#but he's like a crazed bear so it's kinda hard

[omgahgase]

i'm writing my second installment of my first tlou fic of ellie and joel living in jackson, this one a bit more miller family oriented than the last and with a personal headcanon that means so much to me (joel teaching ellie spanish). i'm really excited for the first chapter so here's a short snippet of some newly added stuff that i keep giggling over

Joel flexes his hands, unclenching his fingers that have dug into his palms so hard there’s crescent moon-shaped indents in his skin. He takes a labored breath like it physically pains him to bring his insanity levels back to ground zero then fixes Ellie with a look that doesn’t have as much heat as it did before. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re fucking not. You almost killed our couch,” Ellie reminds him, tone scolding and firm, like when Joel catches her sneaking snacks back into her room at ass o’clock in the morning. It feels strange, to be on the other side of a verbal asswhooping, but Joel deserves it, goddamn it. “You probably scared the whole town with how you blew up out there. Then you come home like Bitch Lizard—”

“‘Bitch Lizard’?” Joel quotes, head cocked to the side, similar to a confused as all fuck puppy if that puppy had rabies and a partially confused, partially crazed look in its too fucking big, too fucking brown eyes.

“Irrelevant, don’t interrupt me,” Ellie says. A second warning. “I saw the whole thing. I don’t know what beef has you and Tommy screaming at each other like fucking lunatics, but you’re sure as hell not bringing your old man bullshit in here. I lost my fucking sandwich because of you. I’m mad, Joel. I’m so fucking upset.”

“Should’ve ate it all,” Joel retorts, then, with narrowed eyes, “Were you spyin’ on us?”

“Irrelevant,” Ellie repeats, uncaring of how she just ratted herself out like a dumb fuck. “Shut the fuck up and cool down."

[msgexymunson]

One Slow Blink Part 1

Description: As a nurse, you want to help people, as many as you can. But, with the insane things that have been going on in Hawkins, and the crazed look in Dustin's eyes when he stumbles into the ER covered in blood with an impossible tale to tell, it makes you wonder; how much are you prepared to give? 

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, *Here there be monsters! Honestly, there's straight up monster fucking in this so if you're not into that do not read*, AFAB sub nurse reader x dom monster Eddie, kinda Alpha/Omega without them knowing it, injury descriptions, S4 does happen and Eddie lives but he be a monster, hand job, fem oral receiving, male oral receiving, consensual predator/prey dynamic, fingering, very rough sex, biting/marking, unprotected p in v, knotting.

A/N: Part 1 of 2, only due to Tumblr restrictions. Adding the second part in a minute. This has come from yet another deranged dream of mine. I imagine Eddie looking kinda like a mix between the Beast from the original Beauty and the Beast, and the dog/kangaroo guys from Tank Girl, but with a longer snout. If you don't know, that's a dirty mix between a lion, a bear, a wolf and maybe a little of Venom's tongue (because I am a whore.)

22k words in total for both parts, I know, mental, but it's worth it ;)

Masterlist Part 2

Tires screech off of the road and onto a dirt path as Nancy turns erratically in her station wagon, the whole car shuddering in protest. Her hands are shaking on the wheel; so much so that you place a placating hand on her knee to try to calm her down. 

You didn't know Nancy, not really. Hell, you only knew Dustin because he came into the hospital for a nasty cut on his leg when he fell off his bike three months ago. Then all of a sudden he shows up in the emergency room covered in blood, grime matted into his curly locks and tear streaks cutting through the dirt on his face. 

He swore until he was blue in the face that it wasn't his, that he needed a doctor, anyone that could help. You tried and failed to convince him to call an ambulance but he insisted that no one else in the hospital would understand. 

There was something about the desperate look in his eyes. It was frightening; those innocent eyes were hard, harder than they had any right to be. Dustin had seen something no child should have had to witness. With Max being admitted blind and unconscious with both arms and legs broken, and all the talk about strange occurrences around town, not to mention the freak earthquakes, it wasn't difficult to believe. But there was something he was not telling you, you were sure of it. Who comes to the ER without a patient and begs a nurse to come with them?

A feeling had settled in the pit of your stomach. The same thing had happened when the mall caught on fire. A feeling that things weren't what they at first glance appeared. Something strange and unnatural was going in, you were sure of it.

Maybe that's why you stole a trauma kit out of an ambulance. Maybe that's why you got in the car, pushed into the front seat by Dustin and Nancy. Maybe that's why you're being bundled out of said car and running through the woods, bracken cutting your ankles through your scrubs and leaves whipping at your face. 

A light in the distance cuts through the dark, glowing and growing as you quickly approach. A small cabin, you see, ramshackle and falling apart. Stepping towards it, you're about to go in when a bellowing roar echoes throughout the woods and into your chest, vibrating your very lungs and stealing your breath away. The kind of roar that makes your survival instincts run wild, telling you to flee. You would listen to it, if your gut wasn't telling you that you were right where you were supposed to be. 

A minute later, Steve is slamming the front door open, looking dishevelled. There's crimson smeared on his cheek; two long cuts run from temple to jaw dripping blood. 

“Is he why-” 

“Henderson, what the hell dude! You can't just bring anyone here!” 

“I know Steve! She can help, she's a doctor-” 

“Nurse, actually,” you interrupt rather sheepishly. 

Steve rubs his hand through his mussed up hair and takes a pace backwards.

“Great, that's just great. When I told you to get someone-” 

Dustin's response is high pitched and hard, tuning through the clearing. 

“I did. I got someone! It's not like I could freaking advertise!” 

“Look, you said you need help. What can I do?” 

Steve and Dustin exchange dark glances. 

“Alright, you better come with me.”

He heads back inside and you follow quietly wondering what the hell you've gotten yourself into. 

The cabin is quaint, and clearly used to be a well loved home a while ago. Now however, there's a gaping hole in the ceiling and dust trailed across the living area. Robin is sitting on an old sofa, you remember her being in band at school. She looks terrible, cracking her knuckles and mumbling to herself incoherently. 

“He's through here.” 

You trail Steve as he leads to a door that's slightly ajar. Pushing it open with one finger he leans on the doorframe and gestures with the other hand at the most impossible thing you've ever seen in your life. 

“What… is that?” 

“That is Eddie.” 

There's a figure strapped to a double bed with strips of fabric bound to its wrists and ankles. Torn clothing is clinging to parts of it, and what skin you can see is a mass of blood and hair. No, not hair. Fur. Its spine seems wrong, curving more than a humans, and its fingers are thick and adorned with semicircular black claws. The face is not recognizable anymore. You see a huge maw, lips curled in anger with razor sharp teeth on display and spit gathering down its matted chin. That's been bound too; a leather belt wrapped tight around it, you assume to stop it biting. It writhes around on the bed, snarling and growling deep in its throat as various wounds bleed out in front of you. One of its arms, if you could call it that, is bent at an odd angle and seems to be limp compared to the rest of it. 

Standing there open-mouthed, you gawp at the thing.

“You said this is- this is Eddie??” 

“Listen, I know it's insane-” 

You step into the room, pulled by an invisible thread. It turns its head and looks straight into your eyes. Wide, warm eyes, full of pain, pleading with you. They're a soft brown, burnt umber, with a whisper of honey and summer days. Familiar eyes. Human eyes. 

“Its- his arm is broken I think, and these wounds… isn't he wanted for-” 

“He didn't do it. He could never. Just- just do what you can. Please. He- he's a hero.”

Standing by the edge of the bed, you reach out with shaking fingers to touch him lightly on the shoulder. He whips his head around, jaw inches from your trembling hand. His chest is heaving, arm struggling against its bindings. 

“Eddie.” 

You kneel to his eye level and stroke softly at the tatters of his t-shirt. He looks panicked, wide eyes rolling like a cornered animal as he continues to struggle. 

“Eddie, I'm here to help you.” 

Nothing but low growls and broken whines come from his tightly bound maw. The thrashing intensifies; he nearly lifts the bed up with sheer force. Steve takes a step back, but not you. 

You climb up on the bed and straddle his floundering form. Blood smears your scrubs as you grasp his head firmly and turn it to face you. 

“Eddie Munson, you listen to me right now! Stop squirming and listen!” 

The silence is deafening, ringing in your ears. He stops his incessant battle against his confines and looks at you, the look of a frightened boy. 

Voice softening, you stroke at the newly grown fur on his cheek. It's soft and warm. 

“Eddie, do you remember me? We used to have English class together two years ago, with Mrs O’Donnell? You sat next to me. Remember?” 

A flash of recognition dawns behind those soft brown eyes. 

“You were late nearly everyday. You used to draw amazing things in your notebook, all sorts of creatures and symbols and I thought it was incredible. You- any time you caught me looking at you, you winked. You know I nearly failed that class because I was too busy staring at you, seeing what you'd do next?” 

His breathing starts to slow down, his heaving chest moving up and down almost rhythmically now. 

“You are Eddie Munson. You're in there, I can tell. I know you're scared, I get it, but I need to try and treat you. OK?” 

He breathes deep, and something akin to a nod happens which seems to hurt him judging by the way his face tightens. 

“Right. Stay still. I need to try and set your arm. I've got some painkillers in the trauma bag, so I'll need to inject you. Can you- can you blink once for yes, twice for no?” 

He closes his eyes slowly, tight shut, and then opens them again. 

“That's it, that's good. I'll be back.” 

Clambering off his huge form, you turn to Steve who is already clutching the bag in his hands. 

“That was- how did you do that?” 

Filtering through the bag to find what you need, you pull out a syringe and unpack it, and find the drugs you're looking for and start setting up the needle. 

“Listen, if I think about this too much I'm gonna panic, so shut up. I've never done this before.” 

A strange calmness has descended upon you. Taking the needle you move back to Eddie's side and find a vein in his muscular arm. 

“Eddie, I'm gonna inject you with some painkillers to take the edge off, OK?” 

One slow blink. 

“Good. You'll feel a scratch, doing it now.” 

Once the drugs hit his system you know they've helped as the tension seems to leave his body. 

“I need to set his arm, can you try and hold him steady?” 

Steve looks like he'd rather run for the hills, but to his credit he nods and approaches. 

“Right, hold up by his shoulder there, keep him still.” 

You untie his limp wrist and Eddie whimpers when his arm falls to the bed. 

“Now, Eddie, this is gonna hurt like hell, but once it's done it'll feel alot better.” 

Instead of counting down you just arrange his arm into what you think is the right place and twist in one smooth motion. 

Eddie's body convulses; you can see Steve trying to push all his weight into him, knuckles white from the pressure. The howling growl that rips from Eddie is muffled by the leather strap around his muzzle, and then it cuts off. 

Eddie is completely still. After a second, a snarling snore fills the room. 

“I think he passed out.” 

“That's probably for the best. Now I need two straight sticks or something, and the bandages from my bag. I suppose I need to splint this.” 

“What do you mean you suppose?” 

“Steve!” 

“OK OK! Jeez, you sound just like Nancy.” 

He jogs off to get what you asked for, and when you have your materials you tie his arm into a makeshift splint. 

“Now, there's trauma shears in the bag. I need to cut his clothes off and treat these wounds.” 

Steve fumbles through the bag as you get more bandages and gauze ready. He passes them to you and you methodically remove the scraps of grimy torn clothes, eventually leaving him in a pair of tatty looking boxer shorts. 

“Are you gonna, erm, cut those-” 

“I think we can leave those on,” you rush it out of your mouth, a little faster and more high pitched than you meant to. 

“Now, I need warm water and a clean towel or something.” 

As you work together, Steve following your directions, you clean and bandage each wound you see as best as you can. After what seems like forever, you're finally finished, collapsing onto the floor exhausted with your back flush against the wall to keep you upright.

“He's probably gonna need some antibiotics. Those bites looked pretty gnarly. Maybe a tetanus shot. Fuck, maybe a vet.” 

You huff a laugh with zero amusement in it as Steve sinks to the floor next to you.

“That was awesome, how'd you know all that stuff?” 

“I'm studying to be a doctor, and I read every chance I get. I'm a junior nurse. You get to see some shit in the ER. Nothing like this, but apparently I must have learned something.” 

“Sure did. You wanna go and get some rest? There's a bed next door.” 

“No, I'll stay here, keep an eye on him. He's gonna need food, and water though.” 

“I got it.” 

Steve gets up and leaves, returning with a chair and a blanket. 

“Thanks Steve. Is Dustin alright?” 

“He fell asleep on the couch, when he's awake we'll tell you everything.” 

He goes then, and you hear the front door shut softly. 

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

You ache, your back bending, contorting in a way that makes it burn. A warm blanket is covering your shoulders though, and the pillow underneath you is firm and fuzzy. There's an odd pressure on top of your head; it's slightly comforting. Risking opening one eye, yesterday's memories begin to flow into your consciousness. 

You're sitting in a chair, bent over Eddie's sick bed, and that's not a pillow. Your head is resting on a furry shoulder. Reaching a tentative hand upward you realise his huge paw of a hand is resting on your head. Fingers find coarse hair, rougher than the fuzz on his chest, and his thick fingers taper into a bone like claw, smooth and curved. 

With the patience of a bomb defusal expert, you lift his hand ever so gently and place it on his stomach. There's much less fur there, you see in the daylight, mostly skin and rippling muscle. It flexes under your gaze as his paw settles on top of it, absentmindedly scratching his skin in his sleep. 

Careful not to wake him, you sit up and stretch, hearing pops and clicks from your backbone. He looks peaceful, huge chest rising and falling gently. The hair on his head is still long, matted and dirty but soft looking. There's a fuzz on his cheeks, and that maw of his is no longer snarling in pain though his canines still jut out slightly. An ear peeks out from his curls, the flesh still soft and pinkish, but it curls into a rounded point with downy fur at the tip. 

Your eyes rake down, over his chest with the tattoo near his heart. The fur is thinner here too, and starts growing thickly in a long rope at his belly button, towards the hem of his underwear. A small gasp escapes you when you see the tent in his boxers. His member is pressing hard against the fabric, trying to break free from its cotton prison. It's thick, and clearly enormously long, your thighs clenching at the thought of touching it. 

Well that was unexpected. You tear your eyes away almost shamefully. Just look at him, he's almost monstrous. Stop thinking about his package. 

The door behind you creaks open, and Dustin is standing there. His gaze sweeps over Eddie, then sees what you just saw. Eyes widening comically, he slaps a hand over his face to block his view. 

You stand, shrugging off the blanket you had wrapped around you, and place it delicately over Eddie. Taking one last look at his peaceful features, you follow Dustin out. 

He and Nancy tell you everything. The demogorgon, the Upside Down, Will, Eleven, Vecna. It takes a couple of hours but you're patient, only asking questions to clarify some points. It's not like you don't believe him. After last night, you think you could believe anything. 

By the time he's done, Steve is back with food, dumping bags in the kitchen. 

“I took Robin home, she's in shock but she'll be alright. So how's Eddie Dog?” 

“Eddie Dog?” You question, brow furrowing. Dustin pipes up. 

“Demogorgon, Demodogs, Eddie Dog. I did think DemoEddie but Dog seems more-” 

“I get it. He seems alright, I think. I mean, he's sleeping. I'll have to check the arm, and see if he gets a fever or anything but that seems like the least of his problems.” 

Nancy speaks then, looking at you gently. 

“You're being really, calm, about all this. You OK?” 

“Oh I'm fine. I don't know why, but I'm fine. I sort of knew, deep down, what's been happening wasn't normal. Something told me I needed to be here, and I was right.” 

Steve nods, happy with your response. At least he doesn't need to worry about you freaking out right now. Nancy just purses her lips and doesn't say anything else. 

“I'm gonna have to untie him, you know. He needs to drink, and eat.” 

“I'll help.” Dustin stands up, but you wave him down. 

“No, I'll do it. He calmed down for me yesterday. I can do it.” 

You stand and walk back over to Eddie's room, pushing the door open carefully. He stirs, looking at you with one eye. 

“Eddie, how you feeling?” 

He snorts, trying to paw at the leather around his muzzle with his injured arm. 

“I'm gonna take that off and untie you. Are you… are you gonna be nice?” 

He settles in the bed, head low to his chest. You take that as the best sign you can get right now. Walking over to him slowly, he turns his head to you. His eyes are soft. 

You reach your hand out and cup his face gently, working the belt off with the other as you make shushing noises at him. You're not sure if they are for his benefit or yours. 

When it's off, Eddie stretches his mouth wide, giving you a flash of rows of sharp teeth, and a long, thick purplish tongue. He snaps it shut and licks his lips dryly. 

“You want some water?” 

He blinks slowly at you. His eyelashes are thick and long, and almost look weirdly feminine against his wolfish face. 

“Oh you remember that?”

Another slow blink. 

“Good. Let me get you some water.” 

You stand up but Steve's already at your elbow with a glass. 

“Hey Munson, still alive then?” 

Eddie stares at Steve for a second, lifts his injured arm up gradually, and unfurls his middle finger. Steve laughs loudly; relief coating it. 

“Seems like you're still you. Good, I can't handle Dustin on my own, he's exhausting.” 

A weird huffing noise comes from Eddie, almost a laugh. You hold the water up and he sits up slightly. No idea of how to get him to drink it, you tip up his chin and trickle some water gently into his open maw. He splutters slightly but manages to swallow it. 

“I'm gonna untie you now, OK?” 

He blinks slowly at you again and an unexpected warmth floods you. You begin at his feet; unbinding them, rubbing his ankles where they are red and sore, and rotating his feet around to get his circulation back. When you move to his bound arm he stares at you intensely, so much so it makes you blush. You take the same amount of time inspecting it, rubbing the redness away and circling his wrist. 

When you move your hand he grasps it awkwardly so you can't move away. An odd noise is coming out of his mouth, a drawn out rumble of sound. His eyes crease with the effort.

A word emerges. 

“...Thank.” 

It's low, animal like, almost a growl, but it's a word. 

“Eddie, you can talk?” 

Tears spring into the corners of your eyes, though you don't know why. His face scrunches again, another bubble of growling sound forcing its way out of his maw. 

“...harrrd.” 

He looks like he's about to cry. You hold his cheek, stroking at the soft fur.

“It's alright, I'm sure it'll get better. You're just not used to it. I'll talk enough for the both of us, OK?” 

He blinks deliberately at you again. A moment passes where you just stare at each other. Shaking your head as if to clear it, you cross to the other side of the bed to look at his broken arm. 

“This looks… this can't be right. Eddie, does it hurt?” 

He blinks once. 

“OK, does it hurt a lot?” 

Two slow blinks.  

Untying the bandage, it looks almost healed. You change it, and inspect his other wounds. They look like they're already scarring, a mass of dried blood sticks to each patch of matted fur and skin but you could swear the damage happened weeks ago. They're healed so much that you take the wrappings off and don't bother to recover them. 

“They've healed. I don't know how, but look.” 

Eddie looks down at the scars on his abdomen, pawing at them in disbelief, causing dried blood to crust off in crimson flakes. 

“Do you think you can stand up? We need to get you clean.” 

He nods softly and you move to hold his uninjured arm to help him up. Placing two elongated feet on the floor, he manages to bend his knees and rise from the mattress. 

He's huge. Seeing him unfurl makes you realise just how huge. He's got to be at least seven feet tall, with a broad chest and thick, powerful legs. He turns to the door and whips you inadvertently. 

“Ouch, be careful with your tail Eddie.” 

He spins, turning to look over his shoulder and stares at you with wild eyes. 

“Yes, tail. Look.” 

His paw reaches and feels it, face twisted incredulously. He shuffles forward toward the door frame with it still in his grip approaching where Steve is standing. 

“Don't play with that you'll go blind,” he jokes. Eddie pats him in the chest with what should have been a mock hit, but the force of it pushes Steve back into the wall. 

“Woah, easy there, big guy.” 

You angle Eddie toward the bathroom and he ducks low, shuffling sideways through the doorway. 

“Hmm,” you say, thinking aloud, “no way you're standing under that shower. Tell you what, if you sit in the tub I should be able to clean you.” 

He stares wide eyed, glancing down to his tattered underwear and back up to you. 

“You need help, Eddie, your arms broken and you shouldn't get it wet. Don't worry, I've seen- no wait, I've not seen anything like this before, but I'm a nurse. I can help you.” 

Eddie continues to stand there, a low growl beginning to vibrate out of his chest. You close and lock the bathroom door, then turn back to him with your arms folded. 

“Enough of that, you don't scare me. Pants off and in the tub. Now.” 

Snapping his teeth in annoyance, he hooks claws into his underwear and pulls them down. As he clambers awkwardly in you briefly see his member hanging between his legs before he cups himself and settles down, squished in the enamel bath. 

“Right, stick your bad arm out to the side, that's it, let me get the water running.” 

You unclip the tiny shower head and turn it on, directing the stream to the plug hole until it's warm enough. Then, you begin to clean him methodically, rinsing all the blood and grime away. His fur is soft, muscles flexing under each gentle touch of your fingertips. You rinse his head of hair under the shower head, massaging his scalp, and a noise bordering on a purr exudes from him. 

You're not sure if you should use shampoo over his whole body, but since all you can find to scrub him with is some drug store 3 in 1 and your bare hands, you suppose that will have to do. You begin to lather his head, rinse it off, and start working down his torso. He squirms, getting more tense the further down you go, until he starts hissing at each brush of your fingers.

“Eddie, what's wrong?” 

Voice tight and strained through his tense jaw, he manages a word. 

“Hurrrt.” 

“I'm sorry, I'm trying to be careful. Where does it hurt?” 

Throwing his head back, it smacks into the wall so hard the room shakes. 

“Eddie, I can't help if-” 

He looks at you and nods downwards towards his crotch, the one place you've avoided entirely so far. You follow his gaze and he awkwardly uncups himself. 

His cock is standing to attention, twitching and throbbing. The end is bulbous and as purple as his tongue, the shaft thick and long, snaking out from a base of matted fur. 

Your face glows with heat, blood pumping viciously to your cheeks. 

“Did- did it get, er, injured, yesterday?” 

He shakes his head, wincing with the movement.

“Do you want me to leave you for a minute?” 

It's practically a whisper. Eddie looks anywhere but your face. Moving his hand, he shows you that he can't hold around the shaft with his thick claws. 

“OK I get you,” you say, nerves shaking your voice.

You said you'd help him. You can just help him, right? 

“D-do you want me to help?” 

His eyes snap to yours, wide and wet. He doesn't move or say anything further, just stares. You reach down with your hand, checking up with his face. There's no change in his beastial features. Hesitantly, you cup the swollen head with your palm. He flinches, water cascading out of the tub, but doesn't take his eyes off you. 

Reaching down, you gather some lather from the grubby water and begin to move your hand up and down his bulky shaft. It feels hot to the touch, and solid as a rock underneath the soft feel of his delicate skin. The noise he makes is almost a sigh of relief, head leaning backward as his spine arches to your touch. 

You're struggling to get your hand around his thickness, so you extend your other arm and wrap both hands around his impressive length, stroking firmly up and down. Eddie starts whining in his throat, a desperate noise. He's thrusting into your grip, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. You start to feel throbbing between your own legs, a pulse thumping deep inside that's difficult to ignore. Focusing on your strokes, you push the feeling to the back of your mind.

You watch him instead, his chest heaving, legs beginning to shake as his dick leaks pre cum down your hands. Adding a twist to the tip of his head with each upstroke, he whimpers and whines in his throat. Impossibly, he seems to be getting even larger. You feel a bulbous growth at the base of his cock at the same time he releases, splattering cum over your fists, his chest, the water, his legs. You've never seen so much cum in all your life. He tenses all over, stifling a broken grunt from his maw. You go to move off him but he places a paw over your hand, a silent plea to keep you in place. So, you keep holding him firmly as his breath starts to regulate again. 

A few minutes later he lets you go, his cock still half hard and slightly submerged in the water. Not saying a word, you rinse him down, cleaning any remaining suds and sticky release off of him, not daring to look up at his face. Once that's done, you cough and stand up, grabbing a scratchy towel to dry him off with. As he gets out of the bath, water winding down the drain and gurgling in protest, you dry him off as best as you can, taking care to be gentle around the scabs and scars. The room smells like wet dog. Finally wrapping the towel around his waist, you step back, looking over his body to check if anything is bleeding. 

A clawed hand reaches to your face, the rough furry knuckle tucking under your chin, lifting it up. For the first time since it happened, you look back into his eyes, shame tumbling in your gut. 

“Thanks.” 

“Don't mention it.” 

He gestures widely at his torso, and you snap back to your senses. 

“Clothes! I'll- I'll find you something to wear, just- just hold on. I'll be back.” 

You stumble quickly out the bathroom, back slamming against the shut door and close your eyes. 

What in the absolute fuck was that? 

You have no answers. Surely you were just being a good friend? A really good friend. It didn't explain why you are turned on so much, your own thighs feeling wet and sticky, slick dampening your underwear. 

Nancy approaches as you snap your eyes open. 

“You OK? Can I help?” 

“Yeah, er, we need some clothes for him. Big clothes. Real big. Is there… anything?”

“Hmm,” she says, “I think I saw some of Hopper's old things in the closet. I can go out? Grab some things?” 

“That would be great, thanks.” 

She nods, flashing a tight lipped smile, and grabs her keys from the side. You search the closet and find a white t-shirt and some sweats, returning to the bathroom to help him put them on. The top is a stretch; on anyone else it'd be baggy but on him it looks like a muscle shirt. After some minor adjustments to the pants, which included cutting a hole for his tail, they fit well enough. 

“Listen, Eddie, I need to leave.” 

He snaps his head towards you, whining. 

“It's alright, I've just got a shift at the hospital. Nancy's getting some more clothes for you, and Steve's brought some food. Go. Go and eat, and I'll be back in a few hours.” 

He huffs, but moves carefully to the living room anyway. You explain what's happening to Steve, making sure to tell him to change the bedsheets, and turn to the front door. As you're about to leave, you hear a low, growling word that shakes through you and makes your eyes brim with emotion. It's your name. 

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

You shower and change at the hospital, willing your shift to be over and done with. Managing to explain away your disappearance last night to your boss with a trite story of helping with Search and Rescue, you breathe in the relief that you won't lose your job. He even understands that you need a couple of days leave; after you hint heavily that you had lost your family in the earthquakes of course. It's a dirty lie, your family doesn't even live near here anymore, but he doesn't need to know that. 

With all the medical emergencies, you're rushed off of your feet, which at least makes the time fly by. After the shift you race back to your apartment, flinging things in a bag. Changes of clothes, a bunch of leftover food from the freezer, and a tape player with a few tapes that you hope will cheer Eddie up. You change as well, putting on a summer dress and tennis shoes, trying to convince yourself you're not doing it for him. 

It's inexplicable; you're aching to see him again. It's like a limb has been severed and the phantom pain is excruciating. Which is fucking mental to say the least. You barely know him, and he's… changed. 

Driving like a woman possessed, you reach the dirt turning in record time, slamming the breaks when you reach Steve and Nancy's cars. At least he's not alone. 

As you jog toward the cabin, you hear a roar, one so loud it dislodges birds from their nests, flapping anxiously to escape. The jog turns into a run as you fly toward the front door, unceremoniously slamming it open. 

“Thank Christ it's you! I can't. I can't deal with him. Please.” 

Steve looks drained, begging you with wide eyes. There's a fresh cut under his eye with a small bruise forming. 

“What the hell happened?” 

Nancy approaches, placing a thin hand on your forearm. 

“Eddie, he's… we can't do anything, he just keeps calling your name.” 

“Roaring it, actually,” Steve adds, looking at your hand with the bulky bag in it. “Are you staying?” 

“Yeah, well I thought, I mean- I live alone. No one's gonna miss me for a few days. The hospital knows, so yeah. I suppose I'm staying.” 

A crash next door makes you all jump. 

“Are you gonna-” 

“Yes, I'm going in there. I'll be fine.” 

As you tiptoe to the door, you hear Steve mutter, ‘she must be one of us, she goes towards the scary noises.’

“Eddie.” 

It's nearly a whisper, but he hears, whipping around to face you. Before you can do anything he's striding forward and wrapping his fierce arms around you. You tense, expecting him to break your ribs, but you relax when the hug is soft. 

Your eyes scan the carnage in the room. The chair you'd sat on whilst nursing his injuries is in splinters on the floor. A cabinet looks like a bull ran into it, and there's glass under your shoes. 

The bed seems fine at least. Coaxing him gently, you lead him to it and perch on the edge. He sits next to you, not letting you go. 

“Eddie what the hell happened?” 

Unclenching his grip, he looks at you with tear filled eyes, anguish etched into his very skin. He's trying to form words, you can see it in the way he's concentrating, but they just won't come. Face screwed up, he balls his fist and howls when a claw digs into his own flesh, which only serves to exacerbate the ball of emotion that's fighting his insides. 

“It's OK, I'm here, just breathe.” 

His maw continues to open and shut, paw gesticulating wildly. You grasp it, being careful of his sharp claws, and try something else. 

“Alright, you can't use your words. That's fine, you can just let it out. Just like, awoooo!” 

You let out your own mini howl as he stares at you in disbelief. 

“Go on, it'll feel good. See? Awwooooo!” 

He stares at you with wide eyes, an almost amused look dancing within them. 

“See? I feel better. Awwooooo!” 

Shaking his large head, he gives you a side glance and tilts his head back to the heavens. 

“AARRROOOOOOO!” 

It's long and loud, bursting in your ears as a wall of sound. 

“Eddie that was awesome,” you gush, hand reaching to wind fingers into his curls. 

“Are you OK, I heard- oh.” 

Steve bursts in and sees you smiling, Eddie staring at you like a puppy. 

“Right, now that's just- what in the- I'll just-” 

He leaves looking stunned, never finishing a sentence. A giggle bubbles out of you, a silly little thing that dances in your chest. Eddie reaches to touch your hand in his hair but the claws hit first making you flinch at the sharpness. He looks at you, pained. 

“It's alright, you didn't hurt me. At least I can do something about that. Come with me.” 

You guide him up and out the room. Steve and Nancy leap off the couch, staring bug eyed, on the cusp of running. 

“It's fine, he's just- frustrated. It's a lot to deal with. I'm sure he's very sorry for scaring you, aren't you Eddie?” 

The last words are directed at him and he looks down at his feet. 

“-Orry.” 

“See? If you calm down a little you can speak. We're gonna cut his cla- his nails.”

Steve shakes his head, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, but Nancy? Nancy just smiles, looking between the pair of you, like she just heard a secret. 

“I think we should go Steve,” she says, holding him by the elbow to guide him towards the door. 

“But we- what if he-” 

“Steve!” 

“Alright, alright! Keep your pants on. I hope you've got food in that big bag of yours, ‘cause he ate three whole rotisserie chickens. Three! Bones and everything.” 

“We’ll be fine. Trust me.” 

Nancy drags Steve out the door as he's shouting over his shoulder. 

“We'll check on you tomorrow!”

“OK!” 

The front door shuts and it's silent in the cabin. Coughing awkwardly, you look around the room searching, speaking as you do so. 

“Right, so, let's sort out the bedroom first.” 

A broom rests against a nearby wall, so you take it and sweep up the glass shards and bits of furniture and dump them outside. It's not perfect but at least you shouldn't cut your feet. 

“OK, nail clippers are not going to work. We need something…  is there a toolbox or…” 

Mumbling away, you finally locate a dusty red snapbox by the back door and extricate a pair of tin snips and a metal file. 

“These should do. Sit down Eddie, I'll put the TV on.” 

He does as he's told, carefully tucking his tail under as he perches on the couch. It screams with the weight but holds steady. 

You get to work, sorting out the claws on his feet before moving to his bearish hands. The TV mutters indistinctly in the background as you clip and file his claws to half their size; as close to his fingers as you dared. When you look up you see Eddie's gaze is transfixed on you. Ignoring the heat of his stare, you finish up, prodding the end of each nail with a finger pad. 

“See? No more scratching. Should be able to practise using your hands more too.” 

A heat rolls across your face at your own dirty thoughts. If Eddie notices, he doesn't say anything. 

“I brought some beers, you want one?” 

He can nod and shake his head now without pain, you've seen him moving with ease, but he chooses instead to blink slowly at you. Gasping a little, you get up and fetch the beers from the fridge and hand one over. It's tricky, but he manages to hold it, looking at you for validation. 

“See? That's great! You just need practice.” 

“Prrractice.” 

“Yes! That's really good, Eddie.” 

You beam a sunny smile at him but he looks down and away from you. 

“What is it?” 

Turning back with glassy eyes, he waves a hand at his new form. 

“-rreak.”

“Sorry, what?” 

“F-rreak.” 

“No! No, Eddie, stop,” you respond, holding one huge hand in both of yours, “you're not a freak. You're scared and, and different, and God knows this is a strange situation, but you're not a freak. You were never a freak.”

He brings one burly arm around your shoulders and hugs you tight to his chest. You can feel the pads of his fingers now, stroking at your arm. For some reason, that's what makes you cry. Tears fall unbidden, streaking down your face alarmingly fast. Eddie pulls away to look at you, eyes brimming with concern. 

“I'm fine, it's fine. Really. I just- I can feel your fingertips now.”

Eddie flashes the closest thing to a smile his new face can allow and laces his tough, furry fingers with yours. You sit like that for a while, drinking your beers and staring mindlessly at the TV. Eyes beginning to close of their own accord, you realise you need to go to sleep before you pass out. 

“I need to sleep Eddie. Hang on, I'm gonna go change.” 

You stand up, fishing a tank top and sleep shorts from your bag as well as a toothbrush, and go about getting ready for bed. 

When you return, the TV is off, and Eddie's sitting in a pair of plain black boxer shorts that Nancy must have bought him. 

“Eddie, do you think you can brush your teeth or do you need a hand?” 

He gets up determined and goes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Trusting he knows what he's doing, you make your way to the spare room. The bed is tiny and there's no duvet or pillow, just a ratty blanket. 

Eddie appears in the doorway. 

“No.” 

“Huh?” 

You turn and he waves a hand at the bed almost in disgust. Taking you by the arm, he leads you to the main bedroom. 

“You, herrre.” 

He turns and the word is out of your mouth before your brain has a chance to wake up. 

“Wait!” 

As he looks at you expectantly, you blush and stammer over your sentence. 

“I mean, that other bed- it's too small for you Eddie, and theres- there's no pillows and-” 

Reaching out with a paw-like hand, he settles it on your forearm gently. 

“Herrre?” 

“Yeah? If you don't mind, of course.” 

Without a further word he climbs onto the bed, covering himself with the duvet you'd found in the closet. You shut the light off and get in too, laying at the very edge of the bed, knees dangling over thin air. 

Eddie's not having that though. His arm swipes over and pulls you close so fast air leaves your lungs in a gasp. You settle into him, hand laying on his chest, a furry leg underneath your knee. 

“Goodnight Eddie.”

“-Night.” 

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

When morning rolls around you find yourself alone in the bed, a cold dip in the mattress next to you. There's noise coming from the kitchen area but it sounds contained; nothing like the sounds you heard when you arrived yesterday. 

The bandage and sticks you hastily splinted his arm with are discarded in a pile on the floor. The material looks like it had been ripped apart by sharp teeth. 

Padding out of the room on bare feet you see Eddie's back. The fur along his spine is longer and thicker than the rest, and his tail is swishing. It's sticking out of the hole you made in a pair of sweatpants as he wiggles a frying pan. 

“Morning Eddie. Your arm healed already?” 

He flicks a glance over his shoulder and flashes his canine teeth, waving the arm around to show you. 

“-orrning. Bet-terr.” 

“Are you making breakfast?” 

He points to a plate next to him where a haphazard tower of pancakes sit. 

“Prractice.” 

You walk over, shivering a little. Someone's going to have to do something about the holes in the ceiling here. Making a mental note to speak with Steve, you cross the room and stand next to Eddie. 

“You need any help?” 

He shakes his head and gestures to the table. 

“Sit. Eat.” 

You pick a couple of pancakes up and put them on a small plate and unearth an ancient bottle of maple syrup from a cupboard. The pancakes are surprisingly good; you find a hair in one but don't mention it. 

“Eddie, these are delicious! Thank you.” 

“You'rre -elcome.” 

“And you're speaking so well!” 

“Prrractice.” 

He sits opposite you with an enormous plate stacked high with pancakes, offering another to you. Taking one more, you place it neatly on your plate. 

“Thanks but that's it. I know you need practice but we don't need so many-”

He picks up two and puts them in his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing and picking up three more. 

“-Oh. We're gonna need more food.”

Eddie nods, finishing the stack of pancakes in less than a minute. When he's done, his thick tongue lulls out to lick his fingers. It's so long, practically wrapping around each individual digit. 

Mouth hanging open, you snap it shut and close your eyes for a moment trying to will the hedonistic thoughts you're having to stop swirling around your brain. 

When you open them again he's staring at you intensely, a hint of amusement in those soulful eyes. 

Looking down to avoid that stare, you ask something that you've been dying to find out. 

“Eddie, can I ask- are you still, you, in there? Like completely? Or is it, different?” 

He looks away, seemingly thinking. It's a while before he turns back, face contorting with the effort of words. 

“Still -e, I think. Head… fog-gy. Hurrts. Prrractice.” 

You nod and reach for his hand, proud of him for his longest sentence yet. He holds yours gently; the thumb rubbing back and forth over your knuckles showing much better dexterity than yesterday.

A loud knock at the door startles you both, until you hear Steve's voice ring out.

“It's me, it's Steve! You alive?” 

Eddie rolls his eyes and you stifle a giggle. 

“No Steve, I died! I was maimed! Blood and guts everywhere!” 

You smile as you say it, winking at Eddie. Steve barges in, shaking his head. 

“Ha ha, very funny. Excuse me for caring,” he turns to Eddie, voice softer than before, “how you feeling, buddy?” 

Eddie flashes his teeth. 

“Bet-terr.” 

“Good, awesome. Hey, did I miss breakfast?” 

“Sure did. Eddie made it.” 

“Really?” 

Steve looks stunned, glancing back and forth between the two of you. 

“Yup, he did. All on his own. Actually, while you're here, we need to fix those holes in the roof. At least board them up or something.” 

“Yeah sure, I can do that, but I'll need a hand.” 

“I… can hel-p.” 

The boys get to work and you leave them to it. You busy yourself too; dusting and cleaning the cabin, hanging a sheet up in the bedroom as a makeshift curtain, and making a list of everything you need from the store foodwise. Then, you add even more to it, including four rotisserie chickens. 

Whilst food is on your mind, you make a huge pile of sandwiches and call them both in for lunch. Steve looks shocked at the amount of food.

“Woah, don't think we need all-” 

Eddie shakes his head and grabs two sandwiches, putting them both in his mouth at once. 

“Ah. Right.” 

“I think he needs a lot of food because of the injuries. He healed so quickly, I mean, he's got to get the energy from somewhere, right?” 

Steve slowly nods, looking at Eddie as he stuffs another sandwich in his mouth. 

“Yeah, I guess. Plus, look at the size of him.” 

Eddie swallows thickly and stares at the pair of you. 

“Can… hearrr you. Rrrude.” 

“Sorry, you're right, that was rude of us Eddie.” 

You reach a hand out and stroke his arm; his gaze immediately softens. 

“Wow, you're like, the Eddie whisperer or some shit.” 

Eddie growls in his throat. 

“Hey, that wasn't about you it was about her!” 

After lunch, they get back to work, completing the patch job on the roof in a few hours. By the time they're done, the sun is starting to set. Steve leaves the pair of you, taking the shopping list and promising he and Nancy will be back tomorrow with fresh supplies. You offer him some money which he swears blind he doesn't need, but you give it to him anyway. 

Once dinner is demolished, you and Eddie sit on the couch, watching some made for TV movie. Well, he seems to be watching it. You're uncomfortable, thighs clenching in an effort to put out the raging fire between them. Hyper aware of his arm over your shoulders, you try to block all the horny signals to your brain but it's not working. Huffing loudly, you bite your lip, shuddering at each touch of his gnarled finger pads on the smooth skin of your arm. 

“You good?” 

You glance up and see Eddie's eyes boring into you. 

“Yeah, of course, I'm great.” 

“Liarrr.” 

Flashing his teeth, he lets out a rough chuckling sound. You press your lips together firmly, refusing to respond. 

“You want me. You… want… this.” 

He points to his mouth, tongue dipping out past his sharp teeth, far longer than a tongue had any right to be. He twirls it in a little circle and puts the purplish muscle back in his mouth. 

“Oh really?” You reply hotly, “and what makes you think that, huh?” 

“Can scent.” 

“What?” 

Wordlessly, he points between your legs. Clenching your thighs harder, you glow scarlet, face igniting with such heat that it almost hurts. 

“Eddie, you can't just say that's it- it's impolite!!” 

Letting out a little howl of amusement, he strokes up and down your back with his large hand sending shivers through your spine. 

He's not wrong. Your panties are clinging to your wet heat uncomfortably, thighs sodden with false anticipation. Your blood is on fire, pumping fast and hard to your aching clit. It's bewildering; you've never felt so needy in all your life. He must be letting out some pheromones or something, brain grasping wildly at straws for an explanation. 

“-Orry. Just… you help-ed mme. I can… help you.” 

“I don't think- I'm not sure that's a good idea. I mean, your heads all foggy, you said, and, and-” 

“Want to.” 

He looks entirely serious, meeting your gaze with hardly a blink. 

Are you really gonna do this? 

Your body is protesting the lack of a decision, pulse thumping hard in your cunt as if to remind you of your predicament. It takes over, urging your hands under your dress to peel off your sticky underwear and put them to one side. Eddie doesn't move, waiting for you to speak, but you can see his pupils are blown, eyes nearly fully black. His snout is snuffling the air, tasting you through his nose. 

“Could you… please?” 

Tears are stinging your eyes at the discomfort. Eddie blinks once slowly at you, and immediately crouches to his hands and knees on the floor. As he crawls between your thighs, it strikes you that the movement seems more natural than him standing like a person. Gently, he slides your dress up your legs and pushes your legs apart with his giant hands. 

You're waiting for the first touch of his tongue, but it doesn't come. First, he smells you, inhaling your cunt so deeply that embarrassment blooms in your chest. The growling, humming noise that emanates from him vibrates into your very bones; it's laced with such desire that your thighs begin to quiver. 

Then, he tastes you; tongue lapping at your sex suddenly. You were expecting it, but you weren't expecting the sheer relief that flooded your senses at the first touch of his dripping maw. He slathers it all over you, cleaning your slick from the tops of your thighs, tongue slithering through your folds, around your clit, right down to your ass, as if he can't get enough of the taste of you. 

Whining and bucking your hips up already, he growls, holding you open with one brutish hand as the other pushes into the softness of your belly pinning you in place. You can see where his thick blunted claws push at your flesh, leaving dimples on your stomach. 

Then his tongue is writhing inside of you, twirling and dancing, hitting spots no other tongue could ever reach. Moans are ripped from your chest, the kind of sounds you would never dare to make before. Pathetic whines, hoarse shouts, screeching cries of pure pleasure. His snout is pressed firmly up against your clit; it's scrunched with the pressure, and each flick of his head makes him nussle it over and over. 

Despite Eddie's firm hand holding you down, you still manage to thrash about, legs twitching and back bucking uncontrollably. Your walls are convulsing around his muscle, fluttering with each pulse. He tongue fucks you in earnest then, knowing you're reaching that crescendo as your noises get even louder. 

You're beyond words. You couldn't tell him you were about to come if your life depended on it. The only word you can manage is a high pitched squeal of his name as your release floods out of you, slick gushing over his face. 

He laps it up, tongue washing over you as you collapse back into the sofa cushions, throat hoarse from yelling. There's an odd, murmuring grunt sound coming from him, the same sound over and over. As your ears finally stop ringing you release he's mumbling a word into you, almost incomprehensible in between licks. 

“Mine. Mine, mine… mmmmine.” 

Over and over he says it; like a mantra, a prayer to your cunt. Eventually you have to tug him away by his hair to stop him compulsively lapping at you. 

He looks up, dazed eyes starting to refocus as he pants like a dog. You pat the fur on his neck over and over, rubbing your fingers through it, your stare desperately trying to tell him what a good job he did. 

As he sinks down and sits on the floor, you join him, sliding off the couch and crawling into his lap. He holds you close, nose nuzzling your neck. 

“Wan’ kiss you.” 

You know what he means. He wants to kiss you properly, like a man and a woman kiss. Not like a beast. 

You cradle his head, making your hands appear tiny in comparison, and twist your fingers gently in his fur. Pulling his closed maw toward you, you press your lips against it softly, nudging his nose with yours like he did with your neck. It seems to placate his needs. He keeps his arms in a tight embrace around you as you move your heads as one, nudging your faces together, letting actions speak instead of words. 

For the second time in as many days, you wonder what the hell you're getting yourself into. 

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

“Eddie, come try this!” 

Calling from the kitchen, you mix batter in a huge bowl, trying to work out if you've used enough sugar. Technically speaking, you're not a chef. Far from it. The last cake you made sank in the middle so much it resembled a sad bundt cake. 

“Eddie?” 

All you hear is muffled music playing from the bedroom. You go and investigate, spatula in hand, and gently swing the door open. 

Eddie's shirtless, his sweats hanging low on his hips, with his guitar slung around his neck. His muscles flex with every strum of his fingers, face screwed in concentration as he attempts to follow along with the tape.

“Eddie?” 

Finally he glances up, eyebrows unknitting as he looks at you. 

“Wherre you find… the aprrron?” 

You'd forgotten about the apron. Glancing down, you see flour dusting it. You brush it off absentmindedly and look back at him. 

“Oh, it was in a drawer.” 

“Hot.” 

You giggle, cheeks flushing. 

“What you doing Eddie? Practising?” 

He huffs, taking his guitar and laying it gently against the bed. 

“Trrrying. Not good enough.” 

“Yet.” 

Exposing his teeth in a bestial smile, he walks over to you. 

“Yet. What you calling forrr?” 

He tilts his head, exposing the fuzzy tip of his ear through his hair, rough hand rubbing up your arm.

“Oh, I see. You could hear me, hmm?” You place your hand on your hip dramatically. He nods, crowding over you, making your breath hitch in your throat, as thick furry fingers stroke at your skin. 

“Well, I was asking you to try this.” 

You tap his nose with the end of the spatula, leaving behind a splat of uncooked cake batter. His maw opens in shock as you laugh. 

“Don't… do…” 

“What, don't do this?” 

You get him again, this time on his cheek, smudging the mixture in the soft fur. He raises an eyebrow at you, face stoic as he crosses his arms over the expanse of his chest. He'd look intimidating, if it wasn't for the batter dripping off his snout. 

“What you gonna do about it, huh?” 

He takes a step backward, unfolding his arms, and cracks his neck from side to side. His knuckles are next, popping with the stretch. Then, he starts growling out a low countdown. 

“One… two… thrrree…” 

“Oh, it's like that is it?” 

“...fourrr… five…” 

You run out of the room, flinging the spatula onto the kitchen side, and look for somewhere to go, but there isn't anywhere. This place is tiny. Jogging around the couch, you hear Eddie roar like a lion and your pulse quickens. He shoulders nonchalantly out the bedroom, crouching low. Adrenaline hits you as you try to work out how to get past. 

Attempting to fake him out, you run one way, then immediately double back, dashing around the back of the couch. Eddie's moves are a blur, husky arm scooping you up by the waist and dragging you over his shoulder in an instant. Kicking and giggling, you bash at his back trying to get him to let go, but you may as well pound on a concrete wall. 

There's a sudden rush of air and your back meets the wooden floor, landing with a soft ‘ooft’ noise. He pins you down, powerful legs straddling you, holding both your arms over your head with one brutish hand almost lazily. It easily circles both of your wrists. 

Taking his free hand, he scoops the mixture off of his nose and licks it with his tongue, twirling it around until every last bit is gone. You're breathing heavily. That display, teamed with him wrestling you to the ground so easily, has your heart thumping a tattoo inside your chest. 

He makes a face, scrunching his snout. 

“That bad?” 

“I know… what rrrather eat.” 

Flashing his pointed teeth, he runs his tongue over them, looking at you like you're his favourite meal. He leans in close, hot breath fanning your face. 

“You like this.” 

“No.” You say, even though you're trembling and hot all over. 

“Liarrr.” He says it whilst tapping his nose. 

He pushes his body against yours so you can feel his solid bulge pressing up against your core. Nothing can stop the whimper that gurgles out your throat, no matter how much you bite your lip. 

A warm hand paws at your breast over the apron as his tongue dances across the shell of your ear. Pushing upward with your hips, you make a futile attempt at escaping. Not that you want to, but the game is just getting good. He growls in your ear and the sound shoots straight to your cunt…

Then the front door flies open. 

“So we got- Jesus Eddie, no! Get the hell off her!” 

Steve drops paper bags on the floor as you both turn your heads to face him. Nancy's running in beside him trying to drag him backwards by the elbow. 

“Steve, I don't think-” 

“It's not what it looks like!” You stammer it out as Steve gawps. 

“What- what's going on!” 

Nancy turns him so he has to look at her, talking to him like a child. 

“Steve, when a man and a woman like each other very much-” 

His face immediately starts glowing scarlet. Eddie clambers off you and holds one hand out to lift you off the floor, hunching awkwardly to try and hide his erection as he takes refuge behind the couch. 

“Seriously? Him? He's- he's-” 

He gestures widely at Eddie. You hear a snarling coming from behind you so you hold a hand out to calm him, fingers meeting soft fur. Your eyes harden as you stare sternly at Steve.

“He's Eddie. He's just Eddie. He might look different but he's still here, and you're being… rude.” 

“You're right, I'm sorry,” he looks over to Eddie sheepishly, “sorry Munson, I didn't mean-” 

“Don't worrry, I… underrrstan’. Harrrd to rremem-berrr… even forrr mme.”

Steve looks surprised at how much his speech has come on, but he doesn't mention it. Instead, he holds out a hand, taking Eddie's giant one in his own and shaking it. 

“Listen, I got what you asked for, it should be all here. If you're both alright, we'll get out of your fur- shit- hair! Out of your hair!” 

Eddie snickers low in his throat as Steve tries to hide his face from his own faux pas. 

After packing the food away, and a couple of hugs and goodbyes, they leave you it. Nancy promises they'll be back in a couple of days to check in, and that they'll knock first. 

Once you're both alone you breathe a sigh of relief, turning to Eddie. 

“I'm sorry about him.” 

Eddie looks down, clutching the back of the couch. 

“I'm s-orry. Should have… ask-ed you out beforrre… this.” 

You round the couch and grasp his bicep in your hands, staring at his side profile. 

“Hey, hey, you didn't know this was gonna happen. How could you ask me out? It's not like you even noticed me really before, right?” 

Eddie refuses to meet your gaze. His eyelashes are dipping down, nearly kissing his cheeks. 

“Eddie?” 

He rumbles a sound out, shaking his head, making his hair ripple about his shoulders. 

“I… lik-ed you. Wan-ted you. Was… scarrred. You werrre.. arrre… too good forrr mme.” 

An ache settles in your chest at his words, face creasing with anguish.

“Oh... Oh, Eddie, don't do that. I'm here now. And I'm not too good, that's just not true.” 

Your fingers wind into his fur, trying to tug him around but it's no use. You can see the tension in his arm underneath. 

So, if that isn't working, you'll try something else. 

“Seems I won.” 

His head turns quickly then, staring at you, muzzle wrinkled in confusion. 

“Our little chase?”

You wipe the remnants of cake batter off of his cheek with two fingers. He watches you intently as you bring them to your mouth, pushing them deep inside and hollowing your cheeks. Eddie grunts, maw extending open slightly as he swallows thickly in his throat. You suck hard, and pull your fingers out, running the flat of your tongue up and around them, leaving a string of spit behind. 

“I think you're right, that doesn't taste good.” 

Eddie's staring at you, eyes nearly black as his tongue lulls from his mouth, panting. 

“So, I won. I got free, didn't I?” 

Eddie's ribs are rising and falling distinctly. He steps toward you, the back of his hand dragging its coarse knuckles over your cheek. 

“Don't count… Caught you.” 

“Yeah? And I got free! So I win, right? Unless you don't think that's fair?” 

Snout nuzzling at your hairline, he breathes in your scent deeply and cups your face, pulling it towards his. You kiss his mouth gently, crushing soft lips against his hard jaw. He pushes his maw against you, opening his mouth and snaking his tongue between your lips. 

It's messy, tongues licking each other as spit pools and drips down your chin. His burly hand rests on the back of your head, covering it completely, forcing you to stay in place, while the other reaches down to grasp at the flesh of your ass. 

When you break away, you're both panting, breathing laboured and ragged. 

“Woah. Fuck,” you huff out between hard exhales, “you can kiss.” 

“Interrrrup-ted.”

“Huh?” 

You're dizzy from the kiss, lips red and swollen, still slightly parted as his fingers trace down your back. 

“We werre… interrrup-ted. Don't count.” 

“Ah, I see. So what do you-” 

“One. Two… thrrree…” 

This time you fly from his grip and race out the room, considering the bathroom for a second before you dive wildly into the main bedroom. Eyes scanning as quickly as you can, you see a trap door at the foot of the bed. 

It swings open when you pull the rusted metal ring and you stick your head inside. It's little more than a crawl space, full of cobwebs and mouldy boxes. You scrabble inside and snap the trap door shut just as you hear a bellowing roar from the other room. 

He won't actually be expecting you to hide, and you're rather pleased with yourself at the spot you'd managed to find, laying on your back wedged in the stuffy space. 

The door swings open and you will your heart to slow down. Surely he can hear it hammering from here? It's thumping loudly in your own ears, blood whooshing through your head. 

The floorboards creak with each step he takes. When he falls to the ground suddenly, crawling on all fours, your thighs clench. 

“Sweet-hearrrt…I know you’rrre herrre… can smell you…” 

His sing-song tone, along with the growling purr of his voice had you biting your lip so hard you could taste tin.

You follow the shadow of his form through the slats, not daring to move, not daring to breathe. Suddenly his massive furred arm swipes under the bed, catching nothing but air. You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle a giggle. 

He goes entirely still, pressing his snout to the floor, and sniffs between the floorboards. You can see his nose twitching just above your head.

“Arrre you… in the crrrawlspace?” 

He sounds impressed, finding the trap door only a second later. Light floods your hiding place as you try to wriggle your body away from him, but there's no room. In an instant he's got your ankles in his clutches as you shriek in protest, pulling you from the gap below. 

In seconds he scoops you up and hurls you on the bed as if you weigh nothing at all, then jumps on top of you, pinning you down as the bed springs squeak dramatically. 

“Cleverrr… but can't hide from mme…” He purrs, and leans closer to your ear, voice a deeper, threatening growl. 

“I can smell yourrr cunt.” 

You take a sharp inhale at his words. As if your pussy could understand him, you feel squelching wetness seep out, aching to be touched.

Eddie sits up, straddling you, and rips your apron and top in half as easily as tissue paper, exposing bare flesh. Greedily, he lathes his tongue from the nape of your neck down to your breasts, swirling it around each nipple leaving a trail of spit in its wake.

Your skin itches, flashing red hot, the throbbing between your legs becoming unbearable. You're whimpering, close to tears with the sheer need for him.  

“Eddie, Eddie please.” 

Wasting no time he climbs off the bed and yanks your jeans off in one go, not bothering to even unzip them, and does the same with his sweats. Standing fully to attention, his monstrous length looks painfully hard, throbbing purple. 

You hook fingers into the waistband of your panties to take them off, but Eddie slaps your hand away, and leans down, hot breath dancing over the skin of your thighs. Sharp teeth graze your abdomen, not enough to cut your skin but enough to leave angry red marks in a pathway to your sex. 

Then he's gripping your underwear in his teeth and ripping the flimsy lace off, leaving it in shreds. The feral gesture has you groaning out loud, thighs immediately opening to him. A thick tongue slivers through your folds, tasting you, until he presses a clawed finger to your opening, thrusting it inside with no warning. 

“Fuck, that- that feels so good!” 

Just like when he went down on you, that familiar rush of relief at his ministrations pours over you, nearly bringing you to tears. He moves up the bed, other arm holding him steady above your head so he can crowd your senses, intently watching your face as he fucks you with his finger. 

He forces another finger in making you cry out, small hand gripping at his forearm to try and slow him down, but his movements are unrelenting. 

“Eddie, too much, please-” 

He growls, the sound making you clench even more around him as he curls his fingers, keeping them painfully deep inside. 

“Have to. You need… to take me… prrrincess.” 

You nod your understanding as you wince at the stretch, but the discomfort melts away as your release slinks up your spine, heat pooling in your belly making you moan and push back into his grip. His rough palm presses harshly into your clit, thick skin slipping against the silken nub.

“See… goood girrrrl.” 

You clutch at his fur as your orgasm expels from your body, throwing your head back into the mattress as your cunt gushes around his grip violently. He purrs his satisfaction in your ear and pulls his fingers from you. Rubbing them over his pulsating shaft, he spreads your slick and holds his girth by the base. 

“Eddie, I-I'm ready, I need you.” 

Grunting at your words, he forces the swollen head into your soaked folds. Your eyes snap tightly shut as you cling desperately to muscle and fur. Seemingly unable to control himself, he thrusts his whole length straight into you, tilting his head back and roaring so loud that dust falls from the ceiling. 

You're expecting blinding pain at the enormity of his length but it doesn't come. Instead, that first thrust pulls a second orgasm from you, one so profound that it fizzes through your every nerve and leaves spots in your vision. The blazing heat of your skin subsides as you throb around him, your prior discomfort melting away entirely. The same sureness that settled in your gut when you arrived is back. This is where you're supposed to be. 

No words come from Eddie, just forceful thrusts and throaty noises as he fucks into you like an animal. He's on his hands and knees, one arm dipping into the small of your back, holding you firmly against him as he forcefully humps into you, using you. The slick sounds of your conjuncture echo through the cabin; all wet sucking noises, gravelly growls and high pitched moans. 

Suddenly he snarls, teeth exposed, and grabs you by the hips, flinging you to the floor on your front. Your breath leaves you in shock, wooden boards rough against your naked skin. Yanking your ass in the air by the flesh of your hips he forces his throbbing member back inside, fucking into you so harshly that it's hard to stay upright. You're slipping forward with each piston of his hips, arms trembling with effort. 

Eddie's panting, pools of drool gathering at the base of your neck, mixing and mingling with your sweat. A sharp pain cuts through all the pleasure, ripping into the meat of your shoulder, causing you to scream and tense up, pussy fluttering pathetically around him. It pushes you over that precipice once again, the hurt and the bliss intertwining into a mass of feeling, tangled and twisted, unable to exist without the other. 

His member swells, growing impossibly, and a bulbous growth locks in you as he releases with a desperate broken howl. You feel the pumping of his cum deep inside, coating your trembling walls, claiming you.

A minute or so later he's collapsing to the side, pulling you close with his bearish arm, still firmly buried inside your cunt. Time seems to stop as you both pant, gasping for air, tangled in his furry embrace. As his breathing finally slows, he manages to purr one word in your ear. 

“Mine.”

Part 2

Taglist (if you want to be added please send me a PM)

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n

[ms--lobotomy]

Hi, can I request a Konrad Curze x reader oneshot? I like how you’ve written him so far.

anon im so stupid for curze its not even funny. i love rat men. in my head hes really dumb but also a little shit.

---

summary: curze has no idea how to court someone he finds attractive, lmao

word count: 1184

content warnings: its curze so nearly comical amounts of violence, i feel like im putting a lot of headcanons on him but what even is canon anymore we're all primarch fuckers here, also its kinda toxic because its curze

---

Nostramo was a lightless planet. The only things illuminating the path you tread were manmade lights, harsh and unyielding. It didn't help that it was pouring rain, either. You trod alone, but it was time for the factories of the planet to close, so you were just one face in a sea full of people.

You felt the hairs on the back of your neck bristle. This wasn’t an uncommon feeling, things commonly went wrong in the hive city in which you lived. You clutched the bag you were holding, a sad brown thing that carried the remnants of corpse starch and some money and other things you needed to get through work. It smelled awful. 

“Put the bag on the ground,” you heard a voice behind you proclaim. You felt something round and hard at the back of your neck. 

You already knew what to do. Nobody turned around to look at you, the people walking home milled around the two of you. You turned around to see someone wearing nondescript black clothes and bearing a cold iron gun. You put your bag on the ground. “Here you go,” you sighed. He did have a gun, but this wasn’t your first day around town. “There’s maybe two coins in there, if you even care,” you continued. “Enjoy.”

Just before you turned around, while you were thinking about how many factory shifts you would need to replace your dearly departed bag, a dark blur hit your mugger. Your… would be mugger now, because he had just become a cloud of blood and viscera. It would be almost comical if a man weren’t turned to dust before your very eyes. 

Your eyes darted to that… thing that attacked him. It--no, he--was tall, very tall. Maybe twice your height. He had dark, unkempt hair and his sclera was black. The crowd was starting to disperse, taking different directions, but you stood there dumbfounded. And he looked just about as dumbfounded as you did. 

“Um…” you managed to squeak out. “Can I help you?”

He pursed his almost nonexistent lips. “Follow me,” he said, his voice more rumbly than anything you’ve heard come out of a human before. You weren’t even sure if this was a human you were dealing with. While you were busy contemplating whether or not the being in front of you could be considered human, he put a firm hand on your shoulder and started walking. You had to run to keep up, or you felt your shoulder was going to be yanked from your body. His fingers dug into your flesh, almost breaking it open. You saw the crowd part in front of you, the odd person giving you a confused stare before darting away with the rest of the crowd. 

After winding through the streets of the dimly lit city, you found yourself in front of a large, imposing building. Skulls around your size hung on pikes around it, and that had to be human skin carpeting the ground. 

“Your… new quarters,” he said bluntly. 

“Excuse me?” you asked. You had lived in crummy apartments your whole life. Having a whole building, let alone one this large, was an alien concept to you. Not to mention the uncouth decorations. 

He stared, nothing hiding the crazed way in which he looked at you. You looked away to break the intense eye contact. A few moments later, he scanned his hand and led you through the door. The door was the perfect size for him, but the knob was just a little further down than you were tall. 

“Thanks?” you asked as you entered the threshold of the building.

You entered the elevator in the center of the room, and it shot you up to the highest floor of the building. It was as if you could see the entire city from where you were. His hand trailed from your shoulder to your waist. You looked out to around where you came from, there were people milling around again as if nothing had happened there. You looked back up at the man who had brought you here. He was staring at you again with that same crazed look in his eye. 

“Who even are you?” you asked. 

“You don’t know?” he responded. The crazed look became one of genuine confusion. “You haven’t heard of the Night Haunter?” 

“I have no idea who that is,” you responded flatly. “I don’t get out often.”

“Well…” he said, looking away from you for a second. The elevator dinged, you were at the floor you were looking for. His hand left your waist. He turned around to exit, but you could still hear him fine. “You can call me Konrad.” 

He scanned his hand next to the single door, and it swung open. The room that greeted you was nothing short of opulent. Windows opened up a view of the city, and there was a bed big enough for three Konrads nested in one of the corners of the room. Sure, the paintings on the wall were… unsettling, but you’d seen worse. He put a hand on your shoulder again and led you to the window, staring down at the city. You couldn’t escape if you wanted to. 

“Why are you doing all this?” you asked as he knelt down next to you. He was still taller than you. 

He took one of your hands in both of his, clasping his hands around yours. “I…” he started. “Uh… I suppose this is how courting works, correct?” 

Your mouth hung open. Of course this was what he was doing. What other explanation would there be for this behavior? “Absolutely not,” you said after a moment. You couldn’t help it, but the corners of your mouth quirked up. You knew that he could tear you to shreds if he wanted, you could be another part of those skulls and skins at the front of his dwelling if he so chose. But there was something about the gestures that he made that was… charming. 

“We will be sharing a bed anyways,” he said, bringing your hand to his mouth. He ran his lips over it in an almost-kiss, but pulled away. “I imagine you are going to be okay with this arrangement.” 

You felt your face go warm. “I… I guess I can’t refuse, can I?” 

Konrad chuckled. “You are getting it,” he replied. “Now, it is getting late. And you need to go to bed.” 

“I just got off of work,” you protested, but Konrad led you to the bed nonetheless. He practically threw you on the mattress before slumping onto it himself. After hitting a button to turn the lights out, he grabbed you and held onto you. You went limp on the bed. If he said you were going to bed, who were you to argue? 

His breath was warm on your exposed neck, his face nested in the crook of your neck. You ran a curious hand through his unkempt hair. The bed was softer than anything you’d ever experienced. 

You could get used to this.

[0p1er0]

Prompt: How do you grieve someone who's still alive?

✨ For @undertale-fic-librarby birthday event ✨

This is a sequel to my other fic "In The Rubble Of Our Sins, I Grow"

No beta reader 😞 I struggle so hard with prompts but I tried

------

The voice came back again and again but never strayed too close to the hidden ruins.

It had a strong booming voice that rolled over him like thunder. The gentle rain of whispers only coming after, making the initial yell only seem louder. The later calmness reminded Dream so much of his once softly spoken Brother.

he wonders what his not brother's new voice sounds like, if it would be smooth and sweet like honey or have the raspy crunch of snapped honeycomb as a bear feeds. Bee's swarming, trying desperately to save their home as it is destroyed without a second thought like what happened to the village.

The buzzing of the bee's collecting pollen from nearby flowers didn't seem so scary now. The small bumbling bugs were relatable in a way. They were scared just like Dream when their family, friends, and neighbors died.

The voice left suddenly, the gentle tapping of his voice only really noticeable after it left. it was like the sun and happiness that had been shining over him was quickly clouded. Dream looked to some of the few remaining bricks he could still see of his forgotten village. they were covered with moss and vines alike, weeds sprouting from underneath as an occasional critter crawled.

It was later in the season when the Voice finally stepped around the front of the statue, close enough for Dream to really see him. He was rather round for a skeleton. He didn't know there was more skeletons, let alone one that was a round copy of his brother. The softness of this new skeletons clothes aligned with the gentle tapping of his voice.

A gloved hand reached up and gently ran its fingers across his moss ridden cape.

"Wowie! you look really life like, Statue!" He exclaimed, "You kinda look like me! but that might just be because we're both skeletons.. mm" moving his hands up to scratch his chin.

The skeleton had blue eyes, blue deep like the cover of Nightmares favorite book. brilliant rings in his sockets that spin unlike Dream's forgotten dull ovals.

"I wonder who carved you" the skeletons eye lights turned to stars. "They must of loved you a lot to put that much effort into you!"

...Did Nightmare love him?

A dark hand flashed in his vision. reaching for his soul as he hurried to consume the last golden apple. There was so much hunger in those crazed eyes, like the dog that got rabies and chased him up a tree all those years ago.

Nighty had lunged the second he finished the apple, reaching, scratching, and tearing at the air like it was an old well read story book who's pages gave away at the slightest touch. It burned, then it ... didn't. it was ice cold, freezing him as he stood. He didn't feel anything now, not the vines that wrapped his arms and weaved through his once bones or the strong sun.

The only thing he could feel for the longest time was grief, grief for his friends, the villagers but most importantly his brother. He wasn't supposed to be able to feel grief, He was Dream! guardian of positive emotions which means he needs to always be positive. Grief was not something he was allowed to feel.

Movement in front of him snapped him from his thoughts. The blue skeleton had moved away and was looking at an old rabbit burrow. The top had caved in during a storm, leaving a slight indent in the soil, it was almost completely covered in grass.

He had named that rabbit.

Next

[jade-muffins]

Uhhhh fnaf fic I slap this here now:

Basically William Afton's UCN hell and what happens when he gets caught or in game terms "jumpscared"

I wrote this at 1 AM so it's like not the greatest but I felt kinda violent and decided why not let's slap it on here and leave

TW: Blood, gore, torture/extreme violence

One single mishap can cost someone their life. Or....in the case of William Afton, who is already in his own special hell, another case of agony.

The agony can be quick, or excruciatingly slow. It depends on who you're caught by, really. Some of the most vicious, Afton concluded, were the Nightmares. That wasn't exactly a surprise, considering their sinister appearance served as a warning to their violent nature. Unfortunately for Afton, the ones he managed to get caught by this time were not one, but two vicious creatures. One of them being Nightmare Fredbear and the other being Nightmare himself.

Afton clenched his jaw, teeth almost grinding together, attempting to keep the screams of pain in as Fredbear had his giant claw slowly dig into Afton's shoulder as he held him there, unable to do any damage or even dream of breaking free. Nightmare stood near Fredbear's side, both of the gigantic death bear animatronics so big compared to William who was so tiny in comparison.

"Do you see us, Afton?" The nightmarish black bear monster asked, tilting it's head.

"How could I not?" Afton spat with a sneering laugh.

"We're here because of your wickedness....I am a manifestation of your wickedness...of your sick and twisted mind...obsessed with your work and yourself, nothing more..." Nightmare snarled.

"Do you even remember them?" Nightmare Fredbear asked, looking Afton right in the eyes with his own glowing, piercing mechanical ones. "Do you remember what you did? How much suffering you have caused?"

William stared for a moment before the corners of his mouth began to twitch upward. It started off small, but he soon began to cackle. "I could NEVER forget! I remember every single one. Every. Single. One." His face contorted into a wide, wicked sort of grin. "I remember their hopeful faces. The innocence. The realization. The screams. The blood. Their bodies stuffed in those animatronic husks... I remember every grisly detail!" William yelled, staring at Fedbear with his own crazed eyes with that horrid grin. "I definitely remember...I remember all of you..." The animatronic just twitched.

William's smile faltered when Fredbear raised his other clawed hand and latched right onto William's right arm. Digging the claws in made him grunt in pain, but that's when Fredbear began to pull. The thumb claw of his other hand dug right into William's right shoulder. "Agh-! Wh-What- What are you doing??"

"I want to see how many times you can be pulled apart," he said coldly, those animatronic eyes wide and menacing enough to send a chill down anyone's spine.

"W-Wait, WAIT!!" Fredbear did not heed William's pleading as he began to pull slowly but forcefully. Thumb claws helped to rip flesh, muscle and tendons. William began to shriek, screaming in agony as his arm tore from his body. Crack. Snap. Rip. He gave a shrill wail that turned into a pained sob as the last strip was torn away. The searing, horrible pain that plagued him afterward caused him to let out a choking whimper, his body wracked with a feeling of traumatizing shock. Tears, while they were present through this whole process fell faster and harder as he saw the exposed skin and bone and the flowing blood. His skin and bone. His blood. He turned his terrified, burning eyes back to Fredbear, who now seemed even more intimidating, holding the arm he ripped away from Afton. He almost vomited at the sight of it, realizing Fredbear ripped away most of his shoulder as well. Fredbear opened up the mouth on his stomach with rows of menacing teeth and threw the arm inside. It bit down hard and blood splattered outward, crushing the arm and snapping the bone.

Afton shivered, each heavy breath accompanied by a pained groan. He tried to gain composure, but having your arm and shoulder forcefully torn off took a second to recover from. The spring locks were excruciating, they pierced his body all over, trapping him in an animatronic prison. The spring locks, however, came relatively quick. Having a limb ripped off in this manner was quite slow, and he had not felt true pain in so long. He shuddered, trying not to show any fear. He closed his mouth and swallowed. He then started to....smile again.... William let out a shaky breath, the smile widening. He realized something....

"You're....angry....!" He grinned, voice still shaking. "Hah...HaHAHAHAH!!" His laughing became hysterical. "I'm making you angry, aren't I?? After all these years I can still get to them, to you! This is a special hell made for me, and I can still get to you???" He kicked his legs and laughed, throwing his head against the wall in mania. "Just KILL me already! Kill me and throw me back in!" He shouted to Fredbear. As soon as the bear raised another clawed hand...

"Don't let him get to you..." A deeper voice began. Nightmare came forward and looked at Fredbear. "He is begging to die. He wants to die...at least right now...keep the torture brutal and slow. Drag it out for as long as a mere human body can take it. Then throw him back into repeated hell. He deserves that and more for being a twisted, wicked man..." he snarled slowly turning to Afton. Afton's smile dropped. "Rip off his other arm. His legs. Gut him. Make him scream, make him cry, make him beg for it to end. Claw out those cruel eyes so he has nothing to shed tears with. Cut his deceptive throat so he has nothing to scream with...take apart as much of him as you can... Make him watch his own mutilation."

"Wait....no...NO! KILL ME!!" Afton screamed as Fredbear took hold of one of his legs. "KILL ME!! KILL ME NOW, PLEASE!" He shrieked.

"Do you smell the rust, Afton? Do you smell the blood? I'm sure you're familiar with it. Get used to it again. It'll be the last thing you register in these final moments before you're thrown back in to rot. Again," Nightmare growled, red eyes glowing with a searing hatred before he nodded to Fredbear.

All the animatronics present could hear the shrieks, sobs, and wails of the man coming from his office. The begging, the sound of breaking bones and the tearing of flesh.

And when it finally ended:

Afton woke up again. He shot up, sweating and breathing heavily. He held himself, making sure both arms were there and looked down, trying to assure himself he still had his legs. He swallowed, and looked to his abdomen, making sure that there was no painful slit in his throat or that he wasn't basically stabbed and gutted, making him choke on his own blood. He opened and closed his mouth to make sure he still had a jaw. Even though he could still see, it was hard to believe his eyes were perfectly fine after having needle-like claws slowly pressed into them.

His heaving breaths slowed as he looked around. He was...in the office. Again. Of course. Just like Nightmare said. "Ah...hah...Hah...HAHA!! HAHAHAHAHA!" William cackled as the pressure collected behind his eyes and burned. Not too long after, the gates opened and tears began to roll down his face. He ran a hand through his hair and kept a chunk of it in a tight fist. The grin contorted into a face plagued with exhaustion and anguish as he slowly lowered himself to his elbows on his desk. His laughing turned into pathetic, stifled sobs. He seemed so small. Yet he still ended up smiling.

This really was hell.

[1-800-got-junk]

Jackass boys as the front bottoms songs (and scenarios)

included: Johnny, Ryan, Bam, Pontius, & Steve-o

——

johnny: peace sign

“You remind me of a song

Got it on an old cassette

Sounded like an angel singing

About a pain in her chest”

idk why but the opening lines of this song remind me of him SO HARD. i feel like it’s something he would think about you if maybe you were a part of the cast and you’re kinda a dirt-ball like the rest of them LMAOO,, it’s kinda a running joke that you’re gonna be single forever because of how insane you act. you’re the EPITOME of a jackass, somehow worse than all of them combined. but he’s totally whipped for you and just feels like you’re the most beautiful and interesting person in the world (he’s def to scared to admit it though because let’s be honest, you’re very intimidating) 🫶 he’s like staring at you with heart eyes while you’re laughing your ass off, nursing a bloody nose because you totally ate shit on a stunt that was in no way possible to stick. but you still fucked it up in a way that no one even thought was feasible because of how stupid it was. he thinks that your gravely laugh (it’s more of a cough at this point), courtesy of last nights craze that you don’t even remember, is like god let him listen in to the sounds at the gates of heaven.

ryan: everyone but you

“I hate everyone but you

Everyone but you

I fell in love

‘cause no one saw me the way you did”

do i even need to explain this.? we ALLLL know ryan is the mf king of pretending to be all annoyed and brooding. in reality this man is a teddy bear. even though he’s a total faker, it’s basically like he hates everyone compared to how much he LOVES you. he’s like deeply, madly, truly head over heals for you. one day you visit him while filming and he does absolutely no stunts because he can’t be pried away from you. the next day he gets stuck with bottom of the barrel, bonus cut stunts but he doesn’t even care because he got to spend time with you. i also feel like he’s the type to confide his partner like no one else, y’know? like if you’re in a relationship with him trust is the #1 thing and it takes him a sec to get 100% totally comfortable with you, but once he finally does it’s like you can see into each other’s souls and you have a really unique connection. 🥲

bam: lonely eyes

“You’ve got me stuck to where I’m sitting

Looking at your eyes

Then I know I’m so pathetic

I wouldn’t move to save my life”

~

“And if you need a little sunshine

You can borrow some of mine”

(i feel like this one might be a bit of a stretch, but it’s also the first one that came to me and i can’t shake it LMAO)

i imagine the scenario being that you’re a part of the cast, maybe a sound girl or something more “corporate” like a risk analysis for insurance and you just feel really out of place with all the guys. you’re kinda anxious and keep to yourself. you just try to do your job and everyone leaves you be, not in a rude way but in a “she seems totally freaked out being here and we should probably not mess with her so she doesn’t quit on us” bam can’t stand that though. he goes totally against what everyone tells him and starts talking to you all the time, you’re mysterious to him and he wants to know more. after a while he comes to realize that you’re 10x cooler than him and now he is stuck to you like glue. he’s always trying make you laugh by doing stupid shit and messing with all of the guys just to entertain you, hoping his bullshit will make him as interesting to you as you are to him. everyone is super confused because he’s so sweet to you instead of being his usual d-bag self, and you haven’t ran out yet. he’s just super patient and caring towards you and you’re the only one who can leave him speechless just by being around <33333

pontius: vacation town

(let’s pretend that this is a happy song, sung in the present tense instead of it being a song looking back on a relationship, ‘kay?)

“I miss the hours in the morning

And you in the morning hours

I miss walking, naked

Through the backyard to get to the outdoor shower”

i feel like this is another one that doesn’t really need an explanation. these lines just SCREAM pontius to me. you guys have been dating forever and are just attached at the hip. two totally codependent dumbasses fueling each other’s stupidity for all time. you come with him to all the different locations for wildboyz mostly just hanging back at where ever you’re staying, occasionally coming with when they film if you find it particularly interesting, but staying off camera and to the side. after a long day of being away, you and chris just totally knock out when you get back to where you’re staying. for some reason chris wakes up super early before you as the sun is rising and is just breathless looking at you. you’re curled around his arm, hair all over your pillow and face, drool smeared all over your cheek. to any one else you’d look a hot mess but something about the way the sun is hitting your face making your skin almost glow has pontius totally entranced like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again… bye i love him

steve-o: jim bogart

“I would stop doing all those things the doctor tells me not to do

But I don't think he understands, I do all of these things for you”

LITERALLY THE WHOLE REASON I DECIDED TO MAKE THIS POST. this song reminds me SO FUCKING HARD of all the jackass boys. like literally you could listen to this song with any of them in mind and it would work, but i feel like this line is specifically STEVE-O, STEVE-O, STEVE-O. you can’t argue me on this. it’s actually him to a fucking t. like he literally started doing stunts because he wanted his ex girlfriend to worry about him LMAOOO. everything he does is for you. he lives and breathes FOR YOU. every stunt he performs he thinks, “would they like this?” “would they thing this is funny?” “dude i bet they’re gonna think this stunt is so sick”. he does the absolute gnarliest shit just because he knows it will entertain you. it’s not like you want him to be in danger for your entertainment, absolutely not. but if he’s gonna do dumb shit you’d rather be present for it and get a laugh than be worried sick after getting a call from johnny explaining that he’s in the hospital again. you’d be more than content to tie him up in bubble wrap and never let him risk even a stubbed toe ever again, but you know if he’s not preforming a stunt for you he’s doing it for the rest of the crew. or a fan. or some random dude he found on the street. so you might as well come along for the ride and endure all the dirty looks from the nurses and doctors after steve-o explains that he cracked a rib because he knew the stunt leading up to it would make you smile :)

a/n: okay idk why but i’m actually really proud of this LMAOOO,,, also idk if there’s even an audience for this but inspiration hit and im not about to let it go to waste HAHHAHAH

ALSO, also if all the different colored text is annoying im sorry LMAO let me know if it’s distracting so i can change it in the future, i just like it but it’s not really important to me if it’s annoying

[zuzu-hotman]

Ready To Love Pt.2 [[Zuko]]

Pairing: Zuko x Female!Reader

Warnings: More angst??? Dark-ish imagery?

A/N: Uh so I got asks for more??? I want you all to know most of my works are angst- but I live for good ends so dw (; I’ll link the first part after posting bc tungle is dumb. Anyways, probably gonna do a third cause there’s a bit more I want to do with this and I don’t want too much at once <3

Pt.1

“ Hᴇʏ, ᴡɪʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴏʟᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ?”

Seeing him again was like adding salt to deep wounds- rubbing the coarse grains deep into gashes, open and bleeding. You kind of hated that it hurt so bad- you were supposed to be over it. You were supposed to be completely done with him. With all remnants of him. His choice was clear- the truth was laid out bare for your eyes to see.

He was not who you thought he was. He was not the Zuko you knew in your mind- and maybe he never was.

No one who had once worn a kind smile could look like he did that day, right? There was no way someone like that could just... lose all sense of themselves? That look he held- the crazed fire in his eyes.. how those flames should have touched you- burned you. Perhaps Zuko was not as skilled as Azula. He didn’t bend the way she did, but that didn’t make him any less powerful. He had good aim- he knew you’d find it hard to even try to make an attack on him. He could’ve used that against you- it’s what Azula would have done.

You assumed that if he could so easily turn into Azula’s direction.. he’d be able to be as cruel as her. That he’d use your weakness to him against you. You felt the heat of his flames, you knew they could have scorched you. You weren’t that accustomed to fighting yet. For a long time you had suppressed your bending- scared of what it might bring you and what it meant for your future.

You came to regret that eventually. You could have told your parents- your Father could have shown you so much..

Fate was absolutely cruel- you firmly believed this now. She had no right to harm you like this- to drag you through the mud, already beaten down and tired.

She allowed him the chance to be in this group. You wanted to object, violently so. It wasn’t your place to though. Your personal ties to him had no place stopping him from teaching Aang about fire bending. The Avatar needed to know all four elements to bring balance. It was important to Aang’s journey and to putting an end to this long war.

That didn’t make you despise it any less. Hatred or anger- which was it you felt?

“Please talk to me..”

His quiet plea fell upon your ears in the dead of night, long after everyone else had retired to their own spaces. You had suspected he’d find his way to you soon- someway or somehow. With no one else around to bear witness. You hated how you froze in place- how all that anger just fizzled into nothing at the sound of him. So sad- so lonely. You were his only link to his former self, to who he should have become. A tiny string stuck on it’s last thin thread. You didn’t know that however. t’s not as if that was his only reason for reaching for you like this, and that you didn’t know of as well. You were in the dark on his feelings.

As you assumed you always had been.

“___, please..”, he whispers once more when he gets no response.

You make sure to keep your breathing even, to not move at all. Give him an inch and he’d probably take miles. Miles upon miles- stretch you until you break into tiny pieces. Yet some small pieces would still yearn- crave for what your brain told you not to. 

You hear his breath hitch a bit, as if he’s fighting back overpowering emotions- him? The glorious crown prince who had slain the Avatar? The prince who turned a blind eye to you, to his good Uncle? The audacity- and yet you felt no actual anger. Not when he spoke.

“I- I’m so-- ___ I’m so sorry. I know that’s not enough. I know it will never be enough- I was wrong. I did everything so wrong and Uncle- I’m sure he hates me. I’m sure you do too. I never meant- I thought it was my destiny to.. to.. capture him. For my honor and my nation. I thought I was right and..”, he takes in a shaky breath. You’re glad you can’t see him. His face just might break you. “I hurt you. I hurt Uncle. I-I made you not trust me- I disappeared and I never responded to any of your letters- I still have them I- I don’t know.. I don’t have a reason or any excuse I just.. please. Please at least talk to me- say something! Anything! I’ve missed you- I was miserable- it’s not home.. not without you. I made mistakes even there I.. even she told me that I was wrong.. even..” and he trails off, gaining no response.

Little did he know he was close to getting one. She? He didn’t mean Azula.. he would have said her name. You hated how your chest burned- what mistakes could he make there? At home? No- not home. Not your home.

“...You’re sleeping.. I hope. I almost got loud. I’m..”, he sucks in a breath, “Okay. Another time.”

You choose to ignore the way he sniffs- knowing all too well it meant he’d shed tears. If you acknowledge it, you know what may happen. You know how it’d go- how weak you’d be. This isn’t how it should be, you should be able to ignore him without batting an eye. He should be able to just let you go. He’d already done so. What was the use in this? Hadn’t he decided already, who he was or at the least who you were to him?

Clearly nothing-

You let out a heavy breath, almost shudderingly so when you hear his footsteps fade away. You clench your eyes shut, banishing any trace of wetness from your eyes. No no no- you would not cry. Not again, and not anymore. Remember how he looked- remember those crazed eyes and harsh blasts of fire. Remember and hold it- no apology could fix it. Not so simply. It would take much more than words because.. you weren’t sure your aching heart could take much more of it..

Morning came quickly, with no remorse to any who had not slept in her absence. Specifically to you or Zuko. Luckily enough, you hid it well enough. Zuko? Not so much. Clearly he looked like he’d had a fitful sleep.

Hmph-

“Wow. I didn’t know it was possible for you to look even angrier than usual.”, Sokka pipes up, already at his usual antics of antagonizing the newest group member.

“Shut. Up.”, Zuko hisses in response, causing Aang and Toph to laugh a bit at his expense.

“You really should sleep. Set a good example for your new student.”

“I said shut up.”

“He is kinda right, you know.”, Toph adds in, “It’s not good to be up so late.”

Zuko freezes for a moment, but says nothing else. You’d almost forgotten- Toph was very attuned to the earth. Of course she’d know if anyone was up and moving. The only thing to question was if she’d heard him. At the time though, there would be no answer to it. He wouldn’t ask and she didn’t seem keen on pressing the issue. No one else was aware either. So it just faded into silence, not spoken of. It was replaced by Zuko barking at Aang that it was time to start his training.

“I lost my stuff.”, he says it so plainly. Uninvited and without any context.

“Wasn’t me.”

Zuko makes a face, “No I mean my bending- I don’t know I..”

You decide to tune him out, spacing away from his frustration and Katara’s laughter. Was he really that out of it? He suddenly couldn’t bend? What a load of garbage. If he expected you to feel bad, you didn’t. Not even the slightest. Serves him right for the look he gave you when he learned of your bending. When he saw the element of fire was not in you to control, but-

“___” , He speaks your name softly.

You look up to where he stands, a few feet away. You hadn’t noticed everyone else had already gone to bed. It was just you and him and the dwindling fire between you.

“I-”

“Goodnight.”, you say, starting to stand up, brushing your legs off.

“Wait-”, he gently grabs the sleeve of your shirt but you push his hand away.

“Don’t touch me.” You don’t look at him- you can’t. You must remain strong- don’t do what you did in Ba Sing Se. Don’t fall into that hole a second time..

“At least hear me out- get mad all you want. Scream at me- hit me I don’t care just-”

“I’m not going to do that. You made your bed. Lie in it.”

“I did, you’re right. I did and I’m so-”

“Don’t apologize. Teach Aang bending. I’m not a part of this- none of them know I knew you, which clearly I didn’t. I never did. I know you as this guy I bumped into in Ba Sing Se. This guy that I thought I was nice and had a good heart but I guess I misjudged. Maybe he just feels guilty or that apologizing to me might right his wrongs or whatever. If this is your way of getting them to trust you more, I’ll allow it. Anything to help Aang.”, you speak as calmly as you can. Not sparing a glance, “You already made your choices- you already let me go so just-”

“I don’t want to let you go though- I never wanted to. I just- I thought I was right. I thought that.. you’d come home. I thought that that was still home. I was wrong. I was so wrong-”

“Yet you still stayed, huh?”, you say, bitterly now, “You had a little life out there- you had your glory. Had the nation at your feet. The crown prince who slayed the-”

“I’m not that person! I never was!”

“You seemed to think you were! You acted the part! You were there for well over a month!”, you looked at him now, eyes burning, “You weren’t sorry enough to come back earlier! You didn’t think enough- you didn’t care enough! You were gone for three years! You never replied- I lost my Father! I lost what I thought was home and you weren’t there! I find you in Ba Sing Se- acting like no time had passed! Like we never grew apart! You talk to me like you still knew me, like you still cared! Yet you still chose to do what you did!”

He’d shrunk back a bit, shocked at the bass in your voice- how heavily it weighed on him. He didn’t know you felt all that. He had no idea..

“Your Father-?”

“Don’t.”, you hiss, quieting down, now aware you might have stirred the others from their sleep, “Don’t even. Don’t come to me with any apologies unless you really mean it- unless you’re ready to tell all you have to tell. I’m done with secrets and lies. Good night.”

You walk off now, leaving him to stand by the dying fire. His hand feels cold- his chest aches- your Father? That man he’d seen love you so happily- the home that was worn down but well loved? Gone? How had you suffered so without him even knowing- what had happened to you in his absence?

Why hadn’t he even thought of it?

How did he manage to screw up a screw up?

Zuko groaned to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose, “...what would Uncle have me do- what’s right..”

How to salvage this mess?

“Mʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ ɪs ᴀ sʜɪᴘᴡʀᴇᴄᴋs ғʟᴏᴏʀ..”

Pt.3

[junipedia]

OK SO HERES THE FIRST 2 CHAPTERS I KNOW THEYRE NOT GREAT BUT ITS FINE

Hunting season

Dull. This day feels dull. I mean that’s how Oregon weather usually is, grey thick clouds layered over the sky like a weighted blanket threatening to fall with water at any moment. Heavy underbrush making the already crowded  woods feel even more claustrophobic. Sneakers seeming to sink further into the wet moss with every step like the woods itself was trying to reclaim you. The snap of a twin you'd hear every once and awhile filling your imagination with every reason besides a rational one as to what it could have been. As unsettling as the woods here are, they bring a sense of comfort and peace like even if something was watching you out there it had no fowl intent with you. Night on the other hand was when those vicious creators came out to prowl. Those snaps of trees turning into something that could be hunting you, chasing you. The paths you thought you knew so well turning into a maze of inkyblack darkness that's reaching out for you…

   

    The snapping sound was louder today than it usually was. My face pointed towards the tops of the dying trees, half expecting to see something looking back at me but just being met with a flock of geese flying overhead. The snapping started up suddenly, whipping my face back down to eye level trying to see through the thick ferns and weeds. It sounded like a bulldozer headed straight for me. “Oh my fucking god, Athena” i let out the heaviest sigh of relife once I saw the fluffy tail zig-zagging around. I stood upright and rubbed my face, someone must have let her out after I had already left. The only way back to the house was the way I had come. Which was a steep forgotten road that always seemed to stay a bit to be taken care of for being abandoned. Athena rushed past me hitting the breaks when she got to the bottom of the hill. She stopped though her always wagging tail stopping and dropping in between her legs. I stopped. She only ever did that if she was scared or was seeing something she didn't like. I just stood and watched her. If there truly was a threat there she would let me know, show some sign that the area was suddenly dangerous. it couldn't have been a person because if that was the case she would have started barking. In less than a minute her tail was back up and she was trotting away like she was only seconds ago.

   

“That's a big dog” perched between the underbrush a person sat hunched over making intense eye contact with the canine. He dealt with big dogs but he'd usually know about them beforehand. Well, it wasn't like he DIDN'T know about Athena. He'd been out here watching this family for a while now. He didn't have any tv or media so he liked watching the family's he was camped near for however long he was staying. He'd been in these woods for a while playing cat and mouse with the hunting dogs that the people on this hill owned. Watching this family was the only source of entertainment. He thought it was funny how they argued almost exactly how his family would have, the only reason it was different was that instead of these parents holding it against each other they would sweep it under the carpet only to let it bubble over and resurface in later conversations. The oldest was the most fun to watch. Seeing how each day she drove herself into the ground trying to be the best for everyone just to let them down like she had feared. He thought her name was ironic because it held so much truth, she was just a scared little bunny adopted by wolves trying to also just be a wolf. He stared back at the dog waiting for it to do something. He'd actually grown fond of the pooch so it brought a sliver of warmth when she didn't bark or snarl at him.

    “Athena!” I walked to join her, giving her a scratch behind the ears. She wasn't acting strange anymore meaning whatever had spooked her must have left before i could see it.

Walking away I popped my knuckles against the opposing hand.

           

Pop crackle snap

I stopped, those were cracking joints but. Not my joints. I turned back in the direction id came from. Athena was already long gone from the house so if something was there I'd have to see for myself. I raised my hand up near my face pressing down on one of my fingers until it let out a loud pop. I waited but sure enough a louder crack came from in front of me somewhere. Hesitantly taking steps forward i'd let out a pop only for it to be followed by a louder more aggressive one. I crouched down thinking it could have been in the trees. I brought my hand to my chin and turned it, letting out a chorus of snaps. 

Silence. A slow breath escaped me from relief that is until a grotesque song of crunches and bones grinding together. I turn my heaad my eyes meeting with wide crazed one frantically trying to focus on me but the spastic movemts of its shoulders and neck making it hard to look at one thing. I couldn't even make a noise, i knew there was a homeless camp near my house but i had never actually seen any of them. It grabbed my shoulders so tight it was painful. My back hitting the ground causing the air to slip out of my lungs. Its shoulders were still rapidly moving as it pressed its hand around its jaw covering my mouth. My hands shot up and tried to push at its face and chest. I didn't know what to do. It was on me weighing me to the ground. The hoodie it had on covering its body type hiding how strong it could really be. There was nothing i could do, it was obviously stronger than me. 

Something must have switched in my brain to say “move idiot if you don't you'll probably die in these woods” I opened my mouth as wide as i could, biting down on the top of its hand. Blood seeping into my teeth and gums. The strong taste of iron filled my mouth as I heard the crunch of the bone I had hit. A mixture of saliva and blood pooling out of my mouth all around and down my chin. It didn't move, didn't even flinch.

   

               

Bears trap

He panicked. What else was he going to do, his tics had ever reacted that badly before to someone else's. He held her down, his hand almost covered half her face. He tried to tilt his head to look at her but it just came off as more jerks and pulls from his muscles`just like a bunny” he thought, if he moved his hand just right it could break her in just an instinct. Just like that she’d be gone. His thoughts were interrupted by the crunching of his hand. He watched her try and basically chew her way away from him. “The bunni thinks she's a wolf now” he watched her for a second again before taking his other hand and picking up a good sized rock.

    “This is it” I watched him raise the rock, tightly closing my eyes. The only thing I felt was an extreme headache before I just went numb and limp.

      “Why is it so cold” was my first thought when I started coming again. Sitting up the familiar sound of a tent zipper opening caught my attention. I tried to sit up and  got trapped in the thin sleeping bag I had been in.This was the first time I had seen him at least somewhat up right. He was at least a foot taller than me, leaning into the tent like he was the one cautious of me. He crawled into the tent looking at me, his eyes not as crazed as before but still holding a feeling that at any moment this bomb could go off. He didn't speak as he inched closer and closer. He then reached his hand out. His finger shook as I leaned back but was trapped by the tent. A hot pain running through my back as he touched my forehead where the rock must have hit me. The mask covering his mouth hid what emotion he was truly portraying at the moment. The hand he touched my head with was bandaged, reminding me of the bite I had given him. I raised my hand and wiped my mouth, sticky red blood still coming off meaning that it really hadn't been all that long since all that had happened but just long enough to get dark and colder outside. I opened my mouth but didn't even get a chance to speak before he beat me to it “just dont just dont yell” it took me back to hear him. 

This obviously isn't an adult just by the voice. His voice was raspy and almost menacing.  Even if he was my age he was still just a kid. We didn't say anything for a while, just analyzing each other like it was a mutual agreement that we would let each other realize what was actually happening before doing anything rash. Yeah, he may have basically kidnapped me but that didn't mean I had to be a dick to him. I don't know how long we stared at each other, it could have been hours or only minutes but after that he crawled further into the tent and simply laid down. Almost like he was just watching me to see if i would do anything to try and leave or get away from him. The only thing keeping the tent illuminated was a small battery operated lantern that was barely bright enough to light up the small tent. He sat up again and looked at me just to turn the lanter off. I could hear him shifting around, maybe to take his mask off. We just laid in silence for what felt like forever. “Aren't you cold” even though I was staying quiet it sounded like I was yelling in the small tent. There was no answer for a moment just the sound of him moving around again. I thought maybe he was asleep before I heard a deep inhale. “no” there was a long silence again before he spoke ”are y-you cold cold?” i hesitated before answering “yeah….i guess i am pretty cold”.

   

 Again there was silence before he moved. I felt him come closer to me before feeling one of his arms touch me. This wasn't right. Not even twelve hours ago he had been the one to bash me over the head with a rock to take me to whatever kinda temporary camp this was. He must have read the room because he stopped and waited. I really took a moment to think about what was happening. Everything was happening way too fast but at the same time the little I've seen of him has shown me that even if he is my age he's clearly unstable. If I didn't let him do what he wanted he could blow at any moment and I really don't know what he's capable of.

He waited for another moment before moving towards me again. He stiffly wrapped his arms around me, even though it was awkward and uncomfortable the warmth he gave off was a nice change from the harsh forest cold.my mind must have just fallen unconscious at some point because the next thing i knew the tent was lit with the dull sunlight that was managing to come through the overlay of clouds. He wasn't next to me anymore but the smell of smoke burned my nose as I could hear the sound of fire crackling and snapping outside the tent.I slowly unzipped the front and peaked out. He was sitting with his back to the tent facing the homemade fire pit that he had made.

   

Toby hated the fire. He hated all the pain that it has caused him but it was something that he simply couldn't avoid. One of the things he liked about the fire now was that he could tame it, control when it grew and when it withered away. He looked down at his bandaged hand. He hadn't slept last night, he was too nervous to make even the slightest movement just in case it would wake her. The warmth she had given off was...new. “Why did you let me hold you?” he spoke down into his hands, the zipper making him turn around to face her.

   

They both froze like deer in the headlights again.

No mask. He wasn't wearing his mask right now. He looked so normal. He just stared at me for a while and I stared back at him.  Him turning back towards the fire was enough for me to snap back out of it. He poked the fire with a stick, moving a few blackened sticks around to stir up the fire causing embers to rise up into the early overcasted sky. I scurried around him and sat on the opposite side of the fire, watching him through the flames. His eyes shot up at mine like he suddenly felt my eyes on him. His stare was so intense i wouldn't say lifeless no, there was something buried deep behind those eyes doing something to him. I looked back down into the fire, what was there to talk about? Did he even want to talk? I just want to go home.

“Were you cold l-last last night?” I looked at him furrowing my eyebrows together. ‘This man bashes me in the head with a rock but is worried I was too cold?’ I shifted my weight, pulling my legs closer to myself. “I was fine.” There was a long silence after that before either of us even thought to move. He was the first one to move, getting up and grabbing something from the tent. “Where are you going?” he actually seemed shocked that I asked “getting more fire-wood” the moment he said that my eyes snapped back towards the fire. This could be my chance to run.

[redhoodieone]

It’s Cold in Here Part 11

Hey everyone! YES, I am BACK!!! I’m sorry for not being regularly active on here. I’ve just been going through a lot lately, and it’s been a real struggle. I’m just trying to stay focused on writing because that is my main medicine. And I’m the kinda person who hates leaving things incomplete so…I have to see this through, and I will complete it. Hope you like it and please review!

My eyes shoot open fast like a gunshot. My body freezes, as I try to grasp what happened. I can feel I’m lying on soft sheets. The smell of green tea mint and vanilla fills my nostrils; I quickly find comfort in those scents that remind me I’m back home.

Home.

Home with Dick Grayson.

A sudden wave of panic sends me into another nervous breakdown. My body tenses, and I feel like I can’t breathe, especially when two strong, muscular arms wrap around me like a koala hugs a tree.

And Dick Grayson hugs like a koala bear in and out of the sheets.

I need to get out of here. I need to breathe. I need to think.

Slowly but cautiously, I slip away from Dick’s sleeping embrace. The second I successfully break away from his cuddling hold, I stand up to only look down at his peaceful slumber.

I quickly peek at the clock on his nightstand that tells me it’s only 4:00 A.M.

And to think it was only four hours ago that Dick choked me, screamed at me, and threatened me to do what he wants.

I move like a zombie to the bathroom. Closing and locking the door, I switch on the light and I’m forced to stare at myself in the mirror.

Red rimmed eyes. Tear stained cheeks. A large handprint bruised on my neck. Knots in my hair from being manhandled into bed with him.

I wanted to leave. I wanted to go home and cry myself to sleep like anyone else would. But Dick refused to let me leave. He knew I would have tried to contact the Batfamily for help.

And I would have. I’m not even gonna lie.

Grabbing tightly on both ends of the beautiful, marble sink, I stare at my reflection. What the fuck happened to me?

I’m staring at a weak, pathetic, and foolish woman. I should be ashamed to even call myself a superhero.

A superhero would have taken down Deathstroke already.

A superhero would have helped Dick Grayson from going down this devastating road already.

A superhero wouldn’t be standing here and staring at their wounds in the mirror, while their boyfriend is out there with Isabel.

Jason.

I know Jason’s not my boyfriend. I know what we have isn’t even remotely romantic. What we have can only be summarized as “causal sex between good friends”, and that’s all there is to it.

Not that any of that matters anymore.

I’m beyond fucked. Dick Grayson literally took my heart, my self-esteem, and my life away from me.

I have nothing.

Dick made sure my cell phone was destroyed before he shoved me into bed.

The alarm system in his penthouse is set, and there’s no way to enter or escape.

And Dick had stripped me from my costume and weapons.

My own worst enemy has taken everything from me.

And he doesn’t even know it’s him.

Gripping the sink tighter to where my hands crack and ache, I growl under my breath and release my right fist into the mirror, shattering it gracefully with rage.

Pieces of glass rain all around me. It’s almost happening in slow motion when I realize I’ve been bottling up everything inside me. I see there is another part inside me that’s tired of being controlled.

A part of me that’s tired of being threatened with fear.

A part of me that’s tired of letting feelings interfere with what’s right and wrong.

My fist falls to the sink where my blood runs down my palm and fingers. I can imagine it hurting because I know there are razor chips in there from the impact.

But I feel nothing but rage inside me. A sinking feeling of anger and vengeance in the pit of my stomach to where I’ll do whatever it takes to feed it.

I gaze up to the broken mirror and see the missing fragments I’ve smashed. My reflection is damaged, in the emotional and physical sense.

And destroyed by what I’ve done.

I hear light footsteps coming behind me. Still staring in the mirror, the remaining chipped pieces of the mirror shows me Dick is behind me, staring into the mirror as well.

Our faces are split up in bits on the wall. And it doesn’t take more than a few seconds to see that his eyes darken with resentment and lust.

Both of Dick’s hands settle on my bare hips. I’m only wearing a t-shirt of his that he gave me while he ripped and tore apart my costume and underwear.

His fingers slip up to my stomach and continue to inch upwards until he seizes my breasts. Until his hands completely cover and grasp my tits, his fingers massage them tightly.

I struggle to pull away from his touch, but Dick ends up pushing me forward to the sink. I can feel his hard body grinding against my bare ass. Through his sweatpants, his big, hard cock rubs against me.

I gasp quietly. I chance a look in the mirror and see his lust filled eyes staring down at me.

“I love seeing you wear my shirt,” Dick whispers in my ear. He pulls my nipples and pinches them. “It’s almost like...I own you. Like, you’re my own personal doll. A possession of mine.”

One of his hands sneaks down to my unclothed pussy. His fingers spread my folds apart, and he sinks one finger in. My natural wetness makes a slurping noise; I’m always embarrassingly wet, and Dick knows this. He hums in my ear. He’s more than pleased about this.

“So wet...you’re just so wet for me, huh Y/N?” Dick smirks. He adds another finger inside me and begins to finger fuck me.

“I-I’m not yours, Dick,” I seethe through my teeth. I whimper when his thumb rubs my clit. The fucking bastard knows I love finger fucking before sex.

His thumb presses harder to my clit. I’m a panting mess in between his arms. I look up into the mirror and see Dick’s eyebrows furrowed; a look of concentration and determination are on his face. He begins to breathe and pant hard as if he wants (or is trying) to ride out my orgasm with me. I suddenly feel a tightening feeling in my stomach, so I grab a hold of his forearms to squeeze and try to ground myself with.

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, sweetheart. You see, there are no other guys here. I’m the only one here with you. So, let me explain this in a way you’ll understand. I AM THE ONE WHO’S GONNA MAKE YOU CUM RIGHT NOW!” Dick growls and adds a third finger in me.

“No...” I plead.

“Yes! Cum for me, Y/N. I want you to cum so hard for me. Cum for your boyfriend.”

He pumps his fingers hard and fast in my pussy. His thumb continues to work overtime with constant harsh rubs. Dick kisses my neck and nips my jaw and that’s what sets my body to release my orgasm. My mouth parts and I choke out Dick’s name as my pussy clenches his fingers, and I gush hard on his hand.

“That’s it. That’s it. Good girl. You’re such a good girl for me,” Dick praises me, and places many kisses my jawline. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you, Y/N?”

“Oh fuck...” I whimper out. I feel beyond embarrassed Dick could still weaken me like this, especially after everything that’s happened.

Once my body relaxes, I let go of his forearms, one stained with my bloody hand from earlier, and try to stand on my own. Dick withdraws his hand from my pussy and licks every individual finger to suck my juices. He hums in satisfaction and winks at me.

“Delicious...better than Trix cereal if I say so myself.”

I huff out in annoyance. I turn around to face his cocky grin.

“That...that wasn’t cool, Dick. What you-you just did to me...that was fucking evil,” I say angrily. I feel tears behind my eyes that are threatening to fall. “How could you do that to me? How could you use my feelings, my body, and me like that?”

Dick’s eyes show no softness and kindness like before. I realize I haven’t truly seen his real eyes in a long time.

“It’s easy,” Dick says simply. As if it’s plainly obvious and that I should know that.

I shake my head at him. Biting my bottom lip, I glare at him.

“You will never touch me like that again. If you ever lay a hand on me like that again, I’ll fucking snap your arm,” I threaten him. I feel the anger boiling in me, but my voice betrays me.

I sound as if I got fucked hard like a defendant in court.

Dick chuckles at me. He runs a hand through his hair and grins at me as if he just won a big prize in an arcade.

“Who are you trying to convince: me or you?”

I pull down his shirt to cover my wet thighs and take a big step away from him.

But he follows me like puppy.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, Y/N. I know you. I know you better than you know yourself. I know you better than Bruce, and he’s the best detective in the world,” Dick explains as he continues stepping closer to me. With each step, his eyes darken and there’s no hope or light in him. Just complete darkness and rage. “You still love me. You may not be in love with me anymore, but those feelings and devotion for me still exist.”

I shake my head in desperation. “No. No, I don’t, Dick!”

Dick laughs hysterically. He waves his arms around and gives me an incredulous look.

“I mean, look at you, Y/N! After I threatened you and hurt you, you’re still here! You could have fought me. You could have escaped. You could have called for help. But you didn’t. You didn’t do any of that. Wanna know why? Because you still love me, and you’re gonna do anything and everything to help me...no matter what I say or do to you,” Dick elucidates madly.

I feel as if a wire was cut in my head. A crazed thought comes to me like a sign. Escape.

I can escape and call for help!

I’m strong enough to fight back. I’ve proven myself from time to time in this family. I’m a great fighter, and I can do anything.

Anything.

I quickly catch a glimpse of a big shard from the mirror on the floor. I’ve got one chance. One chance and I’m gonna take it.

“Go fuck yourself, Dick!” I shout and kick up the shard so I can quickly catch it. Once it’s in my hand, I harshly cut Dick’s cheek down to his chest, not even to make him bleed out though.

“FUCK!!!” Dick hisses out and touches his bleeding wounds. He reluctantly falls to his knees to press his cuts.

Dropping the sharp glass, I dash out of the bathroom. Seeing Dick’s cell phone on his nightstand, I swipe it and kick a chair against the window to break out.

Alarms sound. I jump out of his window and land on the fire escape. Climbing up to the rooftop, I hear Dick catching up to me.

“Y/N! Come on, baby! I’m sorry! You know I love you!” Dick yells.

I growl faintly and finally land on the rooftop. Backing away carefully, I notice a 4-way lug wrench beside me. Picking it up and holding it as a weapon, I prepare myself when Dick flawlessly lands on the rooftop, like the acrobat he was born and raised to be.

I feel my heart sink in my stomach.

“Don’t come any closer, Dick. You need to back the fuck off,” I demand.

Dick grins cockily when he sees the car tool I have. His face and bare chest are still bleeding. He tilts his head to the side. “So, you’ve got a weapon, and you’ve got my phone. What’s your next move, Y/N? Are you gonna call for help? Are you gonna call Jason?” he taunts me viciously.

Still holding the weapon tightly, I quickly unlock Dick’s phone (password has always been my birthday, though I am quite surprised it hasn’t been changed to Wally’s) and I immediately call Jason.

“So, you ARE calling Jason? Well...I hate to tell you, sweetheart, but you’ve just made a big mistake.”

I ignore Dick and wait for Jason to answer. After the 4th ring, he answers.

“Do you have any idea what time it is, Dickface?! I’m tryin’ to fuckin’ sleep!” Jason snaps angrily.

“J-Jason?” I squeak out nervously.

“Yeah, and who the fuck is this? Why are you using my idiot brother’s phone?!”

I frown and exhale hard. “It’s me. It’s Y/N, Jason. Y/N Y/LN. You know...Y/S/N? I’m in the Batfamily with you and Dick! I-I’m even Dick’s girlfriend!” I cry out desperately. “You HAVE to remember me, please!”

Jason pauses on the phone. I begin to breathe hard and my tears fall against my will. My chest hurts so bad.

“I don’t know any Y/N or Y/S/N. So, do us both a favor and give my dickwad brother his phone back, or I’m gonna find you and shove that phone so far up your ass that you’ll be answering phone calls from collectors until you die!” Jason threatens savagely.

  “Jason, please...you have to remember me. I-I don’t know what to do and how to fix this. I need you. I need your help,” I cry harder. Choking back on tears and gasping for air, I don’t realize I lower the car tool to the ground. “I... I’m sorry, Jason. For the way I treated you. For the way I lied and wasn’t completely honest with you. But I need you now more than ever. Please...please help me.”

There’s another pause on the phone. I hold my breath and stare at Dick with wide eyes and an open mouth, until I hear her.

Isabel.

“Jason, who’s on the phone? It’s late. Come back to bed. I’m cold and I need you,” Isabel says loud enough for me to hear her.

“I’ll be back in just a second, cupcake,” Jason kindly calls out.

I bite my bottom lip hard to where I know it’ll bleed.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know you. I can’t...remember you. And I’m sorry about that,” Jason says quietly into the phone.

It’s as if my heart stops. My hand releases the phone and it falls to the ground without a sound. My world is suddenly silent, dark, and numb.

Just like Dick wanted.

He approaches me quietly and he puts two hands on my shoulders to get my attention.

“Oh, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N... I tried to warn you not to do that. But you had to learn the hard way, huh, baby? You know, you’re not the only one with lies and secrets. You wanna hear one right now?” Dick asks as he pulls my body closer to his. “I didn’t offer Isabel money. I didn’t have Raven brainwash her. No. No, I did something far worse than that.”

I hear Dick speaking, but there’s no willpower or urge to do anything but listen.

“Mad Hatter.”

 My heart races at the thought of Mad Hatter torturing and brainwashing Jason to believe and do whatever Dick tells him to.

“I had Mad Hatter assist me into making Jason not have any free will. So, now...Jason is exactly who he should be. A human without a brain. The perfect example for a perfect soldier,” Dick continues to explain.

I want to scream at Dick.

I want to fight Dick.

I want to cry.

I want to escape.

But no... I stay where I am because I can’t move. I failed.

 I failed Jason.

I failed the Batfamily.

I failed my friends, the league, and Wally.

I failed myself.

And worse of all, I failed Dick.

“Just face it, Y/N. I don’t have Wally, and I’m doing fine without him because I don’t need him. You don’t need Jason either. But all we need is each other, and we’ll be perfect,” Dick says proudly and squeezes my shoulders comfortably. “It’s just you and me. Two broken souls who only have each other. And we’re gonna be fine. I promise you that, baby.”

I want to argue.

I want to cry for help.

I want to sew myself shut from the world.

But I don’t.

Because I can’t.

“Now, get down on those pretty knees because you still owe me, baby,” Dick demands and pulls down his sweatpants and boxers in one go. He pulls out his hardened length and strokes himself while looking at me. “Drop down on those knees, sweetheart.”

I fall to my knees as I’m told to do. They hurt from the harsh impact, but it doesn’t last too long since everything in me and around me is nothing.

Empty.

Numbness.

I feel absolutely nothing.

Sitting up on my knees, Dick brings his hard cock to my lips. I look up at him and see he’s just as numb as I am, except he’s blinded by anger and hostility.

And I’m blinded by despair and defeat.

Dick wraps a handful of my hair in a tight grip. I wet my lips before I lick up his precum, making Dick moan and tremble violently. He forces my head back to make eye contact with me.

“Suck me good, sweetheart,” Dick breathes out hard. He snarls before he gets a tighter grip on my hair. “Show me how much you hate me, and I’ll show you how much I hate you.”

And then I suck Dick’s cock roughly and harshly, just like he did to me in the bathroom earlier.

But neither of us realized that Dick’s cell phone was still on.

The phone call with Jason never ended.

[imnobodyuknow]

Okay, so...  I’d like to do something a little different tonight and talk about a game that I actually have an overall negative opinion about.  I’m admittedly a pretty picky gamer, so there are a lot of games that fall into my “no thanks” category, but sometimes you just have to share your feelings on one of them.  That’s just the life of a professional game critic (or a professional game critic wannabe, in my case), so here goes...

The game in question was apparently inspired by Ace Attorney, a favorite series of mine (in case that wasn’t obvious by now), and has found a good amount of popularity among visual novel fans.  I hadn’t planned on exploring it myself until a couple of my friends recommended it, so I decided to watch a playthrough of it on YouTube.  What I found was...quite the bizarre experience, I have to say.

Simply put, it’s a game that centers around the battle between hope and despair, and the struggle shared by 15 youths to hold onto the former while being surrounded by the latter.  I am, of course, referring to Overkill: The Game, also known as...

(Danganronpa Spoilers Ahead)

So, I wasn’t sure what to expect when I ventured into the crosshairs of this game (pun fully intended), but after watching the story of the first Danganronpa game, I’d say the best way to describe it is Ace Attorney on steroids...and drugs.  I’m sure I may have missed out on some parts of the game by not playing it myself, of course, I believe I got the gist of it.

It begins with 15 “ultimate” students starting out at Hope’s Peak Academy, a school that “sends the cream of the crop into the work force every year.”  Unfortunately for them, they soon discover that a different sort of force has been at work behind the scenes, and that a crazed mastermind, hidden behind a robotic bear named Monokuma, has apparently trapped them inside the school, and will only let them leave (or “graduate”) if one of them is able to murder a fellow student and fool everyone into believing they’re innocent.  This makes for one intriguing setup...but then some of them begin actually playing the game.  Needless to say, things get uglier and uglier from there.

The player fills the shoes of Makoto Naegi, the only student there who doesn’t have an “ultimate” talent, but was picked at random and is therefore considered the “Ultimate Lucky Student.”  As the game progresses and students meet unfortunate ends at the hands of their classmates, he ends up playing the role of a makeshift detective, attempting to dismantle a series of clever murder-and-coverup schemes.  So far, this game may sound like a fun (if a little creepy) experience from its description, but watching it was...a bit of a different one for me.

My “ultimate” verdict?

I didn’t hate it enough not to watch it all the way through, and I ended up finding some things I liked about it (and a few that I loved), so please bear stick with me as I describe my experience with it.  With the help of sprites from the game, naturally.

In terms of the pool of violence, language, sexual content, and sadism I was marinated in:

In terms of an overload of suspense for suspense’s sake:

In terms of one shock to the system after another:

In terms of believability:

And in terms of a more confusing than satisfying conclusion to it all:

Whew...  All right, on to the good parts.

In terms of fun and creative mechanics:

In terms of upbeat and engaging music:

In terms of getting me to glare at fictional characters for making a bad (also fictional) situation worse:

In terms of Aoi Asahina:

Not gonna lie, she brought the game’s likeability up by at least 25% for me.

And finally, in terms of making it a challenge to hold onto hope until the bitter end:

Also, it’s kinda hard for me to completely hate a game with a line like this in it:

She’s probably right, y’know.

So, overall, I found a lot to enjoy about this game, but sadly, I felt that the generous amount of NSFW content and outright sadism diminished its potential audience and made the good stuff harder to enjoy.

The investigation and class trial’s mechanics were interesting, BUT hard to feel good about when you’re just playing a psychopath’s game.

The characters were fun and relatable, BUT you have to see most of them either die or become “blackened”...and also die.

Monokuma was cute at times, BUT there wasn’t much else to like about him.  I know he was basically designed to be hated, but the writers pushed it WAY too far in my mind.

My “ultimate” point here being, creative freedom is a wonderful thing, but creative limits are important, too.  This game serves as a perfect example of how creative freedom is overrated in video games (and other media), whereas limits are underrated.  I hope I’m not alone in that assessment.

Anyway, just so we can leave this on a positive...ish note, here’s a Danganronpa meme:

[ve1vetyoongi]

Operation: Love Letters | 04

💌 CHAPTER INDEX 💌

♡ ⇢ pairing: ot7 x reader.

♡ ⇢ chapter word count: 7k

♡ ⇢ genre: mystery, college!au, romance, fluff, eventual smut.

♡ ⇢ warnings/rating: none, PG

♡ ⇢ summary: When every student on campus is going crazy about a survey that claims to make true love bloom, your best friend manages to convince you to join in on the fun — except you’re disappointed to find out that your results just seem to be lost causes. That is until a love letter from a mysterious secret admirer turns up and you find yourself on a mission to find the person behind the pen — but you quickly realise it’s going to be a lot harder than you initially thought when you have 7 possible bachelors to investigate, right? Operation: Love Letters a-go!

♡ ⇢ schedule: updated every day at 5pm GMT in the run up to Valentine’s Day 2020!

"I'm having second thoughts about this." You whine as Jimin fishes around in his leather waist bag for a pen so he can scribble your names down under KISSERS on the fundraiser sign up sheet. "What if my admirer doesn't even turn up? Or worse, what someone kisses me and I get sick and then I die before I can uncover their identity?"

Jimin just rolls his eyes, already finished dotting the I's in his name with tiny hearts before he slips his arm through yours and drops his head on to your shoulder as you walk across campus.

"Taehyung got totally suspicious when he found out you were signing up for the kissing booth. So, he knows you're gonna be here. What's stopping him from coming?"

"We don't know if he is my admirer yet." You point out. "Their name was ripped off, remember?"

"Well why else would he have had that letter in his backpack? It doesn't take much to read between the lines. Don't deep it too much. Besides, I've already started an intense lip treatment so I'm ready for the big day!" He smacks his lips with a wink and you can't help but scoff.

"Hey! You're supposed to be focused on finding my admirer not making out with every student on campus!"

"What? A guy can't even have some fun around here anymore?" Jimin tugs on his satchel with a dreamy look in his eyes. "Besides, who knows? Maybe I'll find an admirer of my own!"

"I just wish the note hadn't been ripped right where my admirer wrote his name." You sigh. "That would've made this whole thing a lot easier."

"Sure, but in a way it's a good sign. The fact that he signed his name at all suggests that he wants to be found, so I'll bet he's gonna turn up at the kissing booth for real."

You shake your head, already nervous. "You better be right."

Jimin just sends you a wink. "When am I ever wrong?"

"Okay, I was wrong." Jimin murmurs, nerves evident in his tone as you elbow your way to the front of the crowd that has formed outside the gym. "Maybe this was a bad idea."

The kissing booth is a small wooden shack set up in the middle of the gymnasium, surrounded by red foil balloons in the shape of hearts and jars of pink jellybeans and bouquets of chocolate covered strawberries. The air is fragrant with the red roses that are scattered by the dozen along the path leading up to none other than Kim Seokjin, who stands on a stepladder as he adds the finishing touches to a sign labelled with prices in chalk, from 5 cents for a kiss on the cheek to 5 dollars for a make-out.

When he sees you emerging from the crowd his face breaks out into a beaming grin and he rushes over to pull you both into a bear hug. "I knew I could count on you two to come along! The other kisser's pulled out last minute, so you guys are gonna have to work extra hard today!"

"What?" Jimin exclaims. "The two of us have to kiss all of these people?"

Before Seokjin can open his mouth to let out a reassuring excuse, a familiar head of blonde hair stuffed messily beneath a baseball cap rounds the corner.

"Dude, Taehyung popped another one of the balloons, d'ya got any spares..." Yoongi calls, before stopping like a dead weight when he sees you standing there. He offers you a confused but friendly wave. "Oh hey, Y/N."

"Yoongi? What are you doing here?"

"Seokjin paid me twenty dollars to man the tip jar." He explains, opening a nearby pot and pouring a handful of pink bubblegum into his mouth despite the distasteful look Seokjin sends him. Yoongi just shrugs and slumps down onto the stool behind the booth, flashing Seokjin a look of his own. "He didn't mention that slave labour would be involved, though."

"Yoongi? Did you get more balloons—"

None other than Taehyung skips around the corner holding a bunch of pink balloons, stumbling gracelessly like a crazed, blue haired bowling ball into your form in his haste.

"Taehyung, too? What are you doing here?" Jimin narrows his eyes, and nudges you in the ribs with a knowing wink. Way to not be suspicious, you think. "Are you here to perhaps...kiss a special someone?"

"Me? No! Uh...just...helping!" Taehyung stammers, avoiding Jimin's gaze like the plague while jumping foot to foot nervously and managing to somehow pop one of the balloons in his grip which falls to the ground limply. He flashes you a sheepish smile. "See, helping..."

"He's definitely being sketchy." Jimin whispers in your ear as Yoongi rolls his eyes and ties the balloons to the booth where Taehyung can't accidentally destroy any more of them. "Look at how much he's sweating!"

"I think the real question is, why are you guys here?" Yoongi nods towards the coordinating pink jumpsuits Jimin has convinced you to wear because they were Valentine's appropriate. "Didn't think you did a lot of charity work."

"I like charity work!" You insist, though Yoongi just raises an eyebrow unconvinced, nodding his head when your true motive slips out. "But truth is I'm trying to find my secret admirer. It's just I didn't think there would be so many people..."

Yoongi follows your gaze out over the line of people waiting to get a kiss from the booth, face after indistinguishable face buzzing with excitement until they disappear around the corner, probably getting longer as the minutes ticked by.

"How do you even know if the guy is here or not?" Yoongi points out. "This could be a waste of time."

"I don't know." You shrug. "I guess I'll know when I see them?"

"How?" Taehyung suddenly interjects. All eyes fall on him and he turns sheepish, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I mean how do you know if someone is in love with you just by looking at them? Can you tell?"

Jimin fishes for his phone, pulling up a website and holding it out to Taehyung and Yoongi who read through it curiously. "I looked online and apparently there's, like, a ton of body language cues to tell if someone's in love with you. Like if they touch you a lot, or their pupils get bigger when they look at you, or they save you from harms way—"

"So Y/N should just throw herself in front of a car and see if her knight in shining armour shows up to save her?" Yoongi scoffs, handing Jimin his phone back with an amused shake of his head.

"Uh, actually...about that." Seokjin pops up from behind the booth, two slips of pink silk dangling from his fingertips. He holds it up to his eyes, obscuring his vision in demonstration. "You two won't be seeing a single thing."

"What?!" You exclaim. "Seokjin, this was your idea! Why didn't you tell me we would be blindfolded before I signed up?"

"Because you know as well as me that you wouldn't have come if I told you and I needed someone actually hot to sign up for this thing if I wanted to raise our goal amount." You cross your arms and blow a piece of hair out of your face in frustration. Seokjin throws up his hands in defence. "Hey, don't look at me like that! You're our moneymaker, Y/N!"

"That's not the point! How am I supposed to find my secret admirer if I can't even see them?"

"It's okay," Jimin clamps a hand on your shoulder and turns you to face him. "If your secret admirer is here, you'll know it as soon as they kiss you." He looks off into the distance, eyes glassy as he leans in closer and drops his voice to a dreamy whisper. "It'll feel like fireworks!"

You punch him in the shoulder. "Dude, I know you're a hopeless romantic but I don't think that's how real life works."

"I think it's kinda sweet." Taehyung calls from the step ladder, stood on the top step on his tiptoes attempting to nail a sign to the wall, though his focus seems to be on Jimin as he muses over his words, seemingly to engaged to notice how he wobbled back and forth. "Hey, Yoongi are you sure you're holding the ladder steady—"

Before you know it, Taehyung is losing his footing and crashing to the ground, metal sign in tow. Your reaction time is slow and if it weren't for Yoongi who throws his body around yours and pulls you to safety, you'd be laying in a pile of crushed limbs beneath Taehyung who mumbles in pain and rubs his butt on the floor beside you.

"Woah!" Yoongi exclaims, eyes wide as they look you over to see if you're hurt. "You okay?"

"Uh...yeah." He lets out a sigh of relief, awkwardly letting you go and taking a couple steps backwards when you glance down at where his hand grips yours tightly, like he's still scared to let go. "Thanks. You really saved me, there."

That was weird, you think when Yoongi just grumbles something about it being nothing or whatever and bows his head to cover the way his cheeks burn, but Seokjin swoops in your save you before you have a chance to ask him what was up.

"Hey guys? The people are getting restless so we better get back to work and stat." Seokjin clamps one hand onto your shoulder, the other onto Jimin's, and starts to steer you towards a pile of unwrapped candies that need to be sorted by colour. "Oh, Yoongi? Could you hang that sign back up while these two get ready?"

Yoongi sends a half-assed eye roll at Seokjin as he drags himself over to the sign, and you just about get a glimpse of the scrawl on the front.

PUCKER UP FOR YOUR CHANCE TO WIN THE GRAND PRIZE!

You turn to Seokjin. "Grand prize? What's that?"

"Everyone who buys a ticket gets entered into a raffle for the grand prize. A kiss on the lips with the kisser of their choice! They say that if you kiss for at least 7 seconds you fall in love!" He sees your eyes widen, patting your back reassuringly and gesturing towards the crowd. "Why else do you think we had such a good turn out?"

"What's the point if they can't even see the person?" Yoongi grumbles, taking the pencil balanced behind his ear and scribbling a mark for the nail on the wall. "Seems kinda dumb."

"Isn't that the point of a secret admirer?" Seokjin huffs, producing a roll of pink tickets from his pocket and handing one to both Yoongi and Taehyung. "Tell you what, here. Both of you take one of these. On the house for all your hard work."

"Wow. I'm touched." Yoongi slides it into his pocket with a roll of his eyes but Taehyung looks down and the ticket and back up at you and Jimin again in wonder.

"Who knows? Maybe you'll win." Seokjin winks. "Now chop chop you two! Go get ready to pucker up!"

Hours pass and 78 kisses later (yes, you counted) and you still haven't felt the fireworks Jimin said you would when you and your secret admirer locked lips.

"I'm starting to think he's not coming, Jimin." You sigh, feeling around in your blindfolded state for your best friend who is busy applying hundreds of layers of lip balm to his puckered lips. "Maybe Yoongi's right and this whole thing was dumb."

"Don't give up just yet," Jimin responds, pouting his lips and crooning a finger towards the next customer. "We still have the grand prize winners to go!"

As if on cue, Seokjin jumps up onto the main stage and taps a megaphone, the sound quieting down the rumble of chit chat and budding love that lingers in the gym.

"Okay everybody, it's the moment you've all been waiting for! Time to announce the winners of the grand prize!"

The crowd let's out a unanimous cheer and you silently cross your fingers beneath the booth that the power of love was strong enough to make your secret admirer's number the winner.

Seokjin sticks his hand into a jar filled with tiny slips of paper, eyes squeezed shut as he closes his hand around the winning number. You can't see it but you can hear the triumphant grin on his lips at the ripple that runs through the crowd when he produces not one but two pieces of paper from the jar.

"Looks like the universe has spoken, and we're going to be awarding two kisses today! Could number nine and number thirty please make their way to the front of the gym and select their kisser of choice!"

The crowd erupts into applause and you hear a pair of shoes scuffle across the ground towards you, almost hesistant.

"Hey." You feel a person stop a short distance away from you, and you flash them a small smile. "Congrats!"

The person says nothing and you're about to open your mouth to ask them their name when Seokjin interjects.

"Hello? What are you waiting for? Kiss!"

The crowd starts to chant kiss! kiss! kiss! and you're suddenly overcome with nerves. What if this isn't your admirer? But then again, what will you do if it is?

A shiver runs down your spine when you feel a breath ghost across your face, and even though you're blindfolded you find your eyes falling shut in anticipation when a hesitant hand gently cups your chin. The touch is more careful than the others, a thumb rubbing soothing circles into the flushed flesh of the apple of your cheek as you stand on your tip toes to finally connect your lips to the one's hovering inches from your own.

This kiss is different. Slower, languid, careful. A plump bottom lip that slots just perfectly between your own, like it has always belonged there. A heat that sends tingles through your entire body and makes your heart race and your blood run hot as you wrap your arms around the neck of the person and then—

"7 seconds are up, dudes! Time to move along to the next person!"

Within seconds the lips are gone and you reach for them but a hand grabs your wrist and prises your hand open, placing something into your palm and then curling your fingers tightly around it. You're utterly frozen, lips tingling, as he leans in and places a single kiss to your cheek before you feel his warmth disappear all together.

Your hands shake, eyes shooting open as you rip the blindfold away.

Fireworks.

"Jimin!" You exclaim, grabbing him by the elbow and dragging him out from behind the booth much to the groaning disappointment of the growing line of customers. "I felt it. That was him! I'm sure of it!"

Jimin is touching his lips carefully, vision distant as he squeezes his eyes shut and let's out a hazy sigh of satisfaction. "Me too. I felt... fireworks!"

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go find them before they get away!"

You scan the gym with greedy eyes, immediately zoning in on two figures who are pushing their way backwards through the crowd in opposing directions. The dude to your left glances over his shoulder briefly, and you just about catch a glimpse of blue hair poking above the crowd from beneath his hood when he does.

"I'll go left, you go right!" You call to Jimin, who nods and scurries after the other figure who has already been swallowed by the crowd, and you ignore Seokjin's shouts from behind you and break into a run to catch up with your suspect.

Sharp elbows prod your ribs as you bust through the crowd, weaving through bodies that seem to come at you like obstacles whenever you get slightly too close to the boy speed walking away, until you're spat out into an empty hallway and there's no sign of him to be found.

"What the heck? Where did he go?"

The door to the lobby swings shut to your left and you speed up, zeroing in on the sound of a pair of sneakers squeaking against the floor nearby. You gain speed, launching yourself into the lobby and that's when you see him; hunched over and panting for breath, a flash of a pink ticket glinting from between his fingertips as he grips his side desperately. He lets down his hood to reveal a head of seafoam hair and that's when you're sure. You've found him. Your potential admirer.

Before you can think better of it, you're launching yourself through the air and wrapping your arms around the shoulders of the blue-haired-runaway. He lets out a yell of surprise, briefly struggling before he drops to the ground and you manage to wrangle yourself onto his front, pinning his arms to the ground and smiling triumphantly when you find none other than Kim Taehyung looking up at you fearfully.

"I knew it! It's you!" You punch the air, missing how Taehyung's eyes narrow in confusion. "You're my secret admirer, right?"

"What? No! Your secret admirer is..." He swallows hard, eyes widening like he let something slip that he shouldn't have. "Uh wait! Forget I said that, um I gotta go—"

"Oh hell no," Jimin appears, out of breath, and grabs Taehyung by the collar. "You know something? You're coming with us."

"Uh, sorry again for, you know...tackling you to the ground or whatever." You say as you place a cup of coffee down in front of Taehyung. Jimin has dragged you both to the nearly empty cafeteria to talk so you figured it wouldn't hurt to offer a sorry gift. "I really thought it was you."

"It's fine." Taehyung offers an awkward smile as he rubs the back of his neck, shooting you a set of finger guns. "Better hope I don't sue you if it bruises, though."

There's an awkward silence as you and Jimin just stare at the table, unamused by Taehyung's attempt at lightening the mood, so he takes to sipping his coffee in silence instead. "

"Soooo..." You swirl the straw in your cup of soda meaninglessly, catching the way Taehyung's eyes flit across the cafeteria like he doesn't know where to look. "You said you knew who sent Y/N the love letter?"

Taehyung freezes, head jerking up to stare at you directly, tongue eventually snaking out to wipe away the coffee froth on his upper lip. "I do."

Your fingers tap against the table top impatiently. "So? Who is it?"

"I..." Taehyung bites his lip, sinking back into his seat with his hands curled in his lap in defeat. "I can't tell you."

"What? Why?!" You exclaim. "We're so close and you won't help us?"

"It's not that I don't want to!" Taehyung rushes, hands in the air in surrender. "But I've been sworn to secrecy by your admirer and...I think it's better if he tells you himself."

"And how can we be sure you aren't just lying to cover your own tracks?" Jimin interjects, chin in palm as he looks between the two of you he's been listening carefully this whole time. He narrows his eyes and points right at the blue haired boy opposite who flinches. "Explain how you had this letter that day after the frat party?"

Jimin looks left and right to check the coast is clear before he slides the ripped piece of paper you found in Taehyung's bag across the table.

Taehyung's brows furrow as he studies the note closely, confused, but then he flips the page and his eyes light up like he just put a puzzle piece together."Oh that?" He twists in his seat to rummage around in his backpack, emerging with the missing letter piece.  "Here's the other half."

With a smug grin you rip the note from his hand, quickly lining it up with the letter you had read over and over again for clues, heart thumping as you read the words littering the lines and hope for answers. "A-ha! This is...a grocery list?"

Taehyung shrugs. "I was wondering where that got to. I guess your admirer used my notebook and I forgot to check the back of the page before I ripped it out. Sorry."

So all this time Taehyung was just using the back of the love letter your admirer wrote from his heart to remind him what to buy at the store? The disrespect!

Jimin slides his glasses down his nose, peering over the lenses as he slams his hands down right in front of Taehyung, unconvinced by his story.

"Then how come you were holding a pink ticket and we saw you walking away when we took off our blindfold."

Taehyung chokes on his drink, eyes trained to the table as he fiddles with the rings on his fingers nervously. "Well, I did kiss someone..."

"What?" You and Jimin exclaim in unison.

Taehyung nods. "But it wasn't you, Y/N."

"Then..." Realisation suddenly hits you like a ton of bricks and all eyes land on Jimin who is frozen like a statue, mouth opening and closing in disbelief as Taehyung's confession.

"You kissed...me?" He swallows. "Me?"

"Yeah." Taehyung stammers, finally blinking up through his long lashes at Jimin to gauge his reaction."Is that okay?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah it is." Taehyung's lips curve into an unabashed grin and you can't help but giggle at how red Jimin's cheeks have bloomed, your best friend's eyes filled with hearts as they stare at the blue haired boy opposite him with content disbelief.

So...this development is pretty much confirmation that Taehyung is definitely not your secret admirer. A weight settles in your stomach when it dawns on you that your last lead just came to a dead end, and you are still no closer to uncovering the identity of your secret admirer.

Maybe it's time to give up. All you had left was a pinboard filled with useless clues and now you could place another cross next to Taehyung's name.

But as you look between the two boys hitting it off in front of you, you can't help but smile, somehow glad that at least something good came out of this whole thing. It is the season of love, after all. Even if it wasn't for you.

"Oooookay." You announce, getting to your feet when you zone back in and notice how much closer Jimin has scooted towards Taehyung. "Well, I guess this is my cue to leave you guys to it."

"Wait!" Taehyung grabs your wrist, pinning you in place. "I really do hope you find your admirer. I know I couldn't help much, but have you tried talking to Jeon Jungkook? He programmed the Love Calculator so maybe he can."

"Jeon Jungkook..." Where have you heard that name before...wait!

"Jeon Jungkook!" Jimin exclaims. "That's the last name on your list!"

Huh. Maybe you haven't hit a dead end after all.

[thechekhov]

Good Omens Fic Recs

First of all, I’m gonna say that these are probably not ALL the fics I’d recommend, there are more, but I’m trying to keep it comprehensive. 

Fics listed here are non-explicit in nature, though they might contain sexual-ish elements or allusions to sex being had. 

All fics under the cut contain explicit sexual content.

Pre-Apocalypse:

it’s the light (it’s the obstacle that casts it) (5783/Complete)

It's like having a curtain pulled back on something he wasn't expecting to see. A surprise punch-and-judy at an up-scale restaurant, a lobster thermidor when he's ordered an ale.

Crowley's gleefully trying to wrap his head around the fact that Aziraphale is speaking Polari. Because of course he is.

Or: The Patron Saint of London's LGBT Community is real, and he lives in Soho.

two slow dancers last ones out (1658/Complete)

“Do you even know how to waltz?” “No. But you could teach it to me.”

and, so on (8938/Complete) 

Crowley doesn’t remember heaven, but Aziraphale remembers him. 

notes on a theme (4501/Complete)

After six-thousand odd years playing human, Crowley is beginning to suspect they've both gone a bit native.

Nanny Knows Best (series) (32,800/Kinda Complete?)

Being a nanny, that should be simple. Simple. Easy as pie. Crowley wished that were true. (*Warning: this fic contains various depictions of sexual harassment Nanny Ashtoreth has to deal with.)

Wings and How to Hide Them (10134/Complete)

Crowley's been annoyingly in love for six thousand years. What's another lifetime between friends? (*Warning: this fic contains a mild sex scene but it’s not overly explicit, so I’m letting it split through)

When in Rome (series) (3938/Complete)

"And have you?" Aziraphale asked. "Anywhere to be, that is?"

"I don't suppose I do," Crowley said. "Would you like to go to dinner?"

"With a demon?" Aziraphale replied, tipping his head a little, his smile still hiding in his eyes. "I probably shouldn't."

names in history (23468/Complete)

Maybe he’d shown Crowley how to perform a few miracles, but that Crowley had taken to them so well was surely a sign that he wasn’t all bad. And maybe Aziraphale had let himself be called upon to perform a few temptations, but that was just testing the will of the faithful if you looked at it from a different angle.

dream to me (7342/Complete)

“You know, angel. Sometimes I think we’ve been bearing witness to a very great love affair, and we didn’t even notice.”

or: an angel and a demon fall in love. but a bookshop and a bentley do it first.

Linked (15665/WIP)

Crowley allows himself to get caught in a ‘demon trap’. He is now trapped. Oh no. Whatever shall he do.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Post Apocalypse:

Love’s Such An Old-Fashioned Word (2,384/Complete)

There has to be, Crowley thinks, a better word than love.

all i need, darling, is a life in your shape (14,243/Complete)

After everything, Aziraphale and Crowley, by unspoken agreement, begin sharing their lives.

Rip It Up and Start Again (9128/WIP)

After the Apocalypse is averted, an Angel and a Demon go on holiday, which turns into something a bit like retirement... or it would, if there weren't so much unfinished business following them around...

Gourd Omens (11504/Complete)

“Neave is a name I believe and certainly rings a bell but I will have to look up what a cucurbita is - it sounds rather latin.”

“Pumpkin.”

“Yes, dear?”

“Wh-NO not you!”

Aziraphale and Crowley move into their new cottage in South Downs after Armageddidn’t blows over. But of course hellish interference is never far away, and it looks like its target is the local flower show. Can the pair prevent Asparageddon, befriend their neighbours, grow the largest vegetables and win the cup for division B?

A Sky Full of Stars (2575/Complete)

Aziraphale takes Crowley as close to Heaven as they can get, these days.

Salinity (And Other Measurements of Brackish Water) (3455/Complete)

It's an odd thing, getting on after the End of the World. Crowley takes to sea-watching.

dawn on the gates of eden (1262/Complete)

It’s the first day, but it’s an old story.

Slow (9371/Complete)

It started like this: A boy with the ability to warp reality met an angel and a demon and he made assumptions. Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves somehow married. Crowley fears going too fast. Aziraphale forges ahead. Neither know how to ask questions of each other.

it’s a new craze (5541/Complete)

CROWLEY: I try not to make a habit of gratitude, but I must give our appreciation to everyone out there who’s been listening and subscribing to The Ineffable Plan. AZIRAPHALE: Ooh, yes, we’ve become quite popular, haven’t we? CROWLEY: Yeah, just hit number eight on the advice charts … No advertising at all. AZIRAPHALE: Mm. How … miraculous. CROWLEY: … Aziraphale. You did not.

Warning: the rest of these recs contain explicitly mature themes. I’ve tried to tag them to the best of my ability. 

Long Is The Way, And Hard (27081/Complete)

The first time Crawley meets the angel, the celestial being is twisting its shining white robe in its fingers and looking wretched. It hardly spares him a glance as he shifts from snake to human, and Crawley is a touch put-out. It’s taken some practice to be able to do it so fluidly.

#through the ages #gets explicit at the end #soft and emotional sex 

small infinities and all that (13208/Complete)

And there it is, isn’t it? Something they’ve known for a long time, but haven’t named it. Have been too scared to name it. Something that speaks in their bones, in the space between them.

#Crowley and Aziraphale are turned human #gets explicit at the end #soft and emotional sex

The Pleasures of the World/Sleight of Hand (35480/Complete)

Aziraphale's fingers brushed [Crowley's] cheek, then turned his head slowly.

"I'm asking you to think it over," he said, so quietly that Crowley almost couldn't hear him. "That's all."

Crowley's stomach clenched harder. Somehow his hand had gotten ideas again and migrated in the direction of Aziraphale's waist, blindly creeping its way around, forcing the angel to lean slightly forward. This was the sort of thing reckless human teenagers did, or in the very least reckless human adults who hadn't gotten out much and were just beginning to notice how entrancing their bridge partners were.

"Won't take much," Crowley said, and leaned over to kiss him.

#slow burn #buildup of various sexual encounters #Aziraphale and his Hedonism are out for a joyride

The 21st Century, In Which They Finally Work It Out (22379/Complete)

This is light speed in comparison to the last few centuries of their relationship, but Crowley is barely holding on to his patience.

#gets explicit in the end #soft and emotional sex

You, Soft and Only (9400/Complete)

He hadn’t expected a sudden lapful of angel.

“Very sorry about this,” Aziraphale said, and kissed him.

#Aziraphale and Crowley have various sexual encounters through history #get you horny first and break your heart halfway through the story #fem!Aziraphale #fem!Crowley #all sorts of genital configurations and all of it is thoroughly entertaining 

The Better Part of Valour (6204/Complete)

“...the apocalypse has Not Happened and they’ve fallen into queerplatonic (or so they think) bedsharing and Crowley thinks he’s alone in being driven slowly to distraction by it, so he says nothing. Then one night he wakes when it’s still dark, and at first he doesn’t know why, until he hears Aziraphale’s breathing a little raspier than usual, and feels the very slight trembling of the bed.”

#bedsharing #Aziraphale has a Vulva #masturbation #fingerfucking #this one gave me about 5 heart attacks from how hot it was

for let thy efforts be (9337/Complete)

The first time Crowley made the Effort, he was reclining on a very comfortable couch in the dimly-lit confines of a cozy little restaurant in Rome, with his head pillowed upon the breast of an Angel.

#alcohol #nonhuman genitalia #fingering

Surrender (series) (78,828/Complete)

Aziraphale felt the explosion of dark power all the way in London, but had no idea Crowley was involved. When he realizes the demon is missing, Aziraphale goes looking. What he finds is not the lively, wily adversary but a dying snake that barely feels of demonic power at all. The angel can perform miracles, but he can’t heal a demon. Aziraphale has to do everything he can to save Crowley, because an eternity alone on this Earth is as unthinkable as the end of the world was.

#Hurt and Comfort #Near Death Experience #Crowley is a VERY pushy sub #marking/possessiveness #piercings and tattoos done with holy water/blessed objects

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

I want to tell you... (Part 9.)

Description: Nathan Drake is not the exact definition of an unhappy man. His job is steady, his friends still see him from time to time, he plays football, but his marriage is his main problem. Many things will change when a special person comes to his life.

Part Summary: Nathan and Sully had talked you down to join them for a family dinner, at which a set of unfortunate misunderstandings was started

A/N: This shit was hillarous to write, I tell you that. 

Word counter: 2.9K

Tagging: @missdictatorme​, @peakymarvels​, @nemodoren​, @flavorishy​

Series master list: H E R E

Nathan’s car sing-along playlist: H E R E

GIF SOURCE

"Oh no, no, no, crap, what the hell did you manage to do with it?" - Nathan yelled with a horrified expression, running to you with a tea towel swing over his shoulder. He looked at the cut in your finger, inspecting it in its entirety as if you should die any minute because of fatal blood loss. You were kind of snickering at his reaction because Nathan was really cute when he was worried about you.

The man ran away for one minute. One minute to look at some gig Sully was thinking of accepting. And when he got back, you were suddenly bleeding. Jesus fucking Christ, you were kinda hard to wrap the head around. But you were still fun, so Nathan was only half-terrified.

"Shove it into your mouth and suck the blood out, come on." - Nathan instructed you with a serious face. A giggle sounded through the room, which made Nate turn at you from searching for a sticking-plaster for your severely wounded finger. Some mumbo-jumbo left your mouth when you sucked on the blood, watching the man in front of you. - "Come again?" - Nate asked you to repeat yourself while cut off a small portion of the plaster so you wouldn't have it on your whole finger.

"I asked if this is how you acted around in the kitchen when someone hurts themselves. I mean, look at you, you're a drama queen. You will wrap me in a bubble foil to prevent me from getting hurt again." - You stated, having a bit of evil, mean expression in your face. But the smile told Nate that you're just testing him and his patience. Performing you a pitiful 'ha-ha', the man came closer and made the small cut is covered. - "Is this even hygienic, Nate? Will my finger just rot and fall off now? You can start calling me fingerless Y/N by now." - With that, Nate chuckled at the sight of you pretending to be a pirate, making a hook out of your finger. When those theatrics were over, you turned back to cutting the peppers for his masterpiece.

"Human saliva has some healing properties, for your information. But if you'd like me to drench that cut in alcohol disinfection, shove it underwater or different stuff, just tell me." - Nate looked at you knowingly, swinging around with his knife, explaining to you why is licking the cut something he learned that helps a long time ago. When he and his brother were younger, they didn't have enough money to buy proper first-aid kids, which made a lot of things harder. But saliva could do magic in some instances.

"Nah, I think I'm fine, Drake. My finger got the best treatment it could get, so I'm fine." - You chuckled back and heard the front door of Sully's apartment close. Sully himself was sitting in his workroom, going through another possible gig offers - so this must've been his girlfriend Nate and he told you about. And your eyebrows arched when you saw a very young woman dressed up in formal clothes letting her hair out of the bun she had it in as she kicked off her high-heels. You've expected someone... Older. A lot older. This girl didn't have a single wrinkle on her skin - she was gorgeous in every sense of the word. And she was also very eye-catching.

But she stopped at the same as you did, looking at you with her eyes widened. Slowly, she licked her lips, leaning her elbow to the wall next to her while eyeing you up and down. - "Okay, miss, who are you, and what are you doing in my flat?" - The woman asked, making sure you feel cornered by her. And dear lord, she was great in intimidating the living shit out of you.

"I'm... On... A visit?" - You peeped and at that moment, Drake saved your ass by peeking from behind you, sending Florence a casual smile. The anger suddenly disappeared into the thin air. The woman walked to you excitedly, offering you a palm to shake.

"Name's Florence Carter. Nice to meet you." - She told you with pure joy, which dropped a bit when you told her your name. Oh. Sully told you that his and his girlfriend's situation is pretty fresh, so she must've concluded that you're Elena, since she hadn't the chance to meet her yet. But her bright smile was on again in no time at all, as she greeted Nate by a bear hug, leaving to greet Sully as well.

You've heard her talking about some sort of Drake exposition in some institute, which sparked another conversation between you and Nate.

"Listen. Drake... That kinda does ring a bell inside my head." - You turned at him, watching the man preparing homemade tortillas. He turned back to you as well, arching his eyebrows in surprise.

"You're into history?" - He asked before working with the dish-to-be once again. You didn't know the slightest shit about history. Honestly, you could barely remember your homeland's history and that, for you, was the absolute maximum. But you made an agreeing hum nonetheless. - "Go on, who was Francis Drake? You have me shook now."

Fuck. Fuck. Nathan's voice was hinting that he was aware of you knowing an absolute shit about some Francis Drake. Who was he? Well, your time to shine was there, and you didn't want to leave Nate hanging. - "Francis Drake, you asking me, huh?" - "Yea, I am." - "Well, there was this certain craze about marine biology, as you surely know. It was some time after Columbus had discovered the continent and he noticed some big sea animal in the water and he was in awe, to quote him 'I will be exploring the sea life from now on'. Yea, don't look at me like that, Jesus, Nate, everyone knows this shit. And Francis Drake was a man who was watching the dolphins for some time now and he agreed to help Columbus with his research." - You told Nathan, having the man laughing in the half of your on-the-spot-made story. Your confidence was what made him almost weeping tears away from his cheeks. - "Come on, I was at least in the ballpark." - You snickered at the sound of his laughter, which made you secretly smile too.

"You were in a ballpark... Of a completely different era, explorers and scientists. He liked the sea, that's something you guessed correctly, and for all I know, sir Francis Drake could be a marine biologist, but... I don't know if he'd find time to watch sea animals and fish during his thrilling privateer and many believed pirate career." - Nate smiled at you while leaning over your shoulder for a bottle of olive oil. Well, damn you, Nate was clearly very educated in the subject and you just made a total dud out of yourself. But the damage was already done, and you just had to accept the utter defeat.

"And... Is it some coincidence that you have the same surname, or..?" - You asked and added the pepper to the burrito filling. You were already hungry as hell and the meat blend Nate had finished about half an hour ago was smelling so delicious that you thought about eating all of it by yourself before the burritos will be even finished.

"Not entirely. It's..." - Suddenly, the joy had run out of Nate within seconds. He looked in front of himself, dropping the wooden spoon out of his fingers, having a lost gaze and expression on his face. The man licked his lips and tried to ignore the tightening feeling inside his chest. - "It is a long story. I'll maybe tell you one day, huh? Just not right now, okay?" - He tried to talk through the empty silence you had going on.

You felt bad suddenly. You had just bumped into some sensitive topic. And you didn't want to hurt the man who was just starting to be your friend. - "Can I tell you a pirate joke? To make you feel better?" - You asked, standing next to him as he was working on the first burritos.

"Now we're talking. You have my full attention." - Nate turned his head at you as you watched the tortillas frying. You smiled with a slick grin, straightening up to deliver the joke perfectly. - "Why is pirating so addictive?" - You asked and took the first tortilla from him, filling it up skillfully. You couldn't cook for shit, but this wasn't so hard, and you wanted to help him at least somehow. - "No idea." - Nate giggled, already knowing it's going to be one of the worst jokes anyone had ever tell him. And that was almost unreachable primacy because his brother had singlehandedly told him the worst jokes he ever heard.

"Well, they say once ye lose yer first hand, ye get hooked!" - You said with a nasty grin, pretending that your wounded finger is a hook again. The man rolled his eyes, but he laughed nonetheless, saying something along the lines 'this is so bad, Jesus'. Soon enough, you prepared enough burritos for all of you to eat. The rest of the fresh vegetables, of which you took care as well, was for Nate to cook from at his home. Florence had changed into more comfortable clothes and Sully looked strangely contained. You had an idea of what was going on, but Sully most probably had just some good nap to your letdown.

The woman was energetically jolting around the table with a big smile, serving everyone the wine she caught for the occasion, humming one of the summer bops that was playing inside her head. When she sat down next to Sully, the older man chuckled and looked at Nathan. - "She wants to tell you somethin', boyo." - Sully smugged and motioned his hand for her to continue in the news she had to say. Nathan arched his eyebrows, excited about the unknown information Florence had for him.

"The local national museum will have... A wirble, please." - Her elbow nudged Sully's side. The man rolled his eyes because he was just shoving a burrito down his throat, but did as she asked for, drumming his fingers on the desk of the table. - "A permanent sir Francis Drake exhibition thanks to you, Sully and Sam providing me with so many Drake exhibits. We're now talking about the next pirates we would like to include in the exhibition. I will be forever grateful for that, because, now we're in business, baby and I am the project's main curator." - Florence said joyfully, having Sully proudly smoothing the upper part of her thigh while he still shoved the rest of his food down.

Nathan breathed out in shock and leaned his back into the chair, looking into the table with fascination. But that certainly wasn't enough. Florence had more to say. - "And because I am a big animal in the museum, I proposed the idea of us including some most famous legends, myth, and theories surrounding the pirated... I have pulled some strings and your mom's work will be included. If you'd agree, that is." - Florence said quickly so Nathan would know she isn't taking it as a sure thing. Which put tears into the man's eyes.

You couldn't know about Nate's past and his mom, so you were kind of an intruder in the situation. But the revelation and joy radiating out of your friend was handing in the air and it was so clear, that it made you feel good as well. The whole dinner, understandingly, was rotating around the topic of Nate's mother and the whole exhibition.

At the end of the evening, you had to say that Sully and Florence were a true power couple. Sully was a famous Irish pub owner, of which most of the people in the town knew and you had it on your wish-list as well by the time, and Florence seemed to be pulling the strings in the national museum despite her young age. And to be honest, you were kind of having respect for both of them, which was surely applying to Nathan as well, because he was their best friend. Were these guys in a fucking gang or something? The more they talked about their day-to-day life, the more convinced you were about it.

Holy fuck. You just had to have fucking bad luck with people, hadn't you?

And naturally, Nathan noticed your bad mental state as he drove you home around ten p.m. You were awkwardly silent throughout the whole ride that it made him worried. And being the upfront man he was, he just asked you what's wrong. Ever since you told him your theory about Sully and Florence, possibly even him, being leaders of some gang, Nathan couldn't stop laughing about your assumption.

"What's so funny about that? Huh? I'm fucking scared for my life and you're just laughing at me, man." - You exclaimed when you stopped at a red light to wait before continue on your small journey to your home. Nathan gave you such a sweet smile that it made you feel like a total idiot for a moment - but then, you gathered your confidence back, reminding yourself about these two.

"We're not some... Gang. I assure you of that, okay? It's way wilder than some boring gang." - Nate rolled his eyes playfully and stepped on the gas pedal again, moving the car forward. This statement, no matter if it was a joke or not, made your eyes widen. Was Nathan about to abduct you? Just drive off with you into the night? Was Elena even real in the first place? Jesus fucking Christ, you were on the verge of crying at the moment. - "Please, no, no, no." - The man panicked suddenly at seeing you so distressed at some another dumb joke he made. - "We're not bad people, I swear on my life, okay? I am just a normal guy who works as a cook. That's who I am. I have no dark secrets or past." - He was making it worse and worse with each passing second he was talking.

"What if... Crap, listen to me. I'll tell you what we're doing as a side job. And it's nothing bad-people related, but... It sure as hell breaks a lot of laws and you have to stay silent about everything I would possibly tell you." - Nathan burst out in his full-on panic mode. The man wanted to bitch-slap himself so badly. With every word he told you, he just made the whole deal seem more and more serious. - "I am an archeologist. I do search for... Stuff you hear legends about. But I would have to explain to you deeper for you to stop thinking I am some sort of a sociopath. Would you... Listen to it? Please?" - Nathan breathed out, having an uncomfortable expression himself. Quickly, you glanced over to him. And it left you surprised.

His breath was shallow as he fell deeper and deeper into one of his anxiety-panic attacks. He had tears in his eyes while his palms crushed the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white almost instantly. Nathan was just trying to be the goofy guy around the girl he liked and all it had accomplished was that now she thought that he was a criminal of sorts. And he couldn't take any of it back.

"Okay." - You whispered after a moment. It was probably just your brain jumping to conclusions too fast as it always did. Maybe Sully was really just a pub owner who was just a good businessman. Maybe his young girlfriend Florence was an extremely talented historian. And most likely, Nate was just a guy who loved to cook for other people. The man slowly faced you again, trembling almost unnoticeable. - "Okay. You can tell me about this side job you have. But if it just comes across as human trafficking or..." - "No! No. I would never... Never. No." - The man disagreed immediately, letting you know that this reaction was as authentical as it could be.

"Would you like to come to my place to tell me about it?" - You whispered, slowly gaining the initial trust you had for your new-found friend in the strange city you were an outsider in.

"I have a lot of things to prove my storied at my place and I would have to pack them up and move them to my car. Would you mind..?" - Nate asked nervously. It was weird as fuck to ask you to hang out at his place after the full-blown conspiracy theory about him being a criminal who probably kills people, but really - all of the artifacts, books, maps, and other shit Nate hoarded throughout the years were too fragile to just take to your place.

You were silent for a moment as you tried to contain the nerves inside you, but you nodded in the end. You trusted Nathan. And he felt redeemed at the exact same moment.

[marvinswriting]

Meeting  borrower art freaks au

Fuck.

My head hurt so bad.

The world was spinning.

I'm gonna die.

I know that much.

I think I sprained my ankle.

I'm not stupid. Weeks without water, proper food, or shelter doesn't bode well. 

Has it even been weeks?

Maybe its only been days.

I don't know anymore.

"Janis, while you were borrowing we came to a conclusion."

"What conclusion, Regina? Did I do something wrong?"

I laugh bitterly to myself at the memory. It was slowly becoming day as I pushed myself through the tall grass. A new day, with the sky turning beautiful blues with some pink far off. Just like the day my roommates kicked me out.

"We think you're a lesbian. We can't live with a lesbian. What if you do something?"

That accusation made me feel dirty. I'm twelve, why would I even think of something like that? It didn't matter to Regina. 

"Gretchen and Karen agree. You need to leave. It shouldn't be too hard to find a new house."

Regina was my childhood friend. We were taught how to borrow together. Everything I learned Regina learned too. We found Karen and Gretchen together, we picked a house to live in together. I've never been alone before.

Until now. 

My stomach growls, it feels like its caving in on itself. 

My throat is dry but I know better than to drink from the dew on the grass. 

I'm following a fence. Don't know how long I've been but I am.

I need to lean on the white painted wood to walk.

My movement is sluggish and my limbs are heavy. 

My ankle is killing me.

Birds fly overhead and I freeze. If one of them were to swoop down I'd be done for. 

I don't have the weapons to fight back, let alone the energy. 

The fence ends.

Where do I go now?

There are two houses. Neither looks appealing. Besides, how would I find a way in?

Regina and I got lucky last time.

I'm out of house hunting practice.

I just want to lay down.

The word sways again. I'm gonna die.

I know a lot of borrowers don't live till old age. But I always thought I'd at least make it to my teenage years.

The sky is total blue at this point. The night time creatures are gone for the night but I don't feel safer.

There's a willow tree in front of me, I don't see it through the grass but its flower clumps are scattered around. 

Are they edible?

I don't test it.

Maybe it'd be easier to just give in to the exhaustion.

To fall asleep and not wake up.

Maybe an animal will find me. 

Maybe a human will and I'll be an internet craze for a bit as people try and debate what I am.

I push a clump of grass to the side. The tree.

It's huge, as most things are to me. I look up, ignoring the way the world spins, at the trunk that seems to go up for miles. There's moss at the base of the tree, in between the roots. 

I give into the exhaustion and sit down. It's soft. 

I lay on my side letting my eyes close.

I've reached the point of fatigue where my eyes burn when I close them. I squeeze them shut anyway. 

My body seems to catch onto the fact that I've given up.

Everything is numb, I don't even feel my ankle anymore.

"I'm sorry this had to happen, Janis."

No, you weren't, Regina. My health was never your priority. 

My limbs feel heavy as the need for sleep sets in. 

The rustling of plants around me is almost calming.

My brain is no longer worried about what caused the noise, or what potential danger I could be in. 

The calm I felt should be worrying. 

It wasn't.

There were footsteps. Not heavy ones like humans. Like a borrower.

Oh cool. I feel like that should connect in my brain, warn me of danger, tell me to get up and fight, but it doesn't. I don't have anything world stealing. If they want to kill me, they can.

The footsteps seem to walk past before halting. "Hello?"

Its a boy. He sounds young. Maybe my age. 

I don't respond. 

I don't even move.

"Are you okay?"

No.

I don't say it though.

I don't want to de, I've just accepted the fact. 

I'm alone. My roommates kicked me out. My childhood best friend though I was a creep who would do something. Just the thought of the memory makes me curl in on myself tight.

The movement from me is all mystery boy needs to know I'm alive.

"Do you need help?"

He's walking closer.

I don't respond.

I can feel myself drifting into sleep. I don't think I could move if I tried. 

There's a muffled hello?

Is this what dying feels like?

It's peaceful. 

Arms are scooping underneath me, lifting me up. 

I can't fight it.

I don't try to.

The boy is warm. 

I'm cold.

This feels nice.

-

The first continuous thought I have is, I'm not fucking dead.

Too much pain to feel dead. Everything is sore. My head hurts.

My eyes are still shut.

I don't try and open them yet.

I try and remember what the fuck was going on.

Regina cut me out.

She made it clear I wasn't wanted.

I was left for dead.

That boy-

I sit up suddenly, my hand shooting to my head in a vain was to stop the world from spinning. I was in a bedroom. The matchbox underneath me was soft and the room looked decently lived in. 

Was I- in the boy's house?

Did he save me?

He didn't have to. 

"Hello?" I called out tentatively.

My voice sounded as awful as I felt. I froze, listening. Footsteps approached the room as a boy with brown hair stepped in. He looked my age, maybe older. 

"You're awake." He states. It's not a question but there's disbelief in his voice like he unsure it'd happen. "I'm Damian."

"Janis." I say, watching Damian hoover in the doorway. Was he scared of me? Or did he not want to scare me?

"You were unconscious for just under a week," Damian explains stepping into the room. "It's about eleven at night right now, sixth day."

Six days?

No wonder he was surprised to see me awake.

"Oh," I say softly. We kinda just glance at each other for a while. Damian's hair falls slightly over his eyes. His clothes look well taken care of, which is a sign of living pretty well as a borrower. I used to look like that. I probably look like a fucking mess now.

Damian coughed awkwardly. "Well, I gotta go borrow now. I'll make it quick but in the meantime feel free to explore around the area. I'd stick close with that ankle of yours though."

That ankle?

I watch as Damian leaves without waiting for a response. It's quiet for a while, and I just lay there.

Why did Damian make sure I was okay? 

He could have just walked away and let me die.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and I'm instantly reminded why Damian mentioned my ankle. 

I hiss, immediately lifting the pressure off it. 

It's banged which- it definitely wasn't before.

I only knew this boy for five minutes but- if he didn't have good intentions- then why go through all this to make sure I'm okay?

I leave the bedroom, using the wall to support the other half of my weight.

Damian is right, I don't make it far before collapsing on a chair in what looks to be the kitchen/storage area. I was still concerned about Damian's motives, but I wasn't exactly nervous. 

Why not just leave me for death if you don't care.

I sit in silence for a while, the sounds outside the walls and occasional creak keeping me company.

It's been a while since I've been inside. Damian's space was about the same size as my old one. But he lived alone and I lived with four other girls. 

"I'm back!" A voice calls.

"In here," I say. I can talk easier now.

Damian enters the room. "Ankle okay? I didn't want to mess with it too much before you woke up. It felt weird to like-" He turns up is palms but I get what he's saying.

I was unconscious and he was a stranger.

"Thank you," I say softly. 

Damian nods and begins unpacking his supplies. "Ever since I've found you, I've had one question. What happened to you? You're clearly dressed as you lived comfortably. So how do you end up on the verge of death at the base of a weeping willow?"

I shrug. A total stranger doesn't need my sob story. I can tell him later if it comes to it. "Long story short, I was house hunting. Roommates decided they didn't need roommates anymore. After almost a year together. It was sudden and I wasn't prepared to be outside with no food or water."

Damian's mouth forms an 'o' but he doesn't say anything. He silently passes me what I think is part of a grape from where he was cutting food. "Well, if you want- and feel free to say no, you can stick around here for a while. At least till that ankle heals. I wouldn't mind a roommate, it gets quiet around here. Even if it's temporary."

"Until my ankle heals." I agree.

-

I smile at the newly placed bed. 

After four months of carefully dancing around the topic of if I'll be staying, Damian and I finally agreed to officially be roommates. I bounce on my toes, ankle fully healed, as Damian pushes the matchbox into place.

"Ta-da!"

"Yes!" I cross the room, throwing my arms around his neck. "Thank you."

Damian ug me back, his arms squeezing around my sides. "Of course. I'm glad to officially have a new roommate."

Even in four months, Damian has shown me more love and support then Regina had done since birth. The second my ankle was healed we started borrowing together. The arguments and tension I had borrowing with my old roommates was gone.

Damian could do a simple wave of his hand and I knew exactly what he meant.

I hug him tighter. "No, really. Thank you."

fun fact: i was writing this while giving bear ides for her most recent fic @realmisspolarbear @smallsoysauce @musicallygt @sourishlemons

[lanamemories2]

Startled by the sound of his door opening, Lana turned after making her last adjustments. She’d been hanging his birthday gift by his window, a prime spot for the breeze to stir if the latch was undone. Strung up on a homemade mobile, one she’d recruited the help of various minions to make, dangled twelve separate origami animals, each a different colour. All had a personalised message from one of Dom’s friends, if you spread the paper flat to read them.

Ducky’s said ‘cool guy :)’ and was folded into a bear. Navy white pinstripe. 

Philly’s only had a little goblin doodled on holding a fistful of socks. The paper was an expensive kind, white with mint and lilac glitter. Folded into a caterpillar. Lana liked this one because caterpillar’s have butterflies inside them and she feels the magic in Philly is sourly overlooked by the general population -- she’s the most likely person Lana knows to sprout wings and fly away.

Viktor’s was far too explicit with a recurring mention of cock. It could not be included in the gift.

Maggie’s was a wolf. Lana drew a little smiley face below the snout that wasn’t quite fitting, but it felt friendlier, that way, more Maggie -- paired with a dainty floral paper, too. It had a quote written on from Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. “She rested her head against his and felt, for the first time, what she would often feel with him: a self-affection. He made her like herself.” It finished with “love you, Maggie x”. 

Marlowe’s was a tiger. Flame orange, eye catching. On it, it said: ‘anyone who's put up with my shit for almost four years deserves a medal of some kind... like pinned to their lapel and personally engraved and everything. i got outbid on ebay so I don't have a fancy medal to give you...so instead i'll just say, you're a good guy dom evans! and I hope you have a fucking awesome birthday man. if anyone deserves only good things its you :)‘.

Rosa’s was folded into a monkey. Pink paper, in the end, because Rosa makes Lana think of love and blushing and sunsets. ‘dom i can't believe you're 23 today, you're an old man now!!! when i was just an embarrassing 12 year old and made those happy 15th bday shirts for you i was so obsessed with you because a small part of you thought you were an angel on earth and you'd come to protect me but it's nice to know now that we can protect each other. i'm still going to wear those 15th bday shirts for the rest of the week so everyone knows, i think your life is the most celebration worthy thing in existence. and if you want to know i am, in fact, hoping that i never marry so that by the time i'm 35 we can just run off together, preferably with franklin in tow, and have a worry free life, it's what you deserve. i love you forever dominic james evans!!!‘

Kasey’s was a fish in a pastel shade, sweet like a ripe peach. ‘Happy birthday Dom, you're the best of the best!!‘

Jude’s was a sloth. Deeper blue. Lana hassled him to write Dom one despite the fact they aren’t even particularly close. On it, he wrote: ‘Dunno you that well but you seem alright. Lana’s pacing as I write, clearly riled her up enough. Saw your ass in full view, high definition. Was decent. Good work soldier. Back to the trenches. Happy birth and shit.’.

Gunner’s was a dog. She did her best to capture the essence of a golden retriever with yellow paper, given that this was his family pet’s breed. Notably, she drew a very large dick onto the origami between it’s legs -- assuring Gunner Paxton’s legacy wasn’t overlooked. ‘in first year i had a hard time making friends and you saw me struggling in the caf when i sprained my wrist so you offered to help me cut up my food and i thought it was weird but it was the first time a stranger showed me care in such a specific way now i always feel cared for with you and it's nice so thanks for being you and happy bday‘.

Jack’s was a lion. Below the paper mane Lana wrote ‘NOT UGLY’ in small, block font, almost fashioned like a collar. The paper was faded black and white, referee striped -- tribute to his time coaching little league. Unfolded, it says: ‘dearest cousin Dominic, you are my favorite cousin even when you peed on me that one time at the beach because you said it would keep the jellyfish away. thank you for always throwing the football around with me and even being okay with it if i threw it too hard and it hit your nose and made it bleed and we had to tell my dad you tripped over a rock. happy birthday let’s get fucked! Love Your Best Friend, Jack Hall :P’.

Will’s was a shark, folded from paper slicked to look like an oil spill, gleaming in the light -- dark and technicolour, all at once. Lana drew sunglasses over the eyes. ‘sorry i tried to dye your hair purple that one time. you're kind of great even if statistically you shouldn't be since you're an RA. that's fucking bizarre of you, by the way. you seem to be one of those people that's genuinely good which is also fucking bizarre but i figure if anyone around here deserves a good year, it's you. happy fucking birthday don't die xoxo‘

Marla’s was a pigeon. Oxblood red. She wanted a vicious city-dwelling creature that feasted on the flesh of abandoned McDonald’s fries. ‘you are more worthy than a thousand plates of ikea meatballs. you can seize life by the balls. the meatballs. extended meatball metaphor. you are a leaf floating on an amber river. you are a cherry blossom caught in a ceiling fan. if auras existed yours would be INCREDIBLY fucking sexy. you will live a long life and father approximately 333.3 children.’

Noah’s was a sky blue dog with a doodled strand of wheat from it’s mouth. ‘hey man happy birthday :) not to get all sappy but im really grateful to know you. don't know if luck is real but if it is, hope this brings you some of the best of it there is’. A drawing of a little four leaf clover after the message.

There was a thirteenth string without anything attached and Lana almost took it as an omen of how unlucky it was, her opening up in this way, how much she’d come to see it as a curse. But she held it in her hands, anyway. A swan as white as the Betta fish she’d pointed out as him at the aquarium. Wishing star white. Whiter than an angel. The most Dom paper she could think to fold it from, when she woke up and realised she’d been dreaming about him. 

“Hey,” she breathed with a laugh, cat burglar caught with the ruby in gloved hands. By all practical accounts, she’d broken and entered. “Charmed my way in. Wanted to, um... Was meant to be a surprise, like, an in and out job, and... I told some other RA Gunner left his inhaler here and he went all crazed, like, Action Man, whipping out a master key. Totally Oscar worthy. Should probably... let him know Gunner isn’t dead, later, but. Wanted to give you your present. It’s, um... I mean, it’s everyone,” came as she sifted gently at Philly’s caterpillar, smile bubbling to the surface. “I got them all to write you stuff. It isn’t, like, crazy, or anything, but.” Lana wet her lips, excitement overflowing -- she couldn’t seem to smother her smile. “This... is mine.” That did it. It faded as her eyes dropped. She pinched the swan delicately in both hands, then, blood rushing in her ears -- it provided amusing contrast, the coy blush in her cheeks with the devil horns she’d slid into her hair, a costume nobody had asked for. “Kinda wrote it... a while ago. It’s -- I don’t know,” she second guessed, laughing again at how dumb she was sure she sounded. Gestures like this always scared her, when she really meant them, felt like far too much. “You can read it, if you wanna.” @domfm​

[doomedandstoned]

Are You A Bible Basher?

~By Billy Goate~

Art by J. Hannan-Briggs

Words from the Bible,

                      ...riffs from Hell.

This is BIBLE BASHER, a lumbering, sludgey beast of a death-doom band, drawing its fellows from Kurokuma, Archelon, Spaztik Munkey, and a band whose name alone intrigues me enough to spirit them out: Temple of Coke. The debut recording before us is 'Loud Wailing' (2020), just released last month on the Sludgelord Records Label and it's good stuff.

Chances are good that if you're unfamiliar with the band, you're waiting for the other shoe to drop: what's the agenda here? It bears mentioning that "Bible Basher" is an almost uniquely UK term. In the States, we tend to use the more politically acceptable (though still insulting) "Bible Thumper." Getting to the point: a Bible Basher is not someone who subjects the big black book and the pages there to beating, maiming, or otherwise spilling syrup on its Holy Writ nor turning its sacred pages into roll paper for a cheap high.

No, a Bible Basher is someone single-mindedly determined to bash you with their beliefs, clean across the head. You gotta get you on board with the whole worldview, the Last Days manifesto, the 3 steps to this place, the 5 steps to somewhere else, and however many more steps to the sanctuary doors. Usually, this evangelism has all the clumsy subtlety of a Jack Chick tract left on the Gas Station john. Sometimes it gets a bit more intrusive, like a manic street preacher with a megaphone or, more annoying still, a brainwashed politician determined to fence you into their highly selective idea of "God's Will."

All culture warring aside, it might surprise you to learn that I hold a great deal of respect for the Bible and believe it has an important role in developing our understanding of what makes human beings so fundamentally religious. The Bible is just one expression of people's religious and spiritual identity, of course. There have been many volumes written, by the gods it was said, attempting to reconcile the real and the ideal, time and eternity, the drab and the divine.

All fancy preambling aside, I wonder why more bands haven't gotten into the Bible and other sacred/profane lit, you know kinda breathing new life into old words? You have to admit, the concept is fascinating and the medium of expression surprisingly fits the unsparing nature of the content.

Perhaps afraid of appearing sacrilegious or being denounced as a Deicide wannabe, bands have just decided to walk away slowly. That or they don't even know how truly bizarre and sometimes brilliant the Bible can be. True, there are bands like Trouble/The Skull who have adapted Scripture into music, even succeeded in crossing over to a non-religious audience. Hell, The Byrds practically immortalized the words of The Preacher in Ecclesiastes back in '65 with that folk rock classic, 'Turn, Turn, Turn." Bible Basher are definitely onto a thing here.

Regardless of where you find a band called Bible Bash on the meter between "disgusting" and "fucking awesome, dude," they really aren't here to mock Scripture or Christians, not even to pronounce a value judgement. This is an artful attempt at retelling the stories of old, allowing us to gaze upon their vision.

☩

So Samson Sang

Loud Wailing by Bible Basher

Out of all books, The Bible is perhaps most prized for its collection of ancient stories, many of which become embedded in our collective consciousness over time (if not the unconscious mind itself). The tale of Samson, for instance, is practically universal (Hercules, anyone?). Bible Basher invoke its powerful imagery for this Rage against the Philistines opener. The bulldog gruff of "So Samson Sang" suits the song unexpectedly well. Perhaps the impact is greater because we feel the punch of each word, measured and metered, calculated to leave the most indelible impact.

Simson verslaat de Filistijnen met een ezelskaak (1562) by Cornelis Massijs

Plagued

Loud Wailing by Bible Basher

You'll never hear the anguish of Job expressed with as much weight as you will in "Burning and Blackened," for example. And the death-mongers among us, you'll enjoy the swirling storm of blast beats that "Plagued" stirs up and whips around Egypt, 10 plagues in all it is said. As this topsy-turvy number swarms along, the song feels like it's burrowing itself deeper and deeper into the ground in a crazed hypnotic dirge, as if seeking some relief from this madness of rivers turned to blood and a head full of lice.

Seventh Plague of Egypt (1823) by Martin John

Burning and Blackened

Loud Wailing by Bible Basher

I'm really digging the Middle Eastern vibe of "Burning and Blackened," on the tape's flip side. I could all but feel the cool of dawn and that first burning lick of the sun's rise. As a die-hard doomer, it won't surprise you that I marked this my favorite song of the experience. The way this grand skeleton of chords suffles about had me thinking of Iowa City's Aseethe (I hereby wish an Aseethe-Bible Basher tour upon the world come 2021).

Job and his Friends (1885) by Gustave Dore

Sodom & Gomorrah

Loud Wailing by Bible Basher

By the time we reach "Sodom & Gomorrah," we're battered, basted, and baked, ready for a fine finish to this four-course nosh. The vocals seem harsher than usual this time, but you have to understand that's the prophet divining judgement upon the most infamous twin cities of history (we find out in the interview to follow that there are multiple vocalists).

The whole song's got a nice, chewy groove to it. Plenty of meat on them bones. The lyrics consist of nothing more than the Bible's words, adding as much expressive liberty as death vocals will allow. The thick, smoky atmosphere of this whole song gave me flashbacks to 71TONMAN's "Phobia" and Old Man Gloom's "Procession of the Wounded."

The destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah by Jules-Joseph-Augustin Laurens

If I've any gripe with Loud Wailing, it's the runtime. Okay, yeah, sure, it's appropriate for an EP, but I can't shake the feeling that this is actually more of a teaser for something even grander in scope. Perhaps this is a toe in the water for the band, to see how people respond? Well, it's enough to reassure us that this sound and subject matter is poised to make some mighty big footprints.

Heck, I'd do the whole Bible book by book, if I was in their shoes. 66 in all, right? No problem. Okay, 73 if you're Catholic, 78 if you're Eastern Orthodox. Whatever, bonus editions. Works either way, 'cause you've got a guaranteed record deal and freaks like me to follow you wherever this piper lures. The band can break up from the repetitive bore of the long-ass genealogies in Leviticus and Numbers, but then reunite again to take on Deuteronomy.

All kidding aside, the dramatic potential of this collaboration is unreal. Bible Basher's debut is a promising record that presents tantalizing artistic possibilities (perhaps even with a roving collective of performers). The EP wears well on its own terms with repeated listens and I never found myself disinterested, even for a moment. Loud Wailing is the brutal dawning of a New Age in dirty grunts and dank riffs.

Give ear...

Loud Wailing by Bible Basher

An Interview with Bible Basher

By Billy Goate

Intrigued by this hulking beast shrieking out in my backyard, I had to move in for a closer look. Following is my conversation with band member Joe E. Allen, who most of us know from Kurokuma and gives us insight as to who Bible Basher is and what the band is up to.

☩

Would you be so kind as to give me some background on the band, how you guys ended up coming together, basically the whole history?

Tich has recorded and helped produce most of the Kurokuma releases up till now, most of which you've heard or written about. Tich mostly makes electronic music and is pretty well known for it, but he was also in a band called Temple of Coke back in the day. Daft music with two guitarists and no bassist. Some big riffs in there.

They stopped doing much after one of the guitarists left Sheffield, but Tich still had a lot of riffs lying around. Obviously, he used to come to a lot of Kurokuma gigs in Sheffield -- and even saw us in Japan -- so he felt like getting back on writing some big guitar stuff and asked me if I'd give him some input. Over the course of a year or so we just reshaped those old riffs and added plenty of new ones and as we progressed it just kept getting bigger and heavier.

What's up with the name? You've got pretty distinct religious themes (love the motto). I come from a strict religious background myself (preacher's kid). What are your own backgrounds relative to the themes you explore?

I've always thought that some of the stories from the Bible, especially the Old Testament would make for perfect concepts in heavy metal. Unrelatedly, one day we were sitting around and Tich said let's call this Bible Basher -- it just came out of nowhere. I agreed, it just seemed to make sense. Here in the UK it's what you get called if you go to church, it's an insult. I had a really Christian upbringing with my dad being a vicar, as well, so was very into all that when I was younger.

Plus I went to a religious school, so I've definitely been called a bible basher quite a bit. It's actually taken me a while to remove that whole paradigm from the way I see reality, but that's another story. Tich wasn't like me in that aspect, but he did go to a religious school, as well. At this point, I think we're both not massive fans of organised religion, but that doesn't mean we're not into philosophy and more celestial concepts. We've both read quite a bit of things like Manly P. Hall and The Kybalion. We didn't wanna make a "statement" on anything with this, though. Just wanted to present it "as is."

I'm sure we'd all love to know how the individual tracks came together. The single on this one was "So Samson Sang," which met with some pretty positive reception.

I know the Bible pretty well and it wasn't too difficult to find concepts for the tracks. "So Samson Sang" was the first one we did. The lyrics are: "With a donkey's jawbone, I made donkeys of them. With a donkey's jawbone, killed a thousand men." And then "I have slain, heaps on heaps." They were from the book of Judges, when Samson slaughtered loads of Philistines, pretty much taken straight off the page. It was that easy. We got George in to do the vocals, for obvious reasons. We sat on the track for a bit and sent it round a few mates and everyone was like, "This is sick," which made us want to finish up the other tracks, which already were mostly done.

The other three tracks all came together in one night. We basically asked three mates from other bands to come over and figured out concepts for each of them. It was good to get their input and it was pretty collaborative. I think they all enjoyed being given a bit of a brief to work within and we were buzzing to end up with four different vocal styles for each track. So on track 1 you have George from Kurokuma, then on track 2 you have Bing who used to be in a thrash band called Psython and can obviously do the really fast/rhythmic thing and his death growls were just spot on. That track ended up sounding like Pig Destroyer or something to me. Obviously, it's about the ten plagues of Egypt and the fast/swirling nature of the riffs just seemed to fit.

On track three, we have Craig from Archelon and Holy Spider, so I know him pretty well. He did more of a Neurosis style on the track about Job. That one starts off with a zurna, which is a pipe from the Middle East area. There's a spoken word section in the middle, a conversation between God and Satan. I actually only realised what this was when we were going through the Bible for the lyrics.

God calls all his angels together, Satan being one of them, and they get into this conversation where God is saying he likes Job and Satan is saying if his life went to shit, I wonder if he'd still worship you. So God is like, "Okay, go for it." It's stuff like this that fascinates me. I think there's a fairly deep message to be heard in that if you read into it, but most Christians won't. As a text of folkloric wisdom the Bible is pretty meaningful to me, but most Christians don't treat it in that way in my experience.

And then we have the demented squeals of Chris from Spaztik Munkey doing the voice of God on track four which is about Sodom and Gomorrah. It worked out well that the ending riff fit perfectly with the syllables in the phrase "Sodom and Gomorrah."

In general, this release was a right laugh to work on. The songs just came together and it was good for us all to collaborate on something outside of our normal bands. And the response has been mega positive so far. Aaron sold out the first 50 tapes in three days so we're already on the second batch now.

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