#i have friends theoretically but i dont talk to them

[hibiscuts]

:)

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[arolesbianism]

I've been passively watching an isat playthrough while twiddling my thumbs in my current oni save as I wait for my new power systems to be done and hey guys. I think one of these bitches is aromantic. Why did no one tell me one of these bitches is aromantic I would have played the game myself if I knew that

[playingonedchess]

are other people like not as nosy as me or something

[obnoxiousarcade]

black

really? honest?

[ihavemyfits]

a boy w somewhat artsy eyeliner was our cashier at a shop today and im sorry to say that i havent changed at all since i was a kid. i am not immune to guyliner

[chaoticharrington]

Chapter Two: The Ticket and Your Shitty Car

***THERE WILL BE LOTS SMUT 18+ CONTENT EVENTUALLY SO MINORS THIS IS NOT A SPACE FOR YOU, MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED,IF YOU DONT HAVE AN AGE IN YOUR BIO I WILL LIKELY ASSUME YOU'RE A MINOR AND BLOCK. DM/ASK FOR ANY QUESTIONS THANKS!<3***

Pairing: Professor! Steve Harrington x Best Friends Dad! Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lots of angst (sorry folks), mentions of anxiety and bullying, cigarette smoking, Eddie and Steve being sexy, kissing 👀, Reader is in their mid 20s and Steve and Eddie are in their early to mid 40s. Lemme know if i've missed anything.

Summary: After a few weeks of getting closer to Eddie and Steve feelings bubble to the surface

Authors Note: I'm so excited for this chapter and the rest of the series i've been having so much fun writing this! I've never written angst before so i'm interested in the response it'll get! And I pinky promise ya'll are getting smut in the next chapter 😈 7k words

**Chapter One Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five**

(banners and headers by @cafekitsune)

A couple days had gone by since your first interactions with the two men that have been plaguing both your waking thoughts and your dreams. You’ve woken up more than once this week from your body buzzing and your panties soaked through. Lips on skin, rough hands on your hips, deep voices whispering in your ear. Groaning yourself fully awake and grabbing your vibrator to finish the job, that isn’t nearly as good as whatever was happening in your dreams.

Because of these dreams it made it impossible to look at Steve during class, only looking when you absolutely had to. Avoiding Mr. Munson was a bit easier, he either wasn’t home much when you were with Violet, or he was in the garage. You convinced yourself that you would just eventually get over your little crushes, and if you just avoided them long enough then things would go back to normal, and you’d have your sanity back.

But things didn’t quite work out that way. After you had gotten your ticket on the first day, you decided you would just pay it off yourself, to avoid another possibly embarrassing interaction with Steve. You had your parking pass now so you wouldn’t get another ticket. But you had a busy week with assignments and kept forgetting to take care of it. By the end of the week, you had completely forgotten about it, until Fridays sociology class. It was a normal class; Steve was talking about the theoretical approach to sociology. At the end of class, you were supposed to hand in your paper on Social Darwinism, you had spent many late nights making sure that this paper specifically was perfect. The problem was that when you were meant to hand it in at the end of class, you couldn’t find it, and you were starting to panic. Almost all the other students had left or were in the process of handing in their papers and you were left anxiously digging through your bookbag.

“Oh, how the tables turn, need some help there?”

You freeze, looking up from the familiar black converse that you could see next to your bookbag. Your anxious eyes are met with playful honey brown ones, that make you relax slightly.

“Sorry no I’m good I know it’s in here somewhere,” you reply a little anxious. You didn’t want your professor to think that this was any reflection of you as a student or your work ethic.

Steve watches you dig through your bag for another few seconds when you finally find it, in a folder you don’t remember putting it in. When you get the folder out of your bookbag, the ticket sitting at the bottom of your bag falls out onto the floor right at Steves feet. You’re too busy to notice, trying to make sure all of the pages of your paper are in order, and you have all your sources. When you finally look up from the papers in front of you, you see Steve holding the ticket that you got on the first day of school.

You panic and look up and into his eyes, he doesn’t look mad, but he looks confused. “I thought I told you I’d fix this for you if you ever got a ticket. Why didn’t you tell me?” he said.

“I- I didn’t want to bother with you something so silly, I was going to pay it, but with a bunch of papers due, I just forgot I’m sorry,” you blurt out.

Steve raises his hand to silence your apologies casually, and you’re ready for him to yell at you or at the very least be disappointed in you.

Shit, why did you not just pay it the day you got it?

“It’s not your fault honey, there’s no need for you to apologize, okay?” he says warmly. Your shoulders relax a bit more, his voice giving you reassurance.

“I swear I really did mean to pay it, I just didn’t want to bother you,” you confess.

Steves eyes soften. “Y/N you are never a bother, plus it's my fault for being the worst teacher in history and not giving you a parking pass.” He jokes.

“Steve you’re one of my favorite teachers, nowhere near my list of worst teachers.” You reveal.

He smiles widely and raises his eyebrow; you swear you can feel your insides thaw. With the playful look on his face, he almost seems younger, you could only imagine how attractive he was when he was younger, even just a glimpse is enough to make your stomach do flips.

“Oh so there IS list? Well, I demand to know where I am on your favorite teachers list, maybe it’ll give me motivation to try harder in class.” He winks at you in retort. You swear you could cum in your pants right now, how dare he be so beautiful and perfect, and funny.

You think hard for a second, you can’t put him first you think his ego probably couldn’t handle it, also it would just bring you more embarrassment. But he very easily is your favorite teacher, he makes jokes during class, makes sure his lectures are easy to understand and enjoyable, and seems to genuinely care about all his students, it’s very hard to rank any teacher above him.

“I hope your ego can handle it Steve, but you’re second.” you gush.

“You wound me, SECOND? That’s basically failure I demand to know who could possibly rank higher than me?” he jokingly stands up straighter, adjusts his tie, and holds his hand to his heart.

Damn, you hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Uh, Professor Buckley, my Gender Studies Professor, I love her class,” you confess.

Steves eyes couldn’t roll farther back into his head even if he tried, you almost worried that they’d get stuck.

“You’re telling me, my best friend has already won you over? I’ve sat in on some of her classes and there is no way that Robin is funnier than I am!” he exclaimed as he puts his hands on his hips.

“You know Professor Buckley.. er Robin? Also, you definitely top her in the funny department, how did I know you wouldn’t be satisfied with second.” you retort easily. You could get used to this, the casual flirting, smiling with your professor, it felt easier than breathing. Once you got over the fact that he was one of the most handsome men that you’ve ever seen in your whole life.

“Know her? She’s been my best friend since high school, and a major pain in my ass. Second place is basically losing, everyone knows that babe.” The pet name slipped off his tongue so effortlessly.

Your eyes must have gone wide because Steve looks slightly embarrassed and rubs the back of his neck.

Babe babe babe babe babe babe babe HE CALLED YOU BABE

“Well then I guess you gotta step it up Professor.” you reply, trying to ease the tension in the room.

He smiles at you gratefully, “yeah I guess so,” he chuckles.

“Anyways I don’t want to keep you again for the second time this week, I’ll see you in class on Monday Steve.” you say as you go to stand up and walk past him. You’re about halfway to the door before you hear him call out.

“Hey, wait up, uh why don’t you come with me to my office so I can get that parking ticket taken care of for you,” he explains.

“You sure? I don’t want to make you late for your next class.”

“I’m the one who got you into this mess, please let me help you fix it?” he asks gently.

“Lead the way professor,”you answer playfully.

He smiles that flashy Steve Harrington smile and shows you the way towards his office.

“It’s just down this hallway,” he shares.

Then you feel him put his hand at the small of your back guiding you into a room on the righthand side, his touch lights your body on fire. It takes everything in you not to lean into his touch. You can smell his cologne, now that you’re so close to him. It’s a fairly clean scent with hints of musk and spice at the end, a more modern scent then you expected from a man his age. It only makes you want him more, to lean in closer and smell his scent mixed with the cologne.

You’re snapped out of your daze when Steve picks up the phone receiver and punches in a phone number. His fingers almost covered the buttons on the phone, and it made your legs squeeze together, thinking back to the multiple dreams you had about those specific fingers all over you. Steve looks up at you smiling lightly, surely just trying to fill the silence that filled the room. You hoped he hadn’t magically learned how to read minds in the short walk from his classroom to his office or you’d be toast.

His office wasn’t anything glamorous, it was an average size, with a nice desk and comfy looking chair, and big window with a view that overlooked the campus. The only thing making it uniquely his are the loads of pictures of him and Professor Buckley, and a few other guys and girls that looked around his age or maybe a bit younger. Documenting various birthdays, weddings, and get togethers.

While Steve is on the phone you take a moment to look at them, you see a picture of Steve being Professor Buckleys best man in her wedding to a pretty woman with dark brown hair and blue eyes. They all looked so happy, it made you smile, it looked like a really special day. Also noting that there are no wedding photos of him or pictures of him with a girlfriend, making your heart internally soar.

When you finally tear your eyes away from the photos, you hear the end of a conversation Steve is having with someone on the phone.

“Thanks again Reg, I promise it won’t happen again. Yeah, you too, take care. Say hi to the wife and kids for me," he said.

He puts down the receiver and looks at where you’re standing, and gestures to the photo you’re looking at.

“Yeah, Robins wedding! It was a really great day,” he reminisces. He goes onto explain that Robin ended up marrying his ex from High School, Nancy Wheeler. You smile and nod along to the anecdotes he talks about that day, trying to absorb everything he tells you about his life like a sponge.

“And by the end of the night Lucas and Max lead everyone in a impromptu sing-a-long to Never Ending Story, It was hilarious,” He says. You could combust, you can see just how clearly he loves his friends and how much they mean to him. He shakes his head and smiles wide at the memory, his smile being infectious, you smile back at him.

“Sounds like really good time Steve,” you reply.

“Yeah, it was, it really was.” he shares, he seems a little lost in thought for a moment before smiling up at you. “Sorry I don’t mean to bore you with my stories of the old days, I don’t get to gush about the people I love very often, so its nice to have someone listen," He confessed.

Your heart melts, he’s such a sweetheart. “No no please, I enjoy hearing them, makes you more a person than just my teacher. Plus, maybe at some point you’ll slip up and tell me something embarrassing about yourself. Then you’re done for Harrington,” you jab.

     He raises his eyebrows at you and looks impressed. “That’ll never happen, I’ve never done anything embarrassing in my life ever,” he states sarcastically.

     “Well, I’ll just have to ask Professor Buckley, my favorite teacher, about it won’t I?” you interject.

     His face goes from his handsome boyish grin to fake terror in a split second, “I will give you whatever grade you want in my class if you don’t do that, she’d go on for hours, might even keep you after class just to rub it in my face.”  

     You could tell that there was some truth to his words, and you know your gender studies professor well enough to know that she really would just rip him a new one. You giggle back at him, unable to keep it in.

“She really would tear you to shreds, wouldn’t she?” you cackle. His face softens, “Yes she’s evil, just awaiting my downfall I swear!” he smiles softly at you.

You both look at each other a bit longer before Steve clears his throat. “Anyways um, I talked to the guy in campus security and you’re good to go, you don’t have to pay the ticket,” He spoke.

You had honestly completely forgotten that was the reason you were even in his office; his demeanor makes you feel at home in your own skin and were just happy to not have anxious thoughts rolling around inside of your head.

“Oh, right yeah, thank you so much, you really didn’t need to go through all this trouble for me,” you said.

“No trouble at all, really. I should probably get going though, my next class starts soon.” he explained looking at the very expensive looking watch on his wrist.

You try your best not to show your disappointment, wishing to stay in this little bubble with him a bit longer.

“Of course, yeah. Thank you again Steve,” you respond.

He leads you back out the door with his hand on your back again, maybe this time a bit firmer than the last, and you weren’t complaining. You both wave your goodbyes for the weekend before you head out to the parking lot, and he heads towards his next class.

You were relieved to be going home, this first week of school has tested you mentally and emotionally and you were ready for a little break. You hop in your car, and twist your key in the ignition, but to your surprise, instead of your car roaring to life like it usually does. It just stalled, unable to start. You try the ignition a few more times before you rest your head on your steering wheel.

Just your fucking luck

You take your phone out of your jean pocket and call Violet to see if she knows any good mechanics in the area. But you only get her voicemail. “Come on Vi,”you mutter to yourself, trying her cell again and again. Only to get her voicemail each and every time. You couldn’t very well leave your car in the parking lot overnight, then you’d surely get another ticket. But what other option did you have?

You make the decision to call Violet’s home phone, thinking maybe she’s too engrossed in a TV show or something to see her phone going off. It rings a few times before someone picks up.

“Munson residence.” a deep familiar voice answers the phone.

Shit

“Hi Mr. Munson, is Vi there?” you reply.

“Nah she left about an hour or two ago to head to work, everything okay?” he asks a slight concern in his voice.

“Oh uh yeah, my- my car just isn’t starting and I don’t know any mechanics in the area who could come and take a look at it,” you respond anxiously

You hear what you assume is him blowing out some smoke from his mouth, you shake your head trying to stay on track.

“Any mechanic out here is gonna charge you an arm an a leg to come look at your car right before the weekend, let me come and take a look at it myself,” he suggests.

Your body runs cold, you couldn’t deal with another interaction with BOTH of them in the same day again, you’d burst into flames.

“Oh gods no that’s really okay Mr. Munson. I’ll just leave my car here overnight its no big deal, I’ll just walk home its not that far,” You babble anxiously.

You hear him scoff on the other end of the phone, “What do you mean walk home? Where are you Y/N?” his tone getting a bit more serious than the lighthearted goofy tone you usually get from him.

“I’m at school, it’s fine really, my apartment isn’t that far from-,” you squeak.

“Let me just grab my tools and I’ll meet you in the parking lot, which building are you in front of?” he interjects, you can hear some rustling on the other end of the phone.

“I-,“ you think about arguing with him but you know that in the end Mr. Munson is a stubborn man and you will lose. “I’m in front of the Humanities and Social Sciences building, its right by-,“ you confess.

He chuckles “Oh yeah I know the one, be there in a sec, hang tight.” he says before hanging up the phone.

You bring your phone down onto your lap in defeat. You hide in your car until you see his car pull up, you don’t need anyone seeing you, especially a certain sociology professor. His big black truck pulls into the space next to you, and you get out of your car to greet him.

“Hey thanks for coming all the way out here, I hope I didn’t take you away from anything or anyone,” you look up at him innocently. He stands about a foot away from you, but even then, you could see just how much taller he is than you. He could probably use you as an arm rest.

He gives you an easy-going smile, “No problem at all sweetheart, I’m happy to help!” You give him the keys and he goes to try and start the car and it stalls again and he clicks his tongue.

Your mind going back to the dreams you’ve had of his tongue on you, on your skin. You shiver at the thought, and you squeeze your arms around you willing yourself not to fall apart.

Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with opening the hood and looking inside. He takes off his leather jacket and lays it on top of the hood and rolls up his sleeves. He fiddles around inside of the hood for a few seconds before popping his head around the corner.

“Looks like your spark plug is shot, I have an extra on me in case of emergencies, it’s your lucky day pretty lady,” He announces cheerily.

Pretty lady

“Oh, thank you Mr. Munson, you’re a life saver!” you beam.

He looks at you again one more time, studying you for the second time this week, he looks like he’s contemplating something in his head. His eyes are like lasers on your skin, heating you up from the inside.

“It’s Eddie, you can call me Eddie honey, you’ve known me long enough.” he says as he smiles at you, the edges of his eyes crinkling.

You can’t help but smile back, “Okay, thanks, E-eddie,” you stammer out. His name feeling so odd on your tongue, he’s your best friend’s dad, would Violet think its weird that you call him by his first name now?

He smiles contently like he made the right decision and goes back to working on your car. You lean against his car just watching him work, seeing how his hands knowingly move on all the parts of your car that you don’t even know the names of, only being able to identify the windshield wiper fluid cap and oil fill cap. You look at his now uncovered arms that you didn’t see the last time you got a good look at him, you could see right near his left wrist Violets name tattooed in beautiful cursive, and D20 right above his left elbow. You see how veiny his hands and arms are, probably due to years of playing the guitar and working on various motorcycles and cars.

“So, what are you going to school for?” he says, looking at you through the corner of his eye while he works.

“Psychology mostly,” you reply easily.

“What do you want to do with it? Your degree?” he responds.

“I’d love to work with kids, I felt like no one ever listened to me as a kid, so I’d love to be able to be a safe space for kids to express themselves.” You shared, this was something you’ve been passionate for a while, wanting to work with kids. Giving them something that you never got when you were a kid, a place where they felt understood even if they didn’t feel like that at home.

He looks up at you from his work with an impressed look on his face, “That’s really fucking cool Y/N, I wish stuff like that had been around when I was a kid. Woulda made Middle School and High School a lot more bearable for me, trust me.”

Your heartbreaks at his confession, you figured that he probably wasn’t always the suave sexy metal head that he is now, and he probably got teased a lot when he was a kid. It reminded you of your own experiences in school, teased and never really fitting in anywhere. Violet went through something similar except it never really seemed to bother her, she was always the type of kid that always knew who she was and didn’t let anyone get in her way. You always admired that about her.

“Honestly me too,” you confess.

Eddie raises an eyebrow at you, “No way, You and Vi had loads of friends in Middle School,” he says.

“Yeah, in Middle School sure, but high school was brutal without her there, kids are mean.” You say sadly, rubbing your boot into the asphalt trying to wash away depressing memories of eating in the bathroom and crying yourself to sleep at night.

Eddie scrunches his eyebrows together and nods knowingly, sharing that feeling. “Yeah, teenagers are fucking assholes.”

You nod knowingly, as Eddie steps around the front of your car to get into the driver’s seat, scootching closing to you, grabbing the side of your waist as he passes you. You take a shallow breath, and your mouth runs dry. His hand felt so perfect on your waist, like it belonged there… and then your mind wanders to Steve, his touch felt the same way.

Eddie got into the front seat and turned your key in the ignition, and sure enough your car roared to life.

“Huzzahh!” Eddie cheered, getting out of the driver’s seat and bowing to you. A smile plastered across his face in triumph.

“There ya go honey good as new, although you should stop by the house sometime, so I can put a new battery in your car, it looks like it’s about to take a shit on you, and I want you to be safe during the Winter.” He says casually wiping the oil and grease off his fingers with the rag in his tool kit.

He wants you to be safe

“That would be great, thank you again, honestly I don’t know what I would have done without you. What do I owe you Eddie?” you ask. Surely, he’d want some compensation for driving all the way out here on a Friday, probably ruining his plans to come help his daughters best friend with her car.

“On the house, and don’t fight me on this I’m not accepting any money from you.” He says slightly stern but in a way that makes you smile lightly.

“I’ll figure out a way to make it up to you or something, do you like cookies? I’ll bake you some cookies for all your help,” you insist.

“IF you happen to make double chocolate chip cookies and bring them over to the house, for Violet of course, I wouldn’t say no to one or two,” he says slyly.

“I’ll bring them over this weekend.” you say determined to not be in debt to him.

He packs his tools back into the trunk of his truck and shrugs his leather jacket back on, “I’ll hold you to that sweetheart.” he winks at you before getting back into his truck and waving to you as he drives off the lot.

You get back into your newly fixed car and drive home to your apartment, first thing on the agenda, a very cold shower.

The next few weeks had been an absolute whirlwind of epic proportions. Steve came back with your grades for your latest paper, and when yours got passed to you, at the top of your paper, “SEE ME AFTER CLASS” was written in blue pen. After class he explained that he was “very impressed” with your work and effort you spent on your paper and asked you to be his TA and help him a couple of days a week. Help him with grading papers, answering any questions your classmates had on assignments or class subjects, and help with lectures for upcoming classes. You couldn’t have said yes faster, not only did you have a huge massive crush on him. But you genuinely enjoyed his class and were excited to prove yourself. On those days you spent most of the time after your classes, spent huddled in his office with him grading papers or talking about different upcoming subjects you were going to learn in class. It was becoming one of your favorite parts of your day, you always left his office in the best mood. Plus, the flirting and your attraction to him only grew during this time, you noticed he started going more and more out of his way to touch you, or holding eye contact with you longer than was probably appropriate. You welcomed it, Steve made you feel like you were on cloud nine, some nights the two of you were left in his office until after dark, after all the work was done, just flirting and talking about life. Eating shitty takeout food that he’d grab from the cafeteria or the two of you would order in.

He always treated you with respect letting you talk about your feelings or whatever was on your mind, you eventually opening up to him about why you wanted to go into psychology, and he opened up to you about how he hadn’t always been the way he is now, and how there are parts of his past he’s ashamed of. The two of you bonded over your lack of family you had in your life, you told him about your parents basically ditching you after graduation and he told you about how his parents cut him off when he told them what decided what he wanted to do with his life and hadn’t heard much from him since. He reassured you that the only family that actually mattered was your chosen family and the people who love you that you let into your little corner of the world. You talked about your views on the world and your dreams. You liked that about him, that he listened to you and how modest and genuine he is, you assumed at first glance that someone with good looks like him and his upbringing he’d have an large ego. Which wasn’t entirely wrong, but not in a bad way. You’d come to really like Steve Harrington, he had an ego the size of a lake but a heart to match.

Which made it even more confusing on the days that you didn’t spend in his office. See you had saved up enough money for school and your expenses for the first couple of weeks, but that money only stretched so far. So, you looked for a job, and you became desperate. Being in a college town, good jobs that weren’t already taken by other college students were far and few between and being a TA wasn’t enough. So, one night after school when you were at Violets, Eddie overheard you talking about your dilemma, and offered you a job working for him. Eddie worked as a record producer and worked closely with a few music managers who were looking for social media manager. Which you happily accepted, there were no set hours and you could do a majority of your work in your pjs at home unless you needed to get Eddies opinion on something then you’d spend time out in the garage with him while he gave you advice or things the label is looking for in terms of the clients image or engagement numbers you needed to hit.

Sometimes you’d even make up excuses just to go over and spend time with him in the garage. He was patient with you while you slowly opened up to him about things that had happened over the past few years that you never wanted to worry Violet with, cheating boyfriends, bad friends, financial problems, and he took it all with stride, listening to and giving advice where he could. He’d spend time reminiscing about the “glory days” when his band, Corroded Coffin, used to play gigs every weekend at the hideout, a small bar on the outside of town. Or when he was in high school, he ran a club in school called the Hellfire Club where all his friends would play DnD, he even showed you that he got Hell Fire tattooed across his knuckles. You’d spend hours over there just tucked away in Eddies little corner of the house, sometimes he’d play songs for you on his guitar, or when he found out you had never played DnD he spent a few nights teaching you all the basics in case you ever wanted to play. You liked the way you felt when you were around Eddie, in a similar way that Steve did, Eddie quieted your thoughts of self-doubt and anxiety that usually swirled around in your head. You really liked Eddie, and it made your feelings even more confused because you felt guilty keeping all of this from Violet. You didn’t know how she would react to you having a crush on her dad, and you never wanted to put your friendship with her in danger. She was basically the only family you had, and you intended to keep it that way, even if it meant keeping your crush on her father a secret.

It all came to a head about a month later. You were staying late in Steve’s office grading papers while he was reading over some scientific studies that he was going to go over in class that following week. You were reading over a specific paper, a girl who sat behind you in class, who giggled at Steve during the first day of class. She had a lot of typos in her paper, and you had a hard time following her methods and asked for Steves opinion. He got up from his desk and went over to the other side of his desk where you were sitting, hovering over you so his face was close to yours. You loved when he did this, being able to see the honey bits in his eyes or the way his eyebrows scrunch together when he was thinking really hard, or how he ran his tongue along his lips to wet them.

 For some reason the air in the room seems extra electrified, the tension being so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Your breath hitched as he got extra close to read a specific part in the paper, you could smell his cologne so clearly it was intoxicating. Steve turned to you to tell you what points to dock from her paper, but you didn’t hear a single word he was saying, it was all drowned out by the lust you felt for him. You think he could sense it too, his eyes kept flickering between your eyes and your lips.

Oh gods was this really happening?

You could see his face getting closer and closer to yours, you closed your eyes, bracing for impact. Your heart was beating faster than you ever thought humanly possible. And then, he kissed you. More intensely than you’d ever been kissed before, he started out soft, testing the waters. Slowly brushing his lips against yours, working up intensity until his tongue prodded your lips asking for an invitation in. The invitation happily accepted by you, you welcomed him in with your lips and sighed into the kiss, allowing your hand to grasp at the hairs at the nape of his neck. He held onto the side of your face like if he let go, you’d vanish. You kissed like this for a minute or two, lips melding together and tongues intertwining. He tasted like his spearmint gum that he chews sometimes, and his lips were softer than you ever thought humanly possible.

But as quickly as it started, it stopped. Steve de-tangled himself from your grip and stood back.

“Fuck, holy shit, I- Y/N I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have done that. I’m your teacher for Christ’s sake… FUCK!” he shouted.

You jump at the volume of his voice, you were not used to this Steve, or the tone he was using. He paced around the room for a few minutes, and you looked at your shoes embarrassed. Embarrassed because you weren’t sorry it happened. You had been dreaming for weeks about what his lips would feel like or what he'd taste like.

“I’m not Steve, you don’t need to be sorry because.. because I wanted it to happen, I’ll only be your student for a few more months and then after that we can do whatever we want,” you blurt out in desperation. Allowing the thoughts and dreams that hide in your head to spill out of your mouth. Steve sighs and sits back down in his chair, taking his glasses off his face and pinching the bridge of his nose with his middle finger and thumb.

“I- I think you should just go Y/N, I need to figure out what to do. This shouldn’t have happened and I’m sorry it did,” he murmurs.

His words act like daggers in your heart, stealing all the breath from your lungs. All the worst-case scenarios that played out in your head when you felt insecure, now playing out right in front of you. You were angry, you know he feels the same way but he’s too much of a coward to do anything about it.

“Fuck you Steve, fuck you!” you bite out through your teeth, not allowing the tears to flow from your eyes, just yet. He just rejected you, the last thing you wanted was for him to see you cry. You pack up all the things that had been splayed-out all over Steve’s desk, shoving them into your bookbag, and storming out of the room.

Before you’re even out of the building the tears start streaming down your face, you choke back sobs as you get into your car. You bury your head in your hands, your shoulders shaking from how hard you were crying. You can’t go home, you thought. Not to an empty apartment where it’s even more apparent just how alone you are.

You put the key into the ignition and go to the only other place in town that you can think of going to, Violet’s house. You prayed to any god that could hear you, that Violet was home, but Eddie was not. You did not want him to see you like this, especially over a guy. He’d heard all the pathetic stories of love that hadn’t worked out you didn’t need to add another to the list.

Somehow luck was on your side with this, Eddie’s car was not in the driveway, only Violets. You get out of the car, not even bothering to lock it and run up to the door and let yourself inside with the key Violet had given you after your first week in Hawkins. Tears still streaming down your face, you take in your new surroundings; Violet was sitting on the couch watching some dumb rom com and eating popcorn. She looks startled by the sudden intrusion and the state you were in. Your mascara all smudged, and you had tears streaming down your face.

“Y/N? What happened?” she coos. She gets off the couch and walks over to you, her face softens when she gets closer to you, her face now shrouded in worry. She pulls you fiercely into a hug and just lets you cry on her shoulder. Eventually she brings you over to the couch and she gets you to tell her the events that have unfolded. She listened intently while you told her about your professor and how you felt about him, and then about how he rejected you after a mind-blowing kiss. She held your hand the entire time, rubbing soothing circles into your hand.

Just as you had finished telling her what happened you heard the familiar jingle of the doorknob and the heavy boots that followed. You couldn’t look at him right now, not when you looked like this.

“Hey, hey party people, I didn’t know you were coming over tonight I shoulda got more beer from the store!” Eddie sang. The closer Eddie got to you he realized something was off and stopped in his tracks.

“Now’s not a good time dad,” Violet said, still focusing her attention on you.

“What happened? Y/N are you okay? Are you hurt? Did something happen with your car?” his questions flying by you a million miles a minute. Too exhausted to say anything you let Violet speak for you.

“She kissed a guy at school, and he rejected her,” Violet says as softly as she can.

“Y/N kissed a guy at school?” he said, you could hear an edge in his voice that made you flinch slightly.

“Yes, dad god did you have to repeat it? She’s been through enough tonight. Come Y/N lets go upstairs.” She says clearly annoyed with her dad’s lack of empathy.

You couldn’t bear to look at Eddie, so you allow Violet to usher you upstairs into her room. You two cuddle up in her bed, she lets you borrow some clothes to spend the night in and gives you a makeup wipe to wash the mascara and mostly cried off eyeliner off your face. You felt so taken care of by her, you remember you used to do this for her in Middle School when boys would be shitheads to her, it took a lot to break Violet, but boys are the worst.

At some point Violet fell asleep when you guys were listening to a true crime podcast, you felt your tummy grumble and slowly slipped out of her room to find a snack in the kitchen. You were so worked up after the incident with Steve you had forgotten to eat something more than a few handfuls of popcorn. Downstairs was more quiet than usual, you couldn’t hear soft metal music coming from the garage or Eddies light humming. You assumed maybe he had gone out for the night.

     Until he scared the shit out of you sitting at the kitchen table, silently. He looked upset, nursing a glass of amber liquid in his hand.

“Holy fuck you scared me, warn a woman, jeez!” you say, sounding a little more like your normal self when your alone with him. Usually, Eddie would retort with a smart-ass remark, but instead you got silence and a slight sad smile on his face. You sense he’s not in the mood, so you move farther into the kitchen to grab yourself an iced tea from the fridge and make yourself a sandwich.

It was usually never this awkward between the two of you, it broke your heart a bit. You just lost Steve and now it felt like you were losing Eddie too.

“Did he kiss you or did you kiss him?” he asked quietly.

You jumped a little not expecting him to speak. Trying to word things very carefully so there was no confusion.

“He kissed me and then I kissed him back, and then he broke off the kiss and told me to leave.” You sigh sadly and take a big gulp of your iced tea.

“Idiot.” he muttered under his breath.

You thought that’s what you heard but you didn’t know for certain.

“What?” you question.

“I said he’s an idiot.” he said a bit louder for you to hear clearly.

That made your aching heart flutter inside your chest. Men are impossible to read.

“Oh.” you murmur, not really sure what to say.

“He’s an idiot because I’d never let a girl like you go,” he says calmly.

You heart could beat outside of your chest right now, his words set your skin on fire. But you were simultaneously hit with overwhelming guilt. Violet. Your best friend. The one sleeping soundly upstairs who would never do anything to hurt you.

“Yeah, but there’s a lot more at stake here,” You say trying to tread lightly.

He abruptly pushes out of his chair and heads to the garage door. “Yeah I know.” he says, sounding a mix between disappointed and angry.

You could feel a new rush of tears welling in your eyes, not only did you lose Steve today, but you were going to lose Eddie too. Two out of your three safe spaces, gone in one day. You felt so small, like you were free falling and you couldn’t grab anything to save yourself.

“What do you want from me Eddie?” you say defeated, barely above a whisper.

Eddie stops at your words, opening up the door to the garage, so close to freedom. His eyes now soft, seeing the state of you. “Nothing sweetheart, I want nothing from you.”

You just nod at his words, slouching your shoulders trying to protect your broken heart. Willing yourself to accept the fact that you lost both of them today, and there’s nothing that you can do to change it. You look at the floor, watching your tears slowly cloud your vision. You just hoped he left the room before you start actually crying.

Then you hear the garage door shut and feel the last of your heart shatter with it. You look up to confirm what your heart already knew, that Eddie was gone.

But where a closed door should be, showed the outline of Eddie standing in front of a closed door. You tried to blink away the tears, to try and figure out if you were seeing things correctly. The look on Eddies face was between a mixture of pain and confliction, his fists squeezed at his sides.

“Fuck it.” is the last thing you hear him say before he takes long strides over to you in the kitchen. Now right in front of you he cradles your face in his hands and kisses you firmly. You wrap your arms around his neck, forcing him to stay. His calloused hands wiping away your tears. You moan into his touch, opening your mouth and allowing his tongue to dance with yours. He kisses you with such passion, showing you with actions he what couldn’t say with his words. You push him impossibly closer to you, willing the two of you to meld into one if that what it took, not letting him have the chance to leave you. He takes that as an invitation to lift you up and put you on the ledge of the kitchen counter. Your legs caging him in on either side of his body.

“Please don’t go.” you mutter wetly between kisses. Eddie moves from your mouth and leaves kisses from the edges of your wet eyes to a part on your neck that made your skin irrupt in goosebumps.

“Never baby, m not goin anywhere I promise.” he reassures nuzzling his nose against a sweet spot on your neck. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Feeling a little better than you did a minute ago. Kissing Eddie made every other rational thought cease to exist in your brain. Just you, and Eddie, your bodies moving in tandem with each other. Harmony.

No Pressure Tags: **Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list!**

@untitled74745 @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @lesservillain

@starkeysprincess @tlclick73 @cozyquinn @rowanswriting @succubusmunson @teddyeyeseddie @lofaewrites @chaoticmunsons @ryan-waddell11 @sweetblinginrose @paleidiot

[drdemonprince]

woof. your recent posts really resonate with me especially now that im making more gay and trans friends, im meeting so many cool nonmonogamous trans people that seem to have casual sex with basically all their nonmonogamous trans friends and like. its almost giving me a complex where if i think someone is cool and want to be friends with them, even if im not attracted to them, i have a perception that the only way to befriend them is to pursue them sexually. or that if they dont wanna fuck me when they fuck all their other trans friends that means there's something wrong with me (again even if i don't particularly want to fuck them!)... i love being trans and poly, and i love having more trans and poly people in my life, but sometimes i think about this one reddit comment where a dude said he noticed his gay friend had way more fun at straight bars than gay bars bc at straight bars he wasn't worrying about his appearance/body image/validation/sexual prospects

yeah honestly i get this so much and it's a very dismaying swirl of emotions to have. i don't like fucking friends. at all. it actively makes me feel unsafe and like i'm only useful to someone insofar as i'm satisfying a desire for them. it makes me feel more disposable. plus im insanely jealous if i have an actual emotional connection with someone i'm fucking so i wouldn't do well in a whole poly queer mish mosh of dear devoted friends who also sometimes bang. i would be plotting the downfall of the people i was most primed to view as a threat and sowing discord between people and shit. not good.

i also think it is a little fucking concerning when people only date/have sex as their sole way to make friends, and are only friends with people they want to fuck. this tends to create a very homogenous friend group that is heavily restricted based on desirability politics. it's also just really objectifying and unsustainable.

now i must say!! this is very much in the minority of poly people -- poly people are generally fucking AMAZING at being friends because even as just their buddy they treat hanging out with the same degree of intention and care as they would going on a date. they can hang! they want to go out and do things! they're more practiced in building a new intimacy of *any* kind than most monogamous people are.

it's just that there are some weird culty up their own ass bad boundaried polycules out there, in the same way there are abusive, codependent, jealous, miserable fucking monog couples.

but even tho most queer and poly people are more ascended than that, yeah, there is a weird unsettling constant self-evaluation that can happen in spaces where fucking almost anybody is theoretically on the table. some of that is a problem in how people treat one another, and some of that is just insecurity in between your own ears.

i get it fully. im hyper conscious of myself and how i imagine im being perceived and how people are seeing me when im out in queer spaces. and most of it is me being fully insane and making myself miserable based on nothing. because literally who cares who is attracted to me in that space and who isn't??? what matters is what i want in that moment, and my behavior, which i have control over. i should be able to just float around smiling at people and dancing and chit chatting and if someone is feeling my energy and we can talk, great, if they try to make it sexual when i dont want it to, i can just walk away. like it fully does not need to be that deep.

but it's a hard internal hurdle to overcome and every time someone hits on you, ignores you, misreads your identity, etc it can be used by your mind as fodder for The Narratives and The Insecurities and make things worse and it really has to be an intentional practice to not do that to yourself.

if you can bounce along carelessly in the straight club because you're not worrying about how people see you, you can bounce along carelessly in the queer club and not worry about how people see you. literally treat queer people the same way you'd treat straight people who seem perfectly fine but are not your problem and not a focus for you. you can stop trying to mind read the intentions of every queer person and stop sizing yourself up in their eyes and not worrying about who is fucking who and who is in love with who and who is secretly jealous but pretending not to be. and just. hang out. and feel things out. and exist in your own body and pay attention to what interests you and what you are experiencing rather than how they are experiencing you.

i say this as a reminder to myself!!

[kedreeva]

as someone who is ace and entering college years, how has your dating life been as an ace? what other struggles have there been that you have advice for? i dont know any aces or similar around me older or otherwise. thank you for your time and i hope you have an easy day!

Okay this will get a little long so I'll put it behind a cut

Honestly I'm probably not the best person to ask, since I never really...struggled? Not specifically with asexuality or with anything related to it. I can tell you my experiences, though, and you can decide if there's anything worthwhile to take away from it!

I grew up in a house run by science and math. I knew the prefix a- meant without/not and I knew there was heterosexual and bisexual and homosexual, so when young and, importantly, before really ever interacting with other queer folk, I went Ah ha, these are (prefix)(sexual) and so therefore I am asexual (without sexuality), and that was that. That was literally all the thought I gave to it. People had crushes on other people, I didn't have crushes on people, end of story. If, for some reason, I developed a crush on someone, I would deal with it then.

Maybeeeee midway through HS, a very good friend of mine asked me about it, and I said well, some people like everyone the same, and I dislike everyone the same. And she said well, then it sounds like you like everyone the same, that amount is just zero, so that seems like bisexual? (she didn't know the term asexual was an actual sexuality term either at that point, just the biological term for reproduction and, well, I could reproduce theoretically so couldn't be that) And I said well, alright then, and called myself bisexual for the next 6 or 7 years. THEN I found out asexuality is a sexuality not just a mode of reproduction and I said Ah Ha, I was Correct, and that was that again.

So I guess if I was offering advice it would be... you know you. Don't let someone else tell you about you if you think they're wrong. Make up a word if there isn't one. Use a new word if you find one that already exists and fits.

Also, that it's fine to not worry about it. Literally it's fine to just never think about it if you have better things to do. I think a lot of people get really wrapped up in finding the right label and/or "what happens if-" when like... you're not a canned good. You don't need a label. Worry about what-ifs when they come up, don't borrow anxiety if you can help it.

I dated a few people in HS, like... three people I think, and one Almost. One predatory mistake I thankfully recognized (HEY because I had older folks online I could talk to about it!) and got out of quickly, and one hot mess relationship that was a LOT of fun- my boyfriend, Sark, and then his ex-girlfriend, and then I stepped out so they could get back together, and then they said wait no, and invited me back in, and that went on for most of the end of HS, and nearly into college, when I stepped out again (and peacefully, I am still friends with both of them and I married Sark in the end). There was one guy whom I was always, perpetually, extremely fond of, and we hung out a lot, kissed once, and I think we would have had a lot of fun dating, but ultimately it was a near miss that became a fond memory, because we were never in the right place together. Sometimes life does that, and that's okay, too.

In college, I simply didn't date anyone. I had better things to do. I met my best friend, @idkfandomwhatever, online that year (and still talk to her almost daily, sometimes for hours, despite that we are on opposite sides of the world!!), and in person @mishapeep who was the best roomie I ever had (hi!!!!! i love you!!!). I had great friends, I went on a TON of adventures, worked a cool job where I had awesome coworkers, and just all around had a blast learning stuff and napping in sunbeams or on couches at the food court. A couple of guys made passes, and I turned them down because I just wasn't into it, and we remained friends. There was one coworker at my dispatch job that I got along with like a house on fire, and everyone ELSE thought we should be dating, but neither of us ever brought it up- I can't say why he didn't for sure, but I know I never brought it up because I was 85% sure he didn't swing for the right team to date me, which I ALSO never brought up until he found me on facebook years later to tell me about his husband running for local election somewhere. so. again, don't let anyone else tell you what to do lol there was ALSO another guy that I had NO interest in that spent a lot of time around me, but we mostly sat in my bunk watching Queer as Folk, which I KNOW was his first exposure to queer material. I never talked about queer stuff with him otherwise, but I heard from a mutual friend of ours that he's also happily married to his husband. Sometimes just being yourself, openly and without shame about it, does more than you think, even if it's not doing anything directly for you (but it is, it's good for you too).

SINCE college ended, I dated one guy I met through an online game and that was great in person briefly, but ultimately didn't work out because he couldn't be a nice person, another guy I met through the same online game and that didn't work out at ALL in person, and then I started hanging out with Sark and co again. I was on the phone with him driving somewhere, and I said something to the effect of someday you're gonna find a gf and she's not gonna want you to keep going on adventures with your ex, and we won't be able to talk anymore and I had a real recordscratch moment where I realized absolutely NOT on MY watch, I wanted that boy in my life forever actually, and we've been married now for... this is year 8.

I may have landed in a soft place, but I didn't seek it out. I just lived my life and didn't worry about my sexuality or about who I was or wasn't gonna date. When I DID date, I was up front about what I wanted from any of those relationships and part of the problem with the relationships that didn't work out was sometimes that I did not KNOW what I wanted, yet. But, it was IMPORTANT I think, that I gave the chances I did, because I did learn about myself and what I wanted. That's probably the hardest fucking thing to learn, that relationships sometimes happen not because they're likely to be permanent, but because it may be fun or be a way to learn what you do or don't want. Maybe alongside of that, the lesson that it's okay to go "hm, actually this is Not For Me" and exit peacefully whenever possible. But it's okay to give temporary things a shot and see how it goes, even knowing up front it may be temporary (honestly maybe that even takes some of the stress of it off? if you don't have to worry about it being forever, and you don't have to worry about "what if I never experience other things," and you don't worry so much about messing it up so it feels easier to take chances saying and doing stuff you might otherwise consider too risky to ask for etc).

I'm aware I'm lucky that things went pretty smoothly for my entire life so far, insofar as dating or sexuality is concerned. Part of that was definitely because even the worst of the people I dated weren't really all that bad of people. A lot of it was that I just didn't date if I didn't want to. I didn't care about sex, so I didn't have sex for the first time until a few years after college, and only one guy ever pushed the issue at all (the guy in HS I immediately dropped all contact with).

The thing is... I dated or nearly dated like ten people, flirted with countless others (because it's FUN), and the only one I still have regular contact with (not just occasional friendly hellos) is the one I kept at the end.

But the friends I made in college? I kept a lot of those. I still talk to several of my college friends on a regular basis. I have made other friends since, some of whom I talk to every day, some of whom have become irregular contacts I am still fond of. But those bonds are important and the ones you make with your friends from here out do have the potential to span at least huge chunks of your life, if not the entirety of it. If you only take away one thing from this little novel...take that knowledge.

also this has nothing to do with asexuality but for pete's sake find SOME kind of hobby club to be a part of, or make one if there isn't one, follow your stupidest instincts for adventure on occasion (like playing freeze tag frisbee in a lightning storm on the PAC lawn at 11pm until the campus cops show up to make you go home), and take at least one "fuck it this sounds fun" class. Mine was archery at 7am, the only early-morning class I ever took. Worth it, we were all TERRIBLE but god it was awesome.

Good luck out there!

[ghoulsgraveyard]

Wear Them. 1/3

Eddie has a nasty habit of stealing panties. What happens when he has to use them for their intended purposes? Content warnings: feminization (reader calls Eddie a girl), panty theft (obvi), subsequent panty wearing, perv!eddie, degradation (the fun kind), fem!reader, reader has a vagina, sub!eddie, dom!reader, slut shaming but also virgin shaming (it makes sense don’t worry), some light cock and ball torture (genital slapping), emotional hurt/comfort (I dont know how that happened it just did) aftercare!

A/N: I did this instead of catching up on my coursework <3 also! not all warning will apply in this chapter.

Eddie Munson knew he was a pervert. He did his best to hide it, wanting to keep the rumors of his sexual deviancy just that; rumors. He leaned into it a little bit, but in the same theatrical way he entertains all the rumors surrounding him, exaggerating to highlight the ridiculous nature of them, he just hoped no one would notice the way he seemed more cautious about this one than the others.

It was easy enough to hide at first. After all his …urges were more theoretical. It was about the concepts and scenarios for him, there was never a face or a name attached to the bodies in his fantasies. While this eased his guilt, he always felt sorta empty? Like the whole situation was hollow and unfinished (how ironic considering the state of his bed sheets)

But then he met you, and things got a lot harder, in more ways than one. You were hot. There was no way around it. But Eddie had dealt with hot people before, what killed him was that he interacted with you. A lot. Because not only were you hot, you were also funny, and nice to him, and you were a total dork like him. How insane is it that a hot girl who plays dnd not only exists but talks to him… willingly!

Still, in the beginning it wasn’t too bad, when you brushed up against him and he shivered he could blame it on his body’s reaction, it had nothing to do with him and nothing to do with you as an individual! Yep! Nothing at all. Just bodies being bodies. Until you didn’t have to touch him to get a reaction, hell you didn’t even have to look at him. Rolling dice wasn’t sexy until you did it, and suddenly he was aware of how your body shook with the motion of your hands, the way the recoil made your tits bounce just a little, the way your lips were pursed as you released the plastic and goddamnit Eddie’s hard at the table. Drinking beer wasn’t sexy until you were at a party, bottle in hand, Eddie was very aware of that hand, the curvature as it wrapped around the shape, how it looked when you raised the bottle to your lips, holy fuck your lips, pursed around the rim of the bottle, the way your throat moved as you swallowed, he nearly came when some dripped out of the sides and you wiped up the excess with your thumb, popping it in your mouth.

He had it bad for you. And it only got worse. Once you gave Eddie a scrunchie to hold his hair back during a test, which later that night he had pressed to his nose so he could smell your shampoo while he desperately fucked his hand. Another time when you were smoking some ash fell on your shirt, burning it, Eddie, ever the gentleman, offered you one of his shirts he didn’t expect for you to change in front of him, then the sight of you in his clothes? He almost popped the button off his jeans with how hard he got.

But the worst of it? The time you two were at skull rock, on top of a sizable boulder, you were wearing this short skirt, and you needed help down after getting higher than intended, and as he was helping you slide down to safety, your skirt rode up, giving Eddie just a flash of your black lacy panties. That was what pushed him off the deep end.

He felt awful, disgusting and horrible everytime you hung out at your house and he snatched a pair of your underwear from your laundry hamper when you went to the bathroom. He was your friend, you trusted him! How could he do this to you? How could he be such a bad boy, so dirty, you should punish him for being so bad and dirty, you should slap him and call him names and and somehow all of Eddie's guilt always morphed into lust. He was wrong and he was filthy but he couldn’t stop, or maybe it just felt too good. Either way your panties were Eddie's new drug of choice. He’d lick the crotch, thinking about how in a way it was an indirect kiss, he’d moan at the remaining taste. He’d shove them to his nose, smelling your musk as he fucked his hand, thinking about you sitting on his face. He’d shove them in his mouth pretending you put them there as a makeshift gag while you punished him. He’d wrap them around his cock and jerk off, desperately humping the fabric. Then he’d cum in them. 

He had this fantasy where after he soiled your panties, he’d find a way to get them back to you, and somehow you don’t notice his dried spend hardening the crotch of them and you’d put them on. He knows you would notice of course you would, but the thought of his cum against your cute pussy all day long with you clueless to the debauched state of your underwear made him delirious. Of course Eddie never returned your panties; he worked too hard to get them and would risk too much giving them back. He kept them in a shoebox under his bed. That same box that held the scrunchies you had given him, a travel size bottle of the lotion you use and some dirty pictures he managed to sneak of you. He was horrible, he disgusted himself, but not enough to change his behavior.

So he kept his habits hidden as best he could, he would be the best, most normal friend to you with zero ulterior motives as to why he preferred your house to his, he would never let you find out about that box under his bed.

You knew, of course. You weren’t an idiot. It was kind of cute? The way he thought he was being sneaky. The way he believed you didn’t notice the clicks of a camera while you changed, or how he thought you were oblivious to your missing panties and the convenient timing of when they disappear, or how he thought he was slick when eyeing your boobs. Of course you knew, you left the curtains open and lit the room well enough for him to take those pictures, you left your used underwear on top of your hamper, you chose low cut tops when you knew you were hanging out. You orchestrated every step and smiled to yourself at his naivety, he truly thought he was that good! But you were getting a bit bored, you kept baiting him but he never made a move. Guess you’d have to continue doing everything.

Heading over to Eddie's trailer at any time would give you a good shot at catching him masturbating, but a Friday night after hellfire? When he had spent the past few hours in close proximity with you, he had a perfect view at your chest and he could practically smell your shampoo from his throne, he was fired up and had the trailer to himself, what else was he going to do?

He was in the process of working himself up, taking it slower, he wanted to savor the experience, placing the shoebox on his bed he grabbed the newest pair of panties he had taken from you, he hadn’t gotten to play with this pair yet and could feel his lower belly burn with excitement. The underwear was a white lacy thong, it had a cut bow at the top, the crotch of the panties themselves were smaller than he usually likes but he could forgive it because the fabric tapered into a g-string. It was positively sinful and contrasted with the cute bows and innocent color deliciously. He grabbed the bottle of your lotion and applied a small amount to his right hand wanting it to last, as he rubbed it in he grabbed some lube. He muttered to himself trying to get lost in a fantasy but none really came to mind. Whatever, he can brainstorm while touching himself.

Lost in thought Eddie didn’t pick up on the sound of the spare key turning in the lock, he didn’t hear the click of the door shutting, with his eyes fluttering shut he didn’t see your shadow in his hallway, and he didn’t hear the whine of his door opening. He did, however, hear you clear your throat. His eyes shot open in terror, dread filled him as he took in your frame, standing in his room, looking directly at him. He scrambled to cover himself but he knew it was too late, you had seen him. The damage was done. He wanted to disappear. This was the nightmare scenario he would give anything for the earth to swallow him whole. The ringing in his ears was so loud, but your voice cut through it with four words that filled him with shame“whatcha got there Eddie?” your tone was taunting, knowing. You wanted him to admit it. Eddie’s eyes were wide, his face flushed in shame and his mouth gaping, opening and closing. “Well?” you continued. Eddie whimpered in shame then found his voice “I-I'm so unbelievably sorry oh my god I hate myself for doing this I just- I can’t- there's no excuses and I know that what I've done is unforgivable I just- I'm so so sorry- I can’t- I” his voice shook the whole time, then broke with the dam in his eyes, fat tears rolled down his cheeks “I'm so sorry” he gasped and sobbed, shivering and repeating how sorry he was.

This was not how you expected him to react. In your mind Eddie would’ve paused then kept going and you would work from there. You realize now how much of his cockyness and theatrics were a farce. You felt terrible watching him sob and shiver on his bed. “Oh baby” you sat on the bed and hushed him “baby I'm not mad it’s okay” you cooed at him, pulling him closer to you “please don’t cry for me baby I didn’t mean to hurt you” you lightly rocked him back and forth as you tried to soothe him, he hiccuped in your arms, then looked up at you with wide wet eyes “y-you’re not?” his voice was so small and scared you just melted “no sweetie I'm not mad at all, I'm sorry for making you sad little one” it didn’t matter that Eddie was both taller and older than you, the way you spoke so softly to him and how you held him so gently he glowed at the name, he sniffled “not sad” you cocked your head, he continued “not sad, just embarrassed” he mumbled. That eased your fears, he was okay, just spooked. “Eddie you don’t need to be embarrassed” at that he sat up and wiped his face “I find it very hard to believe that I'm not supposed to be embarrassed after being walked in on by you while I was masturbating with your panties next to a box full of incriminating evidence that I'm a stalker pervert creep.” he choked up again, after you just stopped him from crying! 

Trying to deescalate again you moved to follow him on the other side of the bed, and you held his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you “Eddie I need you to believe me when I say that it’s okay. I'm not mad at you, and you shouldn’t be embarrassed” he opens his mouth to cut you off but you silence him “don’t talk over me. I'm about to explain a lot and I need you to listen to me and hear me, okay baby?” he nodded slowly “I've known. The whole time. Before the whole time actually.” his eyes widened in panic “ah ah ah! Listen to me. I've known even before you started that collection because I'm the one who set it up, okay?” he furrowed his eyebrows, thoroughly confused “I'm smart Eddie, or at the very least I spend a lot of time thinking about you. So I noticed pretty quick. I started wearing lower cut tops after I noticed you staring. I let you borrow my polaroid and left my curtains open while changing, I gave you scrunchies despite seeing the hair tie on your wrist, and let me let you in on something here: A girl doesn’t leave her used panties in plain sight while having a boy over unless she wants him to see them, and I didn’t leave the room thinking you wouldn’t grab them. Eddie none of this has been a coincidence.”

Instead of feeling better, Eddie just felt worse at this revelation, dread filling him as he moved back from you, fear grasping him. “So then why did you do it?” he whispered. You were confused, you thought you made it pretty clear “what?” you wanted clarification. Eddie continued, voice rising in volume “why did you do it? Was this like an elaborate prank? You’re gonna tell the whole town now how Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson is also a sexual deviant? Is that it? Or maybe it’s not that maybe this was just funny to you? Was that it? Were you just stringing me along as a joke?” he had never felt more vulnerable in his life. 

His greatest fears laid out in his nightmare scenario while he was naked under the eyes of the girl he was in love with. You felt a hurt pang in your chest, Eddie had been the butt of so many jokes he can’t comprehend a situation where someone wants him. “Eddie, that’s not it at all. I- well I don’t really know how to say this but I like you. Like a lot” he whipped around to look at you “this isn’t funny.” you held his face “I'm not joking.” his face was smooshed in your hands and his big eyes were full of wonder “Eddie I like you so much I didn’t even consider the possibility of you not knowing or you thinking I don’t want you. Because I do. I want you so much it makes me crazy. I am so attracted to you it’s not even funny” Eddie was bewildered “wait, what?” you smiled “you’re so unbelievably sexy I don’t even know what to do with myself eddie” he shook his head “no, no way, there’s no way you like me” but despite his words the small smile on his face indicated a bit of hope, so you kept going “oh I'm crazy about you, you’re all I think about. However much you got off on the things I gave you, I got off like, twice as much at the thought of you using them” he laughed “I'm serious ed! I would think about every night when I touched myself, the idea of you in your bed getting off to me? I was a whining wreck in my bed before I could even get my pants off" Eddie whimpered at the thought “y’know I would pick them out too. Whenever you came by, the day before I would pick out a pair I thought you would like the most” Eddie swallowed hard “I- I did. Like them I mean. Um a lot, I uh like them a lot you did a uh good job picking them because I- yeah. I really really uh liked them all” he was flustered. It was adorable. 

You started moving towards him, slinking like a predator towards prey “I'm glad you liked them baby. I would think about you using them all the time. I would look at your hands when you talked – you're so expressive baby, always talking with you hands– and I would think about what your hands looked like holding my panties, or how your fist would look wrapped around your cock.” he whined high in his throat as you played with his hands “then I would look right at your lips while you were talking and I thought about what your face would look like as you came, or how swollen your lips would get, what you would sound like in bed. You wanna know what I thought about the most though baby?” he nodded quickly, you leaned in, lips brushing his ear “I thought a lot about what I would do if I had you cornered caught in the act with my panties. And what I would do to you with them.” you pulled back, elaborating “I'm sure you’ve done all the standard stuff, sniffing them, rubbing yourself on them, licking them, shoving them in your mouth, and that’s all well and hot but what I think is sexiest about you and my panties?” you leaned in close to him, lips brushing his, nervous to reveal your most lustful fantasy “the intended use.” you whisper against him. 

Eddie has no idea what the fuck that means. He can’t think he can barely breathe, he crushes your lips against his instead. It was desperate and sloppy and messy, with too much tongue and too much spit and too much everything but it was Eddie's first kiss. And it wasn’t enough. You straddled him, grabbing and pulling his hair, he moaned at the feeling “you like that baby? You like how I pull your hair and move you around for me? You’re real pretty when you go just where I put you” Eddie keened at the praise, back arching up as you pulled away from him grabbing the discarded underwear from earlier" I really like this pair baby, it’s real nice don't you think?” you said, holding them up against you, Eddie nodded quickly “uh-uh-huh! Real nice really -really pretty like em a lot” you smiled at how eager he was “I like em a lot too baby, they’re so pretty with the lace and the bows, I'm almost sad I won't get to wear them again.” Eddie was immediately confused. “wha-why not?” you smiled at him sweetly “because Eddie, you’re gonna stretch ‘em out too much for me to wear” he cocked his head at you.

You flicked the panties at his chest “you wanted them so bad. Wear them.”

part two out now!

[teddykaczynski]

recently i was discussing sexuality on the land with a new friend and she said that she believed sexuality is more fluid than people think, something to that affect, and i at first wholeheartedly disagreed because that kind of thinking is like, not great for homosexuals historically and in the present day. but she clarified that she meant more in the.... theres more "straight" people that are actually bi way which i do think is true. shes questioning and like, unsure of herself if shes les or bi and somehow this led to me saying how when ive heard some bisexual women talk about their life, they thought they were lesbians for much of it until meeting a man that they were attracted to and in many of these cases, married. and how this feels like a horror story to me, not for them, but like on a personal level. partially because its been told to me that way. like, when i was discussing my reasons for going off T during my first detransition with my old gender therapist i said that i was now beginning to believe i was a lesbian. and she said that she used to think that too but then she met her husband and that maybe thatll happen to me someday!!! which is. not a pleasant thought for me. it is a horror story. one of the biggest reasons i... really dont want that to happen is because it would feel like such a betrayal of my younger self. my 18 year old self who fought and tried so hard to be into penis who felt that that would solve all my problems and make me No Longer Evil and Condemned to the point of a mental breakdown and suicide attempt- if my 26, 38, 50, year old self, somehow fucking met a man i was into, she would have suffered for literally nothing. and i really believe i am a homosexual. but it scares me that i might not be. but, ive discussed this with bi friends who said that the women who realized later in life, probably always had more signs and were just in denial with themselves. for various reasons. i dont think im explaining how she said it right but it was reassuring that U__U ok well thats not my experience. anyway new friend asked if i thought like a woman who had only ever been into women but then met a guy she fell in love was a lesbian but had just found the One Man for her and i said no she was always bisexual and its unlikely that was the one man like i can imagine a woman who was literally only attracted to one man in her life but its not about the specific dude its about that hes male. like suzy could meet mike and like him but if suzy met larry instead... i think im making sense. like i dont believe theres a ssa women out there who only has the potential to be into one specific dude like as the one exception i guess im saying its not an exception theoretically thats the one man she met but hes still a man. anyway.

[iravinirattu]

ik im late but im playing through kaveh's hangout event and. the haikaveh brainrot is real

since these losers can't do it themselves i am here to offer my translation services ‼️

al haitham you liar. we are in a library using our indoor voices you did NOT hear us.

and even if you did mr. "i hate small talk" why'd u walk over hmm?? hmm??

"dont mind if i ignore you, i've got my earphones in" <- applies to everyone except kaveh

"okay now that i've gotten him distracted tell me what's wrong so i can discreetly fix it"

mans literally sent kaveh away to boost his confidence a bit + find out if he was okay.

"you annoted those books with such long and beautiful notes that eveyone hated lolol anyways check out those shelfs where there's a book with someone appreciating ur notes"

i can't get over how many exceptions al haitham makes for kaveh. he's not heartless and cruel in the way i often see him portrayed... but at the same time his entire demeanor is "i respect you as a person but won't go out of my way to do things for you unless it benefits me"

like he's one of the only characters who isn't super super close with the traveler, at least that's how i see it in the voicelines! he respects them as a friend, would consider doing things for them if they asked, but that's about it really!

but KAVEH. for someone who enjoys a peaceful life and has such a rational and efficient way of working it theoretically makes no sense for him to do all the things he does for kaveh.

like sure "maybe the cheering up kaveh is just to avoid having to deal with him drunk later", but that's too roundabout of a demeanor to be al haitham's style. plus, if he really didn't want to deal with a drunk kaveh, he could just kick him out.

but he doesn't because he cares, and kaveh does not understand that because he has created a vision of what he thinks al haitham is in his head, and in that vision he, kaveh, has no value so why would haitham have him around?? clearly he's got ulterior motives.

and they won't move further until kaveh lets go of that vision, and he can only do that if he truly realises his own worth, and until then haitham's gonna have to keep pushing him towards that from the shadows.

"he overworks himself, it's not healthy. he forgets the practicality of his ideals when he starts something, thinking he can pull through it, but reality hits him halfway. he can keep his ideals, that's fine, but i wish he was a bit more realistic about them."

"and despite all of the above, despite wanting to uphold his artistic integrity, he still puts everyone's needs before his own."

"his approach is too contradictory, and hence people don't see his talent. there are those who's resolve is so brash they are seen as confident and unshakable; and yet he who is more talented than them all falls behind because he's so easy to take advantage of."

al haitham taught me two new words today lol

irascible - someone with a quick temper

paragon - something viewed as a standard

"if he wants things to change he needs to find a balance between compromise and resolve. there is no way to please everyone, but instead of accepting this, he thinks he can nullify it if he takes all the burden instead."

kaveh's altruism stems from his own self-hatred, moreso than his desire to help others. and while doing a good deed puts a smile on his face, the melancholy guilt that trips him when he doesn't is far greater.

"if they are his ideals then i have no right to say anything about them. but he hurts himself so much as a result of that and i wish he would love himself a bit more."

al haitham has a great deal of respect for kaveh, not just as a scholar but as a person. and it's hard watching someone like that dig their own grave, and there's nothing you can do but wait in the sidelines, because they won't believe anything you say.

al haitham is constantly bickering with kaveh to get him to feel a little, challenge his ideals, find a way to make them work without sacrificing himself in return.

"at this poing talking to him is no use, he's convinced himself that his life only has purpose if it's in the hands of others. all people face hardships in life, but he seems to believe he deserves all he gets and more"

and then after kaveh is back he gives him space to talk about things that make him happy, and more importantly, appreciate himself.

how to tell kaveh i want to listen to his silly lil rants without sounding like a sap - al haitham's brain, probably

al haitham knowing all of kaveh's little buttons, and pressing the right ones after determining his mood, so he can show kaveh he loves him but still sound like a bitch.

"you did so well. i am so proud, and i hope you are proud of yourself too."

and sometimes he does click the wrong one, but then immediately goes back on it, becomes soft(er than usual), offers reassurance, changes the topic, and so on

we saw this in the parade of providence event, when kaveh got legitimately upset at one of haitham's remarks and he immediately went into I HAVE UPSET MY BF recovery mode.

and what i love the most in all this is KAVEH'S DUMBASS IS SO OBLIVIOUS TO THIS LMAOOO

but also it's sad because the reason he's oblivious is because he doesn't think he's worth being cared for like that.

haikaveh's whole vibe is "i love you, but i'd much rather you love yourself first" and "i'm your one and only, your only exception, the one you'd break all your rules for" and i love it.

[realhumanithink]

coming back online to share to the world my list of evan things. if you relate to most these things i title you Evan Rosier Kin

note: all of these are headcanons and may not align with how you perceive evan. most of these are inspired by like tiktoks and stuff, but otherwise its mostly things based on me because i literally remind myself of evan so much

another note: phrasing of these may be harsh!! im not targetting anyone fyi, and i dont mean harm, but i wrote most of these in a fit of self-hatred and when i reread them, i realised "hey, this sounds like evan lol" so i brushed it up a bit, but there might still be harsh wording and accusations

last note!!!: i have no fucking personality and im using this to self-reflect so my fault lmao

wants to be an overachiever, a hard worker, but in reality is just a gifted kid who hasn't fully burned out and is too lazy to actually work hard.

30000 different genres of songs on spotify. wonders if that means you have no personality.

sometimes wonders if people would miss you when you’re gone. doesn't think so.

knows 6 different languages, not good at any.

can't take criticism.

ambiverted. wonders if this means you have no personality.

likes a style, but isn't sure you would look good in it.

supposed ‘smart and nice’ kid, but that's who you were 4 years ago. people still hold the same view of you. 

high standards. you've been brainwashed into thinking u can meet them but sometimes, u aren't so sure.

covers the parts of your face u dont like with hair. bonus points if it's a regular ass haircut like a fringe and your parents hate it.

gets overly clingy in friendships. not like physically clingy but mentally?? if you get me

wanna be insomniac. thing is, it just takes you a bit longer to fall asleep.

fluctuating confidence levels

feels like a second choice, always.

cringe culture holds you back from enjoying what you want to enjoy.

the people around you don't seem to care as much as you do. whenever you succeed, you look back and no one is cheering like you always do. sometimes, it feels like you are average or lower, but the people you are compared to are simply even lower and that's why you are supposedly ‘good’.

*does well* “duh, *** is always so good. they don't deserve praise” *doesn't do well or actually just does average* “*** DIDNT DO WELL OHHHH”.

when someone compliments you, you feel pressured to uphold their standard and wonder how long it'll take till they realise you arent so good.

EXAMPLE because my wording is shit: someone told me i was funny and since then ive been scared to text him because i was like 'oh fuk what if when i talk to him next im not funny enough'

deathly afraid of being cheesy/cliche. this holds you back from showing much affection, especially romantic.

shoes are worn half to death.

your answer to theoretical questions is always ‘depends’. wonders if that means-

everyone thinks your friends ‘influence’ you, but really you’re as whack as them, just not as obvious.

a group of people you hate significantly less than everyone else, and one person you love

[nabbit-unmasked]

Thinking about when time when I was in Reddit therian and otherkin communities.

Once time, I made a google slides presentation for myself with positivity about being C.A.R. kin, and every single being supported me except this one exclusionist guy. He called me controversial and had a whole argument with me in the comments.

He was very strict about who he saw as a valid otherkin and gatekeeped others to hell and back. It wasn't just with me and being an African nation, but he pretty much nitpicked everyone he saw. If there was anything about them that didn't match his perfect standard of being an 100% involuntary, monokin/very few kin, non-physical, completely serious, not seeking validation, mythical creature otherkin, he found a way to argue with you and tell you what he thought you should be. This man was in his 20s and talking to a bunch of experimental/new-to-kin teenagers about this stuff, mind you.

Later on, my and a fellow otherkin friend messaged a user that he was, once again, gatekeeping and invalidating. I believe it was because they were original species kin, but I'm not quite sure. Either way, they reported him and he was banned the next day (thank goodness).

When I was in Reddit spaces, this wasn't all that uncommon either. He was just a more extreme example. People did make fun of "tumblr kins", which I believe was a satirical/troll movement a couple years back that made fun of bizzare kintypes and experiences. But the same idea still stuck; sometimes, tumblr was known as the place with a bunch of fakers and confused teens with 50+ kintypes, which is extremely indicative of "faking" in reddit spaces.

I admit that I partook in it gatekeeping, too. Specifically in therian spaces: it was extremely common for young & new therians to come in and ask if they were a valid therian, and a few people would reply and tell them the usual spiel: "as long as you aren't controlling it and you dont think you're physically an animal and you identify as not with, then yes!!!!"

When I found the r/alterhuman subreddit instead of other big kin subreddits, I totally changed my views on who counted as a "real therian/otherkin/whatever-else-kin". If you identify as it, you are it, and only you can decide that for yourself. It's no one else's decision, because they aren't in your mind.

That's when I left Reddit and came over here.

I realized something that could have been useful years ago when I was experiencing impostor syndrome over my plurality.

If you think you're faking, what's the reason for that? Is it because you feel like you subconsciously chose to be the way you are? Is it because you got hyperfixated on the community you're in? Is it because you dont experience any of the common or "more serious" traits of your identity?

Chances are, whatever it is that's making you feel that way is actually valid. Gatekeepers will try to shape their communities into the perfect mold that their brain sees them as, or as the people around them have made it out to seem. In reality, the ideal community is completely subjective and imaginary. There is no one, no force, no ideology that can stop you from identifying the way you do. It's entirely mental, individual, and personal. Theoretically, I could put on any label that I wanted to right now, and no one but myself could stop me.

After I realized I could apply that to myself, I understood most of my imposter syndrome came from the fact that my autism clung to communities and made me subconsciously gravitate to them due to hyperfixation. I always tried to find reasons why that couldn't be true, but I realized I didn't have to do that anymore. I accepted that was essentially what was happening. If someone did develop their identity, subconsciously or not, due to a hyperfixation, that was valid. When I built my own moral compass and stopped gatekeeping others, I was then able to stop gatekeeping my own self.

[spyroz]

i dont reblog those posts about how hard it is to have moralizing ocd in online spaces, even though i deeply resonate with them. ironically, i can only talk to 2 people about my ocd, because one of my obsessions is that other people will assume im using my mental health as a shield against criticism if i talk about it. therefore, if i talk about my ocd in any circumstance, my brain believes that i'm already doing something immoral

basically, most of my obsessions resolve around people assuming bad faith of me or that i'm somehow secretly an irredeemably bad person, no matter how hard i try to be good. i am a bad person if i dont reblog posts about serious topics, spend every waking moment thinking about extremely serious topics, or make any social mistakes whatsoever (which is scary because i'm also autistic). i believe that i am irredeemable if i make a small mistake, and i often think all my friends are waiting for me to make a mistake so that they can attack me, and that my life will be ruined if i fuck up. im constantly scanning all my interests (and people i know) for the tiniest imperfections (far beyond healthy amounts of criticism in your interests) out of fear that liking anything or anyone makes me a horrible person. if you dont take a side on this lgbt label discourse, then youre a bigot! im ALWAYS mentally preparing responses and apologies to totally theoretical situations of people being upset with me. i have intrusive thoughts about doing the immoral things that scare me most.

the problem is, *talking about* any of these thoughts invites people who will actually bad faith me. "if youre so worried about this stuff, then you must have something to hide! you just want to avoid accountability!" they make your obsession a reality by accusing you of the exact thing you fear most. none of these thoughts are reasonable or realistic, and i know that. i know that i'm mentally ill. i know logically that i'm as good a person as anyone else. when i actually do make a mistake, i stay level-headed and apologize, acknowledge what i did wrong, and change my behavior

but there is a large part of me that does not want to heal from my ocd, because i believe constant self-monitoring and self-critique is the only thing preventing me from becoming a horrible person

there is nothing i want more in this world than to be a good altruistic human being who is capable of growth, but spending weeks trapped in thought loops analyzing all my behaviors for the smallest signs of a mistake will not help me be a better person. it makes me a worse friend. it drains my energy so that i dont have the mental capacity to actually spend time being kind to others. i reread this post many times while writing it to make sure i didnt accidentally write 6 different slurs. but i can't figure out how to heal. what the fuck do i do about this

this is incredibly hard for me to write about. i'm fighting the urge to delete this post as you read it. i cant stress how debilitating this is for me, it is the biggest hurdle in my life and it sucks away days worth of my time and energy. i will become trapped in thought-loops THE SECOND im not kept sufficiently busy and stimulated by tv/music/my bf/being out of the house somewhere/etc. so much of my life is wasted wanting to be good, that i dont get a chance to actually live the life of a good person

i really hope this post resonates with someone. ive only met a few other people who have this particular kind of ocd, and its extremely isolating. but i want to try to heal from it, and i know the first step to healing is talking about it

[madeup-community-episodes]

Theoretics of Bisexual Lighting

Background: The Dean rents out a gaudy hotel venue for a Greendale faculty only dance and NOTHING ELSE THIS WAS ALWAYS HIS PLAN (lying). Its all nicely decorated and he even got some LED lighting, specifically bisexual lighting, which is pointed out by Abed. A-Plot: Troy and Abed decide to go together as each others platonic dates, but the atmosphere gets Troy REALLY thinking about his and Abed's relationship. (More under the cut)

He looks back and sees that for the past 6+ years he has always been with him, save the rare moments they fought. Troy starts to think about spending the rest of his life with Abed, but the thing is he doesn't want to stress Abed out with anything romantic, he doesn't even know if this feeling IS romance, but he also doesn't think its platonic. Abed notices Troy is avoiding talking to him and asks if he wants to go, but Troy says nothings wrong. Throughout the night Troy gets more and more caught up in trying to categorizes his feelings of Abed into romantic or platonic or even familial. Later on in the night Troy confess he loves Abed and wants to kiss and all that with him but still doesn't know what he wants call it, and Abed's just kinda like 'I mean we could make something up, just for us', which helps Troy a LOT and yeah they kiss under the bisexual lighting and to the song 'Somewhere out there' by Linda Ronstadt :] B-Plot: Jeff and Duncan, the night before, decide to stay the night at the hotel to treat themselves, in separate rooms. HOWEVER, the hotel had a system glitch so Duncan's booked room was given to someone else. Jeff lets him stay in his room. That room happens to be a 'Honeymoon suite' because Jeff wanted to treat himself okay? So first off, they take a name in the middle of the day because the room situation kept them up until late in the night, but someone forgot to set an alarm and they end up missing one hour of the dance. THEN Jeff takes an inordinate amount of time in the shower, missing 30 more minutes of the dance. After THAT Duncan can't find the suit top he was going to wear, only realizing he forgot it at home, which loses them another hour. and after more comedic shenanigans ('dont you dare wear that tie, I am NOT matching with you' 'its the only one I brought Ian.' 'idc'), end up missing 4 hours of the dance, Jeff tries to go down without him- he really doesn't know why he didn't while he was looking for the jacket- but the lock on the door breaks and they're locked in and instead of yknow, calling the front desk, they argue about it. Duncan's like 'Why the hell didnt you just go without me?' and Jeffs like 'maybe I like being around you??' and Ians like 'bullshit, you started ignoring me after I didnt get you the test answers' Jeff is all like 'jesus christ, I know I sucked back then but MAYBE im a different person now and want to actually put in effort to be friends again' and Ians like 'Well-' but his ankle does that thing where it just twists while he's pacing around and he falls HARD into the lighting system of the room and, through the divine power of comedy tropes, turns on the Honeymoon Suite bisexual lighting and jazz music. Jeff goes over to him to check if he's okay and yknow after a heart to heart like that (pretend the dialogue was more emotional Im not good at writing emotional dialogue), emotions are racing and they are looking into eachothers eyes all deep and shit and and gay kiss and make out for the first time. First time SOBER, that is C-Plot: Annie meets one of the caterer girls and she tries so hard to get her number because hoooolllly shit she was so pretty omg. She embarrasses herself a lot and at some point just walks away to the bathroom to cry. Britta finds her and is like 'girl you dont have to bust your ass for anyone just go and ask the world wont explode i prommy' and so Annie works up the courage, goes over shaking and lands the girls number. :]

Extra: The dean rented the venue originally for a furcon but that fell thorough and it was a LOT of money to just waste.