#the spaghetti man is on the prowl once again

[guardgrandma]

‎

[enigma-im]

Crocodile Rock

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Lizard Man X Female!Human Warning: sexual drought, minor stalking, kidnapping, sex on a mountain, Oral, monster sex, loss of control, scenting, ovulation

Word count: 3660

A monster prowling the streets of a suburban neighborhood. A girl in a bit of a dry spell is driving him crazy.

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One would think that going most of your life without sex would make going a few months without it easy. I'd imagine the metaphor for food would make sense. If you never had spaghetti before you can't crave it, you can want it but not really desire it. I also just compared sex to spaghetti, I really need to get laid.

I believe the last time I was intimate, not even had sex, with someone was almost a year ago. It is fine for the most part, hardly noticed it till recently. Work has kept me busy so it wasn’t a great loss. Now that I have more free time all I crave is the touch of another. Reading hasn’t done me any favors either. Its been a mess of a time.

As I spiral in the depth of frustration I have been noticing the presence of someone watching me. It was easy to brush off at first but once I started seeing strange things do I become worried. In the morning when I'd walk to my car to go to work id catch a pair of glowing eyes in the woods opposite my house. The first time I assumed it was the neighbors' house lights, boy was I wrong. When I come back home and rechecked I saw there were no lights. Next came the sightings and talk around the area. People caught sight of a huge man walking about. Other added on saying it wasn’t a man but a monster, having scales and sharp teeth. I hardly believed any of that until I caught sight of him when looking at my backyard.

I stood in the kitchen and looked out the window at my poorly kept yard. It desperately needed a trim and grooming. I wonder who will be doing that cause its definitely not me. As I was about to walk away with my fresh cup of cocoa I see a shadow move under the trees. I squint and lean against the sink to get a better look. It was big, that was easy enough to decipher. It stepped over my fence and walked towards the back porch. Once it was close enough, the motion sensors caught it. We both stood frozen after that.

Tall was my immediate thought. Big, hulking, scaled, were my next ones. This… thing… looks like a lizard to simplify things. It was covered in dark green and brown scales and had some spikes coming out the back of its head. Before I could detail more it ran out of the yard and into the dark.

"Well fuck me," I grumble in shock. I didn’t particularly know how else to react after seeing that. Big damn lizard in my yard heading to my back door. It felt like watching one of the lost tape videos on YouTube. That creepy feeling crawling up your spine that may turn into a flight or fight response. I shivered at the time, standing in the kitchen for an uncomfortable amount of time.

It's about two weeks after the incident that I am heading back home from work. The day was harsh and aggravating. Not sure why I scheduled a date for today. Just because its Friday, doesn’t mean I'm not tired. still, my sexual drought hasn’t done much for my growing stress around the mystery in the neighborhood. I think I've caught it out the corner of my eye often after seeing him. Always lurking in the woods like some stalker. It's unnerving but I can't help to an awful fantasy of being watched while gratifying myself at night. I won't lie and say I've never thought about it, opening my windows so the lizard man could catch an eyeful. Of course, I haven't don’t it but I feel its only a matter of time.

I make it home with phantom pains in my stomach. Always around ovulation do I get these little pains, about a 2/10 on the scale but still noticeable. Fingers crossed that my date goes well so I won't have to come home and use the detachable shower head to get some peace. I pull into the driveway and shuffle about collecting all my things in the car. I open up the door as I shove my phone into my pocket. Before I could slam the door shut I hear a loud snap in the woods. It wasn’t like a twig being stepped on but more of a branch being broken. The sound echoes over the mountain and bounces off the trees. The noise sending a chill down my spine.

"ok," I grumble in comfort. I quickly shut the door and speed walk to the front door. As I grab the handle I pause. A crawling feeling runs up my spine. I freeze like a deer caught in headlights. A primal feeling of fright gripping my brain. I can't put my finger on it or even explain the reasoning until a puff of air pushes against the back of my neck. I stop breathing.

Out the corner of my eye, I see a large hand slowly reach out and press against the door. On the other side, I see another hand grab mine and gently take it off the handle. Taking in small gasps of air, I do as it says. The heat of the thing behind me increases as it crowds me to the door. I look up at the glass and try to make out the reflection. I gulp when I realize what it is.

I watch him lean down toward my neck and inhale a greedy breath, letting it out in a pleasing growl. I find myself whimpering right after. His hand still holding mine trails up my arm, stopping at my elbow. Slowly, he traces his nails over to my stomach, flattening his hand to cover almost all of me. He pets his thumb just under my bra and releases another growl.

In a flash, his hand tightens and pulls me back. He grabs me and twists me so he can throw me stomach first over his shoulder. I cough as the breath is punched out of me. We twist and in a dizzying speed, he runs away from my house. My chest bounces against his back as he runs us into the woods. Tree passes us in blurring speed till we stop at a short sharp incline of the mountain. Keeping a strong hold he grips the rock and catapults himself upwards.

He climbs up to a flat space high up over the neighborhood. He walks over to a clear space surrounded by trees, stopping and settling me in the flattened grass. I rest on my back feeling like a dog showing its stomach as I get a good look at him. His features are sharp and aggressive. His eyes are extremely dilated, or his pupils are always that big. His teeth are bared in a snarl and a bit of drool dribbles out the corner of his mouth. I don’t know how to interrupts this, is he going to eat me?

"Please," I whimper while trying to sit up. He growls as he quickly presses his hand to my chest, forcing me back down into the dirt. I follow with minimal complaint, too scared to deny him. The man lowers himself with me, settling on his hand so he can press his face close. Startling me he presses his nose to my neck and sucks in another deep inhale, releasing a deep breath with a rumbling purr. His tongue slithers out and licks up around my collar. I accidentally cry out at the warm press of his mouth. He seems to startle as well, jumping back with a gasp. He looks down at me for a moment before he shakes his head vigorously, seeming to clear his mind.  

I yelp when he grabs at my pants, jerking at them. I jump up but he makes me fall back as he jerks again. Quickly he rips my bottoms down and tosses them aside. His palms glide up over my thighs, parting them as he nears my crotch. I keen in protest, trying to buck away with a flush face. Our eyes meet as he settles on his stomach. He sneers with a growl, gripping my legs tightly in command. Stay still. I settle in panic, resting on my back with a strange mix of anticipation.

His fingers settle in the cleft of my thigh, massaging gently as his breath ghosts over me. I clench my fist to my sides, refusing to look. I yelp when his tongue runs a slow stripe up my crotch. He grunts loudly as his head rest against my pelvis. I feel a dribble of drool splash onto my hip as he shakes his head slowly, perhaps overwhelmed with the experience. Without warning he licks again, dipping inside before sliding his full length up and over my clit. I choke on my breath, clenching my stomach with a white jolt pierces up my spine. He wastes no time going for thirds, taking his time to taste everything he can.

I can't ignore the sharp pulses of arousal drenching over me. I have never cared for slow but he is making it work. Feels like he is worshiping the experience, worshiping me. His tongue invades me and I can't stop the soft moan escaping my lips. He groans along with me, vibrating my thighs as he does. His fingers dig into my skin, no doubt leaving marks. He laps at me like a dog before using his lips to suck on my cunt. The scales on his chin rub over my rear and entrance, the sensation is different but not unwelcomed. I feel myself bucking against him and ignoring any previous protest I had. I let my body enjoy his assaults, even going as far as to watch him.

"Yes, fuck," I sit upon my elbows, my head dropping to my shoulder. His eyes meet mine with an intoxicating amount of enjoyment. Glad we are both on the same page. His eyes roll back as he adjusts his hold, shoving his tongue inside. His fingers then glide around to finger at my clit. "Ah, yes, please," I cry out. I watch as he drinks from me, rolling my hips into him as I near my end. I whimper out pleads, falling back onto my back as I arch into him.

"Please, please, please," I chant. His growls push me over the edge, bucking and squirming into him as I cum. He licks up everything I offer as I dig my fingers into the dirt. My fist ripping up the grass as I cry out.

As I fall he sits up and watches. I roll my head back and forth against the ground, whispering thank you. He is the first person to give me an orgasm in nearly a year. That thought should be sobering but all I can think is, he is kind of cute. For a giant lizard, he did great, better than most, if not all, my exes.

Once I come down I sit up and look at him. He isn't looking up at me, well he is looking down. Motion catches my eye and I look down at his hand wrapped around his cock, and what a cock it is indeed. He is hung like a soda can, thick as all hell. His hand is teasing along his length as he eyes my crotch. He passes a quick glance up at me, his look seems debauched if not predatory. I quirk a brow at him as I try to stray off a smile. I kind of want him inside me, I won't lie. I didn’t imagine I was this desperate for sex but here I lie, ready to plead for him.

I look from him to his crotch, spreading my legs a bit as I lick my lips. This breaks his last strand of control as he grabs at me. He clutches my hips and slides me so his tip rests against my entrance. With no preamble, he bucks forward with a loud growl. Not ready for him to go full hilt I fall back to the dirt with a clenched yelp.

"Jesus," I huff. He takes no time wildly thrusting into me. His hips clapping at mine, leaving my thoughts scattered. Sweet fuck I might die. His cock stretches me like no other. His claws piercing my skin a bit as he slams in and out. Wanting to see what's happening I sit upon my elbows again.

I watch his hips roll, ending with a sharp snap. His stomach muscles pull taunt then flow with his movements. I'm in rapture watching his motions, feeling the effects of his actions. Sitting on my elbows I watch his thick cock pound quickly into me. His cock pulling out swiftly before bucking forward. My face clenches up as I think too much on it, feeling him rub against my walls. I want to look up at him, see what this creature's face looks like when taking me so quick and hard. Yet I can't bring myself to look away from this erotic sight. I hardly notice this keening sound coming from my throat, I also hardly care.

"Fuck, please," I cry as I fall back into the dirt. His grunt and growls echo up the mountain. With a quick squeeze to my hips, he falls forwards on to his hands, hovering over me with a sneer. His bucking picks up pace, slapping against my hips with loud claps. He bares his teeth down at me, his eye nearly clenching shut. The sight is anything but ghastly. His monstrous snarling with his beast-like thrust is all the more arousing.

"Fuck-," I try to whine out a name but nothing comes to mind. The acknowledgment that this beast is using me like a sex toy hits hard. I don’t know anything about him, except how well he can eat a girl out. The taboo of fucking some strange monster in the woods is erotic, like some over the top romance novel. I can't help but squeeze around him with a fluttering of tension. He clenches his eyes close and stutters in his thrust. Soon he falls forward onto his forearms, hanging his head near my neck. I can hear his panting breath and grunts clearer now.

"Heath," I hear him huff out. I lazily swing my head to the side, eyeing him confused. He watches with a side-eye. I can't help but squeeze again when I notice that I'm bouncing with him. "Heath," he growls again.

"Heath," I mumble out around heavy breaths. As he hears me he drops his forehead to the ground and bucks harder into my hips. I choke on a gasp as it feels like his cock is in my stomach. "Fuck, Heath," I growl out between clenched teeth. I find myself reaching out for something sturdy, grabbing at his biceps near my shoulders. As I call his name again he grunts and groans. His noises sound delightful next to my ear. I squeeze around him as I listen, fighting off my nearing peak just to prolong this experience.

I can feel everything. The way the head of his cock leads the way deep inside me. The sensation of his scales rubbing against my hands and thighs. I can feel the air puffing from his heavy panting, brushing my hair slightly. I hold on to every sensation until I can't take it anymore. "Heath, shit- you-… Fuck," I try to speak. My brain seemingly mush as I cry out, hearing my whines echo over the mountains. No doubt startling some of the residences below.

Quickly everything turns white. My hearing becomes a ringing as I suddenly stop screaming. My mouth opens in a silent yell. My insides clench around his impressive length, making him stutter in his thrust. I clench his arms with a vice grip, listening to his short whines as he frantically pounds into me. He takes all he can get before slamming once more. He stills, his breath caught in his throat. I feel his hot load jet into me, coating my insides with his seed. Giving just one final buck we both lay silent. His face buried to my neck and my hands gripping him tightly.

Neither of us moves, still coming back into our own and catching our breaths. I relax my hold and tilt my head back with a content sigh. That was amazing.

Heath startles me by pressing his face to my neck. Licking a short stripe up to my ear. I can feel his chest rumble with a soft purr. His satisfied behavior is pleasing in an almost primal way. I trail my hands up his arms, over his shoulders, and down to his chest. I press my palm to him, feeling his vibrations.

"Jesus, you have been driving me insane all week. I tried taking myself in my hand but it didn’t work, your cunt was the perfect cure," he growls out next to my ear. It's startling, if not embarrassing, to finally hear his voice. Well, hear it in a full sentence anyway.

What he says is still a bit concerning, "I've been driving you crazy?"

"Yes, your scent was too potent. My little sexually frustrated female, practically screaming for my cock," he rubs his nose to my cheek, licking and kissing as he does.

I push his head away while trying to bite down on my smile, "I was not, you big brute." he finally sits up, cocking an eyebrow down at me.

"Right, shall we make a repeat performance than? I will have you begging in the dirt in seconds," his smug face is both charming and annoying.

"Cocky aren't we?"

"Only when I'm right," he grins. He settles back on his forearms, pressing gentle kisses around my face. It’s a strange contrast to his previous domineering actions. Despite my denial, he did have me screaming into the dirt like some kind of whore. I won't lie and say it was unpleasant or unwanted but I will say it would have been nice to know his name beforehand. Not everyone can say that they found out someone's name when it was growled into their ear while that someone's big cock was rearranging their organs. That would be weird if it was a common thing, be concerned about today's way of life if that were the case.

Without warning, Heath grabs my hips and tilts us sideways. He is on his back, cradling me to his front. Letting out a content sigh that ruffles my hair, he closes his eyes. I rest my palms to his chest a bit perplexed. Is he going to sleep? What a typical man. With a roll of my eyes, I rest my chin on his sternum, just observing this strange beast. As I too begin to fall captive to the grips of sleep I remember my plans for tonight. Instead of catching some comforting rest, I begin to rouse with questions.

"Now what?"

His eyes peak open, "Now what?"

"I need to get back home, I have a date tonight I need to get cleaned up for," I clarify. It seems wrong to go out after being thoroughly fucked on the plateau of a mountain but I can't imagine this is going to form into something more. A taboo rendezvous that won't result in a committed relationship.  

He still surprises me by saying, "Date? Not anymore."

I regard him confused, "hmm?"

"No man is taking you away, I will state my intent right now. I will have you again, and again, and again because you are mine," his fingers dig into my naked hips. A growl rumbling from his chest into mine. I'm not put off by the idea, far from it, but I won't make it easy for him.

"I don’t remember agreeing to that," I answer in a cheek to tongue way.

"You agreed when you took my cock," he counters with a wicked smirk.

"I feel there wasn’t much say in that. Didn’t exactly ask," I pretend to ponder.

"Why would I need to when you were begging so beautifully? I couldn’t prolong our torture by asking. Also, I don’t think I could have arranged enough words into a coherent sentence with your arousal surrounding my nose," he sits up and rubs his face into my neck. I can feel his sharp teeth grazing along my collar. It was a fair point, not a good one but a pleasing one.

"I'll let it slide, this time. I expect to be properly courted, don’t need some brute coming in and just staking his claim," I submit, not without my own demands. He stops his assault and leans back with an annoyed look.

"You are exhausting," he thumps his head back to the ground.

"Maybe you shouldn’t have thought with your prick before your brain then," I poke to the top of his head.

"What can I say, he made a good choice," he chuckles.

"I can agree with that," I answer as I rest my cheek to his chest, tracing some of his scales with my finger.

"Then we agree, you are mine," he asks with a large grin. I look up at him, my lips quirking at his full toothy smile.

"As long as you are mine," I shoot back.

"I was yours the minute I got to taste your cunt," his smile goes from playful to teasing. His fingers trailing down to cup my ass.

"Brute and vulgar," I can't help but laugh.

"Shut up, you love it," he purrs. His hands grope and squeeze my rear, his tongue lapping along my neck. If he keeps this up I may be partial to another round.

I grin like a fool, "perhaps."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This is almost exactly how a dream of mine went. only difference is i woke up before he said anything. Bruh was hella hung, miss him.

check out my Archive. Have a peak at my Main Blog.

[bbrandy2002]

The Devil Wears Denim

Part of @emceesynonymroll​ ‘s Wacky Drabble’s #35/36???

Part 2 of 3 from the Little Sh!t series

Summary: Drake and Alyssa are stuck with Nikolas for the night.

Wacky Drabble Prompt: Aren’t you going to read the instructions

Using Friends Prompts from @loveellamae​  In fact, I’m undercover right now. I’m a whore and What’s the worst that could happen? I could die.

A/N: Thanks @burnsoslow​ for letting my little menace torture your couple and pre-reading. I’m fairly certain that one part was written more for your enjoyment (it wasn’t supposed to be that long Burns... lol).

Look Enna! I wrote two drabbles in less than a month :) And we have a worldwide pandemic to thank for that.

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“Hell no! That little shit is not staying in our house.” Drake spat at the small boy who had his father’s boyish looks and his mother’s witty charm.

“Drake. He’s just a little boy,” Alyssa defended. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I could die.”

Alyssa chuckled and wrapped her thin arms around Drake’s waist. She was somewhat amused by what was perceived to be her boyfriend being overly dramatic. “You are not going to die. I’ve been with him most of the afternoon and he’s been a perfect, well-behaved child. And besides, it’s already getting late and Riley could really use a break to deal with her … post-mortem detention.”

“Baby, I love your kind heart. I really do,” he said while tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “But, Liam and Riley have a nanny who can help out with the kids. He doesn’t need to stay here.”

Alyssa shook her head. “No. Nik said she got fired.”

Drake furrowed his brows at his young god-son. “Your parent’s fired, Hilda?” he interrogated.

“Nope. I had to let her go, Uncle Drake.” Nik replied while opening a can of soda he helped himself to from the Walker fridge. “She wasn’t following my rules.”

“What damn rules?” Drake scowled.

Nik took a sip of his soda and made a sour face before he dumped it whole into the trash can. “You know … don’t be a snitch. She ratted me out to my dad about running over the Countess of Genitalia. And you know what they say about snitches, Uncle Drake … they get stitches.”

Drake gave Alyssa a knowing look who doesn’t even seem to notice due to her own shock.

“Oh my god, Nikolas! What’d you do to her?”

The young boy flashed her a cocky wink and a smirk. “Nothing a long wig and pair of sunglasses can’t cover-up, my love.”

Alyssa snapped an astonished glance at her boyfriend who simply shrugged. “Told ya.”

She followed behind Nikolas who pulled out a chair at the table and started coloring.

She crouched down next to him and took a deep breath. “Okaaay. Look, Nik. I had a lotta fun hanging out with you today, I really did, but it’s probably best if you go back to your home for the night.”

Nikolas stopped coloring to look at her; his face crestfallen, and sighed. “I understand, Miss Alyssa. Just know that I will never forget you. Your smile … your laugh … your lovely lady lumps. That kick-ass grilled cheese you made me. And how you taught me to make useless shit with yarn and pipe cweaners … you make me want to be a better boy … a better prince for Condomonia.

Drake rolled his eyes and pulled his cell phone from his back pocket. “Give me a fucking break. I’m calling Liam right now and having him send someone to pick up your ass.”

Alyssa stood and leaned into Drake. “You probably should watch your language around him.”

“Seriously, Alyssa? The boy just said shit and that’s one of his milder ones,” he scoffed while placing the phone to his ear. “He once made the entire Royal Guard cry after bitching them out.”

Alyssa winced and scratched her head as Drake walked away to make his call. She was somewhat confused, having met Nikolas’ parents during a few social gatherings. Liam was always very courteous and respectful; every bit the compassionate leader she had heard of him. Riley appeared to be a loving mother who doted on her children and husband.

As she watched this child, with his little tongue sticking out while he worked studiously on a drawing of an anaconda that appeared to be squeezing the life out of the man she loved, Alyssa pondered whether he was just misunderstood. She was pulled from her thoughts when Drake moved up beside her with a fake laugh.

“Well...Apparently the entire palace is on a damn lock-down after they found the German Prime Minister hogtied in a linen closet. The German security forces won’t allow anyone in, or out until they catch the supposed midget in tactical gear that apparently waterboarded her. So, of course, Liam is busy dealing with that shit and Riley’s phone went straight to voicemail. Got anything you wanna confess kid”

Nikolas continued to color, completely unfazed. “I told her she could come out when she agreed to my dad’s trade steal. She smelled like an old lady anyway .. she wouldn’t have been missed.”

Drake ran a hand down his face, trying to keep his cool.

Alyssa pulled him to the opposite end of the kitchen and lowered her voice.

“Look, baby. Listen .... we’re not going to panic, okay?  I will keep him busy and out of your hair. He seems to respond well to me and we’ll just make the best of it, alright? 

“Lyssa … we had plans for tonight, remember? I really wanted to spank that sexy ass in those new restraints.” He flashed a devilish grin with a pinch to her backside

She bit her lip, returning a sultry gaze. “Oh that shit’s still happening, Drake Walker.”

“Promise?”

She stood on her tiptoes to place a peck on his lips. “Promise. As soon as he falls asleep.”   

Feeling a gnawing burn in the pit of his stomach, Drake ran his fingers through his hair and glanced at the little prince. “You really think you can handle him where we both don’t wind up in a shallow grave in the backyard?”

Alyssa stood up straighter with a confident smile. “I believe so, yes.” 

Drake sulked as he sauntered back across the kitchen and Alyssa began pulling pots from the cabinet.

He towered over the boy. “Okay, kid. You can stay.”

“Really?” Nikolas beamed.

Drake gave him a stern look while he lightly gripped the back of Nik’s neck. “Yeah. But, you try any funny shit, Nikolas and I swear to god I’ll bust your ass.”

Nikolas tried to stifle a laugh that he hoped his uncle noticed … and Drake did. “God, you’re such a little asshole. I’m gonna go feed the horses,” he dismissed.

“Alright Nik, how about you help me with dinner … spaghetti and meatballs!” Alyssa called cheerfully for him as she filled a pot with water.

“Anything for you, my queen!”

Alyssa was right in her assumption that Nik would not cause any problems for her. She didn’t say anything to him as the meatballs he formed were in the shape of penises; it was obvious he was fishing for attention. Drake, on the other hand, was quick to refuse to eat the “little dicks staring at him” for dinner, especially ones that had Nikolas grubby paws on them. 

And after playing an hour of Grand Theft Auto, in which he tried to teach her how to get the hooker to slash the throat of a pimp, he took a bath, brushed his teeth, and settled into the guest room.

“Good night, Miss Alyssa,” he croaked in his sleepy voice. He tucked the stuffed dragon his father gave him into his chest and closed his eyes.

She smiled as she flipped the light switch by the door. “Good night, Nikolas.”

Drake was still alive and in one piece, and Nikolas, surprisingly, hadn’t disturbed him the entire evening. Now it was time to retire the babysitter cap for the night and try out the new toy that she and Drake had been waiting for hours to use.

“He.Is.Out.” Alyssa proclaimed as she entered the master bedroom; her arms animating each word she spoke. 

Drake, who was standing on the top rung of a ladder wearing nothing but denim boxershorts, clipped a chain through a metal hook in the ceiling. “It’s about damn time!”

Alyssa gawked curiously at the contraption as the rest of the chain fell. She tugged on the bottom where two leather wrist cuffs were attached an arm’s length above her short frame. The last thing she wanted was a heavy strand of steel crashing down while Drake made a bad girl out of her. 

When she felt confident the chain was secure, she performed a sexy striptease while her lover’s hands roamed over each newly exposed section of skin. Drake unsnapped the metal buckles on the leather cuffs and fastened her wrist into each one.

“Wait! Aren’t you going to read the instructions?” Alyssa’s eyes flashed to Drake as if the idea suddenly popped into her head.

“Baby, I think I know what to do with these. Your hands go in here … and my hands …” He slid his fingers between her moistened folds. “go down there.” Alyssa shuddered at his husky voice and the feeling of anticipation that pooled inside of her.

Drake raised his brows. “You remember the safe word?”

“Hmm-mm. Bertrand,” she replied with a quick nod.

A smile dangled on the corner of his lips. “Very good.”

Drake slapped the leather flog across his hand and prowled like a wolf, ready to pounce its prey, around his girlfriend. Her arms outstretched tightly above her head.

“Somebody’s been a verrry bad, girl.” Alyssa teased. Her blue eyes shifting between the leather and his denim bulge.

“Oh yeah?”  He licked his lips while continuing his sensual stroll.

“Yeah. In fact, I’m undercover right now. I’m a whore … a very naughty whore.”

Drake halted his movements and raised the flog. “I suppose I’ll have to punish you then … my very naughty undercover whore.”

“Ohh no, Officer Walker! Please don’t hurt me! Me so horny, me love you long time!”

Meanwhile…

One, beady blue eye popped open from a disturbance occurring on the floor directly above him. It was a sound he wasn’t that familiar with. For the last year, he had memorized the sound of pain, yet this particular scream was unlike anything he had heard before from any of his usual victims. 

“Drake! Fuck that hurts!”

The second eye popped open. He heard her yell out again and again. The sound of torture and agony reverberated through the ceiling and fell upon his perked up ears. 

Was his Uncle Drake murdering Alyssa?

“Oh my god, Drake! You’re killing me!”

It seemed so.

But, would he actually murder his own girlfriend?

“Devereaux, I’m gonna shove this thing in you so hard.”

Likely.

Nikolas tossed off the covers and crept out of his bed. He slithered across the room, flipped on the lights, and retrieved his backpack that lay on top an old dresser. 

It was time to put a plan into action, save his woman and make sure Drake Walker regretted the day he’d ever been born.

[scribeofmorpheus]

His Girl Tuesday - Prologue

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Tuesday Adams x  Billy Hargrove

[Series Masterlist] [Main masterlist] [AO3]

A/N: I know I said I wouldn’t post any chapters for this fic yet, but I had to write down this opening scene before it disappeared. So now, we have a prologue and I just want to remind everyone, this series won’t pick up until I’ve concluded my on-going ones (let’s be honest though, how many times have I said this and then started a new fic immediately after?).

Warnings: NSFW, swearing, butchered Spanglish | Words: 2k

January, ‘85...

An open can of spaghetti, a bubbling pot of coffee and a sizzling pan were the three key signifiers that one half of the Adams household was awake.

Tuesday moved the spatula around as though she was digging through the strands of pasta to find some hidden treasure. When nothing was found, she took the pan off the hot hob and placed it on another, filling her mug with scalding hot coffee and unfolding the newspaper to do the crossword for the day. As she scribbled in the answer for five-across-six-down, her mind began to fill with static as a disembodied voice screeched in her head.

 "Please, no! Don't hurt me, please!"

Shattering sounds of teeth breaking; an echoing sinister laugh; wet coughs and splattering blood.

Tuesday pinched the bridge of her nose and drowned out the evasive inhuman shouts with a gulp of bitter coffee. Her temples throbbing something fierce.

"Ughh," she groaned as her vision filled with flares of light, a cold tingling shooting up her spine. The sensations were chased away by the familiar snoring sounds erupting from her father's burly chest over by the couch. His nasal rumble filled the small two-bedroom house with a conjoined dining and kitchen area with a billowing strength.

"Thanks, Dad," she whispered in relief, her father too deep in slumber to have heard her.

Tuesday poured the rest of her coffee into a thermos and washed up the dishes -making sure to put the morning's leftovers in a tupperware box in the fridge for when he woke up.

She grabbed her keys and slipped into her work overalls, her hand almost at the door when she caught a whiff of smoke from the pair of socks on the floor. With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, Tuesday grabbed her dad's socks and ventured into his room to pick up the discarded clothing left in scattered piles on his bedroom floor, stuffing them into the ancient washing machine before she grabbed his bedroom alarm clock and set it for 3 pm, placing it by the side table next to the couch so he won't sleep through it. She kissed him goodbye and hopped into her crappy jalopy on her way to work.

***

The sound of welding, hammering and an old tuned-out radio filled the grease smelling, poorly lit garage at Fix-em Up Auto Repair. Tuesday found the disorienting loudness of the small space comforting. It made it harder for her to hear the voices.

Whilst waist-deep in the engine of a yellow buggy, Tuesday saw a pair of dusty, worn-out combat boots walk her way. A smile creeping on her face.

"Hey, little missy, I'm looking to get a tune-up. Know who I can speak to about that?"

Tuesday removed herself from under the hood and pulled the lever down so it shut with a pathetic thud.

Wiping her hands on her rag, she shifted her toothpick from one cheek to the other, eyeing the man in front of her lasciviously, "Depends… What's the make?"

The blonde tugged on his leather jacket, advancing closer like a hunter on the prowl, "'82 Trans-Am."

Tuesday leaned onto the hood of the buggy, the metal straining under her weight. "Oh! Tough luck, buddy. I only work on real men's cars, like a mustang or a porch." Her tone grew more and more teasing.

"Real men's cars huh?" He took a step forward, his hips toughing her under-thighs.

 "What the hell are you freak?"

Wheezing; metal scraping against metal. A club whizzing through the air, flesh pressed inwards beyond where it should; eyes as black as ink.

Tuesday rubbed at her eyes with a soft mumble, vertigo pushing her further down, toothpick slipping through parted lips.

"Baby," he took her face in his hands, steadying her body. "You good?"

Tuesday clicked her tongue in frustration, "Yeah, just my bloody tinnitus. I'm fine Billy, just a dizzy spell."

Billy scratched at his untended scruff, "You really should get that looked at."

Tuesday rolled her eyes, hopping off the hood and walking towards the work desk area, "Sure, once Jack gives me a raise and I don't need to save up for college anymore."

Billy groaned, kicking his boots as he followed after her, "Again with that pipe-dream. There are more fun things than being glued to a classroom chair listening to depressed old professors who spend most of their time looking up girl's skirts."

"Oh, and I suppose you've got a better idea for what I should do with my future?" Tuesday lifted her eyebrows as she poured the morning's coffee into a paper cup.

"Yeah, I do," Billy leaned against the counter, licking his lips. "You and me, the open road, sleazy motels and greasy diner food."

Zipping down her overalls, Tuesday pulled her arms out of the sleeves, letting the cool air dry the sweat sticking to the hairs on her arms. She huffed, "Sounds charming."

Billy pulled out a cigarette from behind his ear, "Baby, if you wanted charming, you'd be working as a sexy little librarian, shelving books and wearing tight skirts, not beige overalls."

Tuesday popped a painkiller and took a sip of her bitter luke-warm drink, it was as dissatisfying as the quality of the music playing off the radio. Static fizzled in and out and the station's signal kept dropping unexpectedly. She balled her fist and banged on the cheap radio several times until it stopped.

Billy whistled, "You know, on second thought, maybe I don't need that tune-up after all."

A breathy laugh escaped her chapped lips, "Good, because I don't give out freebies." She took another swig. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but… isn't it your day off?"

"What, I can't come over and visit my girl on my day off?" Billy asked, lit cigarette held between his teeth.

Tuesday shrugged, "Your girl, huh?"

Squinting one eye, Billy leaned close to whisper, "Well I figured since friends don't make a habit of sleeping with each other…"

Tuesday punched his chest, firm muscles colliding with her dainty knuckles. Billy's eyes narrowed when he saw her lower shoulder. In a possessive move, he put out his cigarette on the vinyl counter, a black spot permanently burned into it as he rolled up the rest of her shirt's sleeve and moved her towards the light to get a better look at the purple and yellow mark imposing on her flesh.

"How'd you get this?" His voice held an edge to it, thick eyelashes covering his eyes under a dark hood.

Tuesday looked down at the bruise, previously unaware of its existence. With a nonchalant nod, she said, "Don't know. Must've bumped into something."

Billy unclenched and let her arm go, believing her easily. His silvery-blue eyes shedding their darkness in the process.

 "Son of a bitch! You thought you could kill me?"

The electric hum of fluorescence; the reverberation of shattering glass; a sickly sinking feeling like drowning in tar; cold, frozen-ice cold.

Tuesday shook her head, today was one of the worse days.

"You sure you're okay?" Billy questioned, his hand lifting her chin to meet his penetrating gaze.

For a moment she flirted with the idea of saying no just to see how he'd react, but she knew Billy was coarse, lacking a sensitive touch. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he had closed that part of him off, forming a tough shell around himself as a form of self-preservation. That closed-off nature of his brought forth a roughness in him that had initially drawn Tuesday to him. It made him a great distraction and a great lay. And right now, she felt desperate for an escape.

Licking her lips, Tuesday leaned in close to nibble at his parted lips. At first, he didn't move, he simply let her lavish his mouth with her tongue. Then with a pleased groan, Billy wrapped his hands around her midriff and pulled her into a deep kiss.

 "You'll pay for tha--"

Quiet: empty, hollow… free.

Tuesday let out a thankful gasp when the voices died out. Looking up she noticed Billy's pupils had diluted with hunger, the saliva on his lips making them shine like a well-maintained paint job.

"Your house empty?" he asked.

"Uh-uh, my dad had a late shift, he'll probably still be there."

Billy's nostrils flared as he let out a deep exhale at the anti-climax.

Tuesday's lips curled upwards at the prospect of an alternative, "What about your car?"

"You read my mind."

"Juan, I'm heading out for an early lunch!" Tuesday shouted at the man in the back office.

"Is Jack, Jack! We're open. Only Juan after closing!" Her boss shouted back with a thick Puerto Rican accent.

"Right, sorry Jack!" Tuesday corrected and Billy scrunched his eyebrows together.

***

Billy's strong grip directed Tuesday in the backseat of his car. Seat buckles, cassette covers and random junk food wrappers pressed into her back, the sound of rustling filling in between the moans and pants.

"Fuck," Billy grumbled as he had issue unbuttoning his tight jeans, his erection bulging against the frame hugging material.

Tuesday giggled as she ran her fingers up his thighs, across his bulge and towards his button.

Billy bit his lip, savouring her exploring touch. With a satisfying pop, his jeans were loosened and he pulled them down to his knees. With greedy fingers, Billy yanked down Tuesday's overalls and pulled her bra over her breasts until it rested just shy of her neck.

Tuesday's open palm pressed against his exposed abs, halting Billy's efforts to undress her. Sighing, he asked, "What is it?"

"You got protection, Romeo?"

Billy riffled through his pockets and a frown grew over his heated gaze, "Son of a bitch!" The muscles in his jaw started working before they uncoiled and his eyes widened at the glovebox.

Reaching over, he pulled out all the cassette's and spare change and moved a hair comb out of the way until he spotted a golden wrapper.

The condom unrolled over his dick with a slapping noise, Tuesday giggled as Billy's face contorted into a painful pursing of his lips for a brief second.

"That wasn't funny," Billy grumbled as he leaned over her.

Tuesday wiggled out of her panties before wrapping her legs around his back, "It was a little funny."

What followed after was a reel of thrusts, hair tugging, gasps and suckling kisses peppered around Tuesday's neck and collarbone. Billy's hips began to sputter as he neared his climax, his thumb adding delicious pressure on Tuesday's clit as her walls undulated and contracted around him. Semen filled the condom and the both of them lay limp in his backseat, the fogged up windows obscuring the ugly view of the garage's empty parking lot.

Tuesday patted Billy on the back, "Nice work, lover boy. I needed that."

Billy's chest vibrated as a bemused laugh tickled her ears, "I don't know about you, but after this work out I could use a bite to eat."

"Food sounds divine right now."

Billy kissed the corner of her eye that folded slightly, pulling himself from inside her, "Fries?"

Tuesday nodded.

***

"What was with that ‘Jack not Juan’ stuff earlier?" Billy dipped two fries in ketchup while Tuesday slurped up her coke through a red and white straw.

"Mmm, its stupid but it's sort of a sales thing. Jack noticed a bump up in his commissions when people thought the owner of Fix-em Up was named Jack and not Juan, so he stuck with it."

"You're right, that is stupid."

"C'est la vie."

In the corner of her eye, Tuesday noticed a family of six sitting in a booth by the window. The neon open sign bathing all four kids in bright magenta. One of the kids looked up at her and pulled at his eyelids, tongue sticking out. His mother, noticing this, pulled him by the ear and scolded him in stern whispers.

"Fucking brats," Billy murmured as he lounged deeper in the seat.

Tuesday redirected her gaze to the humming florescence above, "C'est la vie."

***

After her lunch break, Tuesday rapped on Jack's door with a take-out bag in hand, loud Cuban music playing from within.

"Si?"

Tuesday opened the door halfway, "Lunch."

"Ah, gracias."

"De nada."

Jack beamed her a thankful smile, "You finish with the bug?"

"Mmm, almost, just need to oil her up and check the brake line."

Jack gave her a thumbs up, "Okay."

"Did Sam fix the gato?"

Jack looked at her with a confused expression, mustard on his cheek from the burger, "The cat?"

Tuesday slapped her palm on her forehead at the obvious linguistic slip-up before making a cranking motion with her hands, "The jack."

"Ah, the gato!" Jack said in recognition. "Yes, he send it. It's in the back. He wanted to charge extra dinero. That Estúpido. I told him I know the prices, he can't cheat me. I may not speak good Inglés, but I'm no idiot either."

"I told you not to go to Sam, he's… a hard-ass."

"Hard-ass?"

"Forget it, I'm going to finish up on the bug."

Jack gave another thumbs up in exchange of words, his mouth full of bread and meat.

 The burn of liquid cascading down a dry gullet leaving behind a buzz of alcohol assimilating through veins; a rapid heartbeat; tingles of adrenaline swirling in an intoxicating downward spiral.

“Again?” Tuesday braced her temples, body swaying yet again. "Come on!"

When the dizzy spell passed, she picked up the car jack and placed it under the buggy. As she cranked the lever, the jack groaned suspiciously. Tuesday cocked her head to the side, taking a step back and eyeing the jack to see if it would hold. Despite the alarming groans, the car didn't move an inch.

"Sam, you better have fixed it like you said," she thought aloud.

With a gulp of air, Tuesday pulled the creeper to her feet so she could sit on it, fixing a head torch onto her head.

Using the floor as an oar, Tuesday rolled herself under the car and started working underneath the car.

While she busied herself, another set of tires rolled up to the garage and the sound of car doors being opened and slammed echoed through the room.

"Hello?" A masculine voice called out as the bell dinged. Several smaller footsteps gathered after him in the garage too. An argument playing out between two kids about a film or something other.

When Jack didn't answer, and the bell dinged for a second time, Tuesday shouted out, "Over here. Gimmie a moment!"

The crank groaned again and then a nut flew off its side and suddenly the car started to plummet down. Tuesday braced her face as everything moved in slow motion. When a second past and Tuesday remained uncrushed, she peeked through her folded arms and was shocked to see the car moving away from her body, gliding over to the side where it landed with a loud crash.

"Holy shit," she mouthed in disbelief, eyelids pulled back as far as they could go as she craned her head to the group of people standing by the counters.

A girl with short hair wiped the blood from her nose with the inside of her flannel shirt. The group of boys standing next to her with mouths gaping open -though something told her it wasn't in amazement from what she just saw. The oldest among them rushed to her side, sneakers squeaking against the concrete floor, hands bracing hers as he helped her up.

"You're Steve Harrington," Tuesday recognised him from high-school. "And that's Nancy Wheeler's younger brother."

"I guess we can't pretend to be out of towners," Steve half-joked as he ran his hands through his hair and then around Tuesday's frame in a pre-emptive effort to ensure she didn't topple over from shock. "You're uh… Wednesday right?"

"Tuesday," her voice was soft, bewildered even. Her eyes narrowing now at the group of kids who backed away without losing eye contact, "What…" She looked up at Steve. "What the fuck just happened?"

  To be continued...

Permatags:  @gruffle1 @thechickvic @notawarriorjustyet @savethehoneeybees   

Meet Cute & Robin’s Girl taglist: @chims-kookies @electroma89 @thechickvic @mochminnie @timeladygallifrey

[appreciate-kaimaki]

can we get a scenario with kaito asking maki to a high school dance, and maybe a little description of what they’d do at said dance?

This one has literally been in our askbox for months... I'm terribly sorry this took so long to complete, anon! My perfectionism really got to me on this one because it really struck a chord in me, and I was trying a bit too hard to make it flawless. I've got it under control now... I think. Anyhow, please enjoy the fic under the cut! I had an absolute blast writing this, and I hope you enjoy some shameless Kaimaki fluff.

~Mod Shuichi~

Momota Kaito was a man with much bravado, able to bear the rigorous regimen of the astronaut training program and face the myriad dangers of outer space without batting an eye. Yet, as he prowled the corridors of Hope's Peak High School with his best friend-slash-roommate Shuichi in tow, the spaceman couldn't help but fear the task he was now about to face. The Homecoming Dance was looming a mere week ahead, and Kaito had decided to take the opportunity to try and take his longtime crush, Harukawa Maki, as his date.

That, however, was something much easier said than done. The obsidian-haired girl had the nickname of 'ice queen', which had not come without reason - she was known to ward off anyone foolish enough to dare approach her with a silent glare which, according to Kibo, was capable of cutting holes in metal.

Shuichi sighed. "Please tell me what you see in her, again?"

"I don't know! There's... this something about her that makes me want to know her better."

"If you insist. Just come back in one piece." With that, the detective left Kaito and his girl troubles to hang with his other friends. Kaito wasn't entirely sure that he could return without injury, however, as he slowly appraoched Maki's seat. Hoping his voice wasn't quivering too much, he extended a trembling finger and tapped her shoulder.

"Hey, Harukawa?"

Any semblance of control Kaito had left evaporated like a snowflake on the Sun as Maki finally turned to face him and fixed him in her crimson stare. When she spoke, he could instantly understand what Kibo meant.

"What do you want?"

So this was what it felt like to have his blood freeze in his veins, Kaito thought. Despite his best efforts to control his own speech, his paralyzed tongue could only stutter out,

"Uh, doyouwanttogotothedancewithme?"

The following five seconds were simultaneously the longest, most awkward, and most terrifying moments in Kaito's life. 'That's it,' he concluded. 'I'm gonna show up on tomorrow's news as a dismembered corpse.' Frozen in fear, he missed the look of surprise flashing across the obsidian-haired girl's face - but not her reply.

"Yes. I'll go with you."

"Uhwhat?"

Maki's face immediately morphed into a scowl as she turned away, but it was impossible to miss the shade of vibrant red now gracing her features. For a moment, Kaito thought it matched her eyes very well.

"Do I have to repeat myself? I said I'll go with you, loser!"

Internally ecstatic at her words but also not wanting to incur Maki's wrath by overstaying his welcome, Kaito left her a muttered 'thanks' as he hurriedly shuffled over to Shuichi.

"She say yes?", the detective asked.

Kaito could only let out a deep, relieved sigh. "In a sense."

The remaining week vanished in a flurry of hurried preparations, and soon the big day was upon them. The dormitory hallways were bustling and abuzz with activity as a myriad of Ultimates clad in their finest suits and dresses searched for their dates. Kaito and Shuichi also joined the crowd as they too made their way to the girls' dorms.

"Ugh, I'm never gonna get used to having my arm inside my sleeve," the spaceman muttered. He had dressed in a deep purple tuxedo with a smattering of glittering 'stars' on the lower hem for the occasion, but the formality of the event meant that he couldn't just throw it over his shoulder like he usually did with his jacket.

"Can't relate," his friend replied. He was also wearing a tux, but a more low-profile charcoal gray one with barely visible graphite pinstripes. "Most normal people wear their jackets properly, Kaito."

Kaito waved him off. "Pssh, who cares. Normal is overrated anyway."

Their discussion about sleeves and arms were abruptly interrupted when Akamatsu Kaede all but teleported in front of them, her pink strapless recital dress fluttering behind her and a lilac purple ribbon decorating her bosom.

"Found you, Shuichi! And hi to you too, Kaito. Mind if I steal him away for the night?"

An astounded Kaito turned to his sidekick. "Man, someone got lucky! How the hell did you end up going with her? Never thought you'd be her type..."

"To be honest, I have no idea," the detective replied with a shrug. "She asked me, actually."

Pouting, Kaede put her hands on her hips. "Hey hey, Kaito! No badmouthing my date here! Oh, by the way, who are you going with?"

"Harukawa Maki. I was just going over to pick her up."

"Oh, that's good to hear! She always seemed so lonely. Hope things work out great between you two!", the pianist chirped as she took Shuichi's hand and led him away. Left alone once again, Kaito resumed his search for Maki's room.

Finally facing the door, Kaito steeled his nerves one last time. Taking a girl to a dance wasn't supposed to be hard, even if she was his longtime crush who could, in fact, literally crush him to powder should anything go wrong.

"C'mon, Kaito. You're the Luminary of the Stars... you can do anything you put your mind to... the impossible is possible, you just gotta make it so!"

Reciting his mantra to himself, Kaito finally knocked on her door. He honestly had no idea what he expected to see, but the sight he faced when the door finally opened utterly blew him away. Maki had chosen a scarlet gothic lolita-style dress with generous amounts of black lace frills and a slim halter top that was only held up by a pair of impossibly thin spaghetti straps that crossed over her back before disappearing into her corset. It matched her onyx hair and crimson eyes perfectly, and she looked stunning beyond compare. Even her usual hair scrunchies seemed different... shinier, somehow. Kaito guessed they were some sort of satin.

"Stop staring, idiot!"

"O, oh! Of course, I'm sorry." Snapping out of his Maki-induced stupor, he offered her his arm.

"Shall we go?"

Maki wordlessly nodded and took his arm, and the duo made their way towards the gym where the dance was being held.

Homecoming was a very extravagant affair. Most of the artistically inclined Ultimates had been conscripted to decorate the gym into a party hall, and they had delivered splendidly. The ceiling was nearly invisible from all the banners and streamers that had been hung up, and the floor had been transformed into a polished dance floor with rich velvet carpets around the edges where the tables were. A veritable buffet of snacks, drinks, and refreshments were set out on one side, and a state-of-the-art sound system and a grand piano had been installed on the stage to complete the lavish atmosphere.

Many students had already taken to the dance floor, swaying to the music with their dates as light jazz played over the gym. As Kaito glanced at his date, unsure to ask if she wanted to dance or not, Maki suddenly whirled on him with a fiercely determined look on her face and all but dragged him off to the center of the venue.

"Wha- wh- Maki?!"

"Shut up and dance with me."

Kaito did not object. He allowed Maki to lead him in a foxtrot, the girl surprisingly well-versed in dancing to the point that Kaito had to put in a bit of effort to keep up at first. He caught on soon, however, and found himself gazing into his date’s crimson eyes as they settled into a steady rhythm. They were quite mesmerizing, Kaito thought, like swirling nebulae glowing with starlight…

He was jolted back to his senses by a finger that poked dangerously close to his left eye. "WAH!"

"Earth to space idiot," Maki chided. "You almost stepped on my foot there."

Kaito, as always, was not without a comeback. "It's not my fault you're so breathtakingly beautiful."

"Do you want to die?"

"Sorry, sorry!"

Maki's lips thinned into a line and her brow grew a slight crease as she stared into his tie, her feet slowing for a moment as she sunk into thought. "Do you really think I'm beautiful?", she mumbled.

"Of course! Even more than the brightest star!"

She blushed a beautiful shade of apple red and not-so-subtly brought her heel down on his toes.

"Ow!"

"That's for making me lose my composure."

"You really do look hot when you blush- ow!"

The pair continued to dance to the music, Maki's face now significantly redder than before. Kaito couldn't help but smile - he had his perfect date, the dance was going splendidly, and everything was just so perfectly well!

The tone of the event would soon undergo a complete shift, however. Ibuki-senpai soon took over the stage with her trademark 'music' of unintelligible screaming and yelling, and the once-calm party was now more closely resembling a rave than a dance. Kaito couldn't bring himself to understand how anyone could actually appreciate the cacophony issuing from the stage, but judging by the crowd's reaction it seemed he was the exception, not the norm.

"Wanna get outta here?", he asked his date, who thankfully seemed to share his opinion on the Ultimate Musician's 'music'. Although Maki was standing right next to him, he had to shout at the top of his lungs to be heard over the senseless din echoing in the gym.

"Please!", she yelled back.

Covering their ears, the pair headed out to the school's garden where the full moon was casting its light. Glad to be away from the chaos, they found a bench and sat in a comfortable silence for a while. When he was sure the ringing in his ears had finally subsided, Kaito asked Maki the one question he had been itching to know for the entirety of the past week.

"Why did you say yes when I asked? To the dance, I mean."

Maki averted her eyes from the astronaut, but her blush was impossible to miss. "I... I might've had a bit of a crush on you."

"Wow, I never knew that. I knew I had a crush on you, but this is... why?"

"You showed Yumeno your notes when she got sick and missed school last week. You became Saihara's friend when he was alone. You actually listen to what Tojo has to say. And you're kind and friendly to anyone and everyone you meet."

"I'm afraid I still don't see the connection."

Maki let out a small sigh. "I'm not very good with people. I want to get closer to them and make friends, but I just lash out and scare them away. But you always showed so much kindness to everyone. So I thought maybe, you were the one I could try and get close to."

"I'm honored - wait, how did you know all that?"

"I'm observant."

"Anyway, that's no big problem, Maki Roll. I wasn't really good at being social from the get-go, too." In an incredibly bold move even to himself, Kaito put an arm around Maki's shoulder. Even more surprisingly, she actually leaned into it. "I know you're a good person. I'll make sure help you every step of the way, and you'll be making lots of friends soon. I swear by the name of the Luminary of the Stars!"

"Did you just call me Maki Roll?"

Panicking, Kaito instantly froze. The nickname was something he came up with in the spur of the moment, but had he chosen the wrong thing to say? "Uh, sorry 'bout that, it was kinda stupid, I'll stop if you don't like it."

Then Maki burst into silent giggles.

"No, I love it. Nobody's ever given me such a cute nickname before. Sorry I scared you, it's the eyes, isn't it? I have to work on my expressions..." Her smile was clear on her face as she looked up towards him once more.

Kaito grinned. "Actually, I think you're cute even with the murder eyes. It's unique... it's something only you can pull off."

"Oh, shut up."

Chuckling at her remark, Kaito took her hand in his and stood up. He led her over to a small circular clearing in the middle of the garden where the moonlight shone brightest, fiddled with his phone, and set it down on the floor. The suave voice of Frank Sinatra soon filled the air.

Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars...

"What are we doing?", a surprised Maki asked.

"Dancing! The night is still young, after all, and I don't want to waste my beautiful date because the music isn't to our taste." He took a step back and bowed, extending a hand to her like he did earlier. "Shall we dance, milady?"

Maki took the offered hand. "Gladly."

Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars...

Moonlight illuminated the two of them like a dream as Maki allowed herself to be led by Kaito in a gentle waltz. Her crimson dress flared out like a blooming rose with each spin, and his star-studded coattails flew in the wind with each move they shared.

In other words, hold my hand… in other words, darling, kiss me!

The pair danced all around the garden with hands clasped tight, softly mouthing the words to the song that was serenading them. The experience was similar yet completely unlike the dances they danced in the gym only hours ago - this time it was infinitely more private and intimate, a show for the two of them only. Lost in each other's company, it seemed to them as if they had been transported to a realm of nothing but moonlight and soft music and rosebushes and each other.

In other words, please be true... in other words, I love you!

The song came to a close as Kaito swept Maki into a dip, their faces hovering a mere inch apart. Purple eyes met red, neither able to look away. Lips were parted to let out warm breaths that quickened as both realized how close they were to each other. The pair were in perfect balance, each holding the other in place with their very body. And just as it seemed the fragile yet beautiful moment could last forever...

Maki took hold of Kaito's collar, drew him closer, and kissed him full on the lips.

It was as if time itself had stopped. The rustling of the leaves in the wind, the dull thumping of the music from the gym, and even the glow of the moonlight shining above melted away from her senses. There was nothing left behind but his slightly rough but warm lips on her own, the firm fabric of his jacket under her hands and his toned back beneath it, his gentle and sweet scent in her lungs and the pleasant tingling in her heart. In short, it was nothing but perfect. She could have spent an eternity in that single shining moment and never get tired of it.

Unfortunately for Maki, a slew of doubts started bubbling up to the surface like fizz in a glass of soda the moment her brain caught up to her body. Here she was, with her lips on some boy she'd literally known for barely a few hours. What if she was overreacting to someone who'd only shown her basic kindness? What if she was overstepping her boundaries when Kaito only thought of her as a friend - and a closed-off and distant one at that? What if he thought of her as clingy and obsessed over him in all the wrong ways?

"I'm sorry," she breathed, "that was uncalled for. I shouldn't have done that." She hurriedly pulled away, disentangling from his warm comfortable embrace. She was all ready to flee from the garden, flee from her traitorous emotions and this stupid feeling in her chest when a gentle hand grabbed her wrist.

"Maki Roll," Kaito whispered, "if you wanted a kiss you could've just asked."

He pulled her back into his arms in one swift movement, into that intoxicating black hole of warmth she would never be able to escape, and kissed her again with all the passion in his heart.

And of course, like all things, the second time was even better than the first.

[qutemag]

The movie guy reviews: Transformers -- The Last Knight

Article by Benjamin Harkin

Here we are. Every critic relishes this review, and many online have already let forth the torrent of bile that Transformers: The Last Knight deserves. Every Transformers movie I go in hoping I’ll be somewhat surprised that the movie reaches a baseline of ‘okay’, and bar maybe the third one which was brighter, more colourful and contained John Malkovich, every time I walk out frustrated and despairing. People say Michael Bay is an auteur – an auteur of what? Glorified tech demos? Showing off what the Industrial Light & Magic team can do? Because that’s all these movies have going for them. This is evident with the multiple aspect ratios, that’s right, IMDb records this movie showing three different aspect ratios, and another place thought the trailer had eight. You have black bars darting all around the image as the movie crops itself to fit around funky new cameras Michael Bay wants to toy with for the sponsorship. It is the weirdest, most distracting shit to see a movie switching aspect ratios all the way through for no discernible reason.

The film feels like six films meshed into one, or perhaps six plot threads focus-grouped into oblivion and smooshed together in a way that made some executive in a high-backed chair shift lazily in their seat to turn off the preview footage and say “fuck it, that’ll do” for the three editors to hastily clip together in something resembling a two and a half hour film. There’s the scene with a post-apocalyptic New York, ravaged after the climax of Transformers 4, with Transformers living in hiding of the anti-Transformers defense force set up to catch them, now that Optimus Prime is paralysed, orbiting the earth in a shell of his former self. Some foolhardy boys break into a ruined stadium with a giant jet engine ploughed into the field, saying self-aware bulldust like “we’re kids, we always get away with stuff!” Yes, that’s a fucking line in this movie. And not the worst by a mile. Then prowling the streets, looking under rubble, they run into a Transformer hiding itself under scrap. Couldn’t radar easily detect the hulking masses like Transformers for the military to destroy? Apparently fucking not, if a Transformer hides among some rubble, that’s a-okay. The kids then run into a girl, a strong-willed, adventurous-sounding 14-year-old who’s making her own way among the debris jungle and a close friend to this Transformer that gets mortally wounded by a fighter jet trying to save the kids. And do you think Bay uses this setup to anchor the film with a young heroine, make a movie that takes a U-turn on everything that the hypermasculine, Megan Fox-ass loving, dumb as a post joke-making crap that has defined his Transformers series? Fuck no, all the boys dialogue towards this girl is along the lines of “wow…she’s hot!” and “Are you single?” Fucking gross and sad is all I can say. Michael Bay can’t wait to get started on the explosions, objectification, and immaturity. The young girl doesn’t do anything of note in the movie, hell, I can’t even remember her name. She gets sidelined at the halfway point, literally left behind in a junkyard with her BB-8 rip-off robot. Michael Bay instead wheels out the contractually obliged Megan Fox stand-in to be the impetus for Mark Wahlberg to do something in the movie and crack a few lines about how single they both are. Wahlberg was probably given acting advice to approach the character by showing a face in deep thought over how utterly hot it would be if he and the Oxford tour-guide Megan Fox stand-in lady banged with the Transformers watching.

“Are you single?” proves to be a theme in this movie, more than any kind of motif or any of the half-mumbled prattling about values that Optimus Prime manages to heave out of this exhaustingly mind-numbing, overbloated movie. Characters are defined by whether they’re single or not, not whether they fight for honesty, or freedom, or love, or caring for friends, or whether they want to be friends with giant robots. Nah it’s the fact that Mark Wahlberg and Megan Fox stand-in in this movie are on steroids and the camera treats them like they’re perpetually posing for Tinder. Characters from earlier in the series, like John Turturro, make manically unintelligible appearances to rant about doomsday situations. A physics scientist gets laughed at when he tells the president the world will end in roughly three days. Optimus Prime manages to awake himself out of being basically a dead robot to shoot himself somehow across the galaxy onto his home planet of Cybertron, which he knows was destroyed but fuck it, why not go there for refuge? And why not fall back to earth if you’re a dead shell of a Transformer? Nah, the logic in this movie is adverse to science or plot logic, or continuity, or good filmmaking, his dead body can float across the galaxy instead! Cybertron is now run by some Sorceress Robot Woman who twists Optimus into getting Cybertron fixed as a planet by colliding it with earth to suck up the planet’s core. Fucking who knows. Cybertron somehow flies across the universe in the time it takes this movie to skim across five other unresolved plot threads, like why Mark Wahlberg has a spiderly amulet thing that’s super powerful and what he is actually supposed to do with it, or what the whole deal was with the three-headed dragon robot that appears at points throughout the film, or why Megatron wants to break out his mates Suicide Squad-style or why the humans are willing to work with Megatron who was the bane of everyone for the previous four movies, or why John Goodman’s cigar-chomping Transformer gets blown up by rockets and falls over, presumed dead as the camera cuts to a new scene, then he just randomly reappears later on, or why Bumblebee fought Nazis in WWII. And the location used for the scene of Nazis being blown to smithereens, full with Swastika banners draped over the looming building? That my friends is Winston Churchill’s house. I’m sure Britain’s favourite wartime leader, known for everything Hitler was not, span so hard in his grave he tunnelled to the earth’s core.

Stanley Tucci plays a drunk Merlin in a flashback to the Dark Ages, for reasons never fully explored, despite being another character in the present for the previous movie. The Great Tucci Retcon. Oh and there’s Anthony Hopkins too. A wisened masterclass of an actor, made remarkably awkward and a total caricature for a man who used to be Hannibal Lector. He’s in this, 110% for the paycheck. Bay makes him say ‘duuuude’ and ‘that’s a bitch-ass car!’ because it’s cool to make grandpa say hip things sometimes. He has a robot butler assistant who’s also a borderline homicidal maniac for reasons that are never explained. He also has a WWI tank Transformer who has ‘robot-dementia’ or whatever which is an interesting concept far too intriguing for a movie this unforgiveably terrible so the Transformer is yet another sidelined idea in a litany of focus-grouped half-baked brain farts.

The entire movie is unfunny, every joke (and there are heaps, all undercutting the otherwise dead-serious grit and aimed at the lowest denominator possible while conscious) hits like a fucking sledgehammer wielded by lemurs on crack, rushed in delivery, painfully without any semblance of cleverness or wit, the setup too predictable and the payoff so fucking moronic, with editing so poor in timing that a joke about the butler robot playing the sweeping Transformer themes on an organ to give the scene a gravitas was completely lost when Anthony Hopkins cranked his sad, demur grimace up to the butler so slow you could’ve gone to the bathroom and back and the joke would still be playing out. I’ve said it once after Pain & Gain and I’ll say it again: Michael Bay cannot direct comedy and he shouldn’t. For whatever reason the gift of a funny bone doesn’t materialise in the filmmaking process.

The fight scenes are meh. Every one lacks any weight because frankly you don’t give a fuck about any of this while watching. You don’t care which Transformer fights which because they’re all so underutilised and shallow that you could probably get more pizzazz in banging your stapler against the computer mouse on a slow day at the office. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s how half these scenes of metal clunking against metal were storyboarded. And they don’t mean anything either, Transformers are rarely shown actually being killed, and yet the ones shown dying without any fights or lead-up (because the editing is god-awful and rushed) are full on bleeding weird green blood which is probably too violent for a young kid, which is where this gritty, dark-looking, yet oddly cartoonish spaghetti-works is squarely aimed.

I should probably end this review somewhere. This sounds like a good place. I could go on and honestly, part of me felt the usual catharsis of a critic tearing a big-budget Hollywood mess to shreds, and giving the finger to this kind of spiteful, audience-hating focus-grouped piss that flows through the summer action blockbuster gate from time to time, but another part of me doesn’t feel that catharsis. Instead, a part of me feels a silent rage, because I know this review, or any other review, or any of all the people who happen to see these movies for what I could only describe as sheer self-flagellation and tell everyone else it is complete garbage, it won’t stop Michael Bay making Transformers, and it sure as hell won’t stop the franchise. Somehow this is what gets bankrolled over those millions of other screenplays of what could be great action blockbusters. Michael Bay has said he’s stepping down from the Transformers franchise, but that’s what he always says. Paramount have two more Transformers movies lined up for the next two years, they see this as being able to grow out into yet another expanded universe franchise with Bumblebee getting a spin-off movie. I know this is useless, this review. It’s just words screamed into a void, a void of producers and executives running endless focus groups, workshopping the movies through too many editors and writers and camera lenses for maximum 3D so everyone can spend the biggest amount of dollars possible. Because this is the thing: Michael Bay doesn’t care. Mark Wahlberg doesn’t care. Anthony Hopkins doesn’t care. Maybe the digital effects people care. All the people involved in this production, they watch the finished product and I’m sure that no matter where they thought their part was going, they were a little deflated and depressed by it too, especially the fifth time around, but they can forget about their shame at the end of the day. Because they’re all getting their paycheck and a contract for Transformers 6, and you’re doing yourself out of the $20+ you spent to see this rotten film.

(Transformers: The Last Knight is currently showing.)