#maybe its the fact that i want to keep up with my dashboard and all the posts thats making me feel so drained all the time

[kaguya-muneuji]

... tired. burnout.

[moonchildreads]

small town

Chapter 25 - Part-Time Lover

IN THIS CHAPTER: New routines, chilling at Lover's Lake, and Eddie and Dottie take a Big Step [17.4k]

WARNINGS: self-esteem issues (body shapes and stretch marks, both positive and negative), eddie being a simp for his girl (also maybe the author aka me being a lil gay over women's bodies), suggestive themes, jokes about male masturbation, discussions about past not so great sexual experiences (not explicit, focused on feelings and consent), allusions to sex (fluffy and poetic), NO EXPLICIT SMUT

A/N: dottie's experiences with her ex boyfriend in this chapter are heavily based on my own, please be kind. i'm not trying to infantilise her, i'm just being honest about what being unexperienced was like for some of us when we were teenagers. hope you enjoy it even if you can't relate (and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!)

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

We are undercover passion on the run Chasing love up against the sun

Friday, June 20th - 1986

“There! I see them, park here!”

“I have eyes, man, stop hitting me while I’m driving!”

The week following their graduation, the Hellfire Class of ‘86 had been presented with a daunting task: syncing their schedules to make time for each other while officially entering the workforce. After leaving high school, each of them knew that new routines had to be established, and so they quickly discovered that familiarity was key in navigating the strange grown-up world they had been thrown into so nonchalantly. When Eddie’s van parked outside of Giulia’s that first Monday and Jeff and Gareth spilled out from the inside with snacks and vending machine sandwiches like they were spoils of war, Dottie and Donny immediately clocked out and wordlessly agreed to this new tradition that was, in fact, a continuation of everything they held dear while in school - love and companionship in the form of sharing a meal.

A plan guided by convenience had been quickly laid out: Eddie finished his apprenticeship shift at 1 pm, and upon leaving he’d pick Jeff up at the last house in his route as a very in-demand dog walker over in the upper-middle class side of Hawkins. Together, they’d head to Big Buy where they’d wait in the parking lot for Gareth to clock out at 2, and finally, they’d meet up with Donny and Dottie at a small park nearby Giulia’s, always sitting under the very same tree Gareth had frantically been pointing at through the van’s dashboard.

“Alright, nerds, what’s on the menu?” Donny said on that particularly hot Friday as he saw their friends climb out of the van, ready to get out of the heat trapped inside its metallic body.

“We snagged two pizzas today! Donny’s been learning to throw the dough and we got to keep the ones that didn’t fall to the floor,” Dottie said, proudly presenting the boxes resting on their picnic blanket to the boys.

“I’ve got Mountain Dew, Dr. Pepper, and a huge bag of chips,” said Gareth, letting the plastic bag fall from his hand onto the middle of their circle.

“What kind?” asked Jeff, gathering the plastic cups and napkins he’d shoved in his backpack that morning before leaving home.

“Sour cream and onion.”

“Nice.”

“I’ve got grapes, pretzels, and two egg sandwiches from the vending machine,” said Eddie, opening his lunchbox and throwing the bag of green grapes towards Dottie who cooed happily.

“I’ve got apple slices, M&Ms, two PB&Js, and Mrs. Kendall gave me a bunch of jerky as a snack, not really sure why,” Jeff finished the roll call, getting a handful of gas station jerky out of his backpack’s front pocket.

“Do you think I’ll die if I put jerky on top of my pizza?” asked Gareth at large.

“Dunno, but go for it,” Donny encouraged him, filling cups with soda and distributing them around.

Dottie loved having lunch with her friends at the park. On Tuesday, it had rained all morning so they’d instead sought out refuge at one of the booths within Giulia’s, Donny’s family more than happy to play host to the teens while they prepped for the dinner shift. They’d had a pleasant lunch that day, but there was nothing that could compare to the sense of freedom she felt while sitting on their blanket, pooling all their lunches and snacks together and complaining about their new jobs.

After only a few days, it became clear to everyone that Donny was the privileged one within their friend group - his post was inside the kitchen learning all about his Dad’s craft, and he was taking to it with gusto and innate skills he had never known he’d had but seemed to have begun developing in his Home Ec classes. Gareth, on the other end of the scale, was seriously considering asking to be switched to the graveyard shift if he had to play nice to yet another presumptuous customer demanding to see a manager because he wasn’t allowed to accept their expired coupons.

Eddie felt like he was somewhere between the two. He loved getting his hands greasy and figuring out what was wrong with a car, the satisfaction of fixing something and seeing Thatcher’s proud smile was easily the best part of the job. However, he did not enjoy the fact that all the rich idiots in town came in with their expensive cars asking for repairs to be done quicker than it was humanly possible.

Carson Humphrey, Andy Humphrey’s father, had come into the shop on Wednesday for a simple oil change. Thatcher was more than happy to let Eddie take over, confident in his apprentice’s budding skills, but it soon became clear that wasn’t happening - Carson loudly proclaimed he didn’t want “that good for nothing Munson boy” touching his car and breaking something that would certainly cost more than Eddie’s salary to replace. Thatcher had sent a red faced Eddie to the break room, told him to get himself a soda from the vending machine, and did the oil change as fast as he could to get Humphrey Sr. out of his shop and onto his merry way.

“Don’t let that asshole get to you,” Thatcher had said when he found Eddie smoking behind the shop after Carson left. “Thinks he’s all high and mighty ‘cause he has money, well… that ain’t stopping his wife from askin’ for Dougie’s number when she was here last month.”

“No fuckin’ way,” Eddie scoffed, cigarette in his mouth while leaning over to see Doug’s shiny bald head through the window.

“You ain’t heard it from me, boy,” the older man laughed. “But women love a man willing to get his hands dirty. Ask that girl of yours, she’ll tell you.”

Eddie had simply nodded and kept his hair down to hide his ears that were surely becoming more red by the second, quickly dismissing any salacious thoughts as his wristwatch beeped loudly to announce the end of his shift. He distracted himself with yet another smoke and loud headbanging music as he drove down the street - he did not need to hear shit from either Jeff or Gareth as he picked them up, his jeans feeling uncomfortably tight under the Indiana sun.

“You guys will never guess who I saw today,” Gareth said back in the present, a slice of pizza in one hand and a handful of chips in the other.

“Wheeler?” Eddie ventured a guess.

“...You’re an asshole, you knew that?”

“I never said which Wheeler! It could have been Nancy,” he defended himself.

“Why would anyone care if I saw Nancy Wheeler?”

“Can’t believe we’ve got more updates on Henderson than we do on Mike,” Jeff commented, ignoring their bickering.

“I know, right? Did you talk to him?” Dottie asked, splitting an egg sandwich in two and giving the other half to her waiting boyfriend.

“Well, not exactly…,” Gareth grimaced.

The day after graduation, the Hellfire Club got together at the Henderson house to send Dustin on his merry way to Camp Know Where, even if it was at the expense of putting their D&D sessions on hold until he made his triumphant return a couple of weeks later. Still, his friends took it upon themselves to help him pack with no complaints, all while excitedly chattering about the kinds of activities he’d be participating in once he arrived at camp. They also, of course, teased him endlessly about the fact that he was about to be reunited with his “hotter-than-Phoebe-Cates-but-still-a-genius” girlfriend, pestering him to bring back pictures as proof of her existence.

In the midst of good-natured ribbing, the older boys helped him shove his heavy bags into Claudia Henderson’s trunk; the kind woman watched them with a gentle smile on her face, grateful for the little community his son had found himself a part of upon entering high school. While they were hugging Dustin goodbye and wishing him a fun time at camp, Dottie couldn’t help but notice that after interacting with both Mike and Erica, the previously relaxed boy grew strangely serious before pressing slips of paper into their hands.

“Radio in if you need me, okay?” he said, looking at Mike with intense eyes. “I’ll check in at this frequency every morning.”

“Dustin-” Mike began to protest, but he was cut short before he could say more.

“I’m serious,” Dustin turned to Erica. “You can use Cerebro, my Mom will let you in. I can be back in a day tops.”

“You worry too much,” Erica dismissed him, but there was something in her expression that said she was taking his words to heart. “Go to your nerd camp with your nerd girlfriend and we’ll see you in a few weeks. We’ll be fine.”

“Okay, okay, just… y’know.”

“I know. We’ll keep you updated, dumbass.”

“Thanks,” he smiled at her genuinely before moving on like nothing had happened.

If the rest of the boys noticed the weird exchange, no one said anything, and thus Dustin left Hawkins in high spirits, grinning at the sight of his friends waving at him from his front lawn as his Mom’s car got smaller and smaller as it headed down the road.

It was a shame, however, that with Dustin away for a few weeks, Mike chose to essentially become a recluse in his own home instead of hanging out with everyone else. Unlike Erica who was spending all her free time roaming around town with her gang of middle school girl friends trailing behind her, the middle Wheeler sibling hadn’t poked his head out of his basement all week after seeing Dustin off. If, in fact, what Gareth was saying was true, this was the first Mike sighting they’d had since Saturday, and they knew from Dustin’s midweek phone call to Eddie that he hadn’t heard from him either.

Gareth had been counting the coins in his register for the third time that morning when he saw Karen Wheeler, baby Holly, and Mike approach, cart full of groceries. He’d exchanged pleasantries with his friend’s mother as he scanned their items but the younger boy seemed overall uninterested in joining the conversation, quickly pushing the cart (along with his baby sister) away towards their car while leaving behind his mom to pay.

Seeing the older boy weirded out by her son’s behavior, Karen took it upon herself to apologize on his behalf. Apparently Mike had been in a foul mood all week because his friends in California couldn’t make the big trip to Indiana like they had anticipated, and that meant that he wouldn’t see his best friend Will or his girlfriend Jane until further notice. It’s okay, I understand, Gareth had said in a dramatic tone. Young love will do that to you, and Karen had laughed earnestly before bidding him goodbye and following her son to the parking lot.

“You can’t be serious,” Donny deadpanned when Gareth finished retelling the encounter to his friends.

“100% true. He’s pissy because his girlfriend isn’t coming over anymore.”

“That’s bullshit,” Jeff laughed. “He saw her in March, he can’t be that whipped.”

“Right? That’s what I said!”

“I dunno, guys,” Eddie said, pensive. “I’d be pretty upset if I couldn’t see my girl for months.”

“Well, Ed, lucky for you no one is planning to cut your right hand off,” Gareth said sarcastically, and Eddie pushed him over with his foot.

“I’m being serious, jackass. Can’t a guy be a romantic and travel to see his girlfriend often?”

“Any guy? Yes, sure. You, King of the Cynics? Give us a break,” Jeff scoffed.

“You’d really go all the way to Cali every few months just for a girl?” Dottie asked, eyes stuck to her sandwich. Will you actually come visit me in Michigan when I’m gone like you said you would? was what she really wanted to ask. Will you still love me even if we don’t see each other every day? Will I still be your girl when I live in a different state than you?

“Darling, I’d travel to another dimension for my girl,” he replied, voice a little bit too earnest for the casual conversation they were having.

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking corny,” Gareth threw his head back as he laid dramatically on the blanket. “You used to be cool, man, what happened to you?”

“I turned 20. Careful, it’ll happen to you too if you don’t watch out.”

The conversation quickly switched to different topics, like new music someone had recently discovered, a cool video game coming out soon, and most importantly, making plans for the upcoming weekend. Jeff was trying to convince everyone to go see a movie on Saturday, cleverly mentioning the air conditioning as a big selling point while they packed up the remnants of their lunch and headed to Eddie’s van.

“Is there even anything good playing right now?” Gareth asked, wishing the inflatable pool gathering dust in his garage didn’t have a hole in it.

“Don’t think so, Aliens isn’t coming out until next month,” Donny said. “Dot wanted to watch Labyrinth but that was next week, I think.”

“Hey, Dot!” Gareth yelled at her; she had stayed behind to fold their huge picnic blanket with Eddie. “When’s Labyrinth coming out?”

“Next Friday! Why?” she yelled back.

“Jeff wants to go to the movies tomorrow!”

“Unless it’s horror, I’m in. They have air conditioning!”

“See? What did I tell you?” Jeff said to Gareth and Donny, grinning. “We should go see Never Too Young to Die.”

“No! Nope, no, nuh-uh, I’m not watching any John Stamos willingly, my Nonna’s obsession with him is enough for me,” Donny groaned.

“She a General Hospital fan?” Gareth snickered.

“Yeah but they sent his character to jail a few years ago so he left the show and she followed him to his new sitcom. It’s shit, don’t watch it.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t,” Jeff affirmed. “But. Gene Simmons is in the movie so I think we should go watch it anyway.”

“Okay, now hold up-”

As soon as the boys disappeared behind the van, Eddie deliberately slowed down his actions so he could steal away a few seconds to talk to Dottie in private without their friends eavesdropping. While pretending like he was still trying to fit the blanket into her backpack, he looked up at Dottie with one eye closed to keep the sun from blinding him, his dimples on display as he beamed at her. She smiled, savoring their first moment alone of the day.

“So I was thinking,” he began, as he casually threw her bag over his shoulder and began slowly walking towards his van.

“Go on.”

“D’you wanna do something different today?”

“Different like what?”

“We could go to the lake,” he said, like he hadn’t been planning on inviting her all day. “We have a blanket already, and it’s a nice day, we could swim a little. Dunno, it’s too hot to be inside. And I think your Dad might be getting suspicious that I’m always around when he comes home.”

“Oh,” Dottie exclaimed, turning shy. “I- I’d love that but I’m not… I didn’t bring my swimsuit so-”

“Whatchu need a swimsuit for?”

Three sets of eyes were staring at them from the rear of the van, having been hidden from their sight in search of a bit of shadow to stand in while they waited for their friends. Jeff looked curious but innocent enough; it was Gareth and Donny that Eddie was suddenly afraid of. They were both looking at them with equally intrigued expressions, but where Donny was encouraging, Gareth was dangerously mischievous.

“Are you guys going to the pool without us?” the curly haired boy asked, staring pointedly at his best friends; Dottie looked like they’d been caught with their hands inside the proverbial cookie jar.

“No, no, definitely not,” Eddie stuttered. “I mean, who wants to go to the pool, right? It’s full of fuckin’ toddlers and their mommies, that’s so lame-”

“We were just talking about going to the lake but we don’t have swimsuits on us so we can’t go,” Dottie said, hoping to put an end to the topic.

“We can go anyways and swim in our undies,” Donny proposed, raising his eyebrows in Eddie’s direction. “It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“Uh, guys, I don’t think Dot’s comfortable with that,” Jeff looked at his friends.

“Yeah, yeah, totally, that’s why we said we weren’t going,” Eddie added, pushing everyone towards the van doors. “Why were you out here?”

“You didn’t give us your keys,” Gareth said, grinning at him.

“We can go.”

“Huh?” Eddie turned around to look at Dottie who was staring at the gravel.

“I, uh… It’s really hot today and we should- I mean, we don’t have to get in but we can- if you guys want to, we could still go. To the lake.”

“Yeah? You wanna go?” he asked, hopeful.

“Yeah, sure,” she smiled at him, cheeks red from the sun. “Why not?”

“Okay. Okay!” he said. “Everyone get in the van, we’re going to the lake!”

“Oooh, can we stop to buy beer on the way?”

“And more chips!”

Dottie and Eddie looked at each other sheepishly and shrugged before following their friends. Time alone for the lovebirds would have to wait until later, but who could say no to a new adventure presented in such an impromptu but lovely way? Summer had only just begun after all, and no one could see the storm brewing on the horizon yet. Might as well make the most out of their day if the sun was still shining, right?

Eddie had had it all planned out. As he tossed and turned in his bed the previous night, he decided that on Friday he was going to take his girlfriend to their spot at the lake, lay down on their blanket under the trees and kick their shoes off for a while. He had made sure his acoustic guitar was tuned to perfection, and had shoved it into the back of his van to serenade her until the sun went down, the Snoopy thermos bottle Wayne had gotten him for his birthday hidden away in his backpack and full of apple flavored Kool-Aid - her favorite. He was going to romance the shit out of his girl and kiss her until he felt they’d had enough without having to worry for a single second about her Dad coming home from work early and catching them sprawled out on the couch. Or her bed. Or worse, the kitchen counter.

The Hellfire Class of ‘86 was touchy, there was no denying it. None of them really knew what personal space meant, everyone was always on top of each other, and they’d shared enough meals together to still be disgusted about the notion of having to drink from the same cup. Eddie and Dottie were actually not the worst offenders of the group, at least not in public, but by the sheer nature of their secret relationship, the pair were on their toes about just how much physical familiarity they displayed in front of others. This was exactly the reason why during the past week, they’d reserved their soft touches and gentle caresses to when they were tucked away inside Dottie’s home, shielded from any straying eyes and the relentless gossip mill that haunted Hawkins at every step.

On Thursday, however, things had taken a turn. Maybe it had been the climbing heat of the summer, or the natural excitement that having a shared secret filled them with. Maybe it had been the fact that the cute domesticity they had enjoyed while they were still in high school had intensified by virtue of now having the house alone for entire afternoons while James was still at work. Maybe it was Eddie’s work coveralls like Thatcher had implied, lightly stained with grease and tied at his waist, or maybe it was Dottie’s flowy red sundress, his favorite color. The truth was that the waters between them had reached a boiling point, and Eddie had finally snapped and crowded his girlfriend against the counter while she was putting together a snack tray for them to enjoy, uncaring to the clock that ticked on above the kitchen door.

In an uncharacteristic move, Dottie had let herself take what she needed from her boyfriend, and in turn, he had let her explore this new side of their relationship in earnest. He’d helped her climb onto the counter where she sat prettily, lips attached to lips and hands roaming with the eagerness of an explorer. She’d kissed him before, but never like this. Never with this much urgency, like she couldn’t bear the thought of not kissing him. Mouths roamed to necks, fronts pressed against fronts, and Eddie ventured a burning hand under her skirt, tracing up, up, up on the outside of her left thigh when the sound of a car door being closed with force made them jump apart.

They’d looked at the entrance door with apprehension for a few seconds before they heard the neighbor’s dog barking loudly, clearly welcoming his owner who was unlatching his noisy sidegate and trying to control his furry friend before anyone in the neighborhood complained. Eddie and Dottie stared at each other for a few seconds, hearts racing and breathing ragged before he broke into a fit of nervous giggles. She’d tucked her head down and smiled shyly, getting off the counter and going back to the task she’d been working on before she’d let her innermost thoughts guide her actions.

Eddie had fooled around with people before, but this, he felt, was different. This wasn’t a one-and-done deal, some fun in the back of his van that he could feel good about while ignoring the fact that no one had really asked him for his name or his number before he saw them leave. No, this was different because Dottie was different. She was his girlfriend, not a random stranger at The Hideout, and yet Eddie couldn’t help but feel uneasy about the way she pretended nothing had happened for the rest of the day. There was no more flirty banter, no cheeky hands on knees, no sneaky kisses after her Dad walked into the house 15 minutes later. Eddie didn’t claim to be an expert in relationships, but he figured then he had to follow her lead.

If Dottie wanted to wait, he’d wait for as long as she wanted, and so he was going to take her to the lake and sing for her until his throat hurt. Nothing more, nothing less. For her, Eddie Munson could and would be the perfect boyfriend. That is, if their friends could stop getting in his way.

“Sweet, the dock is still here!” Gareth exclaimed, looking out of the window.

“Park over there, man,” Donny instructed from the co-pilot seat. “Sun’s gonna move soon, we’ll get more shadow under that tree.”

Quickly, all five teens jumped off the van before it came to a halt, desperate to feel the breeze on their skin. The afternoon heat had given way to an oppressive humidity that could be felt under every piece of clothing they were wearing, and no one wanted to sit on Eddie’s itchy fabric and leather seats for any longer than they absolutely had to. They spread their blanket near the van, sneakers piled up on every corner so the wind couldn’t steal it away while they were cooling off in the lake, a plastic milk crate in the middle serving as an impromptu table.

“Who the fuck bought Bud Light?” Jeff asked, hauling the cold case of beer cans out of the back of the van.

“It was the cheapest one they had,” Eddie said.

“No way PBR isn’t cheaper,” Gareth said.

“Yeah, but PBR tastes like corn,” Donny laughed, dropping two new bags of chips onto the blanket.

“Ed, what’s in here?” Dottie’s soft voice rang through the clearing.

She was holding his backpack on one hand, the heavy Snoopy thermos on the other. Eddie opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before he hoisted his guitar higher on his shoulder, desperately trying to act nonchalant so the rest of the boys wouldn’t pick up on his now ruined plan.

“That’d be apple Kool-Aid,” he admitted, a shy smile gracing his face. “Forgot to tell you I had some earlier, sorry.”

“Ew,” Gareth scrunched his face. “That’s, like, the worst kind of Kool-Aid.”

“Hey, watch it,” Eddie said, pushing him off balance lightly. “That’s her favorite.”

“Your favorite Kool-Aid flavor is apple?” the younger boy turned to her. “That’s so gross, it tastes like piss.”

“Damn, G, whose piss have you been drinking to know that?” she retorted, making their friends snort.

“Okay, enough chit-chat! I’m overheating here, let’s get in the water,” Donny said, bending down to take his socks off.

“Last in buys the popcorn tomorrow!” Gareth yelled, pulling his shirt off and letting his shorts fall to the ground before running towards the wooden dock in his briefs.

Donny and Eddie looked at each other, shrugged once, and hurried to get their clothes off as well, both of them immediately cannonballing into the cold water. Dottie watched them shove each other under the surface, loud screaming and laughter echoing within the confines of their little hidden place in the woods. She hadn’t missed the meaning of the bottle in her hand - Eddie had thought of her that morning before he left for work. He’d packed it for her, along with the guitar resting on the checkered fabric on the grass. Her eyes searched for her boyfriend, his wild hair flattened with the weight of the droplets clinging to his curls. To her side, blue and white fabric rustled, startling her out of her thoughts.

“Are you getting in?” Jeff asked when she turned to look at him.

“Uh, I- I’m not sure,” Dottie admitted. “You?”

“Y-yeah. Same.”

She examined him with gentle eyes, noticing the beads of sweat gathering at his hairline. It was clear he was feeling hot, his thick jeans sticking to the skin of his legs, the fabric around his collar getting darker with perspiration. She felt the heat too, but she had had the foresight of wearing shorts and a cotton tank top that day; his three-quarter sleeved Black Sabbath shirt didn’t look like it allowed much air to reach his feverish skin under it.

Donny and Gareth have older sisters, she realized all of a sudden as Jeff looked forlornly at their friends. It was probably normal for siblings to see each other in various states of undress as they grew up, especially if they shared bedrooms or bathrooms. Donny had been Vittoria and Isabella’s baby doll before little Giulietta had been born, and while the age difference between Gareth and Gretchen was smaller than Donny’s and his older sisters’, the fact that their bedrooms were connected through a Jack-and-Jill meant that they’d seen each other in their underwear more often than either of them could count by the time they’d both entered elementary school.

Jeff only had an older brother, and he probably felt a bit shy taking his clothes in front of Dottie. If she was being honest with herself, had she not been worried about being semi-naked in front of Eddie for the first time ever, she would most likely have had the same concerns as him.

“You can go in with them if you want to,” she said, motioning towards the lake with her head and trying to be encouraging. “I don’t mind you guys being in your undies around me if that’s what’s stopping you.”

“No, it’s- it’s fine, I’m not hot,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Jeff, you’re sweating buckets. I can turn around until you’re in the water if that makes you feel better.”

“No, it’s- it’s not you,” he sighed, apprehension on his face. “It’s everyone, I guess? I- I’m not used to, like, showing my legs to people. It makes me feel weird.”

“Oh,” Dottie said, not really understanding the issue but still aiming to be supportive. “Are you like super hairy or something? Because Donny could knit a blanket with his leg hair and no one cares, I promise no one’s gonna make fun of you.”

“No, no, I’m not hairy,” he snorted. “I mean I have some hair, I’m a guy, but no, he’s definitely the hairiest out of all of us.”

“Dunno, man, you haven’t seen me in winter when I don’t shave,” she joked, and he smiled at her gratefully for making their conversation feel lighter.

“It’s not hair I’m worried about,” Jeff said, turning towards her and lowering his voice. “Swear you won’t laugh?”

“It’s just me, Jeff,” she put her hands in her back pockets and shrugged. “When have I ever laughed at you about anything?”

Jeff hadn’t known what to expect when Dottie first joined Hellfire. They’d had a couple of female members in the club as the years had gone by, but none of them were quite like her and he didn’t know what to make of it at that time. Dottie, for starters, did not look like she was into heavy metal or nerdy stuff, dressing like any other girl he could have seen on the street, complete with trendy pastels and dainty florals. She had, however, been incredibly kind and not judgemental, eager to learn how to play D&D and taking it way more seriously than he’d thought she would on their first session, and that - along with the snacks she’d brought with her that day - had helped make him less wary of her intentions.

It certainly surprised him when all three of his best friends immediately struck a friendship with her, particularly Gareth who had a reputation of not knowing how to talk to girls in the first place. Still, in just a few short weeks, Dottie’d become a permanent fixture within their friend group and Jeff had no reasons to contradict them when the girl who sat next to him during World History lessons often smiled at him like a timid puppy asking for her new owner to play with her. If she was willing to put in the work to call him a friend, he would oblige and do the same, and that was exactly what he had done all those months ago.

“Okay, yeah,” he said, nodding a couple of times while he gathered courage. “It’s just- I, uh, I have a lot of marks on my legs. And I don’t like when people stare at them. It feels like they’re judging me.”

“Marks like scars or…?”

“Like stretch marks. I have them on the backs of my knees and on my hips. They’re… they’re kinda a lot. My Mom used to rub this oil on me to make them smaller but I don’t think it did anything to be honest.”

“I get it,” Dottie smiled. “I have them too, y’know.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” she said, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “I have them on my butt and my hips. Here, look-” she moved her leg to the side and pulled the cuff of her jean shorts higher, letting him see the web of silvery scars climbing on the side of her leg.

“Wow.”

“I used to hate undressing in the locker room because none of my friends had them and I thought they were ugly, and then my Auntie Rachel said I should think of them like a badge of honor. Like you survived puberty and now you have all these battle scars to show for it, right?” she said, and Jeff snorted. “I know. It sounds so stupid, but it did make me feel better about them so… Dunno. It hurt like hell to get them so maybe she’s got a point.”

“God, yes. Some nights it felt like someone was trying to shatter my fucking kneecaps from the inside,” he laughed, happy to commiserate with a friend.

“Dude, I was terrified! No one told me growth spurts felt like being tied to those goddamn medieval beds that stretch your limbs until they snap, I thought I was dying,” she said. “It was the worst, honestly. I’m happy I stayed kinda short because that shit was painful.”

“Do all of yours look white?” Jeff asked, curious.

“Now they do but they used to look pink and a bit swollen, like when a cat scratches you on the leg, y’know? But they turned white after a while, so I guess that means they’ve healed. Yours don’t look like that?”

“Not really, no. I could show you if you want.”

Dottie was aware that Jeff was trusting her with something very important with his offering. Not wanting to spook him off while he was being so vulnerable with her, she nodded eagerly and waited for him to push his jeans down until they touched the soft grass under his feet. He bent down to grab them and fold them carefully while she looked at his legs with an interested expression, but not a malicious one.

“I actually didn’t know stretch marks could look like that,” she said, embarrassed.

“I didn’t know either until I got them,” he said, hands twitching nervously at his sides. “It’s probably because my skin is darker than yours.”

Jeff stood in that clearing in the blue checkered boxers his Mom had bought for him, and felt the breeze calm his heated skin. The backs of his knees were damp with sweat, and Dottie could see them painted with both cream and very dark brown scars at the point where his calf joined the back of his thigh. The intricate webbing stopped after a few inches, and then resumed at his hips, hidden by the breathable fabric, but traces of it could be seen near the elastic at the top. Jeff’s lower body had stretched and stretched, making him as tall as his brother and as slender as his mother, and the signs were displayed for the world to see for what was probably the first time since he’d gotten them.

Wordlessly, Dottie’s hands went to the top of her shorts and undid her belt, zipper falling open afterwards as her legs kicked the jean fabric aside. Jeff’s eyes roamed the patches of skin she’d mentioned before, observing silvery threads in similar patterns to his own as they climbed the sides of her upper thighs, her high-cut cotton panties not helping to conceal them unlike his choice of underwear. They smiled at each other and it was suddenly very clear to both of them that there was nothing to fear here; there was not an ounce of shame or embarrassment to behold in that clearing.

“So… do you wanna get in now?” Jeff asked, pulling bravery out of thin air.

“I… Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do it if you do it,” she grinned at him, conspiratorially.

“Okay, let’s- let’s just go for it!”

With the sort of giddiness that comes from overcoming a personal hurdle, the two teens finished undressing and walked side by side to the little dock where they sat down until they both felt comfortable enough in their own skin to jump into the water together. Jeff hadn’t known what to expect when he’d first met Dottie, but he was infinitely glad he took the chance to get to know her, thankful that his friends had had much better foresight about her than he did upon their first encounter.

Eddie wanted to drown himself. Was that a dramatic reaction to the situation at hand? Most likely, yes, but he’d never been known to be a level-headed guy in the first place so he couldn’t really be blamed for it. Not only had his plans to share a romantic afternoon with his girl been thwarted by their friends poking their noses where they didn’t belong, but also the first time Eddie was seeing Dottie in her underwear was at the same time everyone was seeing her in her underwear, and quite frankly, he didn’t care for it one bit.

It wasn’t that Eddie was jealous - that ship had sailed a long time ago and sunk to the bottom of the ocean more and more every time she told him she loved him - but he did feel like he had been cheated out of a very important First in their relationship. He’d imagined the moment very differently, and he was very much upset that he could only allow himself glimpses of her so as not to seem like a creep while she sat on the dock with Jeff, their calves shoved into the water as they chatted amicably. Still, while his friends were distracted, he felt like he could allow himself a few moments to take in the little things that he could observe about her and catalog them in his own brain under the Think About Later, Preferably While I’m Alone And In The Shower label.

If the magazines hidden underneath his bed were supposed to capture the hottest people on Earth, then Dottie was, in his eyes, a goddess living amongst common folk. Upon seeing her lounging by the water, he was reminded of that one time in Art class when their teacher had given them a presentation about statues in Ancient Greece - something about why so many of them didn’t have arms, and how beauty standards had changed throughout the years. Eddie hadn’t really cared for it at the time, but staring at the soft pudge protruding from her stomach and the thick thighs that molded themselves to the wood under them, he felt like if he were to carve Aphrodite herself in stone, she would have looked like one Dorothy Burke.

Every single detail about her was overwhelming to him. The myriad of moles that littered her body, the way the hairs on her arms stood to attention when she pulled her legs out of the cold water and the breeze hit them just right, the liquid silver that marred the skin on her hips. Her toes painted bright pink, her cute chuckles at whatever Jeff was saying, her hair moving in the wind as she stood at the dock gathering courage to jump in, the unassuming set of matching bra and panties she’d chosen to wear that day: cotton, little soft pink flowers dotting the fabric and two tiny non-functional baby pink bows, one sewn between her breasts and one underneath her belly button. He felt like a pervert ogling her and a worshiper at her altar at the same time, and he had to stop looking at her and chill the fuck out before anyone noticed that he would have gone to war, written poetry, and gladly died for her if she asked him to do so right that second.

“Eddie!” Gareth called, startling him out of his thoughts. Jeff and Dottie had already jumped into the lake and joined the fun. “You in for chicken? Dot’s gonna be the referee.”

“Hell yeah, man! Same teams as usual?” Eddie replied, doing what he did best when caught daydreaming: pretend he hadn’t been daydreaming.

“You’re going down, bitch!” Donny yelled before lowering himself underwater so Gareth could climb on his shoulders.

“Hey Ed, do you mind if I go on top this time?” Jeff asked, surprising Eddie.

A long time ago, the eldest Vitale sister, Isabella, had heard the boys gossip about Jeff and didn’t like what she’d eavesdropped on one bit. They’d been sitting in the living room at Donny’s house, putting away the pieces of the board game they had been playing on a rainy afternoon when the topic of Jeff and his pants had come up. The boy hadn’t been present for the conversation; his Mom had picked him up a few minutes earlier, and so his friends had felt like it was safe to speculate on why he was so hellbent on not wearing the mandatory shorts everyone else wore during gym class. Isabella heard them mention his newly acquired stretch marks and dismiss it as the issue at hand rather quickly, moving on to juicier theories like secret tattoos or acne in weird places. She’d shut them down in an instant.

From that day on and thanks to a long stream of yelling coming from Isabella, the boys understood that Jeff was sensitive about showing his bare legs to the world, and that if they really considered him a friend, they’d stop making a note of it every time he chose joggers over shorts and covered himself with a big towel after getting out of the pool. So in that moment, while Jeff seemed to not care that his scars were on display for everyone to scrutinize, Eddie resolved to immediately shove his head underwater and help him onto his shoulders, happy to prove to him that he’d been wrong all along when hiding himself around their friend group.

The little corner of Lover’s Lake that the Hellfire teens had chosen as their spot for the afternoon had never seen a battle the likes of The Great Chicken Fight of ‘86. Both teams fought fiercely, sometimes winning, sometimes choking on a bit of lake water, but after several rounds Donny and Eddie asked for a break to let their shoulders rest, and Team Donny and Gareth was officially crowned as the champion for the day.

At around five, every cloud in the sky was officially gone and the temperature had started to drop so everyone agreed it was time to get out of the lake and enjoy the sun before it went down behind the trees. Eddie offered Donny and Gareth to share a joint as their prize, and they gladly accepted it, all three of them grabbing a couple of beers each and sitting on the dock to smoke and get pleasantly buzzed. Not interested in partaking, Jeff and Dottie chose to go back to the blanket near the van where they sat down and drank their beers while he plucked some tunes out of his friend’s acoustic guitar.

“That sounds gorgeous,” Dottie told him sincerely, lying on her front on the blanket, head resting on her crossed arms and legs swinging behind her.

“My Mom loves this song,” Jeff said, playing the intro of Ain’t No Sunshine by Bill Withers once more.

“I’ve never heard of it before,” she admitted. “Can you sing it for me?”

“Yeah, for sure,” he smiled, always happy to spread his love of music around.

Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone, Jeff crooned, his tone raspier than usual and carrying over to where the guys were sitting at the dock. It’s not warm when she’s away, ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone, and she’s always gone too long, anytime she goes away. Dottie stared at her friend in awe of his raw gift. All the Corroded Coffin members were talented, she knew that very well, but Jeff had always been the most shy in demonstrating it outside of Gareth’s garage and the relative anonymity of The Hideout, perhaps due to his father’s silent disapproval of his son’s artistic inclination.

And I know, I know, I know, I know… After observing countless practices and a couple of their weekly gigs, Dottie was fairly confident that while Eddie was the most talented guitar player out of the two, Jeff had the best voice in the band by far. As he sang about longing for someone who leaves often, she couldn’t help but think of themselves, about how summer was ticking by fast and one day, they’d all have to say goodbye to each other for a while like they had done with Dustin the previous weekend. And this house just ain’t no home, anytime she goes away.

“That was… wow,” she shook her head in disbelief once he had finished his rendition. “Bill Withers you said?”

“Mhm. He’s from West Virginia, you know? My Granddad is always talking about him,” Jeff said, going back to playing basic chord progressions while he explained.

“Maybe you’ll get to meet him while you’re there.”

“I doubt it, he’s probably like a gazillionaire by now. He totally lives in LA.”

“Never too late to ask for a transfer,” she joked, and he scoffed like he was offended at the suggestion.

“This sucks, man,” he sighed, putting the guitar aside and dropping onto the blanket next to her, elbows bumping. “All this time I’ve been looking for any excuses to leave this shithole and now that I have them, I don’t wanna go.”

“It’s just four years. We’ll blink and be back here before we know it. And there’s the holidays too, we have to come see family and stuff.”

“Yeah, I guess. Unless we get real jobs and then we won’t be able to come back.”

“Yeah, maybe. Can I tell you a secret?” she whispered.

“Of course.”

“I’m super scared that when we leave you guys will forget about me,” she said, turning around to lay on her back. “Like I’m gonna come back to Hawkins for Christmas break and it’ll be like I never existed.”

“You’re insane,” Jeff shook his head. “There’s no way we’d forget about you. Especially Eddie.”

“W-what do you mean?” Dottie said, hand draped over her eyes to hide her expression.

“Okay, so I know I’m not like an expert on this,” he began. “-but I think Eddie really likes you. As in, more than friends.”

“Oh,” she replied, trying very hard not to laugh. “That’s… I don’t know what to say. You really think so?”

“I’ve never seen him act like this before. It’s like someone brainwashed him, but in a good way? Dunno. He seems happier when you’re around. I think we all are, actually.”

“Aw, Jeffie,” she cooed, sitting up and pulling him into a one-armed hug, ignoring the fact that none of them had bothered to put their clothes back on after getting out of the water. “I’m really happy with you guys too, senior year would have completely sucked if I hadn’t met you. I think that’s what scares me the most, because I told you about my friends in New York and how they used to forget about me during summer and I just- I don’t want things to change, y’know? I’m happy like this!”

“Nothing’s going to change, Dot,” he said, sitting up too. “Well, I mean, everything is going to change when we go off to college, but that doesn’t mean we have to change. We’ll all still be friends… and maybe you and Eddie can be more than friends,” she shoved him and he laughed. “But we’ll keep in touch. We’ll send postcards, and letters, and we can call each other, you’ll see.”

“Promise me,” Dottie said, lifting her pinky finger. “Promise me we’ll still be best friends even when I’m in Michigan and you’re in West Virginia.”

“The better Virginia,” he said dramatically, linking his pinky with hers.

“The best Virginia, but only when you’re in it.”

“Why are you buttering me up so much? What terrible song do you want me to play next?” he narrowed his eyes, but they both knew he would always gladly play anything his friends asked for.

“Well, now that you mention it…”

Jeff picked up the guitar again before she could finish her sentence and launched into a sped up version of Back in the U.S.S.R by The Beatles, making Dottie dissolve into giggles as he faked a terrible British accent. Eddie watched from the dock, his bare back resting on old wood while Gareth and Donny talked next to him. He couldn’t even be mad at the fact that Jeff was fulfilling his fantasy; he was enjoying the tunes too and the view of his girlfriend lounging on the grass in her undies was enough to keep him content for the moment.

“Might wanna be less obvious with the staring, bud,” Donny said, bringing him back to the present instead of fixating on how she pushed her bra strap back onto her shoulder when it moved out of place.

“Fuck off,” Eddie scoffed. “I wasn’t staring. I was zoning out.”

“Sure you were,” Gareth said, sharing a conspiratorial glance with Donny. “That why you planned this cute little date? So you could zone out?”

“Cute little date? You mean the chill hangout you were both invited to?” Eddie said.

“You brought the dragon slayer guitar, man. This was not a casual hangout and you know it.”

“It was already in my van, I didn’t do shit.”

“Yeah, right. What about the Kool-Aid then? Her favorite flavor? Come on, Ed, we know you’re into her,” Donny said plainly. “Why are you so scared of asking her out?”

“I’m not!”

“Then why haven’t you already?!”

“I have!” he said, exasperation making him slip up.

“You have?!” Both Gareth and Donny stared at him, confused.

“I- I mean… No, I- I was gonna ask her today. And then you assholes ruined it,” Eddie deflected, making them feel bad about it to cover up his mistake. “I love you both, but you’re nosy as hell. I’m not telling you shit about anything anymore.”

“Okay, that’s so fuckin’ rude,” Gareth said, exaggerating being upset for drama. “We’re rooting for you two, jackass, you don’t gotta treat us like the enemy. We can help you if you want!”

“Nope, I don’t need any help, thank you. I’m doing pretty okay without you.”

“Really? Because from where we’re sitting, Jeff is the one having the date you planned with your girl. You might wanna hurry up and make your move before he swoops in.”

“First, don’t use Jeff of all people to try and make me jealous. That’s lame and you know that, we’re all friends here,” Eddie scolded Gareth, making him raise his hands to concede. “Second, I have nothing to worry about.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

Eddie was about to answer when a damp haired Dottie approached them, Eddie’s black sleeveless shirt that he had cut himself hanging from her fingers. She stopped right in front of them, beaming down at her boyfriend with cheeks tainted red from the sun.

“What’s up, princess?” he smirked, knowing that his friends were watching the interaction curiously.

“Can I pretty-please borrow your shirt for a bit? I’m cold but I don’t wanna put my shorts on, I don’t wanna get them wet,” she pouted at him, as if she thought he’d ever say no to her.

“Yeah, of course. There’s a flannel somewhere in the back of the van if you want that one.”

“No, this one’s okay!” Dottie said, lifting the shirt and putting her head through it. “Thank you!”

She hopped away and back towards Jeff while she pulled her arms through the big holes at the sides, the black fabric falling down her back until it covered the delicate flower pattern on her panties. Eddie took a sip of his beer can and turned to look at the boys; Donny was holding in a chuckle and Gareth was staring at him in disbelief.

“You were asking?” Eddie said, smug.

“I… Shut the fuck up,” Gareth shook his head.

“You two are gonna be so gross when you actually start dating,” Donny said, thoroughly entertained.

“Maybe. Or maybe we’re already dating and we just haven’t told you,” Eddie said, mysteriously.

“Yeah, right. You’re like the most transparent person on Earth, Ed,” Gareth said.

“And she’s the worst liar ever,” Donny added, making Eddie snort.

What they don’t know can’t hurt them, Eddie thought as they switched topics and he took another glance at his girlfriend in the distance. She was looking right back at him with a smitten smile on her face, so he winked at her once, watching how she turned bashful and looked away from him. He wasn’t trying to be mean to their friends but when he had said sneaking around could be fun, he didn’t know how absolutely right he would be, and Eddie was determined to make the most of it before they had to come clean when summer drew to a close.

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Are you asking me out? Should I be worried about the guys tagging along again?”

“Ha, ha, you’re so funny. Answer the question.”

Eddie and Dottie were waiting for a red light to change back to green on the way to her home after having dropped everyone else off. When the sun started to disappear behind the treeline, the Hellfire Class of ‘86 very reluctantly decided it was time to return to society where wearing clothes was expected of them. Eddie had mourned in silence the fact that Dottie wasn’t wearing his shirt anymore, but considering it had been warm when she gave it back to him, he felt like a small mercy had been afforded to him in his time of suffering. The temperature was falling fast as the daylight said goodbye to Hawkins for the night, making Dottie burrow further into the co-pilot seat as she turned to the side to look at the metalhead.

“Well, I was thinking I really need a shower before I do anything else because I am covered in lake water and I feel sticky and gross. And- I don’t know, maybe watch a movie before bed? You? Got any plans?”

“Not yet,” Eddie said, changing gears before he let his hand find hers, interlacing their fingers. “Was kinda hoping you could help me out with that.”

“Oh, so you are asking me out,” Dottie smiled.

“Well, since our super romantic date turned into you having to see all our hairy asses, I thought it’d be nice to make it up to you,” he shot her a quick smile before turning his eyes back onto the road. “Wanna pick up a pizza and have dinner with me and Wayne? We can get a movie too, and you can stay over if you want. He won’t mind.”

“I don’t know, Ed,” she sighed, her thumb drawing patterns on the back of his hand. “I want to, I really do, but staying the night is… Don’t know if I can get away with that.”

“Don’t wanna keep lying to your Dad, huh?”

“No, well… I don’t actually mind the lying. He’d kinda freak out if he knew, I think. And he’d sit me down to have the most awkward talk in the world and like, I’m sorry, I know he’d mean well but he’s late on that by like four years. Mrs. Maybelle beat him to it and she did a damn good job.”

“Health teacher?”

“Mhm. She was so cool. I think she single-handedly lowered the teen pregnancy statistics in my school.”

“Wow. Go Mrs. Maybelle,” he chuckled. “It’s okay though, we’ll see each other tomorrow. Or you can still come over only for dinner, I know Wayne misses you.”

“He does?” she bit her lip as she smiled, warmth spreading inside her chest.

“Pfft, are you kidding? He likes you more than he likes me. Asks me about you all the time,” Eddie said, a tinge of pride in his voice, like he loved the fact that his Uncle and his girlfriend got along so well.

Dottie stared at their intertwined hands as she mulled over his words, only snapping out of it when he moved to switch gears again without letting her fingers go. The van slowly came to a stop on her driveway, the soft murmur of the engine filling the quiet of the summer night. He turned to look at her with curiosity when she made no moves to get out; she was burning a hole on her front door with nervous eyes, thumb on her free hand lodged between her lips as she bit down on her nail gently.

“I’m gonna take a shower first,” she muttered. “Then we can go. And we have to tell my Dad everyone is staying over at yours too.”

“Okay,” he said, the side of his mouth coming up in an amused smile. “Anything else?”

“For dinner, can we get something that isn’t pizza? I’ve been having Italian all week, Donny’s family keeps feeding me everything on the menu so I can recommend it to the customers. I think I’ll die if I eat any more dough this week.”

“Of course,” he chuckled at her dramatics. “KFC okay? Wayne loves a drumstick.”

“KFC sounds great actually.”

Finally turning off the van and heading inside, the pair put some distance between them to seem casual in front of James, who sat on the couch half asleep with a crossword puzzle in his hand and the TV tuned in to some random game show he wasn’t really watching. He took his glasses off and brushed a hand over his face tiredly, opening his arms so Dottie could beeline in his direction and give him a big hug.

“Hey honey, where have you been?” James said, voice gruff after a very long week.

“We went to the lake,” she said, perching on the armrest next to him, Eddie taking a seat in the armchair near them. “It was too hot to do anything else today. How was work?”

“Tiring. S’that why you smell like a swamp? Because you got in the lake?”

“Dad! You’re so mean, I do not smell like a swamp.”

“You kinda do,” Eddie said, giving her a toothy smile.

“You’re not supposed to gang up on me, you got into the lake too,” she stuck her tongue out at him and he laughed in response. “If it’s so bad I’m gonna go take a shower and you two can finally be free from my ogre smell.”

“Are you two hanging out here tonight?” James asked, hand holding onto his daughter’s wrist for a second before she could leave. “What do you want for dinner?”

“We’re going back to Eddie’s for movie night. Everyone went home to shower first,” Dottie lied.

“Oh, okay. You’re staying over or you need me to pick you up later?”

“I think we’re staying but if not, Donny can drive me back, don’t worry about it. We’re supposed to go to the theater tomorrow anyway, Jeff was saying something about Gene Simmons being in a movie? Dunno. I’m pretty excited about the aircon though.”

“Of course you are,” her Dad laughed, finally letting her arm go. “Go back to the Black Lagoon now, shoo.”

“Dad, stop it!”

Dottie had long ago stopped worrying about the kinds of conversation her Dad and Eddie got up to while she wasn’t around as they often revolved around three distinct subjects: nerd stuff, cars, and whatever interesting thing had happened recently. That day’s talk seemed to be about a high end car that had come into Thatcher’s shop in the morning, and as both men marveled at its engineering like they were kids at Christmas, Dottie headed upstairs to the bathroom to rid herself of her dirty clothes and the sticky lake residue on her skin.

The water coming out of the showerhead pinged off the tiles softly, the echoey nature of the room lulling her into a sense of peace and comfort as she slowly undressed and stepped into the empty tub. Dottie took her time relaxing after a long week of intense training at her new job, gentle fingertips working her ginger and mint scented shampoo on her scalp. Her sun-kissed skin felt like it was sizzling under the warm water, more cold than hot to ease the tightness under the red patches. She turned off the water after rinsing all the soap off, wrapped herself in a fluffy white towel and padded her way to her bedroom to finish getting ready for the night.

While she dried herself and applied moisturizer to her shoulders, cheeks and bridge of her nose to avoid her skin peeling off, Dottie stared at her wardrobe with a million questions on her tongue. It was easy enough to put together an outfit for the casual date night - any t-shirt and pair of shorts would suffice for dinner with Eddie and Wayne. It was, however, the rest of her clothes that worried her, from which set of pjs would be appropriate for the eldest Munson to see her in when they inevitably shared breakfast together the following morning yet still cute enough to wear while cuddling up under a blanket with Eddie while they watched a movie, down to, most importantly, her undergarments.

Dottie, while having very limited experience, was no stranger to what sort of things couples would get up to when they had an empty house to themselves. Standing next to her dresser with her underwear drawer open, she weighed all options in her mind. Would Eddie mind that she didn’t own anything like she’d seen on the girls in the magazines under his bed? Would he care about what she wore at all? Was he even interested in taking the next big step with her? It had certainly seemed so on Thursday, but he had backed off completely afterwards leaving Dottie to overthink their interactions until she had finally fallen asleep.

Truth be told, if she really had to consider it, was she ready? She felt comfortable with him, yes, she definitely felt safe, but did that mean anything had to happen that specific night? Eddie had seen her in a completely normal set of underwear all day and hadn’t said a thing. He hadn’t even kissed her. He’d held her hand in the van after everyone left, and he’d been as affectionate and friendly as ever, but aside from that… was he put off now that he knew what she looked like under her clothes?

No. Stop it, Dottie told herself before she could go down a dangerous spiral. He didn’t say anything good but also he didn’t say anything bad. He was probably just embarrassed to say something with everyone around, that’s all. He’ll totally mention it tonight, that’s why he wants you to come over. With a confidence that was more performative than real, she chose a simple white cotton set that felt cute but was also comfortable enough to sleep in, grabbed her favorite pajamas and quickly put an overnight bag together before climbing down the stairs before she could regret her choices. In the living room, Eddie and James were still talking about the fancy car.

“You ready?” Eddie got up when she approached them. “I’ll drop you off at Family Video while I pick up the chicken.”

“Okay. Any suggestions?”

“You pick,” he smiled at her. “But get the two movie deal with the popcorn, I’ll get you gummy bears at the station.”

“Got it,” Dottie turned to her Dad. “I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, is that okay?”

“Go have fun,” James enveloped her in a hug. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too, honey,” he kissed her forehead and let her go to shake Eddie’s hand goodbye. “You two be safe, alright? Say hi to Wayne from me.”

“Will do, sir. Have a good night,” Eddie said, wondering not for the first time if James knew more than he let on.

Dottie walked into Family Video with a simple mission: she had to find two movies that both her and Eddie could enjoy together. They both liked fantasy and sci-fi, but a lore-heavy or emotionally compelling movie didn’t feel like the right choice for a night where everything was meant to change between them, and certainly horror was out of the picture if she wanted to get a wink of sleep for the following week. Something lighthearted and fun like Ghostbusters or Beverly Hills Cop seemed like the perfect choice in her mind, and she knew just the person to ask for help in her quest.

The smell of plastic and air freshener filled the air as she surveyed the store for that familiar head of hair she’d come to be really fond of, but when she finally found it, her plans were immediately thrown off the table. Robin Buckley stood in the children’s movie aisle looking very overwhelmed while being surrounded by three little kids and their sweet grandma, who was trying to pick a movie for them. The kids kept showing different tapes to her, and the old lady insisted Robin explain the gist of each of them so she could decide which one was more appropriate for her grandchildren to watch. By the looks of it, this had been going on for several minutes before Dottie’s arrival judging by how disheveled Robin’s vest was getting as the kids tugged on it trying to catch her attention and offer yet another tape as a new contender.

“Hi, welcome to Family Video! How can I help you?” a man’s voice beckoned Dottie further into the store, only to find herself face to face with one Steve Harrington.

“Oh hey, nice to see you again!” she said honestly, watching how the friendly looking boy lit up at her acknowledgement of him.

“Yeah, nice to see you too! Congrats on graduation, by the way,” Steve said, leaning onto the counter.

“Thank you!”

“So, what can I help you with? Unless you’re here for Robin.”

“Oh, no, it’s- well, actually I did want her help but I guess if you two are friends that means you must have good taste too, right?”

“That was kinda a backhanded compliment but I’ll take it anyway,” Steve joked. “What were you looking for? I’m not an expert like Rob, but I’ve seen some cool stuff since I got this job.”

“I was looking for something light? Like… I don’t know, something like Back to the Future maybe?” Dottie mused, following him to one of the aisles at the front of the store.

“You’re in luck because I did see that one. Instant classic. I don’t get why Alex P. Keaton was trying to bang his Mom though, what was up with that?” he lowered his voice conspiratorially, making her chuckle.

“He wasn’t, she was trying to bang him,” she said, and Steve’s eyebrows shot up. “She didn’t know he was her son. Are you sure you’ve seen it?”

“Of course I did,” he scoffed. “I saw it with Robin - hey, Rob!”

“Steve, I’m a little busy here,” Robin raised her voice from her side of the store, throwing daggers at him with her eyes.

“Just answer this for me please: did I see Back to the Future with you or not?”

“Yeah, why-”

“Thank you!” Steve triumphantly turned back to Dottie who was watching the entire interaction with an amused expression on her face. “What did I tell you? I saw it!”

“Okay, I believe you,” she laughed. “Can you help me find something similar to that since you’re Michael J. Fox’s biggest fan?”

“Who’s that?” he asked, back turned as he browsed the shelves in search of a VHS he knew he had stocked earlier in the week. “Aha! Here it is, Teen Wolf. I saw it on a date like a month ago, I think you’d like it.”

“Yeah? How did that date turn out for you?”

“Really bad, but the movie was great,” he tapped on the plastic cover. “Big recommend.”

“You’ve convinced me, I’ll take it. Oh, and this one too, please,” Dottie said, walking to the next aisle and picking up another VHS she’d had her eyes on for a while.

“Clue? Like the board game?”

“Exactly! I haven’t seen it yet, but Tim Curry is in it so it must be good.”

“Who’s Tim Curry again?”

“Did you ever end up seeing Rocky Horror?” he nodded so she continued. “He plays Dr. Frank-N-Furter, you know, the guy in the corset?”

“Ah, yes! Yeah, I remember him. It was, uhm, it was a really interesting movie! The music was very catchy,” Steve said, walking over to the counter to ring her up while he scratched his neck nervously. “You know, I’ve been talking with Robin about going to see some shows in Indy, she knows some cool spots and- and they might be showing stuff like Rocky Horror too! I mean, they seem like the kinda places that would show movies like that. You could come with us if you’d like, I know Rob would love that.”

Steve Harrington’s new self-appointed life purpose after striking out on so many dates for the past year, was to be Robin Buckley’s wingman. He was no longer interested in pursuing flings that always led to him on his own couch with his head on Robin’s lap and her hands on his hair while they watched some weird avant-garde movie she’d picked for the day. He was, quite frankly, tired of trying so hard for nothing, and he’d told her as much when he took her out for dinner on her graduation day.

In a so-sad-it’s-almost-comical turn of events, Steve’s big declaration had been forgotten rather quickly when Robin turned her head to call the waitress over and spotted Vickie, fellow band geek and current crush, making out with her college boyfriend, both of them tucked into one of the booths at the back of the restaurant. Steve tried to pick up the pieces of his best friend’s broken heart that night, her head on his lap on the floor of his bathroom for a change, but he simply hadn’t known how to make everything better at the time.

And so, it was during the next morning as he watched Robin snoozing in what was quickly becoming her side on his bed, her reddish-brown hair spilling over his fluffiest pillow, that he decided the only solution was to find Robin a new object of desire, one that would be emotionally available to reciprocate her feelings without fear of becoming the town pariah. In that scenario, who could be better than the short curly haired girl that already looked to be fond of his best friend, was seemingly unafraid of judgment since she already was friends with the freaks, and was about to move to a bigger city where small town sensibilities couldn’t reach either of them?

It was a flawless plan if you asked him. There was only one little problem in it, but Steve couldn’t be blamed for that - he didn’t have all relevant information yet.

“I’d love to go with you guys too!” Dottie said, excited at the prospect of new friends and fun adventures. “I’ve only been to Indy once so I don’t really know any cool places there or anything.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Steve laughed. “Rob’s been a few times with the school’s band though. They get around, did you know that?”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she chuckled, grabbing a few bills from her front pocket. “I have two questions. One, can I get the two movies and popcorn deal? And two, would it be okay if I invited a friend to join us on our big city adventures?”

“One, sweet or salty? Two, that depends,” he said mysteriously, moving over to the snacks display next to the cash register.

“Sweet, please,” she instructed. “Depends on what?”

“I don’t know, is your friend cute?”

“I think so, but I don’t really know your type,” Dottie said, glancing to the side as the front door opened and Eddie walked in, a big grin on his face. “Speak of the devil.”

“Harrington,” Eddie said, sliding next to her and bumping her shoulder like he wasn’t dying to throw an arm around his girlfriend.

“Munson,” Steve greeted him. “Wait, did you- is he the friend you were talking about?”

“You were talking about me with King Steve, princess?” Eddie raised his eyebrows, amused.

“Steve was inviting me to join some cool plans he has with Robin and I thought you might want to come too,” Dottie explained. “I think Dustin would be really happy if you two hung out. He looks up to you both so much.”

“He, uh… Henderson talks about me?” Steve said, surprised.

“Yeah, man, kid worships you,” Eddie scoffed.

“I asked him about you when I saw you at our graduation,” Dottie said, making both boys turn towards her. “He said you were his babysitter, but he thought of you as his older brother.”

“He did? That little shit,” Steve muttered, biting back a self-satisfied smile.

“Gotta talk Claudia into giving him a sibling, that kid’s lonely as hell,” Eddie joked, but his girlfriend didn’t seem to like it very much.

“You’re an only child, if anyone understands what that’s like, it should be you.”

“You’re an only child too,” he noted.

“We should make a club,” Steve said, bringing Dottie’s attention back to him while he put the bag of microwave popcorn and the movies she’d picked in a bag. “I’m also an only child.”

“Hey, sorry I couldn’t say hi earlier!” Robin interrupted their talk, dumping a bunch of VHS cases onto the counter. “Ring all of these up before she changes her mind,” she whispered to Steve, making all three teens snort.

“No worries, you looked pretty busy,” Dottie said, pulling her into a hug. “It’s so nice to see you, we’re kinda neighbors now!”

“Yeah- wait, what?”

“I got a summer job over at Giulia’s! Wanted to come say hi earlier in the week but they keep me on a leash while I’m getting trained.”

“No way!” Robin smiled. “Steve and I love their meatball sandwich!”

“No, you love their meatball sandwich.”

“You always eat the other half, why don’t you get something else if you don’t like it?”

“Because you hate the mortadella sandwich I like so I always let you get the one you want,” he deadpanned, while he finished scanning the stack of movies in front of him.

“Isn’t mortadella horse meat?” Eddie asked.

“No, it’s pork,” Dottie replied, well acquainted with the sandwich menu by then.

“Whatever it is, it’s disgusting,” Robin said, grabbing the bag Steve was offering to her and heading to where the older lady waited while she read the back cover for Cocoon. “Duty calls, have a good night you two.”

“Thanks, Buckley!” Eddie called, but she had already slipped her customer service smile back on to answer more of the old grandma’s questions.

“Well, you guys are done,” Steve said, bracing himself on the counter. “Unless you need anything else?”

“Nope, we’re good, Harrington, thanks,” the metalhead said, arm finally curling around his girlfriend’s waist and pulling her towards the front doors.

“Bye, Steve, see you around!” she said, waving at him over her boyfriend’s shoulder.

“I’ll drop by next week so we can make plans!” he replied, not letting her forget about his invite.

“Please do! Bye, Robin!” was the last thing Dottie could say before the door closed behind her.

Steve rested his head on his hand as he watched Robin wrap up with the older lady and her rambunctious grandchildren, herding all of them towards the exit lest they asked any more questions or shoved a new tape into her hands. As soon as they were gone, she walked back where he was standing and dropped her entire body weight onto the counter; Steve patted her hair as if to say “there, there”.

“So…,” he began.

“So?” Robin replied, voice muffled by her own arms.

“Am I a great wingman or what?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I asked Dorothy to come with us to Indianapolis. Thought she’d be into it. She said yes, by the way, you’re welcome.”

“You did what?! Steve, I’m not- if people knew-,” she began panicking.

No one in Hawkins could know about her best kept secret, which was exactly why Steve had offered to go with her to queer friendly spots in the big city of Indianapolis and act as her alibi should anyone ask. If anyone knew, if anyone found out, if Dottie wasn’t as cool with things like Robin was 99.9% sure she was… Well, it was safe to assume that Robin would be grabbing the bag hidden at the bottom of Steve’s closet and disappearing into the night, probably taking said boy with her.

“You said she was, y’know, like you! She likes Rocky Horror as much as you do, that has to mean something! And this is a perfect chance for you to get over stupid Vickie and her ugly boyfriend, come on, Rob.”

“You can’t just- ugh! You’re such a dingus!” Robin covered her face with her ringed fingers.

“What, what did I do? She seemed really excited about it when I asked!” Steve defended himself, hands on his hips. “She wanted to know if Munson could come too but he’s a freak, he’s probably into it anyway. I’ll distract him, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Oh my god, you’re just- she’s dating Munson, you idiot!” she said, exasperated.

“What? No, no way! She totally likes girls, you said so yourself.”

“People can like two things at the same time, Steve,” Robin explained in a deadpan tone.

“...They can?” Steve frowned, looking extremely confused as his friend loudly groaned and let her head drop back onto the counter, bracing herself for a long end of shift at Family Video.

Summer nights at the Munson trailer had never really been Eddie’s favorite (mainly due to the lack of air conditioning), but chilling on the couch after dinner with his pedestal fan turned on to its max speed, a funny movie playing on the TV, and his girlfriend tucked into his side, he had to admit he had reached a level of relaxation he didn’t entirely know was possible before that moment.

Wayne was sitting at the kitchen table while he laced his boots - the last step in his routine to get ready for work - and Eddie thought that the only thing that could make the night better was for his Uncle to not have to leave at all. Reluctantly, he contented himself with the knowledge that Wayne had decided to not attend his usual Friday-before-work union meeting to have dinner with them, the KFC bucket they’d all shared now crushed at the bottom of their trash can. The dishes were washed, Eddie had already showered, and Dottie had changed into her pajamas by the time Wayne finally said goodbye to the teens, warning them to behave and not piss off any neighbors with loud music like his nephew was known to do, especially on weekend nights.

Everything felt peaceful, perfectly cozy and comforting after a long week filled with new jobs and snappy customers. The sounds of Teen Wolf filled the air, the constant whirring of the fan and the cool breeze on his skin were lulling him into a dreamlike state. As the movie progressed and Dottie sank more and more into the couch cushions, his heavy arm draped around her shoulders, Eddie pulled her legs onto his lap where he drew patterns on her skin with his fingertips, brain completely turned off as he watched Michael J. Fox prance around a basketball court with fake fur all over his body. Had he been less comatose from the amount of fried chicken and mashed potatoes he’d consumed at dinnertime, maybe he’d have noticed sooner that his girlfriend was not enjoying the quiet moment as much as he was.

Dottie simply could not focus on the movie playing in front of them, head busy nervously anticipating the moment when Eddie would finally make a move on her. And yet, as the minutes ticked on and he looked exponentially engrossed in the story unfolding on his TV, it was looking very unlikely that he would try to do anything about the fact that they were going to be completely alone for the next ten hours. What’s happening? Did I scare him off? She felt like prey waiting for her predator to pounce, except he didn’t seem too concerned in chasing her in the first place. Eddie’s perfectly innocent behavior set all her alarms off - there was danger in the unknown, and Dottie didn’t like not knowing what to expect.

“You want another one?” Eddie’s voice startled her.

“Huh?”

“I’m gonna get another Coke, you want one too?” he shook the empty can in his hand to illustrate his point.

“Oh, no, thank you. Mine’s still pretty full,” she replied, pointing to her barely touched can on his coffee table next to her yet unopened bag of gummy bears.

“Be right back,” he muttered, pressing a noisy kiss to her hairline as he moved her legs from his lap back onto the couch and jogged towards his fridge.

They were more than half an hour into the movie and Dottie painfully realized that by this time, Tyler would have already had her topless on his bed. Back then, there had been many times where she had wanted to continue watching their chosen film instead of doing, well, that, but she had never mentioned it to him for fear of pissing him off. That’s what girlfriends and boyfriends did when they were alone after all, wasn’t it? Jeannie and Tracey had said it was normal when she asked them about it after the first time it had happened. Would Nancy agree with them? Would Chrissy, or Robin?

Eddie padded his way back to the couch, finally noticing that something was off. Dottie wasn’t watching the TV like he thought she had been all along - no, her head was turned towards the screen’s general area but her eyes weren’t focused on anything in particular, right hand restlessly playing with her Mom’s ring on her left middle finger. She jumped when he grabbed her ankle, sitting back down next to her and pulling her legs back onto his lap.

“Hey,” he whispered, lowering his head to look into her eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” she whispered back, settling against his side like she hadn’t recoiled when he’d touched her.

“You sure? I can see your brain working overtime.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just… thinking about next week, don’t worry about it. You’re missing the movie,” she lied quickly, hoping to throw his attention off her and back onto the screen.

“Fuck the movie. What’s next week?”

“Uh, your gig?” she chuckled. “We’re going to Indy on Friday, remember? You’re supposed to be driving us there.”

“Oh,” he said, surprised. “Yeah, no, of course I remember that but you… I mean, you looked like you wanted to throw up for a sec there. What’s wrong? You don’t wanna come?”

“What?! I got you that gig, of course I wanna go!” Dottie said, like he was insane for even suggesting she didn’t wanna be there.

“I’m just asking, darling, that’s all,” he squeezed her close. “You’re like, super tense right now, what’s going on?”

“I… I have nothing to wear,” she rolled her eyes, doubling down on her lie. “It’s silly, you don’t wanna hear about it.”

“Nope, no, none of that,” he shook his head. “If I’m asking, it’s because I wanna know. Hey, why don’t you ask Nancy to go shopping with you, huh?”

“I was kinda hoping I could borrow something from you, actually.”

“Yeah? You wanna raid my closet?” he smiled, smitten.

“Can I?”

“What’s mine is yours, princess,” Eddie said, nosing her hair. “You know I love it when you wear my clothes. How about I bring some stuff over for you on Friday when I pick you up and you can do my makeup like we talked about? Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect, Ed,” she smiled back, burrowing into his chest and pressing a kiss to the soft cotton. “Thank you.”

Even after she settled back next to him like nothing was wrong, Eddie knew that she had been lying. He could tell instantly, not only because he prided himself in knowing her like the back of his hand, but because he’d always found Dorothy Burke pretty easy to read. With her sitting so close next to him, he could pick up on all the little things he knew by now were signs of nervousness: the racing heart, the shallow breaths, the twitching fingers. Enough was enough, and Eddie decided that he’d confront her and get it over with, or else he’d never forgive himself for pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.

“Okay, Dot, come on, this-,” he sat up, pulling her up with him. “I can feel your fucking heartbeat. I know something’s up. Just tell me what it is so we can fix it, mhm?”

Dottie had never been one to ever shy away from Eddie’s affections; if anything, she had always given as good as she got. Hugs always lasted a little bit longer than they should, kisses were pressed to places that weren’t the apples of their cheeks, and wandering hands had never been stopped before, even before they’d begun dating. It was for that same reason that her reaction to him simply asking if anything was wrong scared him half to death, because he wasn’t used to her pulling away whenever he initiated physical contact. Eddie hadn’t even finished settling into his new sitting position when she moved further away from him, knees up in front of her like she was trying to put up a wall between them.

Eddie looked at her, really, truly looked at her for the first time all evening and immediately didn’t like what he saw. Her eyes were shifty and shiny, the lips he adored so much were turned into a sad looking pout, and her arms were wrapped around her legs like she was shielding herself from him. Had he read this entire situation wrong? She’d agreed to stay the night with him, even lied to her Dad about it. Had he come across as too eager? Too needy? Had he scared her off somehow?

“Baby, what- what happened? Did I do something wrong?” Eddie asked, searching her eyes with his as she moved her head down to avoid having to look at him. “D’you wanna go home? I- I can take you, you don’t have to stay-”

“Aren’t you gonna make a move on me?” she asked, voice timid but dejected.

“Huh?”

He swore she was fucking with him. She had to be. There was just no other way, because out of any combination of words that could have come out of her mouth at that moment, that exact sentence had never once crossed his mind. Dottie finally lifted her eyes to look at him upon hearing his confused reaction; he had never seen her so nervous and unsure of anything since the day met her. Suddenly, he was reminded of that shy girl that had padded her way into the props room all those months ago, terrified and vulnerable, yet brave in ways he hadn’t considered she could be at the time. Desperate for human connection, for someone to look at her and say hey, welcome, take a seat and don’t you dare leave. He had been trying so hard to go at her pace, to not rush her or make her feel pressured. Where had he failed?

“I’m sorry, could you- shit, say that again for me, please,” he said, dumbfounded.

“Are you going to make a move on me or not, Ed? It’s a simple question,” Dottie repeated, visibly upset.

“I- I wasn’t- Did you want me to or…?”

“No! I mean, yes, I- I don’t know,” she said, hunching over her knees, shoulders coming up in self-defense. “Isn’t that why I’m here? Because you wanna have sex?”

“Fuck, I’m-”, Eddie scrunched his face and moved closer, hands finding hers and tangling their fingers together. The tightness in his chest eased when she didn’t pull them back. “Baby, no. I invited you over because I wanted to spend time with you. Do you really think I would only ask you to come over so I can get laid?”

“Well, isn’t that what couples are supposed to do when they’re alone? Have sex?”

“When they want to, yeah, of course,” he moved his hand to her chin and lifted her face gently. “But that’s not why I asked you to spend the night, babe. Look, I know I’m selfish, okay? We had fun today with the guys, but I just wanted you all to myself for a while. Wanted to watch a movie and hold you like this, that’s all. No sex involved, I swear.”

“Oh,” she said with furrowed brows, and fell quiet for a moment. The movie kept playing in the background as she spoke up again. “I’ve never really done that before.”

“You’ve never watched a movie with your boyfriend before?” he pushed a curl behind her ear.

“No, I- I’ve done that, kinda. I’ve just never been to my boyfriend’s house when he’s alone and not had sex.”

“Oh,” it was Eddie’s turn to be surprised.

“It’s just that Tyler and I - we never hung out like that after we started dating. We always went out with other friends, and if I went to his house we’d, y’know, do it. I thought you wanted us to do that too.”

“Okay, wait, hold on,” he shook his head as if that could help him clear his mind. “You only went to his house to have sex? You never, like, chilled out with him? Watched a movie, played a board game, I don’t know, anything that wasn’t sex?”

“Jeannie said that’s, like, the only reason why guys invite you over-”

“Fuck Jeannie, she’s an idiot,” he argued. “Answer my question, darling. Did you ever go to his house and not have sex?”

“I… I don’t think so? It wasn’t a big deal, we just… he said we should take advantage of the empty house since we didn’t get to spend a lot of time alone.”

“Did you even want to take advantage of the empty house?”

“I dunno. Sometimes.”

“Dot.”

“It’s not like that!” she crossed her arms and looked away, feeling judged and embarrassed. “I didn’t enjoy it very much, okay? It was just a thing we did sometimes. He wasn’t, like, forcing me! I could always leave or not go if I didn’t want to.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie said in disbelief.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Dottie declared, getting up from the couch and collecting their discarded snacks from the coffee table.

“No, I really think we should,” he followed her into the kitchen.

“Why? So you can keep mocking me because I thought you wanted to have sex with me? It’s fine, Eddie, I made a mistake, I get it.”

“I’m not mocking you! I’m just trying to understand- can you please- fuckin’ hell, Dot, stop fucking cleaning my kitchen!”

Teen Wolf was still playing in the background as they stared at each other, knowing full well neither of them was going to back down. The wet rag on Dottie’s hand dripped water onto the linoleum, silence stretching between them. Eddie waited, and waited, his expression worried and desperate at the same time. Her lower lip quivered the more she looked into his earnest eyes. She felt so dumb and small. All day she’d been stressing herself out at the possibility of Eddie wanting to take their relationship to the next level and he hadn’t even thought about it. Wanted to watch a movie and hold you, he’d said.

Dottie had never really known what it was to desire intimacy until Eddie had waltzed right into her life, and the more she pondered on it, the more ashamed she felt. Wasn’t he supposed to want it more than she did? He was the man after all, that’s what guys did, right? What did it mean then, if she was ready for more and he wasn’t? Did he not want her at all? Wasn’t he as attracted to her as she was to him?

“Can we please forget I said anything?” she mumbled, more droplets of water hitting the floor as she unconsciously squeezed the rag in her fist.

“No, baby, we can’t,” he said softly, reaching to remove the wet cloth from her hands and guiding her towards the couch again one step at a time. “We really have to talk about this.”

“It’s so humiliating, Eddie, please,” Dottie pleaded. “You don’t want to do it, I get it. It’s okay, I shouldn’t have assumed-”

“Darling Dottie, baby, my love,” he put his hands on her shoulders dramatically. “You don’t want to know how much I actually want to have sex with you because I promise you it’s a lot, but we need to talk about this because I can’t have you thinking that the only reason I want to spend time with you is because there might be fucking involved.”

“I know that’s not the only thing, but-,” she began with burning cheeks, but he stopped her by pushing her onto the cushions again.

“No, no, no. No buts. We can finish the movie and go to sleep on opposite sides of the bed and I wouldn’t give a shit. Am I gonna jerk off in the bathroom when you’re out of here? Fuck yeah, you’re hot as shit, babe,” he said, pleased that even though she groaned and covered her face with her hands, she giggled at his crass words. “But I need you to understand that we don’t have to do anything we don’t feel like doing. Ever. I’m happy with this. I’m happy with you.”

“You really mean that?”

“Do you even know how much it means to me that you want to sleep in my bed with me?” Eddie said, his voice sounding constricted. “That no matter what happens, if we have sex or not, that you’re still gonna be there when I wake up?”

“Why wouldn’t I be there?” Dottie looked confused.

“Darling, come on,” he said, like it was obvious. “I’ve never been dating material. No one has ever been interested in doing that shit with me, at least not until you showed up. Look, if you want to do it, I’m all for it. I promise you, seeing you today at the lake in those cute little panties had me almost drowning myself. I’d be happy to do literally anything with you, but if you think we have to do it because I want it, then get that idea out of your head, okay? This is… this is new to me. No one has ever wanted me just for me and you say you do, so I’m going slow with you because I honestly don’t know what the fuck I’m doing and I don’t want to fuck this up,” he pulled her hands away from where they were tucked against her chest and kneaded her skin with his thumbs. “You mean too much to me to rush into things because I’m thinking with the wrong head.”

“Eddie,” she groaned, letting her head fall forward until it hit his collarbone.

“What?” he chuckled.

Dottie felt like shit. She couldn’t even pretend not to feel like shit, because that’s truly how she felt. Here was Eddie, sweet, loving, perfect Eddie battling his own demons and still putting her first, and all she could think about was how she’d basically cornered him and accused him of not making a move on her because he didn’t like her enough to have sex with her. He did like her, more than enough if he was to believed, and he yet he was still willing to wait because he didn’t want to fuck anything up.

Her heart broke for him as they sat on the couch, his head coming to rest on top of hers and his nails lightly scratching her back on top of her pjs. She put her arms around his waist and held him, horribly cognizant of how much love was stored in him, and how little he’d received from others throughout his entire life. The idea that anyone had taken Eddie to bed (or, most accurately, to the back of his van) and had made him feel disposable and unwanted was almost unthinkable to her. How could anyone leave him after seeing him at his most vulnerable? No, that was simply unacceptable, and Dottie knew she couldn’t let that notion fester in his brain anymore.

“I’m sorry,” she said, nuzzling his jaw. “I don’t really have a lot of experience on this and I thought you were just waiting until we were alone, and then when you didn’t even kiss me, I thought I’d done something wrong.”

“Wait, I haven’t kissed you since Wayne left?”

“You gave me a kiss on the cheek at lunch.”

“I haven’t kissed you all day?!” Eddie was appalled.

“It’s okay, we haven’t really been alone-”

“It’s not okay, we need to fix this,” he said, squishing her cheeks and planting a peck on her lips. “Can’t fucking believe-” he smooched her again. “-I haven’t-” Smooch. “-kissed this pretty face-”

“Eddie, stop!” she laughed, mirth in her face and in her voice.

“Prettiest- fucking- girl-,” he kept pressing wet kisses to every part of her face he could reach while she giggled and tried to squirm out of his reach. “Why are you running away from me, huh? Let me love you, come on!”

Time stopped when Dottie’s back hit the cushion she’d been sitting on, Eddie falling on top of her and barely managing to hold himself up in time so he wouldn’t hit her face with his big head. He let out a silly laugh, grateful for his quick reflexes or else they’d be dealing with a bloody nose, but he cut it short when he felt Dottie’s hand come up to push his unruly hair behind his ear. She was smiling, yes, but she was looking up at him with the kind of loving eyes he’d only ever seen in movies before he’d met her. Eyes he never thought one day could be looking at him.

The tension in the air was thick as she made herself comfortable between his arms, legs opening so he could hover over her like he’d done a few times by now whenever they kissed on her bed. Eddie was about to lean in to do just that when she moved her hand from his hair and brought it to the buttons at the front of her pajama set. As if transfixed, he saw her undo the first button, and then the second one, the dainty blue floral pattern giving way to skin covered by a pure white cotton bra with a thin lace trim. Her fingers were onto the third button when Eddie’s right hand covered hers, stopping her movements at once.

“W-what are you doing?” he said, searching her face for any signs of discomfort or unease. He found none.

“Can you help me take this off?” she said, with that characteristic tender determination he loved so much.

“We don’t have to. That’s not what I meant-”

“Just love me, Eddie. Please.”

“Darling, I-,” he was terrified. Completely and utterly terrified, his big doe eyes shining as he tried to find the words for what he was feeling.

“I’m gonna be here when you fall asleep, and I’ll still be here when you wake up. I promise,” she whispered, knees rising until they bracketed his hips, her hands moving to cup his face again.

“I love you,” Eddie said, letting his weight pull him down and into her embrace as he burrowed his head into her neck. “Fuck, I’m so in love with you.”

“I love you too, Ed.”

“Yeah? You do?”

“Mhm. So so much.”

“Okay,” he mumbled wetly.

He gave himself a few seconds to breathe in the moment and she let him, understanding that as much as this meant to her, it meant a whole lot to him too. After mentally patting himself on the back a couple of times, he rose back again onto his forearms and nodded once, like he was convincing himself that he wouldn’t ruin anything by charging forward. After all, it looked like she had been waiting for him at the next pit stop once more.

“Okay, we’re gonna do this, yeah? You ready?” he asked, mouth pulling into half a smile.

“Yeah. You might have to, like, have some patience with me. Because I want this, I swear I do, but I’m really nervous.”

“I’m nervous too,” he said, filled with easy excitement. “Let’s, uh, let’s get ready for bed first, okay? And we can see where it goes from there?”

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed.

There was palpable electricity around them as they collected themselves for the night. While Dottie was in the bathroom, Eddie took his time straightening the living room for when Wayne came home, not wanting a repeat from the awkward talk they’d had with him a few weeks back. He didn’t want to disappoint his old man; he really had taught him better than that. When she was done and it was his turn to brush his teeth, she waited for him right next to the light switch, and once he returned to her, they moved together hand in hand from the darkened area to his cozy bedroom, self-contained mess on every corner welcoming them further in.

“Do, uh,” Eddie said as he clicked his door closed. “Do you want the lights on or off?”

“Off, I think,” Dottie replied, chewing anxiously on her nail again. “But maybe we could open the curtain a little bit? I think that’d be good.”

Once the room was sufficiently shrouded in darkness and their eyes had adjusted to the pouring moonlight, Eddie suddenly remembered something of vital importance he had tucked away in one of his drawers. Dottie watched him from where she was sitting on the corner of his bed; he moved around old shirts and socks until he found what he had been looking for. Sheepishly, he turned to her and held a little blue box, almost identical to the one they’d thrown out when they’d cleaned his room all those months earlier.

“Figured this would come in handy one day,” he scratched his neck with a sorry grin on his face. “I promise I checked the expiry date on these before I got them.”

“Yeah, that’s, that’s kinda very important,” she laughed at how ridiculously bashful they were being. “Y-you wanna get in now?”

“Sure!”

Eddie threw the newly purchased box of condoms onto his bedside table to find later if he happened to need them and got under the covers, lifting them up for her to get in as well. They lay there for a few seconds, turned onto their sides so they could see each other but neither moved. Feeling very goofy because of how much they were tiptoeing around the whole thing, he reached out across the bed until his fingertips found her arm, gently pulling her closer.

“Come ‘ere,” he whispered, tucking her into his side like he’d done so many times before and was sure he’d do many more times in the future.

“I love you,” she said, between soft kisses.

“I love you,” he replied.

Summer nights at the Munson trailer had never been Eddie’s favorite, at least not until now. He didn’t care anymore about the climbing temperatures and the fact that they didn’t have a functioning aircon, he couldn’t find it in himself to give two shits about the way the neighbor’s dog barked all fucking night, and how the cicadas never stopped singing their song until the sun was out in the sky again. How could he, when there was a literal miracle happening right inside his own bedroom?

As the two lost teens found themselves in each other, a dream grew underneath their shared bed: flowers fed with love blossomed in the humble garden of an imaginary fixer-upper in a quiet, yet pleasantly quirky neighborhood. There was a dog basking in the sun in the backyard, and a swing in the front porch with hand-sewn cushions on it. And in the imaginary foyer of the imaginary house, on the imaginary entrance table right below the imaginary frames that held pictures of moments that hadn’t happened yet, sat a shared bowl of rusty keys from long forgotten padlocks that neither owner knew where they were anymore, the keys not belonging to one or other, but to both of them at the same time.

taglist: @munsonology @kurdtbean @every1lovesanunderdog @eg-dr3amer3 @oneforthemunny @munsons-queen

[kittenninja14]

Seen a lot of ppl who feel like commenting is lame and the author might be offended or whatnot.

Listen, comments are GREATT!! Small things like "I love this!" or "OH MY GOSHH THIS IS EPIC" or "great job!" actually helps

tbh i dont know why some authors don't reply to comment. But maybe they don't have the energy to reply? But whatever... whether or not the author replies... it still doesn't mean that the author doesn't see the comment. Quite the opposite actually...

tho i just want to make it clear... DO NOT ASK FOR UPDATES OF A CERTAIN FIC ON ANOTHER FIC DONE BY THE AUTHOR!!

i get the mindset. Ppl commenting asking for Fic A to be updated may look to see the author's dashboard to see if they're active or not. Sometimes u look to see that the author is working on Fic B.

It is NOT nice to ask the author to update Fic A on Fic B's comments...

in fact its quite discouraging ngl... (sadly speaking from experience)

But aside from that... comments are GREAT!! they're amazing!!! Please. Do comment. Please. Do tell me if there are mistakes. Please. Do ask questions about the fic. Please. Do say nice things!! It really helps!!!

But please keep in mind that not all authors want to be criticized... sometimes we are really in love and proud of a certain work and a comment like "I think you should have [insert here]" or you could have done this better" could be hurtful.

Try not to say something like "you should have done this..." or "i didn't like how you did this..."

REmember... its called a fanfic... its written from a fan... so it doesn't have to line up with canon. It doesn't have to match what you want it to be.

Every fan has their own interpretation... so respect that!!

But all of this aside... don't feel like your comment is cringe or not worth sharing... every comment is appreciated <333

https://kittenninja14.tumblr.com/post/731916269075480576/hey-yall-i-just-found-this-incredible-video-and

[confessionsofa-roleplayer]

Can I get some advice on roleplay partners?

I have a RP friend that I absolutely adore. They're amazing, we talk all day everyday but lately I've begun to notice that for the year I've known them they roleplay maybe....a week out of every month, IF that much. Sometime its less.

I've talked to them about it and they've admitted that their low self esteem amongst the dash is what's keeping them from writing. They fear that if they don't write or contribute at a certain pace that their friends will begin to hate them and leave.

The problem is that.....I want to leave. We began our friendship in RP and that's where MY passion is, but we don't really do any of that anymore and when we do it's a single reply a month and then they recoil and fear that I hate them for waiting so long.

I don't hate waiting, but their low self esteem is truly making me want to take a step back from this person because I can't keep building up their confidence just so they can function on the dashboard for two days.

They've previously expressed that they dread opening tumblr.

What can I do here? They're not a bad person. But I'm not really getting anything out of this friendship and all of the effort is one sided. Is there something I can say that will express to them that I'm not tired of waiting but I am tired of having to wait for them to pluck up the courage and write? Or should I just let them go because they clearly hate writing?

First and foremost, Anon - it doesn't sound to me like this person hates writing. They just have a TON of other issues and hang-ups. If you aren't already realizing this, I'll tell you plainly - you cannot fix this person's issues. And you shouldn't have to. Is it wrong to bolster your partners' confidence every now and then? Absolutely not. Everyone likes to hear they're appreciated sometimes, right? However, this person's levels of anxiety are a 'them' issue that they need to work on on their own. And if they're not willing to do that, then it is absolutely not on you to do it for them.

If I were in your situation, I think I would just accept that that's how they are and leave it at that. I don't think I'd ever drop someone I was talking 'all day everyday' with. Losing a friendship over lack of RP isn't something I'd want. (And I only talk like that with people I consider friends.) However, I think I'd just stop asking them about replies specifically. And I'd absolutely start focusing on writing with other people. I'd still reply when/if they bothered to post one, but I'd content myself with the fact that RP isn't the main thing linking us anymore. From there, I'd focus on the other things that we spend time talking about and not worry so much about the RP part.

Do our followers have other things they'd like to suggest?

~ Mod MJ ~

[namonaki-pharaoh]

With every day that goes by, the thought of giving up on her does cross my mind and it really pains me to admit this.

Normally I always follow my heart, even if it leads me through trials and tribulations. But it has been a good long while of being completely ghosted by her. I mean, she still keeps me on her discord, but I am starting to believe she has abandoned her discord account yet again and just created a new one at this point. I do message her on there but get no response and see no activity whatsoever…. I’m most likely just talking to myself on there…

Discord is the only place I can actually still message her on because I am blocked on here. But I am convinced that the account has been abandoned and I refuse to make another sock account on tumblr to message her with because I am emotionally and spiritually so broken and defeated, to the point where my heart is acting up…

Been having random heart palpitations and a recent sudden stabbing pain that goes from my chest up to my left shoulder every time I break down and cry — what I have been doing every night..

So I know for a fact that I no longer would be able to handle seeing her dashboard and all the tags she purposely weaponises against me because she knows they are working.

Not only are they working by crushing me emotionally, but just thinking about them is now starting to dangerously affecting me physically, and I can’t risk that for reasons I can’t mention here.

I really, genuinely, love this woman, alright? I’m sure whoever read my deleted posts would know by now just how much I love her. The tagging she did, and probably still does, is either maybe a game to her to punish me with, or it’s a flex to show me how she really never loved me, I dunno. I just know that they serve one purpose, and that is to hurt me. I won’t sit here playing the tough guy and say “pfff that shit she doesn’t affect me” because when it comes to love, I am not tough. Love is the only thing that I am extremely weak against, and she knows that. Her tag methods have always been working, that is why she has been weaponising it against me for soon 3 years. After enduring seeing them for that long, my heart is obviously physically reaching its limit — to the point where it’s getting dangerous and I need to be extremely careful what I subject it to..

I can handle a lot of things, and a lot of pain, but the stuff she puts in her tags are devastating to me, and hurt me more than anything she could have done to me — and she knows this……

that’s why she does it…

and I know she will continue to do so because she knows it’s working and destroying me. I have literally become afraid to create a new sock puppet account to DM her with because I am quite frankly terrified to be confronted with her dashboard and her reblogs…I just can’t handle them. She is not aware how much they actually damage me, unless she is aware and that is why she uses them, I do not know. All I know is that discord is the only place she kept me on…..for now

But all my messages on there are left unanswered, which leads me to believe she has abandoned that account like all the other accounts in the past…

I know some people who read this might think “well habibi if she is ghosting you and posting tags about how much she doesn’t love you, don’t you think you should get the hint and back the fuck off?” and for you who do think like this I get you, I hear you. I really don’t want to keep on trying if all it does is make me end up looking like a creep who doesn’t know how to get the hint and accept rejection. This is exactly why I am choosing not to spam her discord with messages anymore from now on. The last thing I want is for to add “creep” on to the list of names she already calls me already……

So yes, I do get the hint, and I will stop…..I promise it this time.

I love her so much, but there is no point trying if the feelings are just obviously not mutual anymore…

I accept it and I am painfully, and very reluctantly, closing the chapter…

[iznitlovely]

I posted 215 times in 2022

2 posts created (1%)

213 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@teathattast

@takperlukot

@goodstuffhappenedtoday

@happyheidi

@worldlyfalseness

I tagged 4 of my posts in 2022

#personal - 2 posts

#post birthday rant - 1 post

#this is typical izni - 1 post

#who even am i - 1 post

#all that you see of me is fake - 1 post

#i specifically made this personality for you - 1 post

#cant believe this is a universal phenomenon - 1 post

#i learned so much by reading lemony snickets works - 1 post

#why are all these taehyung gifs suddenly appearing on my dashboard? - 1 post

#im not complaining tho - 1 post

Longest Tag: 67 characters

#why are all these taehyung gifs suddenly appearing on my dashboard?

My Top Posts in 2022:

#2

the usual existential crisis following a birthday

I went home for a week and everything was great, life feels amazing and slow. The minute I came back and stepped into my bedroom in KL, I seem to have regressed and am currently at the same place I was before. It was like time have stopped or hit on pause and I'm just back to where I was. Damn. I have no desire to do anything. I just want to lie in bed.

I don't even know what is this. I don't think it's depression or anything serious. I still get my job done, I still eat and drink. I don't have suicidal thoughts or anything.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I am just starting to investigate and discover who I am. I am a mess. I thought I knew who I was but it was just a projection of who I wanted other people to see. A friend texted me happy birthday and said I was the most kindhearted person they know. All I could think was, "Really? Maybe it's just the person I want you to see". I kind of make up these different personalities for each person I see. Always wanted to be liked.

My sister said each of us has a Monica (from Friends) attribute to them. I have the people-pleaser gene. Ilham has the competitive-ness. Ikhlas has the attention to detail and tidiness. I can't help but think that it's so true.

Also, I did the Enneagram personality test. Got type 9. Let me tell you, I cried the whole time reading the description. Because it was so so true. I hate it so much, but it's so true. We are self-sabotagers. We will never be truthful to keep the 'peace'.

"Being a separate self, an individual who must assert herself against others, is terrifying to Nines."

0 notes - Posted March 31, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I am a hypocrite

Just like the title suggests, I realised I'm a hypocrite. Not really true, I think I've known all my life. I'm just finally admitting it.

Watched The Good Place recently and here's what I've learned. I am a bad person. My motivations are always flawed and not genuine. People who think I'm a good person, are wrong. I am just not a good person. I've never really shown my true self to anyone, except for my sister probably(?). Besides her, all I've ever shown anyone is the version I want them to think of me. It's all just a facade. I don't think I will ever find someone who I trust enough to show all the parts of me. That's part of the reason I have multiple tumblrs, twitters, and instagram accounts. I just needed to section my life like that. For god knows what reason.

The thing is, people can't handle the 'real' you. No, what they want is someone who adheres to the rules of society. Or to their version of perfection. I am a different person to my mom, my boss, my friends, or random strangers. I think I just adjust myself according to the person I'm talking to. Surprise! I'm not like that.

My 'people pleasing' disease is at its worst I guess. That's why I needed something to hide behind. Or else, people would just see the worst parts of me. And I don't want that.

0 notes - Posted March 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[nachoscheesy]

Tumblr Revival

Tl;dr

Tumblr has a large interconnected community of artists and content creators, and should focus on its strengths and what it does right. Instead of trying to compete for space against Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. Tumblr should focus on empowering its community and giving that community the tools to develop the site's unparalleled uniqueness.

Tumblr is the crossroads of the internet, with a monthly user traffic of 300 million it is the perfect space for artists, content creators, and small businesses to grow their following without having to fight for a seat at the table against companies with huge budgets.

Hi, I go by Nacho here on tumblr, and I'm sure as many of us on tumblr have noticed, the (hell)site is kinda going downhill. Tumblr was bought by Automattic in fall of 2019, and I am sure they have the best intentions to help tumblr stay afloat. However, I think it's time the community took a more deliberate approach to how tumblr is handled, and hopefully Automattic and @staff will hear us out. I think I have a solid solution to tumblrs money issues, that will help both the site and empower its online communities.

First and foremost, I am not involved with Tumblr or Automattic. I am just a simple blog trying to help out a place that I've been on since 2010, and I would hate to see it die here around 2023.

So, let's get to the root of the problem on tumblr right now. That being money, tumblr is currently costing more money that it produces, as we've seen with its 97% drop in value from 1.1 billion dollar sale to being sold at around 3 million dollars.

So the first thing that must be improved before anything else can be improved on tumblr is how much money they're bringing in a month. I don't think folks on tumblr hate monetization as much as we all collectively say we do, I think the issue is that most advertisers are completely disconnected from the groups they are trying to advertise to on here. Tumblr comprises roughly 65% millennials and 30% gen-z, the two generations that advertisers seem to have the hardest time advertising to for a myriad of reasons. The main one being that they don't fully understand what we want, and sometimes just don't listen to what we are saying.

Lets look at how tumblr makes its money, Tumblr has four main revenue sources,

Ads by sponsored posts

Display ads through video posts

Sponsored Day ads or banner ads

“Premium Themes”

I'll go into depth on all of these and how tumblr could make potential changes to improve their revenue anywhere from three to six months after it implements some or ideally all of these changes.

First tumblr ads and sponsored posts, these changes are going to be contingent on tumblr allowing its users to share, like, and comment on ads much like all other media sites currently allow. Or at least giving advertisers the ability to turn that on or off as a function.

The average tumblr post gets reblogged 14 times, that number increases significantly if the ad is engaging and actually caters to the communities wants and needs. My reasoning for giving users the ability to reblog ads is to increase user engagement while maintaining their current ad vetting process and all of the nonsensical ads that are run on tumblr 90% of the time.

The other reason for allowing tumblr users to share and comment on ads, or have it be an option for advertisers to turn on or off as they'd like, is that the appeal of tumblr is the ability to propagate and obsess over the most niche things (i.e OSHA.)

All the while allowing content that gets shared all over the internet bubble up to the top through the collective hand of the tumblr community. Along with this tumblr has no way for small users to share their own products or services, every single major site has a way for users to advertise their pages or products through the site.

Tumblr is a content machine that creates imagery and memes that get shared all the time across the internet, so the ability to share and curate its own ads is paramount to improving advertising and user engagement on tumblr.

My proposal here is for tumblr to expand its advertising capabilities to all users, while charging a flat rate fee to advertise on tumblr, with additional charges for popular tags or trending tags. Tumblr currently has no self service advertising system much like Facebook does for example. Where facebook charges a daily rate on cost-per-click(CPC) or cost-per-thousand(CPM)

Charging a flat rate fee at a rate of a day, week, month, or quarterly basis with variances in prices based on the lease term and what the advertisers would want to have their ads show up on certain tags. This would open up the doors for small businesses that don't want to advertise on places like facebook, twitter, or google with their complicated CPM and CPC models. Also bringing in more small locally owned businesses with the added value of less competition for ad space on tumblr.

This would also take some of the weight from tumblrs own advertising staff from having to explain a convoluted system to potential advertisers. Creating a simplified model with the the advent of tumblrs own infrastructure able to get a single post to a large variety of users. Where the current ad model uses a “shotgun” method to hit as many people as possible, the tumblr model could encourage advertisers to curate a more personalized and intimate experience that tumblr users would love.

Why not just advertise elsewhere? Tumblr still in fact gets over 300 million views a month as of June 2021 (Statosta), and the added benefit for users to be able to like, share, and interact with ads would allow ads that the community enjoys to be talked about more. Giving advertisers more honest feedback about their ads while increasing their SEO’s.

Also small businesses that can't compete with the vetting processes that are used on other sites, would have a better chance of developing their business and increasing their clientele on tumblr whose core demographics are approximately 60% millennial and 35% gen-z. This core demographic does in fact care about being able to shop at local stores, or even a store across the US that is trying to drum up its own online sales.

These ads could be placed inline on the tumblr dash while moving other sponsored ads to the right of the site on desktop, but making them alternate on mobile between user ads and sponsored ads.

Second, the display ads should be changed to allow tumblr users to share and further interact with ads to generate more user engagement, incentivizing more businesses and companies to build their brand status on tumblr. Tumblr has a good model for creating short diaries or daily vlogs for companies that wish to show off their products on social media. This includes smaller businesses and vlogers that want to post videos or tutorials of themselves on their blog.

Tumblr is a good site for user engagement with a pool of creative potential for anyone wanting to gauge the desire for a particular subject or piece of media, maybe even an upcoming show. Having the ability to share and comment on sponsored ads would also help advertisers by allowing them to get more bang for their buck with a considerable uptick on how users engage with that content.

Third, tumblrs sponsor day ads and banner ads are inexpensive and should be highlighted as a selling point over their competitors. Tumblr 24-hour banner ads are considerably more affordable for businesses when compared to places like twitter with their 200k price point. For the same amount of money on tumblr a business could have their company at the top of the dashboard or app for 8 whole days. Much longer and much better than the competition.

Keeping this price fixed, with a change in the price CPC is still a much more lucrative and attractive selling point than any of the competition on the internet today. I know this might not be exactly what tumblr wants to hear when it is hemorrhaging money right now, but let's look at the cost for these 24 hour daily ads and banner ads. If tumblr hypes up the price point on these ads they could see a significant rise in advertisers considering the lack of competition on tumblr and past success stories of companies who did advertise on tumblr.

At the same time larger advertisers should be encouraged to make engaging ads and blogs on tumblr that will make people want to actually go to their blogs, that then link to an external site or page. Not ads that instantly try to force you to go to some other site, by rewarding or offering special discounts for people who find a special code or something off of the actual blog. Or even for giving the same code to everyone who reblogs a certain post made by the advertiser.

Seems too good to be true? Look at “Asos” back in 2015 when they held a shirt design competition on their tumblr blog. Where they had 900 submissions, four of which were picked, and were sold out of the user generated shirts in 10 hours.

This is not the only case however, but FX ran their own campaign for the show “Man Seeking Woman” where they saw a 2.8% increase in user engagement, 86% increase in their tumblr followers, and they actually saved money through advertising on tumblr.

All this leads me to believe that tumblr actually was and continues to be the best place for brands, small businesses, and artists to develop themselves through genuine user engagement.

Finally, the “premium themes” that are available on tumblr that allow for unparalleled customizations that you hardly find elsewhere on the internet anymore. Tumblrs ability to take a variety of media sources, as well as having an unparalleled level of customization, user interconnectivity, and a vibrant artistic scene shows that it is ripe with potential.

Tumblr could still use its post+ feature, but in the same way that Discord uses its subscription service. For cosmetic changes that can be added modularly to the site or individual blogs for an additional monthly fee. In conjunction with partnering with community artists to bring small cosmetic additions to individual blogs, while paying the content creator and tumblr taking a small portion of the profits over a certain amount.

To be completely honest this is probably the hardest portion of this entire pitch to make changes to in a shorter period of time, considering all the testing and “under the hood” changes that must be made. However, I think that implementing this as well as the other changes I have proposed will bring back more foot traffic to tumblr as well as increase its revenue and profitability.

In closing, I am simply working with whatever information I was able to find online and a good amount of time invested on my part to do this. I think tumblr has a ton of potential still to return as a force for good for the communities that exist and want a change from what the internet has become. Time and time again when any company or public entity dies it was because it did not change and refused to adapt and innovate, oftentimes not at the hands of the people working everyday to keep the site running. Instead at the hands of people who dont see the value in what has fallen in their laps.

If you agree and think this is something that can be done, please reblog this post and follow me for more updates. If I don't hear back or this does not gain any traction by the end of the year, then tumblr can go to its inevitable end. I will be here sinking with the ship.

@support @engineering @music @wip @changes @photomatt

[egcdeath]

hook, line, and sinker

summary: steve was never meant to be anything more to you than a check, a basic mission. but somewhere along the way, things had veered from that.

pairing: steve rogers x spy!reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: angst, bad decisions, betrayal, unhappy ending

author's note: it has been a minute since i've posted a fic! i hope you enjoy :)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Despite the different rooms you found yourself in, the harsh morning sun was always the first thing you saw in the morning. Its bright rays would peek through the room’s shades and land right onto your face, intruding on some of the more vulnerable moments of your life.

When you finally angled your face away from the beaming star, your tired eyes fell upon the man next to you. The man you should’ve never taken things this far with. A man on the run, who you were sent after.

You sighed softly as you became a bit more conscious, and a now slightly more awake Steve threw a large arm around you, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“Don’t get up yet,” he mumbled softly against your ear. You nodded and relaxed further into the slightly stiff motel mattress, mentally snapshotting and framing this moment in time. Yet another to add in the five month scrapbook of your time with Steve. Time that you recognized was quickly running out.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes once more, to listen to Steve’s soft breaths as he inhaled the scent of you. It made your heart hurt knowing that within the next week you would no longer get to be in those arms. Knowing that you would have to wake up alone in a new apartment in a new country and wait for a new mission while the news on the television droned on about the nomadic Captain America being flushed out of hiding. That Steve was no more to you than a mission. That it was your fault that you had fallen so hard and so fast.

So you treasured it while you had it. Hummed contently as Steve massaged your side before peppering little kisses against your neck. Tried to absorb the stubborn tear that threatened to fall down your face at any moment.

“We have to leave today,” he whispered against your ear, sending goosebumps up your arm. “Natasha wants to meet you.”

Your eyes shot open and your brows momentarily furrowed, something you quickly attempted to play off with a wide smile. There was no way that she wouldn’t recognize who you were— despite being declared ‘dead’ years ago, you were one of the more esteemed spies in your community. What that also meant is that you had even less time with Steve than you’d expected.

“When are we leaving? Am I gonna have to get used to another time zone?”

“Probably a few. Nat’s already with Sam, but we heard there’s something weird going on in Scotland with Wanda and Vision.”

“Should I really be getting involved with this then? It sounds like some pretty intense Avenger business if the parts of the team you still communicate with are getting together. I can just stay here ‘till you guys are ready to come back.”

Steve gave you an ‘are you serious?’ look before breaking into soft laughter, “are you serious?” You nodded wordlessly in response. “Oh, you’re serious. I promise that you’ll be fine.”

“Well, things better not get weird,” you giggled right along with him, reaching out and grabbing Steve’s face so that you could look into his eyes. You took another mental picture of him. You just hoped it wouldn’t have to be the last.

——

After you prepared yourself for the long car ride ahead of you, you slipped your second burner phone out of the hidden pocket of your suitcase, you were met with several missed messages by the man who sent you on the mission in the first place.

What is the wait?

I was referred to you for a reason

Have you even found him yet?

I’m not paying for you to sit around and go to brunch all day.

Do I need to send more money for a plane ticket or something??

No, I’ve got it. He’ll be in custody by tonight.

He better be. Or else you won’t be around to see tomorrow.

You swallowed thickly. You wouldn’t be dealing with this in the first place if you weren’t so irresponsible. And if word got out that you were falling in love with your targets, your reputation would be in shambles. You should’ve known from the start that this could never end well.

Steve stepped back into the bedroom area, a goofy smile on his face at the sight of you sprawled out on your back on top of the dingy motel bed. “You ready?” he asked, sounding chipper. You assumed he was ecstatic that you were finally going to be able to meet his friends, which made your heart hurt even more.

For a moment you considered the possibility of not going through with it. Of going along with Steve, work, prestige, and that hefty bounty be damned. You would still be living life on the run, but you’d have Steve, and everyone else on his side on your side too. You’d have some semblance of a family, and maybe someday you’d have a real family and someone to grow old with.

You chastised yourself for getting soft before sitting up, “I’m ready.”

——

You weren’t ready.

You knew you had to move quickly, the sun was going down, and you’d made a promise that needed to be fulfilled, or god knew what would happen to you.

You reached for the volume dial on the radio portion of the car, and turned down the song that Steve was currently humming along to.

“We should probably get off on the next exit that has a gas station,” you prompted, “the tank’s getting pretty low.”

Steve’s eyes flicked down to the dashboard and he nodded in agreement, “you’re right. Good catch.”

Steve pulled the car off and drove you to the nearest gas station, humming pleasantly along to the music once again. Your stomach was twisting and untwisting knots with every foot you got closer to the station, knowing exactly what you would have to do once you arrived.

Somehow, this was the most nerve wracking moment of your career. Not infiltrating secret government operations, not pulling the trigger on a mark, not even seeing the message from Tony Stark asking for you to find a way to bring Steve in.

You hurried into the main building of the station, making up an excuse on the spot to go inside. You made your way into a bathroom stall, and slipped the phone you hid away earlier out of the extra pocket in your pants.

Your hands shook as you dialed the first two numbers. You took one last deep breath as your finger hovered over the final number. You had one last chance to change your mind, to go back out to the car like nothing had happened because nothing had happened. You would drive a little longer before staying in another shitty hotel, and think about how you made the right decision as you curled up next to Steve’s warm body.

But you couldn’t. You were given this mission, and you needed to complete it.

You pressed the last nine, immediately connecting with an emergency service operator. You gave them the tip that you had seen Steve Rogers pumping gas into a black Honda Civic, and provided them with your location. With every word, your voice trembled a little more. You were grateful for your proximity to a toilet, as the lump inside of your throat threatened to force the contents of your stomach up with every passing moment.

You hung up the phone and looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You could barely recognize yourself now, and you weren’t sure if that was from the flagrant betrayal of your partner, or the undermining of your own personal rules for the past five months of your life.

After reflecting on what you’d done for a few minutes, you made your way back to the car. You sat down in the passenger seat, lip trembling as you thought about Steve, and the fact that you’d laid a trap for someone you had such strong feelings for.

Steve sat down just a few minutes later, a smile on his face, and snacks from the gas station in his arms. As he passed you a water bottle, he couldn’t help but notice the tears slipping down your face.

“Hey, what‘s wrong? Are you alright?” he asked, dropping the rest of the items on his lap and leaning over the middle console to console you.

You began to full-on sob now, each tremble of your body filled with regret. “I’m sorry, Steve. I am so sorry,” you repeated.

“No, no, you’re okay. What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning as he wiped your tears away with his thumb.

“I- I had no other choice,” you wailed, “I’m sorry.���

His brows creased and he pulled away from you, betrayal evident in his features, “oh.”

You swallowed hard and shook your head.

“So this was the plan all along?” he questioned. Your lack of response seemed to answer the question for him. “Was any of this real?”

“All of it was, Steve,” you all but whimpered out.

He sighed deeply and leaned his head against the headrest, eyes squeezed shut. He seemed to be searching for the words, but couldn’t quite put together what he truly wanted to say. It was silent in the car for a moment, aside from your quiet sniffles.

“I loved you,” he finally said, hurt evident in his delivery. The admission shook you to your core. You almost couldn’t believe that the first time you were hearing it was after you had put him into such a terrible situation. After you turned in someone that you cared about for your own gain.

“I know,” you looked away from Steve in shame, the look of hurt on his face now permanently imprinted in your mind.

The sound of sirens began to fill the air. Not too long after, you noticed the unmissable blue and red of emergency vehicles approaching your own. It was time.

You unlocked your door and exited without another word. You refused to look back to the car, keeping your head down and your eyes squeezed shut, knowing that if you had to see Steve being taken away, you might never get over the permanent sick feeling you were currently in the midst of.

You walked right inside of the building, stopping in front of an aisle of chargers and finally looking back at the mess that you had made.

“What’s going on out there?” the clerk asked from behind the counter, peeking out the large glass windows.

“I don’t know,” you feigned ignorance and casually shrugged, ignoring the fact that the sight of about a dozen police and SWAT vehicles was tearing you up inside. What were they going to do to him?

You turned away from the scene once again, pretending to browse through the low quality electronics next to you. You heard some yelling, a bit of a struggle, then it was all over.

The coast was clear. Your mission was over.

You left the store without purchasing anything. You moved sluggishly as you got back inside of the now abandoned vehicle.

You started the car once again. This time without the radio playing overplayed pop songs, and without Steve happily humming along. You stared blankly ahead of you, feeling numb above anything else. Steve's words resonated in your mind, bouncing around in your head as you attempted to make sense of what you just did.

Guilt was beginning to creep up on you in a way that you’d never experienced before. You immediately felt haunted by the ghosts of your memories with Steve. Of every entry in your mental scrapbook, of the final image of the hurt on Steve’s face as he confessed his true feelings for you. Of all, you were left with one terrifying thought.

You loved him too.

[migilini]

Roadtrip - Charlie Gillespie

a/n: just a daydream I had when I saw this GIF. It’s not proofread. I’m open to requests.

Words: 2k

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You and Charlie were on a road trip from LA to Oklahoma and last to Chigaco. Your boyfriend had to move there due to the fact that he got cast in a movie and you were fortunate enough to move with him, being able to work from home. It wasn't your idea to drive all those miles via car, but Charlie doesn't like flying so he avoided it at all cost and because you love him, you accompanied him for those dreadful hours.

It was way too early for your liking, of course Charlie knew that and put up with your grumpy, nontalkative mood, simply shoving a large cup of coffee into your hands. “Ma cœur, how much longer until you're more awake to talk to me?” Charlie asked after a while, as he glanced over to you on the passenger side, his free hand tracing little hearts on your thigh. You yawned and took a sip of the now lukewarm coffee. “About this much.” You measured the amount still in the cup, making him chuckle.

You and Charlie have been dating for nearly one and a half years now, however it feels like it's been much longer. From the start, the two of you were attached at the hip, instantly comfortable around each other. Everybody said that you two moved too fast because you moved in with each other after only three months of dating, but because of Covid you didn't want to risk being apart. Even though objectively speaking, you and Charlie were not the same, you were more daydreaming than actually paying attention and you didn't need the adrenaline in your life, you completed him in a magical way.

Right now you two were two hours in, the coffee was empty and you ass already sore from all the sitting. It was something you always despided about yourself, you could spend all day laying in bed, but you couldn't sit still, changing position every now and then. Tapping your foot to the beat of the song streaming from the radio. Charlie calmly hummed along to the song, his fingers also tapping along. You looked over at him and couldn't love him more.

“Are you excited to see Owen and Jer?” You asked him, breaking the silence. A breathtaking smile overtook his face “You know it! How about you?” You nodded, also excited to see the boys again. “Mhm. I missed them a lot.” The song on the radio changed and you huffed in annoyance, you hated that song. Sensing that, Charlie took out his phone and connected it to the car.

“Charlie! Don't drive and be on your phone!” You snapped it out of his hand, giving him a displeased look. Scrolling through Spotify you eventually choose a song to your liking. 18 by OneDirection blared through the speakers, while you put the volume higher you turned in your seat. “I have loved you since we were 18. Well technically 20 but that's a detail.” You whispered the last part. He scrunched his nose in amusement, a quirk you loved dearly.

The two of you screamed lyrics at the top of your lungs, the car driving on an empty highway. The rest of the world fading away, leaving the two of you in a cozy little bubble of your own. The day continued just like that, the two of you singing to songs and just enjoying the company. You loved seeing him drive, something about it was just so attractive to you, maybe it was the way his arms flexed when he moved the wheel, or the fact that you yourself were unable to drive. Even with your 21 years of life, you refused to sit behind the steering wheel and Charlie had tried several times, it always ended with you in tears.

“Do you want to stop somewhere to sleep? It's getting kinda late and you have been driving the whole day.” you questioned, looking at the horizon as the last beams of yellow and red vanished slowly. “Yes please. Can you search for a hotel around here?” Nodding, you took his phone and went onto google maps.

“There's one about two hours away in New Mexico. Reviews look good and the price isn't too high. Sadly no breakfast included, so we're gonna get you something on the road, not gonna let you starve, otherwise I will be stranded here.” He gave your thigh a playful slap and a squeeze “Yeah, yeah love you too, Char. I will look it up… Ah perfect! There's a Dunkin Donuts five miles from the hotel. Does that sound good babe?” He hummed in approval.

“Ah a man of words!” he took one of your hands and gave it a light kiss. “You know me. I always wanted to be a Mime.” he joked.

Before you knew it, the car came to a stop in the pitch black. Only a little yellow neon sign lighting up the hotel parking spot.

“This looks like this one Teen Wolf episode…” you murmured, not feeling the best about this place. “You’re just saying that because you're scared of the dark ma cœur. I'm here to protect you. No Monsters are harming you tonight.” he teased, getting out of the car. In typical Charlie fashion, he walked around the car and opened your door and held out a hand for you, immediately intertwining your fingers. 

You smiled up at him, squeezing his hand. “Ha ha…”

The two of you were happy to finally walk off the stiffness of your legs, as you walked over to the reception. 

“Hello. We would have a room please.”

The receptionist was in his late 30s, his greying hair falling messily in his eyes and a big smile sat on his thin lips. “No Problem. Is a king bed alright with the two of you?” he didn't want to assume anything. You and Charlie chuckled, nodding slightly “Preferred actually.”

Five minutes later, you waited in the room 345 while Charlie insisted on getting your bags. Stretching, you tried to get rid of the soreness in your back, your eyes nearly falling shut.

Charlie opened the doors, giving you a tired smile. “Let's get to bed. Tomorrow we rise early!” you groaned, making him chuckle. Standing up, you walked over to him, your arms wrapping around his familiar frame. He was stroking your head, giving it a kiss before walking into the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

In the meanwhile you changed your clothes, changing from some jeans and one of his hoodies to sweatpants and an oversized shirt. 

You gave him a hasty kiss as he came out of the bathroom, smelling the mint of the toothpaste still lingering on his lips. After you washed your face and brushed your teeth, you let yourself fall into the bed. His arms sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer into him. 

“Thank you.” Turning around to face him, you traced his features with your fingertips “For what?”

“Coming on this drive with me. You could have easily convinced me to fly, you know.”

“I know mon amour.” you said, looking into his eyes, as you tried your best to keep yours open. You left several kisses on his bare shoulders until your lips met his. He smiled into the kiss and then nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, pecking it several times before stopping.

“Good night. I love you.”

“Good night babe. Love you more.”

The next morning came way too fast and you didn't want to move out of his comfortable and safe arms into the cold car, but you had to. The sunrise hadn't even begun, the sky still a dark blue, when the two of you drove into the Dunkin drive through, to get you a coffee and a donut. You had to have something sweet in the mornings.

“Actually, I saw a little restaurant on the way here that should have takeaway, do you mind if we take a quick stop?” you shook your head, trying hard not to fall asleep again. An idea ignited in your head and you sat up straighter. “What if we go live while you drive? Maybe I'll be more awake or I'll have stuff to read.” you requested, looking at your boyfriend with a slight pout.

“Sure thing. I'll bet they'll love it.” Smiling, you grabbed his phone from his hand and went into Instagram.

“Hey Char and y/n here.” you introduced while trying to balance the phone on the dashboard “Its freaking early and I’m nearly falling asleep so I thought you guys could entertain me a bit. Mister Gillespie over here isn't as interesting as you guys.” he pouted into the camera, you leaned forward quickly and gave him a kiss on the cheek. The chat was already flooding with hey’s and questions about your relationship and where you were going.

“Is it true that you sometimes talk french to Charlie?” you read from the chat, your eyes widening a little in surprise. 

“Sometimes. I mean my french isn't the best but growing up in Europe, I picked up some stuff.”

“She’s just being humble, she understands a lot and her accent is hella cute.” Charlie piped in, pulling into the drive through he mentioned earlier. “Je vois que tu comprends." He said to you, a slight smile playing on his lips. You got lost in his eyes for a second before responding. “Of course I understand babe!” he grabbed your hand and kissed it softly while chuckling. 

“OMG that was just so cute!” you read out loud from the chat. Blushing slightly, you giggled, “He loves to do stuff like that when he’s driving. Always showing affection in one way or the other.”

“Uhm next question...What are you two doing so early? Someone asks.” with an raised eyebrow you look over to your boyfriend “I think you can answer this.” you turned the camera a bit so he was more in frame. “We're going to Chicoago, Chigacoooo.” he quoted the iconic Victorious scene, his eyes scanning the road before him.

He got himself a cheese thing of some sort, you couldn't quite make out what it was and parked on the side of the road, getting his food ready in front of him.

He bit into his cheese thing while you sipped on your coffee conversing with the chat. Just earlier you had begged for music suggestions, telling them to send their best road trip songs. Charlie looked really good right now, his hair was pulled together in a bun and he was wearing a blue shirt. You on the other hand had your hair in a top bun and the same hoodie from yesterday, a wool blanket draped over your shoulders. You just wanted to ask if you could have a bite, when he got cheese all over his chin. 

He laughed as he looked over to you. Before you knew what you were doing, you leaned forward in your seat. Your face mere inches away from his, you could feel his breath on your face. You stuck out your tongue and licked the cheese away, your eyes never leaving his. 

Without giving it a second thought, you settled back into a comfortable position and took a sip from your coffee with a prominent smirk on your face. Leaving a dumbfounded Charlie and a screaming chat.

Not even an hour later the clip of you licking his chin, in maybe a bit of a too sexual way, went viral in the community.

[chipper-asks]

Any tips on how to grow your own blog by chance?

Aah man I've written a response to this kind of question many times but I always delete it because I'm afraid of coming off as self centered or arrogant, but I definitely have some tips on what works and doesn't work (on tumblr.)

I will say that I never believed I would get to the "Big Fandom Artist" stage. I've seen people drop my name in conversations or descriptions and just assume other people know who I am and that's still incredibly wild to me. I never really pushed to get a big blog it really just happened.

But! I do have rules and personal guidelines that might help if you are thinking of actively building your blog!

1: Keep personal information and vent posts to a minimum

It should go without saying that its not a good thing for your personal information to be on the internet. Once its out there its near impossible to erase. This is for your own safety.

Vent posts give out more information than you might think, but also some people who are following you may be going through difficult times themselves. I go on the internet to get away from my stressors and problems and i've specifically catered my dashboard to reflect my desires. I have no doubt others are the same.

I've unfollowed mutuals because they vented too frequently. I enjoyed what they made! But it stressed me out to read their vent posts because I couldn't help. I realized it was taking a toll on my mental health and I made the tough decision to unfollow.

It is very tempting to vagueblog because its nice getting out all the angry feelings, but a blog with thousands of people following it is not the place to do it.

2: Shitpost vs Quality Foley

I could go into a massive essay on this alone (ive even written out an outline already) but i'll keep it as brief as I can.

Throughout my time on Tumblr I’ve seen a number of posts of artists complaining about the lack of notes on their serious work compared to the abundance of notes on their shitposts.

This is because Tumblr IS a place of shitposts. It's like squeezing a clown nose and expecting it not to honk.

However! It's more complicated than that and i've broken it up into four parts organized by importance.

A. Relevance/Meta: Is it something that people are already familiar with? Is it something that's currently going on?

People want to enjoy things they're already familiar with. For example, people getting into Hollow Knight are more likely to follow a blog that posts HK content regularly over a HK blog that posted a picture of Grimm once and then is full of original content. It's not that people don't like your original stuff, its just not what they're looking for.

If you like striking while the iron is hot, meta jokes are the way to go. Making references to games like Among Us during the height of its popularity for example would get you lots of notes.

B. Hilarity

Is it funny? Does it subvert expectations?

Shitposts will always be more popular than a well drawn post. People like to laugh and share things that laugh. A cool, well drawn post is more often than not met with a "hm, cool. scrolls down."

This is a polished comic I made 10 months ago. I'm very proud of it and i'm pleased with the amount of attention it got. It took me 2 days to finish.

This is a shitpost I made 3 years ago that I still haven't been able to top. It took me 30 minutes to make.

That's not to say a well drawn post can get popular! It's just that people enjoy a good laugh over something shiny. This is a factor of knowing your audience. Some things land better than others and you'll be better off if you just roll with what you get.

I will say tho I appreciate the people who reblog my oc posts 200x more than people who reblog my shitposts and fanart. Those are quality followers and you must cherish them.

C. Appeal

Is it cute? Is it fluffy? Is the design easy to understand? Does it make people emotional? Is it angsty? Is it relatable?

People like cute shit. People like things that make them hurt (albeit not too much). People like things that they can see themselves in.

D. Skill

There is some merit in being good at what you do. People do like funny things more than shiny things, but shiny things are cool too.

If you post things that are funny? You're normal horoscopes.

If you post things that are well drawn? (its really telling that I can't think of someone right off the top of my head)

If you post things that are funny AND well drawn? Well then you're iguanamouth

3: Know your boundaries.

There's a difference between being understanding/tagging things correctly and catering to people who want you to be someone else.

I know that many people get upset with others who gender the vessels in Hollow Knight. While it doesn't bother me, I can recognize the misgendering of vessels as a source of dysphoria and I tag accordingly.

If someone comes into my inbox and tells me to stop drawing a character because they're "problematic," I'm just going to block them and go about my day.

4: This is your blog, its your rules.

I'm apologetically myself on my blog. I post what I want and what inspires me. The reason why I have so many AUs is because its my blog and I like AUs. If a large portion of the fandom doesn't like my AUs, its their loss, I make great AUs.

In fact, its just a good mindset in general to have. If some people don't like what you make, its not your problem. It makes you happy and it makes hundreds of others happy then continue to do what you do. It's impossible to have a large following and not have someone who dislikes you purely out of spite.

Make stuff for yourself, not because you want numbers.

5: Don't feed the trolls.

If someone sends you hate, take a picture of it, share it with your friends, laugh, block the person, delete message, move on with your life.

It's really fun to feed the trolls, but feeding trolls attracts more trolls and soon its not fun anymore. Just laugh when you get your first anon hate, maybe frame it in your room, and don't even acknowledge them with a "fuck you."

6: Recognize your position.

This is more advice for when you do get a big blog. You get to a point when you realize you have a portion of your audience who value much more than a regular human being and are willing to take up arms for you.

Do. Not. Weaponize. Your audience.

It's incredibly shitty and can ruin peoples lives.

7: Post Frequency/Schedule

Now this is one I can't do. It's normal for me to become incredibly active for 2 weeks and then end up posting nothing for a month. I don't have the patience to build up a queue of new things.

However! If you have more discipline than me, posting daily or twice a week builds up anticipation for your next post. You're dependable and people have the chance to look forward to seeing something from you on their dash on Friday.

Thats all I can think of so far.

There's no TL;DR you'll miss my important advice within these tips.

[djarinbarnes]

me olvidarás - three

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Pairings: Javier Peña x female reader

Warnings for the chapter: charming javi. (again, yes he needs his own warning) kissing. dry humping. fingering. flirting. again, doubtful javi. talk about sex. a little angst. but a lot of fluff.

Word count: 6.2k

Summary: an undeniable warm summer vacation in Bogotá. simply trying to get away from your nosey, boring parents and live for once, you meet a man who impresses you beyond where your imagination could ever take you.

a/n: more slowburn, yet a little action. 😏

previous chapter · series masterlist

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The hours that pass after that are excruciatingly long, and you find yourself bored out of your mind. You have a small garden that connects your parents’ rented apartment to yours, and that’s where you spend the most of your hours.

Your trusty, worn-out copy of Jane Eyre is in your hands, and you’re nearing the halfway mark again. With sunglasses resting on your nose, you can get away with occasionally dozing off, your parents probably not even having noticed you weren’t at home all night.

Under the stinging rays of the sun you lay, finding comfort in your book as you miss Javi. Missing a stranger. How pathetic, you think to yourself and mentally condemn yourself to hell for 1. Falling in love with a devilishly handsome stranger that 2. Is pushing 40.

You can’t believe you let it come to this, no matter how good it felt. Somehow, with Javi, it felt right. You couldn’t explain why, but there was just something about his aura that captivated you and held you prisoner.

You knew you wanted to know more about him. You wanted to know everything. You wanted to feel him, all of him. And you knew now, that Javi was the one you were losing your virginity to, no matter what it took you.

Now, some may say that losing your virginity to a stranger you’ve met on some vacation is one of the stupidest things you could do, but right now you didn’t really care. You couldn’t care less about what other people thought of what was right and wrong, because you knew this felt right for you.

You reach over and take the soda by your side, sipping the sugary beverage into your mouth through the straw. You sigh and put the soda back on the table, the book following it. You lean back and let your skin soak up the rays of uv you so desperately need.

You don’t know how long you’re asleep for, but you’re startled awake by banging on your front door. You quickly sit up and gather yourself, before pulling your robe around your body, the flimsy material barely covering your skin.

You open the front door reluctantly, not really sure if you’re awaiting a visit from someone. Your head is cloudy from falling asleep in the sun, and you mentally cheer at the fact that you’re not sunburnt.

In front of you stands Javi, a tidy bouquet in hand. Your lips tug into a wide smile as you swiftly pull the sunglasses off your face, watching as Javi gulps at your undressed state. Bikini and a robe - he didn’t expect you to open your door like this. He really didn’t… And yet there you were. Even more beautiful than this morning.

You watch as he extends the hand with the bouquet towards you. He’s bought you roses. It’s your first ever bouquet of flowers, and they’re bigger than any roses you’ve ever seen before. Red, voluminous and just downright beautiful.

“I saw these and thought of you.” He says, and if you’re not mistaken there’s a slight blush littering his cheeks. You couldn’t have seen that right. Maybe he was just shocked that you weren’t really dressed.

“Oh my god, Javi they’re absolutely breathtaking!” You take them from his hands and bring them to your nose, inhaling the sweet scent of the flowers. “Thank you so much.” You lean forward and place a kiss on his cheek before you turn on your heel.

“Come on in. I have no idea if vases exist in these apartments, otherwise I guess a glass will do…” you say as you rummage through the different cabinets in the kitchen, before making your way through the sparse living room before finally coming up with something that you figured was supposed to be a vase.

You watch him through your lashes as he takes uneasy steps around your apartment, looking at every little painting on the walls and books forgotten in the unsubstantial shelf, supposedly a bookcase. You set the roses in the filled vase on the small table in the middle of the apartment, before peeling your robe off your shoulders and placing it on one the chairs, before you make your way into your bedroom to change into something more comfortable.

You knew Javi watched you as you basically stripped in front of him, but you wanted to tease him. You were hoping that he would give in and possibly sleep with you if you teased him enough. He was a man, after all. And men had desires, after all.

You found a flowy summer dress, forgoing a bra since it was already a little tight around your bust. You swiped on a coat of mascara, mentally cursing yourself to the devil when you accidentally hit the bridge of your nose with the wand.

Understandably though, since your hands were shaking. You hadn’t even noticed before now. You quickly get rid of the black mark before you gather your lip balm from your bag, bringing it along with you this time if you were lucky enough to place more kisses upon the man in the living room.

His eyes followed you as you walked out of your bedroom and over to your handbag, putting the small container into the bag. You drape it over your shoulder and turn to him with a smile.

“Alright. I’m ready to see Bogotá through the eyes of you.” You walk up to him and he swiftly pulls you in for a determined kiss. Your arms automatically wrap around his next as you deepen the kiss slightly, pushing your body against his to have him closer.

His tongue glides over your bottom lip again, taking you back to the night before. You feel your heart pick up the pace at the thought. His hands are on your waist, drawing you impossibly closer. You feel the heat radiating off his body, and you figure it’s from the scorching heat of the Colombian afternoon sun. Maybe mixed with a little bit of desire. Hopefully a little bit of desire.

You whimper against his lips as his hands tighten on your hips, his fingers digging slightly painfully into your muscles. It’s a good kind of painful, though. It lights your nerve endings on fire, just like his touch did yesterday. There’s an urgency in the way he’s kissing you, almost like he was craving you as much you were craving him.

His hands are rough as they slide up your sides, swiftly coming around your upper arms to hold you out in front of him, your lips still perked as if he was kissing you, the swift breakage of your intimate moment making your erratically beating heart thud uncomfortably in your chest.

“We need to go. I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off of you if we do this much longer.” He breathes, and you can easily see the conflicting feelings battling away behind his hooded eyes. You lean into him again, forcing yourself out of his grip to place another kiss on his lips.

“I don’t want you to hold back.” You whisper against his lips, before you pull away and make your way to the door leading out to the small garden between your parents’ apartment and yours, which hadn’t been fully closed. “But we can do that later. Don’t need my parents to see anything,” you cast a smirk back in his direction, before sliding it open fully, walking over a small patio to locate your parents.

“Mom, dad, I’m going out. I won’t be home for dinner, alright?” you smile when you find them. Your dad is asleep in the shade of a balcony extending over the garden. Your mom is reading her usual magazine, and you know she’s deeply invested in whatever Doctor-Sexy novel that’s found its way into the magazine this time when she doesn’t protest.

Normally they would be against you going out alone in a city you barely knew, but you had spent most of the day yesterday checking out the city after your arrival, where normal people would’ve probably been tired after a flight like that.

But you weren’t - quite the contrary though. You had been full of energy and determination as you’d dressed yourself in your most comfortable hiking shoes that you’d packed with the knowledge that Bogotá was located on the high plateau of the Andes.

You loved exploring - a lot. In the span of a few hours, you’d found more than enough small taverns, shops and restaurants you wanted to visit in the three weeks you were staying in Bogotá. When the sun had gotten too warm and the air too humid, you’d gone home, taken a shower and changed clothes - and you know what happened then. Something with a handsome stranger.

You had no idea where Javi was taking you, and it almost felt too good to be true. It felt like a literal fairytale, being swept off your feet by a handsome, older stranger who brought you flowers and complimented you on your looks, even though you barely knew one another.

Maybe it was the Colombian custom, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. It was a whole new world for you, to actually feel interest from the opposite sex - well, not exactly new, but the whole reciprocation of feelings that you were sure was there.

He even opened the door for you, watching you as you slid into the passenger’s seat of his car. He’s quickly on the other side of the car, seating himself in the driver’s seat. When the car roars to life, the sound of the engine finally manages to drown out the sound of your heart beating in your chest. You admire him as he pushes the sunglasses resting on his dashboard onto his nose.

It was so exciting and scary at the same time, going out with Javi in a city you barely knew. You hoped that he would show you something extraordinary, but you literally had no idea what he had planned for the two of you. You watched the small apartments slowly turn into nothing else but landscape, and it dawned on you that he was taking you out of the city.

“Okay, so I guess I’m not going to see Bogotá today, huh?” you tease as you turn your body toward him. You watch as his lips tug into a smile as he casts a look at your bared legs, the soft swell of your chest under the flower-patterned dress you were wearing.

He noticed the air condition had made goosebumps rise on your skin and pebbled your nipples, letting him know you hadn’t put on a bra. God fucking damn it. He felt his pants tightening over his hips, and he mentally cursed himself to the devil. God, you were really going to be the death of him.

You watched as his hands tightened around the steering wheel, and you cast your eyes down his body. You bit your lip as you noticed the slight bulge in his pants. It was like a lightbulb going off over your head as you pushed the seatbelt strap under your right arm before leaning over the middle console slightly, placing your mouth right against his ear.

“See something you like, Javi?”

You watch as goosebumps rise on the skin beneath his ear, all the way down his neck. You look over his shoulder to take in the area of his crotch again, watching him twitch slightly. You bit your lip, overthinking a possible plan that wouldn’t distract him too much.

You slowly let your hand follow his front, all the way down to rest against the hard cock in his pants. You very much enjoyed the fact that you had this effect on him. You heard him draw in a deep breath of air as your hand finally came in contact with him, and you watched as his eyes fluttered slightly.

“What are you doing, hermosa…” you can hear he’s short of breaths, and it makes your heart do a slight flip. It turns you on, knowing the effect you have on him. Maybe it turns him on as well - knowing you’re aroused and willing to tease the living shit out of him.

“Eyes on the road, Javi…” you whisper in his ear as he tugs his lip in between his teeth, your hand moving over his bulge with gentle strokes. You tug his earlobe into your mouth, sucking on the soft flesh before you lick up the outside of his ear with a firm tongue. He lets out a moan as his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

You place a kiss on his tragus, then his cheekbone before peppering kisses down his jaw. You reach the column of his throat, placing small kisses over his pulse point, feeling the way his pulse is beating erratically under the soft, tan skin. Your hand is still moving in gentle circles, his breath languid as he’s still watching the road.

“Does this turn you on, Javi?” you whisper into his ear and he nods with a gulp. You smile as you go back to kissing his neck, hearing the way his breathing got caught in his throat again. You barely feel it when he brings the car to a stop, but you definitely feel the way he turns his body violently, his hand grasping you behind the neck, drawing you in for a hot and heavy kiss.

His tongue is dominating your mouth, tasting every crevice of your teeth and the roof of your mouth. You’re a breathless mess by the time he lets you go, yanking his seatbelt off before he’s undoing yours and basically manhandling you into his lap.

You’re whimpering as his hands find your hips, grinding his crotch forcefully into your mound, drawing a moan out of your mouth. His tongue is still exploring your mouth with everything it’s got, drawing a wet patch into the crotch of your panties. The fabric of his jeans is rough against your inner thighs as they grow more and more sensitive as your arousal begins to bloom in your belly.

Javi’s hands are traveling up and down your hips, gripping your flesh on top of your dress, bunching the fabric in his hands as he continues to ravish your mouth. You place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, whimpering wantonly into his mouth as the friction from his bulge draws you closer and closer to an inevitable orgasm.

It’s a whole new feeling from the few times you’ve brought yourself satisfaction with your own fingers, and it turns you on even more to think that someone is present to watch you come undone. You bite onto his bottom lip as you moan out, the friction against your clit finally makes the coil in your abdomen snap. Your eyes snap shut as your fingers dig themselves into his shoulders, his hands stilling your hips over his, holding your convulsing pussy tight against his bulge, letting him feel the contractions happening within your panties.

You let his bottom lip go as you finally come down from your startling high, opening your eyes slightly to take in his lust-blown eyes looking right back at you. You tug your own lip in between your teeth, your chest heaving from the daze you found yourself in as you lean back slightly, accidentally leaning against the steering wheel, making the horn go off.

It startles both of you before you both break out into laughter of just how unconventional the whole situation was. You hoped that no one noticed your little escapade - hell, you didn’t even know where you were. You finally looked around, noticing you were literally in the middle of nowhere, and you saw nothing but water and trees around the car.

It was like he’d driven you straight out into what appears to be a lake, and you’d been too occupied with him to even notice where you were. You popped open the door and stepped out into what appeared to be a mix of sand and dirt. You let out a laugh as you finally inhaled something that wasn’t the warm air of the car that reeked of sweat and sex.

Javi followed you out of the car before opening the passenger door behind the driver’s, reeling out a blanket and a basket full of delicious looking food, fruits and two bottles of wine.

“How romantic.” You giggle and hear your stomach grumble, letting you know it hadn’t forgotten about the lack of food since the pancakes earlier in the morning. You almost moan out at the sight of ripe strawberries, raspberries and blueberries. “A picnic?”

“Come on,” he says as he makes his way toward a small spot behind some trees that has the perfect amount of shade while it still overlooks the water of the lake. From the place where you’re standing, you can’t make out how big it is. You follow him and almost throw yourself on the blanket the moment he’s laid it on the grass.

You’re happy that it’s grass you’re on top of - you hate having sand in between your toes, no matter how much you love the beach and walking barefoot. You smile as he places the basket in the middle of the blanket before sitting down on the other side of it, facing you.

“Don’t know how long I can sit on the ground. I am an old man, after all.” He says as he picks the wine out of the basket, wringing it open. You really like the whole screw-lid invention. It’s so much easier.

“From the things I’ve experienced, you’re definitely… Young by heart.” You giggle before reaching into the basket to pick out a strawberry. You hold his gaze as you push the red berry past your lips, biting through the fruit. You giggle when you feel some of the juice trail down your chin and watch his movements as he quickly wipes your chin with his fingers.

“Thank you, Javi.” You smile before chewing through the berry, very much enjoying the way he sucks the juice off of his fingers, and the way he looks at you while doing so. You watch as he pours two glasses of the wine before he extends one glass toward you. You take it and happily take a sip.

“You know, I actually didn’t take you for the romantic type,” You say as you both fill your mouths with fruit. “But this is pretty damn romantic in my opinion.” You let out a laugh when he shrugs his shoulders, letting you know you were probably somewhat right.

“Guess I’d have to be a tiny bit romantic seeing I just made you come in the driver’s seat of my car.” The way he says it so shamelessly amazes you. He says it like the most natural thing in the world - bringing a stranger he met yesterday to an orgasm in his car on their second date. This was a date, wasn’t it?

“I mean, if you wanna call it a date, then it’s alright with me.” He says and you furrow your brows before you realize you’d actually said it out loud. Asked him if it was a date. Oh my god. You mentally slap yourself as you let out a small laugh, before nodding.

“Alright. A date with the most interesting man I’ve ever met.” You say as you raise your class for him to cheer with you. “I know this summer is going to be unforgettable.” You say as the rim of his glass meets yours, making you both smile at each other.

The hours, like yesterday, pass by like you’ve known each other for a lifetime. You’re both telling each other even more details about yourselves that hadn’t surfaced the day before. Before you know it, the sun is setting, and you’ve found your way into Javi’s embrace. It feels like you belong there - like his arms were made for holding you.

“Is it safe to swim in the water?” you whisper as you watch the sun descend on the sky. You bite your lip at the thought of skinny dipping with a man watching you, maybe even joining you.

“In el Embalse de San Rafael?” he moves his body slightly to look down at you, and he watches you as you nod. “Yeah, it is.” He feels his heart pick up the pace as he thinks about seeing you in nothing but your underwear. Or the bikini, which he’d seen you in earlier. Then it dawns on him that you probably hadn’t brought it along, which left the only possibility… you being naked.

If you do decide to strip, he knows he’s definitely not going to be able to keep his hands to himself. There’s so much sexual tension between the two of you, he’s constantly semi-hard in his pants and thinking about what messes the two of you could create together. On the other hand, he knows that you haven’t been with anyone yet, and it makes him reluctant to just do anything with you.

The whole thing the two of you had done in his car had been completely on autopilot on his behalf, and it only dawned on him what he’d done to you after he’d felt you orgasm against him. He almost felt bad about getting you off, but then he’d seen the blissed-out expression on your face.

Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed you shimmying out of his arms, discarding your summer dress and gliding your panties down your legs before his eyes are glued to the swell of your ass, moving as you slowly tread out into the water.

He feels his heart going through many if not all emotions right at that moment. He watches as you turn your body slightly, waving to him, encouraging him to follow you into the water. He gulps down a lump that has formed in his throat as he watches your body slowly disappear under the water, before he stands up and hurriedly pulls off his clothes, one item at a time.

He contemplates on keeping his boxer briefs on, but quickly decides to discard them along with the rest of his clothes. He notices you’re giving him privacy, as you’re facing away from him, and he silently appreciates it. It’s been a long while since he’s been this kind of intimate with a woman, and boy if he doesn’t feel some kind of nervous.

As he walks toward the edge of the water, he thinks over the last time he actually took his time in appreciating a woman. Not just pleasuring her - actually appreciating her. Sure, he appreciated some of his informants’ readiness in sleeping with him and satisfying his need, but he didn’t spare them much more than that. He kind of felt like a dick about it, now he thought of it.

Before he could think more about it, his hips had become engulfed within the water, and he was close, so close, to you. If he reached out, he was touching your shoulder. He admired the way the water dripped from your hair onto your shoulder as you took in the view in front of you, getting just as lost in your thoughts as he had been in his.

He slowly submerges himself in the water behind you, and he’s sure you know he’s right behind you. His arms come around your middle, pulling your back into his chest. You giggle when you feel his mustache tickle its way over your shoulder, his warm breath turning cold against your wet skin.

You feel his hands slowly, timidly, explore the front of your body, and you extend your torso slowly from the crumpled-up position you’d been sitting in. His hands slide opposite of each other, one up and one down as he places one hand on your hip and the other just under the swell of your breast.

You moan lightly at the contact, his touch once again alighting something inside of you. His thumb grazes the underside of your breast just under your nipple, and it makes you suck in a deep breath. It’s the first time someone has ever touched your chest, and it feels so damn good. Then he’s gingerly rolling your nipple between his fingers, making you whimper out - and it’s almost not possible that it feels even better. But it does.

You lay your head back against his shoulder as the hand on your hip travels further down and in between your legs. You tug your lip in between your teeth as his lips continue their assault on your neck and shoulder. You feel his fingers experimentally moving in between your folds, rough pads gliding over the very delicate lips of your pussy.

“This okay?” he whispers in your ear as his hold on you tightens, drawing you closer to his body. You feel the evidence of the effect you have on him as his erection presses into the small of your back, making you moan even more wantonly.

“Yes, god Javi, touch me.” You whimper out as his fingers drag through your folds once, twice, three times before he languidly dips just the tip of his finger into your wet core. It feels amazing when you do it yourself, but when Javi does it - it feels way better. Like he knows just the depth of where your most sensitive parts are, as pushes his finger in further, finding it in an instant.

Your hand finds his arm and you tighten your hand on top of the muscle, squeezing your eyes shut as he sucks over your pulse point. You’re left breathless by so little, and it makes you wonder just how little he needs to do to ruin you completely. It isn’t going to take much for him to take you apart.

Another finger dips into your core and you moan out again as he slowly works you open. His mouth is tugging your earlobe into its heat, and it feels like you’re going to lose yourself into pleasure. Your mind is spiraling into a haze as he thrusts his fingers into you, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your bundle of nerves while his fingers are still pulling and twisting your nipple.

You let out a deep, guttural moan as he curls his fingers just right inside of you, making stars appear before your eyes. Your free hand makes its way into Javi’s unruly locks, the wet digits tangling with his dry hair. You feel yourself on the edge of going absolutely feral, simply wanting to turn around and absolutely ravish the man behind you. You want to lay him against the sand of the shore and ride him senseless.

You let go in his arms, relishing in the fact that he’s bringing you pleasure so easily. You clench around his fingers as he holds you close, your cunt milking his fingers, silently wishing it was his cock. You knew it would probably take some getting used to - having something as big as the thing you so obviously felt against your back inside you.

You were certainly going to find out if you could though, and just how much of him you could fit inside of you. Maybe not right now, but sometime later, that was for sure. Your chest is still calming down from your high and Javi’s arms are still keeping you anchored to the ground. You were sure that you were going to ascend into heaven at one point during your orgasm.

His arms are warm around you in the cold water, but it still makes you shiver lightly. You wring out of his hold, turning to face him before you’re kissing him intently, bringing both of your wet hands into his hair this time, pulling his front close to yours. You feel him nudge against your stomach and you smile against his lips, before you hum slightly.

His arms come around you yet again - or rather his hands come around you to grasp the flesh of your ass. He moans into your mouth as you move your body against his sensually, wanting to repay the favor. He doesn’t let you, though, because he’s pulling away from you shortly after.

“Come on. You’re shivering.” He says as he finds your hand under the surface of the water, pulling you by the hand to the shore. On the way there, you get to admire the muscles of his ass - the way he carried himself made something clench in your pelvis, even though he’d just given you an orgasm. Were you already ready for round… 3?

The angry, red wound on his shoulder reminds you just what kind of a man he was. You wondered how long it had been since he had been shot - the wound looked partially healed, and there was just the slightest scab over it. You didn’t know much about gunshot wounds, but it appeared that he was shot from the front. You wondered if it had gone right through. It looked like it.

You caught yourself getting lost in thoughts about the kind of people he chased - if he chased people - that could leave him with a wound like that. You decided you were going to ask him about it, when you felt the time was right. For now, you let your eyes wander again.

Back on land, you’re still admiring his body, and you’re admiring him very shamelessly. It was like he brought out the worst in you - an untamable, aroused demon. You hadn’t ever eaten someone up with your eyes like you were currently watching Javi. You knew he felt your eyes on him, but you weren’t sure how he was handling it.

You tilted your head as he brought his boxer briefs up his legs to cover his ass and shield his crotch from you. You reluctantly walked over to your own clothes, also pulling your panties back on with your back turned to Javi.

There was that awkwardness again… you sigh as you pull your dress back on, the wetness of your body making the fabric stick to your skin uncomfortably. The dress clings to the back of your thighs as you tie the band behind your neck, and just then, you realize how much the temperature has actually dropped, simultaneously with the sun setting.

Even though it was still warm, you were sure the temperature had dropped more than a few degrees. The goosebumps that rise on your skin this time are from the coldness of the air around you, as you make your way back to the blanket you were previously sitting on, looking through the basket to find the next thing you were filling your grumbling stomach with.

You slightly ignore Javi as he sits down beside you, feeling kind of mad at him for acting the way he did. How did he just take you on a romantic date by a lake, proceed to give you an orgasm while you both were stark naked in the lake, care enough to get you out of the water because he could feel you were cold, and then go on to blankly ignoring you while he got dressed?

“So, I was thinking we could go somewhere to eat, if you’re hungry. I was thinking maybe I could treat you to some empanadas and a beer?” You almost rolled your eyes at him but caught yourself before you could actually do it. You let out a deep exhale, not really knowing how to handle the situation unfolding.

On one hand, you were starving for something that wasn’t wine and fruit. Empanadas and cheap beer sounded so perfect, and you silently cursed Javi to hell for being so thoughtful and yet so resistant. You kind of hated him for not taking advantage of you. It sounds weird, saying it that way, but you really did wish he wouldn’t hold back with you. You didn’t really think further before the words had already left your mouth.

“Is there something wrong with me, Javi?” you say with so much uncertainty it takes him aback. Where the sudden doubt from you had come from, he had no idea. You appeared to be so sure of what you wanted - so sure of yourself. And yet here you were, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.

He understood why you felt that way, though. He didn’t feel good about why you possibly felt this way, but he just couldn’t bring himself to let go with you. He didn’t want to selfishly take advantage of you, even though he desperately wanted to feel you clench and come around him. He wanted to feel the warmth of your cunt, and the warmth of having you close - closer than he’d already had you.

“Hermosa, no.” He speaks as he quickly draws you into his arms, pulling your trembling body back into his warmth. Why was he so damn warm all the time? You hated yourself for the way your body so easily relaxed into his body, calming you down in an instant.

“There must be something wrong with me. Why don’t you want me?” you whisper as he’s peppering kisses into your damp hair, his hands sliding up and down the length of your arms. It feels so good, being right there in his arms. The tremble in your body has been turned down to nothing more than a little shiver, and you feel yourself relaxing into his chest.

“Trust me, hermosa, I want you so much it hurts.” It felt weird, putting it into words like that, but it was the truth. It wasn’t just in the way his cock ached to find solace within your heat - no it was so much more than that, and it scared him more than anything had ever done before. He didn’t even feel this way about his ex-fiancée.

“I want it to be perfect for you. But I’m scared, hermosa. Scared I’m going to hurt you. Scared that I’m not right for you, hell, even good enough for you. I want you to have the best. And I’m not the best.” He speaks as he looks out into the mountains on the opposite side of the lake, that mountain ridge separating the two of you from the bustling life of Bogotá.

It was easier to say it to you, when he wasn’t looking at you. He felt so bad about turning you down again and again, even though he knew you would come onto him again and again. He was afraid you were going to change your mind about him, hell, he was afraid he was going to change his mind about you.

His head and heart were going a thousand miles an hour. It’d been so long since he’d been honest with someone in this way. Not even Connie, not even Steve. Not even his informants. You just had that effect on him. Wanting to open up to someone.

“Javi…” you finally speak, and he closes his eyes, awaiting your next words. He feels as you wiggle out of his arms, before he feels your legs straddling his, your hands sliding up his arms before coming to a rest on his shoulder and his neck. He feels you press a gentle kiss to his lips, before he finally lets his hands come up to rest on your hips.

“You could never hurt me. At least I don’t have the imagination to think of why you would hurt me. Everything I’ve experienced with you has been absolutely amazing.” Your fingers are rubbing soft circles into the nape of his neck, and he feels the tension leaving his body slowly.

“Javi, I want to do this with you. I want you to give me an unforgettable summer. And I know you can do just that.” You lean in and place another kiss against his lips, this time feeling the reciprocation of his lips against yours. “I want it to be you. I want to give myself to you.” You breathe against his lips, making goosebumps rise on his arms at your words.

His mind is imagining so many things as the warmth of your inner thighs spreads over his hips, seeping into his hips and straight into his groin. He’s imagining other women with your face on them, how he would fuck them into senselessness in indescribable positions, bringing them undeniable pleasure.

Yet he can’t bring himself to act on his feelings and desires just yet. He knows you’re going to be saddened by him turning you down yet again, but with this rejection, he also knows that he is going to give into you, sooner or later. You just had to wait.

“Okay, hermosa.” He says against your lips, before capturing them in another kiss. “But not yet. Not today.” His hands are working over your ass, massaging the soft flesh with his rough hands. It draws yet another wet patch into your panties, joining the dried one already left there.

“If I’m going to have sex with you, I’m gonna be doing it in a proper bed.” You giggle at his words, just the thought of the two of you coming together as one alighting your nerve endings. “But right now, I think we both need to eat something.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

next chapter

[j-a-nuary]

Date Roulette: Taeyang

Friday

Intro Week Start Seungri Week Start Daesung Week Start Previous Next

-----

CW: not overtly explicit smut, but it's there.

-----

Luckily, it didn’t take much to convince Chul that I absolutely did not want his behind the scenes information. Just the fact that the information existed in the first place was already more than I wanted to deal with.

I had heard my phone go off a few times as I tried to sleep, but I had made the conscious decision to ignore it at the time.

But here, in the car, stuck in morning traffic, I had nothing better to do.

From: Zico I think this is what the kids call "later"

From: Zico Okay maybe you're asleep but I'm still going to expect an explanation tomorrow.

I rolled my eyes and decided to come back to that later.

From: Hugeboy Why did Zico just text me "your crush is weird, just find a normal girl"?

From: Hugeboy Oh. He's drunk.

From: Hugeboy Good morning! Good luck with filming today!

Time to return to the other chat, it seemed.

To: Zico Yesterday, I was annoyed with you (a little bit) because of the whole dancers talk to dancers thing

To: Zico You seemed to be crossing some kind of boundary, but I let it go because you appeared to have some sort of good intention

To: Zico This morning however…

To: Zico I'm just plain annoyed with you because you're impatient and immature.

An alert popped up on my screen. I tapped it open.

From: Hugeboy If you're trying to yell at Zico, he's still asleep.

To: Hugeboy I assume he went to yours after drinking?

To: Hugeboy Also, good morning.

From: Hugeboy Yes. He's going to be out for a while.

From: Hugeboy What were you texting him?

To: Hugeboy I just don't like what he texted you that.

To: Hugeboy I'm not weird.

To: Hugeboy I just forgot to text him back

To: Hugeboy He's weird for getting so upset about it

From: Hugeboy Ah, that makes me happy

To: Hugeboy Why ?

From: Hugeboy Because… it's like…

From: Hugeboy You want me to keep liking you

I stared at the message as the car continued its slow trundle through the city. I felt like I should say something, but what?

To: Hugeboy I just don’t like that Zico feels like I owe him something.

From: Hugeboy (¬‿¬ ) whatever you say

I clicked my screen off and crossed my arms, staring out at the slightly gray morning.

“What was all that?”

I glanced at Taeyang, but after catching the little red light of a camera strapped onto the dashboard I just shook my head.

Taeyang gave a snort of a laugh, shaking his head in turn.

-----

“Okay. Just remember that if you’re going to be talking about anything relevant, you need to come over here so we can catch it,” Chul reminded me.

“I know, I know,” I re-tucked my shirt into the billowy pants that wardrobe had given me. “So diligent.”

“I just want to be sure that you know that we will not be able to hear you unless you come over here,” he was nodding a little too much, and his eyes were exaggeratedly wide.

“I am aware, Chul,” I smiled, “thank you for looking out after me.”

He gave me a small smile and nodded.

-----

“My first time being basically off mic and I have nothing to talk about to take advantage of it,” I stretched next to Taeyang.

“Yeah, it’s kind of wasted on me, huh?”

“Basically,” I nodded towards the small group of assorted staff that he had told me contained his girlfriend, “which one is her?”

“Blue headband.”

“Ah,” I watched her for a moment before continuing, “if you think it would help, you can tell her that she’s more my type than you are.”

“What?” Taeyang looked shocked.

“What?” I shrugged, “she’s way better looking than you.”

“Are you…” he looked uncomfortable, “interested in women?”

“Isn’t everyone?”

I wished I hadn’t said anything. The vibes were off. The amount of reshooting we had to do was completely out of hand.

Or maybe all shoots were like this? It seemed excessive to me though.

-----

When we broke for a late breakfast, Taeyang quickly disappeared. I noticed that Ms. Blue Headband also was nowhere to be seen.

I made my way to a nearby cafe on my own. I was still mic-free, a fact that I hadn’t really thought about until a body hit the chair across from me.

I had pulled a hoodie over the costume when I left. The hood itself was oversized, which I was grateful for as I had been able to pull it up and slightly over my face.

Did I care who it was? I mulled over the question for a moment, still staring directly into my slightly chipped mug of tea.

“Ah, excuse me?” a familiar voice flagged down a waiter, “can I get an americano?”

I looked up from my admittedly extremely slouched position to meet Mino’s gaze.

What a pleasant surprise.

“What are you doing here?”

“What are you talking about?” he shrugged, “I come here all the time.”

He crossed his arms and looked around the restaurant casually before shooting me a sly smile.

“Stalker.”

“What?” I sat up straighter, “how am I a stalker? I just came here because it had the highest ratings on naver.”

Mino leaned forward, still smiling.

“You don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what?”

“Ah, really?” He leaned back, gripping the edge of the seat to counterbalance himself.

“What?” I pressed him.

“We first met here,” he nodded towards a booth, “over there.”

I looked around, taking in the restaurant fully for the first time since I had arrived.

“That’s right,” I muttered, “how did I not know that?”

“You’ve met a lot of people - thank you,” he interrupted himself as the waiter returned with his coffee, “and you’ve been to a lot of places recently.”

He paused to sip the drink before finishing, “I’ll try not to take it too personally.”

I just nodded and leaned back in my own chair.

We sat in silence for a while. Mino had a small laptop with him, which he had set up and was tapping at as he sipped at his cup. His knee bounced underneath the table, slightly shaking his entire body with the movement.

For my part, I simply scrolled on my phone. I was on my old twitter account. It was the one I used primarily to keep in contact with my English speaking friends, with a slight sprinkle of Spanish every now and again.

Art post. Fan post. Video games. Video games. Video games. Photo of luggage being packed, captioned “countdown initiated”. Art post. Video games.

For a few minutes I was completely able to forget about the show, the boys, the house, and somehow even the slight problem that was the man sitting across from me. And just how angry Jiyong would get if he knew that this was happening.

“I like this.”

I looked up at Mino. He had his chin on one hand, intently focused on the screen in front of him. At some point he had put on some glasses, but I hadn’t noticed.

“Huh?”

He glanced at me, and smiled.

“I like this,” he turned his eyes back to the screen, “sitting with you here.”

I blinked at him a few times, before turning my own attention back to my phone.

“Me too.”

We returned to our silent parallel existence until an alarm went off on my phone.

“Break’s over,” I sighed standing up. I started rifling through my bag, looking for my card to go pay at the counter.

“Just go,” Mino waved me off, “I’ll pay.”

“Are you sure?” I lifted my hand, card now between my fingers, “I’ve got it right here.”

“Go,” Mino nodded.

I must have been wearing one of my doubtful looks, because he repeated himself emphatically as my phone started ringing.

“Go,” he insisted, “let me take care of it.”

“Okay,” I sighed, hefting my bag over my shoulder, “I’ll pay you back next time,” I was now headed towards the door, raising the now answered phone as I left, "I promise."

"Where are you? We need to work," an annoyed Taeyang complained through the phone as Mino laughed and waved me off.

"I'm like two minutes away, the cafe on the corner."

"Alright, well, hurry up."

-----

"Ayyyyyy, the star is here!"

For once, Bobby wasn't immediately on my nerves.

Though that may have had something to do with the woman standing next to him.

Soo-ah excitedly waved as I pulled off the hoodie and let the makeup artist touch me up.

I waved as much as I could without making things harder for the woman dabbing a sponge over my cheeks. Once I was finally given the go-ahead, I practically ran over to her.

"What are you doing here?"

"I told Jiwon-ah that I'm a big fan of the new female dancer at YG and he brought me to watch," Soo-ah broke into laughter at her own joke, giddily grasping my hands in hers.

I shot Bobby a thumbs up, applauding his move. He blushed slightly, but didn't say anything.

"But look at you! This is amazing," she still held my hands as she looked around.

There was a shout for Taeyang and I to get back on the set.

"I have to go, are you staying?"

"Yes," she nodded emphatically, "as long as I'm allowed."

I gave her a quick pat on her head. It was a habit that had started as a joke when she joined my Kung Fu class, but was not just a natural thing at times.

"Good, I'll be back."

-----

“No good!” called the camera operator/director, “Luna?”

“Sorry, sorry,” I called back.

“You’ve got to hit the mark,” was the only response to my placation. “Back in starting positions.”

For what felt like the hundredth time, Taeyang and I returned to our spots while the crew reset the scenery.

“No good!"

“I am going to kill myself if I don’t get this right,” I groaned at Taeyang.

"What is going on you guys?" The director walked onto the set and approached us both, "Luna, what's with the hesitation?"

"Sorry," I shook my head, "I just have to focus."

"Yeah, also…," he turned towards Taeyang  now, "go talk to wardrobe, your shirt got ripped somehow."

"What?" he pulled the hem of his shirt out slightly to take a look.

"On the back, here," the director indicated to his left side.

-----

While waiting for Taeyang to get his shirt stitched, I was dallying in one of the darker corners of the studio space with Soo-ah.

“I think it looked fine. I don’t know why they kept stopping it,” she observed.

“He’s not getting low enough,” I explained, “if he stays that high up, I can’t use his body to roll.”

“Can’t you just flip?” She pointed out.

“What? Front flip? He would be in the way,” I shook my head, “we’d both just end up getting hurt.”

“No,” she protested, “that backwards one that you spent ages trying to teach to Woohyung.”

I stared at her. How had I not considered that?

“The springy one?” I flipped my wrist slightly, mimicking the motion.

“Yeah! Since you burst upwards at the start, he doesn’t have to go as low.”

I approached Taeyang. He raised a hand and shook his head.

“I know,” he started with a sigh, “I ju-”

“I don’t care,” I waved his words away, “you don’t have to change anything. Soo-ah came up with a way to fix it.”

“What?”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing. And keep going, even if they call for us to stop, okay?” I waited for him to nod, “I just want to get one full go-through before we decide if we want to keep it or not.”

-----

The jump went well. It took two additional shots to get something I thought was good enough, since the crew hadn’t been expecting it, but Taeyang was skeptical. In my opinion, it was much better than the original choreography. Plus it eliminated the need for Taeyang and I to get body-to-body with each other, which I suspected that his girlfriend also appreciated.

The director was delighted with what he called the “new highlight”, but explained that I had just guaranteed that we would need to stay and film either until very late tonight, or come back tomorrow.

“I thought we were filming tomorrow again anyway?” 

“Well, we booked the space just in case,” Taeyang explained, “but it wasn’t exactly necessary.”

“That’s right, but if we make changes like this,” the director shrugged, “it naturally takes longer.”

“Right,” I nodded, “that makes sense. I think I’d prefer to split it, if that’s not a problem.”

“No problem, let’s work until…” Taeyang trailed off, looking at the director for input.

“Ah, it’s,” the director checked his watch, “okay it’s 3pm now…” he tilted his head. I could almost see the mental calculations going on in his head.

“Let’s go until 6pm? Then I can get today’s footage to the editing team, and they’ll tell us what we need for tomorrow.”

“Okay, uh, just give me one second.”

I jogged over to where Bobby and Soo-ah were sitting and talking.

“Hey, we’re going for another three hours. You don’t have to hang around this whole time if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t mind,” Bobby shrugged, “but I am hearing some very concerning stuff from Soo-ah.”

I blinked, fast and repeatedly. I couldn’t really think of what Soo-ah may have been telling him.

“Don’t make it sound like that,” Soo-ah pouted, “I was just talking about you and Minjung’s festival demonstrations.”

“Oh! Um,” I shrugged, “yeah. That’s fine. But listen, I gotta go back. If you guys leave just text me, okay?”

-----

“What do you want to do for dinner?” Taeyang asked from the other side of the wardrobe area.

Several racks of clothes, and about three portable canvas “walls” separated us. However, I thought I could tell that he wasn’t really interested.

“I’m actually getting dinner with Soo-ah,” I called back across the room, “you can come if you want.”

“Ah, I’ll just go ahead. Have fun.”

I heard a door open and close. I suspected that I was now alone in the room.

Half-dressed, I sat down and pulled out my phone.

From: Sooooo-AH! We’re heading out to dinner. You’re as amazing as always!

I smiled at the message. How I had ever been lucky enough to become friends with Soo-ah, I didn’t know.

To: Sooooo-AH! Have fun! I was so happy you came today!

I switched to another waiting message.

From: Zico Okay so I understand I need to apologize

From: Zico I was in a mood last night

From: Zico and I took it out on you

From: Zico which was not fair

From: Zico I’m sorry

I didn’t know what to say to that. I started typing, but decided the energy wasn’t worth it right now. While I was tapping the backspace, another message alert popped up.

From: Hugeboy Are you done? I just saw Taeyang leave.

To: Hugeboy Are you stalking me?

From: Hugeboy I was dropping off something for Seunghoon. I just passed Taeyang in the hallway.

To: Hugeboy Suspicious

To: Hugeboy Yeah, we’re done.

From: Hugeboy Hmm… this doesn’t help my case, but where are you? Did you leave already?

I considered the message. Would it be too much to meet him here? On the other hand, wouldn’t it just be a coincidence?

To: Hugeboy To be honest, I’m being lazy in wardrobe 4

To: Hugeboy I sat down and now I don’t want to get up again

From: Hugeboy Number 4?? I’m not too far from there |ω･)ﾉ

To: Hugeboy Ah, I guess I have an excuse to just sit for a little while longer then.

He didn’t text back. I supposed he had other things to focus on at the moment.

I stretched backwards, cracking my back against the chair before hauling myself upwards, back to where my remaining normal clothes were sitting on a shelf.

As I picked up my shirt, a business card fluttered onto the floor. I bent to pick it up, curious as to who it could be from.

“Hello?” Mino’s voice echoed through the room.

Spurred into action by no longer being alone, I shoved the card into my pocket and started tugging my shirt on.

“Over here,” I called out.

Mino rounded the corner of the green canvas divider as I was tugging my shirt down over my stomach. His eyes dropped to my waist, then flew upwards as he turned slightly away from me.

“You really were being lazy,” he mumbled.

“You can’t be embarrassed by some stomach skin,” I laughed, “I’ve seen your backup dancers’ outfits.”

“That’s different,” he glanced at me, confirming that I was decent before he turned to face me again.

“Ah, can I say this?” he mumbled in a tone that seemed to be flirtatious.

“Say what?”

“Maybe I should have been faster,” he smiled, eyes flitting briefly down my body before refocusing on my face.

“Yah, be careful,” I scolded him slightly.

“Right, right,” he nodded, then jerked his head towards the exit, “should we go?”

“Sure thing,” I swung my bag over my shoulder, “where to?”

-----

“I know I’ve asked this about six times in the last ten minutes but…” I trailed off.

“And I’ll say the same thing,” Mino patted my leg before returning his hand to the shifter of his car, “it’s fine.”

We stopped at a red light, I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt closer around my face.

Mino’s hand rested on my knee again, this time squeezing reassuringly.

“If you don’t want to come to my house, we can go someplace else.”

“No, it’s fine,” I sighed, “I just… you know I can probably beat you in a fight, right?”

“I have no intention of testing that,” Mino said, once again returning his hand to the shifter as the light turned green.

“Not even for self-preservation,” he craned his neck to check all angles before pulling across three lanes of traffic in a left turn, “I’m not that type.”

I wasn’t sure exactly how to respond to that, so I lifted my phone to distract me. A new message was waiting for me.

From: Llyong Boho Let’s get dinner.

I squinted at the message. I was once again going to have to lie.

I considered asking Bobby and Soo-ah to cover for me, but that felt like it could fall apart pretty easily.

To: Llyong Boho I actually decided to get dinner on my own.

To: Llyong Boho Just taking a minute to myself, you know?

I stared at the screen for a few minutes. I had long ago turned my read receipts off, so I was completely in the dark about what was happening unless the bubbles popped up.

They did not.

I tucked my phone away.

“You okay?” Mino asked.

“Yeah, just,” I sighed, “Jiyong.”

-----

“You seem calmer than usual,” I was sitting in Mino’s kitchen, a wonderfully friendly cat curled up in my lap. Mino was sitting across from me, now empty take-away dishes between us on the table.

“Do I? Maybe it’s just because it’s my house,” Mino shrugged.

“I don’t mean that. I mean…” I took a second to work out what I was trying to say, “like you’re not worried? You’re usually kind of anxious when I see you.”

“Ah,” Mino leaned forward, resting his head on his hand, “I decided to not worry about the show, or Jiyong, or anything like that.”

“Really? It’s that simple?”

Mino nodded, “I figure that as long as you and I are still talking, texting, whatever…” he leaned back again, “that should be enough, right?”

He really did seem relaxed. However, his nerves were betrayed by the way he was staring into space and idly spinning a ring on one of his fingers.

I couldn’t help it.

“Ah, I suppose that’s the first step,” I stood up, much to Jhonny’s annoyance, and started cleaning up the containers on the table, “right?”

Mino looked up at me, cocking his head. The ring stopped.

“First step for what?”

“For you to move on,” I teased him.

“Yah,” he stood up and took the containers out of my hands, dropping them on the counter before turning back to me. He gave me a serious look as he took my hand and pulled me towards him.

“I just don’t want to be another source of stress.”

“I was teasing you,” I explained.

“I know,” he had leaned against the counter, pulling me to lean against his body, “but I know you make jokes as a way to say serious things.”

“How do you know that?” I asked him.

“I pay attention is all. So,” Mino swayed his arms slightly, gently wiggling me back and forth, “are you worried that I’ll stop liking you?”

“Not really.”

His eyebrows dipped slightly.

“Really?”

I lifted my heels slightly, reaching up to quickly kiss his cheek.

“Yah,” he was beginning to blush as I pulled back, “you’re going to make me nervous again.”

I grinned, then leaned up again. This time I pressed my lips to his.

Mino hummed, squeezing me against him a little tighter.

I let myself enjoy it for a moment before pulling back.

“I should head back soon,” I dropped my head onto his chest, “I feel like a child out after curfew.”

“I’ll drop you off,” Mino offered.

“No,” I groaned, trying to take a step back, “I should take the train. I said that I was on my own.”

“At least let me get you a taxi,” Mino held fast around my waist, leaning forward and kissing my forehead. “You know you can’t really take public transport anymore, right?”

“Ah, right, I’m famous by association. But that’s okay, I can pay for it. Besides, you covered my coffee this morning.”

“Just let me get it,” he pressed, “I like doing things for you.”

-----

“I’m home,” I called out as I kicked off my shoes in the entryway.

A flat “good to see you,” echoed from somewhere inside the house. I couldn’t quite tell who had said it, but it felt nice to hear all the same.

I turned into the living room to see Daesung watching some drama. He glanced up as I entered.

“How was your solo dinner?”

“Good,” I fell onto the sofa next to him, letting my legs hang over the side, “what are you watching?”

He clicked a button on the remote to display the show information and read aloud the name of some program that I wasn’t familiar with.

“Any good?”

“Eh,” he shrugged, “how was filming?”

“Busy but also, not? Is that how it usually is?”

“It’s usually even worse,” he explained, “but we’re used to it.”

“Fair…” I stared at the television, not really absorbing anything happening on the screen. After a moment, I realized something.

“Where are the others?”

“I think Jiyong is sulking, Taeyang isn’t back yet, and I don’t know about the other two.”

I sighed, letting my head drop against Daesung’s shoulder.

“Should I go see him?”

Daesung stretched his arm out and readjusted in his seat. I let my head slide down to rest on his leg.

“It’s not your responsibility,” he almost hummed the words as he started running his fingers through my hair, “he’s not a child.”

I nodded, letting my eyes close.

“I feel responsible though.”

“Stop. You needed time to yourself, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

I groaned as his fingernails skimmed my scalp.

“You’re going to put me to sleep,” I whined.

“You deserve to rest.”

-----

“Come on,” it was definitely one of the guys talking, though they were speaking so softly, and I was so tired, that I couldn’t quite place who it was.

I grumbled as I felt arms slide under my shoulders and knees.

“But I’m sleeping.”

I felt like my eyes were stuck together. Or maybe I just didn’t want to open them anyway.

“Just come this way a little bit.”

I leaned towards the voice.

“Good girl, ready now?”

I nodded. Beginning to recognize the whisper, I wound one of my hands into his shirt for more security.

My body lifted slowly. I groaned again, involuntarily, annoyed by the cooler air hitting the freshly exposed bits of my arms and legs.

The chest bounced with a laugh.

I was still a little disoriented, not quite able to mentally follow the path that I was being carried along.

“Ah, can you open her door?”

“Sure,” that one was definitely Taeyang.

My body turned, I imagined to get through the doorway without bumping my head on the door frame.

“Okay,” I felt a knee under me as he knelt on my mattress to get me situated, “here you are.”

I groaned and refused to loosen my fingers from the shirt that my face was resting on.

There was a silent laugh. I only knew about it from the tell-tale jump on the chest.

“You have to let go,” it wasn’t a demand or admonishment.

I groaned more adamantly, gripping the cloth even tighter.

A heavy sigh, followed by “ah, fine.”

I loosened my grip slightly, allowing him to adjust his position enough that I was left with my head resting against his chest.

I wound my legs between his, noticing that they were thinner than I had expected.

“Are you always this affectionate when you’re tired?”

I shrugged.

“You weren’t like this at all during my week.’

“I had some fresh, uh…” I thought back to the Weekly Idol interview trying to remember the word I had learned, “trauma?”

“That’s true,” his fingers were back in my hair.

We lay there in a drowsy silence for a while before I spoke up again.

“Dae?”

“Ah, you’re still awake? I was just thinking it might be safe for me to leave.”

I tightened my legs around one of his. His chest bounced again with a quiet laugh.

“What’s up?”

“Would you say yes if I chose you?”

My ear vibrated slightly as he hummed before answering.

“What do you think?”

“I can’t tell. You treat me well, but I think you probably treat everyone well.”

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed in agreement.

I loosened myself up from his body a little bit so that I could lean on my elbow to look at him.

“I think you flirt with me, but again…”

I paused. He had lifted a hand to brush my hair out of my face, intently watching me as I spoke. Seeing him pay such close attention, it made my heart ache somehow.

“But…?” He prompted me to continue.

“It seems like just part of your personality.”

“Even when I’m out of character?”

I groaned, letting my head fall back onto his chest.

“Can’t you just tell me yes or no?”

“I could, but I don’t want to influence you.”

“I’m asking though,” I wriggled my legs in annoyance, “I want to know.”

Was that true though? If I wanted to know, I now realized that I could probably just ask Chul. It would doubtless be the easier way to find things out. So why was I bothering with this back and forth?

Besides the fact that it was a little fun, that is.

“Come here,” Daesung moved under me. I sat up, only to have him put a hand on my arm. He slid back, sitting at an angle against the headboard and pillows, and gestured for me to come towards him again.

I tilted my head. Did I want to choose Daesung? This entire time I had been thinking of him as potentially a good hook-up, but nothing more intimate than that.

Which, maybe, was exactly what I needed. Something to flush my system of all my built up hormones and mixed feelings.

“Dae,” I shuffled to kneel next to him.

“Yes?”

“Forget the show choice for a second.”

“Okay,” he nodded slowly, eyes narrowing slightly.

“What about just right now?”

“What about it?”

“If I asked you to sleep here tonight, would you say yes?”

Daesung blinked a few times.

I waited, kneeling on my hands to stop myself from fidgeting.

Finally, Daesung tilted his head and chuckled again.

“Are you asking me to?”

I shrugged, “just answer the question.”

He paused again, this time washing his eyes over me. I realized that he was trying to figure out how serious I was.

You and me both, my dude.

“Come here,” he said softly.

I leaned forward slightly.

“No,” he shook his head, then patted a hand against his thigh, “come here.”

I freed my hands from under my knees, supporting myself as I leaned over him.

“Sit down,” another pat on his thigh.

Well, if he insisted.

I straddled his lap and sat up straight. I kept my eyes on him. The corner of his lip slid up slightly.

“So, if I asked you to stay here tonight…?” I left the sentence unfinished.

“I’ll stay as long as you'd like me to, pet.”

-----

My phone chimed.

Daesung grabbed my wrist when I reached for it, pulling my hand to press against his chest.

“It can wait,” he groaned.

“If it’s Jiyong, his next step is knocking on my door,” I explained, “and while we may be able to keep quiet, there are levels to that sort of thing.”

“Ugh, fine,” he let go of my wrist, instead grabbing my thighs to keep me from getting off of him.

From: Llyong Boho Are you back yet?

I sighed.

“What does he want?” Daesung asked.

“Probably this,” I snorted, glancing down to where Daesung was firmly inside me.

Daesung laughed, “you’re not wrong.”

To: Llyong Boho Yes. I’m hanging out with Daesung.

To: Llyong Boho Whatever it is, can it wait until tomorrow?

I leaned over and placed my phone back onto my bedside table.

“All good?”

“I think so,” I leaned down, quickly pressing my lips against his.

“Fuck,” he groaned at the motion, “this is not how I saw my night ending.”

“Me neither,” I sat back up and rocked against him slightly.

Daesung laughed again, then pressed his head back into the pillow with a sigh.

“Okay, okay okay… okay…”

“Okay?” I teased him.

“I have to… come here pet,” he grabbed both of my wrists, pulling me back down against his chest.

“I can’t take this much more,” his hands found my hair and he pulled me against his lips again.

“My turn,” he looked directly into my eyes, “okay?”

“Yes.”

He wrapped an arm around my waist. Lifting and rolling, he pulled me into position on the bed and quickly situated himself as well.

“Wait,” he grabbed one of the pillows and lightly tapped my thigh, “lift up for me pet.”

I lifted my hips and he put the pillow under them.

Just a few seconds later, he was leaning down and just barely tracing his teeth against the skin of my breast.

“God damn it, this is going to be embarrassing.”

“Hmm?” I gripped his hair, pulling him up my body so that I could taste his neck.

“I am not going to last much longer,” he groaned, “you feel so good on me pet.”

“That’s fine,” I reassured him, “we’re kind of already pushing our luck on privacy here.”

“True.”

-----

Daesung looked like he was about to melt into my mattress.

“Okay, so I know what I said,” I rolled onto my side to look at him, “but I don’t think you should actually sleep here.”

I started tracing invisible lines along his chest.

“Of course,” he nodded, “just let me,” he waved a hand, “you know.”

“You should at least get dressed,” I prodded him, “just in case.”

“I’ll get dressed when you do.”

“Fine then,” I stood up and almost immediately my knees buckled.

As if he had precognition, Daesung somehow was already sitting up to grab me and redirect my fall onto the bed.

“How did yo-”

“That usually happens,” he seemed a little embarrassed to say it.

“You slut,” I laughed.

“Excuse me?” Daesung feigned offense, “coming from you.”

I shrugged, then flopped down on the mattress.

“Dae-oppaa~” I whined.

“Yes, my pet?”

“Can you get my shorts for me?”

“Of course.”

-----

We were both fully clothed, and just hanging out showing each other things we were finding on our phones when Jiyong texted me again.

From: Llyong Boho Does it have to wait?

I leaned over and showed the message to Daesung.

“Ah,” he sighed, “I suppose he wants his turn.”

“Gross.”

“I didn’t mean like that,” he nudged me with his shoulder, “but he, you know, he likes you. He wants to spend time with you.”

I rolled onto my back and wriggled my way so that I was looking up into Daesung’s face.

“Do you not like me?”

“How can you even ask me that?” He leaned down and kissed me before continuing, “I’m just not possessive.”

“So nothing changes?”

“Not yet,” he smiled down at me, “not until you tell me that something has changed.”

“So you don’t get jealous?”

“I get insanely jealous," he traced a line under my chin with one finger as he spoke, "when it is appropriate to do so.”

“But…?” I urged him to continue.

“I know that we’re not dating. We haven’t made any promises to each other or anything like that. So,” he kissed me again, “there is nothing for me to be jealous about. Text Jiyong.”

I sat up and typed out a not exactly untruthful message.

To: Llyong Boho Yes. We're still hanging out.

I flashed the message to Daesung, who nodded, before I hit send.

“And you’re not going to say anything?”

“What would be the point of me saying something? Just to make people feel bad?”

“You can say Jiyong,” I teased.

Daesung rolled onto his side to fix me with an intense look.

“People,” he said again, emphasizing the plurality. “The only thing that I think will change is that now when I see you I’ll know all the hidden things you’ve done to your body.”

“Yah,” I warned him.

“I might flirt a little bit more,” he pushed himself to sit up, mirroring me, “now that I’m about… let’s say seventy percent sure that you like me a little bit.”

“Seventy? Isn’t that a little high?”

An expression that had just recently been shown to me for the first time flashed across his face.

“Kiss me, pet.”

I leaned forward and easily obliged.

“Again.”

I laughed, this time kissing his cheek.

My phone chimed.

“No no no no no,” he shook his head, “kiss me properly pet.”

I reached up with one hand and combed my fingers into his hair before kissing him again. When I pulled back, I tugged at his lip with my teeth.

“Eighty percent sure.”

“Anyway,” I rolled, both eyes and body, so that I could pick up the phone.

From: Llyong Boho I want to see you, if I can.

“I think he wants me to kick you out.”

“Fair enough,” Daesung hauled himself up from the bed, “it is a bit late for me to be in your room. Who knows what could happen.”

I tried to suppress a laugh.

“By the way,” he paused before opening the door, “yes.”

"Huh?"

"I would say yes."

-----

To: Llyong Boho Meet under the deck?

From: Llyong Boho Sure.

I slipped out of the sliding door. Relief washed over me to see that Jiyong was not already there.

I heard the soft whooshing creak of the door opening overhead, followed by slightly stilted footsteps crossing the deck and coming down the stairs.

"Jagiya?"

"Hmm?"

I could smell him as he approached. The waft of the cigarette in his hand, mixed with cologne and alcohol.

His steps were steady though, so maybe I was wrong.

I thought back to the last time we had been down here. How I had kissed him and left.

I suddenly found the smell of alcohol appealing, in a “ just one shot to steel my nerves” sort of way.

Jiyong leaned against one of the posts, just watching me as he took a drag on his cigarette.

Fine then.

“What’s up?”

He sighed, a long cloud issuing from his lips.

“It’s stupid,” he shook his head, “I’m jealous.”

“What is it this time?” I settled back against the glass that led into my room.

“If you’re tired and need someone to lean on,” he stared at the ground, “I want you to lean on me. That’s what I said, right?”

He laughed, shaking his head again.

“Stupid, like I said,” he finally looked up and met my eye again, “come upstairs with me.”

My eyes narrowed, causing Jiyong to give that self-deprecating laugh again.

“Sorry, I’ve been thinking too much.”

“What about?”

He looked down again. I could see his Adam's apple bob in his throat before he looked back up at me.

“Do you have any feelings left for me?”

As intensely as he had been avoiding eye contact before, he was staring at me now.

I thought of the last month. The grocery shopping, cooking together, spending nights just enjoying having a body next to me in bed, secret kisses, arguments, clothing, warnings…

“I don’t know if I really did to begin with,” I admitted.

Jiyong’s eyes flicked between mine. His eyebrows dipped, and a wry smile tugged at his lips.

“Wh… sorry, what?”

“No, Ji…” I immediately regretted the words. Pushing off the glass, I stepped towards him.

“I don’t mean…” I sighed.

“Then what do you mean?” His voice was sharp, slightly higher than usual. He also stood upright from where he had been leaning.

“Because it sounds to me,” he stepped forward, invading my space enough to make me step back and bump against the glass again, “like what you mean is that I’m the only one who felt anything.”

“Jiyah… I’m,” I shook my head, “I’m not saying that. I just mean that we haven’t really had time to know each other.”

“Time to…?” He hung his head forward as he said it, then shook it again. Rising his eyes to meet mine again, he continued, “I have made time. I even…” he stopped himself. Running his hands through his hair a few times, he gathered himself.

“Jiyo-”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” I insisted.

“No,” that laugh again, “it doesn’t. If you never had any feelings for me, none of this matters.”

“Jiyong,” I took his hand in mine, “listen to me.”

“What? What could you possi-”

I leaned forward and placed my lips on his. He pulled away almost immediately, but at least he was quiet now.

“I said to begin with.”

Jiyong breathed deeply a few times before saying anything else. I knew he would feel compelled to fill the silence, and I was glad to let him do it now that I had pointed out the distinction.

“And now?”

“Now?” I tilted my head, thinking of how to phrase how I felt, “there’s potential.”

“Potential?” He said it like he couldn’t believe I had the audacity.

“What the fuck do you want from me Jiyong? We barely know each other.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” he turned and leaned back against the glass next to me, “I just want you.”

“That’s everything, Ji.”

“Fine, then I want everything.”

We fell into silence, just standing side by side, feeling awful. I was tempted to ask him for a cigarette.

“Why do we keep having this conversation?” is what I asked instead.

“Because you are on my mind all the time,” Jiyong answered, “and I don’t know if I ever even cross yours.”

“Hmm,” I nodded, “you know, and man this is going to sound manipulative…”

Jiyong laughed, a real one this time.

“This whole jealous all the time thing is a pretty big red flag.”

“You’ve mentioned that. Actually,” Jiyong turned to look at my side profile, “you’re not the first woman to tell me that.”

“I need to sleep,” I sighed, “I have more dance filming tomorrow.”

“Come sleep with me.”

I turned my head to look at Jiyong. His eyes were trailing down my body, but lifted to meet mine. “Ji…”

“It was worth a try,” he shrugged.

Standing up straight, he stretched his arms and cracked his neck.

“Well, unless you have any other, um, interruptions to offer me, I guess I’ll head up.”

“Goodnight Jiyong.”

“Alright, alright,” he started towards the stairs, “at least I have potential, right?”

“Goodnight,” I carefully articulated the word.

Jiyong nodded one more time and climbed up the steps.

-----

I checked my phone when I got back into my room.

From: D-Lite I heard some raised tones, are you okay? From: D-Lite He didn’t… figure it out, right? To: D-Lite It’s fine. He just wants everything

I laid on my bed. I could smell Daesung’s cologne on my sheets.

From: D-Lite He gets like that when he likes someone From: D-Lite But you’re okay? To: D-Lite Yes To: D-Lite I am more than okay, actually

I took a picture of my rumpled sheets and sent it to him.

To: D-Lite [image] From: D-Lite If you start flirting with me right now I will come back down there. From: D-Lite And I will make sure that you can not keep quiet this time.

My cheeks immediately heated to approximately the same temperature as the surface of the sun.

To: D-Lite Noted. I will not flirt with you. To: D-Lite Right now.

I quickly set my phone to airplane mode and set it on its charger. Better not to push my luck.

[whump-a-la-mode]

Static and Sneezes

This is somewhat inspired by the fact that I spent last weekend laying around with an awful cold. Now that I’m well enough again to write, I figured I’d turn it into some good sickfic whump.

Hope you enjoy!

CW//Superhero whump, villain whumpee, sickness, respiratory disease, vomit (minor), mentions of past injury

Hero couldn’t help but grit their teeth against the noise. It was less like an audible thing; it was audible in the same way that electricity was. It wasn’t a noise, per se, but the movement of particles through the air assaulted the ears in its own way.

The sensation penetrated even all the way across the street, in their van. The dashboard lights were all that punctured the overwhelming darkness of the city streets, aside from the scattered streetlights, which the vehicle deliberately avoided as it screeched to a halt.

With a click and the groaning of a tired engine, Hero took the key from the ignition. Before the chassis had even settled against the axles, the driver’s side door was thrown open, then closed just as quickly, as a shadowed figure emerged from it and tore across the street.

The noise got horribly loud, the closer they got the worse it became. In tandem, the closer they got, the larger the building before them seemed to become. It spiraled into the air, a corrugation of steel and blue glass and well-hidden rivets.

A nearby streetlight sparkled against the heap of broken glass that had once been the front door. Villain was bold, they noted with a grunt.

As if synced to their thoughts (which it very well could have been, given the technology Agency flaunted about), a voice flashed in their earpiece:

“It’s looking like Villain is moving up to the third floor, now.” Handler spoke.

“What are they doing?” They tried to whisper, but regardless, their voice still seemed to echo in the silent street.

“No idea. The cameras are no good, the static knocks them out.”

“Then... how do you know where they are?”

Hero could almost hear the eye roll on the other end of the line.

“Wherever the cameras aren’t working, that’s where they are.“ The tone seemed to turn to one of concern. “When you go up there, you’re going to be cut off. Anywhere near Villain is a communication dead zone. Are you sure you’re okay with this? We can still send in a team...”

“No. Don’t send anyone.” Hero shook their head. “If we make too much noise, we’ll scare them off. We’re too close. I’m not losing this.”

“Are you sure?”

“I...” Hero bit their lip.

They didn’t even know Villain, not even their name. Not their real one, anyways. Nothing other than the codename Agency had filed them under. They weren’t like other villains. Sure, they were cocky and annoying and overall a danger to society, but they were different. Clever. They had no care for notoriety. They didn’t want the world to fear them or know their name.

More than that, they were careful. They never fought back. They were never there to fight back. By the time Agency made it to the scene, they would leave little more than a residual hum and a shattered window. Few had ever seen them. Fewer had heard their voice.

The thought made Hero bite their tongue. They weren’t going to let them keep getting away with this. They had hurt too many agents. Stolen so much. Caused so much damage. And no one even knew their name.

It ended tonight. The building, a Research and Development institute for a technology company, was built like a maze, and it was one that Villain wouldn’t be get out of this time. Not again.

Tonight was Hero’s big break. Tonight, they would win back their respect. Their reputation. Their confidence. Everything their injury had taken from them.

Finally, finally, they were going to be a hero again.

Without another moment of hesitation, they hurried towards the building. Their boots made the broken glass a trivial issue, and soon, they were in the building. 

From the lobby, hallways swirled and spiraled about like the tentacles of a great beast. But that was not their concern. For a moment, they considered using the elevator, before remembering that elevators, too, would be knocked out by Villain’s powers.

They curled their fists in annoyance, shrugged off their overcoat, and unfolded their wings.

The feathered limbs were beautiful things. Everyone seemed obsessed with saying so, from teammates to trainees to doctors. They had the coloring of a hawk (’a Black Chested Buzzard Eagle’ an overly chipper biology student had stated once), but stretched to a length of around twelve feet.

Oftentimes, Hero found themself wishing that their feathers were of a darker hue. They’d even considered dying them to be so. That way, the metal braces strapped to them wouldn’t be quite so obvious.

Still, in the dark of the building, no one would know. They moved to the stairwell, made a few light flaps, and launched upwards.

Generally, their wings were wonderfully silent things, hardly making the slightest sound as they beat against the air. However, with the metal pieces attached, they made a horrible grinding sound of metal on metal on feather.

It only took a few powerful flaps to carry them to the third floor, and they landed as quietly as they could on the steps. For a moment, they stood there, taking a deep breath.

“I’m going in.” They whispered into their earpiece. On the other end, they heard nothing more than a resigned hum.

Hero threw open the door.

The static burst unto them as if it were a physical thing, filling their ears and threatening to creep into the edges of their vision. They blinked a few times, gritting their teeth against the horrible noise. The stupid hum had knocked out the lights, but enough moonlight crept through the windows so that some things could be made out.

They spotted them.

Hero wasn’t sure what they’d expected. The description in the files was basic. Young, short, wears street clothes. And, all those descriptors were certainly correct.

But none of them described the sheer shock present on the thief’s face. For a moment, the shock turned to fear, then fear to fury. They stepped back, as if steadying themself, as a swirling form of static grew around one hand. It appeared almost like the static on a television screen when turned to the wrong channel, but in physical form and morphed into a three dimensional object.

Hero had no idea what would happen if they got hit with that thing, but they weren’t exactly keen to find out.

“Villain.” They spoke the criminal’s codename in the deepest, most official voice they could manage. “You are under arrest. Place your hands behind your head and-”

It was difficult to describe how static, in physical form, moved through the air. It was almost like a swarm of insects, all joined in purpose and being. Of course, Hero’s instincts didn’t care about that. Before they had even realized what was coming towards them, they had dove out of the way, crashing into the tile floor.

“Why won’t you jerks just leave me alone!”

The reaction was fierce, seemingly built up after a considerable amount of rage had simmered for a considerable amount of time. Or maybe it would fear? It looked...it felt a little too much like fear.

“I don’t want to hurt you!” Hero growled, scrambling to their feet. “But if you attack me, I’ll have to resort to it.”

“Just stop! Leave me-”

Villain seemed to cut themself off. Hero was unsure, for a moment, as to why, until they heard the fit of coughing break through the sea of static. They stumbled, as if the coughing had thrown off their balance completely. When the hacking was at last finished, they gasped for breath, in a way that sounded almost like they were gurgling.

“Leave me alone.” They finished, straightening themself.

In the time that the coughing fit had allotted them, Hero had taken a flashlight from their belt-- specifically an older model, one that had no need of radio or internet or anything of the like. They held it up, shining it on Villain’s face. They recoiled at the light.

“What are you doing here?” Hero intended for their voice to sound threatening, or at least official, but it came out with far more concern than malice.

The flashlight’s beam illuminated Villain’s face, even as they attempted to block it with a hand. Their eye sockets had a hollow, sunken quality to them, only accentuated by the redness of the eyes themselves. The redness blossomed out to the rest of their face, all the way up to their ears. From their forehead, sweat bloomed and fell down their jaw in droves.

It was a horrible picture of disease.

“I could ask you the same question.” The coughing seemed to have done a number on their voice, as the words came out croaky and strained. They picked up something from the floor that they had seemingly dropped. “Now, if you would leave me the hell alone, I think it’d be great for the both of us.”

“No.” Hero shook their head, taking a step closer. Another ball of static formed on Villain’s hand, but it did not deter them. “You’re coming with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re going to the hospital, if I have to drag you there with my own two hands.”

Villain looked up at that, clutching their item close to their chest. They weren’t frightened, at least not in the immediate moment. Instead, they seemed incredibly confused.

“You’re sick. Have you seriously not noticed?”

“I don’t know what game you’re playing here, but I don’t have time for it. Move away from the door, and I’ll be on my way, kapish?”

Hero glanced to the door behind them. If Villain got to it, there was likely no stopping them from leaving the building entirely, and disappearing back to wherever they had come from.

“Not a chance.”

Villain’s lips curled in a way indicating that they were about to retort with another cocky remark, when another bout of coughing attacked them. This one brought them to their knees, forcing them to brace themself against the floor. Onto the tiles below, they spat up a horrid looking green liquid.

That was it. Hero clenched a fist, stalking over to the other side of the room and kneeling down beside the sickly villain (taking care not to touch whatever they had just coughed up.) As they recovered, they tried to fight, but were no match.

The click of cuffs sounded as Hero secured Villain’s wrists behind their back. With the leverage the cuffs gave them, Hero brought them to their feet-- though they did so gently.

With one hand, they kept hold of the cuffs, while with the other, they placed a palm upon Villain’s forehead. Even before they touched skin, they could feel the heat radiating off of them.

“You’re under arrest. But first, you’re going to the doctor.”

[crazymisscarly]

on today’s episode of essay-length hot takes nobody asked for:

So I freak out and internally implode whenever ~bughead~ doesn’t let their ship set sail as much as the next person, but I’ve been (over) thinking about it and maybe doing all this weird ‘everyone breaking up and going to the person they dont really work with’ is actually a good thing in the long run.

Not saying I like it, in fact I have approximately seven fanfics that deeply demonstrate HOW MUCH i don’t like it, but this is the canon storyline we’ve got.

Since the writers clearly want to drag it all out for as long as possible because they… want to (their choice, its their work of art, we can only glare at it from afar), perhaps they’re trying to go full circle and prove that couples like bughead, varchie, choni and even kangs are the ones that will work out in the end.

here’s my reasoning:

Yes, I have scrolled as fast as humanly possible through my dashboard to avoid the jughead and tabitha gifs, and earlier today learned that they sang ‘perfect for you’ and my immediate reaction, after I’d finished mourning their platonic friendship, was just *vomit emoji*. But, then I saw the lyrics to perfect for you…. And it sounds like Jughead is trying to change himself into being someone ‘perfect’ so that tabitha will like him. That just doesn’t strike me as either healthy or long lasting. He shouldn’t HAVE to change himself to be in a relationship with Tabitha. Get better, yes, because he’s recovering, but change himself??? They were good friends, they worked well as a team, but in none of those interactions did he try to change himself to make her happy. So why is he now??

And take Fangs and Toni for a moment - they just had a baby together, and they’re apparently in love after one episode (hey if it works for barchie and veggie then why not -.-), but really, aren’t they doing this because they work well as a team and are starting to think ‘maybe we can be a perfect little happy family’???

And Veronica and Archie (won’t lie didn’t watch the musical ep so can’t be sure) broke up because they see themselves doing different things in life (?) and veronica wants to go back to New York. And she wants to work on herself (valid)  and for some reason goes back to Reggie the sister-swapping gigolo next ep (whom she made THIS face at when she found out:

But I digress.)

With this in mind, I would assume Veronica is fearful that, like she lost herself in her relationship with Chad, she’ll lose herself in her relationship with Archie because he isn’t a big time New York City high roller like Reggie must want to be. So she’s hoping that maybe Reggie, who she works well with in a team, could be the one for her.

Now, Betty and Archie…. My soul shivers with cold despair as I even type this, but let’s humour them for a second. Archie is upset that veronica has left him, betty has been shown to use sex as a coping mechanism to avoid her trauma, makes sense they might start their FWB situation again, right??

Except…

Betty is devastated by the loss of her sister and needs to stay in Riverdale, Archie needs to stay in riverdale because he has 673 jobs there, and both of them have shit they want to move on from or be distracted from - they’ve been shown to work well (dare i say it?) as a team, and they’re apparently good friends with each other, so why not give dating a go since their first choices (and make no mistake, Veronica is Archie’s first choice and Jughead was Betty’s first choice) are unavailable and they’re both depressed, traumatised and lonely??

So this should all be just fine and dandy, then right?? Everyone’s happy with their friends-to-lovers relationships, they can frolic blissfully in Pickens park with the loves of their lives shouting “Go teamwork!” Because this is the height of passion! Right??

No.

None of the above mentioned ships have achieved anything more than showing that the characters are SETTLING for the relationships that are ‘second’ best because they’ve come to the conclusion that this is safer than going for the ones they really love. You can’t get burned by your second choice because they don’t hold your heart in their hands - after all, you haven’t truly given it to them.

So if all goes to what I think (hope) is the plan, then by the end of this mysterious 5 episode event, most of these ships should have realised that their relationships are all just relationships of convenience. They aren’t passionate about each other. They are trying to force themselves into a ‘perfect’ relationship that suits what they think they need.

But inevitably: 

Betty will realise that nobody understands her like Jughead. Nobody else lets her feel vulnerable and shows her its okay to open up. Jughead will realise he doesn’t have to change himself to suit a relationship, and he and Tabitha can still be friends - Betty accepted his darkness for what it was, and he loved her even when she showed him hers.

Veronica will realise that she doesn’t have to give up being who she is, even if she chooses to live in Riverdale. And she doesn’t need to be with another Hiram-Lodge wanna be - she loves the small town boy who tries to be good rather than rich. She sees the value in his desire to help others, and HE sees her passionate nature and refusal to give up when she knows something is right!

Toni and Fangs will part amicably as happy little coparents, and i’m sure Kevin and Cheryl will eventually sort their shit out - what’s beautiful about these four though, is that they’ve been working on themselves all season and have actually spoken to each other a fair bit. I’m not even going to pretend to know whats up with Cheryl, but she at least leaves Thornhill occasionally now, and while I don’t know how its going to happen, i’m sure kangs and choni will rise.

On that note, fangs still doesn’t know kevin wanted to win him back, so that can be some actual tension between the characters in the coming episodes.

So where does that leave Tabitha and Reggie?

I can see it going two ways:  1. Tabitha franchises pops diner and moves back to Chicago where she doesn’t need no man, and Reggie keeps being a little philanthropist car salesman (possibly still hooking up with veronica’s sister) 2. #Teggie rising??? 

They’re both very driven people, both business-minded, both excited about the opportunities life has to offer AND they’ve both been shown to be incredibly ambitious. 

They’ve hardly interacted this entire season…. Maybe the writers are Saving a sneaky little surprise for when all the main ships get back together??

We can hope.

Anyway, I wrote this instead of an overdue essay (a real one for my masters degree) so i’m gonna leave my theories in the tumblr void for the time being. Let me know what you think :)

[simplysummers]

Hi :)

About a month ago I got a bunch of asks asking me to test my ‘dashboard osmosis’, and try to give a summary/brief paragraph about my thoughts on a few fandoms that I’ve seen floating around tumblr recently. Out of the six asks, I’m only involved in one of the fandoms, so please take this with a pinch of salt. All is meant in good fun and I’m not here to judge or ridicule anyone for their interests (I’m a Star Wars geek for goodness sakes, that’d be very hypocritical of me) I thought it would be easier to answer these all in one post, spare spamming my mutuals with my nonsensical ramblings.

@esquire-chicken

Hey bestie. I am HERE to deliver.

Okay so for the Loki fandom, I get the vibe a LOT of you are LGBT+, so many people have been raving about Loki being a confirmed bisexual and as much as I can’t stand this man (I’m sorry!!) I’m honestly here for it. We love to see the rep. I also saw lots of people raving about him being a confirmed hero, so, I guess that’s cool too? Yay?

I feel like this fandom can be a little defensive, which is highkey terrifying, but I suppose we all have our faves. But i want yall to drink some water and…idk play with chalk for an hour from time to time.

@treasureofmy-heart

I know absolutely NOTHING about Six of Crows, but from your dash I know that Jesper is a big favourite. He seems like a cool dude, maybe a bit mentally unstable but cool nonetheless. I like Wylan’s aesthetic! Is he gay? He seems kinda gay…. Oh and Nina is absolutely beautiful. I feel like everyone in the fandom fancies her but she’s just a powerhouse bitch who ain’t taking shit from anyone. I can’t really explain this but I feel like your fandom has some extremely talented artists. Like the art you’ve reblooged is phenomenal.

Hey anon 😎 I’m not going to lie I had to Google what the desticule was because I’m uncultured as fuck, and then I realised it’s related to Supernatural which I STILL know nothing about, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.

But I can safely say yall are BATSHIT INSANE AND I LOVE YALL FOR IT. didn’t you guys take over tumblr at one point??? Like weren’t people who hadnt even seen Supernatural spewing random facts like possessed puppets? Yall are demons and I just adore every single one of you for it. Didn’t that one guy Jensen steal the show or something? Like what an icon. I know nothing about him but I stan. You guys have my eternal gratitude just for existing.

@quillsink

Chandler should’ve been confirmed bisexual that is all I have to say. I know absolutely nothing about Joey but I am a Chanoey shipper through and through because of you. Like yes. Phoebe is a queen and I love her with every fibre to my being, I feel like she is an underappreciated icon and deserves more attention. Uhmmm let me thinkkkk, Ross is a questionable dude and not a lot of people like him, aaaaand Monica needs a cup of coffee, as does half of your fandom :) I know this said more about the show rather than the fandom, but I feel as though these are common beliefs amongst you all.

@lirinck2

Bestie I have absolutely NO idea what this show is about but I LOVE their fashion sense, I feel like that’s a really big people pleaser amongst the fandom. A lot of the characters seem to have deep trauma from what I’ve seen, and I think that might resonate with a lot of its fans (lmao ‘cause same), alongside the fact it seems under appreciated and accepted in its time. The dark and eerie mystery settings give off a thriller fandom vibe, and I’m honestly intrigued. I legit want to watch this show. You’ve got me hooked.

Ahh last but certainly not least. I’m not going to touch upon the Hamilton fandom because my opinion in that regard is well known enough as it is, but for the amrev fandom, I can say 10000%, we are all absolutely fucking ridiculous (affectionately).

I mean, you have your factual posters like Amanda, Julia, Elle, Byrd, Sarah, Sev, and I (from time to time), alongside this you have your slightly loopy but absolutely loveable fanfic writers/artists like Ink, Hannah, Polly, Ray, Tori, Clair, Sofia, Rose, and Lin. We’re all quite vibey, a little crazy and very homosexual, but yknow, we get by.

*sigh* but then I bring thee down to….the shitposters who actually terrify me and deserve exorcisms; Kit, Lisa, Hayhay, every Alex ever, Su, Mellisa Tracyn, Jon, honestly this list is just endless here. Yall scare me and I’m actually in awe of that fact. We’re a very diverse fandom, as you can tell. You guys NEVER know what this bunch will come up with, they’re a ticking time bomb and it’s great, they keep us on our toes. Love you guys.

-

Lmao I hope did your fandoms justice, and like I said, none of this is to be taken seriously, it’s all in good fun!

[megthemewlingquim]

This Is Your Wilderness

Summary: You learn new things about the world you have entered, both the easy way and the harder way.

Pairing: Adam x Reader

Warnings: foul language (it’s a given for Adam), violence, angst

A/N: This is for @just-the-hiddles 's 3500 Follower Writing Challenge! The prompt was Bliss: A shot of pure, self-indulgent euphoria! A scent that is very, very wicked in its own way: the serotonin-slathered scent of pure milk chocolate. This turned out to be much more angsty than I expected, and you can thank @empower-bi-women​ for that little nudge. This is also an AU where Ian never died.

“Adam, don’t be so paranoid. No one has come around for ages.”

The tall, dark figure at the window sighs. His fingers had only moved the curtain for a second, and he had peeked out and looked down, but now he shifts, lets the curtain fall again. His eyes glint in the dim lighting, and they seem black. “Yeah, but I’m still worried,” he mumbles.

“I could try and get them to stay away,” you say lightly, a suggestion you know will fail tremendously. “Say it’s all fake, what with you and your reclusiveness.�� You fiddle with a chess piece, a white rook, in your right hand, glancing back up at Adam. “It’s no trouble.”

“You’re the only zombie I trust now, you know that.” Adam moves back over to where you sit cross-legged on the floor. “You’re all I have. I’ll be damned if I let you go out there alone.”

He sits back down across from you, eyeing his own black chess pieces. Currently, he is down two pawns. “Besides, if the Others find out about you, they’ll… fuck, they’ll kill you. They’d kill you and leave me alone. Because they’d want me to suffer.”

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches. Adam never speaks about the “Others” — at least, never more than a mention of the name.

“Why?” you ask. “Why would they want that?”

“Because I don’t care about their fucking wars. The zombies cause enough trouble as it is. When the vampires and werewolves started their clans, I was not there to join them. I was... I was actually trying to settle down with someone.”

“That’s why you’re in hiding? Because you love?”

“I love, yes. I love and I care and I don’t just survive. This isn’t the goddamn 14th century anymore. I don’t just drink someone and throw their body in a ditch. I get my blood from hospitals. That is if it isn’t fucking... contaminated.” Adam winces. “That’s how Marlowe died.”

“Wait, who’s Marlowe?” you ask. “Was he a friend of yours? Another vampire like yourself?”

He smiles, an amused hum leaving him. “Yeah, he was a friend. Eve knew him longer than I did but we were friends. He was a visionary, an absolute genius. He wrote most of Shakespeare’s plays, y’know.”

You have to take a second to process this, and another to make the timeline match up. “You don’t mean the Christopher Marlowe?”

“He was one of Shakespeare’s biggest influences... and one of Shakespeare's real writers.” Adam smiles. “He really died a couple of years ago. Blood poisoning from a French hospital.”

“Is that why you only use me for your blood?” you ask softly. He nods. You look down, realizing the severity of it all. “So no drugs, huh?” you ask jokingly.

He laughs, a small amused chuckle. “Yeah, no. Drugs... if you’re still helping me out, are off limits. The occasional coffee is okay.”

“‘S okay with me.” You shrug. “As long as you stay safe.”

“And I can say the same to you,” Adam says, coming back over to sit beside you. He brings you close, resting his chin on your head and cuddling you from behind. “All I’d ever want is for you to be safe. Which is why I can’t have you talking to the Others... or anyone who might know them. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I do.”

After a long pause, you perk up.

“We should go to the store.” You glance at the electric clock, which reads 1:43 AM. “I’m sure some convenience stores are open. Do you need anything?”

“You ask me that every time we go,” Adam mumbles amiably. “I don’t need anything, no, but I’ll go with you if you want.”

And so you go.

All you get at the end of the trip is a loaf of bread, a gallon of milk, and some milk chocolate bars (an essential in your opinion). 

“I’ll go for my actual shopping tomorrow,” you say, getting the gallon out of the freezer. 

The air is cold all through the tiny store, and the surprisingly satisfying scent of beer cooler is all around you. Adam wears his sunglasses and gloves, and looks around the shelves. He has nothing in his hands.

He glances at you. “Okay,” he says hesitantly, standing quite rigidly.

When you step up to the counter, the cashier looks suspiciously at Adam, who stands behind you, looking at a beer bottle: it has a tiny little Dracula on it. He is reading the flavor: blood orange.

It seems like the cashier had not heard the two of you talking, but had only seen you look at each other.

“Is this man here, uh, bothering you, miss?” he whispers.

You do not see it, but Adam’s head lifts, just a little.

“N-no,” you say, trying to make your voice as firm as possible. “No, I’m with him, actually.”

The cashier nods. “Uh huh,” he had said, not sounding convinced at all.

Adam comes up to accompany you at the register. Even through his glasses, you can see that his gaze is piercing. “She’s with me. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’d like to leave.”

Maybe it’s something about Adam’s gaze or his dark tone: the cashier looks slightly worried, but he does what he was told. In a few seconds, you are out, Adam following closely behind you.

“Don’t want anyone coming close to my girl,” he mutters, his breath steaming in the crisp air. “Even if he means well. We’re out in the open now. And I can’t take any chances.”

Without saying anything in response, you both make it into Adam’s car, your little plastic bag sitting peacefully near your legs. Adam turns the key and the car rumbles to a start, and he is just about to shift into drive when he looks up.

He freezes, nostrils flaring in anger. His grip on the shift tightens, and your eyes go from his gloved hand to the dashboard, to see what he sees.

As if on cue...

There are three middle aged men in front of the car, almost completely shrouded by the darkness. The sides of their faces are lit up from the left by the white light of the store’s inside.

Their eyes seem black, and their faces are deathly pale.

“Stay in the car,” Adam hisses, his voice dark and angry.

“Adam—” you try to protest.

“Stay. In. The fucking. Car.” Adam’s teeth are gritted, and his voice gets even angrier, if that’s possible, but he never takes his eyes off of the three men in front of you.

“Wh-what are they going to do? Wh-wh-who are they?” you ask, stammering.

“Lock the doors,” is all he says.

He takes the key out of the ignition. The car stops its rumbling. He opens his driver door and steps out, placing the key in his back jean pocket. He shuts the door behind him.

“Adam!” you whisper, knowing he can still hear you. “Adam, get back here! We can just drive away.”

You see him mouth something: No.

You lock the doors.

Your ears are unable to pick up what they all say: but I will fill in the details.

One of the men steps forward, his white teeth showing in a sickly sweet smile. “Adam,” he says, welcoming in tone. “It’s been a while. When was it we last saw each other, hmm? 1805?”

“Walter… Henry… Jesse,” Adam says quietly, nodding at each of the men. “It has been a while, yes.”

The first man — Walter — glances toward you, and winks. “We've come to talk to you about enlisting. But... this is much more interesting. What’cha got there, huh? A little mouse?”

The name is not positive, nor is it cute. With Adam, it would be. But, right now…

You’re already petrified. From a wink, and a bittersweet smile. 

Your heart pounds.

You know, then, that they can hear it. All of them. They can hear your heart racing, the blood rushing through it. They can probably see you shaking, hear the breath leaving your mouth in trembling whispers.

Adam. Adam, run.

“She’s no one,” Adam says darkly. “She...found out about me. I have to kill her. She can’t know about me. About us.”

“How did she find out?” asks another man. Quite tall, nice looking, with light brown hair and stubble at the jaw and cheeks. A gold chain is around his neck, and he wears a brown jacket and white t-shirt. He is also pale, extremely pale, just like his friends, and his eyes seem black.

“There was a friend of mine who broke the confidentiality agreement. That friend is dead now. I killed him, too. But she also has to go.”

“Did she tell anyone?”

“No, Jesse, she didn’t.”

“Good,” the third man — Henry — says. He looks nice, too. Black hair, olive skin. He looks a little older than Jesse or Walter, though. “We can’t let that happen, now, can we?”

“Hey…” Walter says, getting an idea. His smile is not a good one. “Why don’t we help you out? She’s gonna die anyway, isn’t she?”

Adam, by all means, should say yes. It would give him some more time to banter, to discuss horrible ways of torture and death. It would help to keep your cover. He should shrug, say yes, and let you out of the car. Then, he should rip the other three vampires to shreds.

But he doesn’t.

Adam growls — and though you are not able to hear it, you can see his expression. It is hunger, it is defiance, and it is anger. “You are not to touch her. She’s mine: mine to kill, mine to torture — ”

“Yours to marry, yours to love?” Walter asks, mockingly. “Yours to fuck?”

Adam freezes.

“Nobody we know — you least of all — would ever get that protective of a fuckin’ zombie. What are you not telling us, Adam?”

“Get the fuck away from us,” Adam snarls, suddenly furious. “I don’t want any part in your little wars — and neither does she.”

“So you’re admitting it,” Jesse says, almost excitedly. “You love her, don’t you? That's what this is about?”

“That, and the fact that that he hasn't joined a clan in his entire existence,” Walter murmurs over to Jesse. “We discussed that already.”

“I told you once, I’ve told you a million times: I don’t want to be involved with you,” Adam groans.

“You know it’s frowned upon. Both things,” Jesse says.

“A vampire hasn’t mated with a zombie in centuries. And you remember how that went, don’t you?” Walter takes a singular step forward.

Adam’s eyes narrow. “Don’t,” he growls, his voice practically dropping a whole octave with anger.

“It’s only for the good of our survival, Adam. You mustn’t blame us,” Henry says, a mad glint in his eye.

The next five seconds happen with lightning speed. You only recognize the sound and feel of broken glass when it hits you, and a bloodied hand unlocks the door. You blink, it seems, and you’re suddenly pulled roughly out of the car and onto the cold pavement below. Then, you’re hoisted up into someone’s grasp, and into standing position. They still hold you tightly and roughly, and their grip is harsh. A cold hand is slapped onto your mouth.

You scream through it, though, your voice muffled and frantic.

In an instant, Adam’s alert, animalistic, beastly. He growls again, and spits out, “You will not harm her!”

“Adam, what are they doing?” you pant frantically through the hand covering your mouth, knowing that he can hear it loud and clear.

“We’re gonna fuckin’ skin you alive,” the one holding you whispers, gripping you even tighter when you flail and whimper in fear.

“No, you won’t,” Adam murmurs. “Let her go.”

“How do you think this’ll go, Adam?” Henry asks. “You think you’re gonna come out on top? You think you’re gonna stay away from our destiny? You need to help us, Adam. You need to be a good soldier and join us in the wars.”

“I’ll die first!” spits Adam.

“No. You won’t. But she will... whether you say yes or no. Because you’ve gone against our code anyway. Being with... and mating with... a mortal. Now, Adam, you’re better than this.” Henry’s tone becomes condescending. 

Adam’s eyes glint with offense and anger. “If you say one more word, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Not if we kill her first.”

You hear something, then. The breathy sigh of someone holding you... it sounds like a grin. A hungry grin.

You’ve heard that noise before. It happens whenever Adam drinks blood... yours included.

Your stomach drops to your feet.

A childish, delusional part of you wants to say something. Hey, ya want some chocolate? We got some in the car, it smells really good! Really sweet! Sweeter than blood!

You go mad, flailing and screaming, trying desperately to escape, but the one holding you keeps you in his grasp.

“It’s dinnertime,” Henry says, and his voice is a growl.

The next ten seconds happen in a blur. You hear several whooshing noises, feel light brushes of wind all around you, and see blurs of black, white, and gray all around you. You also hear growling — feral, ferocious, angry growls.

You land on the pavement, scraping your knees. Not enough to draw blood, but they sting all the same. In a frantic rush, you scramble as far away from the fight as possible. And that is what it is — a fight. A fight between four —

Three vampires. One of them has dropped to the ground in a heap. You fight the urge to vomit when you notice his head is at an extremely abnormal angle. It is not Adam, however.

Adam was the one, you realize, that has broken the vampire you don’t know to be Jesse’s neck. Adam is lunging, swiping, roaring at the other vampires, who are doing the same. They dodge each other’s grasping hands and punches. You can see flashes of white in the middle of this: fangs.

“Go!” Adam screams, and the breath leaves your lungs. You’ve never heard Adam shout. His voice has never risen above an indoor voice or a menacing mutter.

“Not without you!” you cry desperately. “Adam, they’ll kill you!”

“RUN!” 

This time, you know there’s no argument to be had. You run as fast as you can away from the scene, tears stinging your eyes and your legs burning with the effort.

Eventually, you have to stop your running and settle for walking on the cracked sidewalks. Something howls as the night grows deeper and darker. Fortunately, you know the way home, and you also know that whatever is out there, howling at the moon, will not hurt you. Adam made sure of that one.

You’re a lone figure, shrouded in darkness, walking back to safety with cold arms and stinging knees. Occasionally, you glance behind your shoulder, but you don’t see anything.

After a long while, you start to hear the rumble of a car’s engine driving up behind you. You look behind you and see that this car is driving quite close to the sidewalk. Moving further to your right, you avoid it — that is, until it slows to your walking pace and stays beside you. Keeping your head down, you try to walk a little faster. The car, you notice, looks a bit like Adam’s, but it is not. Your heart pounds, and you almost start to run when a car window is rolled down, and —

“Hey — what’re you doin’ out here?” A soft voice. He sounds like he’d be a surfer in another life.

You recognize it. “I-I-Ian?” you stammer, your eyes widening. You turn to the car and exhale a sob of complete relief. It is Ian, driving slowly beside you and looking at you with the utmost concern.

Ian has known you for a long while, ever since you started dating Adam. He has always been sweet, kind, and considerate, and has always been a good friend to the both of you.

“Y-yeah,” Ian says softly, “what... what’s the matter, sweetheart? You ok?”

You shake your head. “No,” you mutter. “A-Adam got into some trouble. We were attacked in the parking lot of some shitty convenience store. He t-t-told me to run, and I did. R-Reluctantly.” 

“Holy shit...that’s fucked up,” Ian says incredulously. He leans “Is Adam still there?”

You feel tears rising to your eyes again and you sniff. “I don’t know where he is... or if he’s ok, and — and — I don’t wanna go home and wait and find out that —” Your voice is dangerously close to cracking.

“Hey,” Ian says, his voice a little firmer now. It still keeps its compassion. “Y’want me to take you home?”

“Would you?” you ask desperately.

“Of course, sweetheart, come on in.” He leans over and, with a little grimace of exertion, unlocks and opens the door. You can't get into the car fast enough. You slam the door beside you and slump against the seat.

“We're gonna get you home, ok? It's not far from here. Want me to turn the heater on?”

You drive in silence for most of the trip. Ian must know you don't want to talk too much.

Ian's head comes into your peripheral vision. You're looking down at your feet.

“Hey... Adam's gonna be fine,” he says softly. “He can take care of himself. Something about him just tells me that. My guess is that he's driving home now, actually. He probably fucking destroyed whoever did this to you.”

You nod. You know it's true.

“He cares about you a lot. He loves you. I've... I've never seen Adam look at someone the way he looks at you. Well, maybe except his wife. But... that was some time ago. And she—”

He stops himself. You can both feel the tension there, and you shuffle nervously in your seat.

“Anyway,” Ian continues hesitantly, “he — he cares about you. He'll come back, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

You get to the house, Ian driving slowly up to the curb. The house, as always, is dark.

“Check the back?” you ask. Ian drives further, and you crane your neck to eye the garden. There's an empty spot where the car normally would be.

Your heart sinks.

“Hey, sweetheart...” Ian says. “It's alright... I'm sure he's just...” But he trails off. “A fight wouldn't take this long,” he mutters under his breath. You can still hear it.

There's a pause in which none of you move. You're hesitant to get out of the car and into the house. Ian watches you, waits for you. The rumble of the car is quiet and hypnotic.

“I don't... I don't wanna go in alone,” you say, and you inwardly scoff at your own childishness.

“I can stay with you if you want,” Ian says. “Adam mostly leaves his doors unlocked, doesn't he?”

“Yeah.”

“Why is that?”

You hesitate. “I don't know.”

But you do know. Regular people are pretty much out of the question — they wouldn't come in, because they think the house is abandoned. If they do come in, Adam could play it off as nothing suspicious and get them to leave as soon as possible. The werewolves wouldn't hurt you, and vampires suffer awfully bad luck if they enter a threshold uninvited. If the Others did come in, well... Adam could take care of them, couldn't he?

“Maybe it's because he's all reclusive. He probably doesn't think anyone will actually come in. Those rock 'n roll kids are exactly that. Kids. They won't do anything.”

You nod. “Er... could you stay with me, Ian? Please?”

He smiles. “Yeah,” he says. “I can do that.”

Ian parks the car on the edge of the road, and shuts off the engine. The cold seeps in your skin again and reaches your bones.

You both get out of the car and walk up to the door. It opens without any struggle.

The house itself is completely dark, and there's no sign of Adam anywhere. The room upstairs — Adam's studio — is completely silent and dark, and he's not in his bed.

Without any words, you two go into his studio again and turn on some lights. Together, you sit on his couch and wait.

After some time, Ian sits up suddenly.

“Oh, shit! We should've called the cops!” Ian cries.

You shake your head. “No,” you say.

Ian looks at you, baffled.

“Ian, Adam's... not one for the police. And, like we said before, Adam can take care of himself. He's strong like that. I'm sure he's...” you trail off. “I'm sure he's fine.”

“Did they have any weapons on them?”

“I don't think so,” you say, remembering the flashes of pointy white teeth.

“Then, what the hell happened afterward? Why isn't Adam back yet? If they didn't have any weapons, and you know Adam can throw a punch and take care of himself, then why the hell isn't he back yet?”

“I don't know,” you say miserably. A part of you thinks Ian is somehow mad at you, but the rational part of you takes over, and decides that he is not.

Ian pauses.

“Fuck it, I'm calling the cops.”

“No,” says a voice behind you. It is sharp and commanding, but you recognize it in a heartbeat.

You turn to look. Standing in the doorway, all battered, bruised, bloodied, is Adam. His sunglasses are nowhere to be found, and neither are his gloves.

“Oh, my God,” you whimper, rushing toward him. Immediately, you're engulfed in his scent, his warmth, his comforting embrace. It's a rush of relief. “You're — you're okay,” you whisper, sniffing as tears of relief come to your eyes.

“Baby, it's alright,” Adam murmurs, “I'm here. I'm here and I'm okay. It's all OK. We're fine.” He rubs your back with a hand.

“Adam, what the fuck happened, man?” Ian asks. “We were worried sick.”

“I'm sorry,” Adam says. “That took way longer than expected. I was also questioned by the authorities. They're looking for the kids now.”

Something tells you that this is not what happened.

Ian looks at Adam skeptically. But, after a few seconds, he shrugs. “I mean... I'm just glad you're alright, man. And I'm glad she's safe, too.” He gestures toward you with a small smile.

“Thank you, Ian,” Adam says gratefully. “Thank you for keeping my love safe. Thank you for staying with her. Now... I think it's time for you to go... Do you need anything before you take off? You can piss in the garden if you need.”

“You sure you don't need anything? You wanna take a look at those bruises?”

“We'll be fine, thank you,” Adam says.

Ian blinks. “You never fail to amaze me, Adam.” He stands up, and rubs your shoulder. “G'night, sweetheart. You're in very good hands now.”

“Thanks, Ian. See you soon, ok?” you say.

“Alright.” He starts to walk down the stairs. “If you guys need anything at all, just hit me up. Later.”

You and Adam don't speak until you both hear his car driving away from the house.

“What did they do to you?” you ask immediately, suddenly frantic and worried, stepping away to get a good look at Adam.

You blink, it seems, and Adam's bruises, cuts, and overall tired appearance are gone. He looks perfectly normal now.

“They did that,” Adam says. “I killed two of 'em. One of them got away.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“No, thank God for that.”

But there's something... off... about the way Adam looks. He seems sad, worried.

“Adam... what is it?” you ask slowly.

“One of the Others got away. He's bound to have talked to his clan by now. I'm still not gonna join them. And I'm sure as hell not gonna give you away and leave you.”

“So... what's gonna happen?”

Adam takes a deep breath. “How do you feel about Tangier, Morocco?”