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#(which was a big clue on how the order is)
coquelicoq · 11 months
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i completely solved a cryptic crossword for the first time the other day! this is huge for me because i've always been so annoyed by them lol. but i kinda get it now, it is very satisfying to figure them out.
that said, there are several answers where i still do not totally understand the clues. if anyone who is familiar with cryptics (sometimes just called "crosswords" outside of the US) wants to help me out, i'd be very interested to hear your take!
this cryptic was in the 2022 puzzle mania edition of the nyt (released at the very end of the year), so if you are planning to solve it and haven't yet, i guess don't read this? lol. since i waited five months to do it i feel like that will apply to no one, but just in case.
i realized after drafting this post that the answer key is available online (here), but it did not actually answer my questions in every case, so i've kept my original text but added the answer key answer after each one in case it makes more sense to you than it does to me.
13A. Has misgivings about deception to an auditor (4): RUES. so "has misgivings about" is the definition of "rues". but i don't know what "deception to an auditor" is doing. could it have something to do with the fact that "rues" is a homonym and anagram of "ruse", a kind of deception? but i still can't figure out what "to an auditor" is for.
the answer key gives "homophone ruse" for this, so i guess i was right about the deception part, but i still don't get the auditor thing.
14A. A con almost grabs actor's awards left unbalanced (10): ASYMMETRIC. so EMMYS is hidden backwards in "asymmetric", which takes care of "actor's awards" and "left", and "asymmetric" means "unbalanced", i guess. so that leaves "A con almost grabs", along with the A and TRIC of the answer. i can't figure out how to make those relate to each other.
answer key says "a(symmE)trick – k (rev. Emmys)". fuck does that mean?? why are we subtracting the k? and i'm still not really sure what the con is there for?
26A. Concentrate for spare and strike (5): THINK. "concentrate" is the definition of "think". what is the "for spare and strike" doing??
answer key: "thin + K". okay i see how thin = spare but wherefore this K? does K stand for strike in baseball? that sounds vaguely familiar...
28A. African country returned Los Angeles family inheritance (7): SENEGAL. senegal is an african country, and it's also an anagram of angeles. i'm guessing the "returned" is a clue for the anagram? but what is "family inheritance" for? oh wait, senegal backwards is LA genes!! but then is it just a coincidence that "angeles" anagrams to "senegal", or is that indicated in the clue somewhere???
answer key: "rev. L.A. + genes". okay so it does sound like angeles being an anagram of senegal is a coincidence, or at least not covered in the clue?? seems like a missed opportunity but what do i know.
5D. Largely moderate Arizona city (5): TEMPE. tempe is a city in arizona. what's "largely moderate" doing here?
answer key: "temper – r". am i to understand that this is saying moderate = temper and the "largely" part of the clue is telling me to keep most but not all of "temper"?
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redhotarsenic · 10 months
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YEAH BEAT NEON WHITE
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ofalltheginjoints · 2 years
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look what came 🥰🥰🥰 ft an absolute masterpiece from absolute legend @partiallypoison
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kbagraces · 27 days
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Give Me Love - LN4
Lando Norris x fwb!Reader
summary: in his previous relationships he couldn’t protect them from the backlash of simply being with him. but will protecting only end up hurting you?
loosely based off give me love by ed sheeran
(not proof read)
"Give me love like her, 'cause lately I've been waking up alone"
He missed all of you.
He missed the way you laughed, covering your smile as you did so. He never understood why you were insecure of your smile. So he spent almost every minute with you trying to make you smile, eyes crinkled, he'd grab your hand attempting to get a glimpse of your scrunched up face.
He missed the way you ranted about topics you saw online, your voice rising slightly with passion as you spoke on things which either filled you with passion or disdain. More often than not he wouldn't have a clue what you were talking about but he loved how invested you were.
He missed the way you spoke. How you acted. He missed you.
When you weren't around the void couldn't be filled, he knew that but that didn't stop him attempting to disperse his feelings with emptiness.
Random girls residing in his bed while you were back in England or when he was flying around the world. He knew it was wrong but he'd picture your face beneath him as he fucked these strangers. That's all it was, a quick fuck. Momentary bliss before the clarity hit and he'd remember it wasn't you writhing from his touch.
He lay beside the girl who ever so slightly resembled you. He noticed her falling asleep, he used her so he decided to be courteous and at least let her stay the night, hoping she'd slip out before he awoke.
Since you, he never slept beside another girl, he made his way to his spare room, climbing in the smaller bed. You frequented his mind more as of recent. You'd only left a few weeks ago as his summer break began. You'd managed to book a few days holiday to visit him in his home in Monaco. The time you spent together was precious to both of you. You both treated each other as delicate, breakable items. You knew the other was in reach but not yours to keep.
You'd had multiple conversations across your 2 years of friendship about becoming more, never fully tried on both parts. Lando's fondness of you found him wanting to keep you away from the media as much as possible. They knew you existed, but they didn't know much about you and he wanted to keep it that way. He wanted to protect you, he couldn't in his previous relationships, losing girls he thought he loved due to media and fan scrutiny. And his feelings for you were a thousand times more intense, he couldn't put you through that. He couldn't hurt you.
You on the other hand were hurting because of that. You knew he had good intentions but seeing him stumble out of clubs with girl after girl left a sour taste in your mouth. He felt no shame exposing his promiscuity to the media thus you couldn't help feeling the rising feeling of perhaps he was ashamed of you. He reassured you that wasn't at all true but the insecurity crept through from time to time.
You adored him. Before him life was grey, you worked in a small coffee shop, all your friends moving on to big and beautiful jobs whilst you struggled to get by. Your dream was to own your own cafe so you muddled on by in your mediocre job saving every penny to fulfil your dream. Then Lando came along. Ordering a coffee from the cafe you worked in almost every day that he was back in the UK.
The conversation was easy and the friendship blossomed. No man has made you as happy as Lando has. A few months into your friendship Lando admitted to you he didn't even like coffee, he simply panicked the first time he saw you. His return to the shop everyday was just to see you, he simply tolerated the bitter taste just to speak to you.
When Lando heard of your dream he begged for you to let him buy you a cafe and get you started, you refused every time. In fact you rarely let him spend any money on you, paying your way as much as possible. Obviously some extravagant dates he'd taken you on in quiet towns across different countries your wage didn't come close to, but other than that you were as independent as your salary would allow.
Lando recognised your independence. Selfishly, it was one of the first things he loved about you. Most girls he'd been involved with saw him as a walking bank, but you didn't. You didn't see his status or the money in his bank. You saw him.
It terrified him for a while, but he couldn't escape you. The love he felt for you. But he also couldn't escape his lifestyle.
Tonight was no different. You hadn't spoken for about a week after pictures of his last rendevous leaked. You did this every time pictures of that nature were released. You knew your radio silence wouldn't last long but you liked to protect your peace for a little before running back to the man you can't have.
"Maybe tonight i'll call ya, after my blood turns into alcohol"
Lando stumbled out of the club, alone for once. Every time he got papped in these situations he promised himself he'd behave to prove to you that he was worth holding on to. Like clockwork, as soon as the taxi dropped him at his Monaco home he was on the phone.
"Lando."
"Y/n. I've missed your voice."He slurred over the phone, you knew the routine, you knew he was drunk, his speech only confirming what you knew.
"Any pictures i need to be warned to look out for tomorrow morning?" Only half joking, he knew it hurt you, but being together would be worse he thought.
"Not tonight. Just needed to hear your voice. Needed to know you're still mine."
You sighed, this is teetering on too much.
"I've been yours for two years Lando. Not much has changed. I wait for you, you sleep around, i get hurt. Then you ring me drunk apologising and repeat."
"I'm yours as much as your mine, y/n. You know that. You know why I can't give my all to you, I can't be the one to be the reason you're hurting." His eyebrows furrowed, this isn't how this normally goes. You're rarely angry at him, you're forgiving and caring. But tonight he feels the conversation shifts to passive aggressive, even he can tell despite his drunken state.
"This is hurting Lando. You can't be that foolish to think i can do this forever. We're playing hide and seek to try and turn this round. I want you but not like this. I was going to say this next time i saw you. You're hurting me and i need time now."
"No." He panicked, he wasn't sure what to say. A refusal probably wasn't the smartest but he couldn't find the words to beg you not to do this, to give him another chance. But those words have been uttered a few too many times recently.
You wanted more than a no, but even if he fought, you'd been pushed too far this time. "You'll be fine Lan, another girl is around the corner you know that, but hold her tighter this time. Don't fall into this routine with the next one."
Tears spilled from your eyes, you knew he didn't mean to hurt you, hes not a bad person. He's in fact the best person in your life, but nothing changes no matter what you say and you're all out of fight.
"No, i just want to hold you", his voice cracks. He can't have lost you.
"I love you Lando, i do but i spend more time missing you and worrying about the next time my hearts going to shatter than i do loving you."
"I'm sorry y/n i can change ill be better, ill move back to the UK, we can fix this." Hes begging praying to all the Gods or anyone out there to hear his plea.
"It's gone too far this time. Be safe and be happy, my love. You''ll forever be in my heart but you'll never be mine."
----- ----- -----
"And it been a while but i still feel the same."
He hated to admit it, but he's been anything but himself in the last 4 months. After he subsequently ripped his own heart out, you went no contact. In the first week he thought this was one of your phases and you'd come back like he'd gotten so used to you doing. But one week became two and then so on.
He checked your socials everyday, begging for glimpses into your life. It hurt to be an observer to your life but it was the only way he felt close to you now. He'd flown to the UK after Singapore, he had a few week before his next race and McLaren were begging him to return and work on the simulator.
It was no doubt his performance had declined since you left. His closer friends at McLaren, the few he actually trusted aware of your 'relationship' recognised the correlation. He refused to be in the UK between races, not trusting himself to avoid you if he was back. But they needed him to be better and the HQ was the best place for that.
And now that he was back he was indeed struggling to avoid turning up at the cafe. He never did, but he would often drive past on the way to work, hoping for a glimpse of you.
Like clockwork, after his morning run he was straight onto instagram, searching your profile.
yourusername: "café des amoureux open for business!! *address* !!!
His legs were already running to his car, his fingers copying the address into maps. His mind disregarding your plea of no contact, this was your dream. You were still his favourite person, before it got too much he was your biggest supporter of your dreams. He wanted to tell you how proud he was.
It was 8am and you'd only just opened, expecting a slow day as it was the opening day. The bell rang signifying someones entrance, you hurried out the kitchen a grin on your face as you approached the counter. A familiar face standing before you a sheepish grin adorning his face.
He couldn't read your reception to his presence. "Y/n." He breathed out. "You did it! You fucking did it!! He cheered, joy and pride laced in his tone.
You ran around to him, almost knocking him over, burying your face into shoulder, his familiar scent surrounding you. "We did it, Lan."
We. Without his encouragement, your confidence wouldn't be high enough to have followed the dream. Even in his absence, you remember every pep talk he gave you. Every time he wiped your tears after your 50 hour weeks and when your bills were getting too much. Every phone call at any hour whatever the country. He will always be your best friend, he just couldn't be the one to love you loyally.
"Y/n can i just say-"
"Gorgeous it looks wonderful!" A voice interrupted him. He didn't even hear the bell go, too entranced by your beautiful appearance
He turned to see a man in a suit standing in the doorway, his hair curly like Lando's. There were certainly some similarities, please say this is the landlord.
"Lan this is my f-" "-boyfriend" he finished for her, Lando didn't like that. Firstly he convinced himself she was going to say friend, secondly she has a voice of her own, she doesn't need to be spoken for.
"Hi mate" the stranger smiled, Lando convinced it was a smirk. He was cocky, Lando didn't like him. The boyfriend extended a hand to Lando, to which he simply gave an upturned nod. He didn't feel the need to exchange manors with him.
"How long have you been together?" You could tell he was hurt just looking at him, his voice confident but his eyes with a fragile glint in them.
"Only a month, we've actually not discussed labels yet!" You defended, not too sure why. Dan was lovely and even lived in the same country!
"No time like the present! This should be a day to remember, not just for the cafe!" Dan grinned.
Lando didn't like that either. Today should be about the cafe. Nothing else. He decided not to comment, the air already felt tense to him. He felt a tight feeling in his chest.
This must've been how you felt over the 24 months when you saw him with random girls. You endured it and waited for 2 years for him yet Lando feels like he can't stand this feeling for 2 more minutes.
"I need to go, Zak will start to think I've been kidnapped."
You felt hurt he wouldn't stay longer, you wished Dan hadn't turned up. You had so much to say. "Oh Lan please stay for a bit."
"You don't need me. To stay i mean. You'll be busy, I'll leave you to it. I'm so proud of you y/n/n. Always."
You pulled him in for a hug, "please stay." you whispered in his ear.
"Goodbye y/n/n." He gently smiled at you as he pulled away, quickly exciting hearing Dan say how nice it was to meet him. Leaving you stood, abandoned once more as Dan gave you a hug as you stood frozen. Leaving him over the phone was so much easier than watching him leave in person, he left you with the sense it'd be longer than four months before your paths crossed again
Fuck, fuck, fuck. You're gone, finally moved on, he thought...
"Maybe i should let you go."
----
Part 2
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ririblogsss · 23 days
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Ok so I've read that OCD, can be a by product of trauma.
So what if Danny doesn't relize he is deeply traumatized by the events that happened in his early childhood. By that I mean with all the weapons and chemicals spills around his house and of course his untimely death.
He noticed that his home has no order whatsoever and that's what made it dangerous to live in. He only found comfort in his own room because it was the only space the could truly control, and make sure it was safe.
He started associating organization and cleanliness with safety and security. He has underling fear of coming into contact with contaminants, and that it will bring his whole world to collapse if he does indeed come into contact with one.
So lets say that a revel gone wrong, and Dannys put into foster care and then handed into the Wayne family.
At this point the Bats know that Danny used to be phantom, because lets be real they would immediately figure it out. Yet Danny has no clue they are the bats. He just believes they are a really big family with too much money to know what to do with it.
So Danny someone who has no clue he has OCD but presents most if not all the characteristics.
For instance:
Danny subbing the same spot on the rug for hours trying to get rid of it. Because in his mind if that spot stays bad things will happen.
On another instance he is seen organizing and reorganizing his shelf on a very specified order and continuously going back until he is satisfied.
When he goes to eat he always asks if the food was washed and cleaned properly multiple times.
He always counts if all his cleaning supplies he keeps are there in the morning.
He has a very strict schedule in which he doesn't break and refuses to break, especially his cleaning schedule.
Now the Bats are completely aware of this, and instead of making feel bad about it they help him and reassure him every time.
Examples:
Danny found that in the living room the rug was too dirty, because of the constant influx of people bringing in dirt with them. Of course Alfred always cleans it, but Danny needs to make sure himself. So one of the siblings would help him clean the rug his way, as Danny does it in a very specific way.
Another example is when Danny started cleaning during a movie night because of all the popcorn that was dropped on the floor. The rest just stopped the movie and helped him clean the area, and then resumed the movie careful not to spill more popcorn.
At one point the family was concerned because Danny was moving into a more dangerous zone of the compulsions, such as scrubbing his hands raw because he accidentally touch something 'dirty' without his special gloves.
So they made Bruce ask him if he wanted to go to a therapist and possibly a psychiatrist for his OCD. And Danny just said he didn't have OCD he just wanted things to be clean and organized like everyone else.
in the end he was convinced to go to a therapist so he could learn to manage living with OCD, but he was endlessly happy that he had people to fall back to that didn't judge him, and instead helped him out.
note:
(I just want to say that I don't have OCD myself but a lot of my family members do have it, and ive seen how it affects their daily lives. And I wanted to bring to light that people can't control their obsessions/compulsions but they can learn to manage it so they can live calmer with less anxiety. So I hope I made it as realistic as possible and didn't sound stereotypical or offensive)
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slitherpunk · 1 month
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games i liked in 2023 (And Other)
I like games ! You know that ?! and I played a lot 2023! and I liked a lot :). They aren't in any specific order, it's just a little highlight of games that stood out to me this year. I've attempted to write a few thoughts on each so I hope take a look. I wrote playtimes for some also but that is very subjective.
-Ones that actually came out 2023-
Lunacid https://store.steampowered.com/app/1745510/Lunacid/ I think I mentioned enjoying this in 2022 but it officially released so I can say it was one of my favorite games in 2023 :3! I like to feel around this game's walls for secrets. I like the npcs that are full of hope and whimsy despite the bleakness of its world. Chill and occasionally spooky first person dungeon crawling around moody caverns and ruins varying from underground forests to vampire castles and blood lake. (Blood lake!!!! Lake of blood!!! Big creature there.) Lots of fun weapons and spells to find, I like the one that lets you turn blood into coffins.
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~20 hours
Orbo's Odyssey https://feverdreamjohnny.itch.io/orbos-odyssey If you played the massively popular demo for "Peeb Adventures" by feverdreamjohnny then you know that Johnny makes some fun and funny games and this is certainly one of them. speedy and satisfying platforming! funny dracula moments! short and sweet.
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~2 hours
A Walk in the Woods https://mooncaller.itch.io/a-walk-in-the-woods Quaint little GBStudio game :) Made by some friends of mine for a jam :) It's cute I like it. There's minigames where you catch bugs and birdwatch.
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~30 minutes long
Undertale Yellow https://gamejolt.com/games/UndertaleYellow/136925 I've only completed the pacifist run and checked out a neutral run so far. as the title somewhat implies, this is a prequel to Undertale where you play as the fallen human who had the yellow colored soul. This Undertale fangame has a lot of charm!!! A lot of battles really feel like they could have been in the original, with quite a bit of extra flair in some circumstances.
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~10 hours
vs really cool bird https://bobacupcake.itch.io/vs-really-cool-bird you know that really cool bird that rob bobacupcake made well you can fight it in undertale and it's really fun. yeah two undertale fangames. . . wat of it …
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~30 minutes
Misericorde: Volume One https://xeecee.itch.io/misericorde I wont lie the main draw for me into this was cute anime nuns I sure didn't know a whole lot else about it when I dug into it. But it's (the first part of) a VN murder mystery! And I enjoyed it a whole lot. All the characters are memorable and I really enjoy how all of them have differentiating designs. The protagonist is so failgirl. She sucks so much and I love her. I'm very intrigued by the mechanics of the game's world, it clues you in near the beginning to expect something a bit supernatural/fantastical, which gives you (and later the protagonist) a curiosity about what's real and what isn't. The music is all very impressive too, with the ost reaching past 100 tracks varying through post-rock, folk, drum & bass, and others. (Remembering when the track "Scandal" played and my friends and I took a moment to be like- okay hang on this track pwns.) Big fan of its haunting locals and how the aesthetic of the game fits them well. Also the humor is a lot of fun, and I love all the moments getting to know the different characters. Very excited to see the eventual continuation of this.
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~12 hours
Absolutely Perfect Specimen https://chambersoft.itch.io/absolutely-perfect-specimen It seems like a lot of people are craving toxic horror yuri lately. Here's a recommendation. It's a VN about the android maid "Pan" and the mad scientist girl who created her. Horrifying & gut wrenching & largely about having other people define you. The art and music is haunting & poignant and matches the ever increasing feeling of dread throughout. It's yuri with the chunks. Peak robotgirl horror for those who can stomach it.
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~90 minutes
Wordhopper https://kokoscript.itch.io/wordhopper Very quaint word search type puzzle game for ms dos! I think its style is very slick and that's pretty impressive to see. Chill game with nice vibes and eyecandy visuals. also it was so cool to have played this and then ended up seeing the dev's booth at Vintage Computer Festival Midwest. I was like omg woah I just played this.
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~bunny
Bossgame https://lilyv.itch.io/bossgame This game is yuriful as f*ck. Delightful humor and fun character dynamics! A simple-to-understand-difficult-to-master boss rush battle system that makes you satisfied to get it right, and enticing to get just a little farther if you get it wrong. There's a lot of detail and charm to this game's menus and dialogues and win screens, I remember noticing that once you beat a boss there would be some marquee text that would pass by with some prose on it. I love how it balances its silly moments with its heartfelt moments and its high octane moments. I like the character development and revelations had throughout the plot. & I like how good the protagonists are for each other :) It's very sweet. It's hype as hell. if you want some boss rush action paired well with that sweet sweet girl's love, you *will* play this game.
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~5 hours
Elly's Adventure https://bikwins.itch.io/ellys-adventure Very cute and witchy!! You are the little witch girl "Elly" on an adventure to get your toys back!! Feels like a pretty authentic gameboy type experience, it takes a lot of design cues from Kirby's adventure and the like. I am a big fan of how playful it feels.
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~1 hour
Nour https://store.steampowered.com/app/1141050/Nour_Play_with_Your_Food/ This was a treat for me, but I understand that not everybody is going to get it. It's a game where you play with food(and food accessories). And that's it. It knows what it was going for. I think a lot of people were expecting something else for some reason. It's a cute little toy game and I felt satisfied with my time with it.
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~food
Hi-Fi Rush https://store.steampowered.com/app/1817230/HiFi_RUSH/ Do I have to say this game is super fun? It's a big one everybody probably already knows it. This game's dopey humor made me laugh a lot and I'm not afraid to admit it.
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~12 hours
WHISKEY.ST2007S https://bonicle.itch.io/whiskey-st2007nes One of the last games I played in the year because it released super last minute. Does anybody else get a rush when running a shopping cart down the parking lot? This emulates that feeling. Short game where you collect whisky stones in the whisky stone dimension because you forgot to go christmas shopping until the very last minute. it rules. It's very short you can go play it right now & get a highscore.
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~5 minutes
re:curse https://devpalmer.itch.io/re-curse Discovered this one near the very end of the year also. Fun little rpg maker horror/humor game about a weird scientist lady, her butch, and an evil clown computer virus that figured out how to warp reality. I got a kick out of it. and also enjoyed digging through the game's files, which was actively encouraged by the dev, which I thought was very fun.
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~90 minutes
-Didn't technically get to until 2024 but released last year-
SWOLLEN TO BURSTING UNTIL I AM DISAPPEARING ON PURPOSE https://1207.itch.io/swollen-to-bursting-until-i-am-disappearing-on-purpose People love to dunk on a lot of indie rpgs for being "quirky Earthbound inspired and about depression" or whatever. Earthbound's great. If people can nail the kind of humor and absurdity it likes to pull off while also balancing difficult topics I think that deserves a high mark. SWOLLEN TO BURSTING was fun. Bizarre and charming places to explore & distressing secrets to find. I like how it blends meander-around-the-town gameplay with Yume Nikki sort of exploration and effects. Also I'm a big fan of the music. I like how it has the lofi sound which matches the early 3d look of the game.
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~6 hours
HalOPE https://starbage.itch.io/halope Another for the fans of sweet little rpg maker games that have a lot of heart. HalOPE is about an incomplete little angel wondering through worlds. Each has a theme, usually to do with an emotion or feeling, and they do well at evoking that feeling as well as its antithesis. a lot of the music is very homey and charming at moments and unnerving at others, sometimes lonely, all doing well in their corresponding chapters to further the feeling of its specified theme. There are so many delightful characters and designs in this & I found myself feeling really attached to their tiny little stories. The narrative at the core of it all hit me. If I may be vulnerable, I cried a whole lot at various moments in this game. It was really cathartic. I feel very excited for people to experience this game.
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~5 hours
-Favs I finally got around to that didn't come out 2023-
An Outcry https://quinnk.itch.io/an-outcry Kind of sad it took me so long to get to this one, but glad it meant I got to play the "definitive" updated version of it. Apartment wandering RPG maker horror. Bum smokes from your neighbors and use them to save the game. I wish I could unwrap a lot more of what I like about this game than I can without spoiling too much. But if I could, I'd probably go on for too long. Let me attempt to be succinct & not giving too much away. You can tell pretty early on that An Outcry is about taking action when necessary & not turning a blind eye. What it explores about player vs protagonist agency is very fascinating to me as well, and I enjoyed learning about the inspirations for why the game's narrative works the way it does. The character Anne is such a sweetie and I love her a whole lot. This game has a very tangible feeling, this apartment complex is dirty and crumby, it smells of smoke, and there's a surrounding desperation you can feel.
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~5 hours
Pigments https://punkcake.itch.io/pigments Honestly I had gotten this game in a bundle and while I was playing it I hadn't looked at the name and I just kept calling it FRUIT. On call with my friends I'd be like "hey im gonna play more FRUIT". I straight up didn't read the title screen. But it's called Pigments. You play as a fruit and you try to paint the whole floor and not get sliced by buzzsaws. Fun little arcade type game.
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~fruit
Bridge, October 3rd https://lowpolis.itch.io/bridge-october-3rd Very short vignette. I like it. It's what it says it is. I'm not going to overexplain.
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~like a minute
-Other Games I Want To Mention-
Pseudoregalia https://store.steampowered.com/app/2365810/Pseudoregalia/ I think a lot of people might have already known this one but I felt like it was a pretty fun 3d platformer. There were a few issues I had with it (boss fight at the beginning was frustrating, and I got lost a lot [but it looks like there's been a map patch by now, so, perhaps for some that is a fix]). I enjoyed it but sure felt weird that the only accessibility option was to give the protagonist pants. What kind of joke is that?
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~5 hours
Mushroom Musume https://mortallymoonstruckgames.itch.io/mushroom-musume (Disclaimer, this game is still early access, but I saw a lot of people talking about it last year. SO I will mention here?) Haven't played much of this yet, but I have enjoyed what I played so far!! As of writing I've gone through 6 playthroughs, I feel like I've hardly scratched the surface and I've been so impressed by its depth. It's very charming, you never know what sorts of fairytale shenanigans are going to happen, and it's very cool to see how your different stats will affect things. It very much plays out like a roguelike vn. Which is not the sort of thing you may expect to make much sense but it pulls this off well. Also all the mushroom girls are very cute and I love them very much. I hope the sad goopy one who had bugs in her skin rests in peace.
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~mushroom
Knuckle Sandwich https://andybrophy.itch.io/knuckle-sandwich -_- Hm. Where do I start with this one. I was pretty excited for this one since the demo and kickstarter in 2018. I felt like the demo was a hell of a hook that got me curious & horrified. As time went on, it seemed to be shaping up into something really cool. turn based combat with action commands and wario-ware-type microgames?? with a banging soundtrack?? like, count me in!! Then it released and well, the gameplay, art, music all delivered. It was very fun and engaging in those aspects. But the story… oh it just devolves into disappointing nonsensical randomness. The whole hook at the beginning seemed to be completely thrown away for the wild goose chase plot that ensues, leaving you to wonder if it was ever going to be relevant again. It felt like it had no idea what it was trying to say or do. It disappointed me that a game that has so much good in so much else about it gets brought down so much for me by this plot.
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~12 hours
Rhythm Doctor https://store.steampowered.com/app/774181/Rhythm_Doctor/ (Putting this one in mentions because it is early access.) I really enjoyed the act 5 release. When I first saw this game, I kind of shrugged it off, thinking "that base mechanic doesn't seem like it will last". I thought it was basically just that one ghost shooting game from Rhythm Heaven which I Hate. Well let's just say I am now seeking penitence for my previous transgressions. It's really fun. There's a lot more to it that I didn't know when I first took a look. Also, consistently amazed by people's custom levels, I had no idea that its level editor allows people to do so much in it, I look at some levels and think "This editor seems as complex as an industry standard video editor". I'm looking forward to what they're planning next, very curious how they could possibly one-up the last update.
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~rhythm
El Paso Elsewhere https://strangescaffold.itch.io/el-paso-elsewhere This was really fun & funny so far but unfortunately I had been encountering an issue with a certain level where the game would crash. I reported the issue, got a response, and there has been an update since then so I think there's a possibility that it got fixed but I have not tried yet. I would like to return to this sometime but having to relearn controls midway through is always daunting to me.
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~?
-Things that looked good but didn't get around to-
Cosmic Wheel Sisterhood https://store.steampowered.com/app/1340480/The_Cosmic_Wheel_Sisterhood/ Still don't know a whole lot about this. But there are witches, and I like witches.
Casette Beasts https://store.steampowered.com/app/1321440/Cassette_Beasts/ I haven't felt thrilled about Pokémon lately. I know a lot of people seemed to really enjoy this little monster-collecting-rpg. The style is appealing to me as a die-hard gen 5 fan. I started playing it but haven't set aside the dedicated time for it yet, but I'm excited to dig in more when I do.
Little Goody Two Shoes https://store.steampowered.com/app/1812370/Little_Goody_Two_Shoes/ Started watching a friend play this, and I'm certainly curious.. Some sort of horror fairytale but also there's yuri? Yum. Enjoyed the style and animation in the nightmare segments that I saw.
Venba https://store.steampowered.com/app/1491670/Venba/ I've picked this up a while ago but still haven't gotten around to it, but I'm eager to, I've heard nothing but good things.
Goodbye Volcano High https://store.steampowered.com/app/1310330/Goodbye_Volcano_High/ I think there are gay dinosaurs in a band and it's going to be the apocalypse? I have also heard nothing but good things about this.
-Things I watched friends play-
Signalis https://store.steampowered.com/app/1262350/SIGNALIS/ This was a pretty big one. You probably already know it, right? Watched a friend play this and I missed various parts but I understood a solid bit of it. hey. robotgirls are always getting put in these fucked up situations. have you noticed this? one time i got really high and cried about it. it isn't fair
Bomb Rush Cyberfunk https://store.steampowered.com/app/1353230/Bomb_Rush_Cyberfunk/ This one was also probably big enough you don't need me to sing its praises. but it looked really neat. swag.
-Various Thoughts-
Lately I've been thinking more about design and narrative. I feel like I haven't been doing as much analysis as I should be when it comes to games. I want to dissect more what games are saying and figure out meaning. Also attempt to see how the mechanics aid in that. I feel like most of my own work is pretty abstract & random. I simply make what I like. While that's fun and all, I still want to improve in a lot of ways, especially in having more of a theme or message. Figuring out how other games accomplish this is obviously a good step toward this.
If you saw games here that interest you I highly urge you to take a look, many are pretty short, and I pretty explicitly wanted to highlight some smaller titles. If you know me you know I like to uplift small games. (Save for the occasional big game, but that's rare these days) I think it's healthy for you to play and support independently developed & published works. I don't want to ramble too much this time about why that's important, but I hope that you might have found something you may enjoy here and if not then I encourage you to find small stuff that you would like. And I would like to encourage everybody to share their findings as well! Little games need our help to be seen and talked about! They don't have the budgets the big ones do for advertising, and advertising on your own is a whole ton of work. If you like something, spread the word! I'm sure the developers would very much appreciate that.
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risestarkiss · 3 months
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Being Purple ○ Part Two
Rise Ramblings #315
Previous | Being Purple ○ Part One This post is a continuation, so I recommend reading Part One before reading this Part Two. ••••
We’ve talked about what Donatello was and his role in the family.
But, we never examined why. Why is Donnie so gung ho on physically providing for his family?
Well, to understand why he feels that way, we need to go back to the beginning. After Splinter and the turtles were mutated, Yoshi was obviously unable to access any of the funds or resources he held as Lou Jitsu due to, you know, him now being a giant rat. He had to start life a new from the bottom of society.
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We don’t know what happened during their time on the streets, but we can make some inferences as to what happened next. Splinter eventually moved the boys down into the sewers and was able find a comfortable space for himself and his little family.
Here is where I’m going to try my best to piece together the order of events regarding Donatello’s earliest contributions. I’ll be using two episodes: the season one finale, “End Game,” and the Nick web exclusive mini-episode, “Turtle Tots.”
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In Turtle Tots, the family has gathered in Splinter’s room. We can also see the den through Splinter’s doorway. This home is, indeed, the home that we are familiar with in the show. Thus, we now know that at this age the boys were already living in the sewers. We also know that the den has already been outfitted with a tv, electricity, and probably some kind of cable hookup.
Is it possible that Splints did this electrical work all on his own? “End Game” gives us a clue that can lead us to an answer.
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Here he is, the boy of the hour. In this picture, given the perspective, young Donnie is much shorter than Splinter. Their heights here are actually comparable to their height difference in the “Turtle Tots” clip. Therefore, I believe it’s fair to conclude that Donatello is about the same height in both instances, and likewise, relatively the same age.  
Given that new piece of information, now we can speculate further.
When you look at the room that crying Dondon is in, he’s surrounded by wires, batteries, boxes, and what appears to be little bits of tech that he was working on, hence the booboo. There’s a small rotary plane of some sort, a tiny workbench, and other bits and pieces. So, we can deduce that Donnie is familiar with electrical work and is building things for himself, even at this young age.
Donatello is already cooking.
With that evidence, I believe it’s reasonable to surmise that Donatello had a hand in hooking the den up with a refurbished TV and in wiring the house with electricity, which is such a big job for such a little guy.  
If it had stopped there, I wouldn’t bring it up, but as we can plainly see…
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It never stopped. His labors are endless. Everything from the turtles’ transportation, their living space, and their comforts at home was created, built, enhanced, and refurbished by Donatello. Consequently, he internalized the idea that his usefulness equated to the safety and security of his family. And that’s just how he lived his life.
He doesn’t know any different, and I’m sure at this point he wouldn’t want any different. This is his role. This is his place. Besides, his beneficence makes his brothers happy, and his father happy, and by extension it makes him happy.
Hence, his “gift giving” love language.
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If Donnie is happy, then where’s the problem?
I’m sorry, but external validation as a primary source of happiness, or even worse, as a source of self-esteem, is dangerous…
But I digress…
From the outside looking in, it’s easy to assume that his genius is best utilized as a tool for the team’s benefit. But as a child, the weight of ensuring their entire family’s physical infrastructure is a large burden to bear…and it is almost the exact definition of Instrumental Parentification.
Parentification is a process in which a role reversal occurs where the child or adolescent is obligated to act as a parent would to their siblings or to their actual parent. Instrumental Parentification involves a child assuming the responsibilities of maintaining a household through physical means. In this case, Donatello literally maintains the household.
I’ve said all of that to say this.
Donatello has been subjected to Instrumental Parentification for almost his entire life. He doesn’t know life without providing for his family, but he’s happiest when his family is comfortable and safe.
So when we ask, why does Donatello make these sacrifices for his family, the answer is obvious. Love. And that answer reigns true in the past, present, and future…
Anyways, Donatello is such a complex and intriguing character, I could go on about him forever. But I think this as good a place as any to put a pin in my deep dive on this fiery little grape, because our next dive’s focus is on the true pinnacle of the Hamato clan…
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○○○○
Previous | Being Big Red • Being Baby Blue • Being Purple ○ Part One
Next | Orange, Baby!
Finale | Being Hamato Yoshi
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rip-quizilla · 10 months
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Eat Me
Pairing: Older!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Popstar!Reader
Summary: (TLDR: you perform with Corroded Coffin, act like a brat the whole time, and Eddie makes you pay for it.) Two years after your hiatus from the music industry, you're back and all grown up now. After collaborating with early 2000's metal sensation Corroded Coffin for several songs off your new album, you debut the new tracks live in a surprise performance with the band during their tour- and the tension between you and frontman Eddie Munson is so thick, you're barely able to keep your pants on throughout the set. (Songs referenced are by Demi Lovato from her album HOLY FVCK, which inspired this fic. I highly suggest listening to the songs "Eat Me" and "Freak" while they're performed in the story for the complete experience!)
Word Count: 14K
Tags: 🔥SMUT, age gap (reader is 27, Eddie is 47), Reader is a brat (Eddie can handle it), fingering, squirting, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap up!!), light degradation, reader has blue hair, reader is a grown-up child star, for the purposes of this fic Corroded Coffin started in the 90s instead of 80s for timeline reasons
🖤🖤🖤
You had no fucking clue what you were doing. 
It had been two years since you’d put out music. Two. Years. That’s enough time for a person’s relevance to crawl into a hole and die, which is something you had been strongly considering doing for the duration of those two years. 
It was a tale as old as time- child star grows up. Child star is not a child anymore, but the world only wants the star to be a child, so if the star wants to keep being a star, they do not. grow. up. 
But you grew up, and guess what happened? 
The world hated you for it. 
So you stopped trying to be a star. You’d dropped off the face of the earth and deleted every social media app from your phone. You’d bought a house in the mountains, and thanks to modern technologies like Amazon and DoorDash, you basically never had to leave. It was a little scary how easily you had become a hermit living in a cabin in the woods. Your life quickly became a never ending cycle of reading, binge-watching tv, and dying/cutting your hair whenever the mood struck (The latest spontaneous color change had left you with a surprisingly pretty shade of faded blue).
It was easy, running away… until it caught up with you.
After all, at your core you had always been a performer. From your first audition at five years old to your big break at twelve, to the first album you’d put out on your television network’s record label- you had always been a person who had something to say and craved an audience to hear it. When your audience had turned on you, it had jolted your rhythm enough that you forgot the words to a song you’d been singing as long as you could remember. 
It had taken you a couple years, but eventually you figured out that when you play the same song on repeat for long enough, it gets old. 
So you wrote a new song. 
To be more precise, you wrote a whole album. Literally. 
Some of the songs were composed, some still needed a tune, but the message of the album was clear: I’m not that little girl on your TV screen anymore. You don’t have to like it, but you sure as hell can’t change it. 
The minute you’d figured that out, you’d called your team. Once they understood the direction your career was headed, they helped get everything in order for your re-entry into the fray that had driven you out in the first place. 
There was only one part of the album that made you nervous. 
I know two years doesn’t seem like that long, your agent had said, but the public eye doesn’t have a very impressive attention span. You only have half of the album composed, right? This is the perfect opportunity to make the other half of the songs collaborations with artists that are in the public eye! 
The idea made sense. Their popularity helps you, and if the songs go over well, then it helps the other artists too. The only issue was that these songs were way more vulnerable than what you used to write… hell, half the songs you’d recorded before your hiatus were written by whatever run of the mill joe schmo had gotten the kid-friendly execs’ stamp of approval. Even when you’d split from the network after turning twenty-three, you’d kept your songs strictly PG-rated since you knew the majority of your audience were minors. These new songs, though… 
You weren’t an idiot. The themes of these songs were not subtle. Anyone who listened to these new songs was going to see a side of you that wasn’t all that pretty. Were you ready for that? Were you ready to bare that darkness to not only the world, but to other artists who meant to help you make music out of it?
Your anxiety about the album had gotten even worse when your agent had given you the list of potential collaborators.
 One song that you were particularly proud of called “Eat Me” had some very metal undertones to it, so you’d told your agent that you’d like to collaborate with a metal band or artist to compose the music that would match the lyrics. Almost immediately, your agent had suggested a collaboration with Corroded Coffin.
The band had been HUGE when you were a kid, topping charts throughout your childhood and making a name for themselves as one of the most culturally relevant turn-of-the-century metal bands. Even now, they were a household name. Your older brother had been a huge fan, so you’d actually listened to their music quite a lot growing up. They weren’t some random collaboration- if Corroded Coffin read your lyrics (which were basically your soul laid out on display) and thought they were shit? It might just send you spiraling right back to your cabin in the mountains. 
You had been equal parts thrilled and terrified when your agent told you they’d agreed to collaborate on the song.
Currently, you were sitting in your home-away-from-home, a cozy apartment that you rented on a month-to-month basis whenever you needed to be in New York, which just so happened to be where Eddie Munson, lead singer/guitarist of Corroded Coffin had asked to meet with you. It was your album, so you had invited him to come to your place and discuss his ideas for the song. You shifted nervously on your couch and glanced at the time on your phone. He was ten minutes late- that shouldn’t bother you, a lot of musicians had a habit of running late. Just because you didn’t subscribe to that stereotype didn’t mean you had to judge him for doing the opposite. 
When you finally heard the buzz of your doorbell, you practically hopped off the couch. You peeped through the little door viewer to catch a glimpse before you had to look one of your childhood heroes in the eye. You… you hadn’t been adequately prepared to see this. 
Eddie Munson had been attractive in his hay day- you could admit that. You’d seen the pictures of him on their album covers, the press photos, the magazines… he had always been cute in a scruffy sort of way. You hadn’t bothered Googling what he looked like now, which you were currently regretting since you had not been adequately prepared for the father of all DILFs to be standing on your doorstep. 
After doing some quick math, you came to the conclusion that Eddie Munson must be in his mid to late forties at this point. His hair was still long and curly and thick as hell, but you noticed other details that you distinctly remembered were not present on the album covers you remember from your brother’s CD collection- dark, whiskery shadow along his cheeks and jawline. Tattoos creeping up from the collar of the crew neck shirt he wore, as well as every inch of his arms. A nose ring. Smile lines. Soft creases forming between thick brown eyebrows. 
Eyebrows drawing together in confusion because you weren’t opening the door. 
Shit. You inhaled sharply and hastily made to open the door. Breathe, you instructed yourself, taking a moment to blow out a semi-relaxing breath before turning the doorknob and plastering on your best entertainment industry smile.
“Hi!” you said, a little too peppy- you knew you sounded too peppy because the rockstar in front of you actually flinched when your high-pitched sorority girl voice slapped him in the face. “Sorry, I think I’m a little caffeine-riddled, I just finished my third cup of coffee.” You said apologetically, swinging the door open wider for him to step through the threshold into your apartment. 
“Too many frappuccinos there, huh popstar?” His voice… if it hadn’t been so condescending, you might have melted on the spot. Your pride, however, had to argue with your clenching thighs. 
“Uhm, no-” you laughed, keeping your voice airy as you shut the door and leaned back on it to ensure it was closed. “-just cold brew, rockstar.” You couldn’t help but add that quip at the end, seeing how he had just called you popstar like it was the same as calling someone a pussy or a wimp. What was his deal?
He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest, and then turned back as if you hadn’t said anything at all. He simply sauntered through the hallway to your living room, where you had laid all the necessary materials for your composing process across the coffee table- but he wasn’t looking at that. He seemed to be inspecting your walls, the decor, the old pictures that sat in frames on your floating shelves, the records you had displayed above your turntable. His eyes surveyed everything like he was a judge at a fucking science fair, and your heart was starting to race as you started to irrationally wonder if you fell short of his expectations or something.
“Ahem,” you cleared your throat to get his attention. 
He turned to face you, irritation flashing across his expression like a cloud blowing past the sun. You took a breath. Calm down, you chided yourself mentally, he’s probably just a prick, don’t take it personally. Be professional. 
“Can I get you something to drink?” You chirped politely, to which he smirked and shook his head.
“Don’t trouble yourself, sweetheart.” 
You bristled; sweetheart? Who did he think he was, Don Draper? Was this the 1950’s? Were you his fucking secretary? Your blood pressure rose by the second. 
“Hm.” you respond, chewing your lip to keep a snarky response to yourself. “Well, we can go ahead and get started if you want.” You gestured to the pages strewn across the coffee table. Notebook pages with your lyrics written out in black pen, empty pages of sheet music that you planned to fill out with a melody to coincide with your words as the morning went on. Your acoustic guitar sat securely in its stand beside the couch, eagerly awaiting your hands to make the message in your music come alive.
Munson sunk into the cushions of your leather couch, manspreading enough to make you feel like a guest in your own apartment. His forearms rested on the thighs of his ripped charcoal jeans as he surveyed the pages before him. He grabbed the notebook page full of lyrics first, chuckling when he saw the title. 
“Eat Me, huh?” he raised an eyebrow at you, and the way he was holding the page between the two of you left only the top half of his face visible from where you sat. You noted that Eddie Munson had extremely expressive eyes. “That’s a pretty evocative title for such a squeaky-clean ‘lil diva.”
Your brow furrowed. “That’s kind of the point.” Using your pointer finger to pull the page down, the bottom half of the rockstar’s face coming into view and spiking your blood pressure again when you saw that fucking smirk still on his face. 
That’s it. This guy is an ass.
“Maybe my agent didn’t accurately portray my vision for this album,” you said, struggling to grit out the words without coming across angry. “If that’s the case, I’m very sorry we got our wires crossed.” 
Ready to listen, Munson leaned back into your couch and crossed one booted foot over his knee, an arm thrown across the top of your couch cushions. The picture of nonchalance. 
Cocky bastard. 
“I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I haven’t put any music out in over two years.” you began. “This isn��t just a new album for me- it's more like a debut album for the new direction I want to take my career in. Up until now, I’ve been portraying a very different side of myself that…if I’m being honest, it wasn’t really me. It was childish and immature and I…” 
You huffed out a heavy, frustrated sigh. “-I can’t do it anymore, I can’t keep being a kid, I’m twenty-fucking-seven years old, for god’s sake.” the rockstar’s eyebrows jumped up at hearing your expletive, obviously amused.
What the fuck? Here you were, being vulnerable with a complete stranger, and he thought it was amusing? You half expected him to laugh, but you brushed past it and decided to ignore this asshole being even more of an asshole. 
“What I’m trying to say is this is a very personal album for me. It’s very different from what I’ve been putting out, and that is very much the point. Does that make sense?” 
You watched as he slowly nodded his head, mulling over your words. “So…it’s like a coming of age thing?” he ventured, “Like, ‘little girl’s all grown up and sexy now’ all that?” his mouth turned up at one corner. “How very Miley Cyrus of you, sweetheart.”
You scoffed, physically recoiling a bit. “Are you being serious right now?” you balked. 
He shrugged. 
Oh, you fumed, that is it. Fuck this guy.
You stood from the couch, finally snapping after holding yourself back from giving this asshat a piece of your mind. “What is your problem?” Munson’s smirk faded a bit, but his smug air remained intact as he stared up at you. 
“Look sweetheart-”
“No.” you cut him off, stopping him with a hand in the air. “Stop calling me sweetheart like you know me or like that isn’t a condescending fucking way to speak to someone. You have done nothing but talk down to me since you walked through that door, so no, you do not get to talk to me like that, I don’t care how famous you are.”
There wasn’t a trace of a smile on his face now, and you took pride in that. Maybe there was a conscience in there somewhere that was telling him I told you so right now.
You took the page from his hands and held it up for emphasis. “If you had just read my fucking song before making assumptions, then maybe you would have understood that this song is actually a social commentary on people like you who assume the direct trajectory of a child star’s career is to go from cute and childish to sexy ‘girls gone wild’ or whatever the fuck.” you spat, practically shaking the paper in your hand. “I’m allowed to grow into whoever I damn well please, and that’s exactly what this song is about. If I want to write a song about sex- and I’ve written a few, they’re on the fucking album- I’ll write them because that’s what I want to write! I’m not doing it for shock value or because I like attention; hell, I’ve been a literal hermit in the woods for two years, I don’t give a fuck about attention!”
You finally paused to breathe, and you knew your eyes must look absolutely insane because the man before you genuinely looked terrified. 
Steeling yourself, you inhaled and exhaled slowly, attempting to push down some of that hysteria. “Sorry.” you bit, “Didn’t mean to unload all that on you. It’s just… this song is a part of me, and you just belittled it without even reading past the title.” You looked him directly in those big brown eyes and thought- hoped- for a second that you saw understanding in his gaze. “That was shitty. I’m not letting other people make me feel like shit anymore.” 
When you were finished, silence took over. It settled over the room like a reprieve from a short but heavy rainfall before the sun showed itself again. Suddenly, Eddie Munson stood from your couch and marched to your door, letting himself out with a sharp click of your doorknob latching closed. 
Okay. That went well. The lead singer of one of the most famous metal bands just came to your apartment, got yelled at, and ran away. You were just starting to ponder how you would explain this one to your publicist before you heard a knock at your door. Tentatively, you opened it- you didn’t need to look through the peephole to know who it was. 
Eddie Munson stood at your door wearing an expression that you hadn’t seen yet today- he looked open, compassionate, and sorry. One hand in his pocket with the other outstretched, tattoos winding up the expanse of skin, rings glinting light from the sconces on either side of your door. He was offering his hand. 
Smiling slightly, you accepted his gesture. You grasped his ink-scarred hand, feeling the cold metal of his rings press against your skin as you shook it. “It’s lovely to meet you-” he said your name softly, and you realized that when he had entered your apartment earlier, you hadn’t even exchanged pleasantries. Hadn’t introduced yourselves, almost as if fame got rid of the need for normal human introductions. Now, here he was, remedying that.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Munson,” you said, voice less chipper than it had been when the two of you originally stood in these same spots. “I’m a huge fan.” 
He winced at ‘Mr.’, clapping his other hand over yours tightly. “Please, for the love of god, don’t call me Mr. Munson.” his big brown eyes pleaded with you. “Call me Eddie.”
Your smile widened as you nodded. “Eddie.” you repeated. “Is this you telling me we’re starting over?” 
He let go of your hand, and you felt a sudden chill as the warmth of his skin left yours. “If that’s alright with you?” he replied softly, turning up the end of his sentence like a question. 
Instead of saying yes, you simply stepped back to make room for him in your hallway. With a pleasant grin on your lips, you gestured for him to step inside. “Let’s get started, then.”
After sitting down on the couch once more, Eddie took the sheet of notebook paper on which you’d scrawled a part of your soul written in verse and began to read intently. Leaving him to digest the song completely (also because you felt awkward sitting there in silence as he read your work) you left to grab two water bottles from the kitchen. When you returned, he had already grabbed a fresh sheet of notebook paper and begun jotting down notes. 
You placed the bottles on coasters, bracing yourself for the criticism that you knew was coming-
“You were right.”
Huh? 
You craned your neck to see what he had written on the notebook paper. “About what?”
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Eddie yanked the paper out of your line of sight. “About this song, it’s completely different from what I’d assumed you would write. Actually,” he grinned. “-it’s kinda fucking metal.”
You smiled, once again reaching for the page. “Then let me see what you wrote-”
“I’m not finished yet, keep your panties on.”
The two of you worked for hours that afternoon, Eddie suggesting lines and chords as you wrote corresponding notes and chords on your sheet music. It didn’t take long for you to grab the acoustic guitar and begin strumming out portions of the song until it was finished.
Both of you agreed it was something to be proud of.
“Hey, uh,” Eddie stuttered before exiting your apartment that evening, when you were both happy with the work you’d done for the day. “I hope you know how sorry I am for being such an ass when I got here earlier-”
You shrugged, any traces of anger melted away at this point. “Eh.” you smirked. “You made up for it. That song might be my favorite on the album now, honestly, I meant it when I said I was a fan of yours- wouldn’t have trusted it with anyone else.”
He smiled at you warmly. “I’m honored to have such a talented fan.” The door was open, but he wasn’t leaving yet. Instead, Eddie stood with his tattooed arms crossed over his chest leaning his weight to one shoulder against the doorway. “I mean it though, you’re a talented songwriter. If you want to collaborate on any other songs, just say the word and I’m back here.”
You quirked an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”
He nodded, “Dead serious.”
Smiling excitedly, you ran to your notebook, flipping through the pages until you found what you were looking for. You looked up at Eddie, a knowing grin on your lips. “Remember those songs about sex I mentioned?”
***
The original plan for your album had been to collaborate with multiple artists for about fifty percent of your album, while the other fifty percent would only feature you. What ended up happening was slightly different.
The more songs Eddie saw, the more passionate he became about the message you were working to convey through your lyrics. He ended up reworking every single song with you in a completely collaborative process, where he never overstepped, never tried to take over- simply understood what you were trying to say and added the extra ‘oomph’ each song had been needing to truly become what you had envisioned. 
“I feel like I really can’t just call this my album now, Eddie, you’ve contributed way more to this to just be credited as a featured artist-”
You’d first voiced concerns about how to credit Eddie in the album a few days into your songwriting spree. It became an easy routine, Eddie would come over first thing in the morning, and the two of you would sit in your living room working through your songs and ordering takeout until the sun set. 
“Well it’s not a collaboration album with Corroded Coffin,” Eddie had replied, sticking a bite of noodles into his mouth. The two of you had been seated at your kitchen table, white boxes of Chinese food, napkins, and torn chopstick wrappers decorating the space between you. “Those fuckers haven’t even met you, they don’t get credit for anything they ain’t playing on.” 
“But I’m talking about you.” you pushed, “If we keep going the way we’ve been, you’re going to be a vital part of the composition for every track on this album! I’m not going to let you avoid credit for that.” you gazed at him, unable to hide the admiration you’d begun to feel for the artist at your table. “Let me list you as a composer for every track you help me with. We already know you and your band will be featured on Eat Me and Freak, so obviously you’ll be credited for those…” 
As you continued to ramble on about how Eddie would be credited for each and every song lyric he suggested, he got distracted looking at the way your hair glinted slightly different shades of blue in the sunlight that filtered in through your balcony window. His eyes followed the light along your skin, taking in the way it glistened off the dewey shine on your cheekbone, how it shone directly into the corner of your eye so that colors he had never noticed were brought to the surface of your irises…
This wasn’t the first time that Eddie had gotten distracted watching you rant about something you were passionate about. He knew he was supposed to be listening, that it was very important that he knew what your songs were about, that he understood the details of your plans for the album so that you wouldn’t have to repeat yourself later- but dammit, you were just so pretty. Really fucking pretty, it was hard for him not to get distracted. Initially, this whole collaboration had just been something that Eddie’s publicist had suggested for getting the newer generation listening to Corroded Coffin in time for their new album to drop at the end of the summerl, so when Eddie had first waltzed into your apartment he’d been expecting a kid; an innocent, teeny-bopper sort of persona. He hadn’t expected a loud, firecracker of a woman with hair the color of his old denim jacket. 
Eddie wasn’t an idiot. He was well aware that he was old enough to be your father. You were what- twenty-seven? Twenty-eight? Definitely under thirty. And here he was, pushing forty-seven with a salt and pepper shadow on his jawline. The hair on his head hadn’t started graying yet (he dreaded the day that he would have to use *gulp* hair dye) but he knew it was only a matter of time. For him to be ogling you like this? It would probably make you uncomfortable if you knew how often his eyes forgot to look away when you left the room. What was that old saying? Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave-
“Eddie?” 
Shit. He’d missed an entire conversation, hadn’t he?
He gave you his best apologetic smile, which didn’t work at all. You sighed, hanging your head low exasperatedly. “You didn’t hear a word of that did you?”
“Not a word, zoned out.” 
You threw a fortune cookie at him.
***
You and Eddie didn’t see each other for a while after recording the album. Eddie was there with the rest of Corroded Coffin to record the two tracks that they were featured in for the album, but after that plus a few guitar parts Eddie had been kind enough to record for some other songs, the two of you hadn’t had a reason to see each other. 
That was why you were so nervous for tonight. 
After working all summer and the better part of the fall, the album was finally finished. Copies of CDs and special edition vinyl were already being shipped out to music stores across the country and set to hit shelves in a week, so tonight was the kickoff event for your publicity tour: you would be joining Corroded Coffin tonight onstage for a surprise performance of Eat Me and  Freak. Tonight was October 31st, and premiering those songs on Halloween with the metal king that helped you make them the masterpieces they were? This was just one of those moments when the stars aligned poetically.
You looked yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before heading to sound check. It had been a couple of months since you’d seen Eddie, but that wouldn’t matter, right? You’d spent a whole week workshopping incredibly personal- in some cases, intimately personal- songs with the guy, so singing onstage with him shouldn’t be a big deal. You were a professional, so it didn’t matter that you hadn’t performed in over two years, you could do this. Never mind the fact that this was the first performance of the rest of your career; never mind that sometimes the way Eddie looked at you make you feel like your knees were about to buckle; never mind that Eddie Munson, rock god and sex symbol of the metal world, was going to be within touching distance the moment you set foot on that stage…
A knock at the door of your tiny dressing room startled you, along with a voice letting you know that sound check was about to begin. Decisively, you grabbed your water bottle and headed to the stage before you could psych yourself out any more. 
When you got to the stage, Eddie was the first person you laid eyes on. He smiled at you, dark curls flying around his face and forming a sinful-looking halo around his face as he gave you a friendly nod- god, he was gorgeous. Waving back at him, you returned the nod and grinned. You wouldn’t be going on until the end of their set, so you situated yourself on an empty stool backstage with a view of the band. 
Their practice was fascinating to watch, how all four of the band members were so obviously masters of their craft, each ear trained to notice any imperfection in the way their instruments sounded through the stereos. Every once in a while, Eddie would look your way out the corner of his eye, just to check if you were still watching; you always were. Whenever he saw you looking directly at him, never glancing down at your phone or at the other band members (besides the odd look thrown in Gareth Emerson’s direction; the way his curls bounced was honestly hypnotic), he’d hold your eye contact, smirk into the microphone, and continue to belt out the lyrics to his songs with a smidge more cockiness than he had been prior. 
When the time finally came for you to join them, you took a deep breath and strutted to where Eddie stood in the center of the stage. No one had handed you a mic, so you weren’t sure where you were supposed to stand until Eddie moved aside to make room for you at his mic stand. 
You looked questioningly at Eddie. “You don’t need your mic?”
He chuckled, placing a hand on the small of your back as he put his lips to your ear. You figured he was just trying to avoid the mic picking up his voice, but the hand on your back… that was new. Was this a move? Was Eddie Munson making a move? On you?
Oh. 
That’s a fun development. 
“This one’s all you, darlin’.” Eddie said, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I’ll stay out of your way. Also-” He pulled away enough to look you in the eyes, and your lips must have been a little too close to the mic because it picked up your fucking gasp. You jerked your head away from the mic, cursing yourself for being so nervous. 
Eddie definitely noticed, but all he did was chuckle, still staring at you with giant doe eyes framed by smile lines and bushy brown eyebrows. “-it’s good to see you, popstar.” There was no condescension in his tone this time; all you could find in his gaze was kind, genuine joy that you were here, and you couldn’t help but smile back. 
Confidently, you gripped the mic with both hands, smirking at Eddie through your side eye. You didn’t bother leaning away from the mic when you replied, sprinkling sultry into your voice. If Eddie Munson was trying to drop a hint, you wanted him to know you were receiving it.
“It’s good to see you too, rockstar.”
***
Mic check went flawlessly, which meant it was time for you and the band to eat in the green room while fans began lining up outside the venue, waiting for the doors to open. 
You had a couple drinks with the band while biding your time before you had to get dressed for the show. Much to your delight, Eddie never left your side the whole time. You had been close to him in your living room day after day when you’d worked on your songs, but this was different; you kept noticing little glances and touches that spoke louder than words- how his hands lingered longer than expected, never missing a chance to touch your arm or place a hand on your back to guide you as you walked. How his eyes were most focused whenever he was looking at you, and he never seemed to give you passing glances- every look he gave you was intense and purposeful, it made you shiver in a very good way. When he and the band left to get ready for showtime, he took a moment to check on how you were before leaving to go to his dressing room. 
“You nervous?” he asked. There wasn’t any judgment there, just concern for you. 
“Yes,” you admitted, “But I think I’ve got it.”
Eddie smiled widely, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing you tightly. “Oh I know you’ve got it, angel.”
You caught his wrist, holding it to your shoulder before he could retract it. Turning to him, you batted your eyes a bit before raising an eyebrow. “Angel, huh?”
Eddie inclined his head, eyes narrowing flirtatiously. “What, should I switch back to sweetheart?”
You smirked. “Only if you wanna make me mad.”
It took everything in you not to shrink back from him as he leaned forward, practically glowering over you. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but must have decided against it. You saw his tongue poke into the inside of his cheek as he nodded to himself, eyes narrowing further as if he were having a whole conversation within his head that you weren’t privy to. Finally, he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze and you let him go, staring at him with every ounce of confidence you could muster. 
“...I’ll remember that, popstar.” he said, voice low and gravelly and sure to throw you into a coma if he said the right words with that voice at the right time. You didn’t let him see how much he was affecting you, though- save for a little grin that you couldn’t hide as he smirked at you and walked away.
When he exited the green room- and you were sure you were alone- you finally let out a breath that you’d been holding for what seemed like entire minutes. You grabbed your drink, chugging down the rest of your liquid courage in the hopes that it might also cool you down a bit. 
***
The cheers from the crowd were deafening, and the gravity of what was about to happen was starting to get to you. 
Corroded Coffin was about to start the song that would be your cue to join them. You stood in the wings like you had during sound check, this time fussing over your outfit to ensure every piece was in place. The fact that it was Halloween combined with the tone of your new album had influenced your wardrobe choice for the evening- ripped black jeans that were more rip than jean, a strappy black bustier top with a plethora of silver buckles that decorating the surface of your bodice where the sides attached at your sternum, fishnet fingerless gloves, and your favorite part of the outfit: the biggest platform boots you’d ever owned. You remembered seeing them and falling in love immediately with the straps that decorated the entirety of the shoe, as well as the silver buckles on each strap that matched your top like a dream. Paired with your blue hair, you looked strikingly goth and nearly unrecognizable from the girl your fans remembered. 
When Eddie announced you onstage, you had to take a deep breath before joining him out there. Slow inhale, slow exhale… and then you were overtaken with hot stage lights.
Out on the stage, you could really take in the size of this crowd- it was far larger than what you were used to, and when they realized who you were, they went wild. You couldn’t help but be intimidated until you felt Eddie’s hand gently grounding you as it ghosted the skin on your back.
His lips tickled your ear as he leaned in and whispered in your ear out of range from the mic, “Knock ‘em dead, sweetheart.” 
You felt a flare of indignation intertwined with delight, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little evilly into the mic at this little shit of a rockstar.
 He did that on purpose. 
You looked at him with the biggest smirk on your face, and it matched the smug, sultry grin on his. Silently, he nodded at the audience as if to say ‘Well? They’re waiting.’
You looked over your shoulder at Jeff on the bass, nodded, and right on cue as Jeff began the first note of the song, the entire stage was flooded with scarlet light. 
***
Eddie could tell you were nervous. Flirting with you probably wasn’t helping, and for all he knew, he might even be making you uncomfortable. 
However…
Over the years, Eddie’s gotten more perceptive when it came to the subtleties of body language. He didn’t miss the fact that you’d been leaning into every touch he ghosted over your skin, no matter how overt or fleeting those touches might have been. He’d seen the change in your eye contact when it lingered a little longer than necessary- that shift from attentive to intrigued, even a little wanting at times. 
The only question was what you wanted, and Eddie was really hoping it was him.
As he watched you take his place at the mic, standing monochrome in scarlet light, he bit his lip as he tried to hold back the salacious grin that slid across his lips; he was unsuccessful. 
Eddie hit his guitar part easily as you purred the lyrics that the two of you had slaved over into your microphone. 
Be more predictable
Be less political
Not too original
Keep to tradition, but stay individual
Thrusting ever so slightly with his warlock, Eddie channeled the rage and rebellion of your lyrics into every word, smirking with the next few lines- they had been one of the first additions to the song that he’d made, and you more than did them justice. 
Dirty but washable
Winning but stoppable
All that I’m hearing is
You wanna make the impossible possible
Even though you’d been nervous earlier, it looked like you’d been able to shake it all off. Confidence was rolling off you like waves, strength in your comfort onstage practically seeping out of your pores. Eddie felt proud, yes, but mostly? He was turned the fuck on by it. His eyes never left you as you carefully removed the mic from its stand and leisurely strode to the edge of the stage as you sang the next lines, punctuating the last with a little shake of your head and a comically disgusted wrinkle of your nose.
Is this what you’d all prefer?
Would you like me better if I was still her?
Did she make your mouths water?
Ugh.
Just like you’d practiced, flashing white lights littered the stage right on cue when the drums opened up the chorus, and you belted those lyrics with all the anger and exasperation that he knew you’d felt when you’d written them. You were a force to be reckoned with- this was that girl he’d met when he’d walked into your apartment acting like a jackass; this was the firecracker of a woman who wasn’t afraid to tell him exactly what she thought. 
I know the part I’ve played before
I know the shit that I’ve ignored
I know the girl that you adored
She’s dead, it’s time to fucking mourn
I can’t spoon-feed you anymore
I can’t spoon-feed you anymore
Dinner’s served, it’s on the floor
I can’t spoon-feed you anymore
You dropped to a crouch, for the end of the chorus, legs bent but spread slightly, and flashing lights glinted off the metal buckles of your platform boots. Your voice ripped from your chest as you belted into the mic.
You’ll have to eat me as I am
You’ll have to eat me as I am
Eddie was incredibly grateful for the crouch you’d dropped into, because it gave him a view of your ass that was so perfect, he actually groaned. Swooned, practically. Thank god you had his mic and the music was loud enough that no one noticed. He hoped. However, anyone with eyes could probably see that he was basically undressing you with his gaze right now, so he really needed to get it together unless he wanted to be on a front page tomorrow for the wrong reasons. He cringed, imagining the headline Munson Ogles Popstar Half His Age. Mid-Life Crisis? Yeah. His publicist would love that one. 
You stood back up, stalking the edge of the stage as you sang the second verse. When you were about halfway through, you turned to look over your shoulder at Eddie, and it just about knocked the breath from his lungs. Your eyes- lined in black and zeroing in on him like something out of his metalhead fantasies- smoldered like embers on the edge of a cigarette as you sang the second half of the verse to him. 
Longer hair and tighter clothes
Would you like me better if I didn’t oppose?
Silver platters, pretty bows…
You were at his side now, turned sideways from the crowd so you were facing him as he turned to face you in tandem. About a foot away from each other, the only thing between you was his guitar, thankfully big enough to hide the way his hard-on was quickly growing harder with every moment you looked at him with those eyes. 
Your expression shifted, eyes rolling as you threw your head back in mock boredom, amping the lines up to the extreme. As you lifted your head back up, you looked at him with the brattiest fucking face Eddie had ever seen as you delivered the final line of the verse into the mic.
…Fuck. 
And then you smirked, tip of your tongue peeking out of your lips and you winked at him. 
Fucking. Winked. 
Ohhhhhh, you were doing this on purpose. You had to be. 
And Eddie couldn’t do shit about it, because you were in the middle of a performance, on stage, jumping around in platform boots and screaming the chorus into your mic like fucking banshee. So he channeled every ounce of sexual frustration into shredding the fuck out of his guitar and staring you down, salivating at the way you blazed on that stage like a witch at the stake. Then, about halfway through that chorus, at the edge of the stage and working the crowd for all they could give you, Eddie just about had a heart attack.
Because you dropped to your fucking knees.
You let the music take control of you, screaming ‘I can’t spoon-feed you anymore’ into the mic, you dropped down to one knee followed by the other as you delivered the final lines before Eddie’s solo.
You’ll have to eat me as I am
You’ll have to eat me as I am
You held your last note long and loud, widening your knees and leaning into a backbend that didn’t stop until your upper back touched the stage behind you. Eddie was amazed that he was even able to remember his part when you were in front of him doing that. Jesus Christ.
Eddie continued to play, and he saw you crane your neck just in time to make eye contact with him as you delivered the next line of the song. You brought the mic to your lips, your knees still spread open and your spine deliciously arched.
Choke on it!
God…you were gonna kill him. 
You pushed yourself back into a kneeling position, facing the audience. As Eddie’s guitar solo became more complex, and his playing more impressive, your jaw dropped as you looked to the audience and fanned yourself, as if you were all sharing a joint reaction of ‘wow, are you guys hearing this too?!’. Eyes crinkling from your smile, you brought the mic to your mouth again. 
Choke on it!
Once you were back on your feet, you stood at ease in the center of the stage as you waited out Eddie’s solo. When he finished, you stared down the crowd as you delivered the last chorus. At this point, Eddie could see some of the spectators mouthing the words along with you, and his chest swelled with pride at your ability to win over a crowd that hadn’t even been expecting you on stage. Hell, knowing his fans, most of them were probably older than you by several years, and yet here they were singing your song. 
When you drew your first breath after the final note, the crowd went wild. He expected you to be staring at them, soaking up the energy of a satisfied throng of fans, but no- immediately, your eyes were on him, an ear-to-ear smile stretching across your face. You had just absolutely killed your first song performed in two years, and you wanted to share your joy with him before you shared it with anyone else. 
Eddie couldn’t help but mirror your smile- it was the least he could do, after the way you just made his heart swell to triple its usual size. He took a few steps over to where Jeff stood with his bass, nodding to the mic in a silent question, to which Jeff gladly stepped aside. 
“If this is what happens when you take a two-year hiatus,” Eddie said slyly into the mic, “then maybe you should do it more often, rockstar.”
The crowd cheered again, and you looked caught off guard by his calling you rockstar instead of popstar. To Eddie, it made perfect sense- tonight, there was nothing pop about you. You were rock & roll incarnate, his equal in every single way. You took a few steps back until you and he were the same distance from the edge of the stage, and as long as he was speaking, your eyes never left him.
“So I’ve been working with this absolute badass on an album- well no, I’m giving myself way too much credit, she wrote an album, I plucked a few guitar strings, yada yada yada-” You giggled as Eddie reminded the crowd of your name, loud and clear, so they knew who to look up on Spotify later. “-anyway, her album drops in a week, that last song you heard was called…”
Eddie looked at you with expectant eyes and a devilish smile. He wanted to hear you say it. Just for fun. He enjoyed being a little shit. 
You smirked into your mic. “Eat Me.” 
The crowd cheered again, all it took was hearing you say two little words. Eddie knew the feeling.  
“We’ve got one more before our lovely guest has to leave the stage, and this one is my personal favorite off the album.” Eddie started warming up with a couple chords from the song before adding, “This is Freak.”
You had replaced the mic into its stand at center stage, which was where Eddie headed to meet you. During sound check, you had asked him if he would need his own mic for this one, but Eddie- selfishly- had said it was no problem, and he didn’t mind sharing. That was a drastic understatement though, since he would happily leap at any excuse to have his lips close to yours in any capacity at all. 
You smiled at him, and you were doing that thing again- that thing where you looked at him like you were giving him a dare. That thing where you touched the tip of your tongue to your upper lip. 
Eddie wanted to bite that lip.
Instead, he smoldered down at you as he began the opening chords to Freak. 
***
You may not have been sure about Eddie’s feelings before tonight, but you were now. 
He wanted you. Bad. So bad, you felt high off the lust that was rolling off the man beside you. 
You could tell by the way he was looking at you that he wanted to do so many things to you here and now, but due to the giant crowd before you that wasn’t an option. The power trip of knowing that every move you made was driving him crazy and he couldn’t do shit about it made you feel bratty as fuck, and you channeled every ounce of that into each word of your next song. 
Pinch me, singe me, inch me to the edge
Your eyes fluttered shut as you let the sultry lyrics take over, arms bending as you brought them up to dance above your head as you stretched your neck back. Your pose mimicked the way you might have stretched across a bed, arching your back slightly in a way that you knew would make Eddie’s mind wander to all the right places. 
Prod me, laud me, ungodly but heaven-sent
As the tempo picked up for the bridge, your lips brushed the mic and you bounced slightly to the beat. Looking up at Eddie, you felt your chest tighten when you saw how blown his pupils were as they zeroed in on you. There was nothing silly or flirty in his gaze now- this was lust, want, need… it was predatory in a way that made you shiver.
Get your tickets to the freak show, baby
Step right up to watch the freak go crazy.
Eddie’s guitar launched into the chorus with you, both of your mouths breaking your little standoff by smiling because you couldn’t help yourselves- performing together, this close, singing lyrics that the two of you connected with- you were having so much fun. 
Am what I am and what I am is a piece of meat
Take a bite just to watch me bleed
Freak
Say what you want and what you want is behind your teeth
Ain’t gotta spell it out for me
Freak
Now Eddie’s lips were the ones on the mic, his throaty voice tearing through the air in a way that made you stop short from its power alone. He sang the first two lines on his own-
Bait me, you can cage me
Even plate me, I don’t care
You joined him for the bridge on one side of the mic while his mouth remained in place at the other, and his voice dropped down to his chest to create a sound that was more growl than song. He sounded demonic, feral- damn, you wanted to jump his bones right now. 
Get your tickets to the freak show, baby
Step right up to watch the freaks go crazy
As you both sang the chorus together this time, your eye contact across the microphone was charged with feelings reflected as though you were looking in a mirror. Anticipation for what would happen after this show was building with every lyric, and as he growled his lines into the mic you wondered what the headline would be if you stuck your tongue down his throat right now. 
Unfortunately, that wasn’t how you wanted to start this next leg of your career- at least publicly. Different time, different place. Like, say, in about thirty minutes. In your dressing room. Against a wall, preferably.
When you finished the chorus, Eddie shredded through his guitar solo like a bat out of hell, even improvised a scream into the mic that made your jaw drop yet again. Upon hearing it, you couldn’t help but let out a surprised laugh, hopping up and down in your platform boots and headbanging along with him. After he’d finished, you took hold of the mic stand with both hands and began chanting repeating lines that would take you through to the next chorus before ending the song. 
Came from the trauma, stayed for the drama
You sang the line twice before Eddie joined you for the third and fourth repetition, that deep, ripping croon tearing its way through his throat and out of his plush pink lips less than an inch from yours. You wanted to turn your head and look at him so badly, but you were so close that you’d be locking lips if you did. 
As you both sang the final chorus, you pulled back just enough for your gazes to meet; you were rewarded with lust blown umber eyes, sweat-soaked curls framing a face as timeless as music itself, and a grin that sparked pure joy in your very soul. 
If this guy can fuck, you might just fall for him. 
Eddie prompted the audience to cheer for you one more time after the song was over, shooting you a smile as he brought you in for a friendly hug. He was in front of thousands; you knew his hands would remain in strictly G-rated areas (unfortunately), but he did whisper in your ear out of range from the mic. 
“Wait for me in your dressing room.”
Bingo. 
You thought about following his lead- waiting patiently in your dressing room for him to finish up his show then have his way with you- but you had a better idea. You tilted your head up quickly to bring your lips up to his ear, your clear lip gloss catching its shell.
“I’m gonna keep watching you in the wings- you can do whatever you want after that.” 
Your eyes met as you pulled away, and you let yourself revel for a moment at the way he looked at you- like he wanted to, well…eat you. Eyes so dark they were almost black under the stage lights, he shook his head slightly in disbelief. Again, you felt that familiar rush of adrenaline from driving him crazy when he couldn’t do a fucking thing about it; you were beginning to think you might be addicted.
As Corroded Coffin finished their set, you stayed offstage and did exactly what you said you would- you watched Eddie every second. You were like a sponge soaking up every flip of his hair, every deft movement of his fingers as they flew across the frets of his guitar. Every once in a while, his eyes would flick to where you stood, checking to see if you were still there, which of course you were. Each time he saw you, you watched as he shook his head again, or rolled his eyes, or- in one case which almost resulted in you melting into a puddle on the floor- maintaining eye contact as he belted out lyrics to songs he wrote, with a gaze so smoldering it felt as if there were no one in the whole arena but the two of you. With every minute, every note, every song- you felt him spinning a web around you like a spider trapping its prey, and you willingly anticipated the moment he would finally storm off the stage and drink you dry.
And that’s exactly what he did.
The last song ended, and Eddie wasted no time in ripping his guitar from his torso, handing it to a roadie without a second glance and grabbing you by the hand. You didn’t protest as he pulled you into a corner backstage away from any prying eyes. Before you could think a coherent thought besides Wow, I’m wet, Eddie took both your wrists in his strong, ring-dappled hands and slammed them above your head against the wall. His eyes, black with lust and wolfishly hungry, bored into yours as he used the last ounce of restraint to hold himself back long enough to ask the vital question, “Tell me, you want this?”
He bit the words out; growled them into your face as your eyes widened, desire painting your expression a gorgeous shade of pathetic as you nodded desperately. A deep groan sounded from his chest as Eddie pressed his pelvis against yours, and you gasped at how hard he was. “Words, sweetheart, I need you to say it.”
That familiar flare of indignation in your chest mingled with the flames in your core that burned for all he had to give you. Your eyes shifted, screaming rebellion that harmonized with the submission that your body so desperately craved. The corner of your mouth quirked up in a mocking half-smile. “Fuck yes, I want it, what do you think I was bouncing around out there for-”
His lips murmured a “Fucking Christ,” as he cut your sentence short, smashing his needy mouth against your burgeoning smirk. His arms crumbled as he finally felt the release of his skin on yours, caging you in as his forearms collapsed against the wall, hands still closed around your wrists. His biceps flexed, framing your faces as he all but devoured you in a kiss that was so wanting, so possessive- it claimed you. It ruined all kisses that came before it and would ever follow it. 
He was ruining you, and you committed the way his whole body covered yours and made you feel both safe and coveted to memory, imprinting it on your mind knowing that you would probably never feel this wanted ever again. 
Then, just as soon as he was on you, his touch lifted away. 
A needy whine escaped your lips before you could hold it back. Eddie slotted his tattooed hand into the space where your neck met your jawline, thumb caressing your skin as he smiled sweetly down at you- but his eyes were anything but sweet.
“I gotta go back out for the encore. Go take these off-” you melted into his touch as his other hand played with the buckles at the front of your top. His hand at your neck crept back, taking your chin between his thumb and the middle knuckles of his forefinger as if he were scolding a child.
“-and wait in your dressing room.”
Your eyelids were heavy, and you smirked as you opened your mouth to argue-
“And don’t fucking argue with me.”
You bit the reply into your bottom lip- you could save the brattiness for later. Just as Eddie had begun to pull away, his eyes dropped to your teeth on your lip and in half a second he was on you again.
He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue along the soft skin before biting down firm enough to set off your mental alarms yet soft enough that you didn’t feel any pain from it. He pulled away once more, letting your lip go with a little pop.
“Been wanting to do that all night.” Eddie said, his shit-eating grin back in full force as he winked at you and jogged back to the stage. You stayed put for a second, smiling like an idiot as you heard the roar of the crowd, imagining what Eddie must look like while he returned to the stage with lips pink and swollen from his attempt at eating you alive. No one would know why he looked out of breath and a little extra happy… but you would. 
You’d never walked as fast in your life as you did in that moment, making a beeline for your dressing room, fingers already beginning to work on the buckles at your sternum.
***
When Eddie opened the door to your dressing room about ten minutes later, the gigantic grin on his face fell instantly when he saw you lounging on the couch in the same clothes you’d been wearing during sound check, sans your oversized skull sweatshirt. Your black shorts and knit tank top still showed plenty of skin, but he had explicitly told you to take off your clothes and wait for him. You were still in the mood to brat out, apparently. 
You looked up at him from your phone, smiling sweetly with challenging eyes. “Hi.”
Eddie closed the door behind him, leaning against it as it shut. “Hi.” he mimicked, crossing his inked forearms over his chest. He stared at you silently, expectantly.
You raised an eyebrow, coyly pretending not to know what he was being so pissy about. “What?”
Eddie pushed off the door, walking towards you at a pace that was agonizingly slow. “You know what.” 
You huffed haughtily, looking back at your phone and pretending to be more interested in your screen than the man who’d had you panting up against a wall ten minutes ago. “Well that’s a little presumptuous of you, I’m not a mind reader.”
It didn’t take Eddie long to cross the expanse of your tiny dressing room, deftly sliding the phone from your hands and placing it on a low table beside the couch. “Should’ve known you weren’t listening earlier,” Eddie tsked and shook his head in disappointment. “I know you were a little distracted back there, sweetheart, but when I told you to take your clothes off, I meant it.”
You sighed as Eddie stared down at you from where he stood, towering over you as you laid back against the couch cushions. His gaze devoured you piece by piece as it roved over your wide eyes, glossy lips- your shoulders still shining from sweat after giving your all to the stage, your chest as it rose and fell with your quickening breath. 
“Well,” you purred, like a cat who knew they were the center of attention and didn’t mind it in the slightest. “You didn’t say not to put on clothes after I took the other ones off…”
As you spoke he leaned forward, placing a knee on the couch between your legs so that your heat was only inches from his thigh. His hands splayed across your rib cage, admiring the stark contrast between his ink-covered hands and your soft, cream-colored shirt. It was thin enough to see… wait, were you-?
Eddie smirked, a breathy laugh escaping through his nose as he pulled the fabric taut, confirming his suspicions that yep, you weren’t wearing a bra. 
Oblivious to Eddie’s train of thought, you continued, “...if you wanted me to just wait here for you naked then you should’ve been more specif-”
Rrrrriiiiipp!
Your jaw dropped, cold air hitting your bare breasts without warning as Eddie tore your shirt open. You squealed, your shocked voice jumping up several octaves. “Eddie!” but your eyes told a different story. You were pissed, but the anger you felt was nothing compared to how fucking hot he looked after doing something as dominant and unexpected as ripping your fucking clothes off. 
He raised his eyebrows, giving you a moment to push him away in case he had gone too far- but you didn’t. Instead, you narrowed your eyes up at him and crossed your arms over your bare chest, pressing your cleavage together the way you knew would drive him nuts. “That was fucking Gucci!” you pouted.
Eddie laughed, taking your crossed arms and shoving them up above your head over the arm of the couch as he mockingly imitated your high-pitched “‘That was fucking Gucci!’” he lowered himself over you, bringing his face to the hollow of your neck, and you heard him inhale the scent of you from your collarbone to your ear. He wrapped his lips around the underside of your ear and sucked, then bit, savoring your little moan at the sensation. His mouth met your ear as he growled, “Wouldn’t have happened if you’d just done as you were told, instead of being a little fucking brat.”
Eddie pulled back, sitting up on his knee that was still slotted between your legs as he cupped his hands around your naked breasts. He kneaded them, played with you like he was testing out a brand new toy. He addressed you without looking up into your eyes as he continued to paw at your chest. “You gonna be a good girl now and do what I tell you to?”
You raised your eyebrows, amused that he expected your submission so quickly. Smugly, you looked up at him through narrowed eyes, placing your hands behind your head like a pillow and sighed petulantly. 
“Fucking bite me.”
His eyes snapped up at you, thick with predatory disbelief at your cheek even when he had you half naked beneath you. He’d been challenged before, sure- but at this point, when he had his woman pinned down and moaning under him, he was usually the undisputed decision-maker during sex. The smile that bloomed across his lips was devilish, almost like there was a beast within him that had been kept safely under lock and key- until you’d said that. 
Eddie was on you, grabbing one breast and enveloping the nipple in a harsh suck of his lips, biting down on the little nub hard. You gasped, the sound a lewd, sharp moan that brought out a laugh in him so nefarious it gave you chills. He looked up at you with eyes alight with amusement and feral need that shook you to your core.
“Oh, baby-” he laughed, crawling up until his face hovered over yours. “-I’m gonna have some fucking fun with you.”
Taking your face in his hands, Eddie Munson kissed you like it was what he had been put on God’s green earth to do. His lips moved against yours with a beautiful mix of urgency and devotion, like you could just tell that right here, right now, there was nothing else he cared about except making sure you knew exactly how badly he wanted- needed-  to make you his. He slowly lowered the rest of his body until his pelvis was flat against yours, grinding into your clothed heat and exploiting the chink in your brat armor that was the his fucking size. 
You bucked your hips up into him, craving friction as you moaned into his mouth. Eddie chuckled, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “What’s the matter baby, you need something?” 
You pouted against him, moving a hand to reach between the two of you and palm him through his jeans, but he knocked your hand out of the way, continuing to dry hump you to insanity. You whined as he bit your pouting lip, sucking it into his mouth before his tongue slipped into yours. It explored you, tasting you as your tongue happily let him in. You felt his hand creep down your torso, giving your abused, bitten tit a little squeeze before traveling further down to the button of your shorts.
He undid the button with ease before you registered that he was taking off your clothes after he had denied you access to do the same to him. “Hey,” you panted, reaching for him, “you first, that’s not fair. I’m nearly naked and you haven’t even taken off your shirt.”
Eddie chuckled, tilting his head to the side as he feigned confusion. “Fair?” he asked, “Since when did you want to play fair?” He reached back down to your shorts, button already undone, and gently pulled down the zipper. “You were the one out there- as you said- ‘bouncing around’-” His hands raked up your thighs until they reached the hem of your shorts and slowly tugged them down as you lifted your hips slightly so he could remove them smoothly. Eddie smirked; NOW she does what I want her to do.  “-knowing full well I couldn’t do a damn thing about it… and that fucking wink-” His eyes rolled back in his head just imagining it. He groaned as he pulled your shorts from your feet and discarded them on the floor. “-what the fuck was that, huh? Trying to get a rise out of me, baby?”
You giggled, bubbly laughter floating into a breathy sigh as Eddie’s finger traced the line of your slit through your panties. “Hmmmmm, like it when you call me baby.” you hummed.
 He raised an eyebrow, “Oh you do?” His finger traveled up over the fabric, and he chuckled when you bucked up into his touch as the pad of his finger passed over your clit. That finger slipped under the elastic waistband of your panties, pulling it upwards off your skin as far as it could stretch. “You’re entirely too happy right now,” he stated, matter-of-factly. He let go of the elastic, making you jump with a breathy whimper as it hit your skin with a soft sting. “I’m switching back to sweetheart.”
You whined and he laughed as he continued to play with the elastic on your panties. He stared at them, entranced, before a wolfish grin took up residence on his face. “You like these?” he asked, and you knew where this was going right away. 
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. “How kind of you to ask this time.” 
The grin grew, and he took the crotch of your panties into his fist, grabbing the fabric above it with his other hand to do the same. You ground your hips against his knuckles as they brushed your pussy, already soaked and eager for any friction you could get. “Yeah, you know what,” he voiced, as if he were simply thinking out loud. “I don’t really care if you like them or not.” 
And with that, another article of clothing was ripped to shreds by Eddie Munson and his stupid, tattooed, ring-covered, sexy-as-fuck hands. 
This time you couldn’t even be offended; you were just fucking feral at this point. While he was still distracted by your panties, you quickly shoved yourself up to a kneeling position, startling him enough that he moaned into the fervent kiss that crashed into his mouth. The two of you knelt on the couch cushions, hands grabbing at fabric desperately in a quest to make your skin connect at every square inch you had. Eddie allowed you to pull his shirt over his head, and the shallow breath you had left was instantly knocked from your lungs when you took in the ink that decorated his torso. Some tattoos were old and faded almost blue, while others looked newer- song lyrics, mythical creatures, hellish images adorned his skin like a tapestry that belonged in a museum- but it was here, under your hands. All for you. You couldn’t hold yourself back from bending down a little lower, sliding your tongue up his sternum over the masterpieces scarred into his skin and licking a long, broad stripe from his chest until you reached the tip of his chin. You felt him shiver, arms tightening around you after shoving the remains of your tank top over your shoulders. You started to push him back, planning to open his pants and show him what else you could do with your tongue- but Eddie wasn’t about to let you be on top after the way you’d been acting all night. 
“Mm-mm, nope.” he mumbled, stepping off the couch.
“I’m just trying to suck your cock, baby. Please?”  You looked up at him with your best puppy-dog eyes, widening your legs as you knelt on the couch facing him, squishing your boobs together in that way that usually got you exactly what you wanted. For some reason, Eddie was immune. 
He placed his hand along your neck, thumb and forefinger squeezing just enough for him to feel your pulse. The way your eyes widened, looking up at him the same way you had when he’d shoved you up against a wall earlier- it brought a satisfied hum out of Eddie, and he loved the way he could feel your heartbeat quicken slightly. There was no hiding what you felt when his hand was wrapped around your throat. 
“You like calling me baby, sweetheart?”
You gulped. He felt it, of course, and he had to hold back a laugh- you looked so cute like this. Made him want to break you just to see what you’d be like when he picked up the pieces. 
Your eyes were blown wide, like a hunted fox with nowhere to run. “Is that okay? Can I call you baby?”
His face crumpled- god, you were adorable. Eddie smiled sympathetically, “Oh you can call me whatever you want, sweetheart-” His thumb moved up to your bottom lip, stroking gently before working it into your mouth; he groaned, head thrown back when he felt your soft, wet tongue swirl around his digit and coat it with your spit. 
“-don’t care what you’re calling me as long as you know I own your ass tonight.”
And then you moaned- oh, you fucking moaned his name around his finger in your mouth, and his cock twitched at the way it sounded. He wanted to record that, play it on loop, put it in a fucking song, hell- anything for him to be able to listen to it again and again and again. He wanted everyone to hear it, to know it was his name on your fucking tongue.
His thumb ripped from your mouth, replaced by his middle and ring finger, delving surprisingly deep into your mouth as you gagged around them. Your tongue quickly resumed its previous motions, lapping at his thick fingers and sliding over, under, around, between them. You reveled in the taste of metal as you tongued his silver rings. You gasped when he removed his fingers before, without warning, he slid them into your weeping pussy.
Your expression was beautifully obscene, eyes wide with surprise while your mouth- glistening with spit from his fingers leaving in a rush- fallen open in a silent scream. Eddie thrust his fingers up and into you repeatedly, forcing you open wider and wider with the rapid motion.
“Actually, I changed my mind,” Eddie grit into your ear, “I don’t wanna hear anything but my goddamn name leave that pretty ‘lil mouth until I’m done with you, aright?”
You were moaning, but evidently that was still not enough to deter you from being your snarky self. “Well that’s unrealistic, I’ll probably say more than just tha- ah! Oh fuck-!”
Eddie’s pace was relentless, fingers ripping through you with a vengeance as he muttered “Bratty little slut-” spearing you over and over as you sped toward the white-hot precipice that wasn’t quite release, but certainly what Eddie intended to pull out of you. 
You moaned as what felt like a dam within you suddenly gave way, flooding your inner thighs, Eddie’s hand, and the couch beneath you. Eddie smiled wide, the muscles in his arm screaming pointlessly- he wasn’t going to stop until you’d given him every last drop there was to give. 
“-yeah, not so bratty when you’re squirting all over my hand, are you baby? What, are you trying to say something? Spit it out, popstar-”
The noises tumbling from your lips were anything but coherent, Eddie knew that. He just kept grinning like a kid in a candy store as you babbled sounds that might have been his name, might have been a prayer, might have just been yes, yes, yes, Eddie, god yes! 
Whatever it was, it was music to his ears. 
Eddie looped his arms under your knees, pulling you into a sitting position with your legs wide open. Dropping to his knees, he stared at your spread pussy, glistening with the slick he’d just wrestled from you. His hands, wet with all you’d given him, grasped your thighs firmly but gently as he looked up into your eyes. It might have been the post-orgasmic haze you were experiencing, but for a second, Eddie looked at you with nothing in his eyes but care and admiration. His gaze shone like sunlight as he looked up at you, your stomach creasing from the crunch position he'd placed you in, your breasts rising and falling with each breath- the way he stared at you made you feel like an angel. 
“God, you’re fucking beautiful.” he whispered, hands squeezing your thighs affectionately. Before you could even react, his tongue was on you, lapping away at your soaked pussy. You mewled, head thrown back and spine arching as unraveled you from the inside out. He traced endless intricate shapes over your clit, your lips, your hole- thoughts flew from your brain as you let his mouth drive you fucking wild. His ministrations slowed at one point, causing you to open your eyes- you couldn’t even remember when you’d closed them- and look up at Eddie. 
Upon looking up, you were blessed with the sight of Eddie Munson, close-cut beard soaked with your slick, shirtless, pantsless, and currently pulling off his black boxers to reveal a cock that made you salivate on sight.
You let your brattiness fly out the window- there would be time for more of it later, but right now you needed that cock in one of your holes and you didn’t quite care which one. 
Eddie stroked himself leisurely, eyes boring down into yours the whole time. “Tell me what you want, babygirl.”
You spread your legs open wider for him. “Please.” you whined. 
Eddie shook his head, disappointed, sinking to his knees again. “See, this is what I knew would happen,” he murmured, sliding a finger around your clit at a torturously slow pace. “I can’t believe you got fucked stupid already and I didn’t even have to use my cock, those were just my fingers, baby.” From the slick sounds you heard from below your line of sight, you knew that he was jerking himself off as he played with your pussy. It was enough to pull a desperate moan from your throat. He licked one flat, wet stripe from your opening to your clit before murmuring against you, “Can’t even use your words and tell me what you want, sweet girl’s been fucked too dumb to make decisions, is that right?”
You found yourself nodding ‘yes’, the dirty words flying out of his mouth in rapid succession throwing your brain into overdrive. He was right; you barely had the brain capacity to think right now, much less match his attitude with snark. All you could do was stare up at him with wide eyes, waiting for whatever he planned on doing next. 
Eddie clicked his tongue, tilting his head as he looked at you pityingly. “That’s right, don’t worry baby I’ll just make all the decisions now, okay?” He rose, leaning over you as he placed a knee to your side and stroked himself, lining up his fully hard cock at your entrance. Your heartbeat quickened, excitement and anticipation building now that you knew his cock would be inside you soon. You mewled as his tip stroked your slit, up and down and up and down again… and stopping at your hole, hovering outside you. 
You looked up at him desperately, only to breathe in sharply upon seeing his devilish grin paired with coal-black lust-blown eyes. 
“Beg for it.”
You sighed so heavy it became a sob, frustrated and scrunching up your face like you were ready to throw a tantrum. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” you whined.
“There she is.” he murmured.
If looks could kill, your glare would have sent Eddie Munson to his deathbed. He matched it with a condescending smile that spoke volumes of the power trip he was on right now. Leaning in slightly closer, he repeated himself. “Beg, sweetheart.” 
You narrowed your eyes. “No.”
Eddie shrugged, backing up just enough for his cock to leave your skin- you knew it was over from there. 
“Wait!” you cried, eyebrows drawing together desperately under his cocksure gaze. Christ you didn’t want to beg, but you might not have a choice. Eddie waited patiently, stroking his cock absentmindedly as he watched you squirm below him. 
You looked up at him, giving him your best ‘fuck me’ eyes. “Please fuck me Eddie.” Your voice was honey sweet, soft and submissive.
Eddie crouched down, sticking a finger in his mouth before he used it to play with your pussy, stroking circles around your clit and pumping it slowly in and out of you. “Aww, baby…” he crooned before narrowing his eyes. “-we both know you can do better than that.”
You groaned, back arching as your hands fisted frustratingly into the cushions. “Eddie, pleaaasse-”
“Try harder, sweetheart.”
“Fuck, Eddie you fucking prick, just fucking fuck me, please, I need your cock-”
Eddie smiled- that was good enough for him. “‘Atta girl.” he groaned deeply as he pushed his cock into your waiting hole, your thankful moan mingling with his. 
His dick was perfect, filling you deliciously and long enough to just hit that spot beneath your clit that made your nerves go berserk. You didn’t realize how loud your moaning was until Eddie shut you up by covering your mouth with his own, swallowing down every sound you made and repaying you with noises of his own. 
“God, baby- so fuckin’ tight-”
You moaned, squeezing him as his cock speared you again and again. You were so built up between your squirting earlier and Eddie’s talented tongue- you were already getting close. 
As if he could read your mind, Eddie grunted out as he continued thrusting into you, “I’m nearly there already, baby, you gonna cum with me?”
You whined, nodding ‘yes’ as he pacified your mewling with his thumb. You lapped at it lewdly, covering him with a thick layer of your spit before releasing it with a pop. Eddie brought it down to your clit, working gentle circles around your bundle of nerves as his thrusting picked up the pace. You squirmed under him, chasing your release as you listened to the filth that poured from his mouth while he fucked the living shit out of you. 
“Jesus, fuck, so tight- my sweet girl, gonna fucking ruin you. Gonna make you come undone on my cock, just a fucking mess, gonna cum so hard on my cock-”
That last thing he said seemed to jerk him back into reality- his eyes grew wide, snapped out of his high as he looked down at you. “Shit, I don’t have a condom…baby, I’m so sorry, shit, where should I-”
You reached down, raking your nails softly over his hips. “I’m on birth control.” you said, smiling calmly. You kicked yourself for being so eager; normally you would still insist on a condom even with your implant, but Eddie just did something to you. “You haven’t been fucking any random groupies, have you?”
Eddie huffed, his laughter strained by his fast-approaching orgasm. “You’re the first in a while, angel. Last I checked I was clean, but I can still pull out if you-”
“Inside.” you whispered, grasping his ass and pulling him deeper into you. “I trust you, Eddie, I want you to fill me.”
His movements stuttered, big brown eyes wide and watching you like you were a miracle unfolding underneath him. He was still for half a second before his thumb resumed its movements over your clit as he thrusted faster, harder than before.
“Oh fuck, you want me to fill you baby? You want my fucking cum?” 
His cock speared into you as deep as it could go, Eddie’s attention to your clit driving you over the edge with relentless speed. “Yes, I want it Eddie, fuck, I’m gonna-”
“Fucking take it baby, cum on that cock.”
Eddie groaned as you clamped down on him, his seed spilling inside of you while your pussy fluttered around him. You arched your back until your face was pressed into the cushions behind you, muffling your whimpering voice as you moaned his name. 
A few moments passed, the air thick with the sound of heavy breathing and the smell of sex, before Eddie slowly pulled out of your wet heat. You laid there for a moment before you felt Eddie clean his sticky spend from your thighs and ass using a tissue. 
“Normally,” he said gently, “I would use a warm washcloth to do this, but we have limited options.” 
You sat up as he finished, smiling up at him playfully. “That sounds nice,” you said, “maybe I shouldn’t have listened to you earlier, made you wait until you couldn’t take it anymore and just whisked me off to your place.” 
Eddie sat down beside you, pulling you into his lap. He looked up at you with nothing but content sweetness in his eyes, any trace of the feral dominance from earlier gone for now. “I mean, we can still do that.”
You beamed, “Really?”
Eddie scoffed, tugging you closer. “What do you mean, ‘really’? You think I need to be desperately horny to want you in my bed?” 
You felt your cheeks heat up at the mention of his bed. “I don’t know… I guess I didn’t know if you wanted this to just be a one time thing, or…” You trailed off, unsure of what Eddie’s expectations had been for what happened after.
Eddie’s eyebrows drew together, confused. “Sweetheart,” he said, his finger tracing circles on your thigh affectionately. “We can hash out details whenever you’re comfortable… but tonight? I would count myself a very lucky man if you came home with me tonight.” He touched his forehead to yours, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose. “Okay?” he asked.
You looked down, suddenly shy upon hearing his honey-sweet words. You gave him a quick peck on the lips before looking him in his big brown eyes. “Okay.” you whispered. 
Your eyes stayed connected, melting you until your lips met his again, kissing him sweetly as his hands worked their way to your ass, squeezing as he sighed into your kiss.
“Alright,” he grunted, playfully slapping your thigh as a signal to stand up. “Let’s get you dressed.”
You giggled. “In what? You ripped up all my clothes!” you held up the shredded panties, shaking your head in disbelief.
Eddie shrugged, stepping into his boxers. “I didn’t rip up all of them, don’t be so dramatic.” He picked up your shorts, tossing them to you. “Just go commando with the shorts and wear your sweatshirt, no one will know.” 
You sighed, stepping over your torn Gucci tank top and retrieving your bra from where it sat neatly folded in a chair. Eddie looked over his shoulder at you as you began to put it on and gasped. 
“You did have a bra!”
You smirked, reaching behind your back for the clasp. “Yeah… I wanted to see your face when I wasn’t wearing one.” 
Eddie shook his head, smiling like an idiot as he buckled his jeans. “Unbelievable.” he chided, “Was it worth it?”
You tugged your sweatshirt over the bra, taking a few steps in Eddie’s direction until you were close enough to snake your hand around to the back of his neck and pull him down for one more kiss. When you pulled away, Eddie looked down at you entranced, blinking rapidly as if emerging from a dream. He could only describe the feeling in his chest as complete and utter euphoria. 
You grinned up at him, eyes alight with adrenaline that still lingered from your performance onstage and absolute infatuation with the man before you.
 “So worth it.”
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mcmansionhell · 2 years
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a fine selection of bonker facades from the DC suburbs
Howdy folks! In honor of Halloween, here are some of the scariest houses currently for sale in the ever-cursed suburbs of Washington, DC. It's been awhile since I checked in on this particular hotspot, and once more, it did not disappoint.
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I'll just get this one out of the way. Long-time McMansion Hell-heads are well aware of this monster estate in Potomac, MD, once allegedly owned by a particular professional athlete who will not be named, because the house should suck on its own merit. The only nice thing I can say about this house is that the designers kept the materials and colors consistent, which adds some unity to what is, in reality, five turrets in a trench coat.
Some things, the economists tell us, are too big to fail. This is not one of them. Let's move on.
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Many McMansions exist to mock the concept of architectural consistency and historical continuity. This is one of them. About every single type of expanded second-story window elaboration exists here: bay window, covered balcony, juliet balcony. None of them work. The house can't decide if its 19th century eclecticism or tony DC Georgian/Federal cocktail. The random cupola merely adds insult to injury.
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I don't know where realtors learned how to do photoshop, but whoever taught them should have their Adobe licenses revoked. There's a certain type of McMansion I call a "hat house" - which is exactly what it sounds like. It's a house with multiple bays or masses and each has its own special hat. This is one of the most egregious examples because all of the hats are different shapes and scales. Not even the most Disney Theme Park pink sky and fairy lighting can mitigate the controlling aesthetic influence of hät.
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No compilation of Bad Facades would be complete without at least one Frankentudor™. Rich people in America really like to harken back to the days of feudalism, yet uglier, more drab, and using materials mostly derived from petrochemicals. The lighting is not helping this house, which is about as gloomy, hulking, and bloated as they come.
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I have some fondness for houses that derive new, inventive forms of being ugly. The spread eagle McMansion is one of them, two oblique wings with no real core. A corner lot specimen. This one is especially weird, with the quadruple portholes, the windowless bays, the mall foyer, and the hipped roof that's not quite clipped, complete with tacked on gables. Kind of neat, sad to say.
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I know most of you won't agree, but I actually believe this is the worst McMansion of the set. The absolute banality of it, the out-of-proportion everything, the compound-like demeanor, the nonsensical spacing of the mind-numbingly identical windows. The most infuriating part is that whoever designed this had some kind of order, continuity, proportion in mind and just failed utterly at it, like Sideshow Bob stepping on all those rakes. I hate it!!!!
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When rich people try to make overly-inflated temples to their dumb piles of money, it's deeply satisfying when they end up looking like this house, which is just a pile of roof and wall tacked on to the worst proportioned portico imaginable. Classic McMansion Hubris. Let us all laugh.
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Now we're getting into the more eldritch horror part of the list. Some houses make me wonder if I have the same set of eyeballs and conceptions of what "a house" looks like as other people. This one is playing dress up games with foam stickers. It looks like Steve's shirt from Blues Clues. It abuses the prairie muntins, which is an insult to my chosen hometown of Chicago, Illinois. Bad house.
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Not enough time is devoted on this blog to bad modernism, though it would be rather generous to call this house modern. It's more like postmodernism trying to remember what modernism looked like and tripping down a flight of stairs collecting random masses and windows on the way down. Houses like this give modern architecture a bad name. It's borderline libel. Also it looks like it was made out of cardboard.
This brings us to our final, and objectively worst house:
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I don't even know what to say about this freak of architecture. I don't know how it came together or why. I don't know what it wants or even pretends to do. It is a horrorshow. Gables protruding from random places, stealth roof fragments, windows too small for the walls they're embedded in, a weird cathedral-like entrance, the mosquito-infested pond, the worst example of realtor sky I've ever seen, all of it is terrible. It's haunted. Trick or Treat, but without the treat.
Anyway, that does it for this installment. If you're curious about more McModern badness, this month's Patreon bonus post will be to your liking!
Happy Halloween and Día de Los Muertos!
If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including extra posts and livestreams.
Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar, because media work is especially recession-vulnerable.
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ssaluv-a-lot · 7 months
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Woke up at 2 am thinking about this…
A/N: This might be the best thing Ive ever done. 18 plussss, deadass. No Minors 💁🏽‍♀️ Grown ppl enjoy.
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Oh shit…You should be home right now. You should be home in bed with your man but instead you were out and tipsy and yet the thought of Fontaine pulling up to air the place out was enough to sober you up. On wobbly legs, you carried yourself out of the club and fished your phone out your purse.
4 missed calls, 2 FaceTimes, and hella text messages. You were so fucked.
It wasn’t even a full second after you pressed the screen to call him back that you heard the bass boosted rnb coming from his Pontiac. Then it was his rumbling engine and beaming headlights that swung around the corner.
Fontaine didn’t even wait until the car was rightfully parked before he climbed out and stalked towards you, scowl permanently etched onto his features.
“Baby, i’m so fucking sorry.” You reached out for him, grabbing hold of his jacket.
He pried your hands from his jacket and grumbled a stern. “Get in the car.”
“Fontaine!” You whined, tripping over your heels to grab him again.
“Get in the fuckin car! I ain’t playin wit you!” He shouted, gripping your arm up and forcing you towards the vehicle while you continued to apologize.
He climbed into the driver’s seat with a huff as you buckled your own seatbelt.
The drive was silent and the tension thick. You knew that once you got home, he would be on you about staying out late, getting drunk without a ride. The whole nine yards on safety.
You didn’t even need to mention the fact that every one knew you were his girl and that so much as a flirty comment would get them in big trouble.
The car rumbled to a stop in front of your home and a heavy sigh released itself from Fontaine’s chest.
“When we get in that house, ion wanna hear shit about how sorry you are. Ion give a fuck. You get your ass up to that room and wait.”
You nodded your head as a shiver tingled at your spine. Then, his rough hand was gripping your cheeks, tilting your head every which way.
“Nobody touched you up in there right? You ain’t hurt?” He loosened his grip as it seemed you went untouched as long as you were out.
“No..” A smile crept across your glossy lips as you realized he wasn’t really mad at you, just worried since you didn’t answer his calls
“Don’t lie to me just cause you think I’m already pissed.”
“No, Fontaine. Nobody did anything. I just danced and shit.”
The man sucked his teeth as he climbed out of the car, going around the front to open your door.
Once inside the house, you wasted no time getting up stairs and sitting on the bed as his heavy foot steps followed.
“Strip outta them clothes.” He ordered as the bedroom door clicked shut behind him and he kicked off his shoes.
You scrambled out of your top, tossing it somewhere. Out of your bra, tossing it someplace else. And then, you fumbled with your skirt before it pooled at your feet, leaving you in your panties, looking up at him as he loomed over you.
“Now how come when you think you getting some dick, you can listen to me but when I tell you to come home before midnight, you ain’t got a damn clue?”
“I-“ The words got stuck in your throat as he aired you out.
“Hm.” Fontaine scoffed, shrugging off his bomber and pulling his hoodie over his head, leaving him in his gold chain and a pair of low hanging sweats. “Hands and knees.”
“Fontaine!” You whined. “Please?”
“Nah come on. Don’t make me fix you my self.”
You huffed as you turned yourself into the position and pressed your body into the sheets. The impact came almost instant, the burning sting as he cracked a palm to your right ass cheek.
Your eyes squeezed shut as a yelp caught in your throat. Another resounding smack to your ass as he mumbled to himself. Something about you tripping and acting like you ain’t know better.
His monologue must’ve really started to piss him off because the next impact of his calloused hands had you gripping the sheets as a squeal released from your mouth.
“M sorry, Taine..” You mumbled, turning your head to look back at him as he stroked your burning skin.
“Mhmm.” Another crack of his palm against and then he was pulling at your panties, tugging them down to the fold of your knees as a finger slipped between your legs and through your slickened folds. “All that complaining and you wet any damn way.”
Your brows knitted together as he swiped his fingers across your pussy, brushing your clit and circling your entrance, then back up to your clit to rub firm circles into the bud.
“Fontaine..” It came out breathy and pleading as you relished in the pressure being released. “Fuck..feels good.”
“Yeah?” He hummed, squatting down to get a better look at your actively sopping pussy, wet and waiting to be filled.
The sight was marveling, almost making him forget what he was supposed to be doing. Your whimpers were music to him as he drew them out of you with rougher circles to your clit.
He brought his mouth to your ass, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin as you squirmed against him.
“F-fuck..baby! I’m close!” Your jaw dropped as the knot in your belly tightened up. You arched into the bed, ready for it to hit you any second.
At the last moment, Fontaine withdrew his fingers with a dark groan, leaving you squirming and pushing your ass back against him for more.
As the realization dawned, tears pricked your eyes.
“No! Daddy please! I-I wanna come!”
“You gonna wait. Just like you made me wait up for you.” He pressed another kiss to your ass and raised to his feet.
“But-“ Your words were cut as he wrapped a hand around the front of your neck and pulled you up to rest on your knees. His lips slotted against yours, his tongue dipping in and invading your mouth sloppily.
His grip on your neck tightened as he took your plump bottom lip between his gold teeth with a growl. “You know I love you right?”
“Yeah. Love you too,” Fontaine released your neck and you could hear the fabric of his sweats as he tugged them down along with his boxers, letting his hard erection spring free.
He pressed a hand to the small of your back, creating an arch that propped your ass up just how he liked it. Carefully, he dragged his blunt tip across your wet folds, tapping it against your clit until you shuddered and your toes curled in anticipation.
He pushed into your clenching center with a groan as he adjusted his hands to your hips and your face dropped into the pillow. “Fuck..” Fontaine tugged his sweats a little lower as you mewled into your pillows.
His thrusts started slow, drawing out to the tip and easing in to his hips until he was coated in your arousal. “You good?” He asked, fully sheathed.
“Uh huh.” You spared him a weak nod and he took that as his go ahead, catching a rhythm as he drilled into you.
His nails digging into your hips so you didn’t try to run. Your mouth permanently slack jawed as he hit that spot that made you see stars.
“Must’ve been out ya mind, baby.” Fontaine huffed. “Making me have to drive up there like that..”
“Ooh daddy..” You threw your ass back to meet his hips with eagerness, your orgasm crawling up your spine and making your head a little foggy.
“Mhmm. Ignoring my fuckin calls.” He cracked a palm against your ass, making you yelp and push back into him.
The dull smack of your skins colliding as he drove his dick into your greedy pussy was all you could hear. All the shit he was talking went in deaf ears.
“Fuck, Fontaine! Shiiit!” Your eyes rolled back as your orgasm rolled over you, your hands turning pale as you gripped the sheets tightly.
“That’s it.” He kept fucking you through it, not letting up no matter how much you whined about it being too much. “Keep taking that dick..”
A sticky white ring formed around the base of his cock, making the already slippery task of staying inside you, that much harder.
“I got half a mind to never let you out again..”
“Mmm..no, wait.” You whispered as he angled his thrusts to brush against your spot again. You felt yourself building up again, only the pressure felt heavier and much stronger. “F-Fontaine!”
You attempted to press a hand to his abdomen to slow his thrusts and allow you a minute to relax but your shaky hand was slapped away.
“Actin like you ain’t got no fuckin sense.” He pressed into your back a little harder, angled his hips deeper. “I feel that shit. You gonna soak me baby?”
“I-I Ahh!” Your pussy clenched him tight, keeping him right where he was as you squirted onto the sheets with a scream. Your legs shivering and body shaking as he marveled at the sight.
“Fuuck.” He pulled out of you with a soft smile, rubbing his wet dick through your swollen folds, spreading the substance across your thighs. “You trynna do that again?”
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watsittoyah · 11 months
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Along Came A Spider…2099
Warnings-Sexual content, sex dreams, time travel, oral sex, rough sex, fang play, size kink, and slight blood play.
(My Spanish isn’t great, so I did use google translate to help…)
Chapter 2- Bites & Fangs
The last time you had a depression episode, it was in the tenth grade when your old boyfriend, Peter Parker had dumped you for some girl named Gwen.
Well that was many years ago and now you were depressed because you were watching good burger in your ratty old polka dot robe.
But you were in denial, because every time Erica asked if you were depressed you just lied and said you were just working on something important.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come out? It’s been two weeks.” Erica asks as you press play to Good Burger. “Yeah, I’m good. I got a pizza coming and I got some drafts to work on.” You half lie. There was a pizza coming.
“Tomorrow let’s go to the park and get some fresh air. You need it.” You ignore her and Milo cuddles up close to you. “Please make sure you clean your dishes. I’ll be back around midnight.” Erica calls out.
When she finally leaves you look down at Milo’s orange little face and you kiss his nose. “I think you’re the only boy I can trust, Milo. I’m sure you’d never leave me in a club bathroom with my panties at my ankles right?”
His blue eyes just seem to stare at you and you nod because you’ve entered your crazy cat lady era. “Don’t answer that. Let’s get you some food and I’ll…clean up.” You pause the movie and bring Milo into the kitchen with you.
You pour him a bit of dry food and mix it with some wet food. You place his food down and he look down at the food then back at you. You kneel down and scratch under his chin and he licks your fingers.
“Milo, don’t ever become one of those jerk cats that leads girl cats on. You keep being a good boy.” You comments after you stand up. You look at the kitchen and decide to start cleaning there.
You get some cleaning supplies and sigh heavy. It’s been two weeks since the club incident and you haven’t let yourself think about Miguel since. Sure he lives in the building but you have no clue which apartment. And yeah he lives in the same city as you but you don’t know which parts he goes to.
Sure you still dream about Miguel, you still dream about his touch, his smell…No. No you weren’t going to do this. You were not about to cry over him again.
You sniffle back the tears and wipe your face with the back of your hand. “Stupid good looking bastard. With your good looking hair and cute accent.” You toss some water into a bucket and Milo just stares at you.
“Milo, you might want to leave the kitchen it’s about to get crazy in here.” You tell him. He simply meows and licks your leg.
Maybe you’re about to be on your period. Or maybe you’re just hormonal but him doing that just made you break down and cry. “Come on Milo, stop. I need to mop up my tears.” You say through your cloudy vision….
••••
After two good cries and half a mental breakdown, you were happy with how the apartment looked. You hear the doorbell ring and you make sure Milo was still sleeping at your feet before you went to answer it.
You grab the money from off the counter and open the door to see a young girl with your food. “Medium cheese pizza with garlic knots?” She asks confirming your order. “You got it.” You hand her a twenty and tell her to keep the change. “Actually miss you’re five dollars short.” You give her a side eye and nod. “Let me go and grab you some more money then.” You prop the door open a bit so Milo can’t leave out and you place the food down on the counter.
You go into your wallet and pull out the money you need and go to give it to her. “Here you go.” You hand it to her and she gives an extra big smile. “Tip?” I know fucking we-
“You have a good night.” You tell her. Just as you’re about to close the door. Milo runs between your legs and out the door. “Milo!” You shout after him as you run down the hall.
You almost have him but a door opens and he runs inside. “Milo!” You yell as you start to run inside of the apartment. But something screams stop and you obey that voice in your head.
When you look up your heart was pounding because it was just your luck that it was his apartment. You take several steps back as you see him go back into his apartment. If Milo wasn’t inside you’d be flying back to the apartment and locking yourself inside.
You hear his little meow and you don’t look up because you know those hazel eyes are looking down at you. “Thank you.” You mutter as Miguel hands Milo back to you. “You can’t go running into strangers apartments, Milo. What if they would’ve hurt you? That’s it you’re grounded. No cartoons for a week.” You scold him as you hear Miguel chuckle.
“Isn’t that a bit harsh? I’m sure the little guy didn’t mean it.” You raise a sculpted brow at him and turn without saying a word. “Amo-”
“Don’t call me that. My name is Tommie! Do you understand, Mr. O’Hara? Tommie. Not Amor, not mi corazón. None of those nicknames. You don’t get that privilege after what you fucking did.” You snap at him, causing Miguel to flinch.
“I’m sorry. But I can explain.” You roll your eyes at him and you march to your apartment with Milo tucked in your arms.
You go to slam the door but Miguel stops it and you go to snap at him but he raises his hands to show he means no harm. Instead of arguing, you tell him to close the door before Milo gets out again.
He does what he’s told and you place Milo down on the floor in front of you. He jumps down and he circles Miguel. “Hola niño pequeño. How are you?” Miguel says as he scoops Milo up in his arms.
“Milo isn’t friendly. He loves to scratch, especially at peoples eyes.” You tell Miguel. Milo, the little traitor licks Miguel’s nose and stands on his shoulder.
You narrow your eyes at the cute little monster. “You sleep on the couch tonight.” He gives a cute meow and Miguel picks him up and rubs his belly as Milo goes to lick his fingers. “Your mom is mad at me, do you think you can help me out?”
“First things first, you talking to my roommate kitten isn’t going to get you off of the hook, Mr. O’Hara. He is in the apartment, you can leave.”
You turn away from him and get your pizza and garlic knots. “That smells good, are you and Milo going to eat that?” Miguel asks as he leans against the wall and holds Milo close. You see him from the corner of your eye and you keep the scowl on your face.
“You get one small tiny slice, a glass of tap water and a crumb of my garlic knots. After that you take your crack back to your place.” You say as you motion him to follow you into the kitchen.
He places Milo down and he watches you as you grab two plates from the cabinets. “We wash our hands in this apartment, Mr. O’Hara.” You announce to him. “Yes, Ma’am.” Miguel stands up and as you wash your hands, you pass the soap to him. He takes it, as his fingers brush against yours. Those fingers that have touched you. Those fingers that have been on your mind, those fingers that you’ve been tempted to taste.
You clear your throat and you give him a slice. “I’m sorry about leaving like that. I was an ass and if I were you I wouldn’t talk to me ever again either.”
“So I shouldn’t talk to you? Got it.” You say stubbornly. He sighs and you feel a bit bad for making this difficult for him. But he deserved it…a little. “Am-Tommie. If it helps, I’ve been miserable for not talking to you.”
“You have my number, Miguel you could’ve texted me.”
“The phone works both ways, Tommie.” He says as he accepts the pizza from you. You turn away from him because deep down, you’re actually happy that he’s here. In fact this has been the happiest you’ve been in past two weeks.
You grab a pitcher of ice tea and grab two glasses. “Would you like some ice?” You ask as you place the glasses down on the counter. “I thought you were giving me tap water.” He says with a smirk playing across his lips.
“I can give you tap water if that’s what you want, Miguel.” You grab the glass but he gets a hold of your wrist and he gives you a look that says he’s sorry. “Yes, I’ll have ice.” He says as he uses his thumb to rub your inner wrist.
You stand there longer than necessary and just look into his eyes. Why does this all feel so familiar? You go to speak but the glass knocks out of your hand and you expect to hear a crash. But it never comes because Miguel had caught it effortlessly.
He placed the glass on the counter and you gently take your wrist back. “How many would you like?” You ask as you open the freezer door and try to crack the ice cube tray.
You turn and he was right there. “Here let me.” He takes the tray from you and he cracks it. He takes a small piece and he brings it to your lips. It’s an action you’ve done since you were a child.
Whenever you cracked some ice, you would take the smaller pieces and you’d chew on it. You take it from him and he turns away from you, placing ice in both of the glasses.
“How did he…” You whisper as you suck the ice. You walk over and you pour the ice tea in both of the glasses. You two sit down on the stools and as you eat you pass him the chili pepper flakes. “Gracias, mi amor.”
“You’re welcome.” You say as he shakes some flakes onto his pizza. You take a big bite and you hear Miguel cough from the flakes. “Are you sure you’re part Latino? Can’t even handle pepper flakes.” You tease as you reach over and bite his slice. “Hey, that’s mine.” He says with a laugh.
“Well consider me getting my pouring your tea fee.” You joke. “Then what do I get for cracking the ice for you?” He asks as he leans in close to you. “What do you want?” You ask as you take a sip of your tea.
“I think you know what I want, Tommie.” His eyes travels over your body and you feel warm all over and secretly happy you’re not wearing your ratty robe. “Oh I don’t think that’s equal value, Miguel.” He licks his fingers and you can’t help but think of something else you could be sucking.
“I don’t know, that ice was pretty hard to crack. Maybe I can crack something else for you though.” Miguel says as he places a heavy hand on your bare thigh. He squeezes it and you suck your bottom lip.
“Mmm, don’t go sucking that bottom lip, amor.” You release your lip and pout. “Then what should I do with it?” You ask as you open your legs and feel his thumb rubbing your inner thigh. “Let me suck it for you. You know I do love sucking your lips, mostly these.” His hand travels up your thigh and you let out a moan.
Miguel leans in to kiss you but you jump back. “No, no, no. Not like this. We’re staring over and we’re going to start over as friends.” You close your legs and scoot your chair back from him.
“As friends. Good.” Miguel says as he keeps eyeing you like a hungry dog. “Yes, friends. So how was your day?” You ask as you bounce your leg. “It was miserable in the beginning, all because I mistreated my friend.”
“Oh! Well I hope you groveled and got on your knees to get her forgiveness.” You say as you continue to bounce your leg. “I don’t mind groveling. But I do know she loves when I’m on my knees.” The swallow you made was definitely loud enough for Miguel to hear.
You look at him and Miguel was no longer touching his food, instead he was standing up and letting his chair scrape across the floor. “If you want to be friends, then that’s fine. But I don’t want to be friends. I want you, and I’ll never leave the way I did, Tommie. Now I don’t know about you but I’ve been thinking about the taste of your pussy for the past two weeks and to know the only thing stopping me is your consent and those shorts is making me a bit crazy. So do I have your consent? If no then I’ll unders-”
“Miguel shut up and fuck me.” When you give him the green light he pounces and he lets his chair fall on the floor as he pulls you in.
He lifts you up and he pins you against the refrigerator. He kisses your lips and your hands work on getting his shirt off. “Mmm, Tommie where is your bedroom?” He asks as he sucks your bottom lip. “Down….the hall.” He cups your ass under your shorts and starts walking out of the kitchen. You manage to get his shirt off and you toss it. As you walk pass you grab your glass of ice and Miguel kisses your lips again, twirling his tongue with yours. You suck it and you grab the wall. “That way.” You tell him.
He kicks your door open and then kicks it shut once he’s inside. Miguel places you down on your feet and he looks down at you. “Eres tan hermosa.” He goes to kiss you but you press your fingers against his lips. “I need you to take off these jeans, and take off these boxers.” You tell him as you take a piece of ice into your mouth.
He doesn’t say a word, he simply just does what you’ve asked of him and he stood there like a chiseled stoned god. You press your hand against his taught stomach and he sits down on your bed causing it to creak.
You lower yourself onto your knees and press his thighs apart. He leans down and he kisses you, sucking and biting at your bottom lip as he reaches under your t shirt, massaging your right breast.
You break the kiss first and you grab another piece of ice. “You know, if I would've known you were just down the hall from me, I would’ve invited you over sooner. And we could’ve done this." You press the ice cube against the head of his dick and you watch Miguel’s eyes flutter closed.
“I’ll…remember that when I need a cup of sugar, mi corazón.” He lets out a soft moan and you grip him in your hand. God he was huge, how was this going to fit in your mouth? Let alone inside of you?
You needed at least two hands to hold him properly. So you popped the ice into your mouth, took him in both of your hand and you rolled the ice with your tongue over the tip.
You let the head and the ice past your lips and you suck slowly so you can get use to the size. “Una chica tan buena para mí. My good girl.” You look up at him and see his eyes full of lust. You then suck a bit faster, letting the ice melt away and Miguel lets out a whimper.
You decide to take him in your throat and you feel the tickle in your throat. The gag reflex. But you push past it and Miguel runs his fingers through your hair. “Mine, all fucking mine.” He says as he caresses your face.
You slowly start to bob your head up and down which causes pre to leak from Miguel. You taste it and he shutters. “Amor, amor you don’t have to do…th…that.” You were sucking and using your tongue at the same time which was starting to cause your throat to get tighter.
You don’t answer him, you just keep going. Keep sucking. You see he’s breathing heavy and he tries to move you off but you pin his arms down. Which was ridiculous because you knew he was the stronger one.
Then again maybe he’s weak around you.
He whines about how good your throat feels on the tip and he keeps still so he doesn’t hurt you. You look up into his eyes and you see the lust and want. You try to deep throat him but you feel yourself about to choke. “S…stop. Stop Tommie. Don’t hurt yourself.” Miguel moves you back and you have drool down your chin.
“But I want more, I want you to fuck my throat.” You say staring down at his hard thick dick. “I know, but baby next time. We have all the time in the world. Come here.” He helps you off of your knees and he sits you on his lap.
You spread your legs and his dick was pressed against the front of your shorts. “You feel that?” He presses it up harder against you and you let your head fall back and moan. “Yes, I do.”
“You want this inside of this little pussy don’t you?” You nod, looking into his ruby eyes. “I don’t think you do, amor. I think it’s too big for you to handle.”
You pout and caress his cheek. “I want you, I want you inside of me. I want you to fuck me till I can’t stand. Miguel please.” You beg as you flick your tongue out against his puffy bottom lip.
“Esa boca tuya...it’s gonna get you in trouble.” He says as he sucks your tongue. You moan and flick your tongue against his teeth. “I think my mouth is worth the trouble.” You say to him. You feel his hands grip your thighs and that’s when you hear your shorts rip. You don’t even both to look down, you can feel that he has it positioned right against you.
He slaps the head against the head of your clit and you let out a moan. “Relax for me, Tommie. I want this to feel good. Let me help you feel good.” You nod and as he slides his dick in you, your mouth forms a big O and you grip his forearms.
He hisses and moans how tight you are against your neck. He thrusts in slowly and you rest your body against him. He picks up his pace a little and turns your head so that he can kiss you.
“Does this hurt? Please let me know if I’m hurting you.” You shake your head. “Issgood.” You moan out as you take his hand and bring it to your clit. He rubs it slowly as he thrust in a bit faster.
“God I could fuck you for hours, mi princesa.” He continues to rub your clit as he grips your waist with the other hand. You were in heaven right now, getting your pussy filled while inhaling this man scent. You were in such lust, your legs were aching.
His thrusts start to get animalistic and you can feel his teeth starting to scrape gently across your brown skin.
You lean your head back against his shoulder and you moan out the first thing that comes to mind. “Do it…I want you to.” Miguel’s breathing starts to become heavy and his grip on you feels as if it’s going to leave bruises.
“Whatever you want, amor. I’ll do it. Whatever you want.” His voice sounds harsh and his starts to rub you slower as he thrusts faster, which makes your body start to shake. “Bite me…please bite me.” You moan out as your eyes roll back from him fucking you like a rag doll.
He lets go of your waist and he grips your shoulder. You feel the sharp pain for only a second and you feel not just his fang like teeth biting down on your shoulder, but you feel him coming deep inside of you. You groan out a few words in gibberish and you come hard.
You feel him let go and your body feels weak against him. He leans his head against your back as you feel warm liquid roll down your breasts. When you finally feel some strength enter your body you see four bite marks on your shoulder.
Before you can open your mouth, Miguel licks it clean and he slides out of you. You wince and he places you on the bed. From his body language you can tell he was going to bolt.
And you were right he stands up abruptly and he was about to leave but you grab his hand. “Stop. Don’t you dare leave me again.” You say in a command you didn’t know you could muster.
“It’ll be wise for you to let go, amor.” Miguel says in a strange tone. “I’ll let go when I know your aren’t going to leave me…” His shoulders were tense and you stand up trying to look Miguel in the eyes. But he turned his face.
“Miguel look at me.” You say to him. He looks away and this time you reach up and grab a hold of his face. “Look at me, please.” Your voice cracks and he looks down at you.
He had the same face you saw back from the club only this time he looked vulnerable. Your grip on him loosens and you give a gentle smile. “You are so pretty.” You tell him.
He bursts out laugh and you see his four fangs in the moonlight. His laugh was contagious because your started laughing as well. “You, are so odd, amor.” Miguel says as he wipes the corner of his eyes.
“Well I’m sorry I had to say the first thing that came to mind and you look pretty.” Miguel rolls his eyes. “I’m a man, I’m not meant to be pretty.”
You place your hands on your hips. “Well to me you are pretty, Miguel O’Hara.” You smile at him and you take a step forward. Carefully because you don’t know if he still might leave.
“May I?” You ask as you reach up. You can see the hesitation in his face and you reach back. “You don’t have t-” He takes your hands and places them on his face. He slowly opens his mouth and he shows you his teeth. You don’t say a word. Instead you rub your fingers against his four fangs. They feel sharp and they should scare you, but oddly enough you like them.
“Does that mean I’m going to turn into a vampire?” You finally ask. He gets a hold of your hands and he kisses each finger. “No mi corazón, you won’t turn into a vampire, because I am not one.”
“Then what are you?”
“Oh I’m something much worse than that.” You furrow your brows trying to get an answer out of him but he isn’t budging. “Does it hurt? Your fangs?” He shakes his head. “Are you hurt? I didn’t mean to bite you that hard. I was kind of lost in the moment.”
You feel your face get hot as you shake your head. “No, it…felt good.” He crouched down and and study’s your face. “Are you hurt down there?” He asks. You look down at your feet and shake your head again. “No, that felt good too. Could we?”
Miguel laughs again and holds a hand over his stomach. “Of course you’d want to have sex again. And I want to but right now, I’m…a little too excited in another sense. And you look tired.”
“No I’m not.” You yawn and you hate that your body betrayed you. “Come, come. Let’s get you into bed.” He leads you to your bed and helps you in.
“But I have more questions.” You tell him. “I know you do, and I’ll have answers for you in the morning.” He leans down and kisses your forehead and before he leans back you grab his arm. “Miguel…I forgive you.” You tell him.
He gives you a warm smile. “Thank you.” He says as he searches your eyes. “W…will you be there when I wake up?” You ask, not wanting him to leave. Because maybe this is a dream and if it is, you didn’t want to wake up.
“I’ll stay the night. Now give me a second.” You let him go and he looks around the room. He finds his boxers and you watch as he puts them on. He leaves the room for about ten minutes and when he comes back. He hands you a glass of water and he crawls under the covers and lays beside you.
“Is this better?” He asks as you take a sip of water and place the glass on your nightstand. You nod and curl up close to him. You place your hand against his bare chest and maybe it’s the trick of the light or maybe you’re just tired. But you see a ring on your finger as you look at your hand.
You blink and the ring was no longer there. “Night, Miguel.” You whisper as your body relaxes. “Good night, mi amor.” Miguel says as he pulls you close to his body.
The last thing you think of is if this is a dream, you just didn’t want to wake up…
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beaniegaebie · 2 months
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i don't really have any solid conclusions about this yet but i noticed A Thing in a rewatch and i haven't found it mentioned elsewhere yet so here we go
(apologies for the appalling image quality you're about to see, i can't screenshot easily rn pls bear with)
OKAY so in the scene where crowley confronts gabriel about "shut up and die", something about the arrangement of book stacks caught my eye a little
the majority of the books are angled so that we mostly just see the page edges and not the spines clearly, EXCEPT for a particularly shiny and familiar colour combo right here-
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but nothing too weird going on there, i thought, crowley coloured books in a bookshop so what? right up until i registered crowley's line when we get a closer look-
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hhhhmmmmMMmmmm yes yes "everything just the way you wanted" huh, very interesting considering that we know how much thought goes into props huh
and for most of the shots we get of crowley in this position those freaking books are just quietly nestled right there in the corner-
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look at that god damn framing i fuckin see you, you glorious bastards
so i paused to see if i could figure out what the hell was up with those fuckers and this is when i absolutely lost my mind, your honour
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A and C you say?? in crowley colours???? framed like this?????? localised entirely within your kitchen???
anyway long story short they're two books from an Agatha Christie Crime Collection set (24 volumes, three stories per volume) and guess whats on the mfing front covers I'm-
(its a rant for another post but when paired with this other set of initials spotted in s2 i want to scream actually)
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ANYWAY back to the books, through an absolutely unhinged comparison of the formatting of gold text blobs i reckon the two we have here are:
(on top) The Pale Horse; The Big Four, The Secret Adversary
(on bottom) 4:50 From Paddington, Lord Edgeware Dies, Murder in Mesopotamia
(I'm fairly confident but if anyone has a better image to confirm/correct this pls do)
now here is where I'll need a bunch of help from some Christie-heads out there bc I haven't read any of these and I've only seen the tv adaptation of one of them, so i dont know for sure if these are like A Clue, or A Cool Thing, or if I've just fully brainrotted myself into a fun lil corner here? wa-hoo
but here's some initial stuff that jumped out at me after skimming the basics:
(some of) the titles: Pale Horse/Big Four - death's horse ofc, the four horsemen mayb? the them+adam?? ; Mesopotamia is a very biblical choice bbz ; 4:50 From Paddington- azi likes trains i guess? idk that one's tenuous lmao ; honestly no idea with the other two but Secret Adversary feels a tad ominous
iirc Big Four just has kind of an unusual history, it was initially twelve short stories that she later compiled into one, and it was published fairly soon after christie's mysterious disappearance/reappearance
in Big Four, poirot fakes his death at one point and doesnt even let hastings in on it and I'm hoping sure its totally irrelevant to the ineffable bois
part of the Pale Horse story is a group of assassins that basically try to pass off all their murders as being actually caused by like ✨satanic powers✨ which is interesting
christie knew a fUCkton about poisonings thats why she wrote so many into her work and, while i don't believe the poison coffee theory myself, it sure is an interesting link with how cyanide is associated with almond smell/flavour and that metatron chooses almond syrup in particular
(ALSO random side note that is mostly meaningless but I've worked in a good few uk coffee shops and have never worked anywhere that stocks almond syrup; almond milk yes, hazelnut syrup yes, but never almond syrup...? prob just the places i worked though lmao)
EDIT forgotten point: I've seen some speculation that the bently's plate reading "CURTAIN" could be a reference to poirot's last story, along side that alternate scene of crowley ordering the sherry for "miss marple", its just one too many agatha christie references for my melted brain to handle and I'm SUS
so this is where i run out of idea steam and hand it over to you lot because i have no clue what this could mean, if it even means anything other than a cool set feature
is there something here actually or am i yelling into the void just for fun?
who knows, who cares!
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magewritesstories · 21 days
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[ ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ ] ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ'ꜱ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʜɪᴛ ᴏɴ!
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summary; based on that one juju stroll where megumi's gicing a girl directions and yuji, nobara and gojo decide to be menaces (like always) tw; none, just some cute fluff note; thought this would be cute bc the juju stroll popped into my head today word count; 505 ('s a tiny blurb, but i might write a part ii) jujutsu kaisen masterlist // main masterlist
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YOU WATCH IN CONFUSION AS THE THREE STRANGERS FIGHT OVER YOUR MIDDLE-SCHOOL CLASSMATE.
You don't know how you ended up in this situation—just that you were out shopping with a few friends and saw one of your old classmates and thought that the polite thing to do would be to say hi.
(definitely didn't walk up to him because you had the biggest crush on him back in middle school, nooo definitely not that.)
You'd been standing in front of the fancy glass showcase of the local coffee shop, trying to pick between two flavours of fudge cake when you saw a familiar bob of spiky blue hair.
Just a few feet away from you stood Megumi Fushiguro—the ex-middle-school bad boy and also your first-ever crush. Typical? Maybe, but in your defence, you were a big YA romance fan back then.
He was absentmindedly scrolling through his phone as he waited for his order. Probably black coffee, you thought to yourself.
Now, you don't what on God's green earth possessed you when you walked up to him, but something did.
"Fushiguro?" You called out, taking a few steps towards him, "Megumi Fushiguro, right?"
The boy in question looked up in confusion, before pointing at himself.
And then you realised he probably didn't remember you.
"Uhm, I'm L/N Y/N," You continued as you came to a halt in front of him, "We went to the same middle school?"
His dark blue eyes widened in realisation—he's still as pretty as he used to be—and he nodded. "I remember, we were in the same chemistry class."
"Yeah, it's been a while," You reply with a smile, "I thought I'd say hi and—"
Before you can finish your sentence a boy around your age with spiky pink hair and indentical scars under his eyes throws his arms around Megumi, blubbering something through teary eyes.
Your ex-classmate manages to pry the pink-haired boy off of him, but before he can say anything a girl with auburn hair walks over to you three, shouting something.
And soon enough an older-looking man with white hair—who you recognize as Megumi's older brother (at least that's what everyone thought he was) because he'd been to your school once after one of Megumi's fights—was added to the mix.
Which is how you landed in this situation.
You watched the three strangers fight over Megumi, who buried his face in the collar of his clothes growing redder by the second. Whether it was out of embarrassment or anger you didn't know.
"Uhm..." You looked around before quickly grabbing a napkin and jotting down your number.
Again, what on God's green earth possessed you at that moment to give you that much confidence? No clue.
"Here, text me when you've sorted out—" You vaguely gestured towards the three fighting strangers—"That."
The blue-haired boy looks like he wants to say something but decides against it, pocketing the napkin instead whilst watching you walk away with one last wave over your shoulder.
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shrimz08 · 2 months
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AANG & OZAI PARALLELS: DEBUNKED
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Because apparently the true villain is the sole survivor of a genocide of his entire nation, and not the imperialist colonizer.
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Where do I even begin?? Because I’m genuinely holding in laughter writing this, it’s absolutely insane how certain people can make such egregious parallels that aren’t even found in the first place. 
AH, so a little backstory on how this fucking shit stained idea even came to existence, well our dear z^tara fans pissed their pants over Zuko and Katara not tying the knot, so, as a way of retribution for their supposed “honour” They take any chance to jump on the Aang hate train and make him into some irredeemable abusive demon, aaand they got that perfect opportunity because the LoK decided to take a lick out of the great “Main Characters Must Be Bad Parents In The Sequels” Trope. Which personally, does absolutely nothing to the protagonists resolution aside from cheap family drama but I digress. 
Now, I’m not behind the idea of the writers trying to make Aang a “flawed” Parent, I think it really makes no sense by how they went about it, (I might touch on this in another post) 
((And it’s so very clear that they’re trying to give it a soft “retcon” And even taking extra steps saying that Kya and Bumi just “remember wrong” Which I’ll actually take, because season two of LOK was hell on earth anyway so you might as well give it some saving grace.)) 
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There’s three main parallels that they got from Ozai and Aang: (god help me)
Favouring a child
isolating the rest
leaving pressure On the golden child
I’m going to debunk all three of them while trying not to fall into complete lunacy over how ridiculous they are. 
Favouring a child + Leaving pressure: 
OK, so people are clearly blind with context clues and media comprehension, got it. No surprise whatsoever. I can’t be disappointed if I didn’t even have any expectations to begin with. 
Let’s compare the treatment on how Ozai treats Azula, and how Aang treats Tenzin. (Holy Shit)
Beginning with Ozai, well.. It doesn’t take much of a rocket scientist to understand that Ozai essentially could not give two fucks about Azula, as she in essence, serves the role of an attack dog, as long as it does its job, it’s worthy. 
Ozai favoured Azula because she was molded to match his ferocity and hunger for power, she was a prodigy bender, and was cunning and calculated, all traits that Ozai found endearing and someone worthy to be crowned the next “fire lord.” His “favouring” Of her didn’t come out of genuine love or care, she is his tool who serves a purpose. In short, she showed more competency and more ruthlessness and callousness in comparison to Zuko. Which earned her, her place as the “Golden Child.”  
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None of this is even remotely similar to how Aang treated Tenzin and his kids, aside from the fact he supposedly “favoured” Tenzin more, but that is such a baseline statement and has absolutely no relation with Ozai's reasons.
You have to understand that an entire FUCKING NATION IS DEAD. History, Culture, Tradition, is at the BRINK of being wiped out, Tenzin is quite literally the only Airbender that will be left after Aangs passing. Why do people devalue this concept so much? 
“B-BUT THE AIR ACOLYTES1!!” Still have limited knowledge, airbending is so heavily tied to its spiritual roots, you LOSE your ability to AIRBEND, if you aren't inclined to your spiritual side. Which is a core part of the air nomad culture. Tenzin is... Literally the only god forsaken part left of that, so yeah. It’s a pretty big fucking deal. Aang values his culture and teachings to such a high degree, he is literally the survivor of a genocide. His favouring of Tenzin was done out of necessity and love, not out of a need for power and a new attack dog to send orders around. 
Tenzin will literally be the future “Director” Or guide for the next avatar to learn airbending, people still forget this, and it’s hilarious. He needs to know all the moves, all the teachings because he will be the next avatar's personal guide. 
Aang constantly reassures him, and apologizes for the pressure that may be put upon him but he always reaffirms that he’ll be there to guide him and they’ll “learn together”
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So yeah not the same thing at all. Fuck you for being so inept at understanding the different reasons and perspectives of those situations, just for some petty ship discourse, genuinely disgusting.
Isolating the children:
OK this part, I have to say that the writers definitely messed up with aangs characterization, but I think the execution came out way differently than the intention, so I will try to look more into the intention of each decision.
Ozai isolated Zuko, mistreated him, belittled him, PHYSICALLY ABUSED HIM, but yeah totally on par with Aang actually. 
I don’t wanna touch on this part much mainly because his treatment was literally explained all throughout the show, and granted, while I understand most of these people haven’t touched the show aside from reading fanfic 300000 Where Aang is revealed to us as satan himself, but perhaps, even a small peak at Ozai's parenting would reveal the laughable contrast between the two.
Zuko was a slow learner, and much more of a softie, and a “mama's boy” To Ozai’s heavy dislike, he was thus treated as such, he was belittled, turned down, and literally burnt alive for showing “weakness” He is meant to serve as a direct contrast to Azula, ”The everything he isn't.” 
Kya and Bumi on the other hand, don’t show any actual signs of trauma aside from some petty jabs they threw at Tenzin, 
Bumis talk with Aang at the statue was *very very* Clearly, meant to highlight his own inferiority complex that he internalized growing up. His need for proving himself to be capable of doing just as much if not more than a “bender” Probably happened because his two parents were both prodigy benders and him being a first born son who was a non-bender must’ve hit pretty hard for him, and I’m so sure that katara and Aang reassured how special he is but that kind of thing doesn’t really go away.
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Kya: [while healing Bumi] I told you those rocks were slippery. You're lucky you didn't kill yourself.
Bumi: You done with the lecture, mom?
Kya: Oh, grow up. You haven't changed one bit since we were kids. You're still trying to prove you can do everything a bender can. Well, you can't. Deal with it.
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 That talk with Aangs statue was very much meant to unveil an internal struggle rather than a conflict he had with his father. Kya even doubles down on this, telling him “of course he’d be proud of you” Basically spoon feeding to us, the viewers, that this is much more of internal than an external conflict that he has to overcome along the show. 
“Why Didn’t he share his culture with them 1!!1!” 
He most definitely did, or tried to, but it’s clear they didn’t show much interest so he didn’t pester, this is shown many times throughout the show. 
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“You know I could never keep all those gurus straight… There were like a million of them!
remember that long boring story about the guy who never ate?”
This is literally Kya’s remark to Tenzin just after he tried teaching the airbender students this story, basically telling us that Aang DID try to tell them about his stories and culture, but much to their disinterest, didn’t try any further. 
And Bumi, literally could not pay attention to the story to save his life, and instead decided to fool around in his literal 60’s!! I mean Imagine what he was like when he was a kid!! 
I could imagine their dynamic was very similar to Jinora with Meelo and Ikki, Tenzin being the only one with actual interest and care, whilst Bumi and Kya goofing off and not putting much focus onto it. WHICH IS FINE BTW!! 
It only goes to reiterate that Tenzin was the only one who was actually giving interest and attention to the air nomad culture, and it was of Kya and Bumi’s own personal choice to not partake in it. To each their own I see. 
“BUT WHAT ABOUT THE VACATIONS” 
This.. I agree, weird for the writers to decide this, but given how they low-key are retconning it in interviews, my best guess is that each of those trips were side-quests during their journey to teach an important lesson that might’ve just drowned out because Tenzin may not have remembered it as well. 
Also keep in mind that Tenzin was put into a lot of pressure, Aang probably saw this, and as a way to still keep it enjoyable, he took him to trips that would help ease the mind for a little kid whilst also learning something valuable. That seems pretty on brand for Aang actually
And given that Kya and Bumi are literally in their fucking 60’s it wouldn’t surprised me if they didn’t have the greatest memory. Hell, they didn’t even fault Aang as a parent until Tenzin started boasting about “trips” That Kya and Bumi gave petty jabs but weren’t actually showing genuine hurt, just annoyance.
Kya even comments how Aang was too busy “Trying to save the world, and doing his duty that he didn't have much time for them” 
Phrasing as if it wasn't anything "important" But it's clear that this was Kya's own personal irritation towards Tenzin rather than an actual evaluation on Aang's duties.
A continuation comic best explains it in a deeper way:
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Literally showing that “neglecting” His kids wasn't up to him, and was out of a sense of necessity, trying to cram as much knowledge onto Tenzin, the only one who was basically putting his lessons into practices. Kya and Bumi were left feeling neglected. But that wasn’t out of his decision; he still loved them dearly.
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This. Literally highlighting how much pressure was forced upon Aang, so yes, as any person would, he struggled with making time for everybody. Holy shit who knew?? 
GASP!! IS THAT… A REALISTIC BUT UNDERSTANDABLE FLAW!!?? HOW DARE YOU! ITS OZAI #2 
The fact that the smiley energetic person forgets to SMILE, is a big deal, man was put through hells amount of stress but he never cracked.
So tell me, how is a genocidal freak, who treats his golden child like a tool and abuses the other both physically and emotionally for showing “weakness’ 
Even remotely comparable to
 the sole survivor of a genocide, trying to withhold his teachings and culture onto literally his only child that showed actual effort in doing so, while also maintaining the balance of an entire fucking world and being literally the biggest “advisor” And “Mentor” For society, OH! And also building and managing a literal city, but along the way struggling to make time for his children. 
Guess what, they’re not. And if you think they are. You are an idiot, with bias and headcanons.
So the conclusion is, Aang is a flawed parent, but he isn't a "bad" Parent - confirmed by the literal writers.
Comparing him to Ozai a literal dictator, is absolutely sickening, just for your petty shipping discourse when this show's been over for a decade is insane. Indulge in what you enjoy, but stop projecting delusions like they're canon.
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:D
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universalmofo · 3 months
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okay i finished heroes of olympus a couple days ago and here are some of my thoughts :
-nico should’ve been a part of the seven. he was essential to the success of the quest in numerous capacities and one of the big three’s kids. it made NO sense to me that he wasn’t one of the seven. (on that note, i think it did make sense that thalia wasn’t one of the seven. she has been with the hunters for some time and she was presumed a tree for like a long time.)
-grover could’ve very very easily taken coach hedges part in hoo. grover was already out looking for percy, so if he was already looking for percy and if annabeth found out that a “clue” to where percy was, was at the wilderness school grover would’ve jumped at the opportunity to go and try and figure out what was going on at the school by acting as a student again. he would’ve been back at camp by the end of the lost hero and he would have, what, 6 (?) months to go spread a warning to the wilderness about gaia and get things in order before they took off on the argo ii. and he could’ve been trying to communicate with percy via empathy link the ENTIRE time he was doing other stuff.
-it was just lazy of rick to write out grover tbh. and even tyson who came all the way across the country for percy. only for them to have extremely limited amount of time spent together (which makes sense, but this would’ve been HUGE for percy).
-it has been stated over and over and over again that quests should only be taken on by three. this quest was the biggest task they had ever faced, with far too much at stake. therefore, the prophecy of the seven should’ve been a utter tragedy ( one could even say a modern greek tragedy ) where they all accepted that four of them would Not be finishing this quest alive. that they were all willing to give themselves up for the greater good.
which four should’ve lived, i think percy, nico, annabeth and leo. (this pickings are biased and based on the idea that nico should’ve been included in the seven prophecy, if nico is not included then frank or hazel could take his place, but also these choices are based on their importance to the quest and their strength/ability)
- there was no need for there to be so many couples in the group of seven. it caused a huge lack in my opinion of actual friendship development.
there was very little actual friendship development/ vibes even in the lost hero when piper and leo HAVE been friends for MONTHS??? also this continues to be an issue in the rest of the books where piper and jason literally leave leo out or there is a comment along the lines of “he knew to give them their space”.
rick constantly threw in comments about how hazel and piper had become closer, or piper and annabeth had become “best friends” while not actually showing that. same thing with the boys. the only example i can think of where there was some real development was that conversation leo and frank had when they were at the bottom of the ocean.
they never had moments of them all sitting and talking besides about strategy.
- and on THAT note piper and jason never should’ve started dating. it was forced. it just seemed like the thing they should do after hera forced these memories in pipers head. quite frankly, it was a huge missed opportunity for a storyline in which leo and piper had been dating and hera shoved jason in between those memories and leo piper and jason are all SUPER pissed about that, or a storyline about how jason and piper try to figure out if there’s something there the entirety of the lost hero but the reason it just doesn’t feel right to jason becomes more obvious to him as he slowly develops a crush on leo.
there were just a LOT more interesting ways to go about that trio and none of them happened which made that entire dynamic fall flat for me and i think a lot of people.
which makes sense why frank leo and hazel worked SO much better and were believably close and connected. (even if frank and hazel were mainly the audience being told they like one another and not shown)
-percy was slightly off throughout the books. i believe even rick admitted he had a hard time writing percy in these books since he hadn’t for a while.
-did we ever find out why leo and piper were totally fine out in the world even tho they were 15??? i don’t remember this being explained??
-i distinctly remember jason getting some memories back and remembering frank and hazel as his friends AND hazel or frank discussing jason as a friend in son but then in house of hades or maybe mark of athena or blood of olympus (i can’t remember), hazel thinks to herself that she was still not sure what to think of jason? like she couldn’t tell what was going on underneath the surface? as if they hadn’t been friends or ever met before the quest?
-nico and percy are friends at the end of the day. percy is on some level protective over nico and nico is connected to percy / cares about him even if he doesn’t have a crush on him. they have a very interesting dynamic but at the end of the day, if percy went missing for MONTHS, nico would’ve been looking for him. and he most definitely would’ve not just pretended to entirely not know him when he came to camp jupiter??? especially when percy asked if he knew nico. that was SO weird to me. i was expecting them to have a conversation, even if nico gave him very brief and vague info.
on that train of thought, percy WOULD NEVER doubt the idea of rescuing nico??? his fatal flaw is LOYALTY. no matter how pissed he was at nico he would never question if they should even save nico. even if NOT for nico, it was kinda established that percy felt like an older brother to hazel (even tho this dynamic was never again touched on or seen), which again, he is loyal to those he cares about so he would be willing to do it, if not for nico, then for sure for hazel.
-percy never says i love you or i love you back to annabeth until blood of olympus. which is CRAZY and sooo not percy in my opinion.
-why the hell were mark of athena and house of hades the hardest parts of the entire quest ??? fighting gaia should’ve taken up the the majority or better yet, the ENTIRETY of boo, similarly to the last olympian.
i think this came down to a poorly paced series. rick could’ve broken his formula in tlh and son and moved the stories along faster. have the annabeth reunion in son or make the books longer.
- leo and nico would’ve been an interesting dynamic and quite frankly, they could’ve been a very cute couple. both feel like they are always on the outskirts / like they don’t fit in, both have complicated and sad familial issues, both of their mothers died because of the gods in some regard, both have never had a stable home, both speak other languages, both don’t have any other family then their godly parents, both have constantly been running their whole lives and haven’t been able to make real connections and friends.
the fact that i could even come up with this many makes me even more mad cause my lord. what a missed opportunity.
-leo was the heart of the entire quest. he literally CARRIED for five books straight and he was paid DUST.
i hated his ending.
you’re telling me that he literally has spent a year, fighting alongside his friends, building a ship for them to be able to carry out this quest, living with them, caring about them, and then “sacrificing” himself and all that mattered to him was A GIRL??? his FIRST priority was calypso??? not even letting his friends know that he was ALIVE??
on that subject, why wouldn’t he tell them his entire plan? if he was gonna tell hazel and frank that he was going to die anyways?
-percy losing his heroes blessing or whatever it’s called?? 😐 it seems like rick just needed a reason to get rid of this? it honestly just made no sense.
- and last but very not least ( i can’t believe i almost forgot ) WHAT WAS RICK THINKING NOT HAVING PERCY OR ANNABETH’s POV’s in BOO????
i gotta be real y’all i did not know i had so many opinions/ issues with the books until i started doing this.
anyways, mark of athena and house of hades are by far the best books of this series and also the most gripping and well written. please remind me if i miss remembered something and am wrong.
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thebadboyfanclub · 1 year
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You Bled For Them, You Decide Pt.2 (Daemon x Reader)
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So a lot of people requested a part two of this and had some requests on what should it be about, the stakes were high so I hope I did not disappoint you. Enjoy!
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Part one
(Y/n) was not a fool, she was sure that the second she steps foot in Targaryen ground all eyes would be on her, the mystery woman that managed to tame the rogue prince. She despised that nickname, (y/n)s opinion was that her dear husband had simply leaned towards violence to make up for the pain he had felt, Daemon was a passionate man which meant he loved as deeply as he hated, she knew Daemon would burn the seven kingdoms to ensure that their family is safe, he was a man of honour.
“Do you truly believe a character like prince Daemon has settled?”
“It certainly looks like it, he hasn’t stepped away from her and the children for longer than a minute”
“The children… well at least with this union no one can question their true parentage”
Otto whispered the last part only for his daughter queen Alicent to hear. Everyone was at awe how none of the kids had inherited their mothers features except small details,(y/n) adored the fact that they looked like the father, she was unaware what a big role on their safety that played.
“I believe we must introduce ourselves, would be interesting”
Alicent suggested while her father hummed in agreement, in almost complete unison they began to walk towards the couple that was pre occupied with the king.
“Alicent and Otto, to what do we owe the pleasure?”
Daemon questioned ironically, (y/n)s eyebrow was raised in confusion as she looked up at him for clues about the sudden change on his demeanour.
“Prince Daemon, it’s been so long since we last saw you, you were newly widowed at the time”
“Widowed?”
(Y/n) never pressured Daemon to speak of his past, he revealed what he wished while he laid on her chest and let her to brush his silver hair with her fingers. Daemons eyes squinted at the smart remark Lord Otto had thrown at him, he was looking for a way to cause a problems in his marriage.
“Your lady wife seems oblivious to the fact that you were wed prior”
Alicent noticed, (y/n) tried to keep her composure and patiently wait until they are alone to question her husband. Daemon was ready for war, they were pushing the boundaries in order to get what they want, to destroy what he worked so hard for and he wasn’t going to stand for it.
“I was forced into a marriage for alliance that is correct, (y/n) is my first true match, I thank the Gods for sending her to me every morrow”
Daemon was being genuine, his lady wife had been a miracle, the Gods took pity on him and showed him what it is like to have a reason to come back from battle alive. Daemon took his (y/n)s hand in his to place a kiss on her knuckles, (y/n) smiled even though her mind had stored the new information for another time, it wouldn’t be wise to pick a fight while attending a funeral.
“Such tender words, I am glad you have left your infatuation with princess Rhaenyra behind you”
The sentence that was spoken from the Queens lips made (y/n)s blood ran cold, the woman that she had just been introduced to had an affair with Daemon? It could not be, she was a married woman, the daughter of his own brother, “no that wouldn’t stop him, he is a Targaryen” she thought as her hands started to shake from anger. Thankfully her eldest daughter cut the conversation short before push came to shove and (y/n) showed her temper, the girl was panting while her cheeks were severely blushed from running around, she hadn’t been this blissful in weeks.
“Mother, can me and Aemond go play in the shore?”
“Aemond?!”
Daemon exclaimed, earning a side eye from everyone, if he had it his way his children would never play along side Alicents children, maybe little Heleana would be an exception but that would be it, especially when it came to his precious daughters he hated when they would be boys around them, even worst if they were hightowers.
(Y/n) did not spare a look at her lord husband, she simply tucked away a few strands of hair that seemed to stick on the young girls sweaty forehead and smiled lovingly, Alyssa was in much need of a companion, she loved her siblings but she would always have to take care of them.
“Of course my little deer, better yet I’ll come with you. I would love to meet your new friend Aemond”
-
(Y/n) had managed to discreetly slip away from everyone, she found joy at watching her daughter play carelessly with her new friend, the timid Aemond that barely raised his gaze to (y/n) when introduced, still he ran with Alyssa around the shore as they had both taken their shoes off and splashed in the water.
(y/n) could stay like this together, away from everyone with her family while they enjoyed the simple things life had to offer, it’s what her and Daemon had in common, although she could identify that Daemon had missed his brother, perhaps he missed princess Rhaenyra as well.
“Come along sweetlings, it’s getting dark”
“Mother please just a few more minutes”
“Fine, I will make sure your siblings are sleeping and then I will come back to escort you”
“Thank you lady (y/n)”
Aemond replied with the utmost respect. (Y/n) simply smiled as she turned her back on the children, with the assistance of a kind knight she was guided to the room (y/n), Daemon and little Johanna would occupy for the night, she had already peeked inside the other rooms for her children to find the sleeping peacefully.
To her misfortune she never had great memory when it came to directions, getting lost by turning left instead of right or was it right instead of left? She cursed under her breath for not looking around for clues when she had the chance.
“I need you uncle, I cannot fight them alone”
“You know I would support you if war occurred Rhaenyra”
The voices that reached her ears made her come to a halt, her back found the cold wall to rest so she can listen to her husbands conversation with the princess, she had put on such a brave fight to forget what was said about their affair before (y/n) came to his life, excusing it as a spur of a moment and feelings long forgotten, now there she was hiding in the dark to catch them whispering.
“I do not need you as a soldier Daemon, i want us to bind our blood”
“Rhaenyra”
“Do you love her?”
Tears welled up in (y/n)s eyes, this could not be. He brought to his homeland just to embarrass her? To parade his children and leave (y/n) in the dust? Did she marry such a cruel man? She felt like her heart was going to come out her throat at the sound of those words.
“More than life itself”
“So my love for you meant nothing?”
“You were a child Rhaenyra, we both made mistakes”
“You did not love me?”
“Of course I did”
“My love?”
(Y/n) came out of her hiding spot, she wasn’t going to let the princess sway her husbands words, Daemon had declared his love and the princess did not want to give up, she was toying with (y/n)s wedlock like the life of her and her children including the pain this will cause meant nothing.
Daemon focused on his wife, smiling at the sight of her, Rhaenyra turned to face her as well, Daemon could see that (y/n) heard everything, he identified the fire of fury in her eyes, she appeared with reason.
“Where are the children my dear?”
“Alyssa is playing with Aemond, I will go to collect them now but I have seem to get lost within the castle”
“I shall escort you then, excuse me princess Rhaenyra”
Daemon took (y/n)s hand in his as they left Rhaenyra in shambles, he left her for (y/n), his morals did not buckle at the slightest, not even for Rhaenyra.
As they turned the corner (y/n) took off her polite mask, her hand gripped on to his as she held him back from walking even further, Daemon felt his heart skip a beat at the fact that (y/n) was clearly upset. He did not prepare her correctly for this visit, he should have known that the greens would try to tear them apart.
“A wife? An affair? With your own niece at that”
“All before I met you my love”
“That’s not my point, I looked like a fool in front of everyone. Here I am, your wife that did knew nothing of these acts of yours, we are a union and we appeared weak against the hawks eye”
Daemon had guessed she would be frustrated about the acts, he couldn’t be more wrong. (Y/n) had heard of tales about her husband, his thirst over women, she only cared about how she appeared like their union was fickle, that they were secrets between them.
Daemon let out a breath before he took (y/n) for a hug, she did not respond immediately but gave in to wrapping her arms around him after a moment.
“I apologise my love, I will fix it”
“You better or you will have to start looking for a third wife”
Haste heavy steps pulled them apart from one another, curiosity taking over them as they waited for the person to appear. A knight stood before them, clearly stressed, (y/n)s heart clenched tight.
“The kids”
“Your children are alright however you must follow me”
The couple ran to wherever the knight guided them, (y/n) was the first to burst in the room, Alyssa stood next to her friend Aemond who was getting stitched up in the eye. (Y/n) skipped over to her and instantly started looking for wounds, Daemon took in the room as everyone gathered, Baela and Rhaena crying in their grandmothers arms and Lucerys had a nose bleed as he was also crying.
“I am unharmed mother”
“What happened? I told you to be careful with Aemond”
“It wasn’t my fault, Aemond claimed a dragon so we went for a flight when we got ambushed by the others that claimed Vhagar was meant for Rhaena and I… mother I swear I tried to defend Aemond, it was four against two”
“It’s alright my dear, you did your best”
Alyssa spoke honestly, Jacaerys had restrained her when the others attacked Aemond, everything happened so fast she did not have time to process what to do, she did everything she could to defend Aemond, now he had lost his eye.
(Y/n) hugged her daughter tightly, thanking the Gods for sparing her daughter from harm. Everyone was occupied with blaming one another to notice (y/n) wince from pain, her labour had started, she had been through this multiple times she had knowledge of the pains starting early, it was not the time to focus on that as of yet.
“It was my sons that were attacked and forced to defend themselves, vile accusations were spoke from prince Aemond”
“No he did not”
“Alyssa”
“No mother they attacked him”
“He held a rock”
“After you started beating him and then you took a knife out you meant to kill him”
Alyssa was furious, she had seen everything and was appalled by such hostile behaviour especially within family members. Alyssa had grown into an environment that love and respect was shown to everyone, to be met with such hatred was a new found grown for the young girl, Daemon smirked at her daughter fighting against princess Rhaenyra and cutting her off before she could finish, Alyssa had a backbone stronger than any child her age.
“My king this is the highest of treachery and since the girl wants to take prince Aemonds side I ask both of them to be questioned for their treason”
“my child nor any will be questioned like they are criminals, I would have hoped for a woman of such high rank to have some respect for a child that has been permanently scarred from your own kin”
“Are you accusing me of something lady (y/n)?”
“I am defending what’s right which is what my daughter did as well, you are protecting your own and so will I”
“Enough!”
The king intervened. Daemon tried to bring (y/n) back from her anger by placing a hand on her shoulder, truly he did not want to do it still he worried over how heavily pregnant wife, she should not feel any type of uneasiness at such delicate state.
He was certain (y/n) could stand her ground and defend their family better than anyone, a side of him relished it when (y/n) pushed back at others and protected their children, her fire and quick tongue was his favourite things about her.
“Lady (y/n) is right, princess Alyssa has done nothing wrong”
“She stood against the heir”
“She defended her friend, titles don’t mean shit to our family pri- ow”
She could not hold back any longer, she felt liquid ran against her leg as the pain similar to knife cutting her belly made her lose her cool. Daemon was quick on his feet as (y/n) put her hands on her knees to hold herself up against the pain, daemon wrapped his hands around his wife to help her up, worry written all over his face.
“What is it my love?”
“My labours started”
“Maester-“
“No maesters, take me to my room now”
She interrupted the queen, everyone stood still not knowing what to do next. Alyssa stood next to her mother so she can rub her belly to soothe the pain, she had been present at the birth of her siblings for as long as she remembered, it was almost muscle memory now.
“Lady (y/n) I promise you i am very experienced with delivering babes for the royal-”
“Oh Fuck off will you? I said no fucking maesters, Daemon please hurry or I will push this babe out for your entire family to see”
“As you wish my love”
In one swift motion Daemon swooped (y/n) from her feet to rush her to the privacy of their own room, Alyssa followed quickly with queen Alicent, the Maester and princess Rhaenyra hot on their trail, as they were all amazed by (y/n)s resilience they wanted to witness the woman giving birth on her own, as (y/n) breathed heavy she leaned her head on her husbands shoulder.
“This is going to be a quick one”
(Y/n) could time her pains growing stronger at such short period of time, her babe was rushing to come out to the point (y/n) did not think she would make it to her room.
Fortunately she was wrong, as Daemon kicked the door open to quickly lay (y/n) in the bed Alyssa sat behind her mother to help her sit up while the mothers back laid against her daughters chest. Alyssa admired her mothers strength more than anything, she viewed (y/n) as the strongest person alive and loved that she was allowed to be included to the birth of her siblings, secretly scheming to follow the tradition of a private birth.
“Everyone out”
“The maester should stay in case of any assistance-“
“Daemon I can feel the head”
(Y/n) screamed from the pain, roaring her babe out that did not wait for anyone or anything. The family quickly forgot the presence of outsiders as they supported (y/n) for her birth, (y/n) held her daughter with one hand as Daemon lifted his wives dress to help her with any way he can.
“Almost there (y/n), give it one strong push and you will hold our babe in your arms”
He encouraged her while Alyssa stroked her mothers hair with her free hand. The trio that stood a few meters away were like statues, the queen was deeply moved by the love that lingered in the room and Alicent clenched the charm of the seven that hang from her neck, her children’s birth so strongly connected with the people in the room, the family had a bond that was rare in this world.
Soon enough cries of the babe echoed in the room as everyone in unison let out a breath of relief, (y/n)s lips curved to a triumph smiled as she saw her babe for the first time, Alyssa kissed her mothers forehead as encouragement for a job well done, amazed at the view of another sibling brought to life.
“Praise the mother”
Alicent spoke as she was the first to approach (y/n) who stretched her arms to hold the baby, tears appeared on everyone’s cheeks except the maesters and the only thing you could hear was the cries of a newborn babe, what a magical sound that was to a mothers ears.
“A princess is born to driftmark, Maester let everyone know (y/n) delivered her babe”
Rhaenyra instructed, she internally admitted defeat since there was nothing she could do anymore, watching Daemon so involved in the birth and cry tears of joy as he held the bloody babe in his arms was enough proof of there romance having no chance of reconciliation. Daemon sat next to (y/n)s bed as he observed his wife holding their babe in her arms and their eldest holding her mother in her arms with her eyes full of love.
“Well done my moon, what a gift you blessed me with, another beautiful and heathy daughter”
“Welcome to our family Maegora”
(Y/n) whispered as she held her baby, Alyssa gasped at the choice of the name, Alyssa had suggested it a while back and her father had laughed at the choice and the fear it would install to everyone’s hearts.
Daemon was actually fond of the name, still he had a habit of teasing his children so he just leaned to kiss (y/n)s lips, she was so beautiful after she delivered their children, a glow unlike any other as the light of candles was the only source of light, his devotion to her was as deep as any religious person, his heart only beat because hers did.
“You are radiating my love”
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