#I only ever listen to songs on loop so I end up not focusing on the lyrics after a while

[theokusgallery]

Oh btw 3 days ago After making you Discover Oleander I had a stupid non-canon concept in my mind

Nick & Sunny Except that their eyepatches Are Oleander shaped Or Under The eyepatch theres an Oleander Replacing the Missing Eye

My Autism Going Brrr with how i could use The Oleander's Symbolism with these two

I'm literally listening to Orelander right now. This is really good timing

[artists-ally]

{She Gets The Flowers, Right?} Lucien x Reader

You all can go and blame @thelov3lybookworm for the swarm of Lucien content y'all are gonna get from me. This is probably one of the saddest things I've ever written and it took me wwaayy back to a very shitty relationship I was in so if it seem extra personal it is 💀 Enjoy, title from this song!

Word Count: 3,108

Warnings: ANGST (just for you @bubybubsters) mentions of murder (in relation to Jesminda)

Summary: Lucine has been so focused on trying to win over Elain that he's never once stopped to consider that you're the one who's always been there for him.

~~~~~

The door slammed. A breath sighed from the entryway. I went stiff. 

“I don’t understand,” Lucien shouted. I could hear him kicking off his boots, hanging his jacket up on the rack by the door. “I thought we were finally making some progress and then nothing. Absolutely nothing today.”

I remained silent, swiping off the stuck scallions on my knife. “Sorry.”

“I mean, I get that she needs time to adjust, but Cauldron, Yn. It’s been nearly a year since the war ended. I’ve been patient, more than patient, and it’s like I’ve never made an effort.”

“Told you it was a bad idea.”

“What is it about me that she cannot stand? What does Azriel offer her that I don’t? He walks in the room and she lights up. What do I have to do to get her to look at me like that?” I just shrugged, moving to the sink to wash some sprouts and potatoes. Lucien was caught in this never ending cycle of trying to win over Elain. For the past year, almost year and a half, he has been torturing himself with something that obviously won’t be. 

“Do you think she’d enjoy it if I took her to the Summer Court? Maybe she’d enjoy a trip to Dawn?” Lucien sat at my kitchen table, tapping his heel on my hardwood floor with his arms crossed over his chest. “We did actually talk for a while today. She ended up telling me her plans for her fall garden.”

“Sounds nice.”

“But I just wish she would open up a little more. Every time we talk it’s like I have to pry it out of her.” “Mhmm.”

“It makes me so nervous when she closes up like this. I can’t imagine what is going through her head. She won’t tell me. She won’t tell anyone, which is concerning. I just wish she would at least tell someone about what is going on. I’d even be okay if she told Azriel.”

“Yeah.”

“If only she would just reach out. Even an inch, just tug on the bond and acknowledge that it’s there. It wouldn’t bother me as much if she would just give us a chance.”

Lucien continued to blabber again, droning on and on about how Elain won’t do this or talk about that. I tuned him out, biting back the sting of jealousy in my throat. That familiar prickle in my nose forced me to grip the spoon harder. 

He never listened to me anymore. He’d come and ask me for advice, to see what my opinion was on what he should do, and then blatantly do the opposite. But every time he came back, I’d give him more. Just like he was stuck in a loop with Elain, I was just as guilty of the same with him. 

I was the one who had found him on the border after his Jesminda was murdered. I had been there to help him get settled, to get revenge on his brothers who forced him to watch. For decades I have been doing the same thing he has for Elain. 

The only difference is I know how to take a hint. Luciene doesn’t. 

“... and then when I asked if she would join me for a walk, she refused. I mean, she knows how important it is to get outside every now and then. She had said she wanted to garden and plant new seedlings for the upcoming winter but… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Yeah I bet that’s tough.”

“Tough?” So he did know how to acknowledge the things I said. “It’s excruciating. You have no idea. Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?”

It took all the strength inside me to not hurl this knife at his head. “What’s the point anymore?”

“What?” “You don’t listen to anything I say anymore anyways, so why bother?” I snorted, shaking my head. “I could’ve announced my pregnancy right now and you would’ve been too lost in thought about her to even register.”

“You’re pregnant?” 

I slammed my knife down on the counter and whipped to face him. “No, I’m not. But if I was, I sure as hell wouldn’t tell you.”

“Why? We’re best friends, Yn. Don’t you think I’d wanna know if you were-”

“That is not the point of the conversation, Lucien,” I snapped. He just stared at me, waiting for an elaboration. I just sighed, “Whatever. Doesn’t matter.” “Did something happen today? You’re clearly in a bad mood.” “No. Absolutely nothing happened. Only that I had the grand opening of my restaurant today and you were nowhere to be found. You were with Elain.”

Lucien went silent. I could feel the energy shift from across the room. “Cauldron boil me… Yn I am so sorry. I thought that was next week, why didn’t you remind me yesterday?”

“I did,” I said. “I reminded you yesterday before you went up to the House to be with Elain. And the day before, and the day before that.”

“I think I would’ve remembered if-”

“Would you?” The tears were coming. Fast. It was a struggle to keep them from spilling over. “Because every time I’ve said anything, you’re talking about her. It’s always fucking her.”

“Why are you talking about Elain like that? What did she do to you?”

I just stopped moving. Stopped breathing. Stopped thinking. The chill that spread through my bones should’ve been enough to kill me. I ground my teeth together hard enough to crack. “Ever since we came to this gods damned Court all you have talked about is her. It’s like I’m not even here anymore.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” Lucien stood up. 

“When was the last time you asked how I was doing? If the designs for the menus are finished? If I’ve picked out new tiles for my bathing room or if I’ve finally finished that collage I was working on? How long has it been since we’ve been out together or gone diving in the Sidra? For fucks sake Lucien it’s like I’m best friends with a ghost.”

All Lucien offered was a turn of his palms, lips parting to answer but no words came out.

“Exactly. You can’t even remember. Any time we talk it’s always about her. It’s always Elain this and Elain that. I’m fucking sick of it, Lucien. You’re constantly asking for advice on what to do with her, but have you ever stopped and thought about what you’re doing?”

“Every day it haunts me that I can’t reach her, Yn,” Lucien's brows knit together. “I come to you because I value your advice.”

“Well you can stop. I don’t have any more to give. Now, you can either change the topic or get the fuck out because I’m sick of hearing about her. Today was supposed to be my day. I don’t ever ask you for anything, and this is the one thing I wanted. And you were supposed to be there for me, your friend, your best friend. But of course, the female who won’t give you the time of day has to take priority over someone you’ve known for almost a century.” 

“Are you so selfish that you can’t be happy for me for finding a mate after so many years? Are you that jealous that I’ve decided to spend some of my time with anyone else?”

Blinding red rage coursed through me. I let everything I had been holding back for months seep through. “How dare you say that to me.”

“Yn-”

“If you interrupt me I swear to the Mother that I will break your fucking neck.” I watched him swallow his response. “If you think I am unhappy with your bond then you don’t know me at all. I want nothing more than for you to be happy, Lucien. But I would be lying if I said it didn’t make me sick to my stomach.”

“Elain is sweet. Nurturing and caring,” Lucien pointed out. "What's so bad about that?"

“Does she know anything about you?”

 “We’ve… talked about some things.”

“So does she know about your brothers?” His face paled. “Does she know about all the fights you got in with Tamlin? Does she know about Jesminda or how many years it took you to be able to hear her name and not burst into tears at the first syllable?”

“That’s not fair.”

“I think it’s perfectly fair, Lucien,” I shouted. My skin was blisteringly hot. All control was quickly crumbling. “The moment Elain came along, you forgot all about me. I am the only living being that has been there with you through everything. Through the destruction of the Spring Court, through Hybern. You begged me to come with you to Velaris, I gave up everything for you.”

“You wanted to leave, too. Don’t put all this on me,” Lucien said, waving his arms in the air. 

“I did it because of you. How dense are you, Lucien? How blind are you to not see that every decision I have made since I met you has been for your well being?”

“I never asked that of you.”

“No, you didn’t. Because you’ve never once considered that I would do it without a second thought. I care about you. I was the one you wept to every time Elain rejected you, and yet, every single time you ran right back to her. I don’t know what you see in her. I think she has made it incredibly clear that she wants nothing to do with you.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know anything about us.” Lucien’s eyes went dark, his mouth pressed in a flat line, nostrils flared. 

I scoffed. A harsh, bitter laugh falling from my lips. “Did you seriously just say that to me? All I do is listen to you complain about her and how she doesn’t open up. About how closed off she is. For Cauldron's sake, Lucien, you had the balls to come here after opening day, after blowing me off, to talk about her. Want some advice? Take a nice long look in the mirror.”

“Why can you just not accept the fact that I might want to have a relationship with her? Why can’t you be happy for me?”

“Because what does she have that I don’t? What is it about her that you could possibly like more than me? Cauldron damn me, Lucien, we live together. I cook for you every day, we have breakfast and tea together.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Lucien furrows his brows together.

I could feel my heart start to splinter into however many pieces to double the amount of stars in the sky. All the love and contained affection I’ve had since I met Lucien has washed away in a moment. All those heart to hearts, all those late nights spent atop the House of Wind… all for nothing.

“You’re right,” I nodded, letting several tears run down my cheeks. “It means nothing. I have no reason to be mad at you for simply wanting to find love.”

Lucien sighed, a heavy, grueling noise. “Yn-”

“You know, everyone from back home kept saying that I was making a mistake, that I shouldn’t run off here with you. I think they’re right. This was all a mistake. I should’ve left you to rot on the side of the border.”

Color flushed his face and neck. Silence cursed us and I could only hear my occasional sniffle and the rapid beating of my heart. 

“Tell me this, Lucien. Do her eyes look better when they shine?”

“What? Yn why are you-”

“Does she look prettier when she cries? Am I just too much to handle or-or too emotionally unstable?”

“You’re not too much, Yn. You’re perfect the way you are,” he shook his head, taking my hands in his. I rip them away.

“Then gods dammit Lucien, what is it about her that you love so much more than me?” I screamed.

He is stunned and silent. His mouth opens and closes. No words are coming out. My chest feels like it’s going to cave in any second. 

“Yn… what are you talking about? Are you in love with me?” That flicker deep within my chest erupts into a thousand colors. I bite my lips to keep from crying out. “You are… aren’t you?”

I just shake my head. “I asked you a question first.”

“No, you can’t do this to me, that's not fair.”

“Who gives a fuck what is fair, Lucien? You have discarded me to the side like I was nothing. Did you forget that I was the one who sacrificed her life for you? What has Elain done for you? Nothing. She has done nothing but distract you from the important things in your life.”

“Like you?” Lucien said with an equal amount of venom in his voice. “You are so selfish.”

“You want me to admit it?” I snarled, my face inches from his. “Fine, I’m jealous. I am so jealous that you look at her like she hung the moon and at me like I mean nothing to you. There is no worse feeling in the world than seeing you happy with her, wishing and praying to every god that it was me.”

Lucien just stands still. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Yn.”

“That you love me too!” I shout, pacing around. “You’re telling me that Elain, someone who refuses to give you anything but a cold shoulder, is going to get all the love and affection I so treacherously built back into you after Jesminda? Did you ever stop and think for one moment that there could be you and I? Tell me how the fuck that makes sense.”

“Yes, you took care of me, and I will be eternally grateful for what you’ve done for me. I can’t ever repay you for giving life back to me. But I can’t… I can’t force myself to love you, Yn. I just can’t.”

My body felt like it was on fire. And not the kind of blaze I got when I looked into his eyes. It felt like the bond I had carefully hidden for years was finally unbraiding inside my soul. But when my eyes did meet his… nothing. No burst of excitement or sense of relief. 

I felt utterly nothing as I looked at the man that has been in every single moment of my life for the past sixty years. 

“Please say something,” Lucien begged. 

I couldn’t. Not with this world obliterating feeling inside my chest. I could only stare at the floor. 

“Yn… Yn please don’t let this ruin what we have.”

“It was ruined the moment you walked in that door.” My voice was meek. 

I could see Lucien shake his head, but his features became a blurry whirlwind behind my tears. “Yn I’m begging you I’ll-”

“Get out.”

“No,” Lucien's voice cracked. “No, I'm not going to leave.” He came and grabbed my shoulders, trying to make me look at him.

“Leave, right now, or I’ll get someone who will.” I'll call for Azriel. That will really make his skin blister. He instantly let go. “I want all traces of you gone by tomorrow night.”

“You can’t do this to me. To us.”

“It’s clear you’ve made your decision on where your priorities lie. I refuse to be second place to you anymore.”

“You have never been second place to me, Yn. Never. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t valued. But I can’t love you. I’m not in love with you.”

“And that is why you have to go. Take care Lucien, I hope she was worth it.”

I don’t bother to show him to the door. He knows where it is. I don’t offer him any other farewells. He doesn’t deserve my good luck. Instead I return to my pots and pans, staring painfully at them. I have no choice but to force him away.

It might just kill me, this ache in my body. It might just engulf me and swallow me into the earth, back to wherever I came from and give me another shot. Hopefully the next one I’ll actually get what I deserve. 

As I stare at the meal before me, it’s like I’m looking at a fresh batch of pure despair. It brings me nothing but painful reminders of years ago back in the Spring Court. Where it was just the two of us. There was no Night Court, there was no emissary duty, there was no Feyre or Nesta or Elain. 

Just me and my Lucien. 

And now there was just me. 

I have to do something. Distantly I hear the door click shut, it’s groan signaling Lucien’s vacancy. As hard as I can, I throw a wooden spoon towards it. It’s gratifying, but it doesn’t dull the ancient pain inside. I throw another. And another. And another. Until there are no more wooden spoons left, and they have been fated to splinters. 

I began to throw away the food I was preparing. A pot full of potato and cheese soup goes first. The lamb in the oven goes next. Then the sweet cherry pie next to it. I stash away the cups and silverware, nearly shattering them in the process.

This was supposed to be a celebration. Of all the hard work I have put into my restaurant over the last several years. It was opening night, the line was a mile long. Even Rhys and Feyre were there to congratulate me.

But not the one person I wanted most. 

This dinner. This fucking dinner. It was his favorite. Though I suppose it still is. Something I made him when he was upset. But instead of settling my stomach, it made it wretch.

I should send the recipe to Elain, but change one ingredient. Replace the chives with cilantro. He hates cilantro. I know so much about him, he knows so much about me. 

Why… just why couldn’t it have worked?

I’ll never get to see him smile again. Or cry. I’ll never get to hear his laugh. Or braid his hair when he’s sick. I’ll never get to feel his arms around me or hear the sound of him coming in the door. If I’m not gone when he gets all his stuff tomorrow, I just might ask him to stay. 

I deserve better. Someone who will look at me like I’ve hung the moon. Who will pursue me the way Lucien pursues Elain. I deserve unconditional. 

I wish I could still deserve him.

~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

[aprilthearcher]

burning red [roman roy x reader]

word count: 1.8k

[somewhat angst]

warnings: curse words, ooc roman ?, english is not my first language, not edited, rushed ending.

a/n: somewhat inspired by “red” and “false god” by taylor, idk i was just listening to these two songs on loop. i’m also supposed to be studying, but instead i wrote this, so enjoy! love me some greg sprinkles, couldn’t not include him. alsooo, this could read as being part of the same story as my previous roman blurb, but you won't have any problems if you haven't read it.

Loving Roman was complicated yet insanely easy, too tiresome at times and then incredibly invigorating. He had that effect on people, or maybe just her. Everyone else was probably too complicated for her to like. Not funny enough, not witty or smart enough, not loud enough. No one was Roman enough, not even across the whole damn world. 

Getting him off her mind had been more difficult than she’d expected, probably because (Y/N) only realised her feelings for him after she couldn’t stop thinking about him. He had taken over her whole body without knowing. It was Roman’s lips she imagined when kissing blonde, ginger, brunette guys at pubs; it were Roman’s eyes she thought of when her friends would ask her about her favourite colour; it was Roman’s face she conjured up in her head when they’d ask about her type of man. 

At first, she believed it to be some sort of sick joke the Universe was trying to play on her: discovering she had feelings for her long-time friend — one she’d known since they were in diapers, who would grab her by her ponytail whenever she was paying attention to his siblings instead of him (just him) —, barely two or three weeks in her first year of university, a university that was on a whole other continent, separated by an entire ocean. Still, (Y/N) knew she could fly back home in a couple of hours — “I’ll arrange a jet for you if you wanna come down”, her dad would always say over the phone —, but the idea of seeing him again with this new information in her head and heart (that couldn’t help but jump at the mention of him) terrified her.

Her mind would make her remember him and his antics in the worst possible times: while dancing with some random guy at a club, his hands on her hips, the cheap cologne contrasting the rich scented one Roman couldn’t get enough of. On a first date, set up by her friends who believed she had to let go of this “prude” behaviour and just let someone take her to their bed. When joking with the guys that approached her and her friends at the bar, knowing exactly what Roman would think of them, the cruel comments he’d throw, the silly faces. The soft eyes when they were both too drunk to even speak a coherent sentence, although most times nothing was coherent with Roman. She had tried looking for those same bright eyes; once more, she ended up disappointed. None of them were Roman. None of them ever will be, no matter how much (Y/N) tried to shape them into a replica of him. All of Roman was unique. 

Hence, the dreadful turmoil inside her stomach once Shiv, with some tint of malice in her eyes directed at Roman, introduced her to Tabitha. “Roman’s companion”, she’d said. The blonde, curly haired woman greeted (Y/N) with an eager smile on her face. She said her name at the same time both of them shook hands. A voice inside her head told her this was all wrong. How long? Where did it happen? Why? Why? Why now that she was back?

“Oh, you don’t need to tell me your name,” Tabitha mentioned playfully, a short roll of her eyes a second later. “You’re all Roman’s been talking about lately”.

“Only lately?” Shiv laughed, taking a sip from her glass she focused her eyes on Roman , then (Y/N). “Roman’s always talking about (Y/N). I mean, he was practically her lap dog when they were children.”

“Oh, fuck off Siobhan,” Roman bark back.

“Well, he only mentioned you as of now.” The knot in her stomach tightened. The worst part was she could see Tabitha hadn’t said it out of spite, nor jealousy, but as a fleeting comment to add something more to the conversation.

He hadn’t mentioned her to Tabitha? Not even once? She had tried everything to block him out of her head, to keep him out of her dreams and fantasies; to catch herself every time she was going to bring up him in a conversation again, and he didn’t say her name until he found out (Y/N) was coming back to New York? What kind of sick fuck was he? What kind of sick fuck was she, devoting probably her whole life to Roman fucking Roy?

“Oh,” (Y/N) managed to croak out before her father appeared beside her and whispered in her ear that she should spend some time chatting with the other guests.

                                                       * * *

Cousin Greg was great company, quite weird before you took in the awkwardness that seemed to surround him and make him stick out like a sore thumb in the midst of all these old, rich people, but great nonetheless. He had asked her about her years in London, what she studied and what she did for fun, her friends and hobbies. (Y/N) found herself enjoying the night, sitting on a couch by his side, meanwhile both of their cheeks were getting rosier and rosier with every new cup of alcohol brought to them. Greg was in the middle of telling her about how he had screwed up the first day at his job on one of the parks owned by Waystar, cracking up from time to time from how she tried to hide her laugh in order to keep the attention away from them, when two hands settled on his shoulders, hard and making a noise that was apparent that the gesture was meant to at least hurt him a little. Roman was behind him with a clench jaw and big, maniac eyes. 

“Greeeg, I think Tom was looking for you, man”.

“Oh, really?” Greg turned his upper body in Roman’s direction, which from the side looked somewhat weird because of his tall, lanky form. “Because, because I just saw him and he didn’t say anything”.

“Yes, oh really, man. And he said if you didn’t go talk to him right now, he would fire your sorry ass”.

Greg was on his feet quicker than she'd expected after seeing him drown glass after glass with her. He towered over her for a moment, saying a quick “see you later” before going in search of Tom. 

“You’re mean, Roman”.

“Yeah, well, tell me something I don’t fucking know”. 

They fell silent for a second. Around them, people were still in mindless conversation, setting down empty cups on the waiter’s tray while picking up new ones from another one. Alcohol seemed to be the only way to survive a family gathering at the Roy’s, even a harmless one. 

“You wanna get out of here?” Roman asked. She turned her head to the right to face him, he was already looking at her. His eyes no longer had the maniac fog blurring them, there was now a tranquil pool of honey.

                                                    ***

“My dad is probably gonna be mad if he finds out I ditched the party”.

“Please, (Y/N), since when did you become such a goody two shoes?” Roman leaned against the railing of the terrace, following her with his eyes while she approached him and finally set her elbows on top of the banister. From this position, he looked taller. “Don’t tell me you were like this in London. I mean, with no one to hover over you, you sure had a looot to do, didn’t you?”

“I went to London to study, remember? Not to go out and get drunk every night.”

“Well, I’m sure if you had been with me, you could’ve done both.”

“Yeah, probably, but you weren’t with me.”

“Whose fault is that, huh?” He crossed his arms over his chest. Her eyebrows raised.

“Are you saying it was my fault? We haven’t seen each other for how long and it was all my fault?”

“Why are you acting like it isn’t? It literally is, (Y/N), you left m.. you left and, and you never came back.” He had walked a few steps away from her. 

“It’s not like you couldn’t have visited, Roman. Just ask daddy for one of his jets, it’s literally that easy.”

“Yes, but - but you left, (Y/N). You left, and it’s not like you chose some university a state away, you chose one a whole continent away! That’s got to mean something!”

“As if Roman fucking Roy couldn’t get one goddamn plane and fly over to London!” She had abandoned her previous position, now fully facing Roman, who was still a couple of feet away, getting closer to the door. He was trying to run, just like it he always did whenever they fought.

“I didn’t - I didn’t want you to get annoyed by me! To realise what a true moron I was. Then you barely talked to me after you arrived at your fancy university and - and started your very difficult subjects.”

(Y/N) closed her eyes in confusion for a moment. Though it was easier to throw everything at him, (Y/N) knew that she was also responsible for their lack of communication over these last years. 

Only the bustling, almost never-ending nightlife of New York could be heard. Her chest hurted, her eyes would fill with tears at any point now. She was tired and drunk, and just fucking missed Roman too much for them to be fighting the first night she was back in the city.

“Now you are not saying anything?” Roman broke the silence. He was closer to the door, she noticed. “You know what? Fuck you, (Y/N). Fuck you for making feel all this – all this fucking, fucking shit!”

“What fucking shit?” She asked quietly, desperate for an answer, the answer.

“I - I don’t know what fucking shit, just shit, okay?”

“Say it.”

Roman didn’t respond, instead he turned her back on her, walking towards the door. Before he could reach the handle, she screamed at him.

“Fucking say it, Roman.”

“I’ve just told you, I don’t know. It’s just shit, okay? All of it,” he screamed back, opening up his arms, exaggerating his point. “I - I run out of breath and then my chest is all funny, and and I hate seeing you laughing with fucking Greg of all people. It’s shit, fucking shit!”

Drawing closer to him, she tested his limits. He was breathing hard from all the screaming and moving around the terrace to put distance between them, but he didn’t stop when (Y/N) got so close their bodies were almost touching. It was her with whom physical closeness wasn’t a problem, he always told himself it was because of how close they were pretty much their whole lives.

They only looked at each other for a few moments, the waves of conflict had calmed down fast and efficiently enough that for anyone else it would seem like nothing had happened between them. 

Roman wished — deep, deep down — that they could stay like this forever, without having to go back and confront his family, especially his father; that they could make this terrace, above Logan’s place ironically enough, a little haven, only for them; that they would never be found.

[colorsunimaginable]

the spare // chapter sixty-seven // death eater ! tom hiddleston oc x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

story summary: 

While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord's triumph, she's being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance's greatest weapons?

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

words for this chapter: 8k warnings for this chapter: drinking, a wee bit of p in v

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

my lovely beta reader 💕 banner credit @cafekitsune

Chapter Sixty-Seven:

It’s the day after Christmas and I spend it overthinking, worried about this ‘gathering’ at Cliveden. To distract myself, I fiddle around with the new camera Thomus bought me. 

And I might have taken a few… dozen pictures of him. 

Okay, that might be an exaggeration, but regardless I now have images of him sitting at the kitchen table with a book, typing away at his desk on the typewriter, and even one I convinced him to take with me in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. 

“I think I’m… nervous,” I say as we’re getting ready to leave.

Thomus finishes adjusting the collar of his cloak around the collar of his sweater and gives me a curious look. “You likely have more in common with them than I do.”

I shift on my feet, clutching the Tupperware full of cookies tighter. “I highly doubt that. Ever since you told me about this party, all I can think about is the time you spanked me in front of them.” A satisfied smile spreads across his face as he chuckles and pulls a forest green knit scarf from beneath his cloak. “Are we all just supposed to pretend like that never happened?” He steps closer and loops the scarf around my neck, eyes focused on the task. “Are you even listening?”

“Of course.” His eyes snap up to mine as he flips one end of the scarf over my shoulder and the other down my front. “You have nothing to worry about.”

I release a strained groan and fidget with my Ilvermorny Christmas sweater, pulling the hem further down around my hips. “Let’s just go.”

We Apparate straight there and I’m gonna be honest, I have no idea what to expect. The few parties Jacob Astor has hosted that I’ve witnessed have varied wildly. From a super serious Death Eater meeting about human trafficking to dancing with Thomus while high on a lust potion - you never really know. Not to mention, the usual crowd has been an unfortunate audience to my most embarrassing moments in the last six months. 

I shudder out of my thoughts while we trek to the large hosting room. The smell hits me first, cinnamon and oranges, and then I register the song playing gently from the corner of the room, Bing Crosby’s White Christmas . An Elf snaps away our outerwear as we approach the open doors.

The room is absolutely decked out . Floating candles light the room, hovering just under the high ceiling. Fake snow drifts down from a dim grey sky, fresh holly on every sconce. In the center of the room against the windows is a massive tree, covered in tinsel and twinkling lights. The grand fireplace is crackling with a delicious smelling fire. We walk closer to the tree, where people are gathered around on couches and chairs, and I can make out what lights the top of the tree... A bright, glowing Deathly Hallows mark. 

Well, that’s fucking weird.

I don’t have time to think on it further before Jacob Astor is standing before us. He looks as dashing as ever and not so surprised that I’m not currently blind. He smiles at both Thomus and me, and I wish I could tell if he’s being sincere.

“Glad you guys could make it,” Jake says cheerfully as he shakes Thomus’ hand, but he’s looking at me. 

Thomus smiles in return, looking more relaxed than he usually does when we’re out. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

As they exchange a few more pleasantries, my eyes wander beyond Jake, trying to see if there’s any familiar faces. I clock Kyle sitting near Will when Jake says something that recaptures my attention. “I see you had your very own Christmas miracle.” 

Thomus’ arm slides around my waist. “Yes, I had some very good luck.”

I don’t miss the double meaning to his words. I wanna remark about how his good luck was really my hard work, but I bite my tongue and force a shy smile as Jake turns to shake my hand as well.

Jake gestures to a food and drinks table set up along a wall. “Help yourselves. I think Will’s trying to start up some drinking games here in a minute.”

I start walking toward the table before Thomus, mostly because I’m eager to exchange this box of cookies for something with alcohol in it. Towards the desert section, I glance back over my shoulder to make sure no one but Thomus is watching me slide trays aside, making enough room for my offering. 

Finally with free hands, I scooch next to Thomus standing by the drinks. 

“Can I pour you anything?” he asks me. 

My eyes scan the bottles, then point to the one I want. “Yeah, can I get orange juice with Malibu?”

He reaches for the white bottle I pointed to and pours a double into the iced glass he’s holding. “Coconut rum?” he questions as he’s reaching for the pitcher of orange liquid. 

“It’s my go-to,” I say as I grab a coffee straw, taking the glass and stirring it once it’s full. I take a sip and it’s just right. He’s busy pouring his own glass of whiskey, but I offer him the straw anyway. “Wanna try?”

I briefly pull his eyes away from pouring as he leans down to wrap his lips around the straw. There’s just something about seeing his jaw flex like that that has me pinching myself. 

“Well, it’s certainly a combination of flavors,” he says after swallowing. 

I snort and forget what I’m about to say when I feel an arm brush my other shoulder. When I see who it is, I relax. “Oh, hi.”

Will’s eyes immediately find the box that doesn’t match the rest of the dishes and nabs one of the bright red cookies. “Oh, hi,” he teases after he takes a bite. His face is sans beard and rocking a stache now. “You guys ready to get trashed?”

“What’re we playing?” I ask, taking a few big pulls of my drink.

“Anything,” Will answers immediately. He pulls out his wand and summons a tray pre-loaded with tiny cauldrons just big enough for shots. A bottle of firewhiskey floats from the collection before us and starts filling the cauldrons. “Got nothin’ but a good time on the agenda.”

“Can we play Thunderstruck?” I ask. 

Will beams. “Fuck yeah we can play Thunderstruck.”

As Thomus and I follow Will back to where everyone else is gathered, Thomus leans in. “Should I know what that is?”

I can’t help but smile. “Oh, you’ll find out.”

There’s an empty loveseat Thomus pulls me onto. He tucks his arm around my waist again as he settles back, practically tucking me into his side. 

As Will passes out the shot cauldrons, I can finally sneak a peek at who’s actually here. Kyle and Will - and obviously Jake. That Roosevelt guy is here, too, but I forget his first name. There’s a pretty blond woman talking to Jake that I don’t recognize and… oh, that’s it. Small group, I see. Which I will admit I’m glad for. 

I take the first shot that Will offers me and I down it immediately before putting it back and grabbing another one. I haven’t really eaten much today, so the alcohol hits my stomach like a warm blast.

“Alright, I wanna make a toast,” Jake announces, standing with his shot held out towards the blond next to him. “Firstly, to my sister, Diana, for the last minute decorating.”

“Well, you obviously weren’t going to do it,” Diana says with a laugh. 

“Exactly,” he says. “And then to all of you - for making this past year as successful as it has been.”

For one blissful moment I had allowed myself to forget why I was here, why they’ve had such a successful year. It takes .2 seconds for the anxious pit in my chest to grow twice its size. I’m the first one to finish my shot and then sip heavily on my cocktail to wash the taste down.

“Alright, the first game we’re playing is Thunderstruck, so everyone top off their drinks,” Will says, heading over to where the Christmas music’s playing from. 

Since mine is already more than halfway gone, I shoot to my feet to fill it back up. I’m not the first one to the drinks table because Kyle is there ladeling in some kind of fizzing purple punch. 

“Want one?” Kyle asks as I glance over my shoulder at Thomus, who briefly looked at me before turning to greet Diana.

“Yes, please,” I reply. “Two actually.”

“This your doing or his?” he asks, his voice low. By this he doesn’t even have to clarify - I just know.

I look up at him and shrug with one shoulder. “Mine.”

“Hmph,” he grunts unhappily. He finishes filling the first glass and then starts the second.

“What, don’t believe me?” I ask, taking a sip of the punch. Elderberry and something that tastes like Aloe juice. 

“I believe you,” he says quickly. “Now it’s just my turn to hold up my end of the bargain.”

I sigh heavily. “You haven’t figured out how to get me away from Thomus yet, have you?”

“Well, I have a few ideas, but I don’t think you’re going to like them.”

“Such as?”

Before he can answer, we get called back to the group to start the song. I’m supposed to hide the fact that I have my magic, so with both hands I carefully cradle my half drink plus the two new ones back to the loveseat. Thomus is still chatting with Diana, a conversation I’ve completely tuned out, so I just slide our drinks onto the coffee table in front of us. 

“Melisa, can you explain the rules?” Will asks. 

I’m a bit taken aback by the use of my whole first name - especially being pronounced correctly - instead of my last. Everyone’s eyes are on me now, so I take a deep breath before spilling the details. “Okay so, we go in a circle and every time the song says ‘thunder’, one person drinks until they say ‘thunder’ again, and then the next person starts and so on and so forth, does that make sense?”

“I’ll start!” Will says before pressing play and jogging over. He comes to sit on the armrest of our loveseat.

The first few thunders come in quick succession, so once Will goes, I go, and then Thomus. The thunders go around the circle a few times before the first long stretch lands on Thomus, who has to finish his whiskey, and with some encouragement, grabs the punch I push towards him. With the circle being small, by the time the song’s over, everyone has finished their drinks.

“Now that we’ve all settled in,” Will jokes, “the next game we’re playing is called Captain.” He sets the music back to Christmas music and turns the volume down to a background level. “Usually, it’s played with a pirate's hat or a sailors hat, but since it’s Christmas - “ he waves his wand and a Santa hat appears on Diana’s head, much to her delight “ - this is what we’ve got. Does everyone know how to play?”

I shake my head, noticing the alcohol has started to loosen my limbs. I’d finished my cocktail during the game and have started on the punch - which I swear keeps refilling itself.

Diana rubs her hands together conspiratorially and leans forward over Thomus to explain. “Whoever has the hat gets to pick someone to do a dare. If they do the dare, then we all take a shot and they get the hat, but if they don’t then they’re out of the game. Last person in the game wins.”

I smile at her. “Please don’t pick me first.”

She laughs. “Don’t worry, I got my eyes on someone else.” She jerks her chin towards Jake, who immediately dons this ‘oh shit’ face. She leans back, crossing her arms with a shit eating grin.

“Why’s it called Captain?” I ask. “Just because of the hat?”

“Whenever someone gets the hat, we’re supposed to say ‘Aye, Aye Captain’,” Thomus explains for me, his face leaning in close. 

I immediately giggle. “Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?”

He runs his hand down my thigh and tilts his head in confusion. “What?”

I shift in my seat, getting closer to him so our thighs touch. “Nevermind.”

“Aye, aye Captain!” Roosevelt and Will shout. 

Diana taps her chin like she’s still considering. “Hmm, dear brother, what shall I make you do?” Then she grins. “I dare you to take your socks off with your teeth and wear them tucked into your collar for the rest of the game.”

My head quickly swivels to where Jake is sitting to get his reaction and he does not disappoint. His face scrunches up in disgust as he slouches in his seat, already toeing off his nice shoes. 

“Hopefully those aren’t the ones you were wearing yesterday,” Will laughs. “Or are they?”

“Shut your trap, Hoffman,” Jake grumbles. 

We all wait with baited breath as he grabs his calf to pull his foot closer to his face. He quickly traps the sock between his bared teeth and pulls. It slips off and he does the same to the other one before tucking them both into his collar. 

He grins triumphantly and quickly summons house slippers for his bare feet. “Ha!” he says. “Drink up, assholes.”

We all take our drinks as the Santa hat gets transferred to Jake. 

“Aye, Aye Captain!” we all shout. 

His eyes jump from person to person, and he’s quick to settle on Kyle, who clearly isn’t paying attention. 

Kyle’s sole focus is on Thomus, blatantly staring at him with something akin to determination and consideration. 

The look quickly disperses as my stare gives Jake’s intention away and Kyle’s expression neutralizes. 

“Kyle,” Jake says. “I dare you to serenade the person to your right.”

Kyle sighs dramatically, rubbing his hand down his face. “I’m not nearly drunk enough for this.”

Nevertheless, he swiftly gets down on his knees in front of Diana, a hand clutched over his heart. As he’s clearly about to break out in song, I briefly wonder if he’ll have a decent singing voice, and I find out soon enough as he belts out the easily recognizable first notes to All I Want for Christmas is You . His voice is off-pitch and scratchy, and I genuinely can’t tell if he’s being bad on purpose or not. Everyone starts laughing and I can’t help but join in. 

When he gets to the end of the first verse, he takes Diana’s hand and gives the back of it an exaggerated kiss. We give him a round of applause as he takes his seat. Jake gives Kyle the hat while we take our drink for the round.

It doesn’t surprise me that Kyle chooses Thomus, I only worry what he’ll make him do. He’s looking around, trying to come up with an idea until his eyes land on Thomus’ drink in his hand. 

“Malfoy, I triple doxy dare you to… finish yours and Alder’s drinks in one go.”

Thomus scoffs. “And here I thought you were going to pick something difficult.” He quickly finishes the rest of his punch in a few gulps before trading glasses with me. “Tada,” he proudly announces after easily downing the rest of mine, then he stands holding our four empty glasses by the rim in one hand. “Drink up.”

As Thomus goes across the room to refill our punch, Kyle leans forward, staring at me intently. 

“We need to get him drunk,” he hisses low. 

I blink at him in surprise, then jump my gaze first to Thomus’ back and then to the rest of the group. No one seems as surprised as I am. Even Roosevelt, who I overheard someone refer to him as Eric, doesn’t bat an eye. Is everyone in on this plot?

“That’s your plan?” Will asks incredulously.

“It’s the start of one,” Kyle answers. “Get him so drunk he passes out and she can just… leave.”

“Just leave ?” I ask. I look to the windows, searching for that shimmer from the magical barrier from before. “What about -”

“The tattoo doesn’t work here,” Jake quickly adds. “And there aren't any additional wards to trap you here.”

Everyone is looking at me, waiting for my response. My heart has leapt to my throat to block any logistical questions I have before Thomus swoops back into his seat.

“What’s that look for?” Thomus asks me. I quickly snatch the glass he hands me to swallow my thrumming heart back into my chest. 

Diana jumps in for my rescue. “I was just telling her about my ex.”

“Oh Merlin,” Thomus groans, slumping back against the loveseat. “It’s not a story about me, is it?”

What? Jesus fuck, these people keep smacking bludgers at me one after another. 

I try not to react outwardly to the news that Diana and Thomus used to date, even if this news is just as jarring as the imminent plan for my escape from him. I focus on her, really taking in what she looks like. Extremely tall and willowy with big round hazel eyes and a cupid’s bow mouth. Jealousy flares up inside because I can’t help but compare us. Her thighs combined are the size of just one of mine. 

She flips her long dirty blond hair over her shoulder and crosses her legs, perching an elbow on the armrest of her chair. “No, but I ought to, shouldn’t I?”

“Definitely not,” Thomus says, quickly sitting forward with a hand outstretched towards Kyle. “Pass me the hat.” He settles the white faux fur rim of the Santa hat over his dark curls. 

“Aye aye, Captain!” they all shout. I’m too anxious and fixate my eyes on my drink, still fizzing on the coffee table in front of me. My mind is racing with all that could potentially happen. Where would I go? How long could I hide? Could I be summoned back because of the tattoo? If the idea is to get me close to Voldemort, wouldn’t fleeing just put a target on my back? I wonder if I’d be able to get a message to Hermione about -

Thomus’ hand brushes down my arm. “Melisa?”

My eyes snap to his, focused on me, and I swallow around nothing. “Yeah? Sorry.”

He gives me a sly smile. “It’s your turn.”

“Alright,” I sigh, making a face. “Lay it on me.”

He takes a deep breath and I expect it to be something genuinely challenging, but in all honesty it’s a bit underwhelming. “I dare you to sing the alphabet… backwards.”

I snort. “Jokes on you because I was taught that in the second grade.” 

“Oh, I’m sure,” he grins. “Let’s hear it, then.”

Looking at him, I feel less nervous about making a fool of myself in front of everyone else. So I start to sing, keeping my eyes on him or on his person, because after a few moments the prolonged eye contact makes my face heat. 

Even after I’m finished with the letters, I keep going with the end of the song. “ Now we know our ZYXs’, next time we will go to Texas. ”

Will laughs. “Why the fuck are we going to Texas?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Ask Mr. Morley.”

“Who the fuck is that?”

“My elementary school music teacher,” I reply smoothly. “Now drink the fuck up.”

Jake is the first to finish his drink, so he stands to get a refill. “We should play something else. All our dares suck, no ones gotten out yet.”

“I’ve got a good one,” I say quickly. I’d taken a drink, too, because why not? Who wants to make hard decisions sober?

I pluck the Santa hat off Thomus’ head and slip it over mine. “You ready, Will?”

Will squares his shoulders, facing me dead on, expression serious. “Born ready.”

“I dare you to recite a poem - any poem, but you -” I start to blow a raspberry with my tongue in between every word “- have to talk like this.”

Will snickers. “You got that from Spongebob.”

“So what if I did? You still gotta do it,” I smile. “And I don’t think I heard my ‘aye aye, Captain’.”

Jake and Kyle are the only ones who don’t say it. Kyle is lost in his thoughts if his dead eye stare at his drink is evidence enough, and Jake is too far away at the food and drinks table to care.

It’s hard to keep the grin off my face as Will complies with my dare. “ Mosquito lands on my cheek. I try to slap her, but I just slap me. ” He finishes by standing with a bow. 

“That’s it?” Diana protests. “It was so short.”

“It’s a haiku,” Thomus explains. “A type of Japanese poem.”

“Oh, yeah that’s right,” she says. “Do you still work for the Daily Prophet? Or has that taken a backseat for… other things?” 

“A bit of both, really,” he sighs. “The Dark Lord hasn’t required much of me lately, so I’ve been helping Barnabas Cuffe with editing. In addition to helping my sister-in-law with the New Year’s Eve Gala she’s hosting.”

“Speaking of,” Jake says, rejoining the group, “why weren’t we invited?” It’s obvious he’s not really offended, just genuinely curious. 

Thomus sighs and speaks with a hint of resentment. “Only the Sacred Twenty-Eight and whoever’s crawled up through the Dark Lord’s ranks, I’m afraid. Not even the Lots are allowed to be present.”

“Well, if you’re free, Melisa,” Diana says, speaking to me. “You’re welcome to come to a New Years Eve party here. It would just be us and a few of my girlfriends from Oxford.”

I’m genuinely shocked and flattered that this goddess is inviting me to a party, but I know that this has to be a backup plan for escape if tonight doesn’t go as Kyle wants it. I don’t even get a chance to respond because Thomus puts a possessive hand on my leg, wedging his long fingers into the tight space between my thighs. 

“Unfortunately, that’s not possible,” Thomus says, speaking for me with a tone of finality, and doesn’t even bother to explain why.

She peers at us curiously for a moment before realization dawns. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot.”

The tray with all our mini shot cauldrons fill back up as Thomus just gives a silent nod of acknowledgement. 

We play another couple rounds of Captain before all the drinks finally start to do their job and loosen everyone up. I know I’m starting to feel it, especially when I stand to go find a bathroom. 

Thomus insists on accompanying me, especially when I steer towards the bathroom down by the kitchens. He takes me back out to the lobby, showing me where the bathrooms are there. Secretly, I’m glad, because I don’t think I’d be able to make it up and down all those stairs without tripping at least once. I don’t think Thomus would either, based on how many times he bumps into me. 

He even follows me into the women’s bathroom, insisting that it doesn’t matter since we’re the only ones in there. 

“I didn’t realize how clingy you were,” I tease, saddling my way into one of the stalls to do my business.

He slides into the one next to me. “Oh, poppycock. I’m just being a gentleman and making sure you don’t fall in.”

My laugh is sharp and loud in the echoey bathroom. “That actually happened to me when I was in preschool. The seat wasn’t down so my butt got all wet and I just sat there waiting to be rescued by a teacher.”

I hear his warm chuckle. “How old were you?”

“Four,” I say as I finish and leave the stall to wash my hands. He joins me a moment later, still chuckling to himself. “What?”

He shakes his head absently. “Nothing, you’re just… adorable.”

I snort as I reach for a paper towel. “Right.”

He dries his hands too and quickly reaches for me as I try to pass him to the door. He leans back against the counter, a hand on my hip and one on my cheek, pulling me towards him. I don’t resist and lean into him, our lips quickly meeting. My arms snake around his waist, wanting a hug at the same time, because it strikes me that if I leave tonight… this could be it. 

I still have a million doubts and questions that need answered, but right now… right now he wants me and I need to bask in it for as long as I can, while I still have the chance.

I deepen the kiss and I boldly slip one of my hands to the front of his jeans. He’s already semi-hard, but at my touch, he groans and bites my lip. 

“You want to do this here?” he asks, his voice husky.

I nod, my other hand coming around to undo his pants and slip my hand inside. “I want you so bad.”

He drags kisses along my jaw and down my neck. “It’ll have to be quick.”

“And hard,” I breathe, practically panting with want already.

Determination in his movements now, he flips us around until my fupa is pressed against the sink counter and he’s grinding against my ass. He moves my hair away from my neck, sensually kissing the soft spot below my ear. Over my sweater his hands slowly grope down from my chest, then my stomach and the fleshy “handles”, as he’s called them before, where my fupa meets my hips. 

I push my ass back against him. “I thought you said we had to be quick.”

He bites my neck, wringing a moan from me. “Patience,” he warns. 

One hand lets go of my handle and slips underneath to firmly cup the junction between my legs. I sigh heavily and whine, rocking my hips, increasing the pressure on my clit. 

“Fuck,” he groans out. Finally he hooks his fingers into my waistband and yanks my pants and undies down to my knees. I push my ass out towards him when he takes a step back to pull his cock out. He moans when his tip pushes through my lips, feeling how wet I am. Then he doesn’t waste a second longer and slides home. 

I cry out, biting my lip in an attempt to keep it muffled. I plant my hands on the smooth cold counter and immediately start rocking back and forth, desperately impatient. With a hand on the center of my back, he pushes me forward while snapping his hips to my ass, seamlessly sliding into the pace I’d set. Quick staccato slapping echoes around the room as he thrusts hard and deep. My eyes roll back into my head, hardly aware of the noises I’m making because I’m too busy losing my mind to the pleasure.

He slows all too soon, pulling me back up to attach his mouth to my neck again. My back bends to accommodate him, and while still keeping him buried to the hilt, my chest juts out. He takes advantage of the position and pushes my sweater up until his fingers find the band of my bra and he pushes that up too. My heavy breasts fall into his hands and he groans, pinching my nipples, and fucking into me with slow, but hard thrusts. 

My eyes flutter open briefly, a sudden urge to see. He’s fucked me in front of a mirror before, but he hasn’t done it since I’ve gotten my sight back. Admittedly, I have a bit of an out of body experience, looking at what’s happening instead of feeling it. I hate what I look like, of course. Sometimes in my head I look different than I really do and seeing myself in the mirror can be pretty jarring. 

But then I look at Thomus’ face. He’s so… wrapped up in me, hands full, mind clearly numb with ecstasy. 

I close my eyes again, grimacing, swallowing down the sudden onslaught of longing and loss. It’s probably all the alcohol, but tears fill my vision because I just can’t bear losing this. I quickly blink them away, avoiding looking in the mirror again. 

I don’t want to ruin the moment, so I start pushing back against him again, urging him to pick up the pace. 

He obliges me for a few moments until he slows to a stop. He’s still panting and holding me against him before he sighs heavily.

“Darling, you feel amazing, but I don’t think I can finish,” he murmurs hesitantly, sounding regretful. 

I nod, sniffling. “It’s okay, we can stop.”

He pulls out and I swiftly right myself, pants back over my hips, bra holding what it should, sweater in the right place. It’s only then that I look in the mirror again. Luckily he didn’t bite me too hard, so there’s no hickey to cover up. I just wet my fingers and run them through my hair before flipping it back over. Leaning close to the mirror, I check that my makeup is still good.

“Were you crying?” he asks point blank, staring at me in the mirror. 

“No,” I lie, but I feel a river about to gush out of my nose, so I quickly snag a paper towel and blow into it. “I just had to sneeze real bad and didn’t wanna ruin the moment.”

Fully dressed again, he slides a hand down my butt, gripping it appreciatively. “I’d be happy to help you finish,” he suggests.

I shake my head. “No, it’s okay,” I say, forcing a reassuring smile on my face. I rock up onto the balls of my feet to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. “Still scratched that itch and felt amazing.”

He takes my hand, pulling me to the door. “Then let’s get back. Hopefully they won’t give us too much grief for taking so long.” He smirks down at me and winks. Actually winks . It's such a quick thing, but it makes my heart contract in my chest with the need to be wrapped up in him again. 

God I’m so fucked.

~*~

As predicted, when we return Will and Jake are quick to wolf whistle. They’re over by the music and Thomus joins them while I sink into his seat next to Diana. My face has got to be as red as my sweater, but Diana doesn’t comment on it. She just hands me a full shot cauldron with an understanding look. Grateful, I take the shot. Getting dicked down sobered me a bit more than I wanted.

Eric is busy scribbling away in a little notebook and next to him is Kyle and his stupid judgmental face.

I ignore him and focus on Diana. “So what did you study at Oxford?”

“I studied Art History,” she says, “but I didn’t get, like, a degree or anything. I just wanted to know a little more about the art I was seeing in the museums here.”

“That’s one thing I haven’t done since I’ve gotten to England,” I say. “I used to love going to museums.”

She tilts her head, looking curious. “Were you meant to stay long?”

I shrug. “I had an internship at the Daily Prophet, which I’d been hoping would lead to a full time position at some point.”

“Oh, so you worked with Thomus then?” she asks. “You knew him… before.”

“No, actually,” I say, reaching over for my punch. “I… He wasn’t around all that much while I was there.” 

“What gives with the Deathly Hallows mark on the tree?” Kyle asks out of the blue. “You know it’s just a story, right?”

Diana, who’s clearly much more sober than Kyle is right now, looks at him without mirth. “It’s very real.”

I nod along, knowing all too well the truth behind the Deathly Hallows.

“Grindelwald murdered a lot of our family with the Elder Wand,” Diana continues. “Not to mention, I’ve seen invisibility cloaks with my own eyes.” She grimaces. “And yes, I know what I just said is an oxymoron.”

With another pull of my drink, I feel gutsy enough to ask something that’s been on my mind for a while. I lean closer to her and lower my voice. “So… has your brother… always been… “ I sigh. I feel silly saying ‘on our side’, but how else can I put it? “I don't know, I guess I'm asking about allegiances.”

Kyle gives me an ‘are you serious’ look. “Of course he’s been in on it,” he says, as if it should’ve been obvious. 

“The entire time?” I ask skeptically, distinctly remembering how not nice he was when we met the night Montague got beat the fuck up by Thomus.

“He’s playing the long game,” Diana explains. “Jake’s very good at wasting The Great Order’s time.” 

Her eyes are on the three men in the corner and I turn to look just as the three of them take a shot. “Does Thomus know?” I ask, my voice low.

“Thomus is under the impression that Jake just has reservations about certain things,” she says. 

“Participating without actually participating,” I surmise.

She nods. “Exactly.” Her gaze is drawn to Eric, and she stares at him for a moment before she asks, “What happened to your hand, Eric?”

Eric looks up, seeming to have forgotten where he was. He looks around and finds the three of us looking at him. Then the question seems to sink in and he looks down at his hand. Bandages wrap around his palm and twist up his two middle fingers.

“Oh, I uh, had a bit of an accident a few days ago,” he says. “Working on the…“ He eyes me for a second before looking back at Diana. “On the thing.”

“You don’t have to speak in code,” Kyle says to him. “She can handle a few more secrets.”

I nod in agreement, though really it has nothing to do with how good I am at keeping secrets. I’m just too nosey for my own good.

“Right, sure, yeah,” Eric says. He looks down at his notebook. “I’m having a bit of a timing issue. I think I’ve got the explosive strong enough, but it seems the stronger it gets, the less time I have before it goes off.”

I quickly glance back at Thomus, catching him downing another shot, before turning back and whispering, “You’re building a bomb?”

He nods. “Something powerful enough to break through Anti-Apparition wards.”

My eyes widen. “That’s a thing?”

The corners of his mouth turn up in an amused grin. “I’m definitely trying to make it one.”

“Do you have the recipe?” I ask, a bit eager. “I’ve had a similar issue with magical film developer. I might be able to help.”

“Yeah, here.” He flips through a couple pages until he lands on a spread that’s definitely got more use than the rest, then passes it to me.

As I scan the page, I see that a few of the core ingredients are the same, just how they’re incorporated is slightly different. The measurements are also scaled down for testing purposes.

“If this were to scale, how much willow root would you add?” I ask. 

“The entire root, but I chop it up.”

“If you grind it down into a powder and then weigh it, it’s easier to be more precise with the amount you add,” I explain, not looking up from the page. “And you’re not adding nearly enough bursting mushroom powder.”

When I look up, Eric’s head is tilted, his eyes unfocused, his mind clearly running away from him with this new information. “Interesting,” he says. 

“Magical film developing potion always implodes on itself. It’s just a fact. But I’ve made it so much that I can time it down to the second it’ll implode,” I explain. “Would you… want me to write the recipe down for you? Then you can compare.”

He blinks back into focus, nodding eagerly. “Yes, please do. Here.” He passes me his pen and I quickly jot down my recipe on the next available page in his book.

By the time I’m done, the music gets turned up, and the three in the corner start making their way over to us. I toss down the rest of my drink before reaching for Thomus’, but Kyle stops me. 

“Don’t,” he warns.

I quickly put two and two together. “What did you put in here?” I demand with a hushed voice.

“Relax,” he says, standing. “It’s just something to speed things up.”

Completely oblivious, Thomus plops right down next to me, swinging his arm around my shoulders. 

“Is that mine?” he asks, not bothering to wait for my response before he grabs his drink and chugs it. He audibly plonks the glass onto the coffee table and turns to me, grinning mischievously from ear to ear, looking like he has a dirty secret he can’t wait to share with me. I return his smile with a hesitant one of my own. 

He leans close to speak in my ear, though he’s not exactly quiet. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

My face immediately flushes because everyone heard that. I look around in panic to find everyone staring at us, too. Their expressions aren’t of disgust, though, just surprise.

“Oh my god,” I say, covering my face with my hands. I shoot to my feet. “I need a drink.”

As I speed away, I hear Thomus ask, “What did I say?”

I glance over my shoulder to see Diana covering her mouth in a fit of giggles and Jake shakes his head. “Dude.”

I’m munching on one of my red cookies when Thomus comes up behind me, his hand drifting down my back to settle on my waist. “What’s the matter?” he asks.

“Nothing. You just -” I glance up at him, noting his dilated pupils and flushed cheeks. “I guess I’ve just never seen you so relaxed. Especially around other people. And we’re acting like we’re…” My heart’s thundering in my chest as I force the last few words out. “Like we’re a couple.”

He turns to face me and leans a hip on the table. “You’re right, it is a bit out of our usual routine,” he admits, his expression serious. “I apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

I sigh and shrug a shoulder. “No more than you usually do.” I put my hand over his where it rests on the table, pushing the tips of my fingers against his knuckles. “And I don’t hate… this, how it feels, you know? It’s just hard to pair it with everything else,” I say. “If that makes sense.”

He nods slowly, looking down at our hands. “This is all new for me, if you can believe it,” he says softly. “I just wanted you to enjoy yourself.”

I bump his hip with mine. “Hey, we fucked in the bathroom. I’d say I'm having a decent time.”

He snickers and leans in to kiss my cheek. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

I don’t know how to respond to that, based on tonight’s agenda, but luckily Will calls us over from a card table Jake summoned to play Exploding Snap.

~*~

A little while later we’re all sitting around the card table. I’ve elected not to play since I don’t have my wand and technically Thomus doesn’t know that they know I have my magic.

Throughout the game, Thomus gets noticeably drunker than everyone else, despite only sipping his drink. During one round while waiting for his turn, I guess all the drinks and whatever Kyle spiked his drink with, finally catch up with him. He passes out with his head propped in one hand and the other loosely clutching his cards. 

When they notice, the room goes silent except for the Christmas music still playing. Kyle slowly reaches over and shakes Thomus’ shoulder, making his head fall right onto the table with an ominous thunk that does not match the vibe of McCartney’s Wonderful Christmastime .

I stare at his face, overwhelmingly anxious about his well-being, when an uncharacteristic snore breaks through the silence between songs. 

“Finally,” Jake sighs, tossing his cards onto the table and running a hand over his face. “You sure about this, Kyle? There’s no turning back from this.”

Kyle stands, pulling out his wand. “Trust me. This is the only way.’

“What happens now?” I ask. 

Kyle moves Thomus’ unconscious form into the air where he hovers with his arms and head dangling.

But he doesn’t answer me. 

“ Kyle ,” I press, “what happens now?”

“Now, we put him to bed and by the time he wakes in the morning, you’ll be long gone,” he answers, moving with Thomus towards the stairs on the other side of the room.

I stand too, quickly following him to demand answers. “Where, exactly, will I be?”

“That’s up to you,” he answers casually. “You can probably get away with hiding here in this massive fucking house until he leaves.”

“What, you think he’s just gonna accept that I’m gone?” I ask. “No questions asked?”

“Yeah, we’ll just tell him you must’ve left in the middle of the night or something. What room am I putting him in, Jake?”

We’ve gotten to the stairs and it’s only then I realize everyone has followed us, with Will right behind me. 

“Three doors down from the top of the stairs,” Jake answers. “On the left.”

I realize it’s the same room he put us in before and my face heats at the memory of being bound to the wall and fingered within an inch of my life. We get into the room and I rush forward to pull the velvety soft duvet back from the pillows. Kyle gently lowers him and I make sure he’s settled properly to avoid potentially choking on his own vomit in his sleep. 

“What now?” I ask, pulling off Thomus’ shoes and tucking his legs under the blankets before pulling up the unfitted sheet to his chest.

“Merlin,” Kyle exclaims. “Will you quit it?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “ No , I won’t,” I say tightly. “We need this figured out before there’s no going back.”

“Fine,” he says, mimicking my stance and leaning against the wall. “What’re you so worried about?”

I take a deep breath, trying to speak calmly. “What makes you so sure he’s not going to find me?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s literally the Death Eater’s best tracker.”

“He hasn’t found George Weasley,” Will says.

“I’ve no fucking idea how George has managed to avoid getting caught by anyone , given how much of a high profile he has, but there’s no way I could do the same and be close to Voldemort like you want. A missing Lot? The Death Eaters are gonna go apeshit.”

“What about that Lot that escaped early on? Killed her owner and everything,” Kyle says.

“I’m pretty positive she’s straight up left the country,” I say, talking with my hands. “And I don’t think any of us are on board with killing him.”

Kyle nearly rolls his eyes. “I never said we had to kill him,” he says. “You’re here, out of your wards. There’s no need.”

“Okay, well me leaving the country is the exact opposite of what we want,” I say and start to pace. “How long would I be hiding?”

“I don’t know,” Kyle answers, shrugging. “Could be months.”

“Great, so you’re just gonna come get me when it’s time to, what, attack Hogwarts? Do you really think there’s gonna be another fight there? Or are we waiting for him to make an appearance somewhere?”

“I’ve heard he’s pretty reclusive right now, actually,” Will pipes in. “He hardly leaves the school.”

“Great!” I exclaim with fake enthusiasm. “So I’ll just camp out in the Forbidden Forest, then? Take my chances at running into Dementors, Death Eaters, centaurs, fuckin’ giant spiders , for fucks’ sake?”

“Girl’s got a point, Kyle,” Jake says, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning against the ornate bed post. 

“Well, what else is she going to do? She’s useless to The True Order just playing house with a Malfoy,” Kyle says.

“Hey, I’ve done stuff,” I protest. “I’ve passed important notes to the Order, hidden a fugitive right under Thomus’ nose, and it was me who got the word to that safehouse that it was going to be raided.”

“ What ?!” Jake looks at me absolutely stunned. “That was you?”

“Yes! Who else in that room from the meeting would’ve tipped them off?” I ask. “ And I’ve managed to become immune to that scary as shit magic suppression potion. Have you ever taken that shit? It’s utterly terrifying to not have your magic.” I stop my pacing and look around at all of them. “To be completely at the mercy of someone who couldn’t give a shit whether you lived or died? We’ve all been sterilized and raped and branded as property. ” 

I pull my left sleeve up, bearing the tattoo and the scars Bellatrix left me. Diana’s visibly horrified and everyone else just looks mildly uncomfortable. “And these are just the scars I’m willing to show you.”

I force myself to calm down, breathing deep in through my nose and out my mouth. “I’m not going to jump headfirst into a plan held together with Spellotape and superglue,” I say after a moment. “Thomus trusts you guys. Aren’t you his best friend, Jake? Are you really gonna break his trust by losing something he obviously has put a lot of time and effort into keeping alive?”

Kyle is glaring hard at the carpet and Jake's intense focus jumps between me and Thomus. 

Jake exhales heavily. “She’s right.”

My shoulder’s sag with relief. “Thank you.”

“We have to think of a legitimate way to get you away from him,” Diana says. “Do you think he’d ever… let you go?”

I frown. “Like… set me free?” 

She nods. “Then maybe you could get scooped up by another Death Eater or something, someone who works more closely with You-Know-Who or who’d… loan you, I guess.”

I turn around to gaze at Thomus, sleeping soundly, and recall every possessive look or grab he’s given me. “No,” I say softly. “There’s no way he’d let me go willingly.”

Kyle snorts. “Yeah I second that. The asshole nearly slits my throat if I even talk to her when he’s not around.”

“Even if I could convince him somehow,” I say, “it wouldn’t matter what he wanted. I know he’d use the Death Eaters as an excuse. He couldn’t pretend I was gone if someone saw me. The Malfoy’s reputation and the trust the Dark Lord has in them would be put in jeopardy. There’s no way he’d risk the lives of his family.”

“Is there anybody that out ranks him?” Will asks. “Someone who could make that choice for him.”

“I’m not sure, really,” I admit. “I’m sure there is, but I don’t know who. Someone older, like his brother maybe?”

“We just need a reason for them to take you from him,” Jake explains. “Like a change of… ownership.”

“Who, though?” I ask. “And why?”

“Probably best if that’s something for us to figure out,” Kyle says pointedly. “Just in case.”

I sigh heavily and start heading towards the door. “Whatever. All I care about is that it’s legit, okay? Something that’s not gonna get any of us killed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Will agrees, stepping out of my way. “Where’re you going?”

“To stand outside and pretend that I’m free.”

[kuromiisanton]

People watching

genre. angst

warnings. sad feelings. yearning. feeling as if you aren’t enough. self doubt. 

pairing. struggling musician!yoongi x fem!reader

a/n: I was listening to people watching Conan Gray when this idea came to mind and I couldn't stop thinking about it, so here it is. This story is written in yoongi's pov as well!  Hope you all enjoy it! (not proof read as per usual)

Watching people was something Yoongi often did. It had always given him a sense of comfort seeing how others were dealing with the world in their own ways. Watching others live their day to day lives helped him escape the never ending loop of whatever his life had amounted to. Failure. Something his parents often called him whenever he would go home for the holidays, he knew the career he had chosen wasn’t something his family would ever support but how could he live a life of misery with a job he hated? He could live a life of misery while doing the thing he loves.

Oftentimes he wondered if that’s how you lived… the girl he had always seen sitting in the corner of the local coffee shop. Always surrounded by books, papers, and your laptop. Focused on whatever task you had set for yourself to do that day. He had always wondered what you were doing. Was she working on an essay for her college course? Writing emails to her boss? Maybe she was a struggling artist of a sort like him… 

Staring at you was what took up a lot of his time while at the coffee shop. Though some might find it creepy, all he was doing was looking in curiosity. Finding inspiration for his next song or beat… most of the songs he had written recently was based on you. The girl in the corner of the coffee shop, always unknown to her surroundings. 

His eyes trace your face, the crease between your brow, the slope of your nose, and your lips… he sometimes wondered how your lips would feel on his. They look so soft and plump, he feared that if he ever got the chance he wouldn’t be able to stop kissing you. Releasing a sigh, Yoongi looks down at the empty sheet music he had been trying to work on for days now. 

Nothing was coming to mind except you. That's all Yoongi could think of nowadays… you could find Yoongi day dreaming of all the scenarios of him getting up and actually talking to you. How he would woo you with his knowledge of music, and how you would smile and laugh. He was always envious of how his close friend Hoseok could always approach whoever he wanted to and talk to them without any fears. If he was more like Hoseok, would you notice him?

Yoongi checks the clock and finds it’s half past six. The sun starts to set, gives the earth a golden glow and shines brightly through the window of the coffee shop. The scrapping sound of a chair against the ground sounds through the shop causing his head to turn towards where it came from. There you were packing up to head out for the night. Yoongi felt a familiar tug in his chest to speak to you, to stand up and introduce himself to you, compliment you and offer to take you to get a drink.

But, just like all the times before… Yoongi stays seated and watches as you pass him by towards the glass door. Where he won’t see you for another week or two…and during that time away he continuously thinks of all the things he could have said to you. Min Yoongi sits in that coffee shop watching you walk towards the bus stop, only to turn away to continue people watching.

©kuromiisanton, all rights reserved.

[daisyvisions]

ok i’m picturing jacob + fingering in front of a mirror while he tells you how pretty you look. do with that what you will 🫠

The Sweetest Sounds

Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), Fingering, mirror play, clit play, nipple play, pet names (sweetheart, princess), mentions of corruption

A/N: Made this after the events of this Jacob fic because why not? 🥴

⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆

Ever since the day you asked Jacob to pop your cherry, you could never look at him properly in the eyes without wanting to jump his bones.

It was like you turned into this sex-crazed addict. Thinking about how he filled you up to the brim with his length late at night, trying to replicate the same sensation he’d given you as you inserted your fingers inside your drenched cunt. But it wasn't the same, you knew that.

So maybe it was time to ask him to teach you how…

——————

It was a Thursday night. He’d ask you to come over his place to hangout and listen to some songs he was practicing on his guitar. You made sure to wear your cutest skirt with top that matched and get all dolled up for him (even if it was just a simple hangout).

To be honest, being in his room again was never the same. Sudden memories of you riding his cock flooded your mind, making you clench and rub your thighs together to try and ignore the growing moisture between your legs.

The night got even worse for you as you intently watched his fingers strum and pluck his guitar with ease as he sat on the edge of his bed while you sat across him at the other end.

You bit your bottom lip, trying not to think about how good his thick fingers would feel touching your sensitive bud as if he was strumming his guitar.

You were too focused on his fingers that everything else in the room had become blurry. You were so hyper-focused on his fingers you didn’t realize the pattern of your breathing becoming irregular and the front of your underwear sticky with your arousal.

But Jacob noticed everything.

“Is there something on your mind sweetheart?” he asks.

“Huh?” You mindlessly blink at him.

“It seems like you’re focused on something else and not the song I’m playing for you.” He lets out a soft chuckle.

A rush of heat creeps up on your cheeks when he called you out, feeling incredibly embarrassed. You lower your eyes to try and look away from him, but Jacob is quick to catch you and holds your chin with his fingers.

“Why don't you tell me what you’re thinking of?” His beautiful brown eyes stare into yours, feeling your body melt into his touch.

His thumbs lightly swipes your bottom lip, making your breath hitch and core throb.

You suddenly give into him and blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind, “Y-your fingers.”

Jacob tilts his head to the side, intrigued with your response. He sets his guitar on the side with his free hand and scoots his body closer to yours. “What about my fingers sweetheart?”

“I-uh- I can’t stop looking at them and how you play-” you utter as mouth feels like it’s quickly drying up from embarrassment.

Jacob however seems to catch on quick with what you’re trying to say. He knew he’d corrupted you so bad especially with the way you’ve been acting around him. It was only a matter of time til you broke and gave into your newfound desires.

“Need me to teach you another lesson? Is that what you want?” He asks you while holding both your hands (just like the first time). His thumb stroking over your knuckles.

You nod your head profusely, feeling a major relief that you didn’t have to word out what you were thinking since he read exactly what was on your mind.

“Come here.” His soft honey voice beckoning you. You get up from your spot on the bed and stand right in front of him. He places his hands at the side of your thighs, slowly moving them up under your skirt as his fingers loop around the garter of your underwear.

“Mind if I?” He looks up at you with those alluring eyes. You respond with a yes and he proceeds to pull your underwear down to your ankles, lifting your feet to completely remove them.

Jacob adjust his position at the corner edge of his bed, scooting backwards so there’s enough space for you to sit in front of him. “Sit here sweetheart, facing the mirror.”

You do as you’re told, sitting in the space he’d made for you and lying your back against his chest.

You both look at your reflections through the mirror, his chin resting on your shoulder while his hands are on your hips.

“Spread your legs for me sweetheart” he coos in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You bend and angle your legs apart enough to see your glistening cunt on display through the mirror.

You feel Jacob’s erection poking behind you, the thought of his hard cock making you grow wetter than before.

His hands travel to the hem of your shirt, lifting them to your chest and pulling down the cups of your bra, the cold air hitting your nipples.

He snakes one hand to one of your breasts cupping them gently before placing your hardened bud in-between his fingers as his other hand travels down to your cunt, slipping his two fingers in-between your folds.

“You’re so beautiful like this, out on display just for me…” his whispers in your ear as he looks at you through the mirror, his bottom lip grazing your earlobe.

“Jacob please…” You whine.

“Please what?” he responds.

“Play with me like your guitar…” You blurt out. He grins at your confession. “Anything for my princess.”

His fingers start slowly circling and flicking through your folds while his other hand rubs and plucks your nipple, as if you were his instrument.

You moan deeply by his ear, keeping your eyes on the mirror as you grow addicted seeing him corrupt you again.

“You sound sweeter than the chords of my guitar princess...” He remarks as he starts kissing your neck and humming the song he was playing earlier, increasing the movements of his fingers as your face contorts with pleasure,

“… but let’s see if you can keep up with the tempo.”

[musingginger]

who’ll stop the rain // eddie munson

Synopsis – You and Eddie get paired in an end of year project, literally a waking tormented nightmare for you. But your nightmare quickly turns into your daydream.

Pairing- Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings –18+ only, minors DNI, LOTS of cursing, angst, insecurity, kissing, LOTS of fluff, mutual pining, SMUT, nipple play, thigh grinding, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), protected p + v sex, soft!eddie, a tad bit of possessive!eddie at the end, happy ending.

Word Count – 7.6k (sorry, I just couldn’t stop writing.)

A/N- Thinking about turning this into a series, but not 100% sure on that. Any constructive criticism would be appreciated. Also, this is only edited by me, so apologies if there are typos. And of course, if you enjoy it, please reblog! Loved the idea of a pining/angsty fem reader getting thrown for a loop with Eddie Munson AND getting caught in the rain! Title comes from a CCR song (I’ve been listening to a lot of them recently). Hope you enjoy! Thanks! <3

I do not grant permission for anyone to use my work. Under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

‘Fuck.’ You thought. Mrs. O’Donnell had just read out partners for your end of year literary project before the weekend. Of course, she paired you with him. Him.

Eddie The Freak Munson. Was it just an act of kindness towards Eddie, since she knew you would carry the entire project if you had to? Or was it to torment you? Did she see how you looked at him in class? How you hadn’t been able to get him out of your mind since you saw him Freshman year? Of course, then he was a Junior. You had never entertained the idea that you would be graduating in the same class. It always seemed like his band and his D&D crew took over his every waking thought and the last thing on his mind was his studies.

‘Jesus H. Christ.’  You thought as you brought your gaze over towards him. He simply smiled that charming smirk that got him out of almost everything, and also got him into so much trouble, from what you’ve heard. Your breath caught in your throat as he gave you a little wave.

‘Hey.’ He mouthed. Immediately you turned away, not wanting to show any attraction towards him. Regardless of how you disengaged, you had noticed his staring at you all year. She just HAD to sit you two next to each other. Every time those chocolate brown eyes gazed in your general direction; you felt a deep heat. You couldn’t help it. It was surprising every time.

You turned your face down towards your textbook, darting your eyes away, cheeks turning red. You silently pleaded no one noticed. Finally, the bell rang, and you grabbed your stuff quicker than you ever had before. Typically, you were the last one to leave class, even though it was right before lunch time. Some would call you a brown noser, but those who really knew you, understood that the caf brought you a lot of anxiety, that you tried to avoid at all costs. However, on this day, you felt a light touch on your forearm.

“Hey partner.” The brunette spoke with his sultry voice.

“Hi.” You say curtly, not looking at Eddie. You shuffled into the hallway, trying to put away your anxiety and want, focusing on the squeaking of your converse as you try to put as much distance between you and your secret desire. As you scurried down the linoleum, you felt a breeze behind you, blowing into your long hair, making your green and blue opened flannel float in front of you.

“Wait up!” Eddie called, passing you with ease, standing in your path between you and your sanctuary, the library. He pressed his hand into a nearby locker, making you nearly knock into him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll just do the project. You don’t have to do anything.” You say as you desperately try to slide past him.

“Oh, come on now, Y/N. You can’t expect me to not put in any of the work.” Putting up an arm, blocking you. His leather jacket and patch covered jean vest, shifting, showing off more of his Hellfire shirt. ‘How many of those shirts does he have?’

Clearing your throat, “Sure I can, Munson. You’ve failed this class multiple times already. There’s a reason why Ms. O’Donnell put us together. You’ll get a passing grade to graduate. Don’t worry about it.” You’re finally able to slide past him, making a beeline towards the library.

“Wait up!” Eddie yells after you, following into the last place he would be caught seen in. “Wait, hold on, Y/N.” He says breathlessly. After taking a few deep breaths, he continues. “Look, I know I could easily just let you do all the work, but I need to contribute… I… want to help.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Fine, Munson. What do you want to do to help?”

He scratches the back of his long, curly hair before speaking. “How about, we meet at the picnic table in the trailer park after school. Say… 4pm? And we can work it out then? Unless you’ve got other Friday plans…?”

You take in a deep sigh. “No, no… I- Alright, I’ll meet you there.” You turn heel and almost bolting out of there. Your heart pounding and your chest unable to take a deep breath. ‘This better not be a mistake.’  Pondering as you find a quiet corner amongst the stacks of books to finish off your copy of The Skelton Crew by Stephen King.

----

You couldn’t breathe. Your hands were shaking as you walked through the trailer park. You had been here before, as you had become close with Max after the death of her brother, Billy. Surprisingly, you saw the dark, curly haired, leather clad Adonis at the table as you walked up. “I’m shocked you beat me here.” You say with a slight tease.

“Well, when I was paired up with one of the smartest girls in our class, I knew I had to be on my game.” Eddie says, standing up, turning towards you. His grin was more sheepish this time. Was it out of excitement to see you? You shook the thought out of your head. Eddie took off his jean vest and leather jacket, tossing them down with comfortability. “You didn’t walk here, did you?”

“No, um, I borrowed a bike from Wheeler.”

Eddie smirked, knowing that he had told the Hellfire boys about being paired with you. “And how did he get home?”

“With Henderson’s mom of course.” You smiled back, understanding the ridiculousness of it all.

“I was gonna offer you a ride, if you had given me the chance.” He paused slightly. “Or hotwired a car. Either way.” He winked at you.

“Best that you didn’t commit grand theft auto then. Could really hurt your chances with graduating.”

“Oh sweetheart, being a Munson hurt my chances in graduating.”

As you sit, you nod in acknowledgement, his dad’s reputation proceeding him. You start to pull out your worn copy of the American classic and your note pad. “Alright… well… uh… what do you know about To Kill A Mockingbird?” Eddie gives you a small smirk.

----

You quickly realize that Eddie didn’t actually read the novel. After two hours of you walking him through the plot he says, “So wait, you’re telling me that he was innocent, was going to be proven innocent and then is killed anyways? Just because he’s black?”

“Yeah, it’s fucked up isn’t it?”

Blinking a few times, Eddie was taken aback by your cursing but appreciated it’s timing. “It’s totally fucked up. Wow. Damn.” He sat in silence for a moment before speaking. “I should really read this book.”

You let out a loud laugh, which make him smile. “Yeah, Munson. You should’ve done that to begin with.”

“M’lady, call me Eddie. Please.” He said, a little dramatically, giving a little seated bow. You couldn’t help but laugh at his silliness. Suddenly, you turn your gaze downward, staring at the grains in the worn picnic table. The feeling of regret about how you had been treating him the last few years starts to well in your chest. You knew that he just a silly, big-hearted teddy bear underneath all that leather and metal, but you didn’t expect him to be so sincere. You start to pick at your dark washed jeans where the knee was starting to wear through. He tilts his head down, trying to meet your eyes with his. Your eyes flutter up, and as soon as they do, you feel a few drops of oncoming rain.

Both of you crane your necks back, looking up at the darkening sky. “It’s not going to rain is it? I didn’t see it on the weather…” Your voice filled with worry.

“Me either.”

“YOU, Eddie Munson, check the weather?”

“Well of course! How else am I supposed to keep this leather in its best condition?” Eddie says playfully, patting his leather jacket, still laying on the table.  You let out a soft laugh, and quickly the sky opens to a down pour.

“Fuck...” He swiftly grabbed your books in one hand, slides his outer layers in the crook of his elbow and takes your arm in the other. He pulls you under a large oak tree, allowing you both to take refuge. His strong grasp on your arm takes the breath out of your chest, his ringed fingers pressing into your soft skin. Pulling you in close to his chest, his long, wet hair tickling your face. He laughs while turning to look at you. His wide smile is hard to resist. You laugh back at him, trying to catch your breath. “You good?” He asks.

“More than good.”

“Here, let me…” He tucks a couple of tendrils behind your ear, with a softness that you didn’t think the freak possessed. Your white tank under your flannel was soaked from the Midwest sky opening up. Rough fingertips found their way to your jawline, as you felt him tremble lightly. “Sorry.” Eddie says quickly, while pulling his hand away from your face.

“Don- Don’t be.”

A long silence filled the air. “Y/N… I gotta confess something…” You nod in assurance, pressing him to continue. “I… shit. Sorry. I’m not great with this… I… um…. I think you’re amazing.” He takes a deep breath before continuing, fighting to get the words out. “You’re wicked smart, and kind towards others, and gorgeous…” He looks down, still holding your arm. “I’m really glad we’re partners.”

Your lips part as you take in a small breath. “I… I am too.”

He looks at you with surprise. “Really? Cause…. the look you gave me today was could’ve cut me like a knife.” He looked down at his hand on your arm.

“I’m sorry about that…” Shaking your head. “I- I don’t know. I was just surprised.”

“Surprised… in a good way or a bad way.”

“I- I don’t know…but I think… in a good way.” You look up at him, his large doe eyes meeting yours. The rain still pours down, getting both of you wet, and yet you didn’t want to leave this moment. Eddie hands you your books, which you grasp close to your chest. “Thanks.” You say softly. His now free hand touches your jaw again, lightly brushing away more of your hair.

In a flash, his lips meet yours. The electricity between makes you feel like you could explode that instant. Your heart POUNDS in against your sternum, making it feel like it could break any moment. You both hold in that sensation for what feels like a lifetime and a millisecond all at once. Eddie suddenly pulls his lips from yours.

“Fuck… s-sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I-I didn’t ask, and I just-” Before he could finish his sentence, you pressed your lips hard against his. It was almost like the rain was coming down as hard as you kissed him. The books pressed into both of your bodies hard, forcing a space between you that you were thankful for. You didn’t know if you had the control in this moment without it. You broke from him, panting, letting out a pant as you smiled.

“Now we’re even.” You say matter of factly. Eddie rubs your arms, feeling you shiver. Partially from the cold of the rain, but partially from the electromagnetic current running between you.

“I don’t want this to come off the wrong way, but um… my trailer is close by and uh… you know… you can warm up there.” He suddenly realizes what he could mean by that and studders. “I don’t mean.. like WARM up, but you know.. like you could get warm there…” His face turns pink with fluster as he fumbled over his words, not wanting to mess this up. “My uncle is on a 24 hour shift, and he’s already gone for the night… so.. I mean… if you want…”

You grasp his hand, reassuringly. “I DO want, Eddie… Please, I’m freaking freezing.”

Eddie smiled a wide smile, as he wraps his arm around you. “Ok, we’re gonna have to run. Hold on, sweetheart.” He grips into your waist as you both take off in a sprint. Feeling like a school kid all over again, you both heartily laugh as you cross the field towards his trailer. Stepping up to the door, he lets go of you, fumbling to get his keys out his pocket. He drops his keys on the ground, “Butterfingers.” He mumbles to himself.

You laugh loudly, as you both get completely soaked. “Eddie hurry! The leather!” You joke, loving how the rain was bringing out your playfulness. It had been a while since a guy made you laugh this hard.

“I’m trying, princess. Just hold your horses.” He finally gets a grip on his key and slides it into the lock. He took hold of your hand, as you made your way inside. As you glance back, you see the curtain in Max’s window move. ‘I wonder what she’s going to say about this tomorrow.’ You think as your eyes set sight on the inside of the Munson trailer.

“Sorry about the mess. The maid took the week off.” Eddie says as he desperately tries to clean up the place a little bit.

“It’s ok.” You give him a soft smile while looking around the bachelor pad. Taking note of the guitar picks strewn all over the table, the slight smell of stale cigarettes and weed. Other than the clutter, it was cleaner than you had expected from two single guys. You gently place down your books as you hear Eddie shuffle down the hallway.

“Um, if you want, the bathroom’s down here. A hot bath will help warm you up.” He says loudly enough for you to hear, rummaging through his dresser. “You can wear something of mine until we get your clothes dry.” Coming back into the living room, hair pushed back from his face from how quickly he was walking back to you. “Too much?” He asks as you turn to him sort of wide eyed at his excitement or nervousness. You couldn’t pinpoint which.

“No-not at all. That all sounds great.” You rub your arms, feeling the goosebumps through your shirt. He gives you a wide smile, as he turns back down the hall, starting a bath for you. Eddie’s eyes dart around the bathroom for something to make suds with. He grabs his shower gel, adding a little bit to the water, watching as the tub fills with soft white suds. He runs his hands through the water, watching it swirl before poking his head out into the hall.

“You wanna come test out the water?” The metalhead asks, tilting his head in the direction of the tub. You had been picking at a spot on the cuff of your sleeve, nervousness taking over. Rolling the tiny tuffs of flannel in between your fingers as you peak your head around the door frame, into the tight, but inviting bathroom. Eddie stands up and moves out of the way, letting you squeeze past. Leaning down, and dragging your hand through the perfectly warm water, bubbles popping, slightly tickling you.

“Feels great.” You say as you stand up, practically face to face Eddie, your lips almost touching. The electricity began again, and you watched as the corner of his mouth twitched. God, you were just dying to get his lips on yours again. He smiles shyly before clearing his throat.

“So... I... uh-I got you set up with some dry clothes and uh-a towel.” He pats the crudely folded pile on the toilet seat. “And there’s a lock on the door for your privacy… If you need anything, just shout.”

“Eddie-” You say, grabbing his hand. “Thank you.” He smiles, squeezing your hand and gives you a kiss on the forehead. As he lets go, his fingertips linger on you. He turns back before shutting the door. You sigh, looking at the door lock. You smirk, shaking your head. ‘Always the gentleman.’ You touch the lock about to turn it, but think against it. ‘What if he needs to get in here while I’m in the bath? Would it be the worst thing in the world if he had to barge in?’ You take off your clothes, shivering as you get into the warm, bubble filled waters. You pull your knees up to your chest, pressing your cheek against your kneecaps, breathing in the earthy, sweet smell from the impromptu bubble bath, Irish Spring.

After a little while, you hear something in the hallway that makes you open your eyes. Eddie shuffles down the hallway, settling himself on the floor right outside the bathroom door. He places his guitar on his lap, as he starts to pluck away at the strings softly. The soft music filters in through the door, and you lay back sinking into the bath, closing your eyes again and smiling to yourself. You listen Eddie’s strumming, feeling every chord ripple through your body.

“Mmm… What are you playing?” You ask through the store.

“It’s-ah-it’s N.I.B by Black Sabbath. I’ve been trying to work it out, and I guess you inspired me to pick it back up.”

“Mmmm…I like it.” Your compliment makes Eddie smile to himself, blushing even. He continues through the song, humming the melody along. Your bones finally start to feel warm again, and you grab the deceptively fluffy towel. Throwing on the Dio tee and as you grab the dark grey sweatpants, you notice that Eddie left you a pair of long socks for your feet. For what seems the millionth time that day, you smiled to yourself at his thoughtfulness. ‘This boy better stop being so nice to me, or else I’m gonna fall in love with him.’ Sliding them onto your feet, you open the door, seeing Eddie’s curly mop of hair sitting right outside.

“All warm?” He asks, getting up, holding his behemoth of a guitar in one hand, reaching for your hand with the other. He himself dons an Iron Maiden tee and worn basketball shorts.

“Ye-yeah thanks. That was actually really nice.” You look down as Eddie’s fingers start to lace in with yours. “I don’t think anyone’s ever… uh… you know…done that for me.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” Eddie says softly. Darting your gaze up, his eyes looking at you with tenderness. He leans in slowly, capturing your lips with his. You feel a deep heat build in your chest, almost tipping over the edge, as Eddie suddenly breaks the kiss. “It looks, really good on you.” He lightly touches the bottom of the shirt. He smiles and then reaches around you, grabbing your cold, wet clothes from the bathroom sink.

“Go make yourself comfortable. I got this.” He gestures towards the living room. He swiftly moves towards his bedroom, putting his guitar back in its rightful place. “So, are ya hungry?” He turns on a space heater in his room, grabbing a drying rack and placing it right in front. “We don’t really have a whole lot here, unless you like Chef Boyardee. But we could order a pizza? Surfer Boy always does a goo job.” He gently lays your clothes on the rack, so they dry faster. You laugh to yourself a little bit at his charming domesticity before answering.

“I could definitely eat. Pizza sounds great.” Leaning against the kitchen countertop.

Eddie grabs the phone, dialing the number. “What’s your order?”

“It’s probably super predicable, but pepperoni.”

“Nah, who doesn’t like pepperoni?” He smiles, putting the phone to his ear. You pick at the bottom of your borrowed shirt, getting lost in your thoughts. ‘Really, what am I doing here? Did he really mean everything he said, or is it a trick to just get in my pants?’ Shaking your head a little to the words of self-deprecation and doubt filling your mind. ‘There’s no way this is really happening… God I’m such an idiot.’ You hear him put down the phone a little too hard, making you jump.

“Should be here in 15 min- Hey, are you ok, y/n?” He noticed your fidgeting, worried that he might have made you feel uncomfortable. “Look, I know I’m a little, uh, how does Henderson put it… intimidating or- uh- intense, I guess, sometimes.” He starts to fight to get the words out. “I-I don’t want you to think I’m trying anything here. I really did mean everything I said back there about how I feel about you. I’ve been crushing on you for the last year… and I’m just excited I get to spend time with you.” His fingers take the shirt out of your hand, intertwining them with his. “And if you’re uncomfortable with anything, just say the word. Ok?”

You nod. “Ok…” You breathe a little easier, giving him a small smile. “I am really happy I’m here... with you…” Eddie smiles widely. “And, you know, we haven’t put a dent in our project yet.”

Eddie rolls his eyes as he groans at you. “I was hoping you forgot out about.”

“No way, Eddie. We’re gonna get you that diploma. You wanna get back to work?”

“I suppose…” Looking up dramatically then looking back at you. “Only you, gorgeous girl, could convince me to focus.” You roll your eyes at him, grabbing your books, still slightly damp from the rain, blushing to yourself.

----

It was hard to focus on your project for the next few hours with Eddie sitting across from you. He would gently touch your hand as you were explaining something pivotal, making you flustered. He liked watching you trip over your words and rosiness to your cheeks reappear. At one point, Eddie moved from across the table from you to the seat next to you, pressing his bony knee against yours. A hot white heat radiated from the spot where your knees touched. You could barely take it but had to continue to bring the project back to the center of attention. You suddenly felt a responsibility to get him to graduate.

Eddie sighs, his cheek pressed in his left hand. “Can we take a break? I’m dying for a smoke.”

“We’ve had to take breaks the whole time! You can’t seem to concentrate for more than 15 minutes at a time!” You laugh softly at him.

“Pretty please?” Clasping his hands in front of you, big doe eyes wide and blinking.

“Fine, fine. But we’ve really got to get this project done. I don’t want to keep torturing you.”

Eddie grabs his pack of smokes, opening the trailer door, one foot on the porch. Typically, he would go outside to have a smoke, but since the rain was still going, this was the best he could do. He leaned up against the doorframe, looking over at you.

“With you, it’s not torture.” He gently blows out smoke, smiling before looking down. “I doubt anything I do with you would be considered torture. And besides, it’s not due for another two weeks, right sweetheart?”

The light from the lit bud of his cigarette made his face glow tenderly in the darkness and his rings glint. His eyes bore into you, looking right to your soul. You break eye contact with him, grabbing what’s left of the pizza and start to clean up.

“You don’t have to do that Y/N. I’m gonna do it in a minute.”

“No, no. It’s ok. I don’t mind. Really.” You grab some dish soap from under the sink and start to fill the sink up with warm water.

“Can you just-just sit down please? You’re the guest.”

“You got the pizza. The least I could do is clean up.”

“Oh come on now. Y/n please stop cleaning up. Seriously, I’ve got it.”

He puts out his cigarette on the porch, before swiftly closing the door and the gap between the two of you. Your hands were a millisecond from being in the soapy water when Eddie grabs them. “Don’t you dare….” He holds your hands in front of you as you playfully push your hands towards the sink. He tuts at you shaking his head gently, lacing his fingers with yours. You spin around playfully, laughing and twisting out of his grasp.

A loud, raspy groan comes from his throat as he grabs your waist, pulling you into him. “Didn’t take you for a rebel, Y/L/N…”

“I’m… Full of surprises, Munson….” You say panting softly after your brief roughhousing. Both of your chests heaved with heavy breath when the electricity started again. The playful flirting and teasing over the last few hours broke over him as Eddie’s hand presses into the small of your back securely and he placed his full lips on yours.

A small gasp escapes from your throat, as you melt into his touch. Wrapping your arms around his chest, holding him firmly to you as the kiss deepens. His other hand finds its wait to the back of your neck and into your hair as his lips parted yours. His strong tongue explores your mouth, with passion but a kind gentleness. The rain continues to come down in sheets outside the trailer’s walls.

Eddie’s hand makes its way down your back, to your butt cheek, cradling it, pulling you in closer. Both of you let out a soft moan as he cups your ass, your leg moving up his thigh slightly. You’re pressed against the kitchen counter, digging a little bit into your back. The kiss gets hotter and rougher. Wet sounds and tender moans fill the trailer.

“God you’re so beautiful.” Eddie murmurs as he slides you up onto the counter.

Your hands push some of his hair back from his beautiful face, getting lost in his curls. Sliding them behind his neck, tracing small circles with your thumb as his body pushes into your knees.  His hands are all over your thighs, grabbing them possessively. Needing to have him physically closer, you spread your legs, giving him room to wedge himself between your warm thighs. An immeasurable heat starts to build in your sex, feeling Eddie’s bulge harden with every second.

Eddie slides his hands from your ass to your waist, pulls back and looks at you intently. You try to lean in for another kiss, but he stops you. “Is this ok?” He asks. “We can stop whenever you want. I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything you don’t wanna do.” He tucks some of your hair back behind your ear, stroking your cheek.

“I’m ok. I mean…I haven’t done anything like this in a while, but I’m ok, Eddie… Are you ok?” You ask your eyes darting down, feeling a little insecure about what you just admitted.

He tucks his pointer finger under your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes meet his. “I’m more than ok, sweetheart.” He smiles before kissing you hard on the lips, making his way down your neck. Eddie leaves long, wet kisses trailing down from your jaw to your collarbone. His teeth roughly nip at your neck, not wanting to leave too many marks, as much as he loves to do it. You moan into the ceiling as your hips naturally buck into his bulge. It’s exciting and your heart is going a mile a minute, but it feels so familiar to be in this moment with him.

Eddie’s rough hand tucks under the borrowed shirt and gingerly moves to your bra band. “Eddie, touch me… please…” You breathe in his ear. You hear a low growl coming from his throat as he pulls you off the counter and up against the hallway wall. It’s a flurry of hands and panting, as he strips you off your shirt and you his. He kisses your cleavage, giving you soft bites along the outline of your breasts before he unclasps your bra with one hand. A hard kiss is pressed to your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck, your breasts pressed against his pecs. He pulls back and gets a good look at you.

“Fuck baby…” Eddie’s full lips latch onto your right nipple. You let out a loud whine, the sensitivity was a lot to take already. His strong tongue twirls around the hard bead, and once he was satisfied with the right nipple, he moved to the left. His hand never leaving your other breast, groping it firmly. You sneak your hand down the front of his sweats, cupping his hardness. You gasp as you feel him for the first time. Even through pants, his thickness left you speechless. His eyes roll back as you give it a soft stroke.

“Do you wanna go to my room?” He asks, coming back down to Earth. You nod quickly, and he grabs your hand, sprinting with you down the hallway, making you laugh loudly.

“EDDIE!” You laugh as you fall on the bed. You throw your head back as he peppers your neck and breasts with kisses, long curly tendrils tickling your skin. Large hands grip the elastic waist band of the sweats, looking up at you, waiting for permission.

You nod down at him. “I want you to see me, Eddie….” You say with anticipated breath. Eddie gives you a big, boyish grin, kissing you again, as he pulls down your bottoms gently.

The cool air hits your wet, warm arousal immediately. You’re slightly embarrassed on how wet you are, really showing off your recent inexperience. Bits of your pubic hair clinging to each other with your wetness.

Eddie’s eyes widen with excitement. “Did you get this wet, just for me, honey?” He licks his lips, leaning down, looking back up at you with his big, chocolate eyes. “Can I taste you? Please?” He presses delicate kisses into your inner thighs, teeth grazing over the sensitive skin.

Your face flushes a deep red, Eddie’s new favorite color on you as you murmur “Yes.” Eddie gives you a bite on your inner thigh while letting out a snarl with want. He spreads your legs wider kissing your outer lips. You pant softly, gripping onto the comforter. He was looking at your pussy lewdly, before flattening his tongue and licking a long, firm stripe up to your sensitive clit. A loud yelp escapes your mouth, and his lips wrap around the bundle of nerves, letting out a soft hum.

“Oh my god! FUCK!” You yell out at the overwhelming sensation.

“You like that, honey?”

“Yea- don’t-don’t stop!”

Your pleas cause Eddie to smile as he happy obliges. His middle and ring fingers gently rub at your weeping hole. Slowly he probes into your warm pussy, sliding in only up to his first knuckle. His other ringed hand, grips your thigh harder, pressing the cold metal into your now hot skin. You buck your hips against his fingers, wanting more, needing more.

Finally, he fills your pussy with his fingers, pressing the tips into the fleshy area of your G-spot. You let out a low moan as he diligently starts to pump his thick fingers in and out of your tightness. Your right hand finds its way to the top of his head, and your left grips the comforter for dear life. It felt like you were slowly climbing a roller coaster, and all you wanted to do was feel the adrenaline crash over you.

As your orgasm builds, you push Eddie’s mouth harder into your sex. He never once took his eyes off you. He loved watching your facial expressions as you climaxed.

“Fu-Fuck. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum Eds!” Screaming loudly as you hit the peak of your climax. All it took was one long hum and few hard pumps from Eddie and euphoria washed over you. Your back arched as if you were a woman possessed. Eddie holds onto you, not letting go til you come back down.

You fall back on the bed, eyes closed, with damp sweat on your brow. He gives your clit one more kiss, before sliding his fingers out of your gripping pussy. He sucks your juices off his fingers before he scatters kisses to your pussy lips and inner thighs before resting his head on your leg, looking up at you. You look down at him, feeling completely relaxed and natural like this with him. ‘Damn, he looks just so goddamn pretty like that.’

“Come ‘ere.” You slur, grabbing his hand. He pulls himself on top of you, giving you tender kisses. You’ve never tasted sweeter than on Eddie’s lips.

“Did that feel good, honey?” He plants little kisses on your lips, cheeks, and forehead.

“That was amazing, Eds. H-How do I taste?”

He groaned as you called him that sweet nickname. “Addictive.” Planting another one on you. He leans back, taking you all in. Gently brushing your hair back. He was falling in love with playing with your hair… with you. “You’re perfect. You know that?”

You cover your face with your hand, blushing from your chest to your face. “Erm… I don’t know about all that…”

He takes his free hand and moves yours away from your face. “Well, you’re perfect to me. I don’t ever want to be without you.” Looking at you lovingly, his lips still shiny with your slick. Not knowing what to say after his admission, you kiss him hard.

‘The guy is really pussy drunk, huh?’ Self-deprecation trying to ruin the party again. Shutting that thought out of your mind, you pull him into you, wrapping your leg around his lower body. He was still rock hard, as far as you could tell. Your hand slips through his dark curly happy trail, your heart pounding.

“Whoa there, sweethea- ” Eddie chokes on his last word and cracks a smile at your eagerness. His mouth opens with a silent moan when your hand slides into the warmth of his sweatpants. Finally, you feel his thick hard rod for the first time.

The sensation of having his throbbing member in your hand, made you feel goddamn horny. There was no other word for it. ‘Maybe this is really why they call him ‘The Freak.’’ You think to yourself.

“Oh my god.” He whimpers as your hand wraps around him, giving him long, firm strokes.  You kiss his chest tattoos as you pump him in your hand. Tilting your head up at him, you see his eyes are closed, and gnawing on his lip with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh fuck…” He moans into your ear as his head falls onto the pillow and into your hair. Your smell was intoxicating to him, making Eddie get lost in the rhythm of your pumping. Your wanted lust starts to overtake you.

“Do you like that, Eds?”

“Yeah honey… god… If you keep going like this, I might not be able to hold off for much longer-” Breath catches in his throat as you grip tighter on his impressive member. The deep heat starts to build between your legs again. You unknowingly start to grind into his thigh, desperately trying to find some relief.

“Wa-wai-wait wait wait wait wait.” Eddie says quicky, grabbing your hand. His eyes lock in with yours and you see how flushed he was. He gives you a soft kiss in the palm of your hand, before placing it on his chest. “You almost made me blow my load already, honey…” He says softly. For the first time notices you grinding on his leg, leaving a dark wet spot where your arousal met the fabric. “Does that feel good, Y/N?”

You bite on your bottom and top lip and just nod at him, trying to hold onto him a little longer. Eddie feels his cock dripping with precum as he watches you pleasure yourself on his leg. “That’s so hot…mmm…here, let me…” He moans as he pulls down his pants. The tip of his beautiful, pink cock gently brushes against your sensitive nub.

You let out a high whine when your bodies touch. Goosebumps appear on your arms. Eddie gently rubs your biceps, giving you gentle, earnest kisses as his cock slides between your slippery folds. You feel his large hands drifting back down to your breasts. His thumb traces your nipple in wide circles, each pass making you moan into his mouth.

“You’re so wet for me, honey. So… fucking… wet. Does that feel good babygirl?”

“So good… too good… Oh... Eddie…?” You whine.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I want you inside me. I need you inside me. Do you... have a condom?”

Eddie chuckles. “You didn’t come prepared, darling?”

You flush a deep red, feeling slightly self-conscious about what you just asked. “Well… no…”

“I’m teasing you, babygirl. I’ve got one, don’t worry.” He kisses your cheek before rolling over to the side table next to his bed. He rummages around for a second before finding the latex glove. He rips the wrapper open with his teeth, quickly putting it on his cock. Eddie pumps his length a few times, stretching out the condom over himself. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, his perfect, needy angel.

Eddie lets out a little roar as he rolls back over you, making you laugh out loud. He puts his hands in your hair, gazing deeply into your eyes. Curls are twisted around your fingers, once again, as the two of you just look at each other for a moment. Breathing in deeply, both of you taking in each other’s scent.

Eddie’s lips press hard onto yours, biting your bottom lip, trailing down your neck. A hot, burning sensation dapples your neck with every nip from him. You know you’ll have marks in the morning.

He slides his throbbing cock against your folds a few times, making the condom slick with your sweetness. Pressing up on the bed, pausing for a second. “Are you sure?”

You give a few little nods. “I’ve never been with a guy so… um… big? Ju-Just be gentle.” You say nervously, your body trembling.

“I’ll be gentle, sweetheart. I promise.” You smile at his softness, your breath becoming steadier. His arms wrapping under your back, as he positions himself at your entrance. “At least this time.” He groans into your ear as his tip presses into your pussy.

You let out a loud yell-moan as he stretches you. Eddie stops.

“He-Hey. Babygirl… are you ok?” Concern fills his eyes, as he fixes them on your face, trying to read your facial expression before you speak. “If I’m hurting you, I wanna stop.”

“No, keep going… it’s just… been a minute.” You pant, adjusting to his girth.

Eddie slides into you significantly slower than before, occasionally pausing, allowing you to get comfortable. Finally, his entire length is in you and he steadily starts to pump. “Mmmm shit sweetheart. You’re so… tight.” He pants in your ear. “God but it’s like your pussy was made for my cock.” He releases a loud crack of a moan when he hits your g-spot.

Your eyes roll back into your head, as his cock makes you feel dizzy. It was a mixture of pain and pleasure that you had never experienced before. And you liked it.  

You melt into his arms as he gently drills you, tilting your head back, giving him complete access to your neck. Perky tits bounce as your nipples gently rub against his chest, causing them to get rock hard. Eddie growls into your ear, moving his mouth onto the spot right below your ear. His strong lips latch onto it, intent on leaving a dark purple mark.

Your soft gasps turn into whines, which turn into deep, loud moans. He snaps his hips as he goes deeper and DEEPER into your pussy. “Is this what you’ve been imagining when you look at me in class?” A calloused hand lightly grips your neck.

You shake your head, unable to speak.

“Use your words, honey. I love hearing you talk.” He coos into your ear.

“It-ohfuck-it’s better than I imagined.” A sharp gasp escapes your mouth as Eddie picks up the pace. His hand grips the back of your knee, flinging it over his shoulder, giving him another inch to play with. He sits up a little, wanting to take you all in.

Sweat glistens your brow and chest, but your eyes remained closed. “Look at me, sweetheart. Please look at me.”

Your eyes flutter open at his sweet request. “There’s my girl…” He whispers, kissing your knee as he pops his hips up, forcing his cockhead to hit your g-spot over and over and over…

Your pussy starts to leak as the rollercoaster takes you up higher again. The sounds of flesh slapping into each other and your animalistic moans, was taking Eddie up with you. “Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful… I don’t know how much longer I can hold on, babygirl.”

“Eds-Eddie- I’m close… oh fuck I’m so close.” You pant out, face and upper body completely red with arousal by now. Eddie smiles and licks his thumb before placing it on your sensitive clit. “AHHH!” You let out a loud moan, opening your eyes wide, looking up at him.

He leans down over you, putting his torso on yours, needing to feel all of you on him. It was all too much for you to take. His cock stretching you out so perfectly, his rough thumb giving your clit the right amount of pressure, and then his body on yours? You teetered over the edge.

“Cum on my cock, babygirl. Come on... cum on my cock.” Eddie said with the perfect amount of encouragement and demand in his voice. Your legs started to shake uncontrollably, as you desperately held on. But he pressed onto your clit harder, and that was it.

Tears well in your eyes and you let out a loud, guttural scream as your pussy clamped around his member. Sweetness leaked out of your stretched hole. Eddie stared at you in wonder as you came from him, gritting his teeth.

His movements become erratic as falls into the euphoric ocean with you. Letting out a loud curse as hot ropes of his cum fill the condom. His arms give out as he falls on top of you, panting and groaning. You both lay there for a few seconds before he puts his weight on one of his forearms again.

Eddie brushes a tear from your eye, feeling unsettled by it. “Y/N… Sweet-sweetheart. Hey, hey…” He whispers feeling tears well up in his own eyes. He was terrified that he had hurt you, or that you now regretted the whole night.

“So-sorry. I’m ok, Eds.” Breathing in deeply, trying to regain your composure. You use the back of your hand to wipe away the last tear. “That was just-umm… wow. I was just overwhelmed. I’m ok. I swear.” You finally look at your mop haired lover, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

Eddie leaned into your touch, any worry melting away, kissing the palm of your hand again. Eventually, he’s soft enough to slide out of you and quickly ties off the condom, tossing it into the trash can. The rain had slowed to a faint patter on the roof.

He gently takes your hand in his, pressing it to your chest. “Sounds like the rain is stopping…” He whispers before clearing his throat softly. “Here’s a crazy idea… do you… want to stay the whole weekend?” You smile brightly. Eddie continues. “We could finish the project if you want.”

You playfully push him, knowing full well that project would NOT get done this weekend if it were up to him. “Ow!” He dramatically falls back, clutching his chest. “M’lady! Dost thou try to slay me? I’ll have to have you roll for dexterity!”

You roll your eyes at him. “To answer your question. I would love to stay the weeken-” Eddie cuts you off with a hard, excited kiss. “Hold on, loverboy. I gotta call my mom and tell her I’m staying at ‘Max’s’.“ Saying in air quotes.

You grab a shirt off a chair that you’re assuming is clean laundry. “See? I told ya. A rebel at heart. I love it.” He yells at you as you walk down the hall. Your feet softly falling on the floor, making your way to the phone. Giving your mom as little info as you would when you stayed at the Max's, and luckily, she didn’t press you further.

You crawled back onto the warm bed with Eddie, who had found his sweatpants again. He opens the blanket for you, patting the spot next to him. You nuzzle into his hard, tattoo covered chest, humming with contentment. He scratches your back, lovingly, kissing the crown of your head.

“Y/N?” Eddie whispers.

“Hmmm?”

“I had one more idea…”

You smirk. “I can guess what it is…”

“No-not that. Well yes that, but later.” He sighs, holding your face in his hand, the cool metal burning into your cheek as you stared up at him. “Be my girlfriend.”

“Wha-? Eds… I…”

“Be my girlfriend. Be mine.” He says all too seriously for you to even entertain the idea of it being a joke. He softens a little with your silence. “If you want to that is.”

You think on his request, before pulling him in tenderly. “Let’s do this thing.” You say determinedly.

“YES!” Eddie yells triumphantly while he cracks a smile. You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic antics as you two roll around in the bed. He guides you under him and gives you a long kiss. “Fuck yes.”

[fang-and-feather]

Tune of Love

Ikemen Vampire - Mozart/OC

Mozart's girlfriend decides to be the one to play a song for him on his birthday.

This is a little something I pulled up at last minute to celebrate Mozart's birthday. (really last minute, because it is nearly midnight where I live)

AO3 Version / IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

Mozart closed his eyes, focusing on the music and the joy it brought him.

He wasn’t used to being the one listening to someone else play, nor to just allow himself to enjoy it. But there he was, listening to his girlfriend’s sweet voice, accompanied by the gentle sound of the violin, and it was probably the best performance he’d ever listened to.

And not because he loved her and she was playing it especially for him. Amy was actually more talented at playing than he expected when she brought the idea up.

But what he enjoyed the most was that she chose a romantic song from her time that she had never played in front of another person and with lyrics especially chosen for this special moment between them, and, for once, there was emotion in what she was singing.

He’d listened to her in the past, of course. It was Amy’s habit to start singing during random tasks, but, although her voice was melodious, like a bird born to sing, Mozart always thought she was detached from her music.

To him, though, she sang with heart and soul. It wasn’t just music anymore; it was feelings given voice, even if the words were her own.

And being a song from the future, played to him, who could probably learn it from that single performance. It was like a special secret between the two of them.

When the song ended, both opened their eyes, gaze meeting each other’s. Amy blushed and gave him a little playful bow and a shy smile.

“I am a little out of practice.” She muttered, looking away. It sounded like an excuse.

“It didn’t sound out of practice.” Mozart stood up and crossed the room to stand before her, cradling her chin so she would look at him. “And even if it did, never put your efforts down like this.” He sighed in exasperation, but when her blush intensified, Mozart couldn’t fight a little smile forming on his lips.

Amy acted so confident in front of other people. He was the only one allowed to see her true self, and that alone made him happy, even if, sometimes, he wished part of that confidence was real and she did not downplay her abilities like that.

“Well, it is your birthday, so I wanted to do my best for you.”

The violin was carefully set aside, and Amy stood up. Mozart’s hand had never left her face and, when she was standing, his other arm looped around her waist as he pulled her in for a kiss.

“Thank you for the wonderful performance, Meine Liebe.” And for everything else. She had put so much effort into celebrating his birthday and it made him happy to know how much she valued him.

“It was my pleasure.” This time, she was the one to kiss him. At first a couple or little pecks, before she deepened it. Mozart could feel the tension and hesitation in her touch, but the passion was there and his heart was beating so fast he felt like it could burst. He wanted nothing more than to take her to bed right away and was surprised when her next words echoed his thoughts. “But today is not over yet and neither is our private celebration.”

That sudden confidence was also surprising, but Mozart couldn’t say he disliked it.

Maybe he was greedy for wanting more of her after everything, but he didn’t mind. When she pulled away and looked at him with her flushed cheeks and shining eyes, he wouldn’t be able to let it end there, even if he wanted. Not while Amy looked so adorable, and then kissed him the way she did. But having her bring it up when she was usually very shy made him even happier.

“Good. Because you are the only gift I want right now.”

Mozart picked his girlfriend up and kissed her while carrying her to bed, to make her sing a different kind of song for him.

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

[somethingshifted]

(cut the post since it was getting long)

@blobbypancacc

while i don't know of all of damon's inspirations, you could say doing different genres and finding up-and-coming young artists to collaborate with is experimentation itself even if the genres/styles are repeated, gorillaz's "a solar collaboration" was only just in 2018. cracker island is pop which you usually don't associate with experimentation but it was intentionally made as an exploration into Pop with a capital P, not b/c he's now forever writing music in this style. i think judging experimentation is a subjective thing to me 🤷‍♂️ i simply do not know enough about music creation or how to even delineate genres to answer clearly, aside from disagreeing with "it's not like S/T or Demon Days so its not experimental" which is some opinion i come across when trying to see what people felt about more current albums. i thought humanz was experimental! and it's very much inspired by the time it was written. same with song machine.

i don't know if they'll ever be interested in having a stronger hand in the character writing, but i kind of gave up on wishing for that. preserving the style of info dropping via interviews is great, but i complained about the writing choices enough on this blog. there's some interviews from here and here where you can see the reasoning behind gorillaz which was 1. controlled fictional celebrities 2. parodying and 3. freedom of collaboration. the social commentary comes with them being fictional. you can write 2D protesting for denuclearization and he's protected by being fictional, who said it 2D or the writers? his writers of course, same with the whack shit murdoc would say or tacking on NOI stuff to russel without thought or research, that's the writers responsibility. lately when the writing focuses hard on drama & history that is completely fictional, social commentary is dropped. maybe murdoc being a cult figure was supposed to mean something other than marketing, and parody new age cults preying on vulnerable people or celeb worship. their setting of hollywood barely gets referenced. cornwell is fantastic but there's not enough to work with when the end goal is "please the fans". so that's why it's looping back to "murdoc is mean to 2D but they have a history" and then... not much else in terms of depth

to wrap up the negativity, i understand why they aren't as involved with the writing, either now or back then in varying degrees. jamie was famously overworked the back end of 2010s with song machine and to expect control over all written word is out of the question, plus they're more independently funded since 2019 so this means more creative control but also more responsibility. damon writes music and to make it fit with gorillaz lore was never his priority

like yes they should care more but. d&j never wrote for the social media shit back in facebook chat days and they sure as hell won't start now (and i hope they don't) this seperation makes it easier for me to look at the (!!high budget 3D animated!!) tiktoks and go "Damn. anyways i'm gonna go listen to Tarantula"

[eriexplosion]

♫ - Wrecker & Tech

☂ - Omega

± - TBB as a whole 👀

ϡ - Mass Effect character of your choice!

Yessss OKAY

♫ - a music/sound headcanon So I feel like these Wrecker and Tech have the most opposite music tastes known to man, literally the only two that will actively attempt to turn each other's music the fuck off if they have to listen to it (barring Hunter who can't stand most music over a certain, barely audible to most humans, volume)

Wrecker prefers music with LAYERS OF SOUNDS, extremely loud, extremely chaotic, and if Tech listens to them for too long he is pretty sure he will just Die. He prefers solo instrumentals where he can fully follow and absorb the intricacies of the piece without interruption or distraction. Wrecker thinks this is EXTREMELY boring.

Also Tech loops songs forever and ever listening to that one goddamn solo piece and then decides he has deciphered it and will never listen to it again. Wrecker has every piece of music that he's ever enjoyed in one giant playlist and every morning he just hits shuffle.

☂ - a weather headcanon Honestly, Omega has never gotten used to things like Weather that Changes. Being on Kamino meant it was raining like 90% of the time and the 10% of the time when it was sunny she was rarely outside to see it. So if they're landed somewhere, she kind of just assumes that's the way the weather is on this planet All of the time. Most of the time they're on and off a planet before they ever get to see the weather change.

But, Ord Mantell, they actually get to spend time on, and Omega now watches the weather CONSTANTLY to find out when it's going to change because she finds it deeply fascinating. Also I don't think she's seen snow yet, and it will blow her little baby brain when she does.

± - a death headcanon The batch's CT numbers go straight from CT-9901 to CT-9904 (in the order of Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair) and so a lot of other clones and even the batch themselves kind of assume that there were only four of them made for whatever reason, perhaps enhancing defective clones was too expensive, they didn't know. They were the first four made, but there were several more made after them where the kaminoans tried more extreme enhancements and every single one of those clones died in the tubes or in childhood. Some of them died in experiments that were later successfully performed on the batch, because they wanted to refine the technique before trying them on their actual successful ones. Which is saying something because the experiments they ran on the batch were horrific.

Omega though knows all of them because as Nala Se's medical assistant she had to help in most if not all of the autopsies to see what went Wrong. So that's something she should really talk about but, as we know, the batch has the emotional skills of fucking toddlers so she may be learning a lot more emotional repression than they realize. Mostly from fucking Hunter. God bless him.

ϡ - a childhood headcanon

Kind of a Garrus childhood headcanon mostly a turian culture headcanon, but because turians are such a military focused society, they start their military indoctrination SUPER young. So a lot of turian kids shows are military focused and will sometimes star fictionalized versions of real life generals.

Also one of these shows is absolutely called Spectres and stars a cartoon version of Saren which he Despises, but the funny part here is that on Garrus' end this is a bit like growing up and finding out that Mr. Rogers has committed high treason and then shooting him in the face.

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

1963 - 20 Greatest Hits 1986 Pop / R&B / Rock & Roll

Oh, hell yes, dude! A terrific batch of golden oldies here! Yesterday I gave a listen to an installment from this 20 Greatest Hits series that focused solely on the year of 1961, and I ended up being severely disappointed by all the shoddy re-recordings that were on it. But today, with this look back at 1963, we only have a small sprinkling of re-recordings. And while The Crystals' girl group classic, "Da Do Ron Ron," unfortunately falls victim to a pretty bad treatment here, it appears that the Deluxe label filled out the rest of this album with a majority of original versions instead 👍.

Interestingly, though, while there are some absolute classics on this album that you'd more or less expect, like The Isley Brothers' "Twist & Shout" and Doris Troy's "Just One Look," there are also some great unexpected curveballs too, with the most looping one of all probably being Del Shannon's "Keep Searchin'," a song that didn't even come out in '63, but instead was actually released in '64, and wasn't even that massive of a hit either, only managing to peak at #9 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart. This tune has a bit of a similar vibe to Del's most iconic hit, 1961's mesmerizing "Runaway," with its southwestern desert highway guitar sound, but rather than the show-stealing, invented keyboard instrument called the Musitron getting some solo action, on this tune we get some more conventional blasting organ instead, which is also pretty damn satisfying too 😌.

Another shocker on this release is The Rivingtons' "Papa Om Mow Mow." Undoubtedly, you're familiar with The Trashmen's totally inane piece of classic early 60s noisy gar(b)age rock, "Surfin' Bird," but did you know that that song was actually formed from two Rivingtons tunes? One of them was this strange and upbeat rock & roll-doo wop tune with a strong lead vocal that hoots some nice falsettos over another guy who just keeps on both mantrically and forcefully repeating the song's title. A super catchy and unique track that only made it to #48 on the Hot 100.

And lastly, most people obviously know The Kingsmen's "Louie Louie," the unbelievably sloppy 1963 classic that caught fire and really started the whole garage rock phenomenon while also inviting an investigation from the FBI for potentially subversive lyrics that were barely intelligible in the first place 😱. But do you know any other Kingsmen songs, like their totally groovy cover of Motown's first ever hit, "Money (That's What I Want)," that was originally by Barrett Strong? Because that one definitely goes too, and as their follow-up to "Louie Louie," it made it to #16 on the Hot 100, which was a good showing, of course, but like the other two tunes I've outlined above, you wouldn't expect that chart performances to merit it an inclusion on an album called 1963 - 20 Greatest Hits, given the long list of songs that managed to out-chart it.

But at the end of the day, that's really what makes this album so good. And the fact that not many songs on here are re-recordings, either, makes it infinitely better than the retrospective on 1961 that this series put out too.

Highlights:

Del Shannon - "Keep Searchin'" Isley Brothers - "Twist & Shout" Maxine Brown - "Oh, No, Not My Baby" Shirelles - "Don't Say Goodnight & Mean Goodbye" Rivingtons - "Papa Om Mow Mow" Kingsmen - "Money" Doris Troy - "Just One Look"

[canarydarity]

hi !!! :D ask game time! i have a couple, but you don't have to answer all of them!<3 🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc. 🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately? and for the sake of you wanting to talk about your writing and get excited about it: 👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please! (if you don't have one, ideas are cool too!!)

like i said, don't gotta answer all of 'em! only the ones you want toooo

hello!! :) you picked some of the best ones though,,

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

yes, always!! I always have music playing while I'm writing,,,and it will shock absolutely no one who's read my fics that if I'm writing team rancher there is an extremely good bet I'm listening to Strawberry Wine by Noah Kahan LOL that. song has been my top song on spotify. for like 4 months straight I am...very normal about it.

BUT other than that,,,I've also recently been looping Sea Legs by The Ballroom Thieves and Sailing by The Happy Fits when thinking about gtws, and Doomsday by Lizzie McAlpine when fic planning for a special project I will talk about answering the next question below...

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please! (if you don't have one, ideas are cool too!!)

thank you,,thank you for asking me this one I am GOING to take this opportunity to ramble while I can,,

For a few weeks, I've been working on an au that I've been calling "Sentinel Species" (though I'm unsure if that's remaining the name) and it focuses on a bit of a different interpretation of the canary curse.

The core of it stays the same: Jimmy dies first. As for the mechanics it does lean harder into the idea of this being completely out of his control. So, the end is nigh the warning must go out and Jimmy is led to whatever it is that causes his demise as per the corresponding season—but not on his own volition, free-will disregarded.

That is just the base, though, the major difference is as follows:

I've seen Jimmy referred to often enough as a harbinger of death, but in some places that phrase is used to refer to someone who not only ushers death and disaster as the canary curse already does, but who also possesses a heightened sense of death or impending death. His own deaths don't count because they're not natural, they're pre-planned, but for everyone else in this game? With so many people dying all the time and in such ways? Jimmy's sensitive to that.

I'll provide an example before I say more: Jimmy returns to his little exile house below magic mountain session 6 of last life to set a boogey trap, and say Scar comes down to ask why he's returned. They're talking, and Jimmy stops to say, "sorry, could you speak up? I'm having a hard time hearin' you." For some reason, he cannot stop hearing the sound of running water. Later that session, Scar drowns, sending him to his red life.

It could be instinctual, just a feeling, or a hallucination, even— anything, really. Imagine it's like a radio station that only Jimmy is tuned into; the downside is that—if we're sticking with the radio metaphor—theres a lot of feedback, some things are lost to static. It doesn't happen all the time, and sometimes it doesn't happen linearly. The sense is not meant to be helpful; it's never a warning, purely an awareness. It's often non-specific and more unsettling than anything else, but once he starts putting the pieces together it becomes hard to ignore. So the au (currently) follows Jimmy through the three completed seasons of the life series where he's not just the canary, but also a harbinger of death in this sense. As time progresses, he starts to get the hang of what he's feeling and experiencing and what it all means, and being Jimmy he's bound to feel like he has to do something about it—the problem is, well, who would ever believe him?

Rambling done, thank you to anyone who read all of that nonsense <33 those are the au wip thoughts!! If you've seen Teen Wolf, think Lydia Martin banshee-esque, as that is admittedly where I got the idea.

[parallelroutes]

Munday Meme

2, 6, 7, 12, 14, 16, 17 and 18

— 2. Who are your longest rp friends? in 2008 i joined bulbagarden (forum from the pokemon wiki bulbapedia) and met a guy who also rped and had similar irl interests. i joined an rp forum with that guy in 2010, was in and out until he left in 2014 and we kept in contact. didn't rp after that, but we are absolutely still friends to this day and send each other pokemon things, talk about current fandoms, etc. probably my 2nd oldest friend i keep up with in general, tbh.

— 6. NOTP for your muse? tyl!byakuran/anyone LOL. in all seriousness, i really can't wrap my head around byakuran/uni in any romantic/nsfw sense… like even besides the massive age/experience gap from before, i only see them as emotionally close in a platonic sense?

i still enjoy poly tsuna/uni/byakuran from the trinisette trio flavor, but that's also kind of conditional and if tsuna wasn't there i don't think i can see it. imo, just not a dynamic that would exist without tsuna there, if that makes sense.

in other news, shoichi/byakuran isn't a NOTP so much as i'm just really tired of him being the Only one i see people ship with byakuran. they're just so much more fun as best friends? platonic soulmates? partners in crime? balance each other out, etc.

hmm. maybe i just struggle shipping with characters that knew him really well in TYL. funeral wreaths are a struggle too. a current!genkishi would be super difficult to make work but i did have an idea a long while back. BUT WAIT. gamma or spanner 👀

— 7. What are some similarities between you and your muse/muses? i am super weird too. independent. we both have terrible diets. i will eat 3 muffins in one day instead of lunch/dinner if i have them in my room. most obviously, adhd.

— 12. What’s one random headcanon about your muse that people mightn’t know? (at the end/under the cut)

— 14. What do you look for in a rp partner? for longer plots/threads/verses? i love people who can generally match my enthusiasm or come up with ideas or has enough time to talk about it here and there. also love it when partners can take a bit of initiative in keeping it going too.

for just small threads? anyone who reaches out, really. i like almost everyone lmao, rping is included.

— 16. Least favourite trope? i don't know if it counts as a trope but i just don't really like seeing how many people only focus on him in a very dominant role in ships? it's just preference. there is nothing wrong with it and it makes sense for TYL byakuran anyway, but it's a least favorite for sure. (it's in part because it's the only way i ever see in fanart. i am Tired just thinking about it.)

— 17. Are there any AU’s you’d like to explore but haven’t had the chance to yet? i have a specific immortal!byakuran fantasy au that i want to use as a verse someday but not sure if i'll have the chance tbh. might have talked about it before?

the tl;dr is he became a pseudo-deity with six others but was kicked out of the makeshift-pantheon a long time ago. he was stuck with his immortality/power and was left to wander the world like that.

— 18. Do you listen to music whilst writing? If so, what kind of music? i can only listen to music while writing if i loop one song and know exactly how it goes. usually it just ends up being either a song for the atmosphere or a song i'm currently addicted to. picking music gets distracting tbh.

moved 12 since it mentions nsfw. it's under the cut.

— 12. What’s one random headcanon about your muse that people mightn’t know? on account of not doing nsfw, i don't really mention it lol. i do have gray-asexual on there for this interpretation, but the ace part is really apparent. there is that he had more than enough abuse of that variety. now he just doesn't care, doesn't see a point, nonexistent drive. if i did any nsfw it would be focused on the partner bc i'm sure he'd remember how to Do Things like that from all those different lives.

the gray part is that i think he would try if thats what a partner wanted? i think he'd be okay if he trusts/loves someone enough (demiromantic) but probably not often.

would also like to mention you don't see me doing any nsfw on this blog because he is only 15 and 18 in the two main verses. that speaks for itself, i hope? i guess post-canon 10YL or college-age verse or something might work, but still not on tumblr.

[gerogerigaogaigar]

Madonna - Like A Prayer

After establishing a persona of material excess and precision vapidity Madonna just went ahead and released an emotionally honest personal album. The fact that it not only works but ranks as one of her best albums is a testament to her skills as a performer and songwriter. Funky danceable tracks and slower tender ones mingle side by side without ever resulting in mood whiplash. I think that all of Madonna's 80s output has significant merit, but Like A Prayer is my favorite.

The Rolling Stones - Aftermath

Rolling Stone wants me to listen to the US version of this album. The US version replaces Mother's Little Helper with Paint It Black and cuts several tracks to bring the album's length down. I will not play along. I'm gonna review the UK edition. So anyway this album really hates women. It starts Mother's Little Helper, which berates housewives for having pill addictions and then goes into Stupid Girl, a song that just hates women for existing. Under My Thumb is about dominating a woman until she lacks any autonomy. Just wretched stuff I really love it. Why'd they write these? They're so unnecessarily mean. The Stones were experimenting with some psychedelic sounds in the first half but from Goin' Home onward they really just default back to being a wannabe American blues rock band. Btw I'm being harsh because you probably already know if you really love or really hate this kind of music, but for the record I love it. The mysogyny is so comically extreme that it genuinely makes me laugh. Stupid Girl could be an incel anthem. It should be.

DJ Shadow - Endtroducing.....

This album transcends everything. It exists out of time out of genre. Endtroducing..... stands alone as a human achievement that is only paralleled by the sublime geometry of Islamic art, the elaborate architecture of gothic cathedrals, the surreal beauty of German expressionist film. In case you can't tell already, I'm not gonna be normal about this one. The album comes from the hip hop and turntablist scene of the 90s with the ethos of plunderphonics and an atmosphere that draws equally from funk, soul, and R&B as it does from ambient, tape music and drum & bass. It doesn't sound like anything else I've ever heard. Hypnotic bass grooves will transition into frenetic drum loops and back before picking up a melodic element from three tracks ago and turning it into a new drum solo or bass groove. It moves so smoothly and with such deliberation. Every sound is irreplaceable. I don't have a singular favorite record, but this one has a particular Enigma Of Amigara Fault effect on me. Like this is my album, it was made for me.

Vampire Weekend - Modern Vampires Of The City

I don't mind Vampire Weekend, but they are little more than a generic indie rock band with futile aspirations towards art rock and baroque pop. Many of the songs keep up enough energy to not leave me totally bored, but they never really capture my interest. I'd be much happier if Ezra Koenig focused his efforts where they belong, convincing Netflix to give him another season of Neo Yokio.

The Who - Live At Leeds

There are at least four versions of this album out there. The original only contained six songs out of the 30ish played during the concert and the version I have is the 95 cd release that contains 14 tracks. The expanded version has some tracks from Tommy and a real nice version of B-side Heaven And Hell, but I will focus on the six original tracks, Young Man Blues, Substitute, Summertime Blues, Shakin' All Over, My Generation, and Magic Bus. I love the choice of tracks. Three covers and three older singles. Nothing from their recent album Tommy. And all the songs are performed so much rougher and heavier than their album counterparts. My Generation goes on for 15 minutes and includes interpolations of songs from Tommy and extended guitar solos. It ends on a seven minute version of the objectively lame Magic Bus and they make it kick ass. The who gives a shit energy of this concert is apparent and the fact they released this at all is great, it's one of the best live albums because it actually sounds like a live show.

Prince - Dirty Mind

Prince was so fucking good. This is the horniest album. Every song is about sex, even his breakup songs are really fucking horny. And what the fuck is up with Sister? What maniac would write that? What a legend. This is such a funky danceable album, but it's over so fast. You can basically listen to this and his debut back to back and that would equal a full length album. Unfortunately we don't get to see much of guitar god Prince on this one, but every prince album from the 80s is good so who cares?

Jerry Lee Lewis - All Killer No Filler

Oh fuck off. Jerry Lee Lewis couldn't maintain a rock career after he married his thirteen year old cousin so he became a mediocre country musician because that was the only crowd that would have him. So why the fuck would I want a compilation? He has like three good songs and then most of his career sucks ass. Here's an alternative. An album that definitely isn't on this list but should be. Mustt Mustt by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. Ali Khan was an amazing vocalist who sang Qawwali, which is Sufi devotional music, and Mustt Mustt was his first attempt to develop a Qawwali fusion style. This album is an amazing combination of traditional Qawwali and alternative rock styles. Don't listen to Jerry Lee Lewis, listen to Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan!

Coldplay - A Rush Of Blood To The Head

Coldplay are not Radiohead. This is so sad because they really want to be Radiohead. If you like this album then I'm sorry. But also you should listen to OK Computer by Radiohead because that is what they were trying to make here.

[sky-squido]

😈 🎶 🎃 ? :D

ooooooh more good questions!!

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

isn't this,,,, isn't this like half of my fics?

no, i'm kidding. in all seriousness, in my earlier fics, i was thinking about reader reaction a lot more than i do in my newer ones. i mean, While You Still Can was one big funtimes feels-fest for my readers. i was live-writing it on the Discord, a lot of what happened was driven by shock value and knife twisting and generating those screams from the audience, and i had very little planned, going in. the earlier chapters of To Isolate and What Hyrule Hadn't Seen are likewise playgrounds of foreshadowing, dread curation, and dramatic irony. as time went on, though, i became less concerned with how my readers would react and more focused on what the story i wanted to tell was. i only ever altered my stories in response to comments by making subtle course corrections to make sure my points were coming across as intended, like how in the opening chapters of Hey Four, Wanna Kill A Dragon With Me? people were shockingly vehement about how unfair twilight was being to wind and four and so i altered a bunch of the upcoming scenes to be more nuanced because my readers didn't need me to convince them to be mad at twilight at all. The Price of Adventure is actually kind of the opposite of this, as the whole initial premise was "what if we foreshadowed so much Koholint Angst™ and it was just. never a problem. like he's on an island with seagulls and he's literally just FINE the entire time." that was an intentional move to subvert expectations, but in a good way, not a "mean" one.

so yeah, to answer your question, the entirety of While You Still Can is me bullying my readers by intentionally drop-kicking their emotions for five straight chapters.

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

YES ALWAYS i CANNOT write unless i'm listening to music and each scene needs to have the right soundtrack or i just cannot write it i do not make the rules.

i briefly covered my favorite writing soundtracks in this ask meme from ages ago, but i've expanded my music repertoire somewhat, so let's go!

During heartfelt, emotional, cozy campfire heart-to-hearts i used to always listen to Madeline and Theo from Celeste, but now I listen to the Life is Strange Soundtrack because it's that same vibe but More Of It and I just really really like it.

I also have—hmm, this is tricky because it's an itunes playlist because i bought the ost to xenoblade 2 and just listen to it there, but the playlist is called "mmm" and i would listen to it when i was feeling calm and contemplative and a little lonely back in high school and it's really really great for writing scenes that have that sort of vibe to them.

This is literally just my screenshot of the tracks in the playlist. It's really really great for hurt-comfort and moments when someone's just,,, quiet, contemplative, and a bit lonely. There is a bit of Vibe Drift across the playlist, which i usually like because it means i can just skip forward and back through songs to most closely approximate the exact vibe of the moment. Lining up that huge emotional swell in Walking with You with an emotional line is just SO MUCH FUN and really gets me into The Zone™ for a given scene.

I've also been increasingly making playlists for given fics because while I can't write to songs with words (and am scared of people that can), I will daydream excessively and mentally animatic out my fics when listening to certain songs, so i have playlists for To Isolate (MASSIVE SPOILER WARNING), Price of Adventure, and this is just my Fun Times Adventure Playlist so it's not specifically about Hey Four, but it captures the vibes enough that I say it counts.

As for battles/fight scenes, Eclipse of the Moon and End of All (Below) are my fallbacks and they never do me dirty, they are just too good and even after hours and hours and hours of listening to them, I still love them so so so much.

There's absolutely more, but I'll just leave it at that for now XD This reminds me, actually, I should revamp my writing playlist,,, hmm,,,,,

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?

kind of! I used to update my fics on my friends' birthdays if i knew they followed it, but ever since life started back up again and i had actual responsibilities and stuff to attend to, that kind of spur-of-the-moment what-if-i-just-put-my-life-on-hold-and-binge-wrote-for-three-days-to-get-this-chapter-out-by-friday freedom has not been afforded to me :,(

i do, however, have an annually updating new years' fic i always add one chapter to on either Dec 31st or Jan 1st called Hope for the Future which started out as a love letter to the fandom, morphed into a bit of a meditation on what new years' means to me, and i've been musing a bit on what this year's chapter is going to look like—it'll be interesting, to be sure! I'm honestly really curious to see how long I keep it up for.

anyway, thank you so much for the ask, and i hope you have a lovely lovely rest of your week!! drink some water and always remember to be kind to yourself <3

[tiredassmage]

Oooh 27-30 for the AO3 wrapped if I can be greedy :3

Haha, of course! It seems only fitting, for how much I ramble in your answers anyway. xD

27. What do you listen to while writing?

Sometimes nothing because music can be just as inspiring as distracting. In the reverse though, I tend to write moments or scenes; I seem to have abandoned the planning and patience required for multi-chaptered works when I was younger and had less responsibility, lol. And also before I went through several years of forum-based rping and became very used to collaborative character development and short works.

I otherwise also have a habit of just looping one song for the entirety of a writing period. Ironically, I worked on this Ziost piece for Savosta and Rhystyl with a combination of Disturbia by Rhianna and Pump It by the Black Eyed Peas absolutely stuck in my head. NEITHER of which match the vibes of Ziost or that piece AT ALL, but I could NOT purge those songs and eventually I just caved. And also the doc in my GoogleDocs is literally titled "disturbia looping in my head" because this one was a gut-punch to write and a meme-y title was my coping mechanism, lmao.

My 3 most defined SWTOR characters (Tyr, of course; Savosta, my Chiss SW; and Lensan, my BH) also all have their own playlists, which is another thing I haven't successfully done in EONS, so I will sometimes shuffle their whole playlists while writing for them, or loop specific songs relevant to whatever piece I'm writing. (They also usually accompany me to work or campus because blorbo thoughts are always the answer.)

OH. ALSO. My obsession I need to beam into everyone’s head is the last like 24 hours of my life I have been CONSUMED by The Unforgiven by Metallica as an agent song. I am rotating Tyr so intently in my head. Will I manage to do anything about it? Stay tuned!

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

inflection point was my first foray into writing and publishing for SWTOR and it remains really close to my heart for... reasons I'm pretty certain I've already mentioned for it earlier in the year, but a quick recap: I do really enjoy how I established Tyr in this one. Most of his minor mannerisms that have become essential to my picture of him made it into this fic and I think this is maybe one of my best representations of his relationship with Theron in one piece. They banter here, but they also are bone-cuttingly honest with one another - something I think is still way more difficult for Tyr than he even realizes. I apparently still can't write in chronological order ever because it's the first piece I published and it's the most recent as far as chronological story events are concerned, but, hey, I wrote it semi-shortly after actually finishing all the story content with him, so... that's my defense, lol.

take me gets an honorable mention as the other one near and dear to my heart as another one of those wrenchingly honest and intimate moments they share. I really like the unscripted aspect of both this one and inflection point. A lot of my other works have been focused around certain game moments and it sometimes feels like a bit of a cheap slip to work that way, but I end up writing them anyway because it's what my characters saw in that moment, even if it's mostly familiar to reference in game - and they're often really important distinguishments to keep track of in my head, at least, and writing them out in full just hits way harder than adding another bullet point to the Lore Doc. xD

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Okay, I'm gonna be greedy and give you a few, I think. I'll put a cut here for them.

“Do you regret it, Tyr..?” he asked quietly.

The Commander and ex-Cipher was silent for another long moment. “No.” Tyr rolled his jaw before he finally looked back at his lover. “May I speak frankly with you, Major..?”

He’d lowered his voice, reverted once more to the comforting distance of professionalism afforded by their titles. It’d helped Quinn find his footing in the Alliance - something grounding and familiar and unchanging, unlike so much else in the last several years.

“Always, Commander.”

Tyr watched him a second longer, as if to consider whether or not he was truly prepared - or willing - to step off the ledge. “I’d burn the Empire down to the foundations, Quinn. All of it. Not for the Alliance, not for the Republic… Just… me.” He closed his eyes and released a breath measured and slow - not quite a sigh so much as… acceptance. Resignation, maybe.

Okay, so it's primarily the bold section that keeps me up at night, BUT. Uhhh, brief context, this is from a WIP that I... may or may not finish, I have two versions of this actually - one is this one, where I was exploring the idea of Tyr x Theron x Malavai that is... theoretically established after Iokath. In my head. I have barely written anything tangible about it, but I thought about it for like 3 months at one point before I finally got fed up enough with myself to write when the sirens call our names just to justify Tyr recruiting Quinn to the Alliance when he sided with the Republic on Iokath. Because it was one instance where "you should provide context" won out over the gremlin urge to write 3 pretty boys with complex loyalty issues kissing each other about it.

The other version I set him against Vector as his long-time confidant, but I have already derailed SO far, so, ANYWAY.

The reason this one hits me so hard is because Tyr carries this burn inside of him for years before he can do anything tangible about it. The constant mask of survival suffocates this from really bubbling up prior to the threat of the Eternal Empire. He doesn't see a tangible way out of the Empire when he is still Legate and the half-homeless Cipher Nine following the disbandment of Imperial Intelligence. He's drifting. He hates where he is, but he doesn't run. Where would he even go? What would he do?

I've developed bones to pick with myself for leaving him in command of something like the Alliance because it is against his every instinct to be that known, but it is where the game has him currently and it is the foundation upon which he found the personal agency to really let his dissent flourish and I can't really take that from him. To finally have the power to strike back against the people and the entity that spent years rigging him up like a marionette... He wants that, even though he knows - sort of subconsciously - that it's a path of self-destruction. It's my latest obsession with him, tbh. In between research assignments last week, the idea that he doesn't know how self-destructive he really is, but has these kind of ideas running silently through his head anyway hit me like a semi-truck and hasn't let me rest since.

“But you must see… Whatever resistance we hope to achieve, whatever war we hurtle towards… The galaxy needs you, Rhyst. This ship, this alliance are merely tools, but you were my example. My beacon.”

...

“If you cannot forgive me, I will understand,” he said. “But this war - Zakuul, Arcann, the Throne… Whatever lies Valkorian tries to weave for us, you must see it all for the mere crucible that it is! Promise me, Rhystyl! If you will allow me at your side to guard against his influence, I will not leave you. This, I swear to you on my life.”

Also this. Bc ngl, I started writing this whole thing specifically for this line. For this moment. (And also the crucible line came to me one night right before bed as I was playing the mental blorbo movies, as you do, and I just. I Needed It to happen.) Aafafuughghghghghg, this is the peak of the transformation from Savosta being distanced with Rhystyl and with everyone else - his transformation from the weapon he was made into as Baras's apprentice and Emperor's Wrath to actively fighting for himself and what he believes in. When I write one, the other is usually involved, and Rhystyl is sort of positioned to be the "main character" as far as the hero of the galaxy-centric thought might be, but I think what it really is, to me at least, is a series of how Savosta sees him. Ideally, I'll one day have a whole fic series chronicling their journey from tepid allies on Ilum to co-Commanders of the Alliance, but it'll still take me a boatload of time to write that much. So, it's really about Savosta, for me. I started him out to have a really DS Sith (and maybe for the DS 5 chievo, okay, I don't usually play such hardcore dark siders), but then... I got really attached. >.> And I decided I loved him and I was rooting for him to get better and actually break his chains.

He sees someone like Rhystyl - a hero of his people - struggle and still get back up on his feet. Rhyst doesn't always have the answers and, despite their initial misgivings with one another, Rhyst doesn't turn away his partnership, either. He largely accepts that Savosta operates differently, that there's a struggle they share that Savosta isn't ready to confront in himself until several years into the conflict. Rhyst is a mirror, in a way, that Savosta uses to reflect on the differences in their choices and their relationships. Rhyst leans on his connections to bolster his strength where Savosta has always felt incredibly isolated and mistrustful, even with his own crew. He never had that kind of trust with anyone. Rhystyl is really the first person that meets him where he is - and Savosta doesn't think he realizes it. This is the moment he decides he needs to know it. This is the moment he is determined to be there for the man that has unwittingly showed him how he can be better, how he can help himself. He needs to show the same support he feels he's gotten from Rhystyl. And this is the moment they really become inseparable friends.

I'm a little low-key obsessed with a Sith character having the crashing, brutal realization that their power struggles are not, in fact, breaking free of chains, as their code posits, but trading one master for another in an endless struggle for power to oppress the losers, alright?

30. Biggest surprise writing this year?

Honestly? Just having as much fun as I have. Writing as much as I have. Tyr is my absolute blorbo wrapped (I think that's... obvious, lol) and it's honestly just been incredible to be this into an OC again. It feels like it's been too long since I've been so in love and engaged in the development of one of my characters.

I have absolutely enjoyed other OCs I've had in recent years, but I was kinda going off to a friend the other night trying to explain just why SWTOR scratches my itch about story-based gameplay and I boiled it down there to being able to reflect so many of my perceptions about my character in-game. My semi-recent within the last maybe two or three years love for BioWare titles - beginning with Dragon Age: Inquisition, then Mass Effect, and, ofc, now we're on SWTOR - was absolutely in part because of the depth of character interaction. Given a character creator and an engaging dialogue system that affected my relationships with the pixel npc blorbos and I was absolutely hooked.

I really can't explain why he's my obsession that's held on for this long. He's my poor little Rubix Cube, I want to snap him like a glowstick and shake him up and also show him to all my friends. There's also just a charm to SWTOR about being able to explore the aspects of the SW universe that the movies don't focus on - which is how I think I've, ironically, fallen far harder for my Impside characters... against all my expectations and plans. But there's just SO MUCH to explore in them and their complex relationships with their loyalties - often shifting over time, that I just. It ENGAGES ME VERY MUCH. And I love them a lot. Kissing them all on the forehead. Even Len, that absolute jackass.

Anyway, tangent survived successfully if you've made it this far, lol. It's tldr been just. a LOT of fun. I missed it. And it's been liberating to just... actually post it. I'd struggled quite a bit to write and definitely post things within the last several years, even for things I really loved, so to just give myself over to the joy of the process and the indulgence of creating for my own little blorbo has been extremely liberating and enjoyable.