#is it like a prequel?? i’m going to explode

[mithomite]

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 8

Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)

Chapter Summary: Eddie explains himself, and you two make plans to hang out on purpose.

5.7k Words

a/n: Sorry I haven't been updating! I swear, I'm almost always thinking about this fic but I've been trying to figure out where to go with it. I'm started to see how I want to shape the story (over 40k words in, go figure). Thank you all so much for your patience!

Also, I've had a lot of people ask me about Paige and have shown interest in what happened between her and Eddie. She is actually from Eddie's prequel novel, Flight of Icarus! I'll still explain bits and pieces during the story, but I highly recommend reading the novel for the full context. I am trying to write this in a way you don't need to read FoI, but it does give extra context to the story.

Anyway, we continue.

Aside from the mixtape playing in the van, it was surprisingly quiet between you and Eddie. Despite his eagerness to show up and take you out, now that you were sitting in his passenger side seat again, he had no idea what to do next. The sound of Iron Maiden was rumbling through the van, crackling through the old speakers. 

It wasn’t often that Eddie was at a loss for words or couldn’t come up with something to say. After embracing his role in the Hawkins High ecosystem as the resident loudmouth freak he could always come up with something to say to break the ice or cause a ruckus. 

But, being loud wasn’t exactly a substitution for actual charisma. He could hold the attention of his Hellfire Club during the game, and keep them safe enough from most bullies even. But intimidation was different than... whatever the hell he was supposed to be doing here. Flirting? That seemed right. He knew he should be trying to flatter you or compliment you or do something to show that he had an interest in you. 

“So,” you were the one to break the silence between the two of you. “What have you been up to for the past two weeks?”

Eddie know what you actually meant was “What the fuck, man?” which was a really fair question. 

“I should have called you sooner.” It was best to go ahead and rip the bandaid off now and get this conversation out of the way. “I’m sorry, I wanted to but I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” you asked, leaning against the passenger side door as you looked at him. Despite your eagerness to get out of Family Video with him, he could see that you weren’t going to just let him not explain why he hadn’t talked to you. Not that he was going to leave you hanging like that anyway. 

“My phone blew up.” Eddie said bluntly. 

“Your phone blew up? Like... actually exploded?” you asked, trying to see if he was fucking with you. 

“Remember that huge storm a few weeks ago? Turns out that old trailers don’t exactly have the best wiring sometimes so when lightning strikes it knocks out power for a few days and fries some important wires.” he explained. “So... yeah, we just got a new phone today and when I tried to call...”

“So, I didn’t answer my phone so you decided to track me down?” There was amusement in your voice which he took as a good sign. “Seems like you could have done that part earlier. I’m not hard to find.” 

“I’m not exactly interested in stalking.” Eddie snorted. “I’m already on enough people's shitlist in town.”

“Oh, you’re no fun.” you laughed. “You know where I live, you could have shown up at my doorstep in the rain or used random phones around town to leave weird messages about how you can’t stop thinking about me or sent me letters with cryptic meanings.”

“Where do you come up with these things?” Eddie laughed, feeling the tension between the two of you start to dissipate. 

“I read a lot of bodice-ripper books.” you shrugged. “Trashy romance novels are a guilty pleasure sometimes.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a weirdo?” 

“Steve did about an hour ago when I suggested that Bozo the clown could be the shit out of Pennywise from It.” 

Eddie wasn’t sure what he expected you to say, but it wasn’t that. Every time you had shown up in his life, you had completely thrown him off. He was starting to suspect that no amount of “Munson Magic” was going to work on you. Not that he wanted to work his dad’s charm on you to begin with. 

What he really wanted to do at that moment was ask you about your little bet with Steve. No, wait, not a bet. A deal? Maybe he should have asked Dustin more questions, or at least waited until after Hellfire to talk to the kid- 

”So what’s the plan?” You broke through his thoughts once again. “You show up out of nowhere and have me get into your unmarked van to take me to a second location... is there a second location in mind?”

There wasn’t, Eddie really hadn’t thought that far ahead.He’d panicked after his talk with Wayne and had shown up to Family Video on the chance that you’d been there. He’d run straight out the door with every intention of finding you and let you know that he was stupid for not trying harder to call you before. 

”I figured we could just... drive.” He wished he could ignore the sudden parallel between you and Paige. He wished that he could just forget about what happened in ‘84. Fuck, him and Paige never even had an official date, only hooking up in his van for a few weeks before everything blew up. 

Wait, was this a date? Crap, that had been the plan right? Show up, ask you on a date and then... then he’d be on a date. What the FUCK was he actually doing? He was acting so fucking awkward now- everything had been easier before. Why did Dustin have to open his big mouth about this?

“Just driving sounds great.” you said, and Eddie once again tried to relax. Every girl he had been with had wanted something from him. Nicole Summers and Cass Finnigan just wanted bragging rights that they got with the freak, and Paige had wanted him to be a rock hero. What did you want from him?

“Have you eaten?” It wasn’t exactly late, but it wasn’t really early in the evening either. His uncle always asked him that whenever one of them got home, and it had taken Eddie an embarrassingly long time to realize that it was Wayne’s way of showing that he cared. 

“I could eat.” you replied, which at least gave this... whatever this was, some structure for the night. Eddie didn’t have a lot of cash on him, but he could probably scrape together enough to get you each a burger or something. 

When the Iron Maiden tape clicked off and spat itself out, you took it upon yourself to pull it out and look it over. “Got any other tapes in here? I need to judge your music taste.” 

That made Eddie laugh “You and every other person in this town. I have a few more tapes in here.” He tapped on the center console which you eagerly dug into, flipping through the different cassettes with eagerness. 

“Metal. Metal. Metal. Metal.” You said, going through each cassette one by one. “I’m starting to see a pattern here, Eddie.” 

“What gave it away?” He said deadpan. “Was it that I play guitar or the fact that we’ve only bonded over music so far?”

“And Chris Morrison.”

“And Chris Morrison.”

“It was your hair, actually. You look so much like Eddie Van Halen it’s actually uncanny.” You looked up from the tapes and he could feel your eyes studying his face. He was glad that it was dark out now, as he could feel warmth rising in his cheeks at the comparison. Was that a compliment? Were you into him looking like Van Halen? 

“Van Halen?” Eddie asked. “I figured I was more of a Kirk Hammett type.”

“The hair yes,” you agreed, still staring at his face as he continued to drive. “But your smile is definitely more Van Halen.”

When was the last time someone had ever looked at him with that much consideration before? Something in Eddie’s gut twisted as he glanced over at you for a split second to meet your eyes. Huh, that was weird. Had anyone made him nervous like this before? Yeah he’d been attracted to Paige but this was starting to feel different. 

He really needed a cigarette right about now. 

“I hope that’s a compliment.” Eddie managed to say as he fumbled for the packet of Camels in the cupholder by him. 

“Oh, it is. I promise.” you replied, digging out a lighter and helping him light the smoke in his mouth. The world's tiniest supernova...

Eddie hated that the closest thing he had to compare notes on when it came to a healthy romance was two months with Paige and a handful of movies that he barely watched. 

You went back to his tapes, and seemed to pick one out. You removed the tape that had been spat out, put it back in the appropriate case (which Eddie found himself appreciating), and he was surprised to hear the old riffs of Muddy Waters playing. 

“A palate cleanser.” you said, leaning back into the passenger side seat. 

Eddie felt his mind reeling from your choice of music. Muddy Waters had been how his mom introduced him to rock at a young age. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the well loved tape as he pulled into the drive in of the next fast food joint he’d seen. 

When he pulled up to the window to pay, a fresh ten was shoved in his face before he could even reach for his own wallet. It took a moment for him to realize that you were wanting to pay. 

“You got me out of work early, it’s the least I can do.” you said, not giving him the option to say no as cash was exchanged for a bag of questionable but cheap food. You held the bag in your lap as Eddie started making his way out of town. 

“So is this an ‘eating van’ or a ‘non-eating van’?” you asked, messing with the top of the bag. 

“I think I’d starve if I didn’t eat in here.” Eddie snorted. “Knock yourself out.”

You wasted no time digging into the fries and taking a few for yourself as Eddie went to the only place that he could afford to take you right now that might be date worthy. 

Luckily, Lover’s Lake was quiet and private on weeknights. If Eddie had taken two minutes to plan this better, he would have thought to maybe clear out the back of his van and set out a blanket and have a picnic. When it came to music and D&D he was great at planning out details, with dates? Not so much. 

This isn’t a date. He reminded himself for the hundredth time tonight. She’s just a girl that you ran over to spend time with the second it occurred to you that she might have an interest in you and she really willingly hopped in your van and your friends actually like her-

Shit. This had to be a date right? Neither of you had said the word but that’s what it was... right? 

Eddie was snapped out of his thoughts with the sweet smell of hot potatoes and grease was wafting under his nose. You had shoved a few fries in front of his face and Eddie wasted no time in taking them. You continued to absently feed him fries as he found a spot to park.

The two of you divided up the food on his dashboard, and Eddie rolled down the windows to let the cool autumn air in. 

“So... what are you gonna be for Halloween?” Eddie asked, wincing internally. When was the last time anyone he knew had dressed up for Hallowen? Okay, so Hellfire Club did tend to dress up on Halloween for a special one shot but that was different- no one came to school in costumes anymore.

“It depends on my plans.” you answered. “Halloween is on a Thursday so I’m usually working. If I have a morning shift I’ll probably do zombie makeup for work, if Steve and Robin are working with me that day I think we’re gonna attempt to be Luke, Leia, and Hans.” 

“And are you gonna be Leia?” Eddie asked. 

“Ideally, I wanted to be Chewie but I don’t have the time for that.” you laughed. “Robin and I voted on Steve to Be Leia. Robin will be Luke, and I’ll be Hans Solo with a teddy bear.”

“Please tell me that Harrington isn’t going to be in the bikini.” Eddie laughed. 

“Keith said costumes had to be work appropriate so, sadly, Steve will not be gracing the store with his sweater-vest chest hair under a bra.” You sighed dramatically. “It’s like he hates the idea of us having fun!” 

“What if you have to close?” Eddie prompted, adjusting in his seat to lean against the door to face you as best he could. Next time he was absolutely clearing out the back to give you both more room. 

“Oh, I am not closing.” you said firmly. “And if Keith thinks he can schedule me that day he can suck it because I have plans.” 

You already have Halloween plans. Of course you would. It’s not like you had to worry about school on a weekday like he did. Eddie tried not to deflate in front of you and remained calm. 

“And what plans would that be?” he asked. 

“Have you ever seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips. 

He had, once, with Reefer Rick a few months ago when picking up his usual supply. A quick pick up had turned into a game of pool, which had turned into the two of them high on Rick’s couch watching an old VHS tape while Rick laughed his ass off and yelled at the tv before passing out in the middle of Tim Curry seducing Brad and Janet. 

“Once.” Eddie said, not giving the exact details of circumstance. “With a friend, I didn’t really get it.” 

“Did you see it in theaters or did you just watch it at home?” you asked, finishing off your food. 

“Friend’s house.” 

“Oh, no wonder you didn’t get it. Rocky Horror is an experience, you can’t just pop the tape in and watch it. You have to come see it in a theater.” As you spoke you were absently folding a napkin in your lap turning it into what looked like a heart. When you were done with that one, you started with another shape with a different napkin. 

“Is that an invitation?” Eddie asked, tearing his eyes away from the way your fingers moved for now. He found his heart pounding in his chest, unsure if you were actually wanting him to come to this, and from the knot forming in his stomach as the shapes you were folding reminded him of the times he met you before. 

“It is.” you confirmed, the ninja star you had shaped with the napkin was placed on the center console as you grabbed another napkin. “...It could also be a date.” 

Despite the period at the end of the sentence, Eddie heard the slight waiver in your voice on the word date. It was that same nervous stammer that had been in Paige’s voice when she offered to let him move in with her in California, it was the same hesitant inflection that one of his Hellfire players used when they weren’t sure if Eddie would approve of what crazy plan they had for their character. 

Aside from that first awkward meeting at the Palace Arcade, you had been pretty confident and upfront with him. Now here you are, laying out your intentions and seeing what he would do. 

What would he do? Eddie had shown up at Family Video with no real plan. He only knew he wanted to see you again, and he knew that Dustin and Steve were trying to set you two up. And it’s not like Eddie was completely against the idea of going on a date with you. You were sharp, and you kept him on his toes, and when you smiled at him it felt like his brain might short out. 

But he had also panicked when he had thought that you were going to kiss him before. After Eddie’s disastrous break up with Paige two years ago, it’s not like he’d been completely against any physical relationships. There had been a grand total of two other hook ups that he’d sabotaged. People weren’t interested in getting to know the freak, they just wanted to say that they had been with him. So both times, Eddie had made sure that he’d been a lousy date and a decent enough lay before deciding that he’d rather had a date with his right hand and a Heavy Metal magazine.

Eddie would rather the rumor mill call him a boring date rather than set a standard that he’d go out with anyone who asked. He wondered if he had, would Steve have put his name on the town marquis for the world to see? Would Eddie ‘the Slut’ Munson be treated any differently than Eddie ‘the Freak’?

Shit, you were still waiting for a response. 

“A date.” Eddie finally managed to echo your last words back at you. The napkin you had been messing with in your hands was now taking the shape of a ninja star. 

“I mean, if you’re interested.” you said quickly. “It could just be a friend thing. Or you probably already have plans for Halloween-”

“I don’t.” Eddie interjected. “It could be a date.”

He watched your shoulders relax and you smiled up at him. “It’s a date then.” You grabbed a napkin and your green marker out of your bag and scribbled something down, handing it over to him. 

“In case your phone blows up again, here is the date and time and location for the Halloween showing of the movie.” your eyes narrowed slightly at him. “And my work schedule has been hectic but I consistently work on Sunday’s and clock out at four.”

Eddie got the message loud and clear, he would know where to find you now. There wouldn’t be any excuses for not reaching out, but two could play at this game. He took the marker from your hand and grabbed his own napkin, scribbling his own phone number down and handing it over to you. 

“I’m at school all week, but I still play at the Hideout on Tuesdays.” He answered back. “Friday is Hellfire.”

With that, the playing field felt a little more level. Both of you now had the power to track the other one down or call when needed.   

“So what are you going to be for Halloween?” you asked, tucking the napkin with his number into your bog. 

“Oh, haven’t you heard? When you’re the town freak every day is Halloween.” Eddie chuckled. 

“So what, you’re gonna put on a polo and khakis instead?” He liked the way you scrunch your nose when you laughed. “Ditch the jewelry and cover your tattoos?” 

“That would probably scare some of the teachers at school.” Eddie had considered doing exactly that, but he really didn’t think he’d want that kind of attention. “No one dresses up at school anymore.”

“Boring.” You sighed. “I tried dressing up for Halloween my senior year but when I got to school my friends convinced me to change clothes.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem like the type to let other people tell you what to do.” 

“Now I’m not.” you shrugged. “I’m not in high school anymore, and all those people that I saw everyday? Turns out I was only friends with them because I saw them every day. Once you get away from that forced routine you realize that it’s all bullshit.”

Eddie could relate, probably better than anyone else. He was so sick of the day to day hierarchy of highschool that he’d scream it from on top of a table. Literally. 

“What were you trying to be before your friends killed your fun?” Eddie asked. 

“A pirate. It was last minute but I had a bandana, an eyepatch, a sock puppet with feathers glued to it for my parrot, and a wire hanger I was carrying around as a hook.” you laughed at the memory. “I ended up dropping the eyepatch before my friends made me change because I kept running into people. My wire hanger was confiscated, some asshat stole my parrot, and one of my friends gave me a sweater to change into. I didn’t even make it to first period in that outfit.”

Eddie had made it a point to not pay attention to anyone outside of his small group at school, only ever keeping an eye out for lost sheep that didn’t have anywhere else to go. He wondered, if he had seen you that morning in the brief window before you were pushed back into conformity would he have noticed you? Talked to you? You had already been nice to him before. 

“Wait,” Eddie over at you, taking in the picture you had painted for him. “You made a sock puppet parrot?”

“I needed a parrot, or else no one would get it!” you explained. “But then when I took it off and left it to go use the bathroom it was gone. I finally found the thief in fourth period because they kept playing with it and squawking my own parrot at me. But by that point I had just cut my losses and had given up on Halloween.”

“Are you usually this crafty?” Eddie asked, once again looking at the final napkin you were folding into what looked like an old cootie catcher. 

“I get bored easily.” you said. “If I don’t have something to do with my hands I can’t focus.”

“How’d you start with the whole-” Eddie grabbed one of his slightly used napkins and gave it a wave. “Folding thing?”

“Fourth grade show and tell.” you said. “I did not prepare anything and so I spent a full ten minutes in the school library to find something to show. I found a book on origami, found the easiest thing to make and realized that I actually enjoyed it.”

If that was a mystery, it sure did get solved right there. Eddie wanted to ask about Steve and Dustin. He wanted to ask you why him? He could keep his mouth shut, let this whole thing play out and see what happened. Eddie could sit here, and enjoy the fact that a girl was giving him the time of day and leave everything up in the air just like he had with Paige. 

“So I heard you and Steve had a deal going on.” Eddie said. “Something about getting dates?”

You froze for a second, the completed cootie catcher in your hands. Things were dead silent for a grand total of ten seconds. Ten agonizingly long seconds. Even the cassette player had clicked off and was now whirring as it rewind the Iron Maiden tape. 

Then you started laughing. A lot. 

“Jesus, Eddie!” you said, wiping your eyes with the ninja star as a tear threatened to spill down your cheek. “I tell you I have origami as a hobby, and you follow up with ‘So I heard you and Steve are trying to get dates.’ Seriously?”

Eddie remained silent at your reaction, trying to process your laughter. You didn’t seem scared or nervous that he had called you out, and he had to admit that he hadn’t completely thought through the consequences of asking you that question. 

“Who blabbed?” You asked, after your laughter had calmed down. 

“Henderson.” Eddie admitted and, in an attempt to ease any lingering tension he leaned forward to rest his elbow on the center console and held his chin in his hand as he looked at you. “That shrimp informed me that you found me so irresistible that you begged Steve to set you up with me.”

“Is that right?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh yeah,” Eddie agreed. “Told me all about how ever since Chris Morrison shot you down, you’ve been desperate to get my attention to get back at him.”

“So which is it, am I attracted to you or am I using you to get back at a guy I talked to once in high school years ago?” you asked. Eddie saw a glint in your eyes, the same one he’d seen that first night at the arcade when at the air hockey table. 

“Both are true.” Eddie continued to explain, a shit eating grin on his face. “You see, you were originally going to use me to get back at Chris, but then you saw me play guitar and instantly fell in love.”

“Damn, this sounds like the plot of a terrible movie.” you laughed. “So is this the part where I tell you that ‘It started out like that, but I swear it’s not like that anymore!’? Do I beg on my knees that my feelings for you are genuine, even though we’ve hung out a grand total of two-and-a-half times?”

Five times, but who’s counting? 

“What’s the half-time?” Eddie asked. 

“You ditched me at the arcade after I said I’d be right back.” you stated matter-of-factly. “I’m hoping it’s not a pattern where you start dropping off the face of the earth just when things start getting good.”

“Between you and me,” Eddie leaned in closer. “I thought Dustin was trying to set me up with Steve. Not you.” 

Cue more laughter from you as you threw your head back. “Are you kidding me?! Dustin makes me and Steve show up to an arcade and tries to force a meeting with you- and you thought you were supposed to be dating Steve?!” 

“Not dating!” Eddie clarified quickly. “You see, Steve and I only have one thing in common and that’s Dustin Henderson. Kid practically worships Steve. I thought he was trying to get us to be friends or something.”

“Oh my god, you thought Dustin was trying to hook his two dads up!” Your cootie catcher was now crumpled up in your hands, stained with tears from your laughing. “I’m a homewrecker!” 

Yeah, this really wasn’t going the way Eddie had expected it. 

“Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry.” you said, your laughter calming down into giggles instead. “Have I been reading this whole thing wrong? I mean, if you have more of an interest in Steve I could probably set that up. He’s only ever shown interest in girls but you have long hair and are pretty enough-”

“No.” Eddie said. “I don’t have an interest in Steve- you think I’m pretty?” How were you able to throw him off so easily? He could tell that if you had been able to join Hellfire you would have been a menace at his table.

“Extremely.” you said, your voice more sincere now. 

The two of you just stared at each other for a while and Eddie felt that same twisty feeling in his gut again. You thought he was pretty. That was good, right? Did you like pretty boys? You were pretty- he liked that a lot. 

“I...” Eddie started and then dug deep inside himself to find the words he wanted to use. “Prettier than Steve?�� Those were not the words he wanted to say, but he said them anyway. 

“Steve is conventionally attractive but, as I said before, not my type.” you said. “I like guys with long hair anyway.”

Eddie really couldn’t tell if he was nailing this or blowing it. “So, what is your type?” 

“I’ll tell you mind if you tell me yours.” you countered. 

Had Eddie ever really thought about what his type was? Yeah, he’d had ill-advised crushes and had been attracted to various women in comics and tv but did he have a type? He tried to connect all the girls in his mind that he’d been with, trying to find a pattern. 

Someone who actually pays attention to me. That’s pretty sad, Eddie. He came to the conclusion. Yeah, aside from his disastrous kiss with Ronnie five years ago, every girl he’d been with had been the one to show interest first, and you were no exception. But had he actually had feelings for the others? Not really. Attraction? Yeah. Feelings? Well, with Paige he had been far too busy dealing with Corroded Coffin, his dad, and school to really decide what he felt for Paige. Any other small flings had been dead on arrival.

So why did he keep wanting to spend time with you?

“Don’t go spreading this around,” Eddie started. “But if I had to pick a type, it’d be She-Hulk.” 

“She-Hulk?” you mulled that over in your mind. “So tall, green, and angry?” 

“Strong-willed, and funny as shit.” Eddie corrected. 

“And green.”

“And green.” 

“If I had known that earlier I would have picked Kermit the Frog as my Halloween costume this year.” you teased. “I don’t have a character off the top of my head, but I like people who feel.. Real.”

Real. The word that Paige and him had used over and over in those two months. 

“What’s real to you?” 

“Not high school.” you said. “Someone who’s not afraid to exist and be themselves. I’m most attracted to anyone who can let go of their desperate ego and just have fun. High school was boring because everyone was so wrapped up in their own bs of looking cool that they didn’t do anything that they actually wanted to do. Shit, even I fell into that.”

Eddie didn’t want to ask if he was real to you. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for an answer. There were lots of times he wished that he wasn’t still in school, but this time really hit harder. He was starting to really like you, and yeah part of him was terrified of that. 

The two of you finished off the last of your food and Eddie shoved all the leftover trash into the brown bag and tossed it in the back so you wouldn’t be stepping on it. 

“I don’t know much about real anymore, but I think you’re pretty badass.” Eddie finally said. “I mean, you brought a wire hanger and a fake parrot to school for a costume. That’s pretty brave, even if your friends did talk you out of it.”

“I’m more mad that the parrot was stolen and used to annoy me than the lack of costume.” you said with a small laugh. “They weren’t even funny. They just kept repeating what I said. It was easier to just shut up at that point.” 

“Didn’t think to make them say anything embarrassing?” 

“Oh, I tried. But, jocks don’t know the art of a good ‘Duck Season, Rabbit Season’ gag. Anything embarrassing I said they’d just turn it around. I’d say ‘I pissed myself in gym.’ they’d reply with ‘you pissed yourself in gym’. No love for comedy.” You took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “If you’re going to be a bully, at least give me a good story to tell later, you know?”

“I once got slammed against a locker by a jock who called me ‘a myriad freak.” Eddie said. “To this day, I still don’t know what he was trying to mean by that.”

“See? At least that’s funny.” you said, and then. “Holy shit, we’ve gotten off topic.” 

“There was a topic?” Eddie leaned back on the seat again. 

“Yes, an important one that I was very interested in before we started talking about bullies and high school and She-Hulk.” you nodded. 

Talking to you was so easy that he hadn’t realized how many topics the two of you had blown through in a short amount of time. He looked at his watch real quick and realized it was creeping towards 11 pm now. Had the two of you really been talking that long?

“What topic was it?” 

“You flirting with me.” you said, your lips pulling back in a cheshire grin. “I’m pretty sure you were at least, before I became a homewrecker between you and Steve. Normally I’d hate to break up a happy family, but I might have to make an exception this one time.”

“Was I flirting?” Eddie tilted his head with his own grin. “I’m pretty sure I was just telling you that I thought Dustin was trying to make me be friends with Steve. If I had known that the shrimp was trying to introduce me to a cute girl-” He would have shot it down and canceled Side Quest Day- “I wouldn’t have left the way I did.”

“You think I’m cute?” 

“Extremely.” 

You nodded. “Alright, then it’s a good thing that we’re going on a date. I’m glad to know that I’m not coming between you and Steve.”

It was just past midnight when Eddie dropped you off at your apartment that night. This time when you leaned over the center console towards him, he didn’t freeze up or panic. Eddie let you hug him and he hugged you back, his cheeks growing hot momentarily when he felt your lips press against his cheek and he was able to breathe in your scent. 

“See you later, Eddie. Oh, and for the movie- I highly recommend dressing up.” you looked him up and down. “Actually, just wear what you’d normally wear. I think you’ll fit right in.” 

Eddie made a mental note to ask Rick later on what he was supposed to wear for this. 

“I’ll call you.” he said. “I promise. I mean it this time.”

“Not if I call you first, I have your number now. And worst case scenario, I know where you play.” you responded. “See you Tuesday, Eddie.” 

And with that you were gone again, leaving Eddie alone in the van feeling much better than the last time he had given you a ride. There were still questions he had. He still wanted to know why exactly everyone was wanting the two of them to meet again, and why you always so readily agreed to meet up with him. But those were questions for another day. 

“You had a missed call.” Wayne said as Eddie made his way into the trailer. “Didn’t leave a name or number. Said she’d call you back.”  

Eddie laughed and shook his head, guess you meant it when you said you’d call first. 

“Don’t stay up too late watching tv.” Eddie said before heading towards his bedroom. He once again found himself falling asleep with his copy of The Hobbit, the origami flower tucked safely in the back. 

Next Chapter

Ending note: This fic takes place during October 1985. Stephen King’s It did not come out until September 1986. I would like to ask you all politely to suspend your disbelief for the historical inaccuracy of a piece of dialogue that probably didn’t add much to the plot. If this horrible inaccuracy bothers you, please repeat to yourself “it’s just a fic, I should really just relax” which is what most of us should be doing anyway.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

Tag List: @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirl320 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @mistonk @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @bakugouswhOr3 @siriuslysmoking @pookiesnatcher @sky-full-0f-fl0wers @takemetoneverlandbabe @killjoynotes @maelibo

[shadowbriar]

Matt Murdock - Waste My Time

Pairing : Matt Murdock x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 2.7k Warning : (18+) Short smut. A bit of non-con in the end? Angst. Kinda not liking Matt here tbh. Also not proofread as my laptop is still whack. Synopsis : He feared the true nature of her heart. He fears that the hanging question of their situation was only felt by him, that the growing fondness was only flowing one way. Notes : There should be a prequel for this but idk when I could write it. Please nag me for it so I'll have the motivation to write. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

The air smells sinful.

Their bodies were pressed together, separated only by the thin layer of their sweat. Her body was aching, nearly cramping from all the jolts of electricity surging through her veins. She’s lost count of the many times the sense of warmth pooling in her lower stomach bursted like a tidal wave yet she couldn’t find it in her to ask him to stop. There could never be enough of Matt Murdock in her, ever.

Matt’s muscles were tensing on top of her. His grunts were becoming louder in her ears as he tried to suppress them by leaving a trail of wet kisses around her neck. He was close, she could feel it.

“I’m—,”

“I know,” She croakes, finishing the words he couldn’t continue as he falls deeper into ecstasy “Let it go.”

Matt lets out a small chuckle as the bed squeaks with each of his thrust, “We’re really gonna break this bed soon.”

“Well, thank God it’s yours and not mine.”

He didn’t waste any more energy in talking as he kissed her deeply. Matt closes his eyes tight, trying to find and commit to the best rhythm to reach their climax as soon as possible. He was close, but she was a few thrust behind and it wouldn’t be very chivalrous of him to finish without her.

With his right arm supporting his body weight, Matt’s left hand reaches down to her clit. Her feet buckled when his callous thumb rubs her throbbing bud. A small smirk forming on his face as he feels her heartbeat quicken. As much as he loves their intimate session, he really couldn’t hold his release any longer and he’ll swear he’ll explode any second now from the tension.

“Matt—,” She squeals “I can’t take it.”

“Yes, you can, baby. Just— One more,” He breathes, his grunts getting louder as his thrust becomes sloppier “One more for me, please.”

And that’s when she feels it, another rush of ecstasy building inside her. She pulls him tighter, nails digging into the muscles of his broad shoulders. The mark certainly feels like nothing compares to the injuries he’d often sustain from his delinquent nightly activities, but it made him groan nonetheless.

Matt’s face now hovers over her, mouth agape as he tries to keep his sanity as they’re reaching their orgasm. A couple more thrust and Matt could feel her whimpering under him once more. He follows not long after, sinking into the crook of her neck as energy completely flush out of his body.

“That was good cardio.”

Matt chuckles, “Who would’ve thought we’d be such health conscious people, huh?”

She laughs in response, her fingers finding their way to play with the soft strands of his hair. 

Their breathing slowly calms and so do their hearts. Matt now pulls away from her neck, still on top of her as he adjusted his weight to his arms so that he wouldn’t crush her for much longer. He could feel her staring. He wonders what she might be thinking right now. Was she pleased? Is she happy? Does she want this to last as much as he does?

Instinctively, Matt leans in for a kiss. It was a much softer kiss than the one they shared a couple minutes ago. His lips touch her gently as if they were fragile petals of rose. His right hand finds its way to cup her cheek, thumb caressing her jawline gently.

“Matt,” She says, pulling away and looking away so that he’d stop kissing her “I think I want to clean up now.”

And there it is again, the strange thump in her heartbeat. He’s noticed the change of her pulse lately, especially when he kisses her more softly than he usually does. She would let him kiss her for a while, returning the gentle gesture before pulling away as if someone’s poured her with a bucket of cold water.

“Uh, sure. Of course.” He says instead, slowly moving to the side so that she could get off the bed “Do you want some help with that?”

“No, I’m okay.”

The sound of her footsteps leaving the bed becomes louder in his ears as she gets further away. A bitter sense of resentment builds in his heart. What happened? What went wrong? Does she not like it when he kisses her that way? 

Matt knew that from the get go that they’ve agreed to keep their ‘affair’ clean of feelings. That they would just waste each other’s time but it was certainly easier said than done. They’re just friends, sure. She’s the one person that could topple Foggy for a friendship battle in his heart, but lately it’s been much more than that. It’s been much more than stolen minutes of holding her close after their shared nights. It’s been much more than marking her skin and hoping that it could actually mean something more than just bruises of love. It’s been much more than friends who waste each other’s time by kissing in dark rooms.

The sound of water trickling from the shower head is now heard. Matt knew that if he wanted to, he could focus his hearing through the noise of the water to hear her true feelings, but he chose not to. He feared the true nature of her heart. He fears that the hanging question of their situation was only felt by him, that the growing fondness was only flowing one way. What was he supposed to do then if that was certainly the case? He’d rather lose a limb than to lose her, be it as a friend, a sex partner, or perhaps a lover.

—-

It was one of those rare nights when Matt chooses to actually socialise and put the mask down for a couple hours. The place was packed with friends and loved ones. Foggy and Marci’s engagement party is certainly lavish with expensive champagne and grand decoration. Marci must have certainly bent over backwards to make sure everything went perfectly tonight.

She was standing by the sofa on the patio, watching Matt being so immensely interested in whatever discussion he’s having with one of the guests. Must be someone he knew back in Columbia from the way he looks so at ease. His brilliant wide smile never leaves his face. She was sure that his cheekbones must be threatening to fall anytime soon from all the grinning he’s doing.

“You must be Matt’s new nurse.”

She turns to see a beautiful woman, smiling brightly at her, “You must be Claire.”

“I am, indeed.” Claire nods “Matt has told me so much about you.”

“I hope he’s not complaining to you about how unskilled I am with stitching his wounds,” She groans, rolling her eyes “It’s not even my fault that his scars are never healing. Everytime I stitch one up he’ll manage to rip it open that very night whilst gaining a new wound. How am I supposed to work my healing magic if he’s so determined to hurt himself like that?”

Claire chuckles, nodding in understanding, “Why do you think I quit?”

She smiles, appreciating Claire’s company.

In no time the two women were talking and laughing together. It pains her to know just how charming Claire truly is. Matt had told her about Claire and why she chose to leave Hell’s Kitchen and ultimately him. She wonders if he ever had any regret not letting his walls down for her.

“Claire, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, anything.”

“How did you do it?” She asks, hesitation evident in her tone “How did you leave Matt?”

The kind smile on Claire’s face faded a little. Her brows furrow for a while before shaking her head as a sign of confusion. It was certainly the least expected question she was hoping to hear from someone Matt has been boasting so fondly about.

“I know you care about Matt deeply, don’t get me wrong,” She explains fast “I just— Matt told me that you two had.. Something. I just wanted to know how you could get yourself out of it.”

Claire’s expression turns into an understanding one, “I hope I’m not understanding your question wrongly but Matt could be.. Quite hypnotising at times. I’m sure you know that best, being one of his childhood friends.”

She flashes a small smile.

“I guess, I just didn’t want to be sucked into the blackhole that is Matt Murdock.” Claire sighs, a satisfied smile lingers on her lips “It would be practically inevitable for you to get out of his grasp once you’re wrapped around his fingers and as you know, he’s not one to have ‘back down’ in his dictionary, ever.”

She rolls her eyes, “Tell me about it.”

“Well, Matt also has so many layers to himself. As much as he pulls you, he would push you away and I guess I wasn’t looking for that kind of relationship.” Claire continues “You can love Matt as much as you possibly could, beat yourself black and blue just to keep him, but in the end, the only one who knows what Matt Murdock wants is Matt Murdock.”

Claire’s words sink into her brain. None of the things she uttered were news to her. She knew Matt better than anyone and it was all true. As much as Matt pulls you, he would push you just as strong. He’s a complicated man with a complicated history. Yet with all the knowledge she has of him, with all the years they’ve spent as friends, with all the understanding they have for each other, she still couldn’t decipher his true motive.

Matt’s sudden change of action scares her. He becomes more attentive, more gentle and spends more time with her after each of their ‘cardio’. He would cuddle with her, staying in bed until the sun started waking. His kisses no longer feel needy but longing instead. The way his hands dance around her body feel much more calculated, much more cautious as if he’s afraid of making mistakes.

Now if the reason for all of these changes were of what she hoped for, that a certain sentiment was growing for her just as much as she yearns for him, then this would certainly be their happy ending, but Matt is known to be quite the womaniser. He has that charm that he never shied to use around women. Though she loves him with all of his brilliance and mischievous traits, for once she fears of what he might truly have at heart.

“Is everything alright between you two?” Claire asks, snapping her out of her thoughts “Is there something you wanted to share with me?”

She shakes her head, feigning a smile, “Nothing. I just wanted to know what happened between you two so I can nag him later about it.”

Unbeknownst to the two ladies, Matt has heard all of their exchanged words. His grip on his white cane was borderline destructive, knuckles white from how much he’s trying to bottle his emotions. Is she planning to leave him? Is that what’s happening?

Is that why she always avoids his gentle touch? Because she doesn’t want to be that attached to him? Does this mean that he truly has been barking up the wrong tree? That his feelings really flows one way?

—-

“How did you even get this drunk, Matthew?”

She stumbles to help him get to his apartment. Some time after her lovely chat with Claire, she finds Matt pissed drunk in one of the rooms in Marci’s apartment. He was hammered, slurring words that could barely be understood. His glasses were tossed to the floor, white cane laying feet away from where he was slumping at. Something was wrong.

Closing the door behind them, she puts Matt’s arm around her shoulders as a means of support. She knew that she could barely offer any stability for him, but it would be better than having nothing, she reckons. He surely can’t lean on his white cane to navigate.

But before they could get in further inside the apartment, Matt pushes her to the wall. He was pining her in place. He licks his lips, listening to her heartbeat that’s starting to thump harder than it did a few minutes ago. She was scared.

“Matt—,”

Before she could finish her words, Matt leans in and kisses her hungrily. He pushes his body to come in contact with hers, pressuring her to keep still as his hands now hold her wrists.

“Matt, let me go.” She says between the kisses “You’re hurting me.”

Matt didn’t stop. He kisses her, nibbles on her lips until he could feel the foul taste of iron. He wasn’t sure whose blood it is he’s tasting but he couldn’t careless. His left hand now cups her cheek as his elbow pins her hand still. It was practically impossible for her to move.

“Matt, stop!”

Only then did he finally pull away. He lets her go, taking a few steps back as he pants from the adrenaline and anger poisoning his blood, “Leave.”

She blinks, completely confused as to what is happening to him, “What?”

“Leave this apartment and never come back.” Matt says coldly “I don’t want you to ever come back to my place, do you hear me?”

“I— What are you talking about?”

“I said, leave!”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on!” She yells back. She was afraid, her heartbeat must have told Matt about her true feelings but she wouldn’t run out of this place without getting any explanation. Not after that rude and forceful kiss he gave her just now.

Matt’s lips were locked in a thin line. He couldn’t piece the words he wanted to utter. There’s so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to shout, but all he could think about was the heartbreak his chest was concealing. His heart was aching and it pains him even more that she was oblivious about it.

“What happened, Matt?” She asks once again, this time with a softer tone though the state of her heartbeat was still erratic.

“This isn’t working.”

She blinks, hardly understanding his words, “What isn’t?”

“Us, this! Whatever this is.” He says as his hands do all the gestures of his frustrations “It’s not working anymore.”

“That’s certainly not what you said last night when you fucked me on the sofa.” She scoffs “What is wrong with you? What happened at that party?”

Matt’s breathing was uneven. His chest heaving up and down in the most foul way that he just wanted to grab his mask and find someone he could actually beat into pulp. He was frustrated. The aching in his heart amplifies with every ticking second and the fact that he’s put himself in this situation infuriates him even more. She was clear as the sky about what she wanted from this ‘relationship’. Matt has got no one else to blame about his burning fantasy than himself.

“I used to think that we can do this to waste some time,” He breathes in a low growl “Now I realise that you’re just wasting my time.”

“I’m wasting your time?”

Matt went tight lipped.

“I’m wasting your time,” She repeats, still in disbelief “I’m not the one who begs the other to stay till morning, Matthew. I’m not the one who texts the other every fucking night like a clingy boyfriend. If anything, you’re the one who’s wasting my time!”

“Well, then leave! What are you still doing here? Leave!”

There was a hint of salty taste in the air now. Matt knows that he’s crossed a line he’s never done before. Her heartbeat was still racing, but this time it was caused by a completely different reason. Before she was afraid and unsure, but now she was angry. So angry that Matt knew it wouldn’t be the kind of dispute that would subside in a week or two. This is the kind of anger that would leave marks that only time and the Universe could heal.

“Fuck you, Matt.”

A loud slam of the door was heard as she left him all alone in his apartment. The silence that follows was deafening. Matt could feel his apartment growing as his body shrinks down to the void he’s slowly drowning in. He’s burned all the bridges they’ve ever built before. As of tonight, it was certain that he’s lost a friend, a sex partner, and perhaps a lover.

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

Two Hands To Hold ║ ⓛⓘⓜⓘⓣⓔⓓ ⓢⓔⓡⓘⓔⓢ

║TWO HANDS TO HOLD: a Liquid Gold prequel || main masterlist ║

| PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!reader x Tommy Miller

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 9.2k | CONTENT: backstory for LIQUID GOLD aka how reader ended up with both Miller brothers, lots of plot sandwiched between smut, inexperienced virgin learns stuff, established relationship vibes, Joel is a slut, Tommy is a softboi slut menace, infidelity, degradation, praise kink like whoa, exhibitionism, lots of cum, cum is everywhere, for the love of god why is there so much cum in this fic

| SYNOPSIS: When wanting something means risking everything, how much are you willing to take the hands of two brothers and let them lead the way?

The mixture of what was supposed to be dinner had probably scalded to the bottom of the pot by this point. You might’ve cared more if you were further into your recipe, but you hadn’t added any of the scarcer ingredients yet so it wasn’t too wasteful.

You should’ve known that running upstairs for a quick second to grab a sweater wasn’t going to be quick at all since Joel was home. He’s fresh out of the shower with a towel slung low around his waist. You warn him you have to get back downstairs before dinner burns, but you both know there’s no conviction in your tone. You don’t really care too much about dinner when Joel’s mouth is on your neck and his hands are groping at your backside.

“I can do quick,” he murmurs. “Problem is you never like it when Daddy doesn’t take his time with that needy little pussy of yours.”

You groan and arch into him, incapable of producing any argument to his charge. You could never get enough of him, and he liked it that way. Your appetite for pleasure was equally matched by his, and you found yourself more often than not stuffed to the brim with his fingers or his cock. He makes quick work of your clothes, ignoring your weak grumbling that this was only going to make you even colder than when you first came upstairs to get a sweater.

You forget all about the chill when he’s got you on all fours and is burying himself into you. You shiver when a rush of cool air gusts through the window you hadn’t realized was open.

“Joel!” you hiss. “The fucking window is open!”

“Mmmm, suddenly afraid somebody’s gonna hear you screamin’ for this cock?” he taunts. “Like they ain’t heard it a million times before with how loud you get?”

Your walls flutter around him at the idea of being heard or seen by someone when he’s fucking you so hard it punches the air from your lungs when he bottoms out. Joel of course notices.

“Oh, you like that, huh? Like the thought of somebody seein’ you be such a good hole for me?” he grunts, pulling your back flush against his chest. He drives himself even harder into you as you cry out.

“Ohmygod,” you rasp as his tip slams into the deepest parts of you.

“Bet you’d let me pull anybody from the street just to have ‘em watch you take this cock,” he grunts.

Your body gives your feelings away yet again when a crackled, needy moan slithers up your throat.

“Yeah, bet you’d want ‘em to do more than watch, huh?” he pants. “Bet you’d want to take their cock too after I’m done usin’ you up.” 

“Fuck!” you whine, getting closer to coming just thinking about somebody else taking from your body after Joel has finished splitting you on his cock.

Joel laughs, dark and low. “Learnin’ somethin’ about you, honey. Didn’t know you were that type’a girl. Wantin’ all of Daddy’s friends to use your holes, huh?”

Your climax grips at the base of your spine and explodes into your lower belly. You let out a wail of pleasure as Joel thrusts harder, fucking you through your high while he chases his own. He empties into you with three forceful drives and slumps on top of you where you’d crumpled into the bed below.

You barely manage a sigh as he pulls out. You stay like that while you hear him head downstairs, probably to turn off the burned dinner before it starts a house fire. Your head gets fuzzier and your lids get heavier as you listen to him walk back upstairs and get dressed.

A gentle press of lips against your temple rouses you. It’s much darker outside than it had been just a moment ago. The open window has been closed, and the inky sky outside looks like a framed postcard.

“I know it’s always a good one when you pass out right after,” he chuckles, peppering soft kisses to your temple and scalp.

“Dammit, didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you grumble in a slur. You push yourself up from the bed and roll over. Your brow pulls when your hand grazes past the fabric of panties. “When did—”

“Slid ‘em on you so you keep me inside,” he grins. “Now get dressed so we can get goin’. Gonna see to somethin’ tonight.”

“We’re going somewhere?” you mumble, still trying to orient yourself from the haze of sleep.

Joel nods and gestures to the pile of clothes he divested you of earlier. “Go on now, and don’t let any of my cum outta ya.”

You grin back at him and scoot to the edge of the bed. “I take it dinner burned?”

He laughs and confirms it was “probably easier to just toss the whole pot at this point” than try to scrub the burnt bits off.

You lean in for a kiss before dressing yourself. He watches you as he has the tendency to do. You straighten your shirt and hair before announcing that you were ready to head out. You bite back a smile at the feeling of your weeping cunt spilling out what Joel had filled you with earlier with each step you take towards Main Street. When he gives you a knowing nudge and smirk, you knock your hip against him playfully.

“You know I like how it feels,” you huff with empty indignation.

Joel breaks into a real smile at your raw honesty. “And you know I like you walkin’ around with me drippin’ outta you.”

It hadn’t always been this way. You hadn’t always felt more comfortable with exploring or even acknowledging your wants and needs. Your entire life had mostly been listening to and following others so you wouldn’t die. You remember bits and pieces from Outbreak Day in complete clarity, but you mostly remember how you felt: scared, abandoned, and burdensome. And that was before everything concerning the infection had even happened.

It was your birthday. You sat on the front porch for hours even though deep down you knew she wasn’t going to show. When your grandmother finally made you come inside so the neighbors wouldn’t see and start getting nosy, you couldn’t even find it in yourself to cry.

It was another year that your mom had missed your birthday – or any day that remotely mattered to you or celebrated you in any way. You’d known it wasn’t going to happen. It’s probably why your stomach had felt funny and clenched hard with nerves to the point that you’d thrown up a few times first thing that morning.

Your grandmother wasn’t too happy about it. She’d had to call out of work and was clearly frustrated and stressed about missing her shift. It always seemed like anything to do with you was always upsetting to your grandparents. Years later you understood a bit better why becoming the sole guardians to their teenage daughter’s baby at the age of 39 wasn’t exactly the future they’d hoped or planned for. 

Your mom’s “troubled years” as they’d put it had turned out to be more extensive and consequential than they realized at the time. At a certain point, there’s no going back and fixing it. Giving birth to a baby girl at 17 and then disappearing altogether before she’d turned 18, your mom didn’t want to take on the responsibility of you. No one really seemed to want the responsibility of you.

So, you tried your best to listen. You tried your best to follow the rules. You had your mother’s reputation and history hanging over your head like a black cloud, and your grandparents were constantly reminding you of all the things you shouldn’t be - all the things your mom was. Irresponsible, promiscuous, attention-seeking, shameful, demanding, difficult….. 

Your grandmother in particular seemed to believe that if they had attended church more regularly as a family, maybe your mom would’ve turned out “a better girl.” Your grandfather only went on holidays to make your grandmother happy, but he never disagreed that your mom could’ve used something to make her more obedient with better morals and fewer sinful indulgences.

You went to church a lot with your grandmother - any Sunday morning she wasn’t working - and you wondered if you would ever satisfy the debt of being the corporeal amalgamation of all your mother’s faults. A daily reminder of failed virtues and someone who had lost their way. You could do all the good in the world, but you would still be the product of failure and immorality.

And yet, every child wishes for their parents to notice them, to care about them. No one knew your father’s identity - including your mother - but he had to exist out there, somewhere. Sometimes you let yourself imagine that he never even knew there was a potential child of his out there in the world  and maybe that’s why he’d never reached out or tried to be a part of your life. 

Your mother was sick a lot, at least that’s what your grandparents told you. “She’s not well right now enough to see you” was something you’d heard many times. Whenever you asked what kind of sick she was, they didn’t ever have a clear answer. You’d thought that maybe if you knew what kind of sick she was, you could all figure out a medicine for her or do something to help her get better. When you’d suggested as much to your grandfather, he gave you a hard frown and sad eyes.

“Listen, why don’t you go watch something on the TV, huh?” your grandmother suggested when you obeyed her instruction to leave the porch and come inside.

“Can’t I sit at the window?” you politely asked. “I’ll keep behind the curtains so the neighbors don’t see.”

She gave you one of those sad, resigned looks you recognized more often the older you got. Now on your 7th birthday, you’d gotten pretty good at spotting them even if you didn’t always know why they looked at you that way.

“She’s not coming, doll baby,” your grandmother sighed. “I’m sorry. I know she said on the phone last week she was gonna come stay for a few days, but I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

You pressed your lips together tight and nodded. No use in making a big deal out of it and stressing your grandmother out more than she was for having to miss work on account of you having tummy troubles. You watched the TV for a while – more like stared unfocused at it as it flashed scenes in front of you – and couldn’t help but hope every time the phone rang that it was your mom calling to apologize for running late and explain that she was still coming.

The phone was ringing more and more as the day went on, and your grandmother seemed more unsettled after each conversation. Lunchtime came and went, but you settled for an apple from the counter so you didn’t bother your grandmother for a proper lunch. At some point she shooed you away to your room to play so she could watch something “not for kids” on the TV. The deep voice from the TV seemed to become more frenzied as the day went on, too. 

Your grandfather came home early, but it hadn’t anything to do with celebrating your birthday. You were instructed by them to eat dinner from whatever you wanted in the pantry, and it wasn’t too bad of a birthday present. You hadn’t received one yet today, so you felt safe to assume a free pass at whatever you wanted from the junk food was your present. You’d wished your stomach wasn’t so tight with worry so you could actually eat something.  They sent you to bed early, too distracted with whatever was happening to realize you hadn’t eaten.

You woke up hungry and quietly got up from bed to check the clock in the kitchen to see if it was still your birthday and maybe try to sneak an apple. Your grandparents were in the living room in front of the static screened TV, sharing hushed whispers as you tried to make out their conversation from the hallway. You couldn’t take it anymore and made your presence known. You might get in trouble for interrupting them, but you had to know if something bad had happened to your mom and if that’s why they seemed so upset.

They exchanged a heavy look. You can still see it in your mind’s eye to this day. Even as a child you knew it was something devastating even though you couldn’t yet understand it was the moment they both stopped to realize they didn’t know where their daughter was, if she was safe, and, at the rate horrible things were transpiring with the mystery infection, they probably weren’t ever going to see her again.

All three of you slept in the basement for a few days, starting the night of your birthday. You kept quiet and didn’t even complain about the only food down there being nut packs and expired dinner crackers. You were too afraid to ask why you couldn’t leave the basement. You were too afraid to ask if your mom was okay. You were too afraid to ask if your grandparents were upset with you and why.

When the uniformed men came and swept the house for inhabitants, you didn’t ask questions. You didn’t say you needed to use the bathroom. You didn’t argue when they instructed you to sit on the floor of the large black vehicle.

Over the years in the QZ, you never dropped your habit of keeping out of the way and doing what you were supposed to do. Over the years in the QZ, your grandparents never dropped their habit of drilling it into your head that you were to follow the rules and not “attract any unwanted attention” to yourself.

When the son of a high-up QZ FEDRA officer took a liking to you, it sent you into a panic. It scared you to like him back. He was sort of nice and smiled at you sometimes. You felt shame gnawing at you when you dreamed about him being your first kiss. You woke up horrified that even if your conscious mind knew better than to entertain indecent thoughts about boys, your unconscious mind was determined to make you a morally bankrupt person, just like your mother. You didn’t know what to do other than to avoid him at all costs.

He caught on that you were giving him the cold shoulder, and suddenly the smiles and friendliness turned into scowls and rude comments under his breath about you being a “stuck up bitch.” You wanted to tell your grandparents, but that would mean admitting to having bad thoughts about a boy. They didn’t need that stress.

When your grandfather got reassigned to a heavy labor, lower paying job by direct order from FEDRA higher ups, he was at a complete loss as to what he’d done or who he’d pissed off. You kept your shameful secret to yourself - that you and your uncontrollable want had been the reason for his punishment. You watched your grandfather get weaker and age more rapidly, thanks to his demanding work.

He’d finally had enough, and that’s when you all fled in the QZ under the cover of darkness. Yet again something bad that was a direct result of your innate impurity. You kept your shameful secret and kept quiet. You were warned endlessly by them both to not wear anything fitted, to keep your hat on, and to not speak.

“If anyone knew we had a teenage girl with us, we’d be the target for some bad things,” they’d explained plainly. Your femininity, your body, the pleasure others could derive from your body. All a liability.

You bounced around from place to place. Your grandfather’s health got worse. He passed that first winter. Your grandmother was never the same once he died. You still think it was a broken heart that ultimately killed her.

A single thread of your want had stitched this tapestry of misery and death. When you were accosted by Jackson’s patrol as you were trying to form a makeshift camp in the powerplant building next to the dam, you sort of wished the dogs would just tear you to pieces right then and there.

Instead, your work ethic and cooperative attitude landed you with a permanent residency in the Jackson settlement. You never turned down requests for hard labor or jobs other people didn’t want. You always said yes. You never made requests or developed preferences. Everyone praised your agreeable, undemanding personality. You were too afraid to want, so you didn’t. That is, until Joel Miller showed up. 

He commanded your attention from the moment you laid eyes on him. It scared you how much you yearned to know him. How much hearing his voice settled something knotted in the depths of your chest. How much you worried about him when he left for patrol after you memorized his schedule. How much seeing him easy around his also incredibly handsome brother Tommy made your heart drip like acid into your stomach.

You watched him endlessly from the kitchen in the cafeteria where you’d ended up working most regularly. You had a knack for cooking, it turns out, and the early and odd hours never bothered you. You knew what foods he liked best after noticing what he ate most of. You began to pick up on all his little physical quirks.

It was a one-sided obsession, something that could never be indulged. It was bad enough wanting something. You knew that wanting something meant risking everything. It wasn’t safe to want. And yet, you couldn’t stop yourself; however, going after that want was a line you weren’t going to cross.

Fortunately for you, Joel didn’t have the same sort of hang-ups you did. Your hand shook as you scooped all his preferred foods onto his plate without direction. 

“You gonna ask me if that’s what I want?” 

It was the first thing he’d ever said directly to you. Your eyes went wide when you realized you’d been in such a rush to give him all his favorites so he could sit down to a nice meal that you hadn’t even stopped to ask him what he wanted. You already knew what he wanted, but now you’d outed yourself to him.

“I-I can get you something–something different. I’m sorry,” you offered, completely flustered.

He shook his head and gave a lopsided grin. You felt like you could throw up at any moment. “Never said it wasn’t what I wanted. I was just wonderin’ if you were gonna ask me or if I was just s’posed to take what ya gave me,” he drawled in a lazy, amused voice.

Your face was on fire as you stood frozen to the spot. When you didn’t answer, he chuckled low to himself and shook his head.

“M’just teasin’ you, honey,” he exhaled in a laugh.

You felt ready to combust at his easy talk and effortless magnetism. You couldn’t make your tongue move to speak.

“Unless of course you don’t want me to be teasin’. Maybe you wanna trade places and instead of askin’ you what ya want you can just see what I’ve got to give ya,” he murmured, leaning closer to speak lower.

You dropped the serving spoon straight into the food, turned on your heel, and scurried like a frightened animal back into the kitchens. You tried to catch your breath as you leaned against the wall, but the throbbing between your legs was overwhelming.

One of the other workers came back to check on you, and you managed to explain you needed to go. You’d completely embarrassed yourself in front of Joel, and you needed to get back to the privacy of your boarding house room to wallow in your humiliation.

You’d made it not even a third of the way home when he called after you. Once again, you froze in place. His voice, his commands, whipped you into some sort of dazed stillness. He approached with his hands up in a gesture of good faith.

“Hey now, m’sorry if I misread the signals back there,” he offered up quickly. “I couldn’t take much more of you starin’ at me every meal and thought you were waitin’ for me to make the first move, is all.”

Your jaw felt slack, a contrast to your rigid frame. He took a few steps closer to you when you didn’t appear to consider bolting away from him again.

“If I came on too strong or misread somethin’, I apologize, okay? M’not tryna make you uncomfortable, so m’sorry if I did.”

You shook your head again, trying to rattle some combination of words together instead of standing there like an idiot. When he started up with more apologies even though he’d done nothing wrong, you said the first thing that came to mind.

“You didn’t eat,” you blurted out.

His head inched back in surprise at the unexpected reply. He laughed a bit in confusion and ran a hand through his hair like he wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to respond to that. The throbbing in between your legs was making a strong return.

“Yeah, I’ll be alright. I’ve put up with worse than a missed meal,” he finally responded. “Look, lemme walk ya home and smooth this whole thing over, yeah?”

You nodded and took the first few clumsy steps of what would end up being the most life-altering walk you’d ever taken. When you made it to your doorstep, you’d promised him you would ask next time. Your heart stuttered when he countered that he was “just fine takin’ what you’re willin’ to give him.” A silly, loose grin crept across the line of your mouth.

The next few weeks you started requesting menu changes so that Joel’s favorites were always served on days he had patrol. It felt like something you could give him, something he would want. When he asked you to take your break and dine with him, you said yes. It was something you could give him, something he wanted. When he started walking you home from work on a regular basis, he asked all sorts of questions about your life, and the truth of it all came too easy from your lips. It was something you could give him, something he wanted.

He never made a negative comment, shared a judgemental observation, or seemed to care about any bad parts of you. He eventually started sharing parts of his life, too, and for once you felt like maybe everyone made mistakes and it wasn’t just you who was a singular point of disappointment and wrongdoing. When he started to hold your hand on the walks home, you held his back all the more tightly. It wasn’t even something you had to consider.

It didn’t take you long to realize that if Joel wanted something from you, he could have it.

But when he asked one night if you wanted him to kiss you, you froze up again. There it was. The trap of wanting. You wanted him. You wanted him to have all of you. You wanted to be everything and anything for him. You never allowed yourself to linger on what you wanted from him. He assumed you were nervous because you’d never been kissed. When he said he wanted you to be honest with him, you told him everything.

“Tell ya what,” he said softly. “I’m gonna kiss you, and you’re gonna tell me if it feels wrong to want it after I’m done.”

You agreed. And then his lips were on you, so gentle and warm, and you never wanted it to stop. It ignited something in you that scorched through your veins. Joel was your first everything. He taught you to say no. He made you use your words. He met each new desire of yours with feverish enthusiasm. He never dulled your light, only ever made it swell and burn hotter and brighter.

You came to understand that there was nothing wrong with wanting. There was nothing wrong with desiring. It didn’t matter what lewd or obscene fantasy you expressed to him, he always welcomed it and made it come alive. Being an object of his desire wasn’t a shameful thing. Wanting him to have his way with you didn’t make you any less virtuous. Expressing your needs and chasing them with abandon wasn’t harmful or wrong. Liking it when he got rough and grunted the dirtiest things into your ear didn’t make you undeserving of tenderness and care.

You hated to think of all the years you wasted on being ashamed for simply existing, for having the sort of cravings and urges that humankind has always had. To be loved. To be accepted for who you are. To get lost in someone else. To make your body feel good. To make your mind feel good.

It never felt wrong, not with Joel.

So when you make it to the Tipsy Bison with his cum dripping out of you and starting to dry between your thighs as it soaks through your panties, it feels right. Instead of a rush of shame coursing through you, you feel a flood of arousal and anticipation when he says he’s gonna see to it that you get to show him how much of a slut you want to be. Your breath hitches when he instructs you to go to the bathroom, lock the door, and wait for three knocks. 

“I’m gonna send somebody in there with you, and you’re gonna let him inside that locked bathroom with you so that you can suck him off, you understand?” he growls low in your ear.

You pull back, wide-eyed with nerves and excitement. Joel smirks and drags the side of your face next to his mouth so you can hear him. “Only ever had my cock, and you wanna get greedy for more. So you’re gonna shove somebody else’s cock into your mouth since you wanna get used so bad.”

“Fuck,” you whimper to yourself. You’d still be drenched from this exchange alone even without Joel’s spend leaking out of you.

“Go on. I wanna see if my girl is as greedy a slut as I think she is,” he hums into your ear before giving your earlobe a quick nibble.

You practically hobble to the bathroom, trying to focus on walking in a straight line. Hopefully the other patrons think you’re drunk instead of just keyed up from the thought of being used. You don’t know who will be knocking, but you don’t feel unsafe in the slightest. Joel would never put you in a bad position. He wouldn’t push you for something if you weren’t ready.

Your heart is pounding in your ears as you wait inside one of the three single use bathrooms. You try to think of who it’ll be that Joel sends. You go through all of the possibilities in your head and can’t seem to decide who Joel would trust alone with you.

Your nerves start to get the better of you when you realize you’re really doing this. The self-doubt creeps in. What if you only thought this was what you wanted but in reality can’t perform? What if he doesn’t enjoy it? You’ve only ever been with Joel, and you know different partners must have their own preferences.

A fleeting thought to leave the bathroom and tell Joel this was all just a big mistake crosses your mind. You don’t want to embarrass yourself, and, worse, you don’t want to embarrass Joel. Maybe it was best if you just put this off until some other time. Joel might be disappointed, but you’d prefer that over making him look foolish.

Just as you're wrestling with your nerves, three knocks sound on through the other side of the door. You hesitate for a moment but realize there’s no other way out but through the door. You have no choice either way to see who’s waiting on the other side.

You turn the lock and open the door, stepping back so that whoever your mystery man is can make his way in. You don’t register at first the owner of curly black hair and broad shoulders. Your heart plummets when you realize it’s Tommy.

“Oh. Oh my god. Um. I’m done in here, so you can… oh my god… okay…”

Your mind is firing off in a million different directions. What is Tommy going to think of his brother’s girl just letting anybody into the same locked bathroom as her? You scramble to make some excuse so he’s not suspicious, but you come up short. You’ve spent enough dinners at his house to know he can probably see straight through whatever lie you were about to shill.

“You gettin’ cold feet on me, sweetheart?” Tommy teases, flicking the lock closed before crossing his arms against his chest and leaning against the door.

“I–wait. What?” Your mouth drops open. Surely Joel didn’t… “You mean… but… what about…. He told you……” You were too bewildered with the situation to pick which question you wanted to ask first.

“You think my brother is gonna send just any loser in here with you?” he snorts. “C’mon now. He’s a dumb bastard every now and then, but he ain’t gonna send anybody he doesn’t trust 100% to be alone with ya.”

That aspect of it made complete sense to you, but you wouldn’t have ever considered Tommy because of–

“Maria? She’s-She’s here! I saw her earlier. You… Aren’t you…..?” you balk in a strained whisper.

“Yeah, she’s here. Her and a bunch of other people, too. So I guess that means you can’t be as loud as you like to be,” he needles with a cocky grin. “S’alright, I got somethin’ to keep your mouth occupied.” He flashes a devilish wink, and for a split second you forget all about your nerves.

“But-But what about… I’ve never…..”

You can hardly form a coherent thought. Joel sending Tommy made sense. You’d always found him attractive, and Joel knew that. He’d even teased you a few times about if you wanted to switch up which Miller brother you wanted to be with when he was being a pain in the ass. You didn’t think he’d ever act on it. Just like you never thought Tommy would step out of his marriage.

“But you love Maria,” you counter in a weak appeal.

“I do. So that means you must be somethin’ real special for me to have a wanderin’ eye. You ain’t comin’ home with me at the end of the night, but that don’t mean we can’t have somethin’ together in the meantime.”

You aren’t sure how you feel about doing something with a married man. It wasn’t you who made the vows, but it still felt wrong anyway. You try to weigh the heavy conundrum of whether or not this is something you’d be able to stomach after all is said and done.

“Hey now,” Tommy says softer, uncrossing his arms and reaching out for your hand. “Joel told me this was a surprise, but if it’s too much there ain’t no shame in walkin’ away. Nobody’ll be upset with ya, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

His hand was smaller than Joel’s but felt warmer, softer somehow. A gentle cradle for your own. It felt nice. Different, but nice. Your eyes fix on the point where his thumb runs small circuits along yours, and it gives you somewhere to train your focus enough to get a thought out straight.

“It’s not that,” you deny in a shy voice.

“So what is it? ‘Cause this was somethin’ meant to be fun for everybody, okay? I’m not here to make you uncomfortable, sweetheart.”

Your eyes flicker up to meet his. He sounds so much like Joel.

“You don’t make me uncomfortable,” you assert. “I just-it’s me. It’s nothing to do with you. I’m just– I wasn’t thinking when I said that stuff about having somebody else. I-I don’t even know what I’m doing except for with Joel. I don’t even have any-any other experience.”

Your face is on fire again, and you wish you could just shut up instead of hitting Tommy with all of these embarrassing, trivial confessions.

“So, what? You got performance anxiety or somethin’?” he laughs under his breath. “Ain’t rocket science, sweetheart. A warm mouth on a pretty girl is as good a place as any for a guy to wet his dick.”

You shake your head and look away. “I’m just gonna mess it up.”

Tommy’s other hand cups the back of your neck to tilt your head until you’re looking at him again. His face is tender but serious.

“You take good care of my brother, sweet girl. He’s the happiest I’ve seen him in god knows how long. It means a lot to me knowin’ he’s got somebody like you lookin’ after him. If you can get somebody like my brother in as good a place as he’s in, you ain’t the sorta fuck up you think you are. Nothin’ short of a miracle worker as far as I’m concerned,” he presses. 

There’s not a hint of insincerity or exaggeration in his voice or face. The sentimentality catches you off guard. When your throat starts to feel hot and tight, an all new way to embarrass yourself emerges. You hastily sniff away your nerves and emotions and hope that Tommy doesn’t think less of you for it.

“Quit your cryin’ and c’mere,” he gently chides.

He hugs you against his body, wrapping both arms around you and cupping the back of your head with one of his hands as he captures your mouth in a soft kiss. He’s so gentle compared to Joel, so much more measured and rhythmic. Even early on in your physical relationship, there was always the electric undercurrent of something raw and hungry radiating from him. Tommy has a kinetic intimacy with every slip of his tongue and grip of his hand on your body.

You’re grabbing onto his collar desperately by the time he props you up on the sink and runs his mouth along the column of your neck, nipping and suckling in equal fervor and restraint. You swallow down the whines and whimpers he pulls all too easily from you.

“Make such pretty sounds,” Tommy rasps into your hair. “Gonna do this another time so I can hear ‘em loud as you wanna make ‘em.”

Your legs instinctively move together to soothe the building ache in your panties, but Tommy’s body keeps them parted.

“My sweet girl gettin’ hot ‘n bothered from a little neckin’?” he teases.

It’s pointless to lie since he clearly already knows how responsive you are to such little physical toying. You nod silently and chew your bottom lip.

“I like it, sweetheart. Like you a lot,” he professes in a calm consideration of you.

“I like you, too, Tommy,” you breathe. Your gaze travels down to the growing bulge in his crotch. You absentmindedly lick your lips.

“Got a nice mouth, too,” he muses. “Open up and lemme see it.”

Without hesitation, you slack your jaw and let your tongue drop. Your breath catches when Tommy runs his pointer and middle fingers together along it towards your throat. His eyes sear into the visual of feeding his fingers deeper into your mouth.

“See what we’re workin’ with here,” he says under his breath to himself. He inches along until his fingertips make your throat spasm. His eyes darken at the sound of it. He slowly draws them back out and breathes out a deep exhale.

“Sorry,” you apologize in a tiny voice. Heat pools in your lower belly. 

“Nothin’ we can’t work on,” he husks, the corner of his lip twitching up. 

His hands squeeze and rub downwards until he reaches your waistband, and you lift your hips when he starts tugging everything from your bottom half down. He yanks one side completely free from your leg, leaving your pants and panties hanging off the other thigh. He groans when he sees the thick, milky fluid dribbling from your hole.

“Been busy, I see,” he chuckles. He finally sets his focus to your face again after a gluttonous feast of your half naked form.

“I’m supposed to keep it inside,” you quietly explain.

Tommy nods and grins in approval. Something about him seeing the results of you and Joel’s earlier activities makes your pulse run thready.

“Looks like I got some catchin’ up to do,” he figures.

“But I’m supposed to—”

He lifts your shirt up, exposing your bare breasts and peaked nipples, and pays no mind to your call to get to what you’re meant to do inside the locked bathroom. Your body jerks when he rubs his thumbs across your nipples. You choke back and moan and focus on keeping quiet.

“You always so sensitive?” He chews his lip like he’s trying to keep from grinning too wide.

“N-No,” you lie. “I can be–sometimes I’m–” You shake your head, trying and failing to portray yourself as something other than an eager, all too easy to dismantle neophyte.

“Don’t hafta lie to me, sweetheart,” he’s quick to remind you. “I don’t want you to be what you think I want you to be. I want you to just be you. Understand?”

“Okay. Yes,” you concede. You know he’s not trying to call you out to embarrass you, but you still get an urge to hide away.

“M’serious. Joel doesn’t love you because you pretend to be somethin’ else for him. He loves you because you let him in and show him all of you.”

You draw in a shaky breath, nerves and want burning through you. Every time your thoughts start racing off in any given direction, Tommy pulls you back to the buzzing thrum of just being close to one another in the moment.

Joel tended to grab hold of you and wrap you up in a frenzy so fast that you didn’t have time to think too long on things that worried you. Tommy brought that clarity, too, except with a firm but tender guiding hand. Both left your mind quiet with nothing but the awareness of the space you shared with them.

“You gonna let me see it all, too?” he prods. He works your nipples between his thumb and pointer fingers, pinching and pulling when you don’t answer straight away.

“Yes,” you gasp.

“Good girl,” he praises. Your eyes flutter shut at his encouragement, awash in the warm feeling it blankets you in. He crowds you against the vanity mirror and continues working over you. 

“Touch yourself,” he grunts. You comply immediately and moan at the almost instant pull of your orgasm that’s been building the longer Tommy has hedged his way into your inner workings.

“Bet you can come just like this,” he wagers in a strained focus. “Keep playin’ with yourself ‘til you come, sweetheart. Wanna see your pretty face when you give it to me.”

Your brow pinches, your jaw limp as you choke back all the sounds clawing up from your chest. He grabs at your nipples so hard you jolt forward, nose to nose as he stares you down, and the coil in your belly snaps. He clamps one hand over your mouth to stifle the cries of bliss erupting from you.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he goads. His eyes are dark with something deprived and ravenous. You grab at his wrist where his hand muffles your sounds, desperate to latch onto him, to be closer somehow.

“Fuck you’re pretty,” he breathes. 

Without warning he hooks a hand under your bare knee and pulls you sideways until your back lays awkwardly against the sink and counter, your bare leg dangling off the edge. He directs you to wedge your legs open while he unbuckles his belt and frees his weeping cock from his jeans. He strokes himself hungrily and tells you to sit still.

Your breath heaves your chest up and down as you watch him run the tip of his length up your folds and notch himself at your entrance. It eases inside the tiniest bit, and a hungry moan rips from your chest.

“Shit!” Tommy hisses when he feels your walls clench around the tip of him, greedy and trying to pull him in further. “Gonna hafta to talk to Joel ‘bout lettin’ me get into this cunt.”

“Please please please,” you chant.

God, you hope Joel would let him. You hope he would be there and watch you get used by somebody else, pliant and yielding to whatever was being done to you.

Tommy slips the ridge of his tip slowly out of you. “Squeeze it out,” he pants.

He holds himself at the base of his cock, waiting for you to contract your muscles hard enough for Joel’s leftover cum to leak out onto his tip. You push a few times and feel the warm slip of it ease out of your hole. 

“Give your mouth somethin’ it’s used to, to start,” he grunts. He holds his cock steady and brings it to your mouth. You gape your mouth open without any prompting. Tommy slides his cum covered cock past your lips and instructs you to clean it off. You work your tongue around his head and drink in Joel’s residual spend.

“Get it all, sweet girl. There you go. Give you somethin’ familiar before I get you acquainted with the next cock that’s gonna ruin you.” He laughs to himself when you moan at the promise of being used by him.

You open your mouth as wide as you can to show him you’ve satisfied his command. He smiles down at you with a soft reverence you’ve seen so many times from Joel. Your eyes go wide, waiting anxiously to do anything you can to make Tommy feel good.

“Gonna see if we can get you some practice on that throat, sweetheart,” he forewarns you. He gives himself a few languid strokes and searches your face for any of the hesitation from earlier.

“Can you come in my mouth?” you urge in a sweet, meek voice that contradicts the crude request you’re making.

Tommy groans and shoves his length into your mouth again. He holds onto the back of your head and tilts it in a bobbing motion onto his cock. He wasn’t as thick to take as Joel, but he had a curve to his that presented its own challenge to swallow down fluidly. He drives far enough that you start to choke and gag, which only sends renewed arousal between your thighs.

“C’mere,” he growls. He scoops you up from the counter and plants your feet onto the ground. You scramble to your knees, ignoring the cold sting of the tile against your bare knee. You grab at Tommy’s thighs and move your mouth against his crotch. You lick and suck at his balls and the underside of his length. You’re overwhelmed with the urge to please please please. There’s a compulsion to give yourself over to Tommy and let yourself get lost in the gratification of gifting him a flurry of euphoria.

He claws at the crown of your head for you to take him into your mouth again. You oblige and try to swallow him down as far as you can. He groans above you, sounding closer to his own release the more you work him. You’re glad to have him filling your mouth enough that you don’t have to put as much effort into being quiet. The slippery dregs of your squelching saliva gather on your lips and chin.

Tommy pulls you off of him, panting and grinning wildly at you with a sort of worshiping awe. You can only imagine how much of a slobbery, disheveled state you’re in.

“Makin’ a mess,” he pants in a laugh. He cups his fingers against your face and scoops your spit back into your mouth. “I think you like makin’ a mess.”

He laughs when you eagerly nod up at him. “Can’t send you out too sloppy this time around, sweetheart, but next time I’m gonna make sure you’re a fuckin’ wreck.”

Your face lights up at the promise that this won’t be the last time you get to have him like this.

“S’alright. We can get a little messy before I fuck my cum into your mouth.” He crouches down and inserts two fingers into you. Your entire body clenches at the abrupt intrusion. You can feel him curve his fingers inside you and drag them down and out.

“Empty your mouth,” he instructs as he stands straight again. You swallow all of your spit down until your mouth isn’t so coated in fluids. Tommy takes the fingers he’d just plunged into your pussy and scrapes them against your tongue and teeth. You taste Joel’s cum as it accumulates.

“Don’t swallow it. Wanna see you give me a little show, sweetheart. Blow some bubbles with it,” he taunts.

You smear as much of it as you can against your lips, coating the inner ring of them, and prop them open in an oval shape before gently pushing air out. A milky, translucent orb swells with your breath. It pops and splatters a bit on your face. You form another one and don’t move your eyes away from Tommy, who is watching you with rapt lechery as you blow cum bubbles with his brother’s hours-old spend.

“Damn, you’ll really do anythin’, huh?” he mocks. You catch the excited, voracious approval laced in the derisive comment.

“Not for everybody,” you reply pointedly in as clear of a voice as you can with your mouth still holding onto Joel’s cum until Tommy tells you to swallow it. Tommy must know you weren’t this malleable and willing with anyone other than Joel, and now him. Right?

His face softens a bit. He runs a finger across the curve of your cheek. “No, I suppose not,” he agrees. “Suppose I’d better take advantage of bein’ one of the only two who get to have ya like this, huh?”

Your lips curve upward. “Can I swallow him so I can have you now?” you ask with big, fluttery doe eyes.

Tommy starts jerking himself hard and fast and tells you to swallow. You empty the contents of your mouth down your throat and snap it back open for him to fill.

“You’re gonna wrap those pretty lips ‘round my cock, and when I fill that mouth you better not let a single fuckin’ drop slip out,” he instructs, suddenly stern and focused.

You vacuum your lips around him and look up with pleading eyes. He strokes himself hard, breathing heavier and faster, until he lets out a pained groan and starts shooting hot ropes of cum into your mouth. You push away the involuntary reflex to swallow as your mouth starts to fill up. You gag a few times when a sharp burst pummels the back of your throat, but you don’t dare swallow.

Tommy hisses a string of curses as he empties himself. He shakes his cock against the seal of your lips to signal he’s taking it out. You pucker and clamp down your lips, ensuring your mouth closes behind his red, swollen tip. He tucks himself back into his jeans and fastens them.

“Goddamn,” he huffs. He shakes his head with a lopsided grin as if he’s disoriented. As if it was you that had whipped him into a sensual frenzy instead of the other way around.

He helps you to stand and chuckles at your shaky legs. He props you against the counter and stoops down to get your panties and bottoms back to their original place. Your cheeks bulge slightly with the fill of him in your mouth. You wish you could speak, but there’s also something calming and comforting about the shared quiet between the two of you.

He grabs the bottom of his shirt and wipes your face with the inside of it, making you a bit more presentable before you exit the bathroom. He pats down your hair, something so tender and domestic against the backdrop of debauchery you’d just engaged in.

“Beautiful,” he grins. His eyes crinkle when his smile grows wide enough, and he looks so much like Joel in that moment you want to grab him up and not let him go.

“Now what you’re gonna do, sweetheart, is you’re gonna keep your mouth full until you can show Joel what a good job you did, alright?” he explains.

Your cheeks burn at the praise and at the thought of Joel inspecting all of Tommy’s cum coating your mouth. For reasons you can’t quite explain, it gives you a rush of excitement knowing you’ve been the receptacle for their unhinged desires, all within the span of a few hours.

“And you best hurry to where he’s sittin’ unless you catch somebody tryna start a conversation with ya. Can’t talk when your mouth is full of cum, huh? ‘Course knowin’ what kinda slut you are, I bet you’d like for ‘em to see it runnin’ down your chin and onto those nice tits of yours.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push down the new wave of arousal hitting you. If you lose focus, you might accidentally swallow.

“But you’re gonna keep it in there ‘til Joel can see it, aren’t ya?” he probes.

When you keep your eyes shut in concentration, he nudges your leg aside with his knee and lands a swat over your clothed clit. Your eyes tear open, and you practically gurgle scream a moan. You nod hastily in agreement, although part of you wants him to do that again.

“Damn, is there anythin’ you don’t like done to ya?” he sneers. He rubs a gentle palm over the crotch of your pants and drinks in the shaky sigh of pleasure that leaves your lungs. He brushes his nose against yours and closes his eyes.

“Pretty thing,” he murmurs. You can feel the whisps of his eyelashes flit against your skin. You’re anchored to the spot, captive to the serene hold of him against your body.

He peppers a few kisses along your cheek as he makes his way to your ear. “When y’all come over for dinner on Friday, I want you to leave your panties at home, you hear me?”

You whimper at the thought. He breathes a chuckle against the shell of your ear. “Joel might like ya to keep ‘em on, but I want you to take ‘em off for me. Can you do that? Can you leave those panties at home for me on Friday night?” he rasps.

Your hands snake up his arm and shoulder until your fingers tangle in the curls of hair along the nape of  his neck. You gently nod. “Good girl,” he says and gives you one last press of his lips against your forehead. “Now get goin’.” He jerks his head towards the door, and you shuffle obediently out of the bathroom. 

The Tipsy Bison is business as usual, and it seems strange that all of this was carrying on and didn’t somehow come to a complete standstill while you and Tommy wrenched each other apart and devoured the raw insides you found there. You’re in a bit of a haze as you wander towards where you last saw Joel. You take a moment to register the figure of someone who’s stepped in front of you, blocking your path forward. Your stomach lurches. It’s Maria, because of course it is.

Your mind wars with the guilt of her sudden appearance and the thrill of having Tommy pooled in your mouth.

“Have you seen Tommy? He said he was going to the bar, but I haven’t seen him,” she says loudly over the chatter.

You almost open your mouth to answer, in such a fluster you nearly forgot the fact that you can’t speak to her when your mouth is filled with her husband’s cum. Instead you clumsily shrug and motion like someone is hailing you over to them. You don’t stop for her to react to your odd behavior and instead make a beeline for Joel.

He sees you and relaxes into a smug grin. You practically fall into his lap as you sit beside him. He raises an eyebrow at your rushed, graceless movements but stills when he notices the tight clench of your jaw. You bore your eyes into his as you gently open your mouth enough for him to see inside, tilting your head back slightly so he can appreciate your commitment to your task.

His eyes flick down and darken as he scans your filled mouth. He rests a hand over his crotch and swallows hard. Your eyes flit back and forth in a silent request to swallow. He wraps a hand around the front of your neck and leans in. 

“You swallow when I give a little squeeze,” he instructs before pulling back to watch you.

He presses down gently on your throat, and you can feel the muscles contract against his hand as you swallow. A deep groan reverberates from his chest at the feeling. You lean forward and divulge every sordid detail in a hushed whisper. His hand leaves your neck and grips the top of your thigh. He lets you finish recalling and recounting it all for him. 

He’s suddenly scooting you over and up to stand. You’re out the door of the Tipsy Bison faster than you can discern what’s happening.

“What’re–”

“Been a bad girl,” he tuts. His arm around your back sets the fast gait home.

“But you—” you start to sputter.

“Lettin’ him empty me outta that cunt? After I told you to keep it in there?” he elaborates. He looks down at you with a wicked grin. “Gonna have to get you home and fix that right away, honey.”

You breathe a relieved laugh that he wasn’t somehow upset with the turn of events now that it had actually happened. No, this was your Joel, teasing you and keeping you on your toes.

“What do you mean, Daddy?” you ask in a flirty, coy voice.

“Know goddamn well what I mean. Gonna fuck you ‘n fill you up again, like you should be.” He gives you a playful wink that makes your chest tight with emotion.

You feel certain that this revolving door of affection and attention from the Miller brothers was something you could definitely get used to.

Brain Goblin went wild with this one. I had thought a lot about what happened after Liquid Gold, but it wasn't until recently that I got a really clear vision of what took place before, how it all came to be.

I hope the insight to her past gives context to what makes this slutty throuple so sweet and special.

As always, thank you for reading!

Art in graphic is a transformed work by artist Thomas Francis Dicksee.

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

[beautifulchris]

love die young

wc: 0,5k

pairing: bang chan x gn!reader

summary: after months of young love, you decide it's best to part ways

genres: angst, breakup!au

tw: mention of death (just a thought) and anxiety

notes: this drabble is inspired by love die young by eric nam as requested by my friend. i hope i did it justice and it's angsty enough djdjdj @badwithten 🙏🏼 also the lyrics are in italic and 2/3 chris' thoughts. i'm reposting the works i posted while shadowbanned, please don't mind me

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @whipped-kpop-creators

permanent tag list: @badwithten send an ask/dm/comment to be added!

prequel to: fate brought us together again

GIF publié par sevengems07

Chris fell in love with you rather quickly. He was attracted to you the second he laid his eyes on you, your beautiful hair complimenting your face nicely.

He got the courage to speak to you after class one day, and your personalities matched perfectly.

It was young love at its finest.

You’d do everything together, without forgetting your respective family and friends.

This amazing relationship was around nine months old. Then, one afternoon at his house, you said something that shook his very core.

“Chris, I have to tell you something.”

“What’s wrong, angel?” he asked, worry in his voice. You rarely called him by his name.

“I— OK, this is gonna be difficult.”

You breathed, throat tight.

You were seated on each side of the couch. At the sight of your dejected state, he moved closer to you, a reassuring hand pressed against your knee.

In his head, he imagined one of your family members passed away. Honestly, he couldn't think of anything else that could put you in such a distressed state.

“I want to break up.”

He thought wrong.

Your words felt like a bomb exploded in his chest. You weren't one to make jokes this hurtful, and he always knew when you lied.

The fact you were being real filled him with confusion and anxiety.

“I don’t understand,” was all he could reply.

Weren't you happy together during the many months you spent together? Was every single moment all a lie? Did he even know you like he thought he did?

“You don't love me anymore?” he resumed, “Did I do something? Is there someone else? Someone better?”

Self deprecating questions spiraling in his head, he felt like suffocating. He moved back, away from you.

“No, it's none of that, Chris. I promise. I just feel like I don’t know myself, and I need to. In order to know who I am… This journey I have to take alone.”

Tears were staining your shirt, but you didn't care one bit. Seeing him like this hurt more than words could describe.

“Please, don’t let this love —our love— die young.”

“I love you,” you said softly, “I just need to put myself first this time.”

“Y/N,” he whined, your words feeling like a white-hot knife cutting right through him. “I need you to stay.”

You sniffed, caressing his elbow with your thumb. The movement calmed his nerves, if only a little.

“And I need to go.”

Chris’ heart was hammering in his chest.

Tell me it was just a wrong feeling.

“I’m sorry,” you resumed, “I really am. I never meant to hurt you. I’m leaving the day after summer break officially starts. We may never see each other again.” Your voice broke a little.

It was painful— no, crushing the both of you. However, you had to do it. For your own sake.

“I love you,” he whispered, barely seeing you through his tears.

He got closer to you, pressed his forehead against yours.

The goodbye kiss was passionate, teeth crashing and full of love and pain.

“Thank you,” you murmured, out of breath, when you let go of his face, “for everything.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I have to.”

These were the last words spoken to each other.

You left, heart heavy but determined to find yourself and be able to love yourself like you loved him.

Chris stayed for hours, crying on his couch.

Maybe I should blame myself for never thinking we’d end up this way.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, here's the masterlist<3

[oh-surprise-its-me]

I watched some rodeos today so that means I desperately need to write about 20 year old non pilot Jake being a cowboy and terrifying his New York dads. (Here’s prequel to this fic)

-

Chris, David, Wolfman and Lucas are all up on the fences watching. They all are used to this kind of thing. Oh the joys of growing up in Texas.

Tom, Ron, and Hollywood are in the stands. They all keep flinching when people get tossed. Tom’s nails are digging into Ron’s arm. He gasps every time someone lands wrong. He can’t believe they let their kid do this.

They’re in Vegas. All things considered a fun trip. They all took vacation time for this. Promised that if Jake used his fake ID they won’t call him on it. This is the final day of four for the rodeo.

Jake’s good. Too good. Ron can’t stand to watch him most days. Terrified that their kid is going to slam his head and not get back up.

Lucas promises him that he’ll be over the fence first before anyone else can be. Ron supposes an ER nurse is better then the paramedics they’ve got on ground.

-

Jake is hopping in place. He can feel the energy of the stadium, he watches them put the bull in the corral, Hell Maker is his name. Jake slides his helmet on and climbs the fence. He settles on the bull.

He hears the announcer.

“And now. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin. He’s one of the best twenty year olds competing he’s got a real chance at winning this Frank.”

“You’re so right Shawn. His father rode in Texas circles, Chris Seresin is in the crowd tonight. We’ll remind y’all listeners that the Seresins have a long history in riding rodeo.”

Jake shakes off the nerves. He knows he’s best. He can make it twelve seconds. Has to.

-

As he’s flying through the air it’s in slow motion. He made it nineteen seconds. He beat the records in place. Jake is going to make his dads buy him so many drinks tonight.

He slams into the ground. He tucks and rolls. He leaps up and takes off for the siding. Makes it over right at the bull slams into the wall.

Suddenly Jake is being held in the air. He shrieks, David and Wolf have him on their shoulders. Chris and Lucas are standing grinning up at him. Chris opens his arms and Jake jumps down and into them.

“Baby you did so good. I’m so proud of you.”

Jake sees his pa and tata make their way over to him. He’s surrounded by everyone suddenly. He’s so overwhelmed. He has to blurt it out now or he’s going to explode.

“I think this is going to be the last pro competition I do. Gonna go to med school.” They all stare at him for a second. “I’m not going to stop riding. Just no more getting thrown off intentionally.”

Ron is the first to react. “Chickie thank god.” He scoops Jake into a hug. Tom hugs him from the side. Chris plucks the hat off Jake’s head and kisses his hair.

He’s then passed to all of his uncles. Lucas looks like he might cry. He holds Jake’s face for a second. “You’ll be incredible.” Jake grins at him. “Wanna be a nurse like you. Help people.” Lucas lets the tears go down his face now. David loops his arm around his neck.

Jake is grabbed by Hollywood and Wolfman, Holly is grinning at him. He passes over two hundred bucks. “What the fuck?” Wolf blushes. “We made a bet on which career you’d follow. Decided you’d get the money no matter what happened.” Jake laughs. He grabs the two of them into a hug.

A photographer comes over and asks to take a photo of Jake with his dad. Chris smiles and agrees. Women still practically faint for him at points. Ron and Tom smile at the two of them. Jake is every bit his dads son.

Jake ends up getting a trophy. He’s proud of it but is even more proud of the money he wins at slots two nights later. All of them insist he cheated. He didn’t he’s just lucky.

-

In his thirty’s he talks Bradley into going to the rodeo, Bradley thinks it’s insane that Jake’s dads let him do this. Jake points out Mav and Goose had Bradley up in planes when he was definitely too young.

Bradley leans over while they watch the kids rodeo, “our kids are never doing this.” Jake stares at him. They’ve barely talking marriage. Fuck, Jake wants kids with Bradley. He flushes, “okay. They’re learning how to ride horses though.” Bradley nods. He presses a kiss to Jake’s head. “Anything you want sweetheart.”

[klausinamarink]

decided to write a steve part as a continuation of my steddie deals with chronic pain ficlet. Might’ve wrote this more in vein as a prequel but eh, you’re welcome :D also extra angsty

-

Steve used to consider himself as the embodiment of high pain tolerance. Since his junior year, he had been punched in the face many times, had a broken plate in his scalp, injected with Russian drugs, and gotten bit and nearly strangled by interdimensional monsters.

Or as he calls it Tuesday.

But after the Spring Break of Hell, Steve’s been feeling weird. Not the usual looking at my own body when I do things weird, but more physically weird. He doesn’t really know how to describe it even to Robin when he feels like he’s suffocating but there’s nothing around his neck. Or how every day his arms and back sting and pinch him at every breath like ants biting underneath his skin. Or how he’s walking fine until the next second, his knees get stiff and the pain travels upwards right to the top of his spinal cord, the place right on the back of his skull, it aches and aches to the point that he’s frozen but he has to move anyways because he’s standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

All he knows that it’s probably worse than the intense migraines he’s dealing with since Billy Hargrove and the Russians definitely cracked his right eye socket.

But there’s people who are more hurt than Steve. Like Max and Eddie who need and are getting actual help and care. He almost wants that too, but it’ll just get him in their way. Nobody would look at him and think that his suffering is even the same as theirs.

(Please, his heart and brain begs, look at me and take care of me. It hurts so much.)

So, even with his body betraying him and hurting him in ways he thought wouldn’t happen, Steve isn’t going to admit it. His injuries are healing fine anyway.

But god, can his body just actually rest and not hurt like bitch for one fucking hour?

(I’m sorry for hurting you, his body apologizes again, but it’s what i can do right now.)

It’s gotten more annoying, really. Steve keeps pushing the pain behind him, pointedly ignoring how it’s blurring his vision and pulses his certainly cracked eye socket. He knows it’s affecting his mood, but he doesn’t want to be that asshole King Steve anymore. He doesn’t want to everyone to lose their trust in him. So he keeps smiling, driving the kids, visits everyone, hands out clothes and food, and lives with the acid corroding his entire body.

Unsurprisingly, his suffering pushes back like an exploded dam.

At the Munsons’ new house, he’s visiting Eddie, who’s been more tired than Steve’s ever seen him since being discharged from the hospital. He still talks to the Party but he couldn’t go outside much without his scars and limp acting up.

It’s during when Steve finds himself placing wet towels on Eddie’s bare shoulders (“I can’t waste the water but I need some cold water on me right now!”) that it. Just hits him.

He can’t explain it - he’s never good at explaining anything well - but the sour and tired mood Steve’s been vaulting up vanishes. But then comes the hyperawareness of how much his skin is bubbling and itching with discomfort, his muscles dissolving into bone which are exploding starbursts of agony, and the pulsing under his right eye is slithering through his brain. It should’ve been horrible than the Russian torture, but it doesn’t even hurt. It’s like in class when the teacher is giving an important lesson but Steve is barely listening.

He does feel overwhelmed but so much so it just circles back to apathy. He doesn’t feel himself moving but he does end up on the floor, his face pressed against the frizzy carpet.

“Steve? Are you okay?” He hears Eddie asking. Feels him poking at his buzzing shoulder. He opens his mouth to say something but only says through salt-tasted lips, “Hurts.”

“Oh shit, what hurts? Where?”

Steve doesn’t answer. He closes his wet eyes and refuses to open them. The pain still follows him even when he falls asleep because of course it does. He hasn’t gotten a pleasant night of sleep since the demogorgon burst out of the Byers’ ceiling, but the pains makes him closer to the edge of consciousness than he liked.

When he slowly wakes up, there’s a heavy pressure sitting on his back. Steve lifts his head up and sees Eddie sitting on him, reading a worn book and the towel still on his shoulders.

Huh, that’s new.

Eddie flips a page, his eyes flickering to Steve, who stares blearily back. Eddie gives him a small smile. “The king awakes from his slumber as the prophecy foretold.”

Steve blinks. “W-Why are you sitting on me?”

“Wayne lays facedown sometimes after his shifts and I sit on his back almost every time. He says it’s the best massage he ever got.” Eddie says nonchalantly, but then he looks nervous. “Is, is this working for you?”

Steve reflects on his body. The pain is still everywhere but it’s a bit lighter this time. Where Eddie sits on his back is like a fucking miracle - the pressure settled into the muscle and bone where it feels like a portion of how his body used to be before the Upside Down busted into his life.

He grins with long-lost relief, “Yeah, man, just stay here forever. I’m not gonna move again.”

Eddie looks at him pensively, putting his book away. “Steve, are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah, this is kinda weird but I don’t mind it.”

“Steve, are you okay?”

He doesn’t cry, but Steve feels the tears trickling down his face and over his nose. He sniffs, blinking rapidly as Eddie gets off him and the pressure disappears so the pain comes back in its ugly sense. Steve turns around so his back on the ground and he’s staring at the ceiling, refusing to look at Eddie. He never cried before even when his body started hating him and he started hating movement.

“Hey, hey, Steve. Look at me, big boy.”

He does. Eddie is laying right next to him, his worried doe eyes staring at him. Fuck, he looks so kind and Steve shuts his eyes, clamping a hand over his mouth. The phantom pain of the demobat’s tail returns, but it feels more wet and clogged.

Eddie’s hand is on his. Gently moving Steve’s hand away from his mouth. Eddie is still looking at him as he says, “You hurt worse if you don’t ask for help.”

Steve opens his mouth. For an awful second, he wants to yell at Eddie ‘what the hell do you know about feeling like complete shit”. But he doesn’t and he is so fucking glad because it would’ve been so hurtful to Eddie and Steve would feel even more in agony that he just proved the other boy’s old impression of him as an asshole.

Instead, when Steve opens his mouth, he doesn’t say anything and starts weeping. He sobs like a baby and Eddie is holding him closer now, his face pressing against Steve’s messy face.

Moments pass in a blur. Steve stops crying. Eddie has moved himself on top of Steve, the familiar weight pressing the pain down and forcing his bones and muscle to rest. Their faces are closer to each other now, Eddie’s nose brushing Steve’s chin.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks again in a hushed tone.

Steve gives a little shrug. “A little.”

“Is this okay?”

Steve isn’t sure if he’s talking about laying on him or this new kindle of their friendship or both. But he nods, carefully wraps his arms around Eddie’s torso, and rests despite the pain stiffening him.

[yuhi-san]

So for the last day of @tristampparty have just some fun fact about trigun, escpecially july but lets get them done in order.

Despite being very, very obsessed with anime and manga and being quite active in german forums at the time trigun 98 first aired and was popular here… I was barely aware it existed.

I vaguely recall two people from a rpg trying to get me into trigon but they showed me the silly opening, vash skedaddling around like a lizard and him not having a bullet in the first episode. So it didn’t seem like something for my edgy teenage taste (oh sweet summer child I was.)

Trigon stampede didn’t show up on my radar at all either until I was traveling in japan in late july. I have no idea what even caused it but I went through the wiki, snooping for spoilers like any normal person. Which, sins the wiki contains stuff from trimax, 98 and tristamp it was. Uhm yea.

So anyway what I knew after was:

Vash and knives were species plant (which was so like ???? because I was thinking of trees without any context)

Also what the fuck is millions knives, how is that a name, this is almost as bad as the very manly male priest named ‘frau’

I am not going to entertine the section about a group that calls themself the freaking gung-ho guns, is this a joke

There is superhuman stuff going on with vash and also knives who is his twin.

Apparently he blew a hole in a moon??

He has a bounty on his head.. because he destroyed a city I think.

There are the two girls milly and meryl

Wolfwood dies (I vaguely remember seeing his death in a top then tragic anime deaths from watch mojo, I think)

when I came home from japan I just binge-watched it before going back to work.

So I went into stampede with very little context, but still some. I guess a lot of easteregs and hints went past me at first but that meant I was also unbiased (*cough*Roberto*cough* Milly *cough* new design *cough*)

I was delighted to hear johnny young bosch but a little disappointed we didn’t get any robin-esque gremlin cackle.

Was just a little surprised that wolfwood lived but I did eventually catch on that it was sort of an alternate prequel so to speak.

But then there is lost july.

See, I was vaguely aware vash destroyed I city. Sort of. But I don’t think I really took notice of july when skimming the wiki.

So the finale comes. Everything goes horribly. Roberto dies. At least meryl and wolfwood live. What knives does to vash is terrible. The fight isn’t looking too good for vash. The way knives kills the officers that attack vash.

and like vash was probably expecting it to be a suicide stunt to get the cube so far up in the air and detonate/fire (?) it. And in such a tragic way, it kills knives too (or at least that’s what it looks like to an unsuspecting audience and DEFINITELY to vash).

Everything is horrible but at least he managed to save the city.

Except it explodes anyway.

I was like WHAT!? WHAT!?

I’m telling you guys, I was shocked. I did not see that coming. In the slightest. I think I was still reeling from it by the credits.

Somehow, despite all the spoilers I’ve seen and read (also the couch…) I somehow managed to not expect lost july and was so blindsided by it

Edit: I posted this like three minutes ago but it just hit me what triggered me getting into trigun!! I’m pretty sure I never had trigon posts on my dash but somehow I had a post on it suddenly that was like this:

A screenshot of wolfwood saying to vash: don’t call me that! I’m Nicholas the punisher!

Then a short text about how he was trying to make himself and others believe that this was all he was or something along these lines and then the screenshot of the title drop “Wolfwood”

And then something really clever about how this was set up, as if right after wolfwood insisting he was just the punisher, the title drop immediately tells is otherwise. Like, no, no matter what you tell others and yourself, you are still wolfwood.

Actually if anyone has an idea what post that was hit me up.

[midwestmade29]

Rekindled ❤️

(A continuation of "Broken Promise")

To Anonymous: Thank you for reading my original story and for your request! It makes me so happy knowing you enjoyed it 🥹 I know my story is pretty lengthy, but it covers a lot of ground! I had so much fun writing it 🖤

Original Anonymous Request: "I absolutely loved that last fic! Anyway we can get something where the two end up reconnecting, rekindling, and end up together in the end after Christian’s divorce? I feel like even though they had a rough relationship growing up, you can’t tell me they aren’t soulmates. You can’t tell me this man had secretly loved here since they were young and didn’t realize it until she got into her high school and college era. I love this so much dude 😩🫶🏼❤️"

Disclaimers: Anger, physical altercation, fighting (verbally), cursing, angst. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 2,682

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Side note: This story is officially complete. I won't be adding anything else to it. You can read the first part of the story here and also the prequel to the story here! Thanks for following along 🖤

Adam noticed that you had been MIA again for the last half hour of your party. He knew you couldn’t have gotten far, so he started searching the house for you. He was about to knock on your bedroom door, his fingers already against the wood but he stopped when he heard you crying. His heart sank as he stood and listened to your cries turn into sobs! When he couldn’t take it any longer, he opened your door just a crack and spoke softly, “Hey, sis. What’s wrong? Can I come in?” You were curled in a ball on your bed with your face buried in your hands, but you managed to let out a pathetic “yes” in response. He came and sat at the foot of your bed, fidgeting while trying to figure out how to proceed with your conversation. “Did something happen at the party? Talk to me, sis,” he prodded. When you sat up and looked your brother in the eyes, the flood gates opened, words and tears flowing freely, leaving you out of breath by the time you were finished. It was obvious the more you carried on, the more Adam’s anger grew. His hands were balled into fists that rested on his thighs and his jaw was clenched so tightly you don’t know how his teeth didn’t break! You didn’t go into every detail about the relationship you and Christian had before, sparing him the part about losing your virginity to him, but everything else was no longer a secret. Hurt flashed in his eyes when you apologized for not telling him sooner, leaving you wishing that you could take it all back and rewrite the past. In between sniffles you peered over at your brother who was clearly conflicted on how to feel about the situation, and he damn near exploded when you asked him what he was thinking. With every word he said, his voice became more elevated, “What am I thinking? WHAT am I thinking right now? I’m thinking about how my baby sister and my best friend kept this huge secret from me for 2 years. I’m thinking about how stupid I am for not seeing how things really were that summer. I must be going fucking blind and need to get my eyes checked! I’m trying to come up with a reason not to kill that blonde son of a bitch with my bare hands right now! He not only made you cry again, but he broke a promise. That’s unacceptable in my book."

You begged and pleaded with Adam to calm down when he jumped up off your bed and darted out the door in search of Christian. Rage was radiating off him as he checked behind every door, looking for his best friend around every corner in the house before finding him sitting outside on the front porch. The loud thud the door made when Adam threw it open made everyone jump! “What the hell, man? You alright?” Christian asked as he stood up. Adam walked over to him and got mere inches away from his face and shouted, “No, dumbass! I’m not alright! I know about you and my little sister. I know all about the summer you shared!” Christian’s eyes darted between yours and your brother’s, unsure of how to proceed. You pulled on Adam’s arm trying to get him to come back inside, but he brushed you off. Your brother’s chest was rising and falling rapidly with each shallow breath he took, the veins in his forehead protruding while he waited for Christian to say something. “Look, Adam we were going to tell you. Time just got away from us, and our relationship was over at the end of the summer anyways. It’s in the past now,” he explained, but Adam wasn’t having any of it. Your brother shoved Christian once, making him stumble back a little before shoving him again and again. “You’ve had 2 years to tell me asshole! How could you keep something like that from me, man?! And why my baby sister? Why her?!” Christian grew more irritated the more Adam jabbed his finger into his chest, and the atmosphere quickly became more tense. You knew you had to try and separate the two of them and you gave it your best effort when you cried out, “Please, Adam! Go back in the house and try to calm down. You’re not thinking straight right now, and I don’t want this to get any worse. I’m begging you! Please!” Something made Christian snap, one could blame it on Adam’s harsh words or his death stare, but what came out of Christian’s mouth next knocked the wind right out of you without even being touched, “You make it sound like this was all my doing! Y/N isn’t innocent in all this you know! It takes two to tango and boy did we tango a lot that summer!”

You weren’t sure what was louder, Adam shouting “YOU FUCKED HER?!” or the sound of his fist connecting with Christian’s face. One punch led to two and eventually both men ended up rolling around on the ground! After Christian landed a couple punches of his own on your brother’s face, he had him pinned to the ground. It didn’t last long though since Adam’s 6’5 frame overpowered him! Your brother’s voice was eerily calm when he spoke again and you could see the anguish written on his face, “First you take my little sister’s innocence, then you break the promise you made the both of us! Not to mention you kept all of this from me. Go fuck yourself.” He let go of Christian as he stood up and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. He immediately clutched his ribcage as pain radiated from the area, and winced when he touched the giant goose egg that was already forming on his forehead. Christian didn’t look any better while he laid on the ground groaning and trying to catch his breath. No further words were shared between any of you that night. Everything that did- and didn’t- need to be said was already out in the open. When your mother caught wind of the situation, she was thankful no one was seriously injured and that no one in the neighborhood called the police. Later on, you looked out the front window and noticed Christian was no longer there. He must’ve gone to his parent’s house when he was finally able to peel himself off the ground. You didn’t see Christian again after that night. Your brother didn’t talk to you for weeks after everything went down the way it did. You called him hundreds of times and sent countless text messages, but you never got a reply. You apologized and begged him to talk to you in every voicemail you left him. Eventually you got the hint and gave him the time and space he needed even though it hurt like hell not being able to talk to your big brother. You could only hope that what they say is true, “time heals all wounds.”

1 year later ⏭️

Almost a month after the fight happened, Adam started talking to you again! The two of you had several long and difficult conversations about everything that went on the night of your graduation party and the summer you and Christian spent together. While things felt like they were back to normal, you knew deep down inside that your relationship with your brother had been altered a little bit. You were shocked to learn that Christian was the one to call Adam and make amends with him! They somehow worked through everything and rekindled their friendship. He even asked Adam to be the best man at his wedding!

“You know you’re invited too,” your mom’s voice startled you when she walked into the kitchen unannounced. You had been staring at Christian’s wedding invitation that seemed to mock you every time you approached the fridge. It took everything in you not to yank it down and rip it to shreds! “There’s no way I’m going! It must’ve been an oversight on someone’s part including my name on it. Do me a favor, don’t write my name on the wedding card you got them.”

Christian’s big day had eventually come and gone, and you made sure to avoid hearing anything about it. One day when you were in the checkout line at the grocery store, a magazine cover caught your eye. You tossed it in the cart when you noticed who was on the front and looked over it in your car. You sat in the parking lot for a good 30 minutes crying over the stunning picture of Christian and his new bride. You read over the article more times than you should’ve, eyes skimming over the words that described every detail of their grand affair. Your heart was aching by the time you tossed the magazine into the backseat, the realization settling in that you and Christian were nothing more than a long-gone memory.

Over the next several years, Adam’s popularity in the professional wrestling world continued to skyrocket. He was definitely a fan favorite! While you enjoyed watching him achieve his career goals and dreams, your favorite thing he accomplished was marrying his wife and giving you two beautiful nieces. Seeing him this happy meant the world to you, and you could only hope that you would find the same happiness one day too. You were thriving in your own ways, having a successful career of your own, a great group of friends that you adore, checking things off your bucket list left and right, and spending time with your mom every chance you got. You focused on the things that really mattered to you and embraced your independence! As far as you knew, Christian and his wife were doing well but you hadn’t heard anything about them in a long time. Even though you tried to forget him, the memories of growing up together and falling in love with him crept in your mind from time to time. There had been several guys that tried to pursue you over the years, but none of them ended up capturing your heart the way that Christian did. You had been in one long term relationship that helped ease the sting of loneliness, but you knew it wasn’t fair to keep them around when your heart still longed for someone else. You eventually let them go, and the sadness in their eyes when you told them it was over still haunts you to this day.

For Adam’s last match before he officially retired, he wanted you and your mom ringside along with his wife and your nieces to cheer him on! You were hesitant at first to do it, but you agreed when your brother reassured you that Christian wouldn’t be there due to having other obligations. Everything with Adam’s match went well and it was over in the blink of an eye! All 5 of you girls cried when the referee gave the final 3 count as Adam laid in the center of the ring. During the commercial break he walked over and hugged each of you and thanked you all for loving him and supporting him all this time. The company he worked for was throwing him a party after the show was off the air, and once it began, he was being pulled in every direction as more and more people wanted to congratulate him. Your mom was with your nieces at the dessert table while your sister-in-law mingled with some of the female wrestlers. You found yourself alone standing at a tall cocktail table sipping on your drink, just taking in the different sights and sounds of the party. Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw someone standing near your table, but when you turned to get a better look, they were gone. You brushed it off and returned your gaze to the party. “Come join us aunt Y/N!” your nieces called out to you from the dance floor. You weren’t really in the mood to dance, but what kind of aunt would you be to decline such a sweet invitation?

“Again! Again!” your nieces cheered as you twirled them around simultaneously! The song playing was upbeat and fun and you were enjoying laughing and smiling with your favorite little girls. All too soon it started to fade out and was replaced by a slow song instead. Everyone except for a few couples left the dance floor, and you were on your way back to your table when an old familiar voice stopped you in your tracks, “Hey, Y/N. It’s…been a long time.” Christian’s greeting instantly took you back to the night of your graduation party when he addressed you the same way. Your stomach did a flip when you turned and took in the sight of him. He was still as handsome as ever; time had clearly treated him well! Your reply was shy and quiet as his blue eyes bore into you, “Hi, Christian…” He cleared his throat before speaking again, clearly just as nervous as you were being face to face after all this time. “Um, would you like to dance?” he asked sheepishly. You were hesitant at first, but the way he was looking at you made your resolve fade and the next thing you knew; you had your arms wrapped around his neck and the two of you were swaying along with the music.

A few moments passed in silence, the both of you unsure of what to say but Christian eventually spoke up, “You look great, Y/N. How are you?” His compliment made a small smile form in the corner of your mouth which made him smile too. “I’m fine, thank you. But um, what are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t make it tonight. If you haven’t already, you’ll have to find Adam! I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you,” you replied. “I decided being here for Adam was more important that my original plans. I watched the match from backstage. I was also hoping you would be here. It’s good to see you, Y/N.” His last few words made you blush, but the pink that covered your cheeks faded away when you remembered an important detail, Christian is married! You dropped your arms from around his neck causing concern to envelop his handsome features. “Where’s your wife?” you asked, even though you didn’t want to know the answer. His response shocked you, “Actually, we’re divorced. Everything was finalized a few months back. Marrying her was a mistake and it’s something I deeply regret. I had no idea what I was doing back then and I sure as hell don’t know what I’m doing right now, but I had to see you Y/N. Over the years I probably asked Adam and your mom about you more than I should’ve, but it made me happy knowing that you were doing so well. I never stopped thinking about you, not even once! I’m sorry it took me so long to realize what an idiot I am. I just hope I’m not too late.”

It had been 4 months since Adam’s retirement party. 4 months since that night ended with Christian asking you if he could see you again. 4 months since you and your soulmate rekindled your love for one other. It’s been quite the journey to get to this point, but you’re so thankful you and Christian found your way back to each other. Everyone knew that it wouldn’t be long before Christian would propose to you, and you couldn’t wait to be his wife! When the time comes for you to recite your vows to one another, Christian would be making a new promise to you that he would continue to love you for the rest of your lives and the tears he will make you cry that day will be tears of pure joy.

[heyclickadee]

On the one hand, Anakin never had a chance. He needed help that the Jedi order, in its prequel iteration, was not equipped to give, and the war made everything worse. His fall is complicated; he made awful, stupid choices well before order 66, but those stupid, awful choices were often encouraged by the people around him and especially by Palpatine, who should not have been allowed to be around little Anakin as much as he was, if at all.

He had a tendency to lash out, yes, but between being a slave and having no control over anything in his life until he was nine, and being told to squash everything unpleasant down afterwards, it’s no wonder he would explode. I actually think the idea of non-attachment is a good one, but non-attachment is difficult, the prequel era order approach to non-attachment had flaws, and they didn’t know how to deal with someone like Anakin, who was introduced to the order older and with some awful life experience, or how to give him the tools to let go. Giving him a padawan with the intention of teaching Anakin how to move on in a healthy way was a good idea on paper; in normal times, Ahsoka would have simply graduated to the next stage of Jedi life and remained a part Anakin’s life, albeit in a different capacity. It might have been healing for Anakin to be part of that. But because of the war, because of how things with Ahsoka actually played out, that sentiment backfired in the worst possible way. It made Anakin cling even more tightly to the people he cared about and distrust the council more than ever.

And this is all besides the effect basically being a walking force nexus surrounded by a hundred metric tons of ambient bad at all times during the war. You know which Anakin line haunts me? “I can still hear the screams,” from the episode where he and Ahsoka are investigating the Jedi temple bombing. Is that what it’s like? Being a Jedi, having access to the force, being a general, and being engulfed in violence and its aftermath all the time? And not having an outlet to deal with it because all the Jedi around you are going through the same thing, so there’s nothing to do but press on? I’m not blaming anyone (besides Palpatine) for Anakin’s actions. He made his own choices, and they were cruel, but damn it if he wasn’t primed to fail. Maybe not as hard as he did, but still.

On the other hand, if Anakin ever appears to Ahsoka as a ghost, if Rex is there, if Rex knows, and if Rex by some chance can see him, I hope the first thing Rex does is pull out his blaster and shoot. Not to hurt Anakin, because he can’t, but to make a point. Anakin was his general and his friend, Anakin was supposed to give a damn, and then Anakin turned around and marched his brothers up the temple steps knowing they had no choice but help him kill everyone inside. Even the children. The elderly. The babies. Because the clones who lived through the temple purge had to live with that, and Rex probably saw what it did to them.

[lol-jackles]

https://twitter.com/GGeneralHolt8/status/1780036709247221768?t=aHBGWnaKgNp0W-hz1Y3dWQ&s=19

I don't know if this is actually a reliable source, but it sounds like something Jensen would do

Link.

Jensen's pitch: I can see it right now. It's just one scene. Middle America, Big Sky country. It's just wheat fields as far as the eye can see. I look in the distance, and it's like Lawrence of Arabia when Omar Sharif was riding up with the camel. The lone figure gets closer and closer and closer. It's Kripke on a motorcycle.

Kripke: You’re not ready for Solider Boy prequel!!

Sony: Ready for what, more blackmail?

Kripke: It’s so crazy I can’t believe I’m getting away ...wait what?

Sony: And every time your writers don't know how to end a scene, they'll just push the "explode person" button, right?

Kripke: No no I promise it will be batshit crazy!

AA: Jensen is going to be live action Batman, finally!

Kripke: What? No! I said it's going to be batshit crazy that you're not ready for it!!

Jensen: And I even have the soundtrack in my head. There were no words spoken. I had this swelling score. It was like some Robert Zemeckis film.

Sony: What are we taling about?

[thebibliomancer]

Earth X #5

Thor seems different than usual.

It’s probably the braids.

Earth X: what you get when you ask Alex Ross to write a Kingdom Come tier story for Marvel. It is Bad Future! Uatu the Watcher has been blinded and he’s forced Aaron to be his seeing eye robot.

If you’re wondering what their dynamic is, it’s this:

The world is a mess with mind-control squids and body-control forever teens. Everyone has been mutated and Reed Richards blames himself. Many of the heroes we know are dead, retired, or in the clutches of the squid or the kid. And the world may be destroyed by vibranium or humanity may super-evolve into space gods.

As we go on and learn more about this setting, there are more and more plot threads.

Captain America in a flag yoga and Wyatt Wingfoot went to California to investigate the Skull, a horrible teen with the power to control people. The Skull took Wyatt for his growing army but left Steve alone because it was funnier that way.

While Steve sits and despairs about the hopelessness of the situation, circus Daredevil shows up and offers to become Steve’s new sidekick.

I am alarmed that this guy is relevant to the plot.

Also… I’m kind of wondering if he’s supposed to be Deadpool. Not actually Wade Wilson Deadpool himself but he has a lot of Deadpool energy and almost nothing to do with Matt Murdock. Alex Ross usually doesn’t like anything introduced after the death of Barry Allen but I wonder if he liked Deadpool enough to want to include someone like him.

This circus Daredevil is given an actual origin in a prequel from a few years back but the idea is sticking in my mind.

He’s red and black, he wants to work with Cap, he’s got an irreverent sense of humor, and he’s got a healing factor so strong he can’t die and has little self-preservation instinct anymore.

Anyway.

The Inhumans continue their journey to find their missing prince. Last issue, Reed Doom promised he’d help by getting a Cerebro and reprogramming it to find Inhumans. He takes off - using a teleportation device made out of Lockjaw… Aww, best doggo is dead? This really is Bad Future.

Reed leaving causes the Doombots of Castle Doom to suddenly register the Inhumans as intruders.

Their fight against the bots leads Medusa and Luna to discovering Dr Doom’s time platform… and Reed’s notes on it, reflecting he really wants to use it to save Sue from exploding but he doesn’t know when he’d stop altering history if he started.

Elsewhere, Cyclops is contacted by Corsair, Havok, and Polaris. FROM SPACE!

They know something bad is going to happen to Earth and want to bring Scott away to space safety.

He refuses to leave without Jean, even though she chose Wolverine over him in the love triangle.

Also, when Alex Ross doesn’t like a character, you know it. And he seems to hate Wolverine.

The appendix reveals that all the psychics are dead (Professor X, MODOK) or depowered (Jean).

Not sure yet why but it means there’s nobody to counter the kid or the squid.

Over in New York, Kid Bruce and Gorilla Hulk visit Sorcerer Supreme Clea.

Clea and Wong explain to Bruce that Strange’s astral form was destroyed while it was out of his body. His body still lives but he’s essentially dead. And that’s why Clea is sorcererly supreme.

So Bruce explains what he’s there for. He’s been having the oddest recurring dream.

Of Captain Marvel on his Death of Captain Marvel deathbed. In the dream, he rises out of bed and shows the assembled crowd of friends, allies, and respected enemies that he has the universe inside him. And then dies.

A universe inside a person sounds to Clea like Eternity. But Eternity is dead. Despite being the universe. Not sure how that happens.

Bruce really wants Mar-Vell to explain the dream to him so he asks Clea to dunk him into the Realm of Death.

I feel like there’s intermediate steps you could try but what do I know.

And geez, Bruce’s dream of the universe inside a dude and visiting death to interpret it on top of the world possibly ending and superpowered menaces running amok with nobody to stop them… This universe is a mess.

(By the way, the appendix notes that Carol Danvers is the current Captain Marvel and that she’s in space helping the Kree on their destroyed capital. So Earth X gets two more tallies for things the 616 would copy later.)

Now then. Let’s talk cover Thor.

Earth X wants to paint the entire history of Marvel with one brushstroke. Superpowers and even super genius is the result of Celestial meddling.

The gods were mentioned in issue 0 as being in conflict with the Celestials but I guess Ross didn’t feel like actual gods fit the picture he was painting.

On Earth X, the Asgardians aren’t gods. They’re super advanced shapeshifting emphatic aliens with no personality of their own who take their identity from those who observe them.

They came to Earth and were viewed as the Norse gods so the Norse gods they became.

Their powers became what people expected them to be. Their personalities became what people expected them to be.

I have no idea how this alien race of blank slates managed to invent space travel.

I don’t particularly like this worldbuilding idea for Thor’s slice of Marvel. His mythos feels diminished if it’s just aliens play-acting old stories.

Anyway, girl bod Thor is fighting some storm giants that made their way to Midgard* alongside the Iron Avengers, who Thor treats as friends.

*Earth

Tony Stark in his isolation somewhere tells the Iron Avengers to respond to another crisis because Thor’s got this one handled.

Vision in a cool hood wants to argue, feeling Tony is being manipulated by President Norman Osborn but ultimately does what Tony asks.

Back of the book appendix info: when the mass empowering event started, Tony sealed himself in isolation, afraid of being changed. He didn’t know but Scott Lang Ant-Man snuck himself and his daughter Cassie into Tony’s isolated environment to try to protect her. But she wound up changing anyway. And now they’re stuck because they can’t leave without compromising Tony’s sealed environment.

The people outside that were mutated came to resent Tony for not being mutated so kept trying to attack his bunker or whatever. So he created the Iron Avengers and gave them his dead friends’ personalities.

Honestly, I can’t wait for the issue that focuses on Tony. There seems to be a lot to unpack.

Also in appendix news, Osborn went on a secret killing spree of supervillains before he took power. He wiped out a lot of Tony’s rogues gallery, for example. And he was never elected as president. He just had himself declared as such and a jaded mutated populace went okay whatever.

Earth X is a mess.

After fighting off the storm giants, Thor calls Loki out as responsible for the attack.

Interesting new design Loki. Could do with you being less interpersonally gross though.

Unsurprisingly, Loki is behind Thor’s new look, having somehow tricked Odin into turning his brother into a woman as his latest trial of humility.

And if Thor goes back to Asgard to tell Odin that Loki is up to his shit again, Loki will lock Thor away from Earth so he can’t stop his evil scheming.

This is a weird plot point.

I’ve heard that it inspired Jane Foster Thor but I’m pretty sure both this and Jane Foster Thor were inspired by the What If where Jane Foster became Thor.

Thor seems only mildly irritated by this whole thing but sheesh, with everything else going on why throw this in?

Earth X is a mess. Captain America is demoralized and wearing the flag as a toga. Cyclops is depressed and lost the love of his life, again. Spider-Man is depressed and has a Venom daughter. Reed is depressed and blames himself for the state of the world.

And Thor has been rule 63’d. But at least he’s not depressed?

[mylittlenookcorner]

This is just a brain dump because I finished reading The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon, and this book got me in a chokehold. If I don’t let it out some way I think I will explode.

I honestly haven’t read a book in so long that represented POCs like Priory where being a POC is not them being insecure or that their whole plot line or personality. They are in depth characters with goals and journeys they go through, they have their own passions and beliefs they hold so dear to their hearts that seem unbreakable, but develop an open mindedness to learning, growing and forming a deeper understanding of the world beyond their own beliefs. They are badass magical warriors who are so so vital to the plot. They’re not just there to coddle or be side characters. They are given the biggest spotlight to shine and grow!

Samantha Shannon writes them so beautifully and so strong with so much care and love! And the queerness of the characters. Oh my god. How natural and normal it is in the Priory world is gorgeous! Imagine living in a world where you’re not chastised the slightest bit for loving who you love. The Queen of the greatest kingdom falls in love with her handmaiden and the repercussion that followed was due to rank difference, not because they’re two women.

As a bisexual woman of colour, I can’t emphasise how much joy and love I have for this book. Growing up it was difficult to find literature where LGBTQ+ characters were the protagonists in genres I gravitate towards, let alone LGBTQ+ people of colour! Not in the mainstream and popular media at least in the early-mid 2010s when I was a teenager (will not disclose my age but yes, I am this old). I’m sure a lot of people my age can relate to this, but the world is expanding with literature and media a lot of us were searching for when we were younger.

What a beautiful thing that is, right?

And, honestly, all the characters! They’re so fleshed out and unique. Sabran is complex and such an interesting character with her own pain from societal pressures as Queen, to produce a daughter for her line, etc. She did annoy me at times in the beginning. I found her a little bratty but in my opinion? She didn’t know any better and to watch her character development was stunning. High key grew into probably the best ruler of Inys ever had. Even Niclays, honestly. Man’s sanity was hanging on by a thread and got himself in the worst situations known to man, but his downfalls and breakdowns were so entertaining. Loth’s journey was so stressful and this guy had one crisis of faith after another, but he’s one of my favourite characters, for real. He’d go to hell and back for his friends, he loves his sister so dearly and it just melts my heart what he’d do for the people he loves.

And goes without saying Ead & Tané: god-tier characters! My badass warrior queens! Both so stubborn and passionate and strong and flawed! They parallel each other, they have so many similarities but so unique from each other!

I may or may not shut up about Priory for a while, but I do have a few more books in my TBR I’m dying to read in the next coming months. That includes the prequel, A Day Of Fallen Night. I can’t wait to sink my teeth into that one!

[maxwell-grant]

SF6 Comic Issues #3 thoughts

A bit late with this one since I had no time whatsoever the past few weeks, and I think they’ve wrapped it up now? I’ll have to get to issue #4 separately but it sure feels like it, also holy shit what an ending if so. 

Frankly the way things have been going for him I wouldn’t be surprised if Ken actually was just attacked by a random pack of vultures, or that JP would have trained vultures to sicc on him. Also nice bird symbolism with these and his cane in Issue #2 as hints towards him being the real figure behind Amnesia, I guess it wasn’t that surprising but we BETTER get that plague doctor mask as an option for him in-game

“Ken Masters, my friend” lmao

A lot of beats I appreciate here like how, in JP’s speech about how their top priority is to defend the citizens of Nayshall and how they are at risk even if the information isn’t true, and how his line about countries having an excuse to intervene is punctuated by focusing on the American paramilitary hearing it (and in the next issue these guys will generally make things worse, with Luke having to yell at them to stand down so they don’t execute Ken within broad daylight with millions watching). Might be reading too much into it but I can’t see this, when American interventionism is relevant to the plot and the next issue will feature a character criticizing it, as a coincidence.

I’m grateful that Luke is stepping in to play the part of “brash idiot cop representing De Law chasing the actual hero while usually being either useless or making things worse”, a massive burden lifted from Chun-Li’s shoulders that she’s always been too good for, but he isn’t. And I particularly love that beat where JP catches Luke having a conscience crisis while moping about his origin story, and gently but firmly knocks him back into the narrative he needs him to play his part in

A little dissappointed that Amnesia was never real but, I knew JP’s mask-off moment was going to be sick. And since this a prequel comic and Ken’s situation has notably not improved much in-game, we knew JP was going to get away with everything. But oh my god this is so good, I’m gonna have to make at least one post on JP and the picture the comic presents of him specifically, he’s so fucking good. 

Just how much he’s getting away with is one thing, but that mask off moment being punctuated with not only JP turning into a Metal Gear villain smugly monologuing about his philosophical terrorist plans that lie somewhere between batshit and poignant, but there’s the reveal that he’s placed cellphones modified into exploding triggers for drone bombs across the entire city and strapped Mel to a chair with one of those bombs beneath it, forcing Ken to decide to either let his son die or press the button to detonate all of those bombs on innocents within the city (and thus actually have blood in his hands). 

And he says this to Ken while loudly tapping his cane rhythmically to the ticking of the bomb hanging over Mel’s head as if, what, the guy wasn’t psychologically crumbling fast enough for his liking. And he leaves merrily whistling to himself, completely secure. 

Next issue begins with a news report stating that multiple bombs were detonated and several buildings were levelled and several civilians injured (with no casualities only because Luke figured it out early and issued a warning), no “the bombs were decoys” fake-out so, yeah, Ken actually did just press a button to kill people there and in the next issue we see how badly this and the whole situation have driven him into despair. 

And it seems like a wholly sadistic and pointless cruelty JP’s inflicting on him, but oh no it isn’t, as we’ll see in the next issue. All of JP’s talk about stories and narratives and fictions that people crave at the expense of reality come to a head in, what else, a fight, the only fight in the comic as of yet. Maybe as cynically as this series has ever approached the premise of getting two guys to duke it out for people’s entertainment as a form of storytelling. 

A premise that you wouldn’t remotely be able to tell with Ryu or Sakura or Chun-Li and so on, because this is professional street fighting stripped to it’s coldest capitalist reality, a cruel and exploitative distraction run by number-crunching profiteers playing along chumps with their reasons for butchering each other publicly. 

Y’know somehow Street Fighter was less dark when druglord dictators and eugenicist cult leaders were in charge of these tournaments.

[randomalistic]

I think monsters university is my favorite prequel ever If we exclude five night s at Freddy’s 2

Spoilers obviously .

Ok no but genuinely they made that movie so fucking good for no reason and I forced my parents to rewatch it with me lmfao. I’m too tired to go off about Sully and Mike’s characters in the movie but they’re surprisingly complex and I REALLY LIKE THE CONFLICTS THEY GO THROUGH UGHH.. thar friendship🥹 also Jesus crhist the scene where they scare the adults gives me chills every time because it’s so fucking good AND WHEN THEY TALK AT THE LAKE… and after Mike finds out the difficulty was rigged…

I’m eating it up so much I love when 2 guys Hate eachother at the start but then become so genuinely vulnerable and understand eachother by the end after they formed a strong friendship

I’m not even gonna get started on the monsters inc world as a Concept because it’s like the best and cleverest worldbuilding ever so I’m already Very invested in that. But the stakes were so high here and they were so vulnerable and th. Sobs.

AND. Holy fuck

Mike works SO hard and he’s belittled and stepped on repeatedly and his dreams are basically Crushed Multiple Times throughout the film and yet he perseveres. And at the end he DOESNT “win.” He doesn’t get back into the scare program. He isn’t scary and he will never be scary even though that’s all he wants EVER. Mike works like 100x harder than Sully to try and be scary whereas Sully is scary without trying because he just Looks like that. And that’s so fucking real dude .... it reminds me a lot of learning disabilities and disabilities in general. “You’re not scary, but you’re fearless” I’m gonna explode

It’s so disability positive, and NOT in a super “my disability is actually awesome and gives me an advantage!” Kind of way ( that message in itself isn’t Terrible but it’s missing realism and it’s a little over-positive) but yeah the fact it DOESNT do that is GREAT. Because disabilities DONT give you an advantage in most things. Having a disability means you have to work extra hard to be level with everyone else and it’s exhausting. The special thing about Mike is that he’s able to exceptionally plan and think ahead and he’s really intelligent despite not being scary. (Aka his disability)

This video puts it really well better than I can lol but GRAAGHHH this movie is so fucking good thank you 2013 pixar. It’s always such a joy to revisit and it’s one of my favorites and I love it

[lumiereandcogsworth]

If there was ever a beauty and the beast 2 (which will never happen since emma retired i think 😭) what would you think the plot of that movie would be??

this may be a boring and/or hot take but gosh i sure hope there’s never a second film !!! i really hope so!!!! my reasoning, entirely, is that i’ve been building my own post-canon lore for literally seven years now. so if that second film isn’t written by me, it’s probably going to be incorrect <3 LMAO. that is, if it’s adam & belle centric! they’re my loves

you know what i’d totally be down for?? written Not By Me? like a prequel about some of the staff. like a lumiere & plumette backstory. or cogsworth !!! i have my own little headcanons about them but i wouldn’t be bothered if they got smashed by a different take. they are not my blorbos, i just appreciate them.

a prequel that i would also need to write of course is adam’s backstory, which is so incredibly detailed for me that i sometimes feel like a legit historian talking about a real historical monarchy sjdksjdk. or belle’s backstory even!! or!! YOU KNOW WHAT I NEED TO WRITE? maurice & maria’s love story. i knoooooow how it happens and i’ve written scenes but i need to Finish That and publish it on ao3. people need to know belle’s parents’ exquisite love story!!!!

anyway what was your question??? what would the plot be. ough i don’t know. i already plan on writing adam & belle’s children’s love stories (ala bridgerton, but less spicy) so we don’t need that from hollywood. ummmm. idk. honestly i love giving adam & belle just quiet domestic lives. although!!!!!!!!!! i did think of one crazy idea…. but i actually may write that some day so i don’t wanna share !!! i’ll just say it involves a major character death and needing agathe to resurrect them. but she’s a trickster and makes a deal that makes it difficult to achieve the resurrection. THAT’S all i’ll say there 🤭

obviously i’d love to see adam and belle married with children on the big screen but like i said, if they called their children Not the names i’ve had for seven years, i’d explode a little bit! so i mean if disney wants to hire me (and emma comes out of retirement) i will happily work with people to come up with a fun plot. i’m not a fun plot person unfortunately but i do know adam and belle (and maurice) better than anyone!