#other music blogs that know more about this than I do should explain it better (:

[torn-between-horn]

Tf is the Difference between an Alto and Tenor clef

-New French Horn Player

So, I'm probably not the best person to ask this, because I don't really know, but from some quick research:

The alto clef is used primarily for viola, and middle C is place slightly differently,

And the tunnel clef is used for instruments like trombone and bassoon, and places its middle C differently.

Because I'm really bad at explaining placement, Here you go!

Also, here's some acronyms I made on the spot for if you ever decide that these cleffs are the way to go!

Alto: "I like your FACEG!" "Good boys don't frolic"

Tenor: "I DFACE a lot of property dude!" " Euphonium's got big dumptrucks."

[manicpixiedreamcurl]

The More You Give ❧ (Part IV)

Pairing | Eddie x reader

Warnings | 18+ minors and blank blogs don’t interact, bullying, once again Eddie flirts with bullies, sex shaming, discussions of anxiety, dom!eddie increasingly present, fingers in mouths and other places, oral (f and m receiving), first time blow job, cum eating (a theme of this story now as much as shyness, apparently). New named characters, hopefully it’s clear who’s important and who’s not.

Word count | ~11,700

A/N | I’m late! It’s late. Thank you for the patience and the very encouraging messages. It’s wonderful to hear that people are enjoying this fic. 

Taglist

Previous Chapter

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Your fingers twist and pull at your scrunchie, turning the stretchy patterned cotton around your wrist. You think about May’s face; one you know better than anyone else’s. Long eyelashes, pink smile; friendly and warm. You can keep her that way if you just say everything right. 

Eddie is kind to me, you imagine yourself explaining. I like him and I want you to give him a chance. 

You hum as you cross the street, not entirely happy with how that sounds.

Eddie is kind to me. That works. I think it would be really nice if you’d speak to him, so you could see how wonderful he is.

You chew your lip. You are getting ahead of yourself. Even if, by some miracle, you can explain properly, even if May accepts that Eddie is important to you now, she still won’t ever want to be seen with him. May likes being popular, and people hate Eddie Munson. 

It doesn’t matter that he’s the Eddie who made you a mixtape after one date, Eddie who doesn’t mind speaking when you can’t, Eddie who holds your hand and kisses you sweet. It doesn't matter because he is Eddie Munson. The way he dresses, the music he listens to, where he lives, the game he plays, how he makes money, who his parents were. He’s like a ticked list of everything people don’t want to understand. 

To think, now, that you ever let yourself believe he was anything other than lovely makes you ache with regret. You think of that word you found in a Welsh poem; hiraeth, like nostalgia, like homesickness. A sinking feeling, the realisation that you should have followed through every time you thought that people might be wrong about him. 

You saw him hold doors open, take Jeff under his wing, play his guitar exactly the way he likes even in the face of relentless mocking. You knew. Knew he was funny, knew he was interesting, knew he was kind. Knew that, somehow, life would be better if you just spoke to him.

What would you be like, now, if you had?

For a second, you’re sure you must be thinking about him too hard, because you can hear the howl of the music that plays loud from his van. But there he is, pulling up at the corner, looking both ways until he spots you and waves wildly like you might not recognise him otherwise. The tyres of Eddie’s van screech as he makes the turn, again when he halts next to you on the sidewalk. “Thought I’d lost you,” Eddie laughs, leaning over to open the passenger door for you. “Hop in, sweetheart.” 

Eddie waits for you to climb up into his van to press a chaste hello kiss to your lips, so casual and domestic it makes that longing to have had him earlier worse. He watches you buckle your seat belt and get yourself comfy with an excited grin, clearly waiting until he has your full concentration to say what he desperately wants to say. 

Eddie peels off from the sidewalk the second you are settled and looking at him expectantly. 

"Guess who met your Dad this morning!” 

You blink. “You went to my house?”

“Of course,” he says matter of factly, peeling away from the sidewalk. “Why do you think I’m here? I’m gonna be driving you to school from now on.” You almost fight the smile, but let it show when Eddie continues. “At first he thought I was there to mow the lawn? Had me all the way to the garage before I realised. My guess was he wanted an expert opinion on the quality of the grass.” Eddie grins conspiratorially, laughing at his own joke. “But I explained that I was there to pick up his beautiful daughter. Thought he was going to attack me with the weed whacker.”

You shake your head, giggling at the image of your cardigan clad, slipper wearing father wielding such a weapon against Eddie. You look him over, giving yourself a moment to gaze at his handsome profile. “But you’re miraculously unharmed.” 

“Oh yeah, it was no problem. Just turned on the signature Munson charm, you know?” He gives you a dimpled smile. “Then he told me you’d left early to catch the bus so I had to abandon my new best friend and speed on over to find you.” 

You like him especially like this. The way he weaves fantasy with the truth so easily, refusing to let reality get in the way of a good tale. He’s a better storyteller than anyone you’ve ever met, so much so that you don’t know exactly how much of this account is real. You won’t know unless you ask your Dad. 

You probably won’t. Eddie’s version is better. 

You watch his adorned hands while he drives, steady on the steering wheel. Your gaze drifts up his lithe arms to his face, bathed in Summer light. His dark hair is shades lighter like this, flyaways made golden by the sun. “Eddie?” He hums a questioning tone, eyes on the road while yours are fixed on him. “Are you really going to drive me every day?”

“Well, yeah. I thought I would.”

“You won’t…miss a day?” You’re not trying to dissuade him, but one thing you have known about Eddie for years is that he is prone to arrive late, if he makes it to school at all. 

“Princess, if there comes a morning that I am not ready and waiting for you with this, your carriage, know that I will have been slain by dragons.”

You are so desperately fond of him. “Really?”

“Nothing but talons and fiery breath will keep me from your door. I promise.”

The van slows to a stop, but you’re too occupied by him to question it. Eddie looks serious, even as he makes such a whimsical promise, and you know he wants you to believe him. Heart fluttering, you lean over to kiss his soft cheek, leaving a little spot of pink gloss on his skin that you wipe away with your thumb.

“Thank you, Eddie.” You grab his hand and bring your clasped fingers to rest on your knee, cherishing the warmth of him, the weight and feel of him. You sigh, chest sore at the loss of all the times you should have held this hand before. Your fingers find the smallest of his rings, this one is less chunky than those on his left hand. The stone at the centre is dark, flecked with grey. Eddie lets you twist it smoothly, run the pad of your first finger along the textured metal. When you look up from his hand, Eddie is already watching you. You give him what must be a sad smile. "I wish-"

“I think I speak for all of us-” You jump at the voice along with the door at the back of his van opening. Feeling caught in an intimate moment, you fight the urge to drop Eddie’s hand, instead squeezing it tight to get out the sudden nerves. Into the van climbs three boys. Eddie’s friends; including Jeff, who waves at you while the youngest, dressed in a sleeveless flannel, establishes his disbelief at your presence. “-when I say I did not think for one second you were serious about getting a girlfriend.”

Your face heats, the word fluttering around your brain like a swallow diving and gliding in Spring; girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend.

You don't chance a look at Eddie, even though you see him glance at you in your periphery. You can't, not when the desperation would read so clearly on your face the second you get a real glimpse of him. 

You watch the three boys shuffle and sit together along the bench seat in the back. Arms and legs squish together, and soon elbows appear to try and gain ground. Protesting grunts and curses sound even as Eddie starts the van.

When Jeff widens his legs in the middle, forcing one boy almost off the end and another to slam into the door at his side, a final frustrated groan sounds. “You know, Monday's are supposed to be my day riding shotgun."

“If you’ve got a problem, Gareth, I'm sure your Mommy would let you ride in the front every day of the week.” 

“I-” You rub the gem of Eddie’s ring with your thumb in a circle. “I’m sorry I took your seat.”

Gareth’s eyes seem to light up as if he’s spied an opportunity. “Well, you didn’t exactly take my seat. It was given away before he even picked you up,”

“Gareth-” Eddie starts, a warning sound.

“If you think for one second,” Gareth says, voice matching Eddie’s unique tone almost to a point. “That a woman like that is sitting anywhere but by my side you’ve lost your God damn minds.”

The three of them giggle like real schoolboys until Eddie’s head snaps around like a cat locating its prey, silencing them in an instant. Something about the tension in his jaw, the intensity of his eyes makes you feel warm between your legs. It also makes a long quiet, mischievous part of you want to push him a little bit. 

“When- when was this exactly?”

Four sets of eyes turn to you; one incredulous, the other three shifty like they’re weighing up the consequences of being the first to speak.

“Friday,” the final boy says, eyes darting to Eddie whose face is swiftly turning pink. “He said you were going on a date, that he might be driving you after. Never seen him so excited. And hey, looks like it went well, Eds?”

“You know something crazy?” Eddie grits. “I could've sworn I just heard Matthew’s voice. But that's impossible, because he’s dead to me.”

“Eddie!” You chide, watching his sweet, angry face, his lips set in an unintentional pout. This time, the kiss you press to his cheek is long, and in full view of his friends. Your heart pounds as you do it, aware of their eyes right on you, but it's entirely worth it to see Eddie’s pink cheeks darken further. You tap your feet a little, your own face heating while you rub the back of his hand with your thumb. “I was excited on Friday, too.”

You expect he might glare at his friends again when a chorus of ooh’s starts up behind you, but instead Eddie settles back into his seat, trying and failing to fight a happy grin, his dimples appearing even as his eyebrows are pulling together in an attempt at keeping up his anger. He squeezes your hand tight before he lets go to make a turn, then reaches out again immediately to take your palm back in his. 

“Hey, have you done any of the Chemistry homework?” Jeff asks, head appearing in the front, hiding Eddie from you. 

“Yes,” you nod, remembering the brutal questions you’d spent the rest of your Sunday on after returning from town with Heather. “In between bouts of tears.”

“Jesus. I know. Do you remember ever being taught anything about retention factors?” 

You shake your head, humming the negative. “We weren’t.”

“What does Mr Brown get from that? I mean I thought he wanted us to say, hey, you old bastard, you never fucking taught us this. But literally last week Jessie told him we hadn't learned molecular orbitals when it was on the test, and she got detention.”

“Note to self. Don’t do AP Chemistry.”

“I really don’t think that’s a choice you’ll have available to you, Gareth.”

“Hey! I got a B+ on the last assignment-”

“I’m your lab partner!” Matthew cries, smacking his friend on the shoulder. “I wrote the whole thing!” 

You watch them sitting uncomfortably together on the small back seat, arguing from either side of Jeff, whose stone faced grimace makes you giggle. When you turn back, Eddie is stopped at the lights and gazing at you, looking proud. 

You shrug bashfully, because talking to Jeff isn't so impressive. It's always been easier to speak to people who understand what it’s like to lose your words. 

You feel eyes on you when you jump from Eddie’s van in the school parking lot, uncomfortable prickles crawling up your neck. When you catch the eyes of two cheerleaders you rarely speak to despite sitting with them every day, you see their lips moving, smiles turning, and hear your heartbeat in your ears. 

Then it’s just Eddie, eyes level with yours, close enough you could count the long dark eyelashes that frame them. “You alright?”

You nod, giving him a brave smile. Your fingers twitch, wanting his hand again. “Okay. I have to, uh, meet somebody. But I can leave you with the guys, right?”

You nod again, wanting to tell Eddie that you’ve always liked Jeff, that you think you could like Gareth and Matthew, too. Suddenly you’re thinking about your own friends, and how hard it will be to explain this arrival on top of your dates with Eddie over the weekend. A part of you wants to beg him to get back in his van with you. You could drive to his trailer, hole up in the room that smells like him and hide in his arms. 

Another part wants to grab his face and kiss him in front of anyone who might be watching, scream at anyone who might hear that you've been waiting for this joy for what feels like your whole life. 

But you are stuck here, in an uncomfortable place between the two. 

“Eddie, will you-” You swallow, pressing the toe of your shoe into the tarmac.

“Just tell me what you need, sweet thing. I’ll do it.”

You could cry at how earnest he sounds, how much he means it. Instead you step forward and press your face to his shoulder, wrap your arms around his lithe waist in a hug. You hope he knows you want to give him more, that you’re trying for him. When Eddie’s hands come round your shoulders, giving your body a tight squeeze, you’re sure he does.

“Hey, you wanna come to my place after school?” You nod into his shoulder, sighing happily at the thought of time spent with Eddie removed from pestering eyes. When you force yourself from him, he gives you a final once over. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Mm.”

As Eddie walks away, you feel a bump on your shoulder and turn to find Jeff grinning at you. He raises an eyebrow and you find yourself covering your face and giggling. “Stop!”

“I didn’t say anything!” He bumps your shoulder again while you walk to the door, past intent stares and whispering mouths. You grab the hem of your skirt, crumpling the fabric in your fist. Next to you Gareth and Matthew are talking about a new album they like, as if people turning to look at you over their shoulders don't matter one bit. Jeff speaks soft. “Hey, you wanna compare the homework before first period? I found an old textbook in the library and I think I have the right idea, but if you’ve given it a try, too-”

Your name comes in a distinctively curt call, the way your Mom used to say it when she found you playing in mud and pretended not to be angry. Your heart drops, toes curling your shoes. May’s expression is tight, eyes fixed on you to avoid looking at the boys you are surrounded by. 

Your mouth opens to speak, but what do you say here? Introduce them? Apologise? Fabric twists in your shaking fingers while you look up at Jeff, knowing that you need to be left alone with your friend now. 

“Let’s go over it another day,” Jeff says, giving you a brace filled smile and May a quick worried look. “See you later.”

Gareth and Matthew follow the farewell, and you’re left alone. Looking at May's face, you can't help but feel guilty. 

She knows. 

“You went on a date with him?” 

Oh. She knows. 

You pull your sleeves over your hands and nod, trying to remember the words you were rehearsing this morning, trying to picture how this scene could play out in a way that ends with May’s smile. You are left empty by the disappointment, the exhaustion in her expression. You just twist your sleeves in your thumbs. “How did you-”

“Tracy's boyfriend works at the diner in town. He didn't know your name, but he told her the freak was there with that one girl that never says anything and well, it wasn't that hard for her and everybody else to work it out." She shakes her head, shrugging incredulously. "Were you even trying to hide it?” You shake your head, wanting it to be a proclamation that of course you weren't hiding, that you didn't want to hide Eddie one bit. Instead, it feels like the action of a scolded child admitting fault. “It’s like-” she starts, touching her forehead as if it’s aching, then clasping her hands together in front of her chest. “It’s like you’re determined to make life difficult for yourself.”

“May-”

“I mean, of everyone, everyone in school, you pick Eddie Munson. Eddie Munson. What is the aim here, exactly? To tank what reputation you have left? What are you going to say to Caroline at lunch when she asks about this?” 

Caroline, something of a Queen Bee in the cheer squad. May has been trying to impress her for years. She's half the reason May joined cheerleading, why she saves up for those weekend trips instead of drinking smoothies and gossiping with you and Heather. Caroline is also the reason May is embarrassed of you more often than not, these days.

Caroline thinks you are strange. She has told you to your face. Conversations with her are limited to sharing the answers of your homework, asking you to do her makeup before a competition, comments about your silence, the fact you can’t look her in the eye, the way you fidget with your clothes.

You could probably ignore it, if you didn’t know it hurt May just as much because of her association with you.

“Oh wait, you won’t say anything. You’ll just sit there and wait for me to explain it for you. Well, I really don’t think I can do that. I mean, do you even know how much time I spent defending you after the Andy thing?” She waits, and you realise she’s expecting an answer. You shake your head and you feel pathetic. “It took up entire practices sometimes. But I did it, I defended you, just like I always do. No, guys, you don’t get it! She hurt cause Andy embarrassed her and she’s shy! Too shy to even try talking to any of you instead of just hanging around all the time, but not shy enough to avoid dating Eddie fucking Munson!”

It’s your longest shame. The memory of the first time you found it hard to speak to someone is hazy, but you know you were young, and that the dread involved in talking to new people, important people, popular people, has never gone away.

You sniff. “I- I’m not trying to make it hard for you.” 

“Of course you aren’t!” She cries, exasperated. “But you’re not putting any effort into making it easy for me, either.”

“I didn’t- It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. I was- I wanted to explain everything.”

“What? So I could defend you properly?”

“No!” You cry, reaching for her hand and feeling relieved when she lets you take it. You stare at your fingers holding hers, your matching pale blue nails. “No, May. I hate that I made you feel that way. I’m sorry that you’ve had to defend me. I’m sorry I've left you to explain, but this- I wanted to explain it myself so you could try to understand.”

“Try to understand what? Why you need to date Munson?”

“Yes. I know you don’t like him but he-” Is perfect for you, makes you feel safe, touches you like you’ve been waiting for. “He’s kind, May. And it’s like he- he knows how to talk to me when I…you know, get quiet.”

Her gaze snaps to you. You feel her fingers flex like she wants away from your touch. “And what? I don’t?”

"No, you do, May. You and Heather, you’re the only ones who ever really have. You know that. But, some of the others, like with Andy. It annoyed him.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but it gets annoying.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat, nodding your understanding. 

“I’m sure Andy didn’t mind it in the beginning either.” May says. “Give Munson time. He might not like it so much when you’re six months in, still barely talking and all you’ve let him do is fucking dry hump you.”

You wince, hating to think about everything that happened, hating that she knew all that before you told her, hating that thought that Eddie could ever act the way Andy did. The tears that have been building finally start to spill, and you drag a sleeve up to your eyes, sniffing desperately and looking up to try and stop the pooling. 

You hear May sigh, feel her squeeze your hand in what you’re sure is an apology. 

“Okay. Fine. You like Munson. You told me that before and I should have taken it seriously but instead I sent you out into the woods to talk to him alone so, wow, I guess this is my fault.” You’re not sure if she’s joking, not sure what she wants you to say to any of that. “But I’m not justifying it to the cheer girls, okay? I mean it. If they want you gone, you’re sitting at the freak’s table for the rest of senior year whether you keep dating him or not.” 

There is a single moment, fleeting in your mind, where the thought of that brings you relief.

She’s not wrong. You let your worries be taken up with explaining it to her, but you find yourself answering questions from just about everyone else all day. 

A boy in Spanish you’ve never once spoken to, asking if you really got a ride to school with Eddie Munson this morning. Your desk partner in Math who always copies your answers passes you a note asking if it’s true you’ve been secretly dating for months. A freshman in the hallway whose brother you babysit asks if the freak is your boyfriend now, if you’re going to try and sneak him into her house when her parents are out. 

Yes. No. Sort of. Of course not. 

Maybe you should feel prepared when you walk into the cafeteria, ready to be questioned. One look at Caroline's picture perfect smile and your packed lunch is shaking in your trembling fingers. 

You spy the empty seats directly opposite her as you approach. Like it's planned, like she wanted to keep your options closed. Instinctively, you look over to the other side of the cafeteria as you sit, wishing Eddie were with you and not at the head of his table, gesticulating with his hands with each beat of the story he’s telling his friends.

“Oh, my God. It’s true.” Your gaze snaps back, feeling caught out even though you weren’t trying to hide. Caroline’s own eyes move from where she had followed yours to your face, eyebrows pulled together like she can’t believe somebody so strange as you could be real. You stare at her chin, shaking your knee under the table. “You are dating Munson.”

“Yes."

You hear the chair beside you pull out, see May sitting in your periphery with a light smile. “Hi, girls!”

“Did you know about this?” Caroline asks, gesturing to you with her head like you’re a red wine stain on a white shag carpet.

“God, no." She did warn you, but it still feels like a betrayal, still hurts your chest like one. "Not until Tracy phoned yesterday.”

“I mean, I can’t say I’m entirely surprised,” Caroline replies, widening her eyes and smirking. “If anyone was going to have a thing for the freak.” 

You would like to be strong. You would like to sound eloquent and speak with finality. Instead, you force out quiet words. "He’s kind.”

It’s as if you didn’t say anything at all.  

“Is this because Andy broke up with you?” You glance over down the table at the curious face of another girl, her hair tied back in the familiar green scrunchie. “Like is this you trying to make him jealous?” You flinch, shaking your head, but she continues, voice half a giggle. “Cause I mean, I think you may have picked the wrong guy.”

“I’m- I’m not trying to make anybody jealous.”

“My God. Imagine being jealous of Eddie Munson,” Caroline laughs, earning herself a chorus of agreement. 

“Have you seen that van he drives?”

“He's been a senior since I started high school.”

“I had to go to his place once to pick up. You know he lives in a trailer, right?”

“Yes.” You answer, the judgement of his home, cosy and safe, filled with Eddie’s presence, so personal that it lends you a moment of defiance. 

“Oh, you've been?” Caroline again, her pretty blue eyes set right on you. She tilts her head, hair falling in a smooth wave over her shoulder. “What have you been getting up to with that boy?”

Your heart pounds in your ears as dread settles. She's looking at you like she knows every salacious thing you have done in Eddie's bedroom, like she was standing over you during every intimate moment, and is now excited to share. Taking a breath, your mouth opens even as you have nothing to say. 

“I think it’s cute.” 

Erin Maclean sits with a forkful of salad ready to go into her mouth, grinning to the side. Clearly she's happy to have interrupted Caroline's excitement at having caught you out. You suspect displeasing Caroline is a bigger motive for Erin than any righteous feelings she might get from defending you. 

She has been one step out the door of being able to sit at the table for months, since everyone found out she slept with Caroline’s boyfriend at a party, a perfect high school scandal that made its way round the school and culminated in Erin being shunned by the whole table…until she threatened to quit cheerleading entirely. More talented than any of the others, her tumbling won the cheer team second place at regionals. 

Even Caroline's influence wasn't strong enough to go up against the desire to win. Now they content themselves with iciness to Erin's face and talking viciously behind her back.

You judged her at the time. It was only later, after Andy, that you saw the hypocrisy. It was like he had no part in things going wrong. Then the injustice became clear, that cruel insults are written about Erin in bathroom stalls months later, while the boy involved, the only one of the triangle who cheated, suffered a single week of pouty silence followed by a public reconciliation that flicked the single spot of dust from his reputation away for good. 

You stare at Erin now, amazed at the ease in her voice, the way she plays them all to her tune. 

“It’s kinda like," she waves her hand in the air. "Who’s that teen actress with the red hair?”

“Molly Ringwald! I love her!”

“Yeah! They’re like Molly Ringwald and the punk guy in the Breakfast Club.”

“Don’t spoil it! I haven’t seen it yet!”

“Damon finally watched Sixteen Candles with me last week, it was so romantic.”  

Just like that, the discussion has moved past you, to someone else’s much more suitable boyfriend, one worthy of their time. You feel your bottom lip shake with the beginning of relieved tears, blinking them away when you find Erin’s gaze. 

She gives you a close lipped smile, but she looks sad with it. The sweet relief you were feeling is dulled by the pity in her eyes.  

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By last period, you are exhausted with answering questions and explaining yourself to people who have never before taken an interest in you. You drop yourself behind a desk and let your head fall forward into your notebook, hoping that hiding your face will prevent any questions from the students filtering into the History class. You filter out the chatter, your head noisy enough on its own. 

Gentle fingers brush at the hair on your temple, and when you turn your head, you find Eddie squatting down beside your desk. At once, the sight of his tender smile soothes the tightness in your chest. You gaze at him, the features of his handsome face, and know that every question, every moment of frustration, will be entirely worth it if he will keep looking at you like this. 

“You okay, sweet girl?”

You almost nod, almost lie, but the truth comes easily with Eddie. “I’m tired.”

“Needed to talk to everybody and their dog today, I bet,” he says, rubbing the curve of his finger over your cheek. This time you do nod, realising he must have experienced the same thing all day. Eddie sighs, as you had. “'S my fault.”

That makes you sit up straight, registering the guilt in his expression. “No, it isn’t.”

Eddie’s eyes follow your movement, and he gives you a dejected smile. “It’s because of me.”

You shake your head, hating that even more, hating that he thinks he’s the problem when just the sight of his face is what makes the real problem disappear from your mind. 

“It’s because of us,” you correct, thinking about reaching out to curl a lock of his hair around your finger but curling your fingers into your palms instead. “And I-” You look away from his eyes, focusing on his forehead so you can say it. “I kissed you first, remember?”

Eddie’s face goes from concerned to soft in an instant, eyes wide and shining as he tilts his head, face splitting into a smile. “That’s true.”  

“Move, Munson,” 

You both glance up at Mark; stocky, scowling, clad in green and white. Shaking his head, Eddie looks at you and rolls his eyes. “If only the class were set up in some kind of grid system, then he could get round me so easily.”

You giggle softly until Eddie is shoved with a knee, almost toppling him until he grasps your desk, looking up again in disbelief. 

“I said move.” 

“Well, if you insist.” Eddie straightens up, taking a step right into Mark’s space to wrap his arms around the back of his neck and swing them round like they’re dancing. He waggles his eyebrows, tilting his chin up with a grin. “This is so romantic.”

“Jesus-” Mark pushes Eddie away from him, sending him crashing back into his seat in a way that must hurt, not that Eddie's laughter would give it away. “You are a freak, Munson.”

“Don’t talk to me like what we had wasn’t special!” Eddie calls after him, adjusting himself in his seat and pouting at you. “They always run.”

You rest your chin in your hand, in awe of him. Eddie looks like he's already moved on. He can deal with cruel words and physical intimidation like it’s all a joke, when an off tone on a single word can leave you wringing your hands all day. 

Eddie sighs, resting his own head on his hand opposite you. “You know, I really wanna pass this class, and if I’m gonna pay attention, you’ll have to stop that.”

You hear the teacher starting up at the front of the room, but you have to ask. “Stop what, Eddie?”

He tilts his chin up. “Lookin’ so pretty.” 

You make distressed sound like you want him to stop, but you can’t fight the cheek aching smile that sits on your face the whole class.

When the final bell rings, you are desperate to get out of the building before anyone new can approach. You find yourself grabbing Eddie's hand the second your bags are packed, half dragging the giddy looking boy through the halls and then outside to the safety of his van. 

When the doors are closed and you are speeding away, listening to Matthew and Jeff argue about what should be on the stereo, hearing Eddie snapping at them and starting up a Dio tape without further discussion, you feel you can breathe properly for the first time since you got up this morning.

Eddie grabs your hand the second Jeff and the others have jumped from the back of his van, the three of them calling out goodbyes to both of you by name. “Still happy to come back to mine?” 

You nod, wanting that desperately. “We could do the History homework.”

“Shit. I told you I wanted to pass that class, didn't I?” 

“Mm hmm.”

"Always setting yourself up, Munson," he mumbles, sighing. "Okay, Princess. For you, I will sit with you in close proximity to my bed and…do homework with you.”

“It’s always easier with two people. May and I-” You cut yourself off, reminded that you don't entirely know where your longest friendship stands. Telling her did not go at all how you’d planned. You’ve annoyed her, something you’ve been doing more and more recently. But maybe it hurt her, too, that she found out from somebody else.

“I guess you told your friends?”

“Mm,” you sigh. “I didn’t get to tell May the way I wanted to.”

“Right. Just checking, you think there’s anything you could have done that would have made her cool with this?”

You consider that, opening and closing your mouth a few times before shrugging. “I don't know. But I wanted- I mean, my plan was...” You squirm a little, finding your new favourite thing to play with, the gem set into Eddie's ring cool to the touch of your finger. “I wanted to tell her why I…like you so much.”

You expect a little tease. Nothing terrible, but Eddie brand mischief at least. Instead, his shoulders roll back like you've given him a bout of new confidence. He glances at you after turning the sharp corner into the trailer park. 

“I’m still not entirely used to that,” he admits. “You know, three different people came up to me today, asking if you were really my girlfriend.” You sit with him when he stops outside his home, pressing one shoe to the top of the other.

“And what did you say?”

“I told them it had nothing to do with them and it was weird as hell to be asking when they don’t even know me.” Eddie gives your hand a squeeze. “And then some guy called Jeff says, what are you talking about Eddie, we’ve been friends for years? So I thought I’d tell him anyway, cause I sort of wanted to talk about it.” Eddie’s face is serious, looking into your eyes. “Told him I hadn’t asked, but I am going to."

“Okay,” you whisper, heart fluttering. Eddie watches the way you sit up in your seat, and brings your hand to his lips to lay a soft kiss at your knuckles.

“Not yet though,” Eddie says, tone suddenly lighter as he opens the door at his side, hair flying behind him as he jumps out of the van. “Gotta be at just the right moment, you know?” 

You blink after him, close to a huff, but the sound of his boyish laugh is so sweet that you find yourself climbing out and jogging after him to keep yourself close, where you want to be.

The TV is on in the space of the living room, but Wayne is standing in the kitchen. Water sloshes. You hear the sound of scoured metal against a pan over the serious voice of a newscaster reading headlines.

“Hi Wayne!” Eddie calls, removing his jacket and throwing it on the couch unceremoniously. 

“Afternoon." Wayne catches you standing at the door when he looks up to greet Eddie and gives you an acknowledging nod. "Hi again.”

You wave briefly and give in to the temptation to hide, pressing the side of your face to Eddie’s arm when he takes your hand. "We have homework. For History." 

Wayne nods again, glancing between the two of you. "Not a problem. Just cleaning up after my breakfast. You want coffee or anything?"

"I do. Sweetheart?" You shake your head, the urge not to be a bother always present. Eddie bumps your hip with his. "I can make one how you like it in case you change your mind, mm?" 

"Okay, Eddie." You let go of him reluctantly, feeling out of place watching him and Wayne fluidly move around each other in their kitchen. 

"You wanna get us set up at the table?" Eddie asks. You nod, glad to have been given a task to stop you standing in the middle of the room feeling at odds. You sit at the little fold out table by the kitchen, retrieving your History folder, notebook and pencil case from your bag while dishes clink and coffee is poured to your right. 

"You two got a lot of classes together?" Wayne asks, setting the washed pan on a drying rack next to the sink. 

"Not this year. This one's working for college credits in a bunch of subjects."

You smile at the pride in Eddie’s voice, digging a toe of your sneaker into the floor.

"You heading to college next year?" Wayne is asking you directly, leaning back on the counter and drying his hands on a kitchen towel. You nod, hum a little positive sound. "Where you headed?"

"Mm, my friends are probably staying in Indiana...”

Wayne’s face is serious, edging on concerned. “Didn’t ask about your friends. Wanna know about you.”

Your face heats. You glance at Eddie, who is already looking over his shoulder at you like he knew you’d need him. He gives you a little smile, an encouraging nod, and you glance back at Wayne. “I mean, I guess I might just stay with them. But, I don’t know, I might try for NYU?” 

"She's gonna write about old poems in other languages. That’s right, isn’t it, sweetheart?" Eddie places your mug down on the table and throws himself down in the opposite chair, immediately searching through your open pencil case. You see his eyes widen in delight, landing on a pale blue pen with a fluffy top that you sometimes play with when you’re in class and the teacher is calling on people to speak. Eddie presses the softness at the end to his face, strokes it up and down his cheek. “Why aren’t all pens like this?”

You watch him adoringly while he tickles his own neck and laughs softly to himself. 

"It was nice seeing you again," Wayne says, suddenly closer. When you turn to him, feeling sheepish that you had, for a second, forgotten he was there, he's giving you a small, but genuine smile. 

You realise that you've been caught. You can only imagine the way you look at Eddie, especially in the moments he acts like this, sweet and silly and him. Maybe your expression showcases it, the fact that you’d rather look at Eddie than anything else.

"You, too.” You mumble, clearing your throat to try and get the next words out more clearly. “Thanks, um, for letting me work here."

"Course. Anyone my boy wants around is welcome. You take care. I'll see you later, Eddie."

Eddie finally pays attention, bringing the soft fluff down from his chin and grinning. "Later, Wayne." 

You smile shyly when Wayne’s out the door, remembering the last time he left the two of you alone in this trailer, Eddie’s hands and mouth exactly where you wanted him most, where you are fighting against the want for him now.

You search through your pencil case for a slightly more practical pen. “I thought, maybe, we could do the questions together? I can start at five if you do one, and we could meet in the middle?”

Eddie’s head tilts, his hair falling across his mischievous face. “You actually wanna do the History homework? It's not due till Wednesday."

"But you have a gig tomorrow." 

Eddie considers this fact for a second, then leans his head back and groans into the air. He slumps, bum sliding forward on his seat until his body is a diagonal line from the back of the chair to the floor. He looks so much like a grumpy little boy with his big pouty lips and wide eyes that your heart aches a little even while you’re close to laughing at him. "I hadn't considered this,” he sighs, arms crossing over his chest. “You're really gonna make me do my homework all the time, aren't you?"

"Oh. I mean, I thought-” You suddenly feel a little silly, find yourself playing with the paper of your notebook, curling up the corner of the top page with your thumb. “I guess I thought it would be nice. But I can- I’m happy to go home, next time.”

Eddie shakes his head decisively, grasping the table to help sit himself up. "No, Jesus. I don’t want that. I’d choose doing my homework with you over doing anything else without you. Always.” He rests his elbows on the surface, leaning in close enough you can smell the smoke and the mint of his breath. “I guess I’m just wondering how much of the time we’ll spend on homework is time I could have spent with my tongue inside you." 

The space between your legs pulses with sudden heat, leaving you rubbing your thighs together. You could curse him for having this amount of power over you already, that he can say something so casually that leaves you with the beginnings of an encompassing ache. Eddie is grinning, proud of himself, watching your eyes keep darting from his face to the table and back again, searching through your blank mind for a reply.

“But you call the shots here, sweet thing,” he acquiesces, satisfied by the shadow of regret on your face. “Question one, you said? I’ll get right on that.” 

You watch him write his name at the top of the paper, leaning over the table. The concentrated look in his big eyes as he reads the question, his pink tongue coming to rest at his top lip. His soft hair is asking to be stroked as well as pulled. The pale column of his neck begs for kisses. The curve of his arms and the tattooed skin peeking out from his shirt want your tracing fingers. 

“Stop it,” you mumble, pressing a toe to the end of one of his Reebox under the table.

“Stop what?” 

You tilt your head. “Mm. Looking so pretty.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. Me? He mouths, pressing a palm to his chest as you nod. That hand moves to drag some of his hair across his face. Eddie plays it up, but you know that you have made him genuinely happy because, when he is done fluttering his eyelashes, his gaze moves to the table and he looks, for a second, earnestly shy.

“Well, I guess I’ll try. But no promises.”

Eddie writes quick, once he’s settled. As you finish your first question, he has written his answers for two. Your agreement, to work on the third question together, gives him a moment of pause that his busy brain latches onto. It drags him on to the next activity as soon as he’s written his last word, and then he’s offering you more coffee and searching through the cupboards for a preferred snack. He even disappears into his room for a minute, emerging with a mug he’d used yesterday that he throws in the sink before returning to his snack hunt. 

It reminds you of the way you’ve seen Eddie in class sometimes. Deeply focused, then suddenly playing with the ends of his hair, drumming a distracting beat, doodling on his notebook around the beginnings of what must have been good notes. 

It’s only when you’re finished with your own questions and reading through his that you bring him back to the table. It doesn’t take much, just an exclamation of, “Eddie, that’s a really good point!” 

He is sitting down opposite you the next second, looking just as pleased at that as he was to be called pretty. 

The second your pens are down from writing the final answer, Eddie is round your side of the table and pulling you up from the chair by your forearms like he wants to run away from the books and paper in case you suggest any more work. “That was exhausting,” he says, walking backwards to keep his eyes on you, briefly tripping over a discarded magazine but otherwise walking with practised ease. “You do that all the time?”

You giggle to watch him throw himself back on his bed and give a tired groan as if he’d just written ten thousand words and not five short paragraphs. He toes off his shoes carelessly, kicking them from his feet while you kneel to tug at your laces

“You really never do your homework?” You ask, loosening the tongue of your left sneaker and pulling it off before shifting to the right one. 

“I try. Sometimes. I just, y’know, get bored,” Eddie says above your head. “Then I get distracted, and I can’t get back into it.”

“Well, we can work together, now.” You finish with your other shoe and look up at him from the floor, finding Eddie’s gaze intent on you already. You swallow, glancing at his knees, bare through denim, spread apart from each other on his bed. If you shuffled forward a couple of feet, you’d be between them.

“Yeah?” Eddie’s shoulders roll back, hands behind him on the bed. “You gonna keep me motivated? Reward me when I’m good?”

A shiver runs up your back, the ache that had never truly gone away now roaring its presence. It is a strange feeling, to know that Eddie likes looking at you on your knees, that he must like the thought of what you could do for him, positioned like this. And then, to still feel unsure. Maybe you’ve misunderstood. Maybe you haven’t and doing what you think he wants would be a mistake anyway. You don’t know what you’re doing, and he won’t like it. If he does like it, if you’re good at that, what would that say about you? 

Do you ask to do it? If he asks you, what do you say back? You know he likes the things you say to him when he is touching you. But to beg and praise and thank him when your body is alight with the pleasure he gives happens naturally. It happens without the involvement of your brain, when your ecstatic body tells your mouth the things Eddie wants to hear. 

What do you say when you are the one giving? When your brain is working full tilt to ensure you are doing everything right?

You look briefly between his legs, the metal buckle of his belt, the black denim that hides him from you, and you are both wanting and scared. You find his eyes, and they are kind.

“Eddie,” you whisper. 

“C’mere.” 

You clamber up to him, almost a familiar position now to be sat in his lap with your knees bracketing his thighs. You bury your face in his shoulder, letting yourself be soothed by the softness of his shirt against your cheek and the smell of him; smoke and weed, his cheap and pleasant aftershave. Eddie hums low, stroking a hand down the back of your head, massaging gently at your neck. 

“I wish-” You mumble, regretting it immediately, the end of the sentence too embarrassing to say. You think he might prompt you, but instead he keeps rubbing at the back of your head with his thumb, his hand a delightful warm pressure on your neck. You breathe in the boyish smell of him, mind settling on Eddie who is kind, Eddie who won’t judge, Eddie who wants to look after you.

“I wish I could talk like you.”

“I’m not sure this town could handle another person who talks the same shit I talk, sweet thing,” he laughs. “Besides, I’d miss the way you talk.”

You hide your whole face in his shoulder, voice coming out muffled. “But I mean…in bed.” Embarrassment crawls up and down your spine to be saying this. “It’s like it’s easy. You just make me all- make me so-”

You unconsciously wiggle on his lap, a desirous little movement that doesn’t escape Eddie. He huffs a soft laugh into your cheek. “I make you so…hot and wet in your little cunt?”

You squeeze your eyes shut even though the world is already hidden by his shoulder against your face. “Eddie,”. 

“You know, it’s probably easier than you think.” Eddie’s big hand locates yours where it was pressed to his chest, bringing it up to his lips to kiss your palm before he lowers it. “Cause, you? Fuck, sweetheart, all you need to do is say my name.” Eddie presses your palm to his crotch, where you can feel him, thick and hard under the zip. “Say it again.”

He lets you curl your fingers, getting a feel for the girth of him, the length hidden by denim. You turn your head from his shoulder, glancing up at his face to find that the warm brown of his eyes has vanished behind pools of black. You whisper. “Eddie.”

You feel the excited twitch of his cock at the sound of his name from your lips. He is hot and ready against your palm, and the thought of touching him more, seeing him like he’s seen you takes over your brain. “Eddie,” you murmur, earning yourself another twitch, followed this time by his soft lips on yours. Your shoulders release their tension, content to feel Eddie’s mouth, to taste the promise that you are allowed to get things wrong because it’s him. You gasp softly when he releases you, your eyes fluttering closed when he dots kisses over your face, breath heavy when your palm rolls tentatively over his swollen cock. “Eddie, I want-” Your throat protests, and you pause to build yourself up to it again. 

“Do you want my mouth?”

Your pussy throbs, the memory of Eddie’s tongue at your entrance, how soft his lips were kissing your clit. “Oh. Yes, please.” 

“S’fucking sweet,” he says, grabbing your hand from his crotch. “Lie back, baby-”

“Wait,” you gasp, tightening your legs on either side of him to keep him from turning you over. “I want- I want to-”

Your toes curl, wishing again you could be more like Eddie, who offers his tongue with the same ease as a cup of coffee. 

Eddie strokes his thumb over your wrist, feels your racing pulse under his fingers and shakes his head, soft hair moving with him. “You don’t have to do anything, baby.”

“I know,” you answer with certainty, chest warm. It’s the knowing you don’t have to that makes you want to. It’s the fact that Eddie doesn’t expect you to offer anything more than what you’re willing to give that makes you want to give so much. 

You can’t say it, not how you want to, but you can still tell him.

You turn your wrist out of his hand, grab his own. Your heart pounds when you curl three of his fingers down. You clasp his wrist with both hands, hoping they can keep each other steady, and bring his fingers to your lips. Chancing a look at Eddie when your tongue flicks out along his rough pads, you find his mouth hanging loose, eyes blinking and intent on your lips. He tastes like his last cigarette at the tips, like skin further down. You breathe heavily through your nose as you press your head forward, sliding along his warm fingers until your lips meet the cool metal of his rings. Your tongue curls naturally around the length of the digits, and the noise that escapes the back of Eddie’s throat when you suck gently stokes the heat between your thighs, the sticky feeling of cotton pressing to wet skin. 

“Okay,” he breathes, face flushed. “Okay, shit.” 

You pull back, dragging the soft inside of your lips along his skin, and Eddie makes a low groan in the back of his throat, one of his legs shaking between yours. “Will you-” His voice breaks, a soft squeak at the last word, and you hear him clear his throat desperately through your heart beating in your ears. Eddie sighs, speaks soft. “Open your mouth a little for me, sweet thing.”

It takes you a second, still wrapping your head around the satisfying feeling of your mouth being filled, the taste of Eddie’s skin, the ability to speak taken away. Your mouth opens wider as soon as the request registers in your brain. You let Eddie press his fingers deeper, your eyes fluttering at the smooth glide over your tongue. Just as you get a taste of the metal of his rings, your body protests the depth,  our fingers twitching at the gagging sound your throat makes. You blink away the first spring of tears as Eddie coos softly, tilting your head so you’re looking right at his intent gaze, his gentle pout. He draws his fingers in and out of your mouth, skating along your drooling tongue. 

“Just wanted to see what I’m working with, mm? My girl wants my cock in her mouth, is that it?” 

You try to make a positive noise, but it comes out as any other sound would with your lips wide open like this. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. He gives another deep prod with his fingers, grinning when your prepared throat lets him in a little deeper before protesting with a short gag. 

Eddie pulls his fingers from your mouth and grasps your cheeks with his wet hand, the curve that connects his forefinger and thumb sitting at your chin. “I think you’re gonna be a natural. You wanna get on your knees for me?”

The tears that had sprung up from your gagging pool a little more at the relief of Eddie taking over. You’ve told him what you want without words, he understood, and now he’s going to give you it. “Yes, Eddie.”

“Okay, baby.” He helps you off the bed, kicking shoes out of the way and replacing them on the floor with one of his pillows, making you feel soft for him even as you’re trembling in anticipation. Your head feels light when you sink down, settling your knees on the pillow before you look up at his flushed, smiling face. “Comfy?” 

Eddie’s fingers push back stray hairs from your forehead when you nod, his thumb rubbing soft over your cheekbone. “You can stop any time, you know that, right?” Another nod from you, your hands coming to rest at the inner seams of his jeans, feeling the radiating warmth there. “Even half way through, even right at the end, okay?”

“Yes, Eddie.”

“I want a God damn recording of you saying that,” he groans, leaning down to capture your lips in a quick kiss wet with your spit and his. “I’d play it on a fucking loop everywhere I go.”

You hum, body tingling in a mix of excitement and worry. Waiting to touch Eddie, wanting it to be good for him. Knowing he’ll help you, hoping he doesn’t mind. Chewing your lip, you rub your hand up his thigh, staring at his face the whole time. You find him hard and straining still, a soft whimper edging from his mouth at the pressure of your fingers. 

“Baby, I’ve got to-” He groans at the back of his throat. “Can I take it out?”

You nod quickly, the ends of your fingers rubbing the bulge of him as Eddie attacks his belt, his desperation to get it open making his fingers clumsy, fiddling with the clasp until he starts shaking his knee in exasperation. You hear the gentle clink of the buckle when he finally succeeds with it, followed by the differing metallic sound of his zip.  

Eddie’s hand disappears under the grey band of his boxers, and you feel his fingers slide under yours through his pants. His shoulders shake, like he’s been waiting for this relief, like it was hurting, when his hand jerks under the cotton. You stare at that place, the thick, dark curls of hair that peak out from his waistband, the movement of his hand under shifting fabric. Your tongue peeks out to wet dry lips. 

He laughs softly when he catches the anticipation on your face, dimples appearing at his cheeks. Eddie sounds like he’s only just realised what’s happening. “Fuck. Fuck. You want my cock in your mouth.”

Your cunt clenches and you find yourself nodding, watching his hand drag his cock out from his jeans, pulling his fist over the thick length in a few quick strokes. “You ever seen a dick before?” You shake your head, eyes fixed on the round, smooth end of him that peeks out from folds of pink skin when his hand glides back. “Shit, man. It’s fucked. I know it’s fucked but that’s so hot.” 

His hands speeds up, drawing out some liquid from his tip, pooling at his slit. A primal part of you resents being made to watch, your fingers digging into his thigh in protest. Eddie’s body shakes up his back. “I’m sorry, baby. ‘S all yours.” 

The fear that he might leave you on your own to work out what to do rises and falls away when he grabs your hand and shows your where to touch him. Eddie wraps your hand around him at the base, and you feel the twitching you’d only known through fabric, now directly in your palm, along your fingers. 

You swallow as Eddie guides your pace, feeling the soft skin wrapped around firm flesh. “A little tighter, baby- yeah, yeah, shit. Wait, fuckin’, shit, spit on your hand a little. S’better if it’s wet.” It’s like a call and response, the way you take barely a second to spit into your palm and return your hand to glide along his cock. It is easier, your hand moving smoother. “Twist a little at the end.” You follow his advice, turning your hand at his tip, and he groans through his teeth. You watch more cum leaking from him, dripping from his slit, pooling within the skin that covers his head every time your hand moves up towards the end of his cock.

You hardly expect it yourself when your tongue lathes over the end of him. Eddie cries out above you but you hardly notice, considering the new taste of him, musk and salt like the sweat on your top lip after a long run. Strange and new but not unpleasant. Your tongue peeks out again to lap softly at his head, licking away pooling cum and leaving the head of him wet with your spit, unknowingly teasing him beyond what he can handle.

“That taste good, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, voice strained. You look up at him with wide eyes and hum positively, any thoughts of embarrassing desperation miles away when Eddie is watching you like this. “You gonna let me fuck your mouth now?”

Your pussy throbs when Eddie brushes your hand away from his cock, grasping the base with his own ring covered hand and tapping himself against your tongue. The wet dirty sound of it, the feeling of his spongy head bouncing on your tongue makes you squirm, opening your mouth wider so he has the space to take it how he wants it. 

His cock glides easily along your wet tongue until his head, heavy and warm, is past your lips entirely. “If you- if you cover your teeth you can- yeah,” he laughs when you instinctively bring your lips over your top teeth to suck at the swollen flesh filling your mouth, Eddie’s big hand rubbing at the length still exposed to the air. “Was right, baby. You were fucking made for this.”

Eddie seems torn between letting his head fall back on his neck to focus on the feel of you, and remembering every detail of how you look on your knees for him; eyes wide, mouth stretched open. His face keeps disappearing and reappearing, thrown back then staring down. You keep sucking gently, enjoying the weight of him on your tongue, the constant drip of salt slick from his cock. Praise from Eddie has your clit twitching, and you think distantly about dipping your fingers into your panties to rub at the swollen button. But you want Eddie’s tongue more, the thought of it making you whine around his cock. 

Eddie’s hips buck, his cock pushing deeper until it hits the same place his fingers had prodded, your throat clenching in protest. You pull away from him, leaving him wet with drool, to take a breath. “M’sorry, m’sorry,” he breathes, stroking the back of your head with one hand and pressing his tip into your mouth with the other. “Get back on my cock.”

You squirm as you take him back inside, bobbing your head in time with his hand moving along his cock. You rub his thighs, still hidden in his jeans, feeling the ocassional twitch under your fingers from him fighting the urge to ignore your protesting throat and fuck himself deeper. “We’re gonna do this all the time now, yeah?”

You hum in agreement, wanting this feeling again, as much as he’ll let you have it. Sitting at Eddie’s feet, making him feel good, the heavy thickness of him filling up your mouth. 

“Yeah, we’re gonna train you up, baby. ‘M gonna help you take it deeper till you can take my cock in your tight little throat. Till I can feel myself here.” He rubs a thumb over the hollow of your neck, pressing down like he’s imagining massaging his cock through the skin. “That sound good?”

You groan, feeling desperate now. Your panties are uncomfortably wet, your hips grinding into the air in the search for friction. Wanting him to cum, wanting him to cum now, you reach up to brush his working hand from his slick cock, replacing it with your own, trying to replicate his pace and jerking him into your bobbing mouth. 

“Shit,” Eddie gasps, both hands threading through your hair at the scalp, a tight painful grip that only makes your core throb, encouraging you along. You feel his cock twitch desperately in your mouth, under your fingers. “So warm, so fucking good on my cock, you’re unbelievable. This can’t be real. You’re a siren- a fucking succubus, you’re gonna kill me- fuck!”

Eddie’s ramblings make you more desperate for him, things only he would say, pushing you to take him deeper, the head of him finding the tight beginning of your throat. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum now.” 

He pulls his cock from your mouth rapidly, leaving your hand to work him through his orgasm. You watch wide eyed at the twitch along his cock, his heavy balls underneath, followed by ropes of white cum from his tip. It covers your hand, warm and thicker than what had been dripping onto your tongue. 

You rub a thumb over the end of him, taking the last clinging drop before you bring your hand to your mouth, licking tentatively. The taste is almost familiar now, the texture new. “Holy shit-” You lap at it on your hand, a mix of curiosity about your own ability to taste and swallow him and the knowledge that boys are supposed to like it when girls do this. With anyone else, you might be worried about seeming desperate. You don’t mind Eddie knowing that you are. 

You gather spit in your mouth to help you swallow down what was on your hand, blinking at his softening cock for a second before kissing at what is left there. Eddie hisses, eyes closing tight while you lick up the rest of it. 

“You swallowed everything, sweet thing?” Feeling a strange, salacious pride, you show him your tongue, wet and clear of his cum, only for Eddie to grasp your face and lick along the muscle, groaning into your mouth at what is left of his taste there. “Okay. Okay, come up here, I’m gonna- fuck. Have to eat your pussy.”

Eddie tucks himself away in his boxers, and then he’s hauling you up to him, dragging your dress up and off before pushing you down on his bed. Eddie lacks all the gentle finesse he’d brought to this yesterday. Gone is the boy who rubbed his cheek against your thigh while playing with the edge of your panties. He tears this pair down your legs like he’s angry at them for being there, pressing his face to your cunt like he needs the taste of you the same way he needs air.

“S’fuckin wet,” he groans, dragging his tongue from your entrance to your twitchy clit. “Imagine that. Sweetest fuckin’ girl in town, and getting on your knees for me leaves your cunt sticky.” His lips wrap around your clit, sucking at the sensitive nerves until your toes curl in your frilled socks. Your hands find his hair, stroking through the soft, broken curls at the top of his head. Teeth brush your clit, your hips flying up against his face and your fingers grasping his hair tight enough it must hurt. 

Eddie spits, saliva pooling at your wet entrance to ease the way for his fingers, sliding through your slick and his to target the delightful spot at the end of you. 

“Eddie,” you cry, the build of it so much more intense than any time before, his fingers fucking your tight cunt while he sucks ungracefully at your clit. You gasp, high and desperate, your thighs closing around his head. Your fingers dig into his hair, keeping his wet mouth between your thighs while your hips roll desperately, using his outstretched, lapping tongue for your pleasure while your pussy clasps around his invading fingers. Your high is a quick, overwhelming thing. You feel it gush wet around his hand, the sounds of him playing with your hole increasingly sloppy until you’re keening, batting at his shoulder with tears in your eyes.

Your tense limbs loosen when Eddie’s mouth leaves you, tensing up for just a second at the final kiss Eddie gives your clit to feel the excited twitch of it against his lips. He crawls up your body, laying kisses on you at every level. Your mound, stomach, breasts. The hollow of your neck. His face is wet with you, leaving damp spots all across your skin. When his eyes are level with yours, his hair brushing the sides of your face, you reach up to tuck some of it behind his ear. 

Eddie laughs softly, his breath warm and humid on your face. “Congratulations,” he breathes. Eddie presses his sweaty forehead to yours and the world becomes his big soft eyes. “You’re going to be in every wet dream I have for the rest of my fucking life.”

You hum, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him right down on top of you, stealing more kisses from him while his body weighs down on yours. 

 “How do you feel?” He asks, big hand rubbing your hip.

Another hum. Strange is the answer. To have been so in a moment just minutes ago, wanting something so desperately, and now to wonder what that wanting says about you. And then to resent that wonder, wanting to be present where you are, pleasured and cosy in Eddie’s bed, in his arms. 

“Liked it,” you assure, looking from his cheeks to his eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Felt so fucking good for me,” he breathes, leaving you chewing your lip bashfully. Eddie shakes his hair over your face, tickling your cheeks until you’re smiling and tucking it back again. Eddie kisses your forehead, your nose and your cheeks. Then your eyes, chin, jaw, back to your nose, soft lips scattering kisses over every bit of your face, leaving you giggly and breathless, clinging to him even more, needing him like this. He sighs into your mouth at the end. “Be my girlfriend.” Eddie’s eyes close tight the second he says it, face embarrassed while you lay under him, a picture of adoration. “I didn’t wanna ask like that- shit. Don’t answer.”

“I want to be your girlfriend, Eddie.” 

“Are you sure?” He asks, as if you aren’t stroking a hand over his face like a lover, rubbing his eyebrow with your thumb to ease the tension at his forehead. Your heart aches at his sweetly concerned expression. “Cause I can ask better. I can make it romantic, you know?” He pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, chews at it cruelly while he stares at your contented face. “I want to deserve you.”

You shake your head. A better speaker would be able to lay out all the reasons he already does, that anyone half as good as him deserves anything, everything they want. You are left with something more simple. “I- I just want to be yours.”

It seems to work just as well. Eddie’s sigh is long and shuddery. The release in his shoulders is the loss of a long held tension that you are trying to rub away with gentle hands.

Next Part

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Sorry pls ignore my last ask BPP. Your point about Seven being the 'Dynamite' equivalent in solo era is a good one and explains the treatment it got. After the BB article I also now understand why BH dropped LC. If BB believed the LC record was 'tainted' with Chinese cash and BH never had that 'Dynamite' promotion plan for it, everything that's happened makes sense. But it still leaves a nasty taste in my mouth. I can't wash it out. Are we now at the mercy of BB's whims? Also don't you find the support for Seven excessive? Is the elimination of direct to consumer sales enough to explain that kind of support to keep it number 1? I'm just trying to understand how the company is thinking about things without victimizing the members. They all seem to be still working with purpose so I feel they don't feel shortchanged, but from the outside looking inside it doesn't feel fair.

*

Ask 2:

Hi BPP,

Re: bb article

1. Do you think there will be additional changes coming, making sales even less relevant for bb charts?

2. I absolutely hate that it is again Jimin that takes the brunt of all this bulshit, I really do. He doesnt deserve this at all. But he is strong, he will be OK. That being said, its making me really upset IRL, so I will have to do some me time.

3. I would be interested to know your outlook on BB as a whole when it comes to BTS and their future in US market (if you have talked about this pls refer me to the post)

My opinion is, that while BB is paramount when it comes to big awards season, eventually BB and the awards themselves serve as a kind of promotion, to validate the artist to their (potential) fanbase, keep them invested etc. BTS guys do all of that on their own, with their music, personalities and lyrics. So going forward, if they dont chart as much, dont win as much... It will not matter in the long run. Their fan base is so solid that I trully believe they will have no problem selling multiple stadium stops 25 years from now. Easily.

There will be a significant fandom fall off, when all the people who are here for bragging rights lose their interest. And that is a good thing... But the people who will stay, who love the guys for who they are and for their art, those whose love does not depend on how many grammy noms or BB H100 they recieve... These people will stay and buy the tickets. And their numbers will still be enourmous. Enviable. More than the majority of the western industry plants can only dream of.

Rant over. Have a good weekend

*

Ask 3:

The latest Billboard discussion is disheartening, but the NYT article description of U.S. conservatives aping the tactics of Swifties and BTS fans to get their nefarious messaging across is even more so. Have we opened the gate for the Trumpsters of the world?

I was struck by this partvof the original question to you"

'... figure out a way to truly determine which songs are most popular (whatever that even means anymore)....'

So, how can we ever know what is truly popular? Are fervent fans willing to devote time and resources to get their fave to the top really the best arbiters? Even if they number in the millions, we are still looking at support that is far deeper than it is wide.

I mean, better than the suits deciding, I guess? Or is it just another group--this one outside of the target country--imposing their agenda on the population? One has the goal of making money; the other of winning a fan war.

So, how do we ascertain what is truly popular with the much-vaunted GP? Or doesn't it matter?

***

I've said many times on this blog that I'm not a writer, and that English isn't my first language, so I suppose it's unsurprising that despite my efforts putting my thoughts to paper/Tumblr, I'm still unable to fully communicate it in a way people understand right away, to eliminate/answer a lot of questions that I believe should be clear to infer from what I've written before. So rather than write a massive post like before where my key points could get lost, I'll pick out key questions from your asks and give fairly brief answers to each one. I'll work my way from the top, down.

Hi Anon(s),

Select answers below:

"Also don't you find the support for Seven excessive? Is the elimination of direct to consumer sales enough to explain that kind of support to keep it number 1?"

I think the results speak for itself. Dynamite and the PET got what is easily the biggest support any BTS release had gotten to date at the time - all of it tailored to mirror how American labels promoted their tracks, *and* the fandom had D2C sales buttressing it as the primary support mechanism. Like, please read that sentence again and think about what it means. Sales are the easiest and most transparent way for the fandom to influence charts, and so was always preferred for ARMY. Even if you weren't in the fandom then, understand it's impossible to overstate how much D2C sales mattered. With that now out of the question, everything we're seeing for Seven for me feels like a given, especially after the Billboard article.

"Do you think there will be additional changes coming, making sales even less relevant for bb charts?"

Yes. But not 'less relevant' in a sense, more like differentiated and treated as its own thing, perhaps in a separate chart.

"I would be interested to know your outlook on BB as a whole when it comes to BTS and their future in US market (if you have talked about this pls refer me to the post)"

This probably requires its own post but the long-short of it is: just like Ticketmaster, Billboard is only one arm of one of the largest private monopolies in the US entertainment market - PMC, and as such they serve as gatekeepers of sorts. Their interest in BTS (and k-pop by extension) lies primarily in how they can profit off the group/fandom, which so far BigHit and ARMY have created very limited avenues for. BigHit's strategy until now has been to expand BTS's reach without relying on the PMC apparatus, using it only for select releases that are explicitly tailored for it e.g. Seven and PET. While I don't think this strategy will change dramatically, every change from BB is to force more compliance with their apparatus. BTS will continue facing handicaps from PMC so long as BigHit continues limiting how PMC can profit from BTS for each release. (This sentence makes sense in my head but if it's not clear, please let me know.)

*

"Have we opened the gate for the Trumpsters of the world?"

Well, yeah. But ARMYs can't take all the credit. After all, ARMYs are only doing what the Bey Hive and Swifties have been doing for almost a decade with none of the scrutiny. BTS, more than any other group, actually has the absolute numbers in demand and grassroots support to justify it as they're comparable to the afore-mentioned artists, proven by their concert showings not just in the US but worldwide, as far back as 2018. People only started paying attention to ARMYs' movements because BTS didn't look like the sorts of people they expected to see at the top of the charts. Everybody took notice, including a political faction in the US that in recent years has moved more aggressively into the entertainment sphere to influence culture, such as Ben Shapiro's entertainment empire, movies like Sound of Freedom topping box office charts, and conservative country singers pushing Reagan-esque talking points to the top of music charts. So it's basically the result of timing and opportunity.

"So, how can we ever know what is truly popular? Are fervent fans willing to devote time and resources to get their fave to the top really the best arbiters? ... how do we ascertain what is truly popular with the much-vaunted GP?"

I've talked about this before I think. You can find my views on it in my Masterlist, and I've linked the post here.

*

People sent in more asks on BB but I've since lost interest in this topic and will post my responses when I feel like it, much later, using the same format I've used to answer the asks above. The truth is that while I understand why many people feel like everything that's happened so far with Seven and Jimin is unfair, I think a lot of the discourse is awfully reductive, actually does a disservice to Jimin and BTS, and that there's a much bigger picture here that's more consistent with how BTS has operated for the last 10 years.

This is probably not the best analogy, but one way I think of BTS is like a Swiss army knife, with each member being a separate tool. And that at different points, in various markets, BigHit and BTS are testing various approaches to expand their reach while aiming to maintain the market share they've gotten so far. The group has always had projects they release that have more artistic merit and cache, versus projects made by all appearances to be purely for commercial purposes to expand the reach of the group. For example, consider how BigHit promoted Butter/Permission to Dance, compared to the BE album, or how Seven was created and promoted relative to Indigo. To go back in even further in previous years, I remember how BTS appeared to center Jimin in Blood, Sweat & Tears era to build out his and their presence in Korea, and Taehyung in DNA era where his and BTS's presence in China ballooned in 2017.

While in the solo era some people feel like every accomplishment remains solely with individual members, I feel everything serves only one purpose: to further establish the group. Because by BTS's own words, they all have their individual ambitions, they've always had that and each member is aggressively competitive on that note, but they've each all said that their priority remains the group. Not everybody likes that, not everybody believes them when they say it, but the good thing with BTS is that they plan in multi-year stints and time always reveals what the facts of the matter are. We're only one year into Chapter 2, and while certain parts of the fandom are treating their solo debut albums as the be all and end all, I don't think there's anything to suggest this perspective lines up with the reality of how BTS has behaved for the last 10 years. I could be wrong, but either way we're just going to have to wait and see. In the meantime, I believe there's significant artistic merit in what the guys are putting out in Chapter 2, that I hope isn't lost in the noise. The fandom should do a better job of bringing the attention back to this, rather than a tunnel-vision on performance metrics that only tell half of the story.

[taylortruther]

what do you think the people who are mad at Taylor about Matty should do if they can't just turn it off and not care and feel betrayed anway? Should they just leave?

it's not easy, so let me preface with that!

i think you can acknowledge that it is hurtful that matty sucks and taylor is dating him; you can acknowledge that, because they know each other irl, they've talked about it and he might has probably explained his behaviors in a way that taylor sympathizes with; you can acknowledge that taylor has told us she's living her life for herself and not anyone else's approval (including fans') and she has essentially told fans she's not listening right now; you can acknowledge that racism and bigotry is wrong but you might feel better taking action irl like finding an organization or cause to participate in; and you must acknowledge that being a fan of her music or running a blog about her does not say much about your morality because you can care about your community irl and that makes more of an impact than yelling at other fans on social media.

however, if you can't or don't want to do anything, it's okay to step back or change your relationship with her music and the fandom.

[dearweirdme]

You know you are right in saying that company sabotaging Tae is a sensitive topic and everyone has their views which can get messy. I respect your blog and your wishes to post your content however, I sometimes think you lack knowledge in the old happenings of BTS or aren't able to cover full content deeply. Please don't take it as something like I am taunting you. I understand you have a life outside fandom and no-one has the right to dictate what you should consume. I simply wanted to present a case that there might be a lot of things you might not notice maybe due to lack of time, interest or any justified reason. But that doesn't mean there might not be truth to sabotaging thing. You are also correct in stating that every solo fandom have problems with the bighit though that doesn't mean Tae is not being exploited. It maybe a heavier word I couldn't find the correct one.

My point is as you state that every member has unique bonds with each member and different level of skinship there is consistency in taekook which I accept though I am not a taekooker (I think I am on the road to be on one after reading your blog). Sorry I am digressing. All I am saying you should also look at consistency of bighit behaviour with Taehyung throught the years. I'll leave a link for you. Not everything would be objective but one can really find reality by looking at original content (as you always mention).

https://twitter.com/Tiffy_Russell/status/1037612533153247233?s=20

Your point of why would bighit sabotage Taehyung when he is filling their pockets is also valid. But again as you say things are not always black and white. I don't presume to know reasons but I can't turn an eye on evidence. I think as a Korean I understand the situation differently. Here, loyalty towards family is extremely important. Youngsters (millenials) are expected to be loyal to their elders and family even if you think they are not being fair to you. though youth are now more aware. Taehyung, is very unique. I don't think he has any love for company and pdnim but he is extremely loyal to his members. His patience, understanding, going out of the company to seek work for his solo era and yet be ready to re-sign is for members and not the company.

I think we should really see - what company is doing rather than asking why would they do it? My intention is not here to change anyone's views not I am asking you to boycott bighit. I am just presenting my views. Sorry for the long ask and my English and my inability to explain. Thank you for reading 🙏🏻

Hi anon!

Your English is fine, don’t worry about it at all 😊.

I am a relevantly newer fan. So there are absolutely things I’ve missed, though I am aware of the things that twitter thread mentioned. What I am definitely lacking is the vibe and feeling of certain situations. And this topic specifically is not something I am able to research well through looking at Run BTS, interviews, Bangtan Bombs, In The Soop, Bon Voyage, etc. I by no means think Bighit treats Tae (and the other members) well. I think they have consistently neglected taking care of the guys’s mental states. Tae has obviously suffered from it, and I think him having to stay a hidden member was very cruel, no matter what the reason behind that was.

Labels/music companies have only one goal, and that is to make money. They will do whatever they think best and the artists will just have to put up with it. There’s countless stories of artists being treated badly by their companies. I absolutely see that with BTS and Bighit as well.

What is the alternative though, if they were to choose a different company? Would things be better? From what I’ve heard other Korean companies are worse. Western companies certainly aren’t great as well and will not understand the members cultural background. So is there actually a better alternative?

When I talk about this (and yes I do so reluctantly) it’s with the present in mind. And I do not directly see signs of Bighit sabotaging Tae. They do promo, they give him opportunities, he seems happy to me, and his album is doing well. For me to think they were sabotaging him at this point, I’d have to see different things. There are actual cases of companies sabotaging their artists, and that includes having their music put on hold, never being allowed to publish an album, and worse things. Is the company fair to Tae? probably not. If boycotting them would be possible and actually help make things better for the guys, I’d probably join, because I think the music business as a whole could do with a reorganization.

I do see your point and I thank you for your insight on this 😊.

[tsuncda]

ooo ok idk if CYMs are allowed in here but

🪑 (chair) — come talk with me! i don’t have any ask games in mind, so come annoy me however you see fit <3.

maybe as ur playlists? bc u have some very cool names for them

omg,,,,,, your mIND is impossibly big for this, bestie!!!! i am a sucker for a good cym and nothing will bring me back to my tumblr rot than one of these bad boys <33

disclaimer that my memory has never been worse when it comes to who falls under the "mutual" category. i might forget some of you and i'm so sorry for that 😔✌️

@destourtereaux is despite everything, there is light (it's all my like,,,, soft core kpop that i listen to when i'm #overwhelmed on a monday evening and still have so much to do even though i'm so done with life itself. it's the perfect balancing act between a pick me up and a cradling hug that doesn't ask me to be okay,,, just get through <3) alternatively; we burn just like stars

@musicallisto is do you even dvicio? (because yeah <3 she's the only other girlie who understands the dvicio brainrot <3 also i heard a rumor that literally all of their love songs are written about her???? and like,,, i can confirm it's true. there's no better subject material for love songs than clara <3) alternatively; summer borne seconds? i only have 5. also; though their lips sound of things done

@amortensie is sing because you just need to sing (it's literally just musicals <3 nixie is that theatre kid out of all my mutuals and she should be immensely proud of that <3. also, there's so many different genres held within that behemoth of a playlist and nixie has multitudes and depth that we might never expect <3) alternatively; mele

@genyakosstyk is the haole boys know how to make good beats on occasion (this one is just a collection of white boy artists (hapa haole included!!!) and idk why i'm giving it to lottie, tbh. i just feel like she'd lovingly roast my occasional, misguided brainrot over objectively average white men like alec benjamin, but also let it happen and learn the lyrics to support me. it's a playlist i listen to when i want to tap into the teenage me who had a favorite backstreet boy, okay? ooooohhh... you know what? maybe this association came about because i associate lottie with &juliet... and they have a lot of white pop on that list.... yeah. i think that's it.) alternatively; six of crows radio

@bright-molina is summer borne seconds? i only have 5. (it's a 5SOS playlist. i think the association explains itself.) alternatively; stealing elias goldstein's headphones

@heliads is do i want roses? only if they sound like this. (it's a collection of music by the k-band the rose and i just,,,,,,, there's nothing more comforting in this whole wide world <3. why do i associate it with lisa? i mean,,, it's not a 1-1 association since i don't think lisa knows the rose exists, but i feel like their ~sound~ fits her vibes <3) alternatively; i am the sea or i am nothing

@oceanspray5 is heavy are the mountains; heavy the seas (this one is my like,,,, indie folk pop playlist. at least i think that's what the genre is...? the sound for of monsters and men. the oh hellos. the lumineers. idk why other than the sound fits the aesthetic of iffah's blog.) alternatively; a little parenthesis in eternity

@noesapphic is the dark of getting it (it's my secret agent au playlist. self explanatory vibes <3) alternatively; cantar

@the-radio-star is perhaps i am digging his grave (one of my oldest, most robust, and beloved playlist <3. it's arguably a lot of genres but it scratches the same itch of ~ooooooohhhh,,,, i'm dark and angsty and arguably a mess but also a bad bitch on alternating wednesdays~) alternatively; saranghae but it's a mournful yeehaw

@permanentreverie is bts mayhaps? (i think this one explains itself <3 but also!!!!!!!!!! bts changed me and so does lindsay. daily. not always for the better of society, but alas. change can never be contained to one linear direction <3) alternatively; thirteen of them but they take up seventeen places in my heart and; this world rests beneath a blood red sky

@biqherosix is tomorrow? girl, only if we're together (i don't think daniza knows txt - if you don't, this is my not so silent plea for you to give them a listen - but literally the vibes align so perfectly. she and txt get each other, they just don't know it yet. listen to 0x1=LOVESONG and tell me daniza wouldn't just,,,,, go feral to that song. also Lo$er=Lo♡er) alternatively; the haole boys know how to make good beats on occasion

@johnskeating is CELESTIAL (for obvious reasons (to her at least) that i will not disclose and neither will anyone else under threat of death <3. but also, it's a collaborative playlist with a lot of summer-adventures-with-your-best-friends vibes and that's cass <3) alternatively; all that's beyond my grasp

[boozles]

Yet again, I did my live blogging in my notes app before dumping it here 🙃

Okay. I’m trying to put my thoughts together about episode 4, but this was highly emotional for me from the start.

First off, the way Mew’s instinct was like, “I’m not picking you up if you’re drunk,” when Ray was literally in the middle of a sxicide attempt broke my heart. He thinks he’s a burden and should just ‘leave’ and his ‘emergency contact’s first reaction is to basically treat him as a burden. Like, I’m so glad that Mew realised what was going on, but the fact that this happened and two years later his whole friends group (including Mew) still call him a drunken burden…that hurts my soul.

Khaotung’s performance broke me. That was a scene that was too realistic and a bit triggering. I had to pause the video and have a little cry because I was not emotionally prepared (which is silly because I should have known P’Jojo would call us out).

(Actual gif of me watching this scene)

I think this also explains why Ray will drop everything for Mew; it’s not just because of his feelings, it’s because he promised to always be there, because Mew was there for him when he needed it most.

Oh no. Something feels very wrong that Ray let Mew wear the POOR BOY shirt. No, Ray. That’s for you and only you.

RAY NO. NO KISS MEW. BAD KITTY! THAT’S NOT ALLOWED. Although, at least he’s honest?

I’d like to use this scene as a comparison to Boston and Top, however; Ray was VERY wrong to kiss Mew when he was trying to sleep, but Ray dropped it after Mew warned him off. Boston NEVER backs off when Top tells him no (to the point he manipulated, coerced and gaslit Top into sex - sorry lads, I’m still not gonna blame Top for that completely, but it was a form of assault).

Top. A photobooth? Again?

Okay but Sand telling Ray to open himself up to new music and bands is literally a metaphor for Ray needing to move on. THIS FUCKING SHOW.

Gosh, I love Boston but every time he shows up I roll my eyes and glare XD

Haha Top now seeing right through Boston. Hindsight is 20/20 my friend.

OH HOLD UP NO IS TOP SLEEPING AROUND AGAIN NO BABY I CANNOT DEFEND YOU WITH THIS ONE - this has actually genuinely hurt me. The Boston thing I was dealing with, but the rando ex? No, that’s not something my little black heart can handle. OKAY I NOW KNOW ITS NOT CHEATING THANK THE GODS

Boston, you trying to be careful for your dad’s sake is making me laugh like hell. The shit you get up to and you’re worried about a photo?! (Although I think this sets up a future episode with a photo or sex tape leak.)

Oh, this episode is really showing Top’s nasty side. The thing is, I genuinely believe he was becoming a better person with Mew by his side and Boston has poisoned him right back to being how he was. Ugh. My heart is shattering.

‘I have nothing to hide’ SURE YOU DON’T TOP. WE BELIEVE YOU.

So, Top is into the nose candy. Is it bad that I prefer him on drugs rather than cheating? (Also, is it bad I want them to show Ray doing cocaine? I feel like Khaotung would do a very convincing job.)

Aw, why was the TopMew sexy times cut short? We can see Top, Nick and Boston being nasty but not Mew, Sand or Ray? XD

Ray starting the episode with Mew as his emergency contact and ending it with realising that maybe he needs to move on is perfect and the flow of this episode is just *chef’s kiss*.

(Shout out to P’Jojo for introducing me to another great Thai band, Selina & Sirinya)

Ugh I cannot handle this 7 day wait between episodes. This show is making it more difficult than any other, I swear.

[with-the-flickers-of-light]

I've seen some discussion of "what would it take to make fans (the ones who've stopped listening to her music, etc.) feel comfortable with Taylor again after this?", and I just want to throw in my two cents.

(To be clear, before I say anything else, it's completely okay if it would take something different for you to feel comfortable, whether that's more or less. And it's also okay if you're still comfortable listening to her music, going to her concerts, etc. even if she never says anything.

And she's also not obligated to do any of this ever. This is only about sharing how I feel.)

First up: timelines.

I've seen the concerns some fans have had about her safety should she speak up, given the stalking/lurking/not sure what to call it behavior of people at Electric Lady. And while I feel like denouncing things like Ghetto Gaggers should not be so controversial as to cause a security concern, that's not my field and I don't live in the US, so it's not my say. (Seriously, what is happening over there? On that note, this blog believes in abortion, gender-affirming surgery, the existence of drag, etc.) And even if it's not a big risk, I can understand the anxiety it could cause.

Anyways, for that reason, I'll personally be okay with it if she gives an official statement on this at a later date, such as at the end of the Eras Tour, to minimize safety risks and anxiety. And I'm definitely ok with it if she never says anything live (i.e. onstage, etc.) because it's complicated and it can be hard to put shit into words.

In the short-term, though, I would still need to either stop seeing Healy onstage at the Eras Tour, or get an apology/explanation from Swift and/or Healy. Again, not my field, but I wouldn't imagine that Healy not performing onstage at a Swift concert would be controversial enough to create a security concern.

(I also know that he's going on tour with The 1975 soon, so I guess he wouldn't be showing up then either way.)

In the time after the tour, when Swift has no obligation to appear in public, if she's still platforming Healy without an explanation, my hope will probably be dead.

What constitutes an apology/explanation?

I've already said on this blog that I don't feel Healy's past apologies have been acceptable ones. They've focused on "I feel a bit bad", "if you've felt offended", "it was just a joke", "it was misconstrued", "don't think I'm an asshole", "I'm embarrassed", and other turns of phrase that don't take real accountability. So what would I accept as an apology?

I think that for Healy, if I ever want to feel comfortable listening to his music, I would need an apology to include acknowledging the harm he's caused, accepting accountability for that, and promising to educate himself and do better in the future. And while I don't need to hear apologies for every single incident, I would expect something more than just "sorry for everything" or "sorry for that one time". I don't need to see a monetary donation to the groups he's targeted or outspoken political advocacy, but they would be helpful in affirming that he truly wishes to do better.

In Swift's case, I'd want an affirmation that she supports all the marginalized groups that Healy has targeted, and an apology for acting in a way that made her concerts and community feel unsafe. I'm not asking for her to become an outspoken BLM activist or anything -- I know she's a singer, not an activist, no matter what Miss Americana said -- but I would like her to address the things she's tacitly supported. Like Healy, it's not necessary, but given her net worth, putting her money where her mouth is would also be nice.

So, in the end, what I need to feel comfortable with Swift is one of the following:

Healy apologizes. Swift explains that in knowing him personally, she felt that Healy was no longer the piece of shit he was at the time of his crappy behavior. Swift apologizes for failing to realize the impact his past behavior would have on fans.

Healy apologizes for his actions OR Swift separates from Healy. She acknowledges her privilege in failing to realize how harmful his behavior has been and apologizes.

In the absence of either, I will be finding other artists to listen to. (I mean, I'm already doing that? But I mean she'll be permanently off my playlists.)

[esmiephan]

The owner of this bullshit post was thankfully deactivated (i mean, too bad that s/he couldn't take responsability for the shits s/he says, i wanted to talk "face-to-face" with him/her but now it's impossible), and the reblogs "defending Erik" didn't help in anything. It frustastes me how much the phandom looks weaker when defending Erik. It's not about wishing death to antis (even though they are toxic and even dangerous to other people who "love their enemy"), but letting it CLEAR that the things they say are wrong and hilariously stupid.

The phandom (mostly) loves Erik because he's nothing like this anti described. He was possessive and jeaously? YES HE WAS, and i'm not saying his relantionship with Christine was healthy (at least not 100%). But this person, who by the way seem to have missed the grammar class, describes him as a cruel and manipulative murderer. I wrote a whole blog better than this one explaining how Erik was not a cold-bloody murderer like some antis (and honestly some "phans" too) say. So it's useless to write everything again.

But let's talk about the manipulative. One thing that always bothered me when i watched the Andrew Lloyd's adaptation was Erik being such a liar manipulator, like, he even pretended to be Christine's father. It's not only hilariously unbelievable that a full grown woman would fall into such stupid lies because of a VOICE, but it's also something the original Lerik would never do. Yes, he lied to her about being the angel, but he regrets it deeply, he revealed the truth himself (unlike the musical) because he knew it was wrong and he needed to be close to her as a man. Plus, of course, he would NEVER, in a million lifetimes, pretend to be CHRISTINE'S FREAKING FATHER.

...and Leroux!Christine wouldn't be that dumb to believe him either. Lerik is the one who is easy to manipulate, and Christine uses his feelings to keep him calm and happy when he was with her in the underground. She knew he loved her, she feed that feeling and pretended to respond so she could discover more about him (and because she didn't want to hurt him). Christine is NOT A BAD PERSON, she is kind, foolish, strong and intelligent, but a lot of her actions are questionable the same way Raoul's (mainly) and Erik's are.

So yes, i understand when people are bothered with Merik being much more manipulative than he should be. But let's not forget that neither Merik or Lerik intented to hurt Christine, both of them loved her and regreted the wrong they did to her. And what bothers me so much is when this anti called Erik a rapist and pointed to Love Never Dies as an evidence of this supposed cruelty.

I'm very curious to know which part of his ass s/he found this information. This anti has literally no idea of what a RAPIST is. Rape is when a person forces sex into someone else, and such an abusive, disgusting act of cruelty DESTROYS the victim's life - the fact that we have to explain to antis what rape is and how it affects victims is... tragically disturbing. This person has no idea the consequences of her/him actions, his acusations, his words, literally no idea. You don't need to have more than 2 living neurons to understand Erik IS NOT, NEVER WAS, and doesn't even come CLOSE to a rapist. Imagine calling a perfect victim of physical/emotional/psychological abuse, social phobia, loneliness and emotional disorders a rapist... all because this person was jeaously of her/his crush?

It's hilarious to think someone could be so unscrupulous, irresponsible and obssessed over purity police to an innocent person like that. But yeah, here we are, answering a deactivated garbage post! And really, i tried to watch this "dark and unique" version of Webber's Crap Fanfiction Love Never Dies where Erik rapes or hurts someone, and i didn't find anything. If someone find the treasure that our lord purity-police here is talking about, please, link me? Because it would make me hate LND even more.

What really frustrates me is that Erik phans/stans are afraid of defending him and end up almost agreeing with a disturbed blog like this. He is not a villain, a man beyond redemption, a former MURDERER, a serial kidnapper, an obssessive dangerous stalker... or a romantic hero. He isn't any of these things. He is an anti-hero. A flawed man, fulled of traumas and social frustration, victim of abuse, with absolute lack of love, affection and tenderness, grown up with hatred, humiliation and violence, all of this shit life that made him emotionally instable, afraid of the society and desperate to be loved and accepted.

He was an asshole with Christine many times, no one is trying to deny or justify it. But he's not a bad person for this. He wronged a lot, but he recieved the compassion he needed and deserved from Christine. His toxic behaviour doesn't make him a monster - it's the opposite, he is the one who needed compassion the most. He was a genius, a noble man with a strong heart, but the circunstances of his life "forced him" to be an akward, lonely man that doesn't know how to socializate or express his feelings.

He is NOT capable of doing horrible things like some "phans" said (yeah, phans, not antis), at least not on purpose. He was forced to do gruesome actions in Persia, FORCED, in the place he was tortured and faced terrible traumatic experiences, but this is not his nature. If his mentally/emotionally instability makes him "dangerous", then he needed professional help, and not being called an unredeemable monstrous rapist by some petty anti.

Thanks for reading. A lovable kiss on your tiny cute butt.

[marengogo]

7 Nation Army - ZONNEBLOEM - Part 2: Living. Loving. Learning.

Listening to INDIGO by RM on repeat.

[Music is a very big part of my life and I’m MOSTLY INCAPABLE of writing without music, so I just thought I'd share what I am listening to while writing this]

–🐺–🐺–🐺–

I know I should be listening to playlists tailored to Indigo, in order to help with streaming, and I promise I will from Monday. What has been happening since Friday, is that I haven’t been able to stop listening to the album, day, night, it’s been on repeat and today for the first time I cried at the end of Change pt.2 “You can’t love someone like I do. That’s all I can say to you”. 

In a bit I’ll explain what that particular lyric meant to me. For now though I want to begin with thinking through the entirety of Indigo and its creation span: 2019 - 2022; from when he was 26 until 29. Indigo, thus far, is truly an album that has gone as close to one’s true feelings as an artist like Namjoon can, or rather, is able to. At least for now. 

[Up to this point I was writing with my own feelings ONLY. Then I got the notification of RM 'Indigo' Album Magazine Film which was very profound and kinda confirmed a lot of what i was going to write based on pure speculation. So I watched it and now I’m back to writing.]

If you’ve read a couple of my blogs you might be familiar with my writing style. I have what you would call a storyteller’s style. I think that events, be it a second in a moment, or life in general, have a defined structure, with a start, a mid section, and an end. Such is life after all; we are born, we live and then we die. 

Even within stories that have yet no ending or which start you are unaware of, within the context in which you begin narrating them, that will be your start, the moment you stop, that will be its end. Reason why, for the most part, people tend to love backstories and hate unfinished-stories. 

Backstories give you motive for things, sometimes even a justification if you will, something that you hope can help others better understand you and reasons for the things you do. Whereas unfinished stories are unsettling, the uncertainty-of-it-all is damning and the “what-ifs'' will literally drive someone crazy, because what if it happens to me? What if my story/life turns out to be unfinished? …”

All this just to appreciate and fawn over this man, even more than I already do. This wonderful man whose extreme mental affinity with mine was the reason why I even began to seriously get into BTS in the first place. From what I’ve gathered thus far, when it comes to creating art, we have a similar thought process, which is the storytelling approach that I’ve been talking about. 

There is a reason. Yup. And I felt it. From the moment he told us that this was “the last archive of my twenties” and then when he went even in more depth and explained that this was the period “from him being 26 to 29”, made even more sense why it felt like the 10 tracks seemed to be a natural progression with Yun being a Prologue and No.2 being an Epilogue to this chapter in his life.

If you watch RM 'Indigo' Album Magazine Film  he indeed goes very much in depth, and does confirm and explain about the times and ages of when he wrote some of the songs. If you think about it, his twenties began when they debuted in 2013 and up to circa 2016, all they had been doing, saying and singing was more or less a reflection of the people they were and they hoped to become; and then entered WINGS. The Wings Era was probably the first time they noticed that the face they saw in the more wasn’t themselves but some sort of mask.

This song being “Wild Flower”, basically Namjoon has been struggling for the majority of his 20s and no thanks to COVID. 2018, they survived disbandment. 2019, was supposed to be the beginning of their Chapter 2. Come 2020, the world would halt and he would have to keep living with this emotion, added to new ones, until now, 2022. 

And oh I find it so fitting that the person who produced (and co-wrote) “Wild Flower” is DOCSKIM, the same producer for “Lie” and “Outro: Tear”. It really makes so much sense. 

And can you imagine being the reason for another artist to not give up art? I mean! This man is the reason why Jimin could give a voice to his turmoil and our rapline could put their suffering to bed. He is a genius to me! Yet, he is human and like a flower he needed some water, among the many things, to keep flourishing, same as Namjoon, same as me, same as you.

Namjoon proceeds by saying that he wrote frog_tful at the age of 26, so in 2019. The whole conversation with him and Kim Sawol was so interesting and insightful. That aside, what really stood out for me is him mentioning and drilling in the fact that he has close friends, who aren’t the members. I do feel that sometimes this fandom has the notion that the members, except for Tae, only have each other. In reality, Jin aside, they all seem to have quite the big circle of close friends, famous and not. 

This to once again underline just how much we don’t know about their personal lives or just themselves as a whole. But isn’t this great?! Isn’t it great that somehow unbeknownst to us they still try their best to live, love and learn? This is literally what this album is about: The chronicles of Kim Namjoon’s living, loving and learning stories 2019-2022, and some. 

And amongst many other points (such as him hating hotel rooms) another point that was stressed in this album was that “Things change. People change. Everything change”. Yes. He did change and keeps changing. Who doesn’t? That is a direct reaction from the action of living. It’s the result of allowing yourself to love, and be loved and just as well as to hurt and be hurt. And after all that, there is always a lesson to be learned; now whether you attend that class or not, it’s entirely up to you. All shade, lately I’ve been strongly feeling that some ARMY could indeed use a closer look to the lyrics of this song, matter of fact, the entire album … jussayin.

 “You can’t love someone like I do. That’s all I can say to you”. Guess what? The same goes for everyone on this planet and this just seems to get lost in translation every fucking time. Don’t pardon my French. Love, love, love; can’t live with it, can’t live without it. There is a particular person in my family that keeps not understanding how much I love them, I'm pretty sure they think I don’t: how am I supposed to come out to them and have them understand the way I love when they don’t seem to understand even the basic form of it?

Yeah … I hope people understand how hard it is to live trapped in a room with your own Truth, constantly begging you to let them be free. “Set the Truth free and the truth will set you free” so they say, some heavy ass catch 22 uh? Honestly, I could go on and on and on talking about this album. In conclusion, I have been waiting for an album like this. Something that would keep me and my Truth company while we try to figure things out through all those times.

Always respectfully yours 🫰🏾💙,

Marengo.

I promise I have forgotten of WWH, I just needed this to be out before I tried to catch some more sleep.

[wawawawawawawawawawawawawa]

the anon who doesnt have aspd and taught myself empathy again here! i've never talked to a psych (self diagnosed autism) and as a teen i was p sure i had aspd (i Knew shit was strange w me and really wanted an explanation and once i figured out my mix of trauma and autism things made sense) coz lack of remorse and shit but i never actually really matched the rest of it -- i dont have substance abuse issues and never have, im p easily entertained, i've had the same three friends basically my entire life. i do though describe myself as the worlds most boring hedonist coz like yeah i sometimes have a hard time controlling my impulses and im motivated by fun but for me thats usually p simple -- easily entertained. read a book, video games, jump around to music. i AM frequently bored though?? like its my most frequent emotion and ive spent a Long time learning to cultivate my joy and really feel it properly. but im also the most easily excitable person i know. i dunno, i have v large emotions that appear then disappear quite quickly. a favourire hobby of mine since i was a kid has been to start arguments between the ppl i care abt and see how large i could make them in a single session then solve the argument w/o the ppl realising i'd manufactured and egged on the argument. which typing that out now seems uh. an interesting hobby. but late last year i told my younger brother and he laughed coz its a v me thing to do and was like "yo thats fucked. pls stop doing it to me" so since then ive mainly tried to just like playfully tease ppl in a normal way coz cognitively i understand its a fucked thing to do and im trynna be like, a decent person who doesnt go outta my way to play w ppl for funsies. which yeah that uh... maybe i Should look into aspd more again, i did a fairly shallow look into it as a teen and relating to azula as much as i did as a kid (and izaya as an older teen/young adult) was deff a sign of smth

i've followed you on this blog for a while (i think you'd only had it for a couple weeks when i first followed u?) so yeah i did know the story abt u and ur fiance! v cute

i feel like maybe we need a different identifier than "the anon who doesnt have aspd" because that might not be, uh. accurate! i have o clue why a lot of people with aspd seem to congregate around my account but i guess this is an aspd helpline now??????? whuh????

like im not complaining its just. how did i get here

also i think ive deadass used the "worlds most boring hedonist" descriptor for myself before and i deal w chronic boredom the same way you do- i have a LOT of hobbies and i plan elaborate projects and that entertains me but only temporarily

and thats the thing about aspd! it- like every other disorder- is a spectrum. you might not have substance abuse issues, and i do. you did.... your interesting hobby, and i find it morally fucked!* i have no idea your relationship with criminality, and i got fired for stealing

*i have done something similar but i have a moral policy of like, only fucking with people who Deserve It. who deserves what varies case by case and what exactly i do... i need to explain weird spiritual stuff to go in depth andyeah im not really itchin to be called crazy on tumblr dot cum

aspd in general is very misunderstood and no literature really focuses on what its like to have the disorder, only the perceived damage being around someone with the disorder will bring- which is why i initially self diagnosed thru tumblr posts from ppl talking about their symptoms in a serious educative way

sometimes i think like, maybe i don't have aspd, maybe i'm just autistic and i'm spreading misinformation- but i never really felt "at home" with other autistic people. its like- yeah i click better with other autistic people, but i'm still masking, i'm still faking, and even in this situation i can drop the mask partially but not fully. growing up with a personality disorder and trauma in communities largely filled with autistic people with trauma, very quickly teaches you that there's something different about you. it's an isolating, traumatizing feeling- my experience with this was mainly symptoms of npd, but like.... knowing you have a problem, wanting it fixed, and knowing nobody around you knows how deep the problem runs, and might even find its existence laughable or dangerous... it's isolating! and its shitty!!

generally i tend to Know if things i'm doing are bad or not, i just tend to not care in the moment, because it's better than being bored! entertainment wins out over everything. it's actually kind of terrible; i'll do stuff just to see a reaction out of people- it's like izaya, honestly, what happens when people are pushed to their breaking points?

thats kind of how i got so much into angst and psychological horror. not only did i want to break the characters, i wanted to break my audience. i'd tell my friends detailed stories about torture partly because i was interested in my story, mostly because i wanted to see their horrified reactions. i wanted to see how far was "too far," and i keep that stuff in my current narratives- i keep the pov extremely tight and do silly little tricks with narrative and formatting to make the audience feel like they're Really There

so yeah look into aspd. do it boy listen to me im the ps5 im speaking to you inside your brain. do it boy do it

[wicked-d00d]

Dizzy leaves the lecture hall with her backpack on her shoulders. As she walks down the hallway, she passes by other students who seem more engaged in their classes than she is.

"Everyone else looks so focused. Why am I like this? What happened to my brain?"

Dizzy enters an empty bathroom stall where she lights up a joint. She takes several deep breaths as she exhales smoke into the air. "I've been smoking weed since I was 12 years old," says Dizzy. "It helps me focus."

She then goes outside for some fresh air before returning to school. On her way out of the building, she sees another student lighting up a cigarette. The two exchange nods and smile at each other.

After getting home, Dizzy sits down at her desk and opens her laptop. She pulls up her online coursework and begins studying.

“Why did I even bother coming to college?” wonders Dizzy. “I don’t want to learn anything! All I care about is getting high and having fun!"

Dizzy closes her computer and puts away her books. She grabs her phone and starts scrolling through social media posts.

“Look at how much fun everyone else is having without me,” laments Dizzy. “They’re partying all night while I sit here alone.”

Dizzy gets up off the couch and heads over to her bedroom window. She gazes out onto the street below and watches people walking around town.

“What do they have that I don’t?” asks Dizzy. “How come they can go out there and enjoy life but not me?”

Dizzy returns to her room and lies down on her bed. She rolls herself a joint and lights it up.

“This is what I live for!” exclaims Dizzy. “Weed makes everything better!”

Dizzy continues rolling joint after joint until she falls asleep.

She wakes up late the next morning. Her roommate knocks on the door and tells her that she needs to get ready because they are going to miss class if they don’t hurry.

“You know you should stop doing drugs,” says Dizzy’s roommate. “Your parents would kill you if they knew you were using marijuana every day.”

Dizzy ignores her roommate and continues rolling joints. After finishing one last joint, she stands up and heads towards the shower.

“I guess I could try to quit tomorrow,” thinks Dizzy. “But today isn’t tomorrow yet…”

Dizzy finishes taking a shower and dries off. She puts on her clothes and heads out the front door.

“Maybe I will just skip class today,” muses Dizzy. “I mean, why waste time learning when I already know everything anyway?”

Dizzy arrives at campus and decides to head straight to the library instead of attending any classes. Once inside, she finds a seat near the windows and turns on her laptop.

“Now let’s see what happens when I look up "Guilty Gear" on tumblr...”

Dizzy scrolls through various images and videos related to Guilty Gear. She comes across a blog called @gear-project​, which contains information about the characters and storyline of the games.

“Wow, these guys really love Guilty Gear,” observes Dizzy. “And they actually put together a lot of cool stuff too.”

As Dizzy reads through the articles, she learns many interesting facts about the world of Guilty Gear, including herself. She was surprised to learn that she hatched from an egg.

“That explains why I always feel like I’m missing something,” remarks Dizzy. “I wonder what I looked like before I grew feathers and wings?”

Dizzy spends hours reading through the website. When she finally feels satisfied, she logs off and shuts down her computer.

Dizzy heads back to her dorm room and prepares dinner. While eating, she receives a text message from her friend asking her to hangout later tonight.

“Sure thing,” replies Dizzy. “Just give me a few minutes to take a nap first.”

Dizzy smokes a bowl and falls asleep shortly afterwards.

“Alright, let’s go find our favorite DJ!” proclaims Dizzy. “He’ll play us the best music ever!”

Dizzy leads her friends through the crowd and eventually locates the entrance to the dance floor.

“Here we go!” cheers Dizzy. “Party time!”

The group of friends enter the club and begin dancing along to the music. They drink alcohol and smoke cigarettes throughout the evening. At midnight, Dizzy and her friends leave the club and walk back to their cars.

“Let’s meet up again next week,” suggests Dizzy. “I think I might have found a new place to party.”

Dizzy drives home and parks her car in the garage. She locks the doors behind her and heads upstairs to her bedroom.

“Time to relax and unwind,” declares Dizzy. “Tomorrow is another day.”

Dizzy turns on her television and flips through channels until she reaches the news station. A report catches her attention.

“Oh no,” gasps Dizzy.

A picture appears on screen showing a man being charged with possession of illegal substances. He is identified as Johnny Gears, a well known drug dealer in the area.

“Johnny Gears is dead,” announces the anchorwoman. “Police say he died during a shootout with officers earlier this afternoon.”

Dizzy jumps up from her chair and runs over to the TV set.

“No, please tell me it wasn’t him!” pleads Dizzy. “Please tell me he didn’t die!”

Dizzy paces back and forth in her living room. She tries calling his number multiple times but keeps receiving voicemail messages.

“Where are you Johnny?” screams Dizzy. “Don’t leave me! Please answer your phone!”

Dizzy throws her cellphone against the wall and collapses onto the ground. Tears stream down her face as she mourns the loss of her beloved supplier.

“My only source of supply is gone forever,” moans Dizzy. “There must be someone else out there somewhere. But who? Where? How?”

Dizzy remains on the floor crying for hours. Eventually, she calms down enough to stand up and turn off the television.

“I guess I’d better start looking for a new supplier,” reasons Dizzy. “At least I still have my job to fall back on.”

The next day Dizzy woke up and rolled another joint before heading to her shift at McDonalds

Dizzy walks into work and clocks in for her shift, high as usual. As usual, she greets her coworkers by saying hello.

“Hey Dizzy,” says one of them. “Didn’t you hear? Your boss fired you yesterday.”

“WHAT?!” yells Dizzy. “NO WAY!! WHY???”

Dizzy rushes outside and calls her manager.

“Hello?” answers the voice on the other end.

“Hi Mr. Johnson,” says Dizzy. “It’s me, Dizzy. What happened? Why am I no longer employed?”

Mr. Johnson sighs heavily before answering.

“Dizzy, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this for some time now," begins Mr. Johnson. "Unfortunately, I had to fire you due to excessive tardiness."

“Tardiness? That’s ridiculous!” argues Dizzy. “I never showed up late once since I started working here!”

“Yes, but you also missed more than half of your scheduled shifts,” responds Mr. Johnson. “And you smell like you've been smoking weed.

“Smelling like weed doesn’t make me late,” retorts Dizzy. “Besides, how did you even notice? You hardly pay attention to anything around here!"

“Look, Dizzy,” says Mr. Johnson. “I understand that you may need help dealing with certain issues in your personal life. However, I cannot allow you to continue coming to work while under the influence of narcotics or alcohol. It simply isn’t safe for anyone involved.”

“Fine then,” agrees Dizzy. “If you aren’t willing to accept me for who I am, then I guess I’ll just have to move on without you.”

Dizzy leaves the restaurant and heads toward her house. On the way, she passes by a convenience store where she buys snacks and sodas.

Once home, Dizzy takes a long bath and relaxes in the tub. She gets high and enjoys listening to music and watching movies all night. The following morning, Dizzy awakens feeling refreshed and energized.

“Okay, so I lost my job,” reflects Dizzy. “But I still have plenty of money left in my bank account. And I can get more whenever I want if I keep doing what I do best.”

Dizzy rolls another joint and lights it up. She continues smoking marijuana throughout the rest of the day and falls asleep sometime in the early hours of the morning, ready for her next adventure.

[dojae-huh]

Completely agree with your standpoint on the NCT Home app issue.

I personally think that it was harmless, except for the fact that SM is capitalising on fans nonstop but what's new? They'd do anything to promote the Neos, even if making them into controllable avatars.

Maybe they view it as dehumanising since the movement of the graphics seems very unsettling, and with the rising issue of how deepfakes are ruining people's lives could explain the mass fear of the app. But the Neos have agreed to the idea, given if they were briefed and signed a contract before shooting all the angles. So what's the big harm? They consented, just as how other form of fanservice they have done.

Fans should address the "dehumanising" issue from another standpoint - how SM is less focusing on their musical talent and promoting their idol image as products. Nowadays it's all about looks - all these merchandises with their beautiful images being sold and of course fans (and me) will spend some money (for Doyoung's pretty smile). SM and the NCT team needs to reflect on what even started the Neo movement, because now it's getting pretty stale... How the "Neo" brand is presented to the public... It's what made NCT special from other groups, and I really love their uniqueness and bravery to challenge different concepts each time. Hopefully after all this SM mess die down, we'll get NCT 2020 back (one of their best comebacks).

Thanks for reading my 2 cents, love your blog!

I agree, AI imitating art, deep fakes, body shape enhancing and skin smoothing filters are very new phenomenas, people are still sorting out how they feel about it, where is the line, what is ethical and what is not. Because there is no consensus, it attracts attention and provokes thought.

I can't be sure, however, I suspect that Japanese and Koreans saw no problem with the app. They are much more accustomed to virtual reality and virtual idols, the idea of robots looking like humans, etc. Look at how idols often play with face demorphing filters. It is fun, not scary. At least at this stage, when the line moved just a tad, when it is still "just a game".

To make it clear, I agree with the fans who don't like the app. It is better to stop a malpractice at the beginning than fear SM will release your bias avatars in the future for sell. I would prefer to have Naevis kind of avatars, completely made from scratch. Still, is there really a big difference between making a digital likeness of an idol to open its mouth and making a flesh-and-blood idol to open his mouth by showing a funny cartoon as an instruction to action? In the first case it's emotionless pixels, in the second case it's a real person with feelings you have an eye contact with in a situation where you are in a position of power over him for a minute.

There are "class clown' people who will do a lot to get attention, ilicit a laugh and be cheered on. These type of people do aegyo and everything else with ease. And, surelly, there are "dancer"/"show off" type of people who are very in tune with their body and sexuality and are not afraid of being sexy or even provocative at all. It doesn't apply to all idols. Some have to bear through the tasks, psychologically adjust, internalise their feelings because "it's what the fans want, it's what is needed to be done to achieve popularity". However, because "it is the norm", only extreme cases "warrant" concern from fans.

The Neoness... I'm waiting for the new comeback. 127 and NCT2023's run in 2023 will tell if the new SM showrunners remember the roots and the main idea or not.

Do you know that idol pictures evolved from prints of portraits of Japanese kabuki actors? Ans that mostly the actors survived thanks to their patrons not tickets? Koreans imported a lot of J-pop practices in the beginning.

As said as it is, the music doesn't sell on its own. It is well known that even cello players who cover rock bands and modernise classic pieces have to be conventionally attractive to make it big in general public. And, let's be completely brutally honest, many of neos are not that talented to make it on singing/dancing skills alone. Not even Doyoung. Therefore, I just accept the promotional idol part of things. I agree, though, that 127 need to comeback to neoness. Taeyong's hairdo in "Ay-Yo" was a breath of fresh air...

The solos released by SM these past months for other SM artists make me be at ease. The music is good, the albums are nice to look at, there are thought-through concepts. Jaehyun got a nice video for his solo song. It was promoted in a quite way, by the way. Many magazines included it in the top 20 songs of the year lists. Renjun does a lot of covers for YT. Taeyong released several dance videos for his unreleased tracks.

"Killing voice" happened. Karaoke sessions and singing in a cafe live were shot and uploaded to YT. Xiaojun was sent to shows where he sang live. So SM staff does some work in this direction. Not enough, I agree. It will be nice to see neos more often on those programmes that allow to showcase vocal abilities.

[frzngrapes]

whoever the fuck these are, pt.1:

Keycie

Recently, I have invented these... I would say OCs, but they're not part of any story. I think it would be more accurate to call them personas, or avatars idk. (i vent and introspect a lot in this, i low-key wrote this for my therapist, she keeps asking me about my characters and imaginary friends)

Physical appearance: we have the same face (picture a pretty black girl... yea that's me. maybe a bit paler) All of these little characters do. Except Cherry. Cherry doesn't have a face. But Keycie has a bigger afro. Really really long hair, she gets asked if they're real often. And they're purple! she has braces with rainbow elastics, and oversized round glasses. You can picture her with sparkling purple fairy wings, or not.

Fashion style: maximalist and inventive. lots of colours and sparkles. Sparkles and rhinestones are a VERY big part of her fashion. she loves anything frilly, her favourite fashion item is tutu skirts. heavy decora and scene influences.

colors: purple, rainbows, neon colours, anything sparkly, animal patterns

TV show: Monster High, Project Runaway

tunes: Keycie's playlist

gender: none (any pronouns, prefers she/they/it/doll)

age: 15

zodiac: Leo sun, Aries rising, Gemini Mars

art, mediums and techniques : aquarelles, collages, crayons, clothes and furnitures, amateur music

.

Anyways, meet the coolest person ever: Keycie! Keycie the person I thought I was going to be, when I was a child. If a few things went differently, I'm sure I would've became her. What should I explain firsts... maybe her name?

I never identified with my dead name. When I was a kid, I wanted people to call me Keycie. Because pronounced in English, that's what my initials were: KC. Also because it sounded like the name an American cheerleader in a Disney Channel show could have, and I wanted to be a cheerleader (and a Disney Channel character). So that became my alias on literally every online game for young girls (moviestarplanet, amour sucré, shopaholic and the list goes on), and on my 3DS

okay, so Keycie lives in an alternate reality, she obviously doesn't exist here. We communicate by sending each other letters, she's wise, and honestly smarter [when I was a kid, people told me i was smart all the time. i got good grades easily and my mom would tell me i was better than the others, and should be n°1. tbh, 8yo me though she was a genius, and more mature than others (i would literally ask my mom to make me run an iq test, i was persuaded it would turn out higher than average lmao (i never took the test)... but now i feel so dumb, behind, and incapable, how ironic.] than me, so she gives great advice, but she's a bit clueless. She doesn't know much about our reality, I have to explain everything to her, in great details.

Now let's move on to her life! The key part is that Keycie does a lot of things. She does rhythmic gymnastics, and theater. She sews her own clothing and when she doesn't, she customs things from the thrift store. She runs a fashion blog and post her outfits on Instagram, because she doesn't care what her classmates would think about it. She loves learning kpop dances and posts her covers on Instagram, she doesn't do things to be good, she does them to have fun! She knows how to sing and posts her covers on YouTube, because she isn't scared of being made fun of. Actually she makes her own music too. She makes silly little tunes on garage band, and she is in a band. She plays the drums there, but she also knows how to play the bass, the guitar, the piano and how to sing [nothing related to my childhood, i just think it's cool. Oh! but there's an instrument i wanted to know how to play as a child!]. She plays the violin too. I don't actually think it's that possible for a human being to do that many stuff with their lives, but if 10 years old Vi saw me doing absolutely nothing he would be heartbroken. Oh, she loves reading, she spends hours and hours reading, whole afternoons, she reads until 4am. She writes fantasy and dystopian novels. they're not that good but she's getting better and better. Also, she's weirdly knowledgeable on science, she does well in physics, chemistry and biology class, actually she loves them!

Keycie is 15 years old. She doesn't know what she wants to do in the future (profession wise) yet but she has so many options because she loves so many things. She loves going to school, she absolutely loves finally being in highschool! She has top tier grade because as a kid I would've never imagined the effortless As i used to get would lead me to not knowing how to work, how to learn and how to study yk. Growing up, she learnt how to put in the extra work, that separated being naturally good and "avoir des facilités" (being "gifted") from being the best. Her mom and dad are proud of her. because She is finally fixed, time fixed her: she can focus on a task, she doesn't forget to do things, she doesn't procrastinate, she can manage herself properly, be organized, have a clean and clear bedroom. When she has a project she takes it to the finish line. She got into that selective design section in high-school, she did.

she has no actual irl friends and she thinks she's ugly. she never fell in love. She doesn't go a day without asking herself why she is in the world. What does she have to bring? she wants to change the world, or maybe to disappear, because she thinks if she can't leave an impact, there's no point in existing at all. She tends to lack empathy. I don't know how to explain it but she is so very disconnected from others,, she's literally not part of our world, she's in her own and She doesn't care about the real one. the fantasy of a kid that manifested into some reality, She might as well be a fairy or have psychic powers. if you get to talk to her, she will be clueless about what you're saying and probably answer something completely unrelated. She can be... idk, insensitive? when I first started sending her letters, she would reply things like "well, It could be worse". but overtime she learnt how to be a good listener :)

I feel like she used to be me in some way, up until some point, but without knowing I lost her. You know how she's very talkative? these days I'm very quiet. I kind of lost the sparkles. If primary school me saw me last year, she would think (aside from some details): "Yup, that's me makes perfect sense. Not too surprised I turned out like that". I was still partially Keycie. And I guess she would recognise me when i'm with my best friends. But if she saw me any other time (aside from when i'm making art, playing bass, or taking walks in nature), she would be so confused. Because I lost Keycie. do i make sense? before, I used to know who I was, and I miss that. This character, and the letters I write for it are a way for me to honour the person i used to be, and the dreams i had

I know it's normal that I'm not her. It's normal to fail, it's normal to change, it's normal to deviate from the path, to be deceived by the world, to struggle and to grow up. But i don't want to. I guess I have to suck it up, to evolve even if it's to be someone else. And I'm sure as I heal, I will find bits of her back. Keycie isn't perfect, and I can't be a kid forever

I forgot to mention: she has a cat and a well decorated bedroom with many plants and a Monster High dolls collection.

[with-seokjin]

I was dreading writing this someday but unfortunately, some things we can’t change, especially in situations like this. As most of you know, Seokjin has enlisted in the military. The only emotions I have to explain how I’m feeling other than anxiety, a huge pang of sadness and this weird sense of mixed emotions I can’t exactly pinpoint. 

I have been an army for a long time and when I first got into them, their enlistment wasn’t even talked about because they were so young. Of course, as the years passed by, it started being talked about but there was this part of me that hoped that something, some miracle was going to happen so they didn’t have to do their enlistment but this was completely out of my control and I can’t change the rules, even if I wanted to with my whole being. This is happening whether I want it to or not. I knew it would happen my heart wasn’t prepared for it and I don’t think I could even if I tried. 

Ever since I was a baby army, Seokjin stood out to me, and he wasn’t even my bias at the time. I was always interested in him because sure he was handsome and talented but there was something about his personality that made me relate to him and realize that his “cold” personality wasn’t him and he is literally one of the most adorable humans I have ever seen inside and out and I needed to learn more about him. I instantly fell in love with bts and him even more. I made a dedicated blog for him (this exact one!), I watched every award show, run bts, and everything I could, and I tried not to miss out. This was the peak of my mental health is really bad and for the longest time, bts was holding me above water and bringing me joy when I felt like nothing else could. I totally believe my high school years would have been even worse without them and I will be forever grateful. 

I left being active in the fandom due to personal stuff until last year. I stumbled upon the PTD LA concert pictures and streams on twitter and seeing them together,  being their happy, free, selves during PTD brought me joy I can’t explain! It made me realize what I was missing in my life and what made me fall in love with them, to begin with. The part that made me sob was when everyone did the birthday project for Seokjin. Seeing him so happy and overwhelmed with emotion brought me so much joy. He deserved his last birthday with army in person for a while to be special and it was! I think it’s exactly what he wanted.

This year has been a hard one for a lot of us and I know this huge event will change things I want to remind everyone that we have each other! I have personally met some of the nicest people and I know I have people I can lean on during hard times! It’s okay to reach out to friends, even if they are someone you met online! Nobody has to deal with this alone and shouldn’t have to either so please, reach out, and let your feelings out! Friends, reach out to people you haven’t talked to in a while who may be affected by this! We are a fandom that loves and cares about each other and it’s time to express that! We will be okay as long as we have each other. 

Seokjin,  My heart is heavy and I know this isn’t a goodbye, but a see you later, and it still makes my heart ache. I can’t put into words the impact that you and bts have had on me but it’s so huge. I know I wouldn’t be the same person without the music you have created. I will be forever thankful for you. You are my comfort, one of the funniest people I have experienced and someone with such a kind heart. Things won’t be the same without you but I promise, you have a huge list of people who will be excited and so happy to see you when your enlistment is finished, I’m one of them. 

Please stay warm, be safe and come back better than ever! We will take care so you should too! We love you, our moon! 

[aceteling]

I posted 4,042 times in 2022

That's 94 more posts than 2021!

123 posts created (3%)

3,919 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ayakashibackstreet

@treecakes

@junecsea

@mihai-florescu

@olivemeister

I tagged 2,284 of my posts in 2022

Only 43% of my posts had no tags

#enstars - 409 posts

#vanitas no carte - 220 posts

#idolish7 - 215 posts

#hunter x hunter - 114 posts

#domi talks - 96 posts

#the untamed - 88 posts

#mp100 - 81 posts

#pokemon - 77 posts

#tgcf - 62 posts

#eurovision - 56 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i dont want to be selfish but she says selfish when she rly means 'you should spend your entire day doing productive things around the hous

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

coloured my sketch from yesterday!! *clenches fist* It’s the childhood friends trope that gets me everytime

commission info!!

38 notes - Posted September 23, 2022

#4

random things about IDOLiSH7 i absolutely adore and it makes i7 one of the best shows i’ve watched (not kidding)

the ensemble cast is likeable, very well-written, noone feels left behind by the narrative or unexplored. you really grow to love all the characters, understand them. The character development blows you away; they all feel three-dimensional, all have their own stories to tell. They feel like real people

great music, and of great variety, too! at first you think you’re in for generic idol tunes, but even the main group, whose sound is the most ‘typical cheery idol’ type, branches out into different directions later

amazing storytelling and direction - the anime makes great use of various angles, as well as music to help convey feelings on screen; it definitely improves overtime, too.

drama, so much of it but it all feels very much justified, there isn’t drama just for the sake of drama. It alignes perfectly with the show’s themes, explores the highs and lows of the idol industry, as well as relationships between the characters.

the stories connect in unexpected ways... and then you realize the foreshadowing was already there! it’s very clever and satisfying

there’s so much love in it! the love in universe that characters have for each other, the love their fans give them; the love that emanates from the studio, the staff, the director... it’s all about love

there’s way more but I would combust if I started to explain it all. the point is - so many people in the western fandom spaces seem to dismiss i7 as yet another idol show (funnily enough it’s so huge in Japan), which has its perks (we’re all just here in our small corner), but it really is not doing justice to this great show. it’s so good... ahhh i love IDOLiSH7 I love it so much

52 notes - Posted October 19, 2022

#3

commission info!!

COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN!

heyy, the inflation in Poland has been making it really hard to make ends meet and I’m jobless right now so I’m opening commissions! If you’re interested please contact me via PM or e-mail; all the info is shown above on my lovely boy Aira Shiratori but I’ll write the prices once again under the read more to make things easier - there are also art examples there!

SKETCH:

head/bust: 5$

half body: 6$

full body: 7$

LINEART:

head/bust: 7$

half body: 8$

full body: 9$

FLAT COLOUR:

head/bust: 9$

half body: 10$

full body: 11$

FULL COLOUR+SIMPLE SHADING:

head/bust: 11$

half body: 12$

full body: 13$

ART EXAMPLES:

See the full post

98 notes - Posted July 22, 2022

#2

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will always hold you close

But I will learn to let you go

I promise I'll do better

Light by Sleeping at Last

boy it’s been a while.

commission info!

184 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

💕happy satogou day!! 3/15💕

318 notes - Posted March 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →