#lets not name names but oh boy what a doozy that was | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoseokhasmyheartxx · 1 year

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Package Deal | MYG & JHS

*Pairing: Yoongi x f!Reader x Hoseok

*Word Count: 10k 😵‍💫

*Genre: EXPLICIT SMUT, MINORS DNI, let's be honest it's pwp, a bit of fluff, non-idol au, spring break au

*Warnings: *takes deep breath* here we go... mentions of past cheating, alcohol consumption, mentions of past violence, recreational weed use, the boys are a bad influence on mc in more ways than one, boys have to convince mc to participate, piv sex, oral (m., f. receiving), one (1) ass slap, breast/nipple play, it's a 3sum y'all, overstimulation (m., f. receiving), MxM undertones (nothing too explicit but.. there's a bit), cum swallowing (f), cum eating (MxM), use of pet names 'love' and 'baby', dom!Hoseok, switch!Yoongi, switch!Reader, protected and unprotected sex (be smart, ya perverts), begging (f, m), mentions of contraception, mc calls Yoongi 'good boy', 'good girl' is used too, mc squirts, aftercare, non-sexual shared showering... i think that's it

*Summary: Years have passed since you graduated high school in your small town. Spring break rolls around, and some familiar faces are back in town. You've always been the town's good girl. Will those familiar faces change that for you?

*A/N: oh boy. guys, this is just absolute filth and i am sorry (but also not). sope smut demons just took over and i dont even know where this shit came from. stay hydrated friends, this one's a doozy! 🤪

Part of btsafterdarknet's the boys are back in town event

Main Masterlist

“There’s a what next weekend?” you asked Soo-ah, reading the social media invite you’d both just received.

“TEN-YEAR REUNION SPRING BREAK PARTY” flashed on the screen in front of you. Below it, details and RSVP information were spelled out in italics. You groaned, knowing what was coming next.

“Oh! We have to go! Please?!” Soo-ah pleaded. You had done your best to block out the memories of the four years you’d spent in the hell called high school. It hadn’t been particularly torturous, but you were nothing short of ecstatic to leave that place, and the people, behind you when you first entered college. Soo-ah, on the other hand, still regularly saw friends from high school and reminisced on her time there. It didn’t surprise you that she’d want to attend this reunion.

“Seriously? It’s been ten years. I don’t want anything to do with those people!” you defended. Spending a Saturday night with people you barely remembered wasn’t exactly on your bingo card for the year, but apparently Soo-ah was going to be the one to handwrite it into the free space that was leftover.

“I don’t care. We’re going!” she responded, making the decision for you as she texted the RSVP number to confirm both of your attendance. You sighed, knowing you weren’t going to change her mind no matter what you tried.

“Fine. But you owe me,” you said, letting out an exasperated breath, rolling your eyes at your best friend. She was a pain in the ass, but you loved her. She’d stuck by your side for the last fifteen years, and had put up with her fair share of nonsense from you, so you could suffer through one night of nonsense for her.

Grocery shopping at night, alone, was one of your favorite things to do. The stores were always empty, peaceful. You meandered through the aisles, erasing items from the list on your phone as you tossed them into your cart. Stopping in front of the pasta section, you reached above your head to grab a box of your favorite, but it was just out of your reach. Bracing yourself on one of the shelves, you stood on your tiptoes, hoping those few extra inches would be enough for you to grab the box you wanted. Your fingertips only grazed the box, but just as you were about to give up on that particular brand, a lanky arm reached from just behind you and grabbed the box for you.

“Oh, thank— Hobi?” you asked incredulously as you took the box from his hand.

“The one and only, baby. I thought that was you. You haven’t changed a bit,” he answered, cocky smile matching his tone.

Jung Hoseok, better known as Hobi back in high school, was the town’s ex-resident bad boy, half (a very hot half) of a very well-known duo. He and his friends were always up to something, wreaking havoc everywhere they went. Constantly in detention, throwing wild parties, spending all of their free time getting high and definitely not doing any homework. His reputation as a player was well-known amongst everyone, too. From what you remembered, there probably wasn’t a single person in his crowd who he hadn’t slept with at one point or another. You’d steered clear of them, trying your hardest to maintain your girl next door image and straight-A record, hoping to gain admittance to the private university one city over. Your efforts had prevailed, and you were proud of the success you’d worked so hard to maintain over the last ten years.

“What are you doing back?” is all you could think to ask. It was eleven o’clock on a Thursday night, and you hadn’t seen Hobi, or any of his old friends, in years. Running into him here was nothing short of surprising.

“Didn’t you hear? The reunion is Saturday. Couldn’t miss that,” he shrugged.

“Ah. Yeah, should’ve figured. Soo-ah and I are going too.”

He chuckled, responding only with, “Well, I’ll see you ladies on Saturday then. How is Soo-ah, by the way?” He winked as he walked away, leaving you standing awkwardly at your cart, box of pasta still clutched in your hand.

As you wandered the aisles, finishing up your shopping, you couldn’t help but think, just our luck. You knew that Soo-ah had been involved with Hobi during your senior year. It had been just a casual thing. They were never exclusive, according to him. Unfortunately, Soo-ah had had her heart broken when she found that out. You wondered how she’d feel seeing him again. But then, you wondered…

Would he be there too?

You and Soo-ah walked to the entrance of the restaurant together. The reunion was being hosted at a large brewery in downtown. You’d only been there a few times before, but you knew it had a large open area for mingling, good food and drinks, but it was especially dark inside. Entering the restaurant, you were met with a sudden wave of chatter and laughter, loud music blaring. The place had basically been turned into a nightclub of sorts, making your stomach churn. You weren’t one to frequent places with loud music or crowds, but here you were, doing both for some stupid high school reunion.

“Let’s go grab a drink and find some of our old friends!” Soo-ah suggested as she pulled you by the arm toward the bar. Trying to calm your nerves, you settled on a mojito, knowing the alcohol in it would make you relax. Soo-ah ordered her usual drink that was probably ninety percent alcohol, making you turn your nose up at the smell wafting off her glass as she picked it up. You took a sip of your drink, eyes scanning the crowd for any familiar faces. You had to admit, you barely remembered anyone, but for Soo-ah, that wasn’t the case. She had already pointed out multiple people she wanted to catch up with.

Voices and faces all blurred together as Soo-ah dragged you from one group to another. You exchanged pleasantries, but frankly, you weren’t really interested in reliving the so-called glory days of high school with people you never even spoke to. It seemed like all everyone wanted to do was brag about their lives, which you were not interested in doing. Finishing your drink, you politely excused yourself, heading back to the bar for another round. Thankfully, there were a few open bar stools left, so you plopped down on one, waiting to get the bartender’s attention.

“This seat taken?” came a deep, low voice to your left. Turning your head to see the owner of the voice, your jaw dropped when you saw him.

Min Yoongi. The other half of the infamous duo you spent years trying to avoid. Except for the fact that, this half? Yeah, this half was the half you’d actively pined over all of high school. You knew he was bad news then, so all you’d done was admire him from afar. Not that he even knew who you were anyway.

“Uh.. um, no. Go ahead,” you responded, signaling to the bartender again, really needing another drink to get through whatever conversation was about to occur. Finally catching his eye, you breathed a sigh of relief as the bartender approached you.

“What can I get you?” the older man asked you with a gentle smile on his face. You rattled off your order, and he turned toward Yoongi. The smile previously on his face fell immediately. “Yoongi.”

“Mr. Cho. I’m good, I swear,” Yoongi defended, hands up as if in surrender. You tried to read the expression on his face, but failed. It was almost like… regret? Apology? You weren’t sure.

“Last time you were here, we closed with hundreds of dollars worth of damage because of you and your friends. A fight, if I remember correctly,” Mr. Cho continued, arms crossed over his chest.

Your eyes jumped between the two men, unsure if you should interrupt, stay quiet, leave? You decided, against your better judgment, to remain in your seat and stay quiet.

“That was years ago, Mr. Cho. I’m not like that anymore, promise,” Yoongi explained, going so far as to hold his pinky finger up in front of the older man, swearing on… something.

Mr. Cho rolled his eyes and continued, “What do you want?”

Yoongi ordered a glass of whiskey, neat. But what he said next took you by surprise. “Add hers to my tab, too.”

“Um— no, I’m fine. You don’t need to do that,” you interrupted, looking at him with a confused look on your face. All he did in response was wave his hand at you, as if to say, nonsense.

Mr. Cho turned away to prepare both of your drinks, leaving you and Yoongi alone at the bar.

“I’m ____,” you started awkwardly.

“I know who you are. How could I not? Hobi dated your friend for a bit, yeah?” he asked, taking a sip from the glass Mr. Cho placed in front of him.

Picking up your mojito, you gulped down more than you’d planned, but you weren’t a quitter. You swallowed, trying not to show the grimace playing at your lips.

“Not sure dated is the proper word, but yeah. Soo-ah was seeing him senior year. Until he conveniently forgot to mention to her that he was also seeing two other girls,” you snapped back.

Yoongi snickered, tipping his glass toward you. “Hey, from what I heard, they never had the ‘exclusive’ talk. So you can’t blame him,” he said with a half-shrug.

You couldn’t help rolling your eyes at him. Typical Yoongi, you thought. Defending Hobi like he’d done nothing wrong, even though he knew that wasn’t the case, was something he’d always done over the years. You weren’t sure why he even hung out with him, because they weren’t the same. Yoongi never really gave the impression that he was willingly going along with a lot of Hobi’s antics, but what did you know? You didn’t really know them.

“Hey. I’m not Hobi, alright? Take that shit out on him if you want. He’s over there,” he pointed, “but remember, it’s been ten years. And Soo-ah doesn’t seem to care.”

Turning around, you saw Soo-ah in a big group of people, Hobi included, laughing and drinking. She wasn’t really acknowledging his presence, but she wasn’t exactly ignoring him, either. Rolling your eyes, you realized that he was probably right.

“Sorry. Old grudges die hard, I guess.”

“It’s alright. How’s life been for you?” he asked.

The two of you fell into easy conversation then. Where and for what you’d gone to college, jobs, how you spent your free time. It was like talking to an old friend, but also, not really.

“So, yeah. My job is basically always stressful. This is the first time in, like, months that I’ve been out and haven’t gotten a call from my boss,” you finished. You moved to take another sip of your drink, but to your dismay, it was already empty. You frowned, looking over at Yoongi as he did the same thing. You erupted into a fit of giggles, and he followed suit, laughing heartily along with you.

“Damn,” you said, shaking your head, “didn’t realize I drank that that fast.”

“Want another?”

“No, I probably shouldn’t. I get hungover really easily and that’s the last thing I need,” you explained.

“Hmm. You ever smoked weed?” Yoongi questioned.

“Do I look like someone who’s ever smoked weed, Yoongi?” you laughed out. The thought alone was hysterical to you. The fact that he would think you had smoked before was even funnier. You had never done anything even remotely illegal; no underage drinking, no shoplifting, and surely no drug use. You were known as the goody two-shoes your entire life, and you knew that he knew that.

“Well, no,” Yoongi admitted with a laugh, “but you should give it a try. It’ll wipe that stress away so fast, you won’t even notice it anymore.”

You gave him an incredulous look, thinking that he definitely had to be joking. There was no way you were about to blemish your perfect reputation by smoking weed to relieve stress.

“I can show you,” Yoongi deadpanned, “if you want.”

You shook your head, laughing at him. “No thanks, I’m alright.”

Yoongi reached out and ran his fingers along the back of your hand. He looked at you, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“C’mon, live a little. Can’t you have some fun for once?”

“Min Yoongi. You don’t know me. Who says I don’t have fun?”

“Well, you’ve never smoked weed. That alone says you don’t have enough fun,” he chuckled.

You rolled your eyes. But the nagging voice in your head was beginning to eat away at you. Ten years ago, you would’ve done anything to get even the smallest bit of attention from Min Yoongi. And now, you were sitting here, having a one-on-one conversation with him for almost an hour, he was offering to spend even more time with you, and you were declining. Why?

It wasn’t in your nature to make impulsive decisions. You had meticulously thought-out plans for everything you did. But your intrusive thoughts were winning tonight, no matter how hard you fought them.

“Alright. Show me.”

Yoongi cocked his brow, seemingly surprised that you’d agreed. Before you had the chance to change your mind, however, he was standing, leaving a few bills on the bar to pay his tab, and grabbing your hand, leading you through the crowded restaurant and out the door.

The cool spring breeze outside was refreshing. You took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air. Walking a few steps behind Yoongi, hand still in his, you stumbled a bit, the alcohol catching up to you more now that you weren’t sitting.

“You good?” came Yoongi’s voice from ahead of you.

“Yepp, all good. Lead the way,” you giggled. You were pleasantly buzzed, and you hoped the feeling remained until you were confident enough around him without it. He led you down the crowded street, never letting go of your hand, until you reached a high-rise building, hotel name illuminated in the night sky.

“We’re staying here this weekend. C’mon,” he gestured toward the building.

Five minutes later, the two of you exited the elevator on the eleventh floor, and Yoongi guided you toward his room.

The fact that he had said ‘we’ downstairs was lost on you until he opened the door, holding it open for you to follow after him. You entered the room, setting your purse down on the dresser, and you noticed a third person already in the room, standing at the cracked-open window, joint between his fingers.

Hobi.

“___? No shit,” Hobi blurted out with a laugh, coughing a bit on his inhale.

“She needs to relax,” Yoongi explained, sly smirk on his face. You shrugged, unsure what to say other than to agree with him.

Hobi shot you a confused glance, obviously not expecting you to be one to join them in their late-night smoke session. “With us?”

“Shut up,” you snapped out in response, the words coming out more tense than you’d planned.

“Damn. You do need to relax,” Hobi laughed out. Yoongi had already joined him at the window, taking the joint from his hand and taking a hit for himself. He held the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds before slowly blowing it out the window. After letting out all of his inhale, he turned to face you. You were still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, not sure where to go or what to do.

“C’mere, love,” Yoongi said, beckoning you over to them. You didn’t miss the pet name he’d used, but you chose to ignore it. Walking hesitantly over to the window, you joined the two men, resting your body weight on the window sill with your elbow, facing them.

Yoongi and Hobi exchanged knowing glances as Hobi took another drag, puffing the smoke out calmly. His eyes were already appearing glazed over, a serene air overtaking his normal exuberant self. He held the joint out to you, a sickly sweet smile on his face.

“Your turn, baby,” Hobi breathed out, watching as you took it from him. You held the joint between your fingers, unsure what to do next. You began to feel stupid, like you definitely shouldn’t be there, until Yoongi took it back, taking a quick hit before speaking.

“We’ll take care of you. Don’t worry,” he reassured you, holding the joint up and putting it between your lips, “Just inhale a bit, slowly. Hold it in for a second, then let it out.”

Even with following his instructions, you still coughed a bit (or maybe a lot), but neither of them said anything. You were expecting Hobi to make fun of you, to say something sarcastic about you being too innocent, but he didn’t. Instead, he just watched you, silently observing. His dark eyes, although glazed over, still intimidated you after all these years. For whatever reason, you could never figure out why, but he had always had a very intense aura to him.

Thirty minutes later, the three of you had settled into a very comfortable, very giggly high. Hobi and Yoongi were sprawled out on their beds, while you stretched out sideways over an armchair, looking at the ceiling. The relaxation you felt was like nothing you’d ever experienced. You felt like you were floating, fully embracing the euphoria. Your brain was lagging a bit, taking extra seconds to decipher whatever Hobi and Yoongi were discussing. You had to admit, you still didn’t know, and you had barely been listening, so you only caught the tail end of their conversation.

“No! That’s ridiculous,” Hobi yelled out, a hand over his belly as he curled into the fetal position, laughing. Yoongi was laughing too, and then it became infectious, impossible for you to avoid following suit.

A few minutes of uncontrollable laughter later, Hobi got up from his bed to use the bathroom. You and Yoongi fell into silence as he disappeared. It didn’t surprise you that Hobi was even more obnoxious while high than he was normally, but you were struggling to figure out how Yoongi was taking his own high. He was giggly, just like you and Hobi, but other than that, he seemed almost like his normal, quiet self, maybe even quieter.

“Hey,” Yoongi spoke suddenly.

Tilting your head upside down to look at him as best as you could from your position, you responded, “Hey, yourself.”

“C’mere,” he called, holding an outstretched hand to you.

Brow cocked, you lifted yourself from the armchair and stumbled over to the side of his bed, looking at him quizzically, arms holding you up as you rested your palms on the mattress.

“What’s up?” you questioned.

“I’m just gonna be honest with you. I get stupid affectionate when I’m high. Come lay with me,” Yoongi requested.

“Uh— why me? Can’t you cuddle with Hobi or something?” you asked him, laughing at your own suggestion.

Yoongi laughed, but then declined your offer, shaking his head.

“Been there, done that. He gets weird,” he explained, looking up at you from his spot on the bed, head resting on his outstretched arm. “Besides, you’re a lot cuter than him anyway,” he finished, putting on a smirk.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his admission, unsure if it was the weed talking or if it was how he really felt. But his eyes never left you, and he stretched his arm out more, making grabby hands at you.

“Please, love?” he asked again, puppy eyes on full display. You cocked an eyebrow, watching as his facial expression turned to full-blown begging before you.

You sighed, turning to sit on the bed next to him. “Fine,” you said with an exasperated breath.

Before you had a chance to think, Yoongi was wrapping his arms around you, pulling you down to lay next to him. He snuggled into your side, attaching himself to you like a koala would a tree, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. It was a little awkward at first, but before long, you had relaxed more, sinking into the mattress underneath you.

“You two comfortable?” a voice came from the other side of the room, laughter erupting from Hobi as he flicked the main lights off and flopped down on his bed again. You and Yoongi laughed along with him, and you couldn’t help but to turn into his embrace, enjoying his warmth and the feeling of his body against yours. You draped your arm over him, drawing patterns on his back over his shirt, hearing him sigh with what you could only describe as bliss.

The room slipped into mostly comfortable silence, aside from Hobi watching funny videos on his phone, laughing out loud at almost all of them. Yoongi had fallen into a deep state of contentment, his breathing almost even with yours, as you continued rubbing his back. Without even noticing it yourself, you slipped your hand under the back of his shirt, wanting more contact with him, and his breath caught.

“This okay?” you asked him, not wanting to push any boundaries of his. He let out a hum, resting his arm over your lower stomach, fingertips dancing at your hip.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this relaxed,” Yoongi sighed, “you’re so fucking comfortable.”

You laughed. “Me too. And you’re warm.”

As the minutes passed, you noticed his hand slowly moving upward until his fingers were grazing your collarbone, drifting onto your neck. His face was still buried in the other side of your neck, but you felt him lift his head slightly as he whispered in your ear.

“You’re really, really hot.”

You whipped your head to the side, scooting back a little so you could see him better.

“Huh?” you asked incredulously, trying to suppress your laughter again.

He pulled you closer, lips pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the crook of your neck. You froze, your skin igniting under his touch. Your breathing hitched in your throat, your head spinning.

“I could make you feel so good,” he whispered, peppering kisses up your neck, his tongue occasionally darting out to lick at your skin.

“Yoongi, what the fuck?” you whispered back, laughter coming out this time. You weren’t sure if it was from the weed or your nerves, but you couldn’t stop giggling.

He, on the other hand, was not laughing.

“I’m serious,” he cocked his head at you, a wicked smile playing on his lips, “I know you feel it, too.”

You couldn’t deny that he was right. You weren’t usually a very touchy person, but from the minute he’d cuddled up against you, your brain had been short circuiting, the nerves under your skin like a live wire against him. You took a shaky breath, unsure how to respond. But then, a thought crossed your mind.

“What about Hobi?” you questioned, voice still a whisper, not wanting to attract the other man’s attention.

Yoongi snickered, hand moving to cup your cheek, as he closed in on you. Landing a soft kiss on your lips, he replied, “What about him?”

Suddenly, he was kissing you, the hand on your cheek moving to your neck, pulling you closer. His mouth engulfed yours, consuming you with desire. Your hand squeezed his waist from under his shirt, using the grip to pull your body against his. He ran his tongue along your lower lip, eliciting a quiet moan from you. He pulled back, breathing heavily, your faces still almost touching.

“We always wondered what it would be like to ruin you,” came a voice from behind you. You gasped. At some point in the time that you’d been distracted with Yoongi, Hobi had seen what was going on between the two of you, gotten out of bed, and walked to your side of Yoongi’s bed, all without you noticing.

You bolted upright, looking like a deer in headlights as you realized that you’d been caught. Nothing had really even happened, but your heart was about to beat out of your chest. Your nerves were on fire, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. Yoongi, however, was still laying down, eyes darting calmly between you and Hobi.

“Woah, woah. What do you mean, we?” you said, voice no longer a whisper, but a low shriek.

Hobi chuckled, shrugging his shoulders as he answered, “I said what I said. We’re kind of a package deal, baby.”

“What do you think, love?” came Yoongi’s deep voice from your other side.

You sat there, looking between the two men, brain still lagging from your high. Your relaxed state had quickly devolved into shock. You opened and closed your mouth, unable to find the words to respond.

“Let us make you feel good,” Hobi proposed, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder, fingers brushing along your skin gently.

“We won’t do anything you don’t want. But, from experience, fucking while high is so good,” Yoongi stated matter-of-factly.

You took a deep breath, your brain finally catching up with your mouth so you could speak.

“Uh- I’ve never.. um..” you started, trying to put the words together.

Yoongi sat up next to you, resting a hand on your thigh and squeezing it reassuringly. “We know. We can take care of you, love.”

You shuddered, breathing becoming erratic as you contemplated their proposition. Before tonight, you would have never even considered doing something like this. But your high, combined with how turned on you were from Yoongi’s efforts earlier, was clouding your judgment.

“If you’re uncomfortable, we’ll drop it and forget this ever happened. Go back to relaxing, get some food maybe. But if you’re into this…” Hobi continued, moving his hand to play with your neck and jawline, sending chills down your spine.

“Say yes. We promise you won’t regret it,” Yoongi finished, running his hand along your thigh as he leaned in to kiss you again.

You sighed as you returned his kiss, pulling back after a few seconds.

“Okay,” you finally decided, heart threatening to beat out of your chest. You watched as the two men looked at each other, exchanging understanding glances.

Then, without warning, Yoongi pulled you into an intense kiss. You melted into it, pliant under his lips, leaning into him as he gripped the back of your neck tightly. Your tongues danced, Yoongi eliciting a quiet moan from you as he sucked your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping at it gently. You held onto the side of his shirt tightly, knuckles turning white as you felt yourself get lost in him. Suddenly, you felt a second set of hands on you, running up and down your sides from behind you.

“Let us see,” Hobi whispered in your ear, tugging lightly at the hem of your shirt. You nodded against Yoongi’s mouth, giving him permission, willing yourself not to get too self-conscious. These were two of the most attractive men you’d ever laid eyes on, and they wanted you. It was hard to accept that fact in your mind, but what was happening in reality proved it to you. Hobi pulled the shirt off you in one swift motion, running his hands down your back, tracing the band of your bra as he did. His soft fingers danced along your spine, unhooking the band expertly. He pushed the shoulder straps down your front, letting Yoongi take over by pulling them the rest of the way off your arms and tossing the bra to the floor.

Hobi’s tight grip on your shoulders tore you out of your trance, still dizzy from being devoured by Yoongi’s mouth. He twisted you in his direction, pulling you by the neck with his other hand, engulfing you in a kiss with intensity that overshadowed Yoongi’s by a long shot. They were both great kissers, but there was something about Hobi’s that completely destroyed you. All thoughts left in your mind were drained as you entangled your hand in his hair, shifting up onto your knees to get a better angle. Hobi lifted you by the waist, settling you over his lap, pulling you closer to him, hands resting on your ass. The mattress shifted, and you felt Yoongi’s hands cup your breasts, gently kneading them from behind you.

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathed out, rolling your nipples between his fingers, drawing little whines from you as Hobi worked to unbutton the jeans you were wearing. You grabbed his hands, stopping him from going any further.

“Nuh uh, this isn’t fair,” you giggled, taking the bottom of his shirt in your hands and swiftly pulling it over his head. You couldn’t help but to ogle him. His warm honey skin tone was mesmerizing as you dragged your eyes down his torso, taking in his prominent collarbones, toned chest and abs, to the subtle trail of hair leading down beneath the waistband of his jeans. Your breath hitched as you traced your fingers along his clavicles, watching as he dropped his head back against the headboard. That position only made him more enticing, showcasing his neck, Adam’s apple jutting out. Yoongi’s lips touched the space where your neck met your shoulder, sucking gently as he continued massaging your breasts from behind.

“She’s so fucking beautiful, isn’t she?” Hobi asked out loud, lifting his head, eyes shooting behind you to Yoongi.

“Mmhmm, she is,” Yoongi replied, continuing his ministrations on your neck and shoulders. You sat up straighter, arching your back, resting your head on his chest.

“Yours too, now,” Hobi said with a nod of his head. Confused, you lifted your head to look at him, and it clicked. They’ve done this before. And it was obvious there was a certain… dynamic, between the two of them. You tilted your head to glance back at Yoongi, watching as his eyes answered for him. It was almost as if he was cowering, afraid to say no. You felt his hands drop from your chest as he nudged you, pushing you forward a bit.

Yoongi swiftly pulled his shirt off from behind you, and your eyes immediately followed the loss of fabric. His pale skin stood out in the dark room, and you could see the slight definition of his chest and stomach. Not as toned as Hobi, but still attractive to you, although in a different way.

“Can I undo these, baby?” Hobi questioned, pulling at the button of your jeans again. You nodded, biting your lower lip as you once again willed your nerves away. His fingers moved deftly, popping the button open in no time at all. The zipper came next, then he pulled you up by your belt loops, taking you off of his lap and gesturing for you to sit on the bed next to him.

Yoongi made his way over to you, sitting on your other side. His hand came up to push your curled hair behind your ear as he whispered, “You trust me, right?” You gulped, slowly nodding again. Words were failing you, your anxiety bubbling up in your stomach. “You trust us?”

Your eyes darted between the two men. With Yoongi, things were easy; he felt safe. But Hobi, you weren’t sure about. He didn’t exactly feel unsafe, but he was harder to read, harder to open up to.

“Hey, I know he’s a little intense sometimes. But he’s chill. It’ll be okay,” Yoongi reassured you, hand stroking your cheek lightly. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“Just… take it slow, okay?” you requested.

“We’ll take it as slow as you need, baby. Just relax,” Hobi chimed in, shooting you a small smirk. With that, he hopped out of the bed, his erection prominently on display despite his tight jeans. As he walked over toward the window, Yoongi pulled you into him, his soft lips connecting with yours again. You sighed, letting him take the lead on the kiss, opening your mouth for him to explore. It was easy to get lost in him, easy to almost forget about the third person in the room.

“Here. Take a few more hits. It’ll help you relax again,” Hobi said from the window, blowing smoke out with a deep exhale. He joined the two of you at the side of the bed, handing you the joint again. You inhaled deep, this time more prepared for the burn of smoke to your throat. You exhaled slowly, feeling your high reignite almost immediately. You handed the joint back to Hobi, and he pressed it to Yoongi’s lips, allowing him a few short inhales before taking it back and returning to the window.

“Better?” Yoongi asked, his eyes searching yours. You breathed deeply, nodding, a small smile spreading across your face. Hobi joined you on the bed again, flicking the bedside light on as he did, his lanky arms falling around your shoulders as he pulled you to rest in between his legs, your back against his chest.

“This okay?” he breathed into your ear, his hands wandering slowly down to your breasts as you nodded. “Use your words, we need to hear you.”

“Y-yeah, it’s okay,” you responded, and you let out a quiet whine as his thumb and forefinger closed around your nipple, pinching gently, sending shocks through you. Hobi’s skin against your back was warm, soft. He nudged your cheek with his nose, tipping your face to the side as he began kissing and sucking on your neck. Every kiss made you hotter, made your breathing more ragged.

“You know,” Hobi started, his tongue tracing a line down your neck, “Yoongi is really good with his tongue too.”

You shivered, glancing over at Yoongi, who was still beside you, palming his hard cock over his jeans now, eyes on you.

“Show her how good you can be,” Hobi directed at Yoongi, raising his eyebrows as if daring him to object. Yoongi raised himself up onto his knees, leaning over to kiss the other side of your neck, trailing soft lips down to your collarbone and back up to your ear.

“Can I?” Yoongi asked you gently. You nodded, whispering a hushed yes in response. With that, Yoongi positioned himself in front of you, reaching for your unbuttoned jeans. “Say something if you want me to stop,” he said as he hooked his fingers into your waistband and tugged. Awkwardly, you lifted yourself to help him, and then you were pantsless; black, lace panties on display for the two men to admire.

Yoongi placed his flattened palms on the tops of your thighs, running them upward until he reached the hem of your panties. Fingers playing with the lace adorning your hips, his breath caught as his thumbs ran gently over your clothed mound. You squirmed, pushing your back harder against Hobi’s chest, hearing him chuckle in your ear.

“So pretty..” Yoongi murmured, eyes never leaving yours, questioning you. You nodded in response, knowing he was asking permission to take off the only garment you had left. He moved quickly, removing the panties effortlessly.

It was weird, being so exposed, naked in front of them, when all they were missing were shirts. Your anxiety revved up again, and you took a few breaths, not wanting to show your fear. “Um.. can you— can you take your pants off? Please? I’m a little self-conscious and I’ll feel better if we’re more even,” you said with a chuckle, feeling stupid to even be asking. Yoongi shot you an understanding smile, nodding.

“Sure, love. Anything you want. Hobi?”

Hobi tapped your bicep lightly, moving you out of his way. The two men stood, unbuckling belts and shimmying out of tight jeans in tandem. You couldn’t help but stare. In the light, they were even more gorgeous. Boxer briefs hugging their thighs tightly, erections on display for you to ogle. Your mouth dropped open, breath catching as your mind went haywire. This is it, you thought, this is really happening.

You weren’t the only one staring. It was subtle, but Hobi was still very obviously looking over at Yoongi’s hardened cock, tongue darting out over his bottom lip in desire. You had questions, but it wasn’t your place to ask them, so you let them go, opening yourself up to whatever was going to happen.

“You guys are so… ugh,” you scoffed, unable to contain your giggles. The two men came to join you on the bed again, taking their old positions; Hobi behind you, caressing your breasts and stomach, Yoongi between your legs, eyeing your bare pussy.

“Go on, then,” Hobi instructed, “make her feel good like we promised.” With his statement, he took one of your thighs in his hand and pulled it to the side, spreading you for Yoongi.

“Ah— fuck!” you cried out, not expecting Yoongi’s sudden onslaught to your pussy. He was quick. In the few seconds since you’d closed your eyes, tilting your neck to give Hobi access to it, he’d dropped down onto his stomach and buried his tongue in your folds. Gripping your other thigh, he was relentless. He worked his tongue from your clit to your entrance with wet, languid movements. Your hips bucked, your hand finding purchase in his long, dark hair. Hobi continued licking and sucking on your neck, fingers rolling and pinching at your nipples. The sensory overload had your head lolling back, eyelids drooping as you let out short little moans.

“No, baby. Eyes open, watch him,” Hobi murmured in your ear, voice dripping with mirth. You fought to keep your eyes open, your vision blurring as Yoongi sucked gently on your clit, watching you. You watched as he took his free hand, sucked seductively on the index and middle fingers, then brought them to your entrance, slowly inserting them into your cunt. You cried out again, your pleasure increasing tenfold with the added sensation. He twisted his fingers and hooked them just right, finding the spongy spot inside you in no time, slowly, rhythmically dragging them along your walls.

“Can you cum for us, love?” Yoongi asked you with a smirk, flattening his tongue and licking wide stripes up and down your cunt. Your body reacted, shaking as you got closer and closer to the edge.

“Yoongi— yesyesyes,” the words tumbled out as you came, your hips bucking as he gripped your thigh tightly, holding you in place to work you through your orgasm. His tongue never stopped, lapping at your juices as you gushed around his fingers again and again. You tried to escape his ministrations, but Hobi kept you still, shushing in your ear, chuckling at you.

“I was right, wasn’t I? He’s so good…” Hobi whispered to you, dragging his hands along your torso to rest on your still-moving hips. “I think she’s had enough for now,” he directed at Yoongi, who reluctantly pulled away, wiping his glistening lips and chin with the back of his hand.

You breathed deeply, gasping for air, feeling like your soul had left your body. You didn’t know what the fuck had just happened, but you didn’t have time to think about it because Hobi was pushing you up and off of his chest, crawling around you and over to Yoongi. You collapsed onto the bed as Hobi took hold of Yoongi’s neck and kissed him, then used his tongue to lap the remaining slick off Yoongi’s chin. “Can’t wait to taste you myself later,” he shot at you with a smirk, dark eyes glinting in the dim lighting.

You giggled, unsure how to reply. You knew what you wanted to do next though, so you sat up, ignoring your shaking thighs to get onto your knees. Sitting on your heels, you hesitantly reached out, tracing down the abdomen of both men with your fingertips, playfully snapping the waistbands of their boxer briefs. “Take these off,” you ordered, trying to sound confident.

“Oh, she’s bossy,” Yoongi laughed out, biting his lower lip with a smirk. Without another word, the two men moved to remove their boxer briefs, leaving you on the bed, mouth agape as you stared. You couldn’t decide where to look. They were mesmerizing, naked in front of you. Your eyes moved up and down their bodies, one at a time, taking them in. You gestured for them to come back to the bed, and they did with no hesitation. Before you could chicken out, you went straight to Hobi, pulling him into a kiss. He reacted, kissing you back, hands holding the sides of your neck. As the two of you kissed, tongues chasing each other for control, you reached out to your side. Breaking the kiss for a quick second, you glanced down, reaching for Yoongi. Finding his hip, you scratched your nails across his lower abdomen, then down his pelvis. You wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping him slowly, teasingly. He hissed, hips bucking at the feeling.

Going back to kissing Hobi, still stroking Yoongi, your usual filter was gone. You broke the kiss once again, leaning in, kissing and nipping at his neck and throat. As you got to the space right below his ear, you whispered, “Fuck me, Hobi. Please.” His grip tightened on your neck just slightly, and you felt Yoongi’s cock react to your words as he whined in response. You looked over at him, chuckling a bit as you said, “Don’t worry, you’ll get me too,” licking your lower lip seductively.

With that, Hobi pushed you back onto your heels, grabbing your waist to flip you over onto your stomach. Before you could even react, he pulled your waist up to position you on all fours, his hand running across your lower back gently. “This okay?” he asked you, voice less cocky than normal. You could feel his fingers running along your ass, spreading you open for the both of them to see.

“Ye–,” you choked out, stopping mid-word as Hobi ran his fingers along your folds, collecting your juices from your entrance before inserting them. You yelped, oversensitive from your previous orgasm, but it didn’t take long before your pleasure was building again. Hobi was skilled, that was for sure. The way he crooked his fingers just right, hitting all your spots, was almost enough to throw you over the precipice a second time. That is, until he stopped. “Hobi,” you whined, breathing heavily with your face in the pillow under you.

“Don’t worry baby, we said we’d take care of you,” Hobi reassured. You heard a ripping sound, presumably from a condom wrapper, and then felt his hands gripping your waist. Your body jerked as you felt the head of his cock rubbing your clit. “Shh, relax for me,” he said as he inserted the tip of his cock in your cunt. The stretch was more than you’d expected, but Hobi took his time with you, pushing inch by inch into your pussy, until he finally bottomed out against your ass, hands still gripping your waist tightly.

Yoongi had climbed around onto the head of the bed, sitting close to where your face was still buried in the pillows. You looked up at him from the corner of your eye, watching his large hand begin pumping his cock as he watched you. Using his other hand, he pushed your hair off your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?”

You smiled at him, reaching up to touch his hand. He squeezed yours, but the intimate moment was interrupted by Hobi thrusting into you for real for the first time. You cried out, grasping the sheets as you were lurched forward. Looking up at Yoongi again, you were met with his signature smirk and a chuckle, followed by, “Sorry, love.”

His teasing tone left you wanting to do some teasing of your own. You picked yourself up as best as you could through Hobi’s thrusts, resting on your elbows. “Need some help with that?” you asked Yoongi, watching him jerk himself off, hoping your sultry tone had come through the way you’d wanted. He eyed you, biting his lip again. There’s something about that damn lip bite… you thought.

Yoongi lifted himself off the bed, kneeling now. He took your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, using his thumb to pull your bottom lip down. You stared up at him, batting your eyelids, as you kitten-licked the pad of his thumb, making him hiss. You leaned forward, placing gentle kisses on his abdomen, trailing them down his pelvis until you reached his cock. Looking up at him, you slowly ran your tongue along his length, from base to tip, admiring the prominent vein running down it. Yoongi groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure. Holding yourself up with one hand, you gripped the base of his cock with the other, steadying yourself, still on Hobi’s cock as he continued drilling into you.

With Yoongi’s cock in your hand, it was easy to tell that he was one of the biggest you’d had. You knew you had relatively small hands, but seeing your fingers barely close around him excited you. Continuing your teasing, you dragged your tongue up and down, swirling it around the tip before taking it in your mouth. Your lips spread tight, you slowly bobbed your head, taking more of him in each time. Yoongi’s groaning egged you on, making you focus on giving him pleasure to the point where you almost didn’t notice Hobi still behind you. That is, until he lifted one knee and thrusted into you from a different angle, eliciting a loud moan from you as Yoongi’s cock was shoved to the back of your throat. Trying your best not to gag, you relaxed your throat muscles, swallowing around him. His hips bucked, his hands holding your hair back in a makeshift ponytail as he began fucking into your throat. You had basically no control at this point, being jostled back and forth by both men.

“Tap my thigh if it’s too– fuuuck– too much,” Yoongi gasped, barely able to get the words out as you hollowed your cheeks on his next thrust into your mouth. With that, you tapped his thigh a few times, making him stop immediately and pull out of your mouth. His breathing was ragged, cheeks flushed, sweat collecting on his forehead.

“Can I ride you?” you asked Yoongi innocently.

“Fuck– yes, please,” he responded, and Hobi stopped too, pulling out before looking down at you.

“Baby, I’m not gonna last much longer,” Hobi breathed out, giving you a smirk as he smacked the side of your ass. “Your pussy is so fuckin’ good.”

You watched as the two men adjusted positions, Yoongi lying on his back and Hobi kneeling on the bed next to him. Yoongi ripped open a condom wrapper, sheathing himself quickly before grabbing you by the waist and situating you over his pelvis. Grabbing his cock, you rubbed him through your folds, moaning at the sensation. You lined him up with your entrance, slowly sinking down on him. Your moans tumbled out as you began riding him.

“Your tits look so good bouncing like that,” Hobi complimented you, and you shot an innocent smile his way as you upped your pace, leaning back to show yourself off a little more. You used one hand to balance yourself on Yoongi’s thigh, the other to begin jerking Hobi off. He’d removed the condom once he pulled out of you, so he was still slick from the lube on the inside of it, making your hand move smoothly up and down his shaft. He was about the same length as Yoongi, but had more girth, which explained the stretch when he was fucking you.

“Let me suck your dick, please, Hobi?” you pleaded as Yoongi lifted you up and pounded you down onto his dick again and again. Hobi smirked at you as he lifted himself up onto his knees more, and you bent down to reach him easier.

“Bossy and a filthy mouth? Where’d this come from?” Hobi taunted, grabbing your chin to force you to look at him.

“You bring it out,” you answered with a smirk, taking one last look up at him before you sank your mouth down onto his cock, breathing through your nose, taking him all in. Hobi immediately groaned, moving his hand from your chin to your hair, pushing it back away from your face to get a better look at you.

Riding Yoongi and sucking Hobi’s dick at the same time proved to be a challenge. They were both so needy; Yoongi whining underneath you as you brought him closer to release, Hobi trying his hardest not to fuck your throat too hard. I’m not a quitter, you thought for the second time that night, hyping yourself up. It was much easier for you to focus solely on Yoongi, and let Hobi use your mouth the way he saw fit.

Yoongi pulled your chest down to meet his, pulling you away from Hobi to engulf you in a passionate, sloppy kiss as you continued grinding on him, rocking your hips back and forth on his pelvis for stimulation on your clit. You moaned into his mouth, reaching over to pump Hobi’s cock as you kissed Yoongi. Pulling away, Yoongi kissed up the side of your neck to your ear, gripping the back of your neck as he did so.

“Love… are you on the pill?” he whispered, earning a quizzical look from you. You nodded, unsure where he was going with his question. His grip on your neck tightened as he whined again, then finished with, “I’m clean… Can I cum inside you? Please…” His breathing was ragged, his thrusting up into you becoming erratic.

“Please,” you whimpered, nodding again as you pulled yourself off of him, giving him room to remove the condom. Hobi looked down at you again, moving to go back to fucking your throat. You brought your face all the way to his pelvis, swallowing around his cock as you bobbed your head, hollowing your cheeks on each movement.

“Fuck, baby, lemme cum in your mouth,” Hobi groaned, pushing your head farther down on his dick. You flattened your tongue on the underside of his shaft, swirling it around the tip each time he pulled out. You felt his cock begin to pulse, and you hollowed your cheeks more, sucking harder as he shot his cum into your mouth. You swallowed, warm liquid coating your throat. Hobi’s moans rang in your ears as you continued running your tongue along his dick. He shook, holding your hair as you milked him into overstimulation. You gripped his hips, not letting him pull away as you playfully sucked on just the tip of his cock, enjoying hearing his whimpers until you finally stopped.

“Baby.. f-fuck, that was so good,” Hobi stuttered, collapsing back onto his heels before falling back onto the bed. His breathing was shaky as he looked at you, his eyes roaming over your naked body with admiration. You smirked, patting his thigh playfully as you looked back down at Yoongi.

His eyes had darkened, his pupils blown with lust. You reached for his cock, rubbing his now-bare tip through your folds, listening to him whimper. You chuckled, then lined him up with your entrance, lowering yourself down onto him. He groaned, hands going to grip your waist. Instead, you smacked them away, a new idea coming to mind. You took both of his hands in yours and pinned them at each side of his head as you began riding him again. You heard his breath catch in his throat, and you knew… mission accomplished.

“Awh, you like being restricted, hmm?” you asked, giggling, watching his face for his reaction. He stared up at you, puppy eyes watching your every move.

“Love.. don’t do this to me,” he huffed out, chuckling a bit. Your eyes met his, a glint of seduction playing in yours.

“Do what?” you teased, clenching your pussy a few times around his cock. “Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me?”

Yoongi groaned, gripping your hands tightly in his. You continued bouncing on him, rolling your hips the way you’d figured out he liked. It wasn’t long before he was panting, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure. “Make- let me cum, love. Please,” he breathed out, choosing his words carefully, begging you.

Yoongi’s body shuddered as he let out a loud moan. You finally coaxed his orgasm out of him, the sounds he made almost making you cum along with him. You leaned down to kiss him, still holding his hands down at the side of his head, licking and sucking on his bottom lip as you rolled your hips a few more times. His moans turned to whines and whimpers, including a few curse words. “St- Stop, please, baby. Too sensitive,” he gasped out. You stopped moving, kissing him a few more times before lifting yourself off of him and collapsing on the bed next to him, breathing heavily yourself now. Whether that was from the overexertion, or the fact that you were so close to a second orgasm, you weren’t sure, but you couldn’t help but giggle a little, throwing one hand over your face, covering yourself.

You felt hands on your raised knees, the strong grip letting you know it was Hobi as he pushed your knees apart gently. You uncovered your face, watching as he stared down at your spread pussy, Yoongi’s cum dripping out of you.

“You think you can give us one more?” Hobi asked, smirk playing at his lips as Yoongi ran his hand across your stomach to grab your breast, squeezing and playing with the nipple, sending jolts of pleasure through you. You whined and nodded your head, oversensitive but still wanting more.

Hobi leaned down, using his fingers to smear Yoongi’s leaking cum around the lips of your pussy. With that, he licked a broad stripe from your hole up to your clit, kissing your bud gently before looking up at you. “You taste so good, fuck,” he groaned, continuing his attack on you as you bucked your hips.

He flicked his tongue rapidly, the sound of his face in contact with your wetness turning you on even more. “Ah— Hobi,” you whimpered, “fuuuck, you’re so good with your tongue!”

He chuckled as he began lewdly sucking on your clit, using two fingers to fuck into you slowly at first, then picking up the pace as your body reacted. Your whines and moans tumbled out, but in the middle of a particularly loud cry of ohfuckfuckfuck, you were cut off by Yoongi’s mouth overtaking yours.

Yoongi leaned over you, kissing you deeply, massaging your breast with one hand, the other hand tangling in your hair. It was hard to concentrate, squirming under him as Hobi brought you closer and closer to your high. You found yourself bringing one hand down to entangle in Hobi’s hair, using the other to hold onto Yoongi’s wrist as you kissed him. Your grip on his wrist tightened as your senses were attacked from all directions.

“That’s it love, such a good girl for us,” Yoongi rasped, breaking the kiss to watch your face as you cried out fuckfuckfuck once again. Your body shook uncontrollably, Hobi’s fingers hooking your g-spot as you came. Yoongi kissed you once more, swallowing your moans as you drenched the sheets below you in your release.

“Shit, you’re a squirter too? Jesus, you’re perfect,” Hobi growled, still fucking into you with his fingers, lapping at the juices coming from your pussy, helping you ride your high all the way through. You struggled to close your thighs, trying to escape his tongue, but both of the men gripped one each to keep them spread. Your oversensitivity overtook you, choked sobs escaping your lips as all you could do was let them have their way with you.

“Fuu— please, Hobi, please!” you cried out, begging him to stop before you quite literally almost passed out from the sensations. Your vision blurred in and out, seeing stars as you mentally blacked out momentarily.

Hobi continued his teasing escapades on your cunt, licking gently as your body trembled underneath him. You pulled at his hair, trying to disconnect his mouth from you, to no avail.

Yoongi reached down, tapping Hobi’s shoulder and giving him a pleading look. “C’mon, I think she’s done,” he argued tenderly, tilting his head questioningly. Hobi finally pulled away, wiping his mouth with his hand as he raised himself back up onto his knees.

You laid there, curling yourself into the fetal position as you tried to get your breathing back in check. You shivered, aftershocks from your orgasm hitting you still. You felt the mattress behind you dip down as a warm body came into your space, pale arms enclosing you in a back hug. Yoongi nuzzled his lips into your hair, pressing sweet kisses to the back of your head, rubbing his hands along your arms to warm you.

“You okay, love?” Yoongi whispered into your hair, trying his best to comfort you. You nodded, clutching his arm in your hand to reassure him.

Hobi joined your cuddle on the other side, turning to face you, cupping your cheek in his palm as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “I didn’t hurt you, did I, baby?” he questioned.

You shook your head, taking a breath before answering him. “No, I’m good. That was just… really intense.”

You felt both men shake as they chuckled, both doing their best to give you the aftercare you needed. “What do you need?” Yoongi asked.

“Do you wanna stay?” Hobi asked, swiping his thumb across your cheek. You reached out with the hand that wasn’t holding Yoongi’s arm, resting it over Hobi’s side.

You didn’t know what you needed, but the desire to have physical contact with both men was overwhelming. Your shivers still hadn’t stopped, prompting Yoongi to pull you closer into him. Hobi scooted closer too, enveloping you in tangled legs and warm chests from both sides.

“Do you want me to stay?” you wondered out loud. The arms of both men tightened around you, giving you the answer to your question.

“Please stay,” Yoongi requested from behind you, Hobi nodding his head in agreement. You sighed, a feeling of complete contentment taking hold of you.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” you agreed, “but I want to shower.”

The three of you untangled yourselves to head to the bathroom. Showering together proved to be a difficult feat, the hotel shower not being built for three. Somehow, you made it work though. You took turns washing, Hobi and Yoongi both wanting to be the one to help you wash your hair. You giggled over their disagreement, settling on Hobi with the stipulation that you would, in turn, wash Yoongi’s hair for him.

Exiting the shower, you did your best to dry off in the tiny bathroom together. This resulted in laughs, knocked over toiletries on the bathroom counter, and more than one occurrence of someone almost falling over. You changed into borrowed clothes, an oversized t-shirt from Yoongi and joggers from Hobi.

Climbing into the unused bed, the three of you curled up together, snuggling in each other’s arms. The softness of these men surprised you. They clearly had personalities they didn’t show very often, only in private and not to most people. But for some reason, they were showing those sides of themselves to you. They had shown you that reputations weren’t important, that people’s pasts didn’t define them. More importantly, they had shown you that your own reputation wasn’t something you should care about the way you always had.

Your eyes fluttered closed, drifting in and out of sleep. Right before you fell asleep, you heard Yoongi’s deep, raspy voice from behind you whisper, “We didn’t ruin you like we said we would earlier. You ruined other women for us.”

You were beginning to think the same was true for them too.

#bts smut #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #jhope smut #hoseok smut #jhope fic #jhope fanfic #hoseok fic #hoseok fanfic #btsafterdarknet #bangtanstreet23 #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 25 days

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reading updates: august 2024

the good news is that I did a lot of reading this month, the bad news is that honestly? I think that my birthday month has had the biggest percentage of literary letdowns, duds, and outright bullshit than any other month of this year so far.

but at least there's plenty to talk about, so let's get going!

Unlearning Shame: How We Can Reject Self-Blame Culture and Reclaim Our Power (Devon Price, 2024) - uh oh gamers, we're starting on a doozy! I've enjoyed both of Price's previous books very much, but with Unlearning Shame I couldn't help but feel like I couldn't quite shake the feeling that I wasn't getting what I had signed on for. the issue, I think, could be corrected by an adjustment to the title, which seems to be promising a very broad tackling of the concept of shame and is therefore making some pretty big promises. in reality, the book is much more narrowly focused than that, interested primarily in the shame that arises in the activism-minded when they feel overwhelmed by the sheer amount of awful things in the world and their perceived inability to do anything about it. fairly early on Price introduces an apparently relatable anecdote about himself and a friend having mutual breakdowns in a grocery store because they were both so paralyzed by the conundrum of trying to buy the most ethical groceries possible, and I realized this book was maybe not really for me or my particular experiences with shame. I think this book will be really helpful for a lot of people for sure, would love to pass it on to a lot of my freshmen, but overall it did not live up to the expectations I brought to the party.

A Separate Peace (John Knowles, 1959) - so I wanted to reread this because someone on here sent me an ask about, I don't know, my favorite required high school reading or whatever, and I said it was A Separate Peace but then I realized it's been over a decade since I read the book and I had to go see if it still actually held up. and god, does it EVER. this is such a brutal and heartbreaking novel, beginning in the last carefree summer that best friends and roommates Gene and Finny will experience before their final year at their boys' private school and their seemingly inevitable draft into WW2. although Gene is seethingly jealous of Finny's seemingly effortless charisma, popularity, confidence, and athletic prowess, the two boys are also inseparable - until a tragic injury changes the course of Finny's life forever. this book is a mess of unspoken pain, from the looming end of innocence on a global scale to the intimate ache of loving your best friend so, so much and having no healthy way to express it because you're a repressed little rich boy in the 1940s.

Deep as the Sky, Red as the Sea (Rita Chang-Eppig, 2023) - Chang-Eppig's debut novel follows the career of Chinese pirate Shek Yeung, also known as Zheng Yi Sao, immediately following the death of her husband, fearsome pirate Sheng Yi. you've probably seen a post or two about her floating around on this very hellsite, calling her a pirate queen and accompanied by this image:

Chang-Eppig isn't interested in portraying Shek Yeung as any kind of heroine or feminist icon; over and over again it's acknowledged that she's simply a woman who has survived massive hardships and will do whatever she needs to do to survive. manipulation? spying? extortion? torture? murder? you name it, she's done it, and she does not feel remorse. while the novel wasn't a knockout for me either in terms of plot or prose, it's nice to see an entry into the trend of "retelling" stories from history and mythology centered on women that isn't determined to justify every step a maligned woman ever made. Shek Yeung is what she is, and her story makes for a gritty, bloody adventure.

Victim (Andrew Boryga, 2024) - this book is pure sleazeball fun; if you've ever wondered what I consider a romp, this is it. Victim follows our manipulative king Javi Perez as he builds a writing career for himself by turning in one essay after another about racial discrimination that he never really experienced, inventing stories of hardship caused by racism and poverty from his college application essay to his school newspaper to the story that finally brings the whole lie crashing down when he stretches the truth too far. the novel is written like Javi's apology in the wake of getting #canceled, and while I do sometimes feel that this premise makes some of the writing seem a bit implausible (why would you admit that!!!) it's a fun setup for a scandal that would have been a bloodbath on the twitter of old. come get your mess!!!

Bad Girls (Camila Sosa Villada, trans. Kit Maude, 2022) - this is my first time reading Sosa Villada's work but OH BOY, do I need to seek out more. this is a skinty little novel following a dramatized account of the travesti (or transgender) women who live and sell sex in Córdoba, Argentina. the women build an unsteady but beautiful and magic-infused family under the protection of the ancient Auntie Encarna. the protagonist (who is named Camila Sosa Villada, no relation I'm sure) watches as her unconventional family grows, changes, and frays over time, struggling to find ways to stay afloat in a world that see them as disposable. Sosa Villada's turns of phrase are brilliant and searing, and she weaves fantastical elements so nimbly into her narrative that it's utterly believable to see women becoming animals and courting headless men in the streets of a modern city. strongly recommend for fans of Kai Cheng Thom's Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars.

Talkin' Up to the White Woman: Indigenous Women and Feminism (Aileen Morteon-Robinson, 2000) - this book serves as a scathing literature review indicting Australia's white women anthropologists and feminist scholars for the ways in which they've dehumanized and discredited Aboriginal women, stripping them of the right to be authorities of their own experiences and barring them from a white-centered feminist movement. Moreton-Robinson's account is excellent, contrasting the wok of white women academics with the accounts of Aboriginal women to reveal exactly how massive the disparities in understanding are. as a USAmerican previously aware of Australia's colonial history but unfamiliar with the specifics, it was jarring to discover exactly how similar the mechanism of colonial violence are between my country and Australia, with countless genocidal parallels to be drawn. one particular highlight of the book comes via my purchase of a 20th anniversary edition, which includes a new post-script by Moreton-Robinson in which she dissects and responds to various criticisms of the book at its time of release, taking several critics to task for the belittling tone they used to describe her work and the tools white feminists use to absolve themselves of blame in the face of critique from women of color. fascinating and thorough articulation of Moreton-Robinson's point, and deservedly blistering. I love when academics call each other out by name.

The End of Love: Racism, Sexism, and the Death of Romance (Sabrina Strings, 2024) - so the thing about this book is that there are really good PARTS. Strings is still an excellent historical writer, and I found a lot to appreciate in, for instance, the segments on the history of Black American pimp culture and the analysis of Playboy and Helen Gurley Brown's Sex and the Single Girl. the more personal segments, where Strings contorts herself to fit her own failed relationships into the narrative she's building, are decidedly less consistent in their quality, with some feeling like they would have been better off staying between Strings and her therapist. there's a long and convoluted digression about Sex and the City, and a strange anecdote towards the end in which String recounts a phone call with a friend's college-aged son who, String believes, was masturbating during the call. a yucky experience, to be certain, but I'm not sure it justifies Strings filing a police report against the youth and his mother, who she accuses of having groomed her on the son's behalf. she also casually drops in the same chapter that she considers herself pansexual because she's attracted to trans men in addition to cis men? idk man!!! this book was so uneven that I found myself genuinely questioning whether Strings' first book, Fearing the Black Body, is actually as excellent as I remember it being. I'm pretty sure it is, but god it sucks to get shaken so hard that you have to wonder!

The Diary of a Teenage Girl: An Account in Words and Pictures (Phoebe Gloeckner, 2002) - another book that I had to read for class, years ago! I read Diary of a Teenage Girl in one of my gender and women's studies classes in my undergrad, for a class with a title along the lines of Girlhood Stories in Fiction and Film. Gloeckner's novel (though heavily informed by her own life, she insists that it's a work of fiction) sees its young protagonist, Minnie, navigating a great deal of sex, alcohol, drugs in 1970s San Francisco. I started thinking about the book because I was listening to a trio of episodes of You're Wrong About in which Carmen Maria Machado guests to talk about the pervasive sham that is Go Ask Alice (great series, check it out) and I started thinking about Diary, which is so much less preachy and didactic and is, you know, actually drawn from a real teenage girl's diary, unlike Go Ask Alice, and lacking Alice's preachy didacticism. as a diary based on a real diary this book is largely lacking in any particular plot (the most consistent through line is Minnie's ongoing and tumultuous sexual relationship with her mother's 35 year old boyfriend), but if that's not a turn off then you'll find yourself rooting for Minnie to find her way all the way to the uncertain but ultimately optimistic conclusion.

One and Done (Frederick Smith, 2024) - okay, so. this is a romance novel that I picked up because I saw a review talking about how it's an incredibly realistic depiction of working at a university. now that's obviously an insane thing to look for in a romance novel, but I like romances, ESPECIALLY gay romances, and I work at a university, so I figured sure, I'll bite. spoiler alert: it's not great. I posted some examples of the prose here, and even if the two protagonists talked like actual human beings it wouldn't make up for the stale-ass plot or devastating lack of chemistry they have going for them. more like One and Glad to Be Done With This Book That Isn't Very Good, am I right, ladies?

Seduced (Virginia Henley, 1994) - guys, I'm gonna be so fucking real with you. this is the most batshit novel I've ever read, period, let alone the most batshit romance novel. this book was the winner of a poll I ran on patreon last month in which my wicked patreonites got to nominate romance novels of their choosing for my next reading project and voted amongst themselves to crown a winner, and against all odds and my own light attempts to sway the voters, Seduced won it all. this book has everything: a historical setting, a bold young lady disguising herself as her own brother, wildly unchecked orientalism, a murderous cousin, high society scandal, and some of the most torturous sex scenes I've ever encountered in my life. truly this write-up cannot do justice to what I have experienced; I've already promised by patreonites that I'll have to do a little youtube live in order to fully express the extent of my dissatisfaction.

and that was the month of August, babey!!!

#bookblr

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pepperonidk · 4 months

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vii. where else can i go || all i could do

"Don't we get to be happy?" "Then he smiles and where else can I go?"

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x f!Reader Summary: Don't you get to be happy at some point down the line? Warnings: angst, reader wears heels, jihyo mention bc that's my wife fr Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: oh boy. this was a doozy. there are like 3 versions of this song i listened to on repeat. Jonathan Bailey from Bridgerton, Jeremy Jordan, and Grant Gustin from Glee and the Flash. I cry every single time. the gaslight toxic boyfriend anthem. sorry jihoon.

join the taglist! previous chapter || back to library || next chapter

The party was in full swing with people dancing to the jazz band that was playing on stage and the who’s whos of the music industry all mingling in small groups. And you were at the bar, nursing your second glass of expensive champagne, people watching.

“So what’s it like?” a voice coming up beside you drew your attention away from where you were watching Jihoon entertaining a group of whoevers across the room. He glanced and caught your eye with a smile before you turned away.

That was really the most you’d seen of him all day. Jihoon had just come home from his tour a few weeks ago and was already hitting the ground running. Phone calls were few and far in between during the last leg of the tour. And when he was finally home... Well, you’d wake up and softly slip away from a sleeping Jihoon as you got ready for your day at the lab, and by the time Jihoon was home from countless hours at the studio, you were well into a deep slumber. Sometimes you’d wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed to see a text saying Jihoon was still at his studio.

This was the most you’d seen him in a while, actually.

“Sorry, what’s what like?” you questioned. The person beside you was Jihyo, another artist signed to Jihoon’s agency. You had spoken a handful of times but mostly in passing “hello”s and “nice to see you again”s. She was one of the names you had heard more frequently in Jihoon’s tour stories since Jihoon helped her produce her debut album even while he was overseas. In fact, you were 60% sure this party was for her.

She called her hand for the bartender to top up her glass of champagne before answering your question. “What’s it like to be the wife of this generation’s Beethoven,” she smiled kindly. You chuckled at her question before tilting your half empty champagne flute to hers in a toast.

“It’s great,” you returned her smile before turning and catching Jihoon’s eye once more. He was speaking to a few big shots of the agency, board members and whatnot. He winked at you slyly and you felt yourself blush.

“Oh come on,” another voice chimed. Seungkwan, another singer you’d become somewhat familiar with from Jihoon’s stories. “Give us something juicy,” he pleaded. He had helped Jihoon with some backing vocals on some of his songs and was an insanely talented singer. He was one of Jihoon’s reasons for signing on to this particular agency.

You let out a sigh as you turned back to them. “There’s not really anything juicy about it,” you answered. “He’s just... Jihoon.”

“And what’s Jihoon like?” Seungkwan asked.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You see him almost more than I do with the time he spends at the studio,” you began. “I’m sure you know what he’s like.”

“Yeah, well,” Jihyo replied. “We know the workaholic superstar side of him, so we really don’t know him that well.”

You hummed thoughtfully. At work, at these extravagant parties, on stage, he was charming in a way only a picture perfect idol could be. He laughed at all the right times, shook hands with all the important people, but it was all still a performance. It was nice to relish in the idea that you were by his side before all of this, when he was still a senior in college whose veins were pumping nothing but Coke Zero and instant noodles.

“Well at home, it’s just normal,” you finally answered, smiling to yourself. “We could be watching a movie and eating pizza and then suddenly he’ll think of something and it’s like he zones out for a bit until he jumps up to grab his journal.”

It was easy to visualize the scene as it happened frequently. He’d grab his journal and his lucky pen that he’s chewed on way too much and scribble furiously the same way you’ve always known. And then suddenly, he’d stop and look up and hum to himself until a small smile forms and his eyes light up and you know he’s found what he was looking for.

“It’s like music coming to life,” you mused. “And I’m a part of that.”

Jihyo chuckled politely, taking a sip of her champagne. “Doesn’t that get annoying?” she asked. “Jihoon constantly getting up in the middle of stuff to write? I’d be so annoyed if I had to pause my movie so he could write a song about Coke Zero.”

You rolled your eyes at her joke. “Yeah, yeah,” you answered. “He’ll scribble in his terrible handwriting, and log miles walking around the apartment while humming mumbled words, and he’s an insane genius... but then he smiles and how can I complain? I’m a part of that.”

“Well what about you then?” Seungkwan asked. “Maybe you’re not writing the next hit of the century, but knowing Jihoon... well you must be pretty amazing if he married you.”

He must have meant it as a compliment, but his words still found a way to bite at your heart. You looked over to Jihoon once again, but a couple of well dressed ladies stood in front of him and blocked your line of sight. However you didn’t miss the way one of them laid a hand on his arm.

“I’m uh,” you began. “I’m a lab assistant,” you confessed, unsure of why you hesitated in your reply.

“Oh so you’re like one of those scientists who are curing cancer or whatever?” Jihyo questioned with a smile.

“I remember having to take a biology class when I was in college for a bit,” Seungkwan added on. “Have you published anything?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Uh, not really,” you answered. “I mostly just file reports and do calculations... it’s usually the head researchers who do the publishing. And we’re not studying cancer, we’re looking at how various binaural beats and their beta and gamma arms affect damaged language serving areas of the brain.”

You wanted to shy away, noting the way Jihyo and Seungkwan’s smiles faltered just for a bit to reveal their boredom before their celebrity training kicked in and they continued to smile through the now awkward tone of the conversation.

“But it’s fine, really,” you stammered out. Why you felt the need to defend yourself to people you didn’t know so badly, you had no clue. “I’ve also been applying to grad schools and studying for entrance exams so...” you nodded before turning to take a sip of your drink.

“Well that’s pretty cool,” Seungkwan said a little bit too quickly.

“Yeah,” Jihyo nodded her head in agreement. “I hope it works out for you.”

“Me too,” you raised your glass slightly in a salute as you turned away, giving them the opportunity to walk away from the conversation. You let out a sigh and swirled the remaining bit of your drink around the bottom of the glass.

Although they didn’t mean to, they did raise some valid points. For most of your relationship with Jihoon, he’s been on a rocket headed for the top while you followed in his stride. Were you ever by his side? Or have you always just been riding his coattails? You had told him when he proposed that you were on your way, assured him that you’d be beside him one day. But what if your dreams were changing? Would Jihoon still be waiting for you when you decide you’re fine with a smaller life without all of the glitz and glamor? Would he let his dreams change with yours and settle for that life with you?

Would he stop running his race to sit with you and watch the clouds go by? Would it be enough?

As if sensing your distress, you felt Jihoon’s gentle touch on your shoulder and you turned to see him smiling gently at you. Against your judgment, your heart did a small flip. That damn smile, you thought to yourself. He smiles and where else can you go?

“Hey,” he called out to you before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Yeah,” you replied, hoping Jihoon didn’t notice the nervous lilt in your voice. You’d honestly been ready to go home hours ago, when you felt blisters forming where your shoes chafed against the skin. But Jihoon was still busy making conversation with all the right people, making small talk with other artists, and of course having his ass kissed by the many clout chasing nobodies in the room. It was pretty standard for every party Jihoon brought you to. Sure, it was part of his job, but it’s not like you were dragging him into a lab to calculate titrations with you.

The car ride home was mostly silent. Jihoon hummed along to whatever songs came on the radio while you turned your attention outside to the city lights that blurred by as he sped through the empty roads of 4 am.

Too fast, you had thought to yourself. It’s all too fast.

It wasn’t until you were home and sat on your bed that you finally spoke, relieved to be able to

drop the mask and just talk about what was on your mind.

“Jihoon,” you called. He popped his head out of the bathroom door in the middle of brushing his teeth to show he heard you. You looked down into your lap before continuing. “I don’t want to go to these parties anymore.” You heard him finish up in the bathroom before he came back into the room with you.

“Angel...” he called out. “What are you talking about?” He sat beside you on the bed and reached for one of your hands to hold in his.

“I just,” you began, stuttering. “I just don’t want to anymore.” The sentence came out much more biting than you intended but you tried to not look surprised at the defensiveness of your words.

“And I’m asking why not,” Jihoon snapped back. Your eyes shot up to him in surprise at his tone and he let out a sigh. “Why don’t you want to go to these parties anymore?” He asked again with more restraint.

Ever since Jihoon started working at the agency, he had been wound up more than you had seen him. You’d heard stories of him snapping at interns, feeling impatient with everyone else who was struggling to catch up with the genius’s mind. When did you become one of those people?

You chewed your lip, unsure of what to say. “I hate these parties,” you began, much firmer now. “Nobody ever talks to me and when they do, it’s because they think I’m someone important whose ass needs to be kissed, and when they realize I’m not, they walk away. I always have to wear uncomfortable outfits, the food sucks, and for a record label, they hire some really shitty DJ’s too.”

You stood from the bed and walked around to the other side of the room and began pacing back and forth, the nervous energy taking over your body as your hands fidgeted by your sides. You kept your eyes on the carpet, afraid that looking at Jihoon would ruin the momentum you’d generated. “I hate wearing heels,” you continued. “And all anyone ever wants to talk about is who the most famous person in the room is, and we could just be using that time to watch a movie or finally just spend time together after months of missed facetime calls, and I really just hate your parties.”

The room was silent for a beat before Jihoon spoke with a quiet and cold tone. “Are you done?” was all he asked.

“Yeah,” you answered firmly. Jihoon stood up to face you and you couldn’t read the expression on his face.

“Good,” Jihoon replied. He was quiet, but his words were calculated. “These parties are important to me and you know that–”

“Please,” You scoffed. You were angry now, mostly at the fact that it had taken you this long to speak your mind. “Important for what, Jihoon? For you to butter yourself up with the same people over and over again? For adoring women to fawn over you? I haven’t seen you in months, but they see you every day, so how is that even fair?”

“Stop,” he interrupted you, loudly and sternly. “Just stop, for a goddamn second and just listen.”

In the last few years, you and Jihoon had had your fair share of fights. They were usually resolved pretty quickly and usually ended with a sleepless night in bed together, but lately, things have felt different. This was different. Jihoon had never raised his voice at you, not like this.

You stopped and listened.

“Yes,” he sighed, running his hands through his hair. “It is important for me to kiss their asses and to play along with the adoring crowd, and you know exactly why I need to do it. So fine, if you hate seeing people cheer me on then you don’t have to come. But be fucking serious with yourself first.”

“Excuse me?” you asked, taken aback by the way he cursed. Although he was more than an arm’s length away from you, you took a step back defensively. “This isn’t the life we promised each other, Jihoon.”

“What? A life where I’m living my dreams? Where I have you?” Jihoon scoffed and ran a hand through his hair. “Tell me then what life I’m supposed to have.”

“A life where we have each other,” you exclaim, frustrated. “A life where we have each other and it’s enough for you, Jihoon. Is that too much to ask for?”

He buried his face in his hands before standing to cautiously take a step towards you. “Please,” he sighed. “I’m sorry, I just...” he took a few more steps before reaching out for your hand. “What’s this really about, angel?”

Tears were now brimming your eyes as he continued to speak. “Is it really about the party, about me? Is it that you’re disappointed that another school rejected you? That you’re stuck in another dead end? Did you think this would all be easier than it turned out to be?”

You shook your head at him and pulled your hand out of his, walking back to the bed. You hated that you were fighting like this, and you hated that somewhere inside of you, you felt the self-doubt that you had pushed so far down coming back up.

It was hard not to be frustrated and disappointed with yourself when you were surrounded by everyone else’s success. You had worked as hard as he did and yet, life did not hand you the same rewards. And although lately you were beginning to finally feel like you were happy where you were, Jihoon was quick to remind you that you were far more than a few steps behind him. If your life now was enough for you, why wasn’t it for him? Was it enough for you or had you really given up?

The tears were spilling now, and you lay down, turning to the other side so Jihoon couldn’t see them.

“If I didn’t believe in you,” Jihoon began. You could hear that he had knelt down on the floor beside your side of the bed. “We wouldn’t have gotten this far. If I didn’t believe in you, if I didn’t think you could do anything you wanted, if I was certain that you’d come through... well the fact of the matter is that I wouldn’t be standing here now.”

You choked back a sob, aware that Jihoon definitely knew you were crying.

Jihoon’s hands found their way onto your side as he moved to sit beside you on the bed. You weren’t fully sure how you were feeling any more, but you shifted to move away from Jihoon ever so slightly and you heard him take a deep sigh as he retracted his hand from your side.

“Don’t we get to be happy?” he questioned, his voice beginning to raise again in frustration. Usually Jihoon’s sweet words would easily coax you back to his side. But tonight, they felt more like daggers than honey. “Like at any point down the line, don’t I get to be happy without you pushing me away? Why can’t you just be happy for me? Why do I have to feel like I’m committing a crime for doing something I’ve always dreamed of?”

He let out a sigh before continuing. “I will not fail so you can be comfortable,” he said with that calculated tone once again, an attempt to hide his frustration. His words betrayed his attempt. “I will not lose because you can’t win.”

He was quiet for a second and you wondered if he was finally finished. You were tired.

“If you just hold on, you’ll be fine,” he said, returning to a softer tone that didn’t match the heaviness of his words. “But don’t make me wait till you are to be happy with you.”

His words cut into you, but you couldn’t find it in you to look him in the eyes as he twisted the knife. He may have missed the point, but his pointed words found their way into your heart anyway.

He stood up and grabbed a pillow from beside you. The next time he spoke, he was further away. “If I didn’t believe in you,” he said quietly but loud enough for you to hear. “I wouldn’t have loved you at all.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

Taglist:@yksthings @alonelystarfish @coveyland @xuimhao @sana-is-ms-rmty @gummymintae @maverey @jespescially

#lee jihoon #woozi #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #woozi x reader #woozi scenarios #woozi fluff #lee jihoon x reader #woozi angst #lee jihoon angst #seventeen angst

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candycorncrave · 6 months

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So. Let's talk about Penacony and birds.

-Spoilers for the 2.1 quest (and possibly some of 2.2 if my theories and findings are correct)

Hey all! I'm not too good at starting these essay type things, so we're just gonna dive right in. Disclaimer, these are all just theories complied from random (not very in depth) research I did, and my own thoughts, so take it all with a grain of salt. I just wanted to put this out here for funsies!

With that out of the way, let's dive in!

From very early on into the Penacony quests, there was something that just kept nagging at me. Robin's name, (mixed with the fact that shes a singer.) The family's crest being a Nightingale. Aventurine's design very clearly representing a peacock. Ratio's owls.

There were just too many bird references for this all to be a coincidence, so I decided to do some research on bird symbolism and meaning.

And here are some very interesting things I found!

Now a lot of this is quite clear cut, so I won't go into alot of explanation, but I do find the "rebirth" part quite interesting, especially since it is hinted during the 2.1 quest that she came back from "death".

Let's start with Robin, since she's one of the more obvious ones: "Above all, the robin red-breast is a symbol of spring song and good fortune. Additionally, it also symbolises passion, a new beginning, and re-birth. Therefore, if the bird flies into your life you will be blessed with happiness and joy. Subsequently, most of the symbolism of robins is centred on their spiritual meaning which is believed to be a symbol of divine sacrifice." In native American culture, Robins also have strong ties with family and "heart centered connections."

Next up are Owls: Now this one is also pretty obvious. Dr Ratio's design has very heavy Greek inspiration, and owls in Greek mythology are very clearly tied with Athena, knowledge, and wisdom.

The thing I found interesting about this was all over Sunday's mansion, there are owls decorating a lot of the furniture. Could this have been foreshadowing for his "betrayal" and assisting Sunday? I'm not sure. In my opinion, that seems like quite a length to go to mislead players- especially since it's such a niche detail that most people probably won't think twice about. Maybe it will have more meaning in 2.2. Guess we'll wait and see!

3rd, Another obvious one, Black Swan: They symbolize the opposite of what the white swan does, naturally, so death, danger, destruction, suffering, chaos, mystery, etc.

Even more than that though, "The black swan theory of events is a metaphor that describes an event that comes as a surprise, has a major effect, and is often inappropriately rationalized after the fact with the benefit of hindsight."

Another one I don't feel the need to dig that deep into. It all pretty much checks out with what we've seen of her character and the events of the story so far. Black Swan is a scary lady....

4th, Let's talk about Peacocks: Now we all know peacocks are commonly associated with general wealth, pride, and flamboyance. I thought that was all there really was to it being such a big contributor to Aventurine's design. But I decided to dig a little deeper and. Oh boy.

Peacocks can also symbolize both death, and life. Now at face value this is quite contrasting, but when you apply it to Adventurine's character- it makes quite a lot of sense. A single coin flip between life and death that keeps landing face up, and yet, it's a gamble he never hesitates to make. Moreso, peacocks can symbolize the freedom and liberation of the soul. (OUCH)

And Let's finish off the doozy. Nightingales: The symbol of the family and the bird constantly following Sunday around and watching everything the entire quest without a sound.

"Nightingales are symbolic of beauty, melody, creativity, purity, and the expression of oneself freely. They are also symbolic of darkness, mysticism, spiritual awakening, and renewal."

Now I found that the latter is often meant when you see a nightingale in your dreams. It is also mentioned if they do not speak back to you in a dream you will soon be betrayed.

,,,, How intriguing.

Also intriguing, Bloodhounds are very well known to be hunting dogs, and birds are prey for dogs.

And speaking of prey,,, are fish not considered birds' prey? And Sparkle, who we see fish around every time she shows up, was the "victim" in Black Swan's quest.

Anyways. I could be grasping at straws with that last part, but I do feel there is alot of stuff going on here with animal symbolism, especially more to dig into with Gallagher and Sparkle. It's all very intriguing

If you read all this here's a cookie! 🍪 Thanks for your time :) I hope you enjoyed the ramblings of a madman. Please feel free to add anything or comment your thoughts! I'd love to discuss

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ramblings-of-a-mad-cat · 4 months

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I’m not familiar with Dr Who so why do people dislike Lindy?

(Spoilers for the new season if anyone is not caught up)

Ooh boy, this one is a doozy.

So, first thing to understand is that Doctor Who is a do-everything show. The protagonist is an alien called The Doctor who periodically changes his face (therefore the show can theoretically go on forever.) We currently have our first ever Black Doctor, played by Ncuti Gatwa. The Doctor travels in space and time. One episode could be about earth history, the next could be an alien planet. And they’ve had some weird ones.

Lindy Pepper Bean is the stereotypical white girl and that’s very much on purpose. living on a planet called Finetime. Yes, that is it’s actual name. A bunch of rich humans sent their kids there to serve as a vacation spot where they only have to work two hours a day. The rest of the time they are connected to a social media hub called The Bubble, which acts as a hologram obscuring their vision and it literally gives them directions on where to walk since they can’t see. When Lindy turns the Bubble off, she finds she has forgotten how to without it.

The Bubble is controlled by this floating computer called The Dot, and everyone has one. The AI has grown sentient over time, and it’s ultimately revealed that The Dots have grown to hate their human masters and wish to kill them. If you’re thinking this is a commentary on social meda, or on the dangers of AI…just wait. It gets worse. Finetime is exclusively white. Was that just a lack of diverse casting? Oh no. Let’s talk about Lindy.

Lindy is extremely selfish. She is arrogant, superficial, and rude to most people. Especially The Doctor. She is constantly condescending to him. More so than his (white) friend and companion, Ruby. This is not unheard of. The Doctor is a genius who often struggles with socializing, people don’t always like him. But in this episode, he and Ruby are presented as equals and they’re both just trying to save her life.

Lindy shows her true colors when she, without hesitation, throws another character named Ricky under the bus. After he saved her life and shieldee her from The Dots, after he told her to go without him, she stops them from attacking her by revealing information that she knows will cause the Dots to kill Ricky instead. Ricky was entirely innocent and one of the more enlightened people on Finetime, choosing to read books rather than use The Bubble.

Lindy shows absolutely no remorse for this and never faces any consequences because nobody finds out it happened. She lies through her teeth and says Ricky just went back to help more people escape The Dots. But the real kicker is what comes next.

The Doctor offers to save the survivors, who would otherwise be doomed. They refuse his help. He has a space timeship that could evacuate all of them. But they won’t go with him, because he is “not one of them.” Lindy singles out The Doctor, she doesn’t include Ruby in this judgment. According to her, talking to him onscreen was tolerable, but in person is just too much. They don’t ever directly state that it’s about skin color, but the subtext is painfully clear.

TL;DR: Lindy is selfish to the point of using other people as human shields, incapable of even walking properly thanks to her social media addiction, has an overall rude personality, and (this is the big one) she’s fucking racist.

#Lindy Pepper Bean #Dot and Bubble #Doctor Who #The Doctor #Finetime #Ricky September #Ruby Sunday #The Fifteenth Doctor #The 15th Doctor #Ncuti Gatwa #Dr Who

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archivalofsins · 3 months

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The Re-traumatization of Amane Momose Part 2

Today, we'll be continuing off from the previous post discussing Amane Momose's case.

In this post we'll be discussing points four and five.

Four being her father and home-life along with how the other prisoners are a danger to each other and Amane specifically.

Look I'm gonna level with everyone here I didn't want to write this.

Wha- Why?!

Amane's trial fucking sucked and I didn't really want to think about it that much anymore. Yet, I like Amane as a character and Milgram as a whole...

So, I can't keep avoiding talking about the things I enjoy the way I enjoy speaking about them even if I am anxious about the way I enjoy and speak about things that matter a lot to me hurting others in some way. I still owe it to myself to do what I enjoy doing regardless of how it will be received. The other reason was just legitimately you know when you start something and you have all this energy for it but then like you get super fucking sick or sidetracked then after a while you look back at it like oh that...

That also happened. Then I forgot all my points and my brief descriptions for myself were fucked to hell and not helpful. Because they worked solely on yeah I'll remember this later I'll know exactly what point I mean here when I discuss it briefly. Briefly names a color... Me presently with memory problems that are exacerbated through getting sick. Yeah I'm at a loss I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do with that.

Plus, my perspective changed because I've had more time to sit with the information. So yeah... We're dragging everyone into this now more so than I was going to before. So get ready for this doozy because this isn't just the retraumatization of Amane Momose anymore everyone's getting trauma!

Even me because I have the unique fear that by continuing to do this I will get severely sick again. Like this draft is cursed. I can feel the fatigue creeping up on me. I know it's psychosomatic but still. I'm willing to let it win.

So, let's get this over with before Haruka's birthday hopefully.

4. Amane's Father & Homelife

Over the course of Milgram Amane's father is alluded to a great deal. This aspect of her character is something shared between her, Haruka, Yuno, Futa, Mu, and Kazui. All characters who bring up their fathers to varying degrees.

Amane being on seemingly good terms with her father and proud of his character is something that directly contrasts Haruka and Futa's relationship with their fathers. This is something I believe to have been done with intent. As Futa and Amane's circumstances directly parallel the others.

Futa having an absentee mother and Amane having a father who is scarcely present due to his work. Leaving Futa and Amane to be raised by parents who would more than likely dote more on children of the other gender. Something highlighted through Haruka's narrative.

Trial 1 Written Interrogation

Q.05 What is your father like? Haruka: I made him disappointed.

Trial 2 Written Interrogation

Q.04 What’s the origin of your name? Haruka: Apparently my parents wanted a girl. It was decided on long before I was born. Q.06 What do you think of your father? Haruka: I don’t think he was particularly interested in me.

Haruka from the beginning of Milgram brings up gendered favoritism when it comes to parenting. Through subtly highlighting that his parents from the start wanted a daughter not a son. This brings up the concept of daddy girls and momma boys.

The fact that mothers tend to dote on sons more something we see Haruka's mom do a lot when he was younger then attempt to wean him off of as he ages. Because mothers tend to become more hands off as their sons grow older so they can grow into,

22/10/06 (Mikoto’s Birthday)

Haruka: Mikoto-san. Um, are you ok……?

Mikoto: Ah, Haru-kun. It’s been a while since we last talked, huh. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you doing ok……?

Haruka: Ah, I’m fine. I’ve been enjoying myself, a lot. Um, I’m sorry, for avoiding you. I was a bit scared. Of you, honestly……

Mikoto: Ahhh, yeah. I’ve been lashing out whenever I go to sleep, right? ……it’s fine. Even I think you’re right to be scared. You know, I kinda just hate that I don’t even know what’s going on myself…..haha. Ah, but despite all that you still came and talked to me because it’s my birthday, right? Thank you, you’ve grown into a good man.

Instead of growing too dependent on their mothers. They start actively going you can't rely on me for everything and withholding rewards for what after a point becomes expected behavior. This is something that's not completely dependent on how old a child is as mothers can start doing this at any time or just not dote on their sons at all.

Everyone's parenting style is different a good example of this is in Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha Strikers- Also two moms be upon ye!

youtube

People will be like Legend of Korra guys Steven Universe meanwhile in 2007. They walked so other shows could run- Honestly sure yeah they did their thing. Let's stop pretending others things haven't though. By the time those shows released I'd had this for a few years- I'm sorry I'm getting off topic.

People you want good queer rep yeah and I've been having it since I was twelve I won't refuse more though.

The point of me highlighting this is two the distinct difference between these two mom's parenting styles. Which was the reason the staff included it as well. To pretty much highlight having parents will always be having parents regardless of the gender of said parents.

Nanoha is strict with Vivio thinking that if she's helped up each time she trips and falls it will be spoiling her. She wants her to be able to get up on her own even though she's young because that is what she had to do. Fate on the other hand is more sympathetic because she has a whole other home life thing going that we can't go into depth with here because it spoilers. The point is she has the character motivation to see a crying child and go oh no I need to help even if the fall wasn't that bad like Nanoha pointed out.

These are extensions of their character arcs and background personified into their parenting styles. Something that impacts how even the worst of parents tackle parenting their own kids later in life. Now that doesn't excuse anything but it's a projection of experiences onto this new life. Parents try to raise their kids for the realities that they faced even if those are no longer the realities we live in.

Simply because no one can ever know when those things will become reality again. It's not reasonable, fair, right, or justified. It just something that impacts how we treat those around us.

And the example I just gave shows it can start much younger than the age Haruka was. Sometimes you can just skip the doting step immediately if a child's environment is hostile towards them and their parents believe the child needs to be prepared that coddling will not happen. In fact there are forms of attachment in childhood that are viewed as formative from when you're a baby.

If a baby doesn't cry it has psychological implications and how parents respond to a babies crying can impact the sort of attachment the child has to the parent. Haruka is shown to have anxiety around growing close to others and fear of being abandoned/discarded.

This is possibly something rooted in his childhood as well. As the fear mirrors his relationship with his mother. Who dotted on him to start and then began moving further and further away from him as noted through his lyrics,

"Why is it breaking? Tell me why? Please don’t change."

This leads into his anxiety around people changing their minds on him later. Along with serves to explain his volatile reaction to the fact that Es can change their verdict now.

One could say this aspect of Milgram is something that causes Haruka great personal distress and fear which he then displays through bursts of anger. As though being placed in such a situation is forcing him to relive the same trauma that got him into this predicament to begin with.

"Don’t leave me alone, don’t leave me- Why was I born like this? Why does it hurt so much?"

The same reasoning used to draw this conclusion on Haruka can be applied to Amane. Yet, Amane doesn't seem to have trouble with attachment though. She's a very straight forward earnest child. She's not against saying what she feels, verbalizing her needs, or stating when someone is doing something that causes her discomfort.

Her attachment style seems very secure and open.

Well not necessarily... Let's look into the information on this further and try to discern where Amane and some others may fit in the attachment styles based on what little we know about their home lives.

Firstly let's look at what NIH has to say on this matter,

There are four types of infant-parent attachment: three ‘organized’ types (secure, avoidant and resistant) and one ‘disorganized’ type (Table 1). The quality of attachment that an infant develops with a specific caregiver is largely determined by the caregiver’s response to the infant when the infant’s attachment system is ‘activated’ (eg, when the infant’s feelings of safety and security are threatened, such as when he/she is ill, physically hurt or emotionally upset; particularly, frightened). Beginning at approximately six months of age, infants come to anticipate specific caregivers’ responses to their distress and shape their own behaviours accordingly (eg, developing strategies for dealing with distress when in the presence of that caregiver) based on daily interactions with their specific caregivers (7–9). Three major patterns of responses to distress have been identified in infants, which lead to three specific ‘organized’ attachment patterns.

Above is a list of the quality of caregiving implemented and the types of attachment they form.

Sensitive Loving quality of care leads to organized secure attachment.

Insensitive rejecting quality of care leads to organized insecure-avoidant attachment.

Insensitive inconsistent care leads to organized insecure-resistant attachment.

Atypical Atypical care leads to disorganized insecure-disorganized attachment.

Infants whose caregivers consistently respond to distress in sensitive or ‘loving’ ways, such as picking the infant up promptly and reassuring the infant, feel secure in their knowledge that they can freely express negative emotion which will elicit comforting from the caregiver (9). Their strategy for dealing with distress is ‘organized’ and ‘secure’. They seek proximity to and maintain contact with the caregiver until they feel safe.

Just benefits from her parents.

Q.03 What are your parents like? Mu: Kind, cool and beautiful. I’m proud of both my Mama and Papa.

Q.11 Who do you want to see right now? Mu: I miss my friends too- But most of all, Papa and Mama.

Mu displays Organized Secure Attachment.

This is displayed through how she recognizes that if she cries someone will help her.

Along with her Japanese lyrics in It's Not My Fault being able to be directly translated (as many brought up during the songs release) to her acknowledging or pointing out the fact that she is an individual deserving of pity and concern from others. That she has always been an individual deserving of this care, special attention, and prioritization. along with stating that this will never change and it has always been this way.

"I told you I’m queen, and it will never be changed I’ve got EVERYTHING, everything is as I wish."

Mu recognizes that if her story is sad enough and she appears pitiful enough someone will want to save/help her.

This is also highlighted in her first song through the line,

"I don’t want tomorrow to come, I want to forget yesterday I was miserable, someone please help me."

Asking for help, displaying negative emotions, or voicing your issues to others is a sign of secure attachment and faith in the fact that if you voice these things you will receive help instead of being ignored or scorned outright.

Mu also displays she is innately unfamiliar with and irrationally upset by being ignored or overlooked. To an inconsolable extent at times. Being ignored by those she cares for or is interested in is not something she handles well. Because it is not something she has been put through often.

Mu's accustomed to having her needs meet and expects those around her to meet them.

"Hey..why don't you listen to me...? I'm telling you... Hey...HEY, I'M TALKING TO YOU!"

22/06/22 (Haruka’s Birthday)

Mu: What’s wrong, Haruka-kun? Did something happen? You shouldn’t look away like that when you’re together with me.

Haruka: Ah, s-sorry, Mu-san. Um…… No, it’s nothing. I just, suddenly got a feeling. That something is about to happen.

Mu: Isn’t that because it’s your birthday? Or perhaps it’s a sign the guard is about to wake up again soon? Fufufu, I bet they’ll be really surprised at a lot of things.

Haruka: That, might be true. But, I want the the guard to see. ……the new, me…….

22/07/05 (Mu’s Birthday)

Mu: Hey~~~ Isn’t everyone a bit gloomy lately? I get that this situation isn’t ideal, but you’re really bringing down the mood for my birthday.

Yuno: Haha, surely even you can tell now’s not really the time for something like that right. Nobody’s really in the mood, or rather nobody has time time to deal with something like that.

Mu: Boo, how boring. You seem to be free, you can celebrate for me. Go on, celebrate.

Yuno: Wow, what a pain. I’m reading the atmosphere properly and keeping quiet. Well, you just go and have fun with Haruka. In the corner somewhere so you’re out of everyone’s way.

21/07/05 (Mu’s Birthday)

Mu: Yuno. Don’t you have something to say to me?

Yuno: Huh? To you? Me? ……ahh, uh? Your birthday, right? Happy birthday~

Mu: How mean… Since it’s my birthday, I really wish you’d said something before I had to come and tell you myself.

Yuno: Right, right, I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful in future~ Later! Haha… things have become even more of a bother… ……so was that Mu-chan’s real personality, then? It’s probably because the guard did something, right?

One of the reasons that Mu is so comfortable with putting expectations like these not only on people she hasn't gotten to know that well yet but complete strangers (in the case of her asking the audience for help through the lyrics of After Pain) is because she's secure in the fact that she will receive it. Not only that but she believes it is only right for her to receive it.

Something she blatantly states later in It's Not My Fault if going by the more direct translations provided on wikipedia,

"It’s not my fault after all, after all! Everyone wants me to be innocent. What a relief. Can’t be helped. Since I’m always meant to be pitied-"

Beautiful day to make people uncomfortable with telling creators what the fuck they actually meant when they made something. Just a wonderful day to do that. It really is fantastic when I can use something that annoyed the hell out of me in the past to support a point now.

We've gone full circle I'm really reflecting on all of my experiences with Milgram thus far. So much has changed. Like the official lyrics of Undercover but not the ones for It's Not My Faults though. The more things change as they say... Seriously though they official translation for It's not My Fault does have grammatical errors that should be changed but it still gets the point across fine.

Here are the other lyrics in comparison.

"Because it’s not my fault I am innocent as everybody desires. I am relieved, I am always the drama queen."

These lyrics don't illustrate the point I'm making as well as the widely accepted more "accurate translation "according to others above. Except they still do support it.

Because the official translation plays on Mu's outward insecurities when she's first brought into Milgram. Along with how she's grown past those anxieties after being found innocent but is thrown back into them when Es brings up how and why they might change her verdict.

It reflects how she wants to believe she did nothing wrong and it isn't fully on her. Along with the genuine relief she feels at a majority of the audience recognizing that. To the point she again exaggerates saying everyone wanted her innocent,

"I am innocent as everybody desires."

Which couldn't be further from the truth.

While also continuing to poke fun at her own insecurities or shortcomings. Like how she's prone to being overdramatic and blowing things up into a bigger deal in her head than they actually are.

Again like saying everyone wanted her innocent which AGAIN-

No that's so far from everyone that you were closer to getting a 50/50 than Haruka was by the end of trial two. Girl that's not everyone it's barely over half.

Yet this habit of hers is something that has been repeatedly pointed out from the start of Milgram.

As this is also highlighted on the board berating Mu in After Pain. Which not only states that she just benefits from her parents but other mocking phrases that highlights she how she takes things further than they need to go such as,

“It hurts~ (cry)” "Cries at everything" "I did nothing wrong (crying imagery) ←huh?!" "Class 1-A “Trash”noki Mu-chan" (Potential double meaning, since on top of the word “guzu” being used to call someone trash, “guzuguzu” can also mean complaining.)

Her description on the Milgram website continues to highlight this habit of hers to cry at even the simplest of inconveniences as do the Minigrams too,

What follows is a rough rewording of what's in the image.

A beautiful prisoner with an appearance clearly uncommon for a Japanese woman. Despite her slim appearance, she’s the type to speak her mind clearly and rebels against the abnormal situation that is Milgram. At first, she is very wary of Es. Her every move suggests that she had a proper upbringing, most likely being born into a wealthy family. Perhaps it’s due to this that she has a high sense of pride and why when she clashes with others she quickly becomes tearful and complains.

Furthermore one of the things that showcases that Mu has a good relationship with her parents plainly is her own words. She has nothing but good things to say about her parents and implies she misses them greatly. The first thing she does in her interrogation a hostile environment is cry for several minutes than flat out say she wants her parents.

She even states in her written interrogation that she wants to find a man like her father,

Q.05 What do you like in the opposite sex?

Mu: Someone like Papa.

The strategy is said to be ‘organized’ because the child ‘knows’ exactly what to do with a sensitively responsive caregiver, ie, approach the caregiver when distressed.

God gave me everything, everything is as I wish.

And as Star pointed out her favorite place is also just her mothers hometown.

Q.07 What is your favourite place? Mu: Mama’s hometown of Nice. The sea there is beautiful.

A statement that not only implies her being on good terms with her mom simply due to her going out of the way to take Mu to her hometown. But also through her birthday art which has more ties to France and her mother,

Displaying full an well that she does take a certain amount off pride in her lineage and both of her parents. Yet she doesn't have some grand fixation on them they're just her parents. She has a life outside of them. She is the one being parented not the one doing the parenting-

Amane Trial 2 Written Interrogation

Q.10 What was your father’s job? Amane: After a lot of hard work, he became a lecturer. I think it’s something to be proud of. Q.19 Is there anything you wished you parents did for you? Amane: My mother should have kept her faith until the end.

Mikoto Trial 1 Written Interrogation

Q.01 Tell us your family structure. Mikoto: My mother, me, and my younger sister. My sister’s a blossoming high school student. Q.16 What’s your relationship like with your parents? Mikoto: My parents are divorced. I get along well with my mother though, she’s the one who raised me. I don’t want to make her worry.

Mikoto's Written Interrogation Trial 2

Q.01 Do you have a good relationship with your little sister? Mikoto: Absolutely I want to show her how her big bro is working hard in the big city. Q.04 What was the cause of your parents' divorce? Mikoto: He chose work over family. But well, at least that's what my mom told me, so who knows!

Mikoto actively shows insecurity and distrust in his mothers word. Displaying on paper for others to see that she isn't a trustworthy person and prone to exaggerate or embellish to get her point across. Making him uncertain about what the actual truth behind his parents divorce ways because and I quote,

"My mom told me, so who knows!"

On top of that he states she's prone to worrying and she's shown calling him within the same music video he is shown to be getting repetitive harassing and emotionally distressing calls and texts. To the point of wanting to throw away his phone all together.

I also think it's telling that his break down on the train is framed to have happened exactly after his phone call with his mother. As we see him talking on the phone to her directly in front of the same bright window he breaks down in front of earlier.

And when put together the scenes look like they happened in succession as though he hung up and immediately started having a break down. Yet, you know that's just my perspective the perspective of a person with mom issues that have thankfully worked out after repeated trial and error. So I could just be projecting I'm not above it.

I know full and well though that the last thing I'd need after a bad day is being emotionally manipulated into feeling like a failure because I,

A. Haven't visited home in a while.

And

B. I haven't called in much longer.

Because all I have time for is work and sleep. Work-life balance isn't a see-saw it's a noose and I'm hanging hoping the thread breaks.

I'm getting folded by the workforce like laundry that was left to form mildew in the wash, not put on for another rinse and instead just slapped against a wall then hung up to dry. Because we don't got time anymore this is what we have and it reeks but we carry on.

We stay grinding- Get back to work!

Getting the old you failed at your job and home life one-two uppercut ey? Sucks to be you bud but you're holding the record for the worst day speedrun one phone call after another it never stops.

Yuno Written Interrogation Trial 1

Q.07 Tell us your family structure. Yuno: Grandpa, grandma, mum, me, younger brother←Yura Q.19 Who do you want to see right now? Yuno: Hmm. My family, I guess.

Image 1 MINIGRAM EP6 "Cat's Cradle"

[6-1] Yuno: My special move Yuno: Tokyo Tower! Yuno: No reaction?? Sob... Amane: I'm not very familiar with this Yuno: My younger brothers went crazy over this Amane: You're very skillful Kya kya Futa: .....

Image 2: MINIGRAM EP28 "2nd Grade Syndrome"

[28-2] Kazui: Wow.. you're really good...? Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat Yuno: Ahh Yuno: I used to play with my little brothers, so a little.. Kazui: I can't see what you're doing with your hands.. Yuno: My brothers favorites are much bigger tricks Suu.. Kazui: Even bigger tricks?!

Yuno's Written Interrogation Trial 2

Q.06 What do you think of your father? Yuno: Didn’t you ask about my family structure before? I don’t have one, remember? Q.07 You just got given one million yen and need to use it up as quickly as possible, what will you do? Yuno: I’ll go out for a really nice meal together with my family. The rest I’ll give to my friends. Q.15 If you could have one wish granted, what would it be? Yuno: I don’t really have anything. I’m fine as long as my friends and family are happy.

Yuno takes on a caretaker role when it comes to her friends and family. Focusing solely on providing for them when given a large sum of money and saying she's fine as long they're happy. Following the trend of displaying care and paternal affection/consideration towards loved ones. With the same amount of focus on her younger sibling as Mikoto has.

Amane is also referred to as a big sister at the end of Magic. Tying the three together as older siblings who provide care to others in some way. However, Amane admits in her first interrogation that she is in fact an only child.

Q.09 Tell us your family structure.

Amane: It was my father, my mother and me.

She honestly speaks in past tense knowing full and well at this point her mother is dead while her father to her admission in the same interrogation has yet to return,

Q.02 Who do you look up to? Amane: My father. He’s been away on a trip for a while, but I think that’s very honourable of him. Q.13 Who do you want to see right now? Amane: My father. I want him to praise me for all my hard work.

This leaves two possibilities for why Amane refers to herself as big sister in Magic,

A. She may have been put in the foster care system after the death of her mom.

B. She's referring to herself as big sister for religious reasons. i.e to imply seniority to the individuals just learning about her beliefs. Similar to how Mahiru refers to herself as big sister to both Es and Amane.

It could be both of these things as well.

Since Amane admits in both her voice dramas that she wants to spread her beliefs and practices to others. Highlighting her willingness to use Milgram to accomplish this goal. Not just through her the music videos or Milgram's validation if she were voted innocent but through the individuals the prison has given her access to if the opportunity arises.

This also plays into Yuno's comfort in asking Amane for advice on her birthday.

Because if those same things were discussed with her when she was Amane's age than Yuno wouldn't find confiding in someone that age about things like that inappropriate. Because on some level be it conscious or subconscious Yuno would recognize that Amane is a child similar to how she was.

Yuno's First Voice Drama

Yuno: Hmm, it's surprisingly fun? I do have worries about how my family is doing, but… It's kinda like one of those strange, personal experiences.

Es: Fun…is it?

Yuno: That's right. The other prisoners are all entertaining, we sound each other out on various things, and the vibe's pretty nice as well. In such conditions, observing other people sure does make for great fun, you feel?

23/06/27 (Amane’s Birthday)

Amane: What is it…… Kashiki Yuno. Don’t sit so close to me. Go away.

Yuno: Sorry for barging in when you’re getting into your worldview thing. But Mahiru-san’s finally managed to get to sleep. Humour me with some small talk while I take a break. By the way, Amane. Have you ever wished you were never born? I’ve thankfully lived a pretty fun life so far, so haven’t really. But you seem to be struggling with something. So I kinda wondered if you thought like that.

Amane: ……I don’t think that. Being born into this world is the first miracle any person experiences, and is something to celebrate. Even if after birth I was put through trial after trial, the value of that will never disappear.

Yuno: Hmm. Ok. ……happy birthday, then. It’s good that you were brought into the world, I guess.

Yuno Trial Two Voice Drama

Es: It did appear as though you were having fun.

Yuno: Yes, it was fun! They may be murderers, but they're interesting people! It puts me at ease, in a way, that we're all people lacking in something.

In the same vein Mikoto would be more uncomfortable with talking to Amane like an adult given his own discomfort with his mother's possible behavior when he was coming up. So, he would try to avoid doing it and focus more on treating her like someone her age but not demeaning her.

This is displayed in how he deals with both Amane and Futa through the portal timeline and in minigrams. Mostly the ways he restricts himself from confiding in them fully,

21/10/06 (Mikoto’s Birthday)

Mikoto: ……ah, Futa? What’s up? Did you come to celebrate my birthday?

Futa: Hah!? Like I care about your birthday. ……what’s up with you, though, you’re usually a lot more excited. I thought you were the sort of idiot who’d make a big deal over your birthday.

Mikoto: Yeah, usually that’d be the case. ……I think I must be getting tired. It’s like I’m anxious over something but I can’t really explain what it is…… Like, the feeling that I’ve been totally wrong about something. Haha, but it’s not like talking to you about it is gonna do anything.

Futa: Yeah, yeah, just like you say. Talking to me about it isn’t gonna help. ……but, it’s not like I don’t get what you’re saying. Or rather, I understand exactly what you mean. And if it’s the same thing as I’ve been feeling, then it will just get stronger as time goes on......probably. But anyway, rather than talking to someone like me you should go and bother the others. Go and get showered with their stupid birthday wishes.

20/07/15

Amane: Eh, my studies? I enjoy it. To me, studying is something I do for fun. Do you not think the same, Mikoto-san?

Mikoto: Not at all! It’s just a means to an end…… I just did the bare minimum needed to get into a good company. I actually went to an arts uni that had a pretty low subject requirement to enrol, and from there I studied curation and…… uhh, you don’t really know what that is huh. Hmm. Since your way of speaking is so mature, I keep forgetting I need to explain myself properly……

Amane: It’s fine. If there are any words I don’t understand I can look them up later. An arts university, though…… Does that mean you’re good at drawing, then? It may be a bit rude to say, but that’s rather unexpected.

Mikoto: No, not really…? I mean, I could do the bare minimum needed to pass the entrance exam though. Even though it’s called an arts uni, there’s still subjects where you don’t need to draw at all. I’m the sort of person who tries to be efficient, so I worked backwards from the job I wanted to get into and chose to study subjects like direction and management~ ……ah, I’ve done it again……

20/06/15

Mikoto: Hey, it’s kinda a bother having you be so angry and tense all the time. You should stop trying get everyone to pay attention to you.

You’re a uni student, right? You can’t act like that once you start working properly.

Futa: Huh!? Shut up. Not like I care what you say. Even though we’re in this shitty situation, you’re just chatting away, it’s stupid. Aren’t you the one who’s acting out of place here? ……also the fact you give everyone nicknames is just gross.

Mikoto: *sigh* It’s more stupid to be taking this all so seriously. I mean, it’s definitely just a reality TV program. There’s no way a real prison exists that’s this lax. Also, I don’t give nicknames to everyone.

I don’t give them to young kids like Amane, or to the hard-to-approach types like Shidou-san. I mean, I’m not giving you one, right?

Futa: ……oi, which group are you trying to say I am?

Mikoto tends to take this approach with most people younger than him. More associating himself with the older adults in Milgram but distancing himself when stressed or upset from everyone. Just like Yuno and Amane are shown to do as well.

Infants whose caregivers consistently respond to distress in insensitive or ‘rejecting’ ways, such as ignoring, ridiculing or becoming annoyed, develop a strategy for dealing with distress that is also ‘organized’, in that they avoid their caregiver when distressed and minimize displays of negative emotion in the presence of the caregiver.

Yuno interestingly enough, has a worse attachment style than Kazui. Her attachment style is more around Mikoto, Amane and Haruka's. Unlike Mahiru (who's attachment is more akin to Mu's), to use as an example, Yuno isn't as willing to voluntarily display negative emotions,

Nor does she often actively seek out her emotional needs being fulfilled by an outside party.

Instead, she focuses on how she can earn those needs being met from others (i.e. what kind of girls do you like? I know you'll respond this way if I do x). Furthermore, she shows discomfort at the idea of being pitied or pointing out her life may not be an ideal one.

Which, as you may be able to tell, is similar to Amane. This is indicative on unhealthy or disordered ways to cope with unsatisfactory circumstances.

Yuno is also conflict avoidant similarly to Mikoto, showcased by how her interactions with Mu within the portal timeline progress over the course of the trials. Instead of telling Mu the issues she has with her the moment she notices them, she opts to avoid her instead. Or if she really must deal with her simply placate her in the moment or give her a distraction.

Hoping Mu will eventually read the room and get the hint like she would be expected to. This leads to Yuno allowing Mu to do whatever she wants, even if it's clearly bothering her. Because Yuno is subconsciously expecting Mu to do what she herself would do intuit that her behavior is a nuisance to the people in Milgram, especially with how circumstances escalate between trial one and two.

Theoretically, this would indicate that Yuno was left to figure out her own problems or ignored as a baby. Which would make her less comfortable asking for or offering help overall. As she would not have the foundational knowledge for that to be something she leans into.

The strategy is said to be ‘organized’ because the child ‘knows’ exactly what to do with a rejecting caregiver, ie, to avoid the caregiver in times of need. This avoidant strategy is also ‘insecure’ because it increases the risk for developing adjustment problems.

Yuno starts to avoid people when showered with concern or sympathy because it distresses her closing herself off simply because it's something she isn't used to. Just like being ignored isn't something Mu is used to. Meanwhile Amane and Mikoto isolate themselves and withdraw when faced with scrutiny, negative reinforcement, judgement, stress of any kind.

Infants whose caregivers respond in inconsistent, unpredictable and/or ‘involving’ ways, such as expecting the infant to worry about the caregiver’s own needs or by amplifying the infant’s distress and being overwhelmed, also use an ‘organized’ strategy for dealing with distress; they display extreme negative emotion to draw the attention of their inconsistently responsive caregiver.

Q.02 Do you think you were loved?

Amane: Extremely, deeply.

"She’s the one who raised me I don’t want to make her worry." - "Yeah… well, I mean, some days are hard, but… I’m doing alright, don’t worry."

"But it's not scary at all, because it's love."

"It’s like what’s wrong isn’t wrong."

So I will NEVER forgive you if this is happening to me even though I’m right. - So nary a sound can be uttered a second time, I’ll crush your throat too!

Is it ok to spoil myself? - Is this selfish? This isn’t too much is it?

The strategy is said to be ‘organized’ because the child ‘knows’ exactly what to do with an inconsistently responsive caregiver, ie, exaggerate displays of distress and angry, resistant responses, ‘hoping’ that the marked distress response cannot possibly be missed by the inconsistently responsive caregiver.

22/06/27 (Amane’s Birthday)

Kazui: What’s up, Shidou-kun? You’re looking pretty down. I guess you must be tired, I’ve been relying on you a lot lately.

Shidou: Yeah, I just remembered…… today is Amane’s birthday.

I’m just getting a bit sentimental.

Kazui: Hmm, it’s unfortunate, but at the moment we can’t worry about that. ……you understand, right? There’s something that you need to do right now. And if you tried talking to her your words definitely won’t reach her. Don’t look at me like that. We’ll just wait until the situation changes. Let’s do our best.

Shidou: Yeah. I’ll do what I can. I can’t have a child making a face like that. Even though we’re “murderers”…… we’re also the adults here.

Q.07 Are there any prisoners you get along with?

Shidou: Kayano-kun has become like that, and I can’t spend my time smoking at the moment. So, the smoking trio has disbanded, which is a bit lonely.

However, this resistant strategy is also ‘insecure’ because it is associated with an increase in the risk for developing social and emotional maladjustment.

However, Mikoto and Amane could also fall under Disorganized Attachment,

Approximately 15% of infants in low psychosocial risk and as many as 82% of those in high-risk situations do not use any of the three organized strategies for dealing with stress and negative emotion. These children have disorganized attachment. One recently identified pathway to children’s disorganized attachment includes children’s exposure to specific forms of distorted parenting and unusual caregiver behaviours that are ‘atypical’. Atypical caregiver behaviours, also referred to as “frightening, frightened, dissociated, sexualized or otherwise atypical”, are aberrant behaviours displayed by caregivers during interactions with their children that are not limited to when the child is distressed. There is evidence to suggest that caregivers who display atypical behaviours often have a history of unresolved mourning or unresolved emotional, physical or sexual trauma, or are otherwise traumatized (eg, post-traumatic stress disorder or the traumatized victim of domestic violence)

As there ways of displaying attachment are not entirely consistent with any of the other three. Plus they have both been confirmed or heavily implied to have dissociative disorders which have been tied to disorganized attachment,

Of the four patterns of attachment (secure, avoidant, resistant and disorganized), disorganized attachment in infancy and early childhood is recognized as a powerful predictor for serious psychopathology and maladjustment in children. Children with disorganized attachment are more vulnerable to stress, have problems with regulation and control of negative emotions, display oppositional, hostile, aggressive behaviours and coercive styles of interaction. Disorganized attachment is over-represented in groups of children with clinical problems and those who are victims of maltreatment (eg, nearly 80% of maltreated infants have disorganized attachment). The combination of disorganization and a parental rating of a difficult temperament is a potent predictor of aggressive behaviour in children at five years of age. In addition, disorganized attachment in infancy has been linked to internalizing and externalizing problems in the early school years, poor peer interactions and unusual or bizarre behaviour in the classroom, and higher teacher ratings of dissociative behaviour and internalizing symptoms in middle childhood. Concurrent disorganized/controlling behaviour rated in the preschool and early school years related to oppositional defiant disorders in boys, parent-rated externalizing and internalizing problems, and high levels of teacher-rated social and behavioural difficulties in class. Children classified as disorganized with their primary caregiver at ages five to seven years have lower mathematics attainment at eight years of age.

These academic problems appear to be mediated through effects on self-esteem and confidence in the academic setting. Children with disorganized attachment have low self-esteem, and at nine years of age are more often rejected by peers. Adolescents who had disorganized attachment with their primary caregiver during infancy have higher levels of overall psychopathology at 17 years of age, and those classified as disorganized at five to seven years of age exhibit impaired formal operational skills and self-regulation at 17 years of age. Finally, children with disorganized attachment are vulnerable to altered states of mind, such as dissociation in young adulthood.

Now that we've gotten possibly attachment styles out of the way let's talk about one of the other parents who would instill those attachment styles, Amane’s father!

He’s noticeably absent from Purge March. It’s stated on one of the documents seen behind Amane that he’s currently absent because he is out doing missionary work. However, we already know how her father is doing with spreading the word of their church as he's shown in Magic.

This is because her father is represented by Yuri throughout her first MV.

We know this is a stand in for her father for a few reasons.

One, in Magic when the lines,

“I won’t say, “I’ve had enough.” Will you laugh with me and forgive me?”

Are sung we see this image,

Q.09 Tell us your family structure.

Amane: It was my father, my mother and me.

“I hope, I hope everyone can be happy and smile forever. Forever together would be a dream.”

All she did was dream (about having a better family guys). Just like Kazui,

"I realize the futility, but I still can’t help but dream."

And Mikoto- Sorry getting sidetracked. You all voted that poor girl guilty just because she dreamed of having kinder parents. Haha- I'm fucking with you I'm sorry I know that's not why anybody did that shit that was hyperbole I don't need anyone taking that out of context. I'm really just fucking around because I haven't written in a minute and I'm having fun.

Oh, my god could you imagine if I really thought it was that,

"Let’s keep it simple."

Kazui would be having a ball until the last shoe dropped that's for sure. God I hope he's having a ball because the curtain will be rising one last time eventually.

Until then let's keep swinging to the music.

We also see within the scene with Amane, Riyone, and Yuri that the other two mascots are no longer present. It's just the three of them. Something Star and I previously pointed out was odd since Gachata and Gozake were there the scene prior to this one and return for the credits.

However, as they are representative of Amane’s mothers (Riyone’s) punishment methods it makes sense for them to be gone in this scene.

Because, within a perfect dream world for Amane her mother would be just that her mother. A caretaker who she can have fun around and someone who will take care of her when she's hurt or forgive her when she messes up hence the line,

"Will you laugh with me and forgive me?"

However, the end of Magic shows us that all of that is clearly just a dream. A fantasy of how things could have been that ultimately gets broken down by the reality of the situation until the credits roll and there's nothing really left but to face reality.

Because the shows over and when it ends it's back to real life.

Leaving us with this one snippet of Amane's reality in Magic at the very end of it,

Right before the Milgram credits roll.

Which is honestly the most subtle lead in to the very on the nose display of dissociation we get after and is a scene that goes wildly overlooked. Like do a full watch through of Milgram trial one all together and see Magic and MeMe back to back and you'll see just how well one leads into the other.

One ending on this distorted tv like effect the screen in front of the character reflected in their eyes straight into the tv footage of MeMe. Like that was planning and intent right there. That's only more appreciated in hindsight.

Milgram fans will be like I dissociate to media and then vote the one character who's canonically shown doing that from jump first guilty because she's religious. Mikoto did that shit second. Oh man coming back with self callouts too this will certainly be a day. I didn't appreciate it when I should have. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes.

I'm sorry can you laugh and forgive me. (Amane begins crushing my throat). Look I was born and raised in the cult happy midwest of the USA and don't trust people who advertise they're trying to spread any good word actually ever regardless of what the religion is. I just don't trust like that. Because again when cults and gangs are a prominent issue within your area you're kind of raised not to.

As said earlier, Amane's father is hardly there.

However, Amane's mother may be using his absence to use him as a tool to make Amane more obedient. Or, a better way of phrasing it, more willing to listen to her specific version of their religion. This would offer an explanation as to why there is a picture of him on the back of their front door. It would make it all the more easier for Amane's mother to point at it, citing that she's not acting in accordance to his teachings, or that what she wants Amane to do does. Also explaining why Amane says that she wants her father to praise her in one of her interrogation questions.

Q.13 Who do you want to see right now?

Amane: My father. I want him to praise me for all my hard work.

It explains the discrepancy of her father's presence in Magic when Amane is found helping the cat vs his absence in Purge March.

Since we know in reality that Amane's father was present for any of this but her mom was told after. Yet Yuri is still shown disappointed in the background and Amane has stated one of the goals of her actions was making her father proud. Couple with lines such as,

"I’ve made up my mind so they don’t make that face at me again."

Along with the fact that all of the other mascots faces within Magic are blank and Yuri is the only one visibly disappointed or upset by Amane's behavior. It's pretty likely that this is a case of separate parenting styles and their impacts on Amane being displayed through her songs.

Something Amane brings to the forefront during her first voice drama as she states that her parents would have lectured her for another hour if she were late to such an appointment. Giving the impression that when her parents were both involved in reprimanding her the punishments were a lot less severe.

While making it seem like her father was more prone to voicing disappointment in her not through physical scolding- Something the mascot Yuri is shown to dislike doing but verbally.

Re-contextualizing Amane's repeated lyrics of,

"I swear! I'm going to be a good girl now! That's it!"

As a promise she's making to her dad after having it explained to her why her behavior was wrong or inappropriate. Something that would also give a different meaning to the right answer, wrong answer animation that happens near the beginning of Magic.

Yuri is also the only one of the mascots to not have the cults double cloud symbol on their body. It's only on the collections box he carries. Denoting that her father may not follow the same beliefs as her mom or at least not as strictly.

Then as I brought up before Yuri is the only one to show hesitance when physically punishing Amane. He even appears visibly upset when made to do so. In contrast every other mascot that is used to represent her mother or her mother’s forms of punishment is shown to either be indifferent, disappointed or at peace with delivering these punishments.

I also find it telling that all these punishments are delivered in separate closed off spaces without the others being visibly present when they are cycled through.

Yet, the one time that Yuri is present for a punishment it is the lightest one Amane receives. More than likely representing how her mother knows her behavior is out of line and she does not behave this way when her father is present due to understanding that.

Something already implied through the scenes described and shown above and how they are separated from each other when the harsher punishments occur. Furthermore, despite the punishment being lighter Amane still braces herself expecting her mother’s punishment to be the same as it is when her father is not around.

Then to add onto this instead of looking at Amane Gatchata is instead looking over at Yuri’s to gauge their reaction. Their left pupil being slightly higher than where it would need to be to look at Amane.

Those are all of the reasons I believe Yuri to be a standin for Amane's father.

Now, by this point many have noted that the purple in Amane's eyes is a color unaffiliated with the cult. However, the color is not unaffiliated with Amane or her behavior within this cult environment.

In fact, we see the same color in Magic,

in conjunction with orange.

These colours seem to represent ideals that have been instilled within Amane. Orange being from her father and purple being from the school she attended. These ideals conflict with her mother's teachings, so would lead to long term conflicts between Amane and her mother. As talked about above and within the previous posts, her mother's and father's teachings don't fully align.

Amane is also alluded to watch a tv program which prominently features a character called a "Healthy Tomboy".

As you can see, this character (as depicted in Magic) has band-aids for ears. Implying that one of the reoccurring themes of the show is to teach how to provide light medical aid to those that may need it (for example... maybe tying a handkerchief around a cut to prevent infection and further bleeding?).

This plays into Shidou asking Amane to help him when she confronts him on his behavior,

22/10/24 (Shidou’s Birthday) Amane: ……Kirisaki Shidou. How long do you plan on continuing this foolish behaviour? Shidou: I wonder what you might be referring to there. I’m just doing what I need to do. If anything, I’d be happy if you would lend me a hand. Amane: I warned you. I can no longer turn a blind eye to this wickedness taking place right in front of us. You’re bringing ruin unto yourself. Do you understand? Shidou: No, I don’t understand. It’s my job as an adult to teach you that throwing a temper tantrum isn’t going to make everything go your way. If it’s a test of endurance you want, I’m happy to oblige, Amane.

There is also just the matter of what she would learn at school, such as things like science and biology. Incidentally, kids being taught things like this at school is why in the states, deeply religious families choose to home school their children instead of allowing them to go to a public school. As it gives them a larger degree of control of what exactly their kids learn and internalize. However, this is something that is not allowed in Japan, thus not an option either of Amane's parents are able to choose.

( Star here! Learning about science and biology would highlight how you could help with preventable issues and how leaving said issues to fester could make things worse for the person experiencing them. This would probably stick with Amane, as a long standing trait that we've seen her have is compassion.

Furthermore, this would be exasperated both by the fact that Amane's father doesn't seem to stay at home very often and the implication that she was very much favoured by him when he was around. This might have led to Amane's mother not only taking out her upset at the disconnect between her and her daughter but also a twisted envy/frustration at Amane taking her husband's attention. Which, I need to specify, isn't a good reason to abuse a child but it does add context.)

5. The Threat All the Prisoners Pose

Now we're going to speed through this one by one. Because there are a lot of threats the prisoners pose and also I'm on a deadline because Haruka's birthday is today!

So to make this easier on myself let's talk about the risk of each prisoner alongside how much of a threat Haruka can be considered to them based on his own admission.

Since he states with not much prompting that he can kill anything smaller than him.

"...You're. You're so mean... I, I-I can kill anything that's smaller than me, you know!"

Before attempting to attack Es. Which people loved to forget during his trial but Amane with those scissors am I right? Like I know she's Innocent and he's guilty but like in hindsight... I really didn't see this aspect of his case being discussed or highlighted as much.

Especially when it came to arguing for him being guilty where this information would be the most helpful for pushing the idea that he should have been. Honestly I wasn't making that argument myself I was in favor of a 50/50 or innocent again because clearly people changing their opinion of him is very triggering to him.

Yet I wasn't that involved with the fandom back then. I was more just starting and this blog didn't even exist yet. So maybe others did argue that and I didn't see it.

However, most of the arguments in favor of him being guilty were more focused on either his safety or Mu's. Something I wouldn't point out so heavily if the same thing didn't happen with Mikoto as well. Where a lot of people conveniently forgot he spent his first voice drama wringing Es out like a wet rag and slapping 'em against pavement.

Haruka is 174cm or 5"7. Meaning by his own admission he is a threat to whatever is beneath that height.

Jackalope: 80cm

Threat Level: COULD BE KILLED BY HARUKA

Jackalope is a tiny animal we see Haruka kill many throughout his songs. Chances are since we haven't gotten an end of trial commencement notice he may be dead. Would that be fucked up or what. However, Jackalope states in es' voices drama that the prisoners cannot attack administrators. Something that Jackalope himself is. So put away the cake, the party poppers, and balloons. Jackalope is either being lazy or watching the messiest shit imaginable and laughing his as off.

He's not going anywhere anytime soon unless- Mikoto can attack administrators let's hope he doesn't get a taste for rabbit. Amane and Jackalope seem to be accomplices so if Haruka did successfully attack Jackalope that would explain why in his headphone lines he's apologizing to Amane. Because he would be well aware she liked Jackalope by this point.

But it's not very likely because the barrier did stop Haruka from attacking Es in his second voice drama. So, it would more than likely serve the same function for Jackalope.

Es: 157cm

Threat Level: MENACE PRISON GUARD (YOU CAN'T KILL ME STUPID)

Literally states in Haruka's second voice drama despite spending most of Mikoto's first one getting spun like a hula-hoop that Haruka can't kill them due to the barrier that had already failed once. So, Es lucky it worked this time and they were in fact correct. Mikoto could still in fact jump Es. Because he is unrestrained to Jackalope's admission and the verdict he received did nothing to change that fact.

So, we just have to trust he won't do anything wrong which definitely worked with the prisoner he's paired with first trial. But I'm fine with wrong being done in the right direction and sometimes that's all you can really hope for on this bitch of an earth. I'm not responsible for what this dude does with his freedom anyhow.

Yuno: 156cm- 5"1

THREAT LEVEL: COULD BE KILLED BY HARU-HM UH MAYBE NOT...?

It's highlighted in Yuno's first voice drama that her attitude would not change even if Es was a large individual using violence against her.

Yuno: Isn’t it odd? Even though you’re a prison guard, you’re about my age, aren’t you? Or even a little younger?

Don’t care.

Yuno: Look, look. It’s impossible, isn’t it? To break out in a cold sweat over a face that cute.

Huh?

Yuno: [giggles] Even if you furrow your brows like that, it’s not gonna happen.

Frustrating and disagreeable beyond belief! Not to mention, I can counter your point.

Yuno: Oh, oh. Let’s hear it then?

If I were a strong man, who tried to control you with violence, I don’t think your attitude would change even then.

Yuno: Hm. Sure. Sounds about right.

Right? It’s… your very own temperament which is the problem! Therefore, this has nothing to do with my appearance. Absolutely nothing to do with it!

Yuno: Getting super worked up over it, aren’t you? Well, that’s okay. So, that concludes the first round!

Something she fully states is just about right. Not denying the assumption at all.

So, if Haruka can kill anything smaller than him then Yuno might just be able to kill anything larger than her. I'm interested to see Haruka try but like in the same way I'm interested in seeing a stoat fight a rabbit I know the stoats going to win. I'd be more surprised if it didn't.

I would not recommend anyone other than Kazui, Mahiru, or Mikoto fight Yuno. Even then it'd be tentatively like only if you have to but maybe just fucking avoid doing that.

Not making Yuno you're enemy is much more beneficial than any reward from having a conflict with her is worth. Because chances are you have a conflict with her you're losing your life too. She has admitted that no one is important to her even herself. She does not care she has gone on record saying I don't matter and neither do you.

Yuno is the type who will die on that hill with you but make sure you stop breathing first. Then if by some miracle she lives she's probably not even gonna be happy about it.

Her response to Mikoto's fight was to marvel at his strength.

"Also, Mikoto-san was also attacked but apparently it ended up in something of a draw. That guy was strong, huh—how unexpected."

Then call Kotoko an idiot for acting violently where everyone could see. Naw, I'm not fucking with her, I don't know if Haruka could kill her or not. I doubt it but it would definitely be a square up.

I just wouldn't recommend anyone fuck with her like at all. Just don't bother her.

Also she may kill Mu. Because Mu simply refuses or does not know how to read a room/take a hint and stop bothering her but I've discussed that before.

Fuuta: 165cm- 5"4

Threat Level: AN EYE FOR AN EYE (COULD BE KILLED BY HARUKA)

He could be killed by Haruka but seems to be on good terms with him. So, I don't think he would be attacked by Haruka. However, he is planning to attack Kotoko, along with possibly Shidou, and Mikoto.

Kotoko did a good job of making enemies with her actions in response to trial one and Futa is reactionary. He partakes in reactionary violence it would not suprise me if he tried to attack her.

Look when people start talking like,

Q.12 Are there any prisoners you don’t get on with?

Futa: Can you not tell by looking at my face? Obviously Kotoko.

Then maybe they just have an issue with that person and may act on it.

Yet, maybe this is a situation where being apart of whatever Amane has going on will make it so he can't do that. Since it goes against the tenants recited in Purge March. He'd only be able to react to a wrong done to him after this point unless him and Amane are both petty. Which at that point we have a different set of issues entirely.

However, it seems that Futa and Amane are more absorbed with Shidou's actions which given Shidou has been abundantly clear about extracting that fang. People should be hoping he's jumped by a middle schooler and a college student.

Makes Kotoko's life a bit easier honestly.

Muu: 162cm- 5"3

Threat Level: MOM

She's Haruka's mom if he didn't kill the one in the mvs (to our knowledge currently) I'm not that concerned about her safety when it comes to Haruka. She seems to mostly be trying to make herself useful while not handling her verdict as well as she could be.

However, since she's focused on making use of herself, chances are she's not going to be interested in causing any trouble. Because that would be counterproductive to displaying her worth in this instance. Now, since most of her utility hinges on taking care Haruka that creates a conflict of interest when it comes to him possibly dying.

Because no one else needs her. So, if Haruka were to die, she may react poorly to that. Even though she said she supported him in all his endeavors because that's what friends do. This was also one of the reasons I thought the continued foreshadowing of the suicide was odd because it would be incredibly unhelpful to Mu if he did do that.

Like that's actually just not going to help her at all and it doesn't seem like something he wants to do. It also doesn't really cover why it took him so long to plan it and why he would need to tell others ahead of doing it. The only thing that explains the amount of time it's taken is that we were expressedly told nothing noteworthy is able to happen until after the trial.

Mu does seem to be upset with Yuno and projecting the same animosities/expectations she had for her victim onto her. So, that's an issue to look out for. Oh, she seems a bit jealous of Mahiru, which has been a consistent thing. Mahiru is also still in a very vulnerable position because Shidou is simply a bad doctor, so she would be easy to kill.

Shidou: 180cm- 5"9

Threat Level: IS THERE A DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE?!

Couldn't be killed by Haruka based on Haruka's own logic. Because he's larger than him. However, he can in fact catch heat from that middle schooler that's half Haruka's size. I don't know what Amane has planned but I think that shit would be hilarious. Haruka is five foot seven Amane is four foot seven.

I don't think Haruka should have tapped out so early. He needs to expand his horrizons. He could kill Shidou. Hell, if they all work together- I'm sorry, but no, Shidou has a serious target on his back.

Not just from Futa and Amane but Kotoko as well. He pretty much successfully attempted to take her position and cemented himself as indispensable to Es something she failed to do. I don't defend Kotoko a lot (when I do, I am simply the best at it), but if she did kill him I would understand why.

The dude isn't hiding the fact that he kills kids and he's been innocent twice. He doesn't even seem remorseful from her perspective it could really appear that Shidou is taking advantage of Es because they're a child. Something she could view as him doing with his victims before this as well, depending on the knowledge she has.

Which is honestly the same thing she was doing but she dislikes herself as well to an extent. So, that's not saving him at all. On top of that, he's actively stated that he has issues with her repeatedly,

Q.06 Do you forgive Kotoko?

Shidou: No. I can’t forgive someone for trying to achieve things with violence.

Mahiru: 154cm- 5"

Threat level: INCAPACITATED???

We haven't seen her move from Shidou's sight in over a year. Her verdict changed to innocent and we have no implication of her getting better. The funniest shit that could happen is she kills Shidou for being a bad doctor. I don't know if she would and currently her mental health seems to be more of a longstanding issue. But ya know I think she should be allowed to kill in Milgram just a small bit.

I mean I really wish she could-

*the monkey paw curls a finger and she kills Mikoto*

Ah, shit I really need to stop leaving that out! The only prisoner that Mahiru has actually had an issue with is Mikoto. She doesn't seem to get along with him that well and accuses him of being a cheater off rip. On top of that their relationship hasn't seemed to improve any.

Plus, there's that one answer from trial two on Mikoto's end-

Q07. What are your thoughts about Mahiru?

Mikoto: How cruel. To think "I" did something like that, I can't believe it.

So, ah ehh who am I to say... Like that was weird wonder what that was about.

Kazui: 186cm- 6"1

Threat Level: IF MILGRAM WAS AN ALL OUT BRAWL! (Can't be killed by Haruka)

Though if we all work together as Mikoto has recommended to Kotoko- Kazui could get fucked up. Kicking Kazui's ass is a team sport. (Star: A contact sport too! :D) As Kazui said himself if Mikoto and Kotoko worked together he would be fucked.

Who knows, maybe because Mikoto was found innocent this trial by Milgram's own rules, the ones Kotoko claims to respect... Well, maybe she might work with him. And Kazui can still get his ass kicked after all. If not he has blatantly stated that Yuno is bothering him it may not be enough to act on it, but that's really the only complaint he's had, which is kind of odd.

Considering Kotoko jumped people which he did have complaints about too. But really, he's just been relaxing. I don't really know what he might do. It just seems like, at this point, he really is waiting for this to be over.

Amane: 144cm- 4"7

Threat Level: DON'T RUN WITH SCISSORS! (Could be killed by Haruka)

She only wants to kill Shidou. I don't even think she'll really be able to do that, considering there are a lot of interpersonal dynamics at play that we simply aren't completely aware of. Because a lot of the prisoners have been remaining pretty private, including Amane herself. Since she's been having Futa go around for the most part trying to convince others to join her cause.

Now, do I think she definitely couldn't kill Shidou? No. Not really. I think she could do it if she really tried. Like put all her effort into it. Yet she recognizes she would need help.

Amane has not lied about her distaste for Shidou's behavior.

However, Shidou is a man in his thirties at this point. The fact that he was willing to have a longstanding altercation with a middle schooler for any reason makes him someone not worthy of my respect. He can't respect kids, himself, his career, or his loved ones. Nothing will ever make up for the emptiness that fills that man and the worst thing about Amane wanting to kill him in my eyes-

Is the fact that he came in here wanting to be killed by a kid to begin with. I take no satisfaction in the idea that his desire may be granted. He is an irresponsible selfish man-child who would sooner let Amane kill him by jumping on the scissors she had multiple times and call that atonement than actually try to live.

Outside of that, Amane hasn't really threatened anyone else. I don't personally consider the idea of Shidou getting what he wanted from the start an actual threat. Because again, that's what he wanted.

Mikoto: 176cm- 5"7

Threat Level: UNRESTRAINED (Can't be killed by Haruka)

He's unrestrained, still. That is why he was given the restraints he was in within his second voice drama. He doesn't have to play by Milgram's rules, which plays into Kotoko calling his existence a sin during the birthday interaction she had with him.

Because his existence is literally going against Milgram's rules to an extent.

Do I think that's dangerous? No, for various reasons I've given before. If Mikoto or the other one wasn't restrained by Milgram's rules the entire trial and they didn't take that opportunity to hurt anyone here. Then, chances are Mikoto still won't do that even over the course of the intermission.

However, I'm not so optimistic or invested in Mikoto's good image to not admit- That he very easily could have chosen not to do anything during the trial to give himself more credibility. Then continue to excuse anything he does later as being the others personalities fault. It's not likely that this will not work because his second trial hung on the fact that depending on the verdict he received Mikoto (the prisoner brought into Milgram) wouldn't be around anymore if he was voted guilty and things would calm down if he were innocent.

So, simalrly to Mu, he to has a vested interest in not causing any trouble to make that appear to be the case. I can't imagine him doing anything out in the open where everyone could see.

Which brings me to my next point,

Whatever happens during this intermission has been consistently foreshadowed as things that will happen in the open and things that will happen behind closed doors.

Ultimately up to the discretion of the prisoners.

Kotoko: 171cm- 5"6

Threat Level: VIGILANTE THROUGH AND THROUGH

Vigilantes work in the shadows outside of the accepted law of the land.

Kotoko knew how to work discretely before being brought into Milgram. She may have only done the things she did so openly because she was voted innocent from the get-go. Now, she may realize that doing things the way she did was a mistake and she overplayed her hand. That as she implied in her second voice drama and mv people enjoy when others get what they deserve but don't want to feel directly responsible or connected to their downfall in any way. Meaning there's a good chance she'll just do what she did before Milgram and take matters into her own hands.

It wouldn't be anything new for her.

Yet, at the same time, it wouldn't make things easy for her either. That wouldn't be anything new since she's always been the sort to know that the road she chose to walk isn't an easy one and wouldn't make her well liked.

So, I don't really know how much that will deter her now.

Long story short, anyone could do anything at any time. That's just how people are in general. Instead of trying to predict how someone will move if you do x or y people should try to think about what they most want to do themselves instead. At least, that's the easiest way I've found to avoid having regrets.

Now excuse Star and I as we go pass out!

#milgram #amane momose #tw child abuse #tw cults

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askoverlordvox · 2 months

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Lutualverse Update!

Sinners, Winners, and all you caught in between, thanks for tuning in to today's broadcast! We've had a few late breaking developments that have rocked Heaven and Hell that could affect you and your families. However! As ever, VoxTek™ remains committed to bringing you the latest juicy machinations of those being devilish and divine to keep you informed! And on your knees.

First off! It seems Heaven has decided to reclaim one of their rejects as Sera personally came down to Hell to grab Ass, the former Exorcist who's murdered thousands of Sinners! Apparently, the Stubborn Seraph is none-too-pleased with a Fallen Angel sneaking back up to Heaven for a bit of, hold on here, lemme check my notes... cuddling! Yes, folks, that's the big Sin on Heaven's shit list nowadays! Which is why you should stick it to them- and where the sun don't shine- by purchasing from our new line of VoxTek™ Super Glide Lube, from the beloved- and now, happily, defunct- Love Potion series (all rights reserved VokTek™ as of last week).

Next, things have heated up as Lee, everyone's favorite double timing double agent double crossed yet another former consort, opting to cut all ties with Adina, the Venomous Vixen of the Seraphim! With some strong words that she surely won't regret, Lee has returned to Hell one bitch lighter and one terribly Doomsday Prophesy heavier, as two more of Heaven's Rejects are about to visit a whole Ring's worth of pain onto Adina if she fails to provide the information they require- and maybe even then, I'm just sayin'.

Oh, and this just in- it seems Sera, the Beautiful Bitch that she is, has created a whole new breed of angel as a possible replacement for the Exorcists. Sporting gold on white and a big fuck-off sword, this model's name is Shamira, and she's not the chatty sort! Great! Just what she needs- more Murder Angels to order around! Did I already mention the part where Heaven might be retaliating against Hell because someone misplaced a certain jackAss?

As things continue to be very interesting in Heaven, Hell's experiencing a surge of activity as well! Vaggie, the poor bitch, is trying to figure out how to broach a sensitive subject with her girlfriend- the Scary As Fuck When Pissed Charlie Morningstar, so good luck on that one! Meanwhile, the various Overlords are deciding if they're going to throw their weight behind a defense of Hell or hide like the cowards they've always been! But don't let the fear of pissweak Overlords get you down, folks, not when you can order VoxBot 3.5, a new and improved home version of my personal security detail. These bad boys are now equipped with angelic steel propeller blades and have the same lack of self preservation as the rest of you sorry bastards! Order a four pack and we'll add a fifth one for free, just $1,999.69- you won't find a better value for your personal protection, folks! These models have even been tested against Exorcists!

And remember, for a name you can trust, give your soul TO ME.

Stay tuned for our next broadcast, folks.

It's gonna be a doozy.

#ask overlord vox #lutualverse #Vox Has Eyes Everywhere

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xeonetrlight · 24 days

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My Thoughts about Murder Drones Episode 8

Hoo boy this has been a freaking long time coming huh, well hey there, my name is Xeon and I am finally getting to talk about Murder Drones episode 8 it was a freaking doozy because I just never had time to even type this up for the past week and I FINALLY GET TO TALK ABOUT IT!!! So without further ado, lets begin. Positives: So to talk about the positives, can we just give massive applause for the music in this episode, I swear tracks such as "Forever", "....Run" "Call-back ping" and "Bite Me" were all incredible tracks, no scratch that, the whole ost was fantastic. Oh and the animation was just freaking top notch from the fights between Uzi, N and Cyn/Solver or V vs J or the final fight with Cyn and J vs N, V and Uzi, just every fight was brimming with energy. I also loved the small interactions like Nori and Uzi where she encourages Uzi to fight back and reunite with those back at Copper 9 or when Nori just says that "she hates Khan" even though she clearly loves him, lol what a tsundere. Oh i also have to talk about hallway and the "Let me in" scenes, they were so freaking good and god, i was gripping my chair every time i go back to rewatch it. Oh and the ending when N says "That's my girlfriend." made me squeal like a little girl. Negatives: So for the things that I can call out as negative, I have to say that I am kinda disappointed in how Tessa and J ended in the final episode. I just feel awful for Tessa, she was such an interesting character and they could have done so much with her as both a character and a form of plot for N and the other Disassembly drones in the Manor era, and yet all they do is just leave her for dead. Another thing that I am kinda mad about is how J was treated, she had known about what Cyn/Solver had done to Tessa or rather what it planned to do with the solver cores and the planet after another complaint I have is that the rest of the episode felt a bit rushed near the end, I mean in that most of the episode is dedicated to the fight but that just leaves a whole coffin of questions like the origins of the solver, what did the Disassembly Drones do after Earth and even the time skip after the final battle make it feel like they were trying to wrap it up as quick as possible. Conclusion: In the end, I do think that they did a rather fine job with ending this series and honestly, despite some issues I have with this show in its ending, I am genuinely happy to be a part of this fandom and just seeing this series wrap up on a high note. I just adore these drones so freaking much and I am glad to have been along for the ride and I hope you all have a fantastic day.

#murder drones #murder drones n #murder drones uzi #my thougts

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saltygilmores · 2 years

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Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls-Season 2, Epsiode 13 ("A Tisket A Tasket") Part 1 of ???

So this is like, the first heavily Jess-centered episode after his debut back in 2/5. He's kind of been chilling behind the counter at Luke's for 8 episodes. He's been seen, he's been mentioned since he lives rent free in the head of every citizen of Stars Hollow. But here, he has truly arrived, making his debut in one of these shitshow eps that combine Dean, Jess, the DALA (Dean and Lorelai Affair), etc etc. A real fucking doozy. PS: All previous commetary is now linked in my pinned post.

What have we here? Oh, look everyone, it's yet ANOTHER fundraiser/excuse for Taylor Doose to embezzle money from the citizens. All proceeds to go to the retirement home, right. Sure. Where is this mythical retirement home that no one has ever mentioned and has never been seen before? I think he mis spelled "All proceeds line Taylor Doose's pockets."

Pictured below: A senior citizen of Stars Hollow after receiving money raised for the retirement home.

Oh, Lorelai is just STARVING for some Dean Forrester today. She’s foaming at the mouth. Patty: Do you have any change? I don't know where all my quarters go. Lorelai: Down some guy's g-string? Patty: Oh no. A quarter would be insulting. Miss Patty for Prez. On my gritty adult Gilmore Girls Reboot titled The Hollow I would make sure we'd see a scene of Miss Patty at the male strip revue, it would be hilarious.

I've never seen "You". Is this "You"? Is Dean Forrester the guy from "You"?

I've warned you two to stop doing this. Time to resort to drastic measures.

Go and get him Lorelai. This fine specimen is right there waiting for you in the Cheese Ball aisle.

The way Jess Mariano's name rolls off of Dean's tongue with such vitriol, such disgust, the way Jess Mariano clearly lives rent free in Dean Forrester's otherwise empty little head 24/7, it gives me tremendous joy. Jess' jacket may as well be the equivalent of a cold blast from a garden hose. It's so ugly that it will put a damper on even the most passionate makeouts (of which Rory and Dean's was not) because you must stop whatever you’re doing and gaze upon it, to wonder what rock-bottom of a church donation bin his mother scraped that thing from, or maybe he took it from one of Liz's lousy husbands who left it behind. I'm telling you, that in my opinion, this is the ugliest man's coat to ever exist, and the other thing that makes it so ugly is that it's way too big on Milo's tiny frame. He's drowning in it. Where was I? *ugly coat ugly coat ugly coat* Uhh, let's get back to it...

Does anyone else think about the fact that Gilmore Girls (2000) was the last time anyone would see Milo with even a single curl in his hair? He had jumped to Peter Petrelli hair by S6 and never looked back.

RENT-FREE. Someone: Can you sum up the relationship between Jess & Dean in 15 words or less? Me: I Gotchu fam.

Rory Giving Dean Completely Sensible Advice: I wish you two could get along. He lives here. You run into him. He goes to school with you. It's a waste of energy to fight with him. Dean:

Alexis Bledel's acting can be pretty wooden, but her "Rory is fucking sick of Dean or Tristan's shit" facial reactions are priceless.

I wrote a Haiku: His ugly brown coat Ugly coat you are so brown Vomit colored brown.

For anyone keeping score, Rory has been snuck up on from behind and frightened by two different people in the span of only a few minutes. Give my girl a break.

Rory: "Dis guy.... sigh." And now for some other Goings On in this episode: Lane has yet another insane and convoluted plan to meet with Henry behind her mother's back, involving her male cousin and using the Line Taylor Doose's Pockets Auction as a cover. If she has to go through all of this to hide a nice Korean boy like Henry (and later, Dave Rygalski, the Best Boyfriend On Tv) from her mother, it once again makes me yearn to see Lane and Jess date openly if for nothing else but to give Mrs. Kim chest pains. This will happen on my adult Gilmore Girls reboot titled The Hollow. Lane: Mom, I had sex with Jess Mariano. Oh and I might be pregnant. Mrs Kim: Evaporates into the ether, ascending to the heavens to meet Jesus. Jackson wants Sookie to move in with him, but she's not getting the hint. Miss Patty thinks Lorelai needs to get laid and has taken it up on herself to try to remedy that, much to Lorelai's annoyance, but Patty is obviously blind to the fact that Lorelai Gilmore waits for only one man.

For anyone keeping score, Rory has been snuck up on from behind and frightened by two three different people in the span of only a few minutes.

Stars Hollow video can be seen in the background in this scene, so I withdraw my take that it was never seen again after the previous episode.

Perhaps there was some deeper meaning, a metaphor of some kind, something AmyShermanPalladino was trying to say, with these repeated references to people being shoved into closets against their will. The bidding wars have begun.

I had to listen to Milo Ventimiglia talk about being Team Dean again this week (we all know he's really just Team Jared) and he said Dean was "A sweet hometown boy" and obviously he doesn't remember this show at all if he thinks that, and he would probably be pretty upset with me if I said I wanted to smack that stupid smug grin off of Jared Padalecki's face right now. Jess, I will give you $1,000 if you burn this coat and I'm allowed to watch it go up in flames. Glorious, glorious flames.

Are we talking about Dean Forrester's weiner here?

Does anyone else wonder where Jess gets $90 of easily disposable income from? Not like he can make that in the short time he's been working at Luke's since his uncle is probably paying him sub minimum wage and no one in Stars Hollow pays for their food or tips their servers.

Just a baby! Just a little guy, in an ugly brown coat!

When his lips get real thin you know he's mad. Guy behind him in the black coat is like ha, you putz, you almost spent $80 on a basket for a girl who won't even put out until you're already married to someone else.

Kiss my ass, Doose.

Okay, that was just the first TEN minutes of the 42 minute episode. We may have a 4-parter on our hands, people. Be patient for the next chapter.

#gilmore girls #lorelai gilmore #rory gilmore #jess mariano #milo ventimiglia #literati #denise rewatches gilmore girls #gilmore girls season 2 #a tisket a tasket #a-tisket a-tasket #anti dean forrester #dean forrester can stumble face first into an active volcano #virgin sacrifice #ugly brown coat #ugly coats

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writing-frenzy · 5 months

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Here come SI off the rails :D

Brain worms have arrived and shored up some of my remaining will to dream once more :D

And of course it dreams up a way to maybe, maybe give our favorite traumatized imaginary shield character a reason to actually smile and mean it. (Maybe?)

And of course, I forever fell in love with the SI OC trope, soooo weeeeee, buckle up everyone and thing, this one is gonna be a doozy.

First off, our SI boy was playing HSR, trying out a full imaginary team comp of Luocha, Walt, Aventurine, and Yukong when sudden, traumatizing death. It is not pretty, it is horrible, it is scaring, and it literally almost breaks our poor mc's mind; how can they not ask, beg for someone, anyone to save them?

It's a good thing (or is it) that something does.

Whether it is Aha on some sort of new kick, a manipulation of destiny, or even a certain Mother Goddess at work, our poor soul gets taken into a new world; but not as they were. Their mind and body were too broken when they were transferred, so the being had to get creative.

So, they took some inspiration from the team they were playing in their most recent memories, taking from doomed versions of themselves who were willing to trade for their own wishes in turn (and oh, how many were doomed in all the paths; there would always be one with a simple wish to fulfil easily.)

So, the MC becomes a meshed form of the Imaginary team of Luocha, Welt, Yukong and Aventurine: he is a good height, about 5-9, not six foot because Aventurine and Yukong are shorter taking it down a bit. He has Welt's brown hair, but it seems to be a bit messy and longer, what with all the hair styles, which he has to braid to keep in order and less annoying. And for all he seems human, he actually does have Foxian ears and tail, along with most of the bloodline perks, but hides it with illusions and tricks for reasons. His skins is tanner and kissed beautifuly by the sun, and his eyes are really cool, being a mixture of Aventurine's shape and style, but with the other three's colors. he also looks late 20's/early 30's just imagine him with welt's eye lines because the character maker doesn't have that. (The glasses are there for reasons and this is him illusioned because the ears were just not meshing for me.)

As for the eyes, I tried my best TT^TT (headcannon that most Avgin's eyes are usually in shades of brown to gold, with rarer shades of darker purples and even green at times, going with how Avgin means Honey and all, so with Kakavasha being born with not only bright beautiful eyes, it also has blue in them like water? and it rains? yeah, no wonder they thought he was blessed.)

But yeah, with his appearance over, now we get an interesting little bit about him; his path is Remembrance :D how? he has no clue, only that his memories are pretty shitty now, he knows random ass stuff (gifts from the other four; my guy know so many loopholes now for the IPC) he instinctively knows how to use his powers, just has to practice with control, but what was his favorite food? his dream in life? his actual name? nadda, zilch. He does know his power is literally a mixture of all four of his Imaginary team, allowing his skill to produce shields that also buff and/or heal his allies, with them disappearing can either randomly heal, buff, or do nothing before they go. His Ult is a mixture of Luocha's, Yukongs, and Welt's, doing incredible damage while also debuffing his enemies to hell and back, and even letting his team heal like with Luocha's. This doesn't even count in the terrifying follow up attack, that randomly does whatever the fuck it wants to :D tiny black holes to devour enemies? shower of golden rain that heals allies by draining the enemy's own life? this is only scratching the surface~

Yup, our boi is a OP beast :3

Did I forget to mention he came to this world with half the damage he got from his death? So it's very lucky where he ended up; a few years before the Avgin's genocide, luckily found by the tribe where they took him in, who while hesitant about the stranger, couldn't turn him away, then felt well they didn't when they finally opened their eyes to see they were one of them. Even if he's of mixed blood, he is still one of their own and came back to them, even as harmed and damaged as he is.

Not to mention just how talented and powerful he is.-

The wise woman watches, with her guard, as the stranger to their ways learns with an appetite like starving dog, so keen and willing to continue struggling on even with the barest of scraps. It is a kin to someone struggling with quicksand, finally finding some leverage that can save them from demise just in time, light entering those eyes once more. But like a beaten dog, they shy from most touch, hesitant and still, eyes watchful as they take in all threats to their self before they settle into a long wait, ready to attack.

It makes it both tragic and amazing, seeing someone so strong, someone she has seen break rock and stone with but a thought, so obviously broken, but willing still to heal. She knows her guard would like for this stranger to become part of the guard, to let others know of his strength so that they can better themselves and their people.

But the wise woman did not live so long to be wise as she was with simple thoughts and hopes like those; she saw signs everywhere, she has read omens in the sands and wind, reads the bones with ease; besides a select few, no one knows of their stanger's talents.

She names him Sarth, for his always thoughtful ways (and to hide within sight, just that for all his power, it is his mind most terrifying of all.)

(He was found under the stars for protection and warning, waking only when the stars for secrets was high in the sky. She sees how gentle, ever so kind their stranger is for the children, and she makes her decision.

She finds she will never regret it, traitors in their mist, the men in the black uniforms abandoning them, telling their stranger to please, please, if nothing else, save their children and ill away from this mess. If nothing else, she knows that at least the 452 with him will live.)

-so yeah, I have feels about those still being missing being 3,452 people; i just yoinked a chunk for myself, my guy Sarth covering everyone with his ridiculous powers, stealing a ship he found (interestingly, it was an illegal drug merchant who was currently being killed, so it would be a long, looooong time before someone notices one missing ship that was destined to be scraped because of damages and age over the years.) My guy is desperate, knowing of the discrimination they will face from practically everyone in the universe, not knowing who to ask or even if there is anyone willing to aid them; the IPC is shady as heck, he doesn't think Himeko has fixed the express yet, and their ship is running on luck, prayers, and Yukong's memories and knowledge of flying through even worse with even more tragic of conditions.

Sarth could really, really use a break right now; everyone with him at that.

Then in walk some Fools; Sarth somehow not only impresses them, he even tricks them, getting one fool, who goes by as Tricky Trickster, delighted (because what's more delightful then tricking others? Himself getting tricked in new and innovating ways. After all, how else could one learn to better themselves?)

So, my guy is able to enter in a game of high stakes with the Fools; he has 6 chances to win his people the chance to live well, with food in their bellies, chances for education, no worries of threats, the complete secrecy of their survival, all that good chance... here is the thing; he has to win at least four games, because the hightest amount of people that can be saved per game is 113 people, so yeah, four games would equal the 113 peeps. (he doesn't count himself; he can at least get along in this universe, he has power and tricks on his side, he can do what must be done; all these sick, injured, or too young? they can't.)

So he plays the games, winning two at first, getting 226 from there... only to lose the third game; what he loses is decided by random on a wheel, with him in the end nearly ending up practically blind, his eyes basically just for decoration now... he almost loses the fourth, but by chance actually wins, getting another 113 people. but this luck doesn't hold by the fifth game, this time he loses 20 years of freedom, to begin after the games are done and to serve in the Tavern. the last game is done with bated breath, the last 113 people's lives hanging by a thread, when MC pulls off yet another miracle; he uses the memories of harmony and abundance, sealing with preservation to gain back what little sight he can to win the game, saving all 452 people that came with him. there is much tears, crying, sobbing and mourning because once more something is taken from the Avgins but they persevere, many promising that they will do what they can for him in turn.

(In the end, they find an interesting item, one that can channel things with multiple paths and contain it, shaping to whatever the owner needs. Those are now shaped into glasses for Sarth to wear so he can see, only able to be removed by himself. it doesn't feel like much to the Avgins, it feels paltry for all he has done for them, but Sarth loves and adores anything he gets from them, to the honestly little mudpies from the kids to even the gems others offer; his favorite is the company they offer.)

So yeah, in my head, when the Trailblazer enters the planet of Festivities, my guy is near the very end of his service term, with maybe a year or two left.

This is so far what I have for him, but I must say; he gives off Dilf energy like hard core and the thirst for him is real :D

#honkai star rail #HSR #Honkai star rail oc #Hsr oc #HSR Avgin #hsr spoilers #its lore spoilers and background but still spoilers

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tinyozlion · 1 year

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TinyOZlion's GW Episode Guide for People Who Aren't Gundam People: Episode 01 - “The Shooting Star She Saw”

ᕕ( ᐛ)ᕗ OH boy oh BOY! It's time for PGW's first episode analysis! Let’s get started!

First let me pop in my 20 year old VHS tapes! ...Wait, I can’t. I don’t have a VCR player anymore, huh. Well, okay, let me just pop in these 20 year old DVDs! ...Nope, I can’t, computers stopped having disc drives in them. So... I guess. Uh.

Okay. Listen. Hear me out: I’ve bought this entire series on TWO redundant formats already. I’ve bought every manga. I’ve bought posters. I’ve bought model kits, I’ve bought figurines, I’ve bought toys.

I HAVE PAID MY DUES TO YOU, BANDAI! NO MORE!!

–80 minutes and 2 seeders later–

Wow, so this is the Blu-Ray edition huh? Let’s check it out, how different could it bbbvvhOLY SHIT

It’s so…… crisp.

This feels intimate. I shouldn’t be seeing the Gundams like this. They’re… they’re so… clean. I don’t recognize any of these people without the artifacting, the scan lines, the VHS blur.

I can see all the cel jitter??

No… NO! This is wrong. This is DISRESPECTFUL.

God never intended 90’s anime to be viewed at 1080p! It wasn’t DRAWN in 1080p!

And yet… the color quality… that seductive line definition …

Fine, The Crispness, you win. I’ll watch my anime in high definition, but I WILL NEVER FORGET MY ROOTS!!!!!!

...Actually fuck that, this is gorgeous and I’m never going back. If I ever have a few hundred bucks burning a hole in my pocket I guess I’ll just buy it AGAIN. To be responsible.

OKAY. Now we can start.

Note!: While this Episode Analysis is sort of 1/2 walkthrough for new viewers and 1/2 refresher + commentary for returning Wing fans, what it ISN'T intended to be is a full episode summary (for really good episode summaries, you can go here!) However, I am going to be going over this particular episode with a fine tooth comb, because episode 01 is by far the worst offender of the series. It’s got it all: bizarrely worded dialogue, mistranslations, delivering a bunch of new information to us by taking it out of the fridge and pouring it directly down the back of our shirts... Later in the series I will be grouping episodes together to cover more ground, but this one is a doozy, so it’s getting its own solo entry. Get ready: The pacing of this first episode is BONKERS. Things are going to move very fast, and a lot of new concepts are going to be dropped in quick succession.

*Ahem*

With high expectations human beings leave earth to begin a new life in Space Colonies. HOWEVER– (the way Optimus-Narrator says “However” lives in my brain as a permanent sound bite) the United Earth Sphere Alliance gains great military powers, and soon seizes control of one colony after another– in the name of “justice” and “peace”. The year is After Colony 195– Operation Meteor: in a move to counter the Alliance’s tyranny, rebel citizens of certain colonies scheme to bring new arsenals to the Earth, disguising them as shooting stars. HOWEVER– the Alliance headquarters catches on to this operation...

This intro is actually very succinct, clear, and to the point– IF you already know what to expect from this genre. (In my section on the history of Gundam in Japan and North America, I talked about how Wing's opening exposition was written based on the assumption that everybody watching would already be familiar with the basics of the Gundam franchise, so all that needed to be explained for Wing was what was departing from the original.)

--The main takeaway from the exposition is that A) There are Space Colonies, B) The earth is oppressing them via its military, using big robots to terrorize the small squishy people living in the space hamster wheels; and C) during something called “Operation Meteor”, an unspecified resistance group from the colonies sent secret weapons to earth.

Earth Big Military Bad, Space Colonies Oppressed, Space Colonies Send Five Mystery Weapons To Earth To Do Something About It. Okay we’re all caught up.

--Oh, what are the big robots? They haven’t been introduced yet– presumably because every single person watching this Gundam show already knows what Mobile Suits are, and knows that a Gundam is a big, special Mobile Suit, right? Unless you’re me, and nine years old, and watching it for the first time in America in the year 2000 AD. So just in case you're me from then and I'm me from now, let me clarify: the big robots are called “Mobile Suits” and this is a show about them. They aren’t Transformers, they need a person inside to make them go.

Let’s meet some of them, shall we?

--In this really very pretty opening sequence, we are shown the five mysterious capsules shooting down to the big blue marble that is earth. Fun science note: compare these to the Apollo command modules, and other vehicles designed for reentry!

--We cut to an Alliance surveillance satellite. The crew has picked up the Secret Colony Weapon Gashapons on their radar, but have no idea what they are. It’s probably just space debris, but just in case it’s Something Bad, they decide to let the closest available military person know about it, so someone with guns can deal with it.

--It is indeed Something Bad, and the military person they tell about it already KNOWS it’s bad, because he’s a main character and his name is Zechs Merquise. He’s the handsome fellow wearing a strange helmet/mask.

He is immediately dismissive of the Alliance satellite crew, because to him it’s obvious that space debris wouldn’t “ride the wave course to earth”. I have tried my best to identify what a “wave course” is, to no avail. I’m assuming that here it means a standard or safe path for reentry vehicles to take.

(EDIT: It turns out "wave riding" is a thing from Zeta Gundam! It is indeed a procedure mobile suits use to "surf" with a heat-shielded device for safe atmospheric reentry! Now we know!)

--As alluded to by the Narrator, the Alliance (or at least, this particular and very significant group of people currently associated with the Alliance) does in fact know something about Operation Meteor (or “M”). They being to close the gap on the one capsule out of five that they can catch up with.

–And here’s our first round of confusing dialogue! Goodie!:

Zechs: “One would do just dandy. A hired front line soldier mustn’t rush to battle.” Soft-Spoken Zechs Groupie Who Doesn’t Get A Name So I Will Call Him “Milo”: “That’s quite the bold statement, sir.” Zechs, chuckling: “I told you. I am a True Soldier.”

–Now, what the fuck does any of that entail. Allow me to explain:

Firstly: Zechs indicates that catching up with only one capsule is fine (or “dandy”), because Zechs suspects this encounter will lead to combat of some sort, so even if it WAS possible to catch up with more than one capsule, it would be risky to engage multiple targets of unknown abilities. “A hired soldier” would be especially unwise to do so, because they’re not fighting for anything particularly meaningful– they’re just there to do a job, and why be in a hurry to die for your salary?

--This is our first introduction to Zech’s ethos on fighting and what it means to be a soldier, or “True Soldier”. This is also our first introduction to one of Gundam Wing’s Big Important Vocabulary Terms! Which you can find explained in detail in the Dictionary Section.

Unfortunately for us, “Soldier” and “True Soldier” will sometimes be used interchangeably, but they mean very different things.

Zechs is a man deeply concerned with chivalry, honor, and purpose– the morality and aesthetics of combat. A “soldier” might be someone paid to fight, enlisted with no particular goals, or deployed on a mission that doesn’t involve them– but a “TRUE Soldier” is someone fighting to prove something, to advance their goals, to test their own limits in battle with a worthy opponent, to discover something about themselves in the process of fighting.

Soldier-I’ve-Named-Milo gives him a Look™ and says “that’s bold of you sir” because Zechs is most certainly not a hired soldier-- as we'll soon learn, he's OZ's ace pilot (more on OZ later), known for his exceptionally fast reflexes and high speed MS combat, which has earned him the moniker "Lighting Count". So while he isn't actually the type to jump into things before understanding what’s going on-- unlike some other people we're about to meet in this episode-- not rushing in combat isn't really what he's famous for.

Also, he’s being kind of a prick! Calling everyone else hired guns and then doubling down by reminding them that HE is a True Soldier?? Yikes!

...Or at least, that’s how the scene reads in English.

First-Episode-Zechs is really laying it on thick for us. And if you’ll take a quick peek behind the curtain with me: Zechs isn’t written this way past this episode. Or really, past this HALF of the episode.

But, if one is looking for an in-character explanation for this dialogue as it stands, it’s possible that First-Episode-Zechs is a glimpse into what a cocksure ace pilot raised on Treize’s idealism (more on that later) is like, right at the peak of his so-far spotless career, and in the last moments he’ll be able to afford this kind of unbridled arrogance before the world conspires to humble him.

Honestly, that would be in keeping with the way ALL the characters are depicted in these early episodes: each naive or overconfident in their own way, not yet having been forced to challenge their ideals.

–But! this might also just be one of many localization fumbles. A fan translation of this scene indicates that what Zechs might actually be trying to say here is more like:

“No need to chase after more work than we signed up for, we’re all just grunts on the front lines together after all”

and Soldier-I’ve-Named-Milo is therefore responding to him more like:

“That’s a bit cheeky of you to say, Mr. Best-Friends-With-The-Colonel Ace Pilot The Lighting Count Merquise.”

(...I’ve lamented this before but it’s DAMN HARD to find alternate translations of GW's script, and I'm limited by being a feeble monolingual English speaker. If you’re reading this and have more expertise than I do on this matter and want to share your insights / sources, please know that I'd sign over my soul to see them.)

–On a side note, I love how super crunchy Zechs’ voice is in this first episode. As one astute comment I read once suggested: you can tell Brian Drummond was coming down from playing Vegeta. He still had some of that ol’ Saiyan phlegm in him.

– And now for a brief interlude from our scifi high-politicking to witness some relatable familial drama!

I appreciate this contrast! The important takeaway from this scene is that Relena is the daughter of Vice Foreign Minister Darlian, an important dignitary who mediates between the Earth Sphere Alliance and the Space Colonies. They’re on their way home from one of his frequent business trips to space.

A vague spoiler, but I find it bittersweet how Zechs is unaware that Relena is on the shuttle about to be caught in the crossfire, and by showing up, he is saving her life.

OMG IT’S HAPPENING. IT’S HERE. IT’S TIME TO TALK ABOUT THE “BATTLE SEED”:

Zechs: “So that’s their little battle seed, all ready to sprout into new battles.” Soldier-I’ve-Named-Milo: “Ha. Operation M.”

--I get the feeling that Milo is used to Zechs-isms by now and is just like “Oh lieutenant, you kidder,” whenever he says some wild allegorical shit he just made up.

Anyway, here’s the thing about “battle seed”– this is obviously an idiom that we've done poor service to. But in the original, it’s apparently “Battle EGG”, or perhaps, “EGG OF WAR”. Does that help? No? Well that’s all I’ve got for you. Sorry.

Soldier-I’ve-Named-Milo: “It moves just like a bird…”

Aw, Soldier-I’ve-Named-Milo, you’re so cute when you talk about the enemy death machine. Of course it moves like a bird, it hatched out of a Battle Egg!

Soldier-I’ve-Named-Milo: “Let’s wake him up with our machine gun!” Zechs: “No. No machine gun for him– Shoot him down!” Otto: “But, Lt. Zechs…!” Zechs: “We were told the purpose of this operation was to bring in the weapon, but it’s not the weapon, (the real target) is the fighter pilot inside!”

Now, I know “don’t shoot him with the gun, shoot him DOWN with the gun” sounds stupid, but really he’s just saying “No warning shots.”

Whatever kind of new technology they’re up against, strafing it with a machine gun would be like hitting it with spitballs. What they need to do is get the enemy craft out of the air and capture the pilot, and the carrier ship’s machine guns just aren’t going to cut it. --Which is why Zechs is about to hop out and try and fuck it up with a Mobile Suit.

Fucking things up with a Mobile Suit is what Zechses like best.

--It is worth noting that Zechs immediately clocked the pilot as the most dangerous and valuable part of the enemy operation (because of course! Pilots are warriors, and warriors have honor, and a warrior’s honor is proof of humanity’s worth). Mind you, this is moments BEFORE they see the actual Gundam, but nevertheless, this is a significant value statement that will be important throughout the series: It’s the people that matter. It’s always the people that matter. The weapons are secondary. Even if superior technology grants someone an edge in battle, a weak person behind the controls will always betray themselves.

This is partly why Zechs doesn’t use the Aries MS that’s designed for flight, despite this being aerial combat; he goes in his preferred Leo suit, which is your bog-standard humanoid canon fodder Mobile Suit used as ground troops. This seems like a suboptimal choice, but Zechs lives by the idea that a good pilot can overcome the limitations of their machine.

And this is put to the test literally the instant he drops.

–The unfortunate aspect of this scene happening in Episode 01 is that the viewer will have no context yet for exactly how absolutely, impossibly, ludicrously impressive this stunt is. Zechs not only isn’t dead after this, but he manages to fuck up a Gundam using a Leo, which is testament to exactly how much of badass this guy is.

Oh hey speaking of which check it out, it’s a Gundam.

–Two of Zech’s backup squad are instantly blown away in one shot from the Wing Gundam. This is barely commented on, and I think that’s one of the bigger mistakes of this episode. Those two guys aren’t named, and Zechs’ only remark is that it's "not too shabby" / "unbelievable". Considering how much the death of his subordinates weighs on him later, this seems remarkably flippant.

Soldier-I’ve-Named-Milo: “Are you alright?” Zechs: “Yeah. Sorry to worry you. I did everything I could.”

See? That’s the kind of rapport Zechs and his subordinates usually have; they keep it professional, but the people who work with Zechs respect him immensely, and as their officer he tries to do right by them.

Zechs: “There’s no bright future for soldiers scurrying for their reward.”

This is a fancy-pants way of expressing disdain for the Alliance sailors who weren’t involved in the fight, but were more than happy to claim the spoils. In the fan translation of this episode he literally says “tell them the treasure sunk at these coordinates”. To him, these are just pirates after loot, not True Soldiers.

___

We just talked about Zechs for a long time. Now let’s talk about Heero Yuy.

Unfortunately for our first Gundam pilot, he took a long, precarious, silent shuttle ride all the way to earth only to be discovered immediately by the Alliance military. He fails to shoot down the civilian carrier that's seen him, and then he fails to shoot down the OZ mobile suit carrier ("Wait" I hear you say, "OZ mobile suit carrier? What's OZ? Aren't Zechs & co. from the Alliance?" Aha! Sharp-eared listener, you miss nothing! Have no fear, we will discuss OZ shortly).

Heero barely has time to dry out the wings of his Wing Gundam before he’s blindsided by OZ’s ace pilot and crashing his infinitely valuable Mobile Suit into the ocean. He makes it out alive by the skin of his teeth.

Not a great first day on the job for our boy Heero! Bad luck meeting Zechs Merquise first thing upon entering earth’s orbit.

But a surprise encounter with OZ's top pilot notwithstanding, this... probably could have gone better, right? Why would our first introduced Gundam pilot be so cavalier about crashing and burning the second he makes it to his destination? Why would he recklessly reveal his Gundam and pick a fight on a stealth mission? And what’s with this giddy energy he’s got after making a fresh kill? Heero isn't exactly a cheerful guy; he only seems to laugh when he's exhilarated about having gotten away with something. This is one of those times, and it is his very most unhinged cackle. Finally, he gets to DO something. Feels good. Feels right.

...It’s almost like this boy has zero sense of self preservation and no investment in his future; shooting down enemies for him is a game with no stakes.

–For the returning Wing viewer: if you're familiar the gist of Operation Meteor, remember that it would have been slated to happen directly before the series started; that’s when all the Gundam pilots (at the urging of their Doctors) independently decided to steal their Gundams and ignore the original premise. So Heero just recently made off like a bandit with the Wing Gundam. He stole that motherfucker right out the display case. His primary objective at the moment isn't primarily to take down OZ and the Alliance (though that's obviously the long-term goal), it's to make sure the Barton Foundation DOESN’T get the Gundam. So really, getting shot down immediately upon arriving on earth isn't the worst thing that could happen. Heero smiles when he finally sees the earth because it means maybe this will be over soon. Mission accomplished. Now all he has to do is die! :)

___

Relena Darlain’s father is a very important, very busy man who never has any time to spare for his daughter, even on her birthday, and in this telenovela of her own life, she’s going to graciously pretend like this doesn’t bother her and make her strong, independent, teenage girl way home on foot, narrating her predicament out loud along the way. She’s the main character, after all, the center of the world. Her troubles are the only troubles that are real.

*Record scratch*

Lying there on the beach is someone who is actually in trouble. She’s the only one here. She HAS to help.

___

–Alright, okay. I see what you did there, Wing.

--The gentleman in Napoleonic cosplay is Treize Khushrenada. He is a Major General (for now) in the Alliance military (for now), and his eyebrows are so big because they are full of secrets.

He and Zechs are best buddies forever and ever, they have matching charm bracelets, and they can finish each other's sandwiches. Whenever these two are on screen together I am going to have to decipher every. single. word. because Treize and Zechs are ALREADY cryptic bastards, and when they're together they talk in friend-speak where only half of what they're communicating actually gets said.

Just this once, as a treat, they are having a fairly intelligible conversation. First one's free.

...But really Treize, taking a call DURING the performance? Bad form old chap, bad form.

SIDE NOTE: Based on the teeny tiny figures, this could maybe be Petrushka? And I desperately want this to be Petrushka because:

It means Treize has good taste

Petrushkranada

–To put this conversation in perspective: Gundanium is a very sophisticated type of semi-metallic ceramic-like compound that can only be refined correctly in outer space. Think of it as something you’d have to spend all your faculty funding on to buy a gram of for your science department. Suddenly, someone rolls up with a six-story building made out of the stuff. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” is the only appropriate response.

Treize: "Something like this never would have happened if you and I had been in OZ 15 years ago; that much is for certain."

--If I may humbly direct your attention to my Policy of Ignoring Stupid Shit, this one of the many reasons why we are going to glance at Zechs and Treize's canonical ages, do the math, realize that 15 years ago, Treize and Zechs would have been 9 and 4 years old respectively, and then we are going to gently slide those numbers into the garbage and crank them both up to a respectable adult age in our minds.

--OH RIGHT! OZ!! Remember, we were going to talk about OZ? Well, Treize is going to tell us about it here in a minute, I'm going to tell you about it now, because we need to know what OZ is in brief before we can make sense of this exchange:

OZ is a secret paramilitary organization hiding inside the official Earth Sphere Alliance military. As an organization, it's responsible for a great deal of clandestine political skullduggery and foul play that has left the Colonies and Earth in a state of easily-manipulated perpetual turmoil. OZ has been around for a while-- that's because its even MORE clandestine and sinister parent organization is even older. In its current incarnation, OZ is hiding out inside the elite mobile suit division called the "Specials", which Treize commands. In addition to being the Special's commander, he personally trained many of its top members when he was serving as an instructor at the Lake Victoria Military Academy. Zechs, and a number of other important characters we'll meet, all graduated from this academy under Treize's tutelage, and now serve him as elite mobile suit pilots in the Specials. Which is OZ. Which is the even more shadowy and sinister organization beneath that. It's a turducken of villainy.

What makes the Specials / OZ noteworthy in the ranks of the Alliance is that they are given free reign to act on their own initiative in combat. They don't answer to the Alliance military, they answer to Treize. This pisses a significant number of significant people off.

Treize pisses a significant number of significant people off. He's under the age of 65, which makes him an infant in the ranks of the brass. He's got elusive, powerful aristocratic backing that makes him untouchable. His followers are fanatically, and I mean FANATICALLY loyal to him. And he has the absolute chutzpah to be really good at everything he does. GOD he's the worst. His eyebrows are insured for $10,000.

--When Treize is lamenting that he and Zechs weren't in OZ fifteen years ago, he is referring to a very, very important sequence of events that began around AC 180 (give or take, if you're following my advice about stretching the timeline); events that brought the Earth and the Colonies within an arm's reach of unification and peace, only to be catastrophically and violently ripped apart, to the detriment of both.

(This is a very important date for Zechs, in particular. It's a very important date for the Gundams as well.)

Treize is making the point that if he and Zechs had been in charge back in the day, well, all this revolutionary sentiment wouldn't be necessary. We would have handled that mess far more sensibly, wouldn't we, Bestie?

-- Zechs has already absorbed this subtext and skips ahead to say "Gundams are on earth." Emphasizing that yes, shit really is popping off. The thing we heard scary bedtime stories about is real and it's happening and we get to be the ones to deal with it. Exciting times we're living in.

Treize: "I'm sure you're aware, but this is an important period. Do not do anything to anger the Alliance." Zechs, smirking: "I fully understand."

The Gundams aren't the only scary thing under the Alliance's bed. Lots of volatile elements are about to collide, all at once, very soon. Treize is just giving Zechs a wink and a nudge-- hey, I know you already know that big things are afoot, I trust you not to rock the boat too early.

--Oh! For the record, OZ stands for Organization of the Zodiac. You may have noticed that the two standard Mobile Suits we've been introduced to so far were called "Aries" and "Leo". OZ is inseparable from the history of Mobile Suit development, and all of its MS are therefore constellation-themed. ...But it's also just straight up a reference to "The Wizard of OZ", because OZ's signature mascot is--

--A LIIIIOOON!!!

...Yes! Thank you Tinylion, now we know why you're here. Back in your teapot now, sweetie. There you go.

--It's a lion, and the insignia for the OZ space corps is the Tin Man. The series lead scriptwriter Sumisawa loves him a book & film reference, you will find them all over Wing.

___

–Gosh, Treize is so SASSY in this episode. Look at this delinquent, showing up late for War Class because he was at a concert and on the phone with his boyfriend. Here he is giving lip to his supervisors, answering questions with totally undisguised disdain. He can’t keep getting away with it. He’s a naughty, naughty boy. Someone should teach him a lesson.

–God yes, General Septem. Fuck yes. The best worst voice acting in the show. Iconic. Immortal. Powerful. Showstopping. Brave. Go off, Nappa.

-VALUABLE KHAMBET RESAWRSEZ

–Treize is sitting at the war table like a fox in a chicken coop, biding his time and thinking: “I don’t owe these complacent, arrogant fools answers for anything. They haven’t left their desks in decades. They’ve never seen the cost of human life first hand. In the depths of their ignorance they think they’re the ones who can steer the course of the future. Hilarious. Thank god for Me.”

MEANWHILE: Relena is still on the beach trying to figure out what to do with this sick feral cat she found.

The TNR crew finally shows up with a kitty crate but the cat wakes up and tries to chew its own head off in self-defense. Having failed to die, it bites everyone, hijacks their car, and gets the fuck out of Dodge.

“Ma’am have you had all your shots?”

Relena is not listening. Relena is introducing herself to the Heero-shaped dust cloud that’s still lingering in the air, because what the fuck else are you gonna do.

Oh hey look it’s more Gundams!

The Gashapons of War have touched down in different parts of the world and set to work wreaking havoc immediately.

Unbeknownst to the Alliance or OZ, any appearance of coordination between the Gundams is an accident– none of them have any idea there are other Gundams besides their own.

They’re all in the same position as Heero: they refused the original premise of Operation Meteor and now they’re on borrowed time fighting whatever enemies come up on their radar. Each of them thinks they’re in this alone (except for Quatre, who has groupies).

However, just because the pilots aren’t coordinated doesn’t mean the mysterious people giving them orders are. But we'll learn more about that later.

--- Let's meet the rest of the Gundam boys!

–Duo: LEEEEROOOOY JENKINS we only get old memes in the colonies –Trowa: New phone, new name, new Gundam, who may I ask is calling –Wufei: Stealth missions are for casuals who can’t fight their way out of impossible odds. Skill issue. –Quatre: I am literally begging you to not fuck around so I don’t have to make you find out.

Speaking of Quatre: Hey! If this were a different series with a mature audience rating, this scene would be unmentionably gruesome!

___

-Awww, Soldier-I’ve-Named-Milo is bad at math! He’s just like me for real. Anyway, there are (4 + 1 = 5)....Five. Five Gundams total.

-Zechs correctly makes the assessment that the game has just changed, and it’s about to get extremely serious very quickly.

___

And now, the moment we’ve all been waiting for:

Spicy feral kitten arrives at Relena’s school. Relena is more confused than ever, but now this is officially a Mystery. She likes mysteries. She likes Mystery Boy. He’s the perfect foil for her, the main character, in this YA novel that she is the protagonist of.

Feral Mystery Boy suddenly makes it 100% publicly clear that he has no interest in playing nice, or in playing at all. Mystery Boy leans in real close, and says a thing that you might hear from, say, a guy in a black suit you accidentally witnessed murdering someone in a back alley, who then followed you to school.

The telenovela of Relena’s life is hitting its mid-season dark plot-twist, and

She.

Loving.

It.

Tune in next week for Episodes 2 - 3!

~TinyOzLion, out.

#Parsing Post #Gundam Wing #Gundam Wing Meta #Gundam Meta #Gundam Wing Episode Guide #Episode Analysis #tinyozlion pgw

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daresplaining · 2 years

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Butch: "Wait...you're telling me it was actually Matt?" Matt: "Yeah...it was Matt. He came back from rehab, went to his apartment... I don't know what the #$@% Fisk was thinking, but I know they've got history and... Ah, Butch. He killed my brother." Butch: "I'm sorry, Mike. I really am. But I'm so #$@% glad it wasn't you. I thought...I thought I sent you away, right into my Dad's hands." Matt (caption): "[...]I've done this before. Back in the day." Butch: "[...]I'm sorry, Mike. I really am. All I can do now is be better than I have been. I know you weren't...happy about some of my decisions lately, but I want you to know..." Matt (caption): "The trick was always in the eyes. Not just making sure they faced the right direction...but that no matter what, he had kindness in them..." Butch: "...I'm going to be better. No more killing. I don't want to be him. I want to run this city with fairness, with compassion." Matt (caption): "...and I don't." Matt: "You better." Butch: "I...what? Look, you're my partner here, and I know you're grieving, but maybe take it down a--" Matt: "Let me make it clear for you. If you hurt people, if you commit violence and terrorize others...I'll come stop you." Daredevil vol. 7 #1 by Chip Zdarsky, Marco Checchetto, Matthew Wilson, and Clayton Cowles

This post has been in my drafts folder for almost a full year, for no reason other than the fact that I kept feeling like I had more to say about it. But I always have more to say about Mike scenes. Return with me to this bombshell of a conversation from Daredevil volume 7 #1 (twinkly flashback SFX)...

Kind eyes? I always thought the trick to an effective Mike Murdock disguise was in the feathered cap and the goofy sunglasses, but what do I know?

Anyway, jokes aside, let's talk about this doozy of a scene from the new #1, which kicked off the second volume of Zdarsky and Checchetto's Daredevil run. To start, I am delighted by the return of colorist Matthew Wilson, whose stunning work previously graced the back half of Daredevil volume 4.

Daredevil vol. 4 #14 by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, Matthew Wilson, and Joe Caramagna

I've really missed that bright red hair.

This scene directly follows up on the events of Devil's Reign, and the brutal (but maybe not permanent!) death of Matt's dear Real Boy twin brother at the hands of the Kingpin. Specifically, it follows up on what we have seen as the progression of Matt's response to Mike's death: attempting to take advantage of the situation for his own gain in ghoulish and disturbing ways. We have seen Matt bury his brother under his own name-- in a way, capping the Soule/Noto "Double Vision" arc by erasing Mike in the only way still possible (possibly not Matt or Zdarsky's intention, but the parallel is undeniable). And now we see Matt using Mike's identity as a tool and a weapon, trying to gather information on Fisk's whereabouts, and toying with Butch's grief for the sake of adding weight to his crimefighting. We are getting a close look at what it actually means to give Matt Murdock an identical twin, and wow, it is not pretty.

That said, I do not believe that this new horrible co-opting of Mike's identity undermines any of the previous indications that Matt is, in fact, grieving-- despite how callous this seems on the surface. We will always have Devil's Reign #6's brutal display of Matt's pain before he started putting his emotional shields up, and in this issue he has a wonderful scene with his superhero BFF Peter Parker in which, among other things, he opens up a teeny-tiny crack in those shields regarding Mike.

Peter: "Oh god...Mike. Your brother." Matt: "Yeah. I'm okay-- it's just been...it's been hard."

(I love that Peter knows about Mike, since he was largely responsible for Matt creating him in the first place. And of course, I also love that Matt has finally restored his friend's memories-- though that's a topic for another post.) But let's take a look at what we have here, which is, plainly and simply, the weaponizing of the Mike Murdock identity. Which is amazing. Matt mentions here that he has impersonated Mike before, "back in the day". We learned in the 2020 Annual that in the new MCU (Mike Continuity Universe), Matt pretended to be his brother as a kid, back before his accident, to get Mike out of summer school. However, that is almost certainly not what he's referring to here. I'm pretty sure he's referring to this:

Daredevil vol. 1 #25 by Stan Lee, Gene Colan, Frank Giacoia, and Artie Simek

We're coming full-circle! Zdarsky has said before that in this version of reality, Matt did still pretend to be Mike in the original Mike Murdock Saga, rather than it being Mike himself, but this is the first actual on-panel reference to that being the case. We don't get context, we don't get the full story, but even just that little reference to the events of "back in the day" warmed my little Mike nerd heart. And having seen Mike pretend to be Matt in this run, we are now finally, finally! getting to see Matt pretend to be Mike, bringing this whole grand Real Boy Mike experiment-- again-- full circle.

I joked about the "kind eyes" comment at the beginning of the post, but I do want to talk about it because it's a striking thing for Matt to say. I had a great conversation with @thosemintcookies about this a while back, regarding how that comment might be interpreted. After all, while there are many colorful adjectives that can be used to describe Mike Murdock, "kind" is not one that jumps immediately to mind. Not that Mike isn't a decent person, but he has never been shown to be any kind of bastion of goodness, even in the 60s. He's a rascal. And kindness in his eyes? What does that look like? How long has it been since Matt has even seen his brother's eyes? It's an odd thought for him to have, and it reeks of projection. On the surface, he is saying "To pretend to be Mike, I need to seem like a nice person", but what it really may mean is "To pretend to not be me, I have to pretend to be a nice person". Again, we return to that hidden grief, and attached feelings of (normal, secular!) guilt. Matt feels like a scumbag, and in this instance, he's got a pretty good reason. He did not directly get his brother killed, but his brother is still dead because of him, killed by proximity just like so many other people in his life, and now he is doing horrible things to Mike's memory. If he's feeling like a sucky human being at the moment...then yeah, he's not entirely wrong there.

But! Note the past tense: "The trick was always in the eyes". This feeling that his brother is a better person than him is not new. We have painfully few details about Matt and Mike's new past together, so this is worth examining. Is Matt, in his grief, now projecting a morality onto Mike that wasn't actually there? Or has Matt always looked up to his brother in this way? Does he see himself as capable of dark things that Mike, for all of his rascallitude, would never do? It's a fascinating shift in a dynamic that we have previously seen only from Mike's perspective, which showed us the smart, obedient, selfless brother and the disappointment of a twin who could never measure up. Here, we may have Matt's side of things: the flawed but ultimately decent brother and his violent, deceptive, disobedient, callous, chaos gremlin twin. The idea that they both may have seen each other as the better person is absolutely fascinating, and is, of course, informed by the layers of secrets they were keeping from each other.

And of course, there is another facet to this-- Mike's origins. As Mike was once a wish fulfillment source for Matt at a time when he felt he had to hold his personality in check, now we are seeing him as a different flavor of wish fulfillment-- a vision of a better, kinder version of Matt when he is feeling at his most scummy and unkind. The body is barely cold and Matt is already martyring his brother.

Moving on to the rest of the scene, Matt is being horrendously cruel to Butch here in using his dead best friend to get close enough to threaten him...though he doesn't have any reason not to be. It's very likely that he blames Butch for Mike's death-- if not in the immediate sense, then in the fact that Butch's friendship led Mike into a life of crime. Plus, Butch is the new Kingpin and has been going around killing people, so there's also that. When Matt is in pain, he doesn't need much of an excuse to do nasty things to people he dislikes. He could have just shown up here as Daredevil with Spider-Man in tow and delivered his threat, but instead, he adds some psychological warfare-- dangling the hope of Mike still being alive in front of Butch and then ripping that hope away.

Not only that, but it is, for lack of a better term, ballsy as hell. He just strolls in here without a mask on, confident in his ability to fake being Mike well enough to convince Butch, and then he goes "Psych! I'm not Mike after all. I'm just Daredevil in a...really, really good wig and make-up?" Has Matt just revealed his secret identity here? Is Butch going to connect the dots: Matt Murdock vanishing into thin air despite supposedly being "in rehab", Daredevil not only managing to look exactly like Mike but also to play him with a degree of accuracy that suggests he knew him well...? Sure, this might spook him into being a well-behaved little Kingpin, but isn't it also going to make him extra angry and determined to avenge his best friend's death? (I hope so.) Maybe Matt no longer cares. He is leaving the city, and he mentions in this issue that he feels like he isn't going to return this time. (Obviously he will, but that's not the point.) Maybe it doesn't matter anymore if one NYC bad guy knows his secret identity. Maybe he is taking advantage of that, even, to go in here and have the unique pleasure of doing this face-to-face-- in a way, using Mike once more as Daredevil unmasked.

#Long post #Daredevil vol. 7 #Daredevil #Matt Murdock #Butch Pharris #Mike Murdock #Mike Murdockalypse #Commentary #ID in alt text

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broiderie · 1 year

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Lost Princessa: Meet the Reaper 18

Phew... this one is a doozy. I typed too much at once. Guess you'll just get to see a little more than planned in this chapter. Oops... not really. Enjoy!

Warnings: cussing, talk of gun running, talk of weapons, talk of illegal transport of goods, some mild make-out session... Let me know if I missed anything. I'm too tired to think about what I typed lol.

After a quick pit stop to buy burritos from Mama’s favorite food truck, they pulled in to the driveway at her house. She was waiting for them on the front porch swing.

Hank got out and came to let Megan out too, taking the paper bag of food from her. Then he sat her seat forward to let Rex out. Megan had put his new harness and leash on him before they left the house, and she led him up the steps to meet Mama.

“Hi Mama,” Megan greeted with a smile. “Meet Rex.” She knelt to introduce Mama to the big dog who watched her with a doggy grin.

“Oh Cariño, you look so much happier. I’m glad the trip was good for you.” The older woman smiled and offered her hand to the big dog. “And this fine boy- Rex did you say? He’s beautiful, mija.”

Rex sniffed Mama’s hand politely, but his cropped tail never stopped wagging so hard his hind end moved.

“And so polite! Where’d he come from?” Mama stepped up to hug Megan.

A friend of Hank’s up north rescued him. He thought he’d suit me and he was right.” Megan giggled and accepted the hug

Hank came up the stairs shaking his head and laughing. “No welcome home for your own son, Mama? I even brought food.”

“Oh- you! Don’t tease your Mama!” She kissed his cheek when he bent to offer it.

Hank smiled and kissed her hair. “Te amo, Mama. I’m just joking.”

“Let’s go inside to eat,” Mama suggested. “I made some lemonade and tea. We can introduce your big baby to Chi-Chi.”

Inside, Megan warily introduced Rex to Chi-Chi. She wasn’t sure how he’d do with the small dog. She shouldn’t have been worried. Rex was terrified of the chihuahua. He hid behind Megan’s legs until Chi-Chi laid down.

After they caught up over lunch, Mama smiled. “I’m so glad you’re better out of that cast, Cariño. And your color is better too. Are you staying ahead of the pain with your medicine?

“Yes, ma’am. Hank makes sure of it.” Megan smiled at Hank who was sitting back in his chair just listening with a grin as the two most important people in his life chatted.

“Good. Now - I know you didn’t want a big deal for your birthday. I also know that Che and Hank didn’t exactly go along with that idea.” Mama winked at Hank. “But I have something for you too.”

“You didn’t have to do that Mama…” Megan started.

“Maybe not, but I did.” She reached behind her and retrieved a leather bound book. She handed it to Megan with a smile. “Feliz Cumpleaños, hija.”

Megan took the book carefully and opened it. It was very old. It was a recipe book. A handwritten one. Megan ran gentle fingers over the pages. “Is this…”

“My copy of the family recipe book. You love learning to cook new things - and you’ve shared recipes with me. Now it’s my turn.” Mama smiled gently at her and patted her hand. “Besides - there are tricks in there. Ones that will help you as you learn your culture from the ground up.” Mama flipped to the back to show her blank pages. “And this is where you add your own.”

Megan’s eyes teared as she saw where Mama had penned her name at the top of the page. “Are you sure?” she sniffed.

“Very. And that ring on your finger says my Hank is sure too.” Mama stood to kiss Megan on the forehead. “Eres familia. Always.”

Megan leaned into the affection from the older woman and closed her eyes. “Thank you, Mama.”

“De nada.”

Hank smiled gratefully at his mother as she cuddled the love of his life. He petted Rex and let them have their moment.

Soon, Mama patted Megan’s hair and went to take her seat again. “Now - what did Hank get you, Hija? It better have been good.”

Megan giggled and wiped her eyes before she began listing things she’d received as gifts. Mama admired her earrings and her charm bracelet.

“St. Agnes was also my patron saint as a young woman,” Mama explained. “I have her story somewhere around here. I’ll find it for you. I think I still have a rosary and some jewelry too…”

Hank’s phone buzzed and he checked it. “Alright, mi reina. That was your papa. Your guests should begin arriving in the next half-hour or so. We should get to the clubhouse.”

“Yes. Don’t be late for your own party, Cariño. I’ll see you in a few days.” Mama kissed her cheek. “Go. Have fun.”

“Thank you, Mama.” Megan stood and Rex came to heel. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Te amo, Cariño.” Mama kissed Hank as well. “Te amo, hijo. Take care of her.”

“I will, Mama. Te amo. Call if you need us.”

Megan carefully placed her recipe book in the glove box to keep it clean.

“Are you happy, mi amore?” Hank asked as he helped to buckle her seatbelt.

Megan smiled brilliantly at him. “Very. I got a Mom for my birthday.”

Hank chuckled. “I don’t know how I’ll top that next year.”

Megan kissed him softly. “Me either.”

They pulled up to the clubhouse and found Taza waiting for them outside. They could see a lot of movement through the windows, but other than that, the yard was very quiet.

Megan left Rex’s harness on and stuck his leash in her thigh bag before they got out.

“Ah. There you are, Chica. The Reaper should be here any minute with Oakland right behind them,” Taza said as he opened her car door. “Did you enjoy your visit with Mama?”

Megan hugged him tightly. “It was great. She gave me the Loza family recipe book.”

Taza eyebrows hit his hairline and he looked to Hank with a grin. “Really now. That is great.” He kissed her forehead. Rex bounded up to greet Taza too, so Taza scratched his ears for him.

“So - is the plan the same as it was last night? Templo and then party?” Megan asked him.

“Yeah. The same. There will be so many people there for Templo that it’ll probably be senior officers only at the table.” Taza explained, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her towards the stairs.

“Oh. Guess I’ll stand with Coco or Creeper,” Megan said with a little shrug.

Hank chuckled. “You are a senior officer, Princessa. Especially when it comes to the guns. They’re going to be YOUR specialty.”

Megan paused and looked to her father. “Really?”

Inside was swarming with activity as finishing touches were put on the food and decor. Vickie paused on the way through to the bar to tell Megan happy birthday. Gilly was holding the ladder for Coco who was hanging what looked like a giant banner. EZ was stocking the reserve coolers behind the bar and Angel - well he seemed to be flirting hard with a pretty blonde who was wearing way less than the weather called for.

“Really, Chica. Santo Padre Armorer. That puts you at the table.” He paused and opened the door to the clubhouse.

“Where are the tíos?” Megan asked Taza as Rex went to investigate his new dog bed in the corner.

“Templo. I think they’re hiding so Vickie doesn’t make them clean something.”

Megan giggled at the thought. “Alright. I’m going to go say hello.” She kissed Taza’s cheek and then gave Hank a kiss as well before turning to go to the sliding glass door. She knocked as was granted entry - sliding the door closed behind her.

Taza smirked at Hank. “So the family recipe book already?”

Hank smiled and stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “Yep. She didn’t even scold me over Megan’s ring.”

Taza laughed. “Why would she? It’s a promise ring, not an engagement ring.”

Hank chuckled. “Same thing to Mama. Though I’m sure she’ll have plenty to say if I don’t replace it with something larger eventually.” He shrugged a little. “What can I say, Taza? Mama knows when my mind’s made up.”

That made Taza nod and smile. “Good. She needs that stability. Just don’t fuck it up and make me shoot you, Hermano.”

“I won’t.”

There was a rumble of bikers in the distance that made everyone pause. The temple door slid open, and BIshop walked out with an arm around Megan’s shoulders followed by Marcus. Megan was much more relaxed on her home turf.

They all headed outside to greet their visitors. Megan slipped over to stand between Hank and Taza as the gate opened.

Five bikes rolled through the gate that was manned by Creeper at the moment. None of the bikes had the signature look of Mayan bikes. They were all Dynas and one of them carried double. The Reaper had landed.

The dust cleared as the riders dismounted and started stripping off helmets and riding gloves. Megan recognized Chibs, Tig, Venus and the big guy that they called Quinn, but the other two riders were only vague memories. She hadn’t actually met them, but she’d seen them at the lodge. One of them had a prospect patch. The other, she thought, was T.O. He was the only black man she knew of who wore the reaper patch.

The Samcro delegation came forward to greet everyone. Marcus - as ranking member greeted Chibs first. By the time the greetings got to Megan, she��d already accepted a big hug from Venus.

“There’s tha’ lass! How’s ya arm?” Chibs asked, hugging Megan gently.

“Better now that the cast is off. It was causing most of my issues.” Megan said as she hugged the tall Scotsman back. “Still in the soft cast and sling, but not for as long as before.”

“Good ta hear. And… what’s this?” He took Megan’s good hand and spun her slowly so he could see her kutte. “Bylaws changed?”

Bishop laughed. “Nah. Loophole.”

Marcus nodded. “She’s a non-voting officer for the SanPad charter.”

Tig whistled, impressed. “Armorer, huh? Can you handle a weapon, Little Bit? More than your pistol, I mean.”

Megan grinned a little wolfishly. “More than you’ll ever find out.”

“At least you better hope so,” Taza said with a chuckle.

The thunder of more bikes interrupted their conversation. Bikes poured in through the gate, followed by Diana’s Escalade, and then a few more bikes.

Marcus chuckled. “Gentlemen, Poquito, Venus - excuse me. Mi Reina and mi princessa have arrived.” He patted Tig’s shoulder and started towards the large car, only to have the back door fly open. Two steps later, he grunted as a small purple blur collided with him chattering a mile a minute. Megan giggled as Diana got out at a much more sedate pace.

Marco and José went to greet their brothers.

After all parties had refreshment and Tessa had a chance to talk to her prima and tíos, Marcus nodded at Bishop. Even though Marcus technically out ranked Bishop - they were on Santo Padre turf, so Bishop would lead this odd version of Grand Templo.

A shrill whistle cut through the air, and all the members of all three charters filed into the temple. A second chair was at the head of the table and similar on was at the foot. Marcus and Bishop took their positions and Chibs took his place at the foot of the table. The current president of the Oakland Charted and his officers - as well as Marcus and José took seats on the side of the table where Marcus sat. Taza took his place beside Bishop, then turned to smile at Megan. There were curious whispers throughout the room when they realized Megan was in the temple. Hank ignored them and escorted her to the chair next to her father before taking his own between her and Riz. Everyone settled quickly when the gavel fell, and all eyes turned to Bishop.

“Alright. Now that we’re all here, let’s get started. There’s one hell of a party waiting on us out there.” Bishop sat forward with a grin. “Now, some of you have noticed the addition to our table. La Princessa de los Mayas has taken her place as a non-voting officer of the Mayans Motorcycle Club, Santo Padre Charter. Megan will be our Armorer and be responsible for all weaponry that passes through SanPad. She’ll work closely with the officers to assure inventory is kept.”

He paused to glance around the table. “Megan has unique training in multiple weapons and their maintenance. Training we’re going to need as we take on the True IRA contracts.”

Chibs looked to Tig and grinned before he returned his gaze to Bishop. “Found a port, have ya?”

Bishop nodded. “We have. At least if the vote tonight goes the way we hope.” He chuckled again and gestured to Megan. “Alright, Poquito. It’s your action. Bring it to the table.”

Megan swallowed hard, but nodded as she adjusted in her chair to hide her shaking hand. Hank laid a gentle hand on her knee under the table in support. “Santo Padre recently had a meeting with the head of the Galindo cartel. Long story short - to combat the DEA, he has found himself in alliance with Los Olvidados.”

One of the Oakland Mayans standing against the wall interrupted - “But isn’t the LO who you’ve been hunting for months? The same people who took his kid?”

Megan nodded. “Exactly. They decided they needed a third party to mediate and keep everyone honest. That third party is us. It comes with many advantages. One of which was an introduction to Adelita, herself.” She paused to take a sip of water. “At that meeting it occurred to us that an alliance on our own with Adelita comes with even more advantages. Los Olvidados is a vast organization. They control large amounts of government officials on the other side of the border. They are also two thousand soldiers who are used to storing and protecting supplies and weapons at all times.”

Bishop grinned. “And an alliance with the LO protects the M.C. from even more issues when we have to cross over.”

There were nods around the table.

Megan took a deep breath. “So - we met with Adelita - alone, away from Galind. She has agreed to supply the port of entry for the Irish guns, assemble them, and store them on their side of the border. The M.C. handles the buyer and transports. And - she agreed to do it for the twenty percent we had already factored in for the Vatos in the original deal as well as first option to buy when they have a large operation in the works.” Megan smiled and looked around the table.

“At how steep of a discount?” asked the Oakland President.

Marcus chuckled. “That’s the best part… at full price.”

There were surprised mumbles around the table. Men talked quietly among themselves until Bishop sat forward again. “So - any questions?”

“What’s to stop the LO from just taking what they want?” one of the Oakland members asked.

Chibs answered. “Same thing that stopped us - havin’ a club member at tha’ exchange to inventory at the drop to the LO. This does solve things nicely, I will admit. Do we know what port?”

Megan shook her head. “Not yet. We will by the end of the week…”

“If we vote it tonight,” Riz added. “The longer we seesaw - the more likely they are to decide we aren’t worth it.”

Marcus cleared his throat. “It’s a good plan. Solid. It gives us the gun deal with the True IRA and fulfills Jax Teller’s final wishes. It puts Mayans M.C. at the forefront of the two biggest money making trades in the M.C. world. I say we vote it. Now.”

“Seconded,” said the Oakland VP.

“Third,” came from Riz.

“Alright. Every man votes. Oakland or Santo Padre. Do we take on the True IRA gun deal with Los Olvidados as our ally?” Bishop said, looking around the room. “All in favor…”

Hands went up. Some were slower than others, but they went up. Bishop looked around. He couldn’t see any man with his hand still down.

“All opposed?” he asked. Again he scanned the room. He didn’t see any hands. That was really to be expected. Every Mayan had known and planned for the day SoA would hand over the gun trade. Bishop looked to Marcus.

“Unanimous decision. Vote carries,” Marcus stated. Bishop banged the gavel and Megan slumped in relief. Cheers and whoops broke out throughout the temple.

“Good. Now - let’s party!” Bishop stood with a grin.

The celebrating Mayans scattered out the door to claim fresh beers or food leaving only Taza, Bishop, Marcus, and Hank at the table along with Megan. Megan laid her head down on the table and focused on her breathing for a moment.

“Beautiful work, Chica. Beautifully done. A unanimous vote from two charters on your first club action!” Taza laughed gently, patting her back. “Proud of you.”

Hank rubbed her leg under the table letting her calm down.

Marcus and Bishop just laughed with Taza.

Megan finally lifted her head from the table to meet the eyes of the four men who loved her more than life itself. “I really did that, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Poquito. You really did. And I’m just as proud of you now as when you took on Adelita yourself in that meeting,” Bishop assured her.

“Me too, Poquito. You really are proving just how much you love this club,” Marcus said.

The three elder men each stood. “We’re going to go make sure they don’t bring the clubhouse down on top of us. You - take your time. Decompress. Then come join the party,” Bishop said smiling. He dropped a kiss to Megan’s hair. “Proud of you, Poquito.”

Marcus followed his example with a kiss to her forehead. “You deserve that kutte, Bebita. Now come show it off.”

Taza pressed his own kiss to Megan’s temple. “Whenever you’re ready, Chica. See you in a minute.”

They left the room and slid the sliding, stained glass door closed, cutting out some of the noise in the process. Megan breathed a sigh of relief.

Hank chuckled. “They’re right, you know. You were perfect.” He lifted her hand to kiss her ring.

Megan shrugged. “Maybe, but if it all falls apart, they don’t need to look far for who to blame either.”

Hank tugged ehr to her feet as he scooted back from the table. He guided her to stand between his knees so he was looking up into her face. “Mi princessa - if it falls apart, it won’t be for anything you did.” He slipped his hands down to rest on her hips and smiled. “I love you.”

That made her smile. “I love you too.” She leaned down to press a kiss to his lips.

He kissed her back with a chuckle. “Mm. We should probably get out there soon.”

“Yeah. But I think the only ones waiting on us are probably Tessa and maybe Venus.”

Hank laughed again and pressed another kiss to her lips before pulling back. “Maybe so - but if we don’t get out there soon, I might forget that I’m supposed to share you tonight.” He grinned up at her. “You have no idea how sexy it was watching all my brothers realize why you are la princessa.”

Megan rolled her eyes. “I’m le princessa because Taza’s my dad and because of who my tíos are. I had nothing to do with it.”

Hank squeezed her waist gently. “Bullshit. You are A princessa because of your papa and tíos. You are THE princessa because you make this club better. Because you see what we don’t. And because you can use your brain and hold a room full of bikers in awe of you, mi amore.” He nudged her chin with his nose. “Straighten that crown, Princessa and own it. You just saved a lot of lives today. You deserve to be la Princessa de los Mayas.”

She smiled a little. “We’ll see.”

He shook his head. “Alright. You ready?”

“I’d be much more comfortable behind the bar. I’ve never really been to a party before…”

Hank chuckled. “You’ll be alright. He stood and took her hand in his. “Let’s go.”

Out in the bar, Megan laughed as she realized that Tessa had been waiting patiently for her to exit the temple. The little girl immediately attached to Megan’s side. “You okay, Prima?” she asked.

“I’m alright. Just nervous about my first party,” Megan explained to her. “I’m glad you like your jacket though.”

Tessa did a little spin to show off the purple leather jacket Megan had chosen for her on her birthday shopping spree. “I love it!” She showed Megan her little purple Doc Martens. “And Papa bought me boots to match!”

Hank laughed. “Now your prima needs to have matching Docs, huh?”

Tessa squealed and clapped. “Yes! They have SPARKLE ones too! Papa said I could have them if I scored an A on my science test and I know I aced it. Maybe he’ll buy us both a pair!”

Megan laughed at the excited little girl. “I’m not sure sparkle docs will stay very sparkly if I wear them on the bike, Tessa.”

Tessa paused in thought, “So… don’t wear them on the bike…” she stated with a shrug.

Venus overheard her and laughed. “The little princess is right, honey. Some shoes are just for show.” She winked at Tessa. “And I agree with your little cousin - sparkle docs sound perfect for you.”

Tessa nodded decisively. “I’m gonna ask Papa. Be right back!” She scurried off.

“Wait!” Megan tried, but Tessa was already across the room. She groaned and narrowed her eyes at the innocently smiling Venus. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

Venus put on her shocked face and pressed a hand to her chest as if offended. “Bless your heart - I never!”

Hank grinned and sipped his beer with an arm around Megan’s waist. He’d just taken a drink when Megan rolled her eyes again at Venus. “You know - I recognize a Southern ‘fuck you’ when I hear it, right?” she said.

“That’s what makes it so much fun,” Venus said with a wicked grin.

Hank snorted in laughter and choked on his beer.

Tig wandered up with a grin. “Are you ladies trying to choke Hank to death or is that just a kinky thing?”

Hank sputtered and coughed until his airway was clear enough to laugh.

Megan giggled and Venus grinned. “Now Alexander - we would never…”

EZ wandered by with a coke for Megan, which she gladly accepted. Tig noticed. “Little Bit, you okay or just pacing yourself?” he asked, indicating her bottle.

Megan sipped and nodded. “I’m fine. Just not a big drinker.”

Hank guided her back so she could lean against him.

“Fair enough.” Tig smiled.

Megan mingled with Hank, smiling her company smile and accepting happy birthday wishes until Creeper came to her side. Rex had stuck to her like glue and was currently sitting across her feet accepting idle ear scratches, but he perked up as the bald biker approached. “Hey Little Princess, you eaten yet?”

Megan shook her head lightly. “Nah. Been busy being hostess.”

Creeper scoffed. “Girl. You’re supposed to be enjoying your party - not playing nothin’.”

“I’m alright, Creep. I promise,” Megan said quietly, but the strain around her eyes was visible.

Creeper nudged Hank, who had been in a conversation with Marco. “You better get your girl, man. She ain’t eat yet.”

Hank glanced at his watch. “Shit. And she’s over an hour past due for her pain meds,” He looked at Megan. “Mi Reina, I’m sorry. You’ve got to be hurtin’.”

Megan smiled up at him a little shakily. “I’m okay.”

“Brother…” Creeper warned.

“Yeah, I hear her.” Hank said. He excused them from the group they’d been with for a while and led her to a couch in the corner with Creeper following. Hank guided Megan to sit and slid a pillow under her arm. “Now, I know you’re hurting, mi amore. I wish you had said something.” He handed her two pills which she obediently swallowed. “Now - do you want me to make you plate while Creep stays with you or do you want him to do it?”

Megan sighed. “I promise, I’m okay. We can go back to the party.”

Creeper nodded. “Alright. I’ll go get her a plate.” He slipped off, stopping to have a word with Taza on the way by.

Taza turned so that Megan was in his sight as he talked, just in case she needed him, but kept his distance. He didn’t want anyone to see her as weak because he babied her.

Hank squatted in front of Megan and slid one of his hands up to cup the side of her neck gently, guiding her chin up to make her look at him as Rex laid himself across her feet holding her down. “Princessa, you’re shaking and your breath is hitching like before you have a panic attack. What is it?”

Megan leaned into his hand a little and closed her eyes. “We should get back. That’s all.”

Hank leaned forward to press his forehead to hers. “Do you want to go home? If you’re unhappy, we don’t have to stay.”

Megan gave a watery chuckle. “Leave my own birthday party? No. I’m okay.”

“You need to eat, mi amore. Creeper will bring you a plate. We can eat it here, or we can go outside to the picnic table if you’d rather.” He kissed her gently. “Either way.”

“But - I haven’t talked to everyone. I haven’t been a good hostess. I need to be…”

“You need to be sitting your ass down and letting them come to you like the princessa you are, Poquito,” Bishop said, coming up behind Hank. “They come to you. You aren’t the bartender here tonight.” He sat in the armchair nearest her.

“But-”

“No fucking ‘but’.” He lit a cigarette.

Creeper showed up with two plates loaded with food. “Here, Little Princessa. Eat somethin’ Then decide how you wanna spend the rest of your night.” He sat them on the coffee table as Hank moved to sit next to her and pull it closer to her.

Megan hesitantly reached for the fork he’d laid next to the plate. Hank pressed a kiss to her temple. “That’s my girl,” he muttered as she started to nibble.

Bishop stayed planted and people filtered through to talk to him and to those around him as a consequence. Soon, Megan realized her tío was right. If she stayed put, people came to her.

Tessa flitted back and forth from their group and wherever her papa and mama were. Letty came and sat awhile, but she eventually got up to go dance with a few of the younger girls from Vickie’s.

About an hour later, Taza walked over smiling. “Are you ready for cake, Chica?”

Megan smiled up at him, more relaxed. “I guess so.”

“Good. Your tía wants to take Tessa home and put her to bed, but the little demon refuses to leave until after cake,” Taza laughed.

That made Megan giggle. “Should have just cut it, Papa. She’ll be even worse after sugar.”

“Can’t cut the birthday cake without the birthday girl, Sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll get them to bring it over here. After cake - I think you have a few more gifts to unwrap.”

“But I already opened my gifts!” Megan protested as Taza walked away.

Hank chuckled. “That was before you made your birthday a diplomatic event, mi amore.”

Bishop grinned. “More gifts, Poquito, from new friends.” He sipped his whiskey with a chuckle.

Taza returned to perch on the arm for the couch next to her as Creeper carried the cake towards her with candles lit. A toy motorcycle stood in the center. Megan giggled as she saw the Mayans patch and rocker decorating the icing. Tessa started singing happy birthday and Vickie’s girls picked it up. Before the end of the song, Megan’s face felt like it was on fire.

Marcus smiled at her from the crowd with one arm around Diana and one around Tessa. “Blow out your candles, Poquito. Make a wish.”

Megan smiled and leaned forward before blowing out the candles to the applause of those watching. Taza pressed a kiss to her hair as Hank gave her hand an encouraging squeeze.

Vickie took the cake from Creeper so that the girls and EZ could serve it.

“Well, now that the cake is being cut - Present time!” Venus announced. She bustled forward with a large box wrapped in blue paper. “Here, sweetheart. This one’s from me,” she said with a wink.

Megan laughed and took the box. “Thank you.” She opened it with a smile to find something that she didn’t expect from the first lady of Samcro. Inside were two pairs of cowboy boots, a brown pair and a black pair, along with an off white wool cowboy hat. Megan’s jaw dropped. “Venus - “

The dark haired woman smiled softly. “That night at the party, you mentioned that you rode in rodeos. I looked you up. Then I realized that you would have had to leave all your gear behind…”

Megan stood quickly to wrap her in a tight hug. “Thank you so much.”

Venus sniffed a little and smoothed Megan’s hair. “Southern Belles stick together.”

That made Megan giggle and pull back. She went back to her spot on the couch with a little smile before putting on the hat. Hank beamed and straightened it for her.

“Alright. Now that the missus has given her gift -” Tig presented Megan with a small, but heavy box. “In light of your new position, I probably should have gone bigger.”

Megan unwrapped it to find a handgun cleaning kit with a built in field kit to go in her saddle bags. “Thank you!”

Tig chuckled. “You impressed the hell out of me at that meeting, Little Bit. Never seen a chick - well a youngster anyway - so prepared to defend yourself. Thought I’d help you do that.” He shrugged awkwardly. “And Venus wouldn’t let me buy you another gun.”

Venus huffed out a “I swear, Alexander…” as Megan giggled.

Chibs smiled a little. “Aye. My turn.” He sat down his whiskey and smiled. “‘Ve got two. One frum me - and one frum Samcro.” He laid a small box on the table - about as long as his hand. Then, he waved T.O. forward. T.O. also laid a box down - this one much larger.

Megan opened the larger box, which was from Samcro, to find a custom stitched seat for her bike. The beautiful stitching in the black leather picked out the design of a crown. “Oh! It’s beautiful. Thank you!”

T.O. grinned. “It’ll fit. We called your uncle to make sure of it.”

“Thank you. And thank your club for me.”

Chibs smirked. “Little un is frum me.”

Megan opened the box to find knives. Three of them. They were made to be worn on the inside of her belt or inside her kutte the way Chibs wore his. He’d provided sheaths for them as well. The short blades were made for street fighting and the green composite handles fit in her smaller hands nicely. “Oh they’re beautiful. I love them! Thank you.”

“Aye. MY Kerrianne overnighted them to me from the same shop in Ireland where I got mine after I met you at the party. They’ll serve you well, lass.” He smiled as Megan immediately tucked on into one of the straps of her thigh bag which held it perfectly. “Your tío can find you someone to teach you to use ‘em. I’d do it, but ‘m too far away.”

Megan stood and hugged the gruff biker. “Thank you.”

He patted her back awkwardly. “Welcome, lass.”

She sniffed a little and smiled as she sat back down. Hank grinned as she turned to show him her new blades. He examined them carefully and then showed her how to fasten them inside her kutte to conceal them.

Marcus offered Chibs a handshake. “Beautiful blades, my friend. I’ll find her a teacher when she’s ready.”

Chibs chuckled. “Got a boot knife back ordered fur ‘er too. Should be here by ‘er big party.”

Coco was passing by and snorted a laugh. “La princessa’s gunna be armed to the teeth.”

Marcus laughed. “All the better.” He waved the president of the Oakland charter forward to present the gift from the other charter.

A leather binder with the Mayans patch embossed on the cover was laid on the table in front of her. Megan ran her fingers over the cover before glancing up at the Oakland officers. At their smiles, she flipped it open to find a copy of the charter and bylaws of the Mayans Motorcycle Club. “Oh! Is this…”

“A copy for you to keep and study as la Princessa de los Mayas, Princessa. All the bylaws, from every charter. All the history of this club.”

Megan’s smile was blinding. “For me?”

“For you, Princessa. Happy Birthday.” He smiled and gave a little bow before going back to the party.

Megan ran her fingers over the binder again and smiled before looking up to meet the eyes of both Marcus and Bishop.

Marcus smiled. “Now you’ll get to read our story, Poquito. The history of tu familia.”

“Thank you.”

Diana came over after a few minutes to say goodnight. She was taking Tessa home to bed. Apparently, the energetic little girl had finally run out of steam. Marco had found her nodding off at one of the table and was carrying her to the car after bringing her to Marcus for a goodnight cuddle. The Queen of the Mayans pressed a gentle kiss to Megan’s forehead. “Sleep well, Princessa. We’ll see you in the morning.”

Things got a little wilder as it got later, but not much. A few guys got in the ring for fun and Bishop went to watch. Soon, Megan and Hank were left mostly on their own in that little corner of the clubhouse. Even Rex was asleep in his dog bed nearby. Megan was curled into Hank’s side, resting comfortably.

Hank smiled down at her. “Have you enjoyed your birthday party, mi amore?”

Megan tilted her face up towards him. “I actually have. At least once we moved over here.”

He shifted so he could reach to kiss her. “Good. We just need to remember to put you in a corner. I’ll try to remember, mi reina.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

“Sorry I freaked out,” she whispered.

Hank shifted her carefully to his lap before guiding her to straddle him. “Mi princessa, you absolutely did not freak out. You were so anxious you were shaking, but you kept going. You didn’t freese. You kept your panic in your control. You were so brave and so strong. You amaze me, Megan.” He cupped her face in both hands and pressed his forehead to hers. “No apologies, mi amore.”

Megan smiled and nodded a little. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He grinned and kissed her again.

Megan kissed him back and shifted closer to his body. His hands rubbed gently down her back until they came to her hips. He slid them under her tunic so he could feel her skin. Megan wrapped the fingers of her good hand in his shirt to pull herself closer, pressing her hips into him.

Hank groaned and broke the kiss, dropping his head to rest on her good shoulder. “Not fair, mi reina. You know what the doctor said.” He pressed kisses to the skin of her throat and chest where he could reach.

Megan whined until Hank lifted his head to kiss her again. “I’m sorry, mi reina. No strenuous activities of you could end up back in a cast. A week, mi amore. At least a week.”

Megan collapsed against his chest growling and frustrated. Hank kissed her hair. “Please, Hank?”

He closed his eyes and winced. “I don’t want to hurt you, Megan. Please…”

She sighed. “I know.” She lifted her head to kiss him softly. “I’m sorry. I know.”

Hank smiled softly and returned her kiss. “Just… be patient a little longer, mi reina.”

Megan nodded and cuddled close. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask.” He kissed her again.

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wordynerdygurl · 2 years

Text

Someone to Watch Over Me

Part 2: “Seek & You Will Find”

Author’s Note: Listen, this chapter- it’s a doozy! A whopper! In the words of our favorite Metalhead, a “Big Boy”! My endless thanks to @sweetsweetjellybean for the sage-like advice. Couldn’t have gotten here without you! Seriously, I’m beyond thankful for your guidance!

Also, anyone want a playlist for this story? Lemme know!

If you need to catch up: Part 1 - Love is Blind Pairing: Eddie Munson x Plus Sized OC Amanda Patterson Summary: It’s love at first sound, pitch perfect and fated, everything in harmony. If only life were a love song.

When Amanda has a rotten rehearsal, Eddie finds a way to turn things around with the help of his friends. Is it possible that these two lost lambs have found someone to love?

Warnings: There’s some mild fat-shaming/ fat-phobia happening here. Lots of making out and references to 80s relics such as MTV VJs. Also, there’s junk food discussed and frankly, in my heart, I know Eddie is Twizzlers guy. No, it’s not up for discussion!

Happy Reading!

1990 There was no end in sight.

Chuck kept asking questions. Insipid and uninspired things like ‘What’s your favorite color?’ ‘Favorite food?’ ‘Favorite Soda?’

And every member of the band answered enthusiastically except for Eddie. He couldn’t seem to stop his brain train from running down a track towards self doubt. Why didn’t he just say that their new single was his favorite song? Name a tune from any one of the thousands that routinely blasted from his Walk-Man or stereo or car radio. Instead, like an idiot, Eddie had let his mouth speak for his stupid, stupid heart. The one organ that had no business talking out of turn. Not in front of the guys. Not to Chuck, the affront to fashion in front of him. Not to all of America once the production team edited the band’s responses together into a clip package that could be shown over and over and over in between music videos and commercials for Diet Coke. The unending false cheerfulness of the interviewer ground down Eddie’s normally thick skin, turning him sullen, moody. Of course, Eddie recognized that this could also be blamed on his bare honesty when asked a simple question about his favorite song. Was Chuck, the walking graffiti wall, really to blame? After all, the band had agreed to this list of softball questions. It’s just that Eddie hadn’t expected to be so honest. Hadn’t counted on sabotaging himself. And he was kicking himself internally for the over share. If anyone, including the doofus with his artfully styled mullet, realized how Eddie was feeling they didn’t acknowledge it. Everyone just sort of carried on like normal, especially Chuck who cleared his throat, barrelling onward, “Indiana isn’t really known for it’s rock ‘n roll. How did the band get started? What brought Corroded Coffin together?” “Oh, that’s easy!” Eddie felt the familiar hands of Gareth land noisily on his shoulders from behind, “Eddie and I went to high school together, started playing for fun in my garage. Next thing you know we’re here, getting ourselves on MTV!” Bless him, Eddie thought, a half smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Gareth took the heat off of him, answering a couple more of Chuck’s neverending inquiries, effectively easing some of the tension that had wrapped itself around the front man. It was nice, even if it didn’t last long. “Eddie, you’re a founding member of the group, the lead singer, lead guitarist, and primary song writer here. I gotta ask-” Chuck leaned forward as if they were close friends gossiping over beers, the fakeness of it making Eddie’s jaw clench, “-Is there anything you don’t do for the band?”

It wasn’t meant to be prying, Eddie got that. This whole thing was supposed to be cushy, simple, fun. Another great way to get the band in front of audiences who were demographically appropriate for their fan base. They had all agreed to sit down and promote the record, the music video, the tour they were opening for each night. Did Chuck, and by extension, America, really need to know that Eddie wasn’t looking forward to going back to Indiana? Was that part of his obligation? Putting his memories, his history, his heartbreak out there for everyone to look at in between Billy Idol’s new single and Madonna’s latest video drop?

Maggie kicked at his boot. It was a warning from his faithful head of security, a soundless reminder to play nice with the other kids. Especially since this was too big a moment to blow by being a pouty pants.

So Eddie did what he always did when he hated what was being forced on him by the institutions pulling his strings. He leaned into malicious compliance while mentally giving everyone around him, including his beloved Maggie, an imaginary middle finger. He smiled broadly, his laugh too loud. It was such a tonal shift that Chuck jumped in his seat, nearly frantic, “Eddie? Are you ok to continue?” Batting his kohl rimmed eyes at the poor man’s Kurt Loder before him, Eddie resigned himself to giving the producers a sound bite for the ages. “Yea, yea. Fine, Chuckie! What, uh, what don’t I do for the band? I guess-” running a ringed hand over the back of his neck, Eddie shook his head, holding his cheeks up through force of will, “-I don’t cook. Not anymore. Not since the uh, Grilled Cheese Incident of 1988.” The smile that Chuck flashed was pure, unadulterated Americana wholesomeness. It was a Donny Osmond, Crest commercial smile. Eddie hated it. Itchy from discomfort, he craved nicotine. Caffeine. Anything but sitting still in front of this dork who managed to keep his creepily perfect smile intact despite Eddie’s threatening to slip away. “Oh, ho! Sounds like there’s a great story there!” Shrugging, going for shyness, Eddie looked off camera, finding Maggie’s eyes below the lip of her scally cap. It was a line almost as hard as her smile. She was displeased but that gave Eddie new life. Message received, he nodded, resettling his widest, grossest grin onto his face, “Yea! Almost set fire to the hotel room in Atlanta by making a sandwich with the in-room iron. How was I supposed to know that toast burns under the wool setting? Am I right, Chuck?” A robust laugh from Chuck got the rest of the boys chuckling too, “An important lesson for the kids at home! And, speaking of the kids at home, I hear you and the band have a surprise for some lucky Indianapolis Metal fans in the new year, is that right?” Faking it in a tone of voice typically reserved for ill fated travelers about to meet their doom around the DnD table, Eddie grinned wickedly, “Oh, that’s absolutely correct, Chuck.”

“Care to tell us more, Eddie?” Raising an eyebrow and its sterling hoop with it, Eddie clicked his teeth, “Ya know what, Chuck, it’d be my pleasure.”

He heard Maggie’s eyes roll even if he didn’t see it for himself. —

1987

“Well? Are you really not gonna tell me?” Carly was staring through Amanda as if she could pull the information out of her brain by willpower alone.

Heat flared through Amanda, landing prettily along her cheeks as she shrugged, “Tell you what?” Snorting, just shy of angry, Carly’s wide set eyes bulged comically, “About the guy from the concert- Eddie? Yea. Eddie.” At the mention of his name Amanda felt a rush of shimmering excitement slip down her spine. Eddie. It seemed like that was all she thought about these days but Carly and the others didn’t need to know that little fact. In the two weeks since their concert in Hawkins, the band had taken a little time off for class work and work work. Amanda hadn’t seen any of them since that night. Clearing her throat, flipping through the sheet music in front of her, Amanda sighed, “Who?” She didn’t sell the put on bored tone, not to Carly anyway, who pushed back, “Uh uh. No way. I want details. All of them. Because that boy-” Carly’s voice turned wistful, “-was gorgeous. And he only had eyes for you.” Even though she knew this was all fact, Amanda still felt the need to self-protect. Shield whatever was growing between her and Eddie from anyone who might try and trample on the spring green bud of their romance because this was new for her, exciting. The heady rush of liking someone and having them return the sentiment had been so far out of her experience that Amanda found herself treasuring even the smallest of gestures from Eddie. Something her more experienced and frankly filthy friend would not be able to understand. And also, Amanda wasn’t entirely sure that she liked the way Carly got all glazed and gooey when she talked about Eddie. It made her feel protective of him. It made her want to keep him safe, and by her side, and away from cute, coquettish Carly at all costs. Stiffer than usual, Amanda turned to her friend, “Well, if you must know-” “I absolutely must! You practically disappeared with him.” Siddling closer, Carly’s voice dropped conspiratorially, “Mark was worried.” Snapping her head up, Amanda looked across the practice space to where Jim and Mark were chatting like normal, “He was?” “Yup. Thought something bad was gonna happen to you after you went off with a stranger.” “Um, ok, I mean, I was fine. More than fine, actually” The barest hint of a smile played out over Amanda’s lips, a phantom made of memory and moonlight and milkshakes. Carly smiled smugly, a knowing tint to her tone, “Oh, I know. That uh, hickey speaks volumes.” Reflexively Amanda rubbed a hand over the narrowly exposed lavender stain on her collarbone, biting into her bottom lip, “Shh! Not so loud!” “Please! Just, level with me, Amanda. How was he?” Wagging her eyebrows, Carly wasn’t going to stop until she heard all the sorted details, leaning over her keyboard with obvious interest, practically drooling. Rolling her eyes skyward, shutting them long enough to gather a thoughtful response, Amanda slowly leveled her gaze at her friend. Risking a sideways glance at the boys, she pushed closer to the almost vibrationally excited Carly, swooning like a cartoon princess, “He was wonderful.” “And?” “And what?” Carly huffed in frustration, “What do you mean ‘and what’? What did you do? What did you do to him? What did he do to you?” She was very emphatically implying that she wanted the meat of the story. The gory, bloody bits of what had transpired between Amanda and Eddie. Pieces that she wasn’t sure about sharing. Amanda though, was all too happy to play dumb, “Oh, well we went to the diner and had milkshakes and then-” Over eager, Carly cut her off with an excited flick of her hand, “Then you guys did it, right? Was it in that shitty van?” A confused look clouded Amanda’s face, “What? No. We uh, we did hold hands under the stars and-” “Then you did it?” Laughing at her friend’s crestfallen face, she shook her head, “We didn’t do it, Carly. Sorry to disappoint you.”

Groaning, Carly lightly shoved at Amanda’s shoulder, “You’ve gotta be kidding me! Why the hell not? He was clearly down for you and bad too. What happened? How come you didn’t-” Amanda watched as her friend made sure the boys weren’t able to hear them as she taunted, “-ya know, seal the deal?” Tilting her head, Amanda let her memories of that night fill her mind. Full of small touches that lingered and the scent of vanilla ice cream, the heavy taste of greasy fries and the sound of rumbling laughter from below. It had been perfect and complete, just as it was. After the diner, Eddie had driven out to Lover’s Lake, his hand never leaving Amanda’s, even when he had to flip the cassette tape. He had popped open the back doors, inviting her to sit beside him under a quilt that usually cradled his amplifier. Then Eddie started talking and Amanda found herself lost in the even cadence of his voice. And when he spoke about the last time he had been at the lake, about seeing things that hurt to remember, it was Amanda who threaded her fingers into his net of hair. It was Amanda that turned Eddie’s starry eyes to hers. It was Amanda who whispered, “I’m, I’m so sorry that happened to you.” Amanda did all that, working from some intrinsic biological knowledge. But Eddie was the one who stole her breath under the moonlight. And when sitting up was too much work, keeping them too far away from each other to be comfortable, the cargo space in his van was the only witness to their necking. Humid kisses that scalded along the tender tension of Amanda’s throat. Tiny, closed lip smacks to the skin under Eddie’s chin where even stubble refused to grow. The unpracticed nip of his canine tooth tugging on Amanda’s earlobe, the ungainly groan Eddie uttered when she pulled his hair. No one knew about that but the van, the night sky, and the pair of them. She would have gone further. She wanted to, saying as much to Eddie in between ragged breaths and sugar spun sighs, but he shook the mop of curls that framed his flushed face, “Why buy the cow if you get the milk for free?” Protests started to form, Amanda’s mind ready to fight his logic, only to be subdued by another hot press of his swollen lips to hers. Eddie’s endless eyes searching hers in the starlight confessed, “Need to see you again, Mandy. If I- if we, well, ya know- then there won’t be much to look forward to.”

That wasn’t true. Amanda’s head and heart rebelled against the thought because could already think of a million reasons to see Eddie Munson again. Almost none of them had to do with getting him out of his exceptionally well fitted jeans. Almost.

And maybe she would have fought back harder against his denial if he hadn’t freely admitted his own need. Knowing that Eddie wanted more- another date, another chance to see her, another night shared under starlight, made the throbbing ache in her body a little bit easier to ignore. Amanda didn’t have to have immediate satisfaction, despite how much she may have craved it, when Eddie slurped hungrily against the fragile skin of her throat, marking her as taken. Oh, yea. Amanda could wait. It would absolutely be worth it. Eddie had pinky promised. But Amanda was not about to tell Carly any of that. Those were porcelain, precious pieces of her night with Eddie. She was holding them close to her heart but that didn’t mean she couldn’t give her friend something to chew on. Shifting an eyebrow up, a sly smile curving over her lips, “Um, Eddie didn’t- well, we didn’t need to.” “What does that even mean?” But Amanda didn’t get a chance to answer. Mark and Jim were ready to start the session which brought their conversation to a stop even if she knew Carly wasn’t going to let it go. “Later, k?”

Checking her watch, Amanda was surprised to see that their booked practice time was nearly up. It had been a good one, at least for her. Singing all those pretty love songs while thinking about a certain long and lean leather wearing guy who could kiss like a sailor on shore leave helped Amanda put her heart into every note. Not everyone in the band was having as good a night. All practice long Mark had been full of criticism. Carly was rushing the melody on one song, dragging down the rhythm on the next. He questioned Jim’s ability to keep up during a run through of “Fever”, citing the bassline as too easy for it to sound so bad. With harsh comments about late entries or off key starting notes, a scowl practically plastered to his face anytime Amanda looked in his direction, Mark was clearly going through something. Everyone was entitled to a bad day, Amanda had had a few herself over the years, but there was a meanness to Mark tonight that felt off. Wrong. There had been only one major critique from the stocky drummer about Amanda’s work this session, coming after the last note of Someone to Watch Over Me. Mark’s ruddy face was redder than usual as he tossed down his sticks, “Yea, yea, we get it. You’re desperate for love or whatever. Do you have to sound so, so, I don’t know, shameless when you sing it Amanda?” “I’m sorry?” “It’s like you’re begging for a man by the end of that song. Like you’ll take anyone home.” Carly was shaking her head, refusing to meet Amanda’s searching gaze, second hand embarrassment pinkening her cheeks. Jim couldn’t stop staring at Mark, his mouth hanging open, his fingers frozen on the strings of his instrument. Amanda shrugged, adjusting her microphone stand, “Uh, I sang it like I always do.” “Yea, that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Mark’s too light eyes bored into Amanda’s, silently struggling to communicate something she wasn’t picking up. Jim cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention, and diplomatically offered, “Uh, we’re running out of time, guys. Maybe let’s go over ‘I Can See Clearly Now’? Carly? Amanda? That sound ok?” Nodding, Amanda agreed quietly, flipping through her lyric book for the right song. Tossing her tight coils of hair, Carly nodded, squeaking out her reply without any of her usual playfulness, “Yup. Fine with me. Count us in Mark.” His sticks clicked together loudly, not bothering to count out loud for the benefit of his bandmates, not really acknowledging any of them, just jumping straight to the intro. It didn’t matter, they all fell into the tune, years of practice making it easy even if the room’s energy was still wasn’t. Mark worked the drums hard, without looking at his hands, instead watching Amanda like a hawk everytime she dared risk a glance in his direction.

A heavy, weighted thing, his stare followed her as she confidently started to sing over the other instruments. Amanda might have been unsure about whatever was bothering Mark, she may have been cautious about oversharing with Carly, but one thing Amanda knew with certainty was that she sounded good tonight. So did the band, despite what Mark had alleged with his prickly, nit-picking comments. So, despite how happy she had been with her own performance, Amanda was eager to get home where there was a hot shower and cold beer waiting. Beyond ready to put this bizarro rehearsal behind her, when Jim called it, Amanda wasted no time packing up her things. After all, Eddie would be calling soon and that was the wonderful thing to look forward to at the end of this long day. She was crouched down, wrapping up her chords and stowing things in their proper place, when Mark’s beat up Converse sneakers appeared in front of her. He cleared his throat a bit too loudly to get her attention, “Uh, hey Amanda?” Was this the start of an apology? God, she hoped so. And not just for her but for Jim and Carly too. “Yea?” It hit somewhere between disinterested and already engaged but still friendly, welcoming. Without shifting her focus, Amanda carried on, situating her things inside the case which held her microphone and not the drummer standing with his hands in the pockets of his corduroys. “Where- uh, where’d you disappear to? Ya know, after the show the other night?” Looking up at him, Amanda blinked purposefully, not confused by the question but by the need to ask it. “I uh, I went out with a friend.” Mark shuffled in place, dragging a hand through his close cropped hair, something clearly on his mind. Watching him war with himself was tiresome and before he could say anything else, Amanda reached out, “Help me up?” Dragging her to her feet like he had done countless times, Mark didn’t let go of her hand right away so Amanda pulled it back, cocking her head with a small smile, “Uh, thanks for the assist!” Still he was silent. Brooding. Fidgety and nervous, behavior that wasn’t normal Mark. Paired with his, frankly, shitty attitude all night long, it tripped Amanda’s emotional alert system. Something was definitely wrong. The sympathetic friend to all in need, Amanda breathed out a sigh, “Are you ok, Mark? You just seem a little-” She reached for his shoulder comfortingly like she would do for any of her friends. Only Mark brusquely jumped away from her touch, cutting through her comment in a harsh rush, “So, uh who’s the guy?” Stopping short, Amanda dropped her hand as if she’s been burned, cheeks flaming from the question. From the tone of it. From the implication it carried. Shaking it off, she countered with a question of her own, asking lightly, “From the concert? His name is Eddie.” “Eddie?” Parroting her answer, Mark let his eyes linger on something over Amanda’s shoulder, unable to look at her now. “Is he, like, your-” pausing, really working to dig out the word that he was reluctant to say, Mark finally settled his pained look on Amanda’s face, “-your boyfriend?” Was he? Labels hadn’t been discussed, it had only been a few dates after all, but Amanda felt connected to Eddie in a way that was difficult to describe. It was everything and nothing. Life changing but life affirming, too. So, was she Eddie’s girlfriend? Not in a junior high school dance sort of way. She wasn’t going to start drawing hearts with his initials on her notebook or anything like that, but she also couldn’t deny that they were linked. Bonded. Fated. And Amanda felt all of that, her fingers brushing over the discolored skin at her edge of her blouse as evidence of her connection with Eddie, but what she said to Mark was, “Yea. I- I think he is.” Curious stares from Jim and Carly followed the exchange happening smack in the middle of their shared practice space. Their heads swiveled between the drummer and vocalist, not wanting to miss a moment, as Mark added hotly, “You think? What the hell is that, Amanda? Is he or isn’t he?” That tone was new. She couldn’t think of a time when Mark had been anything less than complimentary, kind. Until tonight, anyway. Now he was tight lipped, clenched hands at his sides, the shoulders of his Rush t-shirt nearly grazing his ears. Facing him full on, Amanda straightened her spine, a pinched purse to her lips, struggling to keep things smooth. Easy. And feeling her way around the enigmatic energy that Mark was putting out. “Well, uh, I, I met him at work. Yea, must be a couple of weeks back. He plays guitar and came in for a score book. I was uh, putting up flyers for our show and, he, ya know, came to see us.” Scoffing at her, his voice raised, Mark’s already white skin was stained scarlet in hot patches along his throat and face, “A random guy? A, a stranger? You just, I don’t know, talk to men you don’t know and, like, invite them to see you sing?” Flinching, Amanda tilted her head his way, clarity coming all at once, “Are- are you mad at me, Mark?” “Yea. Hell yea, I am. I’m fucking pissed. You, you just disappeared with some long haired dude out of the crowd like it was no big deal. Not a word about where you were going or, or, when you’d be back.” Stepping closer, voice dropping to little more than a whisper, Mark reached out a hand to rub along the sleeve of Amanda's sweater, “I-” he swallowed audibly, “-I was worried about you.” Oh. That made some sense, Amanda figured. Mark was looking out for her, keeping an eye on her. Protecting her. Fiercer than needed, maybe, but protecting her just the same. It was kind of nice, even if it was entirely unnecessary where Eddie was concerned. A friendly grin filled her face, relief replacing Amanda’s anxiety, “Mark! That’s like, super sweet of you, but honestly? Eddie is so-” giddiness welled up inside of Amanda at the thought of Eddie. It turned her smile into something dreamy as she gushed, “-he’s so-” Biting into her bliss, Marks’ bitterness sliced into Amanda’s sentence, “So what? Huh, Amanda? What does this guy do? Where does he live? What do you even know about him?” Amanda wasn’t used to being on the spot, not like this and never with an audience made up of her friends. It was nearly an interrogation and every time she offered a response Mark was there, waiting, with words to try and trap her. “I know enough, Mark. I know that Eddie’s been a perfect gentleman. That- that he’s kind. Gentle.” “Gentle? Gentlemen don’t bruise girls like that.” He pointed at the purple splotch peeking from under her collar as if it were evidence of some kind. Tugging her shirt closer, embarrassed heat roared through her, “That’s- that’s private. It’s not what you think.” “It’s hardly private, Amanda, when you parade around here, showing it off for all of us to see.” Squaring his stance, Mark looked down his freckled nose at her, questioning her the way a furious father might, “Did- did he hurt you?” The idea of it was so absurd that Amanda laughed directly in Mark’s face. “Hurt me? No. No, Mark. I- I wanted Eddie to uh, ya know-” bashfully, she let her sentence and its implication go unfinished. God, it was so difficult to talk about this stuff when her buddy and bandmate looked so irrationally mad. Furious. Frighteningly so. She had thought, perhaps naively, that he would be happy for her the same way Carly had been. In that teasing, ball-busting way that friends were supposed to support each other when a new relationship was starting. It had never occurred to Amanda that Mark, or anyone, really, would be pissed about Eddie. “You, you wanted that? From a guy like him? I just don’t understand, Amanda.” There was another layer to Mark’s voice this time, something closer to sadness than she had ever heard before. Hurt. That was the sour note, the discordant jangle, which flattened all the words that left his mouth. More confused than ever, Amanda swiftly switched into comfort mode, a place that was more than familiar. After all, her’s was the dependable shoulder that people cried on and she put that emotional muscle memory to work, soothing, “Mark, it’s ok. I’m ok, really. Eddie, he’s a really great guy and, yea, we’re still getting to know each other. This, this thing with Eddie and I- it’s brand new and like, yea, I- we have a good time together. I fully plan on having more good times with him. He’s just like, really sweet and thoughtful and-” “Enough, ok. I get it. I just, I don’t know, never figured you for someone who’d get hooked up with some townie trash. It’s stupid, Amanda. Dumb.” Carly’s eyes went saucer wide and Jim physically winced at the heated words Mark flung at Amanda. This was the first time any of them had argued over more than a late entry or repeating a chorus too many times. This was serious. “Townie trash?” Sputtering, fury filling all the available space in Amanda’s body, she couldn’t actually believe what Mark had said about Eddie.

“You don’t even know him!” Shrill and thin, Amanda was nearly hollering now, unable to keep the anger bottled up. Tears gathered in her eyes, not from sadness but from the cruel unkind things Mark kept tossing her way. Braver than he had any right to be, Mark took a step forward, cold eyes narrowing sharply, “Do you even know this guy? Know who he is? I do. I asked around, Amanda. He’s a fucking drug dealer for one thing! And someone told me that he, like, barely beat a murder charge years ago. Murder, Amanda.” Waving a hand in front of her face as if she was trying to erase the terrible things coming out of Mark’s mouth, Amanda snapped back with a hiccup in her voice, “Well, he told me all about it. Unlike you, I got my information from the source.” Scoffing, Mark rolled his head to the ceiling as if he was struggling to make a toddler understand, “And you think he told you the truth? Amanda, come on! You can’t really-” “Really what? I can’t really like a guy who used to sell dime bags in the woods of his high school? I couldn’t possibly be into someone who told me he had a reputation, told me that, that he had been through some seriously bad shit?” She had gained ground as her rage swelled with the need to defend Eddie from Mark, glaring at someone who should have been on her side, should have been excited for her and instead was berating her. Amanda’s heart was heavy from it when she asked, “Why do you even care? What does it matter to you, Mark?” Mark took a tentative step closer, crowding into her personal space as his voice dropped lower trying to capture Amanda’s line of vision, “I think you know why.” “Mark-” “Amanda. Come on. You can’t not know, right?” “Know what?” But in saying it, Amanda realized exactly what Mark was trying to say through all his clumsy blustering. Something that he had been struggling to say wordlessly for a long time if she looked at it through the prism of Carly’s revelation. Although, it still didn’t account for Mark’s not acting on any of his feelings in a meaningful way. And in that second Amanda was furious at him anew. At all of them, really. Because it was becoming more apparent that Carly and Jim had known about the depth of Mark’s feelings without ever once letting her in on the secret. Even now, she had to watch as Mark stumbled through his admission, a nervous hitch in his throat that made the normally stoic guy sound small. “That I- that I’m into you, even though I shouldn’t be. Ya know?” Carly sucked in a breath. Jim groaned and looked around the room for an exit. Amanda blinked dumbly. “What did you say?” A cocky grin, starting small, started to spread over Mark’s freckled cheeks. “Look, I know that you’re a, a bigger girl, and like, your choices are limited. Most guys wouldn’t want that, but-” he was reaching up to tuck a strand of Amanda’s hair behind her ear when she jerked her head away, “-Amanda, I do. I want you in spite of that.” All at once the room was too small. Too hot. And Mark was standing entirely too close. Again, Mark made to touch her, forcing a rough whisper out of Amanda, “Don’t.” “But, Amanda, I just told you that I-” Shaking her head, Amanda took a huge backward step, kicking her microphone case, “Stop! Please, Mark. Stop. Don’t, don’t say anything else.” Her breaths were short, not enough air making its way into her lungs, and Amanda could sense the racing of her pulse. Worry was late in arriving on Mark’s face but when it had, he reached out a hand, only for Amanda to bat it away, “No.” Carly was in front of her then, “Hey, Amanda, you need to breathe, alright? Gotta take a deep breath for me, k?” Nodding her head, Amanda let herself be led to one of the metal legged chairs that was stacked near the door of the rehearsal space, Carly crouching at her side. From a distance she could see Jim talking to Mark, a hand on the drummer’s chest, and managed to puff out an apology, “I’m- I’m so sorry, Carly. I’m so terribly sorry about this-” Friendly fingers squeezed Amanda’s, “Hey, none of that. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re ok. You’re good. Just a little upset is all.” Amanda closed her eyes, focusing on the inhales and exhales until she no longer felt a hitch in her sternum. When she looked up again, Mark was gone and Carly was handing her a paper cup of water, “Jim, uh, well, he told Mark to take a hike.” A wet giggle burst out of Amanda and she drank greedily as Carly went on, “How ya feelin’? That was, shit, Amanda, I’m so sorry. Because that was wild.” It was late enough that no other students would be looking to get into the practice rooms, something that she was grateful for, since Amanda knew that she was a mess. Tears and hyperventilation took a toll, not to mention the stuffy nose crying had created. There was no way she could face anyone else but Carly just now. “Carly?” “Yea, babe?” “Did Mark really-” She didn’t finish her sentence. Didn’t think she could, really, when the recollection of all that had been said filtered through her head. Carly seemed to know that too because she sighed heavily and nodded once.

Carly eyed her cautiously, rocking back on her heels, testing the waters slowly, “Look. Mark went way over the line tonight. He’s clearly-” “Don’t defend him, ok? Please, Carly.” Amanda rubbed her temples, a throbbing headache making its presence known, “I just don’t understand. Why would he say those things?” She struggled to condense her thoughts into meaningful words, words that made some sense, but came up lacking. Something her friend picked up on. “Hey. I’m on your side here, Amanda. And I’ve been telling Mark to talk to you for a while now. It’s what you deserved, ya know?” When the singer didn’t respond, Carly nudged her gently, “Wanna go get drunk? Pour some sugar in Mark’s gas tank? Order five dozen pizzas to his frat house?” Swallowing down some more water, feeling more in control of herself, Amanda’s weak smile met Carly’s, “Thanks, I- I think I need to get out of here. Feed the cat, maybe call Eddie?” A slow grin grew across Carly’s friendly face, it was a knowing thing, but full of sweetness, “Uh huh. Of course. Maybe he could come over and make you feel gooooood!” The way she drew out the vowels made Amanda laugh, feeling lighter at the idea of seeing Eddie, “Maybe.” Carly pushed up on her knees, standing quickly, “Well, I imagine he could help you relieve some stress, is all I’m sayin’.” Heat crept through Amanda at the insinuation but she didn’t reject the idea outright. Perhaps her little friend had a point. Perhaps there was some comfort to be gained by having Eddie wrapped around her. When Carly offered her a hand, Amanda took it before pulling the girl into a hug, “Thanks for hanging around.” “It’s the least I could do.” “Still, I’m so embarrassed about all this, Carly. I can’t-” A firm shake of her head silenced Amanda, “No. Don’t do that. You shouldn’t be embarrassed. Mark should be. He’s the asshole here.” Agreeing numbly, Amanda grabbed her case by its handle, almost out the door when Carly called, “Amanda? Are you going to be here next week? Like, are you going to come to practice?”

She already had her answer ready, as much as she didn’t want it to be true, “Uh, we’ll see. I’ll- I’ll have to let you know.” A long look passed between the keyboard player and song bird. Carly bobbed her head once, “You call me, yea?” “Of course.”

____ Eddie was clingy, ok? He knew that about himself. Always the last person to let go during a hug, never in a rush to pull away, Eddie realized he had the potential to become a human sized barnacle, given the chance. And it wasn’t just physical. He craved reassurance from any and everyone, returning it in equal measure. Check in calls from Nancy or Robin, a drop-in at Family Video during every one of Steve’s shifts, dinners at the Henderson house each week, Corroded Coffin practice and, on rare occasions, a performance. It kept Eddie connected to all of the little sheep in his flock. But Amanda was something different, wasn’t she? A woman who lived on her own, went to school, went to work, went to band rehearsals and was content with making her own way. So independent it worried Eddie because he wanted her to depend on him. Yea, Eddie was clingy and protective and he had a hard time not showering those he loved in his affection. People who knew him, really knew him well, understood his blanket of affection. For new faces though, it could be a lot. Eddie could be a lot. And he’d had more than one relationship end before it began because of his smothering, suffocating, face hugging alien level of attachment. This time, Eddie vowed that wasn’t going to let that happen. He had a plan. A campaign for himself, with the end goal of winning Amanda, heart and soul. So, he had told her, flat out, that he, Eddie Munson, was an all or nothing kinda guy.

It was over the phone, the morning after the concert, because Eddie also didn’t have great impulse control. He’d just laid it out in plain English; he liked her. Alot. He liked talking to her and he liked kissing her even more. Because he wanted to continue doing both things, and not lose sleep over it, Eddie proposed some guidelines. Graciously, grandly, his Amanda agreed to one phone call a day. A check in, usually after dinner or a night shift, depending on the night, where they both unloaded the day’s events into the sympathetic ear of the other. It was one call a day, yes, one call that usually lasted four or five hours, a fact which couldn't be laid entirely at Eddie’s feet. After all, it was Amanda who refused to hang up first. Said it made her sad to say goodbye, which was just about the sweetest thing Eddie had ever heard, since most people couldn’t get rid of him fast enough. Now they ended their calls with “Night, Night” as if they were children taking a nap at daycare or something, instead of nearly full grown adults who desperately needed sleep before heading out to work or school. That was if they even remembered to hang up at all. Wayne had come home on at least two occasions to find Eddie asleep, cradling the receiver to his ear, snoring away. When he heard a matching set of heavy breaths on the other end of the phone, Wayne got the picture clear enough, telling his nephew to try and rehang the handset, if possible. No need to keep the line engaged and stretch the cord like that just to fall asleep together. Amanda had giggled at that, promising solemnly to try and avoid any future overnight calls, despite how lovely it was to listen to Eddie sleep. And the romantic in Eddie ate that shit up. It was the stuff of legend. And shit, did Eddie want to be legendary for Amanda. It was the heartsick, love hungry guy in him who had different ideas about what counted as romantic and that underfed goblin wanted all the rules thrown out of the window, even if they were ones Eddie had insisted on. That green and greedy bastard who lived in his heart demanded longer conversations. It didn’t want to wait until Friday night or Saturday morning to see Amanda, with her soft curves which he had recently discovered looked just as lovely in flowy dresses as they did in tight jeans, making Eddie thank a god he didn’t believe in for the hard work of the Jordache company.

No, the already attached barnacle, the needy slice of his personality, wanted to wake up every morning with arms, soft and warm, curled around him. Amanda’s arms. And it required a goodnight kiss from Amanda’s sweet lips, no longer satisfied with a whispered wish of sweet dreams through the breaking, beige knot of curling cord that stretched tightly from the trailer’s kitchen to his bed. But Eddie was trying to deny that feral critter. He had to or the damnable thing would take over his body and mind, saying or doing something stupid, way too soon for either of them to be comfortable. Something that might spook Amanda, something that he might regret.

Because Eddie Munson wasn’t ready for this thing with Amanda Patterson to end. To be over. Not so soon. Not when there was still so much to see and do and talk about together. Gnawing on his already shredded cuticle, Eddie worried at his nail, mind going as fast as a Hetfield guitar solo and twice as loud. If he really let himself break it down, Eddie supposed that he could charge the over eager attachments he formed with all creatures in need, great and small, on his lacking, slacking parents. Wayne, the best man in Indiana and possibly the world, had gifted him with stability as a kid. A much needed anchor in the swirling sea that was young Munson’s life until that point, but even the patient grit of his uncle’s love couldn’t quite scrape away the sticky residue of being leaveable. Of being left. Of being easy to walk away from.

Eddie did not want to think like that, he didn’t. Because he had worked hard to keep those idle thoughts out of his brain. But like an invasive plant, they managed to crowd his mental garden, taking over whatever good seeds were sown in love or friendship.

It was the kudzu of bad thoughts that he liked to blame for driving a wedge into all of his important relationships, blanketing the peace and happiness that he craved with waxy green leaves that choked and strangled in their desperate climb towards the light. Sure, he fought against it. Hacked away at it bit by bit, and in time, some love had taken root. And yea, he could thank the people who put in the time; Wayne, Dustin, Robin and Steve, hell even Nancy Wheeler and the Hellfire guys. But, credit where credit is due? Those connections flourished in the sandy soil of his heart mostly because Eddie was one helluva gardener. That reminded him, he should put killer plants in his next campaign, Eddie thought quickly, grabbing for a napkin and Sharpie marker that he swiped from Family Video, “Little fuckers won’t see that coming.” It struck him right then. As he was tucking the now defiled and scribbled upon tissue into his vest pocket, Eddie realized just how lost he was for Amanda. Knew with a fatal certainty that his heart was planting seeds with deep, thirsty roots. Growing a field of wildflowers for a woman he’d known, what, two weeks? Only, if he was honest with himself, he knew it was a lost cause at the diner when they kissed over vanilla milkshakes. Maybe he knew it before then, Eddie considered, teeth toying with his fingernail now. From the second they met, her impossibly amazing eyes catching his own as Amanda grabbed him, holding on for dear life, instead of tumbling to the ground at his feet. Or, most likely of all, when that voice of hers dripped like honey, wrapping Eddie in a smothering blanket of loveliness that he still hadn’t been able to shake off. Yea, he nodded to no one but himself, the sound of Amanda’s singing had pulled him under like a mermaid mirage and he had gone willingly into the deepest end of the ocean for just one more note. And that is why he was breaking his own rule about waiting until the weekend.

Because when Amanda had called after tonight’s practice, her normally full and pleased voice was tight and thin. Because when Eddie asked what was wrong he heard the two breaths she took and could picture how her brain flashed from keeping him out of it to letting him in. Because when Amanda told him she’d had an awful night, Eddie gave the only answer he could, “I’ll be right there.” Now, despite the lateness of the day, Amanda was running into a gust of autumn air that tugged her hair wildly and scoured her cheeks raw. Passing in front of the van’s headlights, she paused just long enough to smile at him, lit up golden against the India ink night. Eddie returned the look, leaning over the console to pop open the door, welcoming his girl, as she surely was in his mind anyway, into the warm van, “Hey gorgeous.” Before he could retreat to the driver’s seat, Amanda’s cold hands were tugging against the patched denim cut, keeping him on her side of the cab. Lips that Eddie dreamed about pressed to his own and as much as his manliness might want to deny it, he groaned against her mouth, pleased at her wanting him so recklessly. There was something else in the kiss that Amanda greeted Eddie with, something bitter, something sad, and it shook him up to realize that she’d been crying. That’s why he slowly pulled away from her upturned face, his ringed right hand curling to match the curve of her cheek, “Mandy, is- is everything ok?” With shining eyes and her bottom lip pinned between her teeth, Amanda shook her head, nearly sobbing, “No. Nope. Not even like a little bit.” “Oh baby, I’m sorry.” Letting her forehead lay against Eddie’s, his coarse curls curtaining them both, Amanda inhaled heavily, “Not your fault, just, stupid shit but, well-” Now she looked up at him with a trembling bottom lip and shiny trails over her cheeks making Eddie’s thoughts jump between murderous anger at whoever did this to his girl and comforting marshmallow softness for the pain she was in.

He settled on an encouraging head nudge, urging her to continue, “-I think I have to leave the band.” “What?” Her sigh was a wretched, wet thing and Eddie saw the effort it took for Amanda to steady herself, closing her eyes as she repeated, “I’m not going to be in the Indiana Four anymore. I, uh, I have to quit” The last word cracking through a shallow sob. A million questions flooded Eddie’s brain. This was a big deal. Huge even. And Eddie wasn’t about to make it worse for Amanda by asking any of them out loud right now. Swallowing his own need for clarity, Eddie brushed his thumb across Amanda’s bottom lip, his personal favorite, and hummed, “Hey, hey, you’re ok. I got you, baby. It’ll be alright, yea?” Amanda didn’t answer in words. She merely scooted closer, her arms threading under Eddie’s, hugging him tightly. It was a few seconds before the fresh wave of tears dried up and all he did was hold on despite the damp spot on his shoulder. Like all storms do, it passed, and when it had, Amanda sighed heavily, “I’m so sorry-” “Shh, I don’t care. I just- damn, Amanda, I, like, hate seeing you so sad. It’s breaking my heart, baby.” “Don’t- don’t say shit like that, Eddie.” “Why not? It’s true.” Swallowing thickly, wiping at the twin tracks of dampness on her cheeks, Amanda huffed, “‘Cause you’re gonna make me cry again!” “Ok, ok. I won’t say anything nice to you right now.” There was a hint of mirth in his voice that he prayed Amanda would notice, a softening that Eddie was desperate to offer his lady in distress with the hopes of cheering her up a little. Sniffling, she tilted her head in that tell-tale way, biting her bottom lip to halt her half smile from growing, “Thank you for your, uh, understanding.” “No problem. It’s good to know, for like, the future. Mandy’s sad? Don’t be nice. That’ll only make it worse.” Giggling despite her heavy heart, Amanda playfully pushed against Eddie’s chest, her nose stuffy from crying, “That’s not what I said.” “Well, that’s what I heard, sweetheart. And, lucky for you, I’m pretty good at being not nice, so I think this arrangement is going to work out just fine.” Now he was openly teasing her, grateful to see that she was fighting back. It meant she was feeling better and Eddie’s heart soared for knowing he was helping. Those eyes. The ones that pinned Eddie in place, making his breath catch in his throat, were locked on to him when she said, “You’re pretty nice to me, so don’t sell yourself short, Munson.” Leaning in close, the console be damned, Eddie let his nose graze hers, “Hmm, you’re pretty and that’s nice, Miss Mandy.”

Humming, Amanda rested a palm against Eddie’s cheek, “See? That’s what I mean. You say the sweetest things.”

“What can I say? Maybe you bring it out in me?” Shaking her head, Amanda snorted out a short laugh, disbelieving but flattered all the same. Still, Eddie wasn’t entirely surprised when she changed the subject, “So, thank you for coming over. For coming to get me. I just-” her shoulders dropped as she deflated after a deep exhale, “-I want to forget about today.” Shyly he peeked at her from under the flap of fringe that hung haphazardly over his eyes, “If you wanted to, ya know, talk about it, I’m all ears Mandy.” And he saw the struggle behind Amanda’s eyes, the way she tipped her head, thinking it through. Eddie wondered if there would ever be a time when telling him about her day might be a natural, easy, thoughtless thing. Because that’s what he wanted. He wanted to be the person she ran to, good or bad. But as they sat in her building’s parking lot, the van’s motor idling loudly, Amanda biting the inside of her cheek, Eddie saw the moment she decided against sharing. Saw how she blinked away unshed tears before swallowing shakily. Watched the way she tossed her head, like she was clearing away some bad thought or another. Damn it, she’s too pretty to be sitting so far away.

“Uh, I- I appreciate the offer, Eddie. But maybe-” “Hey, I’m here whenever you need me. You know that, right?” Her head dropped, focused on her fingernails, Amanda’s voice small as she answered, “Yea. Yes. I know that, Eddie.” Taking her hand in his, Eddie squeezed it firmly, happy when she lifted her lovely face his way. “And, just so you know, I am gonna make you tell me all about it, Mandy. Just yet, if that’s ok? If you can hold onto it for a little bit longer, I uh, I think it’ll be worth it.” “Sounds like you have a plan, Ed.” A tentative smile, damp at the corners, broke through the mask of pain she was carrying. It felt like a gold medal win to Eddie.

Of course he did. Eddie had already spent too much time thinking about how to spend this stolen night with Amanda. He knew what his body wanted, what his brain wanted, but now, it wasn’t the time for all that. There was another option, something different, something social. But only if Amanda was up for it. “Yea, maybe? Maybe I do. Might be more of a distraction. Dunno if it’ll work yet, but it's worth a try.”

“Just want to be where you are, Eddie. That’s all.” And even though she was resting her head against the seat with her eyes shut, he still felt like she was watching, waiting. For him to deny her, maybe? He wasn’t sure.

So, Eddie did what came naturally, pressing a kiss to her forehead, one to the very tip of her nose, “Sounds good to me, Miss Mandy.”

The radio was on low, barely audible over the van’s heater which was working really hard at filling the space with warmth, but all Eddie could hear was Amanda’s tiny moans of relief that ebbed out of her with every peck. Somehow that made her lighter, unburdened, as he kissed lightly over the features of her face. He was starting to think that he was the cause of that small, satisfying sound. And Goddess above, but he wanted to hear it again. Soon Amanda was leaning into the palm of his hand, being petted like a contented kitty cat, soft and warm. He hated to do it, disrupt the peace, but he was going to need both of his hands to drive carefully enough that his precious passenger side cargo was safe. Though it went against all of his instincts, Eddie subtly lifted her chin, waiting for those eyes to flutter open, finding him in the pale dashboard light. This kiss was firmer, fiercer maybe, and Eddie allowed himself to steal a bit more of her taste with every pass of his tongue. If he was trying to wipe away some of her heartache and take it for himself, so what? Amanda didn’t object. It was the opposite, in fact, because her petal lips parted giving him the green light to kiss her properly.

With his tongue moving slowly, rhythmically, his hands cradled the back of Amanda’s head, her hair tangling under his touch. She tilted, attempting to offer him the exposed column of her throat, but Eddie held firm, steady. He wanted- no, needed, to show her how much he could care. Eddie took control and Amanda let him. Pouring his feelings into her like he could fill her up, refreshing what today had wilted, Eddie carefully, consciously, guided Amanda with gentle hands. Tipping her head back, swallowing her shallow whimpers, he damned the way his van was built. It kept him from getting his hands on her the way he wanted to and the denial was frustrating. She felt it too, her own hands flexing, uselessly, unsure of where to touch Eddie. The sounds Amanda made, music in their own right, became higher pitched, whinier, the longer Eddie limited where and how she could move. Entirely at his mercy, when she melted into him, a strangled sob, “Eddie, please.” it took all the willpower he possessed to keep his ass in the driver’s seat. Breaking away was hard but Eddie was harder. He couldn’t help the raw want that Amanda created in him. She was vulnerable, open and she was here, with him. Letting Eddie Munson kiss her, touch her, talk to her. The seeds in his heart were sprouting already.

Still, if he didn’t stop now, they were going to be late. And Eddie would hate for Amanda to make a bad first impression. Reluctantly, he thumbed at her bottom lip, his fingers lifting her chin, “I’m sorry, sweet thing, but we have to get a move on.” Petulant, Amanda huffed out her short lived displeasure. Her lids were heavy against the heightened color of her cheeks. Eddie hadn’t thought she could look more beautiful, yet, here she was, begging him for more without making any noise. It would have been much too easy to pull her to his chest and never let her go. Battling with his greedy gargoyle, Eddie shook his head, giving Amanda a shy grin, “Sit back, huh babe? And, here-” leaning across her, Eddie snagged the shoulder belt, pulling it snugly over Amanda, “-lemme get you buckled in.”

“Ok, yea. Thank you. Ya know, for everything, Eddie.” There was no fight in her now, just comfortable compliance while she let Eddie baby her a bit. She was still riding a wild combination of elation and heartbreak, Eddie knew that, but he couldn’t help staring at the pretty girl in his front seat. Linking his hand with hers, squeezing her fingers, “For you, Mandy? Shit. I’d do anything.”

—

Amanda was dreaming. She was so sure that what was happening couldn’t possibly be real life, because her life wasn’t like this- full of secret smiles and silly in-jokes. Tiny touches that bordered on too much, lingering kisses that were definitely not enough. This had to be someone else’s life. Only, when she pinched herself, the vibration of pain was real. She had waited approximately ten seconds to call Eddie once she'd gotten home from the disaster practice, flinging her bag off in a huff and collapsing onto her tragically broken-in couch. Even Armando the Wonder Cat knew to steer clear, his one good eye looking her over before deciding to retreat into the bedroom. Amanda couldn’t blame him. The waves of despair, anger and sadness kept rolling over her. So, for ten seconds she deliberated. Make the call or don’t. Dial him up or wait around for his nightly call. And she only let her mind go for ten seconds because Amanda was not the sort of lady who put their problems on other people. Her life was entirely the opposite, really. She held the secrets of the folks around her, burdened with their picadillos and problems like an emotional pack animal on a mountainous trail. Having learned through painful trial and egregious error that sharing her own worries was too much to expect in former friends, Amanda didn’t want to unload a no good, terrible, horrible, very bad day onto a guy who she’d only been seeing for what, two weeks now? Still, she needed someone to hear her side of the story. To commiserate. To sympathize with where Amanda was coming from and validate her choices. To distract her or make her feel better, hell, maybe both?

Plus, she reasoned, Eddie was very easy to talk to, something he proved at the diner and during every conversation since then. That alone was enough to pick up the handset and circle the dial. Sure, her fingers nervously drummed along the tattered wool plaid of the couch’s arm as she waited through ring after ring after ring, but the reward was hearing Eddie’s mid-range rumble when the receiver connected, “Big Ed’s House of Horrors! We scare because we care! How can I haunt you tonight?” He sounded so happy. So full of life and warmth and all the lovely things that for an over long second Amanda couldn’t speak. Wouldn’t, knowing that she had the power to put out his beautifully blazing fire with the rain cloud of her shitty night. “Amanda? Is that you? Are you ok?” There was genuine worry in his voice and that cracked through the fog of her self doubt. Shaky but forcing herself to sound light-hearted, she managed, “Hey Eddie.” Eddie was not buying what she was trying to sell, because he sounded even more upset when he asked in a rushed tone, “What’s wrong, babe?” “Just-” pausing to drag in a ragged breath then another, Amanda barely managed to keep the sob inside herself, “-a real shitty day.” “I’ll be right there.” She hadn’t even had to ask him. Eddie just came. And when she was inside his van she thanked him with her mouth, parted and plush, feeling herself relax just being near him. Taking charge, Amanda gladly relinquished her head and heart to whatever Eddie Munson had in mind. Settling back into the seat, she felt the press of his fingers against her own, happy to be in this place with someone who was just for her. Only for Amanda, utterly and entirely. She didn’t ask any questions when Eddie pulled away from her place, the van rattling down the familiar streets of town. His music played, the volume lower than ever before, but Eddie’s hand never left hers, grounding them together. There was no conversation but it wasn’t weird. It was nice, calming really, and Amanda willed all of the day’s tension out of her shoulders as Eddie drove. They’d taken a turn or two, sliding onto the main drag where Family Video and the arcade flashed their glowing signs. Sensing the van slowing down, she turned Eddie’s direction, “Um, we getting groceries?” When he said he had a plan, Amanda hadn’t anticipated a trip to the market, which must have shown on her face because Eddie chuckled and lifted their knotted hands so that he could brand a kiss onto her skin, “I’m on snack duty.” “Snack duty? Snacks for what, exactly?” Sheepish now, the fringe of his bangs made those wide brown eyes look rounder than usual, “So, you can totally say no, I know you’ve had a shitty day and I don’t want to make it worse. But, it’s just, well, my friends and I, we kinda have this weekly tradition. We get a movie, some junk food and, ya know, hang out.” “Oh, shit. I didn’t mean to like interrupt your plans-” Waving a ringed hand in Amanda’s face, Eddie stalled her sentence, “No, no. Don’t. It’s not like that.” Swiveling in his seat to make sure that Amanda was really looking at him, he carried on, words falling out of his mouth faster and faster, “See, we- uh, this group of people, we’re like more than friends. They’re sorta my family? “And, we’ve been through some shit together. Real bonding type stuff, right? So, Harrington, who you’ll meet, if you want to come, which I really hope you do- anyway, Harrington is like, hey let’s do this movie night thing and whoever can come comes and if you can’t, it’s no big deal. “Only, he never buys the good snacks. It’s always microwave popcorn and M&Ms and shit, but no sour cream and onion chips? What’s that about? And, sorry to say, but I’m a Twizzler guy and Robin, uh, yea, she’s so cool, you’re gonna like her, but like she brings Red Vines. Red Vines! So, yea-” And now that he was running out of steam, Eddie seemed to realize just how long his tirade had gone on, embarrassment tinting his cheeks pink in the glow of the store’s lit up sign as his always moving hands dropped limply, “-We need snacks, good ones, hence the grocery store trip.” Amanda had never heard anything so heart warming or chaotic in her entire life. He wanted her to meet his friends, no, his family. Grabbing for him, Amanda let her fingers notch between his, “Does that mean I can get some Goobers? ‘Cause I sorta love chocolate covered peanuts.” Watching the dimples of his smile deepen was becoming one of her favorite things, so she wasn’t disappointed when Eddie’s grin widened, “Oh, absolutely you can.” It didn’t take long to march along the aisle loaded with bags of tortilla chips, assorted tinned dips and packages of cookies. By the time they reached the check out, the basket Eddie had resting on the bend in his elbow was overflowing with rubbish treats and a two liter bottle of Mountain Dew, something he insisted was essential, before grabbing a Kit-Kat bar with a shrug, “For Robin. She’s picky.” His thoughtfulness shouldn’t be so surprising, but Amanda was continually amazed at the small gestures that came naturally to Eddie, like remembering to grab someone’s favorite candy bar. No, he seemed perfectly content to spoil everyone he knew, including Amanda. Anything that she dared to look at during their shopping spree somehow found its way into the purchase pile, which explained the box of Cookie Crisp cereal, sack of rainbow marshmallows and family size bag of pretzel twists which Eddie insisted on paying for, “Hey, lemme do this, alright?” “But there’s no way we’re going to eat all this, is there? Is there?” Amanda was half horrified, half hopeful at the prospect. Clicking his tongue as he handed off a wad of cash to the vested cashier, Eddie leaned into her ear, husking low, “All this and more, Mandy. Wait ‘til you see what Nance and Jonathan roll up with, it’s wild!” He did let her carry one of the bags, the lightest one of course, because Eddie wasn’t a jerk. Though he did bump against her hip with every step they took towards his van, the brown paper sacks rustled as she squealed playfully, “Eddie! Jeez!” “What? Is it my fault that you can’t seem to walk in a straight line?” “Hey, I can walk in a line!” “Coulda fooled me, sweet thing.” It was a comment dripping with flirtatious energy as Eddie loaded their purchases into the back giving Amanda time to eyeball the man in front of her. Frankly, she was mesmerized with how his body moved. The way his leather jacket sleeves rode up, revealing loops of chain that formed a bracelet around his wrist, a black bat, one of many, flying just under the cuff. It was striking. Something about how those hands looked so rough and raw, calloused from guitar strings, nails split from over washing because getting the grease off is hard on delicate skin. Yet, for Amanda they were also achingly gentle. Eddie’s touch was quiet, calming, even if the man doing the touching was normally a riot of movement and motion. She was so lost in the small things that made up Eddie Munson that Amanda didn’t realize he had crowded into her, the inside panel of the van’s backdoor digging into the space between her shoulder blades, those clever, distracting fingers grazing her waist. Amanda could say something. She could tell Eddie exactly where her wayward brain had wandered, but he already seemed to know. His look clouded over into something darker, duskier, and it caused the muscles in Amanda’s belly to tighten reflexively. Normally so smiley, Eddie’s jaw was tense, his breathing short. It made her think about a hungry animal that’s found its dinner, just waiting for the right second to snap their jaws shut. “Eddie?” But it’s barely a whisper. She didn’t need volume to be heard when he was standing this close, those narrow hips of his resting against her own, pinning Amanda in place.

Dropping further into her space, his nose brushing her own, “Yea, Mandy.”

Her palms skated over the busted leather of his belt, fingers hooking into the loops and tugging Eddie closer. Notching her head higher, Amanda let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a whine, licking over her lips, “Will you-” “What do you need, pretty lady? I’ll give you anything you want. Promise.” And god, he smelled so good, Amanda ground her pelvis into his, panting now, “Kiss me, yea?” “Thought you’d never ask, sweetheart.” Only, it didn’t end at kissing. Not tonight when Amanda’s mind was overloaded from worry and sadness, her body ready to take charge. Her fingers latched onto the denim vest he always seemed to have on, wrinkling the heavy fabric with her grip, needing Eddie closer and closer. Needing him inside of her where the wounds of everyday living threatened to rupture, bursting Amanda apart at the seams. Eddie’s arms posted over her shoulders, giving Amanda the chance to wrap her hands around his forearms, as he let his lips travel from her mouth to the hinge of her jaw. Biting gently at the sensitive skin there, he licked against her ear, making Amanda shiver. Deeper than she’d ever heard, Eddie grumbled, “You just taste so sweet, Mandy. Like a cupcake or some shit. Makes me think-” Sounding more than a little possessed herself, she answered innocently, “Think about what, Ed?” “How your body tastes.”

Said body reacted on instinct. Her thighs squeezed together and the breath caught in her lungs making her stutter dumbly, “Uh, wh- what?” His swagger was in full swing now that he was free to move outside of the van’s front seat. Grin showing too much teeth as Eddie looked down at her like she was on the menu, Amanda’s heart beat wildly at the idea that she just might be. “Get a room, pervs!” A shout from across the parking lot made both of their heads swivel. Eddie, shielding Amanda from anyone’s view, answered, “Go fuck yourself dickhead!” “Nice language, asshole!” From behind his shoulder Amanda heard the slam of a car door and a rapidly firing engine. The unwelcome interruption peeling off into the autumn night. Unable to suppress her giggle, Amanda drew Eddie’s attention back to herself, “Maybe they have a point?” “Yea, Mandy? What’s that, huh?” Looking around at the nearly empty parking lot, the bright lights beaming down in organized rows, she shrugged, “This isn’t really the best place to uh, get all, ya know, romantic.” Standing too close, breathing her air, Eddie pushed a shock of hair behind her ear, “I may have an answer for that.”

Who knew Amanda Patterson would love kissing in a rusting out van so much? Meeting Eddie’s scalding mouth with her own in a space smelling of motor oil and boy sweat, trying not to kick over the bags of groceries they had recently bought, Amanda considered this a sacred space. Holy. A moving monument to the feelings she could feel growing steadily stronger every time she was around Eddie.

Feelings she was nearly desperate to explore further, her hand trailing down Eddie’s back, dragging him tighter by the belt loop of his jeans. The leather was worn in, soft and supple, as she traced his waist before gripping the cooler metal of his handcuff buckle. A firm hand gripped her wrist, foggy breath unfurling against her cheek in playful pants, “Mandy? Whatcha doin’?” “Don’t you want to-” looking up at Eddie’s sweat damp skin from under her lashes, Amanda cooed her question, “-ya know?” A groaned laugh forced Eddie’s head back, his neck exposed, and Amanda didn’t hesitate to put her lips on his Adam’s Apple, sucking lightly. She could feel every inch of Eddie where his hips straddled her wide thigh, the thought making her throat dry as she mewled, “‘Cause I want to- I want you, Eddie. Please?” “Fuck, Mandy, of course I want you- want to do it. Just-” rolling onto his back and taking his warm hands and pink lips with him, Eddie stared up at the exposed metal roof, chest pumping quickly, “-not here, ya know?” Leaning up on her elbow, fingers spread wide over the expanse of Eddie’s chest, she nodded, accepting his comment quietly. And he must have recognized the bruising brittle texture of her silence because he sat up, holding her hand over his heart. “Baby, you have no idea how much I want- how much I need-” but the sentence trailed off as Eddie dragged Amanda’s palm lower, lower, lower, the hard heat of his desire undeniable. “And that’s because of, of me?” Wispy, the whisper carried over the thinning distance between her mouth and Eddie’s ear. Amanda sounded almost unsure, like she didn’t entirely believe it. Like she couldn’t believe Eddie might want her as much, in the same ways that she did, only to find out that she was dead wrong. The evidence was stiff and throbbing below her. Groaning when her fingers reflexively pushed against his straining length, Eddie gritted through clenched teeth, “Yes, Mandy. And it’s like this all the time.” Giggling, feeling a bit powerful from the knowledge, Amanda ran her nails over the stressed denim, nipping at Eddie’s collarbone through a smile. He bucked his hips into the friction, an embarrassing sound breaking from the back of his throat, “Fuck- I think you’re tryin’, tryin’ to kill me, baby.” Shaking her head ‘no’, biting her bottom lip, Amanda tipped her head like she did when there was a question worth asking hiding on her tongue, “You really do want to- with me, I mean?”

“Uh huh. Someplace nice. Soft. That, ya know, smells better than my dumpster on wheels.” Eddie gently shifted them both so they were sitting up, shoulders knocking against each other in the stillness of the grocery store parking lot, not looking at each other, but still touching. “I- I wanna make you feel special, like how you make me feel. And this-” Eddie’s hand waved at the dented walls, “-isn’t special enough. Ya know what I mean?” Her head fit perfectly into the notch between Eddie’s chin and his shoulder. Laying there, his heartbeat below her ear, a leathered arm around her back, Amanda agreed with a hum, “It’s more than ok, Eddie. It sounds pretty freakin’ great, actually.” A sweaty press of his lips to her forehead precedes the air stealing one armed hug that Eddie trapped her in, their combined laughter filling the cool cargo space.

— They were late for movie night anyway. Not by hours, but late enough that Robin was practically pacing the hallway at Harrington Manor, “Where the hell have you been, Munson? Dingus here was worried!” “Worried? No. No way. And you’re the one who was pacing by the door, waiting for a Kit-Kat, not me.” Steve’s response came from deeper in the house, maybe the kitchen, and it sounds defensive against Robin’s obvious and erroneous assertion. Eddie knew it was all an act though. Robin liked to fuss over him and Steve liked to fuss along with her. It was part of being loved by this motley crew of fantastic people, having a mom and dad who were actually years younger, but cared with all their hearts. “Uh, sorry? I had to pick up a stray.” God, he loved the reaction that got. Stopping dead still, Robin’s bright eyes flared comically, “You- you brought someone to movie night? STEVE!! Get in here!!” “What? What happened?” Steve slid into the foyer on socked feet, knocking into Robin clumsily, worry lines etched into his handsome face. “Munson has a date.” Her tone was playful, an ashy eyebrow lifted in cartoonish glee as Robin grinned at the metal head still standing in the doorway. Steve’s head whipped toward his friend, luscious locks flying, all traces of fear erased. In their place genuine curiosity bloomed, “You do? Uh, you did? Tell us man! Who is this mystery date?” “Can I put this shit down first?” He felt Amanda’s fingers tense in his grip, Eddie’s posturing keeping her out of view for another few seconds while he balanced his two bags of junk food. “Nuh uh. Spill the beans.” “Don’t listen to Robin man, give me that.” Steve swooped in, taking one of the bags from Eddie’s arms and moving back down the hall to give everyone a little more room. It allowed Eddie to pull Amanda forward, her natural shyness keeping her wrapped snugly around the taller guy, as he tried to get past Robin without dropping anything. “Guys, this is uh, this is Amanda Patterson. Mandy, these are my um, obnoxious friends, Steve and Robin.” “Hi.” Smacking Eddie’s arm loudly, Robin practically squealed, “Eddie! She’s so cute! You’re so cute! Are you sure you’re with this guy?” “Ouch! Hey Buckley, I’m standing right here and can totally hear you.” She just rolled her eyes, grabbing Amanda by the arm and dragging her towards the palatial dining room, away from where Steve was unloading the treats Eddie had delivered. Eddie let her pass, flashing a small but encouraging smile in her direction as Amanda was yanked away, Robin’s mouth already going a mile a minute with questions and quips. He already missed her. “So?” Steve was leaning across the marble countertop, his elbows supporting his weight as he stared smugly at his friend. Grabbing for a glass, Eddie answered over his shoulder, “So what, Steve?” “How long has this-” he moved his hands between Amanda, caught up in Robin’s web and unable to get away, and Eddie, “-been going on?” Obviously, there were going to be questions. Eddie knew that and thought he had prepared for the inevitable interrogation that bringing Amanda to movie night would inspire. Still, the dramatic demon that lived inside of him wanted to drag this out, really savor the moment where he did what so many of the people around him thought was impossible: bring home a girl. So, Eddie took his time filling the glass with ice and slowly opening the electric green bottle of soda, keeping an even gaze on Steve the entire time. Only when he was satisfied with the fizzing head on his drink, did he slurp down a sip, shrug, and answer, “Uh, like two weeks now I guess.” “Two weeks!” It wasn’t shouted, but it was as close as Steve could get before drawing Robin’s attention. “Yea?” “Well, were you gonna tell us about her? About your girlfriend?” Girlfriend. The word alone conjured up images of high school dances and misguided make out sessions under the bleachers. But was there a better word? Damned if Eddie could think of one. “I just did, Steve.” “No, like when? When were you going to tell us that you met someone?” Stretching back, Steve took another good look over Amanda, now pouring a bag of Doritos into a dish on the dining room table, before adding with an appreciative air, “A very pretty someone with a great butt-” “Hey. Eyes on me, Cassanova. You’re my friend so I’m gonna give you that one, but that's the only time I wanna hear about you looking at Amanda’s ass.” Surrendering, Steve lifted his hands with a smirk that was too handsome by a mile, “Fair enough. But like, what’s the deal with Mandy? You guys really a serious thing?” Eddie let his hip carry his weight, shifting so he could spy on her and Robin, “Yea. Yea, man. I think we are. Remember that uh outdoor concert thing?” When Steve nodded, crunching around a handful of pretzels, Eddie’s stare met his friend’s, “I went for her. I mean, I had already bumped into her at The Music Shop and she told me about her show, so- I went.” “Aha! Henderson told me there was a girl involved, but then, you never said anything. Figured he was full of shit.” Eddie’s hair shook as he laughed lightly, “Nope. Kid was dead on with that. Anyway, I’ve sorta been seeing her ever since that night.” Once more, Steve’s eyes traveled from his old friend to Amanda and he wasn’t entirely surprised to see that her own gaze was locked on the leather and denim clad dude already adding more Mountain Dew to his glass as if Eddie was a knight from one of those novels he loved so much. He knew the look. Steve had been on the receiving end of it more times that he could count, speaking volumes silently and boy, was he happy for Eddie. “Wow. That’s- shit, man, I’m happy for you.” “She’s totally amazing, Harrington. I-” nervousness crept into the older guy’s voice as he peered down at the beige tiled kitchen floor, “-I don’t want to fuck it up.” Smooth and slick, Steve swung around the island counter, elbowing him roughly in order to get his full attention, “You won’t man. You won’t.” “You sure about that? Us Munson’s do have a way of-” “No. No way. I’m not gonna hear that shit. The only Munson you are connected to is Wayne, and he’s one the best men I’ve ever known. He took you in, after all.” and when he saw that his joke had landed, Steve bumped Eddie again, “You’re my friend, man. You deserve good things.” “Shit, why do you have to say stuff like that?” “What? You get choked up on me?” “Nope. Never.” But it was clear that he had. Something about Steve pointing out that maybe, just maybe, Eddie Munson was good enough for a girl like Amanda made him believe it too. “Good. Hey, Mandy? What kind of movies do you like?” With a wicked grin, Steve picked up a bowl of popcorn and headed straight towards Eddie’s girlfriend. — Robin Buckley could talk. Thankfully, Amanda was an immaculate listener. The entire time that Eddie stood by the large stainless kitchen sink, Robin was rambling, moving from one topic to another seamlessly, stopping just long enough to draw breath. But, honestly, it was refreshing. Amanda found that she had things to add to the tirade that flowed constantly, asking her own questions here and there, including, “How long have known-” “Eddie? God, years. I mean, we went to high school together, but then, Eddie was in high school way longer than anyone should ever truly be. He told you that, right?” without waiting for a response, Robin carried on, “Anyway, I knew Stevie first. We worked together at the mall, slinging ice cream and busting balls. Then, well, some shit happened but he and I became platonic life partners and have remained entirely co-dependent since then.” “And Eddie-” “Oh, well, Eddie joined our group a bit later, but hey, ya know, the more the merrier. Honestly, he’s just the best guy, ya know? Of course you do, obviously, you’re like dating him or whatever. Wait, are you dating?” There was a longer pause this time as it appeared that Robin was actually expecting an answer, so Amanda dipped her head, a pleased pull on her lips, “Yes. Yea, we are. We have been since-” “Good! I mean, he’s been by himself for so long. Not like, alone alone, more like just solitary, ya know what I mean? Steve, he meets girls all the time and-” she rolled her eyes at the romantic debacles of her buddy, “-is still searching for his soulmate or whatever, but Eddie, he’s just been biding his time. Maybe-” This time Amanda cut in, “Maybe waiting for the right woman?” Snapping her fingers, Robin grinned broadly, “Yes! Exactly!” She felt the weight of Eddie’s eyes and turned to find Steve looking her way. And yes, Amanda wouldn’t deny that he was a pretty boy, all swooping hair and fine features, but she could honestly say that he wasn’t her type at all. At least not anymore. Now she wanted something rougher. Untamed. Wild and free with a deep soul. Amanda wanted Eddie Munson. Swallowing, she willed her mind to refocus on Robin’s rambling, but Steve interrupted, calling out, “Hey Mandy, what kind of movies do you like?”

“Uh, Oh, well, I like all kinds really.” “Top three, go!” It was Robin’s favorite way to vet new people and Amanda felt like it was a test, one she didn’t want to fail for Eddie’s sake. “Ok, wow, um, Casablanca, that’s like a classic.” Robin and Steve shared a happy glance. It was obviously a good choice and a sign of Amanda’s excellent taste in movies. But she was into more than that and thought it about for a second, nibbling on her bottom lip before adding, “I really liked Caddyshack, if I’m being honest.” Steve gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. Robin wrinkled her nose. Apparently comedy was a dividing topic. “And, shit, I guess I’d have to say Star Wars. But, like all three of them. Princess Leia is a total badass.” “Oh my god. She’s perfect.” There was awe in Robin’s tone as she made her declaration, staring at Steve with her hands clasped to her chest. Agreeing with a tilt of his head, Steve grinned at Eddie, “Absolutely and totally perfect. Munson, you have to like, I don’t know, marry her. Right now. If you don’t-” Eddie stepped further into the room at that moment, his arm curving protectively around Amanda’s waist, his voice full of friendly warning, “Do not finish that sentence, Steve.” “I’m just saying!” Eddie pulled Amanda closer and she let herself tuck into his side, cheeks hot from the insinuations of his friends. Still, she couldn’t help sassing back, “What makes you think we aren’t already married, huh?” That stunned the dynamic duo into shocked silence and despite knowing that they weren’t related, the look on their faces was so similar that Amanda could have sworn Steve and Robin were siblings. “What?” “No way!” Simpering, Amanda looked up at Eddie, “Do you want to tell them, darling? Or should I?” Those damn dimples deepened, a clear sign that Eddie was on board with her plan for messing around with his friends. Both of his arms twined around Amanda, dragging her as close as possible and his impish gaze never left her eyes, “Yea, ok, Mandy. You’re right, honey. We should just tell them everything, right?” “Uh huh.” She lifted up on her toes to press a small kiss to his cheek, snuggling into Eddie’s embrace and really selling their ruse. Turning to face a silent and still Robin and Steve, Eddie cleared his throat, his tone pitched to seriousness, “You guys-” looking at Amanda who nodded reassuringly, he carried on, “-you should know- what first class suckers you are!” A shower of tossed popcorn met their announcement as Steve yelled, “You shit head! I- We, like, really believed you! Both of you!” Robin’s face had gone over red, her loud laugh echoing around the well appointed room, “Shit, Eddie. That was a good one. You two- you’re both troublemakers, aren’t ya?” Groaned out laughter filled the space and Amanda put her hands up in surrender, “I couldn’t help it. You guys were just asking for it, but like, sorry if it was too much.” “No, Mandy. It was, ya know, right in line with the sorta crap Munson’s always pulling.” Steve gently shoved his friend, adding, “Any chance he has to make things memorable, he’s gonna take it.” “Hey, it was her idea! I just ran with it. So-” bowing deeply at Amanda, Eddie grabbed her hand as he straightened up and kissed her knuckles, “-bravo, my lady. Well played.” And the theater kid that lived dormant inside Amanda preened, “Why thank you, sir. Twas nothing.” “Jesus, Robs, there’s two of them now.” “Yea, how are we gonna live through this?”

— Jonathan and Nancy arrived shortly after, equally as excited to meet Amanda, and carrying a sack of homemade cookies from Mrs. Wheeler along with two large pizzas. Catching Amanda’s eyes from across the room, he nodded their direction and mouthed silently, “told you so.” Shaking her head as she bit into the fat of her bottom lip, Amanda handed a plate over to Robin, asking for a slice. Even at a distance Eddie could feel the thing that tied them together. Connected to each other despite sitting on opposite sides of the room, he found that anytime his face sought hers, he found it. Smiling, laughing and once even spitting soda from her mouth after one of Steve and Robin’s Scoops Ahoy stories got out of hand. Now, Nancy was almost interrogating his girl in the very specific way she had, making every question seem like it was going to be on the midterm final. Jonathan had offered a thumbs up when Amanda wasn’t looking, a small gesture that Eddie appreciated for its simplicity. Steve was playing host, enjoying running around and refilling drinks for everyone while Robin was doing her best to distract him from blatantly staring at this ethereal creature who was full of sweet smiles and thoughtful inquiries to the people he loved the most.

It made Eddie feel grounded, right, having her here with these guys. Friends who had seen him at his very best and very worst. That they liked her as much as he did was the cherry on top of his sundae. And they even managed to keep the theatrics to a minimum, opting instead to settle in for movie night instead of sharing shameful stories or flipping through awkward photo albums from days gone by. Honestly, it was a bit of a relief. Tonight’s movie selection was in Harrington’s hands and they were out of vetoes, so his choice was unchallenged per the rules of their friendship. And while not everyone was over excited to see One Crazy Summer, as a group they all loudly agreed to give it a chance. Eddie didn’t care what they decided to watch, he was only interested in Amanda.

Eddie was all too aware her day had ended on a sour note. When he suggested that she come to movie night he was half certain that she would say no, not wanting to be out when she was feeling so low. But what he was discovering about Miss Amanda was that she trusted Eddie. If he thought a night with his friends was going to be worth it, then she was all in. Not once had she mentioned her band. Not once had she made the conversation about her and her troubles. And she could have, absolutely, because his gang of goofballs were the type to sit through long winded explanations and offer the best advice possible. Goddess knows Eddie had used their free therapy sessions on more than one occasion. But Amanda had, instead, seemingly let go of the hurt and the pain in favor of being here, with him. She shrugged the worries from earlier off, along with her jacket, and made herself at home on the Harrington sofa. Pressing herself small against the left arm with one leg folded underneath her and ample space next to her on the cushions. Eddie could tell that she expected him to sit at her side. Had planned on it, actually. But Jonathan was already pulling Nancy into his lap, taking up the middle seat and Robin had staked her claim, draping herself over the other arm of the sofa. Steve was slipping the tape into the VCR, blabbing about how the movie blended animation and live action, and how cool that all was when Eddie dropped to the floor at Amanda’s feet. “Hey?” It was softly worded one syllable question that asked so much more. Shrugging, but smiling up at her, “I don’t mind the rug.” “You sure?” She asked because she clearly wasn’t and Eddie liked her even more because of that. “Uh huh.” Flattening his back to the couch, Eddie tipped his head up, his face framed by those wild locks. He was tall enough to let his cheek lay against the warm width of her thigh, his arm wrapping around her calf. Unable to sit still, Eddie’s fingers traced words and shapes into the exposed skin of Amanda’s ankle, a mindless movement that was rewarded with a breathy exhale from his girlfriend. After Steve plopped into the armchair, grumbling about being boxed out of the comfy couch, the opening credits rolled. There were some chuckles as the narrator started talking about fuzzy bunnies and love, so Eddie wasn’t entirely paying attention to Amanda, beyond the supple sensation of having her so close. But then he felt her fingers running through his tangle of curls.

It started at the ends, Amanda twirling a strand or two around her index finger before letting the spiral unravel, only for her to do it again. Then she was raking back the soft tendrils, almost petting him like a shaggy dog, and it took all of Eddie’s self control not to start drooling like one. He was barely holding it together, the grip on her ankle tightening, until her fingernails dragged over his scalp. The tender touch sent electricity pulsing through his body, all that energy landing in the most conspicuous location making him squirm. Eddie felt it was only fair to return the favor, letting his warm palm ride higher under the hem of her jeans, sometimes using the rough edges of his fingernails to apply added pressure. She didn’t move away, in fact, it seemed like Amanda sought out more of Eddie’s barely there brushes, wiggling closer as the movie progressed. By the time the credits rolled on Demi Moore and John Cusack’s happy ending, Eddie’s head was laying in Amanda’s lap, her leg draped over his chest. Robin was asleep, had been since somewhere around the mid-way point of the flick, but then, so was Jonathan. The awake members of the party looked at each other, stifling a giggle. “I don’t know how she does it. Robin can sleep through anything, I swear.” Her platonic life partner ran a rough hand through his hair, looking down at her fondly. Nancy nodded at their slumbering friend, “Yea, but she’s cute and quiet when she’s knocked out.” Amanda leaned over, hoping only Eddie could hear her, and whispered, “Uh, think you can let me up for a trip to the ladie’s room?” “Nope. Sorry. I’m too comfortable.” And Eddie managed to snuggle in tighter, hugging Amanda’s leg to his chest, his cheek at the bend of her knee. Her giggle was quiet enough that it wouldn’t disturb the sleepers as she drawled, “Don’t make me laugh! I have to pee!” Of course, that made Eddie cling all the harder. Groaning at the precious public display of affection, Steve butted in, “I don’t want any accidents in here Munson. Let the poor girl up.” “Fine. Fine.” It was reluctantly said as he rolled to the side, giving his girl the chance to stand up. She used the top of his head as a ballast, steadying herself, as she asked their host, “Uh, which way?” Steve pointed down the hall, following Amanda’s retreating form with his thirsty eyes before turning to Eddie, “She seems really great man, like way out of your league.” A snort from the couch let him know that Nancy was also listening in, so Eddie tipped his head in that direction, “What? You agree with Sir Steve?” “Actually, no. I don’t. I think she’s kinda perfect for you. And honestly, it doesn’t matter what I think.” That made Eddie sit up straighter, already on defense, “Well, I was hoping to bring her around more and if you guys don’t-” “No, you misunderstood me. It doesn’t matter what I think because it’s pretty obvious.” Eddie exchanged a befuddled glance with Steve who shrugged, “What’s obvious?” “You’re clearly in love with her already.” Getting punched in the face would have been less dramatic to his psyche. Eddie immediately recognized that what Nancy was saying was the honest to goodness truth because that was her way, direct and to the point, but that didn’t make it easier for the boy from the wrong side of town to hear. Or believe. Or trust. Love didn’t come easy to a guy like Eddie. Guys with absentee parents who faded into memory long before lessons about connection could be learned. Guys who found their family through battle and blood, sacrifice and scars, not genetics. And any time he had even considered loving someone it managed to go south, and fast. “Shh! She could hear you!” Rolling her eyes, Nancy, still trapped in Jonathan’s sleepy grip, turned away from Eddie, “I don’t think it’s a surprise. In fact, she seems pretty smitten too.” “Smitten! Yes! That’s the word! She’s totally smitten for you, dude.” Steve snapped his fingers happily. Drawing his knees into his chest, Eddie dropped his forehead to the bony plates there, “Guys, I don’t know if-” “Can’t you just, like, I don't know, follow your heart here man?” Looking up at Steve standing in the doorway, holding up the wall with his right shoulder, Eddie raised his eyebrows, “My heart is not the most reliable of organs, Stevie. You know this. It made me think that I had a chance with Chrissy Cunningham and look what happened there.” Nancy winced, an audible huff of surprise leaving her lips as Steve dropped into a crouch at Eddie’s side. “Hey. No. That- that was different. You know that, Eddie.” “I know what you’re saying, but, like, what if-” “What if? What if the sky falls? Or, or you get hit by a bus? Or, ya know, some other fucking awful thing happens? Are you not going to try because of ‘what if’?”

“Nancy, I don’t remember you being such a great orator before.” That made his friend smirk, full of sass when she snapped back, “Fuck you, Munson. You aren’t the only one capable of verbal glory, ya know?” That made him snicker, rebalancing a bit of the energy in the room. It also made him courageous enough to ask, “So, you guys like her too, then?” “Like her? Shit, when you screw it up, I’m going to swoop in so fast-Hey!” Eddie had pushed Steve off his feet, forcing him to the floor with a grunt and thump. The noise woke up Robin, blinking through bleary eyes, “What’s happening?” Steve had quickly maneuvered around Eddie, trying to work the boy into a headlock, only to be stalled by the placement of the couch. Swinging to his knees, Eddie, gentler this time, tackled Steve around the knees, bumping them into the coffee table and Jonathan at the same time. “What? What the hell?” His voice was froggy but that only made everyone else laugh harder. “Boys! Boys! Enough of this!” Robin’s motherly tone crept into her half hearted attempt at breaking up their roughhousing as she gingerly stepped around them. “Uh uh, Buckley!” Eddie and Steve, working together, each snagged a pant leg and before she could stop it, Robin was in the middle of a dog-pile free for all. Nancy shook her head at the noises; squealing laughter, threats to keep on tickling, a groan from one of the boys after a misplaced kick. Jonathan flopped back into the couch cushions, an amused smile on his face, as Nance skirted the squirmish, “Anyone need anything?” — Amanda washed her hands in the overly ornate sink, overcome by the well appointed space that was so pretentious in a way that Steve Harrington was not. In a shocking twist of fate, she found that all of Eddie’s friends were far kinder and welcoming than she could have imagined. Each one of the gang had made her feel accepted, and not just because Amanda was with Eddie. An excited smile reflected back from the gilded mirror. Eddie. Just the thought of his relaxed, easy grin made Amanda happy. “Oh! I didn’t see you, I'm so sorry!” Opening the bathroom door, Amanda was shocked to find Nancy standing in the hallway, seemingly waiting for her. Waving her off with a raised hand, Nancy dismissed the apology, “No, I’m sorry for scaring you!” As she moved past Amanda, one hand on the ornate woodwork of the doorway, Nancy turned to face the newcomer, “Uh, Amanda?” “Yea?” It took the brunette a second to crystalize her thoughts, allowing worry to slide down Amanda’s spine in the growing silence, but once she had, Nancy’s searching eyes found Amanda’s. In a steady voice, she started, “Eddie- he’s, well, he’s a really great guy.” Unsure of where this was going, Amanda swallowed thickly around the lump in her throat, encouraging Nancy to continue with a wordless nod. And Nancy did, explaining in her straightforward way, “We, uh, this group, we’ve been through quite a bit together. I’m not sure how much he’s told you-” She paused, perhaps expecting Amanda to volunteer some insight into what Eddie may or may not have shared. When she didn’t offer any response, Nancy carried on solemnly, her round eyes unwavering, “-But, Eddie- he’s faced more than most and lived to tell the tale. There was a time when he almost, uh, didn’t.” Amanda absorbed the words with an anxious knot coiling in her stomach, reading the implied message there while Nancy pressed on. Facing Amanda now, a firm look on her pinched face, sharp shoulders squared, “I won’t speak for everyone in there, I can’t, it isn’t my place. But you should know that beneath all of his, his bravado, Eddie is sweet. Tenderhearted. And I wouldn’t be the only one who would hate to see him get hurt.”

There was a grittiness to the way Nancy said it, not a threat, per se, but edged with a protective venom that was impossible to ignore. If Amanda wasn’t on the receiving end of her speech, she might have found it endearing. And it was, in a semi-scary kind of way. It really spoke to the love that Eddie’s found family had for him and clearly for each other.

All Amanda could do was blush hotly at the implied meaning for Nancy’s concern. The idea that she had the power to hurt Eddie, to cause him any kind of harm, had never crossed her mind. Yet, here she was, feeling like she had been put on the spot by the curly haired woman’s directness. Desperate to defend herself and her intentions with Eddie, Amanda stumbled over the sentences, not able to get the words out fast enough, “Nancy. I, oh my god, believe me, I know. I would never hurt him. I couldn’t. I- I love him too much.” It fell out of her mouth before her wayward brain could stop itself, confessing Amanda’s heart’s deepest secret to one of Eddie’s friends as if it were no more important than asking for a beer or to pass the chips. And maybe that’s what made it feel real enough for Nancy to offer an appraising smile, tilting her head towards Amanda, “Yea, I got that feeling.” Realization about what she had admitted out loud must have shown on Amanda’s face, because Nancy laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Hey, I’m not going to say anything to Eddie. That’s something for you two to talk about-” a half smile that spoke of shared secrets flooded Nancy’s face as she tacked on cheekily, “-if you can manage to do any talking when you’re, ya know, alone together.” And then she slipped into the bathroom leaving Amanda speechless and stunned in Steve Harrington’s hallway. — Eddie left the tickle torturing of Robin to her platonic soulmate, his stomach muscles aching from laughing so hard, “A drink. I need to wet my whistle. Buckley? Harrington? You guys good?” Had he planned on tiptoeing down the hall, eager to find Amanda and maybe press a pretty kiss to lips he was suddenly desperate for? No. But Eddie did it anyway.

And he would have followed his plan to the letter if he hadn’t overheard the conversation unfolding outside of Steve’s bathroom. Instead, he found himself tucked into the adjoining room’s entryway, holding his breath because the last thing Eddie wanted to do was interrupt. Not when Nancy was treading the line between welcoming Amanda and warning her to be good to her friend. But then Amanda’s voice fluttered, rushed but strong, as Eddie heard her say, “I’m in love with him.” Him. Eddie. Amanda had told Nancy that she couldn’t imagine hurting him because she was in love with him.

That was… unbelievable. Unreal. Unfathomable.

Footsteps moved his direction but Eddie didn’t hesitate. Snagging Amanda’s arm, he tugged her into the unused room, taking her bewilderment in stride. Pushing her into the wall making the sterling framed photos there jump, Eddie caged her under his narrow hips, his mouth silencing any of Amanda’s sounds.

Hot and hungry, Eddie was greedy with his lips, licking and kissing across Amanda’s. His hands tipped her chin, moving her to where he wanted, where he had the best angle for slipping his tongue over her own, the warm wet of her mouth open just for him. And unlike their spit swapping in this van, this was fevered, frenzied. Eddie kissed her like he might never get the chance again. He kissed her with all the love he felt, safe in the knowledge of Amanda’s feelings, even if they had only been shared with his friend in a hushed confession. Feelings he shouldn’t even know about since neither he or Amanda had talked about anything as serious as loving each other. Even if he was already madly, crazy, deeply in love with Amanda. How could he deny the woman with the gorgeous voice and expressive eyes that saw more in Eddie than he could see in himself? Not possible. Not even a little bit. Breathing hotly across her ear, acting boldly, Eddie did something he never expected to do, he told Amanda what his heart could no longer hold. Between hotly huffed breaths that moved the stray hairs on her cheeks, Eddie Munson fervently husked out his declaration, “I fucking love you, you know?” Panting from having the air kissed out of her lungs, Amanda slowly opened her eyes, taking in Eddie’s face with that questioning tilt of her head, “What? What did you say?” “You heard me, Mandy. I love you.” There was no dramatics at play, no flourished hang movements or silly voices. It was raw and real and terrifying. “I love you. So much, Eddie. It’s- it’s scary.” —

They wasted no time in saying their goodbyes, Eddie practically running to grab his stuff, dragging Amanda behind him in a rush of arms and socked feet. If his friends thought it was weird, they didn’t say so. Instead, Robin had squeezed Amanda in a tight hug, “It was so nice to meet you! Please come again! Eddie, you have to bring her next time too. Promise me!” “I will, Buckley. I swear to god, I will.” He mimicked a boy scout salute, snapping to attention and making Robin laugh, “Good!” Nancy and Jonathan had lingered in the hallway while they sorted out jackets and shoes, offering waves and kind words but they let Steve walk them outside. He’d draped his arm over Amanda’s shoulder, talking to Eddie the entire time, “Henderson’s gonna want an update on this, uh, situation. You know that right?” “Who’s Henderson?” Amanda asked innocently, stopping to look up at Eddie’s profile glowing yellow around the edges from the porch lights. The trio were standing at the passenger’s side door, Eddie already popping the handle, as Steve answered, “Uh, I’ll let Munson tell you all about him. He’s one of the nuggets. Great kid, amazing hair, attitude as big as his ego.” “That’s a fair description, but, like so many things, Sir Steve, there’s a bit more to the story than that.” A look passed between the boys, something unspoken but agreed upon and Amanda had the distinct impression that she had passed a test because the next thing she knew, Steve Harrington was wrapping her up in a bear hug. “Hey, Mandy, take care of this guy, ok? We kinda like him.” Solemnly, as if she was taking a sacred oath, Amanda pledged, “I swear I’m going to take care of him, Steve.” And, taking Eddie’s offered hand, Amanda stepped into the van. Lingering, Steve shut the door for her, leaning at the window, “Good. And if Eddie doesn’t take care of you, you know where I live.” The megawatt smile that had been dropping panties for the whole of the 80’s flashed solely for Amanda’s benefit, bringing heat to her cheeks. “Hey, Harrington?” Eddie had slid into the driver’s seat but bent forward to talk out of Amanda’s window. “Yea?” “Stop flirting with my girl.”

Oh, that only made Steve’s smirk widen, the patent charm practically oozing out of him, “Fine. Fine, whatever you want Eddie.” Turning his attention back to her, Steve kissed the back of her hand chivalrously, “Amanda, Mandy, it was lovely to meet you. Hope to see you again soon.” Tapping on the door frame twice Steve added, “Oh, Eddie man? Be good.” Grinning and goofy, Eddie started the van, “Dude, you know I can’t be good, so I’ll be careful.” “And if you can’t be careful, name it after me.” They said it in unison, a chorus they had clearly repeated hundreds of times before, and even Amanda laughed at their brotherly bickering. But she got the last word. Wrinkling her nose up, swinging her head between the two goofballs, Amanda sighed, “Steve Munson? I’m not sure I like the sound of that.” Two pairs of eyeballs, stunned silent, turned her way before the cackling laughter started. Eddie threw his head back, long hair moving with every shake of his shoulders and Amanda found herself staring at the sight of his open, happy face. And Steve, recognizing that he had been dismissed, stepped away from the van, still smiling broadly, “Get outta here. Go home!”

—

Eddie only ran two stop signs before pulling up to Amanda’s apartment building. His heart was racing, the adrenaline making him feel higher than anything Reefer Rick had been lucky enough to sell, and he couldn’t hide the dimple deep smile that was plastered across his face. Amanda was in love with him! The gargoyle inside his heart was satisfied at last. Shifting into park, he twisted in his seat, already hating that he had to say goodnight. But the night wasn’t over yet, not when Amanda’s expressive eyes met his burnt brown sugar ones, “Wanna come inside?” “You’re serious?” He couldn’t help the giddy rush that fluttered through his gut at the idea of having Amanda alone in a comfortable place that hadn’t carried any of the gear or guys from Corroded Coffin. Holding out her little finger, Amanda lit up with a sweet smile, “I am. Promise.”

---

Thank you for reading! Part 3 is a work in progress!!

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