#and now for this tour they’re 10 hours away

[eclipse-darling]

THEY WENT TO ALBUQUERQUE AND NO ONE TOLD ME

🎥: @ michi_lynnn

[alalaya2]

Tim Drakes Sleeping habits save the Earth

11 They’re Coming 1/2

A Few hours had passed, and Danny was Disassociating as he was going in and out of consciousness, he was not able to accept what was happening around him. In the two years he had been a protective spirit he had never lost anyone. The 30 people who had died during Ghost attacks were the rare occasions when he was not in town when the attack happened. The Deaths were cause by the GIW not caring about civilians and hit a tour bus trying to catch Boxy. The locals knew to stay away which is why they only got injured but not the outsiders, that was probably the point when the GIW started their information block in earnest. Before then there were a lot of people coming in and out of the city, then the tourists just stopped coming.

It didn’t really worry any of the Amity Parker's at the time everyone figured that people were realizing it was not safe to Visit anymore. They were upset and were starting to see that the GIW were no longer the funny MIB rip offs that shoots like a storm-trooper, they were more Dangerous than the Ghost.

The Ghost may have caused some property damage and caused a few inconveniences, but they never went out of their way to hurt anyone. The GIW had now actively killed the people they claimed to protect. Danny’s parents refused to work with them after that and started to notice things about the ghost around them. It shocked them and had shaken their faith in the GIW when Boxy had actively tried to save the Tourist while he was actively being shot at. By the time they had run across him bonding to Lunch Lady They had completely abandoned the notion that Ghost were non-sentient.

It had shown then that Humans can be the real Monsters in the story. There were kids on the Bus that had been Burned alive and if it wouldn’t have caused them more trouble the GIW would have taken every single one of them for experimentation. Danny and Jazz had been so relieved that their parent did not agree with the GIW about the experiments. It had made him feel a lot better when he had finally told them he was Phantom because he knew that he would not be ending up as one of their experiments.

He couldn’t move the Bindings were too tight and they Burned it helped just thinking of the past. In the back of his mind, he knew he was going into obsession failure. It was a lot like shock, but it could be even deadlier, and it was even more dangerous for first time obsession failure. He knew he if he didn’t pull himself together, he could risk his Core Cracking. If his Core Cracked, he had a 10% chance of not fading. If he managed to pull himself out of the Obsession Failure it would be less dangerous each time.

Normally when a ghost started to have an obsession failure the elders of their Farid would use their core energy to support them until they could heal. As it was, He was alone, and he was not doing so well he couldn’t get overt the fact that he had lost one of his subjects when he was right there. It was worse because he knew Klemper the 30 Tourist were hard because he hadn’t been there to help but this was worse. He wanted his parents and his Ghost parent. “Clocky Help” he managed to say around the muzzle before he finally managed to pass out Luckily the suppressor cuffs kept him in his Ghost form.

Agent O looked onto Phantom wondering where Agent E was, he was in charge of all the wet work for experimentation and was supposed to be back from vacation today. This was one of the few protocols that he hated but he knew it was needed. They only had a limited number of specimens, and they had to make every experiment count. He just wished that they could get started, it had taken so long to get Phantom, and he didn’t want them to escape. Though looking at the green glassy eyes he didn’t think it would happen anytime soon.

Clockwork and Frostbite saw the glassy eyed stare on the young king and Agent O’s look of discussed on the Time Mirrors.

“He is going into Core shock” Growled Frostbite.

“He is and he will survive it” hissed Clockwork his tail lashing like an angry cat he was not happy with what needed to happen. If he didn’t know the hell that was about to rained down on them in a few hours he would have gotten Danny. Timeline be dammed, as it was, he knew his sister would be a good step in for the battle. He was a good fighter but, in this case, he was compromised and if he got involved too much it would lead to a lot more pain for Danny. He tilted his head to a different Mirror “I will not be able to go until the end of the battle, but she will give them the retribution they deserve.”

Frostbite looked at the Mirror Clockwork had pointed at. It showed Morrigan with a dead clock falling from her hands, her hair was wild and had black feathers sticking out along with arm and leg guards of black metal and feathered details on them. The little Curl of Black makeup on her left eye was sharp as ever with an outline of red and she had a black feathered shoulder guard on. She was standing away from the GIW base “They’re so Screwed” he said in surprise and awe.

Clockwork nodded Morrigan was the middle child and while he was always ready to through hands his sister was the one to Burn it all down. He watched as Morrigan’s Crows circled around bringing her the information they would need to get in faster. “True but there is no such thing as over kill in love and war.” They watched Morrigan Turn as three portals opened behind her….

Previous AO3

[cuecrynsleep]

Amangela AU but it’s a rough draft;

Soulmate AU where after you turn a certain age, the day after, you get a soulmate timer. It counts down the days until you meet your soulmate/the days since you met your soulmate.

-

Amanda has had her soulmate timer for a while. By the time her soulmate timer says “00:19:45” (aka 19 hours, 45 minutes left) it’s daunting if anything. Then that day it’s announced that some of the new hirees will be coming in tomorrow morning. That thought alone is ever so present in Amanda’s mind and she doesn’t want whatever soulmate jargon to effect her work at Smosh, if one of the new hirees did end up being her soulmate.

She does her usual routine of driving to a nearby coffee place before showing up at Smosh. Her mind isn’t on her soulmate timer as she’s more so focused on getting to her first shoot of the day. She passes by the new hirees as they were getting a tour of the Smosh Office, being quickly introduced to the four by Shayne. She doesn’t notice the ever so slightest tingle on her wrist, and continues on with her day.

By the time it’s the end of work, a few people at Smosh decided to end their day at the bar. Tommy points out her soulmate timer that now read “-00:10:19” meaning she met her soulmate roughly ten hours ago. She probably should’ve paid more attention to her soulmate timer. It was just hard to focus on that when she had more daunting things to focus on.

Her mind briefly thought of anyone significant at the coffee place from that morning, as well as the new additions at Smosh. As soon as Angela passes through her head she shakes the thought away. She had just met these people not even a day ago and to already think about one of them in a romantic context felt wrong. It didn’t matter if it was inevitable because of a timer on her wrist, after all she didn’t like living her life as such. All she wanted to do was to live it all naturally. Not forced by some timer on her wrist that made her feel like she had to talk to someone because it was fate.

-

Angela gets her soulmate timer whilst working at Smosh. The first thing she notices when waking up that day was the new addition of her soulmate timer on her wrist. The ink read so clearly “-1,242:01:10” She honestly saw the number ridiculous at first, given how high it was. The moment she read it she couldn’t help but rub at the ink, as if that’d make the timer change. Whilst getting ready for work she gets an expected call from Chanse, the latter reminding her the day before that she’d get her soulmate mark. She hadn’t always cared about the phenomenon, definitely not as much as others.

“How the hell am I supposed to remember who I met over a thousand days ago?”

“No one expects you to,” Chanse chuckles. “Now you just have to find who has the exact same time as you.”

“Wonderful,” she sarcastically quipped.

“I’ll help you out during work. I’ll just have to subtly look at some people’s wrists.”

“Yeah, that’s assuming they’re from work and they already have their soulmate mark anyway,” she said offhandedly.

If her brain happened to think about Amanda first she wouldn’t mention it. After all, surely there was no way. She didn’t want to start her day with some false hope. Not only for her, but also her soulmate. because in some way having hopes on who her soulmate is felt unfair to them. Even if she didn’t know who it was.

Angela couldn’t tell if Chanse was joking or not. She would get her answer when Chanse gave her a thumbs down after getting a look at the camera man’s wrist. He wasn’t annoying about it and didn’t do it to everyone. If anything he did it three times before the bit would get old. He even did it twice with people who already found their soulmate. He knew Angela wanted to discover her soulmate at her own time, naturally. So, of course, he’d respect that.

She let life pass her by as she went through her mental checklist of the day. After a short shoot for the main Smosh channel she had a meeting with Spencer, Amanda, Courtney, and Trevor about instructions on a game they had to play later today for a Smosh Games shoot. She hadn’t had the time to see Amanda in the morning so it felt only natural to immediately bring her into a hug.

As she pulls apart from the hug, albeit unwillingly she gets a quick glance at Amanda’s wrist. Only did she see the familiar number of days in the thousands, yet the moment she did she felt her heart beating against her chest. Without any warning she grabbed Amanda’s wrist, putting her arm down next to her own. Their soulmate timers next to each other, showing the same number.

“-1,242:05:43”

Then as if they needed more proof they watched as the 43 minutes turned to 44 minutes. Amanda was her soulmate.

Angela was pulled into a hug, she could feel Amanda’s lips so close to her ear as she whispered in a soft voice. “I’m so glad, you’re my soulmate.”

[sleepanonymous]

Okay so. I have so many people to respond to and I promise I will, just not tonight. I wanted to give a quick update about the ritual below the cut (because I know some people like going in not knowing the setlist.) Again, typing this all on my phone so my apologies for heavy typos and any incoherence.

As a preface I just got back to my hotel, showered quickly, absolutely fucking sobbed in the shower for like two minutes, and I’m now eating uncle ben’s ready rice straight out of the bag because I don't have a fork or spoon. If that doesn’t scream hot mess idk what would.

First things first: the security/staff at Arizona Financial Theatre are all amazing. Literal fucking angels. Two of them hung out with us in line all day, letting us go inside to use the bathroom and refill water bottles and the guys at the barricade were so friendly and chatty and also handed out water. Literally everyone was so helpful and friendly and nice and they deserve all the good things in life.

Second: Empire State Bastard really wasn’t clicking with me until I saw them live. They’re an absolute vibe live plus the drummer and bassist are both babes. The band were constantly thanking us for showing up early and listening to them (tbh the venue was only half full until about 10 minutes before Sleep Token went on). Literally seemed like such humble and chill dudes.

Third!!! I almost don’t even know what to say about Sleep Token. There’s sooo much I could literally rant for hours but I also need to sleep so I can drive to Albuquerque in the morning. I recorded 5ish songs I think? Mostly the TPWBYT songs but I did get the summoning too. No idea if the footage is any good but we’ll see tomorrow. I made it a point not to have my phone out after finding out the setlist because there was no way in hell I was missing TNDNBTG live while on barricade. Maybe I should preface this next bit with I one hundred thousand present realize this sounds delusional of me, but everyone on the barricade had their phones out and Vessel fucking focused on me because of it. He was singing one of my favorite sleep token songs directly to me! There’s literally nowhere else he could have been looking! he was on the edge of the stage looking straight down at me and we were pointing at each other and I’m fucking dying reliving it because I was singing so horribly and cringy back at him. Like I’m so sorry vessel but my life was changing in that moment. I became a new woman the second you pointed at me.

I kept my phone away for the first several songs tbh and he kept coming back to stand in front of me but never made such heavy eye/mask contact (until Euclid). I actually almost feel like I disappointed him when I did pull my phone out to start recording because he practically avoided me after that. its actually why I decided not to record Euclid, though I knew it was coming and it was the song’s debut. AND IT FUCKING WORKED!! He came back around and was singing to me again, same stance, same obvious eye contact except this time I was literally Ugly Crying™️ at him. Tears were streaming, I had one hand holding onto the barricade for dear life, and the other clamped tightly around my mouth ugly crying. Even my buddies and the security were concerned that’s how bad it was.

In all honesty I can’t pretend that it wasn’t “scripted” like the band hadn’t planned every move on stage beforehand. They first and foremost are performers and Vessel literally sings to every girl on the barricade right in front of him. But it also felt so special and I feel so bad for breaking down like I did 😅🤣😭😫🫠

Okay I need to stop ranting, I’ve been up for 20 hours and this is most likely incoherent anyway. I love all of you and I hope everyone who’s able to get barricade this tour gets to experience the same thing I did🖤🖤🖤

[as-everlasting-as-the-sun]

i went to the Terrible Influence Tour in Phoenix on sunday, which was my first time going to a tour ever, and had a blast!! :D somehow dan and phil are even more funny and endearing irl if that’s possible

(standing outside for an hour in almost 100 degree weather was worth it honestly, i honestly barely noticed bc i was so excited. at least it was in the shade thankfully)

i got to go the the preshow q&a which was so much fun, i ended up recording some but not all of it.

the vip silver merch included w the ticket had a tote bag, a 5-pack of photocards w a guaranteed shiny, a dnp lanyard, a “very important phan” friendship bracelet, and a small poster! (there was also a very nice phannie there giving out friendship bracelets, if anyone knows who they were lmk!!)

these are the photocards i got!!

there were special dan and phil cocktails (and “good influence” lemonades) which dnp had ofc, it may have made the show slightly better lmao. the cocktails were both very good and they all came with cool glow straws :3

this was also where the iconic “married life” dan tiktok was posted so i thank Celebrity Theatre for these things

my favorite songs on their preshow playlist were Starburned and Unkissed by Caroline Polachek which was made for the I Saw The TV Glow soundtrack (i know they picked this for their trans audience, ps watch isttvg if u haven’t please), Lunch by Billie Eilish (iconic for the bis), and Hot To Go which most of the audience was singing and dancing along to ofc (u can see this on the phoenix celebrity theatre’s insta story from that day)

there was cool art on the wall right before the stairwell!! :)

i went with my mom and brother (who i converted into a phan last year! sry if u see this eric) and my mom is now fully invested in dnp! i’m pretty sure she ended up screaming louder than anyone else there and was waving around a “dan and phil made me gay” T-shirt lmao

i also got to meet a friend i found on tumblr bc of this tour which was prob the best part besides getting to see dnp!! ^u^ dan actually called their fit slay which it very much was.

yes I realize we’re covering up their names it was very hectic okay.

i got the “parasocial social club” shirt and my mom ended up buying me the “dan and phil made me gay! and all i got was this lousy tshirt” and the “dan and phil are my dads” hat which i was very happy about!

and a golden pig shot, they were the real star ⭐️🐷

it was an incredible experience for my first tour!! somehow even after being 10 feet away from dan and phil im still not convinced they’re real tangible people. here’s hoping it’s not the last tour they do and next time maybe i’ll get a meet and greet ticket, but this was the most fun ive ever had 💙🖤 (u know i had to say it.)

[hearrtsturns]

Tour - Matt Sturniolo

Pairing: Dom!matt x Reader

Summary: You are going to tour to meet Matt Nick and Chris and things take a wild turn

Warning: unprotected sex (no no), p in v, hair gripping, mouth fucking, public (kinda?)

Authors note: requested by anon!!

————————————————————————————————

You had just bought the last tickets for the Versus tour in Salt Lake City, you were so excited and thanked your parents almost every second of the day

You were doing your makeup and planning your outfit when you get a text from your best friend, who was also going to the tour

“Hey when are you leaving they open the doors at 3:30.” She texted

It was 10:30 so you were probably gonna leave around 11:30 just to get there early so you didn’t have to wait in a long line

“Around 11:30.” You replied

She left you on read and you assumed she was getting ready

You finished your makeup and changed into your blue shirt with the ripped jeans you’ve just bought for this occasion

It was 11:17 and you were sitting on your bed until your mom called you down to get ready to leave

You slipped your old dirty converse on and ran out the door to the car, you were really excited

- 2 hours later -

We just pulled into a parking lot, payed for parking, and parked

We started walking towards the building which had a line of people wearing blue, purple, and orange

We got in line and waited 2 hours to get in

Once it was our turn to get our wristbands I grew extremely shy, but you were also excited which made it really weird

After you got your wristband you walked inside and saw people waiting to see the triplets

You turned around for one second and heard a bunch of people screaming “oh my god!” You whipped back around and saw the triplets walking up the stairs you rolled your eyes

- 30 minutes later -

You’ve been waiting in a line to get in the auditorium for 30 minutes and you were growing impatient until it was your turn to enter

You heard they’re opening song playing and got excited

Once Matt, Nick, and Chris came out you screamed your heart out until they told you to settle down so they can pick people to come on stage

“Okay uhh, wait Nick wanna pick first?” Chris said

“Yeah, her.” He points to a girl in purple with brown hair and she walks up to the stage

“Ok I’ll pick that girl, you see her in the orange?” Chris says

“Dude there is so many people wearing orange..” Matt says rolling his eyes

“Anyways I pick..” he looks around for a moment

His eyes suddenly lock with yours “uh I pick you.” He says

“Me?” I say pointing to myself

“Yup.” Matt says

I look at my friend and run through he crowd to get on stage

Once we are all on stage they began explaining the rules

I was standing by Matt when he looked over at me and winked,

I began looking around to see if anyone saw it and obviously not

We began playing the games.

- 2 hours later -

Chris won but we weren’t mad we were more happy for him

I began to get off stage because everyone was leaving including Nick and Chris but Matt placed his hand on my shoulder and stopped me

“Hey..” he said

“Hi?” I said raising an eyebrow

“Meet me at the bathrooms.” He winked again and began to walk away

I walk to the bathrooms shortly after only to see Matt waiting there, once he saw me he started walking towards me

He grabbed my hand and lead me outside, I was confused when I saw him walking towards the back of the building where his tour bus was.

“Where are we going?” I asked

“Just follow me..don’t ask questions okay?” He replied trying not to be seen or heard. The last thing that could happen is you guys getting caught together especially because the tour is over and everyone is leaving now

I nodded and followed him to his tour bus

Once I was inside their tour bus Matt asked me “How old are you?”

“Oh im 19..why?” You said raising an eyebrow

Matt look me up and down and smashed his lips into mine

Passionately, we continued to makeout until Matt broke the kiss

He grabbed my head and pushed me down until i was on my knees, he looked down at me and said “help..?” with a grin he pointed to his pants specifically the zipper, I began to unzip his pants

I pulled his pants down along with his boxers, immediately he grabbed my head and i was bobbing up and down on his cock

His dick was hitting the back of my throat and i was sure that as fast as he was thrusting into my throat, the whole tour bus was shaking

I was practically crying from all the gagging and moving i was doing, it was just the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat so hard

He dick twitched and he immediately pulled out not wanting to cum just yet

My head fell back, spit was hanging from my chin and i was catching my breath when he grabbed me and helped me up, took of my pants and slipped my panties to the side, he bent me over a table and moved his tip through my folds

I moaned at the teasing action when he suddenly pushed into me, i groaned adjusting to his size

He began to thrust into me slowly and got faster pretty quick, my tits were bouncing and hitting my chest over and over again

He bit his lip and groaned, soon he brushed my g spot and i moaned slightly

“Right there?” He started thrusting in the same spot faster i moaned louder, he covered my mouth with his hand and said “we can’t get caught.” He chuckled

i felt the knot in my stomach build up, “im gonna c-cum!” I whined

“What?” He chuckled “im gonna c-“ the knot snapped before i would warn again

“Do you want me to cum inside you..?” He said smirking, still thrusting

I nodded, “use your words.” He demanded still thrusting pretty fast “God!, oh- oh, yes matt! Fuck!” He released inside of you still thrusting making sure his release was deep inside of you

He pulled out, buttoned up his jeans and “helped” you. The only thing he did was put your panties back and helped you up, you pulled your jeans up and he walked you to fridge and gave you a bottle of water as soon as you grabbed the water you felt paper you didn’t look but kept walking as he was leading you to the door of the tour bus

He let you out and waved goodbye as if he didn’t just fuck the shit out of a fan, as you were walking back to your car still in shock of what happened you looked at the paper it said “call me” with his number “xxx-xxx-xxxx.” With a smiley face

————————————————————————————————————

Part 2?… sorry for posting late babesss

Tag list- @hysteria-things @mattsleftnipple03 @tillies33ssss @ineedchriscock

[superlarva]

They're totally paying attention! :)

Welp, I'm starting to think I don't know what day Sunday is...

Regardless, here's Chapter 9 - School Visit of Raising Dominoes.

Prologue: 00 Previous chapter: 08 Next chapter: 10

Summary: Rex and Fives visit the local elementary school.

CW: Implied/referenced child abuse, a very minor curse (I wouldn't really consider it a curse, but just to be careful... also, it's said in narration, not dialogue)

Chapter 9 – School Visit

“I want to see Echo.”

“I know, bud,” Rex sighed, trying not to let the exasperation show in his voice.

Fives had been at it since he woke, refusing to move, eat, or say anything that did not express his want for his twin. Now they sat in the elementary school parking lot, two hours late for their appointment with the principal.

“Fives?”

The boy did not stir from his position curled up in his car seat.

“Fives, look at me,” Rex said, exhaustion allowing some of his usual sternness to slip into his tone.

The kid’s shoulders tensed and his eyes reluctantly wandered over to Rex’s.

“We are going to go see Echo as soon as his doctor tells me it’s safe to see him, okay?”

“Want Echo n-now,” Fives whispered.

His words lacked the high-pitched whiney quality Rex had been expecting and he blinked dumbly, taken aback. The last thing Rex wanted to do was keep the brothers apart. He knew the feeling that accompanied the separation from one you admire, trust, need. He knew the feeling well, and he would not wish it on his worst enemy, let alone his child.

Rex slumped back into the seat and began unconsciously picking at the sleeve of his jacket, mind whirring and leg bouncing erratically, “When- when I was your age, me and your Uncle Cody—er, Cody and I—we, uh, didn’t really have a mom or dad to take care of us.”

Rex paused to take a breath, still unsure where exactly he was going with this story. He could feel Fives’s eyes boring into him and he squirmed, unable to meet the boy’s gaze, “We got sent to a lot of different homes where different people would, uh, take care of us, but sometimes… sometimes they would split us up. Sometimes we wouldn’t go together.”

Rex stole a quick glance at Fives. The boy was staring, waiting for him to continue. Rex attempted a smile, but could not help but feel like it more resembled a grimace. He sighed, hands moving to fidget with the zipper of his jacket, “Every time they separated us, I felt so lost and powerless. There was nothing- nothing I could do, and I never knew when I would be able to see Cody again. And- and I hated it. It was the worst feeling.”

Rex turned to meet Fives’s eyes, “So, I get it. I really do. I know you want to see Echo. I want to see him too. If I could do anything I wanted, I’d bring you to him right now.”

“…you would?” Fives asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“I would.”

“I-I don’t want to go without Echo,” Fives mumbled, turning his attention towards the elementary school.

“We have to go take a look at the school because I told them we were coming and they are all super excited to meet you,” Rex said, starting to regret his decision to not include Fives when he and Cody called the school to set up a meeting and tour. “It’s going to be really fun. They’re going to show you around and tell you about all the cool things you’re going to learn.”

Fives made a face, “Echo should be here. Not me.”

Rex felt as if he had just been stabbed in the heart, “No. No, you should be here.”

Fives scoffed and turned his head so his face was obscured from Rex’s view.

“No, Fives, listen to me. You should be here. Echo should be here too, but you should be here. I- you-” Rex sighed, letting his head fall into his hands. He wished Cody were here. He would know what to say.

Cut would know what to say too. He had kids. Little rascals, if Rex remembered correctly. He had to make everything into a game for those kids to do anything. Putting away dishes: who can stack them the neatest? Time to get in the car: who can get there the fastest?

A game.

Of course.

Rex lifted his head out of his hands, “If we go in and take the tour and you remember what they tell you, then when we go see Echo this weekend, you can tell him all about it. Think he would like that?”

Fives turned to face Rex again and hesitated, eyes searching Rex’s for something, before nodding seriously.

Rex smiled, “Sounds like a deal.”

The secretary had them wait on a bench outside the principal’s office until he was ready for them. Given the fact that they had arrived later than expected, Rex had thought the principal would leave them waiting, but almost as soon as they sat, the door opened.

“Good afternoon, young one. I am Mr. Plo Koon,” A tall man that Rex recognized as the principal of the school greeted, smiling down fondly at Fives.

The boy jumped to his feet and stood stiff as a board, almost as if he were standing at attention, “G-good afternoon, Mr. Plo Koon, s-sir.”

The principal’s smile deepened, “My, what lovely manners. You must be Fives?”

Fives nodded, “Yes, sir.”

“Many of the students here call me Mr. Plo, but ‘Mr. Plo Koon’ or ‘sir’ is alright too if that’s what you’re comfortable with.”

“Oh-Okay Mr.- Mr.-” Fives looked up at Rex uncertainly.

Rex nodded and smiled encouragingly.

Fives turned back to the principal, “Okay, Mr. Plo.”

“Very good,” Plo said, beaming down at Fives and clasping his hands together. He then shut the door to his office and began leading them down the hall, “Shall we begin our tour?”

The school was nice. It had clearly been remodeled a few years ago as it had a very modern interior design and was relatively free from wear and tear that would denote that it was the home of tiny grade schoolers for eight hours a day.

They were shown the cafeteria, auditorium, gym, library, and the rooms for the various different extracurricular activities like art and music, all of which Fives marveled at for their large open spaces, walls and walls of books, or amenities.

Mr. Plo was clearly taking pleasure in Fives’s wonder and Rex could not help but enjoy the boy’s delight as well. He was glad that the tour had allowed his mind to wander from Echo, even if just for the good part of an hour.

At the end of the tour, they circled back around and stopped outside of one of the classrooms they had passed on the way to the library. Plo turned to address Rex and Fives, “This one of our second-grade classrooms. If you want, the teacher of this class volunteered to let us sit in on a few minutes so that you could see what it would be like to go here. Would you like that?”

Fives nodded eagerly.

The principal smiled and opened the door. Fives bounded in after him and Rex followed quickly, pulling the door shut behind them.

When Rex looked up he found a class full of 7 year old twisting around in their desks trying to get a good look at him and Fives. The class was eerily quiet and Rex was thankful when the teacher standing at the front broke the silence, “Good afternoon, Principal Plo.”

Mr. Plo nodded, “Good afternoon, 99. Good afternoon, second grade.”

The teacher—99—led the class in a chorus of “Good afternoon, Principal Plo” as Plo ushered them to an empty table in the corner of the class.

Once they were seated, 99 resumed his lesson and Rex scanned the classroom. It was as well put together as the rest of the school. It was bright and colorful, and there was plenty of stimulus for young children.

Rex also got a better look at 99. At first from his voice, stature, and the wrinkles lining his face, Rex had thought the man old like his name, but as he looked closer, he realized the man was not elderly, just had some sort of facial deformity. Perhaps a muscle one as well, as he looked awfully thin and hunched over oddly as he walked.

The children in the class appeared to be engaged and attentive, save for a group of similar-looking boys in the other back corner.

The big bald boy was playing with a toy half hidden under his desk, his face lighting up with joy occasionally from his own, internal musings. His stature was intimidating for a seven-year-old, but such an innocence played out in his eyes that Rex had to believe the kid would not hurt a fly. At least, not on purpose.

The second boy had long wavy hair, pushed back by a red bandana. He was staring out the window, boredom etched across his features. Rex thought he looked a little like Cody when he was fed up someone’s bullshit.

The scrawny one with glasses appeared to be scribbling notes in the margins of a book. He might have been taking notes on 99’s instructions, but Rex doubted it, as no other children had books out to take notes in and the boy was hunched over it like it was the only thing that existed.

The fourth boy was sleeping. Wispy white hair sticking out in all directions as his head rested on his folded arms across the desk. Even through the oversized hoodie Rex could tell by the boy’s pointy elbows that he practically had Fives and Echo beat for the “most emaciated kid of the week” award.

Mr. Plo noticed the direction of Rex’s gaze and gave him a small nudge, “Those are the quadruplets. They transferred here this year. Bit of a special case, those boys. Not so different from yours, perhaps.”

Rex took one last look at the brothers before turning his attention back to 99’s mini lecture. He hoped Fives and Echo would behave differently from those boys at school. He hoped they would at least try to pay attention.

After sitting in on 99’s lesson, Mr. Plo lead them back to his office and had them sit across the desk from him. He laced his fingers together and leaned his elbows on the desk, smiling warmly at Fives, “Did you enjoy the tour?”

The boy nodded, “Mm-hmm!”

“I’m glad,” Plo glanced quickly over at Rex, then turned his attention back to Fives, “Now, your father told me that you’ve never been to school before, is that true?”

Fives looked to Rex before cautiously letting out a small “uh-huh.”

“Okay, that’s alright. Would it be okay if I asked you a few questions?”

“What kind of questions?”

“Well, your dad told me you were really good at math, so I wanted to ask you some math questions. Then we might play a couple games. Is that alright?”

Fives’s brow crinkled and his eyes darted between Mr. Plo and Rex. From the look Rex didn’t doubt Fives knew this was a test, but the boy eventually shrugged and muttered a quiet affirmative.

Fives made it all the way through to multiplication before he started having problems answering the principal’s questions. He clearly did not know his times tables, but from what Rex could remember, that still meant he was on track for second grade.

After the math questions Mr. Plo pulled out a few logic puzzles and had Fives complete them. Fives seemed to do so without difficulty, filling in the picture with the correct puzzle pieces and picking the right color to finish the pattern.

The principal seemed quite pleased with the boy as he put the puzzles away, “You did a very good job, Fives. I just have one more question for you if that’s okay.”

Fives nodded, though Rex could not help but notice that the kid looked tired.

Mr. Plo slid a piece of paper and a pencil across the table, “Could you write your name for me?”

The boy visibly deflated a bit, but he said nothing and reached out, gripping the pencil awkwardly. At first Rex had no clue what Fives was writing; the lines were large and wobbly, curving in places they should not. By the time the boy got to the second vaguely “s” shaped letter, Rex realized what “name” he had been writing and reached out gently to still Fives’s arm.

Large brown eyes looked up at Rex in confusion.

“Fives…” Rex started softly, “That’s your other name. Could you spell ‘Fives’ for us?”

Fives squirmed in his seat, looking down at the paper for a long moment before meeting Rex’s eyes, “This is the only one I’ve seen before.”

“Okay, that’s okay,” Rex whispered, and he honestly was not sure if that was for his son’s benefit or his own. He reached out and flipped the paper over, “Do you know what letter ‘Fives’ starts with?”

The boy opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. The room was so quiet Rex could practically hear the tears welling in Fives’s eyes before he saw them. He sprung into action, scooping up the already shaking boy and shushing him softly, hoping to stay the torrent of “I’m sorry”s that were sure to follow.

“It’s okay,” Rex soothed, shooting an apologetic look to Plo before turning his attention back to Fives. “It’s alright if you don’t know. Nobody’s mad. I’m not mad. Mr. Plo’s not mad. It’s okay.”

Fives sniffled against Rex, but Rex could tell the boy was already calming down, his breathing slowing to his usual rhythm.

Rex set Fives back down in his seat, but kept his hand on the boy's shoulder, “Today was a tough day, but you did a really good job, okay? A really good job. I’m proud of you.”

Fives wiped at his eyes, his ears turning a bit red as he mumbled a shy thanks.

Mr. Plo cleared his throat, “Thank you so much for answering my questions, Fives.”

The boy nodded.

Plo continued, “I would like to place you in the class that we sat in on today, if that sounds good to you. The other children will be your age and will be on similar levels in most subjects.”

The principal paused and studied Fives, “Now, Fives, you’re a smart boy and you’re probably going to notice that the other kids in your class are better at reading than you, but can I tell you a secret?”

Fives frowned and looked from Rex to Mr. Plo.

Plo leaned over the desk and lowered his voice conspiratorially, “Your intuition and logic skills are beyond those of many children twice your age.”

Fives shifted in his seat, “R-really?”

The principal nodded, “It’s quite impressive. You'll be reading in no time.”

Fives left the school with higher spirits than when he had entered and that was enough to convince Rex it was the right place to send the twins. As he was setting up for Fives to start the next week and for Echo to start after the holiday break his phone rang.

It was Kix.

"What?" Fives asked after Rex hung up.

Rex smiled, "Go get in the car, we're going to go see your brother."

@marierg @stressed-cherry @ffdemon @renton6echo @bambambunny @tearfulsolace @rndmpeep @brokenphoenix99 @nerdy-valkyrie @xylionet @tazmbc1 @eyayah123 @the-bad-batch-baroness @sarcastic-nebula @ihaventpickedausername @sexysmeagolshitposting @emma-1409 @marcadamia

[misfitwashere]

Followers, This will be my last reblog of Professor Reich's newsletters as he now has his own Tumblr. Please follow him.

***

ROBERT REICH

MAR 28

READ IN APP

Friends,

I’m not going to sugarcoat this. We’re in the worst national emergency of our lives. 

It is not coming directly from threats we should be coping with — climate change destroying our planet, another pandemic threatening millions of lives, artificial intelligence taking over our jobs and brains, nuclear proliferation threatening the future of life on earth. 

No. This national emergency is coming from a madman determined to turn America into a dictatorship and from his crazed assistants, including the richest person in the world. 

What can I say that’s even remotely encouraging at this point? 

Six things. 

1. Voters are furious.

On Tuesday, Democrats flipped a Trump-voting seat in the Pennsylvania state Senate. James Malone defeated a well-funded and well-known Republican, Josh Parsons, in Lancaster County. Malone openly campaigned against Trump and Musk and made sure his opponent was tied to them. 

This was a red Republican area that went +15 for Trump in 2024. The last time a Democrat won this seat was in 1889.

Other state and federal districts are showing the same trajectory — away from Trump and Musk. 

2. Bernie and AOC are drawing record crowds. 

Some 34,000 people turned out at Civic Center Park in Denver to hear Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders and New York Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez in a “Fighting Oligarchy Tour.” As Bernie said: “We will not allow America to become an oligarchy. This nation was built by working people, and we are not going to let a handful of billionaires run the government.”

It was the biggest rally of Bernie’s entire career, including his presidential races. Hours later, the two spoke before a crowd of about 11,000 at the University of Northern Colorado in Greeley.

Elon Musk was so spooked he started peddling conspiracy theories about inflated crowd sizes and “paid” protesters.

According to YouGov, Sanders is the most popular politician in the country, with a +7 favorability. (Trump is -5, Vance is -8, Musk is -12, GOP is -15. Schumer is -33, and the Democratic Party as a whole is -35.)

3. April 5 protests are planned everywhere. 

On April 5, 2025, Americans are hitting the streets. The “Hands Off!” movement — in response to Trump’s and Musk’s devastation — is the product of a large coalition. You can find the action nearest you by typing in “April 5 demonstration near me” on your browser. General information from one of the sponsoring organizations can be found here.

4. Trump is fumbling on all fronts.

— “Signalgate” — the group chat scandal — isn’t just an embarrassment for Trump and his regime. It also demonstrates that they cannot govern. They can’t even manage the most elementary of steps, like making sure they’re meeting secretly and securely. 

At best, both Pete Hegseth and National Security Adviser Mike Waltz — not to mention the White House comms operation — are damaged goods. There is no administration in the world, beyond this one, where a blunder of these proportions happens and nobody gets fired or resigns. 

Leaders of the Senate Armed Services Committee — Chair Roger Wicker (R-Miss.) and ranking member Jack Reed (D-R.I.) — have sent a letter to the Pentagon’s acting inspector general requesting a formal investigation over “the use of unclassified networks to discuss sensitive and classified information, as well as the sharing of such information with those who do not have proper clearance and need to know.”

— The economy is in deep trouble. Consumer confidence continues to plummet amid growing worries about inflation and recession. Trump’s tariffs — both those already implemented and those proposed — are already raising prices across the board. 

— The Trump-Musk DOGE is threatening popular programs. DOGE cuts caused the Social Security website to crash four times in 10 days, leaving millions of recipients unable to log in. Office managers are answering phones instead of receptionists because so many Social Security employees have been laid off. Phone services have been eliminated. Field offices are being cut. 

Meanwhile, Trump-Musk DOGE cuts to the Federal Emergency Management Agency are already causing thousands of Americans who have lost their homes in floods and fires to do without any aid. 

5. Trump’s polls are plummeting. 

As a result of all of the above, Americans are turning on Trump. Although I’m not a huge believer in individual polls, I pay attention when every major poll shows the same thing: 

YouGov poll taken 3/22 to 3/25, Trump’s disapproval (49 percent) exceeds approval (48 percent).

Reuters/Ipsos taken 3/21 to 3/23 is even worse. His disapproval is 51 percent and approval only 45 percent. 

Morning Consult poll taken 3/21 to 3/23 shows his disapproval at 50 percent and approval at 47 percent. 

American Research Group poll taken 3/17 to 3/20 shows his disapproval at 51 percent and approval at 45 percent.

An NBC News poll taken 3/7 to 3/11 shows that a majority of Americans (52 percent) are disappointed with Trump’s appointees — a higher percentage than at the start of Trump’s first term, or at the start of Obama’s, George W. Bush’s, or Clinton’s. 

6. The courts continue to hold Trump and Musk in check, but for how long?

Federal judges are requiring that Trump reinstate 25,000 federal workers he fired; blocking the Trump regime from banning transgender people from the military; stopping ICE and the Department of Homeland Security from detaining several international graduate students for participating in demonstrations or adding their names to dissenting publications; and stopping ICE from deporting people without due process of law. 

All told, over 60 federal courts have halted or pushed back against the Trump-Musk onslaught. Only three have found Trump and/or Musk to be following the law. 

The massive pushback from the federal courts has led Trump to threaten federal judges. It has also led Republican House Speaker Mike Johnson to suggest potentially defunding, restructuring, or eliminating the federal courts altogether. “We do have the authority over the federal courts, as you know. We can eliminate an entire district court,” Johnson said.

***

These six morsels of hope are small relative to the damage Trump and Musk are doing, but I wanted to let you know that all is not lost; there is push-back against them. 

The damage is likely to accelerate in weeks to come. 

Trump is gearing up his attacks on lawyers and law firms that during Trump’s first term challenged him or offered pro bono services to nonprofits that challenged him.

His Justice Department is just beginning to target his enemies.

His mass raids on alleged undocumented workers and deportations are just getting started. 

His (and RFK Junior’s) campaign against vaccinations is already costing lives, including those of children who were not vaccinated against measles. 

America has never been subject to this degree of cruelty, incompetence, and disregard for democratic norms. 

My hope is that this horrific experience will lead to a new era of fundamental reform — of our economy, our democracy, and our commitment to social justice and the rule of law. 

I hope this is not too much to hope for.

[enjoythesilentworld]

Simon's Month - Travel

day 10! @youngroyals-events <3 tack för allt

Simon and Wille take on a new city, and a new tour, and Simon neglects to read the fine print (again).

Or, FoodTour!Wilmon part 2

read below or on ao3 (M, 2.5k) (cw: implied sexual content)

As it turns out, Wille’s embarking on a solo travel trip had been even more spontaneous than Simon. He’d told Simon, that next morning over breakfast, that he’d spent his whole life having every trip planned out for him down to the second — fancy hotels and yacht tours and five-star restaurants — so he felt it was necessary to try zero planning for once. So, allegedly, he’d just bought the first plane ticket he found and left, and has been living night to night in hostels for a few weeks now. All for the sake of freedom, or choices, or something like that. 

Wille cites this reasoning when Simon asks what he wants to do, and he simply says, “Whatever you want to do. Really, Simon. I just like spending time with you.” 

Simon isn’t totally certain if he’s being truthful. Surely there are other things Wille would rather do than follow Simon around the city all day. But, he’s so flattered by Wille’s adoring gaze and entertained by his jokes that Simon decides to keep him around, anyway. 

They spend a few more days wandering around Barcelona. It’d become obvious that booking romantic food tours, as fun as it had been, wasn’t the most economical activity. So, instead, they hit all the popular spots. They climb to the top of church towers for windy-swept selfies, stealing kisses in the tight stairwells. They get wine-tipsy over lunch then stumble through museums, muffling their giggles into each other’s skin. At the end of each day, they end up on the beach, lounging in chairs and soaking up the sun, or tackling each other into the water and reveling in the coolness of it. 

One of said evenings, still a few hours before sunset, he turns to Wille over their makeshift beach-picnic dinner. 

“Tonight’s my last night here.”

Wille looks at him with guarded eyes. “Where are you off to next?” he asks, casually. 

Simon smiles softly. Clearly, the man is bracing for a goodbye. 

“Porto, Portugal.” 

“I hear it’s beautiful.” 

Simon hums. “Yeah, I’ve heard the same.”

Because Simon’s a bit of a shit and he’s learned enough about Wille in the past few days that he knows he can get away with it, he lets the man squirm for a bit. He watches as Wille tears the label off his soda bottle and begins to shred it into tiny pieces. 

“Where are you going next?” 

Wille shrugs. He looks a bit dejected, but is hiding it well, and Simon cracks. 

“Do you want to come to Porto with me?” Simon asks, then reaches out, grabbing Wille’s hand and stopping his attack on the damp paper label. 

A sunny, hopeful smile grows on Wille’s face, and he squeezes Simon’s hand. 

“Can I?”

Simon nods. “I’d really like it if you did. I hear it’s beautiful.” 

Wille laughs brightly and jumps over the food to tackle Simon back into the sand. Their lips meet in a sloppy kiss, half lips and half teeth because they’re both laughing now. He tastes like soda and strawberries and the warmth of him against Simon feels just as electric as it did earlier today, and the day before that, and on that first day on the pier. 

Through no small feat of luck, they book incredibly cheap flights for the next morning and grow even closer as they navigate the chaos of airports and budget airlines. In less than 24 hours after that short conversation on the beach in Barcelona, they’re standing, shoulder to shoulder, at the front desk of a hostel in Porto. 

“Private room? Or bunks in a dorm?” 

“Uh—” Simon stutters, glancing over at Wille. 

Somehow, during the hours they’d spent the night before, huddled around Simon’s phone in the hostel bar, looking up places to visit in this new city, this part had not come up. There was definitely a growing tension between them. There was only so much making out one could do before it got to be too much, and slipping into a bunk with eight other people in the room wasn’t exactly mood-setting. Maybe when he was 16, he would’ve let Wille ravish him in the hallway, stumbling down to their shared dorm room, without caring if they might be seen. Unfortunately, now that he’s an adult, he’s not too keen about the idea of stripping down for a quick one in a hostel bunk. Still, Simon would most definitely like to have a private room, so he could finally put his hands on Wille for real, but he didn’t want to presume—

“Private,” Wille says slowly, almost a question, meeting Simon’s eye. Simon bites back his grin and gives a single nod. Wille nods, too, then, more sure this time, repeats, “Private. Please.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Simon sees the small smirk on the face of the front desk person.

 

It’s still too early to get into their room, so they drop their bags and head out onto the streets, slowly meandering their way towards the river that flows through the city. Though it’d been a bit of a joke before, Porto really is beautiful with its colorful buildings, charming squares, and unreal views of terracotta roofs by the water. That, along with the low hum of people and Wille’s hand in his, brings a certain comfort to Simon. They have nowhere to be, nothing to do, except be with each other and walk down these stone streets, smiling at street vendors and pointing out pretty architecture. 

After some time of chatting and leisurely strolling along the river, they settle down for a late lunch, at a beautiful little cafe near the river, and Wille says, “We should do another tour of some sort.” 

“You’re just flush for cash, aren’t you?” Simon teases. 

He blushes lightly. “I just meant— You took me on a tour date, even if it had been a sort of accident, it feels only right that I get to take you on one now.” 

“Oh, was that a date?”

Wille sticks out his tongue and steals a bite off Simon’s plate. They get distracted for a moment, taking food from each other and laughing. Simon accidentally dips his forearm in a bit of sauce in the process and Wille licks it off sloppily. In order to not think too hard about that, Simon scrunches his face in mock disgust and pushes Wille away, giggling. 

Once they are back seated mostly in their own chairs, though they’ve shifted to sit a bit closer to each other now, Simon asks, “What kind of tour were you thinking?”

“Well,” Wille starts slowly, “I was thinking we could just do one of those sightseeing tours. You know, where you hire someone to drive you around and you see all the big attractions?” 

Simon nods, then tilts his head in confusion when Wille chews on his lip for a moment, nervous eyes flickering over Simon’s face, before continuing, “Maybe that way we get all those done in one day and we’ll have more time to spend,” he leans forward slightly, “in that private room of ours.” 

“I see,” Simon muses, leaning forward as well, until there’s only an inch or two separating them. 

“I just wish I could have one minute alone with you,” Wille breathes, gaze flitting between Simon’s eyes and lips, “without a dozen other people around.”

“We’ll just have to make that happen,” Simon whispers and moves the rest of the way to close the gap between them. It is a soft, rather quick kiss, but it holds a promise, for later. 

Though Wille refuses to let Simon pay anything, they scroll through websites together, deciding on a car tour around Porto. Simon does the booking, claiming that Portuguese is much closer to Spanish, and he’ll have an easier time making sure everything is booked correctly. That being said, he is a little distracted by thoughts of their previous conversation, and thoughts of finally having Wille alone tonight. Somehow, he successfully books their tour, handing the phone to Wille to complete the payment, and then they abandon their meal to chase each other back to the hostel. 

Simon thought he’d learned his lesson last time. Apparently he had not. (Although, with how last time had gone, with what — who — he’d found as a result of his lack of reading, there hadn’t been much of a lesson to learn. Except, maybe, don’t read the fine print and you might just find the potential love of your life.) 

The next afternoon, after many hours spent in bed but very little sleep, they show up to the agreed upon meeting place and find the small, retro car parked along the street. A small, older woman hops out of the car and greets them with a wide smile. 

She introduces herself as Leonora and they go through a whole bout of pleasantries and explanations of things to come on the tour. Then, just as Wille and Simon slide into the backseat, she asks, “So, how is the honeymoon so far?”

A small laugh bubbles up from Simon’s chest. “I’m sorry?” 

“Oh,” Leonora glances at them in the rearview, eyebrows knitted, as she drives off towards their first destination, “Did I read the reservation wrong? You booked the honeymoon package, did you not?” 

Simon tries to think back to the booking website, all the English mixed in with Portuguese and the not-built-for-mobile website. But, all his mind returns are flashes of Wille’s tongue and eyes and hands and the things he whispered in Simon’s ear. 

Floundering for how to respond, Simon turns to look at Wille, who’s grinning at him with bright, amused eyes. 

“That’s right,” Wille says cheerily, keeping his eyes locked on Simon. “The honeymoon is going great, thank you.”

He gives Simon a tiny shrug, as if to say, Why not? 

And, well, they’d seemingly successfully convinced everyone on that food tour that they were together, when really they’d just met. It wasn’t too far of a jump to pretend they’d just gotten married, even though they’d only known each other for a few days. 

It really has only been a few days, but Simon feels like it’s been longer, like he’s known Wille for years. It’s simply so easy for Simon, being with Wille. Spending time with him and listening to him ramble about art and architecture. Kissing him and running hands over his skin, trying to pull as many desperate sounds as possible. 

“Yes, I’d say it’s going very well.” Simon smiles back at him and slides across the seat to tuck into Wille’s side, placing a warm hand on his thigh. 

Leonora coos at them from the front, but thankfully doesn’t ask any questions about their non-existent wedding. Instead, she points out buildings as they pass, explaining the history and adding little personal anecdotes. 

In a sly attempt to figure out exactly what they’ve signed up for with the ‘honeymoon package’, Simon asks what the difference is between their tour and a normal tour. Apparently, along with stopping by some of the more romantic churches and gardens and lookouts in Porto, they’ll finish the tour along the coast, with a pre-organized dinner on the beach. 

It’s all rather nice, and Leonora gives a wonderful tour, but no matter what he does, Simon can’t really make himself pay attention. He tells himself it’s to convince their tour guide that they’re actually on their honeymoon, but, really, Simon just can’t keep his hands off Wille. He’s nearly sitting in the man’s lap by their third stop in the city, whispering jokes in his ear and doing everything he can to steal kisses whenever possible. Wille doesn’t seem too upset about it, giggling ceaselessly at Simon’s comments about the silly American tourists and every phallic-shaped sculpture they pass, one hand around Simon’s waist and the other holding his hand. 

Presumably because this is how every honeymoon package tour goes, Leonora doesn’t seem too plussed about it, either, continuing to spout facts about the sights even when Simon and Wille get a little too lost in each other. They do break apart occasionally for Wille to ask a question about some art installation or for both of them to hop out of the car to grab a sweet drink from a street vendor. 

Eventually, they make it to the coast, and they roll the windows down and turn the music up loud, and Simon realizes he’s missed most of the tour, too busy ‘pretending’ to be drunk in love on his honeymoon, which doesn’t feel too much like pretending anymore. Wille’s hair is whipped wild by the wind and his smile is so wide. He reaches out with both hands towards Simon, cupping his face and bringing him in for a giggly kiss. 

“Today has been really fun,” he murmurs into Simon’s ear, nipping lightly as he does so. 

Simon gulps down a breath of the fresh, salty air and tucks his face into the space between Wille’s collar and his jawline. Pure joy and heat spreads across his body.

“Yes, it has.”

Leonora pulls the car up to a parking lot, and guides them down the beach a ways, which is surprisingly uncrowded. They are led into a small cove, a spot of sand hidden away from view of the rest of the beach, tucked into the rocks. Inside the cove, there’s a small table set up with a grazing display for dinner, scattered rose petals, and a pile of pillows and blankets off to the side. 

Their tour guide bids them goodbye for now, saying she’ll be back with the car in two hours. 

Officially alone, Simon laughs at the ridiculousness as Wille takes his hand and leads him closer to the table. The food spread is a fancier version of the lunch picnic they’d been having when Simon invited Wille to join him here in Porto, all the way down to the bottles of chilled champagne and sparkling grape juice for them to sip on.

“How did we not notice the price of this? There’s no way all this was cheap,” Simon asks, looking around at everything with wide eyes. 

Wille chuckles and wraps himself around Simon from behind. “We were a little distracted when we booked it, if I remember correctly.” 

Simon hums, “I suppose we were,” and tilts his head back to rest onto Wille’s shoulder, exposing his neck to the man and enjoying the warmth of his hands on Simon’s hips.

Wille takes the invitation in stride, attaching his lips to a spot of skin under Simon’s jaw, then nipping and sucking lightly.

“Do you think we should eat first,” A kiss to his jaw, fingerprints pressing into skin, “or take advantage of this private spot of beach first?” 

Hands roving now, Simon bites back the low sound crawling up his throat. He pretends to consider, but quickly loses his train of thought when a finger dips into the waistband of his pants. 

“We did the food tour thing already,” Simon breathes, and Wille’s giggle vibrates across his skin.

They nearly fall over into the sand as they stumble, laughing, unwilling to let go of each other, over to the makeshift beach bed and fall into the pillows together.

[in-death-we-fall]

Parallel Lives

Kerrang 923, September 28 2002

In Slipknot, Joey Jordison gets to rage. In the Murderdolls, he gets to rock. In both bands, he shits in public…

Words: Ian Winwood Photos: Roxy Erickson

Never let it be said that the Murderdolls lack the capacity to surprise. It’s Thursday night, the penultimate date of their sold-out tour of British clubs, and the band were due onstage 10 minutes ago. Getting a band like this to do anything on time is like turning an oil tanker around, so they’re running late. Which means that the 500 people packed inside Bristol’s Fleece club are just going to have to wait.

Joey Jordison, on the other hand, cannot wait. Opting to change from ugly-men-without-make-up to ugly-men-with-make-up not in the venue’s intimate and inaccessible dressing room, but in their tour bus, the Murderdolls have, for the past 45 minutes, been saying “Excuse me” and “Could you pass the hairspray/lipstick” and getting dressed into stage clothes that have seen less washing powder than the Turin Shroud. It’s like playing Twister with Max Factor.

And it could be worse. Joey Jordison – five feet not very many inches tall, even in ridiculous stage boots – needs to ‘go to the toilet’, and he needs to do this in the ‘I’d leave that for 10 minutes if I were you’ sense of the term. Which is unfortunate, considering that ‘No solids shall be deposited in the tour bus toilet’ is appropriately Rule Number Two in the rock ‘n’ roll code of the road, second only to ‘Do not blow the bus driver’s brains out with a .45 Magnum as he’s hurtling down the motorway at 120 miles per hour’. For Jordison, looking quietly concerned, this is a problem. Think, think, think: what to do?

Joey Jordison decides to resolve his predicament by performing a bowel movement on the pavement, in the street.

You did read that correctly.

“Man, I just took a shit in the street,” he says, almost skipping with joy and pride.

Perhaps to celebrate such a commendable achievement, one of the Murderdolls – and, let’s be honest, aside from Joey Jordison, they all look the same – decides to smash a pint glass. The jar arcs through the air, hitting the cobbled floor with a smash that is, strangely, as satisfying as it is entirely redundant. Then another glass takes flight. Then another, then another. There isn’t much whooping and there isn’t much hollering, but there is plenty of debris.

We’re standing outside a pub, next door to the Fleece. The landlady leans out of the doorway.

“Could you stop that please?” she asks.

“Go back inside lady,” says vocalist Wednesday 13, winner of this week’s stupid name competition. “Go back inside and no-one will get hurt.”

Five minutes ago Wednesday was giving serious consideration to urinating on a Puddle Of Mudd fly poster. He decided not to because the band, as people, are “cool”.

The Murderdolls are now walking toward the stage door.

“Hey, you know about American football right?” asks Eric Griffin, the bass player. Eric has missed a part of the tour after his father died, but now he’s back. “Well in American football this is called a drop-kick.”

Eric throws a pint glass from his hand and tries to kick it. The glass spins from his boot and smashes six inches away.

He adds: “Although it’s not a very good drop-kick.”

Inside the venue, the crowd have heard the intro tape and are starting to cheer. Outside, the band are going inside.

Please welcome, from the United States of Stupidity, The Murderdolls.

The Murderdolls have a song called ‘I Like (sic) To Say Fuck’, which is just as well, because they say fuck all the time; they also have a song called ‘Let’s Fuck’ which is not just as well, if you’re the one in line, because they’re all as ugly as fuck.

Onstage at the Fleece, the band say the word so many times that if they were to keep a swearbox they could, at the end of the tour, purchase a country. So it’s, “Here’s a fucking song for you, Bristol,” and “Are you tired of hearing all the fucking shit on the radio, Bristol?”.

In case, heaven forbid, you get bored of the word “fuck”, The Murderdolls do spice it up and throw it around with the odd “motherfucker” as well. They’re inventive like that.

They’re also, on a night like this, at the very core of their element. When the album, ‘Beyond The Valley Of The Murderdolls’, is boiled down and fried up in a hateful hall before 500 loving people, you’re seeing this band as they were intended to be seen. It’s here that you can view the parts of the Murderdolls that are A Good Thing, such as the schlock-punk shtick that recalls bands such as the Misfits and the Necros. This is also the place to see the parts of the Murderdolls that are A Bad Thing, such as them revisiting the era of hairspray and shiny guitars that epitomised the glam-metal years.

The Murderdolls will try to guess a woman’s cup size by feeling her breasts. It’s worth asking: what is the point of the Murderdolls?

“Just to have some fun,” says Joey Jordison. The guitarist – for this group at least – sits in the upstairs lounge of his band’s tour bus. Adjacent to him is Wednesday. Before the tape recorder is switched on, a request is made that the whole band are questioned, but Joey, quietly, won’t allow it. Make of this what you will.

“I get all my angry shit out with Slipknot, so this is something else that I can do. And I have fun doing it. We may not be the most serious band in the world, but that doesn’t really matter. That doesn’t mean that this can’t mean something to me just the same.”

For a band that aren’t serious, by the way, Joey Jordison chose to meet this question in serious tones, and with some immediacy – ready with an answer, almost leaping in with his response.

Would you like your audience to be serious about liking you?

“Yeah, I suppose I would.”

Joey Jordison didn’t actually make an appearance today until 8pm, fearing that he’d contracted a fever after standing in the cole – straight after his band’s set – in Manchester for three hours signing CDs and body parts for his fans. Later in Bristol it would seem that this is no more than a chill, but his earlier absence means that his bandmates have to endure the mind-shrivelling tedium that is the afternoon before a show without him.

Wednesday and guitarist Acey Slade are upstairs in the Fleece’s dressing room, talking small and killing time. Wednesday is attempting to fit brown plastic holsters to his trousers, in which he can hold the blue plastic pistols that will spurt water into the crowd later tonight. Slade – the funniest and most impressive member of the band – is looking through photographs taken in Germany. He says the word “cool” a lot. Wednesday has a bastardised image of Colonel Sanders on the back of his jacket. Kentucky Fried Chicken is his favourite food, he says, with the humorous delivery of a serious sentiment. Although if he lived in England he would open a chain of fast food franchises called Kentucky Fried Fish And Chips.

Wednesday is from Louisiana (sic). Acey is from Pennsylvania.

But you’re based in Los Angeles, right?

“Fuck no,” says Wednesday.

I thought that’s where you all lived.

“We don’t really have a base,” says Slade.

Is that because you’re not a proper band?

“Fuck you,” says Wednesday.

The Murderdolls take this well. The Murderdolls, fittingly, know how to smile.

This is Joey Jordison’s band. He laughs and jokes along throughout the evening – and his humour and tolerance of a piss-taking journalist is more impressive than many – but, in subtle moments, his demeanour betrays a seriousness and focus that is hardly disguised. He is acutely aware of how he wishes to be portrayed although, strangely, he appears more concerned with visuals than words. He applies his make-up on three separate occasions for the photographs that partner this piece. The last time he has to do this, at 1am, he doesn’t appear overly thrilled. He has a quiet word with Roxy Erickson about what she can and can’t shoot (admirably, she opts not to fall in with the conspiracy).

In conversation, conversely, Jordison is almost slanderously unguarded. He wants to make it clear than our own Josh Sindell, in his review of the Murderdolls’ set at the Whisky A Go-Go, was wrong to say that Kerry King left early out of disdain, but rather had to leave for LAX airport. Then he says that while the other eight members of Slipknot were furious with K! Dep Ed Jason Arnopp for the things he wrote in his Slipknot book, this was only because they knew that what he wrote was “true”. He’ll also tell you about how he fucked-up his voice by mixing two different batches of cocaine together earlier in the tour. And how, on the road with Slipknot in America, he walked in to the Clown’s dressing room and emptied his bowels right into the rubbish bin. Right there in the room.

Why on Earth did you do that?

“Because he was fucking with me.”

Is there tension in Slipknot?

“No.”

But then he’ll say this. And he’ll say it with some joy and no disguise.

“We had more people at our gig (in Los Angeles) than Stone Sour did.”

Yeah, but Stone Sour are selling more records in America than you are.

Joey Jordison nods his head and curls his mouth into the thinnest, and cruellest, of smiles. Quietly he says, “At the moment”.

Are you sure there’s no tension in Slipknot?

“Yes.”

In the pub next door to the Fleece, there is something approaching mutiny. It’s 11:50pm, and the Murderdolls left the stage a quarter of an hour ago. Four men in their 40s are arguing about the merits – or otherwise – of the band. They all went to the show, but only half of them enjoyed it. You’ve got to move with the times, say the defenders. They weren’t even playing their instruments, say the detractors.

Listening to this is the landlord. He manages to be friendly despite glowing incandescent with fury. It was his glasses that were smashed by the band, and it was his wife who Wednesday instructed to go back inside so that “nobody would get hurt”.

The landlord also thinks the Murderdolls are the worst band ever to have performed next door. So furious he was with the incident, he confronted the Murderdolls’ tour manager and, threatening to summon the law, elicited an apology and £50 in compensation without hesitation or complaint.

Rock ‘n’ roll.

Just round the corner, the Murderdolls are milling in the street, signing autographs for the 200 people who have braved the chill and missed the last bus to talk to them. They will stay there for two hours. Then they will board the bus and, knowing nothing of the furore left behind them, sleep in their bunks and wake in another town. And there the Murderdolls will emerge to laugh and bullshit their way through another day.

[mikeysbride]

AJR Fever

I honestly don’t know where to begin. There’s so much to say. As I type this, I’m on a quick trip to Nashville. For perspective, Nashville is my hometown; it’s not strange to think I’d be here, except I was just here 4 months ago and don’t ever come back this soon and definitely not for just a couple of days. It’s a 10-hour drive to get here from Florida.

So, what brought me back so soon this time? In a (band) name, AJR. We saw them in Orlando in May after surprising my 16yo with tickets for her birthday in January, and my mind was completely blown - so much so that when the opportunity to see them again in Nashville presented itself these 4 months later, there was no way we weren’t taking advantage of it.

It’s probably been a couple of years since my kids first played me a couple of AJR songs in my car, and I didn’t think much about it. I figured they were just some new band I’d never hear from again. But the more I listened to them, the more I liked them, and they became a regular part of my car playlists. I have since become a huge fan of theirs, and I can’t seem to get enough of them, especially after seeing them in person twice this year. I am actually kind of bummed that I will likely have to wait until the next tour to see them again. Honestly, I have no idea how they can possibly top this tour (the stage production for The Maybe Man Tour is NEXT LEVEL), but I can’t wait to see what comes next from them.

As someone who is almost 50 years old and has seen more concerts than she can remember, I have to say AJR’s show is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. After seeing them the first time, I was actually quite speechless. After you’ve seen as many shows as I have, it’s easy to get to a point where you start to feel like maybe you’ve seen all there is to see and heard all there is to hear. Then one day your teenagers introduce you to AJR, and a few months later, you find yourself taking them to a concert that blows you away as much as it does the kids.

It’s hard to adequately put this into words because unless you’ve seen this tour, there’s really no way I can fully describe what we experienced in a way that you will completely comprehend. It is a full-on stage production visually and sonically from start to finish. From larger than life video screens to lasers, special effects, and live horns, there is never a dull moment…not to mention the brothers’ (Adam, Jack, and Ryan) humor and interactions with each other and the audience.

At one point, they even popped up in the upper level and sang a few songs while seated with the fans, and all I could think about was how fantastic it would be to be one of those fans at that moment. There was so much going on the entire show, and of course, they sounded fantastic. It’s clear that tons of strategic planning went into pulling off a show like that, and it absolutely paid off. Congratulations to the band and their crew for a job well done.

I have to give credit to my daughters for the monster AJR fan I’ve turned into because this band would not be on my radar at all if it weren’t for them. Kudos to my kids for having great taste in music. I feel like they got that naturally since their parents AND grandparents are all huge music fans, singers, and musicians. They have also turned us on to twenty one pilots and Alec Benjamin, who we will also be seeing soon, in the fall. I have no doubt I’ll have stars in my eyes after those as well, but man, what an act they have to follow now that I’ve seen AJR twice in 4 months. I have a feeling they’re up to the challenge. I guess we will soon find out!

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

‘til the sun burns out - part 3

part of the nothing else matters universe

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Read it on AO3

Summary:

Your wedding night to Eddie Munson.

Additional tags: explicit sexual content, p in v, cunnilingus, dirty talk, degradation, fluff and smut, no angst, established relationship

“Edward James Munson, if you are late to our wedding I will personally send you to hell myself,” you hiss into the receiver, leaving your fifth and increasingly threatening voice message to the phone the guys share while they’re on the road.

Your best friend Claire looks at you expectantly as you walk back into your bedroom. She flinches at your murderous expression but cheerily says, “Don’t worry, sugar, I’m sure they’re just…on the road. Speeding down here to make all your dreams come true.”

Rather than respond, you pour yourself another shot of vodka and toss it back. Then, you start pacing again, wringing your hands together to avoid grabbing the phone and leaving your sixth message.

It’s 1991 and a seasonably warm June day in Hawkins. You’ve been engaged to the man of your dreams for over a year, and the wedding planning was what kept you busy and your mind occupied during the months he was away for his latest tour and recording sessions.

Your wedding is scheduled to begin at 2 p.m. at Hawkins Church. You had kicked and screamed your way to this decision, but ultimately your dad telling you it would make your late mama proud tugged hard enough at your heartstrings to make you relent. Eddie had been a pretty quick sell on the idea.

“You mean get married by the very man who called me a radical satanist? It might give him a heart attack. Let’s do it,” he’d said when you called him to tell him your dad’s guilt trips had finally won.

It was now noon, and Eddie was supposed to be home from the tour at 10 a.m., but you haven’t heard from him or any of the other guys. “Claire, I’m going to kill him.”

“So you’ve said. To anyone within a five foot radius.” She sets her wine down and stands, grasping you by your upper arms. “You need to relax. He’ll be here. When has Eddie ever let you down?”

“September 1986 when he admitted that he’s never actually liked Red Vines and only eats them because I like them.”

“That’s not letting you down, that’s having taste. Now ease up on the vodka, I don’t want to have to hold your hair back in church.”

There’s a knock at your bedroom door and a familiar head of luscious hair pokes his head in.

“Harrington!”

“What’s this about vodka?” He asks as he enters the room, giving you a quick hug. “Where’s Munson?”

Claire makes a striking motion across her throat, but it’s too late. “He’s not here. Our wedding is in two hours and he’s not here! ” You shout.

Steve’s eyes go wide as he watches you start your pacing over. He looks at Claire. “She been like this all day?”

“This is…arguably the most calm she’s been.”

“I’m sure he’s got a good reason for running late,” Steve says diplomatically. “And if he doesn’t, then I’m glad I’m not him.”

You glare at Steve. “Thanks, Harrington. You really know how to make a girl feel better.”

“Anytime. I just wanted to stop by and say hi, let you know Nancy and Robin just got back in town. El and Max are at the church decorating. Dustin is…somewhere, being Dustin.” He pauses. “Pastor Mitchell has only been praying for the absolution of your sins for the past hour or so.”

“Huh, that’s not so bad,” Claire murmurs.

“I know, right?” Steve rubs a hand over his chin as he thinks of anything else to tell you. “Oh, Mrs. Wheeler brought the cake over to the bar. Chad put it in the fridge.”

“At this rate, the only thing I’m looking forward to is Mrs. Wheeler’s German chocolate cake,” you grumble. “Thanks, Steve. If you hear anything from Eddie could you let me know?”

He gives a little two finger salute before slipping out the door and disappearing. Claire regards you with concerned eyes. “Come on, honey. Let’s get you dressed.”

—-

It’s 1:45 p.m. and your dad is going to be walking you down the aisle any minute. You’ve had Claire checking whether Eddie’s arrived every five minutes for the past hour, and still no sign of him. The only thing keeping you from crying is the fact that your eyelashes are coated in a layer of mascara so thick that if you cried, you’re almost certain you’d go blind.

Your gown is an off the shoulder white dress that hits you leg at the knee, simple in style but stunning in figure. Your hair is teased and sprayed within an inch of its life. You’ve got a handful of sunflowers mixed with baby’s breath as a bouquet. You’re ready to get married.

The only thing you apparently don’t have is a fucking groom.

Your dad knocks on the door to the room you’re waiting in just off the lobby of the church. He’s dressed in a white button down tucked into black slacks, the same thing he wears to church the three times a year he goes.

“You look beautiful, sweet pea. I only wish your mama could have seen you,” he says, eyes glassy. All the anger leaves you in a rush as he envelopes you in a hug. “Now, come on. Let’s go get you hitched.”

You slide your arm into the crook of his elbow. The wedding march filters through the old wood doors of the nave as your dad stands with you, waiting for the doors to open. It’s Steve who pulls the door open, his face giving away nothing as your dad guides you inside.

The small gathering of people are all standing in the pews, facing you, with huge smiles on their faces but your eyes immediately find a familiar pair of brown ones at the end of the aisle.

Eddie stands next to a surly Pastor Mitchell, lips spread wide in a huge grin. To your surprise, he’s wearing a suit - black on black shirt, vest, and haphazardly done tie topped with his leather jacket instead of the suit jacket. The rest of the guys from the band stand beside him in similar suits, while on your side Claire stands in her baby blue gown, holding a bouquet similar to yours.

Your dad kisses you on the cheek before placing your hand in Eddie’s. Those familiar calloused fingers wrap around your own and just like that, all of the stress of the morning fades away.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers as you stand beside him and Pastor Mitchell begins his wedding sermon.

“You’re late,” you whisper back, though the words are full of far less heat than they would have been a few hours ago.

“Ran into a bit of trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“Would you believe me if I said we stopped a robbery?”

You turn your head to him as you hiss out, “What?!”

Pastor Mitchell clears his throat, the annoyance clear on his face.

“Sorry,” you murmur, turning back to him. Eddie’s shoulders shake in silent laughter.

“The couple has chosen to say their own vow,” Pastor Mitchell says. “Edward?”

“Hey, baby,” Eddie starts, “Remember that time we drove out to watch the meteor shower? And how you watched the stars, but I could only watch you? You’re my favorite star in any galaxy. And I’ll love you until the sun burns out.”

Pastor Mitchell turns to you, and gestures for you to speak. “Eddie, you’re the wordsmith here, not me. But just know, you’re the sun in my galaxy. My best days begin and end with you, my love. I can’t wait for a lifetime of the best days.”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride,” Pastor Mitchell says, closing his sermon book. Eddie reaches out to curl a hand behind your neck, hauling you towards him in a kiss impeded by your bright smile.

“I’m glad you changed your mind,” he murmurs.

“Me, too, Munson. Me, too.”

Hand in hand, you run laughing down the aisle of the church to the cheers of your friends and family.

And the silent prayers of Pastor Mitchell.

___

That night, The Hideout hosts its first ever wedding reception.

Mrs. Wheeler volunteered to take charge of managing the potluck style dinner and the cake. Your bartenders happily volunteered to serve drinks through the night. And the boys of Corroded Coffin provided the entertainment.

You haven’t stopped smiling, and every time your eyes meet Eddie’s, your heart flutters wildly in your chest.

Eddie Munson. Your husband.

Man, what a world.

The man in question slides an arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss your neck. “Dance with me?”

“Eddie Munson, since when do you dance?”

“Since I got the prettiest girl in the room to give me a chance,” he says. He drags you in front of the stage, and the boys start in on a song you haven’t heard before.

It’s slow, the guitar drawn out and the deep bass more pronounced. You slip your arms around Eddie’s neck and sway with him, your bodies pressed tightly together. Gareth is on vocals while Eddie enjoys your first dance.

“It’s called Nothing Else Matters. Metallica’s new song,” Eddie tells you, turning you in a circle. “Thought it fit us pretty well.”

Never cared for what they say

Never cared for games they play

Never cared for what they do

Never cared for what they know

And I know, yeah, yeah

So close, no matter how far

Couldn't be much more from the heart

Forever trusting who we are

No, nothing else matters

“It’s perfect, Eds,” you whisper.

———

Later, after the party has wound down and your friends shoo you and Eddie out of the bar and into the car decorated with a “Just Married” banner, Eddie pulls up to your shared home and rushes around the hood to pull your door open.

You barely get your seatbelt undone before he’s lifting you from the car, making you giggle. When he reaches the door, he sets you down for a brief second to tug his keys out and open the door before scooping you up into his arms again.

“When we cross this threshold, we’ll officially be husband and wife. You ready?” He asks.

“According to the state of Indiana, we’ve been husband and wife for the last twelve hours,” you reply.

Eddie steps into the dark house, kicking the door shut behind him. He makes a beeline for your bedroom, tossing you on the bed and immediately crawling up over your body.

“Have I told you yet how stunning you are?” He asks. “This dress looks amazing on you, but I bet it would look better on the floor,” he says with a wink.

“Oh yeah?” You ask, tone gone sultry. You wrap your fist in the black tie around his neck, pulling him closer to you. “I can think of some places where this tie would look better, too.”

“Later. First, I’m gonna eat my wife’s pretty pussy,” he says, sliding down until he’s situated on his stomach between your spread legs. His rough hands shove your dress up over your hips, exposing the black lace panties and matching garter holding up your stockings. Eddie looks like a kid on Christmas. “Jesus Christ, this is all for me?”

“‘Til the sun burns out, baby,” you tell him. He grins at you, palms sliding up the backs of your thighs as he presses your legs up, exposing more of you to his hungry gaze.

He plants light kisses up the inside of both thighs before his lips gently trace your folds through the silk and lace. The dulled sensation of his mouth on you is maddening, not nearly enough for how tightly wound your body and soul are for this man.

“Eddie, please,” you beg, voice breathy.

“Oh, is my little slut already desperate?” He taunts. His thumb rubs circles over your sensitive clit, still keeping your lingerie as a barrier. “These cute little panties are already soaked, huh?”

You nod, arching your back and trying to shift your hips to chase the friction. He pulls back, making you groan in disappointment.

Eddie’s fingers trace the edges of the lace before finally pulling them aside. He uses his opposite hand to trace a single finger through your wetness before he draws back, landing a light smack to your center that has you fighting against his hold.

“Hold still, or I’m going to make this take way longer than either of us wants,” he warns before his tongue is on your, licking you from your dripping hole to your needy clit.

You cry out in relief, blabbering a litany of thank you and oh my god and please as he tortures you in the best way possible. You do your best to follow his instruction to stay still, but on a hard suck to your sensitive nub your hips chase his mouth and your fingers bury themselves into his curly hair.

He must be in a forgiving mood, because he simply groans against you and increases his pace, winding you tighter and tighter until you come against his lips with a shout of his name like a prayer.

Eddie works you down from your high, until your legs are deadweight over his shoulders. He sits up, grabbing your waist and flipping you to your belly. His fingers find the zipper of your dress and pull it down, shimmying the fabric off your body, and the only help you’re able to provide is in the form of lifting your hips so he can pull it fully off and toss it to the ground.

“Huh, I was right. It does look better on my floor,” he jokes before grabbing a handful of your ass in a rough grip. He smacks one cheek, then the other, making you cry out and rub yourself against the sheets, even as sensitive as you are.

The warmth of his body leaves yours as he stands, and you turn your head to watch him undress. Your mouth goes dry watching him unbutton his shirt, the tattoos you love to trace with your tongue coming into view. You follow the trail of hair beneath his belly button to the bulge in his slacks, watching as his deft fingers undo the fly and shove all the offending fabric out of the way of your appreciative gaze.

He holds the tie in his hand, a familiar mischievous twinkle in his eye as he gets back on the bed. “What do we think we should use this for? A gag? No, I wanna hear all those pretty sounds you make for me. I think maybe we should tie you up, huh?”

You let out a pitiful whine, but nod your consent. Eddie helps you lift your arms above your head, your body now laying in one long line as he winds the silk around your wrists. He gives the bind an experimental tug, seeming pleased with his work.

“Lift those hips, princess. On your knees,” he says. You work your knees beneath you, raising your hips with a deep arch of your back, your chest pressed to the bed.

He runs a hand from your neck to the base of your spine, toying with the band of your underwear. “I think I’ll leave these on,” he tells you, before once again shifting the fabric to the side.

Your breath catches when you feel the blunt head of his cock at your dripping hole. He presses forward slowly, agonizingly, stretching deliciously until his hips sit flush to yours. He groans, hands trailing over all the skin he can reach as he lets you adjust until you give him that tell-tale shift of your hips, asking for more.

And more does he give.

He pulls out until you’re nearly empty before driving back inside, a harsh slap of his hips against yours. The angle brushes the head of him against that maddening spot inside of you, making you cry out and moan with each drag of his cock in and out of your heat.

Eddie winds a hand through your hair, using it along with a hand around your throat to bow your body off the bed, back arched against him as he pounds into you.

“My perfect little wife. So fucking gorgeous for me on her knees, crying out my name,” he growls into your ear. “Want you to come on my cock, sweetheart, want you dripping down my thighs as I fill you up.”

You nod against his hold, your hips moving frantically in time with his thrusts as you chase the second wave of relief he’s gifting you.

It shatters across your nerves a moment later, and Eddie groans, a flood of colorful curses leaving his lips as he chases his own release. He stills, and you moan at the feeling of him pulsing against your walls as he cums.

He gently guided the upper half of your body back to the bed before slipping out of you. He spreads you open with a hand on each cheek, watching with possessive attention as his cum leaks out of you.

Satisfied that you’re well fucked and marked up as his, he flops on the bed beside you, lust drunk hands struggling to undo the bind on your wrists. When you’re finally free, he hauls your body against his, the sweat cooling on your skin as he holds you.

“So, you ever gonna tell me why you were late?” You ask after a moment of catching your breath.

“I wasn’t joking about the robbery. We were pulling forward through a stop sign when some guy that stole a woman’s purse literally smashed into the van. On foot. Knocked him out cold. We had to wait for the police to take their report before we could keep driving.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know. Drove like a bat out of hell the rest of the way to make it on time.” His fingers trail along your arm. “Wouldn’t have missed this for anything.”

“I guess I can forgive you, then,” you tease.

He grins at you, looking just like the teenage boy you’d fallen for all those years ago, and for all the stress this morning caused you, you know you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world.

[bddypsn]

LOST BOY — Chapter 9

Brad: ---Sorry for calling you so suddenly, Jay, Asch.

I intended to call you at a more reasonable hour, but unexpected meetings caused delays.

Jay: No, that’s not a problem at all... What’s going on?

Brad: First, let me commend you for successfully completing the first day of the tour.

Jay: Thanks. It’s only just begun, so we can’t let our guard down. But the event itself is going smoothly, and we’re enjoying it.

Brad: I see. That’s good to hear.

Asch: Hey, get to the point already.

Jay: Asch...

Sorry, Brad. Asch is just impatient because he wants to take a shower. Please let it slide for my sake.

Asch: That’s not it!

Brad: My bad. You must be exhausted as it is. I’ll keep this brief.

It’s about Oscar.

Asch: …………

Brad: You’ve heard that a few members of the Anti-Eclipse unit have infiltrated Lost Garden, right?

Officially, their mission is to search for missing military personnel. But in reality, they’re also searching for Oscar.

Asch: …Well, I figured as much.

Jay: I don’t know about anyone else, but within the 13th Unit, it’s basically an unspoken understanding.

Asch: Hey, don’t tell me you called us just to say that. If that’s the case, you’re not getting away with it------

Brad: That’s not it.

What I’m about to tell you is something only a handful of people, myself included, know... Not even the team members have been informed yet.

Asch & Jay: …………

Brad: Oscar is actually on a mission, infiltrating Eclipse.

Asch: What…?

Jay: W-Wait, what do you mean? Are you saying… he’s a spy?

Brad: That would be correct.

Perhaps I should have told you earlier, but... the circumstances surrounding this are rather complicated.

Asch & Jay: ……?

**********************

Jay: I see… So, Oscar had his reasons.

Brad: I’ve only given you a summary. Once the Anti-Eclipse unit returns, the 13th Unit members will be officially informed.

Jay: Is that so?

Brad: Yes. Because we’ve obtained the most crucial information—the truth about Sirius’s fate.

Jay: ......!

Brad: I’ll be telling you both something similar, but…

Asch: Why bring this up now?

Couldn’t you have just told us along with the others?

Brad: I thought it would be better to ease your worries so you could focus on the tour.

I understand that you might feel this isn’t the time for such things, but…

Asch: Tch, mind your own business!

Jay: Sorry, Asch. I was the one who consulted Brad about this.

Asch: Yeah, I figured… That’s the only thing that makes sense.

Ah—Damn it! What is this, some kind of lame comedy routine!?

So that means when he boarded LOM, he was still fully aware of himself, right?

Brad: That’s correct.

Asch: Damn it!!! That bastard… Even if it was an act, the fact remains that he trashed LOM.

And because of that, that damn brother of mine came up with some ridiculous idea, and now we’re stuck doing this shitty tour…

Unforgivable… When he gets back, I’m tying him to a punching bag and beating him senseless until his teeth chatter!

Jay: H-Hey… Oscar put his life on the line for HELIOS, you know? Show some appreciation.

Asch: Shut up!!

Are we done here, Brad?

Brad: Yeah…

Asch: Thanks to you, my already exhausted brain is even more drained. You’re gonna pay for this.

Jay: Hey, Asch…!

Brad: …He hasn’t changed a bit.

Jay: Haha… I wonder how many times he said “damn” just now.

But maybe that’s just how he is—he’s more himself when he’s pissed off at something. He looks way more alive like this than when he’s just silently brooding and wearing himself out.

Honestly, though, I think he feels relieved now that he knows the truth. Thanks for telling us, Brad.

Brad: The tour must be pretty exhausting. Sorry for leaving it all to you.

Jay: No… Even though Oscar is a spy, the fact that one of our own is behind enemy lines is nerve-wracking. Make sure you rest when you can.

Brad: Yeah. Thanks for the concern.

Jay: When Oscar gets back, we’ll make sure to give him the warmest welcome possible.

Brad: Yeah, we will.

Chapter 8 ⬌ Chapter 10

[raindropmaster]

1.

There’s pain and longing in things that has passed. Now I’m realizing how heavy it is to look back on missed moments and unrealized opportunities.

2.

Have you heard of the superstition where you ask the cat something/someone missing? One of the stray cats we feed gave birth in our garage 2 weeks ago. She put it inside our house. She went missing. I use the syringe and cat milk to force feed the kittens. 24-hours missing I talked to every single one of the stray cats if they’ve seen the mama cat, the one with a limp. I told them it’s unusual for a mama cat to leave their kittens not unless they are sick.

She returned a day after that. She smelled of death and sickness. I let her in and showed her the kittens. She avoided them, I think she doesn’t want to risk it. She stayed for a while and looked at the house. She asked to be petted and laid down in her usual spot where she sleeps. I played video games the whole day, looking at her look at me and the house.

At midnight, I turned the tv and console off. I sat and the floor and touched her a bit. I thanked her for going home. I told her I’ll try my best to feed the kittens if they will accept, but made no promise. The kittens are too young, and I’m afraid nature will run its course. I told her it’s okay to sleep now, and that it was great she trusted us to feed her for a while. I told her we may not meet again when I sleep now, because I’m not sure if she’ll stick around- but that I understand. I said thank you for making an effort to say goodbye.

I woke up the next day without her in the house. Her kittens are crying, asking to be nursed. I know she’s gone, truly gone this time. I wonder if she felt love in her last hours.

3.

Most of my days these past two months are mostly at home. I had three of my wisdom teeth removed and didn’t expect the long recover time per operation. It forced me to stay home and do some light cleaning. I sorted some things and continued packing clothes and books I intend to donate.

I have donated more than 10 paper bags of old clothes now. Most of them bought 2014-2018. I didn’t have a growth sprout so I kept them. They’re the clothes I bought with my first salary, my first time alone abroad, my first Christmas splurge, my first out of the country shopping.

For some reasons, I thought they were meant ti stay. I thought those days of vanished youth can be revisited if I just store them, or that I don’t need to go shopping again. But nothing really lasts. Most of these items aren’t even reflective of who I am today. Seeing them go felt like saying goodbye to a younger version of me. I’m happy knowing he was happy.

4.

Skype is closing down. I spent 4 years working for Microsoft. We knew end days are coming for the app since the introduction of Microsoft Teams. I used to handle Skype in the Classroom programs and have visited local museums to invite them to join giving virtual tours (before pandemic). Seeing it go had some finality. Seeing it go felt like I said goodbye to the mama cat and my old clothes. I cheered myself up knowing we have connected 40k Filipino students a year to promote culture and identity. Those were few of my career highlight.

5.

So there’s really pain and longing in things that has passed. In a few weeks I felt like I said goodbye in multitudes and was forced to confront how things are changing again. I’m starting to give away some of my books. I felt like there’s no point keeping too much when things, people and circumstances change too often.

It’s only the first quarter of the year, but it felt like a year-long reflection was due, from forced self-isolation and sad chain of events.

P.S.

Someone I used to love went back home. We didn’t meet, even as friends. It felt like a satisfying and sad goodbye to moments shared. I hope I’m as happy.

[always-rolling-my-eyes]

I don’t know if someone’s already replied because I just saw it now but this is why people are attacking Joe:

Joe and Sophie got together in 2016, when she was 20 and he was 27. After a year of dating, they got engaged. Then, in 2019 Sophie had a big year because both the last season of Game Of Thrones and Dark Phoenix were coming out. That also came with a lot of hate, because both of those were bad but also because Daenerys stans decided to hate on Sophie because they disliked Sansa. They also created fake drama between Emília and Sophie, so she got a lot of hate. Sophie also got a lot of hate from Priyanka stans who kept comparing them.

Through all of this, Sophie mentioned having mental health issues and deleted her twitter account. She also mentioned deleting the Instagram app from her phone.

In 2019, they got married and in early 2020 there were rumors of her being pregnant. The pandemic happened and they had a child. In 2021, she did The Staircase, and then she took another break to have baby number 2. She’s now back to work on a TV show called Joan.

If I remember correctly Joe has been working and touring through a lot of this. So it seems like she had a hard time with her new found fame (she had been famous for years but she became a lot more well known in 2019) and decided to take a step back and start a family with him.

I think it’s worth mentioning that she has said that her family and friends are all in the UK and she was trying to convince Joe to move back there. This year she has been spending a lot of time in the UK, even before she started filming, so I think it’s possible she really wants to move back there.

It all seems a bit tragic to me. She has struggled with depression and an ED throughout her whole life because of GOT, and she’s spent all her 20s dating a man almost 10 years older than her, taking a step back to have his children while he kept working, living far away from her family and friends, etc. and now, when she goes back to the UK and gets back to work, his team (it had to come from there) acts like she abandoned her children and like Joe deserves a gold medal for being a father.

I’m not saying their relationship was toxic, but I do think it maybe wasn’t the healthiest for her. She’s also talked about Joe helping her with her mental health struggles, but maybe that led to some dependency that wasn’t great. Specially since he apparently broke up with her right before they got married because of her mental health. I had misunderstood that interview and I thought she was saying they had broken up for 24 hours right at the beginning of their relationship, but apparently it was right before the wedding in Las Vegas.

All in all, I think Joe shouldn’t have gotten with someone as young as her. I usually don’t mind age differences when both people are in their 20s, but I do think she was probably too young. I think he tried to help with her mental health but I don’t think it was the healthiest. I think she has given up more for him than he has for her. It’s sad that they tried to make her look bad with the divorce news.

I also fully believe the news, but I also believe they could work it out and then fans will pretend it was all fake. But I do believe they’re on the brink of divorce but still willing to work it out if possible. That’s why neither were wearing their rings but now Joe is wearing it again. I think they’re still trying to make it work but they’re also speaking to lawyers.

If they do get a divorce custody will probably get messy, since she’ll probably want to take the kids to the UK and he won’t

Sorry for all of that! I don’t know if it makes any sense!

Wow, I had no idea all of that went on between them and I actually also had no idea of their age difference, that’s a little 😬 especially when combined with her mental health issues. Definitely seems like there was an imbalance of power there (if true, just my opinion)

But it looks like Joe just filed for divorce and I agree with you, I think custody will get messy because every article / report / detail we have seen so far about this break up seems to be coming from his camp and trying to make him look good (agree with you on that completely, as if watching your own kids makes you father of the year 🙄) so he is already on the offense. I just hope their kids don’t suffer as a result of all this but unfortunately, we see how this stuff goes

Thanks for all the info, anon 💗

[anachrosims]

I had VIP tickets to a live podcast show last night, merch package, meet and greet with the cast, been looking forward to it for months--

1. Lyft was going to take close to an hour to GET to me because traffic in my city is fucking bullshit

2. The place is only 20 minutes away so I’m like, well, I can just drive there

3. Car didn’t start so I asked my dad if I could borrow one of his

4. By the time I got hold of a car, I probably could’ve made it, but my phone didn’t charge (I hadn’t realized the cable had come loose)

5. No directions, had to stop at a pharmacy to grab a car charger 

6. Only one cashier was there and she took her sweet ass time with THREE PEOPLE ahead of me, even though there were other staffers just, yanno, literally standing around

7. I get on the interstate and make a wrong turn because by this time I’m getting flustered

8. ETA to the theater is now 15 mins after the start of the show and the venue has a strict “ur late, get fucked” policy

9. I am crying at this point, because I spent $150 months ago on something I’d looked forward to so, so much, especially as a ‘last hurrah’ event before I move out of my hometown in October, it was really a special thing for a lot of reasons

10. I miss more turns on my way home and get LOST to the point that I end up NORTH instead of south, it’s dark, I’m visually impaired, no fucking clue where I am because I just, never go north of the city

11. There’s NO place to pull over safely for AGES and finally I manage to find somewhere to do so, get Siri to point the way home

12. I head home.

I already secured today off thinking I would’ve been out last night. Now I’m just sat here miserable because I can’t afford to go do something nice for myself and there’s no one to spend time with and holy fuck, yanno, I was really needing something to go right for once and I guess that just wasn’t in the fucking cards.

I’m so miserable right now and I know, I know, #firstworldproblems. To be honest I can’t wait to get out of this stupid fucking city and start over. Either the curse is on me or it’s on me living in this place.

Someone suggested I reach out to the creators to see if they’d be willing to send the merch to me but it’s not fair to ask that of them while they’re still on tour. And it’s not their fault I am literally jinxed. Might be a good idea for me to find a reputable practitioner in witchcraft because apparently the universe says I’m just not allowed to have nice things.