#and i know real artists will flame me for this

[theology101]

I WANT TO SHOW YOU GUYS THE SHIPS I DREW

This is the Jefferson-Class Battleship! She’s the largest class (in tonnage - the Tartarus is longer) available to the United Nations of Terra and Venus. Designed by Cai, Patel and Johnson inc. her primary weapon would be that massive Category-9 Coilgun (160 meters by 4.5 meters tungsten-titanium rounds accelerated to a significant percentage of Light speed) and 4 Cat-6 (84 meters by 3 meters) coilguns, she is a behemoth, especially with her compliment of 48 fighters and 12 bombers to bat for her in scraps.

The most important one in my story is the Moscow, commanded by Admiral Aleksandra Sokolov-Meyer, her first officer is Captain Thomas Hitch, navigations, sensors, weapons and comms officers (and also Aleksandra’s cast during her pov chapters) are Commanders Eliot ‘Ellie’ Swan, Sean Keynes, Aurora ‘Rory’ Margrave, and Alfonso Mendez.

These are the Zeus-Class Destroyer (on top) and the Himalaya-Class carrier (on the bottom)

The Zeus-Class is 375 meters of basically pure gun with a box taped on the bottom for storage. Built around a a Category-9 Coilgun (160 meters by 4.5), with a massive quad reactor in the rear, she’s what Olympian Industries is known for - focussing as much firepower as possible in as small of a package possible, hence the relatively low fighter counts, 24 fighters and 12 bombers.

The Himalaya-Class carrier (285 meters long) is, like all Monarch’s (or if you’re a grandpa and still call them Nnandi-Eze) ships are generalists. This model of Himalaya, specifically the ‘North Face’ model, has installed more weaponry and armor, with 2 Cat-4s, 2 Cat-3s and 4 cat 2s added. But her 60 fighters and 24 bombers make her dangerous.

Why did I tell you about both at the same time, why its because I wanted to tell you about the Freebird!

Commanded by the Pirate Prince Marcus St. Pierre Delacroix the Benevolent, she looks like a Zeus and Himalaya forged together, right? While not completely, the hump is different but… it pretty much is. Delacroix was a pilot under Aleksandra (Back when she was just a Captain) but was shot down into the Asteroid belt where he’s found by a family of farmers and saved.

Fyi, you can breath on certain parts of the Asteroid belt where there is artificial atmosphere, and grass etc connecting asteroids so birds can fly between

Anyways, the family are sympathizers to the Free Belt Party, which advocates for either the representation in UNTAV or complete seperation. Regardless, they want colonial rule to end. Delacroix becomes a sympathizer pretty damn quick and it takes A Single (1) incident to make Delacroix go pirate. He gets captured after causing some issues, low scale stuff, but his friends and family have enough nepotism and political power to get him pardoned. He’s being taken from the naval base on Ceres back to Earth to face formal trial (and it was planned, that he’d be absolved).

But the second he got a chance, he and some more, much more recent friends, are able to seize control of the bridge - seriously maiming his friend and long time ally Sean Keynes (“Oh I could never kill you… but I can’t have you causing problems and you need working fingers to use a keyboard. And you really won’t want to see this, so I’ll take an eye first.”) and take the ship. Where do you take it, why you take it to a Monarch Shipyard where you ‘Hold them Up’ and ‘forced’ them to graft the chasis of a mostly complete ship. Except twist! CEO Benjamin Adedeyo Nnandi or Monarch was one of the main conspirators in helping Marcus! He just told his boys to do it quick and pretend Marcus threatened them (he actually just did threaten them)

The Freebird is 525 meters long, built around a Cat 9 coilgun, with 84 fighters and 36 Bombers. With the weaponry and the insane amount of fighters lets the Freebird punch above her weightclass.

Anyways guys, what have you been up to recently? It’s been just this for me

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

It's the 2 month anniversary of this blog! Here's all the main MTXT couples to celebrate.

[nelyoslegalteam]

Hi hello, here have an excuse to talk about murdoc harfoot-brandybuck of the easterly inn <3

jaz i love you so much you KNOW i have been waiting for someone to send me this EXACT ask. how the FUCK do i explain the character i have been playing for three years now.

so murdoc harfoot brandybuck of the easterly inn is my player character from my friend group's adventures in middle earth campaign (loving referred to as the mirkwood campaign), gmed by the absolutely wonderful @potatoobsessed999. he's very much still evolving, even as we get closer to the campaign's conclusion, as he absolutely has been over the last three years, but i will attempt to describe him, is he is my absolute favorite of my (like two) tolkien ocs, and may very well be my favorite oc of mine of all time at this point.

murdoc, as his name makes apparent, is a hobbit. he has been raised by his uncles and aunt, a family of upper-class inkeepers, as the heir apparent of the family inn. before i knew anything else about who i wanted him to be, or who he was going to become, murdoc was meant to embody the idea of home. he's creature-comfort, he's hospitality in its purest form, he's the maker of stews and the finder of comfortable places to sleep and the brewer of teas. this is the absolute core of who murdoc is: where he is is his home, and who he's with are his people, and he will do absolutely anything and everything to keep it all safe.

when murdoc was about the hobbit equivalent of a teenager, his more adventurous uncle got it into his head that he too should have a great big adventure just like his drinking buddy and idol bilbo baggins, and up and moved the family inn out of the shire and to a northern corner of mirkwood.

when murdoc was about the hobbit equivalent of, say, a human eighteen-year-old, he began to have extremely disturbing prophetic dreams.

so what do you do when you're a foresighted hobbit in the middle of a famously dangerous forest whose aforementioned foresight has every last bit of you screaming that it is now your responsibility to keep this place and everyone in it safe? you join an adventuring party, serve as an emissary of radagast the brown, have a sort of falling out with radagast the brown over realizing that his boss is evil and nobody believes you yet, adopt the ghost of actual maedhros feanorion (who is possessing your best friend's sword, as one does) as your new dad, and do a bunch of arson and protective rage murder as you develop greater and greater paranoia about whether you will be able to see coming the threats you will need to see in order to keep the people you care about alive!!!!!!

some more fun things about murdoc, in no particular order:

yes the fact that his name is Like That is on purpose. he's a pretentious piece of shit who named himself. his name is extremely reflective of the fact that he is just Like That. (also his partner is a huge nerd who got way into hobbit history around the time murdoc was picking his name and it is just as cute as it is stupid)

languages that murdoc speaks, in the order in which he learned them, include: westron, fucking spider, quenya, and sindarin. he has the most perfect most annoying feanorian accent when speaking in quenya. yes, i rolled to determine this.

(in murdoc's defense, he learned quenya because he wanted maedhros to be able to speak his first language with someone, and it was something to bond over.)

maedhros helped a very afraid and traumatized murdoc begin to interface with his foresight by acting as an anchor point for him while dreaming, to help him develop greater control over what he sees in them and to use his foresight on purpose.

murdoc did use the realization that this meant that he can see maedhros in his dreams as an immediate opportunity to hug him ;w;

murdoc's foresight cannot see nazgûl. anna, my beloved gm, has used this for effect emotional and horrific.

murdoc harfoot brandybuck of the easterly inn does in fact introduce himself to everyone he meets as "murdoc harfoot brandybuck of the easterly inn"

this resulted in murdoc being put on the entire-ass council of mirkwood because everyone assumed that this was an important title and the easterly inn must be a small fiefdom

murdoc did not correct anyone about the fact that the easterly inn is very much not a small fiefdom

murdoc has a +13 intimidation, making it his highest stat. i'm not sure what stats our gm gave to @jaz-the-bard for maedhros, but we have talked about it at some point and murdoc's is apparently higher

murdoc has a feat that lets him vanish into thin air. it's not magic or anything. he's extremely not a ringbearer. he's just That sneaky.

has a rivalry with one of The Eagles^tm. over hospitality.

fire motif fire motif fire motif

his primary weapon is an enchanted dwarven bow. he shoots flaming arrows.

lover of a good molotov cocktail to solve all his problems very fast

special interests include teas, cooking, and linguistics!! likes to research all the local plants and come up with tea brews that remind him of people or places, or pair well with certain things. came up with a brew for himself that he only shares with people he trusts and cares deeply for. i do in fact have little snippets for points at which he has shared it with each member of the party.

i did once storyboard an edgy animatic for him to the killers' jenny was a friend of mine. i am still very proud of it, and lament that i cannot animate. or do art at all.

i have been playing this character through a literal global pandemic, the completion of two entire degrees, my first adult job, and literally so much other life stuff. sometimes i think about how long i've had him for and how much he's changed, very organically, in that time, and get entirely too emotional about him tbh.

murdoc operates, i would say, from a very genuine sense of care for others, eclipsed by a rather marked lack of estel. for about the whole three years i've had him, i would say i've felt genuinely none from him, and i did not think it was there.

the last time i played him however, i did.

anyhow!!!!! this post would not be complete without this lovely art of our party - i don't know that the artist we commissioned is on tumblr, but "hey can i share this?" was met with an enthusiastic "go for it!" so!! on top is my boy, and left to right down are the bearer (@thymo-leonta), déorwyn (@shadowkat2000), ríros (@jaz-the-bard, who also plays maedhros), and ioreth (not canon ioreth jdjdndn, whose player is definitely not on tumblr).

anyhow i love my party and this game and my friends and my stupid murder arson hobbit inkeeper boy so so very much <33333

and thank you jaz for literally just giving me an opportunity to talk about him lmao, get you friends who send you asks about your ocs even though they literally know so much about your ocs >:p <33

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: January 18

"Settle Down" by The 1975

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡A Sky Full of Stars♡

♡ Pairing: idol!dad!hongjoong x fem!mom!reader

♡ Genre: the fluffiest of fluff

♡ Summary: Just some sweet moments you share with Hongjoong when you and your daughter surprise him after their Coachella set.

♡ Word Count: 1.4k

♡ Warnings: If there's any warning it's that your kid has a name. I know some people don't like that. She's named after an artist Joong likes who I think has a pretty name so that's all babes.

♡ A/N: I set out to make this super fluffy summer road/beach trip fic with Joong but I sat down to write and this is what came out instead so I present to you some post-concert fluff and I hope it gives you all the sweet feelings it gave me writing it.

This can’t be real.

It’s all Hongjoong keeps repeating in his head as he steps off of the Sahara stage at Coachella. His ears are ringing, his heart’s beating out of his chest, his throat’s on fire, and he’d walk right back on that stage to keep going if he could.

It seems like only yesterday his group was fighting to debut; now they’re here, performing on a stage some artists can only dream of stepping foot on. The joy on his member’s faces. The sound of their fans screaming for them. It’s a special kind of magic he wishes he could bottle up and keep somewhere safe to treasure forever.

“Captain!” Wooyoung cheers, throwing an arm around him, “We did good?” Hongjoong looks around to see his members staring at him, his approval all that matters in the sea of praise thrown at them by staff. Hongjoong nods, wiping his face with a towel, “We did good!” Smiles perk up their exhausted faces as they drag themselves down the steps leading to the backstage area.

Stepping onto the grass, Hongjoong stares up at the infinity pool of stars that is the California sky. Just when he feels himself begin to float away, a faint tugging at his pants keeps his feet on the ground. It’s so faint that he almost questions if he felt it at all until Yeosang lays a hand on his shoulder letting him know, “You have company.” 

Hongjoong’s eyes dance their way down his leg to find a smaller nearly identical set of eyes staring up at him. All he’d done not to cry is for nothing when he sees the chubby glitter speckled cheeks of his little 2 year old smiling at the sight of him. “Olivia…” he gasps, scooping her into his arms, “What are you doing here?”

The other members gather around like moths to a flame. Of any fan they’ve ever had their niece will always be their favorite. Mingi squats down to eye level with her, pinching her cheek, “Hi, Oli. Uncle’s here.” “Oh look at these” San coos, playing with the two ponytails sat atop her tiny head, “So cute.”

Hongjoong holds her close to his heart, shaking the tears from his eyes. “Daddy cry?” she asks, touching his cheek. Hongjoong smiles, choosing to dodge the question rather than lie, “Um, where’s your mo—” “Here!” you say, hugging him from behind. You had every intention of announcing yourself to begin with but the happiness on his face seeing Oli was too adorable to interrupt.

That same happiness plays on repeat when he feels your arms around his waist. You weren’t supposed to be here. Your flight had been delayed twice and the baby was beginning to get fussy. Hongjoong had insisted you just stay home and watch the livestream. Just knowing you were watching would be enough for him but that’d never be enough for you. If you had to grow wings to fly yourself here you’d have done it to be by his side.

Not satisfied with simply knowing you’re there, Hongjoong reaches his free arm back to pull you around to his side. Time slows when he looks at you this way—like you’re one of the most precious things on this Earth. You’re one of two really, the other’s bouncing in his other arm with her fingers scrunched around his collar.

“Hey you” you beam, wiping a few rogue tears from his face. Hongjoong kisses you, soft lips pressed to yours in what has to be the sweetest, saltiest kiss you’ve ever shared. You don’t care how sweaty he is, only that you’re together. “Hey you” he smiles, his eyes narrowing slightly, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” You shrug, playing it cute so he doesn’t kill you, “I wanted it to be a surprise.” Give him a heads up so he has ample time to play it tough? Never.

“Ahem,” Seonghwa interrupts, “Does that mean you were watching and saw…everything?” The guys look at each other, suddenly mortified at their onstage antics. “Oh, for sure. We saw everything. She’s gonna be an alcoholic now” you tease just to watch their heart’s sink. Hongjoong shakes his head at them, “Shame on you. For the record, my cup was water.” 

Jongho throws Hongjoong some vicious side eye, “Water, right. Oli, your daddy’s a liar.” “Daddy liar” Oli repeats with a giggle. You dip your head down to hide your own laughter as the guys hit an equally amused Jongho with their towels. Seonghwa casually swipes the baby away from Hongjoong to teach her how to throw a few hits. Hongjoong chases them down as if he’ll never see her again, “Be careful!”

“Joong, she’s fine!” you shout after him, “As long as Hwa has her…oh, no…Mingi unhand my child!” 

“Goodnight stars and goodnight air” Hongjoong reads, flipping the final page of a children’s book, “Goodnight noises everywhere.” He closes the book and Oli cheers, flipping it over for him to read again. Propped up in his lap as he longues in a barely comfortable hotel chair, it’s clear her miniature lids are growing heavy.

“Honey, it’s late. No more Goodnight Moon. Bedtime, okay?” His voice is stern, he means business, but so does she. Oli flips the book open, her hand rubbing the first page. Her bottom lip pokes out and he knows he can’t say no to her. “Fine but one more time and then bed.”

You emerge from the shower in time to hear the story start back up again. “In the great green room…” Hongjoong starts in his bedtime story voice. You move quietly around the room, listening to the story for what’s the 1000th time for you too. As you do, you steal glimpses of them holding hands, turning the pages of the book together. Hongjoong pauses to let Oli read or poke around the pages marveling at the illustrations.

“Is bunny?” she asks, pointing to a figure sitting in a rocking chair. “That is a bunny” he cheers softly, poking his two front teeth out to mimic a rabbit. Oli copies him—it’s sorta her thing these days—making you laugh so hard you snort. “Are you laughing at me?” Hongjoong jokes, his mouth still in perfect bunny formation. It only makes you laugh harder. Your two little bunnies, twins in every way they can be. Especially in their silliness.

You approach the them, planting a kiss on both of their foreheads, “You guys are adorable.” Hongjoong leans his head back, allowing it to rest in the palm of your hand. “You are too. So adorable” he yawns, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. A blink and you miss it moment of silence passes before he speaks again.

“Did I do okay, today?” he asks, his tone more serious now, “I don’t want to…I can’t let everyone down.” “God, no. You were amazing. Look at me” you demand, cradling the sides of his face to keep his anxious gaze from drifting. “You. Were. Amazing” you repeat, “Your fans are so proud of you and your members they love you. And that little bunny down there, she loves you.”

Hongjoong looks at Oli who’s fallen fast asleep against his chest, her hand still in his. “We both love you and you fucking killed it. If anyone says any different I’ll kick their ass” you promise and you mean it. “What’d I ever do to deserve you two?” he asks, kissing your inner wrists. You lean in close to him, your lips hovering just above his, “Exist. That’s all you ever have to do, you know?”

Your lips part to meet his and he welcomes them, sipping down feelings there are no words for and pouring the same into you. “I love you” he whispers and you smile. “I love you too.” Easing the book from between them with mom-like precision, you throw a pillow on the floor and take a seat by Hongjoong’s feet. You open the book and begin to read, not to Oli but to him.

Finally relaxing into the chair, he strokes your hair and listens to the sweet sound of your voice. He balances Oli on his lap, his delicate little gem who treats him like the sun rises and sets in his eyes. He’d long ago sworn that he didn’t think he’d ever have everything. What a frighteningly beautiful realization it is that he finally does.

[leewonkyeom]

 light a flame | jeon wonwoo | masterlist

☆ synopsis

when your roommate quits his job at the coffee shop you frequent you never imagined the new guy would be hot or even your type. to make matters worse you both study law at the same university.

your friends to try to convince you to get together with him. you try to convince them you just find him really nice... but are you able to convince yourself?

☆ pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader

☆ genre:  smau, university au, coffee shop au

☆ warnings: swearing, drinking, implied 18+ content

☆ status: ongoing, updates every thursday and sunday

☆ started: 07.09.23

☆ ended: 21.03.24

main masterlist

☆ fill out this form to be added to the taglist

profiles: 1 | 2

chapters:

001: stop thirsting on main

002: i’m not a fucking rat

003: please yn it was for the vine

004: not asking for a friend, i’m asking for me

005: you’re forced to come even if minghao drops of the face of the earth

006: HE’S TALL AND HE GOT A NICE ANGLE SHUT UP

007: you can’t recognize drip even if it’s staring right in your face

008: are you trying to limit my artistic expression?

009: step aside! if anyone’s playing wingman it’s me

010: like slaying monsters?

011: “me as a baby”

012: you obviously know the worth of cancelling

013: is that seungcheol photoshopped as aang from avatar?

014: playing league of legends does not qualify as “having a life”

015: he made me stand outside the coffee shop with a “free hugs” sign

016: good luck, daredevil

017: well, i honestly think you’re both in the wrong

018: then i say spider-man is within the realms of possibility

019: i just wanted the public opinion

020: digital footprint

021: i have faith in the tiger

022: last selfie before we die and i didn’t even look good

023: vernon’s sock drawer isn’t a good hiding place

024: i’m thinking of hanging it in our shared bathroom so seungkwan can be reminded of his good deed

025: oh don’t bring judy into this!

026: staging a storm just so someone can experience the forced proximity trope

027: entering private property in 3... 2... 1

028: i’m not helping a traitor

029: all of my midnight entertainment... gone in seconds

030: yes i will be sharing... / the juices?!

031: uh oh / the ominous period

032: i will go just to prove i’m right

033: oh my god... that woman

034: it means you’re annoying /next

035: i know i’m giving zero context here, but bear with me

036: that guy only has feelings for his right arm

037: how can i dump someone i never even dated?

038: joshua says you can come if you take 10 penalty shots and do a strip tease

039: i can never look any of them in the eyes again... well, except johnny

040: ohh so he’s your super smart study buddy?

041: i didn’t know we had chan’s biggest fan right here

042:i didn’t know you were sending all that, chan. sorry.

043: just a peck

044: as real as spider-man

045: so arguably, it wasn’t even my fault

046: shut up and make out with wonwoo instead

047: special deal only for my boyfriend

048: i’m literally throwing rocks at your window as we speak

049: i’m just training you to be wonwoo’s little pet

050: i’m not having a dog ruin the ambiance

051: epilogue

bonus chapter

[grlsbstshot]

Pairing (Original Characters): Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion) Story Synopsis: R&B singer/songwriter, Jameson Lucas, is well known as a charming playboy. The latest in his line of 'loved em and left em' behavior? Imani St. Cirie, an emotive singer/songwriter herself. A common sense pulls them in opposite directions – friendships are tested, old flames resurface, and new opportunities threaten to tear them apart for good. In this industry, dreams can make or break you – but what happens when love becomes the gamble of a lifetime? Chapter Synopsis: Jameson makes a late night appearance in his ex's life after a year apart. Warnings: Smut (18+), toxic relationship, possessiveness infidelity mentions, explicit language (mild dirty talk), unprotected sex, daddy kink (very much so), unintentional breath play, dirty talking, creampie Word Count: 6.7k Divider Template: @cafekitsune Notes: The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists. There will be alternating POVs between our two leads.

Chapter I: Real Games

[ blockdt unless horny ] : wya?

imani rolled her eyes and tossed the phone back across the couch. of course jameson decided that after a year of not seeing one another, he'd reach out NOW. a year after he broke her heart and ruined their three year relationship, he decided to contact her. with three letters? pathetic. even more pathetic was the fact that she picked the phone back up...and thought of a response.

jameson lucas was like a drug to her. when they met, he was cocky but never without reason. he pursued her relentlessly and it didn't take long until they were everywhere together. the son of a r&b legend, jameson took his own path into music. they just fit each other. imani's own career was in its early stages but she took off like a rocket. soon enough, they were the first names called in their fields. especially when they used their love affair to inspire music. they took a hit of each other and it was nonstop. he knew all he had to do was get his foot in the door and she'd be gone. but imani was determined not to play his game this time. he was almost out of her system. she'd get rid of him for good now.

[ imani ] : why do you care? [ blockdt unless horny ] : i miss you. that better? [ imani ] : no. it's still not explaining what the fuck you want [ blockdt unless horny ] : if i'm looking for you and i want to see you. what do you think i want? [ imani ] : sex? got it. okay, not interested [ blockdt unless horny ] : if i wanted to fuck, i wouldn't have a problem finding somebody to do that with. i want to see you because i miss you. am i being clear enough? [ imani ] : lmfao yeah i guess you wouldn't. i'm not dumb. you want something. [ blockdt unless horny ] : you. i want you. i am literally saying what i want. [ imani ] : and why should i give you access to me? [ blockdt unless horny ] : because i'm asking? begging, really. because i love you? [ imani ] : love me? let's be fucking real, jameson [ blockdt unless horny ] : if i don't love you, i don't love nobody, mani. you not tired of fighting yet? [ imani ] : lmfaoooo you're a fucking joke. you don't cheat on the person you love. [ blockdt unless horny ] : i made a mistake. that doesn't change the fact that i love you. i know we'll never be together again because you don't trust me but what am i supposed to do with the shit i feel? [ imani ] : stop saying you love me. idk maybe you need to live with that shit. i'm doing perfectly fine without you. [ blockdt unless horny ] : okay

jameson exhaled sharply, frustrated with himself. he knew deep in his heart that getting in touch with imani had been a mistake. their relationship came crashing down after his infidelity. a night with a woman he shouldn't have been with spiraled. guilt-ridden, he had confessed the next day then spent months trying to get her back. when his efforts failed and she'd gotten a quarterback as her next man -- jameson had moved on. he'd had another girlfriend for a few months but imani hadn't left his mind. he watched every instagram post with an eager eye but it wasn't like he could avoid her. imani st. cirie was r&b's favorite lover girl. her lyrics were captions more often than his own. he could feel her scolding him with every record release but he listened anyway. the two of them played a game where they pretended not to care or notice one another...but in the dark of night, his finger always hovered over that button to call her. even as another woman lay in his bed. sometimes he fought the urge to press it but most of the time he failed -- and got her voicemail. he wrote songs for her, keeping the object of his affection nameless but their fans could connect the dots. he wasn't over her and never would be.

now his bed was empty and he allowed hope to carry him away. they were both single for the first time in a year. maybe now was the time to work it out? imani's texts quickly shut the idea down. he was losing her and any minute, she'd block him. jameson shuffled uncomfortably in the front seat of his mercedes benz. his gaze strayed up to the gates of her home, wondering if she could see him and knew how atrociously down bad he was. his phone beeped on his lap and he peered down in surprise. she responded ?

[ imani ] : now the cat got your fuckin tongue? [ jameson ] : what would you like me to say to that, imani? nothing, right? [ imani ] : it's just so funny to me. why should i give you what you want? [ jameson ] : why are you asking me questions you really don't care about the answer to? you miss me too. you want to see me too. you love me too. so why are we doing this? [ imani ] : i do want an answer. all that's true but you know it's not good for us to see each other. [ jameson ] : i know, baby. i know you deserve better than this. i just miss you. let me see you for ten minutes. [ imani ] : no. [ jameson ] : baby, please. i swear to god i'll leave after that. [ imani ] : fine. i'm at home. [ jameson ]: i'm outside

imani stared down at her phone with wide eyes, in shock as if she wasn't the one who just texted the words 'fine. i'm at home'. she dropped her phone and jumped off her couch, hands over her mouth. "shit, shit, shit." the woman muttered behind her palms. what the hell was she going to do now? she hadn't expected herself to invite him over and she sure as fuck didn't expect him to be sitting outside.

she took a second more to panic before sprinting up her stairs and down the hall into her bedroom. she tugged her t-shirt over her head and tossed it aside. Her shorts followed as she dug into her drawer for another outfit. something that said 'i'm not thinking about you, bitch! but you think i'm cute?' she ended up with a cropped sweatsuit. it showed the tiniest bit of skin and was still comfortable. she didn't bother trying to wrestle with her hair. she left it in a ponytail and practically broke her neck going to brush her teeth.

her doorbell hadn't rung but she could feel the moment he was in front of her home. an electric undercurrent made her body tense. she finished in the bathroom and forced herself to take slow, measured steps back down to the first floor. she wouldn't be seen trying to look her best for him. he was only visiting for ten minutes anyway.

she was crazy for agreeing with this. she knew she should have left the conversation alone but she couldn't help herself. everything that jameson said was true. she missed him. she loved him. she wanted to see him...and imani hated herself for it. yet there she was opening the door for him. "hey." she managed to utter uninterestedly, taking her time before she met his gaze. when she did, she could have choked on her damn spit.

to his mother and god be all the fucking glory...he was beautiful.

it hadn't been as if she hadn't seen his face since they split. he'd released an album, won three grammys for it, and embarked on a very public relationship with a co-star from that little comedic show he was doing. but seeing him up close and personal again? insane. imani grasped the doorknob tightly to keep herself from moving toward him.

freshly braided cornrows lined his scalp and met at the back of his head. she couldn't see the tattoo at the back of his neck but she knew it was there. she had traced her nails across it often enough. it was the soundwave of his first platinum single. he'd been so proud of it. he had numerous other tattoos but that was the one she loved the most. his warm, golden brown skin that she'd kissed and licked so much that she knew every inch of it practically glowed. he had shaved his beard down to a goatee. it framed full lips that could do the most devilish things to her. he lifted his long, incredibly agile, fingers to give her a wave and it broke her out of the spell she was under.

"hey. you got a timer going?" he asked her, humor evident in his tone but she was too distracted by the sound of his voice. deep, soothing, commanding. imani abruptly turned away from the door and stopped in her living room, folding her arms over her chest. the sooner they got this over with, the sooner he could leave.

"i thought you would have it since you said you were only staying for ten minutes." they both knew that he often made promises that he couldn't keep but she wanted to see how long he'd keep up with the charade. imani crossed one leg over the other as she peered at him. why did he have to be so fine? maybe if he wasn't attractive, things would be easier.

"would rather spend my time looking at you than watching a clock." he told her softly, lowering himself onto the same couch as her. as close as he could get. jameson leaned back against the cushions, settling comfortably. he didn't say anything else for a few moments, one hand patting at his chest lightly. "i feel better seeing you." he admitted lowly. "i know you think i'm full of shit...but that's true. i miss you when i'm not with you. i only feel better when i'm right here."

imani sighed softly. she could feel herself crack at the confession but she refused to go down without a fight. "you just wasted two of your minutes." her stony expression didn't hold up so she chose to look away, not responding again. she just didn't know how to. instead, she slightly shifted so she wasn't as close to him. the perfect storm was brewing between them and she had to decide if she was strong enough to withstand it. "is that all you came over here for? we both know you're just gonna get bored with me, cheat, and then leave again. quit while you're behind."

"i'm okay with whatever you want to do." jameson told her, knowing that the day was coming when she would get tired of this and cut him out for good. he'd have no choice but to let her go. but today wasn't that day. he could tell that even though she was sick of his shit, she didn't mean that they should cut things off. and being the man he was...he was glad. instead of answering her question, jameson was quiet. "but i was never bored of you. i swear."

he didn't quite know why they never seemed to get things right. he drifted away from her and then couldn't stand it so he came right back. she got pissed at him and told him to fuck off but then let him come back. it was crazy but it was them. "you know what you mean to me." he said softly, pulling his hand from his pocket to lift his hand. he brushed his thumb against her cheek, tilting his head to watch her expression. "don't you?"

when imani turned to meet his gaze, he knew it hadn't been wrong to contact her. it had been a year but the same energy was between them. he watched her try to pull herself again, try to pull the hardass out and build the wall back up between them. that was the thing about loving someone you knew like the back of your hand -- you saw everything. even the shit they didn't want you to see. "enough with the bullshit, jameson."

literally no other woman could have him open like she did. he spent years sniffing after her. and when he cheated, he spent months begging. he'd never begged a woman for anything. but he knew he'd get down on his knees for her each and every time. "i fucked you over and i regret it everyday." he said softly, pulling his hand from her. "i never loved anybody before i saw you. i can't prove to you it's not bullshit but i swear on everything...you are the love of my life."

it was the one thing he had never told her and he knew saying it shifted things for him emotionally. but damn it, he was running out of answers. "i can't breathe unless i know you're a phone call away. i can barely fucking function if i go too long without seeing you. you are everything." 

silence lapsed between them as they both processed that there was some kind of breakthrough happening. their communication had been better in bed than anywhere else but jameson knew he'd strip as many layers as he could to get down to the heart of it all. the longer they went without speaking, the more he wondered what she was thinking.

"you hurt me, jameson. you do that shit every time and I let you." she said, looking into his eyes. "i don't know why i fuckin' let you do it. but i do." she moved from her spot, positioning herself in his lap. jameson made room for her, wrapping his arms around her waist. the two fell into tandem -- as if they hadn't spent any time apart at all. imani straddled his lap, he could see the regret in her face but he couldn't bring himself to let her ponder on it. he lifted his head and pressed the gentlest kiss to the corner of her mouth. she melted against him and he heard her whisper against his ear. "just don't promise me shit this time. i don't want to hear any lies."

jameson knew he should be a better man and let her be happy with someone else. but he couldn't find it in himself. "okay, baby." what else could he say? he was a piece of shit. "just...don't give up on me." he said softly, surprising himself with how much he meant the words. "i need you. ain't no me without you." his hand pressed against the small of her back, fingertips stroking against her spine as he sighed. "my ten minutes are up, i think. give me a kiss goodnight."

there it was. she had let him just waltz back into her fucking life. folded quicker than a cheap umbrella in a hurricane. a few apologies, kisses, and touches -- imani was partially disgusted with herself. she was relieved to see she wasn't alone in her addiction though. he clung to her body like a man who hadn't been touched in an eternity even though she knew that was far from the truth. maybe she couldn't leave him alone but she could establish a set of boundaries. not lying seemed easy enough.

she sighed as he relaxed into her body. her arms wrapped rightly around his neck and she placed a kiss on his forehead. "i guess you can stay a little longer." imani slipped her hand under his chin, bringing his lips to hers. that familiar feeling washed over her just from the feel of his lips.

imani could feel him smile against her lips and she couldn't help but nip against his lower lip to settle his ego. jameson gave a lingering groan at the contact. it'd been so long since she'd touched him but every single time, it felt like coming home. "mm. mm-uh." he exhaled, breaking the kiss and shaking his head as he swiftly rose from the couch. imani went up with him, thinking quickly and wrapping her legs around his waist. "i can't stay. i gotta go." he muttered, "i promised i'd leave after ten minutes. i just said i wouldn't lie to you."

it was obvious he didn't want to go. if it hadn't been obvious from the way he kept leaning into her, his body begging for those little kisses from her -- it was obvious when he rose from the couch. he braced his hands underneath her, fingers sprawling across her ass. imani was pressed against him, the evidence of what he wanted to do pressed against her thigh. he couldn't lie to her even if he wanted to. "i'm gonna put you down...in a minute." he mumbled, burying his face against the crook of her neck.

suddenly, she didn't want to talk. she didn't want to think of the shit he'd done to her, the way he'd broken her heart. all she wanted to do was feel. That's what she wanted to focus on right now. "no, no, no." she murmured, shaking her head. "this is a promise you can break. it's okay." she placed her hand on the back of his neck. her acrylics grazed his skin -- claiming him once again. imani left a trail of kisses against his neck to his earlobe then sucked it into her mouth. "you're not leaving." she told him in a demanding whisper.

imani pressed herself to him, nails grazing the skin at the back of his neck, and he felt himself break out in chills. the slight pressure there pleased him. his arms tightened around her as he sighed softly. imani pulled back and he saw the smirk gracing her lips. she knew. she knew he was weak for her and knew exactly how to get what she wanted from him. nobody knew him better than her -- whatever she might think of their relationship, she got him in a way nobody else did. she knew exactly what made him tick and she proved it just then. jameson didn't bother to vocally agree. he just began to walk through her living room, headed to the stairs to get to her bedroom. 

"i hate your house sometimes." he huffed as he shifted her in his arms, tossing her onto his shoulder. she gave a short yell of surprise at the move, her hands pressed to his lower back as he carried her up the stairs. the couch wasn't big enough for what he wanted to do with her. "i can't even fuck you on these uncomfortable ass stairs."

"you don't think so?" she asked. "i don't know. that sounds like a challenge to me." the palm of his hand swatted towards her ass, the stinging in his palm probably not as intense as the one she felt. "a challenge for both of us to break our necks." he walked up the stairs easily, her weight against his shoulder going unnoticed. jameson didn't even bother to answer her question any further. he was sure it'd be uncomfortable but he was also sure he'd fuck her anywhere he could. it was the exact reason he walked down her hallway and took the first left he saw. it wasn't the direction of her bedroom...but it was the closest one to them.

even as the heat and tension spiraled between them, he managed to keep his senses alert enough to flip the light switch. in the brightness of the spare bedroom, jameson carefully lowered imani from his shoulder, standing with her next to the bed. for a moment as he placed her onto the bed. he hadn't been lying when he said he'd rather look at her than anything else. he watched as she struggled to get out of the sweatsuit. she tugged her arms free but seemed too jittery to completely get undressed.

jameson began to move closer...leaving her no choice but to fall backward onto the bed. she began to crawl up it, watching him the whole time. "you impatient, mama?" he asked her, a grin gracing his full lips. imani nodded, meeting his gaze. he dropped his hands to her hips, fingertips grazing against the band of her sweatpants. without a word, he gently pulled them over the curve of her ass then down legs. "me too." he confessed. before she could say anything, he was kneeling in front of her. "show me you missed me." jameson said softly, kissing her thigh.

he saw the moment it clicked in her mind what he wanted from her. her hand moved between her legs and jameson spread her thighs greedily, not wanting to miss a moment. they clicked into their typical roles when it came to sex so quickly that he was practically moving on autopilot. he talked to her like he was still her man, like no time had passed at all. imani's fingers parted her folds with ease, wetness sticking to her fingers. she let out a hushed moan as her fingers pressed into her pussy.

some games he and imani played were painful. some pissed him off. some were even amusing. but the best kind of games were the ones where they drove each other crazy. he watched her play along with him -- following his command with ease. "i forgot how pretty she gets when you're turned on." he murmured, slowly pulling his own sweatshirt over his head. jameson tossed it aside, not caring where it landed. "spread. let me see it all. make me remember." he was pleased when imani whimpered softly and did as he said. fingertips parted her folds, exposing her clit to him as her legs parted further as well.

he didn't have any charming shit to say, nothing smooth or seductive. all he knew was that he wanted her more than he wanted his next breath. so jameson descended to the bed, settling himself between her legs. his hand reached out for her own, gently grasping her fingers to pull them to his mouth. he sucked at her digits, carefully pulling each from his mouth to savor the taste of her until he tasted nothing but her skin. both of his hands came to her thighs, pulling her further down the bed and toward his mouth. jameson pressed a kiss to her clit before his tongue pressed to her folds. no sooner had he slid his tongue between her lips did he groan, happy to be home in a sense. and then he went to work.

imani couldn't believe how gone she allowed herself to be for jameson. the woman she was a few months ago would be sickened to see her writhing across a bed, doing his bidding. that thought should have been enough to make her push him away but they were silenced with the kiss to her clit. her back arched, the shock of pleasure bringing a cry from her lips.

the only thing that stopped her from pulling at those big ass ears to stop him and demand he fuck her right then was the fact that he owed her. for every moment he pissed her off or disappointed her, he owed her this pleasure as recompense.

he unwound one arm from around her leg -- pressing his fingers into her. imani lifted his head to watch as her pussy enveloped his digits, pulling and squeezing. he pressed his fingers deeper, harder -- wanting to see how she would react. eventually, he settled into a familiar rhythm. his index and middle finger delving deeply into her, his thumb lazily teasing against her ass. jameson leaned in again, closing his mouth over her clit as he ran his tongue back and forth...back and forth, timing the movement with that of his thumb. he kept it up until arousal soaked his tongue and knew he swallowed it down with glee because he groaned every single time.

her senses were already overloaded. She didn't like the power that jameson had over her. from his slightest touch, she was putty in his hands. "fuck, jameson." she whimpered. her hands palmed the back of his head, fingertips clinging to his braids, pussy grinding against his face. she wasn't going to last long and she hated that. hated him for it. "baby, wait." it hit her like a cramp to the stomach and imani jackknifed up from the bed, one hand pressed to the bed behind her to keep her upright. "i'ma cum, baby." she whimpered. before he could do anything else, her body jerked and her eyes shut close tightly.

she had prepared for him to be right where he was for a while. but it was going to be over before she knew it. jameson picked up his pace and added another finger, at her confession. she was sure he didn't even need the warning but even with her eyes closed, she could feel him watching her -- pleasure written all over her face. "let me see." he urged her own. "give me my shit."

her body jerked and imani felt him slow down. three fingers pressed into her, a thumb pressed to her clit, and another one teasing at her ass -- it was too much. her legs shut tightly over his hands as he pulled the orgasm free. it hit her hard enough to make her thigh shake. imani thrust herself against his fingers, praying he wouldn't stop. and he didn't. as much as she wanted, he gave it to her. she was breathless by the time her hips stopped arching up, begging for more.

only when she came down did she realize he was speaking to her.

"i missed my greedy pussy." "get what you want, baby. take it." "you better keep this energy the same when i get up."

every word brought a moan from her lips and jolt from her hips. imani watched as he pulled his hands free, sucked on his fingers, and stood from the bed. the two didn't exchange a word as she watched him undress. first went his shirt and then his sweatpants. she hadn't even noticed when he took his damn shoes off. his boxers followed next and...behold. a thing of fucking beauty. his dick bobbed freely, fully erect, and she had the urge to taste him. she wanted him sliding between her lips and down her throat the way he used to but she didn't move. she only watched him climb back onto the bed and settled between her legs. then he hesitated.

"fuck." jameson muttered, "baby...i didn't bring shit with me." he told her quietly. imani genuinely felt fear in the moment. fear he would pull away and get up. she wrapped her arms around his neck, keeping him from pulling away even as he continued speaking. "please tell me you have a couple here." imani parted her legs wider, pouting up at him. "you really didn't bring anything?" she repeated, still not processing it. jameson shook his head, his hands pressed to her hips as he kissed her neck and mumbled his apologies. in the moment, she really didn't give a fuck. "it's okay." she whispered. her hand slipped between them and wrapped her hands around his dick. she moved her hips forward to slowly guide him inside of her. she would think about the consequences later. all she knew was that she wanted him NOW.

jameson knew how these things went with imani. they always ended up here one way or another. he cursed himself for not bringing protection. but it didn't matter — they were both desperate for one another. he froze when she reached for him, his breath trapped in his throat at the feel of her hand. he only exhaled sharply when she widened her legs and pressed him inside.

the last time they had sex without protection had been when they were together. now, they were...well, complicated. but he couldn't deny that it felt right. it's why he didn't pull away. "you sure?" he asked her, lust making his speech slurred. even before she nodded her head, he gave a short, gentle thrust — enveloping himself in her entirely. "oh my god -- you feel so good, daddy." she whispered against his ear. "i'm daddy already? i like hearing my baby say that."

their eyes met as he eased deeper into her. imani's hands found his back and jameson fought off a smile as she replied to him. "you never stopped being daddy." she said lowly. He was incomparable to anyone else. despite what happened between them, she still could acknowledge that he was the only one that could make her feel like this. imani sealed their fate when she arched her back, lifted her hips, and told him that she needed him. jameson wanted to be wanted. he wanted to be needed. and he could tell from the sound of her voice that she meant it -- she didn't just want to get off, she meant it. she needed him.

jameson moved his hand from her hips to the small of her back, keeping her hips lifted and pressed against his own. he tested their position -- slowly pulling out. his gaze dropped to watch the movement, a groan leaving his lips as he saw how she coated him in her arousal. as turned on as he was, he still found the time to joke. "don't come so fast this time.", he teased her, his hips moving forward to fill her again. "we're just getting started."

he laughed out loud when her blissed out face turned into a frown. she opened her mouth -- likely to tell him to shut the fuck up -- and he silenced her with a sharp thrust. any insult turned into a moan. "i'm playin, i'm playin." amusement filtering into his tone as he moved his hand from her hip, fingertips gliding down her leg to grasp her thigh. jameson shifted her leg around his waist, picking it up higher so it rested against his back as he slowly fucked her. once he got her leg readjusted, he ran his thumb against her lower lip, his eyes lowered to watch where they connected. "suck."

her brow was still furrowed as they rocked together. it was almost as if she was deciding if she wanted to curse him out but she opened her mouth and took his thumb between her lips. the more precise his movements, the harder it became for her to keep his thumb in her mouth. he didn't think it was possible but it felt like she became even wetter after his command. imani playfully swirled her tongue around his finger and jameson had to close his eyes for a brief second -- lust making his abdomen clench. "shit, mani. oh my -- fuck." jameson panted, slowly pulling his thumb from her mouth. he let it trail across her lower lip before leaning in to kiss her circle his tongue around a nipple. he pressed his body to hers, hips rocking as he wedged his hand between them.

the bedroom was bright and he could see everything -- a blessing, he figured. he dropped his head, looking between their bodies, and made sure he was pressing his wet thumb against her clit. jameson pressed gently, circling there with ease. he was multi-tasking pretty damn well. he could hear his thighs making contact with hers, the squelching between them as he drove himself deeply into her, sucking and gently biting at her nipple.

"jamie. oh baby..." imani hummed, unable to focus on anything besides the sound of her pussy loudly welcoming her lover home. he slid in and out with precision, angling his hips in the exact way to drive her crazy. her moans and screams accompanied the sound of her love. "you're gonna make me -- i'ma cum again." she whimpered, locking her legs around his thighs.

"this my pussy, ain't it?" imani nodded so fast that he was sure she'd cause a sprain in her neck. "then act like it. give me that shit." he knew she was reacting to what he was doing and saying but jameson could hardly hear imani. he was in his own little world, grazing his teeth against her nipple. he kept his thumb pressed to her clit as he kept up the pace of his hips. when he lifted his head, he found that he didn't have much of anything to say. he was in a daze. he heard himself moan, unashamed of the fact that she knew how far gone he was over her.

"i swear to god...i fucking love you." he muttered, eyes drifting closed as he quickly reached out for her leg, pulling it from around his waist to extend. he pressed it to his shoulder, both hands moving to her hips to pull her onto his length harder. all pretenses of taking things slow were out the window. he was fucking her now, his thumb shifting from pressing to quick circles against her clit. "ooh fuck! daddy, i love you too. i swear." she panted.

he could feel her fighting it. she fluttered over him, shaking in his grasp. she didn't want to make this as easy as the first orgasm she experienced but jameson didn't have a problem working for it. her body shifted again with her leg on his shoulder. He picked up his pace and the speed of his thumb. "sh-iiii-t, fuck me daddy. just like that!" imani clawed at his back and tightened her walls around him. her hands grasp at his ass, firm and full in her hands.

he liked the way she called out for him. but he liked the way she told him she loved him. the words had an effect on him. he grunted, gritting his teeth as he tried to rein himself in. it sent chills up his spine and he couldn't shake the desire to hear the words again. jameson slowed down when he should have kept the same pace. "like that?" he asked imani, his hand slowly moving from between her legs and up her abdomen. "yes! yes b-baby." she stuttered. her hands left his body and found the sheets, gripping them tightly as she blinked up at him. it was like she couldn't ground herself no matter what she held on to. good. he didn't want her sane at all. jameson could tell that she wouldn't last much longer.

his other hand caressed her calf, his head turning to press kisses to her leg. he moved slowly, twisting his hips and biting back another moan. it's even better than what he was doing before. how the fuck could she do that without even trying? she made his head spin half the fucking time and he was still in awe of her. "tell me you love me again." he asked her quietly.

she didn't even hesitate to repeat it. "i love you, baby." mani hissed. "i love you so fuckin' much." her eyes shut and she seized so hard that it was almost as if her body froze. she didn't get to warn him that time. her back arched and her eyes fluttered shut. he could feel her holding her breath. he didn't slack up, lifting his hand to slap down against her clit. her body flinched but still, she didn't release her breath. jameson dropped her her leg from his shoulder to give her a moment of rest. "breathe, mani." he commanded. no sooner than he spoke did he feel her let go. she inhaled sharply, whimpering and moaning out as she did so. nobody could tell him this woman didn't belong to him. the evidence was in the way she let him have his way and her essence covering both their thighs.

she moaned and convulsed around him, wringing a groan from his throat. jameson lowered his body to hers, kissing imani deeply. his tongue slipping between her lips as she clung to him. it was his turn to collapse under the pressure of pleasure. "how you want me, baby?" he asked her between kisses, his release nearing the more he pressed into her. she shook her head as if she didn't understand him and jameson held off with a grunt. "where you want this nut, mani? tell daddy." he was asking for permission and holding off until he got it. even if it killed him.

her voice got caught in her throat and finally, she managed to croak out a response. "inside." one word, the last word she should have said to him. they both knew that. she soaked his dick, the wet spot under them expanding each time he pressed into her. it practically spurted from her. she was spent, he knew she had very little left to give him so now it was time for her to take.

her hands lifted to frame his face, her lips pressed to his cheek, and jameson allowed himself to relax into her. he felt the thrill of lust race down his spine, pulling back only to bury his face in the crook of her neck. he thrust into her roughly, his body losing the sensuous sense of coordination he'd used to get her off. there was no focus or gameplan, desire was driving him now.

he whispered words against her neck, mindless praise about how good she felt. how beautiful she was. how much he loved her. he whispered until the words turned into moans. his hips shuddered and then he came. one hand against her hip, the other over her head -- clenched around the sheets. jameson sagged against her, pressing kisses to imani's shoulder as his hand caressed her hip.

post-nut clarity was a bitch. she had given the man permission to do what he wanted with her body and only now -- when he sagged against her -- did it hit her. her unfaithful, untrustworthy ex had come into her home, hit her with some bullshit about love, and she fell on top of his dick. he breathed heavily against her skin, sleepily pressing kisses to her neck. as much as he pissed her off, she ran her hand up and down his back on instinct. "i really do love you." she heard him say.

despite the fact that they exchanged 'i love you' several times while fucking, it took coming on his dick a few times to remember that she didn't believe him anymore. "mhm." she hummed, patting his shoulder. "i gotta clean up." jameson took the hint and pulled out, surprising imani when he placed his hand against her abdomen. "stay here. i got it." she was silent as he left the room, not even watching his ass as he walked away. she was disappointed in herself. even though her thighs and pussy ached, her clit practically tingled, and her eyes felt heavy with exhaustion -- was it worth going on this damn rollercoaster with jameson again?

he returned to the room with a wet towel. neither of them said a word as he went through the motions of cleaning between her thighs. he even rolled her out of the wet spot that she had been unable to escape. she expected him to take the same care with himself but he didn't. once he was done with the towel, he tossed it aside. the air between them had changed. she could feel it and knew he did too.

"mani." "get out." "...baby, we don't have to do it like that. we can start over." "i don't want to start over with you. i wanted to cum and i did that. so now you can get the fuck out of my house."

imani watched the words impact him and knew he was trying to decide if he believed her or not. she slowly sat up, hating that her body still trembled while she was trying to be strong. "get out, jameson." part of her was pleased that he seemed to give up in the moment. she watched him redress mournfully. they didn't trade words. he was fully dressed and she still sat on the bed, undressed.

"i'll call you." "don't bother."

despite the heat in her words, jameson still leaned in to kiss her. she let him do so, telling herself it was easier than to shove him away. when he finally turned to leave the room, imani let her mask slip. she fell back onto the bed, breath shuddering. she had done the right thing. fucking him was a mistake but she could bounce back. she didn't have to let him back into her life anymore. that chapter of her life was over.

We hope you guys like the start of Neon Lights. If not, please keep it to yourself. No, I'm kidding. Constructive criticism is very welcome!

[starberry-cupcake]

Here I am again, hoping this silly recap brightens your day a little bit, I'm giving you a gentle hug and a mug of your favorite warm beverage ☕

previously, in harrowcita del 9:

this happened

I somehow predicted @lady-harrowhark's tshirt in the one before that also, it was very funny, in case you missed it

CHAPTER 48

we're doing just one chapter again because this one was Eventful, fam

last we knew, abby pent was trying to lorraine warren the ghost out of harrowcita's bubble

my running theory was that the ghost was commander wake aka allegedly gideon's mom (none of that is in any way confirmed yet)

and ortus was about to say something

I said it might be poetry and, guess what?

I WAS RIGHT

you go, ortus, you recite that poetry

abby apparently takes that as a cue to do something and thinks ortus has too much faith in her

but ortus trusts her, there's a lot of polycule moments in this one

the sleeper/waker/slasher allegedly gideon's mom unconfirmed absolutely does not give a fuck about any of this, she's slaying them all with her "baggy orange suit and gun collection"

I need the suit to look like this so bad

harrow starts making constructs but killer bae starts turning them into ash in seconds

I mean, I know we need harrow to live and this woman is not supporting that idea but damn, she looks cool af

if you fought the emperor at any given point, amanda (I'm calling her amanda for now, I'll elaborate later) how did you lose?????

ortus is harmed, so harrow has to continue with the recitation in his place

so harrow continues to recite the nonius poetry, while abby chants in the background and everyone else waits while bleeding

it's a very involved artistic performance that we've got going on over here in canaan au river bubble

sleeper/waker/slasher/alleged commander wake alleged gideon's mom aka amanda (according to me) shoots harrowcita

but then abby is lifted in blue flames and seems to be holding an invisible book and everything gets all vib-ey

these are the exact vibes I'm picturing

(not because I have a print of that in my room)

so harrowcita is saved from getting shot in the head by a man with the Ninth uniform and a very stellar use of the blade

AND YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE WHO IT IS

IT'S ORTUS'S BLORBO FROM HIS SHOWS!!!!!!!!

matthias nonius is a short king who is surprised to be speaking in meter but is very happy to be here to defend the Reverend Daughter and fight like an expert killing machine

WHERE WAS ALL THIS FIGHTING POWER WHEN IT CAME TO KILLING THE EMPEROR

but not only is matthias nonius 10/10 at fighting (as advertised), the shrine ortus has in his head for him is helping to even the playing field with the waker/sleeper/alleged commander

she can't shoot anymore

"I killed wizard's filth like you all my life. I killed them with guns, and bombs, and knives, and gas, and when I didn't have any of those I just got in real close and put my thumbs through their fucking eyes. You can flick that little skewer around all you like, boy. I'll choke you with it"

SHE'S INTENSE, we can be certain that the Harrow Only Notes were hers

"I certainly hope you're a fighter. God knows you're not a debater"

you guys I'm a certified mati nonius fan right now

ortus is drawing little hearts in his poetry book and writing Ortus Nonius in it

"If all of her cavaliers were this excited for death, she was definitely the problem"

they just love you too much, harrowcita

so mati nonius and waker/sleeper/alleged commander have the most intense and entertaining fight ever

because lyctor fights are weak and boring

but this, this is cinema

harrow thinks that, if gideon had been there, she would have loved the fight but also she'd be terrible at running commentary of it

I disagree, gideon's running commentary is one of the things that keep us together as a society

"In life she must have had few, if any, equals. Her people—whoever they had been—must have cherished her as their finest champion."

gideon got some great fighting genes from all around, if my theories prove right

I mean, if her people are the people I'm thinking, they still have posters of her, so she must have been a big deal before she crashed in the ninth

SAD SHE DIDN'T KILL DR REVEREND EMPEROR JOHN THOUGH

BUT THERE'S STILL TIME FOR THAT

LIKE AN HOUR

harrow says mati nonius is "a poem" which is very nice of her to say

you go, short king

there's a lot of blood happening, also, which could be encouraging, since before this, the waker/sleeper/alleged commander wasn't bleeding at all

the room changes to become a ninth chamber and alleged commander changes clothes from the star trek orange suit to a different yet still orange getup and a golden mask

ortus's shrine in his head built for mati nonius is rewriting the possession

because nothing can pull you from the depths of despair as fast as your favorite blorbo

"My master in life was revenge, my mission is one of—Goddamn it, I'm not going to start talking like this"

more points for the gideon's mom theory

protozoa and ortus are now communicating telepathically, they are starting to put aside their rivalry and finding out they have a lot in common

enemies to friends to lovers speedrun

mati nonius loses his sword and goes feral

protozoa throws his cunty seventh rapier towards him, mati nonius catches it and ends the waker/sleeper/alleged commander

it all looked incredibly cool

once the enemy is partially defeated (let's remember she's supposedly tethered to an object that I think is gideon's sword), the body horror starts falling from the walls

it's described as "sausages flung from a height" which is...quite the thing

like, I get what that sounds like, but also, maybe I didn't wanna know

harrow looks at the face of the waker/sleeper/alleged commander and says it's the woman from the poster of the shuttle

YASSSS GETTING CLOSER TO MY THEORY

like, I still don't know if the woman from the poster is commander wake or if she is indeed gideon's mom, but I'm going all in on this theory

now we have a little intermission in which everyone is waxing poetic about everyone else

this is the canaan house we always wanted to see

protozoa is giving heart eyes to mati nonius, mati is giving respects to harrow, ortus is saying he wants to write a poem about abby, magnus is telling ortus not to flirt with his wife as a joke but ortus looks mortified

and abby says ortus did most of the job but she also points out she corrected some of his spelling

which might have been the biggest mistake in magnus's and abby's lives because they just destroyed their polycule

you can't treat the ninth like that, fifth, they take it personally

but ortus is vindicated because his oshi, his favorite blorbo, his biggest hero, tells him nice things

harrowcita goes to check on the ghost corpse of the waker/sleeper/alleged commander and finds some tags

one of which says AWAKE

I THINK THAT'S MAYBE A. WAKE

AS IN COMMANDER WAKE

and I'm naming her amanda, as previously established

it would go well with the ancient tumblr meme

the prophecy

sure hope this isn't the famous alecto everyone keeps mentioning because it'd ruin my prophecy

abby tells harrow the only way to get rid of her for good is to destroy the object to which she's tethered to

which I suspect might be gideon's sword, so fuck all this

we're meant to lose gideon and her sword??? absolutely not

let the woman kill the emperor instead

ALSO

surprise! mati nonius is besties with gideon the first

now, for someone who was sold out to be super serious and not an extrovert, gideon the first knows EVERYONE

he knows mati nonius, he probably also knows, to some degree of intimacy yet undetermined, the commander, he might be somewhat related to our gideon

the man is everywhere

basically, mati nonius and gideon the first had the same speedrun friendship that gideon had with camilla

they fought each other once and one of them thought "you're friend-shaped :) "

so, mati nonius is willing to go help gideon the first with the beast

because, as we have previously seen, no other lyctor is currently doing what they were supposed to

so, ortus says he'll go with mati to help gideon the first

abby and magnus want him to go with them to be forever happy in their polycule, but it's too late

abby has insulted his spelling and magnus has made him feel uncomfy with his joke about the flirting

HOWEVER protozoa has told him he actually likes him AND has quoted poetry HE WROTE HIMSELF

enemies to friends to lovers to soulmates

martita, who was there the whole time, ties her sword to her broken hand and says she'll go with them

martita is actually cool for a second house person

judith, you didn't deserve her

NOW THERE'S A PROBLEM

A BIG ONE

if harrow doesn't go back to her body, she'll get lost and lose her mind in the river

if she does, though, she's gonna kill gideon for good

harrowcita has a crisis and a breakdown

(and also stops for just a second to remember gideon rolling up her sleeves)

magnus compares the situation to a breakup he had with abby one time, which I don't think really encompasses the gravity of this situation, but ok magnus, it sure is similar

I mean, the breaking up part maybe but the level of gravity of the situation? idk man

I'm sure breaking up with abby felt this dramatic to you but...it's a little different

abby and magnus leave, telling harrowcita that jeanne said to tell gideon "hi" if harrow sees her first

which is super cute of the kid tbh

so, that leaves us with real!dulcinea

who is still here because

1) much like her lyctor counterpart, is very resistant to dying for good

2) she's determined to get vanished into nothingness and disappear into the very essence of existence, which I think sounds pretty cool

"The Seventh says nothingness is the only truly beautiful thing anyway, so nyah"

3) also: "Actually, I've got something to tell you"

I SURE HOPE IT IS A WAY TO SAVE BOTH GIDEON'S AND HARROW'S LIVES

FINGERS CROSSED

and that's it for this chapter!!!! next time, I'm expecting more gideon and yandere twin antics!!!

[baby-tini]

Dabi thinks you ran away... when really, you got a tattoo dedicated to yours truly.

TW: implied kidnapping, Dabi gets a little rough with reader

He thought he told you too be a good girl, behave for him. He told you he'd be back in a couple of hours, it wouldn't be long... so why the hell did you run, you've been so good for him recently, so why the sudden change, hm?... unless, no.. you weren't kidnapped, no one knows your here but Dabi and you of course. So that means you did run... you ungrateful little bitch, after everything he's done for you... ooh you're gonna get more than a well-deserved ass whooping, he'll make sure of it. But then he hears the door open and he's shooting towards it and sees you walking in.

"Where the fuck were you," he grabs you up by your arm. "After all the shit I do for you, you fucking run from me," he shakes you by your shoulders and his pupils dilate. Coal swallowing up cobalt whole. As he continues to ramble on- you kiss him, to shut him up. It takes a moment for him to retaliate, grabbing your hand in his fist to pull you closer, shoving his tongue down your throat as he grabs hold of your throat. Pulling back a little- you turn your face to the left and he kisses your cheek.

"Didn't runaway Dabi, promise... I got something for you.." He sneers at that, "don't lie to me, what did you do, huh? Bribe some fuckin' heros or somethin'." You shake your head at him, pushing back against his chest. Stepping around him to go into the kitchen, grabbing yourself a drink before walking back over to Dabi and wrapping your arms around him, burying your face into his chest, rubbing your nose up and down his clavicle.

"I got somethin' for you, I didn't runaway... I just got it done today." You pull back from him as you look into his eyes, big and glossy with a fat pout. He tilts his head at you, rubbing his thumb on your bottom lip, pressing down on it, he swirls his thumb around your tongue then pressing down on it as your spit drips down your chin and kisses your neck, "show me then."

You grin up at him, "okay, close your eyes then.." He rolls his eyes before backing away and closing his eyes. You let a sweet little giggle bubble from your lips as you turn around, your back facing him. Pulling up your shirt and allowing it to slip off your head you toss it the floor. Revealing the tattoo on your lower back, just above your ass.

"You can open your eyes now," he does, moving closer to you. His eyes landing on the tattoo, It's cute and holds meaning for you both, It's a reasonable sized heart surrounded by blue flames with the word "Babydoll" written inside the heart. Ahh, he sees what you've done, his blue flames surround your heart and he calls you babydoll all the time, you always do respond real well to that pet name. Then it hits him, "where the fuck did you get the money for this, hm? You fuck the tattoo artist and you better pray I don't find him."

Shaking your head at him, "It wasn't a guy Dabi... a female friend of mine who owns the shop owed me a couple favors and before you ask, no, I didn't tell her where we are, she didn't even ask.. I promise." He bends you over the table, feeling the tattoo through the translucent saniderm. Then sticks his tongue in his cheek before he huffs out, "I'm still gonna punish you for leaving-" he feels you tense "-but... not as severely as I was originally going too... plus I just found my new favorite thing to cum on."

The tattoo looks something like this just a little bigger with "babydoll" written in the heart.

[juniperdugong]

Couple Costumes Maknae Line ver.

What you guys would wear as a couple on Halloween and how they react!! || 95s || 96s || 97s || Maknae line || A/N: I tried to make these examples as inclusive as possible, if you don't like that THEN GET OUT! Also, the characters or costumes I mention DO NOT correlate to the boys' personalities and this is all just for some silly Halloween fun! I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE ART, all credit goes to their respective artists!

Seungkwan Sun & Moon/Doraemon

He's another one who thinks it's silly at first but puts up with it because it's you! Really, for such an extrovert who loves being a comedian, he tends to get embarrassed a bunch. But as it goes, he is willing to do anything for love—of course with his own "professional input."

He runs the show in terms of what y'all are picking. He needs it to be a good mix of funny but cute ALWAYS. I see a small argument as you guys go back and forth on what to wear and how it should look. But ultimately, if you really pushed for it... he would go with what you want because he's above fighting over costumes (sometimes)

He could settle for a simple sun and moon costume, he is after all the brightest sunshine boy to exist. But it's fairer to say that y'all would end up going with a childhood favorite comedic character and who better than Doraemon! He would adore this idea up and down and out! Of course, he's gonna be Doraemon and you're going to be Mii-chan or Noramyako... let's be real he wouldn't let you get the chance to steal the Doraemon spotlight from under him.

Vernon Sarah & Wirt/Adventure Time

Go with the flow all the way~ Which is to say he'd love to dress up with you and go with whatever ideas you have for him in terms of costume. He doesn't play into it as enthusiastically as others would but definitely is supportive through and through, constantly pushing you to challenge your ideas of what the costume should be. Very much the type to be like "What were you originally thinking?" if he notices you trying to tone it down - because despite what people may think he is very expressive, especially through fashion (as we know)

If he did give any sort of input or inspiration forward I definitely think he would be going for some sort of cartoon or comics, he's mentioned Hellboy before so I feel like that's a good route, I can also see X-men being a thing. But I'm a cartoon nerd at heart and OG carats know he used to rave about Adventure Time so I can definitely see him bring Simon & Betty to the table, maybe Marshal & Gary, perhaps a Fin & Flame Princess, or Jake & Lady. I'm a sucker for the idea of y'all as Wirt and Sarah from Over the Garden Wall though, like would die to see him in the vicinity of that show.

Dino Morticia & Gomez/Scream

He is 100% the type to vehemently refuse, but as soon as you give him even an ounce of that sulky attitude, he changes his tune and is in for whatever you want. Such a lover boy, honestly. It's getting on my nerves how fast I see him change his mind for you tbh. If you actually get mad I feel like he would go off the rails and in a frenzy get a bunch of costumes as revenge/malicious compliance? In short, he gets mad at you for being mad but does what you want anyway... Yeah.

He's so Gomez Addams coded, I'm sick! Also you guys as the power couple of the Addams family? Yes, puhhhlease!! It's insane how much y'all would rock that shit. Down and out winning the costume contest, for sure! But I also see him turning down the idea if he doesn't know the movie... In that case, I feel like even if he hasn't seen Scream he would be down to do Ghostface. Not only would you guys look hot but he doesn't have to wear different makeup and I feel like that's a win for him in his book.

A/N: A day late but it's better than nothing! The jjk fiends will have to wait till tmrw for the official end to the Halloween event with a Gojo fic lmao

Please Reblog and Comment if you enjoyed ! (They act as power-ups for me)

Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda @porridgesblog

[dashitsxx]

i'll wait for your love | gojo satoru x fem!reader | (I)

summary. If only you had given attention to the emotions your boyfriend felt in your relationship, it would have never reached to this point.

genre. angst. sfw.

word count. 1.4k

warnings. modern au. messy plot. in an established relationship. toxic relationship. toxic!gojo. mean!gojo. toxic!reader. prob workaholic!reader. inconsiderate behaviour. mentions of actions of neglect/abandonment (reader). invalidation of feelings (reader & gojo). fighting. mentions of past arguments. cursing. yelling/shouting. a bit of egoistic behaviour (reader). miscommunication. abrupt toxic break-up. party. light drinking.

disclaimer. Please note that this work is entirely fictional. It is not intended to condone, glorify, or encourage any form of violence, illegal activity, or harmful behaviour. All characters (credits to the manga artists), scenarios, and events are products of the author's imagination and/or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or real events is purely coincidental. The purpose of this work is to entertain and provoke thought, not to promote harmful behaviour.

notes. ngl, i love ariana's eternal sunshine :(( it's her best album, i fear! her songs are so pretty especially this one--but i might have probably used the painful interpretation in this song, but i kind of didn't like the plot i thought tho... but anw, have fun!! also, there might be a possibility of continuation of this one-shot. not sure about it yet :))

"You know what? Fuck you," Satoru cursed at you aggressively as he stormed out of the living room. Your jaw dropped, taken back by what your partner said. Did he just curse you? He did. He just told you to go off. You feel your blood boiling, you cocked your jaw as you pursued his steps to the bedroom.

You push the door open forcefully as Gojo sits on the bed with his head in his hands.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You questioned him firmly with crossed arms. However, he didn't give any response to you while you waited. Annoyance soared through your body as you spoke in the same emotion you were currently feeling, "Do you have a problem with me? Talk to me, Gojo. You are really pissing me off!"

A huge snort left Gojo's lips as he lifted his head, tilting it in the process. " 'What's wrong with me?' That's what you are asking? God, Y/N," he vexes at you. This time, your expression transforms into confusion, which makes your boyfriend feel exasperated. "You really don't know?"

He turns his head away from you while your expression remains unchanged. "It's always like this, isn't it? You don't even know…" A sudden pang shoots through your chest as you hear a trembling tone in his voice. What does he mean? You wonder. What have you done wrong? You walk closer to him but keep a certain distance. "Please, Satoru, talk to me."

Another snort leaves his lips and looks up at you, behind his bright ocean eyes were burning in rage red flames. He was angr—no, furious.

"You are so unbelievable. I can't even imagine why I am still dating you."

Your current emotional state was abruptly replaced by a look of shock, causing your mouth to hang open and your eyes to widen. The corner of your lips twitched as you exclaimed, "Why are you getting so angry at me for no reason? What's wrong with you?" Your voice rose in volume as you spoke.

"For no reason?!" Gojo stood up abruptly, deathly glaring into your eyes. "I am fucking infuriated because of you!"

"Then, what the hell did I do? I have never done anything wrong!"

"Yes, you did!"

"What is it?!"

"You abandoned me!"

Pain flashed through your eyes as the tension brewed more bitter in the atmosphere. Stinging silence surged between the both of you, but a heave of breaths sounded in the room. What did he mean?

"I—w-what?" You stutter, yet your boyfriend sarcastically chuckles. "Remember the time when I booked us for dinner? I waited for 2 hours, but you never came. Why? Work. Oh, how about the other time when I asked you to pick me up? Another 2 hours wasted, again. Why again? Work again! What a world record!" His hands turn into fists as veins pop off underneath his skin.

"Also, the time when I fucking needed you the most because I was going through something—where were you? Over at the club, having fun with you coworkers and just getting fucking wasted, just for me to bring you back home." There was a bitter taste present in his voice.

You shake your head as you approach him carefully. "I-I never mean—" But he cuts you off and dares to continually speak.

"By the way, I love the part where you just went batshit crazy on me for no reason last week! I love the time you stormed out and ignored me for the whole day while in the same house. I love it, really. Now, who is being unreasonable between us?" Gojo gives you a full hand clap as if you have achieved something innovative. A puzzled expression was displayed on your face, you didn't know how to react or what to say. You didn't know Gojo was feeling this way, well, he should have told you sooner then.

You opened your mouth shakily and asked, "Why didn't you tell me before?"

A loud, ridiculing sound escaped Satoru's lips. "It's because you never listened," he gritted through his teeth. This time, you rolled your eyes. "I would have listened if you had told me sooner."

He placed his hands on his waist, making a mocking face and said, "Well, I tried! And you never did! Because you are so focused on your stupid work!" You noticed his voice raising in volume and his words made your blood boil hotter. "Stupid work? I work because I want us to live a life where we do not have to worry about money! I work for us to have food on the table! Are you not proud I do that for you, for us?!"

"I don't even give a shit about the money!"

"But I do! I want to live a comfortable life!"

"But how about me? Have you ever thought about my feelings, Y/N?! My feelings."

You clamp your mouth shut and bite the insides of your cheek, unsure what to say. The once-forgotten silence lingers once again. A sudden urge to escape emerged in you and honestly, you were tired of this arguing with Satoru. With that, you let out a defeated sigh.

"I don't want to talk anymore, Satoru. Come on, let's go to bed. We can talk about it tomorrow morning," you attempt to persuade him, yet your boyfriend widens his enchanting eyes in disbelief. He couldn't believe you.

Satoru gave a sarcastic laugh as he mutters the word, 'unbelievable.' This only made you frown as you walked closer to him. You reach your arm out to touch him, but before you are even an inch closer, he aggressively slaps it away. Your jaw dropped open at his action and this time—something in you snapped.

Shouts after shouts echoed in the room, bursting in anger. Words were thrown against each other. The stress accumulated from the relationship and work got the best of you.

"I'm done with you. I'm fucking leaving you," Gojo walks out of the bedroom and you sit down on the bed, placing your head in your hands. "Go on then, like I care." You utter under your breath. You were so exhausted and your throat was feeling sore because of the yells you voiced out a while ago.

A huge bang reverberated throughout the entire house, which indicated that your boyfriend left the house. You lift your head before a tired sigh escapes your lift. You didn't want to deal with all the stress you are currently feeling instead you brushed it off by settling yourself into bed. You figured that Satoru would be back in the morning.

However, you were wrong.

A year later...

You take a sip of your wine as you give a huge grin towards the capturing camera, flashing brightly in your direction. You giggled as your friends cracked a laugh. Conversations continued before you informed them to leave for some breeze.

There were some hazy-looking objects as you tipsily walked, the wine glass being supported by the hold of your hand. It took you a while to find a room with a balcony til you encountered an open door. Currently, you were invited to an event hosted by your company in a 5-star hotel. You were definitely enjoying the night you deserved. However, you got a bit carried away with your alcohol intake.

Your heels clack against the floor as you enter the empty room before proceeding to the balcony. You sigh in contentment once the wind brushes your face, your hair dancing with it. You lift your head up to stare at the gleaming light between the vast ocean of darkness and luminary clusters. The moon had a very light shade of blue around its rim as your eyes continuously gazed at it.

You leaned your arms on the railings of the balcony. No matter how you try to push them to the back of your mind, even the celestial body reminds you of him. That darn white and blue shade, you curse.

Nevertheless of your daydreaming of missing him, progressive footsteps vibrate through the ground, which you had not given attention to.

Until they spoke, "Y/N."

Your eyes widened at the familiar voice behind you as you turned your body to find the source of the voice you were now facing upfront. A disbelief expression replaced the tranquillity you felt a while ago. You feel your body nervously shake at the figure in front of you, not in fear but in anxiety. You shakily move your mouth as you utter the name you have never attempted to leave your lips.

"Satoru."

all dividers are from @/cafekitsune, thank you <33

[hbyrde36]

for the @steddiebang2024

It's Only Forever

Labyrinth AU | 45K | Mature

Posting October 2nd, 2024 out now, here on AO3

Author: @hbyrde36 • Hbyrde on AO3

Artists: @penny00dreadful & @SissayeRys on x

Betas: @penny00dreadful and @hitlikehammers

↳ Snippet below the cut!

A riot of dark, unruly curls fell around a pale, pretty face. His deep brown eyes were lined in charcoal, with a silver shimmer painted artfully above, accentuating their already otherworldly beauty. He wore a top of leather armor, like something straight out of medieval times, or one of Dustin’s fantasy novels, and skin tight pants that looked buttery soft, hugging the contours of his hips, calves, and thighs, as if they were painted on, drawing special attention to a certain rather prominent attribute that had Steve looking quickly away, his cheeks positively flaming. Slung over it all was a long cloak that glittered in the dim light. The color so dark blue that it was almost black, with a high fluted collar.

Steve swallowed hard, feeling suddenly lightheaded, like he was about to pass out.

“W-who are you?” He asked.

“You know who I am.” A deep, husky voice emanated from the stunning figure’s throat. “After all, you are the one who called for me.” 

“The Goblin King?” Steve's mouth fell open, his own voice full of doubt and disbelief.

Not only for the fact that none of it was supposed to be real. It was just a stupid game, wasn’t it? But shocked too because goblins were meant to be small, grotesque, monstrous creatures, as far as he knew, and none of those were words he’d use to describe the walking wet dream who’d just broken in through his little brother’s window. 

The Goblin King’s plush lips spread into a wide grin. 

“Not what you were expecting?”

[podcastenthusiast]

"Here should be safe to set up camp," Geralt says, scanning the treeline with his eyes in that odd witcher way. Like he's seeing much more than a mere mortal could.

"Thank the gods," sighs Jaskier, who's been really starting to regret skiving off those physical fitness courses at Oxenfurt.

"Get a fire started while I tend to Roach."

"Oh Geralt, I'd love to, I would. Truly it's colder than a sorceress' shapely—"

"Jaskier."

"Well, as they say: you can lead a bard to timber, but you can't make him—"

"Just do it, Jaskier."

"I don't know how! All right? I've never built a fire in the middle of nowhere before! It's not one of the seven liberal arts, and I much prefer my fires stoked by comely barmaids in taverns."

Geralt looks at him for a long moment. It's a complicated look—frustration and amusement and a hint of regret. Mostly it's a look that says Jaskier is an idiot for joining him on the Path.

"Right," Geralt says slowly. He begins building the campfire himself.

"I imagine they teach wilderness survival to baby witchers at witcher school."

Geralt looks at him again and there's something different in his expression. The ghost of a smile? Jaskier doesn't quite know how to read it.

"Kaer Morhen," he says. "And yeah. Something like that."

"Oh?" Jaskier has to rein in his enthusiasm, his curious questions. Geralt so rarely reveals anything personal about himself or his past. Not that Jaskier has been forthcoming in that regard either. They live in the moment, day by day, but some context would help his creative process.

Besides all that, he genuinely wants to get to know Geralt a little better.

"Vesemir took me out into the forest one day. Gave me a knife and left me there for a month."

There is no bitterness in his words. If anything, the witcher sounds...almost fond. Nostalgic. Proud of his younger self for overcoming the challenges his mentors set before him.

It takes a moment for the true meaning of that to sink in and, once it does, Jaskier is horrified. His own parents weren't great, but even they would never simply abandon him.

"He just— like as a test— what—?"

"Real eloquent, bard. I doubt he had any choice. Probably wasn't even supposed to give me anything."

"How old were you?" he demands, unsure if any answer will make this revelation less abhorrent.

"Six? Seven? Maybe eight. I don't know." Geralt makes a gesture with his fingers and the pile of wood beneath his hand sparks with flame. "Not old enough to have learned Igni yet."

He can picture it, too, so vividly. Curse his dammed artist's imagination. Geralt, just a kid, alone and scared and definitely cold—because no one bothered to teach him how to start a fire.

"Stop it," the witcher snaps.

"What?"

"Looking at me like that. I'm fine. I was fine back then. Wasn't so bad at all compared to the Grasses. Vesemir came back for me like he said he would. I survived the trial—no, I didn't just survive; I exceeded all expectations, which is why they..." The witcher trails off. Takes a breath.

All of that... It's quite a lot of words for Geralt. Honest words, even.

It's his job to talk, to sing, to commit the most painful and difficult experiences to beautiful poetic verse. But Jaskier doesn't know what to say to his friend right now. Surely he has to say something.

"Geralt..."

"Don't waste your pity. Save it for the ones who didn't make it through. I did."

"Okay," the bard replies, careful and tentative. He isn't a brave man, nor a particularly kind one. But Jaskier considers himself an honest fellow so he adds, "Just because you made it through, you know, that doesn't mean what happened to you was all right, Geralt. Children aren't supposed to be left alone to fend for themselves."

The witcher laughs—a humorless, wretched sound. He doesn't say anything at all to that. Which is okay, really; Jaskier just needed him to hear it.

There is a long silence. The fire crackles. Jaskier absently strums his lute.

"You're gonna write a ballad about this, aren't you," Geralt says after a while.

"No!" Maybe. Yes. He won't perform it.

"Hm."

The fire crackles.

Quite out of the blue, Geralt tells him, "I befriended a wolf back then."

"What? You're joking!"

"Witchers don't have a sense of humor. Common knowledge."

"Common misconception. Most people are just stupid. No, hang on, stop distracting me—You had a pet wolf?!"

"Not a pet," the witcher corrects, smiling faintly. "Fangtooth was her own wolf."

"Fangtooth?" Jaskier repeats, struggling to contain his amusement. "Not Roach?"

"No."

"Forgive me, but that's adorable."

"I was just a child. I wanted to stay with her in the wilderness. Be a wolf, too. Or a knight." He shakes his head dismissively. Silly childish dreams.

"But you didn't," Jaskier says. And feels stupid for saying something so obvious.

"Too late for that," Geralt replies without reproach. "I was already a witcher."

"As a child, I wanted to run away and join the circus," the bard offers.

"Of course you did."

They're quiet for a moment then. Comfortable, shared silence. Just the sounds of birds and forest creatures, and Roach contentedly eating grass. The fire crackles.

"Geralt, will you teach me to light a fire? Without witcher magic, obviously, since I don't have any."

"Why?"

"Because...well, because I could be a more useful traveling companion. Like Fangtooth must've been."

"...Fine," Geralt agrees after some thought.

It is a skill he will be very grateful to have on freezing nights in the coming years, especially whenever the witcher is too injured or ill from those dreadful potions to help set up camp. He will try not to think of the child Geralt once was, subjected to horrific tests of his ability to survive all on his own.

Except he hadn't been on his own back then, not completely. And he isn't alone anymore, either.

[hp-hcs]

(Fine, I’ll do it my damn self: part 5 of my silly lil mlm stories <3)

tmr is just babygirl i don’t make the rules

Watercolors (Chapter One) — tom riddle x male! artistic! hufflepuff! reader

he could manipulate and possess me thus irreversibly changing my trust in people despite it never being mentioned again and i would thank him

yk, i absolutely love chamber of secrets, but who starts a new diary (obtained under questionable circumstances) with ‘my name is’?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tom Marvolo Riddle had been stuck inside of his diary since he was sixteen years old.

The diary itself, inside, was a perfect replica of Hogwarts, the boundaries stretching out well into the Forbidden Forest. Perfect, except for the fact that it was made solely of parchment and ink, and was completely devoid of color or life.

Tom hated the color of parchment.

The diary passed hands many times over the five subsequent decades. First there was the pathetic, sniveling man—the Malfoy sycophant—who all but groveled at Tom’s feet (metaphorically, of course).

Next was the littlest Weasley, the redheaded girl who bored Tom to (again, metaphorical) death. He could only pretend to be interested in how Dean Thomas held the door open for her so many times before he wanted to bash his head into one of the walls.

(He tried, once. The parchment just ripped and left him with a nasty paper-cut on his forehead. Tom missed the red of blood. Now, he bled only black, dripping ink.)

Then, Harry Potter, the boy fated to defeat him, (or whatever) who turned out to be really quite sweet. As a last fuck you to whom he became in the future, Tom aided Harry in coming out to the littlest Weasley’s mother.

That’ll show Lord Voldemort, the dipshit, Tom thought gleefully.

Eventually though, even lovely Harry became more distant, his newly rediscovered godfather being the rightful center of his attention. Tom supposed he might have been jealous of the acquitted Black in another life, but after fifty years of loneliness he understood the yearning for living, breathing friends rather than just paper that writes back, as Little Weasley once called him.

Then, out of nowhere, came the Hufflepuff boy with a tin of watercolors and an eye for the overlooked.

The first thing this wondrous creature made for Tom was a little stone cottage, complete with a warm hearth, a garden of pumpkins and berries, and an idyllic curl of smoke from the chimney. The cottage sat near the edge of the forest, wonderfully secluded and alive.

Tom had watched as gentle sweeps of a brush, suspended in midair, created a home. One that existed in both the physical diary and the hellish paper prison Tom resided in.

Everything existed.

The warm, brown thatched roof, the colorfully patterned bedspread, and even a fireplace.

When the masterpiece was complete, Tom, although he would never admit it, gorged himself on the garden’s sweet huckleberries and sour raspberries. Afterward, he explored his new house, even going so far as to stick his hand into the flames of the fire.

(They weren’t real. They felt like nothing more than a faint warmth against his skin. Disappointing, Tom supposed. But probably a safety hazard.)

Then he curled up in the big bed, under the vibrant bedspread, and closed his eyes.

For the first time in fifty years, Tom slept.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chapter Two

i need you all to know that the original title for this was “Tom Riddle is a man-whore(crux)??? (NOT CLICKBAIT)” so-

[babygirlbites]

Wolves and their star signs

Hello my little cherubs - how are we doing ? I hope we are doing well

Are we pretending I haven’t been gone for years? Absolutely!

Anyway, let’s talk star signs real quick. None of this is based on canon birthdays, I’m simply beyond Stephanie and her knowledge of her own characters.

These are MY opinions, which are fact as I am factually never wrong. However you are welcome to discuss

Jacob is a Leo; bold, stubborn, natural born leader. this man has main characteritis for sure. I’ve never met a Leo man who didn’t think he was always correct and was so headstrong about it, even when being actively proven wrong. I feel like Jake could wake up one morning and decide the sky is red and anyone who disagreed or god forbid brought factual evidence to him that disproved this would be ignored AND judged. However, Leo’s are loyal (to a fault, often) so although he’s headstrong he’s a ride or die for sure. If he likes you he is going to defend you against anything (excluding himself though because remember, he’s always right) and if he LOVES YOU pfft, I wouldn’t be messing with a Leo’s lover that’s for sure.

Sam is a Pisces; emotional, calm, strong willed. ugh, where do i start. Pisces are so emotional, which may seem like a good thing but I promise you those Pisces men can and will use this to manipulate, gaslight and gatekeep. He’s artistic though, and generally a reliable gent, but sometimes he can be a real nasty little man. He’s sly about his anger, he isn’t a shouting/agressive man at all, he would never DREAM of hurting you (the Emily situation will not repeat) but he can make you feel like shit emotionally. Pisces are just too clever idk I don’t mean to slander you all but as an aqua woman yous are real difficult

Embry is an Aquarius; Creative, smart, thinks outside the box, independent . He’s sensitive, but only when he’s close enough to you to allow you too see that. Aqua knows aqua, I know this boy would be super hard to get into the inner circle of. Sure, he’s openly friendly to everyone, but only the small few that HE allows close will see the real him. Once you do though, he’s an open book, belly laughing at your shitty dad jokes and ugly crying at pet rehoming tiktoks on his fyp.

Paul is a Gemini; loud, fun, and maybe a bit toxic. now I did debate aries for Paul but I just think he’s an air sign through and through. Sure, he’s firey as hell, but he’s so charming and no Aries has that level of rizz (sorry guys but the truth hurts sometimes). He’s a player through and through, he’s got a contacts list full of girls under code names like “girl from Seattle” or “drives a Honda” - which the feminist in me has an issue with but I can’t lie I love a Gemini. They are feral, and as long as you can prepare for that, then they will be the most fun you ever have. Just don’t get attached, or do, I can’t tell you what to do!

Jared is a libra; fun, lighthearted and emotionally wrecked. I love libras but damn do you guys wear your hearts on your sleeves! You’re so easily hurt, and you’ve BEEN hurt, and guess what? You’ll get hurt again. I feel like Jared’s the kind of guy to get played by the same girl/guy multiple times but still tell everyone they are his “twin flame”. Please treat this boy right - I don’t know if he can take the heartbreak (he can, and it will NOT put him off)

Quil is a cancer; he’s soft, he’s loving and he’s emotionally enlightened! We love a cancer in this house, emotional like a Pisces but open like a libra, a cancer is the right mix of mature and fun. They are sweet and sensitive and if any star sign is going to be an empath, it’s cancer. I feel like quil is the guy you go too when you’ve just found out something awful - all the guys would be there for you but where Paul or Jake or Sam even would blow a gasket and leave you alone while then went out on a rampage to hurt whomever was unlucky enough to hurt the one they love, Quil would take you in, cook for you and listen to whatever you had to say. Of course, he’s angry someone has upset you, but he’s more bothered that you are okay then that they aren’t. He’s a good guy, that’s all.

Leah is a Taurus; strong willed, well routed and stubborn. She’s practical, she’s gonna tell you straight up what she thinks with no filter, and sometimes that can hurt. She’s not the biggest personality in the room or the loudest voice at the party but she’s straight to the point and not afraid to be heard when she sees fit. She’s fun too, when she wants to be and with whom she wants to be. Under all of this though she’s family centred; she will kill for her family (and found family).

Seth is a Virgo; bold, grounded but enchanting. Virgos have a way of capturing a whole room without even having to try, they aren’t brash or loud but they are just so vibrant man idk! There’s something about them. Anyway I think Seth is just a lovely sunshine character, he’s deffo got cancer in his big three too, maybe his moon, but the Virgo energy is there for me. He’s the fun earth sign and he’s not gonna let you forget it

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire

biker!eddie x fem!artist!reader

Part 17: A creature of love, I can't be tamed

masterlist playlist

18+ONLY, series typical violence, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex with someone other than Eddie and reader, hate-fucking (consensual), oral (m receiving), sexual harassment, biker!steve, biker!billy, protective!eddie, rocker!nancy

word count: 6.4k

songs: I Hate Myself for Loving You by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts, Wild Child by W.A.S.P. and Cinnamon Girl by Type O Negative

The second half of your first night back at the Velvet Hammer heats up with Eddie on stage, Charlene on the premises with Billy, and Steve working through his emotions in a moment of carnal desire.

authors note: It has felt so good to get back to writing this story, I missed our biker boys so much. It will probably be another week or two until the next part, but you won't have to wait too long. Thank you for your patience, I love you.

There came the sound of shrill feedback from the stage, and the drummer twisted his stick around his fingers before clapping the high hat. You took your break and met Eddie over by the carpeted hallway.  The two of you huddled together, out of view from the front half of the bar, including Charlene and Billy.  

“What’s Steve going to do?” You hushed, feeling the familiar anxiety rise inside of you that someone might get hurt again.  

“Nothing for now,” Eddie exhaled.  You put your hand on his chest, and he held it there. “You let me worry about Steve and Charlene, you have enough to do.  I won’t let anything go sideways in here tonight.”

You told him about what you’d just learned from Shana, about Charlene being part owner of the Velvet Hammer, and he gave a slow blink, dragging out a long, ragged breath.  “Why does that not surprise me,” you could almost hear the wheels in his brain turning. “She can’t have this place, it’s ours,” he growled, walking you down the hall and clanking open the heavy metal back door to the alley.  

“But,” you started.  Eddie pulled a pack of smokes out of his front pocket and sparked a flame from his zippo to light the end.  “Isn’t it too late for that? It sounds like she already took it?”

You held two fingers like you were making a peace sign for Eddie to pass you a smoke and he raised his eyebrow at you curiously.  You gave a nod, answering his unspoken question, and he put a second one between his lips to light it for you before passing it over.  

You took a tiny drag and coughed smoke out of your nose at first, but then the second inhale was smoother.  Thanks to so many nights at the Hammer, your throat and lungs were sufficiently coated with tar and ready for the challenge.  

The other owner of the Hammer was a well known real estate investor and builder named Murray Bauman, and he was a friend of the MC.  They’d done several “jobs” for him over the years that were clean by MC standards, but dirty enough to ruin his reputation if they came to light. Murray was also notoriously unfriendly with the Gregson’s, and Eddie wondered how much Charlene had paid, and what kind of scandal she’d dug up on Stephen, to make him give up his share like that.  

Eddie tilted his head back, exposing his throat, to take a long, thoughtful drag, looking up at the clear sky that was blinking full of stars.  “I wish I could go back in time before I ever met Charlene, and avoid her at all costs.”

“I don’t know,” you looked down and kicked the heel of your shoe against your toe.  “She’s awfully determined.  I think she would’ve found you anyway.  Plus, I don’t think it’s you she wants anymore.”

“I feel responsible though,” Eddie muttered, blowing smoke out through tight lips. “For everything that’s happened to the people around me because of her.”

The sound of Nancy saying something into the mic, followed by the crowd cheering, came muffled through the door, and you really wanted to change the subject, to pull him out of his dark thoughts.  “I’d love to see you play tonight,” you told him right before both of your cherries glowed orange at the same time in the dark.  

“I don’t have my guitar here,” he stated the obvious, sucking his tongue on the roof on a sharp inhale, angling his head back to blow smoke up while keeping his eyes on you.  “But I might sing one or two with her.  Just for you.”

“You can sing too?” Your eyes got wide like a little kid watching the twinkling lights on a Christmas tree.

“Hi, baby, have we met?” He scoffed, slipping his bottom lip through his teeth to repress a grin, and then he winked at you and smashed his smoke on the brick wall before throwing it in the dumpster. He caught you by the hips and pulled you flush to him.  “I mean, I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

—--------

Back on his stool, Steve rolled a toothpick between his lips while he scanned the crowd, and did his best not to look over at Billy and Charlene. He wasn’t sure what was eating at him more; the fact that she had the nerve to show up after everything, or that she was there with Billy.  

The crew from Lucifer’s Own were known for doing the dirty deeds no other MC would touch.  They ran a high-end escort service on the outskirts of town, and did a lot of blow and opiate smuggling over the border.  It was also a front for an underground fighting ring that was dirty and rigged, and sometimes, the fools who participated ended up with broken bones, or had their lights turned out completely.  

Billy Hargrove and Steve went way back, and they’d actually been friendly acquaintances for a while back in high school, until Billy had pursued a girl Steve liked at the time just to piss him off. Also, to prove to Steve that he could take whoever he wanted.  “Nothing wrong with a little competition, right, Harrington?” Is that what this was? Was Billy escorting Charlene around just to rub it in Steve’s face?

“Yeah, well, you can have her,” Steve mumbled to himself under his breath, thoughts racing so fast that he was starting to talk to himself, head bent to work the end of the toothpick with his fingers.  “Good luck with that one, buddy, you’ll need it.”

There was more feedback from the speakers.  “Hey there Hawkins, who is ready to rock?” Nancy purred into the microphone, one hand gripping the fretboard of her guitar before she slung the strap around her body. People shouted and cheered, and there were a few high-pitched whistles of encouragement.

The bassist with the band looked like a younger version of Eddie, but with a mane of black hair that was thick with tight curls, and the drummer had a black goatee and long, straight hair way past his shoulders.  The backup guitarist looked like he was cut right out of the James Hetfeild playbook.  

“We’re gonna start out with a little something familiar to get y’all warmed up,” Nancy said into the mic.  “This one is called I Hate Myself for Loving You.”

The crowd roared, pounding their fists on the tables.  Nancy said a countdown before she began a slow clap to the beat and the drums kicked in, deep bass vibrating in the walls.  

When Steve looked up, he saw Charlene making her way across the room, either for the payphone or the restrooms, and Steve straightened up, wondering if he should say something to her.  He went up to the bar and patted Thumper on his broad back, asking him to watch the door for a few minutes.  Thumper was three beers and several shots in, but was not yet showing any signs of inebriation.  He fisted a handful of his graying beard and told Steve it was no problem.  

“Midnight, gettin' uptight, where are you?

You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to two

I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you…”

He followed but he hung back, hiding in the crowd until he saw her go into one of the bathrooms.  When you and Eddie came out from the alley, you found Steve leaning against the wall that was heavily papered in band flyers, next to the payphone.  

Eddie was walking behind you,his hands firm on your hips, moving his legs in time with yours.  You both came to a halt at the sight of Steve, and you had to shove off, back to work, but Eddie took your hand to kiss your knuckles before you walked away.

“Everything cool?” Eddie asked his friend, checking around to make sure no chaos had ensued while he’d been outside with you.  There was a huge crowd there, packed in like sardines.  All of the tables and bar stools were occupied, and plenty of people were taking advantage of the standing room only, blocking most of the walkways.  

“I’m not sure yet, man,” Steve put his head back against the wall, Adam’s apple jutting out.  “But I’ll let you know.”

“I called Van and told him to get over here with Devlin,” Eddie let him know.  “Just in case more of Lucifer’s Own try to cause trouble.”

Steve only nodded, absently, his eyes twitching to the bathroom door every so often.  Eddie clapped Steve a few times on the arm before turning to watch the band as he pushed his way through the crowd.  Nancy made her fingers into devil horns in the air at him and Eddie returned the gesture, raising his arm high.  

“I think of you every night and day

You took my heart and you took my pride away…”

The crowd was stomping their feet to the rhythm and belting out the chorus.  Nancy detached the mic from the stand to make her way across the stage.  

The second Steve saw the door open, he took long strides across the hallway to keep Charlene from exiting, pushing her back inside the single-person bathroom.  She did not protest as he braced the door and locked it behind him, turning to face her with a tight jaw.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Char?”

“What do you think I’m doing here?” She hushed it, dropping her gaze as if suddenly she was afraid to look at him.  “I missed you.”

“Jesus Christ, Charlene, you need to stop.” He rubbed his hands down his face, exasperated.  “I’m sorry for how I treated you at the hotel, but this needs to end.”

“But what if I don’t want to stop?” She closed in on him, lifting her hands to hold his face, but he blocked the effort, restraining her at the wrists. “What if I want you so bad, it hurts?”

He met her eyes.  “You miss me and you thought fucking Billy would be the answer?”

“We’re not fucking, it’s not like that with him.  Not like it was with you.”  She struggled a little in his grasp just so he would tighten his grip on her.

Steve scoffed.  “You mean, not like it was with me and Eddie and your husband and every other dude you’ve spread your legs for in this town?” Steve wasn’t one to judge, not with the amount of pussy he’d run through over the years, but still, showing up with one of his rivals was a low blow.  

Charlene slammed forward so that Steve’s back hit the door, her breath hot and urgent on his neck. “No one fills me up like you do.  I need your cock to split me open one last time, Stevie, please.”

She sank to her knees, kissing down his chest as she went, and he let her, releasing her wrists so that she could make quick work of unbuttoning his Levi’s.  She licked around his balls and nuzzled her face in the hair at the base of his thick shaft, making hungry gasps of need as she did so.

He hissed when the fat head of his cock sank into her mouth. “Juss…just one more time,” he groaned as she lapped him up.  She hummed around his length and nodded, looking up at him, agreeing as her lips strained to take the measure of his girth.  

“I know you’re angry, Steve,” she flicked her tongue out over the ridge a few times like a poisonous snake about to strike.  “I want you to take it out on me.”

He fisted a handful of her hair, tight, so that he controlled the movements of her head, and it made her whimper with pleasure.  

—------

The next song Divine Filth sang was an original, a real headbanger that had Nancy growling into the mic and jabbing her devil horn fingers in the air. The bass guitarist’s fingers strummed the keys while the drummer spun his sticks high in the air and caught them.  You noticed that a few of the male patrons were choosing to go outside to take a piss, which meant there was another line at the bathrooms again, but you were too busy to go over and check out why.  

While Erika was on her break, it was your responsibility to go over and check on Billy, since Jackie was working the other side of the room.  Two more of the Coffin Kings had just arrived and Eddie was out in the parking lot having a talk with them, being that it was hard to have a conversation inside with the band playing. 

You made your way over to Billy’s table, noticing that Charlene was nowhere to be found.  One side of his mouth lifted in a crooked grin while he watched you approach, and you wondered if he knew who you were and who you belonged to.  You also wondered if he gave a shit.

As you got closer, you noticed that he had a pronounced scar from his eye to his jaw, and he didn’t have a ton of tattoos like the other boys, but there was the word “mother” above a heart with a dagger through it just under the sleeve of his t-shirt on his bicep and a Lucifer’s Own insignia on his opposite forearm.  

He was slouched down a bit in his seat, knees spread wide, voice raised to be heard over the music.  “You must be War Machine’s old lady,” he gave you a lift of his chin.

“You are correct,” you said with your best customer service smile.  

“Damn,” his hand made a cage around the pack of smokes on the table so he could pull it toward him.  His eyes locked onto your face, unwavering.  “That son of a bitch always had good taste.”

“If you say so,” you checked over your shoulder, expecting to see Eddie charging over with that dangerous scowl on his face, but he wasn’t inside yet.  You cleared your throat.  “Can I get you anything else?”

He ordered another beer for himself and a tequila for Charlene, even though you knew she was much more of a wine drinker.  

“Just put it on Charlene’s tab,” he said with a wink, alluding to the fact that she was practically your boss now. “But this is for you,” and before you could reach for the 20 dollar bill he had in his hand, he was stuffing it into the waistband of your shorts, fingers grazing your bare skin, watching the discomfort wash over your face as he did so.

You turned on your heel without another word, bee-lining back to the bar, when Eddie stepped through the main door so abruptly, you almost crashed into him.    

Devlin and Van moved around the two of you while Eddie put one hand on your lower back and the other cupped the back of your neck.  “You okay, baby?” He mumbled, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

You nodded, but then Eddie looked over in the direction you had just come and saw Billy there, flicking the flame on his lighter and watching the interaction between the two of you.  You knew what Eddie was looking at by the way his body tensed.  “Did Billy say something to you?”

“I had to wait on his table while Erika was on her break,” you were pulling your boyfriend away as you were talking, practically dragging him back to his seat at the bar.  “Nothing happened, I’m fine.  I just missed you.”

On stage, Nancy lit into a mean guitar solo.

“You sure?” Eddie’s stare was hard.  

“Hey,” you grabbed Eddie’s face, making him look at you. “Baby, can’t you see? He wants to start trouble.  Just ignore him.  Please, for me.”

“Did he touch you?”  His jaw muscles bulged and a dark fell over his brown eyes, making them almost black.

“No baby,” you hummed the lie.  Eddie had quite a bit of common sense, more so than Steve when it came to affairs of the heart, but you knew that someone would get hurt if you told him about the way Billy had slid that money into your shorts.  You had no doubt that Eddie could handle himself, but you didn’t want there to be any more fighting; everyone had already been through enough.  Plus, Billy was not the first guy at the Hammer to overstep, and he wouldn’t be the last.  Sadly, that was the nature of the work, you’d come to realize. 

Eddie took a breath and lowered his forehead to yours, slotting his fingers around your ears so that his thumbs grazed your cheeks.  “I’ll be good, sweetheart,” he promised.

Everyone clapped at the end of the song and then you heard Eddie’s name being said over the speakers.

“We’re lucky enough to have the frontman for Corroded Coffin here with us tonight,” Nancy started.  “And he said he might get up here for a song or two.  What do you say, Munson?”

The crowd went wild at that suggestion, and some even chanted his last name, punching fists into the air.  Nancy motioned him on stage with a few scoops of her fingers.

“I guess I’m doing this,” he said, parting your lips with his tongue for a brief but firm kiss before he made his way to the stage.  The James Hetfield guy was already taking off his guitar to hand it to Eddie before he could protest, and they clapped hands together in greeting.  Your “old man” was adjusting the strap over his shoulder when he looked out over the sea of heads and caught your eye. 

“I love you,” Eddie mouthed, taking the pic off of the chain that he had dangling around his neck.  

—-------

Five minutes earlier, Steve had Charlene bent over the sink in the bathroom, jeans low on his hips, yanking her head back by the throat as he jackhammered himself inside of her.  

“Tighter,” she whined, and his fingers closed in on her windpipe.  He’d pushed her thong to the side and was spitting every so often so that he could watch it slide down her slit and mix with the frothing wet mess of her arousal where his cock sank into her.  He didn’t need the saliva to lube his brutal pace, but he liked the idea of spitting on her, it helped him work through his hatred.  

“God Steve, you’re so fucking good, fuckkk,” she dragged the last word out as hips clapped onto her with rapid, forceful grunts, making her whole body jerk each time he made contact.

He slowed the pace for a few thrusts so that he could spit again, and then he used his thumb to rub the saliva around the pink hole that tightened at his touch.  He’d never been with a woman who had every inch of hair removed like her, she looked like some kind of porn star. He wanted to be in her ass one last time, but it felt too tight and warm where he was.  He was close.

He let go of her throat and clutched her hips on either side in a way that would bruise, angling to finish himself off.  

“You’re such a fucking whore for my cock,” he bit out. He wished she didn’t feel so fucking good.  He wished that his disgust for her didn’t also turn him on in a way that made him uncomfortable.  

Charlene’s eyes rolled back in her head, orgasm mounting rapidly as he buried himself base deep to a point where the line between pleasure and pain was blurred.  She knew this was a farewell reminder, and it made her cry out his name.

“Fuck Steve, I’m cumming,” a few more pumps and she was exploding around his length, legs shaking at the way the wave crashed over her, making her see white.

“Get on your knees,” Steve told her, his hips stuttering.  When she was down in front of him, he jerked himself the rest of the way off onto her outstretched tongue, ropes of cum painting her chin and dripping down to her cleavage.  He made her lick the rest of him clean, and then she sucked her fingers.  

Someone knocked on the bathroom door.

“Yeah, hold your fucking horses,” Steve shouted, pulling his jeans up.  He helped Charlene get her bodysuit back on and zipped up.  He almost kissed her, but then he remembered who she was.  

He checked himself in the mirror and slicked his hair back before letting her know she should wait a minute until after he was gone before she followed him out.  She was cleaning the mascara that had leaked down her cheeks, and was about to apply more lipstick, when she caught his eyes on her in the reflection.  

“What if I told you I had a gift for you?” Her expression was coy.

Steve sighed.  “I don’t want anything from you, Char. This was it, I’m done, I mean it.”

She rolled the red lipstick out of its gold tube.  “What if it was something that would change your life?”

He thought about that, wetting his lips.  “Listen, we’re never gonna fuck again.  I don’t care if you buy me a Ferrari.”

“Well, it’s better than a car,” she huffed a small laugh.  “Let’s just call it a…parting gift.  A way for me to say sorry for everything I put you and Eddie through.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and put his back against the door.  “Yeah, well, if this is about to be some grande gesture from you, I’d like to know what the catch is.”

She turned to him, fixing the ends of her hair around her face. “No catch, not this time,” she took a step forward, holding her black clutch in one hand.  “Listen, I know it sounds childish and stupid, but I think I…I think I fell in love with you.” She furrowed her brow as if the sentiment didn’t make sense to her, as if she’d never grasped the weight of the words before.

Steve couldn’t help himself, he rolled his eyes and barked a laugh, thoroughly amused. 

“I can’t change the past,” she tried to push her chest out, to get her statuesque posture back.  “But I can try to make it up to you.  To both of you.”

“Yeah?” Steve gave her a bored shrug.  “Personally, I think you’re way past the point of redemption.”

“Maybe,” she pressed her lips together and took hold of the door handle.  “I guess we’ll see.”

—------

All of your attention was eyes front on Eddie as he leaned over to discuss something with Nancy, lengthening the strap on his guitar as he spoke.  You barely noticed someone trying to make their way through the crowd until Steve bumped into your shoulder, making you sway on your feet.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he caught you and helped you find your balance.  “I didn’t see you there.”

Steve looked…disheveled, and his face was flushed, as if he’d just run around the block. There were lines in his hair from raking his fingers through it so many times.

“You good?” You called after him, but all he offered was a “thumbs up” over his shoulder.  

It was barely a minute before you caught sight of Charlene coming out of the hallway, following in his wake.  She had a pink flush to the pale skin of her throat, almost a perfect handprint impression, and your brain was busy putting the pieces together when Nancy got back on the mic. 

“This one is called Wild Child,” Nancy started on the guitar and people in the crowd got crazy again.  The Hell’s Belle next to you whistled so loud, it almost blew your eardrum out.  You weren’t too familiar with the band W.A.S.P. before Eddie, but you knew the song, and waited eagerly to hear his voice as he leaned in, moving his fingers along the strings.

“I ride, I ride the winds that bring the rain

A creature of love, and I can't be tamed

I want you, 'cause I'm gonna take your love from him

And I'll touch your face and hot burning skin

No, he'll never ever touch you like I do…”

He squeezed his eyes shut as he sang the first bit, hair hanging down his shoulders, muscles flexing under the ink that covered his forearms and hands.  When his eyes opened, he found you in the crowd, and your heart swelled at the way he cracked a smile around the words at the sight of you.  

“So look in my eyes and burn alive, the truth

I'm a wild child, come and love me

I want you…”

God, he was magic up there.  He looked like a natural, holding that guitar in his hands, the way his fingers flew deftly to each note.  

And he was all yours.  

The chorus came and you sang the words, smiling so hard already, your cheeks hurt.  You’d never known your eyes to “sparkle” like a cartoon before, but you felt like that’s what they were doing. 

“My heart's in exile, I need you to touch me

'Cause I want what you do

I want you”

Someone grabbed your elbow, and you spun around to see who it was.

Jackie had a full tray in her hand, trying to balance it amidst the moving bodies.  “Hey, are you on the floor right now? Don’t mean to be a bitch, but I need you.  A table full of jarheads just showed up.” 

“Oh shit, right,” you’d honestly forgot where you were for a moment, you’d been so caught up in that Munson Magic.  You took another glance at the stage, wanting to catch Eddie’s eye, but he was looking down at his hands, concentrating on where they worked the guitar.  

The table in your section that Jackie mentioned had seven guys in their mid-twenties sporting that type of “high and tight” haircut that you saw almost exclusively with members of military or law enforcement, and you took a deep breath, because you never knew what the vibe would be for those types of men who visited the Hammer.  Either they’d be extremely polite like they just came from church, or they’d be vile and disrespectful.  

“What’ll it be tonight, boys?” You asked, sidling up to their table.  “Buy one pitcher of draft and get the next half off.” 

They all turned to appraise you, not caring that the way their lewd stares locking on your body and tits made you uncomfortable.

“See, I told you,” the dark haired one said to the one in the red and white striped polo shirt.  “The bitches here are super hot.”

You gulped, doing your best to restrain from looking as disgusted as you felt while they talked about you like you weren’t even there.  

“How much for you to sit in my lap?” One of them asked.

“How much for you to suck me off?” One of them whispered, and the whole table guffawed into the type of laughter that was not warranted for something that was so not funny.

You checked over your shoulder for Steve, and he appeared to be escorting someone out who’d just been cut off.  There was a bench outside, and he always had them wait there while he called a member of their family or a taxi to come pick them up.  The guy was having a hard time getting his legs to work, and Steve had to practically carry him out. 

You glanced up at the stage when the other song ended, and you could tell Eddie was searching for you, and so you stuck your hand up in the air to catch his attention.  

“This one is for my girl,” he pushed hair out of his face and the sentiment made you freeze.  A goofy grin stretched across your face and you let out an actual giggle.  You were very familiar with the opening notes of Cinnamon Girl by Type O Negative.  

“So, a pitcher of beer, then?”  You asked, distracted, but in a much better mood than you were a few seconds ago.  The guys at the table were too busy being crass to decide what they wanted to drink, so you chose for them.  They agreed on the pitcher, and ordered a round of shots. 

You kept your attention on Eddie as you made your way across the space, and your heart was in your throat at how proud you were to be his.  His voice was deep and powerful, and it seemed like no one could pull their eyes away. The air was a bit humid inside, and you could see a sheen of sweat on his skin already glistening, bangs sticking to his forehead.  He’d taken off his Coffin Kings cut and shirt, so he was up there in a ribbed, white tank of the Hanes variety, exposing the wash of dark tattoos over his shoulders and arm muscles that bulged from hours upon hours of manual labor.  

“I want to live with a cinnamon girl

I could be happy the rest of my life with her

A dreamer of pictures, I run in the night

You see us together, chase the moonlight…”

At the bar, you considered letting Van and Devlin know that there were some guys there who might start trouble now that Steve was distracted, but then you remembered that you were the bad bitch who stabbed Craig in the balls and brought him to his knees—-you could handle a few young douchebags.  

You gave Shana the drink order while Eddie’s deep voice bellowed, “my cinnamon girl, my cinnamon girl…” to the collective swooning of the crowd.  

You waited on two other couples, lingering in the middle of the room so that you could see Eddie more clearly, dragging your feet before you had to return to the guys with the matching haircuts.  

You took a cleansing breath and squared your shoulders before heading back.  You tried not to be bothered by the way the dudes checked you out as you put the drinks down.  When you were finished, the guy closest to you, with close-set eyes and a thick neck, ran his hand up the back of your leg.

“Hey,” your stare hardened on him and you stepped away, eyebrows pinching together.  “No touching.”

The guys all snickered at that, as if it was so funny that they all knew they weren’t supposed to touch the staff, but they still got away with it.  

“No he’s sorry, really,” said the tall, skinny one who hadn’t spoken up yet.  His face was unreadable, you couldn’t tell if he was being a shitheel or not.  The table fell silent for a beat.  “But we would really like to know how much it would cost for handjobs, all around.  Is there a group price for you girls?”

More idiotic cackling.

You turned to leave them, to go find Steve, to let him know you needed his assistance, but the one with the blonde hair and Limp Bizkit shirt caught you by the arm, digging his fingers in, and yanked you back so that his other hand could roam the curve of your ass.  “Just a little feel, baby, we’ll tip good,  I promise.”

You pushed him off and were just about to yell for Steve or Thumper when you saw the guy across the round table get his face smashed into the wood, so hard that blood splattered and you could hear the sick crack of breaking bone.

You were surprised to see Billy there, standing behind the one who was clutching his broken nose and wailing.  He was smiling, cigarette bobbing between his lips.  “I think you bozo’s should apologize to the lady.”

You hadn’t heard the music stop, didn’t realize that the commotion had drawn most of the attention to you.

In a flash, the guy in the Limp Bizkit shirt was ripped from his seat, and there was Eddie, picking him up by the throat to punch him across the face, sending him flying.

The impact made saliva and possibly a tooth go spitting from his mouth and you screamed at the shock of it.  

“Eddie look out!” You shouted.  The tall one was about to take a cheap shot at Eddie’s ribs while he sank another punch into the guy’s jaw, but you came down with your serving tray as hard as you could and nailed him.

“Holy shit,” Steve cursed when he stuck his head inside to see what the commotion was.  Thumper was nowhere to be found, and Steve figured he was taking a piss.  Starting brawls inside the Hammer was not protocol.  Bouncers were always encouraged to take everything outside, but now it was too late.  

“Get her out of here!” you heard Steve’s voice, he was talking to Devlin, and then you were being pulled back by cautious hands, away from the chaos. 

One of the jarheads was just about to break a beer glass over Eddie’s head, but Billy showed up out of nowhere and kicked him in the back, sending the asshole flying right into Steve’s awaiting fist.  The guy’s body crashed into a table, shattering glasses, and making the other patrons scatter.  

“You better leave this one for me, Harrington,” Billy smiled and wiggled his tongue.  “Wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty face of yours.”

Billy was helping them, and that was a twist you hadn’t expected.  Perhaps it wasn’t so much for them as for himself, since you could tell Billy had been looking for a fight all night.  

Steve got one of the other guys in a choke hold and began to drag him outside.  Billy made wide eyes at one of the leftover trouble makers and charged after him, making the guy shriek like he was about to pee his pants before running from the building.    

While the one Eddie had been punched was babbling at the foot of unconsciousness on the ground, he took hold of the one with the close-set eyes and the thick neck who had rubbed your leg first.

Eddie had been watching, and quick to cut off before the end of the song to jump down from the stage in a blinding rage.

Devlin held you loosely by the arms, but you shook him off, and stood next to Shana and Erika, continuing to keep your distance for the sake of Eddie and Steve’s peace of mind, and wincing each time one of the other dudes took a hard hit from one of the Coffin Kings.  

Eddie took the guy by the shirt and sent a punch into his stomach.  Mister Thick Neck doubled over but then Eddie took him by the throat and slammed him into the nearest wall.  Eddie had his fist winding back for a punch when Steve shouted his name to get his attention.  

The rest of the dickheads had been escorted outside by a few Hell’s Belle’s, while the rest of the crowd kept their distance.  You saw Charlene in the far corner, touching up her lipstick in a compact mirror, seemingly unphased by it all.  

“Not in here,” Steve pleaded with Eddie, breathlessly.  “Like you said.”

Eddie’s eyes were black and cold like that of a shark.  His mouth trembled with the urge to actually bite into the guy’s face, to mutilate him with his bare teeth and make him beg for mercy.

Eddie banged the guy's body into the brick wall again, locking him there with his forearm.  “Apologize to my girl,” he growled.

The buzz cut guy coughed and struggled, having a hard time breathing. “I don’t know who your girl is, man,” he was only able to squeak out a mild protest under the pressure of Eddie’s grip.  

“Your waitress,” Eddie hissed through gritted teeth.

The guy against the wall tried to turn his head to look for you, but Eddie squeezed his face.  “You don’t get to look at her,” Eddie fumed.  “Just say you’re sorry.”

Multiple desperate “sorry’s” followed, and then Eddie told Steve to get the guy’s wallet to take all of the cash out.  A quick count said there was about a hundred bucks.

“That’ll be her tip,” Eddie announced, dragging him by the shirt collar to take him outside with the rest.  

They were all told to empty their wallets of their cash, and Steve made a scene of noting the addresses on their driver’s licenses.  

“I have a memory like a steel trap,” Steve lied, pointing to his temple, grabbing the guy in the red and white polo by the side of his neck, getting up in his face.  “If you so much as walk by this place ever again, or tell the cops about this, you’ll see me in your nightmares. Now, get the fuck out of here before I call your mommies.”

You sank in next to Eddie’s side just outside the main entrance, and he put his arm around you.  “Will things ever calm down around here?” You asked with a heavy sigh, watching the broken group scurry and limp away down the street.

Eddie gave a low laugh and hugged you a bit tighter.  “God, I hope so, baby.”

Divine Filth started another song, to try and get things back to normal, and most of the crowd returned to their drinks as if there had not been actual bloodshed just five minutes ago.

No one but Shana heard the phone next to the cash register ring over the sound of the music, but after a few seconds, she shrugged by you and Eddie to stick her head out and scan the sidewalk.

"Steve?" She craned her neck to look for him.

"Yeah, that's me," he came from around the back side of the door, flicking his cigarette, knuckles split and bloody again.

"Some guy named Dustin called," she said, merely passing on a message. "He said Suzie just went into labor."

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