#if. you look at their prices. and go. 'hey fanny. what the fuck.'

[orcelito]

Re-release of the Badlands Rumble vash & wolfwood figurines like all my prayers have been answered

Won't be out until June apparently but I've been here for over half a year & The Interest hasn't abated, I'll be here then too.

Vashwood figurines.........🫣🥺🕺

[andoqin]

Sisyphus: The Myth Ep 1- A Dissection

Okay, so I’ve had some time to process what I subjected myself to today, so I’ve decided to list everything in episode 1 that is just completely insane and an example of how Not To Do it. 

I’m not an expert on Film Theory, but i’ve watched a shitton of media, plus I watch a lot of Youtube Video essays, so clearly I’m half

The episode starts off okay enough even if we get a weird exposition dump and “tense” parting scene between a father and daughter. 

We start in what presumably is the time travel terminal where people stand around in pyjamas waiting to get through.

Okay, fairly interesting if unspectacular but I’m guessing that’s the point, this is now an industry. We zoom in and get this line that made me laugh, because well...

a) humans are living creatures and b) the amount of microbial organisms on human skin is estimated to be at hundreds of billions, or more. And this kind of time travel/teleportation is always hinky because well if you think about it, how does that even work without getting into The Fly territory. I’m willing to cut this drama some slack here and maybe it’s an awkward translation besides. 

This gets... exceedingly long, but if you want a (too) in-depth summary of what happens in ep 1 and why it doesn’t work (for me) read on :D.

But then the real trouble starts, because PSH’s dad (I’m not bothering to learn the character names) says he’s not going with her and this is apparently very sudden. He then makes her repeat some lines that are supposed to create tension? Be exposition? Idk.

“Don’t trust anyone.” 

“Don’t get involved with [CSW]’s character.”

PSH get’s teary eyed, because her dad is not coming with her, but the problem with scenes like these is: I don’t know either of them and do not have an emotional connection to their parting. Sure, it tells us something about PSH (she likes her dad and is worried about him) but I also don’t know how important her dad is going to be down the line. So when PSH asks about her mom and what if her mom dies and her dad just replies everyone dies at some point I’m a bit weirded out, but not to the point where I necessarily want to know more. 

We then smashcut to PSH waking up in a world that’s more similar to ours and she does what her dad told her to do. She grabs her (very inconvenient) suitcase and runs along the tracks she woke up next to. We see that she is somewhat surprised by the running trains and also hardy enough to track on despite bleeding feet. 

Alas, creepy people in gas-masks with guns and drones are waiting for her, so she runs even harder and after some near misses (they are able to track her by some sort of radiation meter) makes it to safety. 

On top of a train car that the TWO DOZEN PEOPLE WITH GUNS AND DRONES are too stupid to check apparently. Clearly if she’s not under the train car, the detecting devices must be mistaken. So she just chills on top of the train car, sitting on her suitcase and those goons trundle off after 5 minutes presumably like they’re Assassin’s Creed Enemy NPCs.

Now we get introduced to CSW in the most insane scene i’ve ever witnessed. Honestly. 

He is just ~chilling in 1st class in an airplane, filming a douche who is rude to the plane staff and epically owning him because he’s So Smart.

First of all, I don’t know what that has to do with soggy noodles(which the other asshole complained about), since by that measure the noodles should be *undercooked* (lower boiling point means longer cooking time after all) and secondly good lord I already hate this guy. He then proceeds to Epically Own (tm) with a convenient Forbes (sorry “Eorbes”) Magazine that he is on the cover of and flirts with the plane hostess. 

So right off the bat, our impressions of CSW are supposed to be: He’s Cool (look at his hoodie and general bearing), he’s Smart (debatable), he’s nice to The Help (I guess???) stands up to bullies, and most importantly he’s fucking rich. I guess we’re also supposed to get the impression that he’s arrogant, maybe a bit of an asshole, but still cool and everything. 

If this had been where the scene had stopped I would have rolled my eyes and then just continued on watching. But no, the writers thought: “Schooling some sexist rich asshole isn’t enough to show off how Cool and Smart and Cocky our main character is. Also he likes the ladies.” Look at him, he’s Tony Stark only from South Korea!!!

So shortly after he sits down, and we have the first moment with CSW where he connected with me emotionally (he sees the ghost of his dead brother and the way he says “because ... you’re dead.” and I thought OOOH this I can work with), the cockpit windshield is hit by what looks to be a suitcase (DUN DUN DUUUN) and something crashes into one of the engines, causing it to explode and catch fire. 

The pilot is knocked out and unconscious and even the co-pilot loses consciousness (after conveniently unlocking the cockpit lock). CSW is the only one who goes to check on the pilots, having grabbed a fanny pack from his onboard luggage and quickly assessing the situation he revives the copilot and welds the hole in the windshield shut with some ducttape out of his fannypack and a plastic notepad. IT’S VERY EFFECTIVE! They did it in WW2, or so CSW tells us so you know it’s true.

I’m not sure that ‘s how plane windshields and duct tape and plastic notepad thingies work, but well the plane is still in freefall we have more important things to worry about :).

The electrics are all on the fritz, the copilot cannot get control of the plane and so CSW takes a seat in the captains chair (having foisted the captain out of it, not even he is so crass to sit on some unconscious dude’s lap i guess) and quickly calculates that they have 3 min and 30 secs for CSW to restart the electronics before the plane crashes. So he hands the co-pilot HIS PHONE with a timer on it for 3.5 minutes so the co-pilot can tell him when 30 seconds have passed. Instead of idk, contacting Air Traffic Control or ANYONE he just sits there and lets his big boy brain work. 

After 30 seconds he has an idea, because he’s Tony Stark-ing it up like crazy now and can just figure out the electronics of a plane cockpit in 30 seconds, but guess what. HIS PHONE RINGS. AND HE ANSWERS IT, because he’s devil-may-care and “haha look at this, friend, i’m in the cockpit of a crashing plane we have 2 minutes before i’m dead.”

Said friend is calling him from the board meeting of CSWs company, bc of course the board is ~unhappy with CSWs antics (I gotta say I can’t blame them) and the friend doesn’t believe it at first, when he says he’s in a crashing plane, but checks on the news to see it’s true. 

I ... I don’t think news work like that, we’ve gone 5 minutes from the initial troubles till now, there won’t be news reports all over the media yet. THEY’RE NOT EVEN TALKING TO AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL YET. Hell he even tells his friend to call 119 or the airport for help. I just... I’m very forgiving of a lot of things in a drama when it comes to writing. I’m willing to ignore obvious blindspots in a narrative, if I think the narrative is strong enough to support whatever it’s trying to say. At this point what could calling the police or the airport do, they have like 90 seconds left...

I don’t know what the writers are trying to tell me with this scene though? It’s so stupid, so unrealistic and CSW is so unpleasant and weird in it, because he tells his friend that he has to confess to taking out the friend’s college girlfriend on a date while they were still together. 

Well since the drama is longer than one ep, they do make it out alive, but the fact that the co-pilot managed to safely LAND the plane (which is insane to me) gets skipped over and we just get news snippets that herald CSW as a hero who singlehandedly saved the planes passengers. 

We then get to see him in his natural habitat “convalescing” in his giant apartment where he is being showered with gifts by worshippers basically. He continues to be an asshole, but his friend tells him, one more stunt and the board will kick him. 

The board will kick the guy who just saved a plane full of lives????? Yeah right, I’m sorry but that’s just fucking stupid from the writers. Why would anyone do that, even if the board hates him, kicking him now, when he’s literally a national hero would be the worst thing they could do for the stock prices. It’s only here so the writers can shoehorn in that CSW is close to OD-ing on pharmaceuticals and that the board wants to monitor his therapy and they have a way of “forcing” him to comply. 

Also he has what looks to be a dental x-ray machine next to his bed. Someone correct me if I’m wrong but lol what’s up with these set design choices. 

His friend tells him to go to fucking therapy or else and the next scene he is actually at a therapist. 

Who’s his ex-girlfriend (they have a whole tangent about that).

Who writes a report about his therapy to the board. 

But hey at least the therapy gets us a flashback of the last time he saw his brother. Big surprise he was an asshole to him as well, so no wonder he’s traumatised by that.

After therapy he *conveniently* runs into the co-pilot who’s incoherent and beaten up and hands CSW a usb-drive. It contains video of the cockpit on the day of the crash and it’s obvious what struck the plane was a suitcase and what crashed into the engine was a human being (DUN DUN DUUUUUUN maybe someone forgot to convert feet to meters when setting up the time travel thingamabob).

As he looks at the (very pixelated) figure of the person about to crash into the engine, he suddenly sees his brother’s face and honestly this scene just made me laugh? I know it’s supposed to be haunting and more evidence of CSW’s deep trauma, but I guess at this point my brain was just completely checked out. 

And that’s what we end our introductory phase of CSW. What the fuck was that plane thing even for. To show us he’s callous in the face of danger? He’s an asshole even when he’s about to die, so he’s got a long way to go? He’s haunted by the spectre of his dead brother and the guilt he feels for not being there when he died? I got a lot of that before we had the insane Plane Adventure!!! There are literally millions of ways they could have gotten this information to the viewers and not made an absurd spectacle of the plot that means that everything afterwards just feels lame, because you already had the insanity that was this plane ride, so it can only go down tension wise.

Now we’re back to PSH, but honestly her parts are kinda boring and bog-standard “UwU I’m unfamiliar with this way of life, I don’t even know how to eat a banana (that looks *nothing* like a banana btw), so I just eat it peel and root and all. Also I’m from the Future, that means I obviously know todays LOTTERY NUMBERS.”

I know kdramas like clichés and tropes, I like them too, that’s why I watch kdramas, but you gotta give me a bit more if you want me to at least invest in PSH, because I’m sure as hell not invested in CSW. 

She gets taken in by some guy, because we can’t have her homeless all the time, and she needs someone to explain this world to her and also how to eat bananas properly and she opens her suitcase. It’s got both future-tech-y looking stuff and a pink notepad that seems to hold specific information on what needs to happen on certain days. 

She also makes this expression and I don’t know if we’re supposed to laugh because she’s not threatening or if we’re supposed to laugh because she’s not threatening, but we know she’s gonna kick ass later, haha you just thought she was harmless. I gotta say it’s the former for me.

Rarrr fierce Elite Warrior PSH coming to get you.

She tries to get in touch with CSW, already breaking one of her dad’s three commandments. Oh, I guess staying with this guy breaks the other two. Welp, so much for that then. What even was the point of that first scene...

Anyway she tries to get in touch with CSW but ofc you cant just call the richest person ever (Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos would get very angry voicemails from me if that were the case), but she manages to get his voicemail. Or a voicemail he spoke for. But oh no, she is just Not Familiar with this world and keeps having a conversation with the voicemail as if it’s CSW himself. 

CSW who has scienced his way to finding the suitcase that crashed the plane and as she begs his voicemail not to open the suitcase, of course he opens it and gasp the combination for the suitcase lock is his birthday!!! Something his brother used to do!!! 

MAYBE THAT MAN WAS HIS BROTHER AFTER ALL!!!! OH NO!! 

But thank fuck the episode is over now.

VERDICT:

Just no. Don’t do this. The latter half of the show is more standard fare, but the first 25 minutes destroy any capability of this show making sense. I can see what the writers are trying to do, but it’s so hamfisted and badly written I’m just not willing to go along.

If you want a show that also has a fantasy action aspect (and this show is all fantasy no matter how much it tries to science it up), watch LUCA instead. That show at least knows how to set a tone, how to get us invested in the characters and does exposition in a way that doesn’t feel obtrusive. 

[janeaustentextposts]

Hey! Love your blog, I have a question to ask about Mansfield park. My first understanding of it was the 1999 movie, having loved it and fanny price I decided to read the book but I found fanny in the book to be so different from the film, in the book she’s quite sickly and unadventurous but in the film shes more steadfast and quietly opinionated. What are your thoughts on the portrayal of fanny in the 1999 film in regards to the novel? Also what are your thoughts of the adaption. Thanks!

I personally think it’s one of the better Austen adaptations. (Which is not to say it’s not without its faults--the slavery elements are not entirely unjustified by the context of the novel and history and I genuinely think intentions were good for the 90s but at the same time I doubt whether that’s really Patricia Rozema’s story to tell, even in passing references. There’s a bit of white guilt in ‘we all live off the profits’, and Fanny fires up a bit to challenge Sir Thomas and OBVIOUSLY it is sickening and monstrous what Tom’s drawings reveal; but then...Sir Thomas has some halfway kind of epiphany about how he could maybe be a more attentive father and then everything from thereon out is A-OK? That’s probably what bothers me the most--I would want Fanny to get as far away from Sir Thomas as possible and poor Susan too; hell, everyone just get out of Mansfield Park and let Sir Thomas die alone and horribly real quick. It’s implied that he has tortured and raped people WHO HE HAS ENSLAVED. That shouldn’t be moved past and the ending is just...gah. So yes, that element should, in hindsight, have been left the fuck out of the movie altogether because there’s no way to address it appropriately without a heap of goddamn tonal dissonance with the airy helicopter shots and tiddly ballroom music reprise as everyone gets a lightly comic voice-over ending.)

That said, somehow when people have problems with this movie they tend to skip over that and just be mad that ‘99 Fanny is too feisty.

I recently re-read Mansfield Park and while I appreciate book Fanny on her own merits, I gotta say, she is UNFILMABLE as a heroine. When people clamour for a book-accurate Fanny on film, I have to wonder what that would look like? What would it sound like? A lot of voice-over as she watches things happen? Because I cannot fuckin’ stand a lot of voice-overs and that’s why I wanted to immediately heave Outlander off a balcony.

Henry James once posited that the best scene in The Portrait of a Lady features his heroine sitting silently in a chair, and I think about that a lot when I think about adapting Mansfield Park to film; or indeed adapting any text to film where there is so much delicate internality. There are some stories (beloved and brilliant stories!) that simply Do. Not. Work. when transliterated directly to another medium. Maybe in years to come with VR tech there will be mind-blowing new ways to immerse audiences in a narrative experience; but as of right now, with largely 2D film being what we’re talking about, the intimacy of Fanny’s interior life is inaccessible in that format without getting very hamfisted and weird. (Even the diary gimmick in ‘07 Persuasion is pushing it, for me; and you can see something similar was attempted in giving Fanny letters to Susan and her writings to allow her means for expressing herself and taking over sections of the narration.)

Also it’s very 90s, like, look at the culture, we’re on the tail-end of Austen-mania, Mansfield Park is one of the last of the main canonical novels to be adapted during the latter half of the decade, and she’s got to compete with Gwyneth Paltrow as Emma Woodhouse and Elizabeth goddamn Bennet. There was no way this film was getting greenlit without Fanny getting some oomph to her character; and I think they way they did it was pretty cool, and gave a nod to Austen’s juvenilia and letters, which are great bits of writing in their own rights and don’t get as much attention as her novels, so it was just NICE to see them kind of get an outing, even if they’ve been added to Fanny’s characterization.

Is the 1999 Mansfield Park perfect? No. Is it Accurate to the Book? No. (But people asking for that are asking for the moon unless they have some brilliant idea for adapting it that nobody else has thought of, yet.) Should they have reconsidered the slavery angle rather than trying to take woke baby steps and ending up just being a big ol’ white mess that pats itself on the back for having like two people say “maybe abolition?” and then move on with their personal problems because family is family I guess? Absolutely, God, it’s cringey as fuck. (It’s set in 1806 so I guess the Slave Trade Act was in the works somewhere in the context of that world but let’s not kid ourselves that’s not going to change whatever the fuck Sir Thomas was up to in Antigua.)

That said the cast is amazing and the score still SLAPS more than any other Austen adaptation.

[nemo1230]

The arcade

Richie loved the arcade. Especially he loved playing Street Fighter. He could spend hours upon hours playing it. Arcade was his second favourite place to escape to when life got too much, first being the clubhouse. On that note, Richie will never return to the arcade.

You see, Richie had made a mistake. A huge mistake. He hadn't even meant it like that. The boy had just been so nice, and he liked playing Street Fighter with him, he really was a good player. So, yeah, maybe Richie had over-stepped a line, and the price he was now paying was too high.

The first incident with Bowers had happened before Pennywise was defeated. The god damned clown was now gone, and Bowers was behind bars, a year had already passed, but that didn't mean that there weren't other monsters lurking in the corners, murderous eyes following him, watching his every move. It was exhausting, constantly having to hide a secret like that. He often felt like was suffocating. And it was getting harder every day, since the person to whom all of his mess of feelings were directed at was his best friend.

After Pennywise, the losers gang had gotten closer; after all you can't go through life altering experience and don't come out different. Things like that change people. But not like him and Eddie. They had gotten inseparable, clinging to each other for their dear life. Something truly had changed, because sure, they were close before, but never like this. And these changes constantly had Richie up late at night, wondering, longing, yearning.

Anyway, after the first incident, he had been reluctant to return to the arcade. But not always the clubhouse could provide him with enough safety as he'd like. Usually somebody already was there, or simply that place carried too many memories, that didn't clear his mind, but clouded it. And really, just wandering around a small place like Derry can get boring. So, after taking a deep breath, he finally went to the arcade.

And the first few times it was fine, it was good being back here, not thinking about anything, but the game. He even started to forget all about Bowers. Until today.

It wasn't even Bowers hang, but another group of teenagers from school. "Hey, is that Richie Tozier? Isn’t that the faggot one?" Is how it started. The whole gang roared in laughter. Richie had tried to ignore it. Don't listen, don't replay, just suck it up and deal with it later. But the insults just kept coming. One of the teenagers pushed Richie and that was the final straw. Richie punched the guy who had done it square on the face. "What the fuck?! The fairy can punch? Let’s see how well he does it!" And well, in short that's how Richie gained a black eye, bleeding nose, and another hole in his heart.

He ran out of the arcade and realized he had nowhere to go. He didn't want to go home, since his parents had been drinking again, didn't want to go to the clubhouse because that was way too painful of a place, and he didn't want to worry the other losers.

Tears had welled up in the corners of his eyes and his knees suddenly questioned if they can hold his weight. But then-

"Richie?"

Oh, that voice. That god dammed voice, somehow always being able to calm him down no matter what. Richie lifted his eyes and saw Eddie pacing towards him, rolling along his bike.

"Richie, what the hell happened?!" He shouted, voice full of worry as he dropped his bike on the ground. Richie watched it collide with the ground and make a harsh sound. He winced. Then, he felt hands on his shoulders.

He looked up, into Eddie’s eyes, his beautiful, big, brown eyes, and his lip quivered. "Can we go? Like, anywhere, take me anywhere that's not the clubhouse or our houses. Please." He managed to get out.

Eddie nodded, while grabbing his bike. "Of course. You can get on the back of my bike."

They got on Eddies bike and he took off. Richie wasn't really paying attention where they were going. He had put his hands around Eddie’s waist and his head against his back. He inhaled and closed his eyes as the familiar smell of fresh laundry detergent and vanilla hit his nose.  It made him feel safe, even though this act alone was something of a crime in a place like this.

Richie didn't even notice that they had arrived, when Eddie abruptly stopped.

"Rich? We're here." Eddie said gently.

Richie opened his eyes and turns out they were at the quarry. He got off Eddies bike. "No offence Eds, but I'm not exactly in the mood to swim."

"We're not swimming. I just figured you wanted a quiet place, and well, quarry usually is deserted so, yeah. Also, when you feel bad, you usually like to lock yourself indoors, and well, I just thought maybe fresh air would be good for you. We can leave if you want though." He had gotten off his bike as well and now as shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

Richies heart might have melted a little bit at that. "No, it's fine. Look at you knowing all about my unhealthy coping mechanisms." He joked, but it came out weak and strained.

Eddie rolled his eyes and took Richies wrist. "Come on, dumbass."

He took them to the very edge of the cliff and sat down, hanging his legs off the edge. Richie plopped down next to him, close enough that their shoulders and knees touched. He let himself shut it eyes for a while and let the gentle breeze and faint sun rays hit his face.

"Do you want to tell me what happened? And can I clean your face? Because, no offence, but it looks horrible." Eddie had already dug through his fanny pack, and found some wipes and disinfectant.

Richie looked at Eddie, nodded, but stayed quiet. He closed his eyes once again and soon felt gentle hands on his face, but no sting yet. He opened his eyes and saw Eddie looking at him with something in his eyes that made Richie's breath get caught in his throat.

"This is going to sting." Eddie whispered, one hand tenderly stroking Richie's cheek, and finally started cleaning his face with the other. Richie winced, but didn't say anything.

Eddie worked in silence aswell, and only when he was on his third wipe, Richie finally managed to say "Some teenagers beat me up."

Eddie's hand stopped. "What? Who? Why?" The movement on Richie's face continued, but a bit more firmly.

"I didn't know them, but it was because-because I'm-I-I- fuck! Why can't I just say it!" He opened his eyes and looked down on the water below, turning his face away from Eddie.

"Hey. Look at me, Rich. Look at me." Eddie guided his face back to facing him. "It's okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"No, I can't, because then you'll hate me, you'll think I'm disgusting, you'll-"

Eddie didn't even let him finish. "I would never hate you, Richie. Yeah, at times I think you're disgusting, but that's because you eat peanut butter sandwiches with pickles, and throw your dirty clothes at me. I promise you, whatever it is, I'm not going to hate you."

The sincerity in Eddie's voice and eyes got Richie done for. "I'm- I'm gay, Eds." He shakily exhaled, and bit his lip. This was it, this was the moment Eddie finally saw him for who he truly was. And just because the damage had already been done and he had nothing to lose anymore he continued. "And I'm in love with you. I'm in love you so much it hurts."

There was a long silence. Eddie's eyes were no longer on his, staring somewhere in the distance.  Richie waited for the moment where it finally settled in, where Eddie would leave him, call him a disgusting, dirty fa-

But then, suddenly Eddie's eyes were back on his. "Wow. I can't believe it took us for you to get beaten up to admit this."

"Us..?" But he didn't have much time to wonder about that, because all of a sudden warm pair of lips where on his. He froze for a second but quickly recovered, kissing back. Eddies hands slid down to his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He let his hands find Eddie's face.

At first it was gentle and clumsy, but both quickly got the hang of it and it grew more passionate, letting the pure longing for each other bleed into the kiss.  Eddie bit his lip and as Richie opened his mouth, he slipped his tongue inside. And oh, that was new. But he welcomed it nonetheless.

Eventually they pulled apart, looking into each others eyes.

"So you want to tell me.. that you like me too?" He couldn't help but ask. It sounded dumb even to his own ears but he needed to know. He needed to hear it being said by Eddie.

"Yes, Richie, I like you too. Lov-love you, in fact." A slight blush was now covering his cheeks.

"Aw, Eddie-spaghetti has a crush on little ol' me? Oh how embarrassing!" Richie exclaimed, doing one of his weird voices.

Eddie rolled his eyes and fixed Richie with an 'are you fucking kidding me' stare. "I'm going to murder you in your sleep."

"Does that mean you'll be in my room, in my bed, at night? In that case, oh, what a way to go!" He dramatically put a hand over his heart and fell back to the ground.

Eddie couldn't help but chuckle. What a dumbass, he thought. But now – he's my dumbass. He smiled at that and leaned down to kiss Richie once again. 

[phoebewallerbrigde]

All For Us, (a Reddie x Euphoria HBO) fanfiction

"It was the end of summer, back-to-school was coming up, I had no intention of staying clean and Richie Trashmouth Tozier was back in Derry." 

Without any filter but with humor and franchise, here's the harsh coming of age story of Derry's youth through the eyes of Eddie Kaspbrak, 17, fresh out of rehab.

read it on AO3 || Explicit || 8k || 1/?

Hope you like it guys !

There was a time in my life where everything was fine, but that, that was before I was ripped out of my mother’s womb. Since then, it’s been shit.

Chapter 1 : Screwed.

I was born on September 3rd, 2002 in a world post 9/11 completely overwhelmed by the mourning and the duty of memory. It has been four months since Sam Raimi's Spiderman was at the top of the world box office and that Peter Parker had managed to give hope to America and New York. Far from everything and from New York, there was my mother and my father, and I was their Spiderman. Nice, huh? I don’t think so.

---

My life begins without warning with a childhood in a big house in the depths of America's asshole. Derry, Maine. A small town so small that everyone knows each other and knows everything. That’s where the problems start. My father became ill when I was 9 years old and my overprotective mother was already beginning to fall into what I call "parental and marital abuse". Life at home was absolutely not great, especially because of my "not fitting" behavior.

"Eddie-bear, is everything okay?" asked Sonia Kaspbrak worried.

A 10-year-old Eddie was still staring at the front door counting seconds every time he heard the clock tick of the dining room.

"Eddie-bear, look at me." she added in a calm voice. "You did not even touch your .."

Eddie turned her head to Sonia and began to cry at once. Sonia and Frank looked at each other in amazement, feeling completely helpless.

They did what every healthy-minded parent would do, choosing to consult several doctors, a psychologist and a children's psychiatrist. I wasn't physically abused, I always drank at least a liter of water a day, my mother prepared me good dishes, my father did not hit me... 

"Your son has OCD, ADHD and anxiety. He has a higher brain activity than the average child for his age, probably due to hypersensitivity and perhaps also to behavioral disorders... But he’s still too young to tell."

The psychiatrist's voice left a blank in the room and Sonia Kaspbrak burst into tears. Frank stroked his wife's back for reassurance and Eddie turned to his mother without understanding what was happening.

So why do I have this?

---

"Neuroatypical, you are neuroatypical, Eddie-bear."

Eddie mimicked his mother while eating his cereal bowl, she glanced him, he stopped and sighed.

"Show me your phone, I'll check your alarms."

An 11-year-old Eddie contemplated the capsules, pills and other medications that his mother was carefully distributing in each compartment of his medicine box. He handed him his yellow iPhone 5c that he had already unlocked on the alarms page.

"You have to take all your medicine, at the times indicated."

"I know, Ma."

Sonia looked at her son, who continued to eat with a peeved look on his face. She sat down beside him, putting down his cellphone and the box of compartmentalized tablets.

"You know ... there are lots of famous people like you - famous people, super creative and smart." She managed to catch Eddie's attention and then continued. "Look, your favorite actor who plays in The Truman Show for example."

"Jim Carrey?" 

"Yes!" exclaimed Sonia with a smile.

Yeah, and we all remember Jim Carrey during the 00s New Year Eve on David Letterman's set.

"A genius." ended Eddie with a smile before getting up and packing his box in his fanny pack.

I don’t really remember my pre-adolescence and all that time when I was 10 to 12. I mean, I remember my friends, how meaningless life was, how fast everything was falling apart for us because of daddy’s pneumonia, and how the world was going way too fast for my brain. And that sometimes, if I happened to think too much about everything, to concentrate too much on an smell or on the number of germs present under the table on which I wrote or on the strange way that I breathed ... I had a violent asthma attack. The space of a moment. But very quickly the space of a moment became all the time and all the time became a fight to fight these crises. And frankly...

"So this day, son?" Frank asked with a smile as Eddie walked into his room still dressed with his backpack.

He could hear his father listen to Queen and David Bowie's Under Pressure, one of his favorite songs who became one of his. That made him sketch a small smile.

"I'm fucking done with it."

--- 

I’m not necessarily proud of the choices I’ve made, but it wasn’t really like my mom didn’t push me. The house was full of meds. Meds here, meds there, meds in the kitchen, in the bathroom, in the guest room, in the garage. My mother ordered meds profusely but gave me "gazebos" when I was perhaps the one who needed treatment the most. A treatment, I needed a treatment. I got it. It was there in front of me, everywhere, I knew every name and every dose of what the psychiatrist was giving me, it was not hard to remember, so I took it. I took but nothing. I did not feel any difference, the asthma attacks, the tremors, the sadness were still there. I took again and again and always more. When I went to the doctors, they increased the doses and I changed my mother's gazebos with my real meds. It made me feel something in the end, but it was too late, I was already addicted. But after all, is it really my fault? Oh, and I think we say "placebos".

12 years old and already on medication dependence. 13 years old and I stole my father’s morphine and other painkillers. 14 years old and I was asking for more with my psychotropics. 15 years old, I took my 1st taz and smoked my first joint. 16 years old and I sniffed my first rail, the first among others. That's why Georgie Denbrough found me unconscious in my own vomit. I had become a junkie ? I don’t know. I just liked the feeling. The feeling that it gave me, the nothingness. For once on earth, for as long as I can remember, I felt something new every time. It was this need that had led Georgie to scream with fear, which alerted Bill Denbrough to run to discover the disaster and tell him to look for my mother as he tried to wake me up. Poor Big Bill, he thought I was dead. I believed it, too.

I spent the whole summer in rehab after that, I never understood why. Well, I did but I didn’t think I was addicted to drugs. Drugs filled the gap that meds sometimes leave when it’s over. But I’ve learned that meds, too, are drugs.

"Eddie!"

"Georgie!"

Georgie ran into Eddie's arms, Eddie couldn’t help laughing and making remarks about how Georgie was almost ahead of him now. This made Bill laugh when he came to give him their secret handshake before taking the smallest in his arms.

"Hey!" whispered Eddie with a big smile.

Sonia in the distance watched her son squeeze the only two friends she had allowed to come with her to pick up Eddie, since they had been present and saved him with the accident. They ended up taking the road with them to their house. 

"I'm so happy you're back home, Eddie-darling, I missed you so much, never do that again, you gave me up for 3 long months, you realize, I could not to do nothing without you, I was so lonely and you know how much I hate it, never do that again, I made an appointment with the hospital for full exams and we will change you your doses, I will take good care of you my ... "

Eddie stopped paying attention to his mother, he looked around, Georgie and Bill cheerfully discussed everything Bill had planned to do to make up for lost time with Eddie. Not to mention the Losers, but Eddie figured out they were in. The brunette one landed on the windowsill and let the wind caress his face. He noticed in the distance a boy on a bicycle, this long and thin figure was telling him something. Brown curls, an alternative style between neglected but sought after, worn out converses, pale skin to death. Eddie’s eyes marveled at his sight when the car passed him. He felt his heartbeat accelerate and his heart pounding.

And that’s when the beginning of the end really began. It was the end of summer, back-to-school was coming up, I had no intention of staying clean and Richard Trashmouth Tozier was back in Derry. I had to talk to the one person who knew everything about everything.

---

"So ... How long have you been back among us? You have completely hidden your return." Mike asked, eating his salad.

"A week and I didn’t hide everything! I was in quarantine between the hospital and at home all week, thanks Ma. Bill didn’t tell you?" said Eddie watching Mike eat.

"Bill and I don’t really talk right now when we see each other. You know that."

Mike is probably the smartest person I know, yet he still didn’t dare tell the love of his life that he loved him. At the same time, he was living on a planet other than ours and didn’t really have time to be a normal high school student. It was easier to fuck Bill and continue to just be his bro than become his significant other. 

"Richie is back, by the way."

"Ah."

"Yup, he went to the farm and got a 50$ of weed. He didn’t even want me to give him a price."

"D'you know more?" "Hm... He’s already been here for two weeks. He seemed pretty happy to be back, California changes you a man." said Mike laughing what made Eddie smile. "We’ll see when we get back to school."

Eddie nodded at Mike.

"How are you feeling ?" Mike asked, carefully watching Eddie.

"Great since I gave my life to abstinence and I stopped jerking off." Eddie answered seriously.

"Oh ...... Cool, cool, cool, I'm really happy for you."

"Mike, I’m messing with you. You should see your face." Eddie laughed while Mike gave him a pat on the shoulder. " Anyway, that’s not all, but is your grandfather here, Vegemike?"

"Are you serious bro?"

"Hey, it's not because I'm doing a rehab that I'm going to stay clean."

"But.... Isn’t that the point of a rehab? I won’t let you do something stupid again."

"Come on, just weed."

"You do not like weed, Kaspbrak."

"Fine but can I at least have your cherry tomatoes?"

Mike nodded and smiled at his best friend who continued to eat his salad with him.

Something I missed this summer? My trips to the Hanlon farm. Mike being a divine cook and plus a vegan, obviously, his food was safe and harmless to me. And the Hanlon house was the best hostess for parties, it was big, rebuilt in recent years and far enough to be quiet. I must have missed a lot of parties, but if there was one coming up, Stanley Uris'. And if you thought I was gonna miss it, the last big party before school, so the most important one of the summer, you can suck my dick. That’s probably why that piece of shit of Henry Bowers brought his ass back to the farm. It’s a good thing the Hanlons were selling him their wares for twice as much.

"Yo, there you go! That’s his mama’s boy!" he cried as he entered the storefront. "I thought you were dead. Good, because my knife will be able to tate the ground."

"Go get your shit and get off him, dude."

"You’re lucky I haven’t touched you since you’re the best drug dealer in town, but don’t trust me, nig.."

Mike rose sharply and faced Bowers. His eyes were black and Bowers backed away.

"All right, all right, I’ll go."

I never liked Henry Bowers, and I truly believe no one has ever loved him. Even his father hates him. If you were looking for someone to identify as the rich cis hit white man in this city, it was him. He was "untouchable" or rather believed himself untouchable because his father was the most influential guy in the city. He had been sheriff but had ended up building his business and it had taken. It was quite unbelievable, however, now Bowers was living his best life and did not think he had to be accountable to anyone when he still had a mullet cut in 2019 and that he should clearly shut up the fuck up. Before, he harassed me as well as the rest of the Losers club, for my part I was entitled to homophobic insults in profusion. But one day we humiliated him front of his friends. Since then he has left us alone and yesterday’s nerds his become today’s popular. Karma, as they say.

 ---

It was about to get dark in a few hours, a young man was cycling in the streets of Derry. He was tall, fine and handsome. A car passed by him and he was destabilized.

"Back among us, motherfucker, this is my secret sauce as a welcome gift, Tozier!"

Bowers' voice was loud and Hockstetter's laugh had not failed him. Richie had managed to avoid the milkshake he had sent him. He gave him fingers as he went away and Richie sighed on his way home. He passed by the kitchen and dropped off his racing bag and went to his room where he threw himself into his bed. He took out his phone and went straight to Grindr. Richie was scrolling, watching nudes, messages, chatting with people, going from Grindr to Tinder, and finally finding happiness. For tonight, anyway, then took a nap.

If there was anyone that nobody expected to see again in Derry, it was Richie fucking  Tozier. He told me he was back from his parents' divorce. His father had kept the old family house in which he lived in Derry. Something must have happened with his mother in California because Richie preferred to come and live with his father in our good ol' Derry, but he refused to tell me what happened. That Tozier really is a moron.

Richie awoke. It was already 7 pm. He sighed, got up, went downstairs to eat with his father who had prepared some homemade pizzas and then went back to his room. It was 8 pm. He got motivated, launched his "Party times" playlist which debuted on Plus Putes Que Toutes Les Putes from the French band Orties. He took a shower and picked out an outfit. When he found the right one, he couldn’t help but smile. A black wide sweater with a yellow stripe in the middle and "The villa hopes" written on it, simple black slim jeans, red socks and its Converses x 70 x OFF Springs Velour Patchwork. He rolled up his sleeves, made himself up by putting on black, blue, yellow and red eyeliner to make an editiorial makeup, nothing too dramatic. He was dancing in front of his mirror and laughing. He passed his hands several times without his brown curls, put big silver rings on his fingers and finally put on his necklaces including his favorite, the one with a red balloon pendant. He took his Lacoste fanny pack and while looking at it, he had a little smile thinking of the one person who had never stopped wearing these before it became trendy again. He went down the stairs and fell on his father.

"Oh, look at yourself ! So, where are you going?" asked Wenthworth Tozier while observing his son.

Richie arrived in front of his father after crossing the living room. They lived in a beautiful house, quite luxurious from the outside as well as the inside. Richie hugged his father to reassure him.

"To a party, with friends."

"Friends ?"

"Yes, my old friends, dad."

Wenthworth nodded and Richie waved his hand with his index finger and middle finger at his temple before moving them away.

"Watch out, have fun and protect yourself, Rich!"

Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Tozier, Richie was sure to protect himself properly with those Saint Laurent condoms in his bag.

Richie smiled at his father before taking his bike and leaving.

Richie did not want his return to make too much noise. Yet it was all the opposite effect. Everyone who had lived in Derry between 2002 and 2016, so everyone, knew Richie Trashmouth Tozier. The first to know about Richie's return was Ben. Simply because the two were following the same two-week artistic summer course that the school had organized. It was a little stupid because Richie was a little genius despite appearances and Ben was just good at everything without having to force. At least Ben had been able to reconnect with Richie and pass the information to the rest of Losers, but except me, of course.

When he arrived in front of a hotel in the city, he smiled at the message of the chosen one and sent a message to Ben.

[Forget me for tonight, I have a date.]

Ben glanced at his phone, and then at Beverly. Both exchanged suspicious looks.

"What’s going on?" Beverly asked.

"It’s Richie. He says he’s not coming tonight."

"What did you told him?" Beverly looked at herself in the mirror.

"Nothing! He’s just gonna do his little business with someone."

"Oh okay, chill, he’ll come later. Why you scare us like that!" replied Beverly getting close to Ben to give him a kiss on the cheek.

Ben went red in action and Betty Ripsom made a disgusting sound. Beverly stopped to look at the brunette, she had completely forgotten her presence. After all, it was her who'll dropped them off at Stanley’s. "Stop. You’ll do the same thing tonight and even more," she said looking at her.

In case you're wondering, yes, Ben is in love with Bev. For far too long for me to remember. For Bev, however, nobody really knows. Bev is a mystery to everyone, I still wonder why she's friends with us. She's a cheerleader, she's so popular, much more than Mike or Bill or Stan. She has a reputation behind her, yet it has never stopped her from being the baddest bitch in town. A real rolemodel to the twink that I am. Perhaps the most amazing thing is that she was fake dated for a month with Bowers just for a bet and it lasted until today, well, until two days ago. She still made 200 dollars on it every month.

"You slept with Bowers, you do not have the right to speak." Betty retorted.

"A hand job. It was a hand job and it happened once during the 3 months of the bet. Then anyway, Bowers is a clown. It’s not Penny Wise who’s gonna say otherwise. I was able to take away as much as I could before I dumped him. And tonight, we move on." she said, turning to Ben.

"Yes, that’s what everyone wants to hear! Shit Ben, tonight you have to fuck! Not just a handjob or a blowjob! It’s not the '80s anymore, you have to catch some pussy."

Ben smiled slightly embarrassed and turned to Beverly who grinned while listening to Betty. He totally ignored Betty’s words, then lowered his head, a little disappointed. He really wanted to disappear underground at this very moment.

In his place, I’d like to, too. Thank you, Betty.

 ---

"Ma ? I’m leaving."

"Where, Eddie-bear? And so late? You can’t leave me like this." Sonia said as her son came into the living room. "And dressed like that? You look like a bad boy, I don’t like it."

"That’s my usual style, Ma. It’s only 10 pm and I’m going to Bill’s. Don’t wait for me and don’t panic. And yes, I took my medicine with me and my insulin just in case. See you, Ma."

A 16-year-old Eddie closed the front door and leaned back against it, looking down the street and sighing. He was divinely handsome, he had combed his hair, put glitter on his eyes and mascara which gave him an even more intense look. He had put on a silk shirt with patterns like the rich women's scarves, the colors were soft and pastel like salmon, beige, yellow or baby blue but it contrasted with his lame bomber and his slightly tanned and brilliant skin. With that, he had put some necklaces and he also let see his chest. He was wearing his white low converses and black skinny ripped jeans. He took a puff from his inhaler and looked at his bike lying on the ground. He turned his head away and began to walk. He took out his airpods and launched one of his Daily Mix on Spotify, he closed his eyes at Alphaville's Forever Young.

It is never easy to leave this house with a mother as unbearable as mine. In fact, I lied. I’m not going to go to Bill’s, it would be too much of a detour. We’ll meet at the party. I preferred to walk because when I drink, I don’t take the road because...

All the times he passed out, in the middle of the road completely drunk, kept coming to his mind as a nightmare.

You got it, anyway. I know, you're surprised that I drink, but alcohol is pretty much the same as my meds. Except for beer, I hate beer.

Eddie was quietly walking around, dancing, listening to Rubberband Man from the Spinners, and clearly living his best life. When a noisy car because of the music made itself heard more and more as it passed by. The passengers listened to Dang! of Mac Miller and that made Eddie smile, he loved Mac Miller.

"Oh my god, stop the car." exclaimed Beverly. "I said stop the car, Betty."

"Why ?" Betty asked, slowing down.

"We just passed Eddie Kaspbrak!" said Ben looking in through the back window.

"Oh my God! I think he was dead." Betty laughed.

"Shut up. You should be the one to die, Ripsom." Ben replied.

Eddie walked in front of them, not paying attention.

"Yo, the comeback!" yelled Beverly what pulled Eddie out of his music.

He turned to her and looked at her with a smile. She had a big smile and he leaned towards her.

"It’s good to see you again, we missed you." she said in all sincerity.

Ben nodded, which made Eddie smile, he almost had tears in his eyes. His best friends had not forgotten him.

"Are you being dropped somewhere?" Betty Ripsom asked.

"Well, thank you !"

Eddie waved to him and Ben opened the back door. He got into beautiful Betty's Volvo and Bev turned to him.

"What the hell are you listening to? Certainly not the New Kids On The Block." She said looking at Ben who shook his head negatively by squinting his eyes.

Eddie looked at his iPhone 8, Rubberband Man was finished, he pouted at the next song.

"London Calling." he answered hesitantly.

"Perfect."

The music started in the car, all four began to jam in the car while singing.

The party was already in full swing when I arrived with the others. Stan’s house was shining from the outside and eclipsing all the other houses, it was beautiful to see. From the inside, it looked like it was going to explode. In every room, chaos. A kind of stifling heat emanated as Megan Thee Stallion’s Hot Girl Summer filled the house. The minute Stan’s eyes crossed mine, he left Patricia for my arms. It was nice, it wasn’t every day that Staniel gave you a hug.

"Oh, fuck, Edward Kaspbrak himself, that's crazy, I .. I'm so happy to see you!" Stan shouted in his arms. Stan held him so tight that Eddie felt he was going to choke him. He must have been a little drunk. He was wearing a stretch short-sleeved shirt in washed jeans with black pants and chelsea boots. It was divine.

He had always been, it was Stan, he could afford it. He was smart, mature, funny, an excellent counselor, the mom of the group and he also organized the best parties in high school. How having money is really cool.

"Hey everyone! Look who’s back! To Eddie!" shouted Bev while lifting up her shot of tequila in the air.

The people present in the room did the same and repeated these two words at the same time. Bill raised his glass in my direction, he gave me a big smile and I was a little embarrassed. Everyone drank their glasses. Bev gave me a shot of tequila, everyone was looking at me now. It was weird. Being the center of attention is clearly not my stuff. But, I drank that shot and after that, everyone screamed for joy. Bev gave me a hug, then Mike just added himself to the hug, then Bill and then Stan. The Losers were together and I could clearly hear Billie Eilish’s Bellyache in my head.

---

The hotel was rather classy, the room too, thought Richie. He did not know that places like this existed in Derry. The chosen one was therefore fortunate. When he returned from a room that served as a kitchen with two glasses of champagne. Richie looked at him carefully, he liked to sleep with older men, but he never imagined that Butch Bowers was that kind of man.

Thank you." he said, looking at the man standing in front of him.

"Your face is familiar to me, have we ever seen each other?" Butch asked, looking at Richie.

Later, Riche told me that at the moment he wanted to say yes. He really should have done it.

"Not that I remember."

Butch nodded and drank his glass of champagne.

Richie had said he was 18, technically he was not lying, he was actually going to have them. The knowledge. And Richie was consenting.

Butch watched Richie.

"We will not fuck, you're too young."

Richie nodded, he avoided swallowing.

"I envy your generation, however. When I see you, I see two life choices."

He stroked Richie's cheek, then his lips with his thumb. Richie was looking at him almost religiously. There was a kind of tension in the room. They were not going to sleep together, but it was almost as if. In a parallel dimension, it was happening.

"You can leave, live an extremely beautiful life elsewhere, be fully yourself, find love, or you can stay here and end up like me, hanging out in fancy hotels." Butch continued looking at Richie's eyes.

"Both choices are possible." retorted Richie.

Butch's thumb sank into Richie's mouth.

"If only I could, I'd smash you." he said in a low voice.

Richie closed his eyes. He could not really say what he was looking for in this kind of completely barge plan. But there was so much he was looking for. One was definitely that special bond he had once bonded with a unique person in his life. When both made leave of this vocal flirtation, this visual fuck. Richie put California by Lana Del Rey in his ears. 

He looked at the door of the closed bathroom because the chosen one was taking a shower, he must have met someone before him and shoot his shot. Richie looked at his phone and left the room without making a noise. Once outside the hotel, he lit a cigarette. He took a few steps to his bike, when the song ended, the cigarette was too. He changed his song and went straight to Stan's house.

And there. The evening went fucking nuts.

The huge stairs in Stan's house were flooded and mobilized by people kissing, drinking or whatever. The music was in full swing, Eddie did not know the song, but he would have sworn it was one of the songs that Mike composed during his free time. He pushed people a bit to pass and went to the nearest toilet. He closed the door and looked at himself in the mirror before taking a breath of his ventoline. He kept looking in his bag with a tiny vial of white powder inside. There was almost nothing, but it did not matter because Eddie knew it was extremely strong. He spread it on a small spatula attached to his keychain which he had disinfected before and sniffed everything. He ran a hand through his hair and left the room. The sensations becoming stronger, his brain seemed to be reviving.

Blackbear’s Hot Girl Bummer burst into his ears. Suddenly, the world around him seemed to be totally out of sync with him. He almost lost his balance. Standing on the wall, clinging to people, Eddie laughed. The world revolved around him and he danced on the music that filled his brain.

All you need to know is that there are several versions of what happened tonight. It all depends on who tells you the story and... I’m not necessarily the most reliable narrator for this evening. But what I can assure you is that Bowers screwed up.

Bowers had been drinking since before with the party. He spent the night looking for Beverly and she wasn’t that hard to find she was in the Uris pool. Even wet, she was still the most beautiful girl of the party. She made a fairly simple make up. You’d think she had nothing if you didn’t know the basics of makeup. She was having fun with Betty and Audra Phillips, Bill’s ex, by doing a water fight and singing along on to Russ’s Do It Myself. And who knows why, Bowers as the fragile man that he is, wanted to break the moment.

"Slut!" he shouted as he reached the terrace.

He pointed to Beverly who turned to him.

"Yes ?" she replied, with a great deal of irony, a smile on her lips.

Everyone laughed and scolded Beverly's name. Bowers turned speechless. Beverly's smile widens.

"Well then, 2 minutes 30 lost his big mouth?" she said, coming out of the water and facing Bowers. "That is what I thought."

Everyone was watching the confrontation carefully. The first one since Beverly dumped Bowers and announced that it was all just a bet between her and Stan.

"Shut the fuck up, you only suck anyway."

"How could you know that since I would never suck you Henry Bowers? Now, please stop humiliating yourself in public. Go back to Greta Keene and forget about me, okay."

Bowers wanted to fight back but Beverly pushed him into the water and Georgie grabbed his leg to make it easier for him to fall. Everyone shouted and laughed. Stanley stood up and turned away from Mike, Bill and Eddie and apologized to see what was going on with Beverly.

"Really ?" He asked.

"You'll pay me Losers." he said as he stepped out of the pool and back inside.

Losers: 1. Bowers: 0. The school year is starting well.

Bill and Mike were laughing and Eddie smiled at Beverly.

It was at that moment that they concluded. The funny thing is that Bill, when he's alcoholic, totally loses his stuttering. So it was amazing to hear him speak clearly to Mike, especially when it was a rim job. I would have preferred not to be here to hear that. But I'm sure I heard a "I love you Mikey" so finally it was worth it.

"Everything's okay, bro?" asked Mike, noticing his presence again.

"Yeah.. Yeah, that’s fine... Glad to see you two are okay." he said, smiling and watching Bill blush.

At the same time, there was another one for whom things were going well. Ben Hanscom. Ben was playing truth or dare in one of the upstairs rooms with several of the Cheerios like Myra Stonehart or some of the guys from our class. Normally, truth or dare was the game we used to play when we were playing between us only, but here, it turned into a conversation about sex. And Ben Hanscom wasn’t a pro on the subject.

"What are you really virgin?" asked one of the guys in the discussion. "And do not say that a pipe, that counts."

"It counts." retorted Myra.

"You know nothing about it Myra. You're the one who wants to fuck Eddie Kaspbrak while everyone knows he's gay and clearly not interested."

Myra looked up at the skies with a grin.

"Who are you saving yourself for, man?" asked another one of the guys.

Beverly Marsh.

"No one. I’m just waiting for the right moment." Ben replied.

"Like, now’s not a good time?" asked another cheerleader. "If, I asked you to sleep with me tonight, what would you say?"

Ben blinked several times at Anna’s question and remained speechless.

Of course, Ben is an eternal romantic. He writes rose water's poems, appreciates courteous love stories and is much stronger when it comes to putting his thoughts on paper than saying it out loud. But, Ben Hanscom was definitely not a coward. He was just a virgin in a society where we wanted boys to breathe and eat porn all day long.

Anna leaned back to Ben.

"You’re super cute, Ben. You used to be before you started working out. In 5 years you’ll be a sex bomb and I want my cut now." she said in a rather serious tone.

The whole room was breathless, Anna was one of the sexiest girls in high school. Ben nodded softly and Anna smiled.

"Everybody clear this room now!"

---

While Ben surely lived what would be one of the most memorable evenings of his life. Richie Tozier had arrived at the party, and I was sprawled on that couch by the pool watching Mike and Bill be in love. Shit, I want what they have. At the same time, Beverly was playing in the pool with Audra and Betty, but you already know the rest.

"By the way, Eddie, you owe me 120 bucks." Mike said looking at his friend.

"Yeah, but I thought our friendship and the fact that I'm alive made up for that." Eddie replied.

"If you say so." Bill replied.

Stan came to join them.

"Frankly, Eddie, I missed you, we missed you all, it was not the same this summer without you, your drug stories make me feel bad."

"Aw Stan, don’t be sentimental."

"No, that’s not it. I love you, man, but... you really scared us." he said, taking a break before turning to Eddie.

Mike and Bill nodded in agreement with Stan.

"We thought you were dead. And seriously, Eddie, I’ve seen a lot of people die, but I would never agree to see you die for that. I’ve seen a lot of people die, but not people like you." Mike added. "I don’t know exactly what’s going on with your brain, but I can tell you one thing, drugs and getting high is not your solution."

A blank settled in between these four. He was not unpleasant, on the contrary. It was peaceful. They watched Beverly and Bowers fight.

"There’s one thing I remember... it happened when I was nine years old, shortly after my father was diagnosed. We were told that he was going to get better, I mean, that he had a chance of getting better. So, we celebrated it, we went to New York, seven hours back and forth. One of the best moments of my life. I told my dad that when I grew up, I would go to New York and live there."

Eddie’s voice started shaking and Stan gently shook his hand.

"Then we came home and I remember... that night, I slept with my parents and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. As if there was no oxygen in the world. My parents called the ambulance thinking I had a violent asthma attack. At the hospital, they gave me opium. Liquid. To calm me down and... then I thought, 'Okay, so that’s what I need'. Not mom’s medicine. That. Because all of a sudden, it was as if everything had become simpler. The noise, the voices in my head, everything was gone. Everything. Being in my head wasn’t a problem anymore. Four years later, he passed away and the asthma attacks that were actually anxiety and panic attacks continued. But that’s okay. I found a way to survive. I have you, guys. I have my psychiatrist. My medecine. Maybe it will kill me..."

Stan kissed Eddie's hand in support then got up and went to see the mess with Bev.

"Hey! Don’t say that!" yelled Bill slowly to Eddie before giving him a pat on his head.

"Touch me again in that ugly mustard buffalo shirt and I’ll kill you, Big Bill." Eddie laughed.

The three friends focused on the story of Bev and Bowers. Then Eddie stood up to give his best friends more privacy. Bowers had stormed into Stan’s apartment in the kitchen to get drunk. Blur’s Girls and Boys was in full swing throughout the house and the first thing Bowers did was not to drink, but to sweep a few bottles here and there with the back of his arm. Eddie and Stan followed Bowers wanting to throw him out of the party and Beverly Marsh had left the pool to annoy Mike and Bill that she had dragged inside after getting dressed.

"Get out of the kitchen!" screamed Bowers scaring everyone. " Get the fuck out."

The people around him backed back carefully to avoid getting a piece of glass, while watching Bowers lose it. Richie dug himself into a corner of the kitchen staring at Bowers totally destabilized by his behavior. Eddie, Stan, Mike, Bill and Bev entered the crowd.

"What's your fucking problem?" he said looking at Richie.

Richie looked at the sides and then looked at Bowers, he didn’t know what to say.

"Why are you here?" he says, moving forward and sticking to him. "Huh? You can't speak ? Aren't you Trashmouth Tozier for nothing?"

At the Trashmouth name agreement, Eddie’s attention got bigger. Shit, what is Richie doing here ?

"Can I know who invited you? You don’t even have any friends here. Everyone forgot you."

"Listen, uh. I don’t want any trouble, I just want to spend a chill night in my corner." Richie said, looking him in the eye.

He didn’t even blink.

"People like you are not here to stay in their corners. You are a problem here, you see, nobody answers. Nobody!" he shouted at Richie.

Richie grabbed the first kitchen knife and pointed it at Bowers, who backed away.

"You think you scare me? You think you scare me, Bowers? You know what we do to sons of cops like you in California?" yelled Richie in turn as he moved towards Bowers. "Back the fuck up!"

"I was fucking kidding. I was fucking kidding !"

"I’m not afraid of you, Bowers."

"W-put the knife down, okay? Put it down! I was laughing."

"You want to hurt me? You have no idea who I am." Richie yelled when he put the knife down.

At the same time he cut his hand without intentionally doing with one of the glass pieces of broken bottles. The spectators cried out in complete shock at this spectacle.

"You see. I absolutely don’t feel pain."

"Are you fucking crazy or something, Loser !?" added Bowers.

Bowers stood in his trembling corner, everyone watching the scene between confusion, admiration, shock and total chaos.

"No, I’m Richie Tozier. And it’s good to be home. Great party tho, Stan the man !" he said while smiling before leaving the room.

Oh yeah... fuck me.

Eddie quietly left his friends after that.

Ben came back down the stairs and saw Richie leave the party in fury.

"What did I miss?" Ben asked Mike.

"Where were you, man? You missed the craziest thing ever !" Mike asked Ben.

"I took care of my business."

Mike stares at Ben not fully understanding what Ben meant.

"I’ve lost my virginity."

"What? With whom?" asked Mike.

"Anna Addams."

"Wow. The Anna Addams?" he said with a smile. Ben confirmed by nodding his head, then Mike took him in his arms. "Well! Congratulations! How was it?"

"You should ask her."

Mike laughed and joined Stan in the kitchen. Stan gave Bowers a broom, cleaning supplies and a shovel.

"Clean up, or I’m going to get Richie." Stan said with a black look and a cold, stern voice.

Bowers took them and resigned himself. He glanced at Mike, Mike supported him, and Bowers resigned himself.

"I will stay in case you botch the job. Oh, after that, you and your friends will leave the party. Thank you." added Stan who was joined by Patricia, his girlfriend.

---

Eddie came out of the Uris house looking for Richie Tozier. He found him quite quickly getting his bike back.

"Hm... is everything all right?" Eddie asked while watching Richie.

Oh my God.

"Uh, yeah, it's good, don’t worry, m... Eddie Spaghetti?"

Richie smiled and blinked several times before moistening his lips. His smile came back, but this time in a corner one. He watched Eddie attentively, capturing every detail of his face. His hair was slightly unscrewed, his mascara had dripped a little and mixed with the glitter on his eyes. His pink lips, his freckles, his smile. Richie hugged him.

Wow. I think I’m getting hard.

"Yes yes, it’s m... Hey, don’t call me that!"

"You look good. It just smelled like trouble in here."

Eddie opened his eyes and began to blush slightly.

"Thank you, you’re not bad either... Yes! Yes, I understand your action. It’s just what you did... It was deadly classy."

The two stared at each other for a moment. Richie noticed the necklace on Eddie’s red balloon pendant.

"You still have it! That’s so cool."

"Oh the necklace? Yes! I’m not leaving it. You too, from what I see! You... you’re going somewhere?"

"At my place." Richie replied.

"I.. Can I come?"

"Yeah, of course! But your mother ? How is she since the last time I fucked her ?" Richie asked while mocking Eddie.

"Fuck my mother."

Yeah, fuck my mom. I found back the only boy I’ve ever loved in my entire life, looking like a fucking greek god and I still have to think about my mom ? Not today, Ma, not today.

The two took the road on Richie’s bike. Bowie’s Heroes passed on Eddie’s little JBL bluetooth speaker. Then, Richie suggested him to put Eddy de Preto's Fête de Trop. He was thrilled, clinging to Richie’s waist and resting his head on his back. He had strangely waited for this moment all week. It may not have happened the way he hoped, but Eddie was appeased.

Once they entered the Tozier house, they both went up to Richie’s room. Not much had changed compared to before, it was perhaps closer and more harmonious. Richie undressed and changed into pajamas, Eddie did his best not to look and Richie laughed at him. He gave her one of his sweaters that turned out to be too big for him, but anyway, he loved it and Richie loved seeing Eddie like that. He was just so...

"Cute. You’re so cute, Eds!"

"Stop it, won't you ?!"

Eddie rushed to clean Richie’s wound and apply a bandage with his first aid kit. Richie teased him by calling him Doctor K. and it was like Richie never left Derry. Richie had always been there somewhere and Eddie had seen him become a young man. Once the wound was cleaned and dressed. They took off their makeup and then the two men went face to face in Richie’s bed. They didn’t really need to talk to each other to say all the things they had on their hearts. They both laughed and Eddie snuggled in Richie’s arms. Nothing has changed. They still liked sleeping together. They still loved each other.

Mike, Bill and Georgie went home to the Denbroughs, Georgie fell asleep in the car, but Bill took him to his room quietly and then brought Mike in, then in his room where for the first time they spent the night talking when they were only the two of them.

Bev had gone home in the early morning and managed to miraculously avoid her father. She took off her makeup and changed her clothes at Stan’s after helping her clean everything up.

Ben had slept at Stan’s with Anna and had also cleaned everything with Betty, Patricia, Myra and others who had planned a sleepover at his house.

Bowers didn’t go home after cleaning up Stan’s kitchen, he went to Hockstetter’s to get drunk until the morning. Humiliated, uprooted, and completely high. He was severely taken back by his father and mother but especially by his father and went to his bedroom having already found his future victim for the year.

The next day, Richie and Eddie woke up early. Richie stopped by to brush his teeth and wash himself because Eddie forced him to do it and then Eddie did the same. Once back in Richie’s room, Eddie stared at him as he sat on his bed.

"I have an idea." he said softly.

"What?" Richie asked while stroking his hair softly.

"Wanna get high?"

[thecandywrites]

Isthantari- The Series Part 1

And we’re back with more Jika! So, because I am super awkward, I ended the Isthantari story the way I did because I was trying to invite anyone who wanted their own date with a Jika to tell me so I could write that and @wolfofbluestardust was the first to take me up on my offer. So here we are! So this is her OC Lenora who is a pastry chef and owns her own bakery/pastry shop. And her own Jika- Jabari, who is awkward, pessimisstic and shy and Lenora is loud, bold and a hopeless romantic. Forbidden romance with a prince? Check. Sweet and fluffy overload? Check. Love at first scent? Double check. Awkwardness? QUADRUPLE CHECK. Lets do this!

And if anyone else wants one of these, message me.

Isthantari- Jabari and Lenora

“Thank you so much for doing this.” Sable thanked you as Jaxon and his brother Jabari carried in cases of the Jika fruits into your pastry shop.

“You’re welcome, I’m excited, so what do I need to do to them?” You posed curiously as you looked the fruits over curiously.  

“Well they’ve already been frozen and thawed so they’ll be sweet for you so you don’t need to do much else. I’m really excited to see what you’ll be able to do with them.” Sable beamed happily as she arranged one of everything onto a long counter with a set of tools to open the fruits so that you could try them yourself, grinning when you ‘oohed’ at the different flavors as your brain kicked into overdrive as you quickly wrote out what your inspiration was telling you to do with them.

“Well give me a few days at least to play with these and see what I can do, but right off the top of my head, macaroons and cupcakes, with this as a filling or to flavor buttercream frosting.” You suggested.

“I was thinking the same thing. Well, if you can’t get a hold of me you can tell Jabari because he’s been put in charge of getting the produce to earth chefs and he’s also in charge of pricing. I can already tell you, this one will probably be pretty expensive because a giant tree only grows one seed pod, granted that pod has over a thousand seeds but you only get one pod a season. So I’m still working on trying to see if I can cross breed it to either get bigger pods or more pods per tree. But the fruit around the seed is literally the blue raspberry flavor a lot of candy has and the seed to me is a cross between a macadamia and a cashew.” Sable explained as you bit into the fruit and felt your knees go weak and ate the rest of the fruit before biting into the seed in the middle.

“I see what you mean by the macadamia nut but I’m getting hints of Brazil nut too.” You pointed out as Sable tried it again.

“Yeah, you’re right, Brazil nut. The nuts I think would be good dipped in chocolate or perhaps into a baklava or something.” Sable mused as you nodded in agreement to that and wrote that down too.

You and Sable had been friends for a long time, you had become a pastry chef and owned your own bakery but because Sable was a friend of yours and her inter-galactic and inter-species connections meant that you were usually her go-to person to see if alien foods would be palatable or be made palatable for humans and as a bonus, you were also who a lot of aliens like to come to for sweets that were for them a taste of home. And when aliens got married, you were their go to for wedding cakes in flavors that were literally other worldly, you had alien staff that helped you with flavors and styles that were even a hit with the humans.

And then you noticed it. Sable’s relationship with Jaxon and the absolutely doting way he was around her and the smitten way she acted around him.

“So…? What’s up with that?” You whispered to Sable with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Oh, Jaxon and I are together, it’s just uh, supposed to be under the radar, you see, the Jika are controlled by a queen and “technically” speaking, she’s the only one who’s supposed to breed in the colony and will kill rivals. And...yeah, so she’s not. And let me just say, damn.” Sable giggled as her whole face blushed beet red.

“Oh?” You giggled yourself. A forbidden romance? Be still your beating heart!

“Ok so the Jika are really sensitive to smells, in particular pheromones, that’s how the queen controls the hive, just like our bees do, so anyway, so Jaxon took one whiff of me and thought I was a queen and  he quickly kind of totally fell in love with me and dear god the sex is out of this world, but don’t worry, he can’t knock me up, it’s fine, but he calls me his ‘Isthantari’ which means ‘one I am devoted to for life’ and so while we have to be careful and as long as I don’t pose a threat of any kind to the actual queen and as long as I don’t attract any others, we’re fine. I just have to wear a fuck ton of deodorant and perfume. Actually Jaxon’s brothers, because Jaye started a relationship with another doctor a couple of years ago, most think that because they’re not the queen’s consorts that they’ll never find love but when Jaye and Jaxon realized that they could, their brothers are realizing they can have a life and romance outside the hive. So if you’re interested, I can try to set you up. You just, literally have to be very careful. And if they’re attracted to your scent, great, if not, don’t take it personal, more fish in the sea and all that, and one may think you’re the living end and another won’t, so it’s an individual thing too.” Sable tried to explain and warn you as Jaxon and Jabari finished getting the last of the fruits inside and you got a good look at him. He was handsome and that purple sheen to his black was quite beautiful.

“How big of a dick are we talking here?” You whispered before Sable gestured and described it and your eyes went wide but the biggest excited smile plastered on your face before she described the sex too and the royal jelly and you were beyond intrigued.

“Hell yeah sign me the fuck up,” you agreed before a plan bloomed in your head.

“Jabari right?” You repeated his name when he came back to stand next to Jaxon who was standing next to Sable, waiting further instructions as you held your hand out to shake one of his before he stepped forward and shook your hand.

“Hi, I’m Lenore, so Sable said to keep in touch with you when I have something for you guys to try, so I’ll need your phone number and email address.” You insisted before he puled a cell phone out of his, what you could only describe was an alien fanny pack because he wasn’t really wearing any other clothes and gave you his phone number and email address.

And then like a woman possessed, you spent the next three days experimenting before you created a plethora of cup cakes, macaroons and all kinds of desserts before you texted Jabari that you had things for him to try. Sable and Jaxon were delivering goods to another chef so that only Jabari could come which was perfect. You had worked up a sweat working on all this and part of you was hoping that Jabari would like your scent the way Jaxon had liked Sable’s.

“Hey, you made it, come on in,” you invited him warmly as you took him back into the kitchen where you had everything displayed on the long counter for him as your other employees manned the front counter.

You watched Jabari very carefully for his reactions, remembering that Sable had told you to watch his antennae movement as well and noticed that on most of it, his antennae were wiggling like crazy as you wrote that down. But to your chagrin, he didn’t seem to give you much of any other reactions other than simply moving down the table and continuing to eat one of each item methodically.

And you did your best to stay close to him but the closer you tried to get, the father away he tried to stay. Ok, so this one didn’t like you. Maybe he was one of the brothers that didn’t think the risk was worth it.

“Can I take this with me?” Jabari requested as he gestured to everything on the table.

“Sure. For Sable to try?” You guessed as you got a to go box and started putting the treats in it for him.

“...yes.” Jabari slowly affirms and not only takes the box but went to the front and ordered one of everything you make at the store and he leaves with a few cases of your goods.

The next day you texted Sable to see how she liked your sweets.

‘I didn’t get any.’ Sable informed you. ‘Although with Jika, when they find something they like, they inhale it, they must have been really good that he ate it all.’ She tried to assure you.

‘Well it would have been nice for him to SAY so. He wouldn’t give me so much as a hum or any thing. Not even a ‘this was good’.’ You complained.

‘Jika are really AWKWARD at first. I had no idea Jaxon liked me until three days after I met him in person. Jaxon fought with himself to keep away from me because his instincts were telling him to mate with me already and he was trying to be professional. So if he came off as stand off-ish it’s because they are usually pretty stoic. Once you get passed that, then their personality will come through.’ Sable explained. ‘Do you have what you need to make more? Because now I really want to try some.’ Sable urged.

‘Yeah, I should, give me by the end of the day today.’ You answered and right at ten minutes to close, Sable, Jaxon and Jabari returned, Jabari’s antennae were a bit droopy though and were your eyes deceiving you or was his abdomen bigger than it was yesterday?

“I’d like to apologize for making you make these again, I had a lapse in self control and ate it all.” Jabari apologized meekly.

“I’ll only forgive you if tell me your honest appraisals of everything.” You returned with a wicked curve to your grin and he perked up quite a bit at that before he just went on and on in amazing detail about every tiny little thing as Sable and Jaxon tried and really enjoyed each item as you were just suddenly overwhelmed, it was like getting the most glowing review from a food critic but in person and when he grabbed your hand to lead you out into the front to the display case as he then gave you a review of each thing, you realized, he did, eat every. Single. Thing. And you fell in love with the way he described your food because he made it sound like you had made each thing just for him and he appreciated and was deeply moved by it all and in awe of it all. You should have recorded this to write it down to actually put it into your menus. When he was done, you were almost ready to cry.

“Thank you.” You thanked him and flung your arms around him to hug him as he awkwardly hugged you back and you felt his antennae tap the back of your head gently just as the employees were closing the store.

“You’re welcome. You’re very talented.” Jabari praised as he seemed to give into the embrace and hugged you so tight it was a little hard to breathe and you noticed he’s petting your hair. You quite like it.

“Would you like to go get a drink with me?” You asked boldly as you pulled away from the embrace.

“Uh, you have drinks here?” Jabari tiled his head slightly in confusion as he gestured to your coffee bar and your fountain drink dispenser.

“No, alcoholic drinks.” Sable corrected as she came out from the back and handed you a sheet of paper with her and Jaxon’s reviews written on it and on the other side was suggestions of pairings which you folded and put into your pocket.

“Uh, can Jika…?” Jabari put to Jaxon who nodded ‘yes’ before he said something in the Jika language and it sounded encouraging.

“Sure,” Jabari confirmed and you could tell he was nervous.

“Come on.” You urged as you grabbed your things and took his hand and led him down the street to a local bar and pub that you liked to go to after a long day and you got dinner and a drink and smiled when he got the fruitiest drink they had and ate the slice of pineapple and orange that came with it.

“So how come you couldn’t tell me all that yesterday?” You posed after you placed your order.

“I needed time to compose myself and get my thoughts in order.” Jabari answered as he played with the rind of his orange nervously.

“Do I make you nervous?” You asked as you tilted your head to the side.

“No,” Jabari answered probably a little too quickly and a little too loudly.

“Really? Because your body language says otherwise.” You argued before he stopped fiddling with the rind and sat on his hands.

“It’s ok to be nervous, I don’t think any less of you if you are. But I do appreciate honesty. Just tell me and don’t leave me guessing.” You advised before a fight broke out at the bar and in a split second and faster than you could blink, you were wrapped up in his arms and he literally flew you both out of there and towards the Jika ship. You struggled until you realized how high you were and literally stopped struggling to cling to him so tightly you wrapped yourself around him even though his hold on you was pretty hard already.

“Jabari! What the fuck are you doing?!” You screamed as you looked down over the city and noticed it was...actually really pretty as that suddenly seemed to kick some sense into him and out of the instinct that had taken over him.

“Huh?” Jabari seemed to ask as he came to his senses and quickly changed direction to fly you back to the pub before he landed gently on the ground and put you down.

“Don’t move.” You ordered before you went back into the restaurant, got your food to go and came back out, paying the waitress and leaving a hefty tip, because the poor thing thought you ran out on the bill.

You came back out and practically hopped back into his arms.

“Ok, now you can go wherever you were taking me before.” You told him before he seemed to look at you a little more appreciatively and took off, his wings easily flying you through the air as his hold on you was secure as you held onto the food before he seemed to fly into a blue beam of light and in a flash, you were on the Jika ship and he was flying you through the ship as you watched on in wonder before he came to his quarters before he put you back down.

“That was really fun, just warn me the next time you want to go flying.” You gently teased as you looked around and saw what looked like a table and chair and had to hop up to sit on it and got your food out.

“So this is your place? It’s nice.” You appraised.

“Thank you.” Jabari nodded as he opened his food container and pulled up a chair and sat down and began to eat.

“So are you just naturally flighty?” You asked.

“No, Jika are fierce warriors.” Jabari countered.

“And yet half a second after the first punch was thrown you had both of us out of there and half way here already.” You argued firmly because you knew he was being protective, he just didn’t want to admit it.

“An instinct to keep you from danger kicked in and took over.” Jabari tried to explain delicately and a little dismissively but you were undeterred.

“Really? Aww, why?” You demanded with a bright smile.

“What Sable told you about Jika in my position?” Jabari returned.

“That you weren’t chosen for a royal consort and so you simply have a job to serve the hive but that you and your brothers are learning you can have a life outside the hive.” You repeated with a smug grin.

“Uh huh.” Jabari nodded.

“And that you’re affected by pheromones and that that’s the reason her and Jaxon are together because she smelled like a queen to him. So, do my pheromones do the same to you?” You asked plainly.

“Yes, and it will get both of us killed.” Jabari confessed.

“So it’s dangerous, some people really like that, the whole forbidden romance thing, that’s what sells books and movies and love songs.” You shrugged.

“It could be the downfall of the Jika as a whole, because if it’s seen as something any and all Jika can do, soon all the worker Jika could go back into incubation and have the ability to ignore the hive mind and our society and ways of doing things could cease to...” Jabari tried to argue before you grabbed his face, used your thumbs to move his mandibles out of the way to kiss him and smiled into the kiss when he kissed back and nearly climbed over the table to pull you up out of your seat to hold you as he picked you up and kissed you deeper.

“Oh fuck,” Jabari breathed as his hands pet your body which made you feel feverish because holy shit, did he taste good and this was great.

“So don’t tell the hive mind.” You managed to say between heated kisses as his bed appeared out of the floor.

“I need, I need you to tell me to stop.” Jabari pleaded desperately in a last ditch effort to save you from his imagined fate.

“Why?” You asked as you pulled away to look at him as you cocked your head to the side.

“Because if lay you down, I’m gonna mate with you and I won’t be able to stop myself at that point, right now, if you don’t want this, you have to stop me right now.” Jabari pleaded.

“Yeah I don’t want you to stop though because the forbidden romance is totally my thing and if I smell like your queen by all means, make me your queen but without actually getting us killed.” You breathed.  

“Fuck, well ok then.” Jabari caved and pinned you to the bed and in lighting fast speed, he stripped you out of your clothes, which having four hands came in handy and then his cock emerged and you gasped in surprise.

“Wow, that’s huge,” you purred before you wrapped your legs around his waist and tried to align yourself onto him and when the tip touched your slit, the slightly cooling yet tingling sensation began to spread into your womanhood before you noticed a duct appear on his chest and start oozing a yellow liquid.

“What’s that?” You asked as you pointed to it.

“Royal jelly, we make it during mating,” Jabari answered as he got into position and his breath shuddered when you licked it up and to you, it tasted like a mango, passion fruit, papaya, lychee and super ripe pineapple smoothie. It was so good. You easily licked it up and had to strain your neck a little to reach the duct and closed your mouth over it and sucked it before your tongue swirled around it just as he entered you and his hips stuttered as his breath fluttered as he temporarily forgot how to function because it felt so good and you couldn’t help but moan when he filled you, no stuffed you full and you whimpered as your hips rocked into him, trying to take him as deep as you could and when he really started to move as one hand held him above you so he wouldn’t crush you but the other three arms were wrapped your chest, your waist and your rear.

“Am I hurting you at all?” Jabari asked worriedly.

“No, but if you stop now I’ll hurt you.” You insisted before you played with the duct with your tongue which practically made him come apart again as he picked up the pace as you greedily sucked down that royal jelly.

“You’re so small and you’re so soft, yet you’re fiercer and bolder than any warrior I’ve ever met.” Jabari tried to praise you as you snorted a laugh.

“Oh no, are you choking?” Jabari asked as he pulled away before you pulled him back.

“Nope, laughing. Everyone says I’m tiny yet fierce.” You grinned before you attached your mouth over the duct again and sucked hard and that only made him hump you harder which was exactly what you needed to reach orgasm and just as you were barely coming down that knot at the base was now at your entrance and was drenched in your essence and with one last good thrust it popped inside and you cried out as your lower belly really bulged but instead of pain, you only felt a slight discomfort but otherwise it was nothing but pleasure as you were pumped full as your mouth was suddenly pumped full of royal jelly too and you tried to gulp it all down.

“Fuck,” it was your turn to cuss once you finished drinking it all down but you were still basking in after glow and you felt like you had melted and had slowly started to solidify in his arms again. “Wow, that was...wow.” You tried to have a coherent thought.

“Uh huh,” Jabari nodded in agreement as he very carefully laid down on his side with you still in his arms as he tried pulling a soft blanket over both of you to make sure you didn’t get cold without your clothes on.

“So why were you so weird the other day?” You asked him.

“I was trying not to mate with you and tried to stay professional, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings by not giving you the feedback you needed at the time.” Jabari explained as he ran his fingers through your hair marveling at it.

“Hey, it’s understandable,” you chuckled before you felt his cock shrink and the knot popped out and you expelled, what to you- felt like a gallon of his cum all over the bed and when you reached down between you to touch it, you marveled at it’s holographic nature and then out of curiosity you licked your finger clean and giggled.

“My cum tastes funny?” Jabari asked in confusion.

“Your cum literally tastes minty, like sweet mint gum.” You cackled as you licked your other fingers clean.

“What?” Jabari asked as he watched you curiously.

“Your cum, it tastes like mint gum, something humans actually like and think tastes really good.” You explained.

“Oh,” Jabari blinked.

Once you both recovered, you got redressed and he literally flew you home. “So am I your Isthantari now?” you asked as he put you down on your front step with surprising precision and care.

“If you want to be.” Jabari returned.

“Hell yeah,” you beamed before you pulled him down to kiss him again.

“Goodnight Jabari, I had a lot of fun tonight, by the way, you owe me for dinner.” You teased as you playfully pat his chest.

“Oh, that’s right, uh, yeah, I’ll...take you out for another alcoholic beverage, soon. Tomorrow?” He asked.

“Tomorrow. And I want to go flying again after, so don’t drink too much, don’t want you flying while drunk.” You winked before you went into your apartment.

[atrabiliousse]

lilac for the boyz new plz💕💕

hey angel cake!! i hope you enjoy it!! 💓💓💓

Lilac with New

You were always thankful for the wealthy lifestyle your parents had provided you with, always trying your very best to never take it for granted.

You only ever asked for what you needed and when you truly wanted something, you’d do your best to earn it yourself.

Which was why you usually found yourself working multiple part time jobs with your best friend, Chanhee.

“Just ask your parents,” He’d whine, not understanding why you were so set on doing it yourself.

You’d roll your eyes, brushing him off and changing the subject to talk more about him, which worked well because the boy always seemed to have something to ramble on about.

But whenever the boy found himself in a predicament, it usually being with rent, you’d try your best to help out of your own pocket, something he didn’t particularly enjoy.

However, Chanhee liked to joke about the things he wanted and couldn’t have, always being clothing related. A new shirt or the pair of jeans he saw on the mannequin, but recently, your best friend had gotten attached to something new all together.

It was a Gucci fanny pack he had seen in a magazine on one of the tables he was waitering, eyes wide when he approached you at the register.

“I just lost my soul and heart,” he said dramatically.

You barely paid attention to him, sighing, “What is it this time, Chanhee?”

He sighed, leaning against the counter as a dreamy look overtook his face, “It’s Gucci, it’s pretty and I deserve it.”

Laughing obnoxiously, you finally looked at your best friend, “It probably costs more than your rent and you can barely afford that.”

He deflated then, reality sinking in with your words, shaking his head as he grabbed a couple of menus before he walked away, muttering something about you being harsh and unmerciful before he served the new customers.

You chuckled at his antics, sure it would pass over enough days, but much to your surprise, it never did.

Chanhee had gone as far as tearing the page out of the magazine and shoving it in his pocket that day, trying to locate a store that sold the item near him and pricing the item to try his best to obtain it.

It had been the most committed you had seen the boy to any of his obsessions.

Chanhee whined about the stupid fanny pack for weeks, to the point that you were sure he was actually in love with the inanimate object. It was driving you insane but your best friend never seemed to notice that.

“I need it.” He said, shaking your arm with his puppy eyes.

You groaned, trying to get him off of you as the two of you approached the coffee house, “You really need to forget about this damning bag.”

“It’s not a bag!”

“That’s its function, isn’t it?”

“Okay whatever, but I still want it!”

The barista took your order as the boy nagged your ear off, watching in amusement as you ignored him, scanning the menu.

“Make it a double espresso,” You sighed, handing her the amount as the girl chuckled and handed you your number, you dragging Chanhee to an empty table not far from the doors. You both had a shift in an hour so you wanted to get your coffee and muffin and sit in the gardens while the weather still allowed it.

“Aren’t you saving for this thing?” You finally asked him, leaning your cheek on the palm of your hand, eyes tired and lips pouted.

Chanhee nodded then, hands playing with the paper napkin he had taken from the front counter, “I am, I am, but it just doesn’t feel like I’ll ever get it.”

The boy looked defeated and to a degree, you found it adorable.

You always knew your best friend was attractive, impossibly so because he caught the attention from a lot of the female customers, if the giggles and numbers on napkins were anything to go by. But what you found most attractive about your best friend was how much he resembled a puppy. From his soft eyes to his excitement and mostly, his loyalty and huge heart.

He was undeniable and he nestled in your heart much like a thief in the night, but you were thankful for it.

“You’ve been crying over this thing for over a month, I’m sure you’ll get it.” You said, poking at his hand just before your number had been called and the two of you walked over to the counter, getting your coffee and snacks.

You thanked the barista again and handed the boy behind you his order before grabbing your own, turning around to exit but stopping dead in your tracks when you spotted the very person you had tried avoiding for months.

Your ex boyfriend was a narcissistic asshole that you had regretted ever letting into your life, even more so, wasting almost a full year of your life with him and his consistent cheating. He hadn’t hurt you more than he had angered you.

He had caught you in a vulnerable stage in your life and in the beginning you thought you were happy and madly in love, but you were only blinded by the attention he had given you when you felt the loneliest.

But after the first month, things went down hill very fast and you were left nothing like your usual self, something Chanhee reminded you daily, angry and concerned for you, demanding for you to end things with the jerk.

Of course, like the fool you were, it took you too long to actually listen, but when you did, you had never felt better. You were so happy, maybe a bit too happy because you had found yourself knocking on your best friend’s door in the early morning hours with a drunken mind, giggling to yourself as he walked you to his couch where you finally passed out.

And ever since then, you had done an immaculate job at avoiding the idiot, well until now.

So you panicked, turning back to Chanhee and muttering oh my god’s over and over again as you used him as a human shield.

“What are you doing?” The boy asked you, hands on your shoulders, trying to look for what had caused your frenzy, but you were quick to grab his face between your hands, keeping him from looking back.

“Don’t look!” You tried your best not to yell, checking to see if your ex had seen you both and unfortunately making eye contact with him.

He was as surprised as you were, but soon enough a disgusting smirk settled on his face and he pushed forward towards you.

“Hello! What is going on?!”

You turned to Chanhee again, pure panic and adrenaline kicking in as the stupidest idea you had ever had, left your lips before you could think any better,

“Quick, if you kiss me right now, I’ll buy you that fucking Gucci bag you’ve been crying about.”

He was bewildered and even before he could reply, you pulled him into you, lips pressed against his softer ones, causing him to still completely, until finally he responded to the kiss, hands placed gingerly on your waist.

It wasn’t supposed to make you feel so at home. It wasn’t supposed to ground you and cause you to crave more and more and more, but it did. That much was obvious by your body’s response as you stepped closer to Chanhee, your hands sliding down from his cheeks to his neck and then interlocking together. The boy had let his hands squeeze your waist, tilting his head and brushing his nose against yours.

You couldn’t really recall how long the kiss had lasted but by the time you both had pulled away, you had almost forgotten what had incited it until you saw your ex turn away from the two of you, this time, your best friend noticing him now too.

It was awkward then, the two of you silent and unsure of what to do from there, so you grabbed your things and rushed out a quick we’ll be late before you walked out ahead of him.

It was on the walk to work that Chanhee finally said something,

“About that kiss-“

“That kiss is getting you your Gucci fanny pack so let’s talk about this later.”

And so you basically ran away from the boy, completely flustered and confused as to why your chest was in full havoc and all you could think about was the taste of strawberries and mint that certainly wasn’t your lip balm.

[bxxpbxxprichie]

Warning: Mentions of making out, boners, cussing

@reddietoship

“Alright, Richie. It’s your turn.”

Richie hummed, and rubbed his chin as if deep in thought, although he already knew his answer. “Dare!” He never denied a dare, they were his favorite.

Bev grinned, and looked around the room for a minute. Eddie was the only one missing, having gone to the bathroom to wash his hands vigorously after letting Ben lick his palm.

“The whole week before Halloween, you have to scare Eddie in any way you can.” Bev told him, now smirking wide.

“Fuck that!” Richie Tozier just denied his first dare ever. He knew better than that, Eddie would kill him before the week was over. Or worse, break up with him.

“No, c’mon, Rich! It’ll totally be fun!” Bev told him.

Richie shook his head, “Nope, nu uh, I’ll take the sriracha shot.” He reached for the bottle, and the, so far, clean shot glass

“Richie, c’mon,” Bill piped up, “It’ll totally be fun for us! I’ll even throw in a twenty if you scare him once a day.”

That gave Richie an idea. How much money could he get out of this?

“No, not for twenty.” Richie shook his head again, and began pouring the shot.

“I’ll throw in ten.” Ben said grinning.

“I’ll give a five.” Mike nodded.

“Me too, but five’s all I’ve got.” Bev told him.

“I’ll give another ten.” Stan smirked, “If fifty dollars is all it takes for him to break up with you, I’ll pay the price.”

Richie raised his eyebrows, and put the shot glass down on the table.

Richie Tozier now had a mission. A mission that was probably going to get him killed. But honestly, he couldn't deny a dare, nor could he deny the sweet fifty dollars he was getting from the rest of the group to do this. He just genuinely hoped Eddie would forgive him. He was sure a fifty dollar date could cure it, maybe. Ah, who was he kidding? He was going to have so much fucking fun with this.

SEVEN DAYS UNTIL HALLOWEEN

Richie crashed at Eddie's the night before, which definitely made it easy for him. He hadn't brought his supplies over last night for today's scare, but he did tell Mike to bring it over. He quietly crept out of Eddie's bed and down the stairs. He met Mike in the empty Kaspbrak driveway, and thanked the Lord that Sonia was out. He could get away with this without her freaking out too.

Mike handed over the supplies with a cheeky grin and a shake of his head. Richie only nodded in response, shot him a wink, and headed back inside the Kaspbrak house.

Still sleep rumpled, Richie tiptoed up the steps and into Eddie's room. He zipped open the bag as softly as he could, and pulled out the head. It was quite mangled looking, with bulging eyes, rotted teeth, and green gunk trailing out of every orifice. He had to restrain his giddy giggles as he tied a string around the hook on the crown of the head, and attached it to a pole.

He bit his tongue as he padded quietly across the floor and settled the head where his own had been laying minutes before. It was facing Eddie. Richie stood on the other side of Eddie, and as softly as he could, spoke.

“Eddie, baby.” He whispered into his boyfriend's ear, even going so far as to press a little kiss to it. “Wake up, we've got to get ready for school.”

Eddie stirred, and that's when Richie lifted the head a bit.

Eddie definitely woke up then.

A loud screech left the short boys mouth as he smacked his hands at the disgusting, floating head, his body scooting back until he fell off the bed. Richie attempted to catch him, but didn't do to well as he was also now on the floor, laughing his ass off.

Eddie's whole face was red as he glared at Richie, “Are you fucking kidding me?” He growled, standing up from the floor and dusting himself off.

Richie couldn't respond, he was laughing way too hard.

SIX DAYS UNTIL HALLOWEEN

Earlier that morning, Richie had snuck into the boy's locker room during Eddie's gym period. He, of course, knew the combination to Eddie's lock so it was an easy in. He pulled it open, and grabbed for the boys fanny pack. He unzipped it, and as meticulously as he could, extracted the others inhaler.

This was probably a stupid idea. But when were Richie's ideas not stupid?

He had a couple of little plastic bugs that he stuck in the mouthpiece of the inhaler. He knew Eddie did his best to not use the thing at all anymore, but he knew an exact way to get him to use it.

And that's where they were now. Lunch period. All of the losers were sitting outside, enjoying their food and the fall air. However, Eddie had somehow ended up in Richie’s lap, and the two of them might have been hardcore making out. It wasn't an uncommon sight, honestly. They played tonsil hockey rather often around the others.

Any time Eddie started to pull away, Richie didn't let him. He had to do this a few times before he was sure. Eddie always used his inhaler when things got a little too heated in public. It was his way of signaling the need to calm down, without explicitly saying it.

Richie finally allowed Eddie to pull away, but not without tugging on his bottom lip. He gave the boy a smirk as he unzipped his fanny pack and dug his inhaler out.

Just as he was about to put the mouthpiece to his lips, he stopped. His whole body jolted and he threw the inhaler away with a shout.

“What is it, baby cakes?” Richie asked with a smirk.

“B-bugs..in my...that's so gross...how the...what else did they get into?!” Eddie tore his fanny pack off and ripped himself out of Richie’s lap. He dumped everything out of his fanny pack and screeched when a lone bug fell out.

And then he actually looked at it.

“You dick! You could've killed me! What if I'd used it without looking!” He smacked Richie’s arm about a billion times.

“I wasn't going to let you inhale a plastic bug, Eddiekins. No worries.” He was laughing again. Richie couldn't help it.

“Go get my inhaler, asshole.”

FIVE DAYS UNTIL HALLOWEEN

Richie was happy that Eddie had calmed down since yesterday. The bugs in his inhaler had really pissed him off. Richie was sort of surprised that there were any still in the mouth piece, but either way it would have worked out.

He was laying with Eddie on the boys bed, combing his fingers through his loose hair as the other worked on homework. Richie was also scribbling down the odd answer, not really too focused on his school work at the moment. He was trying to make Eddie sleepy. He knew it was working when his pencil fell out of his fingers.

Richie continued on playing with his hair for the next few minutes. He really wanted to make sure the other was asleep. He finally got up and went to work. He had smuggled in plastic spider's and cobwebs.

The package crinkled all too loudly, so he went into the bathroom to open both of them up. The began with the cobwebs, stringing them across the room and on his bed, on his dresser and his desk. It looked like no one had been in the room for years.

Satisfied, Richie weaved himself through the web and began strategically setting up spider's. He had at least twenty of them covering the space.

But he left the best for last.

A rather large, rather real looking tarantula was to hang from the ceiling and in front of Eddie's face. As carefully as possible, Richie attached it to Eddie's ceiling. He had to use his desk chair to reach, but he made it.

He settled himself back next to Eddie, and waited. He watched the tarantula softly swing back and forth in front of the others face, guided by his soft snores.

Finally the swinging went far enough, and it bumped into his nose. Eddie startled awake. A girlish squeal left his lips and he kicked and punched at the swinging spider before it fell. His eyes met the rest of the room and he screamed again, shocked.

Boy, did he look angry when his brain woke up more.

“RICHARD TOZIER!”

“Hey babe!”

“YOU’D BETTER CLEAN THIS UP! NOW!”

FOUR DAYS UNTIL HALLOWEEN

Richie was excited for this one. He even convinced Ben and Mike to help. Ben was more on the refusing side, not wanting anything to do with Richie’s pranks, but he finally convinced him.

Mike and Ben sealed him up in a box and carried him to Eddie's front door. They knocked a few times before rushing off and Richie sat in silence.

He knew Eddie was home.

Finally, he heard the creaking of the floorboards near the front door, and the door opening slowly, as if Eddie was expecting him.

He heard a huff, and shuffling away, before he came back. “Richie, I swear to God if this is another prank, I'm kicking your ass.”

Richie had to restrain himself from chuckling, and broke out from the top of the box, screaming loudly.

Eddie squealed and punched at him, effectively landing a few on his chest.

Richie grunted a few times before grabbing his boyfriend's hands.

“Let me go!” Eddie yelled. “You're such a fucking asshole, Tozier!”

Richie tugged the clown mask off his face to grin widely at Eddie.

“But you still love me, right?”

“Fuck you.”

THREE DAYS UNTIL HALLOWEEN

Tonight's prank was stupid. Richie knew that. But he was grinding down to nothing at this point. His ideas were getting dry.

And maybe he was playing down for the next two days so that one ahead would be particularly bad.

He was an asshole. He knew.

He really wasn't trying that hard with this one either.

He had a small bottle of red food coloring in his pocket. All of the losers were eating pizza together at Bill's house, and watching horror movies.

When Eddie turned away from him, Richie pulled out the bottle and squirted a bit of it up his nose. It resulted in him sneezing, but at least now it looked less like he'd just poured it up his nose and more like his nose was bleeding.

“Ah, shit.” Richie muttered to himself, swiping at his nose with his arm.

“Wha-Richie! Don't smear that all over your skin that's gross!” Eddie screeched, scooting away from his boyfriend.

“No, no, it's fine. I've been having them for the past few days.” Richie stood and started to head to the bathroom to clean up.

“What? The last few days? Then there's something wrong! You need to go to the doctor!” Eddie followed him.

“No babe, it's fine. It's nothing.” He turned on the faucet and started cleaning it off his arms.

“No Richie, it's not fine! You probably have a brain tumor or something!” Eddie huffed.

Richie shook his head, and continued rubbing the dye off of his arm. It was staining his skin, which wasn't good. He leaned under the faucet and started scrubbing at his face, not wanting the red there for who knows how long.

“...Richie I swear to god, if this is another prank.” Eddie growled from his side.

Richie lifted his head from the sink and gave his boyfriend a sheepish grin.

“At least you didn't scare me that much this time…” Eddie turned and left the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

TWO DAYS UNTIL HALLOWEEN

Today was another easy day. Today he was just going to periodically sneak up on the boy and scare him. This was sure to be fun, even if his boyfriend refused to kiss him before he went home.

The first time he did it before class started, rushing up behind him and grabbing his side's. Eddie flinched and gasped before realizing it was Richie and smacking his arm.

Richie didn't get a good morning kiss.

The second time Richie just saw him in the hallway on accident between classes. Just before the boy reached his classroom, Richie put a hand around his mouth, and his other snaked around his waist. He could hear the muffled scream, before Eddie turned around and stomped all too hard on Richie’s toes.

“God dammit! I thought I was safe on this side of the school!” Eddie huffed.

Richie just grinned, and pecked the boy’s lips, before hopping off to his own class.

The third time had been on accident. He’d just come around a corner and the two of them smacked right into each other. It had startled Eddie enough to drop his books. Maybe not so much as a scare, but it still happened...and Eddie blamed him.

The last time was probably the best. Richie told Eddie to meet him at his truck after school, instead of on the front steps. When Eddie approached his car, Richie hopped out of the bed and landed in front of him, yes, scaring him.

“Fuck you. I’ll walk home.”

It was a fake threat, but Richie decided that was the last one, simply because he wanted to keep a hold of his balls.

ONE DAY UNTIL HALLOWEEN

Richie knew this one would piss Eddie off more than anything. And he almost felt bad, but he was running out of ideas here and tomorrow was the last one. He was going to go easy on Eddie for the last one.

He had invited Eddie over to his house because he knew the other would freak out even more if he'd done this in his room.

But Richie wasn't going to mind if the red didn't come out of his floor. Honestly, it would just be a reminder of this amazing week.

Richie had Bev help him this time. She was rather good at makeup. She made it look like he'd been hit in the back of the head with something. The gash was rather large and real looking and Richie knew Eddie was going to kill him for real this time.

He laid, face down, on his floor, and Bev went to work. She made it look like a real crime scene before shoving herself in the closet and hiding.

It was another ten minutes before Eddie started coming up the stairs.

“Richie you'd better not be planning anything else!”

He could hear him loud and clear.

His bedroom door swung open. “Rich-”

A sob sounded through the room, and Richie felt his heart break. This wasn't a good prank, not at all. He stilled his breathing as much as possible.

Eddie rolled Richie over onto his back and pulled him into his lap, blubbering and crying. Richie could feel tears hitting his cheeks.

Eddie started hyperventilating and that's when Richie knew he had to stop. He sat up quickly and held Eddie's head to his chest. “I’m sorry… I'm sorry…”

Eddie punched him harder than he had the whole time.

HALLOWEEN

Richie had something simple planned for the day. It wasn't a big deal. He really wasn't even planning to do it until later tonight.

So when he rounded the corner in the school, and a scream sounded out, Richie knew he didn't even have to do his prank tonight.

He'd already scared Eddie.

“God damnit, Richie! I'm fucking tired of this shit! Yesterday was fucking terrible! I can't get that image out of my mind, you ass! And now you're hopping around corners to fucking jump scare me?! No! I'm fucking done, Richard.” A finger was jamming harshly into his chest. “I'm. Fucking. Done. You're the worst boyfriend in the goddamn world and I'm not fucking taking it any more! It's over, Richie! I'm not...I can't…”

Richie could physically see Eddie's anger dissolve into exhaustion, and his heart broke. “Hey,...I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have done this… I mean it was fun for a little bit but…” he brushed some of Eddie's hair out of his face. “I just wanted to have money for once. To take you out on a nice date, you know?”

“You did this for money? For me?” Eddie asked, stepping a bit closer to Richie.

“Yeah...I did. I'm sorry it hurt you so much.” Richie pressed his forehead against Eddie's.

“I'm sorry too...for getting mad.” Eddie tells him, voice soft.

“It's okay. I deserved it.” Richie grinned down at Eddie. “But that's it. It's over. I can collect my money and take my boy out on a good damn date.”

“You'd fucking better, Tozier. You're still in the dog house.”

And he did. The day after Halloween, Richie took Eddie to a nice restaurant in Bangor. He let him pick anything he wanted. The bill amounted to about forty dollars for the both of them. After they had full bellies, they went on a short walk in the park, killing time before their movie.

“I’m sorry, again.” Richie told him, lifting his hand up to press a kiss to it.

Eddie shrugged, “It’s okay, just next time tell me what’s happening. If we can get more money out of those guys let's do it.”

Richie grinned down at his boyfriend, “You’re an evil little thing, aren’t you?”

“Did it take you this long to find out?” Eddie teased right back, “You must be a lot slower than I thought, Trashmouth.”

“Hey, that’s not nice.” Richie pouted, bumping his hip softly against Eddie’s.

“Who said I was ever nice?” Eddie retorted, shifting to wrap his arm around his boyfriends waist.

Richie lifted his arm to drape across Eddie’s shoulders.

“Hm...I think Bill said it one time, but I can’t be sure… You know, the stutter and all...makes it a little hard… you know what else is a little hard?”

“Beep beep, Richie!”

[lillikat]

Dear Pervert – An Open Letter.

*Names will not be mentioned so as to protect the guilty. This letter may contain issues which could trigger those with a past history of sexual abuse or harassment - ie: most women*

Dear Pervert,

So we’ve been acquaintances on Twitter for what must be now 6 years or so.  You followed me, and I reciprocated.  I remember as I don’t find and follow many over there, only the truly fascinating, which you did not come under.

You whore your watercolour paintings on Twitter, occasionally asking for feedback and often not actually wanting it.  Just trying to “engage your audience” I suppose.  I gave feedback on works I liked and on aspects that you openly asked for.  Very occasionally you replied to me.  Nice, but busy and possibly rather self involved was my diagnosis of you from these interactions.

I believe you once sent me a spam message, whining about how you wanted me to promote you or join you on Facebook.  I ignored the crap out of that.  Perhaps there was more to that message, now I think about the way you treated me yesterday.

Your watercolours are supposedly amongst the best in the UK with your distinct style which you have given a unique name to (yes bitch, I did look you up and did some light internet homework after our interaction yesterday.  Some of these details were most unflattering, very eye-opening and brought some light to our interaction).  I was happy to retweet on my own terms, as I liked your use of light, perhaps even considered buying one at some point when I actually had money, obviously not now.  I wouldn’t want anything your fuckboy hands have been involved in anywhere near me now.

So despite our complete lack of personal interaction, really getting chatting to each other, you decided to push yourself on me yesterday.  Not the first, nor shall you be the last to demand my attention by DMing me out of nowhere, relying upon the fact I have manners and humanity, knowing that I would not outright ignore a simple greeting.  However, I smelt fuckery straight away.  You see a LOT of men seem to think I am here for their amusement, be that sexual or otherwise.

**Look boys, if your mum didn’t breast feed you enough or hug you, that is not my problem.   If you want me to be your therapist, I require payment and for you, “Dear Pervert” that price is tripled. **

So regardless of my thinking “oh shit, another man looking for a mother or slut and I can’t be titted being either.” I responded to your ill conceived, terribly spelt attempt at communication. Perhaps I was wrong, after all, you try to sell work through this Twitter account, by DM nevertheless, there’s just no way you’d risk your professional reputation by being a creepy man on this account, would you?

Yet you did exactly that.  7 messages, that’s what it took you. No romance, no wooing, no paying attention to social cues like me telling you I am busy working, hinting (so clearly that a dog would have picked up my not so subtleties) that I wanted to be left alone and had no interest in you whatsoever.  You just kept going didn’t you?  Did not give one fuck that you might be making me uncomfortable, annoyed and deeply nauseous.  No, because your dick was in control.  You pathetic sack of crap, you let your base animal instincts override any sense of socially acceptable behaviour that you might have had.

7 messages of me saying I am working and you sending badly spelt trash, bibbling on about how your in bed and so tired.  “Go to sleep then you absolute fanny and stop bothering me I have work to do” was what I was thinking but instead I stated “I am working, I have a lot to do so it will be many hours before I can similarly relax like you are doing.”

You piled on ambiguous emojis like a schoolgirl who’s just got their first smartphone.  “Here check this shit out” I called to my husband as I stated I thought I had yet another live one on DM. That was on your second message - the third in our entire interaction.  Then you witter on about distracting me from work. ”Dear Pervert”, you really should've bowed out but oh no, not you.  You felt entitled didn't you?  You then had me reaffirm my I AM BUSY statement and then sent me a shot of your erection barely clothed by grotty hospital style pyjamas.

What in the name of anything sacred or sane were you thinking?  At no point did I state any interest in your grotty ass.  Not one smidgeon.  Not one cell of my being asked for your vague innuendo then shot of your erection.  Bam! Rank pyjamas and that, in my face.

Thank you, “Dear Pervert”.  Thank you for not reading my timeline or taking any blind bit of notice that I am part of the #metoo movement, part of the #SexAbuseChat survivors.  Only recently found my voice.  Only started to barely grace the depths of my survival and story.  Barely trusting, yet finding strength in the shared stories of my sisters of the internet, stronger perhaps than I can ever be, who have managed to out their pain sooner.  More succinctly than I.

Do you want to know my first thought “Dear Pervert”?  You made me flashback to the time when I was on holiday with my natural father in a Bulgaria.  The last time he forced me to share a room with him. You made me recall those 2 weeks in all their glory.  Buckle up buttercup, because this is what you had me relive and refeel in all it's hideous detail. Part one. The Flasher. Not my first, by now I am in my early teens.  I have faced emotional, physical, psychological and sexual abuse for many years.  That was my secret. I became good at keeping secrets.  But that’s a whole set of tales for another time, “Dear Pervert”.

Back to the flasher.  My second by this point.  I am waiting to get breakfast, it’s a raised static trailer, I am short and have to tiptoe to see over the counter edge.  I place my order, the man says just a minute and exits.  I step back and wait for what must be 5-10 minutes.  I am looking at my shoes, bored and bewildered, when out of my peripheral vision I see the cook come back in, with his dick in his hand, masturbating furiously.  By now, I know what to do. I am a child and already had faced so much worse.  "Reaction, this shitbag wants me to give anything" was my first thought.  Now my first flasher I shot down in flames by pointing at his penis and in my loudest, best stage laugh proclaimed if that’s all he had he’d better see a surgeon.  This one deserved more and less.  I immediately looked down at my watch swore about this guy being a lazy so and so, then walked off in the opposite direction to the nearest busy shop.  I was shaking,  I thought I was going to pass out or throw up.  I walked slowly so he wouldn’t know I saw him, then sped up gradually, afraid this man was going to chase after me.

Part two. Daddy Dearest. I got back to the hotel room I shared with my father, telling him about the incident in full detail, as soon as he arrived.  Surely he will do something or know who to tell, was my logic.  No, in my natural father’s true style, he decided this would be the perfect occasion to show me his throbbing penis.  Again for no reason.  We were both reading later, after dinner.  Father was in his underpants & t-shirt, which until then never bothered me.  He then yelled jovially “hey what do you think of this?” and as I looked over at his bed he whipped down his underwear to reveal my second unwanted erection of the day.  Again “Dear Pervert” I cannot underline, that even at this tender age, I was not a person to be reckoned with.

Let me break this down for those who have never experienced true fear.  Seconds, feel like hours.  Your heart races, you feel giddy, throat goes dry you swallow - it’s sand, you feel the shaking start, the adrenaline has kicked it now you have an eternity in this moment of horror.  Sadly, I had lived here before.  Many times. Fortunately, I have learned how to construct complex battle plans in those uncomfortable moments.  A few seconds was all I needed.

I took one look at my natural father’s erection, raised an eyebrow and told him he should take that shit on children’s TV as a puppet act.  Perhaps the broom cupboard on CBBC would take his act? I then went back to reading my book.  I knew if I had reacted in any other way, we would have issues.  Joke it off, brush it off as just a bit of fun then jam in the fact YOU ARE A CHILD in large letters, in hopes he will see.  From that moment on, things between my father and I got worse.  The brutal reality I had to face was that my father wanted me.  Completely, in every sense of the word.  My everything. I had to run. I had to survive, again.  This had become my normality. I could never let him know that I had been here before.  I knew even then, he would see that information as some sort of gateway for him to start full on abuse mode.  I was not about to let that happen.

So to put it succinctly “Dear Pervert” you triggered memories of my father.  For that I hate you.

In your scale of thinking it’s nothing, your junk was technically covered.  No, no and NO. No means no, by the way. Drinking is not an excuse ever (looks like this excuse might be a habit for you “Dear Pervert”, again you made me look you up).

As for having a bad week, which was the main crux of your excuse.  A bad week?  Try having a hellish couple of years in which you almost lose every damn thing including your sanity and will to live.  I’ve had that and not once sent pics of my flaps to random internet men.  I think I might be able to speak on behalf of most women and say none of us would do that shit ever.  I mean genitals are not attractive.

You don’t even remotely tickle my turnip “Dear Pervert” so why in god’s name would you think “oooh my barely covered erection is just what this conversation needs”?

You sir are a fuckwit.  A massive gaping, diseased one at that.  I have spent a day and a half by now (yeah writing this much vitriol takes time, it’s a craft) hating you “Dear Pervert” for the following reasons.

1: You hold a position of power.  Lots of followers on Twitter, prolific artist, seemingly professional.  I am an artist, just starting out, being sneered at for my style by the likes of bigwigs such as you.  That is why I spoke to you on DM, that is why I gave you the time of day.  I thought we shared a common passion, that you might be wanting to talk shop or art.  You entered into a contract of trust and you pissed all over it.  That’s what you’re doing when you randomly seek attention from a woman on the internet by the way. If they give you the time of day back, count your blessings behave like a gentleman and keep your dick where it belongs.  Off my DMs and not in my face.  You abused your position of power.  For shame!

2: Right at the exact time your fuckery started my dog decided to start violently throwing up.  Yet I had to take time out to yell at you & report you.  So I’m just blaming you for my dog being sick, because I think she saw your pathetic wang and it made her chuck.  That’s what I’m telling myself anyway.  It pleases me to do so.

3: I have had panic attacks, stomach aches & headaches since, thanks to the constant supply of panic adrenaline that my body seems to use as some form of defence.  My heart has been racing, I can’t sleep & can’t eat.  So thank you for that trauma.

4: You didn’t even care when I yelled at you and told you that I am not here to be an object of sexual gratification nor amusement to internet randoms, that I was a human with actual real feeligns attached to them.  I also informed you that I am married, and again I didn’t want your pervy nonsense.  Now every letter is riddled with hidden intent and double entendre.  Every character takes on new meaning in light of your behaviour.  You gave me eye rolled emoji like a fucking child.  You make me sick.

5: I now worry about the safety of other women on the internet. Oh but fear not “Dear Pervert” the whisper network is in effect. I can’t out you here, but I absolutely can tell my loved ones to avoid you like a dose of virulent crabs.  They have been told you are not professional and you are not a safe person.  I think we can both agree on those very simple facts.  My ladies will give you wide berth, they will tell other women who will tell other women who will tell other women.  So in short if you’ve done this before (which I have to believe you have & much worse) it will come out eventually.  If you really were just showing your dick to me and I was your special first, note if you do this again, the network will get stronger.  Why?  Because we are looking out for one another in trying times, as only real, actual humans do.

With that “Dear Pervert” I sign off.

Know the pain you have caused me and know you just pushed me to out pain and truth that I have never done before.  You broke me, now there might be a landslide of cathartic outings here.

Sisters of the internet!  You are not alone, together we are stronger.  You there reading this, yes you.  You are a Goddess.  No you are, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Men, treat every woman as the Goddess she is.  After all women have paid homage to your masculinity for aeons.  Return the favour.

If we all treat each other as Gods & Goddesses, with the full respect that holds, perhaps there might be less of this infestation of men believing they have privilege over woman’s domain.  Because random internet boys, we owe you nothing not one thing, therefore you have no right to demand anything from us ever.

We are not your sex toys.

We have feelings.

Yours Blistering with Rage

L

[youmightaswell]

Jerks and Caicos: Putting the ‘Eye’ in Island

If you may recall, I recently reunited with a quirky ex-boyfriend who I dated back in ‘95 when I was 25 and he was 40. We dated on and off for nearly 10 years and then later, when I got married, he abruptly stopped speaking with me even though we had been strictly platonic friends for years.

Recently, after not speaking for 15 years we reconnected because his mom died and he reached out to alert me. He was apparently feeling nostalgic. 

We decided we’d go on vacation together as friends to Club Med in Turks and Caicos because we had gone back in ‘98 when we were hot and heavy and had such a great time. Let’s just say the trip was eventful and full of hiccups, or eye rolls, if you will.

Aside from the Seinfeldian hilarity that ensued when I battled against my version of the “white whale” that I recently recounted in this essay “The Old Man and the Sea Cabana...” something far earthshattering -- or shall I say eyeshattering?-- happened.

***

On my only recent visit to this ex’s house I was panicked because of the immense clutter and collection of meaningless things he has begun keeping --  like his huge jar of dirty rubber bands (because his dad owned them), huge other jar of keys that open nothing, and shelves of bandages. Foam and wood chips were in every crevice, because he fashions himself an artist and might want to make a collage. Not an inch of wall space exists and lest you think it is covered with pricey or aesthetically pleasing art, instead random tickets are affixed with scotch tape and other meaningless papers best left in a trash pile are prominently displayed. Stacks upon stacks of things are everywhere. There is a child’s small desk blocking a window, his couch is on risers to fit more stuff beneath, as is his bed, and he has stuff in his linen closet – empty bottles – I left back in 2003 when I was there last.

But, hey, he seems to have some fear of loss and unresolved grief, so live and let live. 

Quirky, for sure, but he has great qualities as well: he is very creative, successful and has an extremely dry wit. 

Right before I left his apartment, though, I noticed he had a display of near-empty cologne and perfume bottles at his entrance and I asked about them. None were visually pretty or anything one should want to display. I wondered about their significance. As I was questioning him he grabbed a spray bottle and said it was face mist and went to spray me in the face. I balked, realizing it wasn’t the face spray he thought it was, but rather a hair product. Thankfully I avoided the mist, he looked closer and realized his mistake, apologized and I left to catch a cab without further incident.

But remember this because it’s what we in the writing biz call “foreshadowing.”

***

On the morning of our trip I met my ex at the airport with near-perfect timing. We walked through security together even though he whined about having TSA Global Entry and being annoyed at using the “regular” line. We whizzed through and sat at the gate. I noticed he had a lot of bags. Like bags in bags. Seriously I counted seven bags inside his bag. Now I knew his check-in suitcase had a miniature guitar (more on that in a later essay), fins (again, more on that in a later essay) even though the hotel provides full snorkel equipment and other unnecessary items. Because I know my ex also has seven rugs piled on top of each other in his home and keeps ordering more on Amazon, I assumed this was just another hoarding tendency. 

I asked him what he had in one of his multiple fanny packs and he quickly pulled out a bottle and said, “Face spray” and before I could stop him – I screamed a slow mo “Stoppppppp!!!!!” – I felt burning pain in both of my eyes. I grabbed the offensive bottle and even with tears pouring out of my eyes I noticed it did NOT say, “Soothing face mist” like he thought and instead emblazoned on the label was, “Drybar Mai Tai Spritzer Sea Salt Spray”. Yup, the idiot had just sprayed me straight in the eyes with ‘beach hair, don’t care’ salt spray. It was then my sight went on vacation without me. Because we were about ready to board I could only pull out the contacts quickly and give them a good rinse before getting on the plane. I did not have my glasses so I was forced to sit for the three and a half hour flight with sticky contacts and only a less-than-three oz bottle of saline.

After we landed, got our luggage and boarded the shuttle to our hotel, we had to further wait for our luggage to be deposited outside our room, which wasn’t ready. We were encouraged to grab a bite to eat before the dining area closed for the afternoon.

Finally, after hours of irritated eyes, I was able to take out my contacts and put on my glasses.

Not the greatest start to a tropical trip. I hated going to dinner in my thick glasses and knew that trying to sit in the sun sans sunglasses and going into the water without contacts was a no-go.

The next morning I awoke around 5am with my eyes sealed shut, crusty, and in pain. Without waking my oblivious ex, I threw on some clothes, crusty eyes, messy hair and still sleepy, and went to the reception desk in the hopes there was a resort doctor on call. Unlucky for me it was a Saturday and the nurse would not be in until 9am. A quick Google search showed me there was an Urgent Care with an eye clinic open on Saturdays from 9am-1pm so I arranged to get transportation there. The hotel nurse came an hour early and checked me at 8am. She did an extended eye rinse and then the hotel transported me along with one of their sick young staff members to their urgent care facility.

It was a bit scary driving into the innards of Turks and Caicos barely being able to see, with an uncommunicative cab driver and a gorgeous young 22-year old year resort worker who didn’t speak much English.  Would we be trafficked? Surely I’m too old to be trafficked, right? 

We were cruising further and further from the busy tourist areas and all I could wonder was if I was about begin what would be an international version of Dateline, wearing nothing but a bikini, flip flops and a t-shirt that now ironically said “PARADISE” on the front.

It was a fairly long ride and I had no idea how to call a cab to return. More so, I was nervous I’d spend hours of my trip waiting in a crowded emergency room and have the first full day of my trip ruined. 

Much to my chagrin I saw as I neared the facility, it was packed with sick people. I entered, the only tourist among them, and my ears were assaulted with the screams of many sick babies. 

Thankfully the hotel had apparently notified them about me, and I was seen instantly, while the native onlookers stared at me with disdain. I felt awful that I was being greeted like a celeb, waved right through, while others, far sicker than I were kept waiting. But not so bad that I turned down my place at the front of the line. 

The ophthalmologist was amazingly nice and efficient and the place was equipped with all the latest in optical technology. He did a comprehensive eye exam and saw both eyes were infected and the left had a corneal abrasion. He confiscated the hair spritz and told me, “Your partner is an idiot.”

Within 20 minutes I was leaving with antibiotics, steroids and sterile eye drops. Efficient, effective and cheap! The whole thing in an ER setting only came to $150 - even without any insurance.

Even the pharmacy bags were adorbs:

We told the front desk of the medical facility to call us a cab to return to our hotel but island time is indeed a thing. The receptionist relayed that t would “be there in 10 minutes” three times before I flagged down a random cab and asked if he could take me. Sketchy as fuck he cited a price nearly double what we paid so I declined. What to do? How safe would trying to hitchhike in Turks be? 

Finally the medical facility called again and said they had forgotten to send our ride but the owner was coming himself from the airport to drive us. Another 30 minutes went by and we were finally headed back. On the way, the driver took a turn down a scary dirt road and stopped in front of a shack. Always ready to stay sexy and not get murdered I wished the doctor had not confiscated the offending eye spray because at least I could use it as a weapon if need be. Thankfully the cabbie was only picking up his daughter and we were on our way again shortly.

***

I was at the beach by 10:30am, bikini clad and annoyed I was in glasses. I had not told my ex my plans and just thought it better to handle it myself. I didn’t want any drama, am an adult who had traveled alone extensively and didn’t want to get into any argument or discussion with him. I knew he hadn’t done it on purpose but that it was representative of his behavior years ago when we were dating – which ultimately lead to our romantic demise. Even though so much older, I found him then (and now) lacking in any sort of impulse control and he clearly lacked respect for others around him, particularly younger women.

I know “Elliott Spritzer” felt bad and so I chose to not ruin my trip any further so simply went to the beach to resume my vacation. I told him briefly what happened, that I handled it and he would be expected to pay for any medical bills and related transport. Beyond that I accepted his apology and wanted to move on. He offered to pay for my full $3K portion of the trip, but while I would have liked that, I didn’t allow him to because I knew it would allow him to think what he did was ok. He did pay for my massage and the additional lobster fees nightly so we could have reserved seating for the rest of our stay.

I felt good about my reaction to this blip. In the distant past I would have been super dramatic, the whole trip would have been horrible and I would have cried and felt miserable. I was very proud of myself staying calm, being mature and handling a messy situation quickly and efficiently without any undue drama. I realize I can’t control my ex’s idiotic actions, but I could control my responses to them and anyone else’s. 

***

Sun and corneal abrasions don’t mix, just like oil, water and human eyes, so I had to sit most of the trip in the shade and not swim which was a bummer. Still, I ended up having a pretty great trip, thankful for the sun, sea and sand -- and having it for the most part stay out of my inner eye. 

*** 

Years ago I often wondered how my life would have been different if I had ended up marrying my ex. I often mentally lamented the end of our long relationship. However, while this trip almost blinded me, it also provide clarity. It made me see very clearly that even though I was doubtful, I actually made the right life choices. 

***

Ever the jokester -- and by jokester I mean asshole --  my ex send me this upon our return: https://www.amazon.com/DRYBAR-Mai-Spritzer-Salt-Spray/dp/B00LX54J1M

***

Hopefully next vacation I can keep the “sight” in sightseeing. :-/