#girl punk novel

[vampire-himbos-of-santa-perdita]

The girl punk novel hit her ideal word count!!!!

She was originally nearly 150,000 words. Everybody clap now that she’s an acceptable querying length!

#fuck i've been chipping away at this for weeks #writer problems #girl punk novel #Heaven's Tiny Daggers #am writing #am editing #sophie writes

[yellow-yarrow]

I have a friend whose taste in books is very different from mine (she reads ya romance novels, I read like, skandinavian contemporary novels and philosophy) and it's very nice of her to gift me books( she gave me a copy of a book she accidentally ordered twice as an early Christmas present) but how am I supposed to actually read this 400 page romance about japanese men, that has "boys love" written on the cover, and was written by a hungarian woman & it has sentences like "thank you nee-chan!* *Nee chan means sister in Japanese". It starts with a sex scene that gets interrupted. I feel like I'm reading fanfiction(the bad kind) (not because of the sex) (because of the writing style)

On the other hand I'm surprised by how fast I'm reading this. The writing style is simple and very predictable. I almost forgot what it feels like to read something where I don't have to think

#ough #last time she got me the novel based on the Prom Broadway musical #eugh american teenagers and homophobia #i only got like halfway through #its just not my taste at all...... #even in fanfictions i dont like to read about these type of characters #she was showing me a book summary that was about a girl falling in love with a punk girl #but it was written by the person who wrote that red royal blue or whatever the fuck that book is called #i don't want a neoliberal take on lesbian punks #to be fair she occasionally bought me books on art

[thepatchedvest]

#grunge #90s #burnout girl #daria #analog #punk #mtv #aesthetic #riot grrrl #alternative #fanart #art #femcelcore #cigarettes #leather jacket #rain #vhs aesthetic #distortion #fan game #visual novel #concept art #burn the rain

[magpiecomix]

this is a track from life yo! A F***ING TRACK FROM LIFE KIDS!

#comics #comic #zine #riot girl #bande dessinee #graphic novel #digital art #punk #riot grrrl

[punk-rocking-rose]

one day i need to bring together all the things i love to make my ideal book

• cute girls

• punk music

• fish

• video games?

#im writing a punk novel now #and have plenty of cute girls in my stories #but the fish thing has been hard #ive had ideas but nothing serious

[thevelvetbacchusmusic]

vi veri universum vivus vici - by the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe.

#vforvendetta

#v for vendetta #the velvet bacchus #love #art #tattoo #tattoo girls #graphic novel #alan moore #punk #alternative #freedom #hope #tomorrow #motivation #style #platform boots

[jeffrey-matucha-author]

The first appearance of my Giant Devil Girl character Miranda, who is getting her own story this October!

A woman made up of tattoos, scars, rage, and far too much world experience.

#Novel #Excerpt #Punk #Rock and Roll #Devil Girl

[j4gm]

SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 1: FIONNA CAMPBELL

Here's a bunch of stuff I spotted. Feel free to add more.

During the anime girl hero dream Fionna mentions Hans Brinker, a character from a novel which introduced speed skating to the United States.

The BMO style alarm clock has BMO's voice.

The ducks that steal Marshall Lee's money look like one-headed versions of the two-headed duck from the original Adventure Time title sequence.

Cheers is a real sitcom. Simon previously sang its theme song in the episode Simon & Marcy, and now it seems to have manifested in the human AU due to his connection with it.

Fionna says "stop acting crazy" to Cake with the same meter as Marceline said "stop acting crazy" to Ice King in the episode I Remember You.

We all spotted this in the trailer but there's a Magic Man hat in this shot. Magic Man's hat was most recently seen being worn by Betty.

The Betty statue also suggests that Simon's psyche has significant influence over this world. The fountain includes frogs, a symbol of change that was previously also used in Temple of Mars. And Fionna mentions the statue underwent renovation twelve years ago, which is the same amount of time that's passed in the prime universe since Betty's amalgamation with GOLB.

It would seem Mrs. Abadeer runs a vacuum cleaner company as well as being Fionna's landlady. And Queenie runs an accounting business as well as the tour bus.

The stickers on Marshall Lee's guitar case are all references to real life punk rock bands. X-Ray Pex = X-Ray Spex, Daikini Kill = Bikini Kill, PM might be a reference to AM as in the Arctic Monkeys. I'm not sure what Las Crudas and Dark Eyes are references to. Perhaps someone more familiar with punk rock can let me know?

In case you were wondering, the credits confirm that this is human genderswapped Fern. It's a bit more obvious now that we can see all her green clothes and backpack, and given what she said about her dreams being super messed up. I'm not gonna go through the rest of the cameo characters in this episode because most of them are pretty obvious or already got figured out when the trailer dropped. That said, if anyone knows who the bus driver is meant to be please let me know.

The sword in the window of this games shop looks very similar to Fionna's sword from the original comic series.

The latte that Gumball - ahem I mean Gary - makes in this scene features PB's swan.

Okay one more cameo mention because I feel like it might become significant later. This is Ice Queen.

Fionna and Cake are dreaming about their apartment block in the credits of this episode, but it has a roof like the Tree Fort and the same little boat with a telescope and parasol.

Episode 2 to follow!

#adventure time #fionna and cake #easter egg posts

[no-psi-nan]

How Saiki wants to be perceived:

Not at all. He's just generic mob character #7536, thanks.

How Saiki's friends perceive him at first:

Projection Central... Depending on the person, he's a scaredy-cat, romance novel protagonist, former punk, flustered fanboy, a slacker who just needs some inspiration to become a sports star, etc...

How Saiki's friends perceive him at the end of the series:

Quiet, a little glum, kinda boring, but a good guy. Says "good grief" a lot.

How the Psychickers perceive him:

Sarcastic, stubborn, tsundere, a little childish, back-talker supreme, confident, a bit arrogant even, incredibly intelligent, lonely, silly, uptight, a soft touch, kind.

How Saiki ACTUALLY IS:

Sarcastic, stubborn, tsundere, a little childish, back-talker supreme, confident, a bit arrogant even, incredibly intelligent, lonely, silly, uptight, a soft touch, kind.

-> Only the Psychickers (and to some extent, his family) know and appreciate Saiki for who he actually is by the end of the series.

That's because Saiki is only ever comfortable revealing his true personality once the other person knows about his powers.

Until then, he will always try pretending to be a passive nobody, unless he thinks it can get a girl off his back (ex. against Teruhashi at the arcade, against Imu in the locker room).

Saiki remains nervous about telling his friends about his powers despite seeing it go off without a hitch in the alternate universe, and despite losing his powers first, because his friends might not like his "new"/actual personality.

We see early on in Kuboyasu's introduction that Saiki fears his relationships with his friends are fake because they're based on a huge lie and an even bigger pretense. We see that anxiety about his personality/persona not being palatable enough at the wrong-day birthday party. We see him mourn the fact that he can't be his real self at the mixer.

THAT is the great tragedy of Saiki K, that almost none of the people he loves actually know him in any meaningful way, not even by the end of the series!

#the freaking HAMSTER knows more about Saiki's personality than most of his friends. doesn't that make you want to eat drywall?? #nopsi meta #saiki k #saiki no psi nan #sknpn #the disastrous life of saiki k. #tdlosk #Saiki Kusuo

[rentumblsstuff]

Random Hatchetfield Headcanons

The first time Alice Woodward ever smoked weed was when (after much inner turmoil) she asked Deb to shotgun it with her.

Max has two snaggletoothed incisors which is why people swear to god he has fangs.

Deb also has a snaggletooth which is what inspired the vampire part of Alice’s vampiric sapphic play. Alice also thinks it’s ironic she made a vampire character when Deb is a vegan.

Ruth as a Sophmore hit on Senior Alice a lot. Alice thought it was funny and she and Deb “adopted” her. Max and Steph also put the PANIC in bi panic for Ruth.

Max would find it weirdly hot that Grace wears bathing suits under her clothes because of the idea that he gets to see what her body looks like before even she does.

The hospital is downtown, so Becky Barnes definitely got infected in TGWDLM. Despite never wanting to do it again, Becky climbs the tree as someone calls the HFPD to save Kathy’s cat because she’s still infinitely compassionate even under Pokey’s control. Plus, Pokey knows she wants to get over the trauma associated with climbing trees, so he makes her do it to give her a big number about finally overcoming her past. She accidentally flings the cat as soon as the song starts, which is why in Show Me Your Hands, the cat dies so quickly even though it JUST got called in.

Peter infected Steph who infected Deb who infected Alice in TGWDLM. Pete and Steph would have been Sophomores and Deb and Alice were Seniors, but I always imagine Steph and Deb knowing eachother because MRFC said Steph is in the Smoke Club on Twitter at some point. Assuming Steph’s been a little punk for a while, she’s been in the smoke club since at least Sophomore year, and probably a new inductee the same year as TGWDLM (2018).

Alice and one of her parents (maybe Bill) were also raised in purity culture because we know the Woodwards and the Chastitys go to the same church. The Woodwards probably take it with a grain of salt though (Alice has expressed dislike over Grace’s prudishness)- either that or one of her parents (probably her mom) wasn’t originally from said church and also raised Alice with “this is what you’re learning here, but here’s also what I learned at my church at your age.” Bill was likely the one raised in purity culture because he does NOT LIKE DEB and thinks that if she HAS TO date a girl, she should date someone like Grace Chastity, implying she’s an exemplary teen girl. Ms. Woodward lets Deb sleep over and probably knows she smokes and likes her anyways; three points for Alice’s mom not being the puritanical one.

Ted reads romance novels. He’s a former geek turned sleazeball- you know he reads the smuttiest novels ever and calls them “his research”. He refuses to read any book with the friends to lovers trope because it’s too upsetting to think about. (Side note Time Bastard gave us a definite date that timelines don’t branch/reset before depending on whichever theory you believe because the homeless man is in every timeline, meaning that Jenny’s death is fixed in time and never changes: October 7th 2004, so the timelines change anywhere between October 8th 2004 and 2018.)

In whatever timeline Emma finally gets to have her weed farm, she meets Paul when he tells her he was prescribed that marajamij for his anxiety and he was too scared to try Xanax. She thinks he’s kind of cute for a wet cat of a corporate slave. “Fuck the patriarchy? Yes please.” (Side note Paul seems so uptight and unfuckable like bro gotta be blank down there like a Ken doll and has no discernible kinks from what I remember while Emma is laid back and chill asf and like… normal in comparison so yeah sure Paulkins canonically fucks but does Emma enjoy it?? Like dude even Pete’s more fuckable than him come on.)

Pete and Steph don’t kiss when they admit their feelings for eachother even though one of them would die before ever getting to kiss each other because they both think it’ll only make it that much harder to go through with sacrificing the other. One of the reasons Pete also chooses to be the one to take the bullet because he doesn’t think he even COULD pull the trigger on her. Like it’d be physically impossible for him, in his mind.

TGWDLM was originally meant to be an allegory for the institution brainwashing us. Show Me Your Hands and America’s Great Again: examples of people in power working for and fulfilling the evil wishes of some almighty, otherworldly, inhuman THING (be it aliens, be it those in power). It’s clearly meant to satirize the way that power corrupts and tries to convince you its way is better. Even Hidgens, THE FUCKING TEACHER, tries to teach his student that it will be better for everyone to join in that corruption and give in to the hive mind. This reminds me of how the school system in America tries to paint our history as something glamorous; manifest destiny instead of genocide of the indigenous populations. The people in power convincing those under them that the deaths of countless lives is a good thing and it will pave the way to a better future. Cool motive, still murder. Which is why Emma “Fuck the Patriarchy” Perkins is the last one to be infected. She was incapable of being brainwashed , and even when she was the last one left, she saw that the people watching didn’t care, and the all-consuming threat of corrupted power closes in on her until the very last moment.

The Lords in Black were going to try to convince whoever sacrificed their most treasured something to do more work for them, but Grace required very little convincing. Like Wiggly spoke into her mind like “Gracy-Wace! You forgot my booky-wook! Look in it, see any thing you like? Wanna kill all the pervy-wervys?” And she’s like “holy cow I can kill all the pervy-wervys with this book?” Pete would have needed the most convincing because he’s just lost the only girl who will ever love him (in his mind) and so he’d think these things took away his one chance at true love and NEVER want to deal with them again. Even if they offered him a way to get her back, he’s too smart to know that won’t come without an even bigger price AND too paranoid to think she won’t come back wrong like Max did.

If the Green-Foster family ever did get to move to California and Lex got to be an actress, her interview attitude would be a lot like Reneé Rapp and if she ever got asked about why she’ll openly shit talk people in an interview, she’s like “I used to work retail I learned pretty fast that nothing gets done if you keep your mouth shut.”

#starkid #hatchetfield #tgwdlm #black friday musical #nightmare time #npmd #alice woodward #max jagerman #grace chasity #bill woodward #stephanie lauter #peter spankoffski #ted spankoffski #paulkins #paul matthews #emma perkins #lautski #ruth fleming #becky barnes #lex foster #jenny starkid #lords in black #wiggog y'wrath

[vampire-himbos-of-santa-perdita]

The Hell Witch’s WIPs (2023)

Heaven’s Tiny Daggers- After watching her teen idol die onstage in a freak accident, Finn Begby starts a girl punk band to cope with her grief. As her band, Heaven’s Tiny Daggers rises to fame, they gain the attention of folk rock legend, Helene Saturnine, who invites them to a retreat at her mansion in New Orleans to work on their next album. Joined by fellow up and comers in the emo rock scene, Heaven’s Tiny Daggers discover that they have been lured to La Bellemort Mansion for more than just their artistic potential. Helene intends to use them in a ritual sacrifice to raise her long lost lover from the dead. But in doing so, La Bellemort’s residents unleash far more dangerous demons who feed off their every nightmare...

MCR meets Haunting of Hill House meets Daisy Jones and the Six meets Gideon the Ninth

Status: QUERYING!

~

The Vampires of Santa Perdita- Marnie Marsette is a lone wolf vigilante who protects the streets of her small southern California town, Santa Perdita by night. When she finds herself first on the scene of a murder on the set of popular teen drama, Lula Slays the World, Marnie is certain Lula’s hedonistic leading man, Ollie van Statten and his entourage are the culprits. Trailing them from party to party, she finds Ollie and his best friend, Casey Booker (from rival teen sleuth show, Jupiter June) really do seem solely interested in having a good time. That doesn’t stop her from uncovering their far more surprising secret: they’re vampires, and possibly the dumbest vampires in existence at that. While Marnie tries to solve the mystery of who keeps killing young blonde girls in her hometown, she has to face a hard truth about herself: does she really want to find the killer, or is she just desperate to make friends?

Bill & Ted meets The Lost Boys meets Heathers meets Scream

Status: First bare bones draft written

~

Haunt Your Murderers- Millie Marsette has a penchant for taking young protegees under her wing. Melusine Cutpurse was her first, a drag queen whom she trained up to become kingpin to London’s underworld of thieves. Her second is Andrina Calder, an aerialist plucked from her family’s traveling circus to inherit the legendary title of Steamboat Annie, a fearsome pirate who has been the subject of tall tales for a century. When a mad doctor begins luring prostitutes off the streets and paying body-snatchers to dig up fresh bodies for his experiments, Millie brings Andrina and Melusine together in a scheme to bring his plans to an end. But his bodies have started to reanimate, posing a far greater problem not just for Millie’s protegees, but for Victorian London at large...

Frankenstein meets Pirates of the Caribbean meets Rocky Horror meets Fingersmith

Status: First draft written

~

Bloody Nights & Green-lit Days- Young Hollywood hopeful, Lena Harlow was killed in a hit and run the night she arrived in LA. Her assailants, Jory and Cecily bring her body back to their sprawling mansion. When she wakes up, she’s no longer human. The magnetic couple help her adapt to her new life as a vampire, in amongst their raucous parties they use as their personal hunting grounds. While Lena explores the grounds of her new home, she meets Jory and Cecily’s son, August, who is the only person who can see the mansion’s many ghosts. Lena’s about to become the second. Coddled inside the mansion, August is never allowed to leave, until Lena sneaks him out to show him the outside world. Meanwhile, his parents spent their days on Hollywood back-lots, frustrated by the lack of support for the folks behind the scenes. Tired of inaction, Cecily and Jory, combine their creative talents of costume and set design to take matters into their own hands. Rumours of a curse on the production studio take a life of their own as freak accidents keep happening on various movie sets... It won’t be long before Lena gets sucked into Jory and Cecily’s nefarious schemes and she has to choose whether to use her new powers for good or evil...

Great Gatsby meets American Horror Story: Hotel

Status: TBA

#am writing #sophie writes #WIPs #writeblr #girl punk novel #vampire himbo novel #Victorian crime novel #vampire Gatsby novel

[fluoresensitive]

FLUORESENSITIVE TAGS' LIST, JANUARY 2024

sound and color: afro/slash hood futurism; missy elliot and sun-ra, janelle monae's archandroid and alice coltrane

i saw things i imagined: surrealism, color and texture, fantasy worlds

i am king: knights and quests, arthurian legends, joan of arc and brienne of tarth

the turning wheel: images n quotes that remind me of an ursula k le guin novel, images and quotes that remind me of spellling

dark and hungry roots: fae + goblins + creatures, they're in the woods and they want your name

she screams!: catch all horror tag, blood and guts and slashers

laughing before god does: a more specific gore and fleshy gross horror tag, inspired by cao hui

kate bush's wuthering heights: love so intense and passionate it extends beyond the grave; i hated him, i never loved him more; you want them dead, you want them beside you, you know,

one of those crazy girls: mad and bad women, women with murderous intent, final girls, whatever didn't kill her had better start running

ain't no grave: ghosts + hauntings + the absence of something is still a sort of presence

desperado: the yeehaw agenda, cowboys

age of pleasure: sensuality + black joy and pleasure

les fleurs: black girl cottagecore, flowers and frilly dresses, sunshine on brown skin

does the poison drip through?: family dynamics, siblings + parents + ancestral rot, you need a shovel to bury your brother, does your mother love you all the time

i who bend the tall grasses: angels and demons, religious ecstasy, a god who devours

fear not!: angels and saints, gabriel comes to you with a thousand eyes and a message

my skin my logo: black skin, brown skin, brown leather, black braids, black days! these are black owned things! black faith (can't be washed away, not even in that florida water!)

the black gothic: the hood, the church, and the holy grandmother's house. daughters of the dust and eve's bayou and the work of toni morrison, deana lawson and gordon parks

pure/honey: it's giving cunt, it's giving sex, it's giving ballroom and pearls, sequins and rhinestones, eleganza!

oh bondage up yours!: black punk + leather and studs

i been on: (tell me who gon take me off!) ostentatious displays of wealth, logomania + dapper dan, gold ass watch, gold ass rangs

not yet lost all our graces: succesion-core, old money, lace-edged socks and penny loafers, your daddy's rich and your ma's good-looking

this house is empty now: haunted houses + haunted places + empty houses

what the water gave me: mermaids, sirens, and things under the sea

put me back in it: tender, love and passion + sensuality + you're in love and you're gonna shout it from the roofs

geyser by mitski: longing, needing, yearning so hard it hurts your stomach and makes you ill

secret life of plants: nature tag!

commes de garcons: fashion tag, looks, i know that's not the french way to spell it.

the more general tags like 'on writing' and 'on horror' are pretty intuitive, but just in case.

on horror / on writing / on literature / on womanism / on blackness on sundays, she picked flowers / my writing /my mewdboards / my mixtapes / my collages / recs

#🦢 #tags' list #save; reference

[moonstruckme]

So, I know you don't commonly really write for steddie, and you don't have to write this if you don't wanna. But what about Like, reader graduates hawkins high and goes of to college (eddie is probably still held back for his last year???) And when she left she was more on the quite side, soft color pallet, kinda stariotypical pastel sunshine character. And she comes back for the summer and she's like, more punk-ish??? Like a few more piercings, and same kinda quite personality but kinda different aesthetic?

I think you could do something similar with poly!marauders as well, where same thing happens but it's over the summer between years?

Idk, you dont even have to write it, I just have a stupid soft spot for this weird trope/character arc. Make sure to take care of yourself and have a lovely day!!!!!

I'm happy to write for any characters on my list, thanks for requesting gorgeous! Hope you're having a lovely day and taking care of yourself as well <3

Steddie x fem!reader ♡ 637 words

Steve and Eddie are scanning the crowd for you up until the very moment you come up to them. Even then, it takes Eddie a second to recognize you. 

“Hey,” you say, tentative. 

“Hey,” Steve says, stepping forward. “Shit, honey, come here.” 

You grin, some of the apprehension easing from your features as you hug him. 

“Shit,” Eddie agrees, wrapping his arms around the both of you. “Almost didn’t recognize you, sunshine.” 

Sunshine might not even be the best nickname for you now. When you’d left for college last fall, you’d looked like the rainbow had befriended you personally. All pastels, colorful sweaters and flowy little skirts. Now, it’s like you’ve been plucked from a graphic novel. Your clothes are dark down to the shoes, with ripped black tights under your shorts and lace-up combat boots that, frankly, Eddie thinks might get a little hot in the Indiana summer. He wonders if you’d be amenable to him calling you his little bat. Or witchling, maybe? He’ll have to workshop it. 

“You look so different.” Steve sounds positively flabbergasted, stepping back to take you in more fully. “I mean, not a bad different, I just—wow, it’s really…” Eddie snickers. In his opinion, you look far less like someone Steve Harrington would ordinarily date (the girl next door, preppy style, Nancy Wheeler clone) and more like someone he would (cool as fuck). Luckily for you, they both love you down to your ooey gooey core no matter how you present yourself. 

“It’s a new look, babe, and it’s fucking sick,” Eddie summarizes. “Is this what college does to people? Maybe I should come visit.” 

You roll your eyes at him, flushing faintly. Another pro of your new style: the pink of your face stands out ever-so-much-more brilliantly against your new dark palate. 

“I’m serious, sweetheart,” Eddie goes on, delighting in watching your color change. “I need you to start coming to my shows so we can lure in your crowd. You’re too fucking cool for us now.” 

Your shoulders start to come up around your ears, but Steve saves you, tucking you under his arm with a kiss to the top of your head. “She was always too cool for us,” he says. It’s the truth, and Eddie sends you a wink to make sure you know he knows it. “You look amazing, really. God, we’ve missed you so—is that a tattoo?”

Eddie all but lunges for you. “Where?” 

“Here,” Steve says, stretching the collar of your shirt over your shoulder, where an inky design sits starkly against your skin. “Shit, this is so cool.” Eddie jostles for space, head squishing between yours and Steve’s to get a better look. “It really works for you.” 

You smile bashfully. “Thanks.” 

“Fuck me,” Eddie breathes, and you shiver pleasantly as his breath his your shoulder. “Actually, if I can get us to Steve’s in five minutes, would you top me right now? This is too fucking hot—oh, don’t look at me like that, Stevie boy. You know you like it too.” 

“I do,” Steve says, giving Eddie a look that’s probably aiming for stern but only hitting fond as he tries to coax your face from his chest. “It looks great honey, when did you get this?”

Your voice is characteristically quiet, but a bit proud, when you say, “That one’s from a couple months ago. I got my first last November, though.”

“Your first?” Eddie’s gobsmacked. “How many are there? Wait, no, don’t tell me.” He grabs you by the legs, hoisting you over his shoulder. “I wanna find ‘em.” 

“Eds, put me down!” You hiss in his ear, but your words are undercut by giggles. “Steve!”

“Sorry, but I’m kinda on board with this one,” Steve says with an apologetic shrug in your direction. He tosses Eddie the keys. 

#steddie #steddie x reader #steve x eddie x reader #steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #steddie x fem!reader #steddie x you #steddie x y/n #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #steddie imagine #steddie drabble #steddie oneshot #steddie scenario #steddie fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fandom

[ire-as-iris]

What does your future self wants to say to you? [Divination Reading no. 2]

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🚩 Remember to take what only resonates to you.

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┈┈┈┈․° ☣ °․┈┈┈┈

Pile 01

Hey! I hope you're okay. You know, I miss you very much. If only I could back to that day or that version of myself, I would do better but it's too late but not that much. It's like, umm... to boost myself better kind of thought I really miss our moments together, messing with each other and crying like we're in some sort of a movie. This time it's different, it's like I've been consumed to responsibilities and nothing excites me that much. I wanna go back but I can't still, I'm glad I am at a better place financially speaking, spiritually, I don't know I'm not sure but moving this heavy message aside. I hope you're having fun right now make sure that the path you chose is different. I gotta go now, I have a lot of work to do see you again, sometime ❤

🔴 In summary, this one page of my notebook is not enough to say everything she wants to say, If I let her continue I'm afraid it will a whole chapter of a novel lol

🔴 A farm or barn may be significant

🔴 The part where she said different, screams something to me... don't be someone you're not because others their best for you, know when to take it and leave it (e.g in college course)

🔴 I imagined a girl with a long hair, oversized shirt in the rain, laughing her pain to let it go

🔴 She's talkative, my hand hurts writing this hahaha

🔴 You're an extrovert who may be mistaken as an introvert (Oops, I mean you're an introvert and people see you as an extrovert when you're alone, look how I write it wrong here too🤣)

🔴 Majority here seems to be teenagers like me xD

Pile 02

(Trigger warning: mention of sui!c1d3)

Live your life, I'm grateful that I did not t@ke my life (do you have su1cid@l thoughts pile 2?). Bro it's so peaceful to be here, I thought taking my you know will end it but I was wrong, something came to me that stopped me, it was an angel. She was warm and nice (tall too around 5'8, white pale skin color). I think I can't imagine myself to be here if not for her. Now I'm working a normal job with a normal life, enough for me to decide what I want. Ya get what I'm saying? I wasn't planning to have kids, but look! I have one (three or two for some of you). Life's so short and times so fast so keep doing you lad 😉

Peace out! Oh before that, I just want to tell you to don't force anything okay? It'll come, THAT thing so yeah, let's talk again some time 😉

🔴 I feel like majority that picked this pile are dudes (straight but, again take it how it resonates if you're a member of LGBTQ)

🔴 Chill people

🔴 THAT thing may mean a number of things, depending on you it can be your dream, or really THAT sezzz, etc.

🔴 The angel maybe a literal angel, someone you know (e.g friends, family, etc.) or you're future spouse

🔴 I imagined someone with a curly hair light brown and has beared, he's thin but tall, white skin as well

🔴 He's wearing a jacket, white tee, and long pants (pale dark blue)

🔴 You're maybe in you're twenties or turning 30

🔴 Moon in Gemini at 4th House

🔴 For some of you, I'm feeling that your future spouse (especially if they're a girl) have the vibes of the tracks below.

Pile 03

I can't believe I'm already here, I'm so successful! I've got the benz and my Renz (man, dream guy/the one, whatever you call it). You've got the boss energy, trust me the people who helped you. I feel like the richest on the earth hhahah

Keep on going mama, the universe got us! Loyalty! Love yourself and other people and it will get back to you. It may not be exactly as the way you want it but, I promise you and I'm sure it going to be better, the best. You'll get it poppin! Ya know what I'm sayin?😘

🔴 Don't be consumed by fame, be yourself positively.

🔴 Some people here have the "Who you?" tendency in a negative way, please don't be like that. (Who you means treating the people you know as strangers because you have the bag and everything you dreamed of)

🔴 Remember being a bish to others will give you shi* to yourself, and your loved ones, your child may be the one who'll suffer if you don't change it

🔴 Funny people are reading this pile

🔴 Harry styles, love and disco songs maybe you're favorite/topic of your songs

🔴 Influencer, artists, rappers, people of color, rags to riches, attitude

🔴 Neptune in Capricorn at the First House

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METHOD USED: AUTOMATIC WRITING and spotify playlists

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💋 Be you, Do you, You are You! 💋

#Spotify #divination readings #divination #pick a card #pick a pile #pac #tarot #tarot community #tarot reading #ire-as-iris

[madam-kumo]

J-Street Fashion Banners/Moodboards

Kogal Gyaru A street fashion very influenced by 80's - Y2k fashion in the west. This fashion involves bright tans, blonde hair, and doll-like eyes. This specific substyles of Gyaru is extremely common with teens in Japan as it allows them to wear Gyaru but still wear their uniforms. There are many more exaggerated form of Gyaru like Agejo, Tropical Gyaru, and Hime. This style is most commonly known for being the exact opposite to Japanese beauty standards at the time.

Sweet Lollita

A Japanese street fashion most commonly associated with Rococo and Victorian clothing. Its most well known for its very lacy and ruffled trims and extremely ornate patterns (usually ranging from sweets to cute animals). Also, please note that the fashion has no association with the novel of the same name and the same name is merely a coincidence. Other substyles of Lollita includes, from goth to punk to the very ornate Hime Lollita. This fashion style is all about the desexualization of femininity and appealing to your inner fancy princess.

Visual Kei Visual Kei or V-Kei is most well known for its music because of their association and similarities to western goth music. Visual Kei is actually referred to as a branch of the umbrella term "Goth" and its most popular influences are bands like Malice Mizer and Dadaroma. Visual Kei, like Gyaru, has seen a boom in popularity because of the comebacks of 2000's fashion and the acceptance of alternative styles. Visual Kei is most noticeable by the multiple black layers along side dramatic hairstyles and makeup. The most popular substyles of V-Kei are Eroguro-Kei, Tanbi Kei, and Angura Kei. This style is all about visual dramaticism, hence the name, and creative expression.

Decora-Kei

Decora fashion is most well known for its visually bright and very colored style. This style involves kid-like fashion but times ten. Most Decora wear extremely bright or bold colors and eye catching clothing and multiple accessories. Many Decora's describe themselves as "Straight out of a Lisa Frank coloring book" and they show that influence in their extremely bold and flashy style. Decora's generally wear bright tennis shoes or platforms with multiple pieces of jewelry and hairpieces. Common themes are kid's shows, hello kitty, and rainbows. This style is meant to appeal to appeal to your inner child and be as eye catching as possible.

Menhera (Trigger Warning for mentions of Self-harm, suicide, mental illness, and general gore themes.)

Menhera is mostly well known for its art work and media that slowly influenced into a fashion type. Menhera's are usually wear medical related things like bandages, pill themes, and paying a bit of homage to nurse or school girl uniforms. This style is usually colored with hot pinks, pastel colors, white, and lavender. The most noticeable part of this fashion is the implications of self-harm with bandages on the wrists and thighs and a boxcutter; this is seen a lot on a popular character named Menhera Chan. This style's purpose is to bring awareness to mental health and the importance of it because of Japan's high suicide rate.

Mori Kei

Mori Kei is a street fashion centered around cottage living and as if living in a forest. Mori Kei consists of blouses, green ruffled skirts, and general "nature-like" fashion. This style is most commonly associated with "Cottage-Core", which is a western subtype of this fashion as Mori Kei really took off in 2009 while Cottage-Core became popular in mostly the 2020's. Mori Kei focuses on naturality, like a lack of overly expressive makeup and more toned down clothing that less visually eye-catching but no less beautiful. Mori Kei is also centered around hobbies from sewing, to reading, to even photography.

Sukeban

A Japanese style that got incredibly popular in the 70's when a movement started to stop the overly strict school systems for women. Girls began to do the same as males, sitting "unladylike" and making ugly faces in pictures, and began to intimidate teachers. These women first began changing their uniforms, making them longer and wearing unauthorized accessories, as a form of protest. This style was very looked down upon and still is today because of its association with gangs and violence. However, this style has slowly but surely grown in popularity due to social media, manga, and a popular Japanese movie called Sukeban Deka. This style is centered around the empowerment of women and to fight back against social and gender norms.

#j fashion #japanese fashion #custom banners #fashion #styles #alternative styles #Sukeban #Lollita Fashion #gyaru fashion #visual kei #Decora Kei #Menhera #Mori Kei

[orpheusredux]

Ride the Lightning

Summary: Eddie is hanging out in his girlfriend's bedroom when he discovers something... naughty and delightful.

Rating: NC17

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Reader. Established relationship

Warnings: Very, very smutty. No Minors! 18+ only. Canon compliant.

A/N: I have been writing this is fits and starts for weeks, but I just couldn't stop. I meant it to be a quick and dirty little drabble about a boy, and girl and her vibrator, but then I went and got feelings all over it and it turned out way longer than I intended too. Please consider reblogging, it really helps. Also, this way for my AO3 and my masterlists. 5433 wds

“Baby… what’s this?” 

You look up from where you’re lying on your tummy on your bed reading a trashy romance novel to see your boyfriend of six months holding…

“Oh my God, Eddie! Put that back!”

…Your vibrator. 

You met at a punk show in Indianapolis in the depths of Winter. Eddie was working the door, and when you walked up late to meet your pals who were already inside, he’d looked you up and down, given you a wrist stamp, and a wink, and ushered you in without asking for a dime.  

It was almost as if he’d known the way to your heart was free gigs. 

Later he’d “bumped into you” at the bar and bought you a drink. Then you bought him one. Then there were shots with the band. The next thing you knew the two of you were back at your apartment, sprawled across your ratty old sofa, his tongue in your mouth and your hand in his pants. You’d been dating ever since. 

Being with Eddie was both delightfully easy, and head-fuckingly bizarre at the same time. 

First of all, he was a metaller, and you’d only ever dated punks, stoners and on one less than stellar occasion, a party guy from California who wore pastel exclusively. You were not prepared for the level of energy Eddie brought to your relationship, the earnestness and often kind of confronting honesty. He told you he loved you three months in, and then proceeded to spend the next three months showing just how much. 

“I learned the hard way not to fuck around,” he told you once, when you’d pressed him on how he could tell someone he loved them so easily. “I know for a fact you don't always get that tomorrow you're putting things off till. You know?”

Which brings you to the second thing: Eddie was from Hawkins, that town down state that had caught fire and burned to the ground - like the whole town. They called it Indiana’s Centralia, now, after that town out East that’d been burning for 30 years? That was Hawkins. Everyone had been evacuated and there was still a danger zone three miles deep around the place.

Eddie talked about it sometimes, not a lot, but enough for you to know he wasn’t over what had happened to him there. All you knew was he’d seen some shit, been badly hurt and never wanted to go back. Except… as much as he hated the place, as much as it scared him and he never wanted to see it again, it was like he knew one day he’d have to. 

It was eerie, honestly.

He never took off his shirt, either. Not even in bed. You’d felt that the skin on his ribs and chest wasn’t entirely smooth, and once in bed he’d rolled over in his sleep and you’d glimpsed some shiny pink skin at his waist. You knew it had been bad, you knew there’d been fire, but those scars looked… well, they didn't look like burn scars. They almost looked like... well, it was silly what you'd thought. Besides, it had been dark and what the fuck did you know, anyway?

Glimpsing them hadn’t made you any less curious about him, but it did make you stop trying to get him to take his shirt off in bed.

You didn’t know how to tell him that he was safe with you, that he was the best boyfriend you’d ever had. Kind, considerate, thoughtful; that you thought it was quick, sure, but maybe you were falling in love with him. 

He’d introduced you to his only family, his uncle Wayne, who lived in Wyoming now, but came to visit him a lot, and the guys from his band - Gareth, Jeff and Dave - Corroded Coffin.

He shared a place with them in Speedway, you'd stayed there a few times. You loved the guys, really you did, but it was kind of a dump, so you spent a lot of time together at your studio on Canal Walk.

He wasn’t perfect - he could be impulsive, your dad worried about his “fiscal stability”, and for someone with so many secrets, he sure was nosey. 

Which was why he was currently standing in your bedroom holding your goddamned vibrator with a look on his face like he’d just won the sexual lottery. 

In his defense - not that he deserved any - you are the one who left the draw open, which was practically an invitation to pry as far as Mister Sticky Beak here was concerned. But still, a girl could keep some secrets, couldn’t she? 

You leap off the bed and make a grab for it - or try to - before he can push the little black button on the base of the thing. 

Eddie, being Eddie, holds it above his head, just out of your reach and says, “Now now, let's not be hasty,” as you try vainly to grab it.

“Eddie,” you whine and consider elbowing him in the ribs - but the other thing that glimpse of his scars has given you is a healthy respect for his body. You’d rather die than hurt him. You’ll have to resort to pouting and pleading instead. “Give it back. That’s private.” 

You give him a pointed look and hope he’ll pick up what you’re putting down. Naturally he doesn’t. 

“Is it though?” He leers at you, trying not to laugh right in your face. “I mean, I am sort of in charge of delivering the orgasms around here now, aren’t I?” 

You bark a laugh, despite yourself. “Oh, who are you, again? Cruise director of the love boat? My orgasms are my business, mister!” 

“That’s not what you were saying last night,” he says slyly, before putting on the worst - also the most annoyingly accurate - impersonation of you in the throes of passion, pitching his voice just below a falsetto squeak. “Oh Eddie! Oh Eddie, you’re gonna make me… I’m gonna… Oh, oh, oh!” 

Scars be damned, you poke him right in the armpit, and he drops the vibe with an “oof”. You grab it before it can hit the ground, and make to run away with it, but he grabs you - playfully -  around the waist and mock-wrestles you onto your bed. You land on top of him, both of you breathless and laughing by now, the vibe clutched tightly in your fist, up by his head. 

His hands slip down you back, over your hips and he grabs two good handfuls of your ass. In the six months since you started fooling round he has never missed an opportunity to show you how much he loves touching you, kneading your flesh, tracing all your curves. He likes it almost as much as he seems to like being touched by you. It’s one of the things you adore the most about him - he has a healthy respect and fulsome admiration for your big, bouncy body. 

“OK,” he says. “Let’s settle this like gentlemen. Let’s play a game…” 

You squint at him, not trusting him one inch - you trust him completely, but you also do. Not. Not one inch. 

“Like gentlemen, old sport! What what,” you reply, in a mock English accent.

“Let’s play Quid, Pro, Quo.” 

Now, you’ve never played a game called Quid, Pro, Quo before, but he just took you to see Silence of the Lambs last week - you don’t care what anyone says about psychological thriller, that was a dang horror film in disguise - so you think you have a pretty good idea what it means. 

“Ew, Eddie, I am not role playing sexy serial killers with you,” you say, and put up a bit of a struggle to get off him. 

That really makes him laugh, but instead of letting you get away, he wraps his arms around you and gives you a squeeze. 

“Oh Jesus Christ, no. That does nothing for me, either,” he says with a theatrical shudder, that only serves to rub you forcefully all over his body, your soft squishy boobs against the hard, warm planes of his chest. It makes something delicious tingle deep in your core. How’s that for quid pro what-the-fuck-ever, you get plenty of pleasure and enjoyment out of his body, too. 

“No, in my version of the game, we take turns offering each other something we think the other might want, and if they do, they have to…” 

He lifts a hand off your derriere and waves it around suggestively. 

“What like, I offer you a BJ, and if you want one - “ 

“If!” Eddie snorts. 

“ - you have to offer me ‘something of equal or greater value’?” 

“Yeah,” he says with a grin. “Something like that. And then you can counter it with something of greater value again.”

“Like a sexy version of ‘chicken’?” 

“Well, I was trying to make it classy, but we can go with ‘Sexy Chicken’ if that works. My idea, so I start…”

“Nuh huh, Big Fella,” you say, tweaking his chin with the hand not currently holding a goddamned vibe. “Ladies first… OK, what will you give me to get the hell off you.” 

“Oh no,” Eddie replies, nose scrunched up. “I wouldn’t even give you a dime for that. You’ll have to stay exactly where you are.” He grabs your ass again, and kind of settles in with a sigh. 

“Ungh, OK,” you say, rolling your eyes. “What if I… take off my bra.” 

“Without getting off me?” 

“Without getting off you, you perv.” 

He laughs and then bites his lip considering. “OK, I will give you a foot rub. Both feet. On… Thursday, straight after your shift at the coffee shop.” 

You gasp. You work nights at the campus beanery and your feet are routinely absolutely battered by the end of the night. 

Once, early in your courting, Eddie had been waiting for you at your place when you came home from one of those shifts. He’d waited for you to kick off your shoes, and slump in your favorite chair, before kneeling down next to you, and starting to knead your instep, heels, calves and the pads of your toes. Without being asked.

No offence to the many wonderful orgasms you’d shared with each other since you met, but that massage had been better than sex. 

Now that he was working the door at the club more regularly, Eddie wasn’t around when you finish work much anymore, so this offer was kind of a big deal. 

You start reaching behind yourself to unclasp your bra without saying another word -  only to then realize you are still holding the Goddamned vibrator. You chuck it up the bed by the pillows, and he grins down at you cheekily. 

“I’m on a goddamned promise, Munson,” you say, from somewhere inside your tee shirt. 

“Yeah, yeah, you know I’m good for it.” 

His eyes slip over your shoulders and arms as you wriggle and twist, pulling your straps off under your tee shirt and pulling the bra out the sleeve. Through two layers of denim you feel his cock twitch when your unfettered boobs press against his torso. He bites his tongue and sweeps his hands up and down your arms. His gaze is just as warm and soft. 

“Ta dah!” you say, flinging the bra away. You’re immediately jostled a bit by his laughter. “My turn again?” 

“Your turn,” Eddie agrees. 

You take your time thinking, trying to remember some throw away snippet of kinkiness he’d hinted at, or a time when he’d wanted to try something, but  you hadn’t. Finally, you mind settles on a movie you’d watched together one rainy afternoon that had ended in a mind blowing fuck on the floor of your en suite bathroom. 

“I will let you do that - you know - that thing, from 9 1/2 Weeks.” 

Eddie goes very still. “OK, I need to be clear here, are you talking about the striptease?” 

“Nope… the other thing.” 

“With the - the ice and the -” 

“And the blindfold.”

“Holy fuck,” Eddie said, eyes like saucers.  

You cross your hands on top of his chest and rest your chin on the back of them. “I play to win, Munson,” you say, all cocky. 

He laughs at you. “Oh my God, what have I got that would match that?” 

“What indeed?”

He looks at you thoughtfully, reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear tenderly, and then in the smallest voice you’ve ever heard him use, he says, “The next time we fuck - I’ll take off my shirt. I’ll take it off. For you.” 

It’s so not what you were expecting, so not where you thought this teasing, titillating game was going, that for a second you’re too shocked to say anything. Your voice just deserts you, until finally…

“Baby, you don’t have to do that.” 

“No, I know,” he says with a sigh, his eyes slipping away from yours, to focus on a tendril of your hair he’s playing with. “But I also know it’s weird - ”

You do push away from him then, because you’ve suddenly got this horrible weight in the pit of your stomach. Did you give him that idea? Had you made him feel pressured? 

“It’s not weird,” you say. He sits up too, as if he’s going to argue the point. So you stop him, with a hand to his chest. 

“It’s not weird,” you say, firmly. “It’s private. It’s none of my business, it’s - you don’t have to tell me or show anything you don’t want to.” 

He covers your hand on his chest with one of his own. 

“But what - what if I want it to be your business,” he says. “God, that sounded way better in my head. I mean - “ 

You turn your hand, take hold of his and squeeze, nodding for him to go on. 

“I don’t want us to have secrets anymore. I feel like I’m keeping something from you every time we fuck, and I don’t want to any more.”

“Then I’m happy for you to tell me anything you want to tell me. But Eddie, you have to know -” 

His eyes are so big and limpid in the dim light of your room and you just - you don’t want any secrets any more either. 

“You must know I l-love you,” you say finally, tripping over the biggest four letter word in the language. 

He smiles, warmly, but you can’t help noticing there’s sadness there too as he scoots up the bed. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, reaching behind his head to pull the back of his shirt over his shoulders and off. “You really do play to win.”

The tee shirt sails off the side of the bed and then there’s just him, his arms out wide, head lowered so you can’t really see his face, just his mottled torso and the top of his dear, beloved head. 

You knew it was going to be bad, but it’s actually even worse than that. He’s not looking at you, so you have time to school your face into a placid, relaxed gaze, to not to show what you’re really feeling, because you know the shock and horror would hurt him, even if he pretended it didn’t. 

Now you understand exactly why he’d never shown you before; why it took him half a year to trust you with this. You’re honest enough with yourself to admit if you’d seen the ruin of his chest in the first few blushy weeks of your romance, you might have run for the hills. 

Low, on his right side, there are gouges - not burns - angry-looking welts of pinkish, reddish skin that bulge and buckle like an infection that’s healed badly. Dotted around this scar are little rosy contusions, like blood has burst under the surface and congealed there. Deep scores - healed, but puckered - rake across his hip. They look like they could pop open again at the slightest provocation. 

You can’t keep back the gasp that comes when you take in the extent of the damage to his right side, though. There’s almost nothing there but scar; no nipple, or curve of skin over fat, muscle and bone. Instead it’s just a horribly twisted rent in the flesh where those parts of his anatomy should be. 

Without thinking, you reach out - to what? Sooth? Map? Verify? You don’t know - only to pull back before you can touch him. He catches your hand, pulling it towards his ruined pec, flattening your fingers, gently, like he’s trying not to spook you, and pressing them to the skin. 

“It’s OK,“ he says. “It doesn’t hurt. It’s healed. It’s actually…I was going to try and say it’s not as bad as it looks. But, ah, it is - it was - exactly as fuckin’ bad as it looks.”

“Oh Eddie,” you whisper, because there’s really nothing else you can say. The skin under your fingertips is warm and hard, feels rubbery and artificial. You feel what’s left of his muscles flex a little under it.

He lets go of your hand and takes hold of your shoulders. 

“You can’t tell anyone,” he says, urgently, whispering your name rather than one of his many pet names for you, squeezing your shoulders for emphasis. “Everything they say about Hawkins, the - the fire, the chemical spills. It’s all bullshit. I’ll tell you all of it, one day, if you want. But, it’s a long story. Can we - another time?”

You nod as if you understand, but you don’t. You’re not sure you ever will, or even want to.

“Do they - can you feel me?” You ask, sliding your hands so gently over the scars, touching. mapping each one. 

“Yeah, I can feel you,” he says. “I always feel you.” 

With your hand still on his chest, you kneel up, straddling his thighs, press yourself closer to him, leaning in to kiss to his mouth, slowly and thoroughly, so he knows - so he can be certain - this knowledge changes nothing except to make things more real, more sure between you. 

“I'm so sorry this happened to you. And I am so glad you survived.” You hear your voice catch on that last bit, feel the tears choking up at the back of your throat. 

He makes a soothing sound and wraps his arms around you. 

“I was mad about it, for a long time,” he says, his voice muffled where his face is pressed into your neck. “But - this is going to sound fucking insane - everything that happened brought me here.” 

He leans back and looks up into your eyes. You cup his dear face in your hands. 

“I don’t think I’d change a fucking thing - not even losing my goddamned nipple - if it meant I didn’t get to have you.”  His voice is gentle, soothing, and so full of love he’ll never need to say the words if he just keeps talking to you like that.

You kiss him then, because you’re not sure what will happen if you try to speak. You don’t want to cry all over him. He’d only end up taking care of your messy feelings, when you’re pretty sure he’s got big enough feelings of his own to deal with. 

You lean back and smoothing your hands over his bare shoulders and back to his neck, you say, “so, I guess that makes it my turn again, huh?” 

He barks one of his big braying guffaws, wraps his arms around you and squeezes. 

“Oh, we’re still playing? OK, OK, sure, babycakes. Whaddaya got?“ 

Out of the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of that goddamn vibe sitting by your pillow. The idea pops into your head before you’ve really thought about the logistics, but once it’s there, you almost can’t get it out. Could you? Should you? Really? 

You pull yourself off his lap and crawl up the bed, collapsing onto your back, the pillows under your head. Eddie twists to watch, and his eyes go soft when you pick up the vibe and turn it over in your hands. 

“What if I… ride the lighting, right here, right now, while you watch?” 

You both stare at each other for a second, until Eddie cracks, snickering like a naughty school boy. 

“Ride the what now?” 

“Ride the - the lightning, baby,” you say, giggling and waving the vibe. “That’s what they call it right? ‘Cause it’s electrical? “ 

“Oh my God, seriously? What the hell have you been reading?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know? 

“I’m pretty damned sure I would,” Eddie says, bemused. He crawls up the bed after you to lie on his side looking down at the little pink vibe in your hands. 

He reaches out, and thumbs the little black button on the bottom. The little thing starts up with a buzz that makes the breath catch in both your chests. Eddie hmms, and runs the tips of his finger over the soft, curved edge. You know he’s picturing it, picturing you spread out for him, pleasuring yourself while he watches. 

“OK,” he says, lifting the vibe out of your hands, and gently rolling it over the curve of your breast. It feels so good, even through your tee shirt, you can’t help squirming a little at the sweet, tingling hum of it. “I see your offer of a wanton display of feminine lust, and I raise you… me fucking you with this - where does it - oh, I see where that goes - me fucking you with this, while we both watch.” 

“Mmmmhmmm.” 

Without saying a word, you start pushing your sweatpants down your legs and trying to wriggle out of your tee shirt at the same time, which ends up getting you all tangled, so Eddie has to put the vibe down and help you get the shirt off.  

“Leave your panties on,” he says, breathless as he lies on his back to thumb open the button on his own jeans and start kicking them off. 

“I think we messed up the game,” you say, as you scoot back on the bed, and watch Eddie pulling off his boxers and socks. “I think I got too many turns.” 

“Hmmm?” Eddie hums, thoroughly distracted by your breasts and thighs, and his eyes are fixed on the damp patch you can feel slowly spreading across the crotch of your white panties. He’s not thinking about the game or his scars, or Hawkins. Just you. The joy floods through you like sweet honey in your veins, warm and delicious. You get to have him, have this. Fuck, yes. Life, God, the Universe - whatever - may suck ass sometimes, but sometimes, it’s also this good. 

He guides you to lie back as he slides up next to you. His cock, half hard and leaking, is pressed against your hip as he leans over you to kiss your mouth. Then there’s a click, and a hum as the vibe starts again. Still kissing you he starts to roll it, so gently from your collarbone, over the swell of your breast, to your nipple. 

“Eddie,” you hiss, arching your back. He pulls away from you, to turn his head and look down the length of your torso to the stiff, pink peak of your tit. 

He hums again, almost to himself, like he’s considering where to go next. When it seems like he’s decided, he drags the vibe slowly across your sternum, to your other nipple, and rolls the buzzing silicone over your tender flesh. He looks down at your chest. 

“God, baby, look at these pretty little titties,” he says, biting his plush lower lip. 

You look down at yourself, but the sight of him holding the buzzing tip of the vibe to your quivering nipple is too much. You mewl, and grip the sheets beneath you in your fists, pushing yourself into the warmth the vibe is creating. 

“Do you - oh, God - do you like them, Eddie?” 

He leans down to suck the stiff peak of your other nipple into his soft, wet mouth and lets it go with an obscene pop. 

“Oh Princess, you know I do.” 

You’re just holding on as the buzzing against your tender flesh starts to verge on pain. But it’s the kind of pain that shoots right through your core to your aching cunt, makes it flutter and clench. 

“Fuck, Eddie,” you whine, arching your back and rubbing your thighs together, before letting your legs fall open and tilting up your hips. 

“Hmmmm, so sensitive,” he says, his voice deep and rough. He tilts his face again to look down your body to your sex and his hair brushes across your cheek like a butterfly’s kiss. “Oh ho ho, what do we have here?“ 

“Please, baby," you whine, canting your hips again. “Please.”

“Needy girl,” he sing-songs, and starts dragging the vibe across your sternum and down, over your belly to the edge of your white cotton panties. “Oh no, you’ve made a bit of a mess here, Princess.”

You know that by “mess” he means the damp patch. You’ve been wet since he started this game, and now you’re practically flooding. Any other time you’d be embarrassed about that, and the noises you're making as he rolls the vibe across your pubic bone and your mons, but you just can’t summon an ounce of shame right now. All you want is that vibe where it belongs, buried in your pussy, or on your clit. You fucking want it. 

“Please, Eddie, don’t tease me,” you say, and your voice sounds so shaky, you’re shivering so hard your teeth are almost chattering. 

He slips the vibe over the thin cotton, to the damp patch. He rolls the vibe around pressing in. It almost makes you jerk, like he’s touched a live wire to your core. 

“Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” you start chanting, pressing your hips up into that hot buzz. “Fuck, yes. Right there, oh, oh Eddie.” 

Your head is thrown back, eyes clamped shut as you chase that feeling, fisting the sheets under you. You can feel it building so you chase it. If he keeps this up you’ll come just like this. 

“Hold on there, sweetheart,'' he says, not removing the vibe, but easing some of the pressure. “We’ll get you there, but not too soon, OK?” 

You can’t help the whine that follows. It sounds so needy and pathetic. Again, you’d be embarrassed, but it’s all you’re capable of right now. It makes Eddie chuckle, and worse, lift the vibe away from you altogether. 

“Edd-ie,” you pout. But he just taps your hip and starts to slowly peel your panties down. You lift your ass long enough for him to get them out from under your butt, and then he’s drawing them down your thighs, and calves, over your feet and off. And then, like the wild goddamned animal he is, he smooshes them against his nose and mouth and breathes deep.  

“Fu-uck, baby, you smell so good.” 

You respond to his teasing by spreading your legs wide and slipping your fingers between your wet folds. “Yeah? How does it look, Daddy?” You ask him, as his eyes fix on your cunt. 

He knows what a fucking buzz you get from him looking at your sex. You don’t know why, or what it means, but any time he looks at your pussy, you feel yourself get exponentially hotter, infinitely wetter. Part of you thinks you could just come from him watching you spreading while he tells you how good your little kitty looks, how much he wants it. Which is kind of what’s happening right now, God have mercy. 

He throws your panties over his shoulder, and leans down to nose your hand out of the way and suck your little rose bud into his mouth. It’s kind of an awkward angle, but that just makes it feel even better, unexpected and strange.

“Taste fucking good, too,” he says, pulling off your clit, breathless and a little dazed. His cock, hard and red, is jutting up from his lap, the tip wet with pre-come. You want to suck it, but before you can ask for it, he rolls the vibe over your mons, and presses it hard, against the left side of your clit. 

That really does make you jackknife up off the bed. You can feel the buzz everywhere, in everything, all at once. It’s humming in your cunt, your ass, even your nipples, it reverberates through your teeth and out the top of your head, where every single follicle is standing on end. There are thousand tiny bubble bursting under your skin, and you never want it to end. 

“Fuck yeah, baby,” you hear Eddie say, as if from a distance. “Fuck yeah, fucking ride it.” 

You realize there’s someone in the room wailing… it takes you a second to understand that that someone is you. You’ve got one hand fisted in the sheets, and the other is gripping Eddie’s knee. Your toes are curled into the blankets, and your eyes are clenched shut as the orgasm arcs through you like he’s just flicked the on switch and lit you up. 

It seems to go on forever, every muscle in your body going into spasm for long, hot seconds of pleasure, until it slowly starts to ebb away. 

You slap feebly at Eddie’s hand when it’s too much, when the intense pleasure has melded into a keen pain. He gently lifts the vibe away from you, thumbs the button and leans over to put it on your bedside table. 

For a couple of minutes, you can’t open your eyes or move a muscle. It’s like all your bones have turned to jelly. You lie there, spread eagle, panting, your hand still gripping his thigh.

“Fucking hell, Eddie,” you whisper, finally. “Fucking hell.” 

“Yeah?” 

You peel open one eyelid to look at him, leaning by your side. “Yeah,“ you breathe, only just able to nod your head. 

You attempt to sit up and turn to him. It’s a pretty pathetic attempt, all things considered and you end up sort of limply rolling towards him, the vision of that big, red, weeping cock of his is still fresh in your mind. “What about…” 

He’s got one arm across his lap, covering his groin. 

“Yeah, about that…” 

“Oh my God, did you just bust a nut from watching me come?” 

“You make sound so romantic,” he says wryly, reaching over the edge of the bed and snagging his Metallica shirt to cover his slowly deflating junk with. 

“Eddie,” you say, reaching for him. “Baby, that is the hottest fucking thing that has ever happened to me.” 

“Sure, sure,” he says, as he wipes up his lap and throws the tee shirt into the far corner of the room. But he lets you pull him on top of you, your loose, sweaty bodies sliding together a perfect fit. 

“You’re just too… God,” he says, snuffling into the crook of your neck and wrapping his arms and legs around you and under you in a sticky, sexy bear hug. “Too fucking sexy. I had to bust.” 

You both laugh, giddily. 

Eventually he rolls off you, and leans up on his elbow, his tousled head resting on his palm as he looks down at you. He’s so lovely, those chocolate eyes, and his plush, beautiful mouth, even the road map of pain on his chest that leads all the way back into his past, all the way to you two here, in this bed… even that has a kind of raw beauty. He’s a survivor, your man. 

“Eddie,” you say, reaching up to twine a lock of his hair around the finger. “I think I was wrong.”

He grunts a little as he leans over you to grab a pack of smokes from the bedside table. He pops two out and lights them both at the same time, like some Beatnik from the 60s, one for him and one for you.

He takes a lit smoke from between his lips and holds it out for you. You take it, wait for him to take his own out of his mouth and blow a plume of smoke over your heads, before you lean in and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.  

Leaning back again, you take a drag, blow a plume of smoke of your own, and smile. 

“Yeah,” you say, stretching languidly. “I think you are in charge of dispensing the orgasms ‘round here now.”

______

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