning — uh, your coach gave you one difficult practice, and you revenge on him by filming a sex tape without consent? How…..did we get there? Porsche now has feelings for Jump? I’m still not grabbing the whole Aob/Puen feelings debacle? The Nant/Nuth storyline has gotten momentum, but not enough to fill the majority of an episode, which is a shame, because it’s the only storyline element giving this show any context at the moment. And as @lurkingshan noted, the only real compelling moment in this episode was between Teena and Zouey about how they’d transcend reality to love better versions of each other. It was lovely to watch! But I’m still not sure why we’re watching all of these storylines and if, ever, they’ll come together in a coherent arc.

So, yeah man. I was so intrigued by the premise of this show. It ain’t workin’. I’ll have more to think on this regarding style. But the stories aren’t coming together — and I TRULY think that’s a shame, considering the important themes of the show.

2) From the little ability I had to poke around Tumblr last week after the last Last Twilight episode, I think (I think!) a general feeling was that the episode wasn’t as depth-y as it could have been for the MANY heavy moments of parental interventions that took place. I believe that’s right. I think there were too many gaps in the contextual flow of the show that left Day’s mom looking more like an enemy (like, even on Pran’s mom’s level) that could have been addressed with a touch more context coming from her.

Let me explain. When I see single moms in Aof Noppharnach shows, I first go to He’s Coming To Me. HCTM has the best BL mom ever — a single mom absolutely ready to embrace her son as he’s coming out.

We know Aof loves depicting moms; he wrote as much about it last year after Moonlight Chicken aired. He’s got some legendary moms — of course, Pran’s mom; Tian’s controlling mom (who I posit is actually a front for patriarchy in A Tale of Thousand Stars); Pat’s passive mom, who is actually way more down with reality than Pat’s dad; Kao’s mom that Kao is so fearful of by way of disappointment. (Special shout-out to Pete’s dad in Dark Blue Kiss as the best BL dad.)

In other words, we know Aof has the goods when it comes to commentary on parenting. We know from episode 9 that Day’s mom (Mhon) went through tremendous hardship to raise her boys, including begging for food. She’s a famous and successful chef by the time we meet her, a workaholic. She’s a single mom, a working single mom, and Porjai is about to be on the same cusp. Night happens to be the bridge to those two.

Mhon’s willingness to keep Day in his room….her ignoring Night to start the Christmas dinner. The taking away of Day’s phone, oof. Saying that Mhok crossed a line — all while she was aware that Day previously had a crush on August. These small points create quite the enemy storyline on Mhon.

This is unfortunate, because I actually felt, watching the episode, that there was a lot about Asian parenting that was being left on the table. Valuing work and the safety of one’s kids OVER their happiness is quite the social phenomenon in Asian parenting. A good bit of Day’s mom’s actions could actually be seen as appropriate by certain-minded parents in Asia.

Yet, to have Day’s mom then ignore Night during the dinner, to have Day’s mom take Day’s phone away without explaining why he can��t be in a relationship — even for an Asian viewer like myself, well used to a particular amount of conditional brutality in Asian parenting — those storytelling decisions seemed a little harsh without more context as to how Day’s mom was driven to be the way she is now.

We had plenty of context into Dissaya in episode 10 of Bad Buddy. That moment opened doors for us to get what the hell was going on. I would love to have a similar contextual moment for Mhon, words by her about her story, that tell us how she got to where she is by way of raising her boys and becoming successful. Despite her behavior to her sons — we know she worked damn hard to provide for them. A badass lies within, and I know a successful Aof show would show us that. I hope we get it.

3) Cherry Magic Thailand, episode 5! I LOVE what’s happening with Rock/Min against the Rokkaku/Minato storyline — I love this expansion, and how Rock is less clueless and much more emotionally vulnerable than Rokkaku. I love feisty Pai. I LOVE Junior’s Jinta! I have to continue covering my mouth as I cackle.

As compared to Adachi at this point in the storyline — I wonder if CMT is offering Achi a bit more of the clueless hand than he deserves. I love the embellishments to the jealousy storyline between Karan and Kurosawa — Achi and Rock pushing off in the boat alone was particularly poignant — but Achi is well aware of Karan’s heart now, and I’m a little surprised that he seems a dash clueless that his interactions with others would make Karan jealous.

This is a minor quibble, though. Achi and Adachi are two dudes unfamiliar with love. But I wonder slightly if this vibe I’m feeling is perhaps a result of the original Cherry Magic Japan story being literally doubled in time in Thailand.

Again — MINOR quibble. This show is a refreshing delight. And I LOVE LOVE LOVE the next part of the storyline. I love that they found a similar place in Thailand to shoot Karan’s drunk flashback scene as Kurosawa’s in Japan. Will Achi offer us Thailand’s version of a classic JBL run? I sure damn hope so!

That’s it! I think I’ll be able to catch up on all of this week’s shows in real time, bless up!

54 notes · View notes

worstqueerbaittournament · 11 months

Text

Before you complain about the picture: I asked people to send in better pictures of Grif and Simmons and NOBODY DID

Submission message for Janis: Mean Girls - Janis + Person who submitted Janis here. Yes, I meant the movie. The whole time it is implied she's a lesbian only for her to end up with a dude lol

Submission message for Grif and Simmons: Hi! I’m submitting Grif and Simmons from Red vs. Blue. I think they’re the worst personally because I’ve spent a third of my life being queerbaited by someone’s fucking halo ocs.

Additional propaganda: Meanwhile Janis from Mean Girls IS queerbaiting:

She’s presented as a lesbian throughout the film

She gets very emotionally attached to girls and tries to sabotage them after they ‘betray’ her and become more interested in boys/popularity (Regina in the past, Cady during the film)

Proudly declares herself a “big lesbo” to half the school during her trust-fall scene

Wears a suit to Prom and kisses her gay best friend Damien, they both show complete disgust afterwards

But in the LITERAL LAST SCENE OF THE FILM, she’s shown dating a guy and kissing him.

((I also haven’t seen the musical yet, so I can’t comment there))

Vote Janis, she’s the only right answer.

this ain't enough information about Grif and Simmons; these two are literally the intro character for the entire series. The first conversation they had became a running joke and repeating theme to the point that, years later, it was used in a dramatic moment so Grif could identify Simmons while fight an evil look-alike. When one of them got injured, the other donated various body parts, including skin and organs, and then became a cyborg, thus having the metaphor of "becoming part of each other" and "you have my heart". They still bicker constantly and and trade insults. They've been glued at the hip for more than a decade. The one time they were split up, it was treated like a devastating divorce, with one of them using the line "I quit you". They then both proceeded to have mutual pining and emotional withdrawl from being apart because they're just THAT codependent. They've been forced to share living space, and immediately devolved into having old-married-couple situations. During a planet-wide sex party, they fooled around in a closet, everybody knows this happened, but they refuse to fully acknowledge it. The VA for Grif even plainly stated that "Grif is in love with Simmons". Simmons once mentioned that he and Grif carved their initials into a tree. When we see the "inner worlds" of their minds, Grif's is almost empty except for a tiny Simmons that runs around to annoy him, and Simmons imagines a Grif that has to do whatever he says, but STILL insults him because Grif can't stop being Grif.They had a talk show together and even called themselves their ship-name "Grimmons". They've been having one long conversation for 2 decades. They're slow-burning like a tire fire. They're married, but they'll never properly get together. IT'S BEEN 2 DECADES

Let's not forget Tucker's actually-in-the-show commentary when he's spying on them over the radio of "I've only been listening to them for five minutes but I can tell they're really in love. Why can't they see it?”

It's literally been two decades.

#janis #janis mean girls #mean girls #simmons x grif #red vs blue #tournament

208 notes · View notes

the1975attheirverybest · 5 months

Text

BEING FUNNY IN A FOREIGN LANGUAGE

Warnings: smut, pretentious SATVB commentary, also SATVB spoilers.

read all other chapters here

Chapter 2– “I’m in love with you- I -I - I -I-“

As Amelia rounded the corner, peeking through the glass windows of the hotel lobby, she spotted a familiar head of hair and reflexively smiled to herself. She’d know these curls anywhere.

“Hey, you,” she called out to him as she walked in, Matty’s head turning around at the sound of her voice. “What’re you doing, awake, and…” she scanned his table, noticing the drink in front of him, “drinking — alone, apparently, at this hour?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” He shrugged, eyeing her from head to toe. “What about you? You look like you had a fun night.”

Amelia smiled, recalling tonight’s activities with a flutter in her stomach, “Yeah, I was out with-”

“Your boy-toy?” Matty’s tone was unintentionally critical.

She chuckled, throwing herself into the chair next to him. “He’s…not my boy-toy.” Her objection was weak and more amused than defensive.

“Well, whatever he is, he’s not a gentleman. What, he let you go home, alone, on your own, at 2 in the morning?” Matty scuffed, as if waving him off. “you want me to buy you a drink, by the way?”

“No, it’s okay, I’d rather share yours.” she reached for his glass, taking a sip. “For your information, he invited me to stay the night. Insisted, even. But I didn’t want to.”

“Is that right?”

“Staying over after sex….it just feels serious. This is not meant to be serious.”

“My, my, my!” Matty gestured dramatically, “How the tides have turned.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“I’ve taught you well.” He giggled despite himself. “Mousy, inexperienced Amelia is all grown up now.” He placed a hand on his heart, faking sentimentalism. “I could burst with pride.” He was bursting with something else.

She rolled her eyes, holding back a smile, “piss off.”

When Matty stretched his hand out to reclaim his drink from her, Amelia noticed the notepad, with various scraps of paper sticking out of it, that had been tucked underneath his forearms.

“What’s all this?” she pulled the notepad towards her side of the table.

“Oh, it’s not much. just been trying to write a new bit for the show.”

“Oh?”

“So, part of the plan for this tour is,” he took a big swig of his drink, “that I’d sort of- like- add or tweak it every now and then. You know, to keep things fresh and unexpected.”

She nodded along as he spoke, recalling a conversation they’d had when he first started planning the show. He’d talked about how important it was for him that the show be responding to the audience in real time. A way to get around the repetitiveness of the performance, and the idea of people seeing it online.

“And? What’d you come up with?” She flipped through the pages, reading his scribbles.

“Nothing. I can’t seem to come up with anything.

Brain feels…..both full and empty at the same time.”

She heard the tone of defeat in his voice and looked up at him, not saying anything. He offered her the remainder of his drink, which she accepted.

Matty watched her read his unfinished drafts and fragmented sentences. The words felt heavy in his mouth. He wanted to say them. To free himself. To finally let her know. His lips parted, ‘just say it,’he thought to himself. No words came out. ‘Just fuckin say it. Just tell her.’ He waited a moment, hoping the urge to confess would pass, but it didn’t. He needs to just get it over with. Worry about the consequences later. He’s a grown adult. He’s going to tell her how he feels.

“Amelia-“

“Do you have any cigarettes left on you? I’m in the mood for a smoke.” She didn’t seem to notice that she’d cut him off.

“Oh.” He uttered. The sinking feeling overwhelmed him.

“Well? Do you?”

“Do- I…what?”

“Have any cigs left? Matty, are you listening?” She blinked rapidly.

“Oh- oh, yeah. I do. I do have some left.” He struggled to come back to his body for a moment. Slowly, his hands felt around his pockets. “You wanna go outside for a smoke?” He eventually rose to his feet. “C’mon, let’s go.”

****

“So,” Matty looked at her as she blew the smoke into the cold air of the night. “You and your….boy-toy-“

“Joshua.”

“His name is Joshua?” A smirk twitched on his lips. “That’s a slutty name.”

She giggled, amused. “What the fuck’s a slutty name?”

“Joshua!”

“No, like, how can a name be slutty?” She threw her cigarette bud to the ground and stepped on it with the heel of her shoe. “Cold.” She mumbled. “Can I have a cuddle?”

Matty did not hesitate to throw his arm around her and pull her into his side, hiding her under his leather jacket.

She wrapped her arms around his torso. “You’re warm.” Sighing contentedly and already feeling his body heat spread to hers. “What is it about me and Joshua?” She suddenly recalled that he’d started to say something.

“You were saying earlier….you’re not serious.”

“We’re not.” She rested her cheek against his body. “Plus, we’re leaving for the east coast soon anyway, right?”

Matty nodded.

“Yeah, so I won’t see him again after that.”

He remained silent for a while, taking her words in. He couldn’t help but be delighted. Should he try again tell her now? Should he wait until Joshua is old news first? What would she prefer, if she could choose? How can he make this perfect for her? “You’re freezing. Let’s go upstairs, yeah?”

“What a fine idea.”

***

“You’re exhausted, aren’t you?” Amelia sat next to him on the bed and reached out her hand to stroke his cheek.

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. He felt the cold metal of the rings on her fingers against his face and the scent of cigarettes lingered on her skin. “You’ve been asking me that every time you’ve seen me.”

“When's the last time that you had a full nights sleep?” She asked, her tone suggesting that she already knew the answer.

“What’s a full nights sleep?” He quipped.

With her face so close to his, Matty’s eyes studied her features, admiring her beauty. Her pretty eyes, the smudged, faded lipstick on her lips. He thought about how the smudge had happened. How, earlier in the night, her lips might have looked different. He hadn’t caught her before she’d gone out to meet Joshua. But he imagined the color sitting perfectly within the lining of her lips. Until another man’s lips had kissed hers. A man that wasn’t him. Had she let him touch her the way that she let Matty so often do? Had his fingers traced her skin? Had he made her feel good? Was she wet for him before he’d even undressed her? Did he make her weak? Had he heard her whine and beg? Had she been vulnerable for him? Did Joshua know that she preferred it when a little pain was delivered with her pleasure? A slight tug on her hair. An ever so slightly rough squeeze of her neck…had he learned her body? Had his name died on her lips, interrupted by her moan as she’d cum for him? Would Matty taste the remnants of someone else on her lips if he could kiss her now? Was it all the same? Just sex? Just pleasure, regardless of the source?

Did Joshua know how she liked her head scratched afterwards? Were they intimate enough for him to notice how shy she gets after the orgasmic high subsides and she feels naked and exposed? Does he rush to cover her up and shower her with praise as he had done, countless times before.

Amelia watched the darkness creep onto Matty’s face, as if suddenly visited by a waking nightmare.

“Matty, are you alright?”

Her gentle voice calmed his racing mind, pulling his thoughts away. He nodded. “Y-yeah.”

“You’re worried about the show, aren’t you?”

The show. Sure, that’s what he’s worried about. She’s not entirely wrong. The future of the tour weighed heavily on his shoulders. Not at this exact moment, though. “Yeah- the…show.” He mumbled.

She kicked off her shoes, climbing into his bed and making herself comfortable. Matty’s body ached for her.

“C’mon.” She patted the empty space next to her, urging him to join.

They each laid on their sides, facing each other, noses almost touching.

“So, tell me what you have in mind.” She smiled and his heart skipped a beat.

“Tell you what?”

“Isn’t that why you’re paying me? To help stage the show?”

“Right…yeah. The show! Yes! Of course…well, erm.” He cleared his throat. “I think we keep the naked body double—“

“Peanut. He has a name! Please.”

Matty laughed.

“How’d you like it if we all started referring to you as the clothed body double?”

“Fair argument….alright. So, I think we keep the Peanut bit. It’s kinda dramatic enough on its own. And it’s open-ended enough for me to, like, improvise as I go, you know? Like I don’t have to do the exact same bit every night. I can pretty much engage with it-“

“Him.”

“Engage with him in any way I like. Depending on what I’m in the mood for.”

She nodded. “Yeah, that’s true….I like that. It’s clever. So, what’s the problem then?”

“The problem is the other bit. The weight lifting and smoking and stuff.”

“Okay…” she was quiet for a moment. Matty found himself getting lost in her eyes, his heart beating to the rhythm of her blinking. “Well, let me ask you this: what’d you write it about?”

“Well it’s commentary on the old show, right? The raw meat eating ‘I’m a man’ stuff. But it’s also….a healthier version of that. So, it’s double edged like that.”

She nodded.

“I guess it’s just….well, part of the criticism that I’m meant to be responding to is that I took the performance bit too far, right?”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t think I’m addressing that adequately by shirtlessly lifting weights.”

Matty watched Amelia frown, deep in thought. She shuffled spring in bed, sitting up and propping up the pillow behind her back to rest against the headboard. His eyebrows shot up to keep track of her. He shifted to lay on his back and felt small next to her.

“Have you thought about reflecting the inadequacy of your response within the response itself?” She spoke after giving it some thought. “Like saying something to the audience about it even as you’re doing it?”

“Like commenting on the commentary?” Matty asked. “That’s meta.” He giggled. “Very matty-coded. I like it.”

She chuckled “matty-coded? God, you’re hot.”

“I am? I mean, yeah, I am, but-“

“I hate that I have a thing for men with big brains it’s so cliche.” She bristled, judging herself.

“I DO have a big brain, you’re right.”

“Get your head out of the gutter. I was actually referring to your brain, nothing else.”

“Oh. What a shame.”

“Don’t say it.” She commanded, looking down at him knowingly.

“I have literally said nothing.”

“I know you. You’re thinking about making a joke about how you have two heads. One up here, and one down there.”

Matty giggled, rolling his eyes. “I was not thinking about that.” He was. He so was. And he found it attractive that she could read him that well.

“Does it bother you that people thought you took the performance bit too far?”

Matty was taken aback by the question. Perhaps it was the abrupt change of subject, or just the fact that he was sleep deprived, and perpetually on the verge of telling her how he feels, but he felt a mix of emotions bubble to the surface. He remained quiet for a long time, contemplating his answer. The longer he thought about it, the more emotional he became.

“I’d love to say ‘no’ but yeah. Yes it bothers me.” He sighed loudly. “It didn’t at first. And to be fair, not all criticisms are valid. There are some objectively stupid tales.” He kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling as he spoke. “And those don’t bother me. I just— I expect Twitter to have something to say no matter what I do or say. That’s sort of a— an occupational hazard at this point. I guess what bothers me most is….people thinking that I did any of it maliciously, you know?”

She heard a faint strain in his voice and sensed that she’d hit a sore spot. “Matty—“

“Like some actually think that I set out to do this with the intention of hurting people.” He exhaled, blinking rapidly to keep from crying. “The concept of punching down in comedy….it’s just….it’s not great. And- I guess you could argue that - I did do that. To some extent?”

“Yeah, and you’re not a comedian. So there’s not really that context either.”

“I disagree.” The statement echoed for a long moment. “I do. I really disagree with you about that.” A few stray tears managed to roll down his face but he ignored them and carried on. “ I don’t think I’m a comedian like in a professional comic kind of way. I’m not like….fuckin Bo Burnham. But I think I’ve set up the persona as a bit of a jokester. Or at least I thought I had. I guess it came out of nowhere for some people.”

“It came off stage.” She corrected him.

“Right. But- metaphorically speaking everything’s a stage.” He gestured vaguely with his hands. “Well, you know what I mean. You’ve heard me say this before. About…..like social media being a performance and all that.” He shrugged. “Anyway, and then- then all that other shit happened and….I guess I’m public enemy number one now.”

“I’m so sorry-“

“It’s fine. It’s whatever.”

“Don’t say that-“

“No, no. I mean it. It’s fine. Like, this isn’t about feeling sorry for myself. I don’t ever want the show to become that.”

Amelia looked him straight in the eyes. “The show doesn’t have to become about that. But you’re allowed to feel however you feel.”

“It’s….I just need to man up and deal with it.” He shifted back to lay on his side again, his arms reaching upwards and wrapping around her, he buried his face into her waist, letting the rest of his tears flow.

***

Matty awoke in a panic. Suddenly jolting in bed and looking around him through squinted eyes as he sat up. “What happened?” He mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep. He noticed that he was in nothing but his boxers. His jeans were folded across the chair on the other side of the room. His shirt was draped over Amelia’s shoulders as she stood by the foot of the bed, sipping on what smelled like coffee.

“Mornin.’” She spoke into her beverage. “Bad dream?”

He nodded. “What time is it?”

“ it’s only 7 am. Go back to sleep.”

“Fuck. Shit. Fuck.” His head hit the pillow again. “I’ve gotta meet Ross at the hotel gym in a bit.”

“I’m sure he’d understand if you canceled just this once.” Amelia made her way towards the hotel coffee machine, rummaging through the complimentary supplies to make him some coffee.

“I figured it out.” He spoke over the sound of the machine, “I’m taking out the weight lifting bit. I’ll replace it with a speech. But it’s going to be funny. I’ll have to write something today. You and Tobias can help me figure out where I should be, onstage, when I deliver it. For lights and shit.”

“Is that what your dream was about?” She picked up his mug, walking over to his side of the bed.

“No. No. My dream was….much more terrifying.”

“You wanna talk about it?” She handed him the mug.

“Not really. Id rather forget about it.” He took a sip and hummed in satisfaction.

“Oh I know how to help you forget.” She whispered into his ear.

“Oh?”

“Have you decided whether or not you want sex yet?”

He stared through her, blankly. Nows not the time to say I love you.

With his eyes still fixed on her, he set his drink down on the nightstand, then he leaned forth and kissed her, wrapping both of his strong arms around her waist and pulling her on top of him.

She yelped, loudly, laughing and reveling in the kisses that he’d peppered her body with. Fuck, she’d missed him. He had a certain unforgettable touch that satiated her, yet always left her wanting more.

“Hold on tight for me, darling.” He whispered from underneath her.

She hovered over him, her hands gripping the headboard tightly, knowing it was necessary, and bracing herself. Matty lined his lips with her center, licking his mouth hungrily.

“You ready?”

“Yes, god yes.”

“What I like to hear.”

She gasped, breathless as she felt his tongue lick into her. Mouthing a silent “fuck yeah” up at the ceiling. His mouth was just as perfect as she’d remembered and replayed in her fantasies. He knew exactly how to move, he’d taken pains to learn the pace that worked best for her, and he took his time working her up: going slow at first, giving her time to adjust, making sure she’s comfortable before dialing up. He relished in the fact that he could tell how great she was feeling by the rocking of the headboard. As the sound of it hitting the wall intensified, so did his mouth, licking, sucking. His newly grown out facial hair grazing the insides of her legs, a new sensation she hadn’t experienced before.

She felt ( and heard) her own wetness covering Matty’s lips, dripping down his chin. He let none of it stop him. He delighted in it, in fact. Took it as a clear indication that he was doing his job right. He loved opening his eyes, seeing her breasts right there in front of him and had to fight the urge to reach over for a quick feel. As tempted as he was, he much preferred keeping his arms wrapped around her, both, for safety, and to keep her in place whenever she tried to squirm away, feeling too sensitive. He knew he’d gotten her right where she wanted when she began to shake and whine.

“Ple-please. Matty- please— I feel- you’re so- please?”

He waited for her to look down, locking eyes with him, then, without pulling his mouth away from her, he nodded, mumbling a “cum for me.”

Matty smiled when he felt her thighs clamp down around his head. She moved faster, carelessly, bouncing up and down, riding his tongue, and screaming out his name.

His grip around her tightened when she let go of the headboard, catching her as she collapsed on top of him.

The sounds of their heavy breathing filled the room.

“Yum.” Matty made sure to add into the heavy silence, making her blush and turn to hide her face in the sheets.

He rolled over to pull her away from the bed and free her beautiful, blushing face. “Pretty sure the entire floor knows my name now. So much for my ‘Adam Levine’ Alias.” He gloated.

“Stopppp. That’s not funnyyy.” She whined, hiding in the crook of his neck.

“Sorry, sorry. I forget you get weirdly shy after doing obscenely sexy things.”

He peeled her off of him, his fingers tilting her chin up. “Hi. Good morning.” He couldn’t help the grin on his face. “Kiss?”

“Can taste myself on you.”

“Don’t you taste amazing?” Matty reached for his lukewarm coffee. “Could put you in my coffee and drink you up.”

“Gross.” She rolled her eyes. “Wait,” she took his mug away as soon as it touched his lips. “Wanna ride you.”

“Uhh…what?”

“Who’s shy now?” She shot up an eyebrow as she set the mug back where it was.

“N-no. Not shy. Just….the last time we did that…well….”

“I cried and hid in the bathroom. I know. But I wanna try again.”

“Are you- sure?”

“Wouldn’t be literally asking for it if I wasn’t.”

“Fair enough- I guess.”

Matty’s body stiffened, head to toe, as soon as she moved to remove his briefs. She felt him tense up.

“You alright?”

“Mhm.”

“Matty, don’t worry. I’m fine. I promise this is fine.”

“Yeah, umm…yeah. It’s fine.”

She studied his face silently for a beat. “So….can I go ahead?”

“I- guess. Yeah…yeah, go on. Do it.”

Amelia was stunned to look down at Matty’s lap and find herself face to face with his flaccid penis.

“Uhh, Matty-“

“Don’t- I know- it’s fine.”

“Uhhu. So you keep saying. But I’m looking at it and- well, it’s not fine. Hey, no big deal! You’re not in the mood right now. You don’t have to be. I guess I just thought, after everything you just did-“

“I AM in the mood. I promise!”

“Does the rest of your body know?”

“It…knows.

“The dick doesn’t lie, Matty.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood for that right this second.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” She nodded at his lap. “Sorry! Sorry! I think- I think I reflexively make jokes when I’m uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to-“

“Go to therapy, Amelia! Stop making dick jokes.”

“Soft dick jokes….okay, that wasn’t nice but I’ll let it slide cuz you’re having a crisis of masculinity right now.”

Matty pulled his briefs back up. “I am not!”

“I’m not saying that….that….failing to get it up — there I said it! Okay. We’re all adults here it’s fine! Except I guess Matty Jr. over there cuz he’s refusing to grow but…oh my god someone stop me!!!l” she got off the bed, pacing around the room and avoiding looking into Matty’s eyes. Then, once her brows had stopped sweating she tried again.

“I’m just saying, Matty. Failing to maintain an erection is fine. It’s not some weird measure of manliness or whatever. But you make whole shows about being a man and….I guess I just wanna say that it happens. It’s fine.”

Matty turned around around to sit on the edge of the bed, his feet touching the ground. He found his cigarette packet on the nightstand and began to feel around for his lighter.

“Amelia?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you leave?”

“What? Why?! Are you mad at me? I was joking, Matty! I’m sorry-“

“No, no. I’m not mad. It’s just….please leave? I can’t look at you right now. Don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Oh, for fucks sakes! You’re such a primate. What, are you a wounded jungle animal going off on his own to die with dignity away from the pack? So, your dick can’t get hard so fuckin what? They have drugs for that shit now. Pop a pill and shut up!”

“Leave.” Matty walked over to his hotel room door, pulling it open.

“Unbelievable.”

***

Matty stood in the far corner of the venue, sipping his wine and wishing he were anywhere but this after party. He knew that as Frontman, it reflected well on everybody for him to be there and to put on a smile, especially since they were leaving the west coast in the morning. This would be his last chance to thank and celebrate some local people who helped put this show on for the past few weeks.

His mind, however, was elsewhere. He couldn’t tear his eyes off Amelia. And as he looked at her, his nightmare from the other night replayed in his head. He’d dreamt that he tried to tell her that he loves her, but every time that he would approach her, she’d get farther and farther away, until she’d disappeared. Marty’s never been a superstitious guy, but, something about that dream left a bad feeling in the back of his mind.

‘I’m in love with you.’ Just tell her. Go on. Go up to her. Look her in the eyes and say ‘Amelia, I’m in love with you.’ Do it before you lose the courage. He gulped down what was left of his drink and marched in her direction. She’d been saying goodbye to a venue worker who’d helped her out of a few backstage emergencies.

“Amelia?”

She turned around at the mention of her name. “Matty! Hi! Oh, god. I wasn’t sure…I mean, I’ve been keeping my distance cuz…you know. You kicked me out of your hotel room after not being able to- well, you know. But I just wanted to say.”

“Amelia, shut up.”

“Beg your fuckin pardon?”

“Sorry, I just mean, forget all that. I’ve got something to tell you.”

“Oh? Go on. What is it?”

“Well, it’s simple, really, I-“

Amelia felt someone tap her shoulder and turned around. It was Joshua. He leaned in and greeted her with a kiss.

“Hi, you.” Matty noticed her hand squeeze his shoulder. “What- what’re you doing here? Come to say goodbye?”

“Even better.” Joshua smiled at her. “Here to give you the good news in person. I’m tagging along! On tour, I mean. If you’ll have me.”

“What?!” Matty yelled out before he could stop himself.

Both of the couples heads whipped around staring at him.

“Sorry, pardon. Private moment. I shouldn’t intrude…I’ll just- walk…away.”

As he walked away, Matty thought, THIS must be his dream. His nightmare coming to life.