#Bow Roll Manufacturer

[rubberfillet-blog]

[arvindrubberindia]

Learning about Bowed Rolls and its benefits for the Paper industry

Bowed spreaders or bowed rolls comprise a central beam with a bow-shaped bow in it. Therefore, it is called bowed rolls. Whereas bearings are mounted across the entire roll. It is ideally designed for the paper industry.

[milaisreading]

Limited amount!!

🌱🩷: here is something for thr Crossdresser!Yn AU. I have been so depressed ever since I saw the leaks for the new JJK chapter... this is kind of helping me to get my mind off of it. Hope u like it🩷

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. In the story the boys will be using he/him when addressing Yn. Requests for this series are open.

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️

"Are you...are you sure about this?" Anri asked the striker in front of her while Ego sat on his chair, eating his noodles.

"I think it's for the best, Teieri-san. To not waste money on manufacturing something that won't sell well." (Y/n) argued, confused as to why the older woman was so reluctant with agreeing. After all, the JFU would probably embrace the idea of saving money.

"Yeah, but... just 15? (Y/n), you know you do have fans-"

"I think that's for the best. I definitely don't have Isagi or Rin's popularity,  so I don't think my figurine will sell well. Please spare me this humiliation, Teieri-san, Ego-san. " (Y/n) explained as she held the prototype of her figurine that Anri gave her. It was nothing special, just a smaller version of her smiling in the Blue Lock uniform. There was a short silence as the striker looked at the two for a moment, hoping they will do her this one favor.

"I can't just-"

"Fine." Ego interrupted Anri, both now looking at the man.

"You did prove to be a great player and so far hid your identity very well. So we will grant you this one wish." Ego said as he finished his food. (Y/n) looked at him in shock for a moment, but then smiled and bowed.

"Thank you. Thank you, Ego-san." She kept repeating to the man, who just nodded his head. Anri looked nervously between the duo, wondering how all of this will end up.

"It's so weird seeing merch of myself." (Y/n) mumbled to herself as she walked to the bedroom she shared with Isagi, Rin, and Bachira. She chuckled a little, already knowing she will be greeted by Rin doing his usual yoga, and Isagi and Bachira messing around. And sure enough, when she opened the door she saw just that. Bachira and Isagi were telling jokes while Rin tried to hide his irritation while doing his normal yoga routine.

"(Y/n)! Where were you?! I need my hug buddy!" Bachira exclaimed as he saw the girl enter their room and lunged at her.

"Bachira, wait!" She shrieked as the boy ran to and engulfed her into a hug, nearly causing the girl to fall down. The girl stumbled back, but thankfully grabbed onto a wall to not injure himself or something.

'Bachira might not look like much, but God is he strong.'

"Hey, Bachira, could you maybe let go of me?" (Y/n) asked nervously.

"Nope~" The bicolored boy sang out, causing her the sigh and pat him on his back a few times. Meanwhile, Rin and Isagi were sending death glares at Bachira's back. Both were mad that he was the one to hug (Y/n) first, but also for causing her to nearly fall down.

"Bachira, let go of him." Isagi spoke up finally and went to grab Bachira's shirt, pulling the boy away from (Y/n).

"Hey!" The boy protested.

(Y/n) internally thanked Isagi for giving her the free space back.

"I will hug you later, Bachira. I am just really tired right now." She spoke up, trying to stop their argument, but neither was listening.

Rin, on the other hand, was staring at the trio in anger. Not only were they causing him a ruckus, but (Y/n) also said she will hug Bachira later.

'That mediocre player really doesn't deserve it.' He rolled his eyes, but then they landed on a small item on the floor. One he never saw before in his life.

Rin walked over and picked it up, only to discover that it was a small figurine of (Y/n).

When Bachira hugged her, she ended up losing her grip on the item, and neither her or the other two noticed it.

'What is this? And why does it look like (Y/n)?' Rin wondered, tapping the smiling figurines cheek.

'I basically touched his face now.' Rin thought with a blush, then looked over at the trio.

"Lukewarm, (Y/n)." He cleared his throat as the trio looked at him.

"Yes?" She asked as the other two sent Rin a glare for calling her a lukewarm.

"What is this?" He asked while showing them the figurine. Isagi and Bachira's eyes widened when they saw the item.

'A mini (Y/n)!' Bachira thought with stars in his eyes.

'So adorable!' Isagi's face turned redder.

"Oh... the JFU wants to test a first merch launch, and they picked me for it. It's just a prototype of what it will look like." (Y/n) explained, walking over to Rin and taking it our of his hand.

"Merch?! Of you?!" Bachira asked in excitement.

"Yeah... it's launching in two weeks." (Y/n) shrugged her shoulders, walking over to her shelf to put the item on it.

"So we- I mean, your fans will have the chance to own a mini you?!" Isagi asked with a huge smile and blush as (Y/n) turned to look at him.

"Basically."

Rin kept quiet as he stared at the figurine with wide eyes, also excited over these news.

'I will definitely buy one.' The three thought in determination.

"Tho, I was honored to be the first one, it would have been better if they picked a more popular player. I don't think mine will sell well, so I asked them to make only 15 of these." (Y/n) finished explaining, and the last part definitely left them deflated. 'ONLY 15?! How can I get one even?!' Bachira thought, already panicking that be won't be able to get his hands on one of the figurines.

'(Y/n), why would you do that?! How will I get my hands on one, when I have to fight against both your fangirls and the other players?!' Isagi gulped as anxiety took over his body.

'This lukewarm needs to work on his confidence, now I will have to start a blood bath.' Rin groaned.

"A-are you 3 alright?" (Y/n)'s worried voice interrupted their thoughts, and all 3 quickly nodded their heads.

"Of course we are!"

"Only 15?!" Reo and Barou exclaimed in disbelief as the trio explained the whole story from last night.

"What sort of confidence does he even have? Nagi, Reo, this is your fault." Otoya grumbled, earning side-glares from the two.

"How is this our fault? We didn't do anything." Nagi protested.

"Exactly that!" Yukimiya said, fixing his glasses.

"If you were good friends to (Y/n), you would have noticed he was in distress with his self-worth. Now, with me he would have not had these issues. I would have told (Y/n) everyday how wonderful and talented he is." The model said proudly, earning a scowl from Reo.

"Please shut up, show off. You are just mad (Y/n) doesn't like you."

"But Yukimiya does have a point." Karasu chimed in, glaring at Reo.

"Didn't you two basically abandon him during the 1st selection? Even during the 2nd one, Nagi, you basically acted like he didn't exist."

Barou pointed it out, which irritated the duo.

"You know nothing." Nagi said, glaring at the red-eyed boy.

"This is not the point now." Aryu clapped his hands, causing the rest to look at him.

"Aryu is right, we should focus on what's important." Kunigami added in.

"And that is, how do we get one of those figurines when there is only 15?"

The room fell silent as neither really knew how to answer that.

"Maybe we could try convincing (Y/n) that he should go for more figurines? Isagi, Barou, you two are the closest to him. Maybe you should try it." Kurona suggested as everyone looked at the duo. Both of them looked at each other, and then shook their heads.

"I don't think we should do that. It's his decision and I don't want him to feel bad about it." Isagi answered, Barou for the first time agreeing with something.

"Yeah... forcing him or convincing him will do us all more harm than good." Hiori added in.

"Well then, it's every man for himself. I will get my hand on one of those figurines." Karasu declared with a smirk.

"Not if I do first!" Bachira challenged back.

"Logically thinking, it's more likely that only one of us gets one... (Y/n) has many fans, so we are not competing just among each other anymore." Niko reminded them.

"Well, then I will be the one to get it." Rin said after a short pause, causing the rest to look at him weirdly.

"Now, why would you be the to get it?!" Otoya questioned.

"Because, I am the best one in this facility, therefore I deserve it more."

"Just because you are the best one, doesn't mean you deserve a figurine, Rin-chan~" Bachira said cheerfully.

"What?" Rin asked, irritated by the boy's remark.

"Bachira is right, if anything, someone who is close to (Y/n) should get the figurine. And that someone is me!" Chigiri finally spoke up, shocking everyone.

"What?! How are you the closest one with him?" Yukimiya remarked.

"We both braid each other's hair and talk for hours about the most random things-"

"So do I with (Y/n)." Aryu chimed in, which caused Chigiri to glare at him instead.

"Shut it. (Y/n) and I have spent so many hours training, we are the closest." Otoya added in, which drew Tokimitsu and Kunigami's attention.

"H-He does the same thing with me! Wh-which means I am pretty close with him, too!" Tokimitsu exclaimed.

"He is always there to help me with his skills, and even trains with me in the gym." Kunigami chimed in, causing a whole separate argument between them.

"This is ridiculous!" Reo sighed loudly, then pointed at himself and Nagi.

"Nagi and u have known (Y/n) for way longer than any of you have. We know everything there is to know about him."

This caused Barou and Isagi to roll their eyes.

"Yeah, and he trust us the most. He would be probably more happy for us to have a figurine than you guys-"

"Nagi, you and Reo literally turned your backs on him back in the beginning of this project. You have no leg to stand on." Isagi interrupted the albino, which made the duo tense up a little.

"And we apologized! He would vouch for us now!" Reo added in.

"None of you really deserve the figurine." Barou finally spoke up.

"(Y/n) and I have been partners since the beginning, we are the closest here. Especially after all the late night trainings." The king explained.

"But, you forget that (Y/n) has been chasing after me the whole time. Even during the 3rd selection, he always asked to train with me." Isagi added in proudly, drawing Rin's attention on him.

"Oh please. (Y/n) is probably too nice to tell you that you got boring. Why would the literal #2 of this facility go and seek out your assistance. I am the perfect choice. We especially got close during the 2nd selection when we would have dinner together after practice." The younger Itoshi explained, obviously mad that Isagi reminded him that (Y/n) always chased after him, never after Rin. The #1 player in Blue Lock.

"This is stupid. (Y/n) and I are obviously closer, our humor and passion to become better obviously bonds us the best." Karasu snorted.

"Karasu, no offense, but it's obvious that (Y/n) and I are closer. After all, he would come to talk to me about fashion choices."

As they argued, Hiori, who was standing next to Niko, spoke up as well.

"Now, I would be worthy of the doll too. After all, (Y/n) and I share similar homes, and we talk for hours about different video games."

"(Y/n) likes talking to me a out different sea animals. Even helps me with my braid sometimes. It's very nice of him." Kurona added in with a slight blush.

"Well, (Y/n) and I share a love for anime and manga. We would sometimes go to the monitor room and watch different animes on our phones. We even fell asleep there a few times." Niko admitted.

"So you are the reason he sometimes isn't in bed?!" Bachira yelled with a menacing smile.

"Niko, do you know how many nights I couldn't cuddle up to him while he slept?!"

"Bachira, that's weird!"

"What even-"

Hiori and Kurona said, staring at the bicolored boy. While everyone wad busy arguing, Gagamaru blinked at them a few times before walking out of the dining hall, an idea already brewing in his brain.

"Hmmm..."

2 weeks had passed, and the day of the merch launch finally happened. All the boys were anxiously waiting on their phones for the orders to start. They were all determined to get one of the figurines. They were so adorable, and captured the beauty of the striker perfectly. And finally, when the minute of the launch arrived, they quickly went to click on the 'order' option, only for them to be met with the most soul crushing sign.

'Sold out!' Read in big, red letters as if to mock the boys about their fail.

They expected something like this to happen, but it hurt the same.

Right now, they were all in the dining hall again, all depressed over losing the opportunity to get the (Y/n) figurine.

"I hate today." Reo said, resting his head on the table.

"I agree." Karasu and a few others nodded their heads as the door opened.

"Huh? Are you guys alright?" (Y/n)'s voice caused them to jump up and look at her.

"F-fine!" Isagi spoke up.

"We are great, just tired. And you? You seem pretty happy?" Karasu spoke up, noticing how less tense she was now.

"Oh? Ego-san just told me that the figurines of me sold out today, and they will do a relaunch in a month."

"Relaunch?! How many will it be this time?" Bachira asked as all eyes were on her.

"I don't know... maybe like 300 to 500, based on what Ego-san said." (Y/n)'s explanation caused them to sigh in relief a little. Finally they will have the chance to own one of those figurines.

"By the way, here, Gagamaru. As promised!" (Y/n) said, walking over to the goalkeeper, putting the prototype of her figurine on the table. The boy nodded quickly and slid his dinner to her as she sat across from him.

"Uhm... why are you giving Gagamaru that figurine?" Chigiri wondered.

"Oh? He promised to give me his dinner for a month in exchange for the figurine. His dinner happens to be my favorite dish!" (Y/n) explained cheerfully and went back to eating. She didn't register to cold looks and deathly glares Gagamaru was getting, but the boy didn't care. He just sat on his chair, smiling fondly at the figurine.

'Bastard!'

'That should have been me!!'

The group thought over and over, now hoping that the relaunch will happen as soon as possible.

[jadededge]

Tear You Apart | Ch.3

Pairing:  GOT7 x OC

Genre: Demon/Mafia AU, Romance, Smut

Rating: M

Summary: Jaebeom and Yugyeom are "running an errand" when the most delectable scent that he ever smelled hit Yugyeom like a ton of bricks. Yugyeom stops JayB and soon he smells it. They look across the street and see the her. They stalk her for awhile and finally get the chance to manufacture a meet with her.

Wattpad | AO3    (will likely always update these 2 places first)  

Navigation: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Despite their busy and immortal lives, the boys try to have dinner together as often as possible. Gathering around the large oak table in their dining room, they share laughs and stories of the day. Relaxing and unwinding as a family.

"So, maknaes," Jaebeom starts. "I hear you had to provide some backup on Canal. How did that go?"

"We went to see Selah. I'm so sorry," Youngjae immediately folds and bows his head, hoping to be spared.

Bam sucks his teeth. "Youngjae, what the fuck man?"

"You did what?" Jaebeom asks calmly. Too calm.

The sound of silverware hitting plates echoed in the now quiet room.

"Aw shit, boys, why did you do that?" Mark asks.

"We only wanted to see her." Yugyeom adds with a pout. "We didn't even talk to her." He says leaning towards Youngjae.

Jinyoung must've caught that because he immediately followed up. "Bam. What about you?"

"Whatever. I talked to her. And I got her number."

All the older brothers sigh. Jaebeom continues to look. His chin starts to protrude.

"Son, why did you do that when we have her number?" Mark asked.

"I'm sorry, were we going to start texting her and tell her we looked up everything about her beforehand?" He laid it out. "I'm playing the boyfriend game." He leans back, looking proud of himself.

Jaebeom was pissed, but he was trying not to show it. He had a plan, and this... He stands, pushing his chair back to leave. "I'm going out."

"Either you've messed up so badly that he needs to go prepare to send you back or..." Jackson pauses. "Actually, I don't know what else he could be doing. Nice knowing you, Bam. I'll see you in 50 years."

Jinyoung chimes in with a disapproving tone, "You do know Jackson went to meet her as well? What will she think? We're meant to be playing this smart, and you've gone and added another complication to the situation. Yeah, Jaebeom should send you back."

"I fucked up, huh?" Bam says, hanging his head.

Mark, though known for his temper, is actually quite gentle with his brothers. Particularly the younger ones, and tries to comfort them. "Did you fuck up? Yes. But it will be okay. JB won't send you back."

"He might strangle you, though." Jackson says he is taking a bite of his food.

Mark gives him a 'stop that' look.

"What? Bammie, I invited Selah to the club. How do we explain to her that out of pure coincidence, she met both of us on the same day and that we know each other? You might have to miss the opening."

Bam lets out a puff of air ready to protest.

"That's actually not a bad idea." Jinyoung says. "You three will not be at the opening."

The younger ones begin to protest. Jinyoung holds his hand up and says, "Save it. This is perfect. Perhaps Jaebeom won't murder you if we can salvage this."

_____________________________________________________________

The weekend arrives, and everybody is a bundle of nerves. After adjusting plans, the boys feel like they're actually in a better place. Feeling that perhaps it would be easier to introduce her to four of them versus all seven.

The maknaes are on warehouse duty for the night, and they couldn't have been more sour about it.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into going with you. Now look at me." Youngjae pouts, looking into the distance.

Bam rolls his eyes and says, "Well, you hardly put up a fight at a gentle suggestion."

Yugyeom chuckles a bit. "You did come along pretty easily. We should just be happy we didn't get banished."

"Valid point. But I want to meet her now." Youngjae says.

Yugy juts his lip out, "Me too."

"Yeah she's great. Glad I talked to her when I did." Bam says proudly.

The other two side eye him.

_____________________________________________________________

Selah arrives at the club accompanied by her friend Brianca. She's feeling good about how she looks. The little black dress she has on is her favorite among the many in her closet. The tiny straps sit upon her glittering shoulders. The bodice fits tight on her chest with a side split that causes the material to lay nicely over her ass. Matched with a flattering pair of heels that elongate her legs and strap around her ankles is giving her a confidence boost. Not to mention, she smelled amazing.

She's hoping to see Jackson. Bam hasn't texted her. Which made her a bit sad, as she was hoping he would. But she figured she would at least have a good time, get her mind off the week, and look good if for nobody but herself

"Girl, this club is nice!" Brianca says to Selah. "And you said he's the owner?"

"That's what he said. So I'm not sure I'll easily bump into him." Selah responds by surveying the area.

"Let's get a drink!" Brianca suggests.

At the bar, Brianca has already been approached by a couple of guys and is chatting one up. She has a very inviting aura, so it's no surprise she's already deep in conversations.

At one point she leans over to Selah, "omg girl. This is that guy I told you about. That I went out with a couple of weeks ago." "The one with the.." Selah wiggles her brows. 

"Yes him." Brianca exclaims trying not to let him hear.

Selah chuckles, "well it looks like you're in for a wild night."

"Here's hoping." Brianca cheers with her friend and turns back to her presumed date for the evening.

As Selah is enjoying her cocktail, she feels a gentle touch on her shoulder that sends shivers throughout her body. Looking to her left, she sees Jackson. Managing her reaction, she doesn't smile too hard. "Jackson, hi."

"Selah, you made it." He's grinning from ear to ear. He takes a second to look her up and down. Without realizing it, he's licking his lips. "You look amazing."

This causes her to blush hard and look away briefly. "Thank you. You look great yourself, and your club is amazing."

"Thank you. I spotted you and wanted to be sure I had a chance to speak while things were going smoothly."

He needed to get her away from her friend and up to the private room. He can tell she cares about her and won't want to leave her alone or unsafe. But it appears luck was on his side.

"Brianca." Selah is turning to get her friend's attention to introduce her to Jackson. "This is Ja-."

But she's being lead to the dance floor by the guy she was chatting with. She looks back and smiles big at her friend. Quickly surveying the guy next to Selah she gives her a 'go get em' look.

"Well I was going to introduce you but nevermind I guess." She laughs.

Jackson sighs internally with relief, "No worries, we can meet later. She looks like a good time."

"Oh she's a blast in a glass. She'll be entertained for hours."

"In that case, would you like me to show you around?" Jackson asks as he holds his hand out for her.

"Sure. I'd like that, we sort of b-lined to the music, so I haven't seen the rest."

He leads her through the crowd and back toward the foyer. The place is actually quite large with a few different areas. One being the bigger bar and dance floor area they just left. Jackson shows her around the bottom floor. Even showing her a few behind the scene places before leading her into a lounge area. It's decorated in gold, with soft lighting and slow music, this makes for a nice area to chat.

"One of my brothers designed this room. He thought it would be a good idea to add an area that was much less chaotic than the traditional club atmosphere." Jackson explained.

"Oh you have a brother?" Selah asks.

"Yes, six actually." He leads her to the bar to order himself a drink. "Would you like anything?"

"Whatever you're having. Unless it's vodka." She makes a disgusting face.

Jackson chuckles and signals to the bartender, "please send over two glasses of Hennessy and ice. Thanks T."

"You got it boss." The bartender responds.

Jackson turns his attention to Selah, "Come, let's have a seat."

Settling in, Jackson takes this time to get a really good look at her. She's perfect. They begin a back and forth conversation that flows with ease. He asks her questions about herself that he already knows the answers to, but he loves hearing her talk, so this isn't a problem.

She asks about his business endeavors and he explains to her how he owns this a few other nightclubs. He mentions the corporation that his family runs, not the illegal things, obviously.

"So you have 6 brothers. That had to be hectic growing up." Selah comments.

"You could say that again. We're not exactly blood brothers, more very close friends, but we're brothers in just about every other way. We sort of came together at different times but we've been together ever since." She's listening intently. Jackson hasn't even used his gifts to any degree and she's already hooked on his every word. "Three of them are here now. I was hoping to introduce you actually. They've been dying to meet you."

"Oh, you've told them about me?" She's shocked, they only met briefly. "And you want me to meet them?"

He smiles and grabs her hand, gently caressing it. "Of course, we tell each other everything. So when I met a gorgeous woman, I told them immediately."

She was a bit hesitant but the moment Jackson touches her, she gets those same shivers. Being near Jackson, she finds herself alot more willing to go along with just about anything he says. Especially when he touches her.

She blushes, "Okay, sure."

He beams at her, "You're going to love them."

"I should text my friend and let her know."

This irritates Jackson. But he hides his displeasure. "Sure, no problem. "

He needs her alone and he didn't want to manipulate her to do it but this is becoming tedious. How do normal people live like this.

"Oh, she actually messaged to say she left with that guy. I must've missed it. I guess i'm all yours." Selah explains.

"Perfect." Jackson stands and extends his hand to help her up.

_____________________________________________________________

Leading her out of the lounge and through the club to the stairs, Selah feels lightheaded. She feels as if she's walking to another world. The decor is also darker upstairs. The walls are a blood red velvet with black damask patterning. The lighting is low and the music from downstairs is faded and becomes more faint the deeper they walk.

"Continuing the tour," Jackson starts. "This top floor has a few private rooms that special guests can use, as well as the offices."

He stops at a door at the end of the hall and on the other side, Selah knows deep down, everything will change once she steps in. Jackson opens the door and gestures for her to enter.

The room is spacious, continuing the same dark motif, but the colors are a darker green and black with gold accents. There's a full-sized bar and and lounge area with a large window across the way for a view of the entire dance floor from above. 

And scattered about the room are three of the finest men Selah has ever seen, apart from Jackson. It nearly takes her breath away. They are dressed in finely tailored suits, like Jackson, and they have this something about them she can't quite put her finger on. Maybe this was a mistake. She thinks.

Jackson places his hand on the small of her back and moves her further into the room, "Selah, these are three of my brothers." He points to one at the bar with a short haircut and a dazzling smile that warms her heart. "This is Mark, the oldest."

"Hello gorgeous, lovely to meet you." He finishes making his drink and comes to settle in a chair next to the couch.

"And this absolute cutie..." pointing to other one with a short haircut. His lips grab her attention and she can't help but stare at them. He chuckles slightly and bites his bottom lip. She had to stop her knees from giving out. Did he do that on purpose. "...is Jinyoung."

He rolls his eyes, "Could you not introduce me that way." He gives her a smile staring directly in her eyes making her melt.

"Why? Is he not adorable Selah?" Jackson turns to ask her. She blushes from being put on the spot. Jackson laughs. "And lastly but certainly not least, this is Jaebeom. He is our leader."

Calling this man gorgeous would be an understatement. With longer hair styled perfectly sitting across his neck. Selah couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to run her fingers through it. She's cursing herself for how hard she is crushing on her crush's brothers.

He nods her direction. "Nice to meet you Selah, you can call me Jay B."

Her head swims. "Nice to meet you all"

"Come let's sit." Jackson moves them to a loveseat next to Jaebeom and across from Mark. Jinyoung has his eyes trained on her.

All four of them are drawing her in, with their confidence and captivating aura. But just beyond that is something tugging at her, whispering danger. She's watching herself wade further into the waters. What is happening...

Tags: @openup-yourmind

[night-fall-moon]

Chapter 1: Remit to see, limit to see—Remind

previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

"Mornin boys, I'll be your escort today." Reina saluted them as they walked out the front door.

She wore a white button up blouse, leaving the first few unbuttoned to show off a good chunk of her cleavage. A coffee colored skirt that hugged her thighs, and her signature 3'' heels. She decided to forego the white coat with something more fashionable—a long beige coat that covered most of her from head to toe. Her hair tied up in a high ponytail.

Shirazu greeted her with a big smile and started to chat with her, but Urie on the other hand wasn't amused. In fact he was annoyed, but at least she was better than their other useless mentor—Haise Sasaki.

He rolled his eyes and walked away from both of them.

"Sorry to interrupt, 'razu, but Urie's leaving without us." She motioned with her thumb that he was at least a good foot away from them.

Quickly apologizing, the blonde boy scurried to catch up to the other boy and whined about how heartless he was for leaving without them. The purple haired boy remained quiet and didn't say a word and instead just kept walking.

Walking behind them she admired the scene in front of her, reminding her of the good times she had with her older sister before they started drifting apart. A small smile was etched on her face.

As they arrived at the warehouse the trio was met with an investigator.

"Aki—I mean Investigator Mado! I came to escort the boys to get their back up quinques." She bowed.

"Investigator Nakou, good to see that you're cleaning up your act. Good to see you too, investigators Urie and Shirazu." She nodded their way.

"Hey, I don't like what you're implying, Mado!" The lilac haired woman argued but sighed in defeat knowing it was true.

During the past few days she's been stepping up and acting more like a mentor than before. But she had yet to drop the facade she'd put up since she entered the CCG as mentioned after Akira spoke to her directly—though she had reason as to why she wanted to sell herself as the dumb-good-for-nothing-bimbo.

"Any progress with the case?" Mado ignored the whining woman and proceeded to converse with the two boys.

Shirazu beamed at the acknowledgement meanwhile Urie just answered her question—annoyed by all the small talk getting in the way of what they were originally came here for.

"A plain Tsunagi." Akira motioned as they were handed their quinque.

"That's so boring." Reina nagged.

"They're backups, and they're still as good as your own quinque."

"You mean Widow? My baby glides through everything so smoothly, I doubt these can be as good as Widow. Can't wait till you both get your own!" She turned to the boys and patted them on their shoulders.

"You two, don't neglect your quinques just because you can use a kagune. The quinque is an anti-ghoul weapon developed by former general chairman Yoshiu Washu—the father of General Chairman Tsuneyoshi Washu, in partnership with the German Bureau Chief Adam Gehenna." Akira went on,

"The CCG engaged ghouls with firearms back then but were ineffective against a ghouls' kagune. Research into an alternative weapon gave birth to the idea of using their own kagune against them—manufactured weapons based on a kagune. Quinques.”

Reina shifted from side to side seemingly uninterested with the topic at hand. She ended up zoning out in between the woman's history lesson on how they came to be.

"A soldier with a built-in quinque, if you will. That is what you Quinxes are. But, even with that ability—you are not ghouls. There are limits to a Quinx's ability." Akira turned to face them all,

"You've never seen Sasaki fight at his best, have you?" She asked.

Both males shook their heads at the higher up, meanwhile Reina just smirked at her question.

"No. But he uses a quinque very skillfully. There's much I can learn from him." Urie reluctantly complimented his useless mentor.

"Well if you both want to know, he's an interesting fighter. He uses techniques he's learned from the CCG until-"

"I think that's enough of that." Akria gave her a pointed look, meaning she's crossing a line that shouldn't be crossed.

"I didn't say anything." Reina giggled and surrendered.

The boys just looked confused as to what was going on between both their mentors. Urie though understood that Reina held a lot more information than she led on. Just how much did she know about Haise Sasaki?

Turning back to the boys, Akira told them to always use their quinques and bid them goodbye.

"Let's get going. I know you both want to go find Torso—and I know you both have a lead on him." She crossed her arms across her chest.

Her face was uninterested as she told them. Immediately Shirazu tried to deny her claim, but quickly came to find out that he was a horrible liar. She could clearly see through him and it didn't help that Urie's usual poker face was falling apart. Veins littering his forehead indicating he was upset at being caught. How foolish could he be thinking that he could get away with such information.

"So you mind telling me your lead or should I tell Haise about this little scheme you have?"

"I think you might wanna speed up if we wanna catch up with them!" Reina yelled, gripping on to Urie's waist so as to not fall off Shirazu's motorcycle.

The three of them piled onto the vehicle, while both boys wore protective gear in case of an accident, Reina wore none at all seeing as she was not involved in the original plan to capture and eradicate Torso. Urie inevitably squished between the blonde boy and lilac haired girl.

"Karao Saeki!" Shirazu yelled.

Behind him Urie urged the same message realizing that they had no chance unless they did so. The blonde concerned about breaking the law hesitated to do so until both of them yelled at him to hurry up. The cab in front of them waved side to side in an attempt to avoid oncoming traffic.

Quickly Urie realized they could have an advantage if a certain person had the capability to do so.

"Take out the tires with your kagune!"

"Are you serious?!"

Looking behind him he saw that the purple haired boy was serious about his idea. Groaning at the plan he did so but warned him that if he missed they weren't to blame him

Swiftly pushing on the gas pedal the blonde released his ukaku. It branched out, spikes formed threatening to detach themselves from their place. Attempting his best at aiming at the cab he released three missiles continuously all imploding as they missed the cab.

Groaning at his incompetence, Urie jabbed at his horrible aim, but Shirazu just threatened to knock him off the bike.

"Could you both shut up and concentrate on the task at hand?!" The forgotten girl scolded the arguing duo.

At this point they were noticed by the cops and were told to pull over. Taking this as an opportunity to alert the cops of the upcoming danger Reina looked behind her and motioned her hand in an upward direction. As if getting the memo immediately the cop car sacrificed itself and pulled up by the cab attempting to tell them to pull over .

But in doing so—Torso—ripped their faces off with his kagune and flung them through the window to dispose of them. With no driver to maneuver the vehicle around it slammed into the wall of the tunnel they drove into. Just as Torso thought he had escaped law enforcement officials, the end of the tunnel was blocked off with a few barricades and cop cars surrounding them.

The cab came to a stop and the drivers door opened revealing a thin, half-naked man with his shirt wrapped around his face in an attempt to keep his identity anonymous. Hopping off the bike they all assumed a stance, not even a few seconds later Torso released his kagune and struck at the trio.

Unsurprised they dodged his attack and moved aside letting the expensive bike take the hit. Regaining his composure quickly, Shirazu released his ukaku and launched his projectiles towards the "masked" man. Shocked, the man was glued to the ground which left him to be the perfect target for the Quinxes onslaught.

They made quick work of him until a new obstacle made themself known to the trio. A masked person in a coat walked out of the shadows, their kagune ready to strike at anyone that gets in their way.

"I'm sorry but that scrawny half-naked guy is ours. You guys are Quinxes right? You use a kagune, right? You Doves make me downright sick. You're no different from Aogiri." The clearly distorted voice echoed throughout their ears.

A sense of familiarity struck the girl. That bikaku, that tone of voice—she swore she heard it from somewhere.

"And now that you've made me sick... I wanna have some." He snapped his head up eyes piercing through the mask,

"Nish-" Reina was interrupted with a strike thrown her way. She backed up and instinctively hid behind the abandoned cars.

Decidedly done with her he switched opponents, Torso long gone from the battlefield. Rate: S Orochi was now the main target. He dashed past the girl and swung his leg into Urie's gut—sending him flying into the wall of the ditch. The boy coughed up blood from the sheer force of the kick to his abdomen.

"Sorry, but I don't hold back against Doves. You'll get in my way one of these days. Better to nip you guys in the bud when I can." He sneered as he neared the bloodied up boy. Behind him Shirazu snuck up behind him and released a few missiles his way thinking they'd absolutely obliterate the masked man.

"What was that? A pea-shooter?" He mocked the blonde boy as he simply dodged them.

Both boys quickly got fed up with all his taunting. Wanting to get this over with, they came at him with all they've got. They swung their kagune and attempted to strike him, but all that came was more frustration. They jumped and leapt from place to place destroying more and more of their surroundings.

He kicked Urie down to the ground, his kokaku shattered and destroyed. He sat down on top of the destroyed cars and looked down at the furious boy, mocking him.

"That's it? For a kokaku? All it took was a kick? Guess it's an imitation after all." He chuckled.

The sound of footsteps could be heard growing louder and louder as they neared—Shirazu. He quickly took a stance and swiped at him releasing his missiles a dust cloud quickly forming not allowing them to see the extent of how much damage the blondes kagune actually did to the ghoul.

Once it cleared away he was left unscathed. Realizing they didn't have a chance to exterminate the Rate: S Ghoul Shirazu opted to retreat until backup came, not wanting to risk his life for something he knew they couldn't handle yet. Angry at his words Urie didn't relent, but instead tried to push forward. His method of keeping alive—self cannibalism.

He dug his teeth into the flesh of his forearm, the sound of squelching and the aroma of blood overwhelmed his senses. Reina looked his way, the smell of blood enticing her to take a bite of him. She shook her head and walked towards them.

"Hey four eyes! Seeing as they're useless, how about we have a match of our own?" She yelled out, a smirk creeping up her lips.

The ghoul turned around and looked at her,

"What's a bimbo like you doing in the CCG?"

"Still judging others based on their looks, Nishi? How about I remind you how strong me and my sister were when we kicked your ass."

She released her rinkaku, purple like tentacles reached out in front of her and in the blink of an eye they cleanly cut his hand off. She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Shit, I'm getting rusty. I meant to go for your whole arm. Luckily I got the other one though." She mumbled as she waved it around in her hand.

Her squad looked at her in awe and fear, the sheer speed and talent to distract someone was a talent to have at this point. They looked back at his figure and noticed that he was regenerating at a quick pace. His thick bikaku swayed back and forth before it readied to strike her until a quinque split it in half. She dissolved her kagune and watched the back up she called come to their aid.

"Sasan!!"

"Sir!"

"Who the hell are you? The king of the imitators?"

"Mutsuki, contact Investigator Mado.”

The man didn't respond to his taunting voice and instead went to attack the ghoul without a second thought. He uttered a word in between every attack and dedicated each attack with his heart—thinking about his squad with each swing of his sword. The Rate S ghoul eventually caught up to his attacks and gave him a taste of what he was like.

The ghoul muscled him in the gut like when he did so with Urie a few moments ago. Haise doubled over and screamed in pain, his quinque out of reach, probably somewhere behind him. He stayed there for a while until he rose to his feet, raising his right hand—he cracked his pointer finger, the same crack released his kagune.

In an instant Haise's demeanor changed. No longer was he the looked down upon investigator, but rather a strong, intimidating man. Just as the ghoul tried to attack Haise, he moved out the way like this wasn't the first time he engaged in a fight with a high rated ghoul. This was the first time the squad saw their mentor use his kagune at all.

He skillfully jumped and leapt away whilst keeping up with his attacks against the masked ghoul. Within a few seconds Haise had shattered the ghoul's kagune, and though it regenerated almost instantly, it was still a major feat for them.

"You're— tough." Haise gritted through his teeth just as Orochi approached him face to face,

"Well, thank you." He kicked Haise in the gut just like before, but this time Haise regained his composure in an instant and his kagune reached out to grab his quinque and it settled in the palm of his hands.

The squad noticed that he was depleting in stamina, his dodging time slowing down to the point where he was dodging the attacks just in the nick of time. When Orochi struck him again he fell to the floor, immediately coming to his aid the squad reached out for him but he put his arm out.

"Stay back-"

"We can still fight!"

"We're not just gonna stand here and watch-" they protested, but all Haise did was look back and grin at them.

"That's an order. Reina, help me would ya?" He motioned.

Grinning from ear to ear she slid her coat off her back and let it fall to the floor. She released her kagune, long, thick, deep purple tentacles following behind her as Haise stretched before going back to attack the Rate S ghoul.

"You definitely intrigue me more than those punks." The masked ghoul hummed.

Haise chuckled, "I'm not sure if I should be honored. But I don't think you want to get to know... me." He cracked his knuckle and attacked him without a warning.

Haise showed no mercy, his actions were a lot more fluid and natural, his instincts told him what was right and what was wrong. When Orochi leapt away from Haise's attack, Reina formed her kagune into thin, razor sharp arms and pinned him into place... like a spider with their prey. They pierced through his skin, his shoulders and hips; the areas bled profusely.

This gave Haise the perfect opportunity to pierce Orochi's abdomen like before. Haise didn't have any reaction, he just looked concentrated as his hand contorted as if it was the one controlling his every move. That was until his second tentacle pierced through another part of his torso. Haise began grinning from ear to ear as he continued his onslaught of torturing the ghoul. Painful groans along with squelching noises could be heard from the pinned body.

"Just returning the favor.." he smiled manically, clearly enjoying this little show of theirs.

Removing his kagune from the ghoul's abdomen Reina shoved and grated the masked ghoul into the wall of the tunnel. When she let go he dropped to the floor like a rag doll incapable of moving himself around.

Pushing themselves off their kagune they reached the now unmasked ghoul. The girl picked up the mask and hid it behind her, meanwhile the boy straddled him and looked like he was going to give him the easy way out.

"'I'm dying I'm dying...' is that how it goes?" He coughed out as he laid on the street

The duo paid no attention to his words.

"Oh buddy, guess you still haven't found salvation, huh... Kaneki." He revealed his face from underneath the hood he had on.

That familiar face... orange hair..

"...nishio..?" Haise slipped out.

Haise lost his mind. Memories distorted, blank faces haunting him, mouths moving but no sound coming from them. The only sound he could hear was his name ringing in his mind... Kaneki.

"Guess playtime's over Nishio, take care." She said as she tossed him his mask.

Walking over to Haise she hugged him, her kagune shattering his. She held him as he thrashed around her hold, her grip never letting loose. His nails dug into her skin drawing blood from the scratches, his screams and wails echoed throughout everyone's ears. The pain he inflicted onto her was nothing compared to his.

Memories of her hugging her restrained sister filled her head. She called out her fathers name, her name, she seeked comfort from those she trusted. Haise in return had no one to tell him to cry it out, to let him feel. No one but himself, and not having anyone to remember them by was a greater pain none of them would ever understand.

She took his hits, his scratches, until they ceased into small cries. The RC bullet put him to rest for a while. They both collapsed onto the floor as he muttered his name, Haise Sasaki, over and over again. Looking down at him, Reina brushed his hair aside in a comforting manner hoping he'd find comfort in it as it was the only thing she could do at the moment with all eyes on them.

Although he still clawed at her, the pain was much more manageable. She ran thimble fingers throughout his full head of hair and nodded at his words. "You're you," she caressed his face with her free hand, wiping his free flowing tears. She noticed her subordinates looking at them... fear... jealousy... and awe was clear on their faces. She felt his hand grasp her wrist, she looked down. He looked into her eyes and was about to speak up—almost expecting his words she reassured him,

"You didn't kill anyone, don't worry. We're all safe. Get some rest now, Haise."

And with those words of reassurance he closed his weary eyes. A deep slumber falling upon him. Sighing in relief Reina picked the man up with ease and carried him into one of the cars their back up came with. Closing the car door she went to pick up her discarded coat on the floor and threw it over herself.

"We're riding elsewhere, I'm driving."

"Will Sasan be okay?" They mumbled out.

"Of course he will. He always bounces back." She smiled back at them before she entered the escorted car.

wc: 3.3k previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

a/n: god i hate myself for cross posting this on so many platforms because of formatting. Next chapter will be the last one for the month. March i will post the next three chapters!

ps. i don’t care if you’re a minor or not, I know y’all are still gonna read. I’m not your guardian, that’s up to them. I’m not responsible for anything.

Tag list:

[deans-baby-momma]

A/N: Just a little something I came up with on the LOOOOOONG trip home from vacation. Inspired by a song we listened to. Anyone wanna guess? LOL

Lightning flashes across  the sky illuminates the otherwise dark highway, thunder tumbles in the distance indicating another springtime storm approaching. 

The headlights of my car barely penetrate the sheets of rain to reflect the lines of the deserted highway. Rural roads are not known for their stellar lighting, no streetlights and not many homes that have bright bulbs to shine out that far. 

I can barely see five feet in front of me as I maneuver the rental car I’m using between the lines. I am ready to get to the next town, find a hotel and take a good hot shower before falling into bed. Today has been tedious and tiresome. 

Another flash of light from the sky bounces off something on the side of the road and I slowly apply the brakes. As I get nearer, I can make out the silhouette of another vehicle on the side of the road. Dark, maybe black; sleek but big. Not a truck but an older car, one that is made from actual metal and chrome and not the fiberglass and plastic the newer ones are manufactured with now. 

I look out the passenger window as I pass to see if the driver is inside or if someone is standing nearby but I see no one. Hopefully some other good samaritan came by and picked them up and they aren’t walking in this torrential downpour from the sky. I don’t know anyone who would enjoy walking in this crap. 

A couple of miles down the road, though, I see someone walking along the edge of the asphalt, hands in their pockets and their shoulders slumped over trying to shield the rain. I can tell it hasn’t worked as the whole top half of their body is soaked through, their clothing clinging to them like a second skin. He has no umbrella or coat, like he wasn’t expecting to have to walk in this mess

As I get closer, I can tell it’s a man. Tall, muscular and bow-legged. His cowboy swagger gives away his condition and makes me swoon. Cowboys are my weakness. When he notices me, he turns his head and I swear my heart stopped. Not only was he built like a God but he looked like one too!

I pull up alongside, rolling down my window and offer him a ride. His response is a smile as he reaches for the door. As soon as he is out of the elements and the cabin is once again a reprieve from the outside, I press the gas and continue my journey.

“Thanks again,” he says and his voice is smooth like honey. “I didn’t think I’d ever see another vehicle.”

“Yea, not many people out at the time of night,” I responded. “Especially in this storm.”

We ride along in silence for a while until we start seeing the telltale signs of the next town. I sigh in relief, thinking of how I’m that much closer to that hot shower and nice, warm bed that awaits. 

“Is there anywhere you want me to drop you off?” I ask, silently lamenting that my time with the stranger is coming to an end.

“I guess just point me to the closest motel. I was just passing through and I doubt there is a mechanic shop open this late to go get my car.”

I pull into the Motel 6 and put it in park. “Well, I’m staying here. I’m just passing through too.”

“Thanks for the lift,” he says as he opens the door and steps out, heading to the lobby.

Grabbing my bag from the backseat, I climb out of the vehicle and close the door, locking it and walking toward the lobby myself, to check in. As I step inside the building, I hear the concierge telling the stranger that there are no vacancies. 

“You gotta be kidding me!” he huffs as I see rain drops drip from his hair and slither down his neck into the back of his shirt. “There’s nothing? Not even a sofa in an empty corner?”

“No sir,” the young boy says. “We are booked solid.”

“You can stay in mine,” I say as I approach the desk. “I have a room and most of these places have at least a cot.”

The stranger and the boy behind the desk look at me bewildered. Yes, I just offered a stranger a place to stay so he doesn’t have to sleep outside in the rain. This is the same stranger I picked up on the side of the road not even an hour ago. So what? I’m a nice person. 

I step up to the desk and check in, grabbing my key and turning to the man standing behind me. “We’re in room 23. Come on,” I smile as I walk out of the lobby, my suitcase rolling along after.

The storm rages outside the window as we settle in for the night. As I predicted, the room provided a full size bed and a couch with a pullout mattress. After my shower, I snuggle down under the comforter on the bed and listen to his teeth chatter.

“Get over here and get in the bed,” I tell him, sitting up to see his silhouette shivering under the thin sheet. “I didn’t pick you up just to let you freeze to death in my hotel room.”

The man stood up as a flash of lightning lit up the room. He was in nothing but a pair of boxers and I salivate at the sight. He is pure brawn, muscles sinewy and taut; his stomach has a small paunch but other than that, he looks like he could take care of himself in any situation. 

His skin is ice cold as he slides into the bed alongside me, causing goosebumps to erupt on my skin. Or is it the fact that I’m absolutely turned on by him?

We lay on our backs, both of us staring at the ugly yellowed ceiling above our heads.  I close my eyes and will myself to sleep but before I can accomplish that, I feel his hand begin to run along my thigh.

Before long, we are in the throes of passion, his body thrusting into mine with ease. He was doing everything just right and had me cumming in minutes. I screamed out my release as I heard him grunt and then felt his spendings filling me full.

After cleaning up, we cuddled and drifted off to sleep. I’d never felt more like a woman than I did in this stranger’s arms. It was magical, 

The sun shining through the window woke me up and I lay there, still in his arms as I lamented what had actually happened. I had picked up a stranger on the side of the road, brought him into my hotel room, where we made love and I hadn’t even asked his name!

The man who rocked my world was still asleep when I was dressed and ready to leave. I grabbed the complimentary pen and pad and left him a note. It’s the least I could do.

‘I am the flower you are the seed. We walked in the garden, we planted a tree

Don't try to find me, please don't you dare.

Just live in my memory. you'll always be there.’

To be continued…..

2nd A/N: Hopefully the last part will be posted this weekend (6/16-18)

@spnbaby-67 @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam  @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @supraveng @deandreamernp @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @deanwithscissors @raisinggray @fanfic-n-tabulous @hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @brownbearhusky @purpleeclipseeggsland

[wordynerdygurl]

Someone to Watch Over Me

Part 3: “He’s the One Affair I Cannot Forget”

Author’s Note:  Oh my lovelies!  Truth time- I almost didn’t post this... I reworked it and reworked it and walked away from it before remembering that I had come too far to turn back now.  So, with my humble thanks to @sweetsweetjellybean​ and @sammy-jo1977​ you now have Part 3!

My taglist is open and reblogs are encouraged!!

It’s filled to the brim, so enjoy!

If you need to catch up:  Part 1 - Love is Blind & Part 2 - Seek & You Will Find are here! Pairing:  Eddie Munson x Plus Sized OC Amanda Patterson Summary:  It’s love at first sound, pitch perfect and fated, everything in harmony.  If only life were a love song. Eddie and Amanda make their union physical, back in 1987.  What does 1990 have in store? Warnings:  There is SMUT ahead (minors DNI), first time with a new partner, and mentions of birth control.  Self depricating thoughts are discussed, some fat phobic ideas are expressed and there’s a passing mention of canon quality Chrissy’s passing.  Also, smoking, drinking and swearing. Happy Reading!

1990

“Well, I think we’ve got everything we need.  Thank you guys for your time.”  Chuck grinned slickly, offering a tepid handshake to all the guys in the group, “The tech team will edit the package together and get it over to your manager for final approval, but yea, this should be on the air in a week or two.  Exciting, right?”

The manufactured for the masses interviewer was looking directly at Eddie as he asked, clearly in need of approval or something less like open disdain from the front man and lead guitarist,  “Uh, yea.  Like, super exciting.  So, thank you?”  Gareth sniggered at his back.  It was becoming way too obvious that Eddie couldn't keep the charade up much longer.  Not when his head was like this- lost in the past but forced to work in the present.  But then salvation arrived at his side.  Maggie, savior, protector, liberator, bumped his shoulder and interrupted with a grave whisper, “Mr. Munson, I’m afraid it’s time.” Vague enough to sound serious, Eddie nodded his head solemnly, “Oh, yea, right.  Well, thanks again Chuck, but, alas, duty calls.”

“No, thank you Eddie-” He didn’t answer the host, having already turned away, hip to hip with Maggie, heads bowed together like naughty kids.  Waiting until they were out of earshot, she sighed deeply, “Ya know, that could've gone better, Emmy.” Eddie snorted at the nickname, his brown eyes rolling, “That guy sucked, Mags.  Forget being a tool, Chuck was an entire tool box.  A goddamned Harbor Freight of bullshit.” Sighing deeply, the sturdy woman fell in step beside him, “So fucking what?  MTV’s gonna be running that shit for days, weeks even.  The least you could do is be, I don’t know, polite?” He barreled through a swinging door back first, Maggie dogging his steps, as he sassed, “I was polite, Magdelena.  I answered his questions.  What else do you want from me?” Eddie nodded at one of the road guys as they passed, the lull in this particular conversation more than welcome.  But of the many reasons he loved Maggie so much, this right here was the kicker; her determination.  That it was also the worst thing about being her friend was one of those unsolved mysteries of life since this dominant personality trait meant that their little moving conversation wasn’t over.  Not by a long shot. Turning down a narrow hall, they pushed into the green room together as she shrugged, “Maybe a little less attitude.  Maybe a little more gratitude.” “Are you a greeting card now, Mags?”  Eddie had flopped onto a sagging gray monstrosity of a couch, his legs kicked up over the arm, his back flat against the indeterminately stained cushion.    Maggie wasn’t looking in his direction.  Instead she was peeking around the corner, checking the exit and generally ensuring that no immediate risks to Eddie’s safety could be seen.  When she was satisfied that a crazy fan was not about to jump out of his closet, she planted her feet and crossed her arms, staring down at Eddie with an affectionate scowl, “No, but I do like my paycheck, so I need you to stay employed.” “Ha!  Honey, the lead singer of Corroded Coffin ain’t goin’ nowhere!” She pulled a plastic backed chair closer, eyeing him from the shadow of her ever present hat’s bill, “Well, that’s not entirely true, now is it?” His eyebrow raised again, curiosity clear on Eddie’s face, “You know something I don’t?” “Aren’t we going back to Indiana?  That Battle of the Bands thing after New Year’s?”  Settling back against the flimsy seat, her legs opened wide, Maggie ran her hands over her thighs, the rolled sleeve of her shirt showcasing her own inky designs.  The caged bird on her forearm always drew Eddie’s attention and even now he caught himself staring at the intricate ink instead of answering his friend and protector’s question.  “Fuck.  I had almost forgotten.” “Bullshit.”  Squinting at him, the same look she gave to overeager fans who lined up alongside the tour bus, the one that made them piss their pants in fright, the one he cherished, Maggie now used on Eddie to get at the truth. Feigning affront, he sat up on his elbows, hair long enough now to get caught underneath his shoulder and pulling, “Excuse me?” “Bullshit you forgot.  You’re going to judge the Battle of the Bands in your home state and you fucking forgot?  Nope.  No way.  And what’s with the song you brought up?  Someone to Watch Over Me?  A little, I don’t know, soft for you, ain’t it?” The blush of honesty scorched through him so fast, Eddie flopped back to the sofa with a soft whoosh sending a swirl of dust out of the ancient furniture.  How many sweaty asses have sat here, he wondered quickly.  A hundred?  More?  Gross. But then Mags cleared her throat, unimpressed by his delay tactics.  It chafed her charge and since Eddie was already feeling some kind of way, more defensive than he meant to be, he huffed, “Yea?  So?  It’s- it’s a great song.”  There were not a lot of secrets between Edward Munson and Magdelena Rios but Mandy?  Yea, that was definitely, absolutely a secret he kept close.  So, of course his bodyguard slash bulldog wouldn’t know about his affinity for Gershwin songs when they were sung into a perfect Indiana sunset.  And she wouldn’t know about the ache in his chest whenever he looked up at the sky and found the silent, silver full moon staring back down him.  Judging him.  Reminding him of regrets that ran deep- goblin green and moss covered, growing mushrooms in the dark.  Clever and always on alert, Maggie saw something cross his face because she nodded and then tipped her chair onto two legs, “Uh huh.  Right.”  “What are you trying to say, my darling Magdelena?”  Swinging his big black boots forward, Eddie pushed up so he was sitting almost normally.  He let his clasped hands hang between his knees as he lifted baleful brown eyes to Maggie’s steely ones. “I’m trying to say that you’re not using your head.”  Her chair clanged as she lowered it too fast making Eddie flinch, “I am saying, flat out, that you got so pissy with Chuck the Tool Box because you were a little too honest today, even if I don’t get why.  I guess-” she leaned forward now, encroaching on the rockstar’s space with a soul deep exhale, “-I’m saying I’m worried about you, my friend.” Twisting his lips into a devilish smirk, Eddie reached over and flicked at the brim of her hat, “Honey, sweetie, darling, Maggie… you got nothing to worry about.  I’m fine.”

They both knew he was lying.

It was during their condensed pre-show warm up that Eddie realized he was in trouble.  Naturally, his fingers felt along the frets of his acoustic Gibson, a melody in calloused pads playing without a lot of thought.  Behind him the other members of Corroded Coffin fooled around, checking levels and making weird noises into the mics, generally acting like the assholes he knew and loved.  Normally he’d be the one leading the rabble, causing trouble and wreaking havoc for the venue staff but there was a riff stuck in his brain.

“Earth to Eddie!  Helllooooo?  Anybody home?”

Without looking up, he rumbled, “Fuck off Jeff, I’m working here.” “Hear that fellas?  Eddie’s working while we’re just lazing around.” Yea, this was definitely a song, he could feel it vibrating in his bones.  Excited now, he flashed wide eyes at the boys in the band, “Pen!  Paper!” The dumb fuckers looked at each other with varying degrees of confusion on their faces.  Gareth, the bravest, ventured, “Uh, wh- what man?” “Something to write with- On!  I gotta get it outta me, Gare!” There was a manic energy filling the spaces between microphone stands and amplifiers that made Eddie itchy under the skin.  When the muse came she would not be denied and holy shit but she was coming hard right now.  He knew the grateful smile he flashed at the poor roadie responsible for dropping off a mechanical pencil and three white paper plates must have been terrifying to see, but giving birth was a messy process no matter what form the new life took. Pencil clamped between his teeth like one of his cherished cigarettes, Eddie moved his hands down the neck of the guitar and back up, picking a string or two along the way.  Using a cab for a table, he scribbled, paused to hum, then broadly grinned.  It was over in a matter of minutes. “Here.  New tune.”  Breathing harder than a marathon runner, he shoved the scalloped edged plates covered in gray looping letters at his friends and bandmates. Jumping off a riser, Gareth looked over his oldest friend’s work and nodded slowly, “Uh, ok, Eddie.  What do you want us to, uh, ya know, do with this?” “Play it?  I mean, we are a band, right?  And we make music, don’t we?” “It’s gibberish, man.” “Fuck you!  It’s good.  Great even.  I know it.” Waving Eddie closer, Gareth handed off the hastily scribed song to Jeff, before wrapping an arm around their front man, “Eddie.  My friend.  My musical partner in crime.  I ask with all due respect-” they had been walking towards the wings of the stage, Eddie following where he was led, “- But what the fuck is going on with you today?” Pulling back hard, Eddie’s hair swung at the force of his movement, “What’s wrong with me?  What’s wrong with you, man?  I come to you with a- a new tune and you- you call me out like this?” Revved up and idling, Eddie was a race car in the red.  Gareth recognized all the signs despite it being a long while since this particular engine had been torqued so high.  With hands raised in surrender, the curly blond conceded, “Hey, no one is calling you out man.  I’m telling you that it’s, I don’t know, weird?” “Weird?  What the hell, man.  Just say what you want to say and let me get back to the music for fuck’s sake.”  “Ok.  Ok.”  Eddie had to watch as his buddy rolled his shoulders back before taking a big breath in, “You were an asshole to the MTV guy, which, I get it man.  Guy’s a dick but this is a big deal, Eddie.  I know you know that, deep down, but you’re not acting like you do.”  Dropping his voice lower, Gareth added, “And you talked about- well, her.” The extra emphasis wasn’t needed.  All it did was needle under the thin skin that Eddie was sporting today, a suit that didn’t fit quite right, and he didn’t know why.  But here was friend number two mentioning erratic behavior and well, that sucked to hear. Deflating visibly, his security hair strand pulled over his face, Eddie countered weakly, “I didn’t say her name.” “You didn’t have to, pal" and having the decency to look embarrassed, he added, “You called your new hit ‘Watching the Moon’.” Huffing out a strained laugh, Eddie met his friend’s kind gaze with a grimace, “Not very subtle, huh?” “Naw, not really" was the half chuckled reply. Stretching his neck out, chin to the auditorium’s ceiling, an unhinged note in his voice, Eddie felt obligated to apologize, “I’m sorry, Gare.  Don’t know why but I’m spinning out a bit.” Really ribbing him now, Gareth bumped into his buddy’s side, “You don’t know why?  Gee, let’s see, you have huge rock show tonight, had an interview with MTV today, you’re writing music, touring, and being away from home, from Wayne, from people you lov-” the face Eddie flashed was all the warning he was going to give his oldest friend, and Gareth adjusted accordingly, “-care about sucks.  It’s- it’s a lot, man and you’re allowed to be overwhelmed.  But you’re not allowed to blow it all up because you’re missing your ex.” There it was.  Too honest to be denied, Eddie was caught.  Trapped like a bird in a cage and held hostage by the golden bars of memory. He had moved it past it, past her.  Truly!  There had been groupies in spandex skirts with hair teased higher than Mount Rushmore who took care of Eddie Munson with a reverence he did not deserve.  An actress with a chest so big it frightened him, really.  Plus a model who had the exact opposite problem- all skin and bones with no meat to feast on.  Not his flavor by any stretch of the imagination. So, Eddie had skimmed the oil slicked surface of available tail and was happy for the opportunity.  Appreciated every lovely lady and that one very handsome fella who made him feel worthy again.  Each new conquest a fresh layer of sediment, burying the idea of Amanda further and further down in the rock formation of his heart.

It worked.  Eddie had been every inch the wild child rock singer of his high school daydreams, until the Battle of the Bands was brought up.

The label had it all planned out- two shows in Indianapolis a Thursday night and then again on Saturday.  In between, Corroded Coffin's lead singer would help choose the 1991 Battle Champion, awarding a cash prize and the chance to open the second date's concert.  It was a huge opportunity for some local metal group, a chance Eddie would have loved to take advantage of only a few short years ago, and he was looking forward to it.  Except-

Hidden in the haystack of going back to Indiana was the needle named Amanda Patterson.  The odds of finding that needle at a Corroded Coffin show considering how things ended between them was minimal at best, but it wasn’t zero.  It was that one in a million chance which buzzed boldly between Eddie’s ears, making him think about moonlit nights and vanilla milkshakes and promises whispered under overworn sheets. The tune he’d quickly crafted came back to him now, ‘Watching the Moon’, and of course it was about her.  Them.  All the things he didn’t say and all the things she wouldn’t allow him to. It was absolutely a hit, even though it hadn't been played once and wasn’t recorded yet.  It was a hit because it came from that same well inside of Eddie where love and passion and music all swam together.  A tall tower still ruled by Mandy, despite years and tears and stand-in people.  

He was going to make this song a number one, getting it played on every single radio station from here to Toronto, knowing that if Gareth could see through the title that his Moon Goddess would too.  Maybe, then, his needle would find him.  Maybe going back to Indiana wasn’t the worst idea his management team had cobbled together.  Maybe it was all going to be ok.

Eddie Munson had a plan.  A campaign to make things right.  A strategy that was coming together almost as quickly as his song for Amanda.

Feeling lighter than he had all day, he clapped Gareth on the back and, yea, there might have been a bit too much force in his playful shove but he didn’t regret it.  Gare could take it, it was why they were so close.  So he spouted at his best friend, “You’re just jealous because I have an ex.  There’s no one missing you but the blow up doll you keep in your bunk.” “Jesus!  Shut up, Eddie!”

Craziness crowded into the overly expressive eyes of Eddie Munson as he darted back towards the other guys in the band, “Hey, did Gareth ever tell you about his Lady Latex?” —

1987

They made it to the front door, finally, after agreeing to a truce.  No more touching.  No teasing.  Not until they were inside someplace that wasn’t on four wheels. Now though, they were stopped in front of said door, nervous giggles bubbling free like champagne uncorked.  Cheeks hot from kissing too closely in the heated shelter of Eddie’s van before braving the nighttime’s frosty temperatures, their breaths mixed, making wispy clouds with every panted exhale.  Try as she might, Amanda couldn’t keep the excited tremble from her hands as she struggled to fit the key into her lock. It certainly didn’t help that the overly eager rocker couldn’t seem to keep his lips or his hands or even his hips to himself, “Truce schmuce” was all he said before enveloping her in his embrace.  And he was everywhere- each time the notches of her house key caught the lock, he would nibble on the fleshiest part of her earlobe making her shudder, deadbolt be damned.  

He was distracting in the best and most frustrating way.  Because really, all she wanted to do was get inside where she could return his touch.  Tease him back.  Taste him.  And go on to do all of the other tantalizing things they had been thinking about since their first blissful kiss over vanilla milkshakes. Another miss as the lock continued to do its job in spite of her efforts and she pouted, unable to keep the needy whine out of her voice, “Eddie!  Come on!”  “What?  What’d I do?”  Oh, he feigned innocence, but he knew.  Eddie knew that every sloppy press of his lips to her delicate neck, every roll of his pelvis, every graze of his fingers over her own was making Amanda feverish.  Flustered.  It was also keeping the pair of them on the wrong side of the door. Dropping her frigid hands with a frustrated growl after another failed attempt, Amanda stomped her foot before reaching up to try again.  Shifting away from the long legged leviathan behind her, prompting his dulcet demand, “Quit wiggling and open the door!” “I’m trying but-” “But what, huh?”  Wrapping over her back, the sharp bone of his chin hooked over her shoulder to watch her progress as Eddie’s red, raw fingers dragged strands of unruly hair behind her ear.  Breathing hotly against the golden hoop hanging there, he husked hoarsely, “Need some, ah, help, Mandy?” “Please?”  

Caving into the warmth behind her, Amanda nodded, her head rolling back against the denim vest over his torso, hair catching on his WASP pin causing her to moan pitifully.  That it gave Eddie the chance to litter her neck with wet, open mouthed kisses, his palms squishing against her jacket as he tried to touch more and more of her was just an added bonus.  Arms, creaking leather encased arms, reached around her, crowding her snuggly between the unopened door and his chest as the keys were plucked free from her grip, “Lemme try.”  With her mind and hands free, Amanda’s own fingers could wander and they did.  Quickly finding the dangling chain of Eddie’s wallet, she used the steel links to pull him tighter, earning a stuttered “Fuck.” from the guy at her back.  Now she got to listen as her house keys jangled noisily while he attempted to do what she could not.  Work them into the lock and open the fucking door. “I thought you were- uh, I thought you were supposed to be helping, Ed.”  God, but she sounded wrecked already, her round bottom rubbing him through layers of distancing denim, the hard and firm evidence of the effect she was having making itself known.

And maybe it wasn’t fair of her to grind the curve of her ass into the sharp angles of Eddie’s hip bones while he fumbled to open her front door.  Maybe.  But when Amanda felt the firm length of him straining and stuck in his jeans she didn’t feel bad.  Not even a little bit because that was proof.  Evidence of just how much Eddie wanted her. It made her bold.  Kissing the underside of his stubbled jaw as her keychain jingled in his giant hands, her lips smacked rudely over the sensitive skin at his throat forcing a croak out of him, “Trying, honey, but you’re kinda, Jesus-” She sucked harshly at the divot below his chapped ear, “-you’re, uh, distracting- there it is!”  Triumphantly turning the knob, Eddie shuffled in short steps behind Amanda, tucking her close as they crossed the threshold.  

With a satisfying snap, the door was shut behind them to keep the world out.  But who could worry about something like an open door when there was kissing to be done?  The heated sort of kisses which didn’t stop when Amanda ripped down the zipper of her jacket, shrugging her arms free before flinging it away into the abyss of the living room.  Kisses that went melty in the middle, stretching and stretching but never breaking even when she forced her way under the shoulders of his leather, pushing it to the floor with a satisfying thump. Her hands wasted no time.  Palms flat over the planes of his chest, she marveled for a moment at the solid strength hidden in Eddie’s trim physique.  The muscles that lugging amplifiers and tossing truck tires created, buried beneath bravado and cotton and tattoos, only seen in glimpses now tense and tight and touchable. Fisting into the soft t-shirt he wore, a secretive smile spreading across her face, “Hi.” “Hi yourself, Miss Mandy.”  Eddie’s paws spanned her ample waist, forcing her closer, his fingers tapping out an unfamiliar rhythm on the small of her back.  With his curls brushing over her scalding cheeks, she licked her lips in anticipation, ready for the next press of his mouth to her own.  And following the flick of her tongue, a hungry, haunted look on his face, he gritted out, “Where- shit, where’s your bedroom, Mandy?” Wordlessly she linked their hands together.  A shiver that started in the sacred space below her navel raced through her blood, her body.  Had it ever been like this before?  As if her physical self was running a race that her heart and mind would follow to the finish? No.  Never.  Not once. Tugging against a hand heavy with silver rings, insistent and eager, she led the way and he followed.  It wasn’t far.  A few short steps down a shaggy carpeted hallway then through a door, partially opened already.  

The room, Amanda’s room, was made of comfort- a brown corduroy bean bag sagged next to a record player being held up by two plastic milk crates crammed full of way too many records.  A double tape deck had carved out its place on her desk, a stack of cassette cases leaning precariously, a few already having tumbled to the floor nearby.  Her tawny acoustic guitar leaned against the wall, sheet music and notebook paper scattered around as if it had all been abandoned mid-session, frozen in time but waiting for her return.  Pegged to her cork board was a calendar marking out her work days, school schedule and band rehearsals.  Textbooks for her classes were stuffed into an unzipped backpack, and while the main floor was clear, it was scattered with little things like pencils and hair ties and stuffed mice and take-out forks.

He spied a knitted afghan in garish colors folded lovingly over a quilted brocade comforter and a stack of pillows, each with their own unstained case, piled against the rattan headboard.  Her closet door was hastily shut but the tell-tale bulge of a lot of clothes crammed into not enough space was obvious.  Photos and posters decorated the walls.  It surprised him to see so many band names that he recognized mixed with 70s folk artists and new wave performers. Eclectic.  Varied.  The space was mis-matched but all the better for it.  Personality, Amanda’s personality, wafted from every corner. This was her little nest, snuggled safely between these four walls, burrowed in like a happy mouse.  Surrounded with all the comforts a soft, cozy creature could ever need: books and music and light and sweet things.  Fuck, Eddie loved it. Probably, deep down in the dusky depths of his grimy gargoyle brain, he figured he shouldn’t.  Shouldn’t love the sheer ruffled curtains parted down the middle so that starlight was visible over the neighboring houses, soft and serene.  Definitely shouldn’t stoke the soft fabric with tentative fingers, rubbing the pristine veil between inside and out with thoughtful touches, careful not to stain it.  It was all too nice, everything around him.  Too pretty.  Too put together for a guy who ate cereal over the sink and considered ketchup a vegetable. “This is a real nice place.”  God, he sounded so stupid.  But, like, it really was a nice place. Comfortable and clean.  And quiet.  No noisy neighbors shouting out their frustrations into the cold night air or barking dogs or backfiring cars with tires bouncing over pebbled dirt roads. “Uh, thanks but you haven’t even seen it with the lights on.”  With a click, Amanda turned on the small bedside lamp that filled her space with a golden glow all at once.  She wasn’t surprised to find that Eddie had strayed to her make-shift music station, his eyes lighting up at the variety of singers and bands and artists with what she hoped was appreciation.  Taking a tentative step in his direction, talking with her hands, she edged nearer to the record player.  Keeping her voice small, as though she was afraid of ruining the simple silence between them, “Is it cool if I put something on?” “Yea, yes.  Of course.  It’s your room, right?” “Well, yea, I guess it is.  Uh, just-” and she moved to duck in front of him, already knowing which album to spin.  But he was almost definitely purposefully standing exactly where she needed to get.  “-Maybe you could, uh, let me in here?” Devilish now, an impish grin made his dimples pop, “Oh, am I in the way, Mandy?  Sorry ‘bout that.”  Only he didn’t sound very sorry at all.  And as she shifted nearer, he held his ground, settling his weight in his heels, his arms crossed over his narrow chest.  If she wanted to put on a record, she was going to have to squeeze next to him to do it and boy, did that idea light him up. Eddie was absolutely pushing his luck.  He knew it, but couldn’t help himself.  Blocking her path, planting his feet, he took up as much room as possible.  Call him curious, but he wanted to see what she would do.  Push him aside?  Press those luscious curves in tight?  Go back to kissing him so hard he felt like he was coming unglued?  God he fucking hoped so. Watching her closely, he saw that tattle-tale tilt of her head, the eyes he couldn’t forget reflecting his own mischief making energy as Amanda dropped to her knees.  Her tongue darted out from between her pillowy lips, spreading sweet saliva, shiny and slick in its wake.  Rounding now, he was locked in on the circle of her pout, his body kicking up a gear at the sinful suggestion of what was sitting so prettily in front of him.  Amanda, she knew what she was doing.  When she peered up at him from the floor, raking her gaze over his towering figure through the veil of her lashes, she had a good idea that he was going to take the bait.  So she reached out, not for the trim waist at eye level or for the hands fisted against denim wrapped thighs, but for her worn copy of Led Zeppelin IV sticking out from the bottom bin.

On an exhale through clenched teeth, a curse caught in his bone dry throat, “Sweet Jesus-” “Here.”  Shocked into silence, she handed over the faded cardboard, nodding towards the record player, “Side two, if you don’t mind.”

It was enough to knock him over.  How Amanda looked so innocent while making demands on her knees in front of him, resting back on her heels demurely, was a seismic shock to his system.  It made Eddie’s head go fuzzy, ears full of feedback like when his guitar was too close to his amp with the knobs turned all the way up.  He felt as though he was turned all the way up, cranked as high as possible, crackling explosively, dangerously near the limits of his control. Tacky sweat made his t-shirt cling in the warmth of Amanda’s room.  And if her magnetic eyes weren’t boring into him, waiting him out, then he probably would have shucked the offending layer without question.  As it was, she was too damn cute and too damn close for him to do much beyond blink away this latest round of pulsing need, which was the real problem here.  Somehow he obliged when she raised a hand, asking oh so politely, “Do you mind?” before he gently helped her up to her feet. Puffing out his held breath with a wry chuckle, he smoothly slipped her chosen record onto the turntable and lowered the needle’s arm.  Raising a cocky eyebrow when “Misty Mountain Hop” began to tumble from the speakers at a reasonably low volume, his swagger returned, “Ya know-” he paused to clear his throat, his voice already sounding too blown out, too rough, even to his own ears, “-I’ve seen Fast Times like twenty times.  Harrington loves that movie, so I, uh, know what you’re up to.” “Really?”  Her sweet voice was angel light from over his shoulder, as she spied on him slowly dropping the clear plastic lid on her stereo, “And what is that, Mr. Munson?  What, exactly, am I up to?” “I think you’re trying to get into my pants, Miss Patterson.”

Shrugging, she denied him an answer, her eye contact direct and unwavering.  Color, dusty pink and warm, spread over Eddie’s sharp cheekbones and under the smattering of freckles across his nose.  He made a choked sound, as though something had stolen his breath at the last second, when she finally replied, “And?  So, uh, so what if I am?” She sounded so much braver than she actually felt.  Flirting was the easy part.  The words between them holding added weight, spoken as they were, in the protective yellow glow of her table lamp, a comforting heaviness that was familiar and made the teasing effortless.  Easy.  

Just another stop on the tour.  Because there was a map for this journey and she knew where they were headed.  The terrain was well traveled.  She wasn’t naive.  The road forward was as clearly marked as Main Street, Hawkins, USA.  

And tonight Eddie was going to learn all about the sloping curves and high density areas that she wouldn’t be able to hide behind well draped skirts or shapeless sweaters.  She silently hoped that this pretty man with his broad smile and cocoa colored eyes still wanted to take the drive because Amanda wasn’t sure she could turn back now, even if she might wish for it later.  

Together they had started this engine, all he had to do now was push down on the pedal and off they’d go.  When they ran out of gas, if they sputtered out on the side of the road, and all she gained was the last two wonderful weeks and one night of lusty loving, the emotional equivalent of a “I humped Eddie Munson and all I got was this lousy t-shirt” souvenir, well, then she would learn to live with that.  

Was it ideal?  No.  But then, things seldom were.   And even though those three magic words had been said, had been kissed into her lips so many times since making their mutual confessions in the underused alcove at Steve’s house, it was still freaking her out.  Because hadn’t this all happened before?  Hadn’t she given so much of herself, of her heart, time and again, thinking that her feelings were returned- that this time it would be different, only to wind up disappointed? Tonight though, that kind of thinking had to be pushed aside.  There was no more room to be bashful.  To worry about what came next.  Not when the guy in question was trembling from the task of keeping himself civil, the tense set of his jaw giving him away as he kept a respectful distance.  Even still, the base maleness of him thrummed, vibrating the way guitar strings do when a chord is struck, the energy shimmering into sound. And Amanda had a great ear for that sort of music, too. At her taunting words Eddie’s mouth pulled to the right, a half smile making itself known as he crossed his arms over chest, “Hey, I’m not complaining, Mandy.” “Oh?  Good.  Yea, that’s good.”  And she danced away from him, hips swaying in time with the driving beat.  She stopped, popping the button on her dungarees with intention before shimmying them down her thick thighs, delighted by the pinch of Eddie’s teeth as he bit into his bottom lip.  He was going to draw blood.  The sweater she wore barely covered the swell of her hips but if he squinted, he was certain he could see the elastic of her panties.  White?  No, heather gray and spun out cotton.  Simple, straightforward and charming as hell.

Swallowing over the hard knot of want that pushed against his Adam’s Apple, barely managing to keep his grunting in check, “Damn, Mandy.” “Hmm?”  When she kicked her pants to the side he had to look away - at the ceiling, her wall, the mossy colored floor or risk cumming in his blue jeans. He slammed his eyes shut at the image in front of him.  It didn’t help.  Imprinted on the insides of his eyelids he could still see her.  Bare legged, her supple skin nearly glowing, practically begging for his touch.  Too sweet.  Too fucking precious.  Shit.  Fuck.  He wasn’t going to survive.  So close to short circuiting, Eddie dragged a hand across the back of his neck, going so far as to squeeze the skin there, just to bring himself off the edge because, holy shit, there was no way that she knew what she was doing to him. The song shifted and Amanda sat herself down on the edge of her bed before leaning back on her hands.  This new position thrust her chest forward, those smooth legs barely parted but making his gargoyle mind wander just the same.  It wanted… to bite, to suck, to mark and mar.  His goblin wanted to claim the fair maiden then lock her in the tallest tower, far away from anything or anyone harmful, except him, of course.  His first step was cautious, feeling his way forward with only Amanda’s signals to light his path.  The pull between them was undeniably strong, had been from the beginning, but he didn’t want to screw anything up now by being overeager.  And he sure as fuck didn’t want to scare his girl away by coming on too strong or making a wrong move.  Not when Robert Plant was singing and the room smelled like Avon lotion and lavender flowers and fabric softener, the expensive kind.  Not when his pulse ticked wildly, darkening his eyes and steeling his resolve.  Not when he could see a similar something simmering in Amanda’s expressive eyes. “You- you’re fucking gorgeous, Amanda.” “Eddie-” She let her head fall back, the tight tendons of her neck stretching, her rushed breathing making her chest rise and fall rapidly, the sound of argument loaded and ready. But he cut her off, moving a leg between both of hers, palms hovering over the width of her dimpled thighs, “-I wanna touch you.  Wanna, wanna feel you.  Can I?” “Can I?”  she parrotted sweetly, upending his advancement, deflecting a little.  And he must have nodded because then she was leaning towards him, gentle hands smoothing over his quads, her stare trained on his rapidly reddening face.  Roving, she touched him lightly, delicately, over the clothes he was still wearing.  Butterfly wings brushing over a flower's petals, never lingering before spreading goosebumps somewhere else, testing the waters of his tenacity.  When her clever fingers found his handcuff belt buckle, he stopped her, gathering her hands in his own, “It, uh, it catches.  Hang on.” He put a fraction of space between them, moving faster than she would have thought possible to catch up to her state of undress.  He toed out of his sneakers, shunting them out of the way as he huffed out a laugh, wrestling with his belt, “Fucking thing, I don’t know why I even-” “I like it.” Popping his head up, Eddie caught sight of Amanda’s playful smirk, “You do, huh?” Raising her chin so that she could spy on him through the fringe of her lashes, she nodded with a chuckle, voice sounding like spun sugar, “Yea, of course I do.  Goes with your whole bad boy image, ya know?” His fingers paused, the curtain of curls swinging while he asked, “Is that why you’re with me?  Because I’m a bad boy?” “Nope.”  She answered plainly, her focus never shifting, even though her hips did, thighs stopped from providing relieving friction by his knee, “I’m with you because of how you look at me, Eddie.  Me.  Like I’m something- someone worth looking at.” Pants forgotten, he traced a finger over the sweep of her cheek, “I love looking at you, you know that right?  It’s like you’re the fucking moon, Mandy.  Bright and, and beautiful and when you shine your light on me-” shaking his hair off his back, tone too earnest, voice too honest, “-it makes me forget about my darkness.” At the admission Eddie’s eyes drifted shut, his chin tipped skyward as he struggled to compose himself.  There was uncertainty shadowing his words, in the shape his lips made while speaking, entirely unsure if his mouth should be trusted to relay all of the things his heart felt to be true.  Because when he actually thought about it, three weeks ago he hadn’t known that there was a person named Amanda Patterson who even existed in this world.  Now?  Well, now she kind of was his world. And his world was reaching forward with tender, impatient hands, sliding his broken down leather belt free from the beloved buckle easily.  Nimble fingers making quick work of the rivet fastening his pants closed but she stalled there, blinking up at him with confusion clear in her eyes, “Did you call me the moon?” A wide thumb hooked under her chin, lifting those thoughtful peepers to his own, “Yea, Mandy.  The moon.  Like when it’s full and round and close and you can’t believe that it’s real, looking down on you all lit up and so-” her touch was so so so close to his throbbing hardness he grunted, “-fucking hell.  So ca-captivating.  Can’t take my eyes off you.” It happened again.  That thing where the world narrowed anytime she was with him, a hyper-focused momentary shift of time and place that made Amanda’s heart flutter wildly, blood roaring in her ears.  A second when everything else around her faded into the background leaving no one else but her and Eddie.  Together.  Alone. So she didn’t laugh at his poetic confession or joke about his Shakespearean ideals.  Instead, her pretty lips parted, mewling musically as his tongue licked into the honeyed cavern of her mouth.  Sharing each inhale and exhale, pressing his advantage and Amanda higher up the bedspread until she was flat against the mattress, caged between strong tattooed forearms. Breathing heavily, sitting back with a sigh, he traced a hand over the fuzz of her sweater, “Can you- can I take this off you?” Something about being compared to the moon freed her from whatever worries she carried about herself, her body, to fade into the ether.  When he asked to see her- all of her, her answer was a demanding, “God yes.” Eddie’s mouth fell hungrily to the newly exposed skin on her collarbone, hot and wet and needy.  A tiny whimper tumbled out of her panting mouth when he slurped over the slope of her bra covered breasts, his hands politely cupping the cotton covered flesh.  Desperately, her own hands clawed at his head, keeping his pursed lips tight to her body as he devoted himself to devouring her in bite-sized pieces. “Shit, h-hold on f’me.”  Stuttering, sitting up on his knees, Eddie took a second to rip his own shirt off, tossing it behind him without a second look.  His jeans were open, belt dangling loosely from the loops, the elastic waistband of his boxers low enough to display the cut of his hip bones.  There were silvery scars in concentric circles that didn’t look as purposeful as the tattoos she’d been dying to see, and before she could be told not to, she was tracing over the slightly raised skin with her index finger. Eddie let her touch.  Explore.  The graze of her hands was intentional, not teasing and not pitying either.  He would know because he’d been on the receiving end of both before.  More than that, he appreciated that she asked no questions about what had created the mottled pattern on his abdominals, just accepted that they existed and were part of him. If he wasn’t already in love with her, that alone would have surely cemented his fate.  Surging in his system like the first inhale of that kind bud Rick got from Canada, he relaxed into the feeling, letting it blossom while sampling the sensitive stretch of her neck, the ball of her shoulder, the space between her breasts.  A starving man facing a Golden Corral buffet table wouldn’t have sounded happier than he did at that moment. “God, look at you, Mandy.”  He hummed as he worked his way over her ribs,  “Moon goddess.  My moon goddess.”  Writhing beneath him, she folded towards him at the praise, little huffing sounds pushing over her lips, “You look so good right now.  So sweet.  So goddamn sweet for me.”  The words were honey hot, warm and sticky, and they chafed like his denim covered legs. rubbing deliciously against her naked ones.  The friction too much and not nearly enough for the pleasure taking root in the warm, moist soil of her center.  Even touch drunk on Eddie she bucked at the sentiment, practically pouting, “Hmm, I’m not-” she scrunched her eyes shut, tossing her head weakly against the blanket, “-I’m not that sweet.” Dropping down to his forearms, his nose nuzzled into hers as he chided tartly, “Maybe I should taste you again then and make sure?  Gonna let me?  Let me taste you and touch you and make you feel good?”   Nodding from beneath him, keen eyes locked on his, “Hmm- Yes, yes, uh huh.  I want that.  So bad.  Want you so bad.”  Shutting her eyes at the sensation, his calloused fingertips slid up the satin of her outer thighs, leaving shivery bumps in his wake .  He dug his fingertips into the pillowy softness there, loving the feel of her flesh under his touch, “I’m gonna give you everything you want, Mandy, don’t worry.  Gonna make you mine.  Keep you in bed until the sun don’t shine.” A sound then, half groan half giggle, floated between them, Amanda sighing through a playful smile, “Eddie Munson’s a- a poet.  Who knew?” “Credit where credit’s due, babe.  I’m a songwriter.  A lyricist, ya know?  Whoa!”  His answer was smug but faded fast when she yanked down on his jeans before brushing the pads of her fingers over the newly exposed tattoo on Eddie’s right hip.  

It was beautiful; a snake in black and gray, coiled around itself, the wide fanged mouth biting into the tail in an unending loop.  This piece was big.  Artistic and finely detailed.  Her open palm barely covered half of it when she reverently pressed against the permanent artwork.  “And, uh you just bring it out in me- Jesus Christ!  Your hands are freezing!” “Are they?”  with a tone turned thick with teasing, she widened her smirk before those frigid digits were skating over his pecs and poking into his ribs.  Like a startled grasshopper, he jumped back far enough to catch her tickling fingers, the grip on her wrists keeping her from reaching his more sensitive areas despite her wiggling attempts to get free. Leaning in closer, loopy laughing aside, he tsked, “Oh, bad move, Mandy!”  “Ah!  No, Eddie, please!  I’m really ticklish- Ah!”  She started to scoot away, further up the bed, side to side, trying to shimmy out of his hold, laughing the whole time.  Loudly.  Happy to be caught.  Using his teeth, feral and frolicking, Eddie bit into the roundness of Amanda’s shoulder, the small sharp pain widening her eyes, “Did you just bite me?” Flashing her his lady-killing grin, he clicked his tongue, “Told you I had to know how sweet you were, Mandy.  And-” settling his hips between her parted thighs, “-I gotta say, you’re pretty damn tasty.” An answering hum of appreciation met her ears as Eddie continued lower.  Without question or qualm, he nuzzled and nipped at her abundant flesh, his happy hands squeezing indulgently whenever she sighed out encouragement.  And all Amanda could manage was a continuous begging cry of “Please, please Eddie, don’t, don’t stop, ok?”  

Why would he?  There was some addictive element, a chemical, an additive that laid across every inch of her body and he craved it.  Couldn’t get enough.  Landing somewhere between cinnamon sugar coating and honeyed dust, the flavor of her skin was exactly the thing he had been ravenous for his whole life long.  There was no way in hell he’d stop searching it out, not when he found the source, “Not a chance, Mandy.” She felt his grip on the flimsy fabric of her panties, tense and twitchy.  Hands slipped under the legband, cupping the expanse of her bottom in two palms before digging into the meat of her ass as Eddie’s nose pressed against the soaking gusset.  His moan was the kind that shook mountains to their foundation.  It created tidal waves that ravaged cities.  For Amanda it twisted the knot of her need tight enough to snap, her thighs wanting desperately to slide shut, but falling further apart shamelessly, instead. There was no trepidation to the touches now.  With a rough pull the cheap drug store underwear disintegrated, the scraps unneeded and unwanted any longer.  Amanda didn’t have time to bother about it because Eddie’s hard working hands were parting her legs, holding her open and on display with the weight of his body. Chest heaving, he called to her, “Hey, look at me, baby.  At me, Mandy.” “Yea?”  She was a mess of lavender and lilac stains, streaked with spit and red wine colored bruises.  But she was smiling, half-cocked, when her stare met his blown out pupils. “If you want me to uh, to stop, you gotta say it now.” Amanda did not.  What she did was whine, low in her throat, as her cleft clenched around nothing, “Don’t stop.” “Just remember that I love you, yea?” Licking over her dry lips, rolling her hips under his strong hold, she nodded, “Love you too.  Only you-”

The rest of her sentence remained unsaid as Eddie’s tongue licked right over her juicy center, circling the swollen firmness of her clit with expert precision.  He wrapped his arms around her legs from beneath, keeping her parted for his pleasure as he lapped at the drooling opening between her lower lips.  He wasn’t gentle as he moved Amanda’s thicker body closer, jerking her down and onto his waiting tongue over and over and over again.    It was maddening to be pummeled by the slick wetness of his textured tongue, only deep enough to create more wanting, before he would flick the tip higher, aiming for the bull’s eye of her clitoris.  Sloppy from excitement he swapped light licks for sucking.  Drawing her pulsing pearl between his slick lips, eyes closed, enjoying the softer than silk sensation of her sweaty self, bow tight and at his mercy. He didn’t let up.  Couldn’t.  And when he felt the shaking in her muscles, Eddie took it as the invitation is it was, gliding two fingers into the pulsing tunnel of Amanda’s willing body.

She contracted around the invasion, her hands seeking a hold and finding it in the flowing strands of his mane.  Wrenching him snuggly between her parted knees, she was dangerously close to losing control.  Could already feel the tell-tale concentration of her energy drawing inward.  The wetness that sluiced down the crack of her ass, the hummingbird fluttering of the muscles in her pelvis, the sticky press of Eddie’s cheek to her inner thigh.  All of it webbing together, a thread winding tighter and tighter and tighter. And the rough texture of his fingers grazed her front wall exactly the right way.  And he hummed out a laugh which puffed over her swollen lips exactly the right way.  And the strings of her satisfaction snapped under the burden of his ceaseless passion. She must have made noise.  Had to have, since her mouth moved at least.  Falling open as the first flush of her orgasm gave way to a rolling tide of pleasure that broke through her in waves but she didn’t hear anything beyond the crashing pounding of her pulse.  Fists full of Eddie’s hair fell away as all of Amanda’s bones turned to jelly, her tendons to jam, while she melted into the bed beneath. Pulling away from her, panting hotly into her dampness, through slick shiny cheeks he grinned cockily, “Sweeter than candy, Mandy.  I knew you would be, fuck, and you-” he stopped talking to watch the way she accepted his intruding digits as deep as possible, bucking into the touch he offered wantonly despite just cumming, “-you just want more, don’t ya?” “Hmm, yea.  Want wha-whatever you’ll give me.”  Leaning up on her elbows she caught him licking her spend from his fingers before dipping right back into her, a devilish glint in his eyes. “Whatever I’ll give you, huh?”  Eddie curled his fingers inside of her quivering core, stretching apart, taking up space, as his smoky voice purred, “You asked for it.” There was a flurry of sudden movement; he stood up fast, wiggling his hips until the heavy denim of his jeans hit the floor with a satisfying thump.  His boxers dropped free in a flash.  The bed dipped under his weight and before she could react, Eddie clasped a firm hand around each ankle and forced her knees back, nearly bending her in half. For him, the view was spectacular.  The cro-magnon part of his brain flipped on, wanting only to take.  Conquer.  Consume. Who could blame him when he had his dream woman, his Moon Goddess, his Mandy, slick and spread out for him to feast on?  The now painful stiffness of his hard on trembled at the sight.  A patch of dark curls matted with pre-cum dotted his navel as the prolonged anticipation became too much to bear.  Gripping himself, squeezing really, Eddie stroked over his cock, trembling as he asked, “Do you have a- a rubber?” Tossing her head, hair in tangles around her face, Amanda reached for him, “I’m on the pill.” For a second the heat abated and Eddie met her eyes, “Yea?  That’s great fucking news.” “Have to be- Oh my GOD!”  Rubbing the head of his dick between her folds, he slapped it into her overstimulated clit, cackling at her startled reaction, “Aw sweetheart, you don’t have to call me God.  I’ll always answer to Ed-” But he bit off his sentence when he felt her hand glide over his shaft.  If he was going to tease, so was she, “Fine, Ed- don’t keep me waiting, alright?” “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.  Wouldn’t dream of it.”  Amanda’s back arched violently as her tender flesh parted around the thickness of Eddie’s erection.  He notched into her slowly, rasping through held breaths, “You- you doing ok, Mandy?” Nodding was the only response she could give considering the ripples of pleasure already bubbling through her, but he pinched at the fat of her hip, “Need you to say it, Amanda.  Tell me.  Yea?” 

And the last note was pleading, tender, which brought her back into herself long enough to whimper, “I’m doing ok, Eddie.  Are- are you?”

He was struggling to be a gentleman, that was certainly true, and his gargoyle brain wanted to run amok but, “Yea, I’m fucking fantastic.” Laying her head back, exposing her neck, she managed to smile before sighing, “Good.  That’s so good.” He groaned then, deep and rumbling, before rocking his hips forward.  Seating himself down to the root, Amanda took everything he had inside her quaking core and damn, it was exquisite.  To be surrounded by the yielding silver softness of her body, cool and clean, when his own was made of hard angles and rigid lines made Eddie want to howl.  Wasn’t that what a wolf would do under the light of the full moon?    And what of the moon?  Did she reply to the lovesick creature, crying to the heavens?  

Digging her heels into the beloved bed clothes for more traction, driving herself along his length so that he could know just how incredible it felt to be joined with him in this way, Amanda met him thrust for thrust.  Ratcheting her own hips eagerly, moaning brokenly through every inhale, “More.  I can take it.  Please?  Please.”

Her wolfman didn’t need to be asked twice.  A hand palmed her thick ass, grinding her bones against his without withdrawing, seeking the untouched places deep inside with wet and warm and wild abandon.  Dropping over her, he used his tongue to find her nipple, sucking harshly as if there was a way to taste her heart, her veins, her muscle and fascia.  Lewdly.  Rudely.  

And she didn’t hold back.  Her nails, sharper and painted a rosy color, scratched along his forearms, his shoulders, his back.  Anywhere that could be reached, touched, marked as ruined by her hands as she struggled to hold fast through the pummeling, punishing pushes. Bejeweled rings snagged her hair as his hand curled around the nape of her neck, dragging his mouth to hers.  Their tongues mimicked the movement of their lower halves; pushing, pulling, tangling together.  And when the kiss became too much, the threatening rasp of teeth nipped at the bulge of his Adam’s Apple, his exposed throat too great a temptation to ignore.

For her effort, his moon was serenaded by a ceaseless chant of words such as “want” and “love” and “forever”.  That his every uttered syllable was met with the sounds of her surrender; of her body, her mind, her soul, was not lost in translation.  Eddie recognized what each utterance meant, a natural interpreter of the noises she emitted, and thought that a recording of her sexy sounds had the potential to climb the charts.  Top 100 for sure- if he was even remotely willing to let anyone else hear the concert of their lovemaking.  He wasn’t though.  Not just because of the intimate nature of this particular show but because he was a selfish, selfish man.  No one else should be allowed to hear the symphony that was their ode to an evening.     She was beaming, could feel the radiant heat off of her own skin in the swell of her cheeks and burning through in patches where a bite mark or bruise might show in tomorrow’s light.  Biting into her lip with a hum, she grinned, giddy and glowing under all the tender affection of being loved so well by Eddie.  He was thorough, kissing and clinging in random places at random moments and her sex drunk brain couldn’t be bothered to keep up.   Already pliant, no longer entirely in control of her movements, when the muscles of her right thigh let go, she didn’t fight it.  Catching on the jutting crest of his hip like it belonged there, curled naturally around his waist, it trapped him tightly to her.  The change in position was ruinous.  Overwrought and overworked, she was going to cum again, and harder than the first time.  When she spoke the words, punctuated by his quickening thrusts, his smile grew wolfishly wide.  Gleeful at her stuttered announcement, praising her, “You feel so good, M-Mandy.  S’ perfect.”

Amanda’s eyes rolled back in her skull, the powerful release pulling her under as her muscles stiffened, fighting against the rising tide before dropping into the pocket, waves of pleasure lapping against each other.  Gasping, his name the only sound filling the still of the night, an incantation recited over and over again until her lungs burned from want of oxygen.  Her’s wasn’t the scream of a porno actress from a secretly rented video, over dramatic and purposefully false.  And maybe that’s why it hit Eddie right in the darkest depth of his heart.  She wasn’t acting out her ecstasy.  She couldn’t be faking the erratic pulsing rhythm of her orgasm as it spurred on his own. Slippery.  Constricting.  Lake bottom deep, he sunk himself further into her silk and let go with a moan, “Amanda-” Her arms wrapped around him.  Legs too.  And as he shuddered, a ragged breath blowing the sweat stuck strands of hair off his forehead, he felt the smallest nudge along his jaw.  Tiny presses of her mouth, little mini kisses to his bicep, over his collar bone, and down the proud slope of his nose. “Hey you.” Giggling at the gangly guy situated between her knees, she bit her bottom lip, tilting her head in her signature sassy way, “Hey yourself.” Wiggling his hips slowly, still incredibly hard, he flashed Amanda a sheepish grin, “I’m almost afraid to, ya know, pull out.  I think I- I made a mess.” Now she was outright laughing, “Oh really?  You think so, huh?” “Shit, you have to stop that!”  His jaw was clenched tight despite the lighthearted way he spoke.  Every nerve ending was raw, receiving too much stimuli, but he wasn’t ready for it to end.  Didn’t really want to separate and go back to being two people, two bodies, two hearts.

Innocently asked, Amanda’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion, “What?” “Laughing!  You’re still- ah!  You’re still squeezing me!” But that only made her laugh harder, “I’m so sorry!  But, you’re pretty fucking funny after sex!” “Is that so, little missy?”  And that’s when Eddie leaned up, making to kiss her, but licking a thick stripe up her cheek at the last second that made her squirm and squeal in mock disgust.  Easing himself free, a trickle of wetness following, Eddie pressed his forehead to hers, “If I’m pretty fucking funny then you’re just fucking pretty.” If it hadn’t struck her before, it hit her with the force of a baseball bat now; her lover was beautiful.  Even with limited light illuminating his sweaty skin, he was glowing and her heart thumped at the image before her.  Eddie, her Eddie, with his bangs sticking to his forehead, tacky with sweat from the exertion of fucking her so hard, happy and melty at the edges like a really good grilled cheese sandwich. “I love you.” Laying his head on her chest, sighing like a young girl with a crush, he answered, “I love you.” He didn’t say “I love you, too.”  There was no “too” about it.  He knew how he felt, in his heart, in his body, in his mind.  And even with the cloudiness of a great orgasm hazing his thoughts, Eddie felt the truth in it. Groaning in protest, she made to move to get up, to leave the bed, but he stopped her, “Tell me where I can get a towel, alright?” “I can get up, Eddie.”

He shook his head sending his sweat soaked waves into the air, “Yea, you can, but I don’t want you to, ok?  So, bathroom?  Where can I find it?” She extended her hand lazily, pointing, “First door on the right.  It has a toilet and a tub, so you know, can’t miss it.” Pushing up on his hands and knees, Eddie thudded to the floor on heavy feet.  Turning to bow, naked as the day he was born, using a put on cockney accent, “Yes m’lady!  Right away!  Your faithful servant won’t let you down!” Her sparkling laugh chased him down the hallway.

Not much later, when water had been shared from a jelly glass with Tom & Jerry running around the rim and the damp, once warm towel used for cleaning up had been chucked into the hamper, Eddie thumped his head back against the headboard.  His body lax as he drew Amanda closer, “I gotta say, Mandy.  Thought you said you were new to all this, had me thinking I was going to need to show you how it’s done, but you just, ya know, rocked my world.”  His kiss was affectionate, playful even, without the fevered heat of desire burning it to ash.  Shifting up to her elbow, head in her hand, eyes heavy but watchful, “I’m not a virgin.  I’ve, ya know, had sex before.” That was news to him.  Not that he would stake his life on it, but there had been a conversation about experience over patty melts and paper napkins.  About newness.  About being without skill or practice.  “But-” Flopping forward, her head laid on his sweat cooled chest, cheek squished against his zombie tattoo, “I wasn’t lying to you, if that’s what you think.  I just- I haven’t dated much but, this-” she waved a hand taking in the bed, the room, the nakedness, “-I’ve done this a few times before.” He rolled onto his side, scooching lower so he could see her better, his warm hand finding a home along the expanse of Amanda’s ribs and rubbing continuously, “I know my head is still a little fuzzy after all the great lovin’ and all but, uh, I’m not sure I’m following.” Blowing out a breath that sounded something like frustration, she shrugged, “Guys take me to bed but not to dinner.  I’m not, ya know, girlfriend material, I suppose.  It’s like, I’m good enough to make out with, especially if it makes some other, prettier, thinner girl jealous.”  Her mouth twisted up, not really a frown but a far cry from the sweet smile Eddie had come to appreciate.  She was staring through him, seeing images made of memory, “Good enough to- to fool around with in the dark.  Places where no one would see, like under the bleachers or behind a dumpster.  But take me to a restaurant?  A movie?  Out with friends or family?  No way.  “And I’m always so-” she rolled her eyes, trying to find the right word, “-I don’t know, needy?  Desperate maybe?  That a guy pretending to be interested could offer me kisses in corners or bathroom stalls where no one would ever think to look and I do it.  Gladly.  Because even their half assed affection is better than nothing, right?”  But Amanda didn’t wait for Eddie to answer, carrying on with an edge in her voice, “If I touch them, let them touch me, then they’ll give me what I want.  Flowers and romance and, and-” he heard the way her throat caught, a strangled sound shaking through her as she finished, “-love.” Tossing her head, she banished a wayward tear, smiling thinly at her man’s silhouette in the muted light, “Now though, I’m here, with you.  A guy who sees me, all of me.  You see me and you don’t make me feel bad about who I am.  How I look.  You see me, and, and you like me even in broad daylight.  And no one’s ever done that before.  I mean, you already brought me around your friends.  Your family.”  Her emphasis on the last word not lost on him and neither was the twinge of pride in her voice at how she said it.  “Amanda-”  He wanted to reach out, reassure her, but she shook him off. There was more to say, more to tell and for the first time in a long time, she wanted to share her thoughts with someone.  Not someone.  Eddie.  

Swallowing, she looked up at him, comfortable and relaxed under her threadbare bedsheet, “You wanted to know what happened tonight?  When I was at practice?” Maybe there was something in her voice that gave her away.  He could tell that this was uncharted territory for his Moon woman, taking her out of her depth, a thing difficult to share.  Maybe he also realized that something was shifting, something important, so he bobbed his head, locking her fingers with his, “Yea, but only if you wanna tell me.  There’s no pressure, you know that, right?” Nodding, Amanda sat up now, pinning the sheet under her arms so that it covered most of her breasts.  Her hair was a knotted mess, wild and untamed, but she was lit from within.  Eddie felt as though she was worthy of sculpture, ready to be captured for all time in alabaster stone or graying quartz.  Some Italian master should be committing the image before him into marble.  The combination of fragility and strength on display was overwhelming even if the underlying hurt etched in her face made Eddie’s chest ache. “I know and that’s kind of why I want to tell you.”  It was an admission of trust, of respect, and another stunning example of how strong her feelings truly were.  With a small gesture encouraging her to go on, Amanda inhaled sharply, “Right.  So, tonight, at rehearsal?  Mark, you know my drummer- uh, the drummer?  He was being the biggest asshole.  To everyone, not just me.  Really picking on us all, which was weird.  ‘Cause normally he’s kinda, well-” Stepping on her sentence, Eddie finished with a shit eating grin, “Steady?”  “Oh, that was bad, even for you.”  She groaned at the ill timed, but sort of hilarious drumming joke.  Lifting his hands, signaling his apology, she tilted her head thoughtfully, “Anway, he said some stuff and-” That made Eddie sit up too, his legs folding and taking the blankets with them, “Wait, he said something about you or about me?” “Um-” her fingers fiddled with the fabric, eyes avoiding his baleful brown orbs for the first time all night.  Not a great sign. “If it’s about me, no problem.  I can handle that, Mandy.  Hell, I’ve been handling that shit my whole life.  But you?  Baby-” Eddie cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him, “-You don’t deserve that shit.” “About us both, I guess.”  Her shoulders lifted in a shrug, “Mark was, well, he was angry.  At me.  Said that I sounded ‘desperate’ when I was singing the other night, that I was ‘begging for a man’ like- like some kind of tramp or something when I was singing to you.” Holy shit, was he struggling right now.  With every other word Amanda uttered, Eddie’s blood ran like frigid November rain, in icy sheets that burned or in magma hot lava-like flows that scorched his heart from rage.  Luckily he was hiding it well.  

Going for cool, casual even, he cast about asking, “So, uh, what else did Mark have to say?” With a guilty gulp, she went on, “A lot.  And he kept running his mouth so much, too much, really.  It’s just- I thought he was my friend, you know?”  And honest to god, her chin shook as she held back the tears her emotional meridian begged to release, her voice going warbly with the effort, “But in the end, he was just like the guys at school, the boys back home.  Wanted the- the thrill of being with a girl like me, a big girl, and thought I should be-” in a barely heard whisper she trailed off,  “-grateful for his attention.” Now, young Mr. Munson had spent time as an angry juvenile.  The world and the way it worked had done its level best to beat him down over and over again.  Before the interdimensional trauma that left him scarred and scared, he had trained himself to live and let live, a philosophy that he was pretty certain had saved his life on more than one occasion. But hearing the way she spoke about Mark, a dude she knew and trusted, filled him with a furious anger so white hot that he almost could not believe that smoke wasn’t spilling out of his ears like in a Bugs Bunny cartoon.  It didn’t seem like the darling at his side noticed when his unoccupied hand closed in a tight fist that he was currently imagining ramming right through the skin of a bass drum directly into the sternum of Mark, as if he might bend the laws of physics and somehow be able to beat the shit out of this asshole from the safety of Amanda’s bed.  

Because, like, who the fuck did this guy think he was? She wasn’t crying, not outright, but was sad about the circumstances all the same.  And from the pure desire to make his woman feel better, he snorted hotly, “Fucking dipshit.  He’s the one that should be grateful.” “What?” “I said, this Mark person, he’s the one that should be grateful to even, ya know, know you” he added, tugging that self protective strand of hair down and over his mouth.  Starting at a mumble that grew stronger the longer he talked, Eddie’s stare locked on Amanda’s, “Look, I already told you how I feel.  And, even if we weren’t, ya know, together, I’d still be thankful that you’re in my life.  You are something special, Amanda Patterson.  Something-” and then he couldn’t resist any longer, dragging a finger down her cheek until he could tip her chin up, those bright eyes searching his own, “-out of this world.  A treasure.” Rewarded with a wry shake of head and rolled wet eyes, Eddie carried on, “Honestly, thank fuck.” She sniffled a bit, asking through a thick throat, “What’s that supposed to mean?” His pink lips screwed up in a crooked smirk that scrunched his nose cutely, “It means, sweetheart, that those-” rings glinting the gloom, his hand flailed dramatically, “-dumbasses didn’t know they had struck gold when they met you.  Lucky for you, I know the good shit when I see it.” Deflating visibly, she huffed, “Gold plated is probably more accurate.”  It was meant to be lighthearted.  A little self deprecating, sure, but wasn’t it easier to make the joke then become one? “Hey, don’t do that.”  He caught her cheeks in a grip which was firm while his voice cotton soft, “I’m not joking around.  Not about this.  Not about you.” She didn’t move, frozen in place by the sincerity he was forcing her to accept.  Whispering into the quiet night, a hardly spoken rush of words, but he heard them all the same, “I’m nothing special, Eddie.” A fever of frustration climbed through him at that midnight confession.  The worst part was how truly she believed what she said, that there was nothing special about her, no reason for Mark’s misplaced interest or his own adoration.  That somehow she didn’t deserve Eddie’s praise, his attention, even his love, was all layered into that one sentence. “Mandy, don’t you ever talk that way about the person I love.  Never again.”  It was his gently uttered warning. “But, Eddie-”  she wanted to argue the point, make a case for being less than. Shifting quickly, he caught her around the bare expanse of her shoulders, “If I have to say it everyday, for the rest of your life, I will Mandy.  You’re amazing.”  A kiss, hungry and scalding, melded their mouths together, “You are so fucking sexy.”  Lips traced the line of her jaw, moving upward, “And I haven’t felt, well, whatever this is, ever before.” Even if her mind wasn’t quite convinced, Eddie’s nearness coupled with the sultry kisses and his heartfelt words had made her body a believer.  She smoothed a hand along his straight spine, her forehead tapping his own, “I imagine you say that to all the ladies you take to bed.” A warm, happy laugh rumbled through Eddie at her smart ass comment.  Pulling back, needing to see her eyes, “I’m going to be real honest with you, alright?  Put it all on the line, k?”  When she agreed with a short nod, he continued, “You may think that I do this sorta thing all the time- pick up chicks and service them until the sun comes up, until they uh, scream my name into the night- but I don’t.”  Tilting her head, really looking him over, she shook her own, her teasing edged with something harder, “You’re telling me that you don’t seduce the housewives who bring their cars in for oil changes?  Or, or, um, bang groupies after a good show at The Hideout?” “Me?  No way.  Not a chance.  Reputation ruiner, remember?  So I can tell you with 100 percent certainty that you are in my, my top 3, all time.  Easy.”  Mindlessly, Eddie started tracing stars into the skin of her thighs, consciously avoiding her piercing stare. But now she was curious, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, her eyebrows lifted, “Out of how many?” Yanking his hair forward, Eddie snickered, still bashful, “Um, out of three.  But, uh, out of those three, you’re my number one.  No question about it.”  The grin he flashed her was so deep, his cheeks aching from smiling so widely, that Amanda had no choice but to giggle too, “Number one, you said?” Reaching for her hand, linking their fingers together before nudging her closer, he corrected her gently, “Uh huh, you’re my number one.  Best I ever had.”  

“What are you doing to me, Eddie Munson?”  It was rhetorical, obviously, but it had to be asked even if she was unable to keep the tendril of truth out of her voice.  Because this conversation was powerful enough to capsize her, she realized too late to stop it from happening.  If he was going to sink her ship, she was going to have to grow gills or drown trying.  Otherwise she was never going to survive being cared for by the romantic rockstar in training who was taking up half her bedspread. Scrunching his eyes as he bit into his bottom lip, Eddie hemmed, “I’m uh, watching out for you.  Tryin’ to be a knight or a, a paladin.”  Rubbing his thumb in patient circles against the back of her hand, a little lost in his thoughts, “Want to be who and what you need, Mandy, because, yea, you deserve that.” “And what do you deserve?”  That drew him up short as she freed her hands so she could skate them over his exposed chest, “‘Cause I think you deserve things too.  Like someone to love you back.  Someone who hears you-” rising to her knees, she scooted a leg over his waist, bracketing his body between her dimpled thighs, “-and your terrible jokes but still laughs anyway.  Someone who appreciates you for all the wonderful and wild things that make you, well, you.”  She punctuated her sentence with a bop on the tip of his broad nose. His mouth was dry but his betraying eyes were damp as he cleared his throat roughly, hands already resting on the full rise of her hips, “Is uh, is that so, Miss Mandy?” “Totally.”  She pulled one of his hands away, the lined and creased side facing her before pressing her lips to its very center.  Covering it with her own she held it against the smooth expanse of her sternum, directly on top of her beating heart. Swallowing thickly, unable to look away, he asked, “Maybe I’ve found her?”  Bare and unashamed, leaning into his space, her sleek slit skimming his slowly solidifying length made his cheeks burn hotly as she rocked her hips back.  Nodding, she looked down at him, purring, “Maybe you have.”  Grinding down, her full weight holding him to the mattress, to the earth, he thanked whatever deity was closest for this brilliant, beautiful creature with the enchanting voice and bewitching eyes full of shining devotion.  Whatever she was before didn’t matter to him or the gargoyle who guarded his own thumping mess of a heart in its crumbling tower.  Amanda Patterson was his now, and he’d be damned before letting her go.  

—

1990 - Fall

“Let’s hear it once again for Mandy and the Maniacs!” All around her the crowd went ballistic.  Shouting, screaming, stomping, clapping noise filled the bar where the band, her band had taken the stage with the hope of making it through one more round.  One step closer to fortune and fame and everything that goes with it.  Based on the deafening roar of this particular crowd, Amanda had high hopes.  Fuck, but she wanted to win 1991’s Battle of the Bands.  Prove that she was good enough to make it on the strength of her own abilities, on the unflagging determination of her dream to sing for a living, and do it on her own. So she was smiling through the tears of happiness that filled her eyes, blinking rapidly as she committed the raucous riotous scene below her into her memory banks as the emcee was thrusting a plastic trophy complete with a fake gold guitar glued to the top into her sweaty hand, “Congratulations to our winners!  And don’t forget that you can see Mandy and the band here at Stingers every Friday night.  Doors open at 10pm!”

— “Good show tonight, Mandy.  You know, you guys are really going places.” Amanda toweled off the grimy sweat from being under too hot stage lights and the melted mascara that always found a way to slip down her face after a show, grinning broadly, “Thanks Davey.  We all appreciate your hosting and, of course, having us back week after week.” “Can’t have a rock bar with no music, that’d be like having a peanut butter sandwich without jelly.  Just doesn’t taste right, ya know?” Laughing politely, she nodded, “I think I get what you mean.”  And before he could ask again, Carly slid up to her side, “Ready to load in the gear?” A thankful expression crossed her face as she looked at her friend, still sweaty and streaked herself, “Yes ma’am.  Hey-” leaning in to shake Davey’s hand, Amanda’s black mesh fingerless glove pressing designs into his palm as she added, “-again, thank you for tonight.” “It’s always a pleasure, Mandy.  Uh, is there any chance you might wanna grab a dri-” Swinging a microphone case onto her shoulder, her back to the bar’s owner, Amanda answered swiftly, “Have a good night, Davey.” When they were in the chilly night air, sans jackets or even clothes that were close to appropriate for the weather in Indiana during an early cold snap, Carly lit up a cigarette, smirking, “He asked you again, huh?” Taking the flaming stick of death from her friend, Amanda took one, tiny puff, the smallest possible because her voice was still her best instrument, and lifted her heavily made-up eyes, “Was trying to, I think.” “Could it hurt?”  Carly ashed the butt quickly, staring at the bumper of the broken-in mini-van that they used to lug amps and instruments in, purposefully avoiding Amanda’s bewildered look. Toeing at the slushy puddle that gathered around the back tire, her big black boots with neon laces keeping her away from the muck, she considered it.  Would it hurt to let Davey buy her a drink?  No, probably not.  As a general rule, a single drink was not enough to hurt someone, but it was what came after that stalled her in her tracks. From under a jagged line of self cut bangs, Amanda tilted her head at her friend, one eye squeezed shut while the other stared dead on, “Eventually, yea.  Yes it could.  And not for nothing but I’m too toxic for anyone right now.” “That’s horseshit and you know it.”  Carly flicked the used filter of her cigarette with a flourish, her shirt sleeves swinging at the effort. Laying back against the frozen metal of the van, Amanda shivered, “Come on, don’t fuck with me, ok?  It’s been a good night.  Great even.  Let’s not fight about Davey and drinks that I’m not going to let him buy.” Kicking at the rims now, Carly grumbled, “You need to get laid.” “Fuck you, I do not!” This time her friend’s pretty pouting face found hers under the parking lot’s hazy yellow lights, “You do and so goddamn badly.  It’s been what, like two years since Ed-” “Don’t say it.” Exhaling wickedly, anger heating up her sigh, Carly jumped right into her diatribe, “I can’t even say his name, Amanda.  What is that about?  Are you ever gonna, I don’t know, get over him?  Go out with someone else?  Let another person stick their fucking tongue down your fucking throat?”  And when she didn’t reply, Carly pressed on, ranting into the empty night air, “Or are you going to die on this hill?  Because ‘I once loved Ed-” she shifted her focus to Amanda before softening up, “-a, a future rockstar who broke my heart when he left this town and me behind’ is not going to fit on your tombstone, sis.” Toying with the van keys, their metal ring going cold in her hands, Amanda shrugged.  She was tired all the way down to her soul.  Tired of being tired.  Tired of grinding so hard for the things she wanted.  Tired of Carly being mostly, sort of, almost totally right.  Tired of being alone.  Tired of missing a man with a name she couldn’t bear to hear. And yea, ok, she would absolutely own that her sad sack routine was going stale.  She bored herself most days, honestly.  But what was the point in letting Davey or any other person buy her a drink and think they stood any kind of chance when Amanda Patterson no longer had a heart to give? Nope.  Like the Tin-Man, she was kept alive by electrical impulses managed by some other organ because she’d lost her heart in 1988.  The year Corroded Coffin was discovered through Carly’s college radio station connections.  The same year a mid-western county fair tour was planned.  The year that took him away for the big life he was always supposed to lead.  The year that took her heart and never looked back. “Hell.  Give me a smoke, would ya?”

“‘Manda. You don’t like cigarettes.” Carly taunted in a sing-song voice. Shrugging, sad and cold, she waved her friend on with a uselessly gloved hand, “Maybe I do now.”  And when she took her first full inhalation a thought moved through the neural pathways of her brain.  It might kill her, in the end, smoking, drinking or whatever, but she then, had been dead inside for a lot longer.  Besides, there was no one watching out for her now.  No one to disappoint.  No one to worry.

Her lungs burned and the back of her throat protested, but Amanda smiled warmly in the cold night, “Thanks Carly.” Blowing out a held breath, the shorter girl rolled her eyes, “Fuck, you’re dramatic.  Just like him.  You know that right?” Her chuckle was hollow, raspy because of the smoking, “Uh huh.  I do.”  Dropping the burnt paper to the ground she stomped on it with the toe of her boot, unlocking the car, “Wanna get the fuck outta here?” “Yea.  Let’s go home.”

—

1987

Morning light cast the entire room in a golden glow that was entirely too ethereal to be real.  Only it was.  It had to be, because Amanda was laying on her side, the plush padding of her bum tucked against Eddie’s bare pelvis, as she slept peacefully in his arms.

Now that his eyes were open there were things he needed to do: take a piss, take a shower, get some food in his body that did not come out of a cardboard box and get to work.  Except he’d be  leaving this downy nest of a bed and the warmth of a very willing body to do any of it.  So, yea, Eddie didn’t want to do that, not even a little bit.

The alarm clock said seven thirty six, and if his bedtime math was accurate, he could stay until 8 o’clock.  Any later and he’d be in deep shit with, well, virtually everyone.  Why did it have to be Friday morning?  How come he had bedded his dream woman on a Thursday night, mid-week, knowing there were still responsibilities on the horizon?

As if she could sense that he was awake, she shifted her figure flush with his, and there was no way to hide his morning wood.  There was also no way she could not feel it pressing insistently at the small of her back.  He swallowed his spit, curling Amanda closer, and shut his eyes.  Eddie could manage the morning after.  He absolutely could.

“Mmm, morning.”  

Sleep stained and supple, Amanda started to roll his way but he stopped her with a kiss to her shoulder blade, “Uh, maybe don’t.” “Wha?  Oh.  Oh.”  And saucy minx that she was, she stretched her body so that his erection rubbed over the silken skin of her bottom. Groaning from way down deep in his chest, Eddie chided, “You’re a tease.” “You’re too easy.”   She was on her back now, head turned his way, outlined in the pale yellow rays of morning light.  His heartbeat sped up at the coy look she flashed from under her lashes.  Amanda wanted Eddie and in spite of the hard work he’d put in last night, he wanted her again too.  Dipping a hand under the filmy sheet, his fingernails scraped the swell of her hip, when the alarm clock clicked to 7:45 and began buzzing obnoxiously. “Shit!”  Scrambling up, Amanda hit the digital display’s off button, silencing the sound.  Slumping into herself, she looked his way with a frowny face, “I have class at 9.” “I’ve got work, myself.”  It was a guilty admission, no matter how true. Nodding, Amanda bit into her bottom lip, “Then I guess-” “We both have to go?”  They spoke over each other.  Whatever easy energy they had shared was taut now, stressed and strained but neither one moved.  Neither one really wanted to. Except a new day was started, one with expectations for Amanda and Eddie alone.  Still, she had to ask, hand twisting in the stray strands of her hair, “Will I, uh- um, maybe you can-” So Eddie took pity on his girl, lifting her hand to his lips chastely, “Are you trying to say that you wanna see me again?  Like, tonight?” “Do- uh, do you want that?”  She was barely suppressing her hope, struggling to keep her expectations of Eddie in check, regardless of all his pretty words when the lights were low. Thrusting out his little finger, Eddie wiggled it quickly, “Well, yea, of course I do.  Promise.” Linking them together, a chuffed out giggle escaped her pouty lips when he swung their hands like that, childlike and silly.  He used his leverage to drag her to his chest, a kiss landing on her nose, on each cheek, and finally her parted mouth.  They let go reluctantly when her alarm rang again, this time marking the hour as 8. “Shit.  I really, really, have to go.”  Eddie swung his leg over the side of the bed giving Amanda  a phenomenal view of his bare ass as he crisscrossed the room searching out his clothes.  Too easily the boy stepped into his jeans, forgoing his underwear, she noticed, and shrugging back into his tee. Hugging her knees, she could only watch, conflicting thoughts filling her head.  Her body was sore in the best possible way because of all that they had gotten up to last night.  She knew she’d be thinking of him all day, anytime she shifted in her seat or caught sight of the purple markings that littered her neck and chest. And she definitely wanted to do this- do him, again.  Without question, Eddie Munson was phenomenal in the sack.  But now he was leaving, and she understood it, alright?  She had shit to do herself.  Because it was a weekday and she paid so much for school and the music shop was letting her pick up a shift… Only, she wanted to linger in bed with her very cute and very sexy lover at her side.  Maybe get to lick his hardest parts, or, his softest.  Maybe get him to lick her again and again and again. “Don’t?”  Amanda hadn’t planned to say it out loud, but there it was, echoing around her quiet room.  A pleading question spoken from the depths of her heart, pushing pause on the guy in the middle of pulling up his socks, seated primly on the corner of her bed.  Shocked by her own actions, her eyes rounded as she backpedaled, “I mean, I know you have to and, and I have to, but that doesn’t mean I want you to- to go.  Ya know?  Last night was like-” she breathed out, willing herself not to get emotional even if she could feel the cold prickle of tears in the back of her throat, “-really special, for me at least.  And-” letting her eyes find Eddie’s coffee colored eyes, finished, “-I don’t want to say goodbye.” Blinking a couple of times, taking a beat, he wanted to get his answer right.  “Who says we have to say goodbye?” “You’re leaving.” Reaching for his boots, smile wide and shining under his mass of waves, “Uh huh.  But-” yanking the laces hard, he grinned her way, “-I’m coming back.”  “Are you though?”  

He cut off any other protests, standing quickly and walking around to her side of the bed.  Amanda had her feet planted on the floor, her sheet barely covering her most private of places, as she lifted her fretful face in his direction. Voice tighter than he wanted, shoulders tenser than they should be, Eddie looked down at this woman who had come to mean so much to him so quickly.  One ring clad finger tripped down the hill of her nose, “Shit, Mandy, I’m probably losing all my cool guy street credit when I say this, but, uh, this thing-” using his thumb under her chin, the skin there yielding to his even pressure, “-You and me?  This.  It fucking scares me-” She had the audacity to look surprised, those beguiling eyes going wide from the raw honesty he was showing, that tilt to her head more pronounced as she nervously whispered, “I- I scare you?” “No!  Shit, that’s not- I meant-” recovering quickly but feeling much shyer now, he tried to explain, “How I feel about you, I mean.  How much I care- it’s a lot.  For me, it’s everything.”  With the sound of knees cracking, he dropped into a squat so that he was looking up at Amanda’s face, not the other way around.   

“Oh.” her gaze softened shifting her focus until it landed on something far away, her mind working fast.  Loving her was already a burden.  Already too much to ask of a guy like Eddie, so wild and carefree.  And the realizations stung.  Maybe she didn't have a night to remember after all.  Maybe her knight in shining armor didn’t see her the way she imagined.  Maybe he wasn’t who she thought he was, after all. And her brain would have kept on running in ragged circles of self doubt if Eddie hadn’t nudged against her parted thighs, “Hey, Mandy?  Come back to me, yea?” “Sorry, I- uh-” steeling herself, her back stiffened, her smile slipping, “-Look.  We don’t have to do this.  I get it, Eddie.  And, ya know-” those eyes were back on him, sadder now, holding him still, “-we don’t have to do whatever this is.  Not now.  Not, ya know, ever.  I understand how this works, ok?” Despite his nearness she started to push off the mattress.  It was too difficult to sit there thinking he was afraid of her, of having feelings for her, of being with her.  Convinced that he probably wasn’t going to touch her again, that she couldn’t have him or his love for more than one night, no matter what he said or what promises were left unfulfilled was a punch in the gut- leveling.  

Shame burned through her because she should have known better.  It was all too good to be true like any other fairytale.  A story.  A fantasy. And she had to go, right now, because she wasn’t going to allow him to see so down and out.  Straightening her arms, rocking forward, she was ready to get away, to bolt.  But she didn’t get far.  Fingers dug into her leg, holding her fast, delaying her escape, “Damn it.  That isn’t- that isn’t what I said, Amanda.”  Eddie’s voice was pitched low- dark and rumbling like the growing thunder of a terrible storm.  It locked her in place even if she couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, terrified that she’d find pity or some other weakening emotion on his stupid, loving, handsome face.  A violent vermillion flash of fury surged through her, spewing caustic, cutting sarcasm from her pursed lips, “No?  Because that’s what I heard, Eddie.  I heard you say that you’re scared to- to, to be with me.” 

“Wrong.”  “Excuse me?” “I said that you’re wrong.  Even though you are so smart, right now?  Sweetheart, you are 100 percent, entirely and utterly wrong here.  What frightens me, Mandy-” his hands slipped around her waist as, falling to his knees in front of her, he carried on, “isn’t that I’m afraid to be with you.  I’m afraid to be without you.  I’m terrified that you won’t want to be with me.” Holding onto to her steely edge, glaring now, she swung another verbal dagger, “Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?” “Fuck, Mandy.  Take your pick-”  Counting on his fingers, the list started, “-former mega-nerd with a talent for collecting little lost souls and ensuring their survival through high school.”  A second finger went up, “Uh, lead singer of a regionally successful rock band full of said misfits that hasn’t had its big break yet.”   A third, “The best damn Dungeon Master in the state of Indiana, if I say so myself.”  Little finger, number four bent slightly, “Oh, not to mention I’m crisscrossed with scars from North to South no matter how great the tattys look and-” his thumb jumped, spreading his palm open wide, “-not that many years ago I watched a person I cared about get murdered which, ya know, messes a guy up pretty damn good. “On the plus side?  Let’s see, I’ve got great friends, my totally bitchin’ guitar, a halfway decent van, and I’ve finally met a girl that I fucking love.  But, shit, maybe she doesn’t feel like I do?”  And now he let his cinnamon eyes burn into hers, really revved up and showing no signs of stopping, “Maybe she just says pretty things when I’m making her cum and afterwards, well, she wants to be with some other dude.  Someone like Mark who’s gonna make something of himself?  Steady as fuck and boring to boot.  Someone who doesn’t love her like I do, because they don’t get it, they can’t love her like me.  How could they when they don’t get how my world spun off its axis when she jumped into my arms at the goddamned music shop.  Or how-” Her cheeks flushed at the memory, the moment when this love affair began, and she felt herself smiling wide, the momentary rage ebbing almost as quickly as it started.  Cutting him off, she cupped his jaw with firm fingers, “I do!  I promise you, I-I understand.  And, and I feel the same way.  Haven’t been able to get you out of my head since you seduced me into a dance in the sheet music aisle.”

“You’re the one who fell into me, Mandy.” Airy like a summer’s breeze, Amanda countered, “You tripped me.” Scoffing, he settled his weight on the balls of his feet, “So you do remember then?” “Of course I do.  And that’s why I didn’t want you to go.  If- if you leave today and never come back, what’ll I do, Eddie?”  She had nuzzled into the unshaven haven of his neck, just below his ear, and was keening like a fitful kitten, “Now that I have you, I don’t want anybody else.  I only want to be with you.  Only you.” Exhaling harshly, pulling her forehead to his, he husked, “Sad to say, darling, but you may be stuck with me.” Only he didn’t sound sad at all.  Neither did she when she moved a hand to either cheek, a dreamy smile on her face, “Yea?  You mean it?”  “Of fucking course I do.  And to prove it, come to my show tonight?” “Like, seriously?  Because I would really love to see you play.” The alarm toned again, 8:15am.  But fuck it, he could be late to the garage if meant seeing Amanda grin at him like this- all excited and eager, “Hell yea!  You can meet the guys and see what all the fuss is about when Corroded Coffin hits the stage.” Nerves jangled, she bit into her lip, worry creeping into her tone, “And you wouldn’t mind me being there?  Like, that wouldn’t be, I don’t know, embarrassing for you?”

His head fell back far enough for the tendons of his neck to stretch, the bulge of his Adam’s apple tantalizingly close, while his stare locked on hers, “Embarrassing?  No.  Hell no.  I’d be honored to have you there, cheering me on.”

“You’re not messing with me, are you?”  She raised her eyebrows playfully, giving him the out if he wanted to take it. And that same anger at Mark, at all the idiot guys who had hurt her flared up briefly, but he tramped it down like a lid on a grease fire, reassuring her again, “No way.  I want you there.  Need you there, Mandy.  Besides-” that impish grin was back, “-it’s only fair.  I saw you perform, now I get to return the favor.” Her mind was working, spinning his words around in her head faster than an unbalanced washing machine, as she processed what Eddie was saying.  When she finally came to a conclusion, Amanda nodded decisively, “Yea, ok.  I’ll come.  I-I’ll be there.” Pressing up to his feet, Eddie beamed down at her, “Sweet.  But, now I really gotta split, ok?”  She raised her chin, the permission for a kiss implicit in the action and he took advantage.  It was so easy to get lost in the flavor and feeling of her lips under his or the slide of his tongue over her own.  In the end, she had to push him away, breathless and begging, “Yea, go on.  Get lost, Munson.”

Groaning, he stomped towards her door, “Fine.  Fine.  I’m going.” Pleased and purring, Amanda stretched out along her bed, her head already thinking of the night to come when Eddie’s face appeared in her doorway again, “Oh, hey.  Don’t forget that you’re banging the lead guitarist and front man of the band, k?  You gotta look the part so uh-” he took in the room at a glance, “-no pretty flower prints or whatever.” “You came back just to tell me that?” His hands rested against the pale wooden door frame as he stepped back through it, “Yes.  And this-” it took three running steps before he launched himself onto the mattress and landed as gently as he could with her pinned underneath him.  Her hands caught on the tangles still knotting his hair, dragging his mouth to hers, whimpering into the wet cave of his mouth. So Eddie was an hour late to work and Amanda missed her first class.  Worse things had happened in the name of new love.

—

1990 - Winter

“Well, it was a great night!  To Mandy and the Maniacs-”  The ladies clinked their bottles together in celebration, stilted happiness filling the air around them.  The founding members of their female fronted metal band had come home exhilarated and exhausted, ready to unwind, share post-show snacks and celebrate their advancement to the Battle of the Bands finals.  It had been another grueling show but they had done what they meant to: melt the faces off the audience and get another step closer to that Big Win in the new year. 

MTV was on in the background, as it always was when they weren’t practicing or writing or recording, and the videos on Headbangers Ball were always welcome at the end of a long Saturday filled with rocking.  Rick Rachtman was talking about some up and coming band as Amanda crunched on a cheese ball, barely listening.  

If Carly was tired, Amanda was wired, her mind still on tonight’s crowd and what it was going to take to win it all in a few weeks.  Already she was in her head, planning what their set was going to be, which songs were the most likely to sway the ever growing swell of music lovers standing shoulder to shoulder when they played.  

That's when she heard a ghost, a breathing memory of the apparition who haunted her still.  His familiar cadence filtering through her television speakers jerked her from her thoughts, a voice she knew better than her own- “Holy shit.  Is that- Is that Eddie?  Your Eddie?”  Carly sat forward, the electric blue glow of the set outlining the surprise on her face.  The banishment of a certain man’s name forgotten in the excitement of said man’s picture on the television. Her beer bottle thunked to the table clumsily, “What?  Eddie?”  Amanda hadn’t said his name in over two years.  Around the time when the walls around her head and heart had gone up, and thankfully all of her friends knew better than to bring up that sensitive subject.  Or at least were willing to honor her wishes that the rocker in question never be spoken of in her presence. But fucking hell if Carly wasn’t right.  There on the illuminated idiot box that was her twenty inch screen was Eddie Fucking Munson himself and the rest of Corroded Coffin, talking to Chuck Stillman about their tour.  Answering questions for the fans to get to know them better and helping sell their metal image.  “Did you know about this?”  It was shock which filled Carly’s tone and Amanda felt a little bit guilty because of course she did.  She still talked to Steve, saw Robin from time to time, and even taught Mike Wheeler some guitar basics a year or so ago.  

When she didn’t answer, her very best good friend Carly leveled her with a sideways glance, “You did, didn’t you?” Shrugging, her go-to move these days, she grabbed the cable box’s remote and goosed up the volume.  It really fucking sucked to see how good Eddie looked, all in black leather and mesh lace, with his guitar pick necklace centered on his bare chest, tattoos barely visible but she knew they were there.  Could draw them from memory, if she really wanted to.  And his curls!  They were styled expertly, shiny and bouncy, making Amanda’s hands itch at the memory of them clutched between her fingers. Through the tinny speakers they heard Chuck’s question, “So, the people want to know, what is Eddie Munson’s favorite song?” There was a pause and if she didn’t know Eddie so well, she wouldn’t have seen it, but his eyes lost their twinkle for a second and his smile dropped the teensiest bit as he replied, “My favorite song?  That’s a great question, man.  And, uh, ya know, I wanna say something hard rocking and fast.  But honestly?  Someone to Watch Over Me by the Gershwin brothers.”

“SHUT UP!”  Carly smacked a hand into her arm, “He’s talking about you!  That night, in the park!  Holy shit, Eddie Munson, rock star rising, is talking about you, 'Manda!  On MTV!” And wouldn’t that be something, she thought, sinking back into her second hand sofa.  Him sparing the time to think about her at all these days seemed like such a shot in the dark, such a foreign concept, that she reckoned it wasn’t even a possibility.  There was no way he gave as much of his day to thoughts of her, to their time together as she did, right?  

No.  Not possible.  That he answered the basic question with the title of her favorite song, the song that meant so much to them both, didn’t mean a goddamned thing.  Not anymore. “I don’t think so, Carl.  I think you’re reading too much into things.” Sitting back, her own beer held tight, Carly rolled her eyes at friend, prickly at having her fun ruined, “What if he was?” “Huh?” “What if Eddie was thinking about you?  After these last couple of years, what if he- what if he misses you too?  It is possible.” Huffing out a derisive laugh, she tapped a finger against the nearly empty bottle of Budweiser, using the sassiest tone of voice she could wrangle when she answered, “Right.  He misses me when he’s out at nightclubs surrounded by strippers and groupies and backup dancers.  I’m sure all Eddie wonders about is little old me, back in Hawkins, when he’s walking red carpets and taking movie stars out to dinner in New York City and LA.” “You’re doing it again.”  Carly was focused on the screen but talking to Amanda, frustration thick in her tone. Equally riled up, Amanda chirped, “Yea?  What’s that?” Unblinking, Carly stared at her best friend, band mate, and roommate, “Selling yourself short.  You should really watch out for that.” Her friend meant well, she knew that, had proof of it all around her, but because her brain was fickle and memories were monsters, she found herself whispering, “Eddie said he would.  He promised me.  Said he was always gonna look out for me.” Staring down at her pinky finger, she would swear she felt his littlest digit wrapped around her own, the supposedly iron-clad arrangement made in a post-sex haze of brightly burning new love too long ago to hurt so freshly but so recently it still might bleed.  He had promised to watch over her, to change her mind and love her through it all. But when the man you loved had the chance to make his dreams a reality, you couldn’t stand in his way, right?  At least that was what she told herself late at night when sleep wouldn’t come and the moon was high above, laughing at her.  So, she watched, unflinching, as Eddie talked about burning grilled cheese sandwiches in a shitty hotel and the possibility of coming back to Indiana with the tour. She watched every shake of his head and every movement of his hands, taking them in like physical blows, wounds that would need cream and bandages and pain medication to heal up properly.  And she drank another beer, going silent since her mind refused to do the same, replaying the sentences from the tv interview on an endless looping track, trying to work out any hidden meaning that proved Carly right and her own sense of self wrong. When the programming shifted, some early morning sketch show or something, Carly said goodnight and moved off to her room but still Amanda sat there.  Was it fair to be so mad at Eddie?  Did she really have a right to the hurt and anger she was holding onto with an iron grip? As the sun climbed through the window above her record player, Armando the Wonder Cat jumped into her lap for pets.  Between scratching behind his pointy ears and patting down his back, she realized she was crying.  Sure, she was disappointed in Eddie.  In the promises he had never seen to fruition, but that wasn’t the only reason to be so upset. Because hadn’t she made promises too?  And hadn’t she broken them all?

---

Thank you for reading!  Part 4 is on the way!

Want to read more?  Please visit my Masterlist!

My Minxes:

@thatsonezesty13​ @sxlly-pxbble​ @kerri-leighjade​ @carleighsworld​ @mediocreaf​ @weird-stranger13​ @cupiden​  @sereisstuff​ @elviqs​  @ethereal-daydreamerr​  @armyangxls​ @alana-stewart​ @lonely-af-fangirl​ @darkhairedmenrule​ @b1tchbabytears​ @ravencrap-hufflefuck​  @rosegoldarti​ @boeutiful​ @atlwhatevs​ @mermaidsandcats29​  @aereth​  @drfrank211​ @ladysteddie​ @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul​ @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​ @sweetsweetjellybean​ @sammy-jo1977​ @hiscrimsonangel​

[stuckinuniformdevelopment]

@bishop-percival

(Previous) Mike frowned as Teddy ignored him. But that frown was soon replaced with an excited smile as the sword caught his attention. He went over to the counter and looked it over with childlike wonder. Miriam silently stared at Teddy as he bowed and spoke to her. When he turned back toward the counter, she crouched down and collected up the pieces of confetti that had fallen off of him and put them in her pocket. She then walked up behind Mike and pushed him out of the way. “Yeah Michael. Stop freaking hassling me.” Mike tried to resist and smacked her hand off of him. “Wh- You’re the one hassling me, you hag!” They slapped and shoved at each other a little bit before both of their attentions were naturally redirected toward the sword. Miriam seemed interested in the sword's two orbs— particularly the one attached to the bottom of the hilt. She cupped her hands around it and closed her eye in concentration. While she was doing that, Mike turned to face Teddy. "So... Have you noticed anything interesting or special about it in the time you've had it?"

When they started fighting Teddy rolled his eye and sidestepped to avoid getting tangled up in it. How annoying. Weren't they older than him?

At least their squabble fizzled out before he had to tell them to either stop acting like rambunctious brats around extremely valuable equipment or leave.

Teddy briefly watched... whatever Reverend Miriam was doing until Reverend Mike addressed him. There was a twinkle in his eye as he handed a print out of his research to him. The front page was an abstract summarizing his results while the rest was a rough draft of detailed technical jargon describing his testing process, along with spreadsheets and graphs showing raw data.

"I suspect that the blade itself is a tantalum hafnium alloy while the hilt is largely titanium diboride. The later is incredibly difficult to refine and manufacture so I'm impressed that they managed to form a relatively large amount into a solid object. And with such artistic flair at that."

"Unfortunately that means that if the sword is permanently ruined the hilt's material can't be repurposed. Or at least not with our current technology. Have we not rediscovered the process because it requires magic? Really, I'd love to see how advanced the Ormir civilization was before its collapse."

"It'll require further analysis to find the exact composition of the tantalum hafnium alloy. So far tungsten and cobalt are my best guesses for the other elements. Speaking of, both materials exhibit unusual lattice structures. Or, more precisely, they're roughly what you'd expect until you notice that there's an abnormally low amount of defects."

[metalexpanderroller]

Manufacturer of Exporter Metal Expander Roller Standard Quality at Best Price – CON-PAP-TEX

We are a “CON-PAP-TEX” manufacturer and exporter of metal Expander Roll Metal Expander Roller Manufacturer is most suitable in high-speed pulp & paper & Textile Applications it is also known as Wrinkle Removers, Bow Rollers & Banana Rollers. Metal expander roll has a hard Chrome surface which is suitable for high-speed and high-tension applications for paper industries, particularly for slitter re-winder, Calendars, Poop Reels, and M.G cylinders. On high-speed machines, it does not wear & tear so it is commonly used in place of Rubber Bow Roll. Metal Bow Roll with individual Rotating Segments. Carbon Steel Designed Bow Rollers. For more information:

Website: conpaptex.co.uk

Email id: kewinquiry@gmail.com

Mobile No: +91-7940085305

[isshof]

Jon Moss - GM Specialty Vehicles Group:

The Father of the 1994-1996 Impala SS is a legend for good reason. Alongside GM’s VP of Design Wayne Cherry and Chevy Design Group head Don Runkle, and with valuable input from the Chevrolet Design Team members such as John Cafaro and Clay Dean who were aware of Caprices being customized by an employee of Purifoy Chevrolet in Colorado and by Jon Albert who saw Rob Powers’ hot rodded Caprice in West Bloomfield, MI, going the opposite direction from him as he commuted to work in the morning and a legend was reborn because as they say, team work makes the dream work. Chevy Studio Chief Jon Albert noticed on his way driving to work another commuter heading the opposite direction each morning that was lowered and customized Caprice wagon with big wheels and no brightwork. He finally met Rob Powers and he liked it so much that he showed it to Chevrolet General Manager Jim Perkins by bringing Rob in to give Jim a ride. Perkins asked Moss to see what he could do to come up with a high performance Caprice option concept that could actually be put into production easily unlike many of the dream world concept cars made just for show.

The creation of the Impala SS concept car made from a 1992 Caprice with the police package LT1 engine. Lowered, blacked out and with more suitable wheels and wider tires, the 14 day build (with Detroit area companies Vehma, a division of Magna International, Troy Design & Manufacturing  and MSX International helping with the engine, exhaust, suspension, Chevy's iconic "bow tie" logo on the grille, trunk spoiler and emblems) was a hit at the 1992 Detroit Auto Show and at the annual Specialty Equipment Marketing Association’s annual trade show in Las Vegas, NV and as they say, the rest is history. Moss lead the SVG and associated “Toy Box” activities many like to think of as an ersatz Skunk Works, mad scientist lab, Willy Wonka R&D garage and Santa’s workshop all rolled up into one. Much has been written about him and their efforts to go that one step beyond and we are all grateful and better off for the seemingly crazy dreams of car nuts and engineers. Jon's biography with Sean Reavie is available here.

[arvindrubberindia]

Learning about Bowed Rolls and its benefits for the Paper industry

Bowed spreaders or bowed rolls comprise a central beam with a bow-shaped bow in it. Therefore, it is called bowed rolls. Whereas bearings are mounted across the entire roll. It is ideally designed for the paper industry.

[aeolianblues]

Went to block a trumpie blog and saw a ‘has it sunk in yet that we need to be doing our own manufacturing yet?’ and so it may absolutely be, but because this is maga Tumblr (what the fuck are they even doing here?) I’m going to be really petty and get uncharacteristically patriotic for a minute here and say YOU NEVER WILL BE YOU FUCKING TURDS!! YOU WILL KEEP IMPORTING FROM THE INDIAN SUBCONTINENT! YOU ARE NOTHING WITHOUT US. BOW DOWN AT OUR BROWN FEET YOU SHITHEADS. Then roll away and drop into the gutter. Then stay there. 🖕🖕

[peppermintquartz]

Original writing. Just drafting here (because I seem to draft better in Tumblr, for some reason)

-

She keeps her hands in her pockets as she is led to the garden, 35 floors up from ground level.

When the doors hiss open, Omera is waiting there in her signature shades, her turban a dull gold and turquoise today. Ming can feel the disapproving glare behind the darkened lenses.

"Where is he?" Ming asks.

"Sacred Master Sanshen is in the bamboo grove," Omera replies. "You may hand the package over to me. And then you are to leave promptly."

Ming hesitates. It will be more convenient to hand it to Omera, but it has been seven years since she saw Sanshen, and she wants to speak with him, however briefly.

Also, bamboo grove? They were on the 36th floor, for crying out loud. Everything here is manufactured and manicured, merely to make one man feel like he is special.

She's saved from answering when a mellifluous voice floated out from behind the thicket of bamboo. "I will speak with our visitor, Omera. Take the package and deal with it as seems fit."

Snatching up the little crystal orb Ming offers, Omera bows towards the bamboo and then stalks off, elegant as a sheathed dagger.

"Charming woman." Ming waits, hands back in her pockets. "How you been?"

"Well enough," says the unseen Sanshen. "I hear you have suffered a recent heartbreak."

"It was time to end it," says Ming. Her split from her ex girlfriend isn't a secret, not from those who frequent Moonrise anyway. "You can't come out?"

"I'm not done with my contemplating."

Ming rolls her eyes. "I wouldn't be surprised if you'd grown roots."

"Perhaps I have."

"You sent those men to die."

"I thought too highly of their abilities, unfortunately. Their passing has been added to my reasons for contemplation."

Ming thinks about setting a fire to the garden. It would be so satisfying to see this extravagance go up like a torch.

[anarubtech]

Bow Banana Roller: Versatile Solutions for Industry Needs

We offer consist of Banana Roller. These are generally utilized as kink remover gadgets in different enterprises and are accessible in different measurements. Further, these are also supplied with gearbox and mounting brackets, either Foot Mounted or Wall Mounted. The Bow Banana Roller is a specially designed roll that can be used to use the power of the machine to straighten out a part that has been bowed because of being struck by a foreign object or from being bent. This Bow Roll should only be used as a backup to re-straightening a part that's become bowed and never should be used to operate a machine.

Banana Roller is a compact and economical machine designed to keep the web unwrinkled and to reduce contamination. The shape of the roller is like a banana, and this shape can easily move into a tissue warp. Banana rollers run at high speeds and make excellent brakes to stop the incoming and winding rolls, while the winding speed is increased effectively by using Banana Rollers. Strong and lightened structure, gears, and worm wheels make low noise and high accuracy stable performance storage.

The most recent assortment of Rubber we have in store is:

-Rubber Expander Roller

-Vary Bow Expander Roller

-Metal Expander Roller

The presentation of our Rubber Expander Roller (Bow Rollers) relies on the accompanying focuses:

-Wrap angle

-Lead-in & Lead-out distance

-Position of the bow (Adjustable)

Our scope of Wrinkle remover gadgets serves to:

Remove wrinkles

Separate slit webs on winder

Eliminate baggy center

Control slack edges

Attempt to try and out horizontal strain across the web width

Banana Roller in Industries

They are a key component of various industries, including textile processing, plastic converting, paper mills, and other manufacturing, printing, and coating processes. They help to expand or spread material that would otherwise be difficult to feed through a machine. Bow rolls are also used for cleaning tables in the textile industry.

Exports

We export 90% of our products to Europe, America, Asia and other countries and regions. We can also design new items as per your samples or drawings. Our products have been selling well in the home and abroad markets for their reliable quality.

 Best Banana Roller by Us

The Bow Banana Roller manufactured by us is widely acclaimed for many qualitative features. The product, which has been designed to offer enhanced grip, is fabricated using premium-grade raw material.

[bush-cookies]

10 Things You Can Do With a Chocolate Chip Cookie

Chocolate chip cookies are an iconic treat loved by people of all ages, and while they are truly awesome on their own, their potential extends far beyond a simple snack. These store cupboard favourites can be the star of countless culinary creations, whether adding a buttery biscuity chocolatey twist to traditional ideas or using it as an inventive ingredient in unexpected ways. Here, we'll explore ten surprisingly lovely things you can do with a chocolate chip cookie, demonstrating just how versatile this not-so-humble cookie can truly be.

1: Dunk it in Milk

Not exactly groundbreaking, but it's a classic for a reason. Dunking in a glass of cold milk is still most folks' favourite thing to do with a chocolate chip cookie.

2: Squish Together an Ice Cream Sandwich

Use two cookies to make the perfect homemade ice cream sandwich. Just squish your favourite ice cream in between! If you want to elevate it slightly into the ultimate treat, try our recipe below. Try our recipe for triple chocolate and salted caramel ice cream sandwiches. No baking required!

3: Crumble Some Crunchy Cookie Crumbs

Crush your cookie into crumbs and use them as a sweet topping for ice cream or yoghurt. Not just for sprinkling, you can also dip or roll. These biscuit truffles are just one way to make use of cookie crumbs

4: Make Deliciously Moreish Cookie Butter

Blend your cookies into a food processor until they become a smooth, creamy spread. Enjoy it on toast, pancakes, or straight from the jar!

5: Supercharge That Trail Mix

Add some crumbled cookies to your trail mix for an extra sweet surprise.

6: Get More From Your S'mores

Replace the traditional graham cracker in a s'more with a chocolate chip cookie for a decadent treat.

7: Load Up Your Cheesecake Base

Crush cookies and mix them with melted butter for a quick and easy cheesecake base. Read the ultimate guide to making a biscuit base.

8: Stick 'Em Up Cookie Pops

Stick a pop stick into your cookie, dip it in melted chocolate, and decorate it with sprinkles for a fun snack.

9: Quick and Simple Cake Decorations

Use cookie pieces as edible decorations on cakes or cupcakes.

10: Gift Wrap It!

Sometimes it is the little things that matter and simple says it best of all. Who wouldn't love a beautifully packaged chocolate chip cookie as a gift, and it's the perfect way to show someone you care. A pretty bow or a cute little box (or both) is an inexpensive way to melt their heart. Make a statement with a single solitary cookie, or say thank you with a whole packet. Check out our range of chocolate chip cookies. You may need more than one pack so luckily we've got some great bulk buy deals! This article was reproduced on this site with permission from operafoods.com.au the “Australian Biscuit Manufacturers”. See original article:- 10 Things You Can Do With a Chocolate Chip Cookie Read the full article

[superiorsteelbars]

The Versatility and Durability of Mild Steel Plates in Construction

Mild steel plates, a fundamental part in construction projects around the world, are eminent for their versatility, durability, and cost-effectiveness. Filling in as fundamental building blocks in a wide exhibit of designs, mild steel plates offer unmatched strength and reliability, making them key in different industries. In this article, we dive into the characteristics, applications, and advantages of mild steel plates, highlighting their pivotal job in forming the assembled environment.

Understanding Mild Steel Plates

Mild steel plates, otherwise called low carbon steel plates, are level sheets of steel portrayed by their uniform thickness and smooth surface completion. These plates are normally fabricated from low-carbon steel, which contains a little level of carbon alongside other alloying components like manganese, phosphorus, and sulfur. Mild steel plates are created through hot rolling or cold moving cycles, bringing about exact aspects and reliable mechanical properties.

Characteristics of Mild Steel Plates

Mild steel plates have a few characteristics that make them ideal for an extensive variety of construction applications:

High Strength: In spite of their low carbon content, mild steel plates offer high elasticity and fantastic affect resistance, making them appropriate for structural applications requiring vigorous support.

Ductility: Mild steel plates show incredible ductility, permitting them to be effectively shaped, bowed, and welded to oblige different plan prerequisites without forfeiting structural honesty.

Weldability: Mild steel plates are highly weldable, empowering proficient joining and fabrication processes in construction projects. They can be welded utilizing different welding techniques, including arc welding, gas welding, and resistance welding, with minimal risk of weld defects.

Corrosion Resistance: While mild steel is defenseless to corrosion, proper surface medicines like artistic creation, arousing, or applying defensive coatings can upgrade its corrosion resistance, dragging out its administration life in brutal environmental circumstances.

Affordability: Mild steel plates are cost-compelling building materials contrasted with options like hardened steel or aluminum. Their affordability settles on them a favored decision for different construction projects without thinking twice about quality or execution.

Applications of Mild Steel Plates

The versatility and durability of mild steel plates make them irreplaceable in an extensive variety of construction applications:

Structural Frameworks: Mild steel plates act as fundamental components in the construction of structural frameworks for buildings, spans, and industrial offices. They are utilized as segments, pillars, and brackets to give soundness and backing to the general construction.

Industrial Machinery: Mild steel plates track down broad use in the assembling of industrial machinery and hardware. They are utilized in the construction of machinery components like base plates, outlines, and structural backings, guaranteeing the strength and reliability of industrial machinery in assorted applications.

Storage Tanks and Pressure Vessels: Mild steel plates are broadly used in the construction of storage tanks, pressure vessels, and pipelines for putting away and moving fluids and gases. Their strength, formability, and corrosion resistance make them ideal materials for containing and conveying different substances in industrial and business settings.

Automotive Components: Mild steel plates are utilized in the automotive business to fabricate vehicle frame, structural components, and body boards. Their high strength and formability make them appropriate for withstanding dynamic loads and effects in automotive applications.

Shipbuilding: Mild steel plates assume an essential part in the shipbuilding business, where they are utilized to manufacture bodies, decks, bulkheads, and other structural components of boats and offshore designs. Their strength, durability, and weldability make them ideal materials for marine applications.

Advantages of Mild Steel Plates

The reception of mild steel plates in construction offers a few advantages:

Strength and Durability: Mild steel plates give high rigidity and brilliant effect resistance, guaranteeing long haul structural uprightness and resistance to disfigurement under weighty burdens.

Versatility: Mild steel plates are accessible in different sizes, thicknesses, and levels, making them flexible for an extensive variety of construction applications. Whether utilized for structural frameworks, machinery components, or storage tanks, mild steel plates offer adaptability in plan and execution.

Ease of Fabrication: Mild steel plates are handedly created, considering proficient customization and transformation to explicit task necessities. They can be cut, welded, penetrated, and shaped with relative ease, empowering quick and exact construction processes.

Cost-Effectiveness: Mild steel plates offer cost-viable answers for construction projects without thinking twice about quality or execution. Their affordability pursues them as a favored decision for manufacturers and workers for hire looking for practical building materials.

Recyclability: Mild steel is a highly recyclable material, adding to maintainability endeavors in the construction business. Toward the finish of its administration life, mild steel plates can be reused and reused, decreasing environmental effect and moderating regular assets.

Conclusion

In conclusion, mild steel plates are flexible and solid building materials that assume a vital part in present day construction. From structural frameworks to industrial machinery, these plates act as fundamental components in different applications across various industries. With their high strength, formability, and affordability, mild steel plates keep on molding the assembled environment, giving soundness, backing, and durability to construction projects around the world. As we keep on progressing in designing and innovation, mild steel plates will without a doubt stay a foundation of present day construction works on, engaging us to fabricate a superior, stronger future for a long time into the future.