#like certain shows are cool to like in passing or to make like art or analysis About The Property that Criticizes The Property

[irregularbillcipher]

i think it's really funny when people are like "i can't take this show seriously i think it's so funny that this show has a fandom. it's like if people started shipping simpsons characters or wrote video essays about bart" or otherwise use the simpsons as an example of a show that Obviously People Don't Take Seriously. like what are you talking about. go on nohomers for three seconds to realize how insane people are about the simpsons

[carolmunson]

let's go, don't wait: part II (e.m. x f!reader)

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! series masterlist summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, phone sex, smut, oral (f receiving). some sad childhood talk, all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (19K words.)

With how easy the first date had been to make, Eddie wasn’t expecting it to be so hard to pin you down for the next one. Neither of your schedules had lined up for the rest of the week, and up until next Friday neither of you had much free time. You either had to stay at work late or he had to stay late for the three extracurriculars he was running (jazz club, D&D club, and co-runner of the school’s GSA) – which he’d only be annoyed about running if he didn’t absolutely love the kids. The extra overtime didn’t hurt either, perks of working at a rich kid private arts school.

At first he was nervous you were busy going on dates with other guys until he called you one night and he could hear your boss in the background waxing poetic about the shift to lab grown sapphires. Then he’d feel bad for feeling so accusatory to start – you’d never said anything to each other about being exclusive. Hell, you’d only been on one date. But you talked every day, and fuck did that feel good for Eddie. 

g’morning pretty  ew you’re obsessed with me. good morning, boy

He’s happy he knows you’re joking because he’s certain no other guy would get it. He knows you read his text and screamed into your pillow, cheeks hot and chest thrumming. That’s why you always have to respond so mean so that he doesn’t know how much you like him back. This backfires, because he can tell that the meaner you are, the more you like his attention.

what’s your weekend look like? i know you leave for AZ on sunday but i’d really like to see you before you go. 

You were headed to a gem trade show in Tucson on Sunday for a few days. You went every year you’d been working for your boss, you told him all about it on the phone. You’re cute when you’re excited but he didn’t want to embarrass you by saying so – just let you rattle on about all the things you get to see. You promised to send him pictures of some of the cool fossils you might come across, all of the big crystal furniture.  “You were a weird dinosaurs kind of kid, right? You’d be into pictures of fossils?" “Why are you so mean? Would you go up to nine year old me and call him a weird kid that’s into dinosaurs?” “No, he’d be so sad.” “So next time you wanna say some mean shit, imagine you’re saying it to nine year old me.” “I bet you were a cute kid,” you thought out loud, “You’re a really cute adult.” 

“You think I’m cute?” “The cutest.” His face burned at every compliment you offered him, flushing dark pink at every sweet word you said. He was a mess. Embarrassment would flood him when he’d check his phone during class, the kids would never let him hear the end of it.  “Did you meet her on Tinder, Mr. E?”  “This is not appropriate class discussion guys,” his eyes would shut tight in frustration when they’d catch him texting you back and he’d reluctantly tuck his phone into his back pocket. They were way bolder than he was at their age. “No because like, you’re so happy though. Look how you’re smiling when you text her.” “Mr. Munson’s got that W rizz.”  “Is she hot?” “Be fucking forreal. He’s blushing so hard right now.” “Smash or pass, Munson?” “Guys, can you relax? You literally have a test right now." Bzz. Bzz.

i gotta run errands on saturday and go then leave sunday night :( working late friday cause we need to take gem inventory essentially He sighed, he didn’t want to wait until next Friday to see you again. 

i could run errands with you if you’ll have me. i’ll drive! you sure? it’s not super exciting stuff. you make it exciting. :) i’ll take you out to lunch. sound good? okay :) okay :)  see you saturday, cutie omg shut up 🙄 but yeah. see you saturday. :) 

He was nervous you’d notice he got his interior detailed the night before, but he was too embarrassed to let you get into the car in its original glory. He honked the horn in three short bursts, being mindful of the neighbors even though it was around 9:30 in the morning.  You inch out of the door of your place, the first floor of a quaint three family home, in your Princess Diana best. You dressed for errands and his heart swells, leggings and a big sweatshirt, little white sneakers and socks. You look cute like this, hurrying outside with your paper Old Navy bag blowing in the wind, relaxed and laid back. But you aren’t for long, you take a step outside only to feel the chill in the ‘second winter’ air of March and raise a finger to him before running back inside — reappearing with a lightweight parka haphazardly thrown on. You patter to the car and he tries to ignore his heart rate speeding up while he leans over to open it for you. “Hey you,” he smiles, “Good morning.”  “Morning,” you say with a coy smile. His chest leans forward slightly to kiss you as you settle in but he stops short. Are you there yet? You only kissed that night last week. What if you weren’t ready to kiss again? He swallows, settling back into his seat but recognizing how his car fills with your scent. You smell so fucking good he could eat you.  “So what’s the agenda, sugar?” he asks.   “Okay, agenda: Target, Old Navy for a return,” you say, raising your bag, “I have to run into Sephora to pick up some sunscreen for my boss, and um…I think that’s it? They’re all in the same shopping center over by um – by the movie theater.”  “Oh yeah,” he nods, “I know the one.”  He reaches for the sound system, turning the volume up a little, Lamb of God’s Vanishing crunching through his speakers. He watches for your reaction and can tell you don’t know it, but you don’t seem appalled or repulsed.  “Do you have a tunes preference?” he asks, voice velvety smooth, eyes catching on your parted lips, “It’s a long drive.”  “Uh…” your knee bounces faster, “I mean it’s your car. We should listen to what you wanna listen to.”  “Honey, I’m like your Uber driver today,” he offers, head tilting while he looks over at you. Eddie’s gaze lingers on your face with soft eyes, lashes a shadow over his irises, “How’m I gonna get a five star review if you don’t like the music?” 

“I do!” you assure aggressively, “I do like it.”

“Here, I have a plan,” he nods, holding his hand out, “Gimme your phone.” 

You toss him a look which triggers an eye roll from him, “Just trust me, give me your phone.” 

“Here’s the bargain, I connect your tunes to my car,” he mumbles while he disconnects his phone from the car’s Bluetooth and connects yours instead, “But I get to pick the songs. Deal?” 

A giggle bubbles out of you, shoulders shaking loosely, “That’s ridiculous.” 

“But is it a deal?” he asks again. He takes a breath that inflates his chest, while you consider it. It’s not fair that you look so cute this morning, it’s not fair that he doesn’t have the confidence to just reach over and lay one on you like they do in the movies. He wasn’t lying when he said you were so kissable. 

“It’s a deal,” you nod. He watches your knee slow down to stopping. Eddie swallows, eyes traveling from your knees to your full thighs sitting fat in his passenger's seat with a quick scan that you don’t notice. 

“Okay, so let’s see…” he mutters, going into your music and scrolling through your artists, landing pretty early on with an enthusiastic nod that makes his waves bounce around his face. 

“Blood Brothers?” he asks, “Wow, you really did hate your dad, huh? I haven’t heard this album in years.”

“I started liking them for a boy back in high school,” you shrugged while he thumbed through the tracks, “Then started liking them forreal.” “That’s okay,” he smiles over at you, “You’d be surprised to see my Spotify wrapped every year. Never as mean and scary as you’d expect.” 

“No?” your brows raise, “Not a bunch of ‘Stabby Metal Scream Crunch Stab’ in your top ten?” 

He scoffs, settling on ‘Set Fire to the Face on Fire’, the opening Fire! Fire! Fire! leaking through the speakers, “I married the head cheerleader at my high school – I’d like to think my music taste is pretty eclectic. Metal’s just, y’know, the main course. Plenty of side dishes on my roster.” 

“You a big fan of having something on the side?” you quirk a brow at him through the rear view mirror while he puts the car in drive. He scoffs again, lips twitching up into a smirk. You’re quick and it makes his blood rush, his fingers drum nervously on the wheel while he keeps the car in place.

“Why’re you so mean, huh?” he teases, “Do I look like the kind of guy that’s had a lot of side pieces?” 

“Oh,” you start, giving him a once over, “Not even close.” 

“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” he asks, putting the car in park again. He turns down the volume, turning his body completely towards you. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” you drone, turning yourself toward him in return,  “I guess I am.” Eddie clears his throat, tongue flicking over his full lips to wet them. 

“So uh…before we hit the road,” his voice cracks, heart rattling in its cage, trapped in his chest, “D’you-think-I-could-steal-a-kiss-good-morning?” It pours out of his mouth while his body goes numb – like the bandaid was ripped off but someone else did it for him. His hopeful voice when he presents the offer sounds foreign to him, but he knows what he’s asking you. Blood rushes in his ears, the steady thump of his heart pounding through his veins. Your bottom lip tucks into your teeth, eyes shutting briefly with anticipation, a tiny chuckle huffs through your nose. Your knee starts to bounce again. 

“Yeah, but it’s not stealing if I’m letting you have one,” you reply, your own voice becoming delicate and girlish, teenage nerves coasting down your throat through the back of your neck. He leans close to you, engulfed again in the scent of your perfume, head leaning to the side slightly while your movements mirror his. Eddie brings a hand up to hold your face, keeping you steady while he goes in for the kill, one he’d been hoping to make since he saw you last. Heart stuck in his throat, he almost feels a sob shoot through his chest when his lips touch yours. It’s as soft and warm as he remembers. As soft and warm as the moment he’s been replaying in his head since last Monday. 

You both break apart but he doesn’t move away from your face, hand dropping from your cheek to your bouncing knee where he gives it a gentle squeeze, “Are you nervous?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I think maybe, yeah. But I’m excited, too. Y’know, to spend the day with you.” 

It’s his turn to feel giddy and embarrassed, a flush building steadily on the apples of his cheeks, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous, too. But it’s  just gonna be a nice, chill day, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nod, both of you wearing matching smiles. 

“I do have a rule, though,” his brows furrow, implying he’s serious. You look very seriously back at him. 

“I gotta kiss you every time you’re startin’a look a little too good,” he gives you a shrug of one shoulder before settling back into the driver’s seat while he pulls onto the road, “Cause I don’t know if you saw, but the way you look this morning is fucking illegal.” 

You let out a soft tsss from between your teeth, shaking your head while you settle back into your seat, “You’re so stupid.” 

“I’m just a man, sugar,” he tilts his head, readjusting behind the wheel before putting the car back in drive. He restarts the song before pulling onto the road, feeling like maybe this errands date would go much, much better than he’d planned. He drums on the steering wheel again, head softly bouncing along with the beat of the song while the lyrics scream through the car. You mouth along with them, staring out the window while you do. 

‘Those cold hooks, cemetery claws raking at the infant's jaws,Set fire to the horse on fire,Set fire to the dress on fire,Set fire to the stage on fire,Set fire to the stars on fire!’

“Damn, me and the band shoulder cover this,” he nods to himself, “We’d fuckin’ crush.” 

“Can you scream like that?” you ask, turning your head to face him, “I feel like I’d blow my vocal chords.” 

“Eh, sorta kinda,” he tilts his head from side to side, “I got plenty of practice. Do plenty of screaming with our own stuff, you sorta train your voice up to do it. I might not be able to scream as high but, I could harmonize with Jeff – lead guitar if you remember –” “I remember,” you smile, “And his wife Alycia.” 

“And is wife Alycia! Damn, look at you,” he smiles, “You should write my memoirs. But yeah, surprisingly Jeff can get pretty high up there – it’s super impressive.”

“Well when you cover it, I’ll come watch,” you nod, “You still haven’t really told me about your band.” 

“Corroded Coffin?” he asks, turning into a coffee shop drive-thru and pulling up behind a short line of cars, “Not much to tell. We play shows every couple weeks, in the summer every week, at a few bars around the city that are into that scene. We have fun – still play at our old stomping grounds in Hawkins, too. Same five drunks cheering us on for the last twelve years.” 

His eyes widen at the realization, “Twelve years, Jesus. I’m so fuckin’ old.”   

“Oh, thank god I only have two years until I’m fuckin’ old,” you laugh, “You don’t look old.” 

“You don’t look old either,” he smiles, giving you a once over that you immediately feel shy under, “What can I get you?” 

“Oh no, no,” you shake your head, reaching for your wallet in your Old Navy bag, “I’ll get it, seriously. You’re driving me.” 

“No, please, I’ll get it,” he says, pushing your hand down gently while you offer your card. 

“I wanna pay for it, you’re already going out of your way to do all this boring shit,” you offer again. He plucks your card from your fingers and flicks it into the backseat. He shrinks when your smile falls, you’re very obviously not taken by his actions. 

“Look,” he shrugs, voice lowering, “I didn’t wanna say anything cause I didn’t know how you’d react. But this location actually doesn’t accept money from women. I know, crazy right? So sexist. Its so gross of me to still go here when it’s totally against all my shit. But since they don’t accept any payments from women, I’m gonna have to pay or else we can’t get coffee.” 

You roll your eyes but can’t hold back your laugh, “Fuck, why do you have to be funny about it?” 

“You think I’m funny, huh?” he grins, pulling up to the microphone box. 

“Yeah, funny lookin’,” you tease. Eddie ‘tsks’ a few times with a shake of his head, looking back at you. 

“What can I get you?” he asks again. 

“Medium, iced, caramel. Almond milk if they have it, regular if not,” you respond, crossing your arms. He orders and can feel your eyes on him, he wants to turn back around and kiss that pout right off your lips. You’re not used to having someone take care of things and he can tell, you don’t like it either. Or at least you don’t know how to let yourself like it. Two givers stuck in a car running errands with each other – he wonders if you’ve ever known how to take. 

He gets the coffees, yours with your milk and flavor, his iced and black. You say thank you when you take it, there’s something about your face when you do, a softness he feels like he’s not supposed to see. 

“Hey, you know my rule,” he says, leaning in again, “You’re startin’ to look at little too good right now.” 

Your embarrassed smile says enough when you close the gap between the two of you, lips pressing together in a soft and gentle peck. 

“Thank you,” he expresses, big brown eyes looking into yours before pulling back onto the streets. He turns the sound system up again, the opening of Cam’ron’s Hey Ma flows through the speakers, he nods enthusiastically. 

“Another banger,” he exclaims. 

“You know this song?” you ask with surprise. 

“I grew up in a trailer park, baby. You hear a lot of different music out there,” he shrugs. Eddie feels his throat choke up when he realizes he called you baby. But at least if you hated it, you weren’t showing any sign that you did. 

“Got drops. Got coupes. Got trucks. Got jeeps. Alright, 'cause we gon' take a ride tonight So ma. Wassup? Let's slide. Alright. Alright, and we gon' get it on tonight.” He likes that you’re impressed that he knows the words, of course he does. He grew up hearing this song all of summer 2002, running through the hose with the little kids, while his old baby sitters sat out in lawn chairs to work on their color. Playboy Bunny stickers on their hip bones to show off their tan lines. 

You both sing the opening verse to the windshield, windows coming down an inch as you turn onto the parkway, voices booming over Juelz Sanatana’s. 

“Now I was down town clubbin’, ladies night, Seen shorty she was crazy right, And I approached baby like, ‘Ma, what’s your age and type?’ She looked at me and said, ‘Yous a baby right?’” He hits the last red light before the long stretch of the drive, turning to you to deliver a passionate line reading of the lyrics. He’s surprisingly smooth, even impressing himself at how actually cool he’s being about it. 

“I told her, I’m eighteen and live a crazy life, Plus I’ll tell you what the 80s like, and I know what the ladies like, Need a man that’s polite, listens and takes advice. I can be all three, plus I can lay the pipe. Come with me, come stay the night.” 

He winks when he finishes the line and by the way you stop singing, he knows he’s got you flustered. You are easy. He wants to see how much easier it is. 

“You better be careful,” you warn, tongue caught between your teeth. “Yeah? I better be careful?” he grins, car pushing forward when the light changes so he can turn onto the highway. 

“You’re trouble, Munson,” you shake your head, turning your attention back to the stretch of asphalt ahead of the both of you, “You’re big trouble.” 

“She looked at me laughin’ like, ‘Boy your game is tight.’ I’m laughin’ back like, ‘Sure, you’re right.’” 

“D’you need a cart?” Eddie asks, taking a side step over to the push carts neatly pushed into each other in between the double doors of Target. 

“Nah, if I get a cart I’m just gonna use it as an excuse to buy more stuff,” you pull a face, shoulders dropping dramatically, “And while I’d love to have an excuse to buy more stuff, I just need a basket.” “Basket it is,” he grins, hand wrapping over the hard plastic of one of the handles, tugging a basket loose from where it’s encased with its brothers. You reach your hand out, taking a step closer to the entrance, our step triggers the automatic doors and he files in after you. 

He looks at your outstretched hand behind you and then up at your face, “I can hold it, Ed.” 

He gives you a small shake of his head, “Nah, I’ll carry it. You lead the way. What’s on your list?”  “I mostly just need to get travel stuff…like toiletries,” you think out loud, “I guess this wasn’t really much of a big errand now that I think about it.” 

“That’s okay,” he says, and he means it. 

You don’t go straight to the beauty section. You’re taken by the $5 and under shelves at the front of the store, full of small decor knick knacks that he recognizes from his own apartment. This is where Tati’s always picking up those little gold tchotchkes for the coffee table and bookshelves every other month. The same way Chrissy would always have new, tiny holiday themed pieces every year to sneak onto their mantle.

“So, do you want me to keep you on task?” he asks, falling in step next to you, watching your fingers toy over a felted bunny figurine for Easter, “Or do you want me to aid in you not being on task?” 

You look over at him, eyes scanning over his frame. He catches the way your eyes linger on the way his t-shirt fits him under his leather jacket and denim vest. Dark olive green, a touch too tight in the chest, collar worn out just enough so that the ends of his collar bones peeked through. 

“We have all day, right?” you smirk. 

“All day,” he nods, “You a walking through the aisles type of girl?” 

“Is that a deal breaker?” you ask, attention captivated by a lavender ceramic pencil holder in the shape of a rainbow. 

“No, not at all,” he assures, taking you by surprise when he presses a kiss to your temple, “I’m a walking through the aisles type of guy.” 

“Was I looking a little too good while perusing the five dollar shelf?” you tease while you move onward into the store, stopping to thumb through a rack of jeans.

“Well that’s the thing,” he says with a tilt of his head, “You’re always lookin’ a little too good.” 

He hums when you roll your eyes, “Hmm. How’d I know that was coming?” 

“Why’re you so nice to me all the time, huh?” you fake argue, bored with looking at clothes and taking deliberate steps towards home goods to the bath section. Eddie hurries to keep up, basket clicking and clacking in his hand. 

“I guess I can be mean to you, but I feel like that would make me a shitty date,” he jokes back, “And an even worse Uber driver.” 

“So true, actually. Zero stars,” you nod, running your hand over a towel that matches the color of his shirt, “Y’know green’s a really good color for you? Makes your eyes pop.” 

“Oh…” he can feel himself turning red when you say that. So she’s been looking at my eyes? Is she always secretly sort of checking me out the way I’m always secretly sort of checking her out? Does she think I’m cute or something? Why am I trying to propose to her right now? Is it ‘cause we’re looking at towels? 

“Um, thank you. I’ll um, I’ll wear it more often,” he runs a hand over his face while you continue to look at towels, turning the corner to look at the fancier ones. You laugh at his jittery response, not so much at him, not teasing, but – this guy covered in tattoos, stomping in combat boots, definitely has a knife in his back pocket, chains dangling down the side of his pants, is blushing bright red just because you said he looks good in green. This guy? 

“You should,” you encourage, turning to see his reddened face, “What happened to not being nervous?” 

“That’s a rule for you,” he says, walking a few steps ahead of you. His eyes catch on a soap dispenser, it’s the same one he had in the master bathroom back with Chris, “I can be as nervous as I want.” 

“Ah, I see, rules for thee, not for me,” you nod slowly. 

“See! Now you’re getting it,” he says over his shoulder. He reaches his free hand back toward you, eyes meeting yours, tossing you a smile when you look at his hand and back at him, “Yeah, I want you to hold it.” 

When your fingers slide in to lace with his he realizes his hands are a little sweaty. They weren’t last time you saw him, with your hand cradled in between his on his knee at the bar. He was a couple drinks in then, not forced to face the action fully. Not aware enough to realize he was holding a pretty girl’s hand in public on a domestic date and all he can think about is railing you in the backseat of his Honda Civic and also making a mental note of all the color choices you like so when you eventually move in together he already knows what you — Jesus fucking Christ you have soft hands. You guide him through the rest of the bathroom section, stopping briefly to consider whether or not you need more hand towels for your apartment and then shaking it off. He let’s you take him around the corner to mattress covers, you talk about your Casper mattress and how you still aren’t sure if you really like it two years later. He hears himself respond in a fog but he’s caught up on how right it feels to be here with you, to be holding your hand, holding your Target basket for you, listening to you talk about whatever. 

You get to bedding and stop at the throws, Eddie’s fog lifts when you let go of his hand to take one of them off the shelf. A dark green knitted blanket replaces his hand, folded up neat and tidy in its wrap-around casing. 

“This is so perfect for my living room,” you murmur to yourself, “It’s so cute.” 

Eddie leans against the shelf while you let your senses absorb the knit: touch, sight, smell. You peer at the other colors, unhappy with the rest, balancing the blanket on your hip while you look back at the empty spot where it once sat. Your eyes roll again, shoulders slumping for real this time.

“Not seventy five dollars cute,” you grumble, putting the blanket back on the shelf. 

“Seventy five dollars?” he asks, aghast, brown eyes rounding in surprise, “What, did they shear the sheep here or something?” 

“That’s capitalism for ya,” you click your tongue, giving the blanket one last look with a little pout, “Oh well, I’m sure I can find a dupe or something at TJ Maxx.” 

“M’sorry, sweetheart,” he consoles, taking your hand back and giving it an apologetic squeeze. 

“Sweetheart…” you repeat back, “That’s cute.” 

“That’s cute? Okay,” he smiles down at the tile under his feet, teeth showing, “I’ll keep note of that.” 

You both continue your journey through bedding, crossing through the Hearth & Hand showcase where he listens to you gripe about how you swear it’s a scam. None of this shit should be this expensive. Like, I could get all this shit at H&M Home online for twenty dollars less. What, just cause they’re on TV? Frickin’ ridiculous. He still stands by thinking that you’re cute when you’re mad. He can’t let go of your hand. He doesn’t even care that you’re both so far from travel toiletries, that you likely forgot why you were even here. He just likes this, being in Target with you, holding your hand while you yell about something. 

“Oh, hold on, I gotta look at these,” you squeeze his hand before you let go again, walking ahead of him while Matchbox Twenty’s 3AM fades into Des’ree’s You Gotta Be. 

“Decorative wicker baskets?” he asks, stepping back to look at the wall of wicker baskets of all sizes in the back of the store. 

“I need two for under my dresser,” you say, reaching up to grab one and looking at the tag for the dimensions, “S’for my socks and stuff.” 

He tosses you a look and you look back at him, “Don’t ask.” 

You get lost in the task, two stepping with a little sway to your hips, small movements. You sing along to the song while you pull one basket down and put it back, and so on. You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together. You aren’t mocking him when you sing along but the lyrics feel like they are. You’re so into it, too. He guesses this is what you’re like when no one’s around to watch you. How unfortunate that you’re so kissable even when you think no one is around to see it. 

“Hey,” he says, putting the basket down, “What did I say about looking too good?” 

“What?” you turn around, eyes rounded, almost startled, “Am I taking too long?”

“No,” he says with a furrow of his brow, approaching you gently while he crosses into your personal space. His voice drops a little lower, lips lingering close to yours, “No baby, not at all. Just looking really cute over here.” 

You can’t help but feel girlish when he’s like this, giggling while heat floods your cheeks and chest. 

“C’mere,” he whispers, pressing you back with his body so you’re flush with the shelves against the wall. His nose brushes yours, fingers finding your chin to tilt you up toward him where his mouth can taste you and you can taste him. He starts slow, just a test, shrouded in the lower light of the back decorative basket aisle, lips parting slightly to see if you’ll match it. He puffs a small breath against the ridge of your upper lip and it’s enough to send you into a frenzy. His body presses close up against you, kiss gaining fervor, hands coming up to cup around your cheek and neck to guide you with him

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, breaking away, “We’re gonna get in trouble.” 

“You think I’m scared of getting in trouble?” he clicks his tongue before grinning at you. Looks like you don’t do trouble. His lips ghost over yours, skating softly over your cheek to get to your ear, “I’ve been gettin’ kicked out of Targets since 2007, sweetheart.” 

His teeth graze your ear lobe, your hands reaching to clutch the soft leather of his jacket, a small sigh puffs out of you. He’s not sure if it’s pushing it, but the aisle is empty, and whatever he’s doing, he’s pretty sure you like it – his lips drop from your earlobe to the edge of your jaw, settling on a slow, wet open mouth kiss on your neck before meeting your mouth again. 

“Ed,” you mumble quietly, “I can’t be turned on at Target.” 

“Yes you can,” he giggles, stealing another gentle kiss from you. 

“Uh…hey folks,” a timid voice calls from the end of the aisle. You both break away, embarrassment clearly taking you over while you cover your face in your hands. A younger guy in a red t-shirt and khaki slacks waves awkwardly when he has both of your attention. 

“Sorry to uh, to interrupt but, um – y’know, this is a family friendly store and we just – yeah, I’m sorry. You’re not in trouble or anything,” he offers, stumbling over his words. 

“Thanks man,” Eddie says genuinely, giving him a wave back, “Sorry about that, just uh, caught up in the moment I guess. Baskets really do it for her, y’know?” 

The guy nods, walking away when a small thwap of the back of your hand hits his chest. 

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you laugh, changing your voice to mock him, “Baskets really do it for her. Fuck all the way off.” 

Eddie laughs with you, picking up the Target basket and placing it in your hand, “Look, I gotta pee so bad. Do you think you can man the aisles yourself while I go and take care of that?” 

You nod, “Just text me when you’re done and I’ll tell you where I am, okay?” 

“Cool,” he nods back, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, “See you in a bit.” 

hey, where are you at? easter stuff, i got distracted  very godly of you

He bustles through the aisles, realizing now that you’re on the totally opposite side of the store than you were before. He spots you where all the candy is, your basket full of your toiletries.  “Easter candy?” he asks. 

“It’s the best holiday candy, easily,” you confess, “I know people will probably say Halloween since that’s the candy holiday, but dude, there’s something about Cadbury eggs.” 

“Yeah?” he reaches out and takes the basket out of your hand gently, you don’t protest when he does, “Isn’t it supposed to be from the UK? Don’t they have better chocolate by proxy?” 

“I think so,” you agree while Eddie strolls a little further down the aisle, “Have you ever had them?” 

“I’m sure I have,” he says, fingers tracing over a chocolate bunny in a box, “I guess I’m more of a Halloween guy.” 

“Boring,” you sing, holding two small bags of Cadbury eggs in your hands. Eddie holds the basket in front of him while you gear up to toss one in. 

“Kobe!” you shout, the candy leaving your fingers in a lay up toss, floating through the air only to fall at Eddie’s feet on the tile. 

“Too soon,” Eddie shakes his head solemnly, reaching down to grab the chocolate and put it in the red basket in his arm, “How’re you gonna call out a legend’s name and then miss?” 

“I feel like you moved it so that I’d miss,” you accuse playfully. 

“I kept it exactly where it was, I think you’re just not very good at basketball,” he says, making his way towards you. You put the other bag in with the rest of your stuff and look up at him through half lidded eyes. He matches your gaze while he looks at you. 

“You just don’t wanna see me be great,” you tease. 

“Oh, stop,” he tutts, “You’re very great.” 

Neither of you can help but kiss again. It feels natural to do it at this point. 

“You get everything you need to get?” he asks against your lips. You nod, a little ‘mhm’ squeaks out of your throat, “Good, cause they can’t yell at us for making out in the parking lot. So we should head out of here soon.” 

The remainder of the errands and lunch go by like a blur to him. Saturday meant busy restaurants so instead you opted for fast food in the parking lot, starting the drive home sharing Wendy’s waffle fries over the center console. 

Before you pull out of the lot, he flicks your music on again, opting to just leave it on shuffle because he feels like he learns you better that way. What’s going to come up next that’ll surprise him? What’s he gonna find out about you? 

‘Baby, I know you’re hurting, Right now you feel like you could never love again. Now all I ask, is for a chance, to prove, That I love you.’ 

Eddie barks out a laugh, takes a sip of his Sprite, and then laughs again, “Oh shit. I haven’t heard this song in years!”

“You know this song, too?” you ask, surprised again at his music repertoire. 

“You really don’t think I’m cultured, do you?” he jokes, “I have a deep affinity for the Backstreet Boys, though I will admit I was an NSYNC boy myself growing up.”

“Of course,” you murmur with an eye roll, “What’s your favorite NSYNC song?” 

“Ooh, let me see,” he thinks while he turns onto the highway, “Definitely Drive Myself Crazy. I’d always try to hit JC’s runs.”

“You knew their names too?” 

“I told you already, I grew up in a trailer park. I had the same babysitter from two to eleven,” he explains, “Mrs. Grandy watched me until her daughter Summer turned thirteen and then I’d go and pal around with her and her friends. I was like her little brother, I practically lived there.” 

“Were you always there?” you ask, “At your babysitter’s house?” 

“Yeah. My uh, my mom died when I was seven but she was always working and tryna stay out of the house when my dad came home so I was always at the sitters. He’s y’know – he’s in jail but he was in and out of it when I was a kid, too. Got arrested for beating on her a couple months before she died and my uncle moved up from North Carolina to take care of me. But he worked nights so – if I wasn’t at school I had to have someone watch me while he slept and then someone had to be at the trailer while I slept. It was way easier when I was in school – but anyway – wow – off topic there – yes, I spent a lot of time with my babysitter and her mom,” he finishes.  

“I’m sorry,” you offer, reaching over to give his knee a reassuring squeeze. 

“No, don’t be. It’s okay. I’m okay – I turned out pretty cool, I think,” he shrugs.

“You’re really cool,” you smile, Eddie smiles back. 

“What’s your favorite Backstreet Boys song?” he asks. 

“Hey Mr. DJ, easy,” you tell him, “It’s the most fucknasty song they’ve ever made and it still holds up. Like, I want it played at my wedding. I’m trying to make a child to that song.” 

Eddie loses it at fucknasty, head falling back on the headrest while his chest bounces, “The most fucknasty song? We’ll have to play that next.” 

“You won’t be disappointed,” you say, “AJ sings it and he was my favorite.” 

“Oh, baby, that does not surprise me at all,” he grins. Calling you baby sounds comfortable now, even after just talking for a week. He’s not sure how fast or slow these things are supposed to go, but your little smile every time he says it makes him wanna say it more. 

“I saw them in concert, when I was like, nine or ten or something,” Eddie says, “For their Millenium Tour – was when I Want It That Way was huge.” 

“You got tickets?” you ask, a teasing grin splitting your face. 

“Summer was a huge Backstreet Boys and NYSNC fan, like, posters all over her room. Had every magazine they were in that she could find, everything. So all we would do when she would watch me was listen to them and talk about them, so I liked them because she liked them and I thought she was cool,” he starts. 

“So anyway, she finds out on the radio that they’re giving away tickets to a show in Columbus – cause like, no one fucking comes to Indiana to play shows – and she calls in and wins! She literally went into shock. But we ended up going and she brought me instead of her friend because she was like ‘Mom, he’s family’. Which as an adult, makes me fucking melt y’know? But as a kid I was like ‘Damn you’re gonna drag me to Ohio to see a boy band? I wanna see Tool.’”

“Not Tool!” you laugh.  

“But it was cool cause we got to stay in a hotel for a night and all that other shit. It felt really special, her mom got us t-shirts which I’m sure cost her a fortune but – damn. I had a lot of fun.” 

“It sounds like you did.”

“The most crazy thing though – which I’ve never told anyone so, I hope you feel special – was when I saw them perform, I thought like, ‘Wow, I wanna do this when I grow up.’ So in a way, if it wasn’t for the Backstreet Boys, I would’ve never realized I wanted to be a rockstar,” he confesses, “And I mean, obviously I was really into rock, and metal, and folk-punk stuff ‘cause of Wayne, but seeing those guys on stage? Everyone screaming? I was like ‘Damn, I wanna be up there! I wanna be shredding up there!’” 

“I love that,” you reply, a warm smile spread across your face while you watch him relive the memory in his head. 

He shrugs, “It was a cool dream to have but, I don’t know. That ship has long sailed.” 

“What do you mean? Long sailed? You can still be a rockstar,” you argue, a fry crunching soft between your teeth. 

He shakes his head, slight defeat caressing his tone, “No I can’t. I’m too old now.” 

“Too old? Shut up,” you assert through a mouthful of waffle fry, “Metallica’s still out there playing. Iron Maiden is literally on tour right now. And they’re all like – in their sixties for fuck’s sake.” 

“Okay?” he huffs back, the red from the hazard lights of the car in front of you flashes against his face, “And? They all got famous when they were like, twenty or younger. I’m fucking…thirty-two.” 

“Exactly! You’re only thirty-two,” you exclaim while he rolls to a stop at a red light. Your hand reaches out to squeeze his arm, “You have so much time. You can literally be a rockstar whenever.” 

Eddie’s chest gets tight when you say that – it had been a while since he heard that type of encouragement. He’d missed the feeling of someone cheering him on from the bar while he was on stage, Chrissy’s praise when they’d get home. Wayne calling to tell him he saw a review of their set in the paper. Lately the shows felt sad to him, he felt lonely, even though he was always the happiest when he could make it on that stage. 

“You can’t be saying shit like that to me,” he says knowingly, maneuvering his arm so that he can take your hand in his. 

“Why not?” you ask, your voice holding a hint of sullenness that breaks his heart. He kisses your knuckles before resting his and your hand on your thigh, the light changing to green. 

“‘Cause you’re gonna make me fall in love with you.” Your eyes cast down at his hand on your thigh, your smile tight, stretching painfully across your cheeks, “Oh, okay. I’ll be meaner if that’s not what you’re going for.” 

“It’s definitely what I’m going for,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand softly. 

The mood in the car shifts to comfortable silence, I’ll Never Break Your Heart fading out into the opening croons of Leon Bridges’ Coming Home. You lean your head on the window, looking at the cars passing you on the highway, the light flecks of rain hitting the glass as the car keeps its speed. Eddie lets go of your hand, palm stretching over the mass of your thigh, running soothingly up and down on your leggings. His thumb rubs soft and slow over the outside of your quad, he just wants to touch you. It’s a comforting touch, no implications other than – I like being here with you right now. 

‘The world leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, girl. You're the only one that I want, Wanna be around. Wanna be around, girl, Wanna be around, girl, Ooh, wanna be around, girl...’

“I like this,” Eddie says, his voice soft, “Who is this?” 

“Leon Bridges,” you answer, “The whole album is so good. It honestly sounds even better on vinyl.” 

“I was just about to say, I bet it sounds great on vinyl,” he enthuses, “I like the old timey vibe.” 

“It’s cozy, right?” you ask. 

“Very cozy,” he nods, tossing a look over to you. Your eyes are heavy lidded, breath steady in your chest,  “You gettin’ sleepy?” 

“Kinda,” you yawn, “You’re not boring me or anything, I promise.” 

“That’s okay,” he offers you a soft pat on the thigh, returning back to the slow back and forth that was putting you to sleep, “We’ll be home soon-ish, just take a nap.” 

You frown, “You sure? Am I being lame?” 

“Nah, you’re not being lame,” he assures. Your eyes flutter closed, the warm cascade of his hand continues while they do. 

After a long stretch of highway, Eddie turns the car into your part of town, a sadness washing over him that he has to drop you off and then go home to his apartment for the remainder of this rainy evening. For a flicker of a moment he wants to be selfish and ask if you wanna just kick it at his house, but he knows you have stuff to do before this trip. Envy seeps into his sadness that your boss gets to spend so much time with you, gets to watch you laugh, gets to watch you solve problems, gets to watch you do anything all day. Is it healthy to feel like this so quickly? I don’t know her like that, he wonders, Is it that sort of thing where like, if you know you know? Or am I being kind of insane right now? 

“What’d I miss?” you ask, rising from your mini-nap in the car. You frown when you see your surroundings, so much closer to home than you hoped. 

“A few showtunes and Mariah’s Vision of Love,” he says, your sleepy voice tugging on his heart and lips, “I’m partial to My All but that’s cause I’m a professional sad boy.” 

“My All is on there, but it’s probably good I was out for Vision of Love – you didn’t have to hear me screlting it in the small confines of this car,” you laugh.

“Do you sing?” he asks. You shake your head no. 

“I did musicals in high school, as you can see by the showtunes,” you explain, “But I wouldn’t call myself much of a singer.” 

“I’m sure I’ll find out if that’s true sooner or later,” he offers. It’s part way through Good Charlotte’s Girls & Boys, volume low so he didn’t disturb you sleeping. 

“This song makes me laugh,” you say, he feels your hand find his, still sitting firm on your lap. You play with his rings, twirling them around his fingers, he swallows hard. 

“Like, so many songs that came out around this time, even a couple years after – now they just sound like women’s empowerment.” 

“Tell me more,” he says, turning onto your street, the ache creeping back up again. 

“Like, ‘Girls don’t like boys, girls like cars and money.’ Is that supposed to be a dig? Of course I like cars and money – I’m a person. ‘Paper or plastic, don’t matter, she’ll have it.’ Like it’s a bad thing! Sounds like she’s thriving, he’s paying for everything and she didn’t even ask him to, she’s just sitting there looking hot!” you continue, “Sounds like a dream to be honest!”

“Yeah!” he nods, mulling it over in his head, “Fuckin’ – good for her!” 

“I’m happy for her!” you laugh, he laughs with you. It’s nice to laugh so much with you, he likes that you’re sort of goofy in your own right. He pulls up to your house, pulling in to park in front of the walk way. Both of your laughs quiet down, you both look at the house through your window and the air in the car changes. 

“I don’t wanna go,” you frown, shoulders slumping, “I wanna keep hanging out.” 

“I know,” he says gently, “I wanna keep hanging out, too – but you got stuff you need to get ready for tomorrow.”

“I know,” you scrunch your nose, “So stupid.” 

“So stupid,” he agrees, “How dumb that you have to go to a really cool expo where the weather’s nice.” “Well when you put it like that,” you say with a tilt of your head and a smile. 

“Let me get your stuff out of the trunk,” he offers, getting out of the car into the smattering of rain. He pops the trunk and grabs your bags, coming over to your side to open your door for you. 

“Here,” he says, offering you your toiletries, Old Navy exchange (and a few other purchases), and a Sephora bag with definitely more than just your boss’s sunscreen in it. You thank him and lean in for a kiss but he grins, turning away from you to go back to the trunk, “Sorry, forgot a bag.” 

He reappears with the trunk closes, another Target bag in his hands that he passes to you. The weight reveals what it is before you look, but you peek to be sure, “Ed…”

“I didn’t really have to pee,” he confesses, “You just really liked it and you looked so sad when you put it back so, you know, I just wanted to do something nice.” 

“It’s really nice,” you smile, looking down at the green Casaluna blanket nestled in the bag, “I just don’t want to like…feel like I owe you something.” 

“No, no, no,” he hurriedly shakes his head, “Please don’t feel like that. This really was just like – it’s not like a power move or anything I’m not like that, I promise – I don’t want anything in return, seriously.” 

“Except maybe a picture when it’s all set up nice in your living room,” he grins. Your eye rolls make his heart flutter because so far, you always kiss him after you do it and this time is no exception. 

“I’ll see you when I come back,” you say, wincing as the rain starts to pick up. “You act like you’re going to war, sugar,” he teases, “Like you’re not gonna text me in five minutes.” 

“Ew, bye,” you scowl, giving him a peck before hustling up the walkway to find refuge on the covered porch. 

“Bye,” he calls out, bottom lip tucking between his teeth in the afterglow of another good date. He gets back in the car and waits for you to get in safely before driving away towards his own apartment. At a red light, his phone goes off, just five minutes since he’s pulled away. He opens his texts, a full belly laugh barking from his mouth.  it looks great in my living room. oh shit it’s only been five minutes. 😡 fuck you. 

By day two of your trip, Eddie was already homesick for you. Savoring every message you could send his way when you weren’t busy, but also trying his best not to text you back immediately so he didn’t seem needy. Or worse, desperate. He liked it the most when you’d send pictures: big pink quartz bathtubs, amethyst arm chairs, huge chunks of malachite that were the size of his hand. 

these would make cool dice for d&d, right? the coolest. you should buy that and then hand carve the dice for me. let me pull a grand out of my ass real quick so i can get to work on that. so needy.   oh, so you miss me?  of course i do :) i miss you, too :) 

“So when’re we gonna meet your mystery girlfriend?” Robin asks, swirling her rum and coke with her straw, “Or does she go to a different school in Canada that we wouldn’t know about?” 

Steve snickers with Robin, two mean girls who always mean girl together. It was a Tuesday, which meant Robin and Steve would meet up for Happy Hour at a bar near Nancy’s office for the paper and then bother everyone else to come meet them until everyone showed up. The three sat at the corner of the bar, Steve in the center in his business casual. Patagonia vest over his blue button up, hair perfectly windswept with his sunglasses tucked into his t-shirt collar. Picture perfect finance bro with his mean lesbian guard dog to bark at any woman who might hurt his feelings. Eddie was convinced that if Robin wasn’t gay, they would’ve gotten married the day that they met. 

“Well she’s not my girlfriend yet, for one,” Eddie starts, defensively, “And if you wanna know if she’s real, here’s her Instagram.” 

He passes his phone to Robin who swipes through your photos with a nod, a smile pulling across her face, “Not bad at all, Munson.” 

“Let me see,” Steve demands with a slight whine, plucking the phone from her hand. He scrolls, a touch of a salacious smirk spreading across his face, “Oh, smash. Immediately smash.” Steve passes Eddie’s phone back to him on the table, screen open to a risque picture of you on the beach, “You didn’t fuck?” 

“Not yet, Harrington,” Eddie sighs, “I’ll be sure to let you know the moment I slip it in, okay?” 

“I’m just saying,” Steve shrugs, “I would’ve fucked her already.” 

“Yeah, we know loverboy,” Robin teases. Eddie’s shoulders tense a little because if Steve wanted you, he’d definitely be able to take you. He’s hot and charismatic, he has more money than he knows what to do with, and at the end of the day – Steve loves women. All kinds of women. Eddie swore Steve would leave college with a taste for thin blondes that were in his frat’s sister sorority but every night it was someone new. And every night, Steve Harrington got what Steve Harrington wanted. 

“Tell her to follow me,” Steve winks. 

“It’s the first thing I did when I met her, actually – told her to follow you,” Eddie jokes back. 

what’re you doing? happy hour with the group. well right now just rob and steve but everyone else is on the way. fun! i bought a new bathing suit at a vendor because i have bad impulse control. also look at these cool rocks. oh, sick – what kind are they? the vendor said they’re ocean jasper do you want one? will you get a matching one with me? also linger is playing at the bar right now and it’s…making me think about you? stupid as hell. absolutely will get us matching ones. i love that song. who said you could be this cute? pretty sure i did. steve says hi by the way, he’s ‘linger’ing over my shoulder. lmao you’re so corny “Is she gonna send you a picture of her in the bathing suit or not?” he asks impatiently. “She’s still working, man,” Eddie flips his phone over so the screen can’t be seen, “And even if she does, I’m not gonna show it to you.” “Yeah, don’t be such a perv Steve,” Robin sasses, “Get me another rum and coke instead.” 

After an hour, the rest of the group has made it and Eddie’s had three beers in a short span of time. Not enough alcohol to feel drunk, but enough alcohol that he keeps getting lost in the thought of your thighs on that barstool last week. The little overflow of your tummy in your jeans, your hips, what you might look like out of those jeans. What sounds you might’ve made if he went to your house after Target and he peeled those leggings off you. You’re busy and he’s bummed out about it only because he selfishly wishes you were here at happy hour instead of looking at cool rocks. “You look so sad right now,” Tatianna says from across the table the group has gathered round, “You miss your girl?” 

Eddie pouts dramatically, nodding, “I do.” “Guys this is the one, I’ve never seen him like this before,” Tatianna grins, “He’s down bad.” 

Tati reaches next to her to hold hands with Gareth giving it a squeeze, “Hinge is the truth, I’m telling you.” 

“I mean, you sure? He thought Chris was the one and look how that turned out,” Mike says from the other end. Everyone sighs and groans, whines of ‘C’mon Wheeler,’ sound out of a few of them. 

“When you know, you know, kid,” Gareth offers softly, “And I think Ed knows.” 

“When’re we gonna meet this girl who likes your nerdy ass?” Erica giggles next to him. “Exactly what I was saying earlier,” Steve adds. 

“I don’t think you need to meet her, Steve,” Dustin laughs, “Let him have something, for God’s sake.”  “Well,” Nancy starts, “I mean, Steve’s party at Barcade is next week. Might be a good sort of low stakes way to ease her in.” 

“That’s actually such a good idea,” Tatianna agrees. 

“But I have the jazz concert for my kids that night,” Eddie sulks. 

“Yeah but that ends at like, eight thirty,” she argues, “You should tell her to come. We’ll take care of her before you show up.”  “I’ll take realgood care of her, Munson,” Steve grins.

“Steve.”

Eddie’s head is down on his forearms so he doesn’t know how many people started scolding Harrington over his head. This was overwhelming again – this part. Eddie thought maybe all the fussing over starting to date would be the worst but now it’s every day that they ask about you. At least twice a day in the group chat – Your girl coming to D&D? How was your date last weekend? Is she with you right now? Tell her we all said hi. Are you gonna bring her to Tati’s art show?

He doesn’t have all the answers yet and he doesn’t know where you’re at either. Do you want to meet his friends? Would you even like them?

Everyone yelling at Steve is satisfying, but it would be cooler if you were here to see it.  

The following night he was up late grading papers he should’ve graded a week ago but he was too caught up in his personal life to care. Conversation with you had dwindled quickly last night as he spent more time at the bar and ended up planning the next campaign. You hadn’t reached out at all today and he felt too proud to be the one to text you first, a twinge of resentment plucking at his heart strings in his chest. Hollow loneliness drumming at his ribcage. 

The papers were graded, neatly stacked and put away in his bag for tomorrow, red pen capped and put back on his desk. Eddie groans as he stands up to stretch, peeling off his t-shirt and slipping off his sweatpants, tossing them haphazardly in the corner of the room by his hamper. He kicks off his socks, finally comfortable in his boxers and silver chain, before trudging down to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He comes back to a quiet buzz on his phone, screen glowing to life while he swipes it off his dresser. 

hey, sorry i was so MIA today. things got really busy and hectic, surprise zoom meeting with bloomingdale’s and then a second surprise offer call with bergdorf goodman and then a few vendors wanted to get dinner and schmooze. it’s no excuse honestly but i should’ve messaged you to let you know i was busy. i’m sorry, handsome :( thought about you all day if that helps 

Eddie’s heart leaps in his chest, cheeks already hurting from the smile splitting his face open. You thought about him all day. You thought about him all day. The same way he thinks about you all day. He climbs into bed, snuggling in under the covers with the glow of his phone illuminating his grinning face in the dark. 

don’t apologize, sweetheart, i know you’re busy. glad that your hectic day is over at least, now you can relax! thought about you all day, too. one of my kids kept trying to play juicy by doja cat on the sax at jazz practice, so you came to mind immediately. LMAO. i’ll take that as a compliment. what’re you doing up so late?  grading papers, but i’m done now. i’d ask why you’re up so late but it’s only nine thirty there. what’re you up to? trying this bathing suit on, finally. do you wanna see it?

“Do I wanna see it?” he murmurs, exasperated with an eye roll to no one, “Of course I wanna see it.” 

yeah, show me :) 

He waits with bated breath, trying his best to swipe out of the text conversation and do something else instead of counting the minutes until you reply. His heart hammers in his chest while he waits for the familiar buzz in his hand. 

And there you are, dark red spandex hugging you tight, cinching you in all the right places. His eyes linger on the high cut of the bottom, the way some of the pudge of your hips pokes out at the seams and he bites his lip. ‘Fuck,’ he mumbles quietly. Your thighs on full display for him, thick and begging for him to grab, you’re so fucking grabbable he can’t even stand it. 

jfc you know what you’re doing  whaaaaat? what do you mean?  ‘what do you meaaaannn 🤪’ you know what i mean.  do you not like it?  i like it a little too much  you wanna see it from the back? 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters into the darkness. He feels the blood rush to his pelvis like an army command, cock partially at attention while his hand palms delicately over his boxers. 

of course i do 

He gulps when the picture comes in, you posed like that on purpose. One ass cheek propped up on the bathroom counter, the other lifted and perky from your stance. The soft rolls of your back on display from how you’re turned to still have your pretty face in frame. He’d fucking wreck you. Lovingly, of course.

do you want me to hop on a flight or?? how much are tickets to az? i’m about to come thru.  you got enough blood in your brain to make that trip rn?  lmao you know i don’t 😏 sorry i’m all the way in a different state, i’d help take care of it. 

“Yeah?” he chokes out, palming turning to full slow strokes over the fabric, “You wanna take care of it for me?” 

yeah? you’d take care of it?  only if you asked nicely :) 

“Fuck,” he whispers, tossing his phone down to reach for his side table drawer to reach for the tiny bottle of lube he kept there. He tugs down his boxers hastily, squirting some of the liquid in his palm before picking up the phone again with his clean hand. 

i’d ask very nicely. i’d even say please.  what a good boy. :) 

“M’such a good boy,” he huffs, hand wrapping tightly around the base of his cock and dragging upwards, “I’ll be so good for you.” 

would you want me to use my hands or my mouth? 

“Oh my fucking God,” he groans, brain short circuiting at the thought of you on your knees while he stands over you. Eyes looking up at him with a hand tangled up in your hair, desperately trying to not thrust deep into your throat while you go to work on him. He bites his lip while he fucks his fist, palm and fingers gliding in time with his foreskin, teasing his tip. A fire lights in his belly, cooking up thoughts in his head on how he’d want you first. 

i like the idea of keeping your mouth full  oh you wanna shut me up? is that it?  i don’t think it takes much. 

His head leans back on the wall behind his bed, eyes closing while his hips roll up to meet the speed of his hand, slower now to stave it off. 

“Yeah, suck it just like that…” he hums out, “Please more.” His brows pinch while he looks back at the picture you sent, your glossed lips gleaming back at him. They’d look so good around his cock, your eyes would look so good filled up with tears when you tried to deep throat him.

“T-take all of it,” he stammers out, unsure of his own dirty talk to himself. Would he actually say that? 

Bzz. Bzz.

oh yeah cause you’re soooo big 🙄

“Psh,” he hisses out with a roll of the eyes, hand lifting off his cock to type back. He guesses when it comes to you, he would say that. Just so you’d stop being such a brat. 

you’re gonna feel so stupid when you see it  you sound very confident  because i am  is it big? 

He looks down at himself confidently, laying fat and dense up his stomach, kicking up at the thought of you seeing it for the first time. Chrissy always gawked at it, despite how many times she’d seen it, it was always like she was seeing it for the first time. The girls he’d pull into the bathroom at The Hideout and other bars would whine at the sight. Both him and them slurring together about how they can make it fit. 

its big, sweetheart. but i think you can take it.  i know i can take it.  so sure of yourself tonight, huh? bet you wouldn’t be so cocky if you were here.  so i could watch you jerk it in your bedroom? puhlease. 🙄 i can tell by how you’re talking that you really like the idea of that.  so you are jerking it in your bedroom?  the same way i know you have your fingers between your pretty thighs

He doesn’t know that, but it was worth the shot. His mind reels, thinking of you barely changing out of your swimsuit into nothing to lay back on your hotel bed to touch yourself to him talking to you. He grunts when his hand wraps around his length again, fisting himself with more intention, thinking about your hips writhing in time with his. He wishes he knew how you sounded when you felt good, how you’ll sound when he makes you feel good. And god does he wanna make you feel good. 

🙈 stop  yeah? i can stop.  don’t actually, i’m just embarrassed 😩 how come?  cause i do have my fingers between my thighs 

“Fuuuuuck me,” he groans into a whimper. He shudders a gasp while his hips buck up to meet his hands thrusts, imagining you on top of him, under him, below him, above him. Mouth, hands, pussy, anything of yours bobbing over his cock. Wiping the images clean and starting over with you splayed out on the hotel bed again, trying to keep quiet so your boss won’t hear you through the hotel’s thin walls. 

does it feel good, sweetheart?  it would feel better if you were doing it for me.  can i call you?

“Can I call you?” he reads out loud, in a whisper, “Can I…call you…” 

absolutely. 

Your face pops up on his phone within the minute, phone buzzing rhythmically in his hands. His heart rate jerks alive, stomach dropping like he’s on a roller coaster while it continues to ring. 

He accepts, swallowing thickly as he does. 

“Hey there,” he murmurs. 

“Hi,” your voice is shaky on the other end, he holds back a moan. 

“Hi,” he says back to you, squeezing himself softly at the base again. 

“Do you wanna hear something embarrassing?” you laugh, following up with a soft needy sigh. 

“Always,” he swoons out, low and warm. 

“Your voice is so hot to me,” you giggle, “I don’t think I could finish if I didn’t hear it.” 

“Ah, there you go again, thinking your compliments to me are embarrassing,” he smirks. You sigh again and he lets out a heady breath while he strokes himself, teetering towards a climax. 

“Sorry,” you smile, and he can hear it in your voice, “You having a hot voice isn’t embarrassing. Me getting off to it is embarrassing.” 

He pauses, hearing your shallow breaths pick up, waiting for the right time to strike. His thumb trails over his tip to smear the precum oozing out of it over the head — his eyes roll back as he thinks about your tongue there instead. 

“S’not embarrassing,” his eyelids lower, settling deeper into his pillows. He groans low in his chest before speaking again, “You all wet for me, sugar?” 

“Yeah,” you whine to him. 

“Wish I could be there to take care of you,” he huffs, “I’d make you feel so good.”  

“How?” you ask breathily. 

He smirks, biting his lower lip, letting out a low laugh, “I’d take my time with you. Sounds like you get real needy.” 

“I’m not needy,” you protest. 

“Not needy, but calls me from the other side of the country to cum to my voice?” he argues playfully, “Oh yeah, not needy at all, baby.” 

You whine again, a few huffs of breath sound in the receiver. 

“You like that?” he asks lowly, “When I’m a little mean to you?” 

“Yeah…” 

“Fuck…” he whispers back, blood rushing to the tip, twitching while he works his hand up his shaft.

“Wait – are you actually jacking it right now?” you ask with a laugh. 

“Yeah,” he sighs back, “Are you surprised?” 

“How long have you been doing it?” 

“Since you sent me that picture with your whole ass out,” he confesses with a giggle, it just makes sense to him to answer honestly. 

“Is that how you wanna fuck me?” your voice is laced with depth and sex, his hips buck up at the sound, “From the back?” 

“Maybe not at first,” he starts, imagining he’s in the hotel with you, eyes locking on yours while you touch yourself. Meeting your pleading eyes with a salacious grin while he pumps his cock, climbing on top of the mattress. Climbing on top of you. 

“I’d probably want you on your back so I could see your pretty face,” he offers, “Watch you take it.” 

You sigh into the receiver again and he groans quietly while pleasure starts taking him over. 

“But if I’m being honest…” he starts again, voice lightly teasing. Your breaths pick up, and if he thinks he’s hearing right, you’re very wet. Just because of him, the way he’s talking to you. He shudders before regaining his composure, voice dropping dangerously low. 

“I can’t wait to get my mouth on that pussy,” he slurs out, drunk on the idea. 

“Mmm, fuck,” you mewl out. Okay Munson, maybe you still know how to do this shit. “Oh, you like the sound of that, huh?” he asks, a light raise to his voice, “You like thinking about me between your legs?” 

“Yes,” you huff through gritted teeth. He feels his orgasm creeping up on him quick, your little whines hitting his ear and gliding down his chest to his pelvis. Every soft puff of your breath feels like he’s the one making it punch out of you. 

“I know you’d take it so good, too. You’d get so messy for me,” he groans again when his palm grazes over the underside of his tip, cock leaking cum unceremoniously, sending shockwaves through his system, “Just like you are right now, hm?  Waiting for me to come over ‘n’ fuck you stupid?” “Please,” you whine into a growl, “Please fuck me stupid.” 

“Oh baby, I will,” he moans while he feels his balls tighten, closer and closer to the edge, hearing you pant and beg like that. Just for him. He grunts, breath huffing from his nose like a bull while his orgasm takes him over, cum shooting onto his belly in thick ropes, “F-fuck till you can’t fuckin – mmmf – can’t fuckin’ think.” “Oh! Oh my god, fuck. Fuck!” you cry out into the receiver. He grins, satisfied at that reaction, both of you taking deep breaths into your mics while you both come down. 

“Did you cum for me, sugar?” he drawls. 

“Mhm,” you squeak out. His grin doesn’t fade, it turns dirty, filthy, “Good girl.” 

“Don’t say that.” He can hear your embarrassed smile in your voice, it makes him laugh. He’s normally not like that, that’s not something he thinks he’s ever said in bed – at least not sober. 

“I won’t say it, I’m sorry. You don’t like that?” he asks thoughtfully. 

“I like it a lot and you’re too far away,” you say softly. 

“Poor thing,” he offers. 

“I am a poor thing!” you exclaim. You quiet down a little, both just listening to each other breathe on the other end, “I’m excited to see you again, when I come back.” 

“I’m excited to see you, too,” he smiles while he speaks softly into the receiver, “But lucky for me, I have these pictures of you to hold me over until then.” 

“Visual learner?” you tease. “Physical, too,” he counters. 

“You really are trouble,” you laugh, “And um – I don’t want you to think that like, the only reason I wanna see you is just to have sex or anything. I just really like spending time with you.” 

“I don’t think that at all,” he assures, “I really, really like spending time with you. I’m – and this is gonna sound super lame – but I’m excited to keep on getting to know you.” 

“Lamest thing I’ve ever heard,” you laugh, “But also, same. We can be lame together.” “Oh – uh, by the way,” Eddie’s voice reverts back to normal while a reminder jolts his body awake, “The group really wants to meet you and I know it’s gonna be the day after you get back and you might want to rest, but Steve’s birthday party is Friday if you wanna come. Totally understand if you’re gonna be too tired.” “Oh no, I’d love that!” he can hear you shifting on the mattress, likely getting ready for bed, “Steve’s the one whose Instagram request I shouldn’t accept, right?” Eddie laughs, “Right.”

You both talk for a little longer before he tells you it’s getting late and you should get some rest since you had such a long day. He doesn’t want to hang up, but you’re both too old to be doing the ‘falling asleep on the phone’ thing. Plus, he had to be up for work in five hours. 

Eddie slides into the seat on his Honda Civic and sighs – he’s tired. He doesn’t want to go to Steve’s party where everyone is gonna be loud and drunk by the time he gets there. He hates playing catch up, but you’re gonna be there so he’s doing his best to hype himself up before he starts the car. He cracks the Monster Energy sitting in his center console and chugs it, heaving a deep breath before starting the car. Mayhem’s Freezing Moon blares through his speakers and he nods to himself, Good, good, good. It would be a hype enough song to get him excited on the way there. He gives himself a once over in the rearview mirror, looking the same as he did when he freshened up in the teacher’s bathroom after the Jazz Club performed during the Spring Concert. His slim fit black slacks still kept their crease, his wallet chains still dangled from his pocket. Eddie took your advice and started wearing more green, a hunter short sleeved linen blend button up laid open and loose over a clean and expensive white t-shirt. If he didn’t know any better, he would say he looked hot. His hair was coiffed and coiled – he made sure to get a trim before you came back just to touch up the shag. His tattoos were the showiest you’d ever seen them and deeply moisturized, his silver chain and small rings were recently cleaned. 

He wants you to lose your mind when you see him, but when he walks into the bar he knows he already lost. There you are, standing at the bar with Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Dustin while they laugh with you at some story you’re telling. You’re all legs in your little black skirt with a cute cropped ‘ARIZONA’ sweatshirt cinching you in right at the waist. Your little white sneakers were shining purple in the black light of the bar, you probably wear these everywhere. 

“Eddie!” Dustin calls out, giving a big wave to call him towards the party. You whip around, beaming while he makes his way over, meeting him part way with a drink in your hand. He can smell your perfume immediately and he’s surprised he hasn’t already fallen to his knees. “Started without me, huh?” he asks, nodding to the drink in your hand. “I tried to get Steve a drink but he said it was a better gift for him to buy me one…or two,” you tell him sheepishly. Eddie catches Steve’s eyes over your shoulder when he pulls you in to say hello and shakes his head. Steve smirks, blowing him a kiss before mouthing, ‘Her ass? Insane.’ putting his hands out to show off the size of it. Eddie flips him off while he lets you go. 

“Everyone’s been really nice though,” you smile, giving him a once over, “You look really good.” 

“Thank you,” he says in your ear, kissing your cheek, “You look too good. Don’t think I can let you stick around here too long.” 

“S’kinda hot when you’re like that,” you grin sloppily, biting your lip. The tequila’s blurring the filter in your head a little, he can tell you’re just saying what comes to mind, eyes a little glassy. 

“Like what?” “A lil’ possessive,” you shrug. He tucks a knuckle under your chin, lifting your gaze toward him for a moment.  “Okay,” he smiles, leaning in to kiss you much more passionately than you expected. Your mouth is cold against his, tongue sliding in to taste the tequila on yours. He snakes one arm around your waist so that you’re chest to chest, both of you laughing against each other’s lips while Tati and the group whoop and holler over your makeout. He breaks away, looking down at you, eyes sparkling. 

“I missed you,” he says confidently. 

“I missed you,” you smile, pulling him tight against you. This was what he was waiting for. An ounce of clinginess so that he didn’t feel so insane for wanting to be close to you all the time. He leads you back over to the bar, hand on your lower back while you put yourself back in your little group. 

“What’re you having tonight, big boy?” Ed asks Steve, clapping him on the back in a brotherly hug. 

“Surprise me – you doing shots?” he asks. Eddie nods, getting the bartender’s attention when she makes his way over. 

“Can I get four shots of Jameson and then two for my buddy over here?” he asks, pointing at Steve with his thumb. The bartender nods, lining up the shot glasses and starting the pour. “I don’t really like Jameson,” you scrunch your nose. 

“Well baby, they’re all for me, so don’t worry about it,” he grins playfully, white teeth shining, “I’ll get you something else when you finish that drink.” 

You nod lazily, pulled into conversation with Robin while Steve and Eddie start taking their shots. The whiskey feels good hitting his throat, burning just enough to reinvigorate him for the rest of the night. He clicks his tongue when he downs them all, the scent of Tatianna’s vanilla perfume overtakes him before her hands cover his eyes from behind. 

“Guess who it is,” she laughs. 

“Someone who used my Warm Vanilla Sugar hand lotion today,” he answers, his fingers running over hers while he peels her hands away. He turns to her to pull her into a hug and then hugging Gareth behind her, already with their drinks in hand. 

“Look, it went with the fragrance I was wearing today. You used my curl cream again so – you can’t even be mad,” she shrugs, beckoning him over with her hand, “Come sit with us really quick.” 

Eddie turns to get your attention but Tatianna stops him, “She’s a big girl, she’s been doing fine on her own without you here, so far. Let her make friends.” Eddie pouts and Gareth pats him on the back after passing Tati’s drink to her, guiding him over to their booth close by the end of the bar. Eddie sits in the middle of the bench, looking like a kid who just got in trouble and is about to get a stern talking to by his parents. “So…” Eddie starts. 

“I really like her, dude,” Gareth grins, “Came in and immediately knew who we were, introduced herself, offered to get us a round. All around seems very much your vibe.” 

“And you, mom?” he asks, eyes lifting up through his lashes to look at Tatianna who has a smug grin on her face. 

“All I’m saying is that you should always be listening to me when I tell you to do something,” she shrugs, “‘Cause what if you had deleted the app that night? Would’ve never met the love of your life right there.” 

“Love of my life? You think?” he asks, eyes widening. “I know. Her energy is exactly what I thought it was gonna be,” Tatianna explains, gold rings in her twists flashing back the neon reflecting on them, “And you’ve been down bad for the past few weeks so I knew there had to be something about her that was really good.” 

“So you like her?” Eddie grins. 

“We love her,” Tatianna nods, “Consider her adopted.” 

“Steve loves her too, it looks like,” Eddie huffs, looking back over at the bar to see Steve showing you something on his phone, a little too close for comfort. 

“He’s behaving himself, don’t worry,” Dustin says while he slides in next to Eddie, “We all gave him a warning before she got here. Plus, he’s got two girls on his radar right now that he’s trying to take home if he doesn’t get too drunk – but y’know, we’re banking on the getting too drunk part.” 

“Always banking on the getting too drunk part,” Gareth laughs. 

The night continues on, people coming and going, getting up to dance, getting new drinks. He watches you blend in seamlessly, swaying with Tatianna at the bar while you wait for a rum and coke for you and water for him. He still has to drive home after all. 

“What do you know about this song?” Tatianna laughs while Victoria Monet’s Coastin’ booms over the speakers. You both walk back over, two stepping in time until Gareth pulls Tatianna in tight to him, rocking back and forth with each other and stealing kisses. 

Eddie watches you approach him while you lipsync the words playfully, hips swaying in in time with the beat. 

‘Think of the waaaays, The ways I wanna give you this ass, Just how you liiiiike, Feel like a Thursday how I’m throwin’ it back.’ “The ways you wanna give me this ass, huh?” he smirks, eyes flitting over you while he takes the water yor offer him. You keep up with your sway, pressing up close to him – you look up with a fake unamused quirk of your brow and he knows you’re about to say something bitchy that’ll make him fall for you even harder. “I don’t think you could handle it,” you flirt. 

“You know something?” he starts, putting his water on the table of the booth, catching you before you can sit down, “I think I can handle you just fine.” You burn at his words, a shy grin pulling at your lips when he sits down at the edge of the bench next to Nancy and across from Steve and Robin. It’s fun to flirt with you like this, right on the precipice of something a little dirty. He wants you so bad and if he knows women as well as he thinks he does, he knows you want him so bad, too.  He pats his thigh, encouraging you to sit on his lap. You hesitate at first but he nods encouragingly, a silent Please, it’s okay. You settle in, the table high enough that both sets of your thighs fit under the table. He takes a breath before letting his hands settle on your skin, imagining what it might be like when he gets to put his hands on all of it. 

Everyone banking on Steve getting too drunk to take someone home was right, him and Robin were already in their codependent best friend phase of the night where they only want to hang out with each other, hands cupped tight on the table. You’re talking to Robin about a game that’s like Sims but 8-bit – 

“It’s called Unpacking and it’s so cute, you basically unpack a house or a room and you learn more about the person’s story by unpacking their boxes – sort of like Sims but with actual feelings that you don’t have to make up,” you enthuse. 

“Is it on Steam?” she asks, “I’ll literally buy it right now.” 

“We’re partying, Rob, don’t play a dumb game,” Steve whines. 

“She’s not gonna play it right now, Steve,” Nancy chides, “She’s gonna play it later. Don’t worry, we all know tonight is about you.” 

Lucas comes over to the table looking aggravated, Max grinning next to him in a smile that Eddie knows too well. Lucas lost a bet and has to pay up, Eddie wonders what they bet on this time. 

“Why does your Dragon’s Lair score have to be so fucking high? Can you literally let anyone have anything?” Lucas huffs. 

“Don’t be so sad, Sinclair – you can always try to beat Red’s score,” Eddie shrugs, smirking smugly at the pair. 

“She’s 250 points behind you, and you’re both like, seven thousand points ahead of everyone else,” he huffs. 

“What’d’you owe her this time?” he asks. 

“I can’t even tell you out loud,” he sighs. Max cackles, offering her hand and leading him back over to the Party at the bar, fingers laced with each other while they talk. Eddie adjusts under you, groin shifting under your ass by accident but he savors how delicious it feels to have you on top of him like this. 

“Are there any other games in there that you have a high score on?” you ask, breath hitching slightly while his hands coast teasingly over your bare skin under the table. Your posture straightens when his fingers glide up your inner thigh, brushing his fingertips past the hem of your skirt. You like that, he thinks, your body language tells him all he needs to know to keep going. 

“The Dracula pinball machine,” he replies confidently. 

“I’m gonna go beat it,” you grin up at him. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks, hand sliding off your thigh when you get up to head to the arcade room,  “You even know how to play?” 

“You can show me,” you shrug. He doesn’t really have to show you, pinball is pretty self explanatory, but he doesn’t want to give up a chance to have you alone. He leads you to the machine, pointing out where you want the ball to hit for the best chance at extra points. The music on the sound system is loud and the machine’s music matches it so he has to get close to your ear to explain. 

“Do you think I don’t really know how to play or do you just wanna get close to me?” you ask, turning your head to look at him while he chin hooks over your shoulder. “You caught me,” he blushes, hand resting on your hip while he fills the gap between your back and his chest, “I’m sure you’re gonna do just fine.” 

And you do, in fact, you’re really fucking good at pinball and he’s almost mad about it. “Where did you learn to do this?” he asks after you rack up nearly three fourths of his high score in one go, the ball just narrowly missing the lever before sinking down to be propelled again. 

“Summers on the boardwalk in New Hampshire,” you grin, “My uncle lives over there so we go visit him every year. Played one pinball machine every summer – my high score still stands, like, eleven years later.” “That’s so hot to me, oh my god,” he laughs while you get the next ball rolling onto the board. You lean forward, hips jutting out against him while you really get into it, concentrating hard. Eddie’s breath hitches when you slowly move your hips against him, so slow that he’s not sure if you’re doing it on purpose or not.  Rihanna’s Work starts over the speakers and  that’s when he knows it’s on purpose. Your movement’s pick up a little, lost in the game and in the beat. You’re a good dancer and that makes his mind wander to other things you might be good at. Your fingers work quick on either side of the machine, lights flashes against both of your faces while you keep trying to win and he keeps trying to not pull your skirt up in the middle of Barcade. 

While the song continues, he stops paying attention to you playing, so caught up in how your waist winds and ass bounces against him that he doesn’t realize you aren’t even playing any more. His hips grind slowly back against you, one hand on your lower back, the other gripping your hip to keep you in position. This isn’t new territory for him, pulled into clubs by Tati and Gare, Robin and Steve, everyone else, from the moment things opened back up again in Indiana. When you look back at him he short circuits at first, but he knows you’re surprised he can dance like this. Maybe you forgot, but he does teach Music Theory – rhythm is kind of his whole thing. Of course he has it.  

Your hips roll, making your ass run painstakingly slow and firm over his hardening cock. A groan gets stuck in his throat, reaching out to your shoulder to pull you up right again with your back against his chest. 

“You like bein’ a tease?” he asks, voice deep and daunting. 

“Just getting you back for what you did under the table,” you say matter-of-factly, turning around to face him with your butt leaning against the machine, “You’re not the only one here who knows how to be a slut.” “Also, I beat you,” you grin. 

“Looks like you did,” he says, eyes passing yours to look at the new high score glowing on the outdated screen. 

“Do I win a prize?” 

“M’sure I can think of something,” he murmurs, lips pressing against yours while both of your eyes flutter closed. He takes your hand, leading you to the dark corner close by, both of you hidden by the now defunct change machine to press you up against the wall. “What do you think you deserve?” he purrs before catching your mouth in his again. His kiss is a little sloppy, a little needy, it’s the four shots of Jameson. Not too drunk to drive, but buzzed enough that he doesn’t care about his kissing technique, he just wants to taste you. “Oh, it’s like that?” you giggle mischievously, “I don’t think we can do what I think I deserve in a public place.” 

“Hmm, okay, not into exhibitionism I guess,” he huffs a laugh while his kisses trail to your neck, knee slotting between your legs where you eagerly press up against him. He feels one of your hands fall into his hair, making his assault on the crook of your neck more intense when you give it a slight pull. “Kiss me,” you whine softly. “M’sorry, sorry,” he smirks, meeting your lips again, “You just smell really good, I like being in there.” “You’re a really good –” Kiss. “Mmm--kisser.” “Thanks, sugar, you’re –” Kiss. “Not so bad your –” Kiss. “Mmm shit – yourself.”  He can barely think like this, so close to you but not close enough. Hands on your waist and hips to guide you against part of his thigh while a little whine pulls out of you. He can’t hold off much longer, feeling his pants grow unbearably tight. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he mumbles against your jaw, a satisfied smile blooms on his face when you roll your hips against his knee again. 

“You don’t wanna hear everyone drunkenly sing Steve happy – oh, mmm – happy birthday?” you pant out while he presses kisses at the curve of your jaw back to your mouth. His hand entwines with the hair at the nape of your neck, giving you a soft tug to keep your head in place. 

“The only thing I wanna hear right now,” he purrs in your ear, “Is what you sound like when I’m making you cum.” 

The ride home is quick, barely saying goodbyes while he pulled you through the crowds building at the bar and paid the tab. Gareth shot him a wink as they left, tossing you both a wave but neither of you could think of anything else except each other. 

He dropped his keys twice trying to get in the door of his first floor apartment, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you smile, “Just breathe. I’m still gonna be here.” 

The door opens and he takes a millisecond to rip your coat off and kick off his shoes, instructing you to kick off your sneakers or Tati would likely emerge from the walls and kill you both for walking into the house with your outside shoes on. His lips immediately attach to yours. There’s no time to waste for him, pulling you over to the couch and plopping down with an excited puff of breath. “C’mere baby,” he beckons you over with two fingers, grinning up at you while you climb over his lap to straddle him. His kiss is searing, hands exploring you with abandon, all the ways he’s been thinking about touching you were now fair play. No one here to see either of you, no one around to interrupt. You can feel how hard he is under his dress pants, the material leaves little to the imagination. The gentle curve of it, its thickness, the length, all pressing up against you with every mutual roll of your hips. 

You choke out a whimper when it hits just right up against your clothed slit. Eddie looks up at you mischievously, greedily sucking on your neck for a moment before catching your gaze a little.

“That’s all it takes? Just pushing my hips up like that?” he purrs, rolling them up again slowly, “Is that what you want?”

“Uh-huh,” you breathe. He bites at the skin on your chest, not hard enough to hurt. He grips and grabs you but not hard enough to bruise. He’s testing the waters, seeing what you like and how you like it. His hands travel down past your hips, gripping the fat of your ass.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your mouth, exploring you more, his palms flattening against your skirt while it rides up, the curve of your cheeks warm in his hands. 

“Finally got to grab it the way you wanted to?” you tease between breaths. 

“Mhmm,” he groans, “Now I just gotta smack it around.” 

You take his lower lip between your teeth, making his cock twitch when you let it go to click back against his gums. 

“Ooh, you wanna spank me?” you laugh into your next kiss. His hand reaches up to pull at your waist, pushing you tighter up against him. His fingers graze between your legs from behind while your head falls back in a breathy gasp. 

“Do you want me to spank you?” he asks, brows raised inquisitively.  

“Maybe not tonight,” you shrug with a smirk, hips winding over him in a way that makes him really feel you. He growls when you do it, hands guiding your hips to do it again, “Maybe only when I’ve been bad.” 

“Jus’lemme know,” he grumbles, pupils taking over the brown in his eyes, “So I can  — mmm, shit — teach ya a lesson.” 

“Next time,” you huff into his next kiss. He manhandles you so that your back is to the cushions and throw pillows, switching your positions so that he’s on top.

“Next time,” he nods, pulling your sweatshirt off and dropping it to the floor, “But since you’re so good, it only makes sense that you get a reward, right?” 

“I did beat you at pinball, so…” you grin. He grins back, kissing your neck hungrily, slotting his knee between your legs like he did at the bar. 

“You did beat me at pinball,” he nods, a soft growl brewing in his chest when he feels you start to grind against him. Insatiable, he thinks, Greedy girl. But he doesn’t know if he can say that to you yet. He doesn’t know, all the way, what you like. He feels his heart hammer in his chest at the fear of realizing it – you aren’t Chrissy. What if he was only good because Chrissy thought so? What if he wasn’t actually – 

“Oh!” you squeak out, hand reaching out to grip his bicep. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away from your neck to look at you, big brown eyes blown with nerves. 

“Y-yeah that’s just…where you’re kissing…that’s a spot for me,” you admit bashfully, unable to look at him. 

“Sweetheart,” he shakes his head with a knowing smirk, “Shouldn’t’ve told me that.” 

A kiss on the lips is his only consolation to you before he goes back to your neck, tongue trailing down to its last spot where he parks his teeth and lips. You like that. He hears you like it. And fucking God is it good to hear you like this, to hear you in person, moaning and whining in his ear just from kissing and sucking this spot on your neck. 

“Eddie…” you breathe, high pitched and desperate, hips still pressing against his knee for friction. He can’t help but go back to your lips, but before he does, he peeks to see the marks he left behind. 

Lips become neck, neck becomes chest, chest becomes stomach, stomach becomes hips, and before you know it he’s on his knees on the rug in front of you. Eddie’s eyes find yours when he’s kneeling between your legs, the center of your thighs looking him in the face. He places a kissing on the inside of your knee, gentle and soft. 

He opens his mouth to ask, but you nearly read his mind, tugging up the hem of your skirt over your thick thighs. He helps, pushing the fabric up over your hips and ass so he gets another chance to touch and feel you. Once he settles back down he takes a breath, smiling up at you while he readjusts your legs to open a little wider, mouth making contact with your skin soon after. His lips capture the fat of your inner thigh, traveling down in passionate kisses, like your skin is divinity that he’s found for the first time. 

“You’re so soft,” he whispers, lips ghosting over your underwear to reach the top of your other knee, planting a kiss there too. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out. He lets out a low, teasing giggle at the state of you, head lolling back on the couch while he kisses the inside of one thigh and runs his hand over the outside of the other. His kisses stop and he looks up at you from between your legs, big brown eyes begging you to let him in. A ringed finger teases over the gusset of your underwear, the way you bite your lip gives him the approval to keep going. His slides your panties off, run of the mill black cheeky cut cotton that he wished he could’ve stripped you down to. Just to see that ass swallowing them, to see the way they sat on the curves of your hips. 

“You nervous?” he asks with a smile while your legs close, your underwear placed on the floor next to your shirt.

“A little,” you giggle. 

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he coos, hands cupping under your knees to spread your legs again, “Just gonna make you feel good.” 

He sighs when your legs open up for him, already wet and puffy, you’d been thinking about this all night. Eddie nips softly at your inner thigh again before he lets his lips linger over your folds. You squirm your hips closer to him, a whine leaking out of your mouth. 

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, “I won’t tease you, I’m sorry.” 

But he’s lying. Leaning in to get close, only to ghost a breath over your clit. Fingers sliding to your slick lips to separate them slightly for more access to you. He pauses, leaning back away from your pussy and looks up at you quizzically.

“Actually, should I put on Hey Mr. DJ to set the mood? Since it’s so fucknasty…” gesturing his thumb towards the sound system on the other side of the room. You let out a mix of a laugh and a groan while his kisses coast on your thighs again.

“You said you wouldn’t teaaaasssseeee-oh my God,” you moan out when his mouth meets your clit without warning, soft, slow sucks and licks. 

“You like that, sugar?” he asks, voice dropping down to a bassy gravel. 

You nod feverishly, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” 

“Mmm, don’t stop?” he asks, tongue gliding from your entrance to your clit. 

“Please,” you gasp, hand reaching out to run through his hair, bangs pushing back to reveal the soft lines of his forehead. 

“Well you’re asking so nice, seems a little mean to keep you waiting,” he coos, fingers replacing his mouth while he talks, “But I thought you liked it when I was a little mean.” 

“Don’t be mean, Ed,” you pout. 

“Okay, I won’t be mean,” he smiles, opening your legs a little wider. He’s confident about his skills here, Chris loved getting eaten out so he dedicated a lot of time to getting it right. It helped that he loved going down, watching his partner gasp and whine while he serves her on his knees. Feeling the tug on his hair when he’s doing it right, making her feel good. The press of her hand to push him closer to her when she’s getting close, giving it to her over and over again. 

“Oh fuck, Ed — oh my god, baby,” you mewl, hips grinding up against his mouth. He smirks into the next stripe of his tongue, latching onto your clit to suck softly while his fingers press against your entrance. His eyes gaze up at you, your own going glassy while you look down at him. 

“I like when you look at me like that,” he confesses quietly, mouth returning to its actions immediately. He keeps his eyes on you while his first finger pushes in, he groans at the feeling — snug, warm, wet. He drags out slowly, a high pitched moan escaping you when he pushes back in with little resistance. His head moves with his mouth, tongue laving over your clit, lips pursing over it when he feels your pulse over his finger. 

“You’re so good — fuck — you’re so good at this,” you sigh. The praise runs down his chest and along his spine, he moans gratefully into his next kiss against you. He stripes his tongue again, using his other hand to keep your lips spread for more access. Your thighs twitch while he goes back to soft deliberate sucking, alternating between that and gentle fluttering flicks from the tip of his tongue. 

“That’s good for you?” he mumbles. 

“You’re so good for me,” you whisper back, gripping his hair hard when he pushes his second finger in, “Just…unhm, just like that.” 

He keeps a steady pace with his fingers, evidence of his skill coating them while he does. He wants to drag this out a while, take his time with you like he said he would. He breaks his mouth away for a moment to really look at you, just in your bra and skirt. His heart skips a beat, breath caught in his throat. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. Too afraid to say it outloud. What if you don’t like that while you have sex? You said you like when he was a little mean, does that mean he should be mean all the time? 

“Earth to Ed…” he hears you say, your hand waving in his face. He looks back up at you, startled, “You okay? You stopped and sort of just…stared for a second.” 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” he laughs to himself, taking his fingers away to massage the inside of your thighs with both hands, “Just got caught up staring at you.” 

“Ew,” you giggle with a smile, “You think I’m pretty or somethin’?” 

Eddie leans up between your legs on the couch where you come down to meet him, noses inches apart, “Well I don’t wanna be too forward…” 

“You’re literally eating me out, you can’t get any more forward,” you both laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Of both being shaky and shy even this far into the game. 

“Like I was saying — I don’t wanna be too forward, but I think you’re honestly so beautiful,” he blushes bashfully, looking down so all you can see are his full lashes, “And I didn’t wanna be corny and say it while I’m like, neck deep in your pussy.”

“That’s very sweet, baby.” You run your hand through his hair, pushing back one side when he looks up at you again. Baby. He likes when you call him that. He likes when you call him baby. He’s excited for you to call him other names like pretty boy, and babe, and honey. He wants to hear ‘em all. He wants you to spend the night so he can make you breakfast in the morning — for like…ever. You kiss him and he shudders, cock jumping in his slacks for a hint of attention — but he has a job to finish. 

“You’re very sweet,” he says, nuzzling your nose before kissing your cheek, then your jawline, your neck, your chest, down and further down until he’s between your legs again — he doesn’t tease this time. He licks at your entrance, replacing his fingers with his tongue to lap up what you have for him. Your thighs tremble he trails back up, swirling his tongue over your clit when his fingers snugly sink back inside you. 

“Eddie…” 

“You gonna cum for me?” he asks, voice smokey and deep. He lets his fingers search inside you for your g-spot, grinning when he finds it. Your moan is loud when he massages it, hips pushing down into the couch cushions, head thrown back while you grind against him. 

“M’so close,” you huff, “That feels so good, please don’t stop. Don’tstopdon’tstop.” 

He grunts, feeling your thighs jump while he keeps up his pace. His tongue gets sloppy with it, wet and filthy, pooling spit out of his mouth in droves to mix with your slick. He fills you with a third finger, legs parting further again while you huff into the stretch. 

“Ooh, you can really take it, baby,” he encourages, “Look at you takin’ all these fingers.” He glides the flat of his tongue over you once before leaning back to watch you. The pads of his fingers press in slow circles against your g-spot again, smirking when your eyes roll back. 

“M’gonna cum…oh shit  — oh fuck Ed I’m g.. — ohfuck — fuckfuckfuck — mmm-ah!” Your hips jump, lifting off the couch, writhing to pull away while you feel your orgasm rush rapidly to its peak. 

“Thaaaat’s it,” he smiles, mouth returning home to its place latched over you. He holds your hips down with his free hand, eyes fluttering closed while he continues. A slight flit of his tongue right as he pumps his fingers in puts stars in your eyes, thighs snapping closed on either side of his head — exactly what he wanted.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you chant with strained, shaking vocal chords, tears pricking your eyes. Eddie groans when he feels your walls clench down hard over his fingers, flooding over him down his hand. You hiss while he keeps going, fingers easing out of you but tongue licking up as much as he can while you come down in shivers. 

“You okay?” he asks, when your thighs release him. You reach for his hand, still covered in your juices and pull it toward you — but he knows your game. He knows you’re gonna lick it off and give him those eyes — so he pulls his wrist away, “Oh, no baby.”  

Eddie delicately puts his fingers in his mouth, eyes on yours with a glint of satisfaction, and gently sucks them clean instead. 

“I don’t like to waste it, sugar,” he croons, “I can make you something if you’re hungry.” 

His sexy act breaks when you roll your eyes at him, clearly flustered by his antics in your post orgasm glow. He snickers when he stands up, leaning down to peck you with your arousal still smeared on his mouth and chin. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pouts back. A peck turns to a kiss, a kiss to something passionate. 

“Why don’t I go get cleaned up,” he starts, before catching you in another kiss.

“You should pee since that’s the smart thing to do before and after,” he presses a kiss to your neck.

“And then I’ll take you to bed,” he murmurs huskily, “How’s that?” 

“That’s really nice,” you rasp back, turning so that you’re nose to nose, “But I am a little hungry now that you said that.” 

“You’re funny,” he smiles, another kiss, “I’ll get us a snack and then I’ll take you to bed, is that better?” 

“Much better.”  

Eddie passes you your panties and shirt, and points out where the bathroom is down the hall. While you traipse along, he opens the fridge, taking out the tiramisu he got as dessert with his takeout last night but didn’t get around to eating. He slices the generous cut in half, gently placing it on two tea plates and grabbing two forks. 

“Do you like tiramisu?” he asks when he hears your socked feet pad into the kitchen. 

“I do. My mom’s is the best actually,” you brag. He turns around to see you, your bright smile, your refreshed face. 

“Will you still eat it if it’s not your mom’s?” he asks, offering you the plate. 

“Yes, of course,” you nod, taking both plates out of his hands and placing them on the table, “But first I gotta –” 

Eddie’s taken aback by the kiss, but you don’t notice. He’s swift at the pick up, matching your pace expertly and hoisting you up onto the counter with surprising ease. He grunts when you pull him forward between your legs by the belt loops because he knows you’re trying to fuck just as much as he is. 

“Baby…” he starts, regretfully breaking away, “Are you hungry or not?” 

You don’t answer at first, you just look at him and kiss him again. When you pull away, your gaze lingers. Fear coasts icily over his chest when you almost look forlorn. 

“Shit…” you whisper, shoulders drooping. 

“Wh-what? What is it?” he asks, hands getting clammy where they rest on your thighs.

“I…” you take a deep breath, it shakes when you exhale, “I really fucking like you.” 

He smiles, but he knows why this is your response, why you look like this, why your shoulders sulk — because he’s also there, “Does that make you scared?” 

You nod, but instead of going in to kiss you again he pulls you close, smooching your cheek before leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“It’s okay that you’re scared,” he murmurs, “But if it’s any consolation…”

“I really fucking like you, too.” 

When you kiss again, he’s overwhelmed. 

“Fuck the tiramisu,” you breathe, “Let’s just —.” 

“Mhm,” he breathes back, hoisting you off the counter, balancing you on his hips, “I fucking need you.” 

Jingle. Click. Creak. 

“HONEY, WE’RE HOME!” calls the voice of a sloshed Steve Harrington, from the front door, “Put your clothes on, sluts.” 

But it’s not just Steve, it’s the whole party — the group filing into the living room while you hurriedly slide down Eddie’s form. Tatianna and Gareth follow in after everyone gets their shoes off, laughing and joking with Robin and Dustin while they stumble through the door. They halt when they catch Eddie’s expression from the other room, a stare so cold it could freeze them both. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Gareth mouths, realizing with deep regret what they’ve interrupted. Tatianna makes her way over, making a face of pure guilt when she makes it into the kitchen. 

“So here’s the thing, my phone died and Steve was using Gareth’s phone to change the music and I forgot to text you,” she explains to the both of you, “I’m so sorry.” 

���It’s seriously okay,” you laugh, “Please don’t feel bad. It’s you and Gareth’s apartment, too.” 

“Are you mad at me?” Tati pouts at Eddie, who could not stay mad at Tati for even a second. 

He puffs a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms, “No, no, I’m not mad at you. It’s okay.” 

“Okay,” she smiles, opening her arms for a hug which he obliges without question, “Gare’s sorry too, but unfortunately he’s busy babysitting Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum with Nance.”  Eddie looks down at you when he lets go of Tatianna, reaching his hand out to rub your back, “She means Robin and Steve.” 

“I figured,” you smile. Tatianna makes her exit and you’re both alone in the kitchen again. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie offers, using the leverage of his hand on your back to pull you in close to him. 

“What, why? There’s nothing to be sorry for,” you furrow your brow, forearms leaning up the length of his chest. The opening bass of Dua Lipa’s One Kiss starts to thump from the soundsystem in the living room into the kitchen, along with Steve’s passionate This is my favorite fucking song, holy shit. 

“Everything got ruined,” he frowns, “I’m like, kind of embarrassed.” 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you urge, pulling him a little closer to give him a reassuring kiss, “There’s always next time. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

“No?” he asks, leaning his forehead against yours, “You’re stayin’ right here?” 

“Well, until I have to go to home,” you shrug. The music gets a little louder and Eddie throws his disappointment to the wind. There is always next time. For now, he has you here in his kitchen, lips on yours, hands on your cheeks, the steady thump of the beat of his heart. And of course, Steve drunk crying to Robin in the living room – You’re literally my best fucking friend. You’re my best fucking friend Rob, I love you so much. 

Eddie giggles against your mouth at the sound, an ache caught in his chest. He really fucking likes you. 

[seelestars]

➴ ✫ * ✧ TYPES OF DATES THEY’D TAKE YOU ON (HSR characters)

includes : jing yuan , blade , dan heng , kafka , seele , himeko

JING YUAN : he’d take you shopping ! he shows a lot of his affection through gifts, so he wants you to pick anything you want ♪( ´▽｀) he’s a gentleman, would carry your bags for you as you two continue strolling through the streets ! if you guys go shopping for clothes, he will gladly tell you his opinions on the different outfits you try on (except he thinks you look good in anything hehe) maybe he even recommends clothes that he think would look spectacular on you ! buys you some food and snacks along the way too, insisting to hand feed it to u

DAN HENG : he’d take you to the beach ! he blushes slightly at first when seeing you wear a swimsuit (imagine either a bikini or swim trunks depending on what u prefer) if you like building sand castles, he’d help you ! or you might even have a little competition to see who can build the bigger sand castle~ if you wanna do sand art, that’s fine too ! he’d draw you and him together in the sand with a heart (except he doesn’t have rlly good art skills so it’s just u n him as stickmen) if you wanted to swim, he would swim w u . u splash water on him , expecting him to splash u back but he just sits there letting you soak him in water like the sweet boy he is :( he just wants to please u

BLADE : he’d take you to an aquarium ! he secretly thinks the fish are very cute and cool , you will probs catch him zoning out while staring at them lol .. so in order to get his attention again , you press a few kisses to his cheek , causing his ears to turn red as he stares at you … u insist on taking pics w him, so with a reluctant sigh , he does all the silly poses you want to do with him (like using ur arms to make hearts etc etc) I imagine he has some weird obscure facts about the sea life in the aquarium , so if you’re willing he might go on a small rant about them what a cutie patootie.. might even point out the fishes that remind him of u

KAFKA : she’d take you to the movies ! she’s fine with any genre, so it’s up to u to pick . if u choose horror , she’d be elated bcuz deep down she wants u to cling to her whenever u get scared hehe ! if u choose smth like romance , she would probs go “that could be us if you wanted~” with a smile as she turns to you .. she likes seeing the blush that blooms on ur cheeks whenever she says things like that . def makes a lot of comments if she even remotely sees the protagonist act like u do ! sometimes , she even makes comments about the movie . like how certain parts r cheesy (bold coming from her), or how some parts seem too fake .. she’s an enthusiast about analyzing films ..

HIMEKO : she’d take you to a cat cafe ! she thinks the cats r rlly cute , plus it’s a cafe ! so she can have coffee while playing w the cats along w u ! when she spots a cat that looks / reminds her of u , she points it out before putting the cat on her lap , smiling at u .. she’ll even put it on ur lap and take pictures of you two together ! would share the desserts and drinks with you (im talking like putting two straws into smth like a milkshake, except she would use urs sometimes for the indirect kiss ..) , might even hand feed you some of it (๑╹ω╹๑ ) the type to lick a crumb off your lips if u had any lol (it’s a plus for her watching you get flustered at the action)

SEELE : she’d take you on a picnic ! she’s a person who prefers more simpler things , and it’s no different when it comes to dates ! but don’t worry , u two still have a good time hehe ☆〜（ゝ。∂）surprisingly , she brings more sweet things then anything else .. she’s a bit of a sweet tooth (even though she gets a lil embarrassed about it if you call her out on it lol) if any animals pass by , she might share some food w it (she has a soft spot for animals .. ) it’s even better if you guys watch the sunset or stargaze while having the picnic, she thinks the sky is very beautiful .. she probs knows the name of all the diff constellations and stars n will gladly tell u them while gesturing towards each one in the sky

[exponenshul]

Life Drawing

SYNOPSIS: A pregnant woman is offered big money to pose as a nude model for a two hour figure drawing class, but her water breaks right before she's set to start. Can she make it through the class without a problem? (Contains pregnancy and birth. Reader discretion advised.)

::::::::::

Faith patiently rode up the elevator, trying to keep her nerves in check. This was a big day for her...she had to keep her cool.

She was currently full term pregnant, and certainly showed it. Her belly was impressively full and round, skin smooth and taut. She looked like she could go into labor any moment. That wasn't why she was there today, however.

Professionally, Faith worked as an art model. For years she went to art schools, posing nude for students' figure drawings. It was a role that took a lot of confidence and patience. Since getting pregnant, not only had she needed to change her techniques, but business was booming.

Getting a model to pose was one thing; getting a pregnant one was another. She was a hot commodity currently, and the school she was visiting was willing to pay her a lot of money to do a session. Enough money that she wouldn't dare pass it up, even though she was ready to pop any day.

And so, Faith rode the elevator up to the fourth floor, where the figure drawing studios were located. She took a deep breath, steeling herself to face the students and do her best work.

Once she arrived, she first met the older lady professor, who greeted her warmly and with gratitude.

"Thank you for coming in today, Faith!" The professor said. "It's not often we get to draw from a model with your, well...body type! Haha."

Faith chuckled. "Well, thank you for having me! Always a pleasure. I'm excited to get to work."

The professor guided Faith down the hall and to the classroom. The students were all present already, seated behind easels and pads of paper, forming a circle around a platform in the middle of the room, where Faith would be posing.

"Class, this is Faith, our model for today," The professor announced. "Please give her a warm welcome and treat her with respect!"

Faith looked around the room, smiling and giving a small wave. Typical for tired college students, most looked to her with blank expressions, though she got some smiles back. She noticed that many kept glancing toward her belly, but that was to be expected. Her pregnancy would no doubt be the focus of the session.

"I'm going to go change and then I'll be ready to start!" Faith said warmly. The professor prompted the students to take out their drawing materials while Faith left to find the bathroom.

::::::::::

She was changing, yes, but also realized the importance of emptying her bladder before having to sit on a platform for two hours. As she sat, she was steeling her nerves. Although she'd done this many times before, it was still anxiety-inducing having to stand naked in front of so many watching eyes. And the more pregnant she got, the more she felt like students were...ogling her. Like she was a spectacle. But for the money she'd be getting, she had to perform at her best.

Sighing, she patted her belly. She'd just felt a tug in her middle. Perhaps her baby was nervous as well?

But then, she felt a certain release inside her. She gasped as she felt a torrent of fluid gush out from her crotch.

Horrified, she looked between her legs and into the toilet bowl. It definitely was not pee. But that meant...

She'd been feeling these sort of cramps earlier in the day and the previous night, but she'd figured it was just indigestion, or Braxton hicks at the most. But seeing that her water had just broken, Faith realized she was in labor.

Faith cursed. Why did this have to happen now, when she was about to score one of her highest paying gigs in years?! There was no way she'd get an opportunity like this again, especially after she had the baby...

She sat a moment longer as her mind raced. Well, labor typically lasted many hours, right? If she could get through the session, she could fulfill her job and still get to the hospital soon after...right?

Faith rubbed her belly and took a deep breath. "Hang on, baby. We've got some poses to do."

::::::::::

Faith reentered the classroom wearing nothing but a thin robe. The students turned their heads toward her expectantly.

"Welcome back! Are you ready to start, Faith?" The professor asked.

"Sure am," Faith said, trying her best to sound enthusiastic. She made her way to the center of the room as the professor explained the plan to the class.

"All right students, like I said, be respectful of our model's time and services. Absolutely NO cell phones or cameras are allowed to be out while she is in the room. We are going to start with shorter, more dynamic poses and work our way toward longer poses."

Faith took a deep breath. This was all standard stuff. She'd be fine.

She got up onto the platform, where there was a wooden chair, a gallon of water with some cups, and a heating fan waiting for her, to keep her comfortable as she worked. As she poured herself some water and turned on the fan, the professor continued on.

"We'll start with ten one-minute poses to start off and get warmed up. These will be quick, so get down the essentials."

As the students prepped their drawing materials and paper pads, Faith began undoing her robe. Students glanced at her, trying not to seem like they were staring. But that was all right, they were going to be staring at her anyway—it was just part of the lesson.

"After each set of poses, we'll take short breaks to review our work and let Faith rest," The professor said, pulling a timer from her pocket. "Now, let's begin!"

With that, Faith removed her robe, setting it on the chair behind her, and revealing her fully nude pregnant form to the students. They took in her curves, her engorged breasts, the swell of her belly. All from a professional standpoint, of course. They were there to learn, not to ogle.

Things started off pretty smoothly. Faith began with her usual quick, dynamic poses—stretching her arms out as if reaching for something, twisting around, kneeling—all things that showed off her pregnant curves. The students worked quickly and diligently, moving their drawing implements deftly to capture her form with each new pose. Nobody spoke, so the only sounds were of pencil to paper, breathing, and the soft, meditative music the professor had set to play.

Between the seventh and eighth poses, though, Faith felt it—a contraction. It was strong, signaling that she was definitely in labor. Her body tensed and she grimaced, but she tried to play it off, making it seem like it was just a part of her switching poses. If she started visibly showing that she was in labor, she'd have to give up the job for sure.

She powered through the rest of the one-minute poses without another hitch. As the students flipped their sketchbook pages and sharpened their pencils, she took a breather and glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes in, another hour and forty-five to go.

The professor got the class's attention. "All right, students! Now that we're warmed up, we're going to move on to the next portion—six poses of five minutes each."

Faith braced herself. She had to really focus now.

"Now is the time to start focusing on details," The professor continued. "Get the basic shapes down, then fill in the values to really capture our model's form. Let's begin!"

Faith brought out her repertoire of mid-length poses, ones that she could hold for a longer period of time but were still somewhat dynamic. For the first one, she stood with her legs apart, hands pressed against her back and jutting her belly out. No problems there.

Just before the pose was set to end, though, she felt another tug in her gut, slightly stronger than the last. She exhaled and bent forward a bit, moving one of her arms to hold her belly. A couple of the students gave her a look.

After a moment, the professor's stop watch beeped. She looked at Faith and said lightly, "Thank you, but if you could, please hold the pose up until the timer goes off."

"R-right," Faith said, somewhat embarrassed. She never broke a pose before the time was up like that. "Sorry, the baby was just...kicking."

She had to use more self control. It wouldn't be good to have the professor annoyed at her, or worse, suspicious of what was happening.

Faith kept working through the next two poses. She chose positions that were dynamic, but that were easy to hide any pain or flinching if need be. The next contraction came in between the third and fourth poses in the set, so she was able to be discreet about it. They were ten minutes apart now...not so bad. She was going to be fine.

Still, her heart rate was picking up as she tried to run through a game plan in her mind. As soon as the poses were done, she would go to the hospital. But should she really be driving in her condition? She could take the bus, but no, that would take too long...and an ambulance would be expensive, and cause a commotion...

She was near the end of the fifth pose and weighing her options as the next contraction hit, but she handled it well. She braced herself and held her breath, and she only barely twitched. She just hoped that nobody was able to notice her muscles contracting from their vantage points, because she was certainly feeling them.

Feeling confident as they entered the last five-minute pose, Faith went for a more dynamic angle, lunging forward with her arms raised as if she were running. She thought it would be fine, but to her discontent, another contraction hit just past the second minute. It caught her more off guard and she winced slightly, her back leg shaking for a moment until she could get a hold of herself.

That was definitely less than ten minutes. She glanced at the clock...was it eight minutes? No, seven...?

Her anxiety was rising by the time the five-minute poses were through and the class took a brief respite. After putting on her robe, she sat down, drank some water and took deep breaths. The professor walked around the classroom, admiring the students' work.

"These are all wonderful," she said proudly. "Faith, would you like to come see some of the sketches?"

"Ah, I think I'll wait and see some later," Faith breathed, as politely as she could. In all honesty, she was most focused on staying as still as possible so she could focus on riding out the contractions. She felt another one as she sat there and cursed under her breath, rubbing her bulging, restless belly. Soon, baby, just hold on...

After a few more minutes, it was time to start the second half of the session. They were an hour in and had an hour left to go.

The professor brought some large cushions up to the platform Faith was sitting at. "Since we'll be starting on our longer poses, I thought you could use these to stay comfortable."

Faith appreciated the gesture, but knew she was going to be far from comfortable.

With that, the professor went back and addressed the class. "Okay, students! You've done well so far. Now we're going to try some longer, more detail-oriented drawings. Spend time on studying how light falls across the model's body, how her muscles are laid out under the skin. We will do three poses of fifteen minutes each, with short breaks in between."

Faith gulped and steeled herself. All right, she could do this. She just had to finish the last few poses. Get through fifteen minutes, three times. Secure the payday. Then she should call an Uber and get out of here to deliver her baby.

For the first pose, she set up the cushions and lay down on her side, one arm propping her up and the other draped across her belly. She knew she would have to ride out two or three contractions during this pose, so she needed to be as relaxed as possible.

The students began to sketch and draw, watching her intently, focusing on every part of her. To a degree, she was used to this, but right now she was feeling particularly vulnerable. They were all watching her progress through labor, and they didn't know it...or did they? Could they tell when her naked body tensed up? Did they know she was in labor but just weren't saying anything...? No, no, she was passing it off just fine. No need to make herself more anxious than she already was.

The next contraction came. It was the most intense and drawn out yet. She held her breath and ever-so-subtly tightened her grip on the swell of her belly. Her baby was shifting inside her, ready to be born.

Faith could feel herself getting sweaty from the exertion and the anxiety. Labor was progressing much more quickly than she thought. She tried to control her breathing, but her heart was starting to pound. Each minute was going by painfully slow, yet all too fast at the same time. By the time the next contraction hit her, less than five minutes later, she felt like she hadn't even gotten any rest in between. And yet, she kept her pose diligently.

Breathing through the tight, painful squeezing of her muscles, Faith tried to stay focused. She had an idea of what she would do for the next two poses. Then, in between them, she could quickly use her phone to call over an Uber, so that it would be waiting for her as soon as the class ended. She was realizing now that there wasn't going to be much time to spare.

The next contraction gripped her hard. Her breath caught and she tensed up in a way that was definitely noticeable. Luckily, the professor was distracted admiring the students' work and the students themselves couldn't have cared less.

Faith clenched her jaw. According to the clock, it had been only four minutes since the last one. Her contractions were rapidly getting closer together, and each one was stronger than the last. Would she really be able to do this?

Mercifully, after that contraction, the pose ended. Faith sat up, doing her best to act natural, but she was getting tired. She would be tired at this point in any normal pose session, but right now she was really spent. It was going to take a good amount of willpower to even get into her next position.

She looked around for her phone, wanting to schedule her Uber ride. She then realized it was still in her bag with her clothes, across the room. Well, so much for that plan. There was no way she wanted to get up and walk around right now...surely that would only accelerate her labor.

Another contraction. It was strong, blinding. This labor was going way too fast. She could feel the baby moving down.

"Faith, are you ready for the next pose?" The professor inquired.

"Yes," Faith managed. "Just...a moment."

Fighting the pain and pressure, she eased herself into the next pose. It was on her knees and elbows, head held up as best as possible, belly hanging low, grazing the soft cushions beneath her. Nothing too strenuous, and at this angle, she hoped gravity would help her delay her labor.

It was a good plan that unfortunately did not yield much success. Faith kept facing more and more contractions, each one causing her to strain. She was quickly learning how to cover it up, but there were things she couldn't help, like her belly gently lifting up from the cushion when her muscles tensed, and her breath catching when the pain gripped her. She just needed to be discreet enough that no one would call her out...but this labor was relentless.

Nearing the end of the pose, Faith was of course hit with another contraction- she had lost count of how many there were at this point. They had to be less than three minutes apart. With this one, she could feel the mass within her shift, like the baby's head was entering her birth canal. She gritted her teeth but could not prevent the rough grunt that escaped her throat.

This time, several people noticed. Eyes glanced up from sketch pads.

The professor tilted her head. "Faith? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, all good," Faith lied. "Just...a cough."

"All right. Well, very good- let's take a short rest before the final pose, class."

It felt almost impossible for Faith to move, but she managed to slowly get back into a casual sitting position. She was sweating bullets now, palms slick, hair matted, the skin on her belly glistening. Her belly rested heavily on her as the mass settled into her pelvis. The strain was becoming overwhelming...she desperately wanted to be in a cool hospital room, epidural at the ready...but she was almost done here. One more pose. Just fifteen minutes remained.

Plus, she had a plan for this last one. It would be the perfect way to-

"Faith?" The professor called. "If you don't mind, I have a request for this last pose."

Faith's heart pounded and she breathed heavily. "S-sure, of course."

"If you could, I'd like you to go on your back, sitting up slightly. And if you could have your knees up, hands resting on your thighs...I think this would be an important pose for us to study."

Faith's mind reeled. She couldn't believe it...the professor was asking her to get into what was unmistakably a birthing position. But there was no way she could refuse. "N-no problem...just...just give me a second."

She tried to hype herself up. She'd spent years in this practice building stamina and learning how to endure. She was strong, she could do this. But as she got into position, resting back against the cushions, she was hit with a contraction- and an undeniable, instinctual feeling.

She was feeling the urge to push. Already, she was fully dilated. There wasn't much time. The baby was coming now!

No, no! She thought to herself, hopelessly trying to keep her cool. We're almost done! I can't give birth now!

The professor must have seen the look on the poor woman's face. "Are you sure this is comfortable for you, Faith?"

"I'm fine," Faith grunted, as she sat back with her knees up, legs spread. "Just start the timer."

And thus, the final countdown began. Faith needed to gather every ounce of her willpower to make it through, but her strength was dwindling. Her eyes twitched as she struggled to maintain a straight face. Her arms and legs spasmed at random as she tried to keep from trembling. And now, the contractions were just about on top of each other. Her baby was definitely moving its way down into her birth canal, and she was naked with her legs splayed. But she had to hold on.

Five minutes passed. The urge to push was becoming unbearable. Faith's belly quaked and heaved with her breathing, now dripping with sweat. She desperately wanted to clutch it, to try and coax the baby into staying inside, but she was forced to keep her hands on her thighs. Her nails dug into her flesh painfully as she tensed. By not pushing, she was going against every natural instinct. Feeling the baby slowly push through her was torturous. Her body was screaming at her, but still, she did not give in.

"Mmph..." she murmured, behind pursed lips. Quiet, but again audible enough to be heard. Her eyes darted around the classroom. The students who had been observing her body and drawing it for the past couple hours were beginning to tell that something was off...she could feel it. She saw it in the way some of them looked at her longer, or differently, with hints of concern in their eyes. Some of them glanced at each other, perhaps to see if anyone else was noticing. Would any of them say something? Did they think it was part of the session- that she was just a great actor?

Ten minutes in, Faith was faltering. Should she just throw in the towel, cry out that she was in labor? Would that be better or worse for her? And just how was she planning on leaving after the pose was done...? She felt the baby move down by just another bit, and her jaw clenched. She was so close. She just had to keep going.

The urge to push hit her at its strongest then, panic surging in her heart. Holding back was like trying not to breathe now...very soon she was going to have to give in, just to release some of the pressure.

Another contraction, and the baby's head forced through her more. She could feel the burning of the mass nearing her exit. Her breathing was shaky and ragged, her composure cracking. Just hold on, just hold on...

With only a minute to go, Faith was about to give in. Her muscles squeezed unbearably, her bulging belly tight and heaving. Her toes curled and her back ached. One more contraction and she could take it no longer. She listened to her body and bore down ever so slightly. The head inched toward being born. She could feel her vulva beginning to bulge out from the mass behind it. This was it, she'd run out of time, and there was no stopping it now. She began to tremble. Everyone was going to see it, her pussy lips slowly parting, the head of her baby starting to...

"All right, and that's time!" The professor called. "Great work, everyone. Put your pencils down so we can go around and admire everyone's work."

The students stopped where they were, putting away their tools and organizing their papers.

The professor turned toward Faith. "And everyone say thank you to our model, who did an amazing job for us today!"

A spattering of tired-to-enthusiastic "thank yous" rang out.

Noticing that the model had not moved, the professor continued, "...And Faith, we're all done now, so feel free to pack up."

Faith did not respond.

Quizzically, the professor called out again. "Faith...?"

Then, one student chimed in, who was still looking at Faith with wide eyes and a furrowed brow. "Ummm...."

Another student stood up. "Oh shit, I think she's giving birth!"

Everyone in the classroom looked back at Faith. Sure enough, the top of a baby's head could be plainly seen crowning between her legs.

At this point, Faith threw her head back and bellowed out. "Ooooooh GOD I'M SORRY! THE BABY'S COMING!"

All at once, the room turned to chaos. Most stood frozen, unsure of what to do. The professor, completely in shock, scrambled to grab her phone and call 911. A couple students broke the no-phones rule and took pictures. Some even flipped to new pages in their sketchbooks and began to feverishly draw what was happening.

Faith, with all resolve and shame out the window, finally pushed with all her might. She grunted and moaned at the top of her lungs as she brought the baby to a full crown. Embracing her current position, she spread her legs as wide as they would go and arched her back, feeling unmistakable relief even through the pain. She couldn't think about the class anymore, or the money...all she could focus on was delivering her baby safely.

After holding out for so long, the baby was able to come quickly. After another few pushes while the class around her scrambled, the head popped out with a gush of fluid. Some students turned away, grossed out. Others watched intently, eager to get some once-in-a-lifetime studies in.

Finally, with the last of her remaining willpower, Faith bore down again, birthing the shoulders and allowing the rest of the baby to slide out onto the platform in front of her. The classroom fell silent, save for the sound of a crying, healthy newborn.

::::::::::

An ambulance quickly arrived, and Faith and her baby were brought in and taken care of. She had a lot of recovery to do, both physical and emotional.

At first, Faith was sure her...'performance' was going to get her in a world of trouble. Surely, she'd get no money, lose her job, and possibly get punished for some sort of indecent exposure.

On the contrary, Faith was surprised to receive double to money she was originally promised. The professor told her that apparently she had amazed everyone with her strength and that they all felt honored that she was willing to share such a special moment with them. Between that and all the news stories that were to follow, she'd forever be known as the first (and only) nude model to give birth during a session.

All in all, it was worth the commitment. And if she ever got pregnant again...well, if the money was right, she'd be willing to work right up until her due date.

::::::::::

END

[theprismyyy]

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

Tw: Nothing just teenagers being silly...and maybe a little nudity, but just a little☝️Also this hasn't been reviewed and probably won't be.

(English is not my first language)

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend------ This girl is definitely your number one fan, no matter what your art style or if you think a certain project of yours isn't very good, she will always think it's amazing and shower you with compliments because it's you and she loves you so much, and loves all your art <3 you could literally just draw some stick figures out of sheer boredom and she would treat it like it was the greatest work of art of the century.

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend------ She loves just sitting next to you while you draw, because she loves the artistic process, especially when the sketch starts with something "ugly and meaningless" and ends up being something incredible, you can see the shocked expression and the stars in her eyes as you watch the end result and she's all, "How did you do that?😲"

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend------ She would love to have little art dates, even if that's your thing and not hers, this girl just likes spending time with you <3 She would also try so hard to do something cool and impress you, but I really think she would have the artistic gifts of a two-week-old baby and she would be all "☹️" because you think her drawing is horrible and that you wouldn't like it, but when you see that she tried to draw you together in a little house, just like those children's drawings, you would be falling in love with her and showering this girl with kisses and affection, and she would be so embarrassed (in a good way); the next time she came to your house and saw her drawing on the wall along with her thousands of others, she would feel like melting like butter, if this girl had a tail you could see it wagging like a puppy's.

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend------ She would also be very messy during these meetings, always ending up completely dirty, whether from paint or colored markers, or whatever materials you were using; She would be the type who forgets that her hands are dirty and passes them over her face and then her face also becomes dirty, she only realizes it when you warn her between amused laughs.

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend------ One of her greatest fun is leafing through her sketchbooks, she could literally spend hours just sitting while going through each one of them, always commenting on her favorite drawings from each sketchbook and also about her evolution in art, in a Modern!au she there would probably be a million photos of your drawings on her phone

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend------ She would love to receive gifts made by you, drawings, collages, paintings, origami; It doesn't matter, she would keep them all in a hidden box under her bed just to make sure her father wouldn't find them and ruin them, but I think she would at least have one drawing stuck on her bedroom wall so she could look at it while she thinks. in you♡

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend------ If you needed a live model for a project she would 100% step up to that role, even though I think she would never be able to stand still long enough for that, but it's the intention that counts

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend------ It is common knowledge that her life in general is very troubled, so I feel that throughout her life this girl has always needed to be very cautious about everything, closing herself off from people as a way of protecting herself because everyone she has ever liked they left or hurt her in some way and there are still her shitty parents, you are the first constant in this poor baby's life, the first person she has really opened up to, and it shows in the little things, the little details about you that are there for her even when you're physically not there, that makes her feel loved, that reminds her that now she finally has someone; These little things are your drawings, your art, like all the gifts carefully stored in the box under her pants, or the little patterns of colorful flowers in acrylic paint on the headboard of her bed, or the marker doodles you helped her with. to do on the old all stars, the little discreet drawings scribbled on the theoretically imperceptible corners of her walls, all the silly and fun sketches you made in her notebooks and she loves <3333 it's the little things that make her melt and realize how much she loves you

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend------ She would also be your greatest muse, as if you had a special Sketchbook unique and exclusively dedicated to her, just with drawings of her, it's all about her ♡♡♡ sketches with little notes about how much you love her and how beautiful she is, or drawings of her features that you like, like a drawing of her nose with a note about how you like the little slope of it, or drawings of her eyes saying how pretty they are, etc, etc <3 She would 100% know about him because you never really hid it and she would probably get all emotional about it because no one has ever treated her with so much love or noticed the little things about her

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend ------ Thinking about a Modern!au where you beg her to let you do that tik tok trend with her where you paint a canvas on your boyfriend/girlfriend's back, and you don't even have to beg a lot because she agrees immediately. So imagine being in your bed with Natalie lying on her stomach, without a shirt or bra on and you have an amazing view of the pale skin of her back and the cute freckles there :(( she is so beautiful and sensitive and would get goosebumps at the slightest touch of the brush on your back, like she gets goosebumps all over because the paint feels so cold and she does her best to stay still and not disturb you, but she can't help but laugh every few seconds

© 2024 theprismyyy — please do not copy, translate or repost any of my work without my permission.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡SKZ React to Finding Out About Your Piercing In A…Certain Area♡

♡ I couldn't ask for a more unique assortment of requests to be sent my way. I love creating content for you guys. Thank you @lieslovefantasy for the request & I hope you find comfort in it ♡

♡ Pairings: ot8!skz x fem!afab!reader

♡ Genre: fluffy/suggestive

♡ Summary: You're nervous to tell the guy you're dating about your genital piercing, fearful of what he might say, but his actual reaction surprises you...

Warnings: This entire post focuses on genital piercings (nothing graphic or detailed) but if convos about vaginas make you uncomfortable then this isn't the post for you. There's also expression of sexual urges but this contains zero sexual contact ♡

I'm not a pierced gal but, if you're at all curious about it, you can find a guidebook here put together by a pro who's been doing it for ages. Stay safe babes

There's a spicier version here ♡

♡ Han's reaction can only be described as utter confusion. He hears what you're saying but it takes him a minute to process what you actually mean. None of this is because he finds it weird or unattractive that you got pierced. It's just that, up until this conversation, he didn't even know you could do that. He's genuinely fascinated though and, after a minute or so, he's staring at you with this wholesome curiosity in his eyes, like you're some work of art, eager to learn all there is to know about this new detail that makes the girl he's falling for even more interesting than she already is ♡

♡ Seungmin's convinced that you're joking. It's not unusual for you guys to say the most random thing that pops into your head just to see how the other will react so he decides to call your bluff, asking to see it since you really have it. You show him with no hesitation, holding your breath in anticipation of the usual smart ass comment leaving his lips and making you wish you hadn't told him, only it doesn't. Instead of saying something off the wall, he compliments your choice of jewelry and tells you how well it suits you. Yes, it's true that he typically takes great joy in being a pain in the ass about things but when it comes to you and your body he never wants you to question how loved it is by him ♡

♡ Felix senses right away that you're worried sick about how he'll feel. Interlocking his fingers with yours, he plants soft kisses along the back of your hand. He smiles at you, warm and gentle, assuring you that there's nothing you need to be nervous about. While he's absolutely clueless when it comes to piercings like this, it doesn't make him view you any differently than he already did. You're still the same charming, intelligent, funny girl that he has been and will always be obsessed with. Whenever you're comfortable showing it to him he'll be giddy about having the chance to see it. There's no doubt in his mind that he'll find it as beautiful as he does the rest of you ♡

♡ I.N has this friend who's best friends with a girl whose older brother's girlfriend got the same piercing as you which naturally means that, through information passed down to him, he's basically an expert on the topic. One thing though, he heard it doesn't really hurt. Something something about adrenaline. Is that true? How'd it feel? He apologizes, cuddling up to you, figuring you probably don't want to have flashbacks of that part. Either way, adrenaline high or not, he thinks you're so cool for getting it done. It's a decision that takes a lot of courage and knowledge of your identity to get done which he admires. You are, without a doubt, the most badass girl he's ever dated ♡

♡ Hyunjin has actually seen female genital piercings before. An artist friend of his did a photo series on it last summer meant to educate people on the 1001 different reasons that women choose to get them done. For some of them it had cultural or personal significance, for others, it was a spur of the moment decision they made simply because they wanted to do it. Which one is it for you? You don't have to tell him if you aren't ready but, if you choose to, you'll have his undivided attention and he'll cherish every word that leaves your lips the same way he always does. The fact that the two of you have gotten to the point that you feel safe enough to be this vulnerable has him getting low key sentimental ♡

♡ Lee Know isn't trying to be a perv or anything. He just doesn't understand how you could feel nervous about telling him something that's so insanely fucking hot. From what he's learned from 5 minutes of intently scrolling the internet, there's a chance that your piercing would make intimacy far more sensitive for you than it is for the average woman. That mischievous grin on his face says that he's more than willing to help you test it out if you haven't already. You roll your eyes when he throws out the idea that maybe he should get one too. He insists that his pain threshold is more than adequate to make getting it no big deal. After being reminded that it's not a competition, he calms down, his mind drifting back to how much fun it'll be to experiment with yours ♡

♡ Bang Chan admittedly has a hard time switching out of dad mode sometimes, often forgetting that he's with you and not his members. His instinct to make sure you're alright has him asking you how your healing went, how the experience was for you overall, and if there's anything he should or shouldn't do when you're being intimate that way he can make sure you only feel pleasure when the two of you are together. As touching as it is that he cares so much, you're a big girl and you feel safe enough with him to express your needs when they come up. You kiss him, promising him everything's fine but you'll let him know if anything changes, and he snaps out of it. He may be prone to worrying but it's only because you're so crazy important to him ♡

♡ Changbin's hugging you from behind when you tell him and this admission only makes him hug you tighter. He kisses your cute lil cheek and throws out a casual, "Oh...nice." It kind of breaks your brain that he's so unphased by finding this out. In the past when you've told people there's been some sort of reaction but you're pretty sure you'd get a stronger reaction out of him if you asked what he wanted for dinner. You question if that's all he has to say and he just shrugs, feeling that there's nothing else to say. He adores everything about the way that you express yourself externally. From the way you do your makeup and hair to the way you dress, he's always drooling over whatever you do. Anything you add to that wonderful base you have is just a bonus ♡

[virgilphobic]

I saw this cool piece of fanart by the wonderful @meybuyan in my feed,

go like it/support them !!! image used with credit from artist)

and i simply had to scratch the itch my brain got after looking at this wonderful piece of art.

https://www.tumblr.com/meybuyan/753899028212826112/patron-saint-of-the-lonely-and-desperate

edwin was there when charles passed on to the ghost realm. he was there when charles’ heart stopped, and he was too comfortable in edwin’s presence to even notice his own death.

during his last few hours, charles talks with edwin about the things that edwin can do that humans can’t. when edwin hits charles with the line “i’m dead, charles.” he finally realizes that he’s genuinely talking to a ghost. yet he isn’t scared.

edwin is shown using his ability to go through objects during a clip, and i would like to think that charles took note since he did seem to believe it was rather cool in the show.

imagine charles and edwin, a few months into having the dead boy detectives agency up and running. a tough case comes by, and the two boys are left exhausted. therefore, they aren’t in their solid forms.

the case makes edwin think of hell. the horrors he had to see and participate in flash through his mind as he sits and tries to read in a chair across from charles, who has his eyes closed. edwin soon forgets the book, setting it down on the coffee table in front of himself before he sighs heavily.

the sudden noise makes charles open one eye, and look edwin up and down. he then sighs before he gets up, and walks to be standing in front of edwin. the edwardian boy’s eyes flicker up to his best friend and before long he is standing.

whenever edwin is thinking of his past, there is this certain crinkle that forms in his forehead. charles spotted the little wrinkle in his friends skin and after a few moments he had both arms wrapped around edwin, hugging him.

this was one of/the first time that edwin had actually been “touched” by someone since hell.

and for once, he hadn’t flinched.

edwin soon wrapped his arms around charles, holding him like he was the universe and edwin was the one in charge of keeping the universe safe. throughout the agency’s main room, there soon was a glow. edwin opened his eyes that he hadn’t realized he closed, and what he saw shocked even him.

every part of him that was touching charles was glowing a soft blue. every part of charles that was touching edwin, was glowing a deep red.

edwin didn’t know what the whole thing meant, the colors, his feelings, or charles actions. but the one thing edwin knew, was that he had found his home.

and it was charles.

[thehotelpod]

ONE MORE WEEK OF DOUBLE STUFF OCTOBER LETS DO SEASON 5 OF IZZY'S EPISODE ART

5.1 Merp and Burble

Our first Big Named Event arc! "BEHIND THE CURTAIN" which I'm almost certain I picked because we could do this cool ass curtain frame device. Izzy continues to bring the pain here with photo bashed curtains, a modified Madam Hotel horrifyingly cartooning about like bugs bunny to reveal our almost Trevor Henderson-like trail cam timelapse photo of Merp. He also gave me a number of color options on this one, maybe we'll have a section in The Guestbook Vol. II of bts sketches? I'll ask Izzy. This one holds a special place in my heart because Merp is, as devotees will recall, just Scary Slar.

rest of the season under the cut! (it's long, you've been warned)

5.2 It Watches and It Smiles

look! The curtain connects at the top! It's gonna be one long picture!

This monster was actually based on a 3 foot tall hard foam statue we had in our house growing up. It is actually scarier looking than you are imagining, made every one of my cousins cry, and is not only something I had nightmares about but also one of the main reasons so much of my horror is "something weird is Over There but looking at you". Full disclosure, one of the reasons I put this monster in this episode was so that Izzy would have to draw a postcard of it and maybe someone would recognize it and tell me what the hell it is because I have not so much as a single photograph of it. BUT then Izzy showed me this drawing, which almost completely hides the monster but it's just so so good I couldn't pass it up. The implied shape and DYNAMITE bloody palm fronds make this look so much like a 90s book cover I fell in love right away. We always try to keep those season and episode numbers in the postcards now too, but I think we forget sometimes?

5.2 Nothing Can Kill That Which Glowers

LOOK AT THIS ONE. Madam Hotel rotting in the reflection of the bubble (she was supposed to show up more in those episodes and sort of be in the process of rotting but she ended up being a single light instead.), I'm crazy about the Owner here, Izzy loves to always keep a little monster in the mix when he draws the Staff. And miss Manager POPS like an 80s music video. Lot's of subtle layers and textures here that can get overlooked, but just like the lake the Owner sinks into, it deepens the longer you linger (did you find the episode number?)

I also like to remind everyone that 'That Which Glowers' is the Grimace and this episode title is a reference to the Clerks cartoon.

5.4 We Are...Watching You...

But are you really LOOKING at it? Do you SEE Izzy's MIND? Lined up you get back to back Managers mirroring each other as well as Madam Hotel in the wings of the now completed curtains--these doubles ALSO frame what is hopefully implied to be the Lobby Boy's hand reaching for his Manager. All of this duality and connection not only reinforces what we know about the characters and show already but set up beautifully the new mirrors about to arrive...

5.5 The Bellhop

THERE SHE IS! There's my goblin girl. You get the bloody vision of the Hotel as Hop sees it as well as the framing for a triptych of the New Crew, each on their own floor. The New Crew stands apart from the Staff in that they have canonical designs immediately, so there tends to be less variation on their fan designs. However there was like ONE WEEK or so before this episode dropped where people were drawing Hop ALL KINDS OF ways. She's one of my favorite designs Izzy's done for the show and I think it's partially because she looks a little like ET.

5.6 The Concierge

Shut up. Shut UP. Look at those colors. Look at that face. Look at those shoulders. Look at those colors! THE COLORS DUKE! THE COLORS!!!! and those printing spots breaking up the lines, all layered over starlight?! It should be, at this point, very hard for Izzy to outdo himself but...he just keeps on outdoing it. We jump down a floor here and the Concierge has slightly more brick surrounding him than the Bellhop did so my pattern recognizers in the crowd can probably guess what's coming next--

5.6 The Auditor

It's been pointed out that Aud has gotten the most detailed description of the main characters on the show. I try to always keep it vague so everyone can imagine whatever they like , but the Auditor is so weird I just wanted to play a little. I saw this scary looking, lonely monster begging to be seen in all white surrounded by nothing. Even the brick and mortar of the Hotel doesn't seem to want to be around her much. One thing I love about Izzy's work is how well he combines whimsy and fun with actual scary imagery. She looks really scary. That is a scary looking monster he drew.

I also think she kind of looks like this alien from Star Trek IV (hey look Star Trek showed up)

5.9 Tenaj Druh - 004 Moor

Oh how I wish I could have a full set of New Crew postcards from Izzy seeing season 1 from a different perspective (for that matter I'd love a full set of season 1 from Izzy, but one thing at a time). Getting to not only see Janet Hurd, but see the NEW CREW checking her in is so so exciting. And the Manager's TV's re-imagined as giant bloody eyeballs is expressed to it's grossest perfection here. Even the Goosebumps frame is tinted sickly green. (the rest of the season also has Goosebumps frames but I'm trying to show off Izzy's art I want you all to have a good look)

5.10 Tnurb Yrrah - 002 Moor

this one's bonkers. The Hubble's ultra deep field on the left, brains on the right but both halves of one face with the broken illusion between them that is just the building of the Hotel herself?? It's got poster folds and teeth for doors! This is a really stunning one that I feel like deserves a little more attention than it gets. Also maybe I spoke too soon on the Goosebumps frame, I don't...this one doesn't have one but maybe I just saved that file somewhere weird.

5.11 IT'S NEW YEARS EVE, JUDY BLASHY!

This is i think the first one we did that had a Goosebumps frame baked in. You can see the 5 and 11 on the clock give us our season and episode number, but that gets a little lost on the printed version so here it is in all it's glory. Love to get to see Judy here her FACE is so EXPRESSIVE and sharp. Notice how Izzy does NOT draw her with a gap tooth. Is that gap battle damage, or some aesthetic flourish the Hotel likes for her bodies? You'd have to ask Izzy. Also love getting to see him draw the things in her furnace room, which are like huge and imply a much larger elevator inside the box. Always reinforcing that boundaries and rules do not apply at the Hotel

they are also based on the family from Mac and Me

what the fuuuck?? why are they so scary??? why are they like that?? why did they make this movie this way?? I was a child!

5.12 The Reaper's Envy

Finishing up the season is this gorgeous party poster that would be right at home in the 90s. Other than the colors (THE COLOR!) I want to point out the confetti that breaks out of the border that also quietly includes some vermin (all up top, letting your eye drift down to the New Crew being reflected in what hopefully everyone assumed was Judy Blashy's eye. Of course we know now who's eye that is and what it's connected to (nothing its nothing it got cut out)

And that's season 5. Now we have entered the @filthyguts desert and must wait once again for the rains to return. I've got new ideas for season 6 that are gonna completely change how we do the art for the show and maybe we can even squeeze some button designs out of him when we launch the next wave of stuff we're launching.

I've said it before and I'll say it again and again and 100 more times, but Izzy's art is a hugely important part of the show, a source of inspiration not only to the fans who listen but to me myself (especially in my lower moments) and I am so so happy that his art and his style has come to define the show.

[heartfullofleeches]

Hella weird but I want Devlin to chase me, like if it’s just an intense game of tag or I’m genuinely trying to run away idc I want that man full on sprinting after me while I’m running away from him. Sounds like a fun adrenaline rush idk

The ride is unusually quiet. Your partner with his rambunctious and unruly self had hyped up the outing up until this point, eerily quiet as his eyes focus on the road. How well that attention spared was beyond you as you were fairly certain he didn't have a driver's license mainly due to the fact he's been alive nearly as long as vehicle transportation itself, but its better not to sweat the small things. He keeps a hand on your leg the entire drive, mindlessly tracing patterns along your thigh muscles. That mischievous grin of his returns as the car breaks to a stop.

"We're here~"

The happy jingle in his voice can't mean anything good, but you pop your seatbelt and follow him outside out of the trust he longed for and you felt you could give. Devlin grabs a bag from the back and your hand as he steps off road and into the treelining. He kisses the top of your hand as he closes your fingers around a flashlight.

"I'm so exciting, babes. No matter what, just remember you'll be safe- as long as you stay close to me and don't pass the blue trees when we get there."

That's definitely comforting. "What are we doing out here?"

That impossible smile only grows. "You'll see."

Devlin leads you into the wood. There's not much on your walk besides trees and rocks, until you come across the stained walls ejected around the forest floor. Vegetation and the hands of time had done their damage, but you could make out what looks to be spray paint art. The tiny monuments gradually incress in size till you're facing down small cobble huts throughout the area. Devlin stops in what appears to be the heart of the field and spreads his arms.

"Ta-da! Cool ain't it?"

You look around, airsoft goggles abandoned by a tree stump. "Is this... a paintball field?"

"Yup. Built right over the cemetery in the town I grew up in. Had some quality fun when was open. Probably the reason it closed too. Yellow eyed devil is what they called me. So fucking lame."

"I'm glad you showed me a part of your past, but is sight seeing all we came to do?"

"Nope."

Devlin snatches your light and tosses it into the trees. He pulls off his coat and lays it over a wall.

You back away as he streches. "I'm confused.."

"I'm gonna hunt ya down, silly. Just a little bonding experience and a way to relieve all the stress I got from watching you mingle with others. Most importantly, it'll be good to see how fast you can run if you flake on me and I have to drag your cute ass back where you belong.

He's dead serious about this. Some warning would've been nice, but the only way out is if you play alone. "What are the roles?"

"You try to make it back to the car without me catching you. It's pretty much a straight line besides the baracades so whether that's an advantage is on you. I'll give you a ten second head start. If you win, I'll do whatever you say for the night. If I win.... well- you'll see soon enough.

It probably would've been best to calculate your chances of winning, but it was clear he was getting antsy. "Alright. I'll play along. You better not be a sore loser like you were when we played operation."

Devlin looks ready to burst from excitement. "Scouts honor. We start in five."

You face the starting point, counting off in your head. You hear Devlin pacing behind you as you get in position. On the final number, your feet sink into the soft earth as you take off. Your countdown continues as you sprint down the path, seconds ticking by until the chase begins. Glancing over your shoulder, you see that Devlin isn't even looking in the direction you're heading. As the second countdown finishes, he takes a knee - running off to your right.

You make up for the wasted time by kicking your flight into second gear. Wasn't the best idea to put all your energy in at the start, but he was up to something and you knew it. Just keep looking ahead and pushing forward. The trees off the path were two dense for him to make it through and somehow catch you. There was probably a trap somewhere or-

Devlin cleans tree leaves out of his hair as he steps onto the path. The fall hurt his ankle, but with a few rolls of his foot it's good as new. You stop dead in your tracks, flinging yourself behind the nearest wall before he can spot you. That bastard was in the trees - waiting for you. You knew he was fast, but that seemed impossible. You peak around the wall to see if he's noticed you.

"Anybody ever tell you how hot you are covered in sweat and afraid?"

Devlin leans over the wall, winking at you as you look up. Grabbing the closest thing to you, you throw a small rock in his general direction as you race off in the direction you came. He catches it and hops over the wall.

"Oh you play dirty, huh? Here I thought I would have to go easy on you."

Your chest burns as you make distance from him as fast as humanly possible. He's gone off road again when you check, but this time you catch a glimpse of him through the thicket of trees right before he bursts out again in front of you. You pedal backwards and into one of the area towers, crawling beneath the glass free window to make it to the otherside. Devlin is already there and covers your mouth before you can scream. He pins you to the wall and celebrates his victory with a kiss to your sweaty skin.

"Looks like I won. I think it's time for the real fun to begin."

Devlin picks you up and sits you on the window sill. You catch your breath as his hands paw your thighs, tongue rolling over your salty skin.

"Another... round."

His ears perk up in tune with his lecherous smirk. "Oh?"

"I... wasn't- ready. If you win, I'll give you... an entire week of doing whatever you want."

Devlin backs off you, the flames of adrenaline rekindled in his eyes and burning brighter than before. "Oh, Y/n. You have no idea what you've just submitted yourself too."

[getitfrenchship]

Meet the Currently Unnamed S/I for P 3

eh fuck it might as well make it a post since he’s on my mind now. Right now my idea of a name is Malcolm but eh.

Self insert or OC? OC but he gives me incredible gender envy

Appearance:

With credit to this Picrew

My idea is that he wears a long trench coat but business casual for a shirt and pant combo, but the tie does work wonders. (Maybe in the winter he wears a black and white striped scarf instead?) Maybe combat boots if I really wanna go the fashion disaster uncle route. For his hair, I wanted to show long and messy with some of it in a ponytail.

Basic Info:

Birthday: October 29th

Likes: rainy days that aren’t too windy or thunderstorm-y, mystery novels, paintings via art history

Dislikes: putting in unnecessary effort

Arcana: Hermit (alternative for Maya)

Pers onas: First summoned is either Hades or Charon. If I pick Hades, I feel his skills would be too similar to Kor//omaru’s. Charon would be neat for dark and ice magic (to represent water). Ultimate is Odysseys. There I could see an inverse where he becomes a light or wind user.

Character relationship dynamics:

Potential romantic: Theodore

Protector of: S E E S

Reluctant mentor up to a certain point: Ikut//suki

Background, Personality & Relevance in Story That Aren’t Necessarily Changes in the Narrative but Y’Know:

Background: He’s a French novelist that first traveled to Japan 10 years prior to the story & was an unknowing witness to Death’s escape/birth of the Dark Hour. He returns to Japan since he remembered enjoying a trip there before and thought he could clear his mind from current events in his life.

Personality: Before the story, some say he’s cool and standoff-ish. It’s only through his Social Link that you find out he’s more standoff-ish than usual. Not in an annoyed way, but in a clearly depressed way. Y’see, his mother that he had an estranged relationship passed away and he has no idea if he should grieve or be relieved she’s gone. His childhood was good until his family went into debt, and his mother became distant as a result. Out of that, he’s got a very dry sense of humor that makes him surprisingly hilarious. Fortunately he’s learned not to make depressing jokes, but they sometimes slip by

Relevance in Story That Aren’t Necessarily Changes in the Narrative but Y’Know: In the Internet cafe where you can buy Internet tips, you can also run into him and start the Hermit SL there. Think he’s free Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays in the evenings. During outings with Theo, he can actually see the other and become amused by the naivety Theo has.

And story spoilers time!

He’s also a reluctant second in command for Ikut//suki prior to the plot twist reveal due to his potential & age. The school hires him as a janitor to keep an eye on S E E S at first, but I think he’d make it up to school staff/TA (despite being 32…). After Ikut//suki’s betrayal, he steps up to be the S E E S dorm counselor. I think he starts to get out of his depressive state after Shin//ji’s death because of the anger he felt in having a child die under his watch. But his Ultimate awakening is stepping up after Ikut//suki’s betrayal.

He also helps publish the Pink Alligator since he wanted to help a fellow author :,)

[green-alien-turdz]

Wanted to ask some questions (feel free to answer the ones you want) about you/SP characters

-best part abt South Park

-worst part

-favorite kid character

-character you think has missed potential

-favorite adult character

-least favorite adult character

-one that’s relatable

-moment that was really unfunny

-moment that was really funny

-kinda overdone in every blog but what pronouns you go by

-how’d you get into South Park

-are you in any other fandoms/do you make any original art n stuff

Feel free to only answer the ones you want to, no pressure here

Ight, here we go

Best Part: It's just a fuckin funny ass show. Shit makes me happy as hell. Even when they have some pretty dogshit takes, the rest of the show usually makes up for it.

Worst Part: Kinda like the last one, there have been some episodes that aren't all too great. I understand that they have a SUPER tight deadline, so there's SO much room to get issues wrong n stuff, so I don't give too much of a shit. I also don't expect everyone to have the same views as me, and it's usually not terrible. Sometimes you'll get right wing conservatives thinking that SP exaggerations of things is 'proof' of some stupid shit. I could do without that, but it's like once in a blue fuckin moon.

Fav (kid) Character: I think it's obvious it's Kyle.

Character w/ missed potential: They've honestly done a pretty good job of showcasing a lot of the character, giving a lot of secondary and tertiary characters their own episodes. BUT, I do think seeing more of David or Tammy woulda been cool.

Fav (adult) Character: Nostolgia wise, it's Chef, cuz I miss that mf (fuck scientology tho). Comedy wise, ealier Randy was pretty good (tho I'm not a big fan of how he has been since Tegridy, that's not to say he doesn't have his moments, but he's not the same). Also, I used to fucking LOVE Ms. Crabtree when I was a kid, I though she was funny as shit.

Least fav. adult: Officer Barbrady. I can deal with him bein dumb as fuck, but his voice and speaking pattern is like a fork scratchin across a plate. I hate him SOLEY because of his fucking voice. Also, SkankHunt42 Gerald is annoying as FUUUUUCK.

Unfunny moment: The Butter's and passed out Paris Hilton scene. In general, is just kinda stupid and uncomfortable. Also the whole Ike and his teacher thing. The Cartman as Dog was a funny thing, but the rest was uncomfortable (to be fair, I'm almost certain that was the point. They used Ike to REALLY send home just how fucked up it was).

Funny moment: Almost all of the show, dude. I love it so much.

Pronouns: Dick/Balls jk He/him, but I couldn't give a shit. I'm a dude, but a short one, so maybe I don't really count

How: I grew up on South Park. You could catch my toddler ass watchin this wit my siblings all the time.

Misc: I am into other shows and movies, but not into fandom stuff. I'm barely in this one, seeing as I only post art n that's about it. And I do make original art. I got a shit ton of stories and oc's. But my 'normal' art style uses soft shading, unlike the hard shading I use on fanart stuff.

[ornii]

La mia musa (My Muse)

Nancy Wheeler X Male Reader

Summary: You had a painting project and Needed a muse for it, Gladly, Nancy took your fumbling offer in exchange for help in her history class

"So why do I have to sit like this all day?"

Nancy Wheeler, the Wheeler Families daughter and occasional friend of few. She sits so elegantly in a chair inside a classroom of Hawkins High, an art room adorned with Odd drawings, used cavas and the smell of paint. She had one leg crossed and was looking forward, her eyes slightly dart to the left to a cavas being painted on. The quiet but abrasive sounds of paint being produced upon the canvas can be heard gently under music being played via a radio.

"Nancy, I've told you before that this stuff takes time." A man peers past the canvas to her, a student of Hawkins high just like her, he has this very flow y and fluent look to him. He frowns a bit at her.

"We can reschedule it if you're not up for it today..." he says, Nancy considers it for a second.

"No, I want to finish it so you can show me, since you've never let me see it." She replies a bit coldly and he agrees.

"Okay, keep your chin a bit high." He replies and she leans her head upward slightly, he looks at her and their eyes meet. He could only just stare at her; watching as Nancy's beauty just beams though the room like the sun rising through the horizon. He looks back down as Nancy smirks just slightly. She had a slight feeling of his intentions when he awkwardly asked her to be his "Muse." Which was mostly just him stumbling on her words, and him convincing her by helping her with History class. To just stand in one spot, just too easy for her to pass up.

"So, what is a Muse anyway?" Nancy asks and (Y/n) continues to paint while explaining.

"Well originally they were Greek Goddesses of Art forms, The Nine Daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne, but the term means something that inspires you to paint, to create.. and for me.." he says, (Y/n) makes a power move and peers over, staring at Nancy.

"It's something so perfect you can't take your eyes off of." He says, his words caught Nancy off guard, All her life she somewhat kept her cool but at this moment she was actually caught off guard, speechless. There was an awkward silence between them as the mutual attraction began to fester. Nancy, embarrassed just looks back at her Muse spot. (Y/n), even more embarrassed just keeps painting, now keeping his eyes off of her. He pursues his art for another hour and a half of awkwardly cute silence, the two eye each other for a moment and then go back to their jobs.

"Alright, done." He says, breaking the silence, Nancy stands up and stretches her legs a bit, standing on her tippy toes.

"Great, that took forever." She says and walks over next to him, she then finally gets to stand before the painting.

"I'm glad I'll be able to get to see this.."

Nancy halts her sentence looking at the painting, such colors, the way her hair was drawn with such cautious love and attention. Each stroke of the brush was meticulously made with care and complexity. Nancy was at a loss of words as he stood next to her, He smiles a bit, actually proud of himself.

"It's my best work, I want to call it...

"The Mystery Girl.."

Nancy just couldn't believe the attention to detail, the artistic flow of her hair, the almost heavenly like aura around Her, the perfect brush strokes that represented her eyes were an almost perfect color of hers, she just blinked a few times and turned to him.

"This is, Amazing. I knew you were in art class a lot but this is.. whew." She says slightly combing her hair to the side. It has a certain beauty to it all, and that Beauty was Nancy. She turns to him, so amused by what she's witnessing.

"You really are talented, Steve isn't into stuff like this, I don't know why." She says a bit sad, and (Y/n) felt the compliment in his heart, and wanted to feel like this more. He always thought Nancy was this mystery girl, so intriguing, so beautiful and consummate. Once he saw her in Mrs.Duffers history class, like a modern day Audrey Hepburn or a Lady Elsie. Such beauty should be encapsulated in a way to always be existing.

"Thanks. Uh, sorry for making you stay after school those times, I just wanted it to be, perfect." He says.

"No, you don't have to apologize it's, I can see it was really worth it, what do you plan on doing with it?" She asks, "The Painting." She says and he looks at it.

"Once it dries.. that's up to you." He says, Nancy looks at him confused, and realizes what he means.

"I-I can't take this, it took you days to make this." She says and looks back at it.

"Yeah, but it would be easier to explain to your Boyfriend and Parents that you got this made by a professional, than people asking why I have it." He replies. And Nancy looks at him, she was indecisive but then held her ground on it and grabbed him by the hand, it shocked him a bit and he turns to her.

"You're taking this with you, you made it, put it in an exhibit for aspiring painters or something. You deserve it, your Mystery Girl says so." She says with a hint of authority, it was more than enough for (Y/n) to nod sheepishly. She smiles and lets go of his hand. They were interrupted by a horn from outside. Nancy peeks out the window to see a car.

"That's Steve, gotta go." She says, Nancy turns and walks over, offering a handshake, he takes it and she smiles.

"It was nice being your muse." She says, and walks to grab her backpack and he nods, still staring.

"Yeah, it was nice." (Y/n) says and she gives him one last smile before leaving, (Y/n) stands there by himself before turning to the Painting.

"I guess I'll be seeing you.. Mystery Girl."

[freewilllife]

First Greeting - Meeting between Xie Lian and Mu Qing

Commentary:

This is the first time Xie Lian and Mu Qing interact after 800 years

Mu Qing knows it is Xie Lian and Xie Lian has no clue who the other person is.

Therefore this first impression is pretty important...as it shows how Xie Lian perceived the other person before every feeling for that person could cloud his perception.

What is interesting is that the voice is described as "softly"...which literally the way Xie Lian described Mu Qing´s way of speaking later as a servant.

It is further described as a very comfortable voice...Xie Lian explained further that it sounded soft, gently and decorous. So most likely the way Xie Lian would expect a god to speak here.

However Xie Lian listens more closely and thinks: this is actually cool and indifferent...

Now Xie Lian considered it "malicious in intent"

Remember...Xie Lian did not know this person and he may have been oversensitive, since he knows that many won´t have that great of an opinion of him..but still we can conclude: He is right.

Mu Qing was hiding here some aggression

Mu Qing attacked:

So Mu Qing did not let his chance pass and addressed Xie Lian directly...making it impossible for Xie Lian to "lie low".

However Xie Lian was further happy, that there is somebody who is willing to talk with him!

Mu Qing wished a confrontation

Commentary

This was truly an attack as the other person must know, how much damage his ascension has caused.

Furthermore Xie Lian felt like the other person actually showed 0 respect for him...it is further emphasized due to the other heavenly officials also admitting that they would have felt uncomfortable if they had been addressed like this.

Xie Lian tried to flee, but Mu Qing didn´t let him get away.

What I consider interesting...You can read Mu Qing´s sentence in two ways:

Mu Qing indicated more or less that Xie Lian had more luck than him...simply because it is Xie Lian

or you can read it as: Since it is Your Highness, a prince, he had more luck in life than a commoner, than him.

And I am pretty positive..it is that hidden jab.

and that relates to the things he said Xie Lian at the end, when they have their little chat. Since he told him there, he always believed that he had just more luck than him and was not that much better than him in martial arts...

Ling Wen seemed to have felt sorry for Xie Lian and informed him, why the person was angry.

I guess Xie Lian was relieved, since he thought that he knew why this person was so malicious to him...He apologized.

The other person however didn´t seem to accept his apology

Mu Qing must have enjoyed it, that he could now refuse this apology as Xie Lian once did. He surely did remember that he had been driven out by his former master.

And now, when this person most likely experienced a certain high, did Xie Lian strike...without knowing...

Imagine...you thought you have finally given your former employer a little taste of humiliation (we later learn, that he thought that Xie Lian had intentionally tried to harm him)...and the other party didn´t even recognize you! What a disgrace! What a shame! Ouch..and that hurt...to be totally forgotten...

In the dongua...we can see Mu Qing´s shadow flinch greatly...and I guess this must have been the shock of an earth-quake for him.

Imagine further...Xie Lian let everybody know in the communication array...that he hadn´t recognized Mu Qing. Ouch.

There was however interest on Xie Lian´s part:

But it also interesting to note, that this does say something about Xie Lian. He - at least - made perfectly clear, that he knew that his former retainer became a god...and based on the information we have here, he also kept himself informed how well he fared.

This further actually emphasizes this point...as I don´t think, Xie Lian has ever met Mu Qing as a god...but 5-6 centuries ago...would not be before his ascension, as Mu Qing was a mortal and would have been dead by then...that means...Xie Lian noted that he visited the temples of both of his former retainers, even when he did not admit it.

Xie Lian further told Ling Wen and the reader, that Mu Qing did not talk like that with him previously.

Further proof that Mu Qing was quite shocked himself, as he did not know how to react anymore.

Well...then we get some wrong and right information about the relationship between these two characters that will be later corrected during the series.

After that Xie Lian wanted to further pretend...nothing happened...

Since Feng Xin arrived, that strangely did solve the issue...As suddenly Mu Qing knew how to speak again...to make things more akward for Xie Lian.

Feng Xin did not need an introduction...just by "Heh" he was able to recognize...this was Mu Qing.

Sadly for Mu Qing...Xie Lian recognized him - instantly...so it is not hard...Feng Xin did not exactly change the way he swore...

It is made clear that Feng Xin and Xie Lian used to be nearer than Xie Lian was with Mu Qing...which is true and untrue at the same time.

For Xie Lian they are both akward...But we do know beforehand...that this is true, yet untrue, as Mu Qing is more disliked than Feng Xin.

Neither of his former two retainers wish to actually conclude or part ways...It is Xie Lian - like in the past - who cut the communication off...

Mu Qing gave him a final jab...Of course he did not think that was a coincidence...

So...from Mu Qing´s perspective...Xie Lian had taken revenge on him...

Xie Lian pretended that this did not affect him - which is of course a blatant lie...It was ashameful and akward meeting the two.

And Xie Lian is happy to flee the situation...However...there is a next round the next day...

When Ling Wen tried to find help for Xie Lian...

Mu Qing was interested in Xie Lian - a clear sign

The people - Xie Lian and Ling Wen - finally recognized that Mu Qing was a little bit too often in the communication array. Ling Wen also mentioned that it seemed to be not a common occurence, but only happened "these days".

So it is pretty sure to say: Mu Qing didn´t hide his interest in Xie Lian pretty well.

And unfortunately...Mu Qing had prevented Xie Lien from getting help

We can also clearly see that Xie Lian was annoyed at Mu Qing´s behaviour...as his thought was surely not friendly.

[dnpanimationstudioclone]

Chris Bradford Backstory-Top Dog

It’s a bummer we never got Chris’ backstory. We saw Xever’s and a lot of the other Foot’s but sadly nothing on him. I always wondered who he used to be before becoming the famous Martial Arts star to loyal ninja warrior mutant for the Foot and Shredder. What if he wasn’t always the Top Dog?

What if the episode about Chris wanting his humanity back was expanded, along with Xever and when presented with a chance to become human again like getting a certain ingredient or formula where only one can use it to turn back to human, they fight over who should get the chance.

Xever-It’s all your fault we’re freaks to begin with! You’re the reason I’m stuck in all this! Chris-I’m sorry, was I the one who made you steal from Master Shredder and got you thrown into prison to be bailed out into working for the Foot!? Cause I’m pretty sure you stuck yourself in that corner! Not me!

Xever-My life was already hard as it was but you practically go out of your way to make it worse and enjoy doing so! For crying out loud I lost my own legs!

Chris-Hey you got new ones! And they can crush stuff way better and you love crushing things! Usually other people’s legs! Xever-Ugh, I don’t even know why I’m trying to get you to understand my situation, you’d never understand what having it hard is like at all!

Chris-Excuse me?

Xever-Oh don’t act dumb, you don’t need to for that! People like you have had everything handed to them their whole lives! You didn’t have to work to get where you are, from being some pretty rich boy to some rich martial arts movie star and now to Shredder’s lap dog! You’ve made it very clear that all you’ll ever see me as is just some lowly bottom-feeder so can’t you at least let me be human-

Chris-SHUT UP! YOU DONT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME!

Xever stunned by his reaction.

Chris-You seriously think that I just didn’t have to earn my place into the Foot, to once have earned HIS respect!? You think just a bunch of money and fame got me into here!? In fact it’s the other way around. It’s because of the Foot, I ever became somebody that mattered…flashback

Way back, I grew up as a foster kid, going from new home to home but always end up being returned back. I felt like some weak little runt in the pound, a total underdog. The kind where all the bigger kids would pick on, the kind where teachers thought I was too stupid to be taught anything and as I got older it got worse. Pretty soon, nobody wanted me. The only thing that brought me some comfort where all those cool Martial Art films and shows. The heroes looked so cool fighting all those bad guys and getting through any kind of obstacle and everyone else thought so too. I wanted to be just like that! To be the seen the way everyone else saw them, to be respected, to be adored…to be loved. And I thought it would only ever be just some silly dream until…I met him. Xever-Shredder?

Chris- At that time, he was looking for new potential recruits and I got lucky enough for him to check for fosters like me who were starting to get too old for most to consider fostering. He was the first person who ever looked at me and not just pass by me like everyone else would, like he saw something in me that no one, including me could see at the time, I felt…hopeful. So when he asked if I was open to become one of his new students, I took the offer and never looked back. I did everything I could to show Shredder he wouldn’t regret giving me a shot! I endured everything he put me through, sometimes I wonder how I even survived but I did! And I used what he taught me to finally show the rest of the world what Chris Bradford could do and become the same kind of hero I watched on tv, some other little kid like me could look up to! I was finally the top dog!

Xever-Wow. Guess you really did earn your place at the top.

Chris-I did, but now? I’m a giant hideous mutant dog man, I’m constantly beaten by teenage turtle mutants and worst of all Shredder’s pretty much lost all care for me and it’s only a matter of time Karai kicks me to the curb to be just a nobody again! And to top it all off, I’m forced to work with some guy, 10 years younger than me who got where I had to go through so much more to be, by attempting to steal from my Master! Being Chris Bradford’s all I really have left at this point and I know that windows closing soon enough, in show business! YOU know how to survive on your own without needing conditional love. I don’t!…I can’t💔

Xever-…

What do u think? I’d love to know💖

[mystycalypso]

grabbing you and shaking you bc u ars like one of three ppl who post abt the silly hello neighbor show. you are doing me specifically a great service in these trying times (being in a fandom with 0 content)

How it feels being one of the big 3 wtrb creators /j

But seriously tho, thank you so much.

I've mentioned it in passing to Kaydin a lot, but Hello Neighbor was the first fandom I was a part of (even before fnaf which has arguably had a bigger impact on my life as a whole). I remember way back in 2016 when I was just a wee lad with very little internet access and the just- joy the alphas brought me. I remember waiting patiently for ANYONE to make videos on the game, for MatPat's theories on it, and so on. Hell, I remember getting so upset about the final game that I swore off Hello Neighbor forever (you can guess how well that went, heck even at the time I couldn't keep away completely from Hello Neighbor 2)

But when I was in those early fandom spaces, like a lot of young artists probably do, I wanted to be up there, wanted to be one of the artists you recognize with their content about a certain series, yknow? And it's cool that while the Hello Neighbor Fandom today is quiet, it's still active enough to share my and Kaydin's art and theories and way WAY over-analyzing.

Maybe this show will be the push this franchise needs to get it back on the water, floating with the other indie series. I mean it certainly dragged me back in.

All this to say that it's so cool getting to be one of the artists making stuff to satisfy the hyperfixation of the rest of the fandom lol. And getting this ask has legit made my week <3

(It's for my own sanity too dw, if I bottled up all this hyperfixation I'd explode, even after dragging Kaydin into it. And that's not to mention my Senior Promise (tm) I've made lmao)

[indygotcha]

They had a full episode given as a preview for Tiny Toons Looniversity on CN's official channel... and it's US-ONLY

One proxy-watch later though... wow. Like, I'm actually kind of impressed, sold in even. The writers are really digging in deep with all of the possibilities and jokes the premise of Tiny Toons' setting had since it's inception!!

Enjoyed the hell out of how they rewrote characters like Plucky to be actually be pretty funny (YMMV), and the episodes look to be really well-written too!

I really, REALLY like the way Plucky got rewritten in this show: they made him so full of himself, reaching these hilarious levels of ignorancy to everything, or everyone around him. And even then, he's kind of chill with everyone - most of the time.

I don't think I was that much into him in the original show, with how he was essentially Chuck Jones' Daffy, but younger, not really bringing much originality out of him. On that end, the original show often tended to reduce him into the butt of Acme Acres - sometimes even by the Bunnies' expense (Anvil Chorus), or in spite of helping them out like how he's jailed along with Daffy in Who Bopped Bugs Bunny" .

Now yeah, that was because Chuck Jones' Daffy was the designated fall guy of LT back in the 80s to 90s, and this was naturally passed down on to his Tinier counterpart - but it always made me feel like the show couldn't escape falling on being the "Muppet Babies" of Looney Tunes, with good sum of the characters being pretty carbon copies of the original Looney Toons.

This only made certain toons who defied their direct counteparts stand out all the more, like how Calamity Coyote was just this nerdy but amicable kid prodigy when he wasn't paired with Lil' Beeper... or Elmyra, undoubtedly the "Shirley Temple" of the WB Animation Studios back in the 90s.

Seeing the Tiny Toons engage on gags and showing them off to each other with banter-y feedback on top is such a novel, fun concept on a premise all about school geared for training upcoming toon stars. I always felt this was a very underutilized aspect from the original show, with only few of them playing with this in favour for more education or regular school-centric antics (which aren't like, bad - but I was specifically drawn on this show due the possibilities presented by it's cast and the first episode implying the teachings of Toon Arts.

Alongside the whole "Toon DNA" explaining the comedic immunity of Toons at large, and then utilized well on the conflict of this episode, is making me really excited about how just much the writers will go on digging on the concept of Toon Physics or Toons. that really drew on these types of works at the first place (such as Who Framed Roger Rabbit)

While at it, huge props also on Hampton getting to have a really cool starring episode, which even had a pretty fun B-plot tying it all up together. Watching Wiley being a scientist still pursuing Road Runner amidst of showing how Toon DNA works was just so delightful - and so was With Hazel being used well with her iconic laugh as nice flourish for the whole episode's resolution. (Also Granny's gonna be a real MVP in this whole show, huh...)

The animation might need to be given some bits of polish and tonal balance - as of right now, the well-animated bits are there aplenty in the show, but it seems to easily shift on the other side of a spectrum where characters are "under-animated" to bridge them. Feels like cutscene quality jumps in Kingdom Hearts, but with the overanimated bits we see in Spongebob (not as egreciously bad, though).

I'll bear with it for now because writing's really damn good for a show like this.