#can you tell I just finished watching the third stage play

[mob-choir]

by the time the seventh division arc concludes no one can deny that it's clear just how much reigen cares about mob and how far he'll go to protect him, but even so in the day-to-day of the anime and the manga he always maintains an air of professionalism about him. like yes, he loves mob and will always be there for him when he needs him, but unless the situation really calls for emotional honesty reigen will first and foremost act like mob's boss. a supportive boss who occasionally gives him advice, but a boss nonetheless. he's just not that demonstrative unless it's a serious situation.

the stage play on the other hand really said fuck that and made reigen SO much more openly affectionate. paternal, even. the head pats, the arm slung over his shoulders. the way he kept pushing mob (and ritsu, and teru, and even shou) behind him and shielding him with his body during the seventh division fight even though objectively mob was the person least likely to get hurt in that situation. the way he spent a full minute blowing on his takoyaki to cool it down then immediately swapped it with mob's still hot one so he wouldn't burn himself (even though reigen's the one with a history of burning himself with his food, not mob). all these little, almost subconscious gestures that just SCREAM "parent". hell, have you seen him whenever mob does anything? he's always got the proudest look on his face. stage play reigen's default facial expression is "that's my son and I'm SO proud of him" and it's honestly so endearing. he looks like he's one step away from proudly telling you all about how well mob is doing in school.

manga reigen and anime reigen love mob just as much as stage play reigen does, that's undeniable. but while in the anime and manga he doesn't usually show it as openly, stage play reigen just. cannot hide it, or simply doesn't care to. I don't think I would want him to be as open in the original, I think his insistence in maintaining a professional distance (at least in everyday situations) ties in with his fear of mob finding out the truth about reigen and seeing him for who he really is, no masks on. and, as such, it's an integral part of their dynamic and the story. but damn if the choice to make him more open in the stage play, which is altogether much more lighthearted, wasn't an excellent one. it makes me so emotional, they fed us so well. that's his kid, and he's so proud of him 😭😭

[astro-ellie]

thinking about being abby’s best friend and absolutely hating owen. you don’t think he deserves abby at all, he’s such a douche. he’s just not good enough for her, that’s it.

it’s totally not because you’ve been hopelessly in love with your best friend for the past five years. nope, it’s cause she could do so much better than that. owen is an idiot. he’s not her boyfriend yet, but they’re definitely past the talking-stage now. just a matter of time before they make it official.

when abby shows up at your front door for your weekly sleepover, snacks in hand and her bag hanging off her shoulders, you push your thoughts about owen to the back of your mind and focus on her instead. focus on abby, focus, focus, focus.

when you’re both laying on your bed, watching some old romcom on your computer, you don’t notice the way abby looks at you. you’re fully focused on the screen, but abby’s eyes never leave your face. it’s not until she reaches over the pause the movie you look up, and the look in her eyes is enough to have you blushing.

“hey…” abby nibbles on her lip before continuing; “is something wrong?” there’s a concern in her voice, and she looks genuinely worried. you stay silent for a few more seconds while your eyes dart around her face. you hope, hope she doesn’t notice the way your eyes linger on her lips.

“what do you mean?” you’re playing dumb now, you know she’s not really talking about tonight. you’ve been acting weird lately, avoiding your friend group and when you do actually spend time with them you don’t really talk too much anymore.

but how can you tell abby it’s cause her stupid boyfriend is there and you hate his guts? that something is wrong, and that is that she’s with him and not with someone like you.

“c’mon, something’s off. you can tell me, we’re friends right?” and abby bumps her shoulder into yours, and nibbles on on her lips again. just hearing the word friends is enough to make the feeling of disappointment spread in your chest. letting out a defeated; “yeah, we’re friends.”

abby just keeps on looking at you, waiting for an explanation why you’ve been weird. you can tell she’s not going to drop it so eventually you cave in. “just don’t do wanna get in the way, or like i don’t want to… third wheel? just don’t wanna…”

it’s a lousy excuse. really, how can you be the third wheel when manny’s always there? you’re like, the fourth wheel.

you feel a little bit embarrassed when looking at abby, but she just seems confused. “who you third wheeling?”

“uh, you and owen?” now you’re the one confused. who else could you possibly be talking about? are you missing something, or has abby been hit by a sudden wave on amnesia?

the embarrassment you felt earlier just grows stronger when abby starts laughing at you. it’s not a mean laughter, more like a surprised one. still stings though.

“me and owen aren’t- we’re not together or anything.” abby just leans her face closer to yours, and you can practically feel her breath on your own lips.

a bitter “yet” is all you let out and abby can’t help but smile at the pout on your face. she lets out a breathy laugh, bumping into your shoulder once again. “oh my god, me and owen are not going to get together. ever.”

“but i thought-“ and before you can finish your sentence, abby interrupts you. “i’m not even into owen like that. i like someone else” abby’s words has you speechless, feeling your cheeks heat up in frustration. so it’s not owen that you need to worry about, but someone else. great.

somehow it felt worse that it was someone else. because owen has always been a douche. it’s easier to compete against an asshole like him than someone who’s actually nice, and funny, and pretty. three boxes that this mysterious crush probably ticked off.

“what? who?” your hands are on her shoulders now, and you playfully shake her. abby just smiles mockingly at you before she presses the space bar on your computer, the movie you had forgotten about how playing again.

“hey! you gotta tell me, we’re like best friends, best friends tell each other everything” you wince after speaking, cause you don’t tell her everything. guilting abby into telling you about this crush when you haven’t told her about your crush feels low, but it’s too late now. your words are left hanging in the air, until abby suddenly starts speaking again.

“okay, okay. i actually thought she knew i liked her, been into her since forever.” she completely lost you the moment she said “she” instead of “he”. ever since you two first became friends all abby ever had eyes for were boys. and you had learnt to be fine with that, knowing that she would never look at you like she looked at those guys.

you didn’t know if it made you happy to hear this, if it felt good knowing you had more of a chance with her than you initially believed. it did feel a little bit like you were playing in the same league now that you knew she had eyes for women as well.

but you knew that there was no guarantee that she one day would reciprocate your feelings just because she liked women. it felt bittersweet, and lost in your thoughts you didn’t even notice abby had stopped talking. slowly, she closed your laptop completely and moved it further away from you two.

when she moved in front of you and into a sitting position, you finally snapped out of it. sitting up as well, trying to play the way you zoned off. “sorry, you were saying?”

“i said, i thought she knew. that i liked her. but i’m not sure anymore” it almost felt as if she was teasing you, with her head leaning to the side and that small playful smile on her lips.

“really? why’s that?” clearing your throat, trying to make yourself sound casual and cool. abby leans forward a little bit, and whispers as if she’s telling you her biggest secret. “she keeps on inviting me to her apartment for weekly movie dates. but i’m starting to suspect that she thinks they’re friendly hangouts and not dates”

if there’s one thing abby anderson has always been good at, it’s making you speechless. tonight is no exception, and if honestly takes you a good minute to manage to get any words out.

“oh my god, abby! you’re totally fucking with me!” it does feel a little bit humiliating, but obviously abby doesn’t know you like her like that. so how would she be able to know about the hurt her joke left you with?

“no, i’m not!” all she does is laugh at you, grabbing onto your shoulders before letting out a soft; “it’s you. i like you”

and before you know it, abby presses her lips against yours. it’s a soft and quick kiss, innocent and pure, but it’s enough to make butterflies spread through your body.

”wait- why, why didn’t you tell me earlier?” it’s hard to get the sentence out, all you can focus on is the way abby’s staring at your lips.

“like i said, thought you knew. until you started getting so jealous over owen” and you open your mouth to deny the accusations before you realise there’s no point. also, abby likes you back. who cares if she knows you were jealous of owen? “even manny knew, said he could see it in my eyes and all. didn’t realise you’d be so oblivious-“

“abby, just shut up and kiss me again.” and abby grins at you one last time before leaning in, your lips so close they’re almost touching. she mumbles something against your mouth before pressing another kiss, this one much longer and less soft.

“yes, ma’am”

[bigbrotherlouis]

i would love to hear more about mcstrome 🫡

realistically i'm sure it's the age-old story of two kids end up in the same place and become best friends because of proximity and then once they leave being in each others' presence and grow up into adults that friendship fades away but there's still fondness there.

however fictionally? alexa play ribs by lorde

you are fifteen years old. you are fifteen years old and you have been drafted to a new team in a new city in a new country. you are the youngest person on your team and you are probably the best person on your team and you are eight hours from home, granted special exception to be drafted a year early into the OHL and you are proving yourself against boys two, three, four years older than you, but despite it all your team finishes almost dead last. you are rookie of the year.

you are sixteen years old. you are sixteen years old, and the second best player in the draft, the draft that should've been yours but wasn't, is coming to your team. you know him. you meet him in the summer and you're already friends, fast friends, and you've been dreaming about being teammates again. he talks fast and he's fiercely loyal and he keeps up with you on the ice and he reminds you of home. he is not your best friend yet but he will be. he invites you home during the summers and asks if you want to play street hockey with him. you come and you sit on the sidelines, already conscious of the worth of your body enough that you know this is not something you should be participating in. he doesn't care, though, captain of a team, yelling at mitch marner who is an awful goalie and keeps letting in goals, and winning that summer. you go to the beach together, pale and stretched out on the sand, and now you are best friends.

you are seventeen years old. you are seventeen years old and they have just named you the captain of your team. you're wearing the letter with pride but people are talking about you like you're the second coming of hockey jesus. they've been talking about you for a while now, but this feels like more. this feels heavy. you break your hand in a fight in november because you are, after all, still a teenage boy. you sit out and watch as your best friend lights up the ice. he is the best person out there when you're on the bench and it shows in the stats and the points. he can tell you all the stats and the points because he's good at remembering those. he says he can remember every single play he's ever made and honestly? you kind of believe him. the haunting specter of the draft covers your entire year, looming in the corners of your vision, colouring every interaction. you are good, and he is good, and there is no chance of being drafted together, no matter how much you secretly hope. the calendar is a countdown clock towards your end, but you make him promise you will stay best friends because you don't really know what you will do without him.

you are eighteen years old. you are eighteen years old and edmonton has already made your jersey even though the draft hasn't happened yet. the graveyard of first overalls and rumors of a curse after gretzky left. you're the next gretzky and you're the next coming of hockey jesus and the entire city is waiting for your salvation. he goes third. phoenix, which is the literal opposite of edmonton. you hang off of him the entire weekend before, realising that this is the crescendo. you will never be otters together again. there's little chance you'll even be teammates again, so you cling tight even as you're so breathlessly excited for the moment your name get called first. you trip off the stage in a jersey that doesn't quite fit right but has your name on the back, and quietly ask if you can watch this next pick before you go backstage. you twine yourselves in a hug when he follows behind and it feels awfully like a goodbye.

now.

you are eighteen years old. you are eighteen years old and your best friend is drafted number one overall. you always knew he was better. you always knew he was made for more, so it doesn't hurt. you're happy to follow in his footsteps because you are his best friend and nothing will ever change that. besides, third is still a good number. amazing, even. they send you back to erie but you expected that. no one makes it to the show unless they are exceptional or a team is desperate, and edmonton is both. he scores his first nhl point in his third game and you are named captain of the otters. life is good. he breaks his collarbone less than a month in, shattering his rookie dreams. he comes home to you, in erie, because no one else understands him like you do. no one knows how to manage him when he's broken and angry, but you have patience and a lot of love and loyalty. you lie in your big bed and take up most of the mattress, two grown boys in the dark, and you don't kiss him. you could, but you don't.

you are nineteen years old. you are nineteen years old and he is named captain of his nhl team, also at nineteen. he is the youngest captain in history. thirteen days later, you score your first point. a month after that, arizona sends you packing back to erie. this time it hurts. you were doing your best and it wasn't bad and your best friend is captain of the oilers and you are playing with your high school team again. they make you captain for the second year in a row, but it's not the oilers and it's not the coyotes, so does it actually fucking matter? you are determined to prove everyone wrong and so you drag your team to the memorial cup. you win and it feels like a fuck you and it is maybe the best moment of your goddamn life. your phone is quiet. you haven't had any texts from edmonton for months.

you are twenty years old. you are twenty years old and this is finally your goddamn year. except-- you go pointless in two games and arizona decides that's not good enough. you've aged out of the otters so you pack your bag for tuscon instead. you spend your winter bouncing between the nhl and the ahl, sometimes so fast it makes you sick. winter in the desert feels weird, feels barren. you lie on your floor under the a/c and deliberately do not think of the time you almost kissed your ex-best friend. he's your ex-best friend because he's got a new one up there, draisaitl who also went third but the year before you. he can keep up with him, even better than you can, because he's not being bounced up and down. you wonder if draisaitl ever wants to kiss him. you wonder if draisaitl ever has.

you are twenty one years old. you are twenty one years old and you are a draft bust. they've been calling you that for years but now they're right. arizona trades you to chicago for practically nothing, which is embarrassing, but it's alright because you've got an old otter, brinksy, there on your team. you're nothing special, but you're nothing bad either. if only you hadn't touched the hem of hockey jesus as a teenager. if only you hadn't known what greatness tastes like. when you face off against edmonton, he won't meet your eye. he slides out of the centre dot and draisaitl steps in and wins the draw.

you are twenty three years old. you are twenty three years old and you have a girlfriend now, a pretty one, and it's-- good. your team makes it to the weird-ass playoffs in august, because there's a pandemic now, and you get trapped in a hotel in edmonton. your girlfriend tells you that she's pregnant right before you leave, like right before, and you can barely care about anything else. you barely care that he is two floors below you and the last message in your texts was a happy birthday! three years ago. unimaginably, you knock him out of the playoffs on his home ice. in the handshake line, he offers you his palm and his eyes skate over you like you're a stranger.

you are twenty five years old. you are twenty five years old, and on yet another new team. that's good, though, even if he will always be so much better. your fiance asks if she should send an letter to an edmonton address and you hesitate. you are no longer friends anymore. you haven't been for years and years, even if you lie when the press ask. but you loved him, once. you loved him so much that you were part of him and he was part of you, and the teenager on a shared bed in the dark will not let you forget that. you put his name down on an envelope.

so.

you are twenty five years old. you are twenty five years old and a wedding invitation arrives at your front door. you slide your fingernail under the flap and freeze when you see the faces on the front. there's a secret you will never tell anyone, not even on your deathbed, but you think of it now. it takes up so much space in your lungs that you can barely breathe. and it hurts. your girlfriend, who you love very much finds you shredding paper into a wastebasket and asks if everything is alright. you lie. you can't imagine not lying and so she doesn't catch you at it. you tell her that you've always wanted to go to manchester, england. you tell her that you should plan a trip for the summer, and you end up on a plane to a different continent while your ex-best friend is getting married back home.

you are sixteen years old. you are sixteen years old and flat on your back at the beach, listening to the water lap up on shore. beside you, he drops to the ground to stretch out too, his bare arm pressing up against your own. it dawns on you, as consuming and as present as gravity, that you are in love with him. it dawns on you that maybe you always be.

you're the only friend i need / sharing beds like little kids / we'll laugh until our ribs get tough / but that will never be enough

[thebisexualdogdad]

The whip - Dick Grayson x Male!catwoman protégé reader

*Yoshi Sudarso used as a fancast*

It was the annual Wayne foundation charity gala, you and Dick showed up hand in hand in your nicest suits.

"Looking good boys," Bruce smiles at you when he passes by with Selina, your mentor, on his arm.

When they are out of earshot Dick leans in to whisper to you, "so exactly how long do we need to be here?"

"We can sneak out once the auction starts but be patient love because when we get home I'm going to tear that suit off of you and pound your ass so hard you can't walk right," you whisper back.

Dick gulps suddenly at a loss for words.

You grin and kiss his cheek, taking his hand and guiding him into the crowd of people to dance.

He's still dumbfounded when you put your hands on his waist and start to dance, "what's the matter Dick? Cat got your tongue?"

"You can't just say something like that and expect me not to be… distracted," he admits.

You lean in again and whisper, "well if you're good tonight boy wonder I might even bring my whip out to play."

"Is it time to go home yet?" Dick questions, his voice cracking, making you smile.

Two painful hours later Bruce finally takes the stage to thank everyone for coming and to get the auction started.

He finishes his speech while the first item hits the stage and Dick grabs your arm, "please tell me we can leave now?"

"Let's go," you reply and Dick is so relieved, the erection in his pants growing unbearable from you teasing him all night.

You barely make it home before Dick's lips start to explore your neck, carrying him through your apartment and to your bedroom.

You toss him down on your bed, undoing your tie and slipping your suit jacket off, slowly unbuttoning your shirt one button at a time.

"Please Y/N, I need you," Dick whines.

You smirk proudly, letting your shirt hit the ground as Dick stares at your bare torso in awe.

"Take your clothes off for me Dick," you order and he does as he is told, letting you grab his pants and tug them down his legs.

Once he's left in only his briefs you roughly flip him over so he's on his hands and knees, kissing the back of his thighs and slapping his ass.

Dick's hips are bucking, looking for any sort of contact as his cock is painfully restrained by his underwear.

He moans when he feels you tear his briefs apart from behind, tossing it to the ground and spreading his cheeks apart diving right in.

"Y/N!" He cries out, your tongue expertly working him.

You're massaging his cheeks, giving him the occasional smack as his back is arched in pleasure.

"You were very patient for me tonight baby, I think you deserve a reward," you say and Dick groans at the loss of contact but is also excited for his reward.

He looks over his shoulder, watching you go to the dresser and grab your whip from the top drawer.

It's bigger than your usual one and he shudders in anticipation, remembering you told him your whip was due for an upgrade and was going to purchase a new one with the money you made from a recent jewel heist with Selina but he certainly did not expect it to be that much longer and girthier than the last one.

"Fuck yes," Dick grunts but then his ass gets a sharp crack from your whip.

"Quiet," you demand, hitting him again this time on his back.

He bites down on his arm to muffle his moans, sweet pain coursing through him when you whip him for the third time.

"Look at that delicious ass of yours," you smirk, his skin turning bright red.

You give his ass two more cracks of your whip, Dick moaning loudly.

"Do you want me to fuck you Dick?" You ask but he's silent still following your order to be quiet so you give him another whip, "I asked you a question."

"Yes, yes please fuck me Y/N," he begs.

You give him one last hit to the back of his thighs before dropping your whip, removing your pants and stroking yourself as you get closer to him.

You rub his ass to soothe him but only for a moment as you position yourself behind him, pouring lube over your cock and harshly pushing it inside him.

He moans as you waste no time finding a steady rhythm, the whole bed shaking under you.

His body is covered in marks from your whip so you decide to scratch your sharp nails down his skin to leave even more.

You're absolutely railing him, Dicks eyes rolling back.

"I'm gonna cum," he mumbles, gripping the sheets tightly.

"Not until I do," you state, smacking his ass again.

He holds on, desperately waiting for you to fill him but it's nearly ten minutes later when you finally do.

Dick feels you cumming deep inside him, your pace never faltering and when he hears the words 'cum for me Dick' he lets go, seeing stars as he shoots cum all over the bed.

"Y/N!" He shouts again, so loud that surely your neighbors heard him, which wouldn't be the first time.

You held your promise, you made him cum two more times that night and he was not able to walk right when Tim called him for backup the next day.

"What's up with you?" Tim asks him as he hobbles across the roof of a building.

"Nothing, just took it a little too hard at the gym," he lies.

"Ha, is that what we're calling Y/N now? The gym," Jason snickers, "I saw you two sneaking out during the auction last night, I'm sure he did give it to you hard."

"Shut up Jay," Dick huffs, wincing as his suit rubs against his still sore ass.

[lemoncrushh]

The Entertainer - Track 06 - No Concern of Yours

Summary: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones, a young woman from L.A., meets Harry Styles, an up-and-coming musician and frontman for the band Wildfire. Told in first person from Sky’s point of view, she shares her journey and what it’s like to fall for a rockstar.

STORY PAGE

Track 06 Word Count: 2.8k

The week of studio time for Harry and his band turned into two weeks, and then three. I didn’t get to see him as often as I’d hoped. He came over a couple times after a long session, but never stayed the night. As the end of the third week neared, I felt myself starting to get restless. I would lie awake at night wondering what it was I was feeling. Despite the fact that we’d slept together, Harry and I hadn’t declared what we were. We weren’t really a couple, I didn’t think. And the more I pondered over it, the more I started feeling like it was exactly what Halo said she and Mitch were. Just sex.

One evening, when both Harry and Mitch had announced they were finally finished with recording, and their debut album was now in the mixing stage, the entire band came over for a night of beer drinking and cards. I don’t even remember what game we were playing. Neither my heart nor mind were in it, and for some reason I started accusing Harry of cheating. He thought it was funny though, like I was just teasing him. He laughed and came up behind me to tickle my sides, but I quickly pushed him away with my elbows.

“Stop it. Leave me alone.”

“What’s with you?” he asked, his brows furrowed.

“Nothing!” I spat.

I heard him curse under his breath as he walked past me to the kitchen for another beer.

“Hell yeah, turn that up!” exclaimed Lee as Thin Lizzy started to play through the little radio I kept on the counter.

“Tonight there’s gonna be a jailbreak…”

Walking by, Harry turned the knob, nodding his head to the beat, his lips puckered. Then he began to mime the guitar chords as Mitch did the same. I watched him for most of the song, my stomach doing a little flip until I quickly looked away and rose from my chair to get myself a beer. Popping off the cap, I took a few swigs, leaning against the fridge. Harry’s eyes met mine and he gave me a smile.

“Searchlight on my trail Tonight’s the night all systems fail Hey you good lookin’ female Come 'ere!”

Harry beckoned me with his finger and his eyebrows raised, but I didn’t budge. Instead, I took another long drink from my beer and returned to my seat next to Halo.

“Something going on I should know about?” she whispered in my ear.

“Nope. Nothing at all.”

Harry continued to stare at me, an easy smirk on his lips. When Deacon announced he was dealing for the next game, Harry took his chair to my right, straddled it and crossed his arms.

“So when’s the tour?” inquired Halo when all the cards were dealt.

“You guys are going on tour?” I widened my eyes.

“Damn right we are,” said Lee as he high-fived Deacon.

“We’re supposed to go on the road in a few weeks,” added Mitch. “Starting in San Francisco.”

“Ooh, can I come?” Halo ran her hand up Mitch’s chest, her face close to his, practically sitting in his lap. I caught Mitch’s grin just before Lee piped up again.

“No way.”

“What?” Halo looked offended.

“No girls on the road.”

“Who says?”

“We say.”

“Oh, you do?” Halo raised a brow at Lee, then looked back at Mitch for reassurance. He looked just as perplexed.

“Tell ‘em, Harry,” said Lee.

“Um…”

I sat back, folding my arms across my chest. I had to hear this.

“Why can’t we come, Harry?” asked Halo. “We love you guys. We know you guys. We’re your biggest supporters.”

Harry nodded, but said nothing. I had to hand it to Halo for saying “we.”

“Don’t you want me to come?” she pouted to Mitch.

“Yeah,” he grinned, pushing a strand of hair from her face.

“No,” Lee repeated. “Absolutely not!”

“C’mon, mate,” Harry finally spoke. “They’re not gonna get in the way. Let ‘em come.”

Not gonna get in the way? What was I, a toddler?

“Harry,” Deacon shook his head. “Remember the agreement?”

“There’s an agreement?” I asked.

“Yeah man, did you forget about Pippa?” added Lee.

“Pippa? Who’s Pippa?” My question was addressed to Harry, but no one seemed to hear me.

“I don’t think this is the same thing.” Harry shook his head.

“Isn’t it?” Lee looked from Harry to me, then back at him.

“You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about!”

“Yeah? You think we made the no girls on the road rule for the hell of it?”

“Look mate,” said Deacon. “I’m not saying these girls are like Pippa. It’s just…we decided on the agreement for a reason. That includes all girls.”

“Who the fuck is Pippa?!” I exclaimed.

Silence fell over the entire table, and everyone stared at me like I’d just walked into the room in the middle of a secret-telling. Lee and Deacon both blinked and turned to Harry who barely looked at me.

“Nobody,” he said softly. “It’s…it’s no concern of yours.”

“Gee, thanks.”

I took a long swig of my beer as Halo continued to argue that she was going on tour (or at least to as many shows as she could), and no one was going to stop her. Lee finally gave up, I suspected because he didn’t feel like listening to Halo anymore, and declared that we should finish the card game.

I felt Harry’s eyes on me a few times, but I didn’t dare look at him. I’d already felt some sort of frustration when the evening had started. Now I was full-on perturbed.

When the game was over (I think Deacon won), I got up to go to the bathroom. I spent a long time in there, not feeling like participating in the party in the living room. I could hear them all laughing, the prior conversation completely forgotten…to all but me.

Finally deciding to call it a day, I opened the door to find Harry standing next to it.

“Hey,” he said with a grin, his hands immediately grabbing my waist and pulling me to him. “You okay?”

I blinked, lowering my gaze to his chest where I pressed my own hands. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout what Lee and Deacon said. You can come if you want.”

“I can?” I doubted Harry detected the sarcasm in my tone.

“Yeah, you should.”

“I should?”

“Yeah. If you want to.”

I lifted my head, trying my best to read his face while also hoping to God he could read mine.

“Oi, mate, we’re headed out!” shouted Deacon from across the room. “You coming with?”

His arms still around me, Harry acknowledged his bandmate, then looked back at me.

“Am I coming with?”

I shrugged.

“Are you coming with?”

I shrugged again.

Sighing through his nose, Harry turned to Deacon. “Staying here, mate.”

“Right. So long.”

I watched Deacon and Lee leave, Mitch of course staying with Halo, the two of them remaining at the table in their own private lovers’ chat. When the door shut, I felt Harry’s hands run up and down my back as he lowered his head to my neck. I allowed him a moment as his lips touched my skin before I pulled back.

“Sky, you want some of this?” I heard Halo ask. I looked over to see her rolling a fresh joint.

“No, you guys go ahead. I’m gonna sit this one out.”

Loosening myself from Harry’s arms, I walked to the linen closet where I retrieved a set of clean sheets and a blanket and returned to the living room.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m about to go to bed,” I replied, not looking at him. “So I’m going ahead and getting the couch ready for you.”

I tucked the sheet into the cushions with determination, then I grabbed the pillow case, snapping it in the air to make sure there were no wrinkles (as though wrinkles on a pillow case even mattered), then slid it over the pillow.

“There you go,” I said, patting the pillow on one end of the sofa and pointing at the other. “Blanket’s right there.”

When I finally lifted my head, I saw Harry standing behind the couch, a look on his face that spoke volumes. He was confused, hurt and bewildered.

“Oh…um…thanks,” he muttered.

“Welcome. Goodnight,” I nodded, then walked to my bedroom and shut the door.

I could hear light chatter and music while I changed into my pajamas. I laid down on my bed and stared into the darkness as Nazareth serenaded me.

“Love is like a flame It burns you when it’s hot…”

Oh, shut up! I thought as I threw the covers over my head.

I tossed and turned for over an hour after the music had stopped. I knew Harry was in the other room wondering what the hell had happened. No doubt he’d intended on sleeping with me. That is, if I hadn’t been such a bitch to him.

I wasn’t sure what I was so upset about. Maybe I was hurt that Harry hadn’t defended Halo and me harder. Or maybe I was hurt that he wouldn’t tell me who Pippa was, and told me it was no concern of mine. Or maybe I was just upset that I hadn’t seen him hardly at all in three weeks and I’d missed him and it got the better of me.

I kicked the covers off and sat up, turning on my lamp and making my way slowly to my bedroom door before opening it. I stood just outside, stepping closer to the couch which Harry slept on, until finally stopping next to his feet. I could tell he was awake, just looking out the sliding glass door that led to the patio. He seemed to be in deep thought until I let out a long sigh which made him turn his head.

“Harry.”

“Yeah?”

I took another deep breath and let it out.

“Come to bed.”

I couldn’t quite make out his expression since it was dark, but I assumed it was a positive one since he sat up and dropped the blanket on the floor. Then he walked up to me and grazed his hand across my cheek.

“You sure?”

I nodded slowly, raising my hand to touch his wrist.

“Tell me what I did, love,” he said softly.

“You didn’t do anything. It’s all me.”

“I don’t understand.”

I rolled my eyes, though I was sure he couldn’t really tell in the dark.

“It’s stupid. Let’s just forget it, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry I acted the way I did tonight.”

“You’re forgiven.”

I took his hand then and turned for the bedroom. As I shut the door, Harry started to unbutton his shirt, then stopped.

“Um…do you mind?”

I shook my head and gave a gentle smile. “Not at all.”

Harry stripped down to his underwear as I climbed under the covers. Joining me, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him.

“Hi,” he grinned, his hairy thigh thrown across my smooth, freshly shaved one.

“Hi.”

“I missed you.”

I paused, licking my lips. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.”

Harry cocked a brow. “Did you miss me?”

“I saw you a few days ago.”

“That was almost a week ago, Sky. Six days to be exact, and for maybe twenty minutes.”

“Oh, so you’re counting?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Why are you being like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re trying your best to be angry with me, but you don’t really know why.”

I sighed. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

“I know.”

I scoffed, mostly to myself. I let my fingers travel up his arm to his shoulder, then down his chest.

“I missed you like crazy,” I whispered.

“What was that?”

“You heard me.”

Harry touched my cheek, making me lift my head. His eyes danced in the warm glow of the lamp light. He kissed me softly then and I melted.

“So how’s the album?” I asked when our lips separated. “You never told me.”

“Amazing. I’m in love with it.”

I beamed. “I can’t wait to hear it.”

“I can’t wait for you to hear it, either. I think you’ll like it. Actually, I know you will.”

“So exciting!”

Harry smiled at me, his eyes seeming to study my face.

“And I want you to come with me on the tour.”

“You do?”

Harry nodded. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

I shifted my gaze to his necklace. “Only if you meant it,” I muttered.

“I mean it.”

“Okay,” I grinned hesitantly.

Harry’s lips met my forehead and he kissed me reassuringly.

“Oh!” he exclaimed suddenly, making me jump. “I meant to tell you…we’re signing with new management.”

“Really? What happened with Leon?”

“It’s funny, actually. We had a sit down with him because we were thinking of cutting the ties. But he surprised us by announcing he’s moving back to London with his family. So he gave us some recommendations that he’d been in touch with.”

“Well, that worked out. Who are you signing with?”

“A bloke named Irving Azoff. He-“

“Harry!”

“What?”

“Irving Azoff! He manages the Eagles!”

Harry gave me a glorious smile and a squeeze. “I love that you know that.”

“Are you kidding me? That’s…this is huge! You’ll be so…” I covered my mouth to stop myself from saying the last word. “Sorry.”

“’s okay. I’m excited, too.”

“I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks.”

“Um…Harry?” I asked after he kissed me again.

“Yes?”

“Who is Pippa?”

I saw his neck tighten as he swallowed hard.

“She um…she was…my best friend’s girlfriend.”

“Oh.” I figured he meant Simon, but I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to know about him. “Mitch’s?”

“No,” he shook his head. “When…when I first joined the band, my best mate Simon was lead guitarist.”

“Oh.”

“He…he died last year.”

Even though Halo had already told me, it hit me harder hearing it from Harry. I touched his chest with my hand, just above his heart.

“I’m so sorry.”

Harry nodded, looking at me, but not really looking at me. His jaw was clenched and I could tell he was uncomfortable.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” I whispered.

Harry blinked slowly, focusing on my face. Then he sighed and licked his lips.

“Thanks. Maybe…some other time, yeah?”

“Of course.”

I was still curious what Pippa had to do with their no girls rule, but I was most certainly willing to let it go for the evening. I gave him a peck on the nose which made him smile.

“I have a question for you now,” he said.

“Oh God.”

“It’s a good one, don’t worry. I was thinking of it a couple days ago when I fell asleep with the radio on. I started wondering what songs you like to sleep to, or that make you relaxed.”

I smiled gently, happy that he’d thought of me, not only while he was away, but while he was listening to music.

“Well…” I began, “I don’t usually like to sleep with music on. I can’t. It’s too much of a distraction for me. I want to sing along, so I’d never get to sleep.”

“I can relate,” Harry chuckled.

“But I do have some songs I relax to.”

“Which are?”

Sucking in my lips, I pushed back the sheet and rolled off my side of the bed. Then I walked over to my turntable, turned it on, and sifted through my records. When I found what I was looking for, I put it on and let the needle fall.

“I’m being followed by a moonshadow Moonshadow, moonshadow”

“Mmmm,” I heard Harry sigh.

“Good one, huh?”

“Very.”

“And if I ever lose my mouth All my teeth, north and south Yes if I ever lose my mouth Oh if… I won’t have to talk…”

“That line always gets to me,” Harry commented.

“Me too.”

“Did it take long to find me I ask the faithful light Did it take long to find me And are you gonna stay the night…”

I sang the bridge and final chorus along with Cat Stevens, and when the record was over, I shut off my stereo and walked back around the bed.

“I like hearing you sing,” said Harry as he rolled over.

“You do?”

“Yeah, not only is it a pretty voice coming out of a pretty person…I like the joy it brings you. And that makes me happy.”

I grinned, looking into his beautiful eyes. “That’s a lovely thing to say.”

I kissed him that time, letting my tongue fill his mouth. He moaned against me, tangling his fingers in my hair. I rolled him over onto his back, but quickly separated the kiss. I heard him protest with a tiny pout as I reached over to turn off the lamp.

Songs mentioned:

Thin Lizzy - Jailbreak

Nazareth - Love Hurts

Cat Stevens - Moonshadow

Though just a single-scene chapter, this kicks off the rest of the story as well as raises some questions. Who the fuck is Pippa?! lol

[checkoutmybookshelf]

We're Back To UCMH!

I have been waiting for this book for literal months, and I am SO HAPPY that it is finally here. I'd have read it in one day, except that I got 1 hour of sleep in two days, so I did actually crash before getting to finish Halle and Henry's story. It was worth it though, because watching the dynamics between a neurodivergent-coded love interest and a demi-coded love interest was absolutely fascinating. I had so much fun with Halle and Henry, and it was nice to have Nate, Stassi, Russ, and Aurora around a little too. Like, the "adopted by a gang of hockey-playing golden retrievers" vibe that I loved from Icebreaker was still here, but we also get how Henry and Halle navigate a deeply gregarious group that loves them. Let's talk Daydream.

Hey, so this is your SPOILER WARNING because I'm going to SPOIL THE HECK out of this book. You were warned, proceed with caution.

Soooooooo...the fact that Henry DIDN'T take a swing at Will because he was so worried about how Halle would feel about a) what her dickhead ex-boyfriend said and b) about Henry's response just makes Henry the bigger man in so many ways, and that was just deeply satisfying to me as a reader. That and Halle letting her mom HAVE it because her mom has been using Halle as a third parent in the household since Halle was a kid. Hannah Grace has a knack for making character arc climaxes immensely satisfying and avoiding cliches, and I really appreciate that. I also loved how Halle and Henry both get climaxes that work WITH their character arcs. Halle learns to say no and prioritize herself, and Henry gets to BE himself and be loved and supported in his needs.

So I'm not neurodivergent, and I'm not always good at seeing it in books and book characters where it's not explicitly stated in the narrative, so I was grateful for the letter that my copy had about how there was explicitly NOT going to be a diagnosis. I will say I'd probably have caught it in Henry's case from the text and the context, but I appreciate the clarity and I also appreciate the opportunity taken to highlight that nobody needs a diagnosis to be valid or to explain their experiences and needs. Just the matter-of-fact acceptance Henry gets and the patience people in his life have to let Henry explain what he needs and then GIVING THAT TO HIM with no questions asked was lovely. I also love that it wasn't always perfect. People made mistakes in good faith when they were trying to help, and there cannot be enough good said about modeling communication, accepting new information, and doing better the next time.

Listening to and believing people when they tell you about their needs and experiences should not be groundbreaking, but holy crap do people still struggle with this, so I love that Henry never had to. He is surrounded by people who listen, hear, and support.

Which is extra nice narratively because Halle is not. Her dickhead ex-boyfriend is ten kinds of jerk, her family basically uses her as a stage manager/extra parent, and she was honestly super isolated and lonely before she got pulled into the house full of hockey playing golden retrievers (seriously, that wonderful lost keychain in a frat house tumblr post about how wonderful "boys will be boys" can be as a vibe when it isn't toxic absolutely applies here). I was never a Halle, but I have KNOWN Halles, and I cannot tell you how lovely it was to watch her learn how not to people please and to find herself in a girl squad that genuinely loved and valued her in addition to having Henry around. It was lovely and happy.

I also (and please feel free to correct me on this) read Halle as demisexual coded, and that's a dynamic that I'm not used to seeing in romance novels, but it was also one that I really enjoyed. It's never bad to reiterate that pressuring someone to do something they're not ready for or don't want to in bed is SUPER BAD, ACTUALLY, and that that behavior includes bullshit like trying to enforce arbitrary timelines or calling someone cold for not wanting sex. Also, asexual spectrum identities are entirely valid, and deserve more representation in romance.

Overall though, the thing that made this book for me was Halle and Henry's communication. They're really good at the communication thing and they're really good at BEING together, which does not mean sex, it means that they are good at existing in the same space while being aware and accommodating of each other's preferences, needs, and boundaries. AND THEY HAVE FRIEND SQUADS FOR SUPPORT. Because it is normal and healthy (and often hilarious) to have multiple sources of support in addition to your partner. I adore that Henry and Halle have that, and the side characters (both new ones and ones we know from other books) are still wonderful.

Other things I adored in this book in no particular order:

Henry being a fine arts major. That was such a fun alternative side to an MMC after Nate and Russ were SO sports-focused. Henry having that extra dimension was great.

Halle being a writer. This is very much a "ooh, it me!" moment, so your mileage may vary, but I do love me a writer character. (Yes, this is why I still have a deeply soft spot in my heart for Rick Castle. No, nobody asked. You just know this now.)

Henry being so worried about Halle being sick that he takes her home to his mother who is a literal doctor. Henry was correct, Halle needed to take care of herself, and honestly, this was the sweetest thing.

Halle getting to have her girl squad preparatory periods. As someone who also used to adore getting ready for stuff with her girl squad, there is something really wonderful about this dynamic, and it was a treat to see Halle get to experience it.

The sex painting. I was not expecting to do anything but roll my eyes at this scene, but actually? It was well handled, it was cute, it made sense in the context of their characters, and y'know what? Sure. The book not self-cringing at this also helped, and I was willing to let these two adorable college kids have their fun and make some art together.

Henry's gift giving. I am a Halle, I am SO BAD at gifting, but I appreciate the skill in others. And Henry NAILED it. A+, no notes.

Halle admitting to Gianna that she wasn't sorry she and Will broke up. That was big for Halle personally, and hot damn did it model something important to her little sister. Just excellent.

I had a delightful time with this book overall, and I'll be sad to leave Maple Hills. If we are lucky, there will be more Hannah Grace books in the future though!

[moss-bride]

You make me want to believe in love: chapter 13

The ball

Anguish and her positive attitude rise as the date nears until finally it's today and she's beaming with an unnatural levity. Layering diamond rings and bracelets to her fingers and spending hours at the mirror.

It's off-putting to witness her demeanor change to a more happy demeanor. He tells her it's because he hasn't hunted in a long time. To which she restrains the urge to snap that it is her being hunted as a form of entertainment 

Nerves eat her alive. Like thousands of fire ants under her skin, swarming into her toes. No amount of makeup and assisting maids can ease the awareness that comes with traversing outside the Palace of sorrows. 

It especially rears its head when They finish her off and  plop the ears on her head along with a sewn belt to mimic a cotton ball tail. The fur is white and pairing with her flowing fabric.

They are assured together on a carriage, carried to their destination, looking out the window there is no one in the streets, which is unusual. Where are the drunken dogs of the street?

As they arrive, interlocking arms Anguish assures her like he always does when they traverse the city together. “I'll be right here at your side, agent do not worry.”

Her jaw clenches and she nods. Reminding herself that if her plan for today works this will be the last time she is put on the for him.

The once sterile environment that was White's home is decorated in a way to give a Romantic air. Perfume so harsh she can taste the lily of the valleys that reside on each table. 

Many guests linger at the doorway playing a round of pool and having a laugh. Trumpets announce their arrival and announcer shouts with multiple mouths. “Our Lord the first stage, mistress of misery and count of sorrow!”

The people clap and whistle as they join them. Demons, that they are. And she is a mortal burning in their midst with the devil holding her arm. 

It's difficult not to bump into other bodies. She tries not to step on anyone's trail- or tail for that matter.

She casts her gaze above the crowd and on the third floor. Reserved for those guests of higher rank, plopped there on those fancy thrones are the three lords. “Your friends are here.” 

“Indeed they are, let's go greet them.” he fixes his collar. She grips his arm tighter as they turn to watch them approach. Yellow leans over to whisper into Red's ear and he laughs in response. What's so funny? She doesn't want to know.

The clink of glass cups and shuffle of voices enjoying themselves. “You made it! Me and Yellow weren't sure if our choosing your lover would turn you off the whole party. “

“How could she refuse such an honor? It'll be funny. Plus I doubt any of you will be able to catch her. She's a fast runner.”

Red turns to question her. “Oh?”

“I placed first place in a track team in college.” she says 

Yellow reaches down from her incredible height to brush away a strand of hair from her cheek without asking for permission. He twirls her rabbit head band between his golden fingers.

Yellow adds. “Even more tantalizing. A real challenge.”

Red undoes her braid and plucks them out of the tie. They pet and coo from above. Ruffling the hem of her sleeves. Undoing Giorgia’s hard work.

“It looks just as good as I thought. Though you should have kept the screws in. Wouldn't want it to fall off. ” White nods in agreement. 

Black nudges her sharply, jolting her whole body with his kick. She forces a bright voice. “Thank you.”

Yellow says to Anguish, hands still buried deep at the roots of her scalp. “You spend too much time up in your tower. We were debating who would drag you out.”

The four share a chuckle.

The king is wrapped in a glass chamber able to see all the happenings. Yet those with him are subdued and little in number. 

When she was a young girl her family had birthday parties inviting the entire neighborhood. The celebrations would dissolve into people drinking heavily onto daybreak and there would always be a room chosen to put sleeping infants in (often it would be her bed) the adults would carry on.

He is said infant in this analogy.

She bows her head and does a curtsey . Mentally departing from the conversation. Just standing there waiting in boredom for them to finish the discussion.

Anguish interrupts them. “If you'd excuse us, “ 

He smooths down her hair from the mess they made. “Cara mia? A dance?”

[coolbeanzeaglbones]

One shot for these.

The one shot is happening….based off a fanart contest.

So, this was it. Chainsaw’s last show and he wasn’t even gonna play. He was just gonna watch from the sidelines of the stage. He liked the new guy was… a bit of a klutz. It was fine though, Chainsaw was ready to advance his lumber business and, although it meant losing a band, they were still friends.

They were watching the opening band, some crappy emo punk rock guys. The commander didn’t have a problem other than the fact that they were rude as heck to his band. The bats didn’t take it bad, but it was still rude.

The band was finished and they passed over to the stage to the Aquabats. Chainsaw nearly went out with them before remembering that he wasn’t supposed to.

He was a bit concerned about the fact that the commander was telling the new guitarist to stand on the riser and do a solo during ‘look at me (I’m a winner)’ that wasn’t there before. It wasn’t like he doubted eaglebones’ ability, but he was pretty clumsy.

Chainsaw has seen him trip over his feet multiple times on stage before righting himself. The punk band was standing next to Chainsaw as he watched the bats play, “Hey,” he elbowed the lead singer to get his attention, “I bet you five bucks he’s gonna fall off the riser.” He said, holding his hand out to shake. The lead singer contemplated, “Ha, you’re on.” He shook Chainsaw’s hand.

The show went on until look at me (I’m a winner) came up, it was the third song so it came up fairly quickly. For a second, it looked like it would be fine… that is until it wasn’t. Eaglebones caught his foot on something on the riser and stumbled forward so hard he fell off the riser and scorpioned so hard that his feet touched his head. Oof, Chainsaw felt bad for the kid.

The concert stopped and the commander smiled awkwardly at the audience, “D-don’t worry kids! This is part of the show.” He said before turning to eaglebones, “You okay Bonesy?” He asked, thinking that it wasn’t being broadcast to the audience. He helped him sit up against the riser, recoiling at the blood that was coming out from both nostrils of his nose, “I think think I broke my back.” Eaglebones’ voice was tight with pain as he moved his hand to block the blood flow. Ricky was looking over his drum kit, a worried expression on his face, “Um,” the commander turned to the crowd, a tight smile on his face, “and this is the part in the show where we switch guitarists! Very special, my what a lucky audience you guys are tonight.” He laughed before turning to Chainsaw, “Chainsaw, get out here!” He whisper yelled, gesturing him over.

Crash and Jimmy grabbed eaglebones gently by his arms and helped him walk off stage. He was hunched over in pain, whimpering ever so a slightly, “Careful, carefully Crash.” They set him down against the wall. He groaned slightly as they set him down, “Ow, that was a bad plan.” He said through gritted teeth, forcing comedy into his voice. Crash laughed, “Yeah, the commander usually has those, stay there until someone comes to get you.”

“I don’t think I can move enough to go anywhere else.”

The rest of the concert went smoothly, certainly a great last show for a great lead guitarist, the commander thought as they all stepped into the battletram. Apparently, one of the stagehands had been kind enough to help eaglebones to the battletram, “Did that hurt?” Ricky asked, sitting down on the couch next to eaglebones, “Yeah, the guy said I sprained my back, I’m fine now, they gave me, like, three painkillers, so I’m fine, they gave me a heating pad.” His voice was groggy and misty, his nose looked tender, like it had just stopped bleeding and was going to smart like hell tomorrow.

Yes, certainly one hell of a last gig, certainly one to remember, Chainsaw thought fondly.

[haveievermentioned]

So, I saw some people talking about how Sam lake was pulled aside after the game awards from some promotional stuff and thought it was for DBD. I don't think it was, as those licenses take longer than a month to settle. I think it was Halloween Horror Nights.

October through January is when they really start planning for next year. Sam Lake and other Remedy Talent (INCLUDING Alan's face and voice actor, and possibly Saga's? I can't remember if she was there or not) would be in one place in the US and it would be really easy for Universal to send someone over to talk to them. In addition, in late October is when Alan started getting really talked about as a good game, stood on it's own two feet, and was specifically being talked about as a HORROR game in HORROR circles. I don't think Alan will be as talked about next year, compared to how Resident Evil is a bit more Evergreen. (Also, considering how much Remedy loves Mixed Media, taking Alan into the physical space would be something they would at least consider) So, assuming it's A) Happening and B) Alan Wake 2, I'd like to talk about how a house could be planned out. I'm picturing the Orlando Parade building or Soundstage, but mostly the Parade Buildings, like where The Last of Us was last year)

the Queue. This one I think will need a little more going on as Alan Wake has a more involved narrative than other horror games. So, I think it can go as either one of two ways. Either A) You film (and project) a full episode of The Inbetween with Mr. Door where Alan, Mr. Door, and possible other characters do a full talk show where they recap the first game, explain the narrative structure, Alan's powers, Zane, Taken/TDP, etc. (with possible Old Gods songs mixing it up. They were there at the TGA too!) OR B) Reuse footage of Alan typing and have Matthew Poretta do the recap in first person. This one is less complicated, but also... just Alan typing can be boring if you are watching it for 20 to 150 minutes. C) Small chance it's a reworked episode of "Night Springs" And the set up is Alan hijacks it to tell his story.

The first room: It's the Talk show with Mr. Door either way. He'll do an intro like he does on the TV screens, Saga gets mentioned here if she isn't already, same with Alex Casey. He'll finish off with like "Let's get started!" or "We got a good show!" If you've been to the Orlando version, picture it like the opening room of Bugs! It's 30 seconds, He's in the center, little to no scares. I also think that Alan can use the manuscripts to narrate relevant bits between the scenes. (Why Saga or Alan are there, Why Alan is facing down Mr. Scratch, etc) Ahti can also provide directions. Kosekela brothers can play in the background of some of these scenes, etc. I won't put them in in general, but assume they are there for flavor text, I'm just planning a hypothetical house set up. In addition, all Jump scares will be Taken, as they have a physical form. Shadow forms can be used on the walls of Alan's scenes, but they can't interact with guests.

Second room, Saga's entrance. Low scares, I'm thinking her holding the manuscript page and telling Casey it's about them before they get jumped by a taken. It's in the middle of the woods, possibly by the lake.

Third room: Alan's first murder site, the Tunnels. They can reuse the train cars from previous years pretty easily, and have Alan trying to get out and asking help.

Fourth Room: Saga at Coffee world! There is so much creepiness to use here, and they can reuse stuff from like Carnival Graveyard. Taken will of course attack here.

Fifth Room: Alan meeting Zane at the Hotel. Zane can be used for quiet a few jump scares and the Hotel room would be a fun place to put together.

Sixth Room: Staying with Alan, we are now at the Ballroom scene. They could probably rig up lighting to switch the room set up pretty quickly, play some screams, have Alan be confused on the stage as more Taken try to jump out.

Seventh Room: Saga fighting Cynthia

Eighth Room: Alan at Poet's Cinema. Have Yoton Yo play on screen as the Taken attack from the other seats. Alan can be on stage, or fighting them off as a distraction.

Ninth Room: Saga, and Alex, in the Bright Falls sheriff station.

Tenth Room: Dark Ocean Summoning! The Old Gods finally appear, we get a huge scene, lots of taken jump scares, Saga shooting at them, Cauldron Lake, projections, storm effects, come on, it would be awesome.

Eleventh Room: Scratch!Casey charging Saga and Alan or charging at us in the writer's room.

Leaving: I think the final Scare would be Scratch again, though I'm not sure if it would be Casey or the Proper Mr. Scratch. I think American Nightmare Mr. Scratch with an Axe would be fun, this is just a final scare with him jumping out from behind the curtain. Bonus! The TV commercial. They've been doing this "Group of friends getting picked off at HHN" the last few years so I think what it could be is the one friend in this case is wandering around and hears Herald of Darkness. As he goes forward, his foot crushes a manuscript page. He picks it up, and we hear Matthew Poretta narrating it, where it describes his actions... and how he is about to die. Cue a Taken or MAYBE Mr. Scratch chasing him. (They don't like using the actors in these commercials, but the Taken are a bit too generic, where as either Mr. Scratch or normal Scratch at least looks like a real problem) Anyway, that's my thoughts. What do you think?

[hxneyfarm]

serotonin machine broke. here's 600 words of wedding planner steve and wedding singer eddie.

“So what do you think?”

When he first started in this industry a decade ago, as a bright eyed and bushy tailed twenty-something who still believed love could conquer all, Steve would have never entertained a game like this. 

The reception hall is a glistening wonderland of whites and blues. The ice sculpture in the corner - two swans whose necks form a perfect heart and whose beaks meet in the middle to share a kiss - frames the cake and the snowglobe topper just like Steve had envisioned it would. The centerpieces that adorn the tables glitter beneath the chandeliers like freshly fallen snow. There are no screaming children, none of the guests are wearing white, and the ceremony had gone off without a hitch.

Overall, a perfect night. 

Of course it is. Steve planned it. He’s very good at what he does.

The maid of honor is giving a speech.

Steve is at the bar with the wedding singer, a guy whose name constantly escapes him until the happy couple he’s working with tell him they’d like a live band for the wedding, and then it’s I know the perfect group, let me give you Eddie’s contact information.

This is something they do sometimes when they work a wedding together; speculate on the destiny of the couple at the center of this whole ostentatious shindig.

“Give ‘em a few years, I think,” Steve says with a shrug, still surveying the fruits of his labors. 

Eddie makes a considering noise. “That long? Awful optimistic, even for you.”

Steve shrugs. “They seem pretty in tune with each other. Support each other’s ideas. They agreed on the cake without even having to discuss it. He was involved from the beginning.”

“I sense a but here.”

Steve sucks at his mixed drink through the shitty little plastic straw.

“I clocked the way he and the best man have been looking at each other all night.”

Eddie clicks his tongue, takes a deep pull from his glass of light beer.

“Maybe he’s trying to find them a third for their wedding night,” Eddie suggests.

“Kinky.”

Over the past few years, Steve’s become disillusioned with it. The whole thing. He can count on one hand the number of couples he’s planned weddings for that are still together. Love doesn’t conquer anything, no matter how much money you throw at it to make it just right. People cheat, people are dishonest, people get themselves into debt and hide it from their partner.

He used to be a real hopeless romantic in his early days, but something about this industry has dulled that fire in him.

Robin says he’s become a cynic. Maybe that’s true. Maybe it’s just the institution of marriage. He doesn’t buy into it anymore. He’s watched enough marriages come together and fall apart, he’s seen fights happen at receptions, watched brides weep into their champagne, watched grooms shove cake into brides’ faces even after explicitly being begged not to. People just don’t care about each other like they should when they make the decision to get married. They don’t take it seriously.

Steve’s never going to let himself go down that road.

Robin says he wouldn’t know true love if it came up and bit him on the ass.

He doesn’t even know if he believes in love anymore.

Beside him, the wedding singer is sighing and knocking back the last of his beer. At the head table, the best man is finishing his speech. The groom is hugging him. They linger.

“I give it four months,” says Eddie. “Six on the outside.”

Steve looks over at him. Big brown eyes smile back. Eddie winks and goes back to the stage, where his band is waiting for his return. 

Steve watches as he picks his guitar back up and offers up some scripted line about the sweetness of love, calls a toast to the bride and groom, and then he launches into the opening chords of some Marvin Gaye song he’s played at every wedding they’ve worked together.

[transmogrified-in-the-void]

Chapter 2: Diminish the Chord

Virtue follows Guitar Guy out, and they strike a deal that changes the fate of the world. Or, at least, their lives.

As Guitar Guy starts to finish up his set, Virtue begins their move towards the stage. He strums the last chord with a small smile on his face. Some of the brown hair on his forehead is sticking from the ambient heat of the bar, and he moves it back before leaning into the mic.

“Thank you all for listening tonight.” There’s a few whoops from the crowd, and his smile gets a little bigger. “I’m Cato, here every Tuesday and Thursday, have a good night.”

Guitar Guy, Cato, turns off his mic and starts to put his few pieces of equipment away. Virtue steps up next to him, and helps him. 

“So, Cato.” They start, and Cato hums slightly as he closes the guitar case. “I first want to apologize about Absinthe earlier. She’s very insistent when she wants to be, and forgets what it means to be polite at times.”

Cato hums again, standing up and stretching. “So that’s her name.”

Virtue wants to shake the neon singer until she reassembles sense in her brain. “It is.”

There’s a huff of a laugh, and he turns to face Virtue. He’s shorter than them, but not by much, with light brown eyes and hair to match. He grins up at them with his packed equipment in his hands.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed the set. I need to put these in the car, if you don’t mind-” He starts to move past Virtue, and they follow beside him.

“It was really good. You’re very talented, clearly.” Virtue says as they move out of the band, and they can feel the band’s eyes watching their exit. “Actually, we wanted to talk to you after you finished up.”

Cato puts the guitar case down while unlocking the back of an old car. “I’m not interested in a record deal.”

“It’s not a record deal.” Virtue watches him put everything in the trunk, and refuses to flinch when he slams the door shut and spins around in their face.

“You,” Cato points at Virtue with narrowed eyes, “are a manager. I can tell from the way you watched me in the bar, and how you followed me out. So let’s drop the shit and listen to me when I tell you I’m not interested.”

It’s Virtue’s turn to hum. “Fair enough, you don’t want that. Great news, I’m not affiliated with any sort of record company so that’s not really a thing I can offer. I am, though, a band manager. Absinthe is the lead singer of that band, and took a real shine to your guitar playing abilities. Which is good, seeing as how we’re short of one, and nobody likes everyone else who tried out to be a replacement.”

Cato’s eyes narrow further, and a scowl starts to pull at his mouth. “I’m a solo act.”

“Clearly.” Virtue almost smirks at him, but has enough forethought to not. Cato’s already surly and defensive, no need to give him more reason to pull away. “But if you want to continue to get better at your craft I’d suggest you talk to people going further in the industry, even if that’s not what you want to do. Especially Absinthe. For all her outward airheadedness, she’s incredibly musically competent.”

Cato continues to scowl, but he looks off into Virtue’s shoulder, deep in thought. “I’ll talk to them, but only about that.”

“Absinthe might try and recruit you anyways, but it’s your choice at the end of the day.”

Cato and Virtue walk back into the bar, and Virtue notices that Airael is sitting in Gemini’s lap, with Gemini’s head popping out underneath her girlfriend’s arm. There’s two empty fry baskets, with Absinthe holding the last of a third in her hand.

“No, you guys don’t get it at all. Malcolm’s my only sibling. Rae, you’re an only child, and Gem, you’re the middle child of twelve.” Absinthe points fries at both of them, and then shoves said fries into her mouth.

“I just don’t understand why you call him every night.” Gemini groans. “He’s not a kid, Sin.”

There’s an uncomfortably familiar shadow that falls over Absinthe’s eyes, and Virtue steps in between the two and picks up the fry baskets. “I think that’s enough on the taters, kids. You’re barely legal, lay off.”

The shadow disappears, and Absinthe giggles. “I’m 23, V, I think I can handle a few fries. Maybe even some tots.”

“Liar!” Airael sings from Gemini’s lap, and Absinthe flips him off. “V, she had one tot and started getting sleepy!”

He yelps as Gemini pinches his side. “Shut up you two, we have a guest.”

Everyone turns to see Cato, who’d been awkwardly watching the argument go on from behind Virtue. Absinthe looks at Virtue with teary eyes, and Virtue smiles at her.

‘Thank me later.’ They mouth, and Absinthe nods.

Virtue carefully stacks the fry baskets up, and sits down on the other side of the table. Airael offers his seat to Cato, and the talk officially begins.

“So,” Cato starts. “My name’s Cato. And so we’re clear, I’m not here to join your band or whatever.”

“Why not?”

Absinthe’s question takes him off guard from the way he startles and stares at her. Or maybe it’s the fact that she asked it with no judgment, or the way she leaned in with clear interest in the answer. It’s not clear, Cato clearly thought she’d be a lot more belligerent. Which is understandable.

“I, uh, I don’t really want to be a part of a band.” He stammers, and flinches when Gemini grabs a hold of Airael and leans forwards with a vicious smile.

“Is it because you’re comfortable in this little solo act, or you think you’d disappoint everyone by not being up to our standards?” She asks, and Cato clearly bristles. Airael’s arms go around Gemini’s, and Absinthe moves so her body is facing away from the table.

“I don’t think band life is one that I’d be happy with. Especially touring, if you guys end up doing that. I like the place I’m in now.”

“You won’t know if you don’t try.” Airael puts in, and Absinthe nods. 

“Exactly. Look, Cato, I really think you’d be a good fit, more than you’d expect. Don’t ask how I came to that conclusion, that’s a band secret, but I do know that you’re not only talented, but adaptable. If you’d be down, I want you to come to a few practices, try it out. If it feels right, join the band and go on our tour with us. If after the tour you’re out, we’ll just get another guitarist. But I really want you to try it.”

It’s always mesmerizing for Virtue to watch Absinthe switch from Public Absinthe to Professional Absinthe. In all honesty, they have no idea how she does it. It could be because of the Malcolm situation a few months ago, but they’ll never know for sure.

“So if you did all those tryouts, why me?” Cato’s eyebrows are furrowed in intense confusion. “That makes no sense.”

“I’m with you on that one.” Virtue mutters, and Airael kicks them from under the table. 

“They don’t fit. It wouldn’t work right.” Absinthe answers. “I’m willing to settle if I have to, but I’m a perfectionist when it comes to the fit of BI.”

Cato does a double take, and Virtue wants to slam their head into the table. Nobody told him what the name of the fucking band is.

“They named the band Bardic Inspiration, BI for short.” Virtue cuts in, and Cato covers his face.

“I think you’re the fit.” Absinthe adds, and Cato groans into his hands.

Everyone looks at each other as the brunet sits still at the table. ‘Is he okay?’ Gemini mouths, and Virtue shrugs. 

“Fine.” Cato’s muffled voice comes out. “I’ll do the test trial.”

Absinthe cheers and stands up. “You won’t regret this! I’ll text you the details!” And she skips out of the bar. Virtue scribbles their name and number onto a napkin and slides it to Cato.

“You’ll get used to it, if you stay.” Virtue smiles as they stand up. Gemini and Airael are already following after Airael, leaving just Cato sitting down.

“If you say so.” He murmurs while staring at the door.

First chapter

[memento-morri-writes]

tis i the crit role anon 🙏

hey morri! i’m kind of the reverse of you where i’ve seen all of c3 (all of it to date i suppose), but none of c2! i am enjoying the overlap the first two campaigns have had with the third, tho i definitely don’t have a ton of context to the second!

tell me more about why you love it so much! what sticks out to you about the style, defining moments, the characters? who’s your favourite if you can pick just one? why were you drawn to that campaign over the other two?

if i had to guess i think my fav pc would be caleb, im a huge fan of vax and orym. liams characters in general haha

also i have to ask have you watched tlovm?

HI ANON!!!!! I'm so glad you came back and gave me a chance to ramble about this silly little show that I love so much.

This is extremely long, so I'm putting it under the cut to spare people's dashes.

So, campaign two is very near and dear to my heart. It's the first campaign I watched (and the only one I've finished), and it's (in part) what got me into dnd in the first place.

I mean, it really is everything I could ever want from a dnd show. The characters are amazing, the plot is excellent, there's the right mix of shenanigans and sincerity. Okay, yes, all of crit role has those things, but c2 knocks it out of the park.

Like, c1 is a bit more of your typical hero's journey. You have these people who start out rather ordinary, and end up rising to extreme heights, saving the world and gaining a lot of power as they do so. These people are also (generally) pretty good and righteous people. Which isn't bad!!!!!!!! I love c1 a lot! (I would kill and die for Vax, which explains why I've been procrastinating finishing, lmao.)

But c2 is more my style when it comes to characters. A bunch of fucked-up misfits who become an extremely dysfunctional but loving family, and semi-accidentally save the world while they're at it. Idk, there's something about the fact that the Mighty Nein don't start out to be heroes, don't intend to be heroes, that really really endears me to them. A fair amount of what they do is for not necessarily self-serving, but personal reasons. They fuck up sometimes, and it's great.

Also, TMN are just so much more chaotic than Vox Machina. I mean, it's to be expected when you have such chaotic characters as Nott and Jester in one party, plus everyone else.

As for defining moments, there's literally too many to list. I could sit here and talk about c2 for hours. But I will say that near the end of Episode 7 was where I well and truly knew that there was no going back, and that my life had been changed. (A lot of good things there, but the Molly+Caleb bit is what did me in, I think.)

Other top faves include (in no particular order) literally the entire pirate arc (but esp the fight on the ship in Darktow and the yuan-ti temple), Yasha's pit fight (I literally wrote a mini essay about it on my personal blog bc it made me so emotional), any time Essek is there (for both feels and laughs), Caduceus's speech in Dinner With The Devil, Jester and Nott fucking up that one temple (just because it made me laugh so hard I stopped making noise for like 10 minutes straight), any time Beau and Caleb interact, THE FIRST TIME THEY SEE THE NEIN-SIDED TOWER, the Lucien/Jester tarot reading, the Lucien fight (all stages of it), Fjord throwing his sword into lava, any of the times they polymorphed large monsters into turtles (giant -> snapping turtle or the turtle on ice), the time they got banned from two libraries in less than 20 minutes...

As you can see, I could go on for hours. And yes, if you're a Liam character fan, Caleb will be your favorite. Caleb is also my favorite critical role character of all time ever, and I'm so obsessed with this man it's unreal. Like, autistic (to me) sad wizard man who loves his cat, has so much trauma, and is played by Liam O'Brien??? Obviously going to be my fave.

As for why I started with c2 over c1, I'm not actually sure. I think it was on the recommendation of some friends and my cousin, because the beginning is more polished than that of c1, and in their opinions it was the best campaign (I'm inclined to agree. No other crit role campaign will ever top it).

I have not watch tlovm yet, but I plan on getting around to it someday. Unfortunately for me, I am very very very very bad at finishing tv shows. It's basically either I finish it at an insanely fast pace (ie all 141 episodes of c2 in ~6 months, or all 38 episodes of Black Sails in just over 2 weeks), or I never finish it at all. Someday I will get my shit together and watch tlovm, though.

Actually, I happen to have a little art wall at my mom's house that is mostly Mighty Nein art. I don't have everyone yet, just Jester, Yasha, Caleb, and Essek, but I'd love to get the full party up there someday. Sadly I don't have any good pictures of it.

[vermanaward]

liveblogged pll 81 thoughts

mnk ranged attack finally, all it took was a third gauge bar

rip nin huiton (which. tbh with mnk greased lightning being collapsed into a trait doesn't surprise me. i wonder if they're nuking the sam buff dependence too)

Oh Boy another finisher to squeeze in under pots. at least the animation upgrade for jolt looks cool. and it seems accel is still mini swift

picto looks like it could be interesting, gameplay wise. i was kind of expecting a sticker collecter/user since we don't have a caster one of those yet but.

sch gets an enshroud [eyes emoji]

whm gap closer on temperance is interesting decision. i want to guess it's like icarus (maybe icarus will also get an upgrade to match it? idk)

looks like the tank gap closers are being unified/losing damage, which is v nice

id rather they just mailed everyone a fanta but if its a per quest thing then maybe all characters will get a bonus fanta, not just new ones. or maybe they will move the arr fanta there for new toons, in which case rip.

i do like the cooldown period though, means i can change voices and test in a ds dungon to see if i hate it actually

the optional combo collapser is nice, especially for controller players

atonement 2 and atonemnet 3 should break up the spam but. still gotta put an F in chat for people maining pld

rip blood weapon but at the same time its like. you're pressing it with delirium anyway so it's whatever

a fray combo/finisher is making me [eyes emoji] but i dont expect anything much

lmao the new gnb skill/combo is lionheart. ofc it is. 'whatever' intensifies

feint and second wind buff is nice. there seems to be quite a few universal defensive buffs in the 90s. sorta sucks that they won't apply at lower levels but i kinda get why (ultimate balance mostly)

oh no they've gutted mnk

the chakra changes are good but MAN. rip buff and dot upkeep which. i get a lot of people found hard or offputing but. skill issue. read your tooltips its not hard. idk i found it fun about mnk but i never played it in anything remotely Effort requiring so take that as you will

they removed spineshatter????? QQ

plentiful harvest is. it's skill issue?? same with manafic on rdm. which they're also going to change. fml

actually that would track with the trailer as well. oh well

you probably should not be using movement tools in enshroud, but. the harpe upgrade looks cool nonetheless i guess?

new rpr burst tech unlocked - nooming around like you're a smn

or pre enshourld in/eg > eg/in > enshroud > harpe > normal burst [thinking emoji]

vpr seems. hm. reminds me a bit of dnc tbh. no thoughts head empty press glowy butan (don't overwrite your procs, use everything)

they're trying to say It's Quite Deep Actually but. idunno i will reserve judgement

chat: so wait you remove mnk 'having to' watch their buffs to see what to use next, but add it to vpr? devs: uh well we added a ui element to tell you what the crack is without having to squint at the bar so. so why could you not have added that to mnk. you gutted mnk for vpr. actually mad

brd changes seem v nice (i say as someone who loathes playing brd)

oh barrel stabiliser is getting the harvest treatment too. i guess im speedrunning the stages of grief here

..drill charges (plus the new tool? tools for fuckin days)

standard step without having to do step actions? hUH????? DETAILS.

media tour leaks cant come soon enough

fuck yeah swift buff

rip blm mp tick tech

this absolutely a potshot at nonstandard and blms nowhere will stop doing nonstandard

moving ley lines was a MEME. a JOKE. (but for qol i get it its nice congrats blms)

[donkey kong meme] you can move your ley lines... Once

solar bahamut, huh. i think lunar looked better tbh. i don't expect any lore relating to this, but

alexander when

w8 does this mean smn has three major primals now? 4 minute rotation, inch resting

smn rez not dead. status of physic currently unknown

"just like we said last time, we're thinking about removing rez next time, please look forward to it"

one thing i guess i do potentially like about this manafic change is that you can aoe combo right away (since 3x aoe combo requires 60/60, meaning you need to build mana before manafic)

oh shit they're also changing the aoe combo to 50/50 as well. nice!!

idk how i feel about all of these 'when u use ur raid buff you get an additional ability to use'. feels like button bloat

picto looks like it could be interesting.

it has a non targeted dash!!!

MADUIN!!!!

i guess if i have concerns, it's that. moogle and madeen are the only creatures, etc, so there's not much. variety. but the same is true of like nin mudras, smn primals, etc

instant casts during your raid buff is nice. it seems they are really trying to incentivise people to fucking press their buttons lmao

oh okay the whm gapclose is not on temperance

seraph enshroud 👀

another post raidbuff attack. lol. lmao even

no rng cards is nice. it sounds like cards have had a pretty thorough overhaul

rip astrodyne, nobody liked you

so sge gets salted earth, k

sge said double caster rights

wait is it really an aoe dot? sge gets all the nice things... (but can't turn into an angel so. really who is the winner here)

no pvp changes other than vpr and pct being added until 7.1. cowards

...mountain dew collab. the fuck

...are The Youth not familiar with mtn dew? huh??

collabs outside of japan though fuck yes

oh no there's an official overpriced loporrit plush

...magnets on a cable tidy? :|

thats all she wrote ig

[celinedionswang]

novellette in progress pt 1

Prologue

The Night on Bay Street

It was 3 AM in the slums of New York City.

No woman should’ve been walking on the streets at this time, especially alone – but nevertheless, Mandy walked, mascara-streaked tears running down her face as her fake, cheap nails tapped frantically at the screen of her phone. Her client was somewhere behind her, abandoned on the third floor of the hotel with a knife stuck in his neck. When police arrived at the scene, they would find an empty gun, and a pack of unloaded bullets in the mobster’s pocket. But Mandy didn’t have time to think about all of that – she needed a way out, and she needed one fast. Her pimp wasn’t going to be happy, that’s for sure, but he didn’t need to know it went south until they were far, far away from the crime scene. She could take a beating. She knew she could. She could take anything, but the police? She shuddered at the thought, remembering how she’d gotten into this sick, fucked up prostitute chain in the first place. One accident. One call. And her life was ruined forever.

Again, didn’t have time to think about that. Walk faster, but not too fast, anyone will see you and think you’re running. Straighten shoulders, adjust clothing, make it look like you’ve just finished a job. Maybe some scumbag will pick you up for a good time. If he doesn’t get here, that’ll be our only way out of this. No sirens yet, so she allowed herself to breathe, her chest showing off an unhealthy piano of ribs as it moved up, and down, slowly. She was halfway into her purse looking for some powder when a commotion a few blocks down grabbed her attention. She frowned. Had she really already walked all the way to Main Street? As she tiptoed over (as quickly as she could in her sock-feet, stilettos long ago abandoned), she realized with dismay that she had arrived at Main Street, one dark alley away.

The crowd that had been screaming was just a bunch of girls, no older than college age. From their blushing, freckled skin to their carefree attitude, it was clear they were just towngirls in the city for a night of fun. They were staring at the billboards high above them, the bright, colorful flashing drawing Mandy’s curiosity until she stepped into the light as well, craning her neck to get a good view of the video screening. The man wore a suit, stark in contrast against the all-black background. He didn’t look happy (she could tell that much) as he began to speak. “INHABITANTS OF NEW YORK CITY,” his voice boomed, loud enough to wake even the dead, “WE ARE IN THE NINTH STAGE OF ENVIRONMENTAL EXTINCTION. IF YOU CARE AT ALL ABOUT YOUR PLANET, YOU WILL LISTEN TO WHAT I HAVE TO SAY. AS YOU NOW KNOW, WE ARE IN THE NINTH STAGE OF ENVIRONMENTAL EXTINCTION. THE TENTH COMES SOONER THAN YOU THINK. THERE IS ONLY ONE THING THAT CAN PREVENT THIS FROM HAPPENING. THROUGH A RECENT SCIENTIFIC BREAKTHROUGH, WE HAVE FOUND THAT BLOOD IS NOT ONLY A SUPERSTARTER IN THE PROCESS OF BIODEGRADATION, BUT AN AMAZING SOURCE OF PROTEIN FOR ALL FORMS OF LIVING LIFE, AS WELL AS BEING A FANTASTIC FERTILIZER.” The man paused, seemingly for dramatic effect. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN –  WHAT YOU ARE THINKING IS RIGHT. HUMAN SACRIFICE IS THE ONLY SOLUTION TO SAVING THIS PLANET.”

With that, the screen turned completely black, only to restart the same video after a couple seconds. Mandy watched it a few more times, confused. Was this real? Her vision began to burn at the edges as she finally tore her eyes away, looking around to see others doing the same. “Look!” Someone cried, pointing to a building further down on the street. “They’re all broadcasting it!” With horror, Mandy realized they were right – every screen in her sight played the same video, over and over without end, the man in the blue suit never growing tired, his speech never growing weak. Was this some crazy terrorist stunt? Or communist propaganda? Everything she’d been worrying about ten minutes ago seemed so small and trifle now. What was there to worry about guns or officers when some psychopath was telling everyone to kill themselves? Shakily, she took out a cigarette, unsure of what else to do. Everything is fine. This is just some foreign bullshit video that the government’ll all have explained by tomorrow. She started her lighter, about to burn when a man cleared his throat behind her. She turned around, relieved to see it wasn’t anyone she recognized. “Weird shit, huh?” He joked, eyes to the ground. “Yea,” she replied flatly, annoyed. She drew the cigarette to her lips and lit it quickly, slumping against the wall as she took a deep, much needed inhale. The smoke clouded her vision and she hoped when it cleared the man would be gone. He wasn’t. “What’s your name?” He asked. And it would’ve sounded genuinely curious if not for the nervous fidgeting, the hands in his pockets. All of this Mandy noticed. “Laura,” she lied, still staring straight ahead. That man stepped closer. “That’s a nice-” “I charge one-fifty an hour,” she interrupted him, finally turning her head. “More if you want perks.” She shook her pocket, highlighting the obvious sound of pills. The man swallowed. “And where – ?” With a sigh, she got up, stubbing her cigarette out on the brick wall. She nodded at the man. “Follow me.” Her ears had grown accustomed to the sound of the video now, now longer deafening as she walked the man down the same street she’d come from. Little bits interrupted their peace. “...NINTH STAGE…ONLY ONE…AMAZING SOURCE OF…” “Do you think it's real?” The man piped up, taking a few long strides to walk directly next to her. It took her a few seconds to respond. “Dunno,” she finally replied, taking a sharp turn. “Would it really matter anyways?” 

After this, the man was quiet. Mandy rode him well into the morning and left the hotel puffing yet another cigarette from her tired lips.

[lunartadpole]

1 ¦ 2

inspired by this post :))

(Tell me baby, do you recognize me?)

Eddie graduates by the skin of his teeth - and with the help of some pity points from the higher ups at Hawkins High School, a makeshift apology for the town-wide manhunt for him - and he is left with the age old question that plagues most, if not all, graduates: what now?

He doesn't know what to do with himself, doesn't know what he's good at. Sure, there's music, he can play the guitar decently but he doesn't know where to take that. And that leaves him in a bit of a slump. His whole life Eddie has been tethered to this town, itching for some grand escape or for something to call him, begging him to chase it down. He's wanted to get the hell outta dodge for so long, he never actually thought he'd see the day where he'd just…go.

So he graduates. He hobbles off that stage, still in his crutches as his legs still aren't fully able to support his weight again, and it doesn't feel nearly as good as he dreamed of, though he guesses that once one looks death in the eye, fights off hoards of literal, real life monsters, menial things like finishing school with possibly the lowest grades imaginable matter less than one thought. And he stays, in Hawkins, just for another month or so. Just until inspiration hits.

He gets a job alongside Steve and Robin at Family Video, because if he wants out he's gonna need the money, and becomes a natural third to their duo. They work many shifts together, mostly mucking about to pass the hours; arguing about movies, laughing at annoying customers, gossiping about Steve's failure of a dating life. It's nice. Eddie finds something in that, friendship. Not that he didn't have friends before all this interdimensional mess, but there's a difference here at Family Video. 

There's a difference with Steve.

Eddie never thought he'd see the day where he actually liked Steve Harrington. But he soon discovered that they had a lot more in common than Eddie would have ever thought; and it's not that Steve suddenly likes D&D, or that Eddie gets a newfound appreciation of Basketball, it's that they're both adrift in the ocean of life, aimlessly floating with no direction, no plan on where to go. 

Eddie stays for another month. His friendship with Steve only grows when he invites both Eddie and Wayne to stay at his house. Prior to this they'd been living out of a motel half an hour outside of town, thanks to their humble trailer getting ripped in half when the earth split open. Eddie declines at first, but Steve is insistent. 

"It's not like I don't have the space," Steve shrugs. "Big house, gotta fill it with something. Why not you?" 

The Munsons move into Loch Nora. Wayne is icey at first, unsure about this whole arrangement and untrusting of the Harrington boy despite Eddie's insistence that Steve is not like his parents. But soon enough, Wayne and Steve hit it off and it's like they've been friendly for years. Eddie walks in on them, more often than not, watching football and screaming at Steve's state-of-the-art TV, sharing a beer and a smoke on Steve's porch. Wayne catches Eddie lingering in doorways, just watching, and flashes him a knowing smile. 

"He's one of the good ones, that boy," Wayne comments one night. They're watching Steve in the kitchen from the dining room while he cooks, in his absolute element. There are times where Eddie just, sits and watches Steve when he's preparing dinner; the concentration on the boys face, reading recipes written in feminine handwriting out of a battered notebook, and the utter joy when things go his way, is enough to bring a smile to Eddie's lips and a warm feeling through his body. 

Eddie felt that warmth then, watching Steve hum to a song he's been trying to remember for the past week, and it's been driving Eddie up the walls hearing that same poppy tune over and over - but it hasn't really. "Yeah," Eddie agrees with a nod, "He is." 

The summer breeze rolls in quicker than usual. 

Eddie spends his time in the blistering Hawkins heat in the pool, surrounded by his friends. He doesn't mind that, despite Robin's constant begging and his own teasing to show off Harrington's skill in the water that earned him the title of Captain of the Swim Team, Steve never gets in the water with them; he seems perfectly happy to lounge on the deck chairs with Nancy. Sometimes, when Eddie looks over at them, the two are staring off at the pool with some glazed over expression, the very same he has when he remembers the sound of Chrissy Cunningham's bones snapping. So he doesn't ask, knowing that Steve will tell when he's ready. 

When they're not in the pool, they're inside with the aircon blasted, watching movies, eating ice cream. Sometimes - read: very often - Steve opens his home to the kids, who eagerly accept under the pretense of continuing whatever campaign Eddie's been cooking up. Steve takes the gang on drives to anywhere and everywhere, and sometimes, late a night when everyone's gone off back to their own houses, he and Eddie will go on their own personal trips; down long, straight roads with the music - which they bicker excessively about - blasted up as high as the car will allow and the windows rolled down. Eddie sticks his head out the window like a dog and Steve will tell him just that. The feeling of wind on his face provides him that escape he longed for, reminds him where he wants to be, gone. 

But Hawkins in fall is beautiful, Eddie did always love watching the leaves change colour. The summer breeze disappears and is replaced with that wild, sharp chill that always made his muscles ease up. But something changes in Steve during the autumn. He quietens, and the nail studded bat makes it return beside the front door. Eddie never presses, instead buying candy in bulk and renting scary movie after scary movie for them to watch leading up to Halloween. Steve falls asleep during one of these movie nights, unconsciously tossing and turning until things almost get violent and he wakes in a cold sweat. Eddie is there to hold him, to wipe his tears while he opens up about everything; Barbra Holland, the pool, Nancy Wheeler and the word bullshit, the Russians. And Eddie just holds him while he melts in his arms, the heat of Steve's body only adding to that warm, fuzzy feeling churning in Eddie's stomach. He does something brave that night. 

Steve and Eddie share their first kiss watching Micheal Myers terrorise Jamie Lee Curtis. 

Halloween comes and goes. That chill in the air turns to a bite of frost. Eddie never did like going on long journeys in the cold weather. 

Winter is spent getting drunk and getting high. Because there's not much else to do. The town experienced a bad storm that year, leaving Steve and the Munsons locked in Loch Nora for a week and a bit. They build a snowman in the front yard, have snowball fights with Robin and Nancy and Jonathan. Steve makes a killer hot chocolate. 

He discovers that Christmas at the Harrington house is one of beauty when Steve puts up the decorations. Hundreds of Christmas lights light up the street at night, and don't even get Eddie started on the tree - huge and intricately decorated with at least a hundred ornaments, each with their own desiccated place. Steve hangs them up out of muscle memory, like he's done this a thousand times. It's during this time Wayne starts to get antsy about their living situation, concerned about what happens when Steve's parents come home for the holiday, but again Steve reassures them. 

"They're not coming this year, so don't worry about it." 

They worry about something else, but they never ask. 

When it gets too cold, Eddie steals Steve's sweaters, Steve curls into the warmth of Eddie's body at night and Wayne lights the fire so the boys can huddle around the fireplace. Eddie doesn't think he'll ever forget the sight of Steve's head resting in his lap, face tinted with the soft glow of the flame. Eddie runs a hand through the infamous hair, untangling any knots with his fingers. It's soft. Eddie doesn't think he'll forget that. Steve gets Eddie a new guitar for Christmas, the one he's been talking about all year; that almost makes Eddie ashamed of what he got Steve, a mixtape full of the songs they listened to on their night drives in summer, but that shame disappears when Steve's eyes light up brighter that any of the lights hanging on the tree. They kiss under conveniently placed mistletoe. The snow soon thaws and Eddie weaves crowns out of blooming flowers for his first boyfriend.

Seasons come and go. Days blend into weeks which blend into months. And the more time Eddie and Steve spend together, the less he thinks about leaving. The year ends with a kiss at a small gathering of friends. The spring season is in full bloom before he knows it, then summer, then fall, then winter, and through it all Steve is still at his side. There's an 'I love you' somewhere stowed in Eddie's chest, and he tries to find the bravery to say it to Steve any chance he gets - when he nurses Eddie back to health from a common cold, when he makes Eddie's coffee in the morning, when he holds Eddie close after a nightmare. Steve has told those three little words more times than Eddie can count, but he just…can't get the words out. They're in there though, waiting.

He thinks he's going to say it, the day he drives to the store to pick up some groceries, one December morning in '87. He has it planned, a quiet night in with Steve's favourite meal homemade by Eddie, treating his boy. Then, as he's scanning the aisle for the ingredients, he hears it. That all too familiar sound. Whispers. The hair on the back of his neck stands up, like someone's watching him, and sure enough when he turns there is. A small group of five, look to be around his age, sneering, mumbling amongst themselves. And suddenly it's March, 1986, and people he's never spoken too are demanding his arrest, calling him a murder. Suddenly it's Summer '86, and some punks trashed the front window of Family Video, the words hunt the freak painted over it. 

Suddenly, Eddie realises what fucking time it is and what time he's already lost. His skin begins to itch and a scowl finds its way on his face as he recalls his comfort over the past year, his complacency. He leaves the store without buying anything, racing down the road to Loch Nora desperate to get the fuck out of there as soon as he possible can. He doesn't care that he doesn't have anything to chase, doesn't care that he can't do anything yet, Eddie can't stay in this town anymore; not when the people still torment him, look at him like he's Satan himself and cower in fear. 

He throws his things in a bag, gathers the decent amount of money he's managed to save up, and just as he's about to leave he notices that the Christmas decorations are up again, that perfect fucking tree towering over him a constant reminder of the part of himself he willingly gave away. He thinks of Steve, bitterly, liar, and how they're not the same at all. Because Steve might be content with being lost in the ocean, no way out, no plan, no path. But Eddie will not fucking waste away in a town that hates him. 

He thinks of Steve, lovingly, darling, but it's not enough. It would never be enough. 

Eddie writes a note for Wayne and Wayne only. He's gone before the ice can thaw. 

December, 1891

Eddie Munson is walking home to his apartment when he sees Nancy Wheeler. 

He's got a good thing going on here in New York. Though it was rough at the start. He drove aimlessly for weeks, sleeping in any dingy motel he could afford, but after he found a severed finger underneath his pillow he decided that sleeping in his van was the safer, and cheaper, option. 

He camped out in Ohio for a month or three, working at a roadside dinner washing dishes. Then it was on to Kentucky, which lasted an extremely short while, before North Carolina for the summer. New York was never in the plan, not that he had one, but something so far away from small town Indianna sang his name and there he went. 

It was…different to say the least. Eddie had never seen so many people in his entire life, it was easy to get lost in the crowd. For the first four months, he was entirely alone, working three jobs of stocking shelves, wiping down tables and bartending at clubs just to get by. But that didn't bother him, not in the slightest. Because he may have been living out of his van, but at least here people didn't cower away from him. At least here there were others like him. Other 'freaks'.

It's not like Eddie didn't know there where other gay people in the world, but christ sometimes it hard to remember your not the only one when middle aged women are shielding their children from you, and dickheads in school carve those ugly words into your locker every morning. 

It was these others who let him crash on their couches when winter rolled around and the van became uninhabitable. Then eventually, it was these others who let him move in permanently. They were like him, in more ways than just the obvious. They too had nowhere else to go, no plan, no path, but desperate to find one. Lost in the ocean and trying to swim. 

Things started looking up at the beginning of 1989. All that time, alone in the back of a van, gave Eddie lots of time to thing; about what he was good at, what he wanted to do with himself. And, as it turned out, years of scrawling down D&D campaign ideas had paid off, because Eddie was quite the story teller. And after months of rejection letters and disappointments, one literary journal gave him a publishing deal.

He wrote short stories, mainly, fantasy ones of course. He wrote of dragons and monsters, of evil wizards and an unlikely band of heroes. He wrote of a prince, who was brave as he was kind; who loved his kids despite his insistence that they were nothing more than a nuisance in his life; who was handsome to boot and had hair like silk.

Who loved the local bard when the town roared he was a witch. 

…that story might be just for him. 

And sure, of course there were times he felt a tad homesick. He writes letters to Wayne from time to time, just so his Uncle knows he's okay, but he never gives his address for him to write back, he doesn't know why. Maybe he's scared that Wayne will come find him, drag him back to that shithole town, or maybe it's because he doesn't want a reminder of the town that hated him.

(Or maybe, Eddie doesn't want to know what's changed in his absence. Doesn't want to know how everyone is, how well they're doing without him. How a certain someone is doing without him.)

Which is why, when he sees Nancy Wheeler walking towards him, he freezes. 

Nancy hasn't changed since the day Eddie saw her last. Her hair may be a bit longer, a bit more unruly, but her eyes still have that curious glint to them, and her smile just shows her cunning intelligence. And she's still beautiful. 

"Eddie?" She says, disbelief flooding her tone. "Oh my god, is that you?" 

Dumbly, Eddie stands there, frozen among the crowd of people bustling to get to wherever it is they're going. Nancy fixes him with a look, taking the sight of it in and her the smile on her face grows. She runs forward and wraps him up in a hug, letting Eddie get a smell of her lavender perfume that also hasn't changed since '86. And just like that, all other concerns he had fade away. 

He hugs her back, burying his face in her curls. "Nance? Oh Jesus, what the hell are you doing here?!" 

When she pulls away her eyes are fiery. "I could ask you the same thing." She jabs his chest with a pointed finger. But her gaze momentarily softens. "It's so good to see you. Are you busy right now? I just got off work, I was gonna go for some coffee?" 

Eddie smiles, knowing damn well he's about to get the interrogation of his life. "I'd love that."

The coffee shop, at least, provides some much needed warmth from the winter weather. New York somehow gets far colder than Indianna during Christmas, and Eddie never did well in the cold. 

Nancy buys him a coffee. He can tell by the way she holds herself that she wants to demand where he's been and why he left, but she won't ask. Not yet. Eddie's grateful for that. 

"I live here now," she says instead, "Well, temporarily, so far. I got a paid internship at The Times as an investigative journalist. Hoping they give me the job soon." 

"That's incredible!" Eddie exclaims. "God, I wish I knew you were here. I would've let you buy me a coffee sooner." 

She stirs her tea with a spoon stiffly. "Yeah maybe you should've left a number before you took off. Or, well, anything."

And yeah. Okay. He deserves that. But ouch Wheeler.

He clears his throat. "So, uhm, is Jonathan here with you?"

"Uh, no." Nancy's eyes crinkle in a way where Eddie feels like he's missed out on something. "We broke up." 

"Shit, I'm so sorry I shouldn't have-" 

She silences him with a wave of her hand. "No, don't. It's fine. It happened a while ago, just after you left actually." She coughs. "I'm seeing someone else now. But hey, what about you? How have you been?" 

Eddie tells her about everything. About the severed finger in the motel, about sleeping in his van, about working three jobs, about his writing. He tells her more than he means too, things he hadn't even admitted to himself yet, but Nancy always brought that out in people. 

"I won't even lie, Nancy, I've been missing home so much." At this stage, they've been talking for two hours, the cafe is slowly emptying and the sun is slowly setting. "Like, the city is great, I fucking love it here, but I just…" he trails off, not knowing how to describe the gaping void in his chest when he thinks about Hawkins. 

They sit in silence for a bit. Then, Nancy says, "Yeah, we all miss you too. Especially the kids- sorry, not allowed to say kids anymore. Mike keeps busting my ass every time I call him that."

"Shit, yeah. What age are they now? Eighteen?" 

Nancy nods. Eddie leans back in his chair, feeling incredibly old. 

"It's true, you know. They miss you. A lot. Dustin tried to get Hopper to file a missing persons report. They thought you'd been kidnapped or something." 

Shame paints Eddie's cheeks pale. He never did think about the kids' reactions to him leaving without so much as a goodbye. 

Nancy huffs a laugh, "Mike took over your little club too. Though I think Erica does the whole game master thing."

Erica Sinclair, god he misses that little spitfire. 

"Lucas is captain for the Tigers as well. Oh and Joyce and Hopper? Yeah, they're married now." 

"No way!" 

"Uh-huh," Nancy's curls bounce as she nods. "Had their wedding in July last year. And Steve is-" 

Nancy Wheeler does something then that Eddie has never seen her do. She falters. She doesn't even try to hide the obvious hurt and hate she has for Eddie in that moment, her eyes glare daggers at him. He thinks she's about to rip him a new one, list off all the reasons he's a shitty person in alphabetical order, and leave him, alone forever. 

Instead,

"You should come back. For Christmas I mean" she says. "We've all been doing this thing now for the last couple years where we all get together, it's great really. I think everyone would love to see you." 

"Everyone?" he asks, hesitantly. A picture flashes in his mind: a boy's head in his lap, face illuminated by a flickering fire.

"Everyone." 

Later, when Eddie's packing his suitcase, he'll blame his decision on peer pressure and how he knew if he said no, Nancy would just continue to wear him down until he agreed. But deep down, he knows that it was because the thought of going back to Hawkins- no, back to his family , filled him with that familiar warmth he hadn't felt in years. 

"Yeah." he deflates into the chair. "OK, sure. It'll be fun." 

Nancy smirks. Never a good sign. 

[misspearly1]

Day Twenty: Double Penetration - Max Phillips

Kinktober22 List

WC: 3.2K Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI. Early relationship stages (Max and Reader are dating). Smut. Max finding Readers Sex Toys then being Silly and Perverted with them. Panty Sniffing. Unprotected PIV sex. Anal play. Butt plugs. Vibrators. Fluff. Humour. AN: Ok, so I started writing this when I was feeling giggly and humorous, so I hope you found what I wrote Max doing as funny as I did 🤣. Enjoy the read, my lovelies!

-

You should have known better. You should have known that Max Phillips was up to something when he asked to go back into your apartment to take a leak and took too long to return. He’s like a child. You can’t leave him unattended for too long, otherwise he’ll get up to no good, doing shit he isn’t supposed to. You should have known better. 

Standing in the hallway outside of your apartment, you look through the open door and call for him. “Hey! You better be finishing up there, Max.” There was no answer, just silence. You look down to your watch, seeing that you’re already ten minutes late for your dinner reservation and sigh frustratedly.

This is your third date with the vampire and things are moving at a comfortable pace. Well, it’s moving at your pace. If Max had it his way, you’d already be back at his place, naked and rolling around in the sheets. 

After a whole minute goes by still with no answer from him, the silence quickly filling with mischief, you head back inside your apartment and march straight to the bathroom. The light wasn’t even on and the door was wide open with Max nowhere to be seen inside. A noise from your bedroom caught your attention and your stomach dropped. “Oh no… please no.” You groan. 

Rushing over to your bedroom, you push the door open and freeze with a mixture of emotions coursing through your bloodstream. In your bedroom, the man stood with your panties over his head, the crotch of the your underwear over his nose, holding a plethora of sex different toys in both hands. Max had even put your chained nipple clamps around his neck, wearing them like a necklace, and you both just stood staring at each other. 

Initially, you were mad; madder than a hornet because he was snooping around where he shouldn’t be, looking into your pretty pink box filled with sex toys, but it was the panties over his head that made you feel… amused and giggly. You tried to fight it, with all your might, you tried to fight your own emotions but it was useless, especially with the way he looked at you with an unbroken ‘I am proud of myself’ smirk on his face. 

Big brown eyes sparkling with glee, he rested his weight on one hip, tilting his head to the side a little, as if you were the problem right now, not him. “What?” He chokes out a laugh and shrugs. “Either tell me off or laugh with me, toots. One or the other.” 

“What th- I can’t do this.” You drop your gaze, still trying to fight back the urge to laugh. “What do you think you’re doing, Max? These things are private. They’re not for you to see or touch-” You look up at him, your lips rolling together with hilarity as your cheeks burn. “-And my panties are not for you to wear over your head so you can sniff the crotch either.” 

“Um. Well you see the thing is,” The man begins explaining himself flamboyantly, waving your toys around in his hands. “I’ve never really been the type to follow the rules. And you already know that. So, I would argue that this is kinda your own fault.” Max points to you, with your dildo, and laughs. 

“Max stop.” You shake your head at him - giggling. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t look at him and be angry. The sight before your eyes is too comical not to laugh at. He’s holding all kinds of toys in his hands. Cuffs, dildos and butt plugs. It’s as if he saw the bright pink box and zoned in on it, then started pulling everything out excitedly to look at all your dirty little secrets. But it’s still those damn panties over his head. They were thongs, so the crotch was pulling his nose up a little, like a pig's nose, and he just looked so funny, cute and silly. 

“God. What am I going to do with you, huh?” You sigh while walking towards him. Taking the toys from his hands and dropping them into the box, you look back into his eyes and reach for your underwear. “I swear you are a fifteen year-old boy trapped inside of a grown ass man.” 

“Hey, what are you doing?” He protests as you throw the underwear into the laundry basket. “They weren’t used. I got them out of your drawer, toots.” 

“Yeah, I know.” You retort, eyes widening like you were mad. “But they’ve been on your face and God knows where your face has been before you got here.” 

“Oh.” Max relents with a nod of understanding. You were right to think that. His face was covered in blood thirty minutes before arriving at your apartment after devouring a couple batches of blood like he was starved. He’s got an older lady friend that works in a blood drive and she drops some off every week for him. “Well I don’t know about God or anything,” He steps closer, perversity and lust burning red in his eyes, “But I do know where my face will be later tonight, baby.”

You shake your head again, this time with a little disgust, though you were still amused, especially with the way he was wiggling his eyebrows. Moving back when he reaches out, you know that look on his face all too well and also know that you’ll struggle to fight it once he wraps his arms around your lower back. “We’re not doing this right now. We’re already late for dinner, Max.” You explain and don’t fall for the puppy dog eyes. 

“Not even just a little bit of this?” He counters, stepping forward and still reaching out with grabby hands to hold you. “I only want one kiss. I swear, gorgeous.” The man promises, but the little smile on his lips betrays him. You’re not stupid, you know Max better than he does most days, and he wants more than just a kiss. And you do too, but you wanted to at least make it to the fifth date before having sex with him. 

“Alright, just a kiss.” You fail and give in. His natural charm is just too good to ignore. Max can’t glamour you, he gave you a necklace filled with special plants and herbs that blocks his powers when around you, therefore his alluring technique that he used just now was all him and not the vampire. 

However, as his hands snake around your back and he leans down to seal his lips over yours in a chaste, soft-like kiss, you pull him back for another. Not the other way around. “I thought it was just one?” He mumbles, calling you out, to which you cup your delicate hands over his cheeks and reply. “Just shut up and kiss me, Maxie.” 

An offer that no sane minded man could refuse, he does shut up and kiss you. Lips pressed against yours passionately, conveying without a need for words about how hungry he was for your touch. You don’t stop him when one of his hands moves down to your ass, in fact, you moan into his mouth, wordlessly welcoming him in to take more. Which he does. Max gropes the meaty flesh of your ass, grabbing handfuls of it like they were his own personal handles to pull you into him. 

“Fuck.” You make a surprised sound when feeling his fingers contacting your heat through your underwear. It was apparently enough to make Max feral as he bent his knees slightly to sweep you up off the floor by your thighs and wrap your legs around his back. “I guess dinner's off tonight?” He asks, not because he cares for dinner, but he cares whether or not you want this. 

Max knows you wanted to wait to have sex and tried his best to respect that, but he couldn’t help take a sneak peak at your sex toys when seeing the bright pink box in your closet. The man could smell your desire on the toys regardless that you’ve washed them and could even tell that you’ve used them recently. Today as a matter of fact. He knows you’ve used one of the little vibrators today. The more he looked over your toys, the more turned on he became, but when he heard you coming back into your apartment to find him, he quickly grabbed your panties to put over his face and hoped you’d find it as funny as he did. 

And you did, but he didn’t think you’d get turned on too. “We’re already late,” You sigh breathily, fingers threading through the curls of his hair with a gentle pull. “So we may as well indulge, Maxie.” You giggle, then moan as he slips his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss. Your answer gave the man all the reassurances he needed - gave him the permission to pleasure you. 

“I want-” He breaks the kiss to look into your eyes with request. “-To use your toys too. Would you be ok with that, sexy?” He asks oh so kindly, the sweet voice making you blush. Tugging your lip between your teeth, you nod bashfully in agreement and it drives the man up the wall so see you acting so shy. “You won’t regret this.” He growls and leans in to kiss you again. 

Walking towards the bed and laying you down, Max slides his hands up your dress and hooks his fingers inside your panties to pull them down. Your legs quickly fall open after your underwear was thrown over his shoulder and he takes the invitation by slitting his hips between your thighs, grinding his bulge into your bare pussy. He breaks off again and pulls back to look into your eyes, asking. “Do you want me to go clean your toys again? I had my hands all over them.”

“No,” You moan, shaking your head. “I cleaned them already today. It’s fine, just hurry Max. I’m so horny.” You sink into the bed with a whine from the loss of his bulge pressing into you. He’s so firm and hard down there, it was delightful to feel against your core, but you didn’t want him to stop grinding into you. You wanted him to keep going. “Hang on, baby.” He reassures, and you close your eyes with a nod, waiting patiently for his return. 

Gasping from the noise of your sex toy box being dragged across the floor, you bite your lip and hold back the moan in your throat, knowing that Max is looking around in there trying to decided which toy to use. It made you feel sexy and special. Sexy and special because he’s putting you first, wanting to ramp up the pleasure by adding the toys into sex. It makes your cheeks burn slightly with humiliation because of how badly you want him to fuck you with them. 

“The plugs,” You breath stutters as you still hear him rummaging around for which toy to use. “Choose one of the butt plugs, Max. Start with that.” You suggest, to which the man replies with a deep, husky command. “Turn around and lay on your stomach for me. I got one in my hand for you.” Doing as he asks, you turn around and lay on your stomach. You rest your cheek to the duvet, hands splayed out on the fabric with anticipation. 

“M-Max.” You moan upon feeling his trail of kisses up the backside of your legs, the action making you clench around nothing and your tight little hole pucker. Then you wonder if he even saw the lube, if he would use it or just use his spit. The latter of those two options makes you quiver. “Fuck!” You gasp again, feeling the ice cool touch of the butt plug dancing up your leg. He’s chosen the metal one, you can tell, and you know that it’s the biggest out of your collection. 

“Think you can take it, toots?” He growls against your thigh, tongue darting out to lick a path up your skin, towards where you want it most. “Hm? C’mon now don’t be shy. Answer me.” He whispers seductively, the smirk showing through his tone of voice. “I don’t know,” You answer him honestly while leaning into his touch. “I haven’t used that plug yet, baby.” 

“Haven’t used it yet, have you?” He asks rhetorically, “Well let’s change that, sexy girl.” Lifting your dress up your back, you hear him groan out from the sight of your pussy and ass from this angle, and upon lifting your head to look over your shoulder, you even see the man’s expression as he drinks the image in. It just was pure lust and admiration. Though, he caught you looking at him and locked onto your line of sight. “So pretty and wet, Y/N.” He says, brows pulling together as he keeps glancing at your cunt. “Your lips are pink and puffy-” He pauses to lick his lips, “-I want a taste.” 

“Are you asking for a taste or telling me?” You tease with a smile, then lay your head back down onto the covers, lifting your ass up for him. Max chuckles, finding amusement out of your question, but doesn’t bother wasting anymore time to think of an answer. He was in fact, so fucking hungry and leaned in to satiate himself to delve his tongue between your folds. “Oh fuck,” You sigh, arching your back for him. “That’s it, Maxie.” You praise his actions, hoping it appeases him enough to not stop. 

Listening to the man lap up your juices then swipe his tongue left and right, your hands now grip the bed covers as your toes curl inside your shoes. It feels so good; his tongue feels so good. It’s warm and soft, stroking your clit wonderfully before he moves up to your swollen clit, taking the little num into his mouth with a gentle suck. You hear the pop when he releases your clit and moves back, a groan escaping him as reaches out to spread you apart with his hands. 

“Holy shit!” You jolt with surprise from the cool sensation of your butt plug sliding through your folds. He was gathering your desire with it, using your own slick as lube before spitting on your puckered hole. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.” You babble when he notches the object against your tight ring of muscle. 

“I know, toots. I know.” Max reassures with a comforting tone, squeezing a handful of your ass cheek as he prepares to push the plug inside. It burns as you open up, but his gentle movements and reassuring gestures distract you from the pain. “Easy does it. We’re almost there, gorgeous.” He caressed your ass, rubbing circles on your skin with his finger. “Fuck!” He couldn’t help but admire the way you opened up and took the metal ball inside, your tight ring of muscle pulsing around the bar with the softest whimper slipping past your lips. “Are you ok?” He asks, concerned. 

“Y-yes.” You puff and pant, your pretty cheeks rosy red and your eyes screwed shut. “I’m ok, just… trying to relax.” You admit to him truthfully and Max leans into pepper praising kisses to the globes of your ass, using his fingers to hold the handle of the plug. He likes feeling it move against him as your muscles squeeze. 

“Oh,” He sighs breathily, “Such a good girl taking that big plug in your ass.” Moving away to retrieve something, you whine from the loss of his touch again and he quickly soothes your plight. “Hang on, baby. I got something else for you right here.” You moan at the sound of his zipper being pulled down, eager to feel him stretch your open with his cock. 

While Max removes his clothes, you kick off your shoes and move up the bed a little to get more comfy. When he came back to you, he reached for your dress and helped lift it up your body and over your head before tossing it to one side. “I want you to cum on my cock.” He whispers a request, slipping his hand around to your front while holding a vibrator. “As many times as you can, ok toots?” 

“Mhm.” You nod into the covers, clenching around nothing as he presses the toy to your clit. Max doesn’t turn it on yet, not until he’s inside of you first. Using his free hand, he drags the tip of his cock through your folds, coating himself with your desire before breaching your entrance. 

“Fuuuck me!” A guttural groan is released directly into your ear as he slowly pushes his way inside, savouring the feeling of your velvety walls squeezing around him with every inch that he buries. Bottoming out deep inside, he holds his free hand over yours, finger slipping between yours and kisses your cheek. “Ready, gorgeous?” He asks, to which you whine and nod in reply, already pulsing around him before he turns the vibrator on. 

“Max!” You cry out, jerking away from the vibrator, but pushing towards him buries his cock deeper. It was on the highest setting, the sensation much too powerful to start off with. 

“I got it, I got it.” He whispers quickly and presses the buttons until it is lowered back down to the first setting. Max was about to apologise for the simple mistake, but your moans of pleasure cut him off right before the words could spill for his lips. “Fuck yes, that’s it baby girl.” He praises instead; praises your sweet little sounds in hopes you’ll provide more. “Feel so nice against your clit, huh girl? With my cock buried deep in your pussy.” 

“Yes, yes!” You pant and jerk against him, but no matter which direction you move, each was sensational. “You’re so big and t-t-the plug, Max. Fuck! You’re pushing on the plug!” The man heard the pleasure in your tone, understood how delightful it felt for you that he was adding pressure onto the plug and then acted on it by gently grinding into you. Oh the filthy noises you produced for him, high pitched and croaky, gasping for air with each roll of his hips, your throat was already starting to become dry and cracked. And he loved it.

“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum like this.” He whines - actually whines. Needy and desperate, he buries his face into the nook of your neck and breathes raggedly into your skin, barely even grinding from how tight you were squeezing him. The grip was strong, vice-like grip kind of strong, though your little movements provided him pleasure as you rotate your hips to pleasure yourself with the vibrator. 

Falling apart for him beautifully, the man experienced the same type of high he gets when drinking blood and fucking at the same time. It was powerful and intoxicating, only he hadn’t drank a drop of your blood or barely made an effort to actually fuck you. The vibrtator did all the work, did all the work for you both and made you climax together as one. When Max discovered your sex toys, he knew instantly that he wanted to explore them with you, but didn’t expect them to be this pleasurable for him too during sex. 

And now that he’s had a taste, he’s insatiable for more.

-

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