#candles gets wonky

[quintessential-candles]

Upset over my special interests again :/

[victorluvsalice]

Welcome to Summer Friday in the Chill Valicer Save! Where, as stated in the final post of the last update, we have the gang sending off summer with a party that has always given me trouble for some reason. Let's dive right into it --

-->I started with the gang bumming around the house, as they do late at night – Smiler and Victor in the barn by Victor's cauldron, and Alice upstairs sitting at Smiler’s computer (she HAD been working on her next book, but the interaction had canceled out when I loaded back in). Deciding to start off right with some sweetness, I had Smiler give Victor a nice shoulder rub to help work out the kinks from all his potion experimenting, while Alice got to pet Shadow before being sent out to have some zoomies to lower her burgeoning Fury. Though, of course, the minute she got outside, it started raining. *shakehead* Sorry, Alice! She did have her umbrella, though, and she seemed to enjoy her jog even despite the miserable weather. :)

-->As she was leaving, though, I spotted two things on the front porch – a visiting Lilith Vatore, and a VERY angry red specter! As I’d put Smiler on “making computer chips” duty again (gotta save up for that Servo!), I had Victor go and take care of both after emptying his cauldron of his experimental liquid. First, he gave the specter a potion of good fortune to calm it down – fortunately, the angry little blob was very happy with its gift and gave him a Specter Sip in return before vanishing. He then said hi to Lilith and got to know her a little bit (apparently she’s fond of the color brown) – I was planning on having him invite her in so Smiler could chat with her once they were done making their computer chip, but right after the “what’s your favorite color?” question, Lilith decided she was done hanging out and super-speeded away. XD Well, okay then! I didn’t really want to deal with visitors right now anyway. :p

-->With Lilith gone, I put Victor back on experimenting with potions (he had to learn a few more recipes for his Potion Purveyor aspiration), and had Smiler tune up both the gardening bots (I was GOING to have them make a cybernetic arm, but first they didn’t have enough salvage parts, and then I realized “wait, that will waste items I want for the Servo, never mind”). Alice arrived back from her zoomies as this was going on with much lower Fury, but I figured dropping it even further wouldn’t be a bad idea and sent her upstairs to meditate (with her arm glitched in the “permanently holding an umbrella” animation, annoyingly – I had to reset her later to get it to unkink). After all, the main thing I wanted to do in this playsession was to have Smiler throw a party to celebrate the end of summer! Once she was settled, I thus had them open the calendar and look at the parties available –

And while I was tempted by the kegger, I realized that the better, more seasonally-appropriate option would be to have Smiler retry The Dreaded Weenie Roast. They've done one of these before at the house, but only managed to get Silver because they weren't able to complete the main objective of roasting weenies (because, at that time, I didn't know the stupid campfire doesn’t work correctly on a lot with the “Simple Living” lot trait). Having increased my general store of knowledge, though, I now knew they could get a Gold rank if I just had the party off-lot. So I had them invite their friends Cletus, Aleah, Sara Scott, and Knox Greenburg, designate Victor as their “grill master,” and set up the shingdig to start at Totter Park in Copperdale at 5 PM. :) With that settled, I set about having them finish off their bot tune-ups –

-->Only for the house to start making spooky noises again and knock everyone out of their assigned activities. I was a bit annoyed at first –

But then I realized I had an OPPORTUNITY here. I immediately had Victor and Smiler use their teleports to get up to the séance room (Alice was already in there, as that’s where her mediation stool is), then had them and Alice light all the sacred candles I’d set up around the séance table while I extinguished the lights in the room. With everything in place, I had them all sit around the table –

And cue Victor leading a BOSS-looking group ceremony to increase the house’s spiritual serenity in the light of the sacred candles, the soul scraps on the side table, and the moon salt lamp on the bizarre idol shelf. :D It was really freaking cool –

So cool, in fact, that I ended up taking some video of it. I mean, I just couldn’t resist – and besides, it’s hard to properly capture the flickering house lights effect in a screenshot. Unfortunately, when I uploaded it to YouTube, it ended up being rather blurry (top quality is apparently 360p – what I get for using the in-game video capture tool!), but if you still want to watch it, you can do so here: A Valicer Seance. As per the previous, there is a bit of flickering from the house lights, but I don’t think it’s enough to cause anyone any problems. Especially with how blurry the damn video is. Enjoy what you can!

[badjokesbyjeff]

I never told my wife I had an ex-fiancee 

One thing I never told my wife is that I had a fiancee before her. It’s a long story, so buckle up.

It was the year after I graduated college. I was dating my girlfriend, Stephanie, for a couple years and things were getting serious. At the time, I had my roommate, Joey, but he was a Craigslist roommate. We didn’t know each other very well. If you asked me how I knew him aside from Craigslist, the answer is I didn’t. He wouldn’t even tell me where he grew up.

Now, no shit, on the day I was going to propose, tragedy struck. I adorned our apartment with candles and even set up a nice glass display with framed pictures of me and Steph on top. Before Steph came in, Joey walked in and tripped. He actually shattered the glass display and got some in his face. Steph came in a few minutes later as I was on the phone with 911. Fortunately, Steph is a nurse, so she was able to patch him up as the three of us went to the hospital together.

Joey would recover, but he had some issues with glass on his face. He needed some cotton gauze inside his eye, which fortunately the doctors were able to save.

Clearly, I put off my proposal for the time being, but Steph and I agreed to get married. Our engagement was hush hush. Steph’s hours were wonky so she took care of Joey when I wasn’t around. And I should’ve seen the red flags, but I ignored them. They’d hang out together with and without me. They’d be in Joey’s room and lock the door.

One day, I came home and all of Joey’s stuff was gone. He moved out. Steph wrote a note. The note said, “We fell in love and we’re leaving together. Don’t try to find us.”

I didn’t listen and I searched, but true to the note, I couldn’t find them. I’ll never know what happened.

Suffice to say,

if it hadn’t been for Cotton-Eye Joe

I’d have been married a long time ago.

Where did you come from, where did you go?

Where did you come from, Cotton-Eye Joe?

[queers-gambit]

Shower Shenanigans

part one: Perpetual L's and Overwhelming Dubs

prompt: midnight callers turn your quiet night upside down, but at least it ends with you riding your stranger in the shower.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.7k+

note: nobody asked for this but he's my muse now

warnings: cursing, smut (unprotected, in the shower, she's on top), blood, wounds, brain rot, author isn't British, probably setting up for part three, wonky brain doesn't care what warnings are missed.

A storm had rolled over Osaka, a steady thrumming at your hotel window creating a calming ambiance as you lit a couple of the candles you ordered from the front desk. Curled up on the tiny loveseat offered in the small living space, you flipped through your latest novel you grabbed before running into Tangerine at the train station. Speaking of, you glared at your phone for the hundredth time in an hour, feeling a sort of overwhelming dread that he hadn't called yet - or at the very least, texted.

Was it silly? Oh, you KNOW it was.

But he had said some really pretty things that rang in your ears on a haunting repeat the rest of the train ride. Then the whole taxi ride through Osaka, and the three days it's been since meeting him - he just wouldn't leave your conscious. Every meeting you had was vaguely interrupted by some sort of thought about your mysterious stranger, driving you up the wall.

Sure, you could call him, but the idea of calling a stranger for no reason other than to hear his voice felt a little too vulnerable to you. Yo could ask where he was, if he wanted to come for a visit - or hell, even before you departed Japan back for London, England, you could come see him... If he so wanted.

But your mind refused to let you dial his number, which was left in your recents after he had texted himself in the bathroom. The memory of your ex was still so fresh, making you feel silly for having such vivid, intense fantasies about a man you've met once. And for the love of Christ, you didn't even know his real name! Just his silly, fruity codename!

Man, if you hadn't been embarrassed before, the memory of moaning a fucking fruit surely made you cringe to the point you wanted the Earth to open up, swallow you whole, and never spit you out.

Your trip was soon to end with your departing flight tomorrow night, giving you just a day of leisure time in the city - but you didn't feel like doing much since the storm. Your book was interesting enough, keeping you entertained with a cart of hot food from room service within arms reach. Your tea was lukewarm by now, being much easier to drink, bowl of air-popped popcorn sat in your lap. Over the sounds of thunder, there was a knock at your door.

More like a banging, but hey, logistics. This was odd considering it was close to nine in the evening and you hadn't called for anything.

With a sigh, you marked your page and stood; annoyed by the continuous knocking, oversized tee shirt falling back over your thighs, socked feet stuffing into your slippers before traveling to the door. You called in Japanese, "Who is it?"

There was a small scraping, making your brows furrow and call your question again - but with much more urgency. "'S me, love, open the door, please," a raspy, British accent croaked seemingly through the crack. You left the chain lock in place, slowly opening the door a fraction to discover Tangerine - bloodied to high hell - leaning on the doorframe of your hotel room with two other bloody men behind him.

"What the fuck? Jesus Christ," you hissed, shutting the door, snapping the chain off and yanking it open once more. "Get in here, are you okay?" You asked, gasping right after when Tangerine stumbled a little, making you catch him; assualting your sinuses with the smell of citrus, metallic blood, and cigarette smoke. "All right, all right, you're safe now, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon," you muttered, helping him over your shoulders and into your decently spacious hotel room. "C'mon, you two! Step lively before you trigger hotel security!"

You shuffled your stranger into the room and deposited him on the sofa; hearing his grunt of exaggerated pain. You looked at the others, sighing as you moved things out of the way, inviting the other two men to sit around the furniture. You tried not to worry about the cleaning bill you would surely get for all their blood.

"Jesus Christ, did you get shot?" You asked, seeing the fleshy wound in his shoulder that was very poorly staunched.

"That arsehole did it," he panted, pointing at the blonde stranger.

"Hi," the arsehole waved, "it was an accident, for whatever it's worth. I, uh... I have bad luck, don't really like guns," he shrugged meekly.

"You lot look like hell," you sighed, shaking your head and standing to your feet to take a few steps away. You asked over your shoulder, "Guess I shouldn't bother asking what happened?"

"Train wreck," the man Tangerine had been with earlier answered.

You blinked in shock, the men all wincing as they were seemingly finally able to relax. Only now, you noted they were all in the same clothes as days ago, just tattered, torn, burnt and singed, soaking wet from the storm, stained with blood. You looked at Tangerine, demanding, "Is that why you told me to get off the train? You were gonna crash it!?"

"No, no, darlin', that wasn't the plan," Tangerine coughed, head tilted back. "Just... Happened."

"Call it his bad luck, huh?" You shook your head and moved for the hotel's phone, dialing the front desk and waiting. When they answered, the cheery front desk girl asked how she could help and you asked her what first aid supplies the hotel kept stocked. She answered and you asked if you'd be able to get enough for three kits - claiming you were practicing for a medical school final. She was more than happy to oblige, telling you her brother did much of the same, and she'd send the kits right up.

Thanking her, you hung up, and turned back for room. You found a pair of shorts and hopped into them for modesty, using your ice bucket to fill with water, grabbing whatever hand towels and washcloths you could. You set the bucket to the coffee table, dipping the cloths in for the two strangers, asking, "You guys wanna clean up a bit?"

"Please," the blonde wheezed.

You nodded, handing over the wet towels and moved the bucket a little closer for them to reach. You introduced yourself to them, offering a smile, turning for Tangerine and taking a seat beside him to start cleaning him up. "Lemon," your companion's counterpart introduced.

"Ladybug."

"More fucking codenames," you mumbled, shaking your head, trying to mop up Tangerine's forehead. "Jesus, fuck, sweetheart, what did you do? Bash your head through a glass wall?"

"Window, actually," he mumbled, reaching up to caress your wrist and cracking his eyes open. "Thank you, darlin'."

"Hush," you smiled, wiping the blood from his mouth. "You guys are gonna need showers and new clothes, huh?" You looked at the other two, who were scattered around the room to use whatever reflective surface they could find.

"That'd be nice," Ladybug nodded. "Anyone any cash?"

You sighed, "I've got you guys, 's all right."

As you reached for the bucket of warm water again to rinse the washcloth and wring it out, you missed the looks Lemon and Tangerine exchanged; both mildly impressed with your generosity and kindness. Certainly, someone who would never get tangled up in the lot of them on regular circumstances.

The knock at your door made the entire room still, you sparing them a skeptical look and reprimanding as you stood, "Relax, it's just the supplies."

Still, Lemon and Ladybug made sure they were out of sight as Tangerine just couldn't move once deposited on the sofa. You greeted the service worker, strategic in how wide you opened the door, and accepted the supplies; thanking the man, closing the door, and depositing the materials on your still-made bed.

However, a new thought occurred and you picked up the phone once more. When it connected to the front desk, you asked if your conjoining room was vacant - and to your shock, it was. You asked if they would add the room to yours because your friend suddenly decided to join you (not a total lie), and some 20 minutes later, you were giving Ladybug and Lemon their own room keys. You propped the conjoining door open, the two men using the first aid kits and the other room's shower as you got Tangerine to a point you didn't think he would bleed out.

"Okay, sweetheart," you caressed his jaw, "I'm gonna pop over to the shops across the street, okay? Grab you guys some necessities."

"You don't have to, we shouldn't burden you like this," he whispered.

"You guys can't walk around in these clothes," you chuckled.

"Have been."

"Yeah, on the side of the road, huh?"

"Back of a tangerine truck for a bit, too," he chuckled.

"Well, that's fitting. Look, just," you sighed, leaning in to peck his lips softly, "stay here, rest, eat, I'll be right back. Get a shower if you feel able, yeah?"

He nodded, just looking you over for a moment. "I'm sorry," he whispered, shaking his head, "I didn't know where else t'go. Whole plan went t'shit, we were out of options, love, just... Didn't know where t'turn ta."

"How'd you even find me?"

He shrugged, "I have my ways."

"Well, that's doesn't vaguely make you sound like a stalker." Another peck to his amused smile. "I'll be right back, promise," you stood, found a pair of sweats, a hoodie, and changed your shoes before heading out the door.

Was it stupid to leave three strangers alone in your hotel room? For sure. But you still went, you were a caring person by nature and the idea of making them fend for themselves felt wrong.

Especially after the state they showed up in, Tangerine's soft words about not knowing where to go; you just wanted to help since you had the ability to.

Across the street, splashing through puddles, you zipped around what was available and gathered three sets of sweatpants, shirts, jackets or hoodies, and figured their shoes were fine for now until they could change them later. You grabbed a few snacks and bottles of water, sports drinks, and energy drinks, paid, and made it back to your hotel room.

"Oh, blessings, you sweet girl!" Lemon gasped when you presented the change of clothes and snacks. "Oh, fuck yeah," he whispered to himself, taking the gift and going to change as you tossed Ladybug his own set.

When you found Tangerine, he was in the same place - but at least he didn't look worse. Just exhausted.

"Hey," you cooed, caressing his head and watching his eyes crack open.

"You're back," he smiled.

"Mhm," you hummed, "and you need a shower. C'mon, then you can get in bed, get some rest."

"Nah, love," he groaned when you took his wrists, "let's jus' go t'bed."

"Tan, you're absolutely disgusting right now, you'll feel better under the water. C'mon, there's a shower seat, you don't have to do anything, I'll help you."

He winced when you helped him on his feet, hobbling into the bathroom as Ladybug and Lemon were chowing down on whatever they could get their hands on. In the bathroom, you shut the door, set a clean towel on the counter, and turned to see him leaning on a wall, just watching you. You offered a soft smile, starting the shower to hea up, and then approaching him.

"Easy," you whispered, helping him unlatch his belt, step from his shoes, and then shed his trousers. His waistcoat followed, then his button-up, you gasping lightly, "Oh, fuck! Oh, my God. Yeah," you gently pet his side, prodding the dark wound, "you've got some broken ribs, sweetheart. Fuck's sake."

"That arsehole did that, too," he mused.

"Seriously? Damn, how'd you get your arse handed to yah by a lad named Ladybug?" You joked, dropping his boxers and pulling him from the wall. You made sure he was on the shower seat before stepping back and stripping yourself, joining him in the heat and getting to your knees.

With another washcloth, you gently suds over his body, the soap helping sweep away from grime. He let you work, scrubbing his feet, then working up his legs, rinsing, reapplying the soap, and continuing on your way. You washed his thighs and up his hips, to his waist, ignoring the way his cock stirred to life, bobbing into your elbow as it swelled. You were gentle over his bruises, the water feeling nice over your tired bodies; the soft scents of the soap soothing.

When you straightened up to wash his chest, you missed the way his eyes scanned over your soaking wet form. Feeling your hands on his collarbones, he reached down to seize your hips and heave - making you yelp. "The hell are you doing?" You gasped, needing to stabilize yourself on the wall and his non-shot shoulder.

"'S been three days too long, just wanted yah close," he whispered, sighing as his hands smoothed down your hips; gripping the flesh until indentations appeared.

You tisked, "You're hurt, you don't need t'fuckin' lift me. Use your words next time, won't you?"

He chuckled, "And what? Risk you sayin' no 'cause you don't wanna hurt me? Nah, love," he sighed. "Just wanted yah close, t'feel yah."

You hummed, "Close your eyes."

"Hmm?"

You held up the shampoo bottle, squirting a generous amount into your hand before starting to lather it into his scalp. He groaned, hissed at a few intervals, but overall let you work your fingers through his curls; pulling out any knots, shards of glass, and loosening the dried blood.

"You all right?" You checked, lifted on your knees to work; breasts all but pressed into his face.

"Mhm," he hummed, coiling his arms around you so he could literally just press his face into your cleavage. You chuckled, giving him a quick cuddle as he pecked your skin slowly, and continuing your work. When you lowered yourself back to his lap, your bare cunt drug down his shaft, making you both groan. "Baby," he seethed through his teeth, gripping the back of your neck to keep you close, "please, just - get on me, yeah? Need yah - on a biblical level, darlin'."

"You're hurt," you weakly refused, your resolve barely hanging on by a thread.

"Not so hurt that I can't enjoy this, huh?" He argued, licking over your lips to halt all rational thought. "C'mon, love, we hiked it three days here - after a fuckin' train wreck. I would've dropped if not for the thought of you, seein' yah, touchin' you again. Don't even gotta move, just sit there, love."

"If I do, will you finally just sit still and let me clean you up?"

"Whatever baby wants, she'll have, swear it," he grinned, hoisting you into his arms so he could grip his throbbing cock, lower you, and line himself up until you were impaling yourself on him. "Jesus, fuck!" He snapped, mixing with your whimper at his impossible stretch. "Ah, you feel so fuckin' good, doll, this is it - this is what I needed, huh? All I fuckin' needed - fuck - right fuckin' here."

"Hush," you whispered with an embarrassed smile, glancing back. "I need the shower head."

"I got us," he answered, holding you tight and standing with a small grunt. He easily grabbed the shower head, handing it to you, letting you rinse his hair out as he turned to pin you against the wall with his hips for balance.

"This isn't just sitting," you mocked, soap flowing down his shoulders and chest. "Close your eyes, please," you whispered, wiping the frothy suds from his face as he did. "God, your curls are magnificent, seriously, why does God give the best qualities to men - who don't even appreciate what they have?"

He laughed lightly, "Gotta get your attention somehow."

"Mhm, these lashes? Not even a drop of mascara," you mused, pecking the tip of his nose while one hand held his jaw. "And this jawline? Baby, this alone could cut glass."

"Like your nipples, right?" He teased, nipping your collarbones; both acutely aware of your pebbled nips dancing across his flesh each time you moved. He chuckled, readjusting you when you reached to set the shower head back in the holder; making sure it could cascade over the bench still. "We done?" He asked softly.

"Nope, got the conditioner," you rolled your eyes, holding his shoulders when he moved back for the seat; still firmly inside you. When he sat again, you released a high-pitched breath when the position pushed him further into you; your legs folding beside his thighs to keep the ideal grip.

"In a second," he smirked, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. "Just need this, yeah?" He spoke against your lips, licking into your mouth. "Been hiking with a fucking hard-on for days, love, just fuckin' need this," he hissed into your mouth, teeth raking over your bottom lip in a possessive bite. You moaned quietly, lost in the ministrations of kissing him like a drunk teenager, barely aware when he started moving your hips over him.

"Tan," you tried.

"C'mon, love, we both need it," he shook his head. "Tell me to stop and I will, but I think we both need this."

With a long sigh, you pet his cheek, deciding, "Fine, but we're taking it easy, you're still - " But then there was a loud knock at the bathroom door, Lemon calling your name in question. You slapped a hand over Tangerine's irritated mouth when he looked ready to yell his protest, answering, "What is it, honey, are you guys okay? What's wrong?"

"Yeah, just, uh... Can we order a couple things from room service? Bit starving, thinkin' something hot?"

"Oh, yeah, whatever you guys need!" You encouraged happily, Tangerine biting your palm and making your hand retract with a small whine and pout.

"Oi!" He called over the shower stream.

"Yeah?" Lemon was heard laughing.

"Don't run up her bill, mate!"

"It's okay," you whispered, pecking his forehead. "Get what you need, Lemon," you called, "but order Tangerine something to eat, too, please!"

"On it, love! Thank you!"

"Oh! Of course!" You beamed back at Tangerine, who offered you a mild look of annoyance.

"Now, why do that?" He asked, grinding your hips on his again. "Huh? Those two will eat you outta house and home, love."

"It's fine, you guys have been through a lot," you promised, connecting your lips in a long kiss. "Now, you wanna keep talking financials or put the rest of this hot water to use?"

"There's my girl," he grunted, standing from the bench to move fully under the water; pinning you to the wall again.

You grunted when you collided with the cold tile, but the warm tongue in your mouth was plenty distraction. You held his neck like it was your single tether to life, teeth clashing, tongues wagging, lips wet and creating obscene sounds the more intense the kisses turned.

"Fuck," you felt the air punch from your lungs when Tangerine pulled his hips back to start thrusting; brows furrowed together in concentration as he worked in and out of you at an already brutal pace. You didn't complain - he obviously needed this, and by God, it felt otherworldly.

"'Ats my girl, so fuckin' good for me," he muttered, needing this more than you have ever before; each hand holding a thigh to keep you spread open for his taking, hips hammering into yours as his balls slapped the apex of your cunt to echo around the room.

You felt incoherent when he picked up his speed, dropping his forehead to your shoulder when your head was thrown back as he worked you closer, closer, closer to your release. There was no thought in your mind, just Tangerine; drunk on his smell, taste, touch, never wanting this feeling to end.

Just outside the bathroom, Ladybug was accepting the room service order when he heard the messy, obscene noises coming from the bathroom; looking wide eyed at the closed door. Lemon laughed, "Might wanna walk away, Joburg, he don't like nobody listening in."

"Kinda hard to when they're that loud," he blanched when you released a pornographic moan as Tangerine readjusted his stance so his cock was piercing what felt like straight through you. Lemon laughed at Ladybug being startled so much he literally scurried away.

"C'mon, love," Tangerine panted.

"Go back," you moaned, pawing at his shoulders as you felt too slippery in this position.

"Huh?"

"Sit!" You insisted, him pulling back from the wall and backing up until the bench hit the back of his knees - dropping him. "There's my boy," you mocked, a hand on the wall, the other on his good shoulder, supporting you to vigorously ride him. You felt renewed energy now that he was obviously okay, only his bullet wound still weeping - something you'll patch up once out of the water.

"Oh, holy fuck," Tangerine moaned, louder than you would've thought; his head thumping back to the wall and losing all composure. "That's it, doll, keep like that - ohhh, fuck me!"

"Exactly what I'm doing, yeah?" You teased, moving your hand to his throat and keeping pressure enough not to fully choke his air supply, but enough to make him moan at the feeling.

His mouth dropped open as you rode him enthusiastically, feeling determined to reward him for coming all this way to track you down. Yeah, sure, for a moment, it was concerning, but now, you simply didn't care that three strangers had found your hotel room and now crashed with you.

Nothing mattered when this deliriously delicious cock was inside you.

"Jesus!" Tangerine moaned, hands to your hips to help you move, but it seemed the years in your youth as an equestrian was truly paying off. Call it muscle memory, but years after mastering the posting trot and the correct canter diagonal, you were riding Tangerine as if you'd drop dead if you didn't. And he felt it, he felt all of it. "Yeah, you're too good at this," he groaned, "so fuckin' good - Goddamnit - fuck me. Just like that, love, keep going - fuck, I'm right there."

You smirked, pushing his neck back so we was pinned to the wall now, his eyes locked with yours, mouth agape, your breasts bouncing with vigor. You squeaked when Tangerine braced his feet, his own hips thrusting up into you to match your movements; adding to both your mounting pleasures as the shower created a cloud of steam around you both in a welcomed lung-choking heat.

You honestly didn't mean to, but the absolute gut-wrecking pleasure you felt was enough for you to moan in Tangerine's ear, "Daddy."

It seemed the right word as Tangerine groaned in an echo, thrusting faster to the point you couldn't keep up. You could only moan, groan, squeak, cry-out as he jackhammered up into you - something that made Lemon and Ladybug exchange looks, gather their things, and rush back over to their adjoining room to leave you both a fraction of privacy.

"Yeah, tell Daddy how good it is," he seethed in your ear, opening his mouth, and biting down on your neck; hand tightly wound in your hair.

"So good."

"How good?"

"Too good, Daddy, please," you sobbed, braced on his shoulders and chest as his arms held you tight to let him thrust with abandon. "Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God, yes, yes, yes," you praised, your orgasm rushing higher and higher to a new height. "Fuck," you moaned in his ear, "need this cock everyday. Went three days without, felt like I was losing my fucking mind."

"Feelin's mutual, love, so fuckin' mutual," he agreed, his cock swelling, "just needed t'get here, find yah again. Shit, fuck," he looked to where you were conjoined, praising, "gonna need yah home address - ain't no way we're goin' without one another, huh? Hey?"

"Yes, yes, yes," you squeaked, "there - there - there!"

His thumb pressed to your clit and you were done for. Grinding and humping into his hips, you crashed over the other side of your orgasm; feeling mildly limp as you slumped against his shoulder, letting Tangerine thrust a few more times.

"YES!" He shouted your name through clenched teeth, holding you with a vice grip as he bottomed out, balls contracting, squirting his full load inside you with shuddering breaths.

"Oh, my God," you sniffled, holding onto him as your legs were spent and you knew, the odds of you moving any time soon were slim to none.

"Yeah," Tangerine chuckled, leaning back to the wall as he panted; keeping hold of you. "Yah all right, love?"

"Uh-huh," you breathed, still absentminded.

"Yeah," he mused, pecking below your ear. "Just what the doctor ordered, huh?"

"Think the doctor would want your wound closed," you slowly sat off him, looking to the bloody hole and frowning as you pet around the irritated skin. He winced gently, making you frown, "Let's go, love, you need this tended to."

Only, when you dismounted, his cock flopping out of you once released, you tried to find your feet but only found the floor.

"C'mon, love, you just sit," he sighed, scooping you up and switching spots. He set you on the bench, stood, rinsed off under the water, readjusted the stream so it hit you a little better as he lathered conditioner into his curls with one arm.

"You're supposed to leave it sit for a bit," you tisked when he washed the conditioner out; shaking his curls.

"'S all right, still does the job."

"Your girlfriends never taught you haircare?"

He cleared his throat, looking a bit sheepish as he avoided your eyes. "Never really had one outside of secondary school. Job doesn't make dating the easiest, yeah?"

You furrowed your brows gently, then nodded, "Okay, well, just means you've room to learn, right?"

"Yeah, sure. You gonna teach me, love?" He mused, slicking his hair back in the water before shutting it off; wringing a few strands out.

"Why not?" You smiled. "But you gotta teach me something in return."

"Hmm? What's that you wanna learn?"

"How to shoot a gun."

He offered you a long look, seemingly skeptical. You accepted his hand and got from the bench, squeezing when the weight of your body made them tremble lightly. Stepping out, you both dried off with towels as he offered, "Why d'you think I know how to shoot a gun?"

"Tellin' me that Ladybug fellow is the only one? That's fine, I can ask him," you quipped, making him instantly respond,

"Nah, nah, nah, nah, don't do all that, I'll teach yah, love."

You smiled softly, wrapping your hair in a towel and approaching him - still naked. "Thank you," you whispered, kissing his lips in a soft, sweeping motion that made him hum in the back of his throat and reach for your bare arsecheek. "Now, c'mon, let's get you stitched up before you go startin' something you can't finish."

"You met me, love? I always finish," he gave a cheeky squeeze.

"Mhm, might be the last time, too, with this blood loss. Huh?"

He relented in a head nod and wrapped the towel around his hips, watching you shrug on a fluffy white robe and tie the sash. He took your hand, laced your fingers together, and exited the bathroom - only to come to a shocking halt.

There was blood trailed all over the room, medical supplies strewn around, and several food wrappers. "Told yah, love," Tangerine sighed.

"It's okay," you smiled, "they'll clean it."

"You're so sure?"

"I'm very persuasive," you eased. "C'mon, sit," you ushered him back to the bloodied sofa, figuring damage was already done and anymore blood wouldn't make much of a difference. You grabbed whatever material you could, snapping on rubber gloves and taking a deep breath. "Ready?" You asked Tangerine.

"One more kiss and you can have at it," he sighed, leaning in until you met him happily; offering several swipes of his tongue before resting his forehead on your own.

"It'll sting for a bit," you warned, holding the bottle of alcohol.

"C'mon, darlin', 's all right, I can handle - OH! FUCKS SAKE!" He cursed when you poured the disinfectant over his bullet wound.

In the next room, Ladybug and Lemon shared a look before snickering as if two juvenile boys at a sleepover. And honestly? Spot the difference.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[axelsagewrites]

Hello. First of all love your writing. <3

I have a request for you:

can you write a robb stark x reader maybe reader is a ward of the starks and the two have been engaged and best friends since childhood. Then the wedding comes and the reader is nervous and afraid of the wedding night

thank you

Robb Stark*Goodnight Dear Husband

Pairing: Robb Stark x f!reader

Word count: 1594

Warnings: insecurity, worrying about sex, (brief)motherhood, marriage

Masterlist here

you still remember the first night you spent at Winterfell. The day had been so fun. Catelyn gave you a tour of the castle, Ned let you try pick up his sword Ice which you could barely even lift the handle, Jon taught you how to sneak into the kitchens. You even remember meeting Robb.

He was a lanky boy, seven to your six. His knees were knobbly, and his curly hair could barely be controlled no matter how much his mother tried. Freckles scattered his cheeks and there was a shy smile on his chapped lips. “Welcome my lady,” he greeted with a shaky bow which was matched with your own wonky curtsey.

“I like your horse,” he said, pointing to the stuffed animal in your hand. A wide smile beamed onto your face at that, “Would you like to meet my horse? You can ride him if you’d like,” and within moments of arriving you were already fast friends. You didn’t even know you were to marry him yet.

The day was fun but tiring at that. there was a small feast of stew and honey cakes to welcome you however you were relieved to be shown to your room. It was only a corridor away from Robb’s and next to the young Sansa’s and Arya’s.

The bed practically consumed you as you clambered in, snuggling into the furs to try get away from the nipping cold. You watched as the candle flame began to waver just as a wolf howled. Your hands clutched the furs in fear before bravely reaching out to grab your horse.

But it wasn’t there.

You’d left it at the feast. How could you be so foolish? You gently began to sniffle, soft tears falling when you realised you were alone, and the light was nearly out, and you didn’t know where they kept the spare candles. Then there was a knock at the door.

You quickly jumped out of bed, running to the door encase your parents had come to tell you it was time to go home. Instead stood a boy with knobbly knees and unkempt curls holding a stuffed horse. “You forgot this. Were you crying?”

“No,” you sniffled, snatching the horse from his hands, “Its just dusty in here,” Robb nodded, biding goodnight and turning to leave when you grabbed his wrist, “Wait! I-I,” you stammered, “I don’t know where the candles are,” you mumbled.

Robb, no longer even slightly shy, strode into the room, fetching them from a drawer and quickly lighting more for you. “How’s that?”

“Perfect. And thank you,” you said, smiling softly at the boy, a yawn overcoming you again.

“Do you want me to tuck you in?” he offered as you began to clamber into bed, “Its what my mum does when I’m scared,”

“I’m not scared,” you pouted, pulling the covers over yourself, “You can. If you want to. Its up to you,” you said, silently hoping he would which he instantly did. Robb tucked you in, kissing your forehead before turning to leave, “Night Robbie,”

“Night, night,”

-

You were pacing your room so much you wondered if you might wear a hole in the stone floor. Your wedding dress was folded perfectly in a chest by the foot of your bed. There was a box on top of it with your families crest on a broach your parents had gifted you as well as a Stark amulet from Ned and Cat. It also had hair pins, carefully selected by Sansa from the market and a silver ring with a red stone from Robb.

Everything was as it was supposed to be. You were to marry Robb and officially become a Stark. Yet for some reason your corset felt so tight you could hardly breathe despite how lose it was. Your mind was running over drive as your pacing struggled to keep up.

There was a soft knock on the door. You rushed over, flinging it open despite the late hour, to be greeted by your soon to be husband, “Robbie,” you almost gasped, “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you,” he said, coming in without having to ask, “Who were you expecting?”

“No one,” you lied, biting your lip in the way that made Robb raise an eyebrow. “Jon said he’d sneak me some honey cakes after cook went to bed,”

Robb chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair off your face. “You look so pretty,” despite him saying it a hundred times you still felt the butterflies dancing in your stomach.

“You wanna come in?” you asked.

He didn’t need to be told twice and soon you were sat on your bed, your legs over his and your head on his shoulder. It was a peaceful silence. It should have been relaxing but soon your mind began to wonder.

You were to be married tomorrow. There was a gorgeous white dress waiting for you, jewels to match, a new name and title. You were going to move into Robb’s room, be his wife, his comfort, his relief. In all ways soon.

Despite loving Robb, a rarity in marriage, you couldn’t help being scared. Sure, he was attractive, stunning even, and its not like you hadn’t had thoughts about it before but suddenly the wedding night was dawning on you.

Its not like you didn’t want to have sex. From what you had done with Robb you knew it would be good. great even. Orgasmic hopefully. But the idea of it made you tense. Something Robb soon noticed.

“You, okay?” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

“Yeah, just thinking,” you mumbled as you picked at your fingers, “Just you know. Wedding stuff,”

“You don’t sound too excited sweetheart,” he pouted, tightening his arms around you, “C’mon you can tell me,”

You sighed before moving to face him, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes were so filled with care you could drown in them. “Just worried about what comes next,”

“Kids?” he asked, eyebrows scrunched up.

“No! well now I am but still,” you sighed, closing your eyes so you could finally say the right words, “What if I’m not good at it?” you said, emphasizing the last word making a small oh come from his mouth. “I know it’s stupid- “

“It’s not stupid sweetheart,” he hushed, his hands moving to gently squeeze yours, “But trust me you’ll be good at it,” he chuckled.

“What if I don’t do it right?”

“We’ll figure it out,”

“What if I don’t like it?”

“Then we’ll stop,”

“What if you don’t think I look good?”

“That’s not physically possible,” he said, tilting your chin up with two fingers to give you a soft kiss with his cheeky smile. It quickly turned into a softer face, “Besides we don’t have to do it just because we can,”

You sighed, “I know you want too then,”

Robb shuffled, almost pulling away making you sit up. His shoulders deflated as he sighed, “Of course I want to love. But only if you do. I don’t want to have sex with some girl just because I can. I wanna be with you,” he said, taking your hands, “because I love you,” he managed to get a small smile out of you making him grin, “And because you’re sexy as fuck,”

“Shut up,” you laughed, smacking at his chest, “You can’t blame me for being worried,”

“I’m not blaming you. I’m nervous too,” he admitted making you laugh a little, “What?”

You shrugged, your eyes wandering over him, “Just never imagined you not all confident and suave. Besides you don’t need to be nervous. You’re perfect,” your hand moved to cup his jaw, your thumb running over his cheek bone.

Robb pulled your legs over his lap, pulling you into his side. “That’s how I feel about you. Whatever happens or doesn’t happen or whatever,” he rambled, taking your hands in his, “We’ll do it together and we’ll go slow. I never want to hurt you,”

“And I never wanna lose you,” you said squeezing his hands

“Good,” he said, leaning forward to kiss your lips gently, “Because you’re stuck with me,” you leaned in to return the kiss which started slow and gentle, but a shiver ran down your spine when his hand moved to rest on your hip. Your glorious make out was interrupted by a knock at the door.

It quickly opened just as you and Robb were pulling apart, “Gross,” Jon muttered as he closed the door behind him. “Also, sorry cook was up late tonight getting ready for the wedding,” he said as he handed you the wrapped goods, “speaking of. You.” He said, pointing a finger at Robb, “get to bed. I haven’t been covering for you two for you to get busted in her bed the night before so get,”

Robb sighed as he dragged himself away from you, giving one last peck before he had to go and before Jon would hit him. “And you,” Jon said as he now pointed his finger to you, “Get your beauty sleep. You need it,” he said with a tilted smile making Robb hit him and you laugh.

“Your one to talk now beat it. a lady needs her rest,”

“Uhuh,” Jon said, rolling his eyes but quickly wishing goodnight. He pretended not to notice Robb giving you a goodnight kiss and instead waited in the hall.

“I’ll see you tomorrow love wife even,” he grinned.

“Goodnight, dear husband,”

“Goodnight sweet wife,”

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[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Hii, could you please do a dom fem reader x sub Kirk?? And maybe the use of their safe word if it becomes to much for him. …And possibly some comfort afterwards?? Sorry if this is too much😭🫶

(btw I love your fics sm<3)

A/n: Tiny Kirk, precious Kirk, protect Kirk

Warnings: Smut, angst, use of safe word, dom!sub dynamics, use of toys, overstimulation, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You'd always been the dominant one in the relationship but you were always so caring about Kirk as well. It was never a 'brat taming' thing, in the beginning all it was was vanilla stuff with you giving him instructions since you were the more experienced one.

It started as just that and nothing more but you found that it made the both of you enjoy it so much more, as time progressed and you got more comfortable in the relationship you started trying out more things.

You had his wrists and ankles tied to the bed posts, a cloth over his eyes making him even more vulnerable to your touch. You'd pulled more orgasms from him than you could remember and still you weren't done.

Used toys were scattered around the room, lying on the cum soaked sheets that Kirk lay helplessly in while you hover over him, straddling his lap and grinding against him at a painfully slow pace.

Kirk was whining, tears soaking into the cloth over his eyes. “Please… please, it-it hurts.” He muttered, quiet sobs leaving him.

“Oh, does it?” You asked in a mocking tone. “It hurts when mommy uses her good boy?” He nodded, a wonky copy of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Want back inside mommy, don't you?" He whined loudly, tugging on his restraints.

“Please, mommy, I-I can’t…”

“Mmh… I think you can.” You trailed you hand up his stomach, lightly grazing your nails over his sensitive skin. You lifted your hips and sank down on his length, a low moan leaving you while Kirk cried out beneath you.

"Fuck! Fuck, mommy-mommy! I-I can't- it-it hurts." He whined, a sob leaving him. You laughed at how pathetic he looked beneath you, crying and weak, drool spilling past his lips and down his cheeks. A soft gasp left you as you started moving your hips, riding his pulsing cock. "Fuck, no, no, no, mommy, stop, mommy-mommy, please!" He cried.

Again you laughed at him. "Oh, look at you, sweet boy, whining and begging for mommy, huh?" You teased. "You're a good boy, aren't you?" He thought for a moment before shaking his head.

“Blue, please, blue.” He said, choking back sobs. You paused for a second as you processed what he said.

When you did you quickly got off of him and took off his blindfold before undoing the restraints. He curled in on himself, pulling a pillow tight to himself. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, darling, I didn’t mean to.” You said, gently running your fingers through his hair. Kirk cried into the pillow, muffling his sounds slightly. You bit your lip. “Do you want a bath..?” You asked, rubbing his arm. He shook his head. “Well, we gotta get you clean…”

Kirk sniffled and looked up at you. “It-it’s too late to have a bath…” He mumbled. His eyes were wet and heartbroken, you just wanted to kiss him better and make it all go away.

You shook your head. “It’s not too late, we don’t have to go anywhere tomorrow, you can have a bath.”

“Really..?” You nodded.

You leaned down and kissed his forehead before going to get a bath ready for him, bath salts, bubbles, candles, the works.

You helped him to the bathroom, letting him lean on you because of how weak his legs were. Cum was dripping down him, mixing with the thin layer of sweat coating him. His chest, stomach and thighs were all a mess. You helped him wipe it all off before getting in the bath.

You sat outside the bath, playing with his hair. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." You said in a soft voice. "I should've been nicer to you, yeah?" He gave a small nod. "Don't worry, I'll make it up to you." You said with a smile, kissing his temple.

You stared at him a moment, his puffy eyes closed, bruised lips parted slightly as soft breaths left him. "I love you, you know that?" He gave a small nod. You wanted a verbal answer but figured he was too tired. "You can sleep, I'll keep an eye on you while you're in here." He leaned back, relaxing into the warm, bubbly water.

Even though he was asleep you made sure to continue praising him and telling you how much you loved him, how sorry you were. He might not hear it but you couldn't risk him not knowing.

[collapsedglasshouses]

Consequences || Noah Sebastian x Reader [Part 1]

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Summary: Y/N has known Noah since he became her brother's best friend. Growing up with him and knowing everything about each other let to them also being close friends. But something changes between them when Y/N is moving in with them due to a water damage in her apartment and it all leads to Nick's 30th birthday party.

Warnings: NSFW 18+!, MDNI!, language, mention of marijuana, implied medication use, oral sex (female receiving), alcohol consumption, (feel free to let me know if i missed anything <3)

A/N: So this is the first work I every put onto tumblr and also the first work I every publish in English… Therefore: Pls have in mind that English isn’t my first language and I'm new to writing smut! If you have tips or tricks for me to improve my writing, pls feel free to message me! The idea was spooking around my head for a while. Be safe ppl and remember if you are under the age of 18, pls do not interact with my stuff since I’m really not comfortable with that (if i see it anyways i will block you). Now enjoy! <3

November 29, 2022 was the day everything changed…

12:34 PM; November 29, 2022

You woke up in the house where your brother and his friends lived. At the moment you kind of lived there due to water damage at your own apartment.

While the other roommates were momentarily out of the house, it was very empty and quiet around here. So it was no problem for you to get the spare bedroom. When you realised your brother was still sleeping, you tip toed down to the kitchen area where you found Jolly, Noah and Folio preparing a cake with candles.

"I think I've never seen you guys be so cute before." you mocked them while eying the cake. It was shaped like a guitar and coloured in black while being decorated with wonky red letters saying „Happy Birthday, Nick!“

You smiled to yourself before going around the kitchen counter and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge "So, when do we start tonight?" you ask your friends while sitting down on the kitchen counter.

"It depends on how long Jolly and Folio can distract Nick." Noah answers before walking towards you, stepping in between your legs and than grabbing a cup from the shelf above you while looking at you.

"What do you mean 'Jolly and Folio'? What about us?" you ask your brother's best friend while holding his gaze. It wasn’t unusual for you two to be close to each other since you had known Noah for ages considering his friendship with your brother Nick, but since you were living here something had changed. From sleeping in on the couch together while watching anime and waking up in each others arms to him telling you about song ideas that he didn’t tell anyone else about or those small touches you exchanged whenever no one was watching that seemed so innocent but still left you guessing.

When he finally broke your gaze and stepped back to pour himself a cup of coffee, you took a big sip out of your water bottle to drown out your thoughts before anyone noticed your nervousness.

"You two need to prepare the house while Folio and I go equipment shopping with your brother." Jolly explains before you hear a shuffling upstairs, causing you all to become quite and stare at the stairs while gathering around the cake which candles were quickly lit by Jolly. It didn’t take long before your brother wobbled down the stairs and came to a hold when he saw you four standing in front of his cake smiling.

"Happy Birthday, Nick!" you all shout in union while Nick rubbed his eyes and took a couple of tired steps towards you before blowing his candles. "What are you guys planning? You act like fucking robots." he mumbles while Folio cut the cake into small pieces.

"Can't we just be grateful that mom brought you into this world 30 years ago?" you said before hugging him tightly. "Jesus… You making me sound so old. But yeah… Definitely… Even though Folio looks like you stapled that smile onto his fucking face"

The guys quickly changed the subject to not cause any further suspicion before you ate breakfast together. It didn’t take long until the three boys took of, leaving Noah and you alone to decorated the house.

You talked about anything and everything, before you asked Noah to help him hang a "Happy Birthday" sign on the wall.

You were unsuccessfully trying to reach the height the sign was supposed to go on. Before you could argue you felt arms go around your waist and shortly after that you were being lift up. You felt your pulse rise and your eyes widened. "What the fuck are you doing, Noah?" you protested - "Helping you. Now do your job."

You muttered under your breath and tried to concentrate while Noah's arms were wrapped around you. You would lie if you said you didn’t like how close he was to you but at the same time you tried to push away the way it made you feel.

"You know, I actually can’t believe Nick's thirty already. It feels like time flies by so much faster since we formed the band." Noah almost whispered while you try to concentrate on the banner before you and not how soothing his voice sounded to you. "It feels like yesterday when Nick called us to pick him up from that girl’s house because her dad caught them making out." You slightly chuckle at the memory before you signaled Noah to let you down.

"It also feels like yesterday when you called me in the middle of the night because the exact same thing happened to you and you were too proud to call Nick because you made fun of him because of said story." you reminded him while turning around and looking up into his eyes. You would never get used to the fact how tall Noah was in comparison to you. It wasn’t like you were tiny but he still was more or less a head taller than you.

"It’s not like nothing like that never happened to you, Y/N Ruffilo." he noted in a teasing voice and you exactly knew which story he meant. "Noah, you promised we would never talk about that again." - "I promised to never tell your brother that you slept with that skater jerk Michael back at your senior prom and than almost getting pregnant from it."

You remembered it clear as day how Noah drove you to the pharmacy in the early morning hours to get a Plan B and how you cried about not wanting to be a teen mom and how he comforted you by saying he would be there for the child like it was his own.

You also clearly remember your dumb crush on that Michael guy. There was this boy in your and Noah's year that you had a huge crush on since eighth grade. Michael was a skater and in retrospective he definitely wasn’t a good guy, considering his first love were definitely joints but when Noah left school at 15 to pursue his music career there was no one who stopped you from your stupid little crush, considering the fact you didn’t tell your brother because he would have hunted Michael down.

"You know I would kill you if you would even think about telling Nick." you threatened your friend and pointed a finger to his chest. Noah smirked while looking down at your hand, before grabbing the tape from your other hand and leaning to your ear. "As if you could do anything against me."

Shivers went down your spine and your heart began to beat faster while Noah left you standing there in the middle of the living room to go on with decorating. If that wasn’t enough he looked back at you and said "But at least you didn’t lose your virginity to that jerk."

You felt your cheeks burn while thinking about what he was implying. You and Noah being the same age and having such a close friendship at a phase in your live that was purely controlled by hormones, it wasn’t far off that you did in fact lose your virginity to your brother’s best friend. But you both swore that not a soul in the world would ever find out about that and managed to keep it this way to this day.

You tried to push the thoughts of the past away by biting the inside of your cheek. You didn't know what to do. Slowly but surely he was driving you insane and you didn’t even know if he was doing on purpose.

This was the moment you decided that it was best for your own good to try to avoid Noah's presence at the upcoming party. You didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship with him and therefore ruining the bond your brother had with him since ages.

11:19 PM; November 29 2022

Hours later you found yourself on the couch in the corner of the living room while the party for you brother was at its peak. You didn’t really know how many drinks you consumed, considering the fact that you took at least four shots with your brother, but you definitely started to feel the alcohol in your system while you listened to a story Bryan told you about the last tour.

You couldn’t help but think about what happened early. Noah seemingly consumed your mind. You could only think about his hands around your waist or how comfortable you two slipped into this weird situation in your friendship. When you were younger you often cuddled or were close but it all seemed so different lately and you couldn’t wrap your head around why it suddenly felt so different for you. You feared that you were imagining that change.

"I'm sorry, Bryan, but I'm not doing so well." You quickly excused yourself while standing up and making your way upstairs. You didn’t know what had gotten into you but you knew that you needed to clear your head.

You entered the upstairs bathroom, leaving the door open since no one was on this floor and looked at your self through the small mirror. Your cheeks were flushed because of the alcohol you consumed and your eyes were slightly red.

You bent down and splashed a few drops of water in your face when you suddenly heard a voice behind you. "Are you okay?" Noah asked with furrowed eyebrows while placing a hand on your back, instantly sending a wave of chills down your spine.

"Yeah, yeah… Uh… I'm fine just a bit tipsy" you mumbled, drying your face with a towel before turning to face your friend.

Without even realising it you let your gaze wander and looked at Noah more closely. He wore a black turtleneck and black cargo pants, if you didn’t knew better you would say he was about to go on stage. In comparison to him you seemingly looked naked. Only dressed in a lacey black crop top and a skirt that was to short for your own good. But you were at your brother's, one of the places you felt save with wearing anything and everything.

Suddenly he raised his hand and put a strand of her behind your ear. "Do you maybe wanna watch a movie or something? You seem nervous."

You slightly look up to meet his eyes. The eyes of one of your best friends. The eyes of the boy who knew everything about you except your confusing feelings towards him. You took a deep breath and noticed his eyebrows rose for a second, before you nodded. As confused as you were, Noah was still Noah and knew exactly what he needed to do to calm your nerves. So you decided to sneak away from the party and not even an hour later you found yourself showered and in pyjamas sitting in his bed while searching for something to watch while he got ready for your sleepover.

You could still hear the music blast from outside of his room when he came back wearing sweatpants and a worn out band shirt.

"You know what you wanna watch?" Noah asks you while making himself comfortable next to you.

"You will laugh at me." - "Spirited Away?" Bullseye. Over the years Spirited Away became your comfort movie. You remember it clear as day when you first watched the movie with your brother when you were around ten. So when Noah started playing the movie all the memories you had while watching it filled your body and for a second you forgot about the weird things you've been thinking all day while snuggling into Noah's side like you always used to.

"Do you wanna tell me what has gotten into your mind?" he asked carefully when you were halfway through the movie and your heart automatically started to beat faster while you turned to look at each other.

You thought about a way to get out of this situation. You couldn’t just tell him that you had been thinking about it all day how his hands felt on your body. That would have been stupid considering the fact that you were sure you were imagining that whole atmosphere so you decided to just shake your head and look him in the eyes. Your cheeks started to feel warm and him than brushing a strand of hair behind your ear while signaling you to come closer to him didn't exactly help. You obeyed him, knowing full well he didn’t believe you, and slid closer to him until your head found its place in the crook of his neck while his arms slung around you. One around your back and the other one, to your surprise, slightly under your shirt.

"You know you can tell me everything." he said, his voice becoming a bit deeper and raspier while he started drawing circles on the exposed part of your skin. You had a feeling that you would catch fire any moment. You felt like you didn’t have any control over your body anymore. So much to your own surprise you lifted your head slightly and before you knew you placed a couple of soft kisses on this neck before stopping in your tracks and panicking. He had stopped doodling circles on your skin. Instead now he had grabbed your waist a little harsher than normal and let out a sound you last heard when you two were seventeen, a bit too drunk for you own good and definitely more naked than now.

You paused in your actions and waited for his reaction, trying to guess if you officially ruined your longterm friendship for the sake of your own amusement, but than he whispered in your ear "Why did you stop?"

Before you could think Noah turned on his back, pulling you with him so now you were sitting directly on his crotch and could feel him growing harder.

"Do you even realise what you do to me?" he almost moaned in your ear causing you to lose the last bit of clarity in your head and you kiss his neck again, more firmly than you did before.

He let out that noise again that send heavy shivers down your spine and before you could even process what was happening you grinded your hips against his. A wave of pleasure hit you when Noah began to fiddle with your shirt, silently demanding you to take it off, while slightly buckling his hips upwards. So you sat up on him and did as he demanded.

You never thought that you would every be in the position again that Noah Sebastian was looking at you like that. Pupils dilated and that look on his face that made you want to rip of his clothes.

With easiness he turned you two around so he was on top of you and took his turtleneck off, displaying all his tattoos to you that always made you weak and started kissing down your neck, than along your collarbone and eventually landed between your breasts.

"You are so fucking beautiful" he whispers against your skin causing you to moan quietly. "Fuck… Noah." You stutter while he slowly takes one of your nipples into his mouth while massaging the other with one hand. Your hands quickly found their way into his dark hair and when you pulled on it slightly he moaned against your skin.

"N-Noah.." you mumble causing him to look at you "I-…" - "Take your time, Y/N."

You took a deep breath while he stroked your skin around your waist "I need you to touch me"

Never in a million years you thought that you would say those words ever again to Noah but in this moment you needed nothing more than to feel him closer to you.

You again thought for a moment that you overstep an unspoken line because Noah stared at you for a second to long. In the exact moment you wanted to say something again he began kissing down your belly and stopped at the waistband of your panties, looking at you, searching for any kind of regret in your face but the only thing you could think about was his mouth where you needed it the most. So you buckled your hips up a little, signaling him to go on which he did with anticipation.

Noah slowly let the last bit of clothing on you slip down your legs before spreading them with his hands.

Before you could even say anything you felt his tongue against your clit and arched your back. Immediately your hands found their way back into his hair and you pulled on it, causing him to moan against your core while you nearly lost your mind.

You nearly began to sob when you felt two of his long fingers push inside of you and curve upwards. You begged that nobody would hear you scream those profanities while Noah ate you out like it was his last meal on this earth. Wet noises filled the steamy air in his room while the end credits of Spirited Away rolled in the background. You began to shake.

"Noah… I'm gonna… Noah… fuck" you cried out while trying to get a hold of yourself. You never felt this kind of way. And the fact that it was Noah making you feel that way made it even better to you.

You were a moaning mess when you came undone, grabbing Noah's hair so hard you feared you would hurt him but hearing him groan against you instead made you cum even harder.

"Oh fuck… baby… look at you… cumming so hard you can’t even contain yourself." Your body shaked as you started to come down from your high, still jerking towards Noah while he slowly kissed his way up to your face.

Your first clear thought started to form in your head when Noah was right above you looking into your eyes.

"Holy shit." - "You call it." - "Fuck." He nodded looking as surprised as you did in that moment.

You looked into his brown eyes that never left your face while he admired you. You didn’t know what to say so you did the only thing that came to your mind and grabbed his face before kissing him with force.

Noah sighed into your mouth while you could taste yourself on his mouth.

You knew that nothing would be the same after this but you both also knew now wasn’t the time to talk about.

So when you left Noah's arms and than his room around two hours later, when the house got quiet, with messed up hair and lips still slightly pink, you knew this would definitely have consequences…

READ PART 2 HERE

[kindaasrikal]

Kai headcanons because I’m tired and cant think of anything else:

Kai both does and doesn’t have a concept of monetary value. Like imagine they go grocery shopping and they need to buy essentials like ingredients, veggies, hygiene stuff to stock up on. Like usually whenever the other ninja went with their families they were able to buy some extras like candy or toys, maybe some more clothes despite having many just cause they like it or smth. With Kai? This guy slaps it out of their hands and says it’s not worth the waste when they’re only here for essentials. Wu gave them money for that only, so they best budget and make sure they can buy everything they need and maybe some extras of those things or else. None of them realise how confused Wu is when a proud Kai returns believing he saved up money by being smart and responsible, when Wu actually gave them extras to use there as like an implied thing. But when it comes to things of value, this guys has no idea what to do, take for example with Ronin. He had no idea how much the thing could cost but knew they had to pay it or else. But he’s also horrible at negotiating because he can’t properly understand the worth of what they’re negotiating the deal on and can’t see when it might be worse or better.

Kai was a shockingly quiet kid. Like yes he was still ‘aggressive’ and rude, but like never spoke on his own. Nya was always the talker between the two, but even she doesn’t talk as much as often. So usually Kai would silently accept a lot of things as a child until he grew older and got a bit of an attitude so despite being often silent that one quiet kid in the back who does everything right will and probably has cussed you out if you step out of line.

Nya actually cut Kai’s hair when they were younger because she was bored and Kai fell for her trap and ended up thinking it wad a great idea since his hair had gotten too long. She messed it up however since, you know, she was like max 6, and Kai’s hair came out nothing like the picture they had of their dads. Kai almost cried at how it didn’t turn out like how he wanted when Nya giggled and said his hair looks like a “Really cool fireee!”. No, Nya does not remember that she’s the reason Kai keeps his hair like that.

Kai loves fish, he likes dragging Nya outside to summon some and makes her stay with him until he’s bored. Nya likes eating fish.

Kai likes jumping into his rlly bulky and tall mechs and then posing like a school girl or a cute model in them. Jay once managed to convince him to Jojo pose and they distracted an enemy because of it. Cole and Lloyd cussed them out, except Cole couldn’t stop laughing and Lloyd’s hair kept blowing in the wind dramatically every time he changed his position so it looked like he posing. He made them run up and down the monastery mountain steps five times each way. Cole too.

You know those really cute candle holders? So like Kai convinced Pixal to make him a fire proof bear suit, wore it outside in the dark, in the middle of the training ground, with everyone asleep. He lit himself on fire and he looked like a glowing monster bear with teeth and blood (shadows and ketchup, he was hungry). He thought it looked cute and cool. Zane screaming, malfunctioning, and then screeching “THY BEAST MUST BE SLAIN!” And shooting ice at him was not a part of the plan (Zane watched Macbeth the movie before sleeping). Both refuse to apologise to each other but after a day of ignoring one another Jay watches as Kai clings to a Zane full koala like when he’s doing chores.

Cole tries to teach Kai how to draw. Kai, for the life of him, cannot. Even stickmen look wonky and wrong.

Kai, surprisingly enough, has amazing handwriting. Everyone gets him to write stuff like letters for them because either theres is worse then a kid in nursery, or they wanna impress someone.

Kai really likes having something around his arms, like bandages, gloves, cloth, anything. For special events, he lets Cole tie silk ribbons around his arms like bandages.

Kai wishes he had soft hands. Everyone loves the feeling of his rough hands though. It comforts them.

Kai also loves cracking his knuckles. He loves doing it around Wu, who hates the noise and smacks Kai with his staff, who cackles and does it again.

At bad times in his life, Kai sits and lights a fire when the moon is at its highest point, out in the dark where it’s cold.

Kai loves stealing Jay’s action figures by accident. Jay was annoyed at first until he saw Nya giving Skylor an unintentional wide eyed look whilst holding a doll after Skylor said “oh, yeah i forget i had this old thing, don’t really like it tbh” disinterestedly. Jay put together whats what when Skylor blinked and said Nya could have it with a grin, who legit giggled. Nya. Giggling. Jay puts his action figures on a shelf and never touches them, giving an impression to someone who isn’t a collector (who couldn’t afford to be one) that they aren’t that important. Jay begins buying more action figures and other stuff he usually wouldn’t but knows Kai or Nya would love and leave it somewhere like it’s always been there. Says something under is breath just loud enough for a peeping ear to hear about how he might throw it away, and the next day its gone. Sometimes, he outright hands it to them saying he doesn’t like it but doesn’t wanna waste it. The other ninja, plus Pixal and Wu, pick up whats going on and do the same. Later in the years (after the re-design and sog) Kai and Nya long picked up on whats going on, they still love it regardless because it makes them feel less guilty (no no guys they definitely didn’t break down sobbing after Jay gave them a water themed colouring book for adults and Kai a mimic of Mitsuri Kanroji’s sword from demon slayer (a fake), definitely not.)

(Lowkey just realised this is very similar to a Morro fanfic of ao3, No i did not realise it when i wrote it but i do now, its where Morro likes collecting seemingly useless stuff left in places no one would leave smth special at. It’s because Morro was a homeless orphan, so he takes useless things in to give them importance. Love that head canon and fanfic it’s on ao3 guys omg. Imagine resurrected Morro doing that and Kai and Nya just realising in horror that THEY do that too. They get it, and dammit Morro is more similar to them than they would’ve liked.)

Kai totally likes wearing those happy birthday head bands even when it’s not his birthday and acts like he isn’t. If someone says happy birthday to him, he looks at them all judgy like and says “Its not my birthday? What gave you that impression?”

Kai actually easily gets sick, and hates it. The others have to time his down so he’ll actually get rest and not just push through it regardless. It takes summoning the duo of Wu AND Maya to get him to stop.

When the og four ninja met for the first time and right after they stopped Garmadon and got back to their realm, they still hadn’t actually gotten to know each other so Kai used to run away from them like the secret introvert he was groomed into being and it took Nya tackling him to get him to finally play those “super cringy bonding games”

Kai was subjected to Lloyd’s glowing green eyes staring at him constantly with no words exchanged. When the silence got too much and Lloyd just kept staring Kai asks what his problem is. Lloyd says “oh nothing, muchacho” and Kai realises Lloyd is still petty over what happened in the first episode.

Yeah thats all i got i think I’m sick shdgfv

[quintessential-candles]

At least I’m pretty when I cry!

[allwaswell16]

[4 pics, 4 quotes, 4 iconic 1D fics]

Iconic Fics by... - LadyLondonderry -

[1]

When the moon finally reaches directly overhead (which Louis mostly notices because Niall grabs his hand and squeezes it like he’s trying to pop the eyes off a trout), Lady Oich swims up before them and recites the ceremonial vows, her mermaid tongue twisting the words into a haunting song about being bound for life to one’s lover. Louis shivers as the words wash over him, at the magnitude of their meaning. 

When she ends her speech, Louis suddenly realises he wishes badly that he wasn’t one of the best looking omegas here, because he really doesn’t want to be first. 

But then Lady Oich makes eye contact with him and raises her hand, and Louis’ heart nearly stops in his chest. She’s signalled that he’s first, and that his choosing begins now. 

[2]

He’s been up at the Help Desk for about half an hour when someone in a fireman uniform who is not Liam comes up to him.

This man, this not-Liam man, is probably the most attractive man Harry has ever seen. Did he say the other day that Liam was hot? That was a lie. No one could hold a candle to this perfect human specimen right in front of him. He’s got soft chestnut coloured hair that Harry would like to run his hands through, a bit of stubble that defines the set of his jaw, the cutest button nose Harry has ever seen, and the curve of his neck… This man cannot possibly be a mere human. Perhaps this Christmas is the second coming of Christ, because this man is compact perfection.

“Hello,” Perfection says when he reaches the counter.

Harry squeaks, and tries to cover it up with a cough.

“I’m Louis,” says Perfection. He sticks his hand out and… shit, is this what Liam felt like? What hand does Harry use? Which is the right one?

[3]

By the time Harry gets back to the office, Louis’ arrived and is sipping coffee from his signature fox mug. He waves at Harry. “You’re not dead!” 

“I’m not dead,” Harry agrees. “Just had to go rescue my roommate.”

“Ah,” says Louis. “Nick said you had one hour vomiting sickness.”

“That too,” Harry says. He sits down and goes back to his stack of plans that he had barely started copying. His head still hurts. He doesn’t want to have to go stand at the copier for the next hour fighting with it, so he takes the six that were successfully copied and brings them up on his screen, indexing and archiving them. 

The plans that Harry copies are supposed to have no paperclips, no staples, no sticky notes. 

The people who create these packets are what Mitch likes to call “incompetent nutters”.

On the wall behind him, Harry’s started a collection of sticky notes that he’s pulled out of the copier when the pages jam. He cuts them up to protect privacy information which makes them unique and wonky and wonderful. He takes a moment to flip through the six on his desk, and adds two to the collage; Please add blood and dissenting opinion. That’s satisfying at least. 

[4]

Now trying to distract himself from the faint salmon smell that seems to be growing stronger, Louis starts people-watching with a purpose. There’s a woman with a young child in her arms who has a stuffed bear in her arms, and all three of them are in matching blue dresses. The person now sitting opposite him has purple hair and earrings that hang past their shoulders in a tangle of tiny glinting beads. Louis wonders how often they get stuck on things. He can see what he thinks is a soulmate tattoo just below their jawline, something short. Good for them. 

There’s a man at the far end of the tube who is wearing a chunky oversized sweater, colourful knit squares patched together like a clown outfit made for winter. Louis isn’t sure, but he thinks it might be hideous. The guy is turned around, though, so he can only see the back of it. 

- answers below -

[1] Moon Dances Over

Louis knows that his tail is, frankly, stunning. His iridescent blue scales shimmer in even the slightest sunlight, and his fins have grown since he presented, delicate and almost transparent in their webbing.

He also knows that that means he’ll be one of the first to pick tonight, as the most beautiful omegas are blessed to pick their mates first. It’s considered a huge honour, since the guppies they’ll eventually birth will certainly be beautiful as well, bringing favour on the whole clan.

Louis has a stubborn streak, though. He’s always been rather a fan of mating for love, and there’s someone he’s had his eye on for a long time now.

[2] Frankincense-ational

Harry Styles works at the Hillsyde Library with his friend Zayn and best mate Niall. It’s December, which means Christmas, which should be the happiest month of the year…

Except Niall just broke up with his boyfriend, Zayn needs to let up on the rules a little, and the library is getting their fire alarm system replaced, which means that for the next few weeks there are going to be firemen patrolling the library ‘looking for fires’ while the system is down.

Harry almost hits one of them with his car right off the bat - and of course he’s the hot one.

Happy Christmas, here’s to many more.

A 2017 Advent Fic

[3] Give A Little Sing To The Singles

Harry Styles is an adult now, with a real adult job (and benefits! Whatever those are!). He spends his days at the copier. Copying things.

That being said, no one told Harry that being an adult came with a confusingly chaotic boss, a copier machine that would be hell-bent on ruining his life, and a coworker so good looking that Harry might just have to quit. After all, Christmas is coming and if their office doesn’t win the decorating contest, Louis has threatened to break several laws and kneecaps in retaliation.

Happy Christmas, here’s to many more.

[4] Things Unsaid

"That chunky oversized sweater is like a clown outfit made for winter."

It feels like time slows down.

Those words echo in his mind, familiar. Why are they familiar? The— the sweater he saw last week. The one with all the knit squares.

The train slows to a stop and Louis just— he doesn’t move. He feels frozen in place as people surge around him. Suddenly everyone is moving too fast and then just as suddenly the car is near empty, taking off again.

The man is gone.

His soulmate is gone.

Or, where you have a tattoo of the first thought your soulmate has when they see you.

[punk-in-docs]

🕷 Don’t Need Telling Twice 🕷

Eddie Munson x Reader

10.4k words

Summary: Movie Night at Eddie’s place. All the little things that sneak into the cracks in between new love and affection. So I was intending to get a lot filthier with this but somehow it turned out sweet enough to rot your teeth- Eddie being insecure. Wayne being parental, Pencils being nervous. Let’s see how they iron it out man. (It’s really just me waffling about insight into these two lovebirds)

Saturday morning in your scruffy yet clean kitchen. Stereo cranked high. Melded into your happy place.

The bright slip and drip of the opening guitar licks to ‘Should I stay or should I go.’ Joe’s condescending spitting voice begins. You twirl around with the greased baking sheets in hand.

The kitchen is warm, it’s got this odd glow about it, from the slanted sun gushing in through the cream drapes that have yellow flowers on them. The shabby wood cupboards and the creamy tiles of the breakfast counter with its little peach-pink roses, which is now cluttered with baking trays.

Entirely rose tinted in your view. But you’re blasting the Clash. Loud enough to wake the neighbours.

You’re making cookies for your date tonight. Moms tattered pink apron hanging limp off your body from too many washes. Really it’s a scratchy old thing.

This morning did come around quick. Sunrise like a copper-red wound knifing slashes across the sky. Burning the whole horizon to that fantastic blood orange. You’re too squirmy to sleep. Too excited.

Seeings as you were up early, you put it to use and ran to the store. And now you were knee deep in cookie batter. Chocolate chip. Little starbursts of Cocoa powder and flour dusted everywhere. Head banging, head shaking and hair flicking along to Joe Strummer and his ridiculing tone.

You kick the walnut stained cupboard door closed. It’s wonky and juts out like a stubby tooth snapped off a jaw. It’s always been like that.

Every door in your kitchen creaks. Whines all aged. The appliances have their knacks and sticky tricks that come with years and years worn behind them. Temperamental.

Sure even your whole house is nothing fancy. You’ve never had that much money to scrape together, or give a shit that the whole place is dated. One thing wins favour over all that; your place is cosy.

It’s stuffed with life. Scored deep with it. Consumed. It’s not some ultra chic monotone black-red wasteland. It’s got posters and art on the walls, the crazy bohemian touches that come from your entirely whacky mother.

Sure this house wasn’t all that. But she made it great, and celebrated it in it’s own uniqueness.

Same goes for the best kind of people too. She’d say that to you with a wink.

Handfuls of pennies and some imagination went a long way. Clicking her tongue and shooting you her fierce brand of optimism that seeps out her every pore: eternally unflinching.

A lot of it, this house, echoed its funky warm pattern after the musical, magical, mental, woman who birthed you.

Forever hunting thrift stores for funky things. Weird shaped clocks. The Who posters. 60’s pop art. French Impressionism posters. Stupid cartoon lamps with Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck on the shade. Broken and chipped from the Goodwill but she liked that it wasn’t perfect or level.

She bought prints of famous artworks. Degas. Van Gogh. Millet. Flower drawings, or pressed leaves and flowers behind a sheet of glass. Not one piece of furniture matches in your living room. Or any room. The rugs are old and squishy soft, worn to death. It’s whacky to say the least. But you’d take it over any home they’re always flashing from the interior pages of a magazine.

She has blue daisy pillows on the couches. Always buys godawful cheap lemon candles that are all sugar acidic when they burn. But it cements that scent of home to you now.

There’s no inch of wall space not covered by frames or colour. One day she got up and impulsively painted your kitchen a bright buttery yellow. Just because. Flowers stamped everywhere cause she saw the idea in some hippy book.

And she filled this house with second hand books, too many, spilling over with them. She crammed your home with laughter, and literature, arts, and so many idols of your taste in music came from her.

You wouldn’t trade her for the entire world.

Flighty and bonkers as she is. You hate her being away so often, and with Charlie gone off now with her serious boyfriend, it does chip at you on the sadder days. Being here alone. It gouges just that little bit more when she’s not around.

The days when Linda says something particularly cutting, or times when jocks insults jab just that little too deep. You do miss her then. You can’t hate her for it. her job is a real earner and it makes her so happy. She brings you back souvenirs from every little corner of the globe she’s seen. Postcards. Snow globes.

She trusts you. She always says you’re her favourite kid in the world. That she knows of.

She’s not like some of the other Hawkins Moms you’ve seen. Not at all. The ones who all go to the same lousy hairdresser for the ruler straight highlighted bob. Go to Jazzercise on Thursdays. Hate their ignorant husbands. Wear beige cardigans and chunky gold jewellery and are the queen of boring casseroles and insist their kids be in bed by nine.

Then there’s her. Jagged and wound down and much looser. Etched in coolness. Less controlled - more quirky. Crazy hair even on a good day. Cherry ice cream smile. Young by their standards. Berkeley dropout. Strolling around in her suede fringed jacket and a Patti Smith t-shirt and boot cut jeans.

You’ve always seen the way other moms raised their brows at her appearance. They think she’s trashy. A single mom who dresses and eats and acts the way she does.

Scoffing behind her back at the rhinestone jacket or her vintage cowboy boots. She’s punchy. She doesn’t give two shits. She loves both her kids passionately and would be the first to swing a punch, split her knuckles open for you. Always in your corner. No matter what.

She had you both so young and braved through your dad walking out. Good riddance. He never did have the balls to do the important shit.

She told you that once you were just on the cusp of being old enough to understand why he wasn’t around.

Told you as she wrapped her arms around you and engulfed you in a hug. Smelling like Yves Saint Laurent Paris and gold Newports. She kissed the top of your head.

He couldn’t hack responsibility babe. He had his chance. Too bad he blew it. Cause I happen to think you’re the coolest pair of kids in the world.

She bucked up and scraped money together and it stung a bit sure. Pinched the corners of life at times. But she turned the back of her Brooke Shields shiny hair to the stares she gets in this town. Flipped the bird to those Carol’s and Susan’s who dared to judge her.

Somehow they thought she was a deadbeat mom. But she’s now raised two honour roll kids. First Charlie. Now you.

You’re on track for Indie State. Charlie went to Purdue. She said she’d love you even if you wanted to flip burgers or fix greasy old clunker cars for a living.

The phone shrills out loud as you’re scooping sticky chocolate chip dough into the greased sheets. It clumped between your fingers.

“Hang on.” You call out with no patience to the ringing, as you lean over to pluck it from the wall. Cradle it between your shoulder and ear. Trying to locate a dish rag for your smeared messy hands.

“Yeah.” Figured it would be someone for Mom, or a telemarketer.

“How’s it hangin, Pencils.”

Immediately a grin bursts on your lips. It’s Pavlovian. He smiles. You echo it.

You hear his voice? Ok then. Your stomach flew to bits. All fluttery like confetti.

“Well well well. If it isn’t my favourite metal head.” You say as you balance your trays down. Bumping the counter with your hip.

He chuckles through the phone. You hear the crackle of his exhale. You can picture his smile and it’s doing something to your guts that is just, crazy.

“Hey, c’mon now. Play fair. You never told me you were seeing other metal heads? I bet it’s that lanky haired bastard from the pizza place on Beechwood Drive, in his Slayer tees.” He twirled the old green phone cord around his finger. It clacks around that chunky silver ring of his.

He’s so quick to step up and play around and you love it. You can hear the jokiness layered on his voice. Hear him moving around cause staying still is his worst nightmare. Typical Eddie.

God. Look at you. You’re both twirling the phone cords around your fingers like middle school girls. Crushes thick in your throats and smiles. Choking your hearts fully. Paper airplanes tossed with love notes folded inside. Initials crossed together in a pink love-heart.

“Yeah.” You tease. “But his hair isn’t as great as yours. And don’t you know by now that I’ve got guys lined up around the block. I’ve had to have a ticket booth installed.” You pick up your wooden spoon to mix.

“Oh I’m so sorry, Linda. I thought I rang my pencils.” You hear the soft scuff of his laugh.

“Hang on one second, my lipgloss needs refreshing.” You pout. “And I feel like I should be singing ‘If I only had a brain’.”

He beams and it’s so wide his cheeks hurt.

“That’s not the Wizard of Oz I’m hearing over there pencils, right?” He deciphers.

“Saint Joe of Strummer. Our lord and saviour.” You tell him proudly. Cursing when you splodge a little of the sticky dough on the countertop. Looking around for the dish rag.

“I’m of the Anti-Christ church myself. Ozzy is my devil and I’m bound to obey.” He leers. His voice drops and it slithers between your legs to hear it get deep.

“Mmm. Sounds kinky.” You flirt. Trying your hardest not to drop dough on your bare toes where you’re scooping it to the tray. He’s a great distraction to your focus.

“If you’re into blood play and satanic practices baby, I got some great news for ya.” He fiddles with the empty microwave packets on the kitchen counter.

Chicken pot pie from two nights ago. The Kraft mac n’ cheese that he shovels down like air. Usually scraping it out the pan, eating it with a too big wooden spoon. As he reads a rock magazine at the kitchen counter.

“Sadly no. Dungeon stuff only. Oh and leather. Face masks. Lots of whipping too. And biting.” You tease.

“Hang on. Lemme get a pen and some paper… I’ll make a note…” He rustles around like he’s actually searching for it. Wiry body with the twisted phone cord wrapped around his torso.

You smile at his eagerness to please you.

“I don’t think you need to take notes, Munson. Last time was pretty sensational.” You blush. Mixing your batter and flirt is creeping onto your lips.

“Yeah?” He asks. “Jesus. You’ve no idea. It’s been driving me crazy. I should be committed. Look, I couldn’t even wait til tonight to hear your voice. I-“ He sighs in wanting. His tongue was tripping away from him. He drew back. Worried he was being too much.

He couldn’t wait. He had to call you.

“Munson. You never have to be sorry for calling me.”

Cause, I fucking like you.

“You know, you can call me Eddie. Pencils.”

“First name basis? How brazen.” You rib.

“Yeah, later on I was planning to show you my ankles. Risqué or what?” He flirts. You chuckle.

He’s wandering over to the window and flicking the curtain aside with his fingertips to see the same old drab and murky Forest Hills staring back at him.

“What would the village elders say-“ You gasp. “My reputation will be in tatters.”

“Not possible. Your name isn’t Linda.”

“I may have to kiss you for that one.” You warn.

“I’m very open to that.” He says very quickly. Twirling a packet of reds around the shiny surface of the table. Considering lighting one up. The rush of your voice is his nicotine until he hangs up.

You close a cupboard door and Eddie’s ears perk at the sound. “Learning drums over there?” He seeks.

“I’m baking.” You offer up.

Phone at your shoulder and between your ear still as you mix the dough with your other hand to fold in the chocolate chips. Shaking the packet and watching the chips fall. Plinking into the thick batter. It’s very messy and clumsily done.

“Tell me you’re wearing a tiny pink Betty Crocker apron?” He all but purrs down the phone. Licking his lips.

“It’s pink and frilly.” You drawl.

“Mmm. More-“ He rasps down directly down the phone. Grinning. Holds it right to his mouth to talk louder into the receiver.

“Pretty heels too. Lacquered hair like Donna Reed. Whole shebang.”

“Fuck.” He twirls hair around his finger. Almost bites down on his skull ring.

“The images in my head are so unmatched right now. You’ve no idea.” He charms.

“Damn.” He moans again. It’s low and it strikes a direct chord with your pussy.

Shit. You’ve had delicious filthy dreams about those moans. Your hands on that hard dick of his.

“Yeah and don’t forget my strand of pearls.” You grin.

He splutters. Oh he could give you pearls if you wanted them. It’s what he’s been dreaming of.

Such a horny boy.

“You’re the perfect date you know. Kinky as fuck, into whipping and leather. But pearls and baking.”

“You don’t even know what I’m baking-“

“You say pot brownies pencils, I’m gonna go out right this second and buy a goddamned ring.”

“Remember the four C’s. Colour. Clarity. Carat. Cut.”

“Shit. You want a diamond? Hmm I was thinking more along the lines of a pop ring. More in my budget. Or maybe something out the claw machine in the arcade.” He bargains.

“I like a man who puts in the effort. And, hey I’m not picky. I’ll take it. Diamonds are way overrated anyhow.” You decide.

“And just to lay your mind at rest I’m making Extra Chocolate, chocolate chip cookies.”

He cradled his aching throbbing heart. Hand splayed over his chest. Made a groaning noise like he was mortally wounded. A crackle of the sigh rattled the phone.

“Alright. You’re officially too good for me. I’m gonna have to hang up.” He jokes. You laugh.

You really hope he doesn’t.

“Don’t do that.” You ask quietly. “I need to talk to someone sensate. I beg of you.” You urge. “I had to listen to Linda bitch all the way home on Friday about how low fat ice cream sucks, and how much she wants to bang James Spader in Pretty in Pink.”

“Wow that really says a lot about her taste in guys.” He commented. She really was Tiffany-twisted, that girl. Wrapped up in her own over groomed looks, bouncy blonde curls, and sex life. Lived by rules out of Cosmo magazine and fad diets.

“My ears wanted to commit suicide by the time I got home. Thank god cause as I got out the car she started to mention the words sleepover and boyfriend and I just about had the sanity to slam the car door, before anymore came out.”

“Wise move baby.” He beamed.

You preened at the nickname that did dirty things. Finally you now had the cookies ready for the oven.

“Alright...” You clunked the wooden mixing spoon down. “First wave of troops going in. I’ll you know their condition after battle. Hopefully they make a worthy addition to our night as I am trying to impress you with my passably mediocre baking skills.” You charm.

“Hey don’t practice too hard now. You know us guys like em stoopid.” He puts on a southern-belle twang.

“If you can navigate yawself round a tree girlie. Keep on walkin. Them slick city fellers can have ya.” He drawls.

Your laugh makes his whole mood hop into giddy.

“You’re such a goof.” You smile. He couldn’t wait to see that grin of yours in person again. In a mere handful of hours-

“I didn’t need another incentive to be impressed by you, pencils...” He smiles. Tone slipping back into genuine. “Already there.” He offers.

Before you can respond. Hurricane Munson struck elsewhere.

“And uh, Whatever condition those troops are in. I’ll take it. I’m not picky either. Charlie. Tango. Bravo.”

“Good.” You answer. Twiddling with the corner of the dish cloth. Fondness settled like warm oozy mush on your chest. Inescapable.

You could spend hours down the phone listening to Eddie crack his jokes. Twirl around. Get distracted. Put on stupid drama club voices like he was at Hellfire

“There aren’t trees in the way of your trailer are there? Cause I won’t be able to navigate round them all on my own.” You joke in reference to his earlier remark.

“You’re the perfect lady.” He sighs in a sweet hum.

“Oh and uh, I picked the movies for tonight.” He suddenly announced. Sounding cheeky. Brimming with it.

“Yeah?” You asked with inflection. “Yeah.” He answered. With none.

“You’re not gonna tell me are you?” You clued up.

“Leave me to have my wicked wicked fun.”

“VHS tease.” You complained all snarky.

“Scoot your pretty ass over here and come see for yourself you coward.” He dares. Tongue tipped out between his smiling teeth.

“Six still good?” You check. Up on your tiptoes and swirling around the tiled floor. Stomach swooping with anticipation.

“Golden.” He answers.

“Guess I’ll see you then. I’ll be the one in the skirt.”

He sucks air through his teeth. “Ah same here. I hope we don’t clash.”

“Bye, Edward.” You joke. He gasps.

“Mm. Definitely gonna have to let you see my ankles now.” Comes his voice. Smile traced on it. You could tell.

“I’m counting the minutes.” You dip your voice low.

“See ya.” He parts. Slinging the phone back into it’s cradle on the wall. Smile charged to megawatt from your conversation. He wants to twirl and flip his hair. Goddamnit. He couldn’t keep still.

Then he drags his eyes to his surroundings. The crushed beer cans crumpled up on the kitchen counter, and the coffee table. The overflowing ashtrays. Trash in the kitchen. The dishes. The laundry strewn sofa. The dust- he chews his lip.

It was like he was seeing this place through fresh eyes. And it needed rectifying. He rolled up his sleeves.

Shit. He needed to hustle.

~

It was fair to say Wayne and Eddie had to grow used to living with each other.

The veil of constancy was Eddie’s safety blanket when it came to the gruff and earnestly stoic man, that was Wayne Munson; he pretty much remained himself. Didn’t change much.

Liked his bacon crispy. Made a peach cobbler that would blow your socks off til next Tuesd ay, but couldn’t assemble a sandwich neatly at all. Used to drive big semi trucks across the states. Did the crossword in the Hawkins Gazette. Adored Billie Holiday. Collected comical mugs. Liked strong coffee with cinnamon and had a dislike for cilantro. Loved old spaghetti westerns and that twanging soft country music he always hums too, which had carved space out of his soft-soppy Tennessee heart.

He had hatred for people with nasty gossiping sniping souls. Ugliness born inside, he thinks people don’t ever shift it on or lose that. He worked his fingers to the bone for the modest home and the little money they raked by on. He was unfailingly honest and generous. He had few words to give. He was Eddie’s weather-beaten yet reliable rock.

Eddie can imagine that Wayne getting to know him was more of a challenge; tricky to navigate; herding cats, walking on-knives-and-eggshells kind of difficult. How do you get to know someone when their character is set on shifting sand?

Thing is. Eddie never really changed that much.

He’s still the starry-eyed kid leaping on the couch, shredding air guitar to Metallica in filthy sneakers cause the moment just ran away with him. He’s the one making a huge show of not stepping on cracks in the pavement cause he’s down enough as it is. Not breaking mirrors, ever, and picking up sidewalk spilt pennies. And apologising and stepping over weeds in the trailer lot. Not trampling them underfoot.

Eddie was still the boy inside that felt bad for struggling weeds. The one to feel sorry for a squashed little dandelion.

Wayne wrenched open this home to this kid as a stranger. Barbs and shame-wrapped guilt set in his heart that he didn’t know his brothers own kid better than he did. He kept to his lane. He stayed out the way of his brothers numerous convictions. Remained a stranger to trouble.

But then, when need came knocking; he offered up, no questions asked. The way a bird offered the gentle lift of their wing, to something foreign needing shelter, in a warm bramble nest, from the raging storm.

Eddie will never forget the first words he heard out of Wayne’s mouth. Around the corner of some bland police precinct. Warm. Firm. Dependable.

“He’s my family. He’s blood. That’s enough. Kindly let me see him.”

He didn’t regret stepping up to bat for one minute. Maybe he’s grouchy and he’d never fully ‘get’ or approve of everything his nephew did, or enjoyed. But he didn’t chew him out, or pick at him for it.

He learned what flavour pop tarts Eddie liked best for breakfast. When he needed sleep or help. When he needed space. When to warn him to watch his attitude, or his mouth, or manners, and when to back off. Parental things.

Eddie was a stale eyed kid when he first met Wayne. Perhaps innocent and maybe just jaded enough to see beyond the rose-tinted prism of childhood. He was jaggedy-rough round the edges and not worn into himself yet. Caught up in the hard knocks of social care and down-and-out on his luck, as a mostly unwanted eight year old. That stuck some nasty pins in his ego pretty early on.

Wayne could see how Eddie kept expecting to be shuffled on elsewhere. Big shining eyes that a puppy would envy under a scruff mop of hair. Clutching all he had for dear life. His scruffy collection of tattered comics and stubby pencils and half broken toys.

Kept looking around the trailer like he shouldn’t get too attached. Sat gingerly on the edge of the sagging bed. Shouldn’t make mess or get comfy. Cause soon, he’ll have to pack his scrappy things into that sad cardboard box and eek out a wobbling lipped goodbye. Sad that home hadn’t stuck, again.

Eddie kept that empty scruffy little box sat in the bottom of his closet for six months. Just in case.

Wayne threw that box right in the trash.

Bought him a beat up old turntable. Put a shelf up in his room and a stood a few second hand fantasy paperback books on it. Bought him a few new things that didn’t belong to someone else first.

Wayne watched Eddie fall into stability. To learn how to put roots down. Grow steady and then in quick spurts, into who he was. In that way kids do. The way they grow into clothes that were too big. Shoes that would eventually fill out to fit their steps.

He watched the love of music come blasting in. Middle school. Rolling Stones magazines. Catching Black Sabbath on the radio one day. The appreciation for that loud thrashing dirty-steel rock he now loves. The one that ran vein deep. His idols with the crazy scruffy long hair. He discovered Ozzy and Axl, Judas Priest and Lemmy.

Watched him sew on badges that he bought for pennies at dime stores, and get bloody fingertips cause he really was useless at needlework. Found his signature rings at a cool vintage place outta state. Watched him saw off the arms of his denim jacket and come home with a swing in his step and a DIO shirt from the goodwill - a twinkle in his eye. Determination threaded in this burgeoning passion. Tip of the iceberg.

A plan Wayne. I have a well executed, thorough plan. Foolproof.

Mmmhmm. Is this gonna end up exactly like the last plan you had, kid?

Let’s find out.

Gone from the sweet boy who was too scared of everything, and everyone boring, and being judged, and now he’s turned inside out, full circle, to become this genuinely sweet young man, who turned against that boring tide of beige normalcy.

Eccentric and whirly with the unfocused energy that never burned out. Dynamite blaze kid. Even when he tried to hide scrapes on his knees, and raw knuckles. A shiner that he let his shaggy fringe cover, from an attempt to fight and claw back.

He still gave Wayne that shocking toothy grin with a fat lip and a busted nose, cause he was actually stupid proud of himself - and the way he stuck up for some freshman. The tiny nerdy one who had a carton of milk poured over his head by the meat head jocks. Having pages ripped out his science textbooks by them and spread to the wind like leaves.

Eddie sat beside the newbie with bleeding raw knuckles, cracked jokes, sellotaped those torn pages back together - wonky. Just to show that someone out there, cared.

The smiles became armour, devil horns and Gene Simmons tongue. The hair started to grow out into rioting curls. Doe eyes glinted promiscuity; to those who didn’t know him well enough to know there was no shred of malice anywhere in him.

Eddie collected parts of himself, the way someone would laundry plucked off the line- like the badges and pins he secured on his chest and flashed around for fun.

He found his first DND board and his dice at a yard sale. And then came that sweet head-muzzy strain of Colombia gold, and Reefer Rick and light frothy cans of beer on an empty stomach. He found acceptance. Ripped jeans and scuffed knees. The exquisite pin pricks of a scratchy tattoo the day he turned 18. Asked if he could wear the old sagging leather jacket he found hung in the back of the closet, from Wayne’s younger and more hip days.

The way he went full bonkers-gaga over seeing his 24 fret NJ warlock in the window of a music store in town. Bursting big heart eyes over it and saving up for months. Awfully tempted by the idea of some piercing, somewhere, but nearly fainted when he got in the shop. So that was the end of that. He founded Hellfire and he protected his fellow freaks. Scraped together his high school band.

Collected the little lost sheepies in armfuls, in bunches, so that no one within his reaches would ever have to sit and console that festering hungry chasm of being an unwanted kid, with nowhere to turn.

Cause Eddie knew well enough, it was a bottomless gremlin pit with gnashing teeth, and it would take take take as long as you bothered to feed it.

And all that learning and comfiness, and living, now it currently tapered down to Wayne not being at all surprised, by watching his nephew shaking frail little spindly spiders out into the doormat, talking soothingly to them.

Shooing them out off the glossy pages of his rock music magazine. Telling them to get used to the brave new world of Forest Hills outside these four walls.

“-And kudos by the way for eating the flies. Appreciate you for that. Sorry I’ll have to take down those cobwebs. Consider this your eviction notice.” As he jimmied the last one off the paper and it crinkled noisily. Bracelet on his wrist jingling.

Wayne is peering over the shield of his paper. Coffee steaming away in a chipped Snoopy mug by his side. Cigarette dangling from his fingers. Watching Eddie crouch right at the mouth of the trailer door. Holding it open and watching the insects lope away in new brave directions.

Pieces of clarity started to to swim together when he takes a look at Eddie’s clothes.

Different to his normal threads on a Saturday night; Either he’s kicking his feet into reeboks, shouldering on his leathers and vest to go out a party at some place, and come back reeking of grass and beer breath. Or; he’s shuffling around in his thread bare plaid pyjama pants and a ratty AC/DC tee, asking what’s for dinner through a smeary eyed yawn.

This is neither; he straightened up to go and neatly return the magazine to his room, as opposed to throwing it down to rest in any old place. Odd.

Wayne took notice of his clothes. Black jeans that were suspiciously clean of ash stains or frayed knee holes. His long sleeved black skull tee rolled up to his elbows, ink on display. Chest blazoned with a band name he’s never heard of, and down the sleeve too in gothic red. His hair was all fluffed up - like he’d finally discovered what a comb was.

Eddie saunters back into the room. Flitting from place to place. Shoving beer cans in a bulging garbage bag. Along with empty crushed food packets that he left out. Sweeping crumbs off the counter with his bare hands. Probably over the floor but the effort was there- picking cigarette butts off the floor that he was careless enough to drop.

And Wayne didn’t even have to shoot his usual look, clearing his throat at him, about that nasty habit. He was clearing up entirely on his own. Without prompt.

He was rushing. Rushing was the antithesis of Eddie’s speed. A thin film of sweat on his brow under that choppy lollop of a fringe. He’s crammed garbage bags full. Shoving stuff inside.

Says something under his breath that sounds like “shit” as he darts back into his room. Wallet chain jangling behind him. Socked feet thudding softly on the carpets.

He keeps an ear open for what sounds like commotion. Frantic tidying. The shuffling of clothes by the armful. Closet doors shutting with a thwack. He talks to his guitar as he hums and tidied.

“I know I know. Sweetheart. I should have done this earlier. Don’t look at me like that…”

He rounds up his dirty clothes and does a sniff test - again. That was the third time tonight.

Movement clattering along the hall. Socked feet storm back to the washer. He’s stuffing an armful of mostly all black clothing into it like he’s trying to dispose of body parts in there. Ramming in so much he has to shut the door quick.

“Rat bastard.” He hissed after he shook the dream fresh laundry powder in and slams it shut. Punches it for good measure. His rings clack on the metal-metal contact. Shook his fist out I n the air cause that hurt more than he thought it would.

Now he’s back to the trash bags in the kitchen. Looping them up and walking across the door to dump them outside in the garbage cans. Hopping across the sharp gravel in socked feet like a jumping hare.

Wayne sees that determined set in his brow as the door snaps open and back in slams Eddie at a million miles a second. Frowning at everything he sees. Sloped brows. Mouth curled into a grimace.

He comes to empty the overflowing ashtray on the coffee table near Wayne. Well, it was an old soup can that somehow turned into an ashtray. Annoyed that he missed it. Muttering to himself. Scooping away dust. It was like watching a one man ant farm.

This led to him now being stood on the couch, suddenly reorganising the shelf behind it. Batting cobwebs away from mugs and wiping a hand on his jeans.

“Jesus. I mean how dusty is this place?” Eddie asks to no one in particular. Not expecting an answer.

Silence. Rustling.

Wayne folds up his paper and nicely slaps it down on the arm beside him. Folds his hands in his lap. “Eddie.”

Eddie turns around like a doe eyed deer caught in semi headlights. Twisted at the waist. Back of his shirt riding up over his lithe waist. Peek of his back and his plaid red boxer band showing over the back of his jeans.

The bony notches of his spine poke through skin where he’s leaning over. He blinks owlishly at his uncle. One foot braced on the back of their elderly moth-eaten couch.

“What the hell you doin?” Wayne asks with kind bewilderment. Shaking his head at his kid.

“Spring cleaning?”

Wayne’s eyes narrow as he lifts his hand up and sucks on his cigarette. “Sure?” He checks.

“No?” Comes the answer. Carefully. Wincing. Wayne takes a breather.

“There’s cobwebs. And, dust.” He explained. Pointing to the wall before him. “Look see, dust.”

“Why the sudden aptitude for household chores there, huh?” Wayne asks as he nurses his cooling coffee.

To his shame they don’t exactly keep the place pristine. He tries his best, but on some days work takes it clean outta him. Eddie’s room resembled a garbage tip bomb-site most likely.

Eddie swallows. “You know. Just- some light maintenance.” He shrugs. That was the most plausible answer his brain spat out upfront.

“On a Saturday night?”

“I’m um, totally slammed on Sunday.” He admits. Clapping off his hands.

“Kid. How stupid do you think I am. Because frankly, all I’ve seen, is all I need to see. If you get my drift.”

Eddie turns away and continues his frantic cleaning. Polishing a mug with his shirt sleeve.

“I have… guests… coming over tonight.” If he makes it plural maybe he can get away with it.

“Your DND club.” Wayne guesses. This earns a snort from the metalhead.

“I once saw Gareth eat pizza off the canteen floor. Like I’d bother dusting here for those doofuses.” He grins.

“Then question remains; who are you dusting, and laundry-doing and taking out the spiders for?” Wayne leans forward and asks. Scratching the stubble at the side of his grizzled jaw.

Eddie clings to silence. Which he never does. Never ever does this boy exist without noise bursting out his mouth. Looks like a sheepish kid again.

Wayne’s gaze meets his. ‘Well?’

Cause he would support whomever Eddie chose to bring home. Girl or boy, or undecided. He’s no dummy. He’s got eyes in his head. He’s seen things. The little quirky tics in Eddie’s character when he likes someone. He knows his kid pretty darn well enough by now.

“A girl.” Eddie concludes turning away, like it was casual, cool, and nothing to get worked up over. No biggie. Just… the girl of my dreams. So what? I can be casual about this. It’s totally fine. And normal. Normally fine.

“A girl.” Wayne nods.

“Change this record. It’s skipping.” Eddie leers. Pointing a funny wagging finger at his relative.

“This girl. She royalty or something.”

Eddie cuts a look. It’s just bordering on grumpy and peeved.

“Listen, she ain’t coming to inspect the place or audit us. A little dust and clutter isn’t gonna put her off spending time with you, now is it.”

Eddie sighs. Itched the back of his head. Screwed his eyes shut.

“No. See man. I wanted to be presentable. Cause when she walks in this trailer, she’s gonna be expecting me to look and act like sleazy, greasy trailer trash. And I just. Wanna-“ he clenched his fists.

“Just wanna be….presentable.” He mumbled. Repeating. As he softly scuffed the couch arm with his foot. He sighed. Rubbed a dusty knuckle in his eye until stars scrawled black and bursting.

“Goddd. Look at me. I’ve showered twice. And I untangled the knots out my hair. I used that fancy bar soap I got for xmas that smells like lemons. I brushed my teeth for a whole two minutes. May have used a splash of your cologne. That stung like hell by the way.” He added naughtily. Pinching the collar of his shirt in two fingers and flapping it up and down to cool himself off.

“I’m sweaty. My hair feels itchy. I don’t know what I’m gonna say. She’s gonna be stunning, and awesome and I feel like I’m having a heart seizure or probably a stroke over here. I don’t know man. Fuck-“

Wayne let’s him get it out. As he’s learned with Eddie sometimes it’s best. He often just needed a ramble. To let his tongue lash til he ran dry.

He kicked the couch again. Harder. Still standing up tall on it.

“What’s she like, this girl. She into the same kinda stuff as you?” Wayne enquired.

It dipped muzzily into his big soft heart seeing Eddies mouth hooked right up into a petite smile when he asked about you. One side curls.

“No she’s, uh, she likes Punk music and Bowie, Talking Heads, Billy Idol, and like, you should hear her, she talks about all these artists and shit I’ve never heard of. It’s amazing-“

She’s entirely too good for the likes of me.

“She’s so cool. Effortlessly cool y’know?- And creative?! She likes scary movies and she works in the record store. She hates jocks. I cannot believe she’s actually bothering to look twice at a moron like me. Super senior, King of the freaks.” He jabs his fingers into his bony skull clad chest.

Because Eddie didn’t think it was exactly a secret that flunk out’s like him, were never exactly crawling in babes, or cramming in dates on the weekends.

“I really like her.” He mumbled openly. Wiping palms on his jeans. That’s what this effort all whittled down too.

He couldn’t meet Wayne’s eyes as he said it. It seemed to good to be true. His hopes were so little. Floundering seeds.

He wanted this to go well. He whirled his eyes elsewhere and fidgeted through his words. Typical Eddie.

“I gathered as much from your general-“ Wayne waved his hand around in the air of the living room and towards the kitchen “…Running round. Giving me whiplash just watching you, kid.” He stubs out his cigarette.

Eddie stays where he is. Stood couch top. Absorbing the information Wayne fed him.

“Why don’t you get down from there. Leave the dusting the hell alone. And just relax.” He soothes. Always a balm to the frizzy fraying nerves.

Eddie looks like it could be a trap if he dares to let himself chill out. You say it like it’s easy.

“She must like you to come all the way out here to spend time with you. Just be yourself. I guarantee you, that’s what she’s interested in. Not the state of this place.” He shifts in his chair and groans a little. Adjusts his legs.

Eddie let’s out a huff. Slumps down the sofa and throws his body onto it. Crazy hair flicking after he moved. It’s fluffier too. Some lame attempt at his own hands to pretty it up from its usual insanity.

“What you guys planning on doing?” He seeks. Sips his coffee. Distraction worked well, too. He often found.

“Ordering pizza and watching a couple movies.” Eddie says up to the ceiling. Scanning for cobwebs. Fiddling with the rings on one hand. One knee twitching up and down.

He had the stack of videos ready on top of the TV. Night of the Living Dead. Nightmare on Elm Street. And then Ghostbusters for something undeniably cheesy. The microwave popcorn in the kitchen. A number for the pizza place hemmed in on the fridge with magnets, as per usual.

Wayne makes a soft noise at the back of his throat at hearing that. A smile creeps on his lips. He idly reads the folded back of his paper.

“What?” Eddie quizzes.

Wayne’s smile grows if anything.

“I may be an old man. But I was young once. I do happen to know what that means.” He stared Eddie down in that parental way.

“You’re gonna be careful with this girl, right. Safe sex ain’t no joke.”

That did it.

“Aww man, c’mon.” Eddie choked, cringing, as he launched himself up out the sofa and quickly scurried away like a jangly pillar of goth black missile. Aimed sharpish in another direction.

“It’s a first date, by the way. I’m not gonna be breaking out the condoms and whistles and bells here.” He lets out.

He’s shaking his head and losing himself in the confines of his room. Music is softly shredding out the low stereo. Alice Coopers ‘Welcome to my Nightmare’ sneers softly into his room. He cranks it up.

Wayne stood up. Smiling and shaking his head in making his kid cringe. Gathering his things for work. Walking to the kitchen slowly to empty the dregs of his cup. Leave it in the sink for later. He grabs his things as he walks on past the front door. Heavy work boots crushing soft on the carpets and then the lino.

He walks right up to Eddie’s door, peers into the clustered metal gilded mess of his room.

Shocked to notice he could actually see the floor. And the raunchy pin ups were safely shepherded away inside the closet. The playboy magazines he pretends he doesn’t know about shoved under the bed. The dresser and side tables were still messy as. There’s been an attempt at making the bed. The sheets are straightened and tucked in.

“Listen now, you’re 20 year old man, and you have a zipper. I won’t say any more than that. But you best play it safe. Y’hear?”

“NO.” Eddie fairly shrieks.

“Not listening anymore.” Comes the answer as he faffs around and pretends to be busy with some things in his closet.

“Eddie.” Wayne smiles.

He turns back around and stands up. Expression of limited enthusiasm.

“Wayne. I am the town fuck up in a lot of ways. But not in this way.” He marched back to his bedside. Throws the blue Trojan condom packet up in the air and catches it. A silent ‘see?’

His uncles brow crooks up. Shuffling his wallet into his jeans. Pulling on his heavy fleece lined denim jacket. “Jeez. Those things still in date?”

Eddies face falls.

“They expire?” He flips the packet and looks at the back.

“Lord. I am gettin out of here. Save me some pizza would ya.” Wayne dismisses with a shake of his old head.

This high school romance thing was better left a young man’s game.

~

Eddie thinks he forgets how to breathe, when the buttery headlights of your car slant into the big window of the trailer.

He poked his head out the door earlier. The air is cool out tonight. Hung with moisture, so thick you could sip at it. Icy cold like a dirty clear martini. The kind of night that bloats up and leaves the taste of wet grass on your tongue.

The headlights are a sobering neon yellow under the cushy spring night that was churning slowly in dregs and streaks, to a violet. Lilac bathed air punched with cold. One of those night slow nights that gets slipped into dark majesty, and the stars cluster bright like winking pearls.

Eddie’s eyes have been on the windows for an hour. He’s paced groves in this thick matted carpet, he’s sure of it. Eyes set on the windows like he’s on a mission. Trying not to chew his nails. Got him acting like a pound mongrel waiting for their owner to come home.

The car lights flick off. Engine cuts dead.

And now he can hear the slam of your car door. His heart rockets into overdrive with scary amounts of adrenaline and stabbing excitement that will, he’s sure, undeniably make a moron out of him before then night is out.

You’re stepping up the creaky porch. He knows those snaps and shifts of the old steps. You’re knocking on his door.

He takes a deep breath. Fills his crappy sentimental lungs, that he placated with a cigarette, twenty ache filled minutes ago.

He cannot open the door fast enough, and the sight of you the other side, roundhouse whirls into his chest. Smacks right between the ribs. Fists him by the front of his t-shirt and yanks-

You’re like that song Wayne hums and taps his feet too, when he makes eggs on a Sunday mo rning. ‘Like being hit by a falling tree, woman, woman what you do to me.’

“Ah woman bearing beer. You’re definitely welcome inside.” He grins. Leaning against his door.

He thinks he keeps on imagining how pretty you are. But here you stand with the cheap orange light of the trailer washing back over you, haloing your body like a wash of heaven, and he’s gotta remember not to stare.

You’ve brushed this smoky-sparkly purple eyeshadow on. Nightshade purple like the sky out tonight. Big lashes all dark too. Your lips are pink shiny and glossy. (You so totally stole a tube from Linda, naughty pencils)

You’re wearing a brown corduroy skirt and a black polo neck. Long brown leather boots up to your calves. Your hair is so silky. Eyes shimmering this angel honey warmth at him.

You’re holding an eggshell coloured plate of Saran-wrapped cookies. Piled high and dark chocolate. In your other hand you have a six pack of coors and something else-

“Best part?” You begin.

You hold something up, tilt your head and there’s that smile.

The thing you hold, it’s all canine teeth and fake tufts of hair. Two triangle ears. Tacky acetic smell of plastic. “For the Heist.”

A wolf man mask. A smile leaps onto his lips.

“You think of everything.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Got yours I hope Pencils?” He asks with a levelled look as he widens the door for you to step in.

“It’s in the car. Messes up my hair.” You shrug. You climb up the last uneven wedge of a step and move to come inside.

“Hey.” You smile. He liked that you goofed around first. Went traditional greeting second.

“Hey back.” He said softly. Pretty smile all wide. Espresso dark eyes fixed unendingly on your face.

You nervously chew your lip and gaze down. You want to lean over and kiss his cheek but didn’t want to overstep or be weird about it.

You clunkily flounder on the doormat. Self doubt lingers on your fingertips. You wish you could just escape into the confidence to lean over and kiss him like you did the other night. But then you had a belly of vodka and Dutch courage backing you up.

Decide hand him over the plate of cookies. He can smell the cocoa and sugar sneaking out when he takes the thing off you. “For you-“ you gift.

“Troops made it. Well done boys.” It makes you chuckle. Wiggles the plate in one hand and talks to the cookies.

“Hope you got a sweet tooth. I made so many.”

“Always.” He answers to your enquiry. “My diet is 98% Oreos and mini powdered donuts.” He beams.

You nudge the beers in your hand too. “Fridge?”

He takes them off you gently. “Yeah, here, gimme.” He bundled them up and stepped past you. The door snapped shut behind him and you took in the space as Eddie padded to the fridge.

You smile as you gaze around the walls. The scratchy orange curtains. The warmness of the lamps splashing up light. A very well beloved couch and all the mug keepsakes and hats on the walls. It’s cosy. It’s a home. Capital H. Just like yours. You can see that from one glance.

The Campbell’s soup can used as an ashtray cause the actual red glass ashtray next to it was overflowing with pocket junk. The plaid shirts yet to be ironed, crumpled somewhat clumsily in a laundry basket. Some sepia family pictures tacked to the space above the counter where the sun won’t bleach them. The red pansy pattern on the sofa that clashes with the lone saggy yellow throw pillow. The marbled malty brown carpet.

A place that sure wasn’t fancy, but had character and warmth in swathes more than anything designer and clinical green money could buy. It’s a sagging trailer sure, no hiding that. But you imagine with a cold shower of outside patting at the roof, these friendly yellow walls would swallow you up in their charming blanket of old cigarettes, male cologne and powder dreamy detergent. Some scratchy record playing blues and a snuggly throw on that couch, it would be a sort of enclosing haven.

“It’s uh- not much. But… a place to crash or to hang your hat, as Wayne says.” Eddie trails off. Setting the cookies on the counter. Nodding in jest towards the numerous baseball caps.

“I like it. Honestly. You should see my house. Moms hippy-bohemian posters and pretty strange sense of interior decor reigns strong.” You tell him.

“I’d like to see that.” He says as he clunks beers in the ancient whirring fridge. You smile over at him. You nod and share eye contact.

“Come through the front door this time though, perhaps. Save your ass from that thorny rose bush.” You encourage warmly.

“Awh. You’re worried about the state of my ass.” He preens. Leans against the counter and gives you moony eyes.

“Damn right. Someone’s got to be.” You answer back.

“Thank heaven it’s you.” He simpers. Smile

Slowly crawls up and your stomach warms all dizzy. You bite your lip.

“Drink?” He offers. Hands splayed over the counter. “We got Pepsi, ginger ale.”

“Actually, a beer would be great.” You nod. Cold buzz light give you some courage to finally bump your mouth to those soft sweet lips you adore. And had missed.

You should have done it tonight the second he opened the door. Damn politeness. You should’ve sprung on him.

“Two beers. Coming up.” He grins. Drums the counter with open slaps of his hands. Dives for the fridge.

You unzip your boots. Worried about getting wet marks on the floor.

“Princess. Your shoes are probably cleaner than this carpet.” Eddie explains wryly from behind the fridge.

Coming back to see you standing into the mushy carpet in your bare feet. Painted toes mulberry purple. Sparkles glitter gritty over the deep paint.

“It’s the principle of the thing now, Munson.” You say as you toe them off. Stuff your socks inside. You place them by the door and wander over to the jut of the counter. Standing the other side looking at him. His skin itches and leaps with the realisation of your smiling at him. He more than likes it.

He’s got the beers before him. Cracking them open. The fizz and the hoppy mist. He slides yours on over for you to catch like a saloon bar in a western.

“Mi’lady” He says as he raises his can up for you to crash them together in a toast. A tinny clank where you toast. His rings clack on the side of the can.

“Thank you, gallant Knight.” You flatter. After taking back a cold hop filled sip.

It makes you think of that slanted drunken time in Kyle’s garden. Sharing polite sips of a warm beer. Stealing glances under fringes and sparing longing looks.

You watch his brows raise with surprise at your choice of title. “And here, I thought I was the jangly belled jester dude. Or the scrawny but lovable bard.” He grins all toothy.

“Fraid not. You’re my Knight in shining DIO vest.” You tell him.

If you had to, you’d rearrange the entire solar system by hand to see the sight of Eddie Munson blush again the way he is now. His cheeks full with it.

He scratches the back of his neck and looks like he wants to twirl away and hide in his hair all bashful.

“You rescued me from the pack of Ogres and brought me healing Campbells aid. Not to mention some very seriously delicious behaviour in a closet.” You played along. Fiddling your fingertips along the edge of the counter. “That’s Knightly behaviour, my guy.” You nod.

“You’d be ok with being my maiden then, huh?” He can’t ignore the very bloated intent behind those words. Chews the inside of his lower lip. He can taste beer and he’s so aching to kiss you again.

“More than ok.” You met his longing brown gaze. Those melty eyes standing stark under that chippy fringe. “Hey, as long as you don’t think I’m the Dragon. I’m fine with whatever.” You hold your hands up.

His smile brightens. “I think we all know who the dragon is, pencils.”

You laugh.

His heart swoons.

And then it twirls somewhere different. He looks intent. Like he wants to grab something but can’t. Pent up. Like he’s digging fingers into the counter to keep from something else.

“Ok, excuse the shit outta me but, fuck it, I should have done this the second I saw you tonight.”

He suddenly bursts into movement around the counter. You follow where he rounds it in record time. Chain jangling. Socked feet padding the floor.

Emotions are chunky jagged things that can’t contain him. Slip off his body like oil slick. Beat off him like rain bouncing off concrete. It can’t contain him or maybe it’s the other way around.

He comes your side and you can barely have a breath before he’s cupped your neck either side, so gentle, and pushed his lips onto yours in a kiss so sweet it made your brain wipe blank.

His body cages you back into the counter. Tile top digging the back of your waist. Your hands flounder for a second. You smile to his lips before your hands come to his back. His belt buckle jams to your skirt and it makes your stomach flutter with want.

He tastes the same and it’s a flavour you’re oddly fascinated by. Smoky brush and hoppy beer. Maybe a little acrid but you don’t mind it. So traditionally Eddie it makes your knees wobble.

His thumb is soft on the line of your jaw. Savours the way He languidly kisses you out of breath. He swallows a sugary clasp of a little gasping noise you made. Wants more- more more more of them. He’s caught in your orbit and never wants to fall out of this clutch of your gravity.

Tastes the gloss off your mouth and he prays you don’t think him a massive perverted creep for this.

When you break for air, his lips don’t wander far. Spit wet and near yours and now he’s wearing sugar high pink gloss too. His nose lays along the line of yours.

“Sorry-“ He gasps.

He may have short circuited your brain with that kiss. Glitched something out for sure.

“I don’t see what sorry has to do with that.” You murmur softly. Leaning up to brush your nose into his. Try to contain this harsh vein buzz he’s got going in you.

“Inviting you over to my trailer and mauling you.” He gasps as he rakes a soft brush of hair off your cheek. Back tenderly behind your soft ear.

You push on your tiptoes. Capture his mouth in a slowly melting peck. Hand sliding across his cheek. Palming a cheekbone. Fingertips nesting in that dry wild mane.

“I don’t mind a little mauling.” You explain. He rests his hands on your hips with a self satisfied chuckle. Thumbs stroking the waistband of your skirt.

“Not very Knightly.” He quipped. Going dumb the way you plucked kisses at his mouth in-between his attempts to speak.

“Chastity is overrated. I’m not waiting in a fucking tower to protect my virtue.” You tell him.

You’ve got his fucking chest skipping and his heart is on the roof of his mouth. Cheeks ache from smiling.

He holds your waist like he’s afraid you’ll move or drift away. Ridiculous. You’ve patiently waited to get here. You’re not budging. Eyes set on yours. The wet gloss glimmer of your lips and those eyes he pathetically wants to stare into like he’s discovered a new form of Eden.

“I can’t believe I didn’t work up the courage to talk to you sooner.” Bursts out his mouth before he can stop it. A shy little confession that he feels very nerdy to have given a voice too.

“Wanna know something?” You tell him all softly. Stroking over the wavy tips of those choppy bangs.

“If not guess I’ll just kiss it outta you…” He decides. Eyes dizzily on your lips. His hips sway into you and he tilts his head to plant a sweet kiss at the corner of your mouth.

“I think I had a crush on you from the very second you got sat behind me in history class.” You explain.

You couldn’t help it. There you were all wrapped and stirred up in your love of punk and anarchy. And then in walks this crazy, messy leather clad and metal dipped kid with doe eyes and trouble stroked deep into his smile. The frenzy and the non-conformity. Clutched you good.

“Why do you think I always tapped on your shoulder asking for a pencil, pencils?” He teased. But he wasn’t done;

Sense slotted into place.

“Do you know why I call you that by the way?” He checks. Voice such a soft chasm of purity.

“I assumed the way I’m always covered in graphite and ink, and paint splatters.” You shrugged.

“No.” He raises your hand up and marks a kiss the back of it. “But I do really dig that look on you.”

“Alas-“ He continued. “Its because you never snapped at me. Never once rolled your eyes or ignored me when I tapped on your shoulder. You didn’t dismiss me the way everyone else did.”

You’re floored. Stood pinned to this counter and you’re so touched.

“You always gave me a pencil. Always. And you smiled at me as you did it. Didn’t tell me to keep it with disgust or bark that you wanted it back right after. Look at it like you’d contract rabies from being touching something I’d used.”

You indeed smiled at him. You asked about the patches on his vest. About the bands you’d not heard of. Told him the answer to a random question of the pop quiz if you saw him struggling. Twisted around and caught sight of the horned devil skull he was doodling and thought it was cool.

You lit up when he came into class or when he said something funny. And sure, he did show off in the hopes it would earn that beam of yours. He always felt like opportunity slipped out his hands when you scurried away after class finished.

He tried every day, to stay and catch your eye- make you laugh again. Just something to rouse that little kernel of connection he had to you. And when he saw you around you were always alongside the blonde one he assumed was too cool to approach.

“Wow, we’re morons. It’s only taken us this long to get things going.” You supplied casually.

“Pencils. Trust me. I noticed you beside that blonde poodle friend of yours a lot. I thought how pretty and awesome you seemed. Would’ve tried to talk to you, but I kinda thought you hated me.” He admits with a wince.

“Why?” You ask almost sadly. Ready to crunch up your own conscience in guilt.

“That’s what people usually do. They don’t even get to know me they just decide to skip right to the ‘hating my guts’ part.”

You shake your head. Boldly.

“Not this people.” You say. Cupping his cheek. “And I’d like to spend a lot of time proving that tonight.”

Your free hand slunk to his waist. Holding him with a perfectly lovely touch that has his knees swooning. Fuck it, yes. He could swoon too.

He smiles at that. And it’s so stunningly honest it makes the slippy walls of your heart ache. Lays his lips onto yours again.

“What’s say we order this pizza, get buzzed and uh, do some very dirty hand stuff on the couch whilst we pretend to be interested in it?” He grins.

“Perfect.” You slip up and kiss him again. Arms crossed over his shoulders. Body entirely pasted to his.

“Does this mean we’re officially dating now?” You ask him sweetly when you pull back. Not having moved one inch away. Engrossed, entangled and entwined.

“It better.” He nudged his nose to yours. And it really was as simple as that.

“Fuck. I wanna kiss you again. Can I-“ He started, and before you can even answer. Before your tongue can shape and push words out your teeth. He’s on you again.

“Baby. We’re way past asking permission.” You break away and breathily tell him as the kissing gets heavier, more intense. Arms squeeze harder. Getting closer when there’s no room to spare already. Crushed. No breath. It’s glorious.

“Don’t tell me that.” He flirts. If you give him free-reign, you’ll never be able to reel him back again. You just won’t. He’s far too, far gone.

“Believe I just did.” You tell him. Ballsy.

He leads you stumbling by the waist over to the couch. Smiling. Nibbling your lower lip. Sucking and his tongue sweeping yours. Knocking and kissing, knees touching. Falling and falling into each other again. You gasp where you awkwardly clash together on the lumpy couch cushions.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that one Pencils.” He teases. Face all blushy and definitely love-drunk. Kiss dazed. Funny how you’d quite forgotten about those beers all of a sudden.

“Bring it on, Munson.” You urged.

~

🕷️This here? Oh no biggie. Just the next part of Eddie x Pencils 🕷️

My taglist for the JQ babes; @ceriseheaven @indouloureux @stiegasaw @fujiihime @youaremyfamiliar @captain-tch @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @svenyves @sammararaven @feralgoblinbabe @groupie-love-71 @andromeda-andromeda @starbxcks @morganamoonstone @ramona-thorns @gvtosbith @poppy-metal @munsonswhore86 @munsonlov3r @lunatictardis @shenevertricks1831 @hazzaismyreligion @harrys-tittie @anaisweird @cerinthussulpicia @cinnamoncunt @thincrusttheworks @manicpixiedreamcurl @therosietoesy @fanficappreciationblog @thicksexxualtension @tvserie-s-world @sharp-and-swift @dadsbongos @2clones-1kamino @edsforehead @chcolateeyelver @seven-glass-kids @forever-is-not-for-everyone @creme-bruhlee @bkish @wayward-rose @wyverntatty @latenighttalkingwithgrapejuice @churchmuffins @chickpeadumpsterfire @choke-me-levi @prozacandnicotine @xeddiesbattattsx

~

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Hello, I’m back once again with another Marko request. Can you use prompt number 6. "I tried to carve a pumpkin." Every Halloween I have a tendency to choose elaborate pumpkin designs and it’s always the luck of the draw weather or not I can make it turn out well, most of the time it’s a mangled mess though XD

Hahaha I know the struggle, every time I try to carve a pumpkin I end up with something that looks incredibly wonky 😅 thank you for requesting! I hope you like this💜

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The kitchen was lit brightly with candles, the smell of cinnamon filling the air as the wax slowly melted away. On the old radio on top of the fridge was a tune playing, and old one from the fifties, the guitar riffs played by Chuck Berry echoing through the room. In the middle of the kitchen, on the kitchen island, we're three large pumpkins waiting to be carved. Papertemplates were spread out next to them, just as the knifes, a tiny drill and spoons.

I looked at it with a satisfied grin, a ballpoint pen in hand. This year, I told myself, this year I would successfully carve a pumpkin. No squared corners. No simple smiley face. No, this year it would be artistic. Tasteful. It would be screaming Halloween.

So, for obvious reasons, instead of a happy pumpkin face, I went with three different scary ones.

I took the ballpoint pen, tracing the designs I picked out upon the thick skin of the fruit. It was a good start, I decided. The designs looked great. Now, it was only a matter of carving it neatly.

As I drilled a small hole in the middle of the eye of the biggest pumpkin, I was met with a violent splash of orange goo.

"Shit!"

I pulled the drill out, turning the pumpkin upside down. In all my enthusiasm, I had forgotten to hollow it out first. With an annoyed sigh, I cut the bottom off, immediately deciding to do it with the other two as well, before hollowing them. I took my spoon, and with some effort, I managed to get th insides of the pumpkins clean. Or at least, clean enough.

The kitchen, however, was no longer recognisable as clean. Pumpkinseeds were everywhere, spread around the counter and the sink. The flesh of the pumpkin, the juices - it was a rightful mess. I contemplated cleaning it up now but decided to do it when I was finished. There was no use in cleaning the same counter twice if I was still going to be messy.

As I began to drill a hole in the hollowed out pumpkin, the doorbell rang loudly. I looked up, the drill moving up, causing the stem of the pumpkin to fly off.

I jumped backwards, slipping on some pumpkinseeds. I groaned as I got up, annoyed as I heard the bell ring again, and made my way to the front door.

"What?" I snapped as I opened it, softening my gaze when I realised who was standing in front of me. I hadn't realised we had a date today, but of course we had. I shook my head, looking at him with an apologetic gaze. "Sorry, rough night."

"Yeah?" Marko stepped in as I welcomed him, "what gave you been up to?"

"Well," I lead him towards the kitchen, motioning towards the mess I'd made, "I tried to carve a pumpkin."

Marko looked at me, then at the mess, and back at me again. "Did you have to kill the pumpkin before carving it?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "No."

"Was the pumpkin bad?" He had a teasing grin, causing me to sigh.

"Very. Obviously it didn't want to be carved."

"Maybe that's because it knows it should be a two man job."

"Oh yeah? Who's the other -"

"I should call Paul for help, he's up for it."

"Git."

Marko chuckled as he pulled me close. It was nice, comforting, and warm as we stood there. "You know I'd only carve pumpkins with you," I told him, not letting go of the hug.

"I know. Still, I think butchering three pumpkins before I got here is a bit excessive."

"Well, they should have behaved," I shrugged.

"Are you still up for carving?"

"What do you think? I didn't butcher them for nothing!" I said, a small smile on my face.

We both sat at the kitchen island, on opposite sides. The pumpkin I had started to work on before he got here was declared dead - with the top being drilled off by accident, it would take a lot to make it look somewhat decent. The other two were beginning to look like something. Mine was still a bit wonky, but not so much as the year prior. It was a recognisable scary face, and I was certain it would look awesome with a candle burning inside.

Marko, as was to be expected, had made a whole damn artwork. He'd carved that scene from nosferatu, with the shadow of the count moving on the wall. It looked creepy and totally awesome.

"Isn't it a bit on the nose?" I asked as I stood next to him, looking at his finished work.

"Who will believe that a vampire carved a scene from a vampire movie?"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "I really like it."

"The vampire carving, movie or me?"

I thought for a bit, looking at him playfully. "How about I get back to you on that?"

[bkaulitzz]

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐈𝐭

more like this on my wattpad :3 @/b_kaulitzz

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info: LASER TAG LEMON, enemies to lovers if you squint, f!reader x dom!bill

c/w: just dirty talk, choking, fondling (f receiving)

a/n: THE FIRST HALF IS FROM JULY…my writing has improved so some stuff might be wonky

more under cut :)

"Happy birthday, to Valerie. Happy birthday to you!" Everyone sang, as Valerie leaned into her cake, blowing out her candles. I smiled as I watched her, she looked so gorgeous today, all dressed up for her birthday. I sat back on the couch, in a party room of the arcade place. It was lit with neon lights, the walls were carpet material with a purple hue. I hummed as I saw a plate of cake, held in front of me, looking up at the person who handed it to me. I felt my heart flutter as I met his dark brown eyes, taking the plate.

"Thank you, Bill, " I pursed my lips as I rolled my eyes, and he only smiled back as he handed me a fork. I began to eat the slice of cake.

"We're gonna play laser tag in a few, do you wanna join?" He said as he pointed his thumb back in the direction of the laser tag arena. I raised an eyebrow and looked over his shoulder.

"There's laser tag?" I muffled through the piece of cake in my mouth. He gave me a nod, grinning as he eyed me. "I'll join, I guess."

"I'll see you then, " Bill leaned down into my ear as he spoke. I felt my face heat up as he leaned back with a smirk, and walked off to get his piece of cake. I nibbled on my lip as I watched Bill awkwardly grab a plate from Valerie, they weren't even close. I don't even know why he got an invite. It was as if he HAD to be everywhere that I was. God, he annoys me. His stupid sly talk, his stupid hair, his pretty lips. I clenched the fork as I zoned out, my eyes on him. He turned to me, feeling my eyes on his. He tilted his head, coming over to sit next to me. "You shouldn't stare at people, it's rude, " He teased as he nudged me in my side with his elbow. I widened my eyes as I turned to him, we were so close that our thighs could overlap one another.

"I wasn't staring...I just zoned out, " I furrowed my brows, finishing the piece of cake. He tilted his head as he held a piece of cake to his lips.

"Why are you avoiding it? I know you were staring." He chuckled as he ate the piece of cake.

"I wasn't! Bill, just!... I just wanna play laser tag, " I huffed as I got up, to rush out of the rented party room. I left the used paper plate on the table in front of us. Bill frowned and watched.

"Wait!" I heard him call behind me as I excused myself past the other party people. I sighed in relief as I finally got out. I needed to get away from him. I looked around the arcade, eying each game. Guitar Hero? No, already played that. Dance Dance Revolution? No, too tiring. Air hockey! I widened my eyes and ran over, watching as a male leaned against it as he talked to another friend.

"Are you guys playing right now?" I spoke as I fidgeted with the hem of my long sleeves. The tan male turned to me, looking like he came straight out of a boy band. I felt a lump in my throat as my palms sweated, he smiled and shook his head.

"No, do you wanna play?" He asked as he went to the opposite side of where I stood at the air hockey table. I nodded, taking hold of a mallet. He smiled as he placed quarters in, taking a mallet and sliding the puck towards him. He hit it toward me, starting the game. I bit the inside of my cheek, hitting it back away from my goal. I smirked as the game went on, hitting the puck into his goal. He was so dreamy, his curls laid over his face so nicely, I almost lost the game from eying him. I furrowed my brows as my eyes went back and forth between him and the puck. We were tied, in the last seconds of the game. Come on, come on. I thought as I watched the puck slide back and forth, it was to the point you couldn't even see the distinct shape of it. I clenched the mallet as I tried to focus on the game, harshly hitting the puck. I gasped, feeling a pull on my wrist; my mallet gliding away from the goal as my grip pulled off, which caused the male to win.

"Come on, laser tag is starting, " Bill grumbled into my ear as he glared at the tan male. The male raised his arms as he watched us, smirking widely.

"I won! Have fun with your boyfriend!" I heard him say from a distance, as we walked off. I huffed as I stumbled along.

"He's not my boyfriend!" I responded, feeling Bill's grip around my wrist tighten. I frowned as we made it to where the others were. "What the hell, Bill? I was about to win!" I groaned as he let go of my wrist, once we got to the gear area. Everyone else was suited up, some fixing their shirts as they suited up.

"It's fine. You can play again later. This is more fun anyways, " Bill huffed as he walked to the opposite side, to put his gear on. I frowned as I watched him, what is wrong with him? I looked over to my side, only one vest left. I placed it over myself, sighing as I tightened it. The game controller opened the door, and everyone walked in. I followed behind, holding my gun up. I regret not inviting at least one friend here, everyone seemed to have a buddy. Techno music played above us, a countdown started and everyone ran off away from one another. Their vests lit up either blue or red. I chased after someone with a red vest, it was so dark, I couldn't make up their features or hair at least. My vest blinked as came close to them, giving off a zapping noise. I shot at them, before running off to hide behind a wall.

***

My palms sweated with the grip on the plastic laser gun. I backed up into a corner, behind a wall with a sigh as I wiped off the sweat on my forehead. The blue light from my vest lit my face from underneath as I took a seat on the carpet. I sighed, fanning myself. The noise and the heat were way too overwhelming. I checked my face with the back of my palm, hoping my makeup didn't melt off by now. I sighed in relief as no color transferred, standing up again with the gun. I looked at the time on the gun, listening to the computerized gunshots as people ran by. Maybe, if I stayed here, I wouldn't have to deal with anybody. I raised my eyebrows as my blue light began to flash, aiming the gun around. My back pressed up against the wall. My heart dropped as I watched a figure enter my vision, turning around the corner to face me. The dark-haired male aimed the gun at me with a smirk as the red light under him blinked, making him look more intimidating.

"Bill?! Don't scare me like that!" I scowled, aiming the gun at him to shoot with both hands. He shook his head, putting a finger over his lips as he quickly used his own gun to push mine away. The plastic harshly clashed against each other as I tried to keep my grip, my sweaty palms worked against me. I folded up a bit as I tried to pick my gun back up, only for Bill to take my wrists in either hand. He grinned, looking down at me as he pinned me. "You're cheating! Don't try to steal points off of me, " I tried to fight against his restraint. He bit his lip with a smirk as his eyes were hooded, leaning close down to my face. My heart raced, looking up at him as he glanced over my lips.

"It isn't cheating if both of us are in on this, " He leaned down to my neck, brushing his plump lips against my sensitive skin. I shivered, closing my eyes as I tilted my head away.

"I don't think laser tag is played this way, Bill, " I looked back down at him as he looked up at me through his eyebrows.

"You know..." He slowly stood up, taking both of my wrists in his left hand. He moved his free hand down to my lower jaw to lift my attention to him. My face heated up as he admired my features. "I think it's unfair how you always try to tell me what's right. Why don't I show you?"

"What?..." My stomach turned as his hand slid down to wrap around my neck. His grasp on me was firm, yet so gentle. My breath hitched as I watched him lean down to my lips, his lips parting with a grin as he looked up into my eyes.

"You're not fighting with me over something for the first time, " He whispered as he hovered his lips over mine. I slightly leaned closer, only for him to lean away.

"Bill, please..." I felt so ashamed, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He let out a mocking gasp, gently rubbing my neck with his thumb.

"This is new, I like this look on you, " He leaned back down, smirking as he hovered over my lips. Our vests were so close by now, forming a slight purple together in the middle. I clenched my jaw as I looked up at him. I leaned close, gently taking his bottom lip between my teeth. I slowly pulled back on it, watching his content expression. "You could've just said something, babe, " He finally pressed his lips against mine. I closed my eyes, letting out a small whine as his grip around my throat gently tightened. His warm and soft lips moved harshly against mine, and my head leaned back against the wall. Bill's lips chased after mine with a small chuckle as he moved his hand away from my wrists. My hands shot into his slightly sweaty hair, his hands gripping my waist as he pressed his body into mine. He groaned, the vests creating a barrier.

"You're so frustrating, " I said into the kiss, tilting my head as I pulled him closer by his head. He chuckled against my lips.

"Yea?" He hummed in response. I let out a small satisfied sigh, my legs feeling like overcooked noodles as I grew weak. My stomach turned as I felt heat grow between my legs.

"You annoy me so much, " I groaned as my lips begged for more. Each kiss feels just as addicting as the first one. He gripped my jaw, causing me to whine softly as he moved his lips against mine.

"Mhm?" Bill smirked against my lips, moving his knee between my thighs. I gasped softly, clenching my eyes as my arms slowly fell to his shoulders. I desperately moved my lips against his, my eyebrows curving inward. His free hand glided down my body, tasting my lips as his fingers dug into my thigh. I let out another sigh, allowing him to slide his tongue entrance. I slowly opened my eyes, his eyes meeting mine as he swirled his tongue against mine. I moaned softly, feeling his fingers slide against my folds through the thin leggings. He pulled away from the kiss, looking down at me as he slowly traced my clit. I arched my back, tilting my hips into his touch. "I'm so frustrating, I can't help it, " He breathed down my neck. My head went dizzy with the grip around my throat and his hand applying pressure onto my clit. I let out small moans, his face holding a proud smile as he continued. "I'm so annoying, " He dragged out, speaking into my ear. "Aren't I?" He placed a soft kiss on my ear. I let out a high-pitched moan as his finger gently flicked against my clit. I dug my nails into his shoulders, his vest protecting him as I tried to keep my moans down. "Tell me how annoying I am."

"Fuck-- you, " I managed to let out, biting my lip to fight back moans.

"Yea? Say that again, " He narrowed his eyes as he applied more pressure, circling my clit with his fingers. I trembled, letting out repeated pants. "Answer me."

"Fuck-" My voice shook as he continued to keep eye contact, sliding his fingers against my folds. He kissed my lips again, I let out a small whimper. He chuckled against my lips as his thumb pressed against my jaw. I desperately whine, curling my fingers into the sleeves of his shirt.

"I win, " Bill smirked against my lips as he stared down at me. I raised an eyebrow, my eyes following down to the dying light of my vest. He held his gun in his free hand, the audacity of him still having his hand on my throat. I clenched my fists, furrowing my eyebrows.

"No way. You're serious?" I picked up my gun, trying to shoot at him yet it was off. He slid a hand down to my vest as he kept me against the wall.

"I'm sorry...that you lost..." He mockingly frowned and pecked my jawline. My eyes were wide as I watched him leave with a smirk on his face. My nails dug into the gun, nearly breaking apart the gun at the seams. I'll get him back.

© bkaulitzz; dont steal :(

bill kaulitz, bill, kaulitz twins, smut

[yakuzacanons]

valentine’s day coming up!!

what do they boys do to celebrate w their s/o?

Anon how did u read my brain to find out I have been cookin this post for the last few days lol. Happy Valentine's to all of you, my lovelies.

Mild NSFW below. Also this is a long one, sorry in advance.

Kazuma Kiryu

Simple but classy. As it stands, he can't really do anything big or fancy and the Daidoji sure as hell won't let him do many dinner dates if any at all but he makes the most of it. Probably gives you a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a heartfelt letter.

Majima Goro

A chocolate thief is on the loose in Sotenbori and his name is Majima Goro. If a giant heart-shaped red velvet size box appears on your doorstep, it's from him. He might even be in it. Open it and find out.

Saejima Taiga

A mix of getting you some gifts and making you something handmade. He's typically torn between two strategies: making you a handmade gift and taking you out to dinner or buying you a gift and making you dinner. Heads up, he will at some point make a handcarved wooden figurine or statue for you one of these years.

Akiyama Shun

You'd think it would be beyond human capabilities for this man to get any sappier than he is but somehow he does it every time. A class act with just the right amount of cheese. Dinner, flowers, the works. You can't tell if you're just that starry eyed over this man or if he actually just fucking sparkles.

Tanimura Masayoshi

Can't afford too much on his salary, but he'll make you an adorable custom basket of all your favorite snacks. Will totally pull some strings at Homeland to get the restaurant open to just you two.

Ryuji Goda

Can afford whatever the hell you want and has no reservations about doing so. However, he DOES have reservations at your favorite restaurant with a bottle of your favorite wine, alongside one of every single favorite item of yours on the planet. Always gets you a piece of customized jewelry.

Nishikiyama Akira

Always gets you a customized bouquet of flowers. Actually pretty into the arrangement and colors and is particular about getting yours just right. Might just even make one himself one of these days. Also gets one of those customizable chocolate boxes or a luxury bag.

Daigo Dojima

Are roses and candles cheesy? Yes. Cheesy is also Daigo's middle name when it comes to Valentine's Day. Man's straight out of a 90's romcom. Probably got the idea from a 90's romcom, actually. Will also be down to watch a 90's romcom with you. Seriously, he prefers a cozy night in anyways.

Mine Yoshitaka

Same vibe as Daigo but sluttier. Seriously. He's a champagne and bubble bath type of hoe, followed by what can only be described as mind blowing sex. Out of all the boys, he's the one who's most likely to have sex on Valentine's Day.

Tatsuo Shinada

He will try his hand at baking you some homemade goodies. Be warned, the first few attempts will be a little wonky. He's doing his best though! He can't afford much so he likes to do homemade things. Would also be down to bake or cook something with you if you're into that.

Ichiban Kasuga

He'd take you on a date that includes all of your favorite activites and your favorite places. As long as he's spending time with you, that's what counts. Will totally end the day by just blurting out something sappy and romantic but would he be Ichiban if he didn't?

Yu Nanba

Likes to do something relaxing, particularly if it takes you two away from the city. Nothing like the peace and quiet of the countryside so you two can be as close as possible. Probably would take a weekend to go to a hot spring with you.

Adachi Koichi

Will actually ask you to be his Valentine. Total cheesefest with this guy. Type of fella to hold a rose between his teeth and say something dumb like "Hey babe, come here often?". In terms of activites, he doesn't have much beyond a nice dinner planned but his personality just oozes goofy, silly love.

Tianyou Zhao

If you thought he'd be doing anything other than cooking you an overly extravagant dinner all by himself, then you'd be dead wrong. Man's out here cooking all your favorite foods, baking your favorite desserts, and making them unbelievably pretty and fancy. He's out here making roses out of the freakin' dumpling pastry, for cryin' out loud!

Joon-Gi Han (Y7)

Sweetie boy is doing his best. Gets a nice cake with a custom message on it, or takes you to an adorable cafe and eats a bunch of sweets with you. Also, yes he's dressing in matching outfits, duh!

Joon-Gi Han (Y6)

This boytoy is taking you to the biggest, fanciest club in town and ordering the biggest, fanciest bottle of champagne they have. Also one of the boys who is likely to get down and dirty on Valentine's Day.

Osamu Kashiwagi

Total class. Years have given him enough knowledge and expertise to pull off a classic Valentine's Day without a hitch. Thinks of everything, from the flowers and dinner all the way down to what color tie goes best with what color suit that would match best with your outfits. Lots of kisses on the back of your hand.

[yan-snowcave]

♥️ Love is in the air~ ♥️

Reader x Yandere boys, Valentine headcanon's + drabble's

Words : 1K

Yandere's featured here :

- Alan [@hatchetmanofficial]

- Keith & Tenebris [@dualityvn]

- Casanova [@cannibalsweetheart]

- Friend [@stnaf-vn]

- Robin [@turnthepagevn]

A/N: While all of these characters have a drabble I'm not that confident in the Friend & Robin one I wrote ^^" I'm still trying to learn more about Friend and Robin but for now I will see this as a small test, so sorry if they are OOC

Also happy Valentines! Who needs a partner when you can have cheap chocolate the next day and yandere boyfriends >:3c

🪓🦌 Alan Orion 🦌🪓

• Instead of buying you chocolates or a bouquet of flowers he whittled a wooden heart locket for you with a love message on the back.

• Prepared a picnic under the starry night near the river where a lot of animals come by to drink or rest.

• He would be over the moon if you gave him chocolate filled with honeycomb.

[Drabble]

Pointing at the diffrent animals, Alan's head rested on your shoulder as he whispered facts about them. Whenever your eyes met you could see his love & devotion glistering in his eyes.

One of Alan's arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a passionate kiss.

Yes, you're sure that this is where you belong, next to your beloved Hatchet Man.

🪴🌹 Keith 🌹🪴

• Makes his own chocolate in the shapes of roses, if you like white chocolate he will even dye them red with green leafs.

• Takes you to a botanique garden, pointing at flowers that remind him of you before revealing their meaning. He also brought a cute, little lunchbox with food that you can share.

• At home you would be pulled into a comfy, cuddle session, while he showers you in kisses and tells you how lucky he is to have you by his side.

• He gives you a bouquet of flowers, it contains red, white (and even a black) Rose, red & white Carnations, pink Asters, magenta Zinnia's, Heliotropes, Hyssops, Sweet Pea's and White Gardenia's.

[Rough Meaning : Sweet love but also eternal obsessive, he will shower you in long lasting affection & won't ever forget you. You make him happy and he's willing to sacrifice anything to stay by your side since you're perfect in his eyes]

[Drabble]

A hand runs through your hair, sweet nothings are whispered into your ear, followed by a kiss on your cheek.

Flowers from the bouquet are tucked behind your ear as you return his affection through kisses, nuzzles and whispered praise.

Causing him to blush as your fingers intertwined at last.

🎮🌹 Tenebris 🌹🎮

• Failed at making chocolate so he just decorated the cupcakes with it, some slightly resemble those cute animal cupcakes. Just with very melted faces and wonky chocolate ears.

• Tenebris plays a love song that he composed for you on his guitar. If you praise him for it he will blush.

• Doesn't really get why valentines is that important to some people. He also buys the chocolate the next day when it's on sale & shares some of it with you.

• Thought the mistletoe tradition was also used on valentines day. He was very disappointed & confused when he learned that it's a Christmas exclusive thing. ("But it's all about kissing and Valentines is all about this shit! Your kind is really confusing, y'know that?")

[Drabble]

You two sat on the ground, backs leaning against the couch as the sound of button mashing echoed in the room.

Curses, popcorn and the occasional tease were thrown around. A few kisses were thrown in to distract the other from winning the game.

Of course, this lead to where you two are currently now; on the ground, laughing, arms wrapped around each other as Tenebris purrs in delight.

🫀 Casanova🫀

• Will bring you still beating human hearts instead of chocolates. One heart has a love message carved into it but you can barely read it with how mutilated it looks.

• Cooked a fancy dinner for you two, the table would be covered in rose petals with candles illuminating the room.

• Casanova would swoon [And be his overdramatic-self] over whatever gift you give him. Get ready to be praised, hugged and kissed, for best results get him a red & black coloured fancy knife tho.

• If you ever hinted (be it serious or jokingly) interest in owning a chainsaw he would get you a custom one, so that you two could match.

[Drabble]

Sitting next to a grave wasn't what others or you yourself would call romantic. But Casanova just knew how to change that.

Sitting on one of the Valentine gravestone's you listened to him, serenading a love song to you, his duo-coloured eyes never leaving yours.

Fiddling with the onyx ring on your finger, you slowly reached out to him. Silencing him with a kiss.

💛 Friend 💛

• Brings you your favourite sweets in a custom made box [tri-coloured like his shirt with stickers of your favourite animal/s on the box.] Which a custom, self-made plush swan is holding onto.

• Friend will take you to the cat café where you confessed to each other. He orders the valentine special, which is a strawberry milkshake with two straws and a plate full of diffrent sweet treats to share. [He will try to feed you and if you refuse he will pout, if you do feed him he will be happy but alsontease you.]

• Don't joke about marrying him on valentines, he will go and buy a ring if he doesn't have one already waiting in his pocket.

[Drabble]

Friend nuzzled his cheek against your neck, arms wrapped around your waist as he looked towards you.

Pink glowing eyes were reflecting the love he held for you. Such a deep love that simply couldn't be explained by mere words.

With a teasing grin, he took a bite out of the treat you held. Licking his lips as he whispered into your ear.

"As sweet as these are, I much prefer to take a bite out of you, Sweetheart.~"

📖 Robin 📖

• Made a reservation at a restaurant so you could share a classic romantic meal together, dance on the roof under the moonlight and share a special moment fit to be in a romance movie.

If you prefer an at home date, he would of course spoil you with a home-made meal & cuddles in his semi-eldritch/human form.

• His gift to you besides the classic flowers, jewellery, chocolate (made by Ellie because his somehow caught fire and almost burned down his kitchen.) Is a book he wrote for you, filled with every reason why he loves you and hopes that you stay with him until time itself ends.

• Would love to get a book you wrote yourself in return. He would treasure it and keep it somewhere safe, not wanting to risk it getting damaged by anyone.

[Drabble]

The moonlight shone down upon you two, candles burned gently as the wind rushed through your hair. As you took a sip of your drink your eyes locked onto Robin.

Who sat there silenty, skimming through the book you gave him before suddenly closing it. Grabbing your hand he placed a kiss on each knuckle, whispering a gentle promise against your hand.

"I will treasure this gift like I treasure you, my beloved.~"

[gwaaaaar]

Making Some Goddamn Sense Out of Team 3

EDITED for Ganji's official letter. I deleted this because erm. Didn't want someone to get on my ass. But yeah reuploaded :3 and information updated to avoid misinfo.

Spoilers for Ganji Birthday Letter ahead under the cut. I have been wracking my brain for days thinking about this goddamn letter. Thinking about gannieaesvic’s group in general. For the past 4 years I’ve been collecting information. Here is what I have gathered based on facts from the letters. For speculation, I will be stating what is my personal speculation and dear reader it will be up to you whether or not you think it has basis in canon. 😭 I’m still kind of heartbroken over what transpired… (brown people never win oml) (AND BIPOLAR PEOPLE TOO) but I will try to keep my personal feelings out of my fact-compiling. At the end though I will be discussing some personal thoughts!

ALSO… yeah so. TW for self-harm and racism/ableism. The first is going to be mentioned quite a bit because of someone, if those depictions upset you this is your warning.

To get this out of the way: Ganji self-harms when in a manic state. In his 2023 letter when he was in the detention center, everytime he was triggered by bright lights he would hold his head and bang his head against the wall or try to snatch the candles. LEADING INTO SPECULATION ZONE!!! Apparently according to who wrote that letter, he has a scar on his forehead which may imply that this is a very very frequent event. Hold onto this idea for a bit.

With that piece of background information out of the way, onto the actual match lore:

Aesop's 2021 letter takes place on the fifth day. He states “everyone is finally here” which is strange as fuck because he was the last to arrive on day 2. The way he says it implies that there are more people than him, Ganji, Annie and Victor. So let's rely on Annie’s letter instead.

On Annie’s first day, Victor arrives first, then Ganji. Although for Ganji she says “he was unlike any other before him” which honestly makes it sound like there were more people before Victor… but let's ignore that for now.

On her first day, she gets scared of Ganji and runs to her room, but when she listens in to his room, she hears thumping noises that grow in excitement, and when she knocks she notices hesitation and caution, which makes her think Ganji is like her.

So apparently the noise coming from his room is from him practicing to relieve anxiety! In his backstory it's mentioned that his neighbors heard loud noises from his room so that confirms what he must've been doing back then.

Ganji at that point had escaped the detention center where he had been locked in a dark room and practically dehumanized by a white man yet again, so yeah I think he’s reasonably pissed. If it weren’t for the events that transpired before the match I would almost say his rough attitude is out of character because Ganji’s own neighbors describe him as “soft-spoken” even though they were scared of him.

Moving on: on Annie’s second day, Aesop arrives. During dinner she hears mysterious footsteps and mentions that that was the second time “she saw him”. If she meant Aesop, wow what a terrible way to portray that like. The way she describes dinner, you would assume everyone’s there. She said everyone was seated during dinner and Victor was on a sofa. Idfk who else would be making those footsteps and looking at her weird because everyone’s already there and she’s seen them like more than twice probably in those two days.

Heading into the speculation zone: I do wonder, could there possibly be a fifth member? There is no mention of a hunter in this match at all. The repeated usage of words that make it sound like there are more people in Aesop and Annie’s personal letters even though there are none is so incredibly strange. I’m sure it’s a wonky translation but like. Come on.

Back to the mainline. So. In Victor's 2021 letter he mentions “But then I remembered the rule that we should not talk to each other, so I gathered the courage to open the door.” We can actually maybe pin down which day this rule was introduced.

In Aesop’s 2021 letter he states the game will start in 3 days. A match is usually 8 days (at least Emma’s was from 6-13, so 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13) so we can date Aesop's letter from the fifth day. He mentions that he finally settled on Victor as a target and will send his “first letter tomorrow” so the sixth day. Circle back to Victor’s 2021 letter and he mentions Aesop has sent him a third letter. So on days 6, 7, 8, after dinner, Victor has received letters. And Victor mentions their match will be tonight and they’ve already had dinner, dating that letter to the final day. SO we can try to more or less safely assume that around the fifth day, this rule was implemented.

Speculation zone again: if I had to guess why, I think it was implemented after Ganji was released from his dark room so it would be harder for him to figure out who wrote him that note, and if they actually wrote what was written.

Back to the facts. So we have descriptions of days 1, 2, 5, 8. We need to find out when and what happened in the other 5 days.

OK I lied, maybe we aren’t out of the speculation zone. I’m gonna go out on a limb and say on days 3-4, Ganji had his incident where Annie accidentally triggers him, presumably using a lantern while she was out and about because their encounter happens at night. Now the thing is, she was drugged, and that’s why she started being more active at night. Ganji was already kind of a night owl because of his mania. We can deduce that around Days 2-3, she was starting to get drugged. And since her reactions triggered Ganji’s own before he got the “supplies”' which seem to be mood stabilizers judging from their later scuffle, I’m gonna assume he was getting drugged with anxiety drugs after day 4.

Victor mentions on day 8 (2021 birthday letter) that for the first time ever his door was knocked, not the others knocking their own door to get his attention. And the loudness of it was from Ganji. Before that, at 10 in the morning Annie gave him a letter, and then later he got a letter from Aesop. Victor has never gotten a letter from Ganji and the fact Ganji knocks on his door instead is unusual. It could indicate Ganji doesn't know how the system works. Hold that thought for a speculation later.

“Written notes are the perfect form of proof to sow discord and expose secrets, and they acted as an effective catalyst for the development of the experiment’s middle and late stages.” This was in Victor’s case file. I’m assuming Days 1-3 is the early stage, day 4-6 is middle, and day 7-8 is late. If I am correct, this may fall in line with my theory that on Day 5, the letters system was implemented by the experimenters.

It is mentioned that Annie tried telling Aesop and Victor she was uncomfortable by Ganji but they just didn’t care. So what the hell was the reason behind them forcibly holding Ganji down and throwing him in a dark room??? Did they know that bright lights triggered him??? Did they think he was gonna hurt them? Because at most, Ganji would’ve been holding his head in his hands and hitting it against a wall and screaming or trying to snatch the light source Annie was using… Did they put him in a dark room for his own protection??? Like at least Aesop would want his corpses to be intact and undamaged but like why does Victor gaf??? He isn’t the most compassionate. LIKE VICTOR??? HE GOT UP HIS ASS AND ACTUALLY TOOK ACTION??? It’s just. Strange to me.

No fucking wonder Ganji was pissed holyyyy shittttt. White man after white man locking him in dark rooms.

Keep note of Annie’s expression of discomfort because I will be touching on this later.

So I’m assuming Ganji would've been released from confinement on the fifth day or so after receiving the note. And that’s when the notes system was implemented, he could’ve been confused as to what to do especially since no one was verbally talking to each other. So he could have observed the system they had and tried following it to send Annie a message back. This is all speculation again, just the best way I can piece the timeline together.

So after Victor’s 2021 letter, they meet up and Annie tries triggering him BUT he takes his mood stabilizers!!! Yippee!!! And he’s like, nice try bitch, they get in a fight but the lantern gets toppled over by Annie by accident. Annie escapes with her catapult which is. Strange like actually where the fuck did they meet up how does she have enough space to place that and use it… whatever anyways she escapes, Ganji’s stuck in the fire and tries finding an escape route, he sees Victor, Aesop and Annie together and gets pissed when Victor goes back in the fire. Annie tries to get the situation under control but Aesop just decides to kill Ganji with her before killing her himself.

MINOR inconsistency with Aesop’s case file, where it is mentioned that after the “prey” (Victor) goes missing, Ganji gets violent. “It wasn’t until the prey went missing that No. 3-1-4 lost their cool and became extremely violent, and the plan was interrupted, forcing No. 3-?-1 to show his inner personality.”

“Once the prey was lost, No. 3-?-1 was triggered to eliminate No. 3-1-4, who interrupted his plan, and to make it his goal to eliminate No. 3-1-2.” Two things: again what is WITH THIS FUCKING WORDING. Before Victor’s case file, it legit sounded like the prey was someone else. The only reason we know it’s Victor is because the circumstances line up. Besides that, How did Ganji interrupt his plan to embalm Victor? AND the most damning inconsistency of all, when they say Victor goes missing, it makes it sound like Ganji thinks Aesop did something to Victor and that’s why he gets violent . WHICH IS PECULIAR BECAUSE the group reunites at one point and that’s when Victor goes back into the fire for his letters like that is written in Ganji’s letter. Why would that make Ganji violent??? Why would a literal suicide attempt trigger him??? Strange as fuck get it together idv.

I also wonder, why was Annie crying while killing Ganji? Did she feel remorseful? Did the drugs finally wear off? Did she realize Aesop would kill her next?

AND WHY DOES AESOP KILL HIMSELF??? I THOUGHT HE WANTED TO KILL AS MANY PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE… AND THEN HE'S LIKE I killed 2 people, that’s enough.

This writing is stupid as Hell.

Deranged ranting aside now… OVER IT 💅💅💅. Speculating time!!! And my personal thoughts later on. All the important facts are outta the way.

So, what were in the contents of the letter Annie sent to Victor, and the letter Ganji gives to Victor. Victor never states that he delivered those letters, he just keeps them. So for Annie maybe it can be assumed it’s for him, but for Ganji, Victor thinks it might be for Annie. Considering this was on the last day, just mere HOURS before their match, legitimately he may have forgotten to deliver them??? Were those possibly the letters he killed himself for? I wonder what could possibly be in them that he thinks these secrets are worth keeping to the very end??? Or was he just so obsessed with letters the contents don’t even matter??? For Annie, I think she might have been trying to recruit Victor and Aesop’s help one last time. And for Ganji, I think he might have been trying to send a message back to her in response to something. Well whatever it is ig we will never know.

ALSO they mention that they have been sending Ganji supplies and sending false notes to the subjects of the group. Perhaps that may be why Ganji was sending Annie a letter as a response. And hey maybe Annie was in fact sending letters to Ganji because she thinks he was sending her letters. But Victor’s a letter freak and has been reading the notes. He might know which ones are in response to fake notes and maybe that’s why he hasn’t been delivering some??? I don’t know… just a theory.

I also wonder when Annie decides to tell Victor and Aesop about her concern. Was it after Ganji snapped at her? Before? ALSO. In the physical fight. I’m surprised she could resist. Ganji is a professional cricket player, he could easily knock her out with his bat or something. He wants to eliminate her/whoever sent him the note. He is the soberest he’s ever been. But he doesn’t do it immediately? It’s almost as if he went easy on her or maybe didn’t wanna kill her… kind of like… Norton… in Da Capo… with Orpheus…

Something that confuses me, so so much: why would Annie try triggering Ganji??? I’ve seen a few people theorize she was trying to get his help that way but that is such a fucked up way to do so??? She would’ve benefitted in no way out of it.

Let’s say she thinks Ganji would’ve hurt her in his manic state (BOOOO whatever man), why would she try triggering him into a state she thinks will hurt her?

Let’s say she thinks Ganji would’ve hurt her in his manic state *at first* until she sees that he in fact only hurts himself. IF SHE TRIGGERS HIM, KNOWING HE WOULD DO SO, that is incredibly fucked up. He can’t help her if he is hurt!!! He can’t help her if he’s having a breakdown!!! It reads so incredibly sadistic and dehumanizing she doesn’t look good either way.

Although Ganji's 2024 letter in english removed the accent part for Annie (thank the lord), in Aesop's personal letter he calls Ganji a cranky man with a strange accent… which is… hrm… if they hadn't removed the accent part, there would've been a lot more merit to it because of what was in Aesop’s letter.

However in Chinese... the accent thing is still in there. Take that as you will.

Also we must consider the fact that Annie is drugged. Her decision-making may not be rational. She wants to protect herself BUT but God. The decision to meet with Ganji and try triggering him still doesn’t make sense, drugged or not it is incredibly stupid. Why doesn’t she try staying away from someone she’s afraid of??? Like objectively it’s just stupid.

Then the fact Victor comes in to detain Ganji??? No seriously, why does he care? Does he care for Ganji’s safety? His own?? Because if it was his own he could just lock himself in his room. I know he was a part of a criminal gang so maybe it’s normal to him, but there was no indication beforehand that he would ever be active like this.

ALSO… why does Victor go to the manor? In his trailer he goes because he receives his own letter. Did he want a friend or??? I know storytelling will always be about introducing new elements but I’ve never quite moved on from Victor quite literally having empathy as an ingame trait only for his letter to be like he can only empathize with small objects and animals. Did his policeman friend mean anything to him? Legitimate question. For now I theorize that he used to be more empathetic but the trauma from that incident made him desperately try to close off his emotions from people. But yeah I just don’t think I can get a read on him anymore so I won’t try… I’m a Ganji truther first before I used to be a Victor stan. He’s a blorbeen…

Regardless of if any of the other three are racist or not, this letter was tasteless, Ganjis previous letters have all taken agency away from him. I understand it’s to show the circumstances of his time and to reveal information, but why couldn’t he or his loved ones reveal said information? Why did it always have to be people that think so little of him? He’s described as kind so many times and then they brutalize him so much for things he can’t control (his race or his mental disorder). It’s really disgusting and it feels like shock value. They rarely explore how it makes him feel in his own words, only observing what he feels from the outside. You see that he is hurting, that he is screaming. But you don’t get to hear him say how he feels, why he feels that way. You don’t get to hear his homesickness, how much he misses his family, his friends, only that his homesickness drives him to extreme actions. It feels like they are saying “look at this kind broken man get broken even further! Isn’t this just so sad!” It is sad but they are doing this in the wrong way. There are much more tasteful, nuanced ways to explore topics like these.

I think that’s all I have to say, collection of facts and my own thoughts aside. Please let me know what you guys think.