#i used to be known as the friend with cool music taste now they just think i’m a cringe born in the wronf generation emo vintage girl??

[starmanbyler]

how are people gonna suggest we make a group playlist, add literally 2 songs to it, let me add like 20 then complain when i suggest we play it like??? if you don’t like my music taste maybe you could add more songs idk. or get over it

[bangaveragewhitewine]

crazy-mad for you

Eddie Munson x Reader (bouncer x bartender, frenemies to lovers)  - Happy Hours series

Chicago, 1991. When you’re not pouring beers and shaking cocktails behind the bar of Jackie’s, you’re fighting flirting balancing banter and bite with the metalhead bouncer on your break.

A busy Friday night changes how you see Eddie Munson. Maybe you were wrong about the bouncer with his silver tongue and Bambi brown eyes...

This is 18+. If you’re not 18 please hit the back button and read something else.

Word count: 16.7 K

Contents/Warnings: Frenemies to lovers. Misogynistic comments; objectification, men being men. Some violence; Eddie gets in a fight. This is an 18+ fic. Smoking, alcohol consumption & drug use. Oral (reader receiving). P in V sex. Excessive use of pet names. Eddie & Reader are mid to late twenties. Reader is written as AFAB and uses female pronouns.

Author’s Note: One minute you’re daydreaming about cherry margaritas and Eddie Munson, and the next you’re writing 36 pages of how you fall in love with him... Just girly things? This is my first attempt at writing Eddie ❤️

I do hope you enjoy it, I had fun writing it! Thank you @specialagentmonkey for beta reading / being my hype woman.

Once again, this is an 18+ fic. Please do not repost my work to other sites.

Dividers by me ✌️

The cold fizz of vodka soda lime prickles your throat with a pleasant burn. 

It’s August and it’s warm, too warm to be crammed in this little dive bar with too many bodies and not enough of them wearing antiperspirant. Way too warm to be working, slinging cheap drinks to the thirsty Friday night crowd crushed into Jackie’s. They can be stingy with their ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’ but the tips are good at least (thanks to the pulled-low hem of your tank top showing just enough and the hug of denim on your hips). 

Jackie’s was a popular little dive you had visited during your first week in Chicago; a drink with your new roommate and some friends ended with you charming the owner Frank and promising to return for a trial shift the following evening. That was almost a year ago and you had settled in well, stepping up to be a supervisor after six months. 

Now, bone tired and wishing just a little bit that you worked a nine to five, you long for a cool shower and something fried and crispy and maybe cheesy (not particularly in that order). You’re here until close, two a.m last call followed by another hour of cleaning. Then you’re home free. Until tomorrow night anyway.

You tip back the last of your drink and crunch the ice between your teeth. Those last few minutes of your break are dwindling and soon you will haul yourself back, to fill beers and shake-up cocktails, all tits and teeth and aching feet. The music from the bar is loud as you perch on your stool at the back door, but you hear him over it hum-singing something way more Billboard Hot 100 than his usual taste. It makes your lips curve into a smirk, your head leaning back against the cool brick wall. 

“Don't you know, hmmhnn change. Things'll go your way. Hmmm hmm Hold On for -”

“Hey, hotshot.”

The small startle that shakes Eddie’s black-clothed body makes you laugh more than it should, particularly when he attempts to brush it off and play cool. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, I should’ve known you’d be here.” His voice is a groan, head tipped back with hammed-up exasperation. 

“Careful, Ed. They’ll revoke your metalhead licence if they hear you’re singing Wilson Phillips these days.” Your voice is a conspiratorial stage whisper as you cross your legs, stacking one over the other. His usual leather jacket has been swapped out for the hot summer nights, black denim over his usual tight black t-shirt and Dickies. 

He rolls and flicks his lighter to set the cigarette between his lips aflame as he meanders toward you. You can hear the crackle of burning tobacco as he takes a long drag, eyes never leaving you. “Not shaking your tits for tips, sugar?”

“Aw, been thinking about me while you’re asking cute girls what their star sign is?” you snark, missing the shadow of something that passes over Eddie’s face as your eyes roll. 

You switch your focus to the night sky above as Eddie comes to loom by you. The smoke swirls around him as he offers the cigarette out to you. Before taking it, you reach back and leave your empty glass on the sill behind you and swap a chilled bottle of Budweiser for the smoking cig. 

It’s not an olive branch, just part of your usual ritual; trading acidic barbs, mean words, shared smokes and free drinks whenever you’re scheduled on the same shifts (which is most nights). 

Eddie uses his keys to uncap the bottle and takes a long pull, head tipped back to show off his pale throat. A sliver of silver glints around his neck. The beer is almost half gone when he rips a truly boyish burp. Gross. 

You take a drag, sighing the smoke into the warm air. 

“What’s the sigh about, princess? Did someone not say please when they asked for their Cosmo? Your little apron tied too tight?” Eddie plucks at the wrap of black fabric around your waist. The way it hugs the curve and flair of your hips is certainly not lost on him.

You blow your second drag of smoke directly at him for that one. “Well if you could make sure we’re not packing the place out and breaching health and safety, that would be fuckin’ fantastic.” 

“Simmer down, princess. I’ve got it handled. You just pour your little drinks and wink at the boys and we’ll get through tonight just fine, ‘kay? Leave the crowd control to me.” Eddie tilts his head, dripping condescension like the total asshole he is. He’s way closer than you even realised and you can smell the spicy Fahrenheit behind the smoke. There’s heavy silence as you both glare at each other in the back alley.

The heat and hectic night make your banter especially snarky but Eddie’s the first to break, nudging you with a little smile. You barely catch his gaze dropping to your lips as you take another drag from his cigarette.

“No one giving you any trouble tonight?” he asks. 

“No more than usual. Just absolutely slammed in there. Just got done changing kegs again - they’re drinking us dry and it’s only Friday.” You roll your neck, sighing again when it cracks. 

“Tips good?” He seems almost genuine until his mean little smirk returns,  “Your tits are probably doing the real heavy liftin’ but..” 

“Listen dickh-”

Just as you’re about to cuss him out, there’s a burst of music and crowd noise as one of the other bartenders comes to find you. Michelle looks between you and Eddie before rolling her eyes. “C’mon, you’re really pushin’ that ten-minute break tonight. Sorry to break up whatever this was,” she flaps her hand between you and Eddie (who’s grinning like a wolf as he finishes his beer), “but we have a bachelorette party in line and it’s already crazy in there.” 

“Bachelorettes?” Eddie pushes off the wall and steals the smoke back from your fingers, “Sounds like I should probably get back to work. Ladies.” He winks before sauntering off, leaving you almost simmering with something like anger until Michelle scoffs and drags you back inside. 

“The sooner you two just bang and get it out of your system, the better,” Michelle tuts. 

“Ew. Pass.” You scoff and pause at the dingy mirror to fix your hair and pat the sweat away with a rip of trusty blue roll, scooping your breasts up in their cups and adjusting your top before scurrying after Michelle again. If you’re going to be busy, you may as well make it worthwhile and rake in the tips. 

The bar is louder than loud but you’re energised from your vodka soda and little sparring session with Eddie and easily fall back into step with the other bar staff, working together like a well-oiled machine - despite the annoying rusty hinge manning the door.  

Eddie rejoined the staff with his buddy Jeff in tow after they had spent some time on tour with their band. You had barely contained your eye rolls when the loud metalhead had waltzed into one of Frank’s staff meetings (conducted over pizza and pitchers of beers) unannounced and kicked his feet up on a table like he owned the place. Everyone was happy to see him (adding a round of shots to toast his glorious return) but you stayed wary of the flirty metalhead with a silver tongue and big brown Bambi eyes. Yeah, you felt warm all over when he looked you up and down and smiled like a wolf but you knew his type - total flirt, make a girl feel special and then move on to the next one. You didn’t move your entire life to a whole new state to get fucked over again, so you and Eddie settled into trading catty comments while you watch out for each other, allowing the occasional flirtation for balance. Getting under each other’s skin in whatever way seemed most annoying and fun? It worked, made the slow nights bearable, the busy ones more fun. Whatever it was. 

An hour later the small of your back is nearly soaked with perspiration. The bachelorettes are in full flight, meaning you have been pouring shots and mixing cocktails non-stop. They’re sweet at least, good with their excited ‘thank you!’s for all the fruity drinks you made them - cherry margaritas, blue lagoons and strawberry daiquiris going down an absolute treat. 

You’re shaking another batch of lemon drop shots for a girl's night group when you become hyper-aware of two yuppie finance bros with their gaze firmly fixed on your chest, trading little smirks and comments with each other behind their glasses. You’re overcome with an overwhelming sense of ick. 

It’s nothing new, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore sometimes - even when you’re up-the-walls busy and the kegs need to be changed. You refocus and fix your gaze on the glowing EXIT sign, thinking about how many more cocktails you will make before close. Your eye is caught instead by Eddie standing by the door, already looking at you while he’s supposed to be making sure none of the patrons are being too dickish. 

When your eyes meet he tilts his chin in a nod. Eddie smirks as he shimmies his chest at you, to which you mouth a very easily recognisable ‘FUCK YOU’ with a cheeky wink for good measure. 

He shakes his head and you pour the line of shots, earning yourself a nice big tip and a rake of compliments from the drunk girls who make you promise to do a shot with them later. Not a promise you can definitely keep, but their enthusiasm is a balm for your soul.

As they shuffle away to give each other pep talks in the bathroom (gosh, you love them), one of the men who had been eyeing you up steps into their place. You don’t miss the way he drags his eyes over their bodies before his snake-like stare is fixed on you. You have already made plenty on tips so you dial back the smile, giving him a barely polite brow raise in place of a ‘What’ll it be?’

“Two whiskeys, top shelf. Whatever’s expensive in this dump,” he says, speaking to your chest rather than your face. You can smell the sour of his breath across the counter. 

You square your jaw and suppress an eye roll that would surely render you sightless for the rest of your days. “If you don’t like it, the doors over there. Ice?”

He grunts affirmative and you pour the drinks from the barely touched bottle, slamming the glasses down just hard enough to startle him before you give him his total.

“There’s an extra fifty in it if you give me a smile,” he says, leaning his elbow on the bar with the crisp note in hand. “You been given’ out a lot more for a lot less all night. One little smile for me?” The man nods to your cleavage, and you refuse to feel self-conscious. 

You can’t summon the effort to even fuck with him, come up with a comeback that his Neanderthal brain couldn’t possibly comprehend. You give him his total again along with your best deadpan glare. “You’re holding up the line. Pay up or am I going to need to cut you off, buddy?”

His face turns sour, acidic anger bubbling up. “You’re a hard little bitch, aren’t ya?”

You smirk at that, plucking the fifty from between his thin fingers to cash up before dropping his change back on the counter. “I am, thank you so much for noticing.” Your voice is nearly saccharine, and you play up the airhead facade for a moment before turning to the customer next to him. “Next please!”

His curses blend into the background as Michelle hip-checks you with a grin and wink, which you return while beginning to pour beers for your next order. If you let every slimeball get to you, you would have given up a long time ago. 

On such a busy night, it was easy to be distracted and forget all about him, but the sharp brown eyes standing by the door saw everything - and he wasn’t so forgiving. 

Almost another hour passes; another keg change, more cocktails to shake, another few visits from your favourite group of girls (who you take a shot of tequila with when they bat their lashes at you - you’re a sucker when it comes to girls who give you compliments and smell like vanilla).  

The crowd thins a bit and you take a turn collecting empties, happy to have an excuse to get out from behind the bar and stretch your legs again, even if it is to balance too many glasses on a too-small tray. The ever-changing obstacle course of the floor on a Friday night is one you’re well practised at, dodging stray elbows and dipping in between patrons to take their spent glasses from the sticky tables, maybe chat a little if it’s not too loud or busy. 

Paradise City is pouring through the speakers as your arms begin to protest the load they are carrying. You know your limit and pick up two more stacked pint glasses, catching Eddie’s eye as he bids goodnight to some regulars. His boot is already halfway out the door after them when you see his face change into something you can’t fully comprehend. Not because you can’t read him - you absolutely can - but your body is careening forward and down toward the floor before you can catch yourself. Your foot had caught on something that hadn’t been there before you met Eddie’s stare, sending you flying forward. 

There’s a thud, crash, smash as you hit the deck alongside every single glass you had expertly balanced. The sound feels huge, ringing in your ears and it’s like the air is sucked out of the room, your body is winded by the unexpected impact. The music cuts and everything hurts - part ego, part ‘that’ll bruise tomorrow’ pain. 

You wish for the sticky floor to just swallow you up as patrons form a little circle around you, crunching broken glass under their feet. A familiar pair of boots stops right by your head. Eddie. He crouches to kneel by you with one hand heavy on your shoulder and floods your already overwhelmed senses with his smoke and leather and spice. 

He says your name, edged with panic until you open your squeezed-shut eyes. You manage to push yourself up with a small wince, hauling yourself with his help to sit on a quickly-vacated low stool. His hands feel huge as they cup your face, you hadn’t noticed how long his lashes were (unfair) or the freckles dusted across his nose. 

“M’okay, Ed. Jus’ need a minute,” your murmur, head ducked to hide your hot cheeks and embarrassment. He stands and puts his arm around you, without thinking you rest your head against his hip but miss his slight intake of breath as your coworkers calm the crowd and start sweeping and gathering the glass, and thankfully turn the music back on. 

Eddie bends a little to speak to you, low and quiet, “Just sit there a sec, okay? ‘Chelle is going to bring you to the staff room.”  

You nod and take a few breaths before taking his hand to stand and be passed safely into Michelle’s care.

“I’ll be back to you in a sec. Don’t go gettin’ in any more trouble, ‘kay?” Eddie’s softness has an edge now, his eyes zeroing in on the man who had given you shit at the bar earlier. The one Eddie had been glaring at ever since; he had seen him stick his foot out to trip you. 

You’re just about to push through to the back hallway when you hear raised voices. Eddie’s voice is louder than the others. You turn and see him squaring up to the slimeball who asked you for a smile earlier, not looking as clever or slick now that Eddie’s up in his face.

“Oh, what the fuck,” Michelle murmurs, pausing behind you to watch. 

“I saw you fuckin’ trip her man. Get the fuck out.” Eddie is incensed. “Been givin’ her shit all night.”

Trip her? Oh. He means you.

“I wouldn’t touch’er. That bitch? Fuck off man, get out of my face.”

There’s a scuffle, another broken glass. More shouting before it really kicks off, fists swinging. Through the horrified crowd, you see knuckles connecting with Eddie’s pretty face. It hurts when you yell out his name, adding to the noise as Jeff rushes in to get the men under control. 

Eddie lands his own punch, rings slamming into the man's jaw, raising a collective ‘ooof’ from the gathered crowd. Despite the blood on his face and hands, Eddie manages to haul him out into the street with Jeff, some beefy regular marching the second man out by the scruff of his neck. 

“What the fuck…” you breathe, realising that you were holding on to Michelle’s arm way too tight. You apologise and she steers you back to the staff room in a daze of pain and confusion (more from the fight than your fall). The room is little more than a box with a wall of beat-up lockers, a sink and counter, a table with cracked Formica and creaky chairs and a squishy old two-seater. It’s cramped but it can be a haven on a busy night. 

As you ease yourself into the corner of the squishy sofa, Michelle pours you a big measure of whiskey for the shock. She kneels in front of you, looking you over for any cuts or scrapes from the glass, and checks your pupils for good measure. You’re just shaken up and feeling the impact of the fall. 

“You dizzy or anything?” she asks, squeezing your knee. “You’re gonna have a big fuckin’ bruise, babe. Remember when I spilled that pitcher, slipped and fell on my ass back before Christmas? Black and blue well into New Year.” She squeezes your knee and encourages you to take a sip of your drink. 

The whiskey burns but you barely feel it. 

“Why did Eddie hit that guy? Did.. did he trip me? The floor was clear, I just… I didn’t see... My foot caught something but..” Your voice shakes from the adrenaline, the shock of the last few minutes. 

She shrugs with a little smile. “I didn’t see either. You’ll need to ask Ed yourself.” A little frown etches between her brows. “He doesn’t… he doesn’t get pissed like that for no reason. He’s a good guy, babe. He looks out for everyone, staff and the drunks. He wouldn’t do that without a good reason. I know you get up each other’s ass but..-” 

As you take another sip, the door swings open. 

Eddie. Eddie with a bloody nose, lip swollen. Eddie with his jacket off, draped over his arm as he flexes his bloody knuckles around a bottle of Jack Daniels, a pint glass of ice in the other hand.

“Hey, you okay?”

His brown eyes are wide, but he’s trying to play cool despite the adrenaline coursing through him too. Eddie feels like his entire body is buzzing, not in a good way like when he plays a gig or when he gets you riled up at him, when you roll your eyes and give him that smirk - bad like when he used to get in fights in school, when a teacher would assume he was the troublemaker and send him to detention or the principal’s office. 

You look at Eddie and he looks right back at you. You can’t look away from each other. It’s like your fall and his punches caused something to shift; you can’t name it but it weighs on you, both of you. 

Michelle squeezes your hand. “I’ll leave you two to patch yourselves up. Be good.” A kiss is dropped to your head and she squeezes Eddie’s arm as she passes him by. 

It’s just you now. You and Eddie, both hurting. 

“Ed…”

He takes a long pull from the bottle of Jack and drops into the seat next to you. 

“Eddie, what the hell was that?” Your voice is quiet and your eyes shine when you look at him. He is a ball of frenetic energy, knee bouncing. You take in the black ink on his arms, see the veins and muscles twitch beneath. His nose and mouth are stained bloody, knuckles and rings too. 

He looks over you, sees how you’re holding yourself carefully after your fall. “He tripped you.” Eddie’s voice is quiet, not something you hear often. He’s loud and he’s brash, hear-him-before-you-see-him kinda guy. 

“Oh.”

“Oh? He’d been giving you shit all night, you could’ve called me. Or Jeff.” He sips the whiskey again and tops up your glass without another word.   

“Yeah, he was a creep. Nothing new there. If I come crying to you and Jeff every time someone gets fresh with me I’d never be behind the bar. People are assholes. I can handle myself, Ed.” 

“And how’d that go for you tonight? You could’ve been really fuckin’ hurt.” His eyes blaze, nostrils flare. 

Your jaw drops, “You’re blaming me?” 

“No. No, fuck,” he growls in frustration. “I know you can handle yourself. That’s why you’re fuckin’ great at your job. If I had just taken him out when he gave you shit at the bar then maybe -” 

“Jesus Christ, Eddie I don’t need you to save me or protect me! Shit happens! This was shit. It happened. You didn’t need to do that.”

“I know. But I wanted to... I want to..”

The air between you is charged and heavy. 

I want to. What does that mean? 

Eddie covers himself quickly. 

“It’s my job. I want to make sure you, everyone here, can do their job without some fuckin’ guy with halitosis making it worse for you, waving his cash in your face like that.” Eddie nudges you gently, “I just want to do somethin’ right. I like working with you, even when you’re a pain in my ass.” 

You scrunch your nose up, “Sap.” It’s easy to both fit back into your normal routine, ignoring the lingering something more that had just become quite clear to both of you. 

“I might like working with you too. Don’t let it get to your head, I’m not sure your ego needs to get any bigger, Munson.”

He smiles, but the throb of his nose makes him wince and swear.

Eddie has made no attempt to put that glass of ice to good use so you ease yourself up to grab two clean bar towels, tipping the ice into one before wrapping it up. You pass it back to him before filling the empty glass with water.

“Thanks, princess.” Eddie flexes his fingers as the ice soothes the burning with cool unpleasantness. 

You ease yourself back into your seat, facing Eddie now. “C’mere. Let me clean you up.” 

He pauses, looking at you from the side of his big brown eyes before turning to face you. “It’s not broken. Just a little blood. You should see the other guy..” Eddie grins when you roll your eyes. 

“My hero,” you deadpan, though you do kind of mean it. 

With the damp corner of the rag, you gently begin to wipe the blood from Eddie’s face, sitting closer than you have ever really been to him. It’s silent between you, the quietest you have ever seen him. He’s too busy watching you, your focused face and how seriously you are taking your task. 

“Very gentle,” he murmurs. 

“Mm, don’t try me, Munson.” You’re quiet again, concentrating on wiping the blood and not looking into his eyes. “Not your first bloody nose after a fight then?”

“M’nope. High school… Mosh pits. Few angry drunks. The usual.” He doesn’t mention his father’s temper, his first bloody nose from a beer-soaked backhand. The whiskey tastes sour in his mouth at the memory.

You lean back a bit, assessing your work before wetting another edge of the towel. Eddie crosses his eyes, looking down his nose. “Am I pretty again?” He gives an extra cheesy grin for emphasis, making you laugh. It makes his heart soar; that sound, how you duck your head. But he sees your pained wince, bringing him right back to earth. 

“Shit, sorry.” “It’s fine. I’ll live.”

You bring your hand back to his face and wipe the last of the blood-stained around his mouth, taking one last slow swipe over his too-plump-to-be-decent lower lip. That was more for you than for him, though the spark of fire in his eyes said otherwise; it was the same spark lit low in your belly since you had first laid eyes on him and started your incessant teasing of each other. 

“All done.” Your voice is just above a whisper, neither of you making any move backwards. 

“Thank you, nurse.” You can feel the warmth of his breath on your face. “Hey, can you... wear one of those little white dresses next time?” 

He’s grinning again when you shove at his shoulder to put some space between you, the skin beneath almost burning hot under your hand even through the black cotton of his t-shirt.

“No next time. You hear me? Your groupies will come for me if that pretty face gets all bashed up.” There’s that smirk of yours that sets the embers burning low in his stomach alight. 

He rolls his eyes at you, stealing your move. “You heading home?” he asked, watching you again as you drained the last of the whiskey in your glass. 

“Mm, soon. I’ll check if I can help close and clean, then I’ll go.” You lean your head against the back of the battered sofa and close your eyes briefly. You think you might just sleep here until your stomach growls like something from the seventh circle of hell.

Eddie’s big brown eyes shine with mirth, astounded at the inhuman noise that just came from your curled-up body. 

“Shut up. I’ll make cereal or something when I get home.”

“Nuh-uh. You like fries?”

“Who doesn’t like fries?” you peek one eye open to look at him.

“Let’s get some and I’ll make sure you get home safe.” Eddie checks his knuckles and swipes some of the blood from his rings, acting far more nonchalant than he felt. 

“You don’t need to.” Fries and a shake did sound amazing. Walking home while I felt like a human embodiment bruise? Not so much. 

“I know. But I’m going anyway, and you need to eat. So let me.” 

He pokes your arm as he speaks; you think fleetingly that you might let Eddie Munson do anything if he asked you nicely, spoke to you with that hushed husky voice. You think that you definitely must have hit your head when you start thinking about his eyes…

But he can’t know that, so you settle for an eye roll. “Ugh, fine.” 

With far too much energy, Eddie pushes himself up and empties the ice into the sink along with the red-tinged water. He potters around the little staff room, chucking rags into the bag for the laundry and rinsing glasses. You watch him, curious and a little confused until you realise you are staring and don’t want to be caught. 

You sit up and unlock your tiny locker, taking off and balling up your apron to throw in your bag, spraying deodorant under your arms before shutting and locking it again. Eddie’s got his jacket back on and you carry your own too-big denim jacket over your arm. You give him a nod, ready to go, and head out to the bar to check with Michelle that it’s okay for you to call it a night 

The crowd had thinned to a few stragglers who were almost ready to call it a night. Jeff has the door under control and the bar staff are already cleaning tables and glasses. You promise Michelle you will call her tomorrow, that you will stay in bed if you hurt too much, and accept her gentle hug after she passes you your tips for the night. 

“Get home safe. No more getting into trouble,” she says, eyeing you and Eddie together with interest (and some smugness). 

“No promises. See ya tomorrow ‘Chelle,” Eddie says with a wink before you both head out toward the black ‘86 Dodge Daytona parked a little down the street. It’s still humid and warm outside and you walk in silence until you see him unlock the nice car, opening the door for you. Your stomach flip-flops when he gives you a slight bow. He’s only being nice because you made an ass of yourself at work, you tell yourself. 

“Jesus, being a rockstar really pays off,” you tease and throw your bag into the passenger footwell before easing yourself in. “Or did you steal this?” 

You knew he had worked in a garage before moving to the city, and you force the thought of Eddie in a grease-marked tank top out of your head.

“Nah, my days of grand theft auto are long behind me.” Eddie winks and closes the door before rounding the shiny bonnet to sit in the driver’s seat. His keys jangle before he turns the ignition. 

The radio blares Iron Maiden’s The Number of the Beast so loud that you just about hear Eddie’s swearing over it until he gets the volume down. “Oops.”

“Dude, mind your fuckin’ ears. You’ll be deaf by thirty.” Your own ears are ringing after the onslaught of noise. 

“Huh?” He holds his hand up to his ear and smirks stupidly before revving the engine. 

You sink back into the low seat and shake your head; your own smile reflects at you in the window as he peels away from the curb. “You better not murder me, Munson. I’ll haunt the fuck out of you if you do.” 

“Once again babe, kidnap and human sacrifice are also long behind me.” 

He drives a little fast, but you don’t hate how you feel sitting in the passenger side of his car. He has a faded Black Ice Little Tree hanging from the rearview mirror alongside a skull keychain that cackles and glows red when you push a button on the back. The cramped back seat camouflages balled-up band shirts, a pair of beat-up Chucks, amp leads and guitar strings - a random accumulation that gives you a glimpse of who Eddie is outside of work. It’s easy for your mind to wander; Eddie, a back seat, what kind of girls he usually brings for a ride in his baby. Instead, you wonder about all you don’t know about the guy you spend a good part of your week with, the man currently driving you to get diner food at 2 a.m. after he punched a guy who was mean to you.

“Feelin’ okay?” he checks, flexing his knuckles on the steering wheel as he takes a left.

“Yeah.” You roll your head to look over at him. “Tell me something.”

Eddie glances across at you, brow raised under his bangs. “What?”

“Something, anything. A secret, a story. You always have something to say, so tell me something.” 

“Mmm. You gonna laugh at me?”

“Probably.”

“Shit okay. Um... Okay. I almost got kicked out of my high school graduation. My friends were disruptively loud, like obnoxious motherfuckers - love them to death. And I flipped the Principal off instead of shaking his sweaty little hand.”

It does make you laugh, just a little - more of a really amused smile. “That’s fuckin’ cool, Munson. Were they your little Dungeons and Dorks friends?”

“Rude.” He pauses. “Dragons. Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Nerd. You’re from where, like Ballsack, Indiana?”

“Close. Hawkins - just north of Ballsack actually.”

“Can’t say I know it. Home of the Metalheads or..?”

“No. Definitely not. S’why I left.”

Your lower lip juts out just a little at the loaded confession.

“Your turn. One secret, please. Dirtier the better.”

“Perv.”

“Witch.”

You smirk, leaning your head back. “Been called worse tonight.” 

You don’t see Eddie’s knuckles twitch while you think of a secret. Hearing that guy call you a bitch reminded him of all the times he had heard his poor mother called the same by the deadbeat he called Dad. 

“Okay, you’re going to piss your pants at me. I used to work at this kinda fancy cocktail place before I moved here,” you say. “Totally lied about my experience before starting. Think… wannabe jazz lounge for yuppies. The menu was like this leather folder thing. Anyway, my first week and this like.. rich lookin’ guy comes in and asks for a Roman Coke.”

You see Eddie glance at you as he indicates and swerves the car smoothly to park opposite a little diner not far from where you live. 

“I’m a few days in, super eager to get it all right. I’m like, ‘Yes, of course, coming right up’ and can I remember what the hell is in a Roman Coke? Fuck no. It’s not on the menu so I think ‘Hey this guy must know better than dumb little me’. I’m flipping through the recipe cards, everyone else is busy and kinda mean anyway so I stare at the liquors for like two minutes before I go back and ask him ‘What’s in that again?’.” 

Eddie’s biting his lip. He knows where this is going. He sees how you light up when you tell your story, begs the butterflies to calm their swooping and swirling behind his ribs as you deliver the punchline. 

“Rum. And Coke.”

His head falls forward, rests on the top of the steering wheel. His shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“Eddie. He was the owner.” 

He cackles. That throaty yell of a laugh you hear ringing through the bar or from the staff room when he’s goofing around instead of working. 

“Oh no..” He’s wiping tears from his eyes as you cringe in his passenger seat. “Oh princess, that’s fuckin’ terrible.” 

You sit together in his parked car until you settle, faces hurting from smiling until your stomach growls again.

“Jesus, the woman needs fries - stat.”

“And a Coke?”

“And a Coke.” 

Eddie is out of the car and opening your door before you even have your seatbelt off. He offers you his hand to help you out of the car, careful of your sore body after the fall. 

“Feeling okay?” he asks, still holding your hand. 

“A bit achy. I’ll have a hot shower and take something before bed.” You lift his hand to check his knuckles. “Sore?” 

“I’ve had worse.”

He squeezes your hand gently before you let go and cross the street to the hole-in-the-wall place glowing with neon Coca-Cola signs. 

“You get in a lot of fights then?” you ask as he holds the door. 

“Not anymore.” Eddie shrugs and leads you to a little table, nodding politely to the waitress filling coffees at the counter. She says hi to him by name and you think about Eddie coming in here alone, or not, after his shifts.

The backs of your thighs catch on the red vinyl and you know you will need to peel yourself up later.

Eddie sits opposite you, looking immediately at home as he relaxes back in the booth. In the bright diner lights you can see where his lip is still swollen and sore, the lingering specs of blood in his nostril despite your careful clean-up.

The waitress, an older woman with thinly drawn brows, comes over and pinches Eddie’s cheek with motherly affection. “Hi hon, you two know what you’re havin’?”

Eddie scrunches his nose like a bunny. “Hi, Marie. Usual for me, and a big basket of fries and a Coke?” He looks at you for confirmation, and you nod. “Please and thank you.”

She eyes you up with a little smile as she writes the order. “I was wonderin’ when Eddie was going to bring a nice girl for me to meet. Make yourself at home, sweetheart.”

By the time you both open your mouths to set Marie straight, she’s already gone. Eddie’s cheeks tinge pink, but he shrugs it off. “Hate to have to break her heart and tell her you’re not a nice girl.”

You gasp in mock offence and put your hand to your heart. “I am so nice.” You can’t even keep a straight face as you say it. “Slandering my good name, Munson. I thought you were all about protecting my honour.”

Your close-to-the-bone teasing keeps the rosy tint on his cheeks. 

“I never told you, your face when you fell? Fuckin’ hilarious. Should’ve taken a picture to put behind the bar.”

The jab puts you even again, not that either of you keeps score but it’s all about balance. Can’t be too nice, don’t want to be too mean. 

You rest your head against the back of the booth and close your eyes for a moment, feeling the exhaustion from a busy and unpredictable night wash over you. 

Eddie takes the opportunity to just look at you for a moment; even under the too-bright lights of the diner, he thinks you might just be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

“Tell me something else,” you say before opening your eyes. When you do, you catch a fleeting dreamy look on Eddie’s face and lean forward to rest your chin on your hand as Marie drops over your drinks and food; fries for you, a burger with oozing American cheese and crisp bacon for Eddie. 

“So nosy,” he teases, shoving a straw into his fizzing Coca-Cola. 

You shrug, feeling a burn in your stomach; maybe you were overstepping. “You don’t have to. You can sit and stare at me if you prefer,” You take a long sip through your own gently placed straw and raise your brows at him. 

He can’t and won’t argue with that one and stirs the ice as he thinks, takes a sip. 

“One of the first gigs I played out of our hometown, we had like thirty people instead of the usual five drunks in the Hideout. I tried to crowd surf, thinkin’ I was hot shit. Broke my wrist.” 

Your eyes blow wide as you eat the best fry of your life - it’s perfectly crisp and fluffy, salted just right - but the punchline of Eddie’s latest confession had you wanting to know more.

“You want half?” Eddie asks, nodding to his burger. 

“No, I'm good, thanks. Hold on, reverse to the breaking your wrist after thinking you were Iggy fucking Pop.” 

He’s already a bite in but holds his wrist up before he flips you off. “See? Good as new,” he says, pausing his chew. 

The fries are too good to waste so you push down the urge to throw one at him. 

“I was eighteen. Stupid kid. S’the reason I didn’t graduate that year.” He sips his Coke again and watches your reaction from beneath his lashes. 

“That’s shitty.” You feel the frown deepen between your brows, angry on his behalf about something he was long over. “No wonder you flipped the principal off.” 

You share your fries with Eddie and eat until your stomach feels warm and full. You share another secret too, tell him about the time you got so scared in a haunted house that you punched some guy dressed as a zombie and got kicked out. He almost choked on a fry at that and laughed so loud that Marie looked over and shook her head fondly at her favourite customer. 

It’s easy to drop the charade that you and Eddie don’t get along. A diner at fuck o’clock in the morning exists a world away from the little bar that pays your rent and bills. When you see him get excited telling you a story, letting you see Eddie beyond the bar, you know you got him wrong - he’s funny as fuck, sweet too. 

Midway through a story about how his friend Robin had dragged him to do (very) drunk karaoke last week, Eddie catches you staring and scrunches his face a little. “Am I rambling? Fuck, sorry.”

“No. Well, a little, but I like it.” You sip the dregs of your refilled Coke and smile a little. 

He smiles back, ducking his head just a little and he catches the time on his watch. His Bambi brown eyes blow wide when he realises. “Jesus, I oughta get you home. The sun will be up soon.” 

You didn’t realise either, but you also don’t care. You’re still tired, still aching, but you feel lighter than you have in months, like a long-dead spark might just be coming back. The warm glow is dampened just a bit when Eddie gulps down the last of his drink. 

He pulls his jacket back on and insists that he helps you put yours on when you wince. He settles the bill, kisses the back of Marie’s hand and promises to come see her soon. Neither of you let her down when she says she hopes to see you again sometime. 

It’s cooler outside now, but the warmth in Eddie’s car and his gentle singing along to the radio rocks you into a light doze as he drives the few blocks to the address you gave him. It kills him to wake you once he’s parked outside. 

The small frown lines on your forehead tell him you’re still in some pain after the tumble you took. The ache in his knuckles felt like nothing in comparison to the twisting anger in his gut when he saw that prick’s foot shove out into your path and you watched as you fell in slow motion.

He gives it a minute, tries not to stare like a creep, before reaching over to shake your knee gently. 

“Hey.” He says your name so softly, so gently, and taps his fingers against your knee. 

You startle slightly and realise where you are. “Sorry, Thanks for the ride, Eddie,” you say quietly. “And the fries. And everything.” 

He smiles again, a gentle curve upward of his lips as his fingers rest on your knee. “Any time. We’re like two or three blocks from each other.” 

Neither of you wants to burst the already waning bubble you have been in since you left the bar. For a moment, you just look at each other until the air becomes too thick, too heady to breathe easy. You’re not entirely convinced that you didn’t hit your head, that this whole night hasn’t been just some dream of yours. The heat of his hand on your leg tells you it’s real. This is something real. 

And still, you make the first move. Pop the bubble. Too much. Too scary. 

Your seatbelt clicks open and you grab your bag as Eddie does the same, coming to open your door and offering you a hand to get out. 

Neither of you let go of the other’s hand, eking out the last of whatever this was before you have to go your separate ways and think about what it could turn into if you only had the bravery. You’re both standing so close and you watch the shadow of his stupid-long lashes under the street light. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Today. Whatever. At work.” You want to slap yourself for stuttering. 

“Only if you feel up to it. Don’t be a hero, princess.”

“That’s your job, Ed. I’ll see you at work. Thank you, again..”

You squeeze his hand, he squeezes back.

You walk to your door and Eddie rounds the car again to the driver's side. He raises a hand to salute you as you turn to give him one little wave before closing the door. 

“Fuck,” you sigh with your back pressed to the wood of the door.  “Fuck.” Eddie growls as his head drops against the roof of the car. 

You both take a minute. Need a minute before you can move on. 

You drag yourself up the stairs and let yourself in, quiet enough to not wake your flatmate. Eddie waits to see your light come on before starting the car and driving the two blocks to his place. 

After popping some painkillers you crawl into bed. Even your racing mind and pounding heart can’t keep you from falling into the deepest sleep you have had in months. Your dreams echo with Eddie’s happy throaty laugh, the gasp from the bar when he threw the first punch, the sound you made when you saw a fist crash into his pretty face.

You sleep late through the Saturday morning city sounds as they turn to afternoon and float through your cracked open window. You sleep until your flatmate knocks to check you made it home and are still breathing, then doze off again while she makes brunch for you both. 

Over eggs and bacon, toast and fresh fruit, coffee and Advil, you tell her everything from last night and show her your bruises. She runs to CVS to get arnica cream and more painkillers while you strip your bed, shower and do laundry, keep busy to keep the recurring thoughts of Eddie from your head. 

While you are folding clean clothes from earlier in the week back into your drawers, you come across a guitar pick Eddie had left on the bar one time before your shift started; once lost from his pocket, found again amongst the collection of shirts and shorts and jeans you wore to work. You had meant to give it back, then he had called you a brat for something stupid. Maybe he had burped too loud in your direction, and so you didn’t bother. As you run your thumb over the smooth curve of it, you think maybe he’s been at the back of your mind for a longer time than you even realised.

You’re sore all over but you call Michelle and let her know you will be in for your shift. You don’t tell her that you stayed out extra late with Eddie talking about stupid shit and laughing until your face hurt - you're not sure you could handle her sweet smugness over the phone. 

After a long bath to soak your muscles and a huge plate of pasta for dinner, you get ready for work. Denim shorts, a tight black t-shirt tucked in, and your trusty Dr Martens (despite the heat). You add some jewellery, spritz your perfume, and fix your hair up off the back of your neck to keep cool. You swipe some Raisin Rage on your lips before wiping it off in favour of a slick of cherry flavour Chapstick. At the last minute, the lipstick makes its way into your bag - just in case. 

It’s just after six when you step back into Jackie’s to help cut wedges of lime and lemon for drinks, make sure the barrels and kegs are hooked up properly, the mixers ready to go. It’s almost time to open up and you haven’t seen (or heard) Eddie yet. You chase your disappointment with a quick smoke break with one of the summer hires before Frank pulls you aside, making sure you’re okay after last night (and that you’re not thinking of suing the bar or anything).

“My wages wouldn’t cover a lawyer, Frank. Even with the tips,” you smirk before stepping from his office out into the hall, running straight into black denim and spicy cologne. 

“Woah, easy there.” Eddie’s hands steady you, two wide palms on your arms that squeeze gently when you look up into his smiling face. “You’re a fuckin’ liability, honey.”

Your cheeks feel hot but you shove his chest gently. “I was wondering when you’d arrive. It was so peaceful and quiet, what a shame.” 

Back to normal. Except Eddie’s hands are still on your arms, his thumb circling on the round of your shoulder. “Feelin’ okay?” he checks, speaking quietly just for you. 

You nod and lift your hand, taking his chin between your finger and thumb, feeling brave alongside the little intake of breath Eddie just about hides. “No bruises. Good.” 

There’s a beat where you and Eddie aren’t quite sure what you mean, what to say next. You’re glad that Frank calls for Eddie from his office, wanting to have the same chat with him as he had with you. It gives you both a good excuse to let go of each other, figure out what the fuck that was before your shift starts.

He squeezes your shoulders and gives you a little smile before letting you go. “Be good. Don’t get in trouble.” 

“I’ll try, hot shot,” you say quietly, giving him a wink before going to join Michelle and the other bartenders for a quick pre-open meeting - but not before you dip into your locker to pat a layer of lipstick on. 

The crowd begins to trickle in, slow and steady until it’s packed full and the music blares just loud enough. They’re a fun crowd tonight, and everyone is in good spirits now that it’s not quite so oppressively hot outside. You don’t have time to think about much else in between chatting to customers and mixing drinks; shaking cocktails is a bit more laborious when your body aches but you don’t complain. 

It’s almost eleven before you take your break. You take another Advil before slipping past the Staff Only door. The air is tinged with smoke as Eddie leans against the brick, waiting. 

His face lights up when he sees you and the two glasses you’re carrying. “Double fisting?” he asks, taking another drag. 

“One for you, one for me. Mines the water.” You extend out the dark fizzing highball glass to him, which he eyes suspiciously. He passes you the nearly burnt-out smoke as a trade-off. 

“What’s this?” he asks, “The witch's potion? I knew you’d take me out by poisoning me.”

You prop yourself on your stool and sip your ice water, smirking into your glass. “It’s a Roman Coke.” 

Eddie’s laugh rings through the alley and he holds up the glass. “You fuckin’... Wow. What an honour.” His free hand covers his heart, silver rings glinting in the light. It would be easy to think he’s being condescending or playing around, it’s what you do. But Eddie is genuinely a little bit touched and a whole lot smitten. He can feel his heart beating faster under his palm. 

You pass him a paper-wrapped straw before watching as he takes a curious sip of your special mix. You take a drag of his cigarette and watch his eyes blow wide as he computes the flavours. 

“D’you hate it?” you ask carefully.

“What is in this? It’s insane! I really like it,” Eddie says, grinning. 

His smile makes your tummy flutter. 

“It’s rum - but like, a coffee-infused rum - and Coca-Cola, with Sambuca,” you list off the ingredients that had been turning over in your head all evening. 

Eddie nods as he takes another sip, letting the flavours wash over his tongue. “Mm, I like it. You’re a real little alchemist, huh? Get it on the menu.”

You laugh and pass him back his smoke. “Nah. That’s an Eddie special. Just to say thanks..” 

Eddie looks at you, watching your teeth sink into your stained-dark lip as you wait for him to respond. He’s a shade softer than the usual tough-but-fun guy who works the door, softer than when you’re usually tearing strips off of each other for fun on your breaks. 

“Careful,” he says, voice quiet. He looks almost bashful. 

You frown a little. Your gut twists uncomfortably. Had you read it all wrong? 

“I don’t know what to do with myself when pretty girls are sweet to me,” he says, sipping his drink pointedly. 

The knot in your stomach swoops. He thinks you’re pretty. Eddie thinks you’re pretty. Eddie who flirts with dolled-up girls all night while he’s checking IDs.

You look back at him, see how the light and shadows play on the slope of his nose and those long lashes. “You have plenty of practice, Ed,” you say, so quiet. “You always know what to say.”

He smiles just a little and shakes his head. “Not with you. S’why I say stupid shit. Anyway, no one’s as pretty or sweet as you,” he says. “Even when you’re mean. Especially when you’re mean - so fuckin’ pretty then.”

Your laugh is almost involuntary, cheeks feeling warm. “That was smooth, Eddie,” you say, teasing him again; that was comfortable, less scary. 

“It was? Oh good. I’m fighting for my life here.” He laughs and leans against the wall beside you. 

He’s taller than you as you sit on your stool, tuning your body sideways to look up at him. “Putting the moves on me, Munson?” 

“Is it working?” Eddie raises his brows, pushing them up under his choppy fringe. There’s a playful twinkle in his eyes, hopeful and yet apprehensive. 

“Yeah, I think it might be,” you whisper, biting your lip again. He wants to bite it for you, soothe the pinch of his sharp teeth with his silver tongue. 

You reach a hand out, sliding your fingertips up over the back of his hand and wrist until they slip under the cuff of his sleeve. You bring his hand down onto your thigh, warm and bare in the summer evening heat. 

You’re feeling brave. Eddie is too. 

He leaves his drink on the sill next to your water and steps closer, his hand huge on your legs as he feels the smoothness of your skin and the frayed hem of your denim shorts. Eddie crowds closer, smelling the sweetness of your perfume as his leg slots between your knees. His eyes flick from looking at your lips to searching your gaze for any hesitation or hint that you’re just fucking with him. He finds none and feels braver than ever. 

He dips down, brushing his nose against your cheek and hears your intake of breath, that little gasp he wants to swallow and consume. His lips press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, begging sweetly without a word. 

You turn your head just a fraction to close the minute gap, bringing your lips together. With your hand on his neck, you feel his pulse race in time with your own beneath the stroke of your thumb, sliding down the strong tendon to where it meets his shoulder. 

Eddie’s lips press and slot with yours, plush and gentle and tasting sweet like Coca-Cola. He kisses you slowly, savouring the feeling of your lips on his. You pull him as close as you can, your warm breaths mingling as he sneaks a look to make sure you’re real. 

He is gentle behind the bawdy jokes and leather and silver rings. He’s softer than anyone can see. But you can feel that sweet softness in the way he cups your face before kissing you again. Eddie strokes his tongue against your lower lip to ask for permission he doesn’t need. It makes you shiver as that smooth-talking tongue slides with yours, making you gasp. 

Before it can build pressure and turn any steamier, he slows it back down and kisses you in slow pecks again before leaning his forehead against yours. He can’t stop himself from smiling and doesn’t even try to pretend he’s not elated when he feels your shy smile too. 

Behind that smile, you’re aching for more. You want to run your fingers up through his curls and tug, be kissed breathless by him. You want a hundred more soft kisses, feel his smile on your mouth. You want to feel him everywhere. 

“You okay?” he whispers, and can’t resist pushing another kiss against your cheek before moving back to look at you again. 

“More than okay.” You bring your thumb to swipe the lipstick transferred over from your lips to his. You want to see every shade you own smeared around his mouth. 

Eddie kisses your thumb, before pretending to nip it to make you laugh. “Are you going to be able to go back to the bar?” 

You shake your head, smiling before sighing over-dramatically and fixing a pout on your face. It drives him mad in the best way. “Mm, maybe give me one more for luck?” you whisper. 

He puts you out of your misery with one more long lingering kiss. “I’m not done kissing you. At all.” Another peck, because he cannot simply stop himself. “I’ll wait for you after work.” 

Your smile is too big to hide, rendered speechless by his confession. So you nod, giving his lower lip one last swipe to remove the evidence before patting his cheek. 

Eddie reluctantly backs off for his own good. He had thought about pressing you against the bricks and kissing you stupid too many times to be decent. He still will - it’s at the top of his bucket list - but just not now.

He grabs his drink, downs it, and gives you a wink. “Don’t go sharing that recipe, okay? That’s for me only, sugar.” 

“Cross my heart,” you tease, sitting on your hands so you don’t drag him back against you. You think he might just be okay with it if you did. 

“Later…” As if he can read your mind, he backs away with absolute mischief in his eyes. 

“Later.” You wiggle your fingers at him and laugh when he almost walks ass-first into the stacked crates of empty bottles. He swears at them and flips them off before throwing one last wink your way. 

Once you’re sure Eddie has turned the corner of the building you cover your face with your hands and smile into them, murmuring ‘What the fuck, what the fuck’ as your cheeks heat up your palms. 

When you have just about gathered yourself, you head back inside and fix your smudged lipstick. You tap Michelle’s hip when you get back, signalling for her to go take her break. 

She looks you over, suspicious of where exactly that coy little smile came from. As she throws one last look over her shoulder, she sees Eddie at the open door, looking just as dreamy and pleased with himself.  

The rest of your shift passes without incident, which is a miracle because all you have been thinking of is Eddie Eddie Eddie. Eddie’s lips, Eddie’s hands. Eddie’s strong inked arms and his sturdy thighs. His lips (again). 

You caught each other’s eye a few times during the night, and it made you feel hot all over. Especially when he was being a total gentleman to some pretty girls, telling them to get home safe. You had felt his dark–chocolate stare on you as you laughed with customers, and shook up cocktails while he watched the strength of your arms and the subtle bounce of your breasts. Knowing Eddie was watching, thinking about how he might kiss you again later, made you slick with desire and excitement. 

You ring the bell for last call at 2 a.m. as your feet burn, and arms ache. There’s a flurry of orders while Jeff and Eddie close the doors and stand inside shooting the shit together, bidding customers good night as they leave in pairs and groups. By three it’s kicking out time and the few reluctant stragglers take recommendations for pizza joints and all-night diners to soak up the alcohol. While the bouncers do one last sweep of the place, you work through your checklist with a singular motivator; kissing Eddie Munson. 

With anticipation buzzing in your chest, you wipe spills behind the bar, refrigerate the mixers and hand-wash the muddlers and stirrers from the cocktails. The younger guys fill the dishwasher with glasses and barware. You thank your stars that it’s not your night on bathroom duty, refilling the straws instead and making a note for Frank of what’s running low before he does his full inventory and stocktake. It’s a well-oiled machine and your duties are finished in record time... 

Eddie made himself useful, staying out of your way (but watching closely, in absolute awe of you) in favour of picking up a broom and keeping the music going to keep morale up. He leans on the clean bar, chin on his hand as he looks at you standing with your hands on your hips. “Wanna get out of here?” he asks, tilting his head toward the back door. 

You nod, “Gimme two.” You restrain yourself from running to your locker (a quick walk is sufficient and unsuspicious). You fix your hair, blot your shiny face and spray deodorant and perfume again before opting for cherry flavour Chapstick. Extra lipstick this late? Far too eager. 

After a quick round of goodbyes, you notice Eddie and Michelle have both already gone and you rush around to meet him by the door. One taste and you are hooked, needing another kiss like your next breath. When you can’t see him, it’s like your lungs shrink. There’s no lingering scent of his cologne or swirling smoke, no glowing cherry or loud laugh in the back alley… 

Breathe. In, out. Calm the anxious flutters. Is he already at his car? 

Just as you’re about to round the building, the back door opens and an almost frantic-eyed Eddie nearly catches you with the door... “Hi,” he breathes. Relief. A sigh you both share before the smile, the relief. 

“Shit, did I get you?” He puts his hands on your shoulders and squeezes when you shake your head. His hands skate down your arms to squeeze your hands. “Sorry, got distracted inside. Can I... Can I drive you home?” 

Your nod is far too eager and you squeeze back, your rings tapping against Eddie’s. You drop each other’s hands but stay close to each other. This is new and unnamed and you don’t want the work crowd throwing questions at you before you have even figured it out yourself. 

Your hands and arms bump as you round the building together and for once neither of you know what to say. When you look up, Eddie is already sneaking a glance at you; he smiles when you catch him and you both dissolve into laughter. 

“What the fuck, you’re literally never this quiet,” you tease, elbowing him gently. “Say something.” 

Eddie takes your hand again, swinging his arm with yours. “You looked hot tonight. Like, hotter than usual.” Eddie licks his lower lip and it makes your stomach flip. 

“You think so? It must be the drink I made you. Pretty strong…” 

“Maybe. Maybe it’s ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking about you, how you kiss.” He’s so smooth and it makes you feel warm all over. 

Close to his car now, you slow your stroll and lean against the passenger side. “Yeah? Maybe you should kiss me some more then, seeing as you can’t stop thinking about it.” 

“Oh, I’m gonna.” He grins and crowds you against the shiny black metal, bracing one hand on the roof as the other loops around your middle to press your body close. 

It’s like stars bursting behind your eyes when you feel Eddie’s lips on yours again. This kiss is eager and almost needy after hours of trying and failing to not eye-fuck each other. The hand lying low on your back slips lower and Eddie uses the leverage to step his thigh between yours with a delicious press of pressure. When you gasp he takes the opportunity to dominate the kiss a little more, licks his tongue against yours in a dirty slide.

You haven’t been kissed like this in a long time, all tongue and pulling soft gasps from each other. It has been even longer since you have been heckled while you’re kissing someone; Michelle breaks that streak as she wolf-whistles at you from across the street as she walks to her own car. 

“Get a room!” You don’t see her grin and salute as you laugh into Eddie’s chest, hugging your arms around him beneath his jacket. He kisses your forehead and holds you after flipping Michelle off with a rosy-cheeked smirk.

“She made me late, by the way. Gave me the talk in the office.” 

You rest your chin on his chest, pulling your eyebrows together. “The birds and the bees? Where do babies come from?” You laugh when he pokes your ribs and holds your squirming body closer still.

“Ha ha, jokes on you. That’s next week.” 

You muffle your laugh against his black t-shirt. 

“No, just that I better treat you good and not fuck around. Don’t want work to be awkward, blah blah.” Eddie squeezes your hips. “She also said ‘It’s about damn time’.”

You nod slowly, remembering her quips over the last few months about how you two should just shut up and get over yourselves, bang it out or something. It seemed like it was obvious to everyone but you and Eddie just what was going on behind your little frenemy routine. 

“Well then…” you say quietly. 

“Well then indeed…” Eddie echoes. 

There’s a lot for you to figure out. You can’t just kiss your co-worker and expect everything to stay the same, but inside you think that maybe you don’t want that and Eddie doesn’t either. That’s something you both need to figure out, but right now you just might die if you don’t kiss him again soon. 

“Eddie?” 

“Yeah?”

“Can I come to your place?” you ask quietly. 

Eddie nods, eyes sparkling. “Yeah. Yeah, fuck. I’d like that a lot. Are you sure you want to? We don’t have to...”

You rock up on your toes to kiss him again. “I want to. Let’s just... See where it goes?”

A little breathless, Eddie nods and roots for his car keys to unlock the door. He pecks your lips again before you both get into the car. This time he keeps his hand on your knee while he drives through the dark streets, only moving it to change gears. You keep it there, smoothing over the rings he wears with your fingers. 

You recognise Eddie’s street - there’s the bagel place you go to, the camera store where you get film developed. You can’t believe he’s been this near all along. 

He swings the car into a little parking garage under the building and takes the spot reserved for apartment 8. You twist in your seat to face him and see he looks a little lost in thought. “I can go home if you prefer?” you say. 

“No no. Please, don’t. I’m just.. thinkin’ about how messy my room might be.” He twists one of his rings and you cover his hand again to stop the anxious little movement you recognised from your own fidgeting.

“I don’t mind. Being nocturnal can be pretty shitty for keeping your place clean,” you say. 

Eddie nods, shoulders deflating now that he’s less worried you’re going to think he’s a total animal.

You pull his hand back over to your lap, fingers intertwined. “Anyway, I’m not here to snoop at your stuff, Eddie.” You shrug a little, hiding your smile as he thumps his head against the seat. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, I know it.” 

“You should be so lucky.” 

Your lips meet again halfway across the centre console, smiling mouths and ringed fingers grasping at each other, wherever you can reach. A rogue elbow hits the horn, making both of you jump - Eddie yelps - then dissolve into a fit of giggles which Eddie gladly smothers with one more kiss. 

“Lemme get your door, princess,” he says, lips brushing your chin and cheek one more time before freeing you from his hold to hop out and round the bonnet. You could get used to this… 

There are more kisses in the small shaky elevator, crowded to the mirrored wall as Eddie’s lips get acquainted with your jaw and neck, finding that spot below your ear that makes you moan his name quietly, tug him closer by his belt loops. 

You drive him crazy in the best way, he makes you feel wanted - perhaps craved is more apt - as his hands run over the flare of your hips and dip to your behind.

The elevator stops, dings, and you drag Eddie’s mouth to your own again to taste his tongue before he takes your hand and does his best not to drag you to the door marked with a brassy 8. 

“Shit,” he mutters, fighting with his keys to find the right one as you slip a hand up the side of his t-shirt, feeling the trail of hair below his navel to scratch through. 

“You’re a demon. An actual devil woman,” he hisses, resting his forehead against the door as he lets you distract him for a second. Before you can tease him anymore, Eddie turns and takes your face gently in one hand. “You actually want to come in or am I going to need to put you over my shoulder and bring you back to the car?” 

His eyes are burning with want, lips pink and puffy from your kisses. He watches your pupils blow wide and sees the gulp in your throat. 

“You gonna behave?” 

All you can do is nod, brain static with want, accept a kiss on the pout he’s placed on your lips, and try not to swoon or combust on the spot while he wins his battle with lock and key. 

Eddie flicks the light on inside and throws his keys in a saucer sitting on a little table inside the door. There’s a short hallway with a fairly full junk closet before you step into the apartment proper. You told him you weren’t here to snoop, but the urge to look around and soak in all you can about Eddie Munson is too good to pass. 

A typical boy's apartment really - an open plan kitchen/living room with a second-hand sofa and mismatched chair, a coffee table cluttered with an empty mug and a full ashtray, a fresh pack of cigarettes and a forgotten Coke can. There are some amps stacked in a corner, framed posters yet to be hung as they prop against the wall. It’s kind of exactly what you expected. 

Eddie twists a piece of hair around his finger, watching you look around. “Can I get you a water…?” he suggests, “Hungry?” 

“Mind if I use your phone? I want to leave a message on my voicemail so my flatmate doesn’t think I died or got in another bar fight.” Sense prevails over your desire to get your fingers back under his shirt, find out what other ink he has hidden beneath. 

“Sure, good idea.” Eddie points to the phone on the wall by the little breakfast bar. You notice a Garfield mug which makes you smile a little. “Back in a sec.”

While you’re leaving a message on your answer phone, Eddie stuffs dirty and clean laundry into some approximation of where they should be. He fixes the blanket and duvet on his bed - thankfully freshly changed - and strums his Sweetheart before hearing you hang up the phone. He takes a peek in the mirror after removing his jacket, shakes out his curls and gives his arms a quick flex before telling himself he’s an idiot - being friends with Steve Harrington has definitely altered his brain chemistry in some sort of way. 

Meanwhile, you have already given your own armpit a sniff and fixed your hair in the reflection of Eddie’s microwave before you hear his boots on the wood floor again. 

“Did you get prettier while I was..?” he looks between you and his left-ajar door glowing with the bedside lamp he had left on. 

You roll your eyes at him before following him to sit on the sofa, leaving your bag and jacket on the well-worn cushion of the armchair next to it. He flicks some music on low and relaxes back into the cushions, watching you decide where to put yourself. 

“Any time you want to go, just say. I’ll drive you home,” he says quietly. You can feel the warmth of his arm where it stretches across the back of the sofa.

Scooting closer, you turn your body to face him a little more. “Thank you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be, Ed. Promise.”

He nods and welcomes you back under his arm, pressing his lips to your head while one big hand squeezes the top of your arm. “You smoke?” he asks, nodding to a little box like the lockbox you have for petty cash at work. When he flicks it open, you see some pre-rolled joints, papers and a bag of green. 

“Oh shit, you’ve been holding out on me, Munson,” you tease, poking his ribs before he sits back next to you with a joint and his Bic lighter. 

Eddie flashes his brows upward as he sticks it between his lips to light up. “Something something… Not mixing business and pleasure?” he says, muffled by the joint. He takes a hit before offering it to you, fingers brushing as you raise your brows in turn. 

“Oh yeah? I think we’re doing plenty of that tonight.” You take a drag with a smiling mouth as Eddie’s eyes darken and flash mischief again. 

“Yeah, think so. Been thinking about it a lot longer than I’ll ever admit though,” he says, watching how your breath catches and you cough a little. He tuts playfully, “Am I going to need to show you how, or are you pretending so I’ll shotgun you?” 

You fan your hand in front of your face to give yourself some air before flipping him off. “Be nice, s’been a while.” You tap your fingers against his knee. “Wait, go back. How long have you been pining over me?” You’re more careful when you take your next hit, raising your brows expectantly at Eddie.

Eddie rolls his eyes as he takes the joint back; after another hit, he taps the ash off the end. “Not your business.”

“Absolutely my business. Go on. Was it when I wore that little dress to the Christmas party? Oh no, I bet it was when I spilt that pitcher of beer on my stupid white shirt… Fuck, I forgot that.” 

Eddie remembers both vividly (especially the little dress) but no, it was way before either of those incidents. “You going to keep annoying me ‘til I tell you?” 

“Yep.” You grin and watch him take a long slow hit. His lips wrap around the end and his cheeks hollow, showing off those sharp cheekbones. “Tell me,” you sing. 

He holds the smoke in before sighing it out with his head back against the sofa to look at the ceiling. His head turns to look at you instead. “Maybe like… the first shift we worked together? Maybe the second, either way, you were shaking up spicy margaritas or somethin’, had this little smirk on your face. Then later you asked me for a cigarette and the rest is history…” 

Your cheeks heat at his confession and Eddie’s do the same. He’s embarrassed and you feel like an idiot for letting your hang-ups get in the way of really seeing Eddie and giving him a chance. 

“Jesus, Ed.” You squeeze his arm, just below the flurry of bats tattooed there. 

His arm sizzles where you touch him - well, that’s how it feels to Eddie anyway. “We got a good thing going though, I mean I really do enjoy it. Making you huff at me and roll your eyes. Fuck.” His smile is cheeky, a little dirty as he licks his lower lip. 

You laugh together and let him bring the joint to your mouth. Your eyes slip closed as you inhale before opening again to see Eddie watching you. It reignites the spark low in your gut as you begin to feel nice and fuzzy around the edges. 

Eddie takes one last hit before saving the rest, stubbing the joint in the ashtray on the arm of the sofa. His eyes don’t stray from yours as you crawl into his lap. 

You twist one of his curls around your fingers; his hair is soft and the curls springy. “Guess it was like…perverse flirting or really long foreplay?”

“Mm, hot.” He squeezes your thigh. “I’m good with both of those. That is if you let me take you out. A real date.”

You pretend to consider it, though you are already in his lap, in his home, ready to give him anything he asks for. “Yeah, I’d like that. Last night was real nice, just talking with you. Just… get me some flowers instead of punching a guy next time?” 

He copies your faux-consideration and nods, “Deal.”

Said deal is sealed with a kiss; this one is sweet and warm, soft even. You both know you are skipping ahead of your date, but as you smile against each other’s mouths, Eddie thinks he might just keep you in his lap forever if you let him. 

Your lips press and slide, tongues tangle and tease as the intensity simmers to a boil again. His hands roam up your thighs and around to grasp two handfuls of you, pulling you close as you press yourself against him. You can feel the hot breaths through his nose against your cheek, and Eddie wants to groan at the feeling of your breasts pushed up against him. Your bravery builds in tandem with how much you want and need him and you start up a slow roll of your hips. 

Eddie swears against your mouth, “Shit, you feel good.” He squeezes his hands and pushes his own hips up, letting you feel how thick and hard he is for you. 

Your whimper makes him crazy-mad with lust, Eddie’s lips feeling the vibration as he kisses your throat and finds that spot on your neck again. He wants to mark it, hear what noise that would pull from your pretty, kiss-bitten mouth. From the corner of his eye, he sees the flutter of your lashes, the way your mouth drops open. He thinks you are so pretty and it makes the ache in his chest pulse like a bruise. 

You direct him back to your lips with a gentle tug, opening your eyes before you press a kiss to his lower lip before leaning back enough to untuck and pull off your t-shirt. Eddie’s jaw twitches as he feasts his eyes on the black lace cups you fill out so perfectly, the glint of your necklace beneath the hollow of your throat. 

He moves both hands back to your waist where the denim cuts in, fingertips skating the bare skin above. “Can I?” he asks, looking up to your eyes. 

Instead of answering, you cover both hands with your much smaller ones, guiding them upward until you feel the warmth of his hands cover and cup the weight. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Eddie whispers, looking at your face again as his thumbs seek and stroke the pebbled nipples beneath. 

Eddie had never been subtle when he checked you out at work; he made playful and bawdy comments his cover story to get away with letting his eyes linger a little too long on your chest. You let him away with it every time, knowing you would get him riled up another way later that shift or on the next one. 

When you look down, the sight and feel of his guitar-scarred hands on your chest make you bite your lip hard. Your palms skate over the gooseflesh of Eddie’s arms, over the bulk of his biceps and shoulders as he learns how to make you keen for him with just his hands on your breasts. You pull him in for another filthy kiss and blindly glide your fingers down his chest to the top of his trousers. You have already felt how hard he is under the roll and grind of your hips, but it’s not enough. Eddie deserves to be touched and tasted after all this time, pining over you. Not because you pity him, you want to make up for lost time. 

His hips press upward, seeking out your touch; you adjust yourself to straddle one of his thighs and flip the hem of his t-shirt up to get at the button and zip. Your eyes are fixed on the hard line of him pushing up against the fabric; your fingers brush over it before undoing the fastenings, making his breath catch in his throat. 

“I want you so bad,” he murmurs, tilting his head up to kiss your jaw again. That makes you pulse right between your legs; you relish the firmness of his thigh pressing against you there as he kisses his way back to your lips. You pull away only to push the black work pants and tartan cotton boxers down enough to get at him, to see him. 

Eddie watches your eyes flash when you see the thick length of him, brushing your fingertips up and down to watch it kick with arousal. You nuzzle against his cheek as you take him in your hand, telling him how big and pretty his dick is before beginning to stroke him. In your mind, you’re thinking about how he will feel inside you and in your mouth, but you try to focus on kissing his neck and learning how he likes to be touched. He’s rock hard and weeping at the tip, it makes your mouth water.

“You think about me when you do this for yourself?” you ask, pausing to lick your hand before grasping him again. The tinge of salt on your tongue makes you want more. 

Eddie nods, eyebrows pinching together. “Fuck, I do. Tried not to, but I can’t help it.” 

That makes you feel hot all over and you rock yourself against his thigh to relieve the pulsing between your legs. “M’here now, don’t need to pretend anymore, Eddie.” Your lips brush his jaw and the way he moans, the way he pulses with arousal in your hand, it makes you giggle. 

“You’re literally gonna kill me,” he groans and rests his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut. 

“I’m not. Promise. Just want you to feel good,” you say, and kiss him again when your hand picks up the pace. 

Eddie’s hips rock upward into your fist. His hand stills your arm and he has to take a few breaths before looking at you - his chocolate-button eyes are consumed by dilated pupils. “This’ll be over real fast if you keep that up, baby. You’ll never let me live that down.”

His head dips to kiss across the tops of your breasts before running his nose up along your throat. His head tilts toward his room. “Can we? Been thinking about you in my bed.” 

You nod, keep cool even though the butterflies in your stomach are back with a flurry of vengeance. Eddie grins, which sets you off too, and you tuck him back into his boxers before moving to let him stand. 

He offers you a hand and twirls you once. “Hold on. Let me just..” 

Eddie pauses, looks you up and down and you know he’s up to no good. Before you can figure him out he has you over his shoulder with a surprising show of strength. You squeal-laugh, slapping your hand on the back of his thigh. “EDDIE!” 

His laugh is throaty and rough - like an honest-to-god gremlin - and he just about manages to keep his pants up as he carries you to his room. “You seemed to like the idea of that earlier, what you complainin’ about, baby?” 

You can only laugh in response until you’re deposited onto his bed with more care and gentleness than anticipated. You lay back to catch your breath, cheeks warm and aching as you grin up at Eddie. You’re certainly not unimpressed by his ability to fireman-lift and carry you. He kneels to untie your boot-laces, then his own. You sit up and pop the button on your shorts before Eddie takes over, removing them along with your shoes to leave you in your only slightly mismatched underwear and bra - they’re both black, and Eddie doesn’t notice or care. All he sees is you, in his bed.

His t-shirt and pants are left in a heap with your clothes and in a moment he is with you, laying you back to kiss you everywhere. His hands and lips map your body, kissing freckles and stretchmarks, nuzzling the red mark your bra left around your middle when it’s removed and lost to the floor. He notes the ticklish spots on your ribs, saves them for later, and lavishes kisses on your bare breasts. 

As Eddie lays his body between your spread legs, you wish you had longer to see the new ink revealed to you but take the chance to stroke his hair like you have been wanting to. He practically purrs and chases the relaxing motion, leaning against your hand when he breaks his trail of kisses to the band of your underwear. The light is too dim to see how soaked they are, a darker shade of black between your legs caused by him, but Eddie knows it’s there and teases his fingers over the damp heat. He smiles when your hips jump up at the friction. 

His chin rests on your hip bone while he looks up. “This okay?” he checks, dipping his fingertips up past the elastic around the top of your thigh. He goes no further until you nod, breathe out ‘yes, please’.

You get the feeling that if Eddie was still wearing pants, your undies would go right in his back pocket. The thought of that alone makes you throb as Eddie looks at the feast in front of his eyes. 

“Oh she’s pretty,” he murmurs, biting his lip. “And so wet f’me…” 

You gasp when he finally touches you, stroking his finger down the seam of you. He swears and shifts his hips against the bed when he feels your wetness and watches his finger come away shiny. 

He pushes one kiss below your belly button before getting comfy, manoeuvring one leg over his shoulder with his arm around for good measure. His curls tickle against your leg but all you can focus on is how his tongue strokes and licks, how his lips suck and press. 

His name bounces off the poster-clad walls, your voice gaspy and ragged when his tongue circles your clit before pushing its way inside you to seek out your soak. 

“So sweet, I knew you would be.” His voice is a murmur against your cunt, there and gone again as he seals his lips around your clit. 

“Fuhhh- Eddie.” 

One hand balled in the duvet, the other a crown atop his dark curls as you shift your hips and help him find the angle that is just right. He is rewarded with a scalp-burning tug and a guttural moan you can’t even begin to be embarrassed by as he feasts on you like a starved man. 

His fingers squish your doughy thigh before he slows to a pause - it’s brief and yet you whine in complaint. You feel his breathy laugh against your folds, his murmured ‘easy, baby’. Eddie stopped only to remove the rings on his right hand so that he could push one, then two, deep inside seeking out your g-spot before you can comprehend that his rings are on your fingers for safekeeping. 

His eyes are fixed on you; your heaving chest and breasts, the blissed-out expression on your face. He knows when he has found it, feeling you gush in time with a wet, wobbly moan of his name and the pained-by-pleasure look that graces your pretty face. 

“That’s it, huh? Good girl,” he murmurs. He earns another loud moan as you arch your back to chase absolute bliss. 

Eddie’s hips roll against the mattress - if you had the brain capacity to notice you would surely die on the spot. Your heart already feels like it is about to leap from your chest, blood pounding in your ears as he keeps up the pace and pressure. He can hear and feel how close you are as your voice gets higher, begging brokenly ‘yes, yes! Eddieeee!’ when you free fall over the edge. 

Your body goes tense and then boneless as he works you through it, not letting up until you nudge his head with your thigh. “Too mm-much,” you slur, hips twitching. Eddie presses gentle kisses and murmurs words of praise against your sensitive sex; he leans into how you stroke his head while you come back to the land of the living. 

“Y’okay?” he asks, smiling up at you with shiny lips. He eases his fingers out, marvels at just how soaked they are in the golden glow of the bedside light before kneeling up and licking them clean. “Knew you’d be sweet, sugar.” He winks and you curl in on yourself as you shake with laughter. 

“You’re a menace, Munson. Remind me how you've been single all this time when you can do that?”

You take his hand, pulling him down so he is lying on top of you. He’s hard against your hip, but isn’t pushy with getting you to do something about it as he lies with you, holding you as you bask in the afterglow. 

“Guess I had this really big weird crush on a pretty girl, got me in a dry spell,” he teased. He smacks a smooch to your cheek and makes a pleased little noise when you pull him in for a proper kiss, taking your cheek in his ring-less hand. 

You let yourself feel a little smug as you drag your fingertips up his back, swirling and stroking until they brush the band of his boxers. “Do you have condoms?” you whisper against his lips, hoping that the dry spell won't ruin your plans.

Eddie nods and peels himself away to kneel up and reach over to his messy bedside table, digging an almost full box from the top drawer. He squints at the date and takes one from the packet with a pleased grin, “We’re in luck.”

You reach out to palm him through the straining cotton, feeling the growing damp spot and smiling up at him as his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip. You sit up, pushing his boxers down with both hands. They join the rest of the forgotten clothes on the floor while you get your hands back on Eddie’s body. You see more ink usually hidden beneath his clothes; you want to look at each tattoo, study it and ask him what it means, listen to him tell you more stories and secrets. But there’s plenty of time for that. 

Eddie smiles against your mouth when you wrap your fingers around him again, chancing a glance to watch your hand - your hand heavy with his rings - stroking him. His hips jerk almost of their own volition; his brain has most certainly gone static. “Jesus, fuck,” he murmurs. 

You catch on a moment later and giggle against his shoulder. “That got you going, huh? Me wearing your rings…”

“You get me going. That’s just extra hot.” His voice catches when you squeeze him again, and he calls you a devil woman one more time. You’re getting used to it, kinda like it. 

The foil packet crinkles under Eddie’s knee. You push his chest gently, sending him to sit up against the headboard so you can make his lap your throne again. Without hesitation, you tear the foil and roll the latex down over the diamond-hard length that’s weeping for you to sit on it. He steadies your hips as you hold the base of him, sinking down through the stretch and pinch eased only by how soaked you still are. 

It’s intense, the burn and the closeness. Eddie’s forehead against yours as you watch him watching you take him inside. The lingering tendrils of the weed you smoked together make it all so deliciously fuzzy and warm. Neither of you makes a move, settling into the tight heat and fullness of Eddie inside you. 

His fingers stroke your hips while yours twirl the ends of his hair, touch his silver chain and brush up his neck so that you can cup his jaw and kiss him again. You hold on to each other tighter as you begin to raise and roll your hips, savouring the stretch until your body tells you to move faster, harder. 

“Look how pretty you are,” Eddie murmurs, taking in the bounce of your breasts and the way your jaw hangs open as you move in his lap. “Yeah, that’s my girl. Are you my girl, baby?” 

You whimper, holding him tighter and closer as you nod. “I’m yours, Eddie. All yours.” Your voice wobbles but not because you’re unsure, you’re just feeling so good, so full. 

Eddie groans deep in his throat, squeezing your hips and ass tighter as he helps you to bounce. You pause, focusing on rolling rather than rising to ease the burn in your wobbly thighs; it makes you whimper against his neck. It’s so much but not enough; so good, it’s frustrating.

“Shhh, I got you. You’re just feelin’ too good, huh?” he murmurs, nodding with you when you give a small ‘uh huh’. “Yeah, good girl.”

Your brows crease as you keep rutting your hips. “You feel so big. Fuck, Ed…” 

“You gonna let me do the hard work, hmm? You just lay back and look pretty for me, princess.” His voice is like hot honey, making you drip in his lap. He feels you pulsing, making his hold on your hip tight enough to leave a bruise as he gathers his composure. He’s wanted this so bad for so long, refuses to let himself (and you) down by busting early like a teenager. 

You nod, blissed out as he runs his hands over your warm body. Eddie is careful, so gentle, as he helps you to move up and off of him. He guides you to lay back, comfy on the pillows that smell just like him. You can’t resist nuzzling into them as he makes his way back between your legs. 

“Comfy?” he asks, palming your thigh as you hook your legs over his hips. He watches your eyes, sees that you are a little more with it now, with him. He can’t wait to see you dreamy-eyed and blissed out beneath him. 

You nod and squeeze his hips. “Very comfy.” He sees how your lips pout, asking for a kiss without words.

As if he could say no, refuse you the very thing he himself is craving. 

Eddie leans forward, arms braced on either side of your head and presses his lips to your cheeks, nose and forehead. He laughs quietly when you scowl all mean before you soften at the brushed blessing of his lips against yours.

He reaches down and takes himself in hand, stroking a few times before rubbing the tip against your cunt. He imagines how this would feel without the condom, feels the hot winding pull in his abdomen at the thought before your voice brings him back. He smiles and nudges his nose against yours, mirroring the rub down below.

“Please,” you whisper, lips catching Eddie’s. “Fuck me.”

The eye contact is almost too much, a burning intensity, but you feel hypnotised to keep your eyes on him as he pushes inside. 

You squeeze your lips together, feeling that stretch again, and watch how Eddie’s brows pinch. 

“You feel unreal, baby.”

He rolls his hips and pushes the rest of the way in. Lashes flutter and your jaw drops open. He feels so deep, it’s like he’s all the way in your chest. 

After a moment he begins to thrust slowly, dragging himself halfway out before pushing all the way in again and again and again. Eddie drinks in the little whines and moans that spill from your lips. 

“Don’t go shy on me now,” he whispers, brushing your hair back. When his hips rock again you feel him press against that spot that makes you see stars and there is no way you can keep quiet. 

“There we go, is that it?” Eddie asks, repeating the motion. Your back arches and he hikes your leg higher, almost folding you in half as his thrusts get harder, faster.

You can feel tears pricking your eyes, feeling almost overwhelmed with pleasure. Through the sting, you see Eddie’s clenched jaw, the meaty cord in his neck straining and the rosy glow on his cheeks. 

“Eddie, m’so close,” you whimper, almost tearful as you squeeze his forearm.  

“I know, sweetheart. I can feel it. Fuck.” He huffs through his nose when you flutter around him and he leans over you more, spreading you wider still as he begins to pound his hips into you. He is barely holding on, feeling hot all over as he fucks you, wishes it could last longer but you’re both so tightly wound.

There’s a perfect press and drag against your clit that winds that cord of pleasure inside you tighter and tighter. Your mouths press together; barely a kiss, more a shared moan. One particularly hard thrust brings you to your climax with a broken moan against Eddie’s chin. Your nails press into his rear and pull him in to rut against that spot, fucking you through the most intense orgasm of your life as he meets his own peak with a husky throaty groan.

You feel like you're floating, fallen over the edge in each other's arms.

The weight of Eddie on you brings you slowly back to earth, breath huffing against your neck as you stroke up his back and up into his curls. You take a deep breath in; when you exhale it's shaky and wobbly almost like a quiet sob. 

Eddie summons the strength to press up and look at you, seeing your dazed smile and warm wet cheeks. “Hey,” he wipes the tears gently, “Oh shit. Did I hurt you?” he asks, panic spiking the glowy daze. 

You shake your head, almost giggling when you speak. “No, no. Fuckin’... amazing.” You pull Eddie back down and wrap yourself around him, holding each other as you come back to earth. A few more tears escape and Eddie wipes them away with such reverence. You stay quiet until you can string a sentence together. “That was incredible.” 

He smiles, cupping your face, and kisses you before carefully rolling you onto your sides to face each other to run your fingers over each other's warm bodies and share more kisses. Once he is sure you’re actually okay, he excuses himself to throw the condom away and returns with water and a damp flannel. He spends a moment cleaning you up as you gulp the water down, then finishes the rest and fills it again before closing his bedroom door. 

“You want a t-shirt?” he asks, pulling on a pair of clean boxers before throwing his hair into a low bun.

Despite the blanket, you feel a little shivery and accept the offer. 

He helps you into a well-loved Dio t-shirt before pulling the duvet over you both. Your legs are tangled together as you lie together, as close as you can. Outside, past the closed curtains, the sun is already starting to peek on the horizon.

You hum tiredly against Eddie’s shoulder when you remember the weighty silver on your hand and tap his hip gently. “Hey, Romeo. Your rings.” Your hand comes up in front of his face, wiggling your fingers. 

Eddie smiles, a lazy curl of his lips, and kisses the tips of your fingers before taking them off for you. He reaches back to drop them on his bedside table.

You want to stay awake, stay in the bubble of bliss, but the pull of exhaustion is too strong. 

“Sleepy?” Eddie brushes a kiss on your forehead and flicks the lamp off when you nod. 

“Eddie? Tonight was amazing,” you whisper against his chest.

He smiles in the dark, squeezes your hip. “Yeah, it was. I’ll make tomorrow amazing too if you’ll let me, but you gotta sleep first. Bet you’re really grumpy when you’re tired.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, hiding your face in the pillow. In the dark, you can just see the outlines of each other, shapes and shadows. “Lemme sleep and you can take me for breakfast. Like a date or somethin’.” 

He hides his grin poorly, you can see his teeth flash even with your eyes almost closed. “Nah, breakfast is part of the package. Lemme plan something for our date.” He gives you one last kiss, “Sleep now, sugar.” 

You feel warm, so happy and safe in his arms as you fall asleep. If Eddie asked, you would never leave his arms, leave his bed. And Eddie? Eddie lingers on the precipice of sleep, ready to drift once he knows you’re sleeping soundly. He kisses your forehead one last time before closing his eyes, both holding each other in an utterly blissful sleep. 

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are absolutely adored and cherished ❤️

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Well since you said it…

Ponyboy Curtis head canons and, if possible, cherry head canons 😁

I'll do Cherry later this weekend, but for now here's some Ponyboy headcanons!

-Has tried to quit smoking multiple times, usually because Darry wants him to, and never succeeded. The second he gets even the tiniest bit stressed he’s got a cigarette lit and back in his mouth. At this point he's pretty much accepted he's locked in for life

-Had to get glasses and HATES them so Darry pulled some overtime and got him contacts

-Worries a lot about Darry, not just because he tries to carry too much roofing at once and regularly hurts his back, but also because he’s terrified of what could happen if Darry was to somehow slip off a roof

-His middle class school friends think he’s REALLY cool (like Pony, they’re all a bunch of nerds) and Pony loves it because the entire gang very much does not

-His school friends are also TERRIFIED of the gang, like they see Two-bit or Steve coming to talk to him and hightail it out of there. They’re even scared of Johnny which Ponyboy thinks is hilarious (he doesn’t realize that Johnny’s dark gaze and bruises are terrifying to someone who doesn’t know how he got them)

-Thinks Curly Shepard is the funniest person alive and is determined that Curly never find that out

-Cannot for the life of him figure out why Johnny and Curly don’t get along

-Tutored Two-bit in English so he could finally graduate

-The gang is split between those who are determined to be a good influence on Pony and those who aren’t. Dally and Two-bit are the bad influences, Johnny tries to be a good influence, and Steve claims to not give a fuck but is the best influence of all in that he’s never let/asked/encouraged Pony to take part in illegal activities 

-Pony thinks Curly Shepard is good looking in a dangerous way. Real good looking in fact.

-Is NOT afraid of girls no matter what that Johnny Cade says (I mean it man I ain’t SCARED of them, they just don think like us, and quit you’re laughing, it ain’t like you have any luck with girls either-)

-Is TERRIFIED of Tim Shepard 

-Is also terrified of Angela Shepard because even though she has the same eyes as Curly, her's are like a snakes, all cold, emotionless and deadly, whereas Curly’s are always twinkling with ether mischief or anger

-He’s actually really good at stealing things (Two-bit taught him well), he just doesn’t do it often because he feels bad about it. But if a shop employee is rude to him he’s no holds barred and could leave with like half the store under his coat

-Can get away with literally ANYTHING in his English class after he gave Mr. Simes his theme, and uses that fact to his advantage

-Regularly falls asleep in his math class but manages to talk his teacher out of calling Darry every time

-He and Darry have the same taste in literature and regularly share/discuss books. It bores Soda to the point where he jokingly tells them to go back to arguing all the time because it was at least more entertaining to listen to

-Steps on peoples heels when he walks behind them

-HATES country music so fucking much and if Johnny plays that goddamn country record ONE more time-

-Is determined to make sure neither of his older brothers find our just how much time he spends with Curly Shepard

-Cut the blond out of his hair as soon as he possibly could, even though it made his hair shorter than he liked because he hated the light colour more than he hated the short length

-Has the worst poker face known to man but is actually decent at poker (because he cheats, but unlike Sodapop he’s good at cheating so he rarely gets caught)

[moonstruckme]

Steve x Wednesday!reader and the gang really didn’t expect Steve to end up w someone so different from all his exs but also low-key think she’s way out of his league??? Found your fics and your writing is sick 😋😋😋😋

Thanks for your request sweetheart! I haven't written wednesday!reader before so idk if this was too much? Or too little? Anyway, I hope you like it, mwah <3

Steve Harrington x Wednesday!reader ♡ 698 words

You hadn't been at all nervous to meet Steve's friends. Really, they probably should have been more nervous about meeting you.

You could be a bit off-putting at first, with your impassive stare and clipped, to-the-point manner of speaking. The few other girlfriends Steve had introduced to his friends had greeted them with smiles and nervous laughter, and Steve had caught Dustin and Mike whispering about just that when you'd gone to the bathroom.

Overall, though, Steve thinks this is going pretty well. Nancy had liked your giant combat boots, Eddie loved that you had the same taste in music, and when the kids found out how much you knew about mages and battle strategy, they'd grilled you for a solid twenty minutes before Steve had called them off, complaining that he was going to dream about their nerd jargon that night if they didn't shut up.

Now, Eddie and the boys are discussing the edition of their nerd game they'll be playing next week (how it even changes from week to week, Steve can never figure out), and you seem to be listening with mild interest when you turn towards him suddenly.

"I have to go home," you say, in your matter-of-fact way. "I left a potion on the stove, and its six hours are almost up."

Steve blinks at you. He should be used to this by now, but sometimes your hobbies still take him by surprise. "Alright," he says after a moment. "What's the potion for?"

Impossibly, your expression darkens. "Something ate my venus fly traps, and I intend to find out what."

Steve declines to ask what you plan to do when you do find them, or how whatever you're brewing will accomplish that. "Okay," he stands, looking for where he left his keys. "I'll drive."

"No, you can stay," you say, as if it makes no difference to you. "I want to cut through the woods to find some belladonna on my way."

He's not going to ask what you want with the poisonous berries, either. "You sure, honey?" You nod, and Steve sits back down. He knows better than to bother arguing with you once you've made up your mind. "Okay, be safe, alright? Text me when you're home."

He tilts his chin up, and you lean down to peck him on the lips, a brief, chaste thing compared to what you prefer behind closed doors.

"Bye, Y/N!" Eddie calls, and a chorus of goodbyes follow you out. As soon as the door closes behind you, every eye in the room turns on Steve.

"Steve, what the hell? She's so cool." Dustin says, sounding almost shocked.

"Yeah," Eddie chimes in. "Where the hell have you been hiding her, Harrington?"

Steve grins proudly. He known they liked you, but it doesn't hurt to hear it out loud. "Yeah?"

"Um, yeah," Max says. "She's hilarious."

Robin nods enthusiastically. "She is! She's so funny, and smart, too. Honestly, Steve, it's a good thing you're nice, because she's, like, way out of your league."

Steve blinks. Okay, ouch. This compliment session seems to be taking an unexpected turn. Up until today, no one was out of Steve Harrington's league. "You really think so?"

"Duh." Robin looks around for support, but only Dustin is nodding, everyone else having fallen unusually silent. "Oh, you guys are cowards. She's gorgeous."

"I know that," Steve says defensively.

"She does have better hair than you," Nancy says, somewhat apologetically, "and that's kind of your thing, so."

Steve blows out an exasperated breath, slouching back in his seat. He thinks you have better hair than him, but he didn't know everyone else would think that. And of course you're far too good for him, but aren't these supposed to be his friends? Any modicum of loyalty they'd had between them seems to have vanished.

"Whatever," Steve says. "You guys are just jealous."

Eddie sighs, his eyes sparkling with exaggerated infatuation. "I know I am. Don't let her get away from you, Harrington, or I might take her for myself."

Steve rolls his eyes. As if he'd be dumb enough to let that happen. He's happy to be your charity case forever.

[acciocriativity]

hii!! i saw ur ateez bf headcanon on san and mingi,, can u also do for seonghwa and yunho? i love it so much⊂⁠(⁠´⁠･⁠◡⁠･⁠⊂⁠ ⁠)⁠∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠° thank you in advance! have a hreat day!♡⁠(⁠˃͈⁠ ⁠દ⁠ ⁠˂͈⁠ ⁠༶⁠ ⁠)

Hey there, anon 👋 Thank you for your support, have a lovely day 💕

N/A: I just want to thank you all for the overwhelming amount of love San's and Mingi's headcanons received. The next are going to be Yunho and Wooyoung's version! I'll get to all of them eventually <3

Ateez as boyfriend's - PSH & KHJ headcanon

Yeosang and Jongho's version

Yunho and Wooyoung's version

San and Mingi's version

Ateez Masterlist

Park Seonghwa (박성화)

So, I'm not gonna lie, you had a long way to walk with this one.

It's a known fact Seonghwa is not the best at making friends, he has some insecurities, now, can you imagine if he has to talk to someone he has a crush on?

Of course he needed some Wooyoung magic to get you to talk to him, he was way too shy to approach you first.

There were too many possibilities, you could be in a relationship already or liking someone else already and he couldn't just ask out of nowhere. SO, he befriended you with the pure intention of being just your friend, he did want that, he wanted to close to you and to get to know you better.

But it was harder than he thought.

You two clicked right away, you have similar hobbies and taste for music, it was easy to talk to you, the real problem was he was falling way to fast and way too deep and didn't know that to do with himself.

As your boyfriend, things were so much easier. The heavy weight was lifted of his shoulders and he was able to relax around you.

He'd drop the whole "cool guy persona" he thought he needed to woo your heart over and be more of himself very fast tho, so don't worry about it.

Now, he is used to be the one taking care of everyone and he wholeheartedly doesn't expect anything in return, yet, here you are, taking as much care of him too.

He's mushy in your hands whenever you do it, even if it's subtle like fixing his hair or brushing something off his clothes. Acts of survice it's his main love language, after all.

Also if you cook for him ( or get delivery before he arrives home if you don't cook) he's a goner. Food is a love language on itself, one he is quite fluent.

He'll cook your favorites foods and you better bet he's buying a cook book full of recipes from your home country (he doesn't trust internet recipes to get everything perfect).

He's a very sweet lover in general, he just wants you to know every single day how much he appreciates you and your relationship with him.

Also one of the biggest with petnames!! I see him being more of a classic one, so 자기야 will be his favorite (an equivalent to honey), also darling, just because he'll like the sound of it.

I do believe a big fight will be rare for you both. Mostly because he rather straight up tell you if there's something bothering him and talk through it.

He hates yelling, big fights, hurtful words, it's his nightmare. He doesn't see himself as someone who does that nor he wants to do it.

If a heated discussion were to happen, he'll just hear you out first, although he wants to interrupt from time to time.

After you finish, he tries to calm both you and him first. These situations stress him and nothing good comes out of that.

Then, he'll tell his side and would take what you said in consideration to have an agreement.

If it's serious of course!

Because is it's not?? He's full on taking personally as if you just insulted his mother, but you just said you don't like his favorite flavor of pizza.

And I mean pacing around the room, hands on his hair, asking himself how he was able to date someone with a horrible taste for pizza and so on, until he can't anymore and starts to laugh.

I see him as someone really private in general, so although everyone close to him would know he is a relationship, he wouldn't expose too much of it to his parents nor to the boys in the beginning.

With time, he'll introduce you to both of his families little by little, until you are interacting with them like you always been there.

An important detail! He's still an extravert and he has a lot of energy to spend. It's a wild ride, but he'll appreciate if you match his energy and go with the flow.

Also if you also a lego person or a star wars person? He'll love to share his hobbies with you. Yes, that means movie marathon on his breaks and he'll let you build with him, he just loves you that much.

He rather stay home for safety, but when you two go out, he searches carefully for a quiet and private place, where you can enjoy each others company in peace.

Kim Hongjoong (김홍중)

This dude right here? No problem taking to you at all. He'll be the one starting everything in your relationship without even realizing it.

The funny thing is, he's the type to fall hard, but not fast.

He is the definition of friends to lovers. He may feel something, but he'd brush it off as a fleeing thing. It wasn't.

He was scared to say something because he didn't want to come off like those dudes that befriend a girl because they were interested and she wasn't available for whatever reason. He wasn't trying to wait for an opportunity "to attack" or something like that.

Still, he is not a patient person and he reached his limit quite fast, specially if you don't pick up the hints he's dropping.

I see him being a bit shyer as your boyfriend in the beginning, just because of the change in the dynamics between you two.

He was the one who initiated, yet he still had to remind himself that he WAS allowed to touch you more and express how much you mean to him now, since he was holding some of that in.

But omg, now that you two are together??? He's not holding anything in at this point. Again impacient man, but also because he's falling hard than he thought he would.

We know he's not that much into physical affection, so you waited for the green flag on his side for that and he did realize soon he enjoyed a lot more when it was with you, actually, he craved it.

I can see him sticking to a nickname of yours or the classic 자기야 to call you. I don't see him that into petnames.

He's love language is quality time and acts of service, which is quite ironic since he doesn't have as much time available as he would want to.

Still, he is a dedicated boyfriend. He works his schedule to give you at least 2 hours everyday, sometimes it's easier and you have more time together and other times it's harder and it's less time.

When he is at the studio, he likes to make little productivity sessions with you, so you are able to be close to him and still do your thing as he does his.

(A whole headcanon about this is coming soon!!)

Also, he is passionate about art, any kind of art, especially the one's he creates, so share that with you before anyone else it's his ultimate demonstration of love and trust.

He trusts you to give him honest opinions and takes, but also to be vulnerable with you, to show a more sensitive side of himself, because he knows you'd understand and listen.

We know he's not the greatest at taking care of himself, so if you choose to do that willingly, he's so so thankful.

He does feel bad to give you extra trouble, even he doesn't in your point of view. He tries to be better so you don't have to do as much as you do for him.

I'm so sorry but if you reach a point of really fighting, it's going to be bad.

Like, he usually is good at managing a heated discussion. He knows when he's getting really frustrated and most of time he kinda pauses everything and takes a break from you and the situation. He always comes back to finish it with a lighter heart.

But sometimes he won't do that for multiple reasons, stress, tiredness, etc. If you really want to fight because of something, ok, great, you're are fighting then. That's his mentality, because he's tired of holding back.

He's a stubborn mf, so he'd fight with every fiber of his body and he'd say it whatever it is like he's 100% in the right.

It's like a explosion really. Also he's the type to recall things and throw it in your face. I'm sorry, he's petty like that.

He could be the one apologizing first, but you have to approach him first. Again, stubborn. He'd think he's right, until you start to talk and then reality will hit him like a truck.

He'd make the effort to fix his wrongs as long as you're willing to do the same, so it would work out.

He would also waits longer than Seonghwa to tell more about you to his members and family. He wants to feel like he's 100% secure in your relationship to do that and that for him means time.

The boys would be little shits tho so he gives up little by little. They regret that, because now they'd have to listen Hongjoong talking about you all the time and he doesn't even realize it's too much, but when he does, he keeps going on purpose.

His perfect day it's you two together, although he rather a quiet and secure place like his or your home, or his studio if it's late in the night.

Reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you for reading! (^o^)

[saucyjothoughts]

This one has been on my mind for a couple of days now, so here we go: festival sex with Jan.

Girl meets boy, reader x Jan, at a metal festival. They don't know each other but meet at the festival and end up making out during the headliner show. Where are they going to take it to the next level? Back at the crowded festival camping in a tent that is a bit too small for 2? Or do they try to find a dark and secluded spot in the nearby forest?

Anonyboo, I am in love with you for this concept.

Edit: part two here

(nsfw under the cut)

The crowd has been amazing and you've spent all of the first day spotting band shirts and battle jackets, admiring all the obscure tattoos and brazen piercings on show, seemingly not a single person there with normal coloured hair. You've been making friends with tipsy strangers, exchanging compliments and feeling good in an outfit you don't normally get the chance to wear, co-ordinating between your small group which stages to flit between to catch your favourite artists. The air is full of the smell of mud and grass, your belly is full of overpriced beer and salted meat, your skin a little sunburnt, your body a little achey. But he's just the same, pushing through the sweat and dehydration to enjoy the music and the atmosphere.

You saw him at one of the smallstages; an obscure indie band that none of your friends liked so you went alone. Long black hair, a nose ring and chipped nail varnish. Effortlessly vicious style and kind eyes. Cute. Slightly drunk. Jan, he said his name was. He preferred their older stuff and thought your hair was cool. Were you here for the whole weekend? You're sharing a tent with some friends with shit taste? Him, too.

You thought that would be all, just some harmless flirting with one of the hundreds of hot alternative guys here (so many to choose from and it's only the first day of the festival). But then he's stood near you for the headline act. He's with some friends but you catch each other's eye and before you know it, you're screaming the words at each other as loud as you can, your voices buried in the crowd. Between songs, he's stood behind you and it's easy to back up into him just a little, close enough that he knows it's on purpose and places a hand on your waist and warm breath on your ear. What are your plans after this last show? Do you want to go somewhere?

You do. His dark hair is a little sweaty from exertion under the show lights and the summer night is darkening. Yes, you really do.

"Somewhere" ends up being through a gap in a fence and behind a row of closed food stalls. It's dark back here and smells of petrol from the generators, but there is an illusion of privacy that makes you brave. It's you who makes the first move, shutting up his rambling with your lips, but he soon takes the hint.

Mostly clothed but his hands are everywhere, his breath this close full of sweat and smoke and beer, slim frame deceptively muscular. You're stroking his erection through his pants, hungry for each other, and he's moaning into your kiss and squeezing at your hips, wanting to take you, pushing you back so your butt presses against the top edge of a locked storage trailer. You don't realise how wet you already are until his hand snakes down inside your underwear and he explores you, spreading slick from your pussy all over your lips, all over your clit. His fingers feel good but you both need more. He unzips, letting his fat erection free, and it throbs in your hand, your pussy feeling emptier than ever, needing him urgently. He fumbles with a condom for a moment, taking just long enough to let you shift your clothes to give him access and then he's lifting you to sit on the trailer and pushing your knees apart to stand between your legs. You've known him for a matter of hours, you don't know where he's from and you're not even sure if he remembers your name. You're a young pair of misfits, meeting by chance and crashing together and he uses his hand to position the tip of his cock against your pussy and pushes. The festival ground is still noisy with crowds but it all seems distant, irrelevant, while your fucking is secret, just out of sight. He has his lips on your neck and his fist in your hair while he's fucking you deep and hard, right there in the open air.

He's slurring compliments at you as he comes, hips thrusting erratically where you can feel him deep in you, his skin slapping against yours. You're not there yet. His teeth are on your shoulder, his arms around you, while you both catch your breath. You figure it's over (maybe you can get yourself off in the tent later after your friends have fallen asleep) but after he's dealt with the condom and you've hopped down from the trailer onto your feet, he doesn't let you fix your clothes. He's not done. He sweeps his long hair out of his face and drops to his knees, hitching one of your legs over his shoulder to push his face hungrily against your dripping cunt.

He's good at it.

Afterwards, you need to find your way back to your respective tents. He's pretty sure he can kick his tent-buddy out tomorrow night, if you were maybe free to hang out again? Maybe you will be. You put your number in his phone. Your real number.

[taiiunknown]

Whipped Cream 🤍…

This story is inspired by my favorite song whipped cream-Ari lennox 🫶🏽

Summary: y/n and Shuri have been friends since teens , they met through their moms . One day y/n Mom get Ill and Decides to let Queen Ramonda take care of her since y/n doesn’t really knows her dad . Around 16-18 shuri and y/n have a on and off relationship without anyone knowing especially the Queen, A lot of bumpy roads both of them ride on with each other , but they figure it out .💔

Warning:possessive shuri,Brat reader,cursing,smut⚠️⛔️(oral,,kissing,strap slinger shuri🌝), death,Angst,fluff, jealousy,light choking 😉,Crying (reader a crybaby), Manipulation, Embarrassment kink, Obeying kink, pussy whipped (reader and shuri), THIS WHOLE THING IS TOXIC AND CONTROLLING SO DONT TAKE THIS SERIOUS

Me and Shuri have known each other since we was around 14 until one day I had to move to America to live with my dad, And yes I am half American and wakandan bc my mom is from Wakanda and my dad is African American. I’ve lived in and out of Wakanda, My mom was really close to Queen Ramonda that’s how me and shuri met. Both of us was 14 and Ramonda wanted to catch up with my mom since both of them grew up together, so Ramonda invited me and my mom to the palace bc she also wanted me to meet her children.

When we arrived at the palace shuri was standing right next to her mom with a smile on her face when I approached them while having my headphones in, my mom snatched them off my head and whispered to me “show respect before I take your phone” she said “hi I’m y/n, nice to meet you” I said sarcastically while staring at them both with a smirk “wow” Shuri said shocked that I am in fact a rude person “Shall we ?” Queen Ramonda said pointing towards the entrance of their home “yes, and sorry” My mother whispered to Ramonda “it takes a village so don’t worry about it” Ramonda said with a chuckle.

When we entered the palace they introduced me to T’CHALLA and he was very kind, After 20 minutes of eating dinner with them and our moms catching up while laughing they dismissed us from the table and told me and shuri to go get to know each other more.

*in shuri’s room*

“Wow” I said walking into shuri’s humongous room “you can make yourself comfortable on my bed if you want?” Shuri said closing the door behind her, I walked to shuri’s bed and did what she said . “Sooo..”Shuri trailed off slowly walking towards me “what do you like to do for fun?” She finally asked “umm…I honestly into technology mostly but other than that I read,listen to music or skate board due to my dad teaching me when I was younger” I said “oh ok that seems cool…I like technology too.” Shuri said smiling while walking away “it’s awkward in here” I said bluntly while now standing up “yea…” Shuri said taking a deep breath “ want to listen to music ?” Shuri asked “sure.”

After spending two hours with shuri we found out we have things in common with each other , from being a popular loner to the music taste . Me and shuri had made a pact to hang out again to get to know each other more since we barely like dealing with people we very much clung to each other like we was meant to be friends, or even more than that, not saying I like shuri or nothing it’s just I feel like we are gonna have a long road ahead of us .

*5 years later*

Today is my 18TH birthday and I am so excited! I can’t believe that I am actually finally legal , I just wish that my mom was here to witness this bc ever since she been gone I’ve kinda felt lost even with the Queen and shuri been a big help with taking care of me since I was 16 and helping me heal , it’s just been a lot and I’ve even been to therapy to deal with my depression and attachment issues.

Oh ya… you guys didn’t know? Sorry I forgot to tell you .

My dad stop calling when I turned 15 so it’s always been me and my mom , But after me and shuri first meeting we have been hanging with each other non stop and I mean non stop. Okoye would say we was attached at the hip and I would 100% believe her . At 16 and shuri was 17 of course , I found out my mom had this very indescribable disease that neither me or shuri can figure out , till a couple months later it was too late , MY MOM TOOK HER LAST BREATH AT 38 Years old . That whole day was the worst day of my life bc I felt to small, like I was trapped in a bottle and can’t help to get out . Everyday I think about her, HER smile, HER smell,HER laugh, HER funny jokes, HER loving hugs, HER supportive ways, HER everything. Saying that I’m doing mentally okay was a understatement, bc I’m not.

*BACK TO THE PRESENT*

(Tonight me and shuri thought it was a good idea to get fucked up and also have fun , so we decided to throw a amazing 18TH party for me)…

I wore a cute champagne spaghetti strap dress with clear heels, And curled hair ofc .

Shuri decided to where a black button down shirt with black pants and a chain with a panther claw on it , Along side some sexy heels she go my for her 19th birthday.

“Y/n hurry we are gonna be late!” Shuri said while banging on my room door “OKAY MY BAD I DIDNT KNOW YOU WAS A PARENT WITH 12 KIDS !” I shouted back bc who was she rushing..

Once we made it to the club I am easily greeted by my little small group of friends, people that came to show love for my party, some of my friends who work in the lab beside me. “OMG YOU LOOK SO GORGEOUS MY LOVE !” My friend rhinestone says “THANK YOU BEBE!” I say pulling her into a hug. “ENOUGH LOLLY GAGGING LET GO GET WASTED !

After one shot, it turned into two, after two it turned into three, after three it went to fourth, after four it went to five, and let’s just say I get wasted quick.

( PLAY , I KNOW THERES GONNA BE A GOOD TIME- YOUNG THUG AND JAMIE XX)

MY song comes on and let’s just say my body was moving on its own honestly, I make my way through the crowd to start moving my hips as the rock, side, to side. I feel eyes burning in my skin , as I turn around I noticed her staring at me with nothing but lust in her eyes, then her eyes follows the figure behind me . Apparently there was hands slowly coming from behind me to grip my hips so I started to keep grinding on the unknown male , bc why not ? . As I look back to the corner shuri was at she was moving her finger in a (come here) motion so I obeyed bc I thought she genuinely wanted something even though I’m drunk as ever, as I got closer she quickly yanked me up by my neck (not in a abusive way THE FUCK) “WHAT TF ARE YOU DOING Y/N ARE YOU TRYING TO TEMPT ME Tonight BY DANCING ON SOME RANDOM AND LITERALLY MAKING EYE CONTACT WITH ME, YOU KNEW EXACTLY YOU WAS DOING , YOU WAS BEING A BRAT AND IM GOING TO SHOW YOU HOW BRATS GET TREATED!” She said in a low shout “meet me in the car, NOW!” She shouted in my ear . I QUICKLY MADE IT TO THE CAR WITH NO HESITATION BC IM IN SHOCK OF SEEING THIS SIDE OF SHURI , I KNEW SHE WAS MEAN BUT NOT THIS TYPE OF MEAN . And not to be that person but I got a little wet at that and couldn’t wait for what she was finna do when we got back to the palace bc me and shuri only had sex once and that was after like 2 months my mom died and it was just sex I needed to relieve my pain and after that night together we promised to just stay best friends and never mention it again .

The ride back to the palace was so silent , I can feel my wetness slowly dripping down my thigh and a pit in my stomach for what ever punishment shuri had for me , when we made inside the palace shuri gave me a quick glance and said “go to my room and strip and you better be naked by the time I get up there or it will be more consequences.” She said in a low tone , I quickly made it up to her room and did everything she told me to do , she slowly walked in locking the door behind and licking her lips like I was a snack , good thing I sober up quick . “Lay down and spread your legs” Shuri says while taking off her shirt and watch, less then a second shuri was between my legs licking my clit at the fastest pace and ever while being three fingers feel inside me , “UGHH- FUCK BABY IM ABOUT TO CU-” with out a thought I came so hard everything felt like it was turning white , “MHM” I squirted while making a high pitch moan that I never did before, I immediately went shy till shuri said “THATS MY GOOD GIRL” she said while slapping my pussy making me squeal a little. “Get on all fours and arch for me Usana” Shuri said while walking to her closet, “AHHHH!!!” I moaned so loud as shuri shoved in with out a warning with her strap while going at a impossible speed “FU- SHURI SLOW DOW-” *CLAP* “HUSH AND TAKE THIS DICK OR YOU WILL NOT CUM !” Shuri said after sending a harsh slap to my ass…

After a hour and 30 minutes of shuri fucking me brain less ,she bathed me and put me to bed after that she gave me a kiss on my forehead.

*two days later*

It’s been two days since shuri fucked me and she been keeping her distance lately, I was wondering why until she came in the lab today smiling and giggling with a girl she had her hands around her waist with . WTF , DID I MISS SOMETHING, I said to my self . Shuri noticed me and her smile instantly dropped, “Shuri can we talk for a minute ?” I said in the calmest voice I could ever have. “What’s up ?” Shuri answered with furrowed brows “who is that?” I asked “Lia” she said “mhm” I said “wym mhm?” Shuri asked with raised eye brow “just mhm” I said turning away and exiting to go back to my room .

“That was weird” RiRi said after I told her about what’s been happening “ so she just gonna leave you WHIPPED like that and bring who ever lia is, to her lab all hugged up with no real answer on who lia really is?” RiRi asked now getting mad about the situation “idk but two can play that game …” I said before me and rir said our good byes and hung up the phone.

*Time skip*

Two months has passed and I figured out that Lia and shuri use to fling with each other so I ended finding me a lil boo too , mykel, mykel has been breaking my back in , but not how shuri use to . I met mykel in the lab a couple times bc she usually the work in the area I work in , just to show him off to shuri I always kissed him in front of her or even let him hug me by my waist in front of shuri and trust me when I tell you , she HATED him!

“Hi babe” mykel said walking inside the lab coming towards my desk. “Hi handsome” i said with a bright smile , Me and mykel only been together for 4 weeks but so far it was going good , “what’s the move for tonight sexy ?” Mykel asked “idk you tell me, Bc no matter how much I will love to watch a movie and chill, I also will love to make a movie of our own” I said while straddling his lap (Right now me and mykel the only one in the lab since it’s 9pm)

“Y/n Will be right back!” Shuri said while grabbing me tightly by the arm and dragging me from mykel lap to a secluded under construction corner

“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MARBLES?!” Shuri whispered/yelled “I’m sorry I didn’t know you was here.” I said “I honestly feel like you are tryna piss me off with that scum you’ve claimed to be with , And also me and you both know he can’t beat that pussy up better than me so stop this madness between you and him RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR TO BAST I WILL MAKE YOU AND HIS LIFE A LIVING HELL!” Shuri has officially lost her mind , Did this bitch just threaten me to break it off with mykel when she literally has a whole Girlfriend, OH hell no I’m finna turn up on her ass.

“YOU FUCKING BIT-” Before I can even finish I felt a hand wrap around my neck (Not a hard hold) “WATCH who you talking to Phambi kokuba ndimxelele uMntu wakho Indlela ebendindibize ngayo ngoTata, kwaye undithembe i wont hesitate ( Before i tell your Man How I had you calling me Daddy, And trust me i wont hesitate)” Shuri semi Whispered in my Ear . Shuri let go of me and walked off before turning back around and said “Do what I told you….NOW!” Then walked out the lab back door , When I looked around the corner shuri had me held at I noticed Mykel was packing up leaving “Babe? Can we talk for a minute?” I asked getting closer to him “ya wassup, And why was Queen Shuri so mad?” He asked “She just wanted to talk to me about a new project that I forgot about that’s all” “Ohhh okay, We’ll what you wanted to talk about?” mykel asked “I think we should break up…” I said with my head down “Why? Did I do something wrong?” “No!no no …It’s just I need to focus on myself for a while that’s it” I said with a tremble in my voice Tears was threatening to spill bc I seen his face sadden and it honestly broke my heart “I-I understand y/n… I’m sorry I got to Go” Mykel said rushing pass me sniffling slightly bumping my shoulder. When he left I honestly broke down letting all my tears fall bc I really liked him and he made me happy, I didn’t have to go through any toxic stages with him and he brung me hope and peace , but I guess good things doesn’t last forever…But this was the only way for me to keep both me and him safe bc everyone knows shuri is not the one to be played with…

After my little break down gathered my things and went home to cry some more bc ever since Queen Ramonda died shuri has been such a controlling,Manipulative,possessive,Mean person who wasn’t the same kind,understanding, sweet shuri that I use to love being around . It like the more I got older the more her love grew for me, And the more her love grew for me was more possessive she gotten.

*1 Month later*

It has now been a Month since shuri made me break up with Mykel and ever since that night shuri has doing nothing but getting under my skin , for example, she will have me staying in the labs from 5am till 9pm literally doing nothing but paper work or watching her do nothing !, Another time she had me do all her work just bc she claimed she has a meeting when she literally only went to Starbucks and took a nap for 4 hours.

I haven’t seen mykel after that night also, rumor has it he quit and moved back to nigeria. I kinda moved on from him but not as much bc little things kinda reminded me of how happy I was with him. Shuri and her girlfriend are still together of course, WHICH IS SO UNFAIR due to the fact shuri only wanted me to break up so she can still fuck me and keep her girlfriend, Yes you heard me I said still fuck me. Every time I even look at shuri she’s already staring and if I mouth off too her about stuff I don’t want to work on she has to put me in my place it’s either Fucking me senseless or giving me to silent treatment. Believe it or not I’m still madly in love with shuri it’s just she wants her cake and she want to eat it too, I sometimes just don’t understand us.

“FUCK YOU SHURI !” was all I heard outside the lab , When I turned my head I seen A angry Lia stomping away from shuri. When I seen shuri coming towards the door I quickly turned back around acting like I was still working on the sequence I supposed to did yesterday but my head was hurting at the time, “EVERYONE OUT !!” Shuri yelled which made everyone scatter out of the Lab , I grabbed my stuff and was finna leave from my station when I heard “NO YOU STAY !” When the lab was now clear she turned back around to look at me with nothing but lust and anger in my eyes “You look so good right now” shuri said as she looked at my black body con dress with my black bubble slides, gold anklet, and white lab coat. “And why do you have on slides in my Lab ?” She asked with a raised eyebrow while slightly biting her lip “I-I-I’m sorry , I j-ust thought since I wasn’t going to be here for long that I could wear something comfortable” I said stuttering a little bit bc she made me nervous I couldn’t even look her in the eye, “What did I tell you about eye contact?” Shuri said while slowly walking up to me, I didn’t say a word just kept my head down looking at the jewelry on my slides until I seen some black and white retro dunks come in my vision , shuri then lifted my chin with a not so tightly grip that made me look her in the eye “I STRICTLY SAID WHEN I AM TALKING TO YOU , YOU LOOK IN MY EYES , WHEN I AM FUCKING YOU SO HARD THAT YOU CRY YOU LOOK INTO MY EYES, WHEN I AM THREE FINGERS DEEP IN YOU , YOU LOOK INTO MY EYE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!!” Shuri yelled “Y-YES” I whispered “YES WHAT ?!” Shuri said while now giving my ass a harsh slap that made me Instantly get wet “YES DADDY !” I Moaned while biting my lip to try to keep my other ones back “Meet me in my room I need you naked and layed on your back or I promise I will not make you Cum for two months” shuri said I quickly walked out the lab to do what she said when I made it to her room.

Let’s just say that’s after that night Shuri claimed me as Hers and promised me that she will never put me before a bitch who pussy isn’t good as mines ever again, After Shuri destroyed me for 2 hours me and her was layed down naked under her cover while I’m layed on her chest “Shuri what happened to Lia and mykel?” I asked curious “I sent mykel away and banned him from Wakanda” MY MOUTH DROPPED IN SHOCK “And Lia was mad bc I did the same to her and told her , Her pussy wasn’t good and kinda dry” MY EYES AND MOUTH WAS NOW WIDE BC WTF?!!! “Close your mouth before I stick the dick back in it” shuri said while kissing my neck , I quickly closed my mouth bc I’m tired. “I Love you shuri” I said while kissing her boobs since she kinda sitting up and I’m still layed on her chest “I love you More y/n , always and forever. You’re not going anywhere and me and you both know that”

Ever since we was teen we have both been

Whipped!

THE END 😛

[4thenookie]

random hcs 4/??

please send some of ur hcs to my ask box id love to hear some thoughts!!

in my hc both sally and the puppeteer are poltergeists and they cause chaos together

sally isn't as sweet as a lot of people think, she causes mischief by slamming doors, throwing shit around and running down the halls giggling at stupid o clock

brian is everyone's cool uncle

tim and brian still eat like college students, they live off instant noodles and stuff

toby can cook surprisingly decent food (lyra taught him some basic life skills)

puppeteer likes edgar allen poe

brian has a tiny notebook full of sketches and pressed flowers

toby does art!! it's very abstract

him and helen do art together so theyre pretty chill

pretty sure this one's canon, but puppeteer and helen are really close friends :)

sally is a GOD at games like mario kart and it makes jeff so so mad

jeff is insanely competitive because liu was the favourite

everyone is really cold to the touch, particularly BEN and ej

BEN is a stoner

toby wears gloves a lot of the time to try and stop himself biting at his hands

jeff has too much pride to admit it but he really misses the bond he used to have with liu

everyone is insecure that's why they shit on each other so much

nobody really likes slenderman (good)

nina got over her jeff phase now they kinda beefing lmao

liu is the token straight

helen wants to get to know everyone else in the manor (aside from pup and toby) but he never learned how to socialise

he waits for people to come to him and barely anybody does sobs

i wholeheartedly agree with the headcanon that brian makes the most shitty unseasoned white people food known to man

like it's so raw it might just get up and walk out

sally loves studio ghibli

this is a bit short because ive ran out of thoughts for now!! I'll be back with aesthetics and music tastes soon <3

[unholyverse]

waterparks // alternative press spring 2023

(full article text under the cut:)

TO THE MOON

With their new album INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY, WATERPARKS are diving deeper than ever before. The result is an exorcism of deep trauma and the sweet afterglow of catharsis.

STORY: Alessandro DeCaro • PHOTOS: Jawn Rocha • Styling: Josh Madden

Between international flights, jet lag and no days off in between, it is a miracle that Awsten Knight isn’t face down in a pile of pillows. For the past two weeks, Knight and his band Waterparks have been head down in a run of massive shows throughout the U.K. supporting British rockers You Me At Six as well as a series of intimate appearances at record stores with some of the band’s most die-hard fans. It was a landmark run for a group who have hit the road relentlessly the past year-and-a-half, with sold-out North American and European headlining tours, a top slot at the 2022 Sad Summer Festival and even a “bucket list” opening slot for My Chemical Romance. Their latest milestone? They played to 10,000 people — their largest show in the U.K. region — at London’s historic Alexandra Palace. Exhaustion should be Knight's baseline, but instead, he's as chipper as ever when he hops on Zoom back home in Los Angeles. There's only one problem. The bandleader has been on vocal rest for days leading up to this very interview.

“Dude, my voice feels so shot,” Knight confesses from his living room couch. “We did 12 performances back to back, then combined with really short cut-up sleep on the flight, 1 just feel, ugh.” Sleep deprivation aside, Knight is almost at a loss for words (not from the vocal rest) but because the experimental pop trio he formed 12 years ago have unlocked another level of fandom where new listeners are still flocking by the droves. “It turns out there are a lot of people [in this world].” Knight quips, referring to his newfound fans. But in reality, global domination doesn’t really seem too far off.

Knight barely has time to slow down. The band are set to release their fifth studio album, INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY (out April 14 via Fueled By Ramen). But the self-professed workaholic has never known any other way. “It's a really hard mentality to shake,” Knight reveals. “When we were a local band, we didn't have any family connections in the music industry, and no one cared, so you had to take on every role. Even though we are not local anymore and get to play arenas with our favorite bands, if I'm not actively doing stuff to push the music, then I don’t know if anyone else will."

In some ways, Knight fears downtime or stillness because that's when he feels like his brain will start to turn on him. He admittedly functions better when he's working on something creative, whether that’s writing a new song or simply designing streetwear for his clothing brand hii-def. “It's not necessarily the most healthy thing in the long run, but people have worse coping mechanisms,” he laughs nervously.

But Waterparks remain his main focus. The trio, which initially formed in 2011, began to truly put the pieces together the following year when Knight enlisted his now-best friends, guitarist Geoff Wigington and drummer Otto Wood, to round out the lineup. “Otto loved classic rock and bands like La Dispute and Touché Amoré, whereas Geoff was all about EDM," Knight recalls. “We all had different tastes, but at the core of it, it's guitar and drums.” Their individual musical backgrounds helped craft the genre-less sound they have now cultivated.

"THE BIGGEST REASON I didn’t want that pop-punk label is that I know exactly what we are capable of." - AWSTEN KNIGHT

It wasn't until 2016 when Waterparks finally released their debut album, Double Dare — an intentional choice. “I always felt like if no one was looking at us, why put out a large body of work? I wanted to do cool shit as opposed to oversaturating and waiting until enough people [actually] wanted to hear it.” There is a common adage that you have your entire life to write your first record and six months to write your second, to which Knight agrees, and from there, the band began making records like clockwork.

With those albums came carefully curated eras — a moment in time with a clear aesthetic, theme and overall mission statement. While always writing music from a subversive and experimental perspective, it was when the band released both FANDOM (2019) and Greatest Hits (2021) that they began to stray from the confinement of genre and inaccurate labels. Knight himself spoke out vehemently about being boxed in by the term “pop punk. “I learned [during that time that] you can’t control everybody, and you can only frame the narrative so much,” Knight explains. “Obviously, we grew up loving and still loving blink-182, Green Day, Sum 41 and Good Charlotte, so it’s in our DNA to a degree, but I just don't want that label because it’s so synonymous with the past and what cynical dickheads or mega naysayers say is just for preteens and kids. However, the biggest reason I didn’t want that label is that I know [exactly] what we are capable of and what our output is.”

Take, for example, the breakbeat madness of the FANDOM single “Turbulent” or the distorted experimentation of “Numb” from Greatest Hits. Nothing is off the table for Waterparks. The group join a cohort of other trailblazing acts like Bring Me the Horizon and Paramore, who both successfully pivoted away from the late Warped Tour circuit in favor of mainstream appeal without losing any substance. “There's a song for everybody, and I once tweeted that anyone who doesn't like Waterparks just doesn't like Waterparks yet,” Knight says confidently.

If you have yet to be on board with the band's music, you've at the very least been entertained by — or seen — Knight's fiery social media presence.

It's undeniable that Waterparks’ meteoric rise has stemmed from the bandleader’s unofficial side hustle as a social media celebrity. And at times, his online presence can feel truly monolithic in scale, something Knight has attempted to analyze over the years in many songs, including the aptly titled “You'd Be Paranoid Too (If Everyone Was Out To Get You)" When asked if his status as an extremely online figure has influenced the band’s latest album, INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY, Knight isn't entirely sure but reveals that he has had to set boundaries nonetheless, as someone who's regularly met with constant praise and vicious internet trolls. “I try not to let it influence things too much [lately], and with therapy, I've learned that you can only control yourself. However, that doesn’t mean I'm not still vulnerable in the music that I write.”

He tackles the subject on INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY with closer "A NIGHT OUT ON EARTH" and parts of the song “RITUAL,” where he recalls when he felt things were “caving in" around him due to the pressures of constant attention. “There are people who listen to Waterparks who aren't on Twitter. and then there are those who view the band in this bubble where it's just them and the people who reply to the tweets,” Knight resigns.

But beyond the topic of social media, Knight gets admittedly “introspective” on the record. When asked to discuss the overall lyrical themes and concepts behind INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY, he takes a deep breath and delivers a warning: Things might get a little turbulent.

“There is a love story throughout the record that is expressive to and for other people, but the album itself has to do with overcoming, unlearning and growing past religious guilt,” Knight explains. “It's something that I've struggled with for a long time.” On “FUNERAL GREY," he delivers the punchy line “baptized in my spit,” which is a playful twist on a weighted subject. The theme of religious guilt doesn’t just apply to the overall lyrics of the record but also extends to the album's striking cover art, which at first glance appears to be an image of a blue frog over a red backdrop; in actuality, it possesses a much more poignant meaning.

“Frogs have always been one of my favorite animals,” Knight reflects. “However, when I learned that frogs were seen as dirty and unclean in a biblical context, it was interesting to me that something that I saw as so good, natural and beautiful could also be seen as a bad thing through a biblical lens.” In other words, the concept of shame plagued the charismatic bandleader for as long as he can remember, and INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY was the moment for Knight to finally face his trauma head-on and “come to terms with himself” once and for all. That explains why a majority of the new songs possess “hypersexualized” energy — a conscious rebellion against a conservative past. “Growing up in church, you're taught that everything is so wrong and bad. I always felt like shit, so [this album] is the breakaway from that specifically.”

By overcoming his religious guilt, Knight was able to tap into an evolved sense of self-worth that he’s since applied to his very own love life, which he details on the album's stripped-down ballad “CLOSER.” “My concept of love has changed throughout the years, and that song is about [looking at the past] and realizing that when I was younger, it was maybe more of an obsession. Now I'm taking it apart and learning more about love and the way I present the current version of myself to other people.” Inversely, there is the alt-radio-ready anthem “BRAINWASHED,” where Knight admits that he still wrestles with the idea of true love, constantly making sure that he’s not just wrapped up in the “honeymoon phase.” Knight jokes that this track and “FUCK ABOUT IT” which features a guest vocal spot from blackbear, are “polar opposites,” as the latter couldn't be further from the “hyperfixation” he details in “BRAINWASHED.," once again proving that he feels the most comfortable when inserting juxtaposition wherever he can.

"I've learned that you can ONLY CONTROL YOURSELF. However, that doesn’t mean I'm not still vulnerable in the music that I write." - AWSTEN KNIGHT

Beyond the emotional clarity that Knight gained during the creation of INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY, it's the album's sonic risks and exploration that he is the most fired up about. Though Knight wanted the band to return to their more guitar-driven and organic roots for certain parts of the LP, much of the record ventures into eclectic territory, with hyperpop, trap, synthwave and even subtle elements of hard rock and nu metal. “RITUAL, ‘A NIGHT OUT ON EARTH, ‘REAL SUPER DARK’ and ‘ST*RFUCKER' are the craziest instrumentals we have done ever,” Knight exclaims. “I love the idea of taking something like a guitar or my voice and making it sound entirely like something else” “A NIGHT OUT ON EARTH,” however, is what Knight describes as “the biggest production flex,” and it most definitely shows. “There's fucking elephant sounds in there and weird Batman villain-sounding horns — it's evil and heavy, and not to mention, the outro is just game over,” he says.

Beyond production, Knight pushes his voice and stretches the idea of what constitutes a strong hook on INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY. With “END OF THE WATER (FEEL),” Knight is at his most “bombastic,” in a “cartoon-like” state, weaving falsetto melodies that are meant to shock. “I always make a mental note when I hear a song that makes me go…" He pauses, imitating an explosion. “For me, that's when I hear some high-ass vocals that I'm not expecting.” Even on the first day of demoing “END OF THE WATER (FEEL)” in his home studio, Knight was already so confident in the song that he called longtime producer and collaborator Zakk Cervini and “essentially” forced him to come over to his house right then to help finish it. “I also want the record to show that I had a mustache [during this time], too,” Knight laughs.

With collaboration on the brain, Knight is the first to admit that for many years, he was precious about his art and was hesitant to work with others. However, during the COVID-19 pandemic and quarantine, Knight changed his mind, which was evident on Waterparks’ previous album, Greatest Hits. This time around, Knight, who's an outspoken fan of the U.K. boy band One Direction, finally got a chance to live out one of his dreams by working with esteemed songwriter Julian Bunetta, who co-wrote beloved One Direction classics like “Olivia,” “Infinity” and “Best Song Ever,” among others. “I flew to [Julian's] place in Nashville, and we ended up making five songs together, two of them being ‘FUNERAL GREY" and ‘BRAINWASHED,” Knight recalls. And while he still plans to keep the majority of his music close to his chest long term, he won't rule anything out. Knight would undoubtedly jump at the chance to work with everyone from Post Malone and Damon Albarn to Donald Glover and Toby Keith.

"I'd rather make the coolest f*cking thing, RATHER THAN HOLD BACK and make something that wasn't that good." -AWSTEN KNIGHT

Now, with the band's new LP incoming, there raises the question: Does Knight feel a sense of relief after both exorcising his deepest traumas and inviting listeners on his journey to self- discovery? "I still feel pressure with it," Knight concedes. “It would be a lot easier if only strangers heard this, but everyone in my whole fucking life is going to hear this album, so that's what makes it strange." But he's never let any awkwardness or controversy hinder the artistic output. "I wasn't not in trouble when I put out a song like [2018's] 'TANTRUM' where I listed a bunch of dudes I wanted to kill, calling out by name," Knight acknowledges. Though his lyrical choices have sometimes resulted in strong reactions, even within his close circle of friends, Knight can't help but accept that he is meant to be unapologetic. "At the end of the day, I'd rather make the coolest fucking thing, rather than hold back and make something that wasn't that good."

Pressures of lyrical vulnerability and transparency aside, INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY is Knight's attempt to "normalize” the catharsis he finds within songwriting, which ties into the album title itself. "Intellectual property is the mental space you give to something in your head. The 'property' may be the thing that you are struggling with. By materializing it and giving it its own world, it's actually a great way to express it and then, eventually, expel it,” he explains. "I want this album to go to the fucking moon." ALT

[theunaestheticstudyblr]

This year we're working on ourselves out of love. We're improving our lives, situations, and selves because we do deserve the absolute best.

We're studying and focusing on school and classes so we can get that dream job and have a house with all the art and plants and whimsical furniture you please. Because that's what you deserve. While the rain is falling, light a candle and go over your notes. Record lectures and listen to them when you don't want to listen to music or a podcast but don't want silence. Tell your pet or friend or plant about all the cool things you learned today.

We're walking a bit more to spend extra time outside and to give our muscles some oxygen and blood. When the sun feels amazing on your skin, stop for minute and just FEEL it. And when it rains, laugh and do a little spin and jump in the puddles. Let your hair air dry after and be wild and frizzy.

We're adding more fruits and veggies into our diet because they actually do taste amazing and have so many good things your body needs. They help hydrate you, help keep you full, and give you vitamins to help keep you happy and focused. Eat an orange outside when it's sunny and sauté some green beans with dinner in butter and seasoning. Through some extra onion into your foods and bake a peach with some honey for a snack. Eat a pomegranate while reading Greek mythology and inspired stories. Eat some chicken noodle soup with celery and carrots while reading on a chilly night. Make pasta sauce with onions, garlic, peppers, zucchini, squash, tomatoes, and mushrooms.

This year we are talking a bit louder, being better with our boundaries, and getting better at taking up space. You have every right to exist and make that known as everyone else. And you deserve just as much respect as you give everyone else. Work wants you to come in but you have a big test tomorrow and are trying to study? Politely tell them that you have other responsibilities that you are currently focused on and that you can't come in tonight. You don't like hugs and people insist on hugging you? Politely let them know that hugging doesn't give you the same feeling it gives them and maybe try to discuss other methods of displaying affection that works well for the both of you. Roll the windows down and sing badly to the music.

We're stretching a bit more this year too. Maybe just some basic stretches to help with stiffness and soreness and maybe some full on yoga. But your body should feel like your refuge and if it hurts, you should try to help it. Nourish it and treat it well. What helped me begin doing this when I hated myself and my body was treating my body as if it was separate from me. If a plant of mine is droopy and dry, I'm going to water it. If my body and mind are droopy and dry and feel bad, I water it. If my pet is hungry, I feed it appropriately. If my body is hungry, I do the same. By treating myself as separate from myself I began taking better care of myself and slowly came to being ok with myself.

And this year, we reflect on our days. Our actions. Our words. Maybe we journal or meditate. But we reflect and find out what we like and don't like. What behaviors and actions we wish to change. What relationships are bad for us. What habits are outdated.

This year, we focus on us and be selfish and become even better than you are now. And this year, we do it for us and nobody else. This year is about you.

[throne-for-queens]

"his daughter's pregnancy was a result of FWB." I'd like to add more context about this, if u don't mind. Just to figure out the reason behind his current artistic choices... The truth, to his own admission, he was a total douche bag with Her the first 5 months. I believe he would probably still have managed to have those romantic/friendly moments while she was pregnant if he didn't treat her like nothing, when all she did before was to feed him, shelter him and be a good emotional friend and a good intimate lover.. I am not saying all of this to add more guilt, I am not blaming him for anything really, HE IS/ WAS/ WILL always BE AN AMAZING DAD! He's really the best dada ever! And making him feel guilty seems like his current partner fave hobby, not mine for sure! I know he was scared and terrified at first (just like a 19 yo pregnant girl must have been). His actions are understandable at first, well to a point, thank goodness he at least came back to his senses!

WELLLLL. Him and his BM, despite officially being just FWB, always used to have their lil' friends dates. Eventually even after the babys birth, in 2010, allegedly... "OG fans" hear her voice on older removed Kellyvisions shot in 2010. These friends dates would sometimes include Dub, Slim and her best friend too. AFTER they had to leave the apartment him & Slim shared, they started hanging together in Ash's mom basement too. But also, they also used to have their outings alone too, just the two of them. They did more than just sleep together, they bonded over a lot, we know for sure over sharing the same musical taste and the same/ similar political, moral, philosophical views. So, while she was not being busy working and studying and while he was not working for Red Bull and or writing/ recording/ performing, if he only didn't mess the first 5 months up, they probably could have spent the summer of '09 together, sunbathing with the belly in Put in Bay, dipping feet in lake Erie, swimming in Beachwood water park, going to summer fairs together, riding ferris wheels, window shopping at thrifty vintage shops and going to many other places they enjoyed. But it never happened, I suppose, judging from how much he looks like he needed "🤰👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨" in LR music video. Well, he also tweeted, soon after his daughter was born, he wished his baby mama was actually deep down cool with him, not just on the surface. Or something like that. And he also agreed with Rover (he's always so honest & fully transparent with him! 😭) when the interviewer said his BM must be pissed for how he acted at first but now she chooses to make it work for the sake of the child. (That is the same interview he opened up about a miscarriage 😢).

But can anybody really blame her? We know she was kind and forgiving enough to allow him back in her life and he must have been around her towards the end of the pregnancy term, enough to know her snacks/her chocolate(?) pregnancy cravings (i wish i could remember this interview were he hinted at it, it was '10/'11 🍫🍫). She was also gracious enough to allow him to be next to her in the delivery room while pushing the baby out. The source of the delivery room chronicles is in Power 106 Los Angeles radio where we really got to see, maybe for the first time ever, his Don Blonde ��🏼/ El Diablo 😈 sides &... not the radio hosts giving him a Japanese Snake aphrodisiac and joking about him knock up a Latina in their elevator🤣 They threw the whole damn tree. Multiple trees. Every tree known. Forget a shade!

Btw, I have no idea if they actually ever went before to those places I listed in CLE. I guess these were the go-to places at the time. All I know about him is from what he chose to share to the public. Anyways, I have my own LITTLE theory. I 🔮believe🔮he worked at Bed Bath and Beyond JUST to win her over. It's a theory. Just a theory. Just a theory. Would make more sense if we had proof she ever worked there too but there is no chance that will ever happen. That's OK tho, not the tiniest bit mad about it. Well, He's the type who'd totally take an odd job (for a new rapper), put his ego and pride to the side, just to win somebody back. I mean, at least I can see that. he was also the same person cracking jokes in the delivery room just to cheer her up (source: always the same old Power 106 Los Angeles interview👼🏼/😈). The BB&B job must have been in time frame between Chipotle job (the same sketchy Chipotle where they found a body at, years later😱) and the Red Bull job Ashleigh managed to find him. Btw, the source of him working at BB&B is the interview for Tommy's Lee wife (Britney/Britanny) 2019 Worst Firsts Podcast where he was invited as a guest. I know he usually always says he was fired from Chitpole, and that was his last job but I think he quit on his own (or was actually Indeed fired) just to PURPOSEFULLY go through a two week of training to work at BB&B 🛀l.

SORRY FOR THE LONG ASS COMMENT. If you ignore it, there's no problem. I'm OK with it. Take all the time you need, if you even wanted to address this or post it in the first place. byebye.

Definitely not ignoring, I was trying to find some of the videos you're referencing, but it's so hard to find anything pre Megan without google bringing her up. He's always mentioned how level headed and cool Casie's mother is, and I believe she was heading to college while he was still in high school so her maturity towards the pregnancy tracks.

[lyssiesleakedmemos]

My first mmf threesome (Walter & Cullen)

Real life 🌶

It was in the years of seemingly endless firsts, maybe too many for any 19 year old girl to experience without losing her mind and weaving life-long fixations into her core.

I felt the first taste of intoxicating freedom, and I did so alongside the most unusual characters. My bf Walter was a walking contradiction in every sense. All American boy who would channel gg Allen if there was a full moon.. The unappreciated nice one of the group who was secretly more vicious than the crowd combined. The less desirable "fat one" who would teach you that he only needed the attention of 2 women to be a relentless heartbreaker. But I was every bit as toxic. In those days, I was a bleach blonde wannabe porn star who was addicted to attention and lived for drama. When he betrayed me, I'd return the favor. If i showed him crazy, he'd show me a medical emergency. I often wondered how we ever were a couple when we both seemed so self consumed that it couldn't have left room for love in any meaningful way. It took a mutual friend to theorize we both unknowingly used each other to experiment at a time where we were young and figuring everything out and that perhaps we needed that.. it eased the discomfort of the blood-stained memories.

And experiment we did for all we lacked in chemistry we made up for in the bedroom, living room, and public pools. There is nothing he wouldn't try at the drop of a hat, and most everything he ever did, he did well. Sex, blood, and rock n roll were a way of life, and I regret to this day never appreciating it for what it was.

Let's revisit toxic. Enter Walter's best friend Cullen. The one I was in love with. Now, before anyone passes judgement, I wasn't knowingly being deceptive, wasn't emotionally cheating, I was, however, deeply in denial. I gave every excuse in the book for why I hung on his every word and got lost in his eyes. He was attractive if you liked slightly older grunge guys in bands who looked the part. Remembering him as a "big deal" in the halls of HS did make me feel some sort of way now sitting in his garage drinking till the sun came up. That made it easy to hold on to denial.. I just "felt cool, and he's nice to look at" Id protest. If only I knew then how many attractive men of status I'd go on to leave unread.. I would have known the real trouble I was in.

It was him. Something mostly indescribable in the way he spoke to me. The way his kind words seemed to be carved out of this brooding cold shell from a warm secret place and his cruel ones always felt like a challenge I could take. When we argued, it felt like looking in a mirror. I knew we'd be a nightmare together but it didn't stop me from picturing us like an 2000s rock music video, fucking and fighting. My mascara running while he smashes a bottle. There was something about him that had a hold on me.

So when I found myself between them after everyone else left the party liquor still blurring reality, would you blame me for not thinking of the consequences of tomorrow? Would you blame me for not thinking of the angel on earth who was Cullens GF?

*You should blame me, of course. I did and promptly confessed in the weeks following. I was given more understanding than I was worth, but I paid in the end for being so selfish.*

I sat torn and tingling between them after Cullen brought up the idea of the 3 of us having a little fun. I was so caught off guard by the suggestion that i thought it might be a joke that went on a bit too long. He never indicated any interest prior to this moment, but now he was shamelessly begging to experience me. I protested multiple times, but I knew the temptation was in the inflection of my voice and written on my face. I wanted it. They each put a hand on my thighs, sliding them higher, watching with satisfaction as my defenses crumbled. "Come on, it'll be fun" Of course it fucking would be. They toyed with me until I was trembling, I stood no chance in this game.

Briefly, I thought I escaped their grasp, Walter had to run downstairs, but before I could sigh in relief, I was face to face with Cullen on the sofa.  The look in his eyes, he cornered his prey. "So if I kissed you right now.. you wouldn't kiss me back?" Despite my heart racing, I managed to muster "why don't you try and see?"

He did not hesitate grabbing the side of my face and pulling it towards his, he won, but rather than devouring me, he kissed me with agonizing passion. His tongue tangled in mine and sent chills down my body. I could have kissed him for hours. That kiss ruined me forever.

It was over too soon, pulling away to greet Walter, who was now standing in the doorway. I was ready to negotiate, I mean, essentially, he walked in on me kissing his best friend, and it didn't feel right to not include him in the fun.. right?

"Okay.. but not all the way, " I asserted as if I could get away with a moral misdemeanor and avoid the felony charge.

They didn't argue leading me to Walter's bed in the dimly lit room I knew all too well. I laid myself down in the middle, aching to be preyed upon, Cullen wasted no time asking Walter's permission to taste me. It was dark, but attentively I watched him disappear between my thighs. The man who always seemed "above it" and disinterested in everything became a desperate frenzy of tongue and fingers between MY thighs. It wasn't enough anymore. By the time he emerged, I was ready for him, I let him slide himself inside me, thrusting while he kissed me, and my fingers got lost in his hair. Fuck how many times did i picture running my fingers through his hair? Now I lay under the weight of him buried inside me living out my wildest fantasies.

Now Walter was ready and I braced myself for the rougher fucking I was used to he flipped me over and shoved his cock into me while Cullen put his in my face, I was noticeably louder and through my gasps and pants I managed to get Cullen in my mouth. The challenge of trying to keep sucking while being pounded from behind thrilled me. I watched Cullen intently, "don't you love her tongue rings?" Walter boasted. "Fuck, I do now." Was all he managed to say.

Eventually, they couldn't resist marking "effiel tower" off their bucket list, realizing the opportunity bent over between them, high fiving over me. "Oh God" I muttered only for Walter to order me to "shut the fuck up and suck his dick." So I did, those words in that domineering tone flipped a switch in me forever. Walter had the power, Cullen had the passion and I was a merely a quivering puddle between them.

They took turns cumming on me and I loved the feeling, the filth in that moment of being used, enjoyed and discarded. Paired with the very different feeling.. a bond that formed from being a first we all shared together that night, like criminals decompressing in the safe house after the heist. We gathered on the couch to watch... oh who the fuck cares until daylight crept through the windows. Oh, how I despised the sun.

That not where the story ends.

That's not where these characters die off especially not Cullen.. no, those stories lead right back to the present day.

I said I'd never tell them, but he said a lot of things too.

So I ask you? Can you keep a secret?

[feilien]

rp preferences -

knowing your partner can potentially make writing together a lot easier.

basics

✧ NAME: J

✧ PRONOUNS: they/them, but cool with any

✧  SEXUALITY: ace & panromantic

✧  TAKEN OR SINGLE: very happily taken by @thiefofcrows

three facts

when i get pretty bored with my hobbies i sometimes sign up for online courses, forget about them, and then finish the coursework within the span of one week. i'm currently taking an online course on latin.

my music taste is all over the place, i like girl groups and indie/alternative most of the time, but i also need to blast yoyo ma or tchaikovsky's swan lake on my loudspeakers sometimes.

i am friends with some honest to god local celebrities, and i fear the day that someone thinks to use one of them as a faceclaim because i wouldn't really know how to explain why i refuse to write against or use them. "did they do something problematic" no my guy, i just used to help this guy with homework in college and know too much about his escapades.

experience

✧   HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?): If we're talking proper proper writing (in English) then around ten years; if we're talking general rp (and count non-English) then we're looking at about 17 years

✧   PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED: tumblr, and discord (and aim, while it still existed); also animexx and forums back in the day

✧   BEST EXPERIENCE: Some of the friends I made along that way, as corny as that sounds. There are people I've known for over ten years now, and who I've seen (and will again see) in person multiple times

muse preferences

✧   FEMALE OR MALE: Male. I've just never been able to write females for some reason

✧  FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT: Generally angst, though I very much enjoy fluff thrown into it from time to time to balance things out. Smut is rare to non-existent, bc there's just been too many bad and awkward experiences. Rare exclusions apply if I know someone well enough and have a deeply established ship.

✧   PLOTS OR MEMES: Plots ten times out of ten for new interactions for sure. Memes are cool once there's been a dynamic established that I can work off of.

✧   LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: Mine? Always long bc I have zero chill lmao. I do try to keep it medium sometimes to not scare people away. Short? Impossible for me for some reason. Literally struggle with short stuff. A lot.

✧   BEST TIME TO WRITE: Ngl, at work most of the time. Now and again after work if I still have the energy.

✧ ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): Like Matt? Not really. Wish I was though. I admire him for his ability to remain soft and happy and just generally for the person he is, although I don't envy him for the rest. The more grumpy muses I used to write... Yeah, personality-wise I tend to be a lot like them lmao.

tagged by: @destroyedthere (thank you <3) tagging: Don't really have anyone to tag :/

[alykatsevents]

I saw your match-ups open and I had to try because I think I know who i'd be matched with, but its interesting to see if other people see the same- But also doing multiple cause i'm curious

Could I get a romantic Male match-up, for Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, and FNAF?

I'm Genderfluid (leaning heavy masc and non-binary), 20+, Panromantic and Pansexual. I've got a mullet hair style, brown with some pink dye tips, blue eyes, about 5"8 who tends to wear platformed boots. I tend to wear alt / rock / punk style clothing, lots of silver chain jewellery. I have an Australian accent.

I game a lot, play guitar, drink too many energy drinks, and am fairly silent in real life. I'm the designated driver and father friend in my social circle, the person they call if they are out drinking and need to leave. Scary dog privilege haha. I'm really social if i'm comfortable with someone but will usually let others do the majority of the talking. The king of resting bitch faces. I am very much someone who doesn't take shit from anyone.

I have ADHD, constantly moving and fidgeting, get bored easy. I like modern and old rock music but have a soft spot for soft indie music.

Hope that's enough! Excited to see how you pair me up :)

I match you with....

(Hazbin Hotel) Adam

~Okay for this one I had to get help from @veethewriter so big thanks to them, Now lets get started to the actual stuff:

~Wont say it, But thinks your style is cool as fuck

~He tried your energy drink once and now he's addicted to it

~You kinda scare him, again, he won't say it

~You're taller than him in platform boots and he hates it but secretly thinks it's hot

~He tried on your boots once but he fell

I match you with...

(Helluva boss) Stolas

~He LOVES your jewelry

~He thinks your accent is hot and will make it known that he thinks that

~He likes listening to you play guitar

~While he's really like, flirtatious and horny, he's also a big romantic

~He'll see your resting bitch face and think your pissed off or something

~He adores your music taste

~Loves showing you off if you're comfortable with it

I match you with....

(FNAF)Bonnie

(Lmao how I do a write a robot)

~Doesnt talk at all, even if this is a human au, Mute. Uses a notepad

~For a robot he's surprisingly quiet, Be prepared for that

~Hes a fellow father friend lmao

~Steals your guitar and plays it

~His music tastes consists of just, music played at the pizzeria

[novafire-is-thinking]

Rules: shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist and post the first ten tracks, then tag ten people 🎶

Thanks for the tag, @lets-try-some-writing! I listened to all of the songs you listed (and previewed the Assassin’s Creed Valhalla soundtrack since my attention span is too short for a whole album at the moment). I must say, I like your taste in music!

Anyway, I’m going to have so much fun with this since some of the songs that came up are part of a yet-to-be-created playlist for my Soundwave’s backstory. 😏 10 songs from my ever-changing Dishwashing On-repeat playlist coming up. (Yeah, there’s a story behind the “dishwashing” name. lol)

The Assailant from Arcane

(Spotify | YouTube)

Gladiator!Soundwave stepping into the Pits of Kaon, ready to take on Megatron(us)

Light Em Up by Daniel Gunnarsson

(Spotify | YouTube)

I have this on my ‘To Be a Lost Lighter’ playlist, but my newest interpretations are Soundwave @ Shockwave in the first sequel to my Big Bang fic (platonic) and Orion Pax @ Shockwave in IDW1 (romantic, perhaps?)

Suffer by Harlen Chung

(Spotify | YouTube)

This one’s in my Chromedome playlist, but it applies to a variety of angsty situations.

Goodbye (from the series Arcane) by Ramsey

(Spotify | YouTube)

The angst of this song is immaculate; I love it so much. There is a very specific, heart-wrenching Soundwave scene I intend to write to go with it:

“I can hear the sound of a heartbeat before it goes out / Won't ever leave my memory of bloodshed all around / And I can see a tear on my father's face before it falls out / Oh my enemy, how could I have ever let you down? Oh

When all these trees saw us grow / Cut our teeth and break our bones right here / We'd play with shields made of stone / Share our dreams and sit on thrones, be still

'Cause I see smoke up ahead and I got steel in my hands, we will / Return like warriors, I swear that we'll find glory up ahead, tell me

Where is my home? / I don't recognize the faces anymore, oh / Where is my friend? / The one I've known since I was only just a kid

I think it's time to say goodbye / Goodbye, goodbye / Goodbye, goodbye, oh / It's time to say goodbye / Goodbye, goodbye / Goodbye, goodbye, oh”

A Sky Full of Stars (cover) by The Piano Guys

(Spotify | YouTube)

I highly recommend watching the YouTube music video for this, as the salt flats and visual effects add so much to the music. I strongly associate this cover with TFP Optimus in particular. ✨

Hopeful by ODESZA

(Spotify | YouTube)

Just cool vibes.

Legendary by Epic Soul Factory

(Spotify | YouTube)

This epicore(?) instrumental is in my Iacon playlist. The city was once the home of legends (both bots and stories), and this captures that vibe nicely.

㆔ by Aether

(Spotify | YouTube)

The word I’d assign to this song is “yearning.” It’s one of my all-time favorites.

Doves by We Are All Astronauts

(Spotify | YouTube)

I love this song so much. It only has 2-3 lines of lyrics—a quote by Carl Sagan—but the quote and the whole vibe of the song make me think of the hypothetical collision of Cybertroniankind and humanity and how we would most likely view each other:

“You’re an interesting species. An interesting mix. You're capable of such beautiful dreams, and such horrible nightmares. You feel so lost, so cut off, so alone. In all our searching, the only thing we've found that makes the emptiness bearable is each other.”

Playground (from the series Arcane) by Bea Miller

(Spotify | YouTube)

The undercity of Zaun in Arcane is very similar to how I imagine Kaon being like before the war. When I listen to the song, I have a scene playing in my head: A young, wary Soundwave wandering the streets of Kaon with Ravage that transitions to him walking those same streets as a gladiator with both Ravage and Megatron present—all three of them aware of the power they now hold. *cries in inability to art*

Tagging @onewingedsparrow @karlyanalora @aecho-again @decepticon-nerd @starscreamgirlfriend @knight-says-ni @spiritshaydra @soundwavesweep @sphnyspinspin @localrobotlover

[magooni]

🎶✨ when u get this u have to put 5 songs u actually listen to. then send this ask or tag 10 followers [or however many you feel like tagging] (please do, positivity is cool)✨🎶

Thanks for the tag @punished-lincolnshire-poacher I <3 going on and on about my music tastes

---

Veni Vidi Vici by Black Lips

I realized a bunch of songs I liked were actually in the punk genre after going to my first punk concert, and found this one while poking around a punk music playlist on spotify shortly afterwards. This song is now central to my music tastes and the charm hasn't worn off a year or so later.

Black Dresses by the Builders and the Butchers

The two kinds of country songs are ones where America is good because of a specific brand of consumer culture and ones where capitalism is bad because the devil said so. This is, very loosely speaking, the second kind. Something about this song makes my limbs want to move, so for a few weeks after I had first found it I used it to motivate myself to get out of my dorm room and head to classes. It's still a banger.

Bad Things by Cults

A friend once told me I like music from advertisements and I still haven't recovered. I found this one in a commercial for a hulu show I never watched and was totally obsessed. It's most well known for being sampled in She Knows by J Cole but I only found that out after playing it for my friends/ reading the youtube comments. A good song for being in your feelings.

Yellow Brick Road by Dylan Cartlidge

This one is really catchy. Maybe even a little funky. A little groovy, perchance. If I were a caterpillar this guy would be a wasp and this song a parasitic larvae capable of burrowing into me. Except the parasitic wasp larvae just wants me to bob my head.

Davy Crockett by Thee Headcoatees

This one is just fun. The way it sounds like they get rowdy and start shouting makes its energy infectious. "Gabba gabba hey (hey) - willy walla walla" is literally lyrical genius.

---

I set limits on which songs qualified for this list by making it so they had to be songs I had intentionally sought out to listen to within the past month or so, which left out some songs and bands I consider foundational to my music tastes but haven't listened to in a short while. Even so, I had trouble narrowing this post down to 5 songs, so I picked the ones that I was obsessed with at one point or another and played repeatedly for a period of two weeks or so. I also tried to give a cross section of the different genres I've been listening to lately to keep things interesting.

I liked listening to @punished-lincolnshire-poacher 's songs and like talking about my music tastes so I will forward this chain mail to:

@chalcolith @idontcareboutmydamname @hahagayyyy @octop-ai @madmoonmoon @error-core-animations @whaleinamech @triangularslob @fancyson @milkyyberry

(Also if u don't recognize this blog @quorpiest is also me)