#but the trailer doesn't give much away (and not really any yellow)

[dribs-and-drabbles]

Vice Versa ep 3

It's another long one...and one where I lay down some theories...

It might be called Soft Blush but this episode included many red/pink and blue pairings - the yellow and green pairing also showed up a few times but not as much - which is maybe because this ep focused a lot on Puen and Talay coming together, getting to know one another, going on a not-a-date date, and forming a closeness and attachment to each other...and which partly leads me to think that the show may be coding our two main characters as blue and red/pink (I'm still not differentiating them until there's an obvious separation). I'm not sure which colour is which character yet, and it may not mean anything beyond 'those are their colours', but I'll come back to this later...

First, the ep starts in the same green palette as ep 2, but the scene is a continuation from the end of that ep so it makes sense, then the opening title screen blends the green with pink, add a little blue (!) before settling on the soft blush…and as if to answer my pondering at the end of my ep 2 post, Puen is wearing colour for the first time straight away! (and I know it's the colour of the ep but it could also be Puen wearing his own colour...or Talay's colour...)

So the red-and-blue pairings... It's first seen in the café with their clothes (above) and the blue water glasses, then with the friend group (below) with a richer blue and red on their lower halves and softer hues on the top halves balanced symmetrically across the frame. Note also that Up's hoodie is dark green and also has a yellow triangle (along with blue red and black). Further still, this frame in particular has the four main colours in the background, with the green plants, the yellow lightbulb sign to the right, the blue behind, and red to the left...

And later, Puen has a dark blue shirt with Talay in light pink...and the colours are repeated in Aou's stripy top (and the red/blue sign behind). Up again has a bit of green...but check out his red and blue socks! (In fact, Up's wardrobe has a lot of funky socks in general).

Later still, Aou is in a rich red with Up in a bright blue...and I thought it was an odd choice for the "Have Fun" design on his sweater in the first half of this scene...but it was giving us a hint that they had actually forgiven Tun/Puen and were just messing around.

And we got a few scenes with just Puen and Talay with shades of red and blue...first very pale when Puen is feeling disheartened and Talay is trying to cheer him up... (Note also the purple bag - being a blending of both colours...maybe because they're finding a common ground between them as they're getting to know each other better.)

...and then with the deep, plush, shades of the cinema seating on the not-a-date date. I thought this framing was an interesting...for a lot of the scene in the cinema the blue seats were more hidden in the back in the dark BUT when Puen recites the confession to Talay, it's lighter and the frame pans out to show the stripe of blue at the top as well.

And then the helmet..."The one wearing this is cute" in blue and pink...incidentally, I'd be interested to know if in Thai this sentence keeps the word order...or, more specifically, which words are in blue and which words are in pink - anyone? Also, I had noticed Talay's bracelet before this moment but seeing it here confirmed for me that it is indeed blue...

Going back to the 'flashback' scene…it was the below framing that made me think that perhaps the two main characters are being more specifically coded…with a blue halo for Tun (and surrounded by pink/purple…also note the hint of red to the right). This could imply Tun/Puen is blue…I mean, in the poster images, Puen is in blue denim whilst Talay is in pink trousers…however Talay does say he dislikes pink…but it could be a little like 'the lady doth protest too much'. Yes, he says the pink/red he wears are Tess' clothes BUT he can choose not to wear them.

Of course, there is also an argument for Talay being blue - his name practically indicates this with Talay meaning "sea"…but also he has a blue phone, and a blue bracelet - and Puen could be red - someone said that Puen's second name means "wind"/"air" (so the pink sky that Talay dislikes so much?)…but also the first colour he wears is pink. It could be that as Talay falls for Puen he will accept and like pink more and more.

Who knows…but as I was trying to sort all this out in my head it occurred to me that it could be both…as in Talay is blue and Puen is red/pink but in the alternative universe it's...wait for it...vice versa, with Tun being blue and Tess being red/pink. But also none of this could be right 😂 It might be clearer as the series goes on if these characters are coded this specifically...and in the meantime I'll just keep pondering.

Anyway, note in the above that green is paired with yellow again in Up's shirt...and below, we get another instance where red/blue and yellow/green all appear together. When the four were sat around the table during the screenplay pitch I was sad there wasn't any yellow...but look at Up's socks again!

And so for the extra colours from the past two eps - orange and brown - the former didn't feature much this ep, only popping up briefly with the orange typewriter and in the cinema. With the first scene, Puen had been "lively", living his best life in Tun's body and messing it up in the process, but after speaking with Tess he's instead deep in thought about what he said. And then in the cinema, Puen is playing around trying to see if the other pair is actually a couple whilst Talay is a bit more concerned that they need to work on the screenplay.

Brown had a bit more presence in the ep...and again, one could say it was during scenes where there was a slight serious edge to the conversation or subject matter -> the curved wooden structure in the association at the beginning when Phuwdol, Talay, and Puen are talking about the portkeys; in the café when Talay and Puen discuss the screenplay; Aou's shirt in the 'flashback' when the three friends are discussing their strengths and weaknesses; and finally Puen's t-shirt and shirt at the end during the screenplay pitch and in the last scene with Talay, when he was hopefully being genuine about his promise to live Tun's life well and being grateful for Talay's presence in his life. I've seen some ponderings by others about whether Puen is acting or being real with his feelings towards Talay...and I'm hoping it's the latter...and I'm hoping I'm right with the colour interpretation. We'll see!

[Ep 1] [Ep 2] [Ep 3] [Ep 4] [Ep 5] [Ep 6] [Ep 7] [Ep 8] [Ep 9] [Ep 10] [Ep 11] [Ep 12]

#vice versa #vice versa the series #vice versa ep 3 #talaypuen #jimmysea #tesstun #this got super long so I've written other thoughts and ponderings in another non-colour related post... #vice versa colour theories #I kinda wish this series could attract more viewers #I need more people to go feral over it #yes there's plotholes and it's not perfect #but then nothing ever is #I still think it's wonderful #oh and I'm kind of hoping next week's colour will be a shade of purple #-> to show puen and talay becoming closer together (and being a blending of both their colours) #but I've also seen someone suggest it might be brown #-> because in the last group scene three are wearing the colours of the first three eps...and the fourth is in brown #I would also be happy if it were yellow... #-> because then the first four eps would be the four main colours #but the trailer doesn't give much away (and not really any yellow) #but we'll see! #I like guessing even if I'm wrong

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 51

part 1 | part 50 | ao3

Knowing the weirdness is coming doesn't make it less weird.

Steve clings to Jeff's warning like a lifeline in the days after the attack, as Eddie swings wildly from withdrawn and paranoid to brash and itching for a fight. One second he's tackling Steve in a public park, sweeping him off his feet and swinging in a wide, reckless circle, the next he's shooting dodgy glances over his shoulder and suggesting they come up with some kind of tapping code when they want to communicate the urge to kiss or hug in public.

His face is a mess for weeks.

He doesn’t want to talk about it.

Hardly wants to look at it — takes to avoiding mirrors and fucking Steve from behind, or turning off all the lights, or hiding his face behind his hair when he gets between Steve’s legs. Plays it off like he’s just being sexy, trying something new, ‘isn’t this exciting?’ But Steve’s pretty sure he just doesn’t want to see the worry in Steve’s eyes when their kisses hurt his face.

So Valentine's Day comes and goes, and Steve doesn't say it; doesn't say 'I love you,' because he's never sure he's going to get the version of Eddie who’s brave enough to say it back. They don't even do anything for the holiday, really, which kind of kills Steve, even if he won't admit it.

He can't help it; he's a sap.

They do share a heart-shaped box of chocolates in Eddie’s bed the day after, though. Led Zeppelin crooning softly from the record player, and Steve plays it off like he only bought them because they were half off, and Eddie gives him a gooey look and pushes him into the pillows. Blows him within an inch of his young life; smiles up at him at the end, lips slick and full and pretty. Steve thinks, maybe they're okay.

They’ll be okay.

Eddie may still be a little off, a little wobbly, but he’s laughing again, he’s silly and animated again, he’s playing guitar and making jokes, and—

And who is Steve to judge how a person, like, processes or whatever? At least Eddie’s not doing any late night demolition.

They’re gonna be just fine.

The last of the sickly yellow bruising slips away from Eddie's eye as the month comes to a close, so Steve decides to risk it. Asks Eddie out. A movie night, a proper date where Steve can pay for the milkshakes and let their thighs brush against each other when the theater lights go down.

And sure, they'll have to pretend it’s just two straight guys hanging out — do their tapping thing and keep a healthy distance, two bros being pals being buds being dudes — and that shit sucks, but it’s better than nothing.

Steve's never had to worry about PDA before. One more thing he won't admit is kind of slowly killing him; rope burn around his heart when he thinks about it too hard.

"What do you say?" he asks Eddie. They’re lounging on his couch, propped on opposite ends with their legs tangled in the middle. "You want to let me take you out to the city?"

Brookhaven isn't exactly the city so much as the closest suburb whose mall didn't get torpedoed by the commies, but there's a theater and some decent diners, and it's far enough away that they shouldn't run into any classmates looking to cause trouble.

Eddie gives him a wary look. “I don’t know,” he hedges, fingers coming up to worry the thin sliver of a scar under his chin.

Steve swallows the hurt. The twine chafing behind his ribs. "It's okay," he starts to say, but Eddie's eyes flare with defiance.

“Actually, fuck it,” he declares, slapping his knees as he stands up. Gets up onto the couch cushion, spreads his feet wide and puts his hands on his hips; Steve’s little metalhead superhero. Steve can't help his grin when Eddie shakes his hair out big and says, "Take me out and woo me, baby!"

—

part 52

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fic

[watermelonsugacry]

I'm not sure if you have watched dwd yet but it would so cool if bandmate!y/n had a tiny feature in it

Bus Ride

A/N: I saw it opening night and I have both popular and unpopular opinions about lol

SINCE 2010 masterlist

So we all know that Ms. Wilde is not very fond of the idea of Harry's girlfriend coming on set every once in a while just because it takes his attention away from her. But when YN joined the cast for lunch on set one day in Harry's trailer and Florence made an off-handed comment about how fun it would be if YN did an actual cameo like Olivia's character was supposed to be, the small group of actors laughed along to the idea.

After everyone settled down, she noticed that Harry and Flo gave each other a knowing look.

"No, no." YN warned with wide eyes as she saw the two grow smiles on their faces and got up slowly from their seats. "No! You guys!" She practically fell out of her seat when they basically ran out of the trailer to their director's trailer.

Yeah so as much as Olivia didn't like YN, there was no way she wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to not only have the world's most famous man on the planet as one of her leads, but to have the world's most famous woman in a cameo? What more can she ask for.

And as much as YN tried to get out of it, Harry, Flo, and the rest of the cast persuaded her with their wide, pleading eyes and excitement. Plus, when Jenny mentioned that Olivia basically begged for YN's small role at the suggestion, it definitely was a boost to her ego.

Not to mention the fact that it meant more time with her boyfriend during the day, so she couldn't really complain.

Especially when she's able to wake up at the same time as him, snuggled up by her side in the early hours of the morning. Or when he hands her fresh coffee in her favorite tumbler and holds her hand as he drives them to work. Or the fact that when he walks her over to make-up trailer, he keeps her there for as long as he possibly can before they have to be whisked away.

They lean against the side of the trailer, their shoulders pressed up to the white vehicle as they chat amount themselves--flirty smirks and giggles hidden behind coffee cups. And when they do have to part ways for the time being, he presses a loving kiss to her lips. He holds her close to him as he pecks tiny kisses to her smiling face before she has to back him away with her hand to his face.

After a couple hours switching between make-up, hair and wardrobe, Harry gets called to set by his PA before he can see her in her full attire. Disappointed, he reluctantly steps on the 50s inspired kitchen and sees Florence and some of the other female cast members chatting among themselves. As he approaches the group, he stops in his tracks when one of the women twists her back to look at him.

He's left breathless and his dimples dig into his cheeks at the sight before him. He almost doesn't recognize his love without any of her tattoos and her hair pinned up in victory rolls. The yellow dress they put her in hugs her waist perfectly and the way the skirt puffs out to her knees reminds him of their early days in the band.

And the smile she gives him with her full, cherry red lips? His knees go just might give out.

"Well hey there, handsome," YN beams with an American accent and puts her fists to her hips. The ladies behind her giggle at her antics all the while Harry just stares at her with an open mouth smirk. "Better close that mouth mister, you'll catch flies." YN playfully pinches his lips before tilting her head back, arms bent outwards by her side as she dramatically walks further into the kitchen. "Excuse me ladies, but I have a mouth to feed."

The women laugh behind their masks before quickly getting into character, all nodding as they scurry off the kitchen platform. Even Flo gives him a playful jab in the arm before nodding over to follow his girlfriend. He stuffs his hands into his trouser pockets, steps further into the set and all he can do is just watch his love fiddle around the small kitchen with a fond smile on his face.

"Now, I hope you're hungry because I'm makin' your favorite tonight: roasted chicken with veggies," YN waggles her finger at him as she walks over to the fake sink and moves her hands around under the faucet without any water coming out. "Yes I do the cookin', yes I do the cleanin'. Oh! And look what else they gave me."

She quickly walks over to her boyfriend with a pep in her step and fans out her fingers in between them. He takes her hand in his and thumbs over the rock on her ring finger. "Since I have such a vital role in this film as bus rider number 5, one of the nice make-up lads gave me whole backstory for her. She's very good dancer and loves gardening. She's married to her loyal hubby Jonathan--who is also a part of the Victory project--but she's in her little hoe phase right now because she's apparently having a secret love affair with some bloke named Jack Chambers. But I don't think that's gonna make it in the movie."

Harry can only describe what he's feeling right now as over the moon. It's a mix of gratitude that she's here with him, overjoyed that she's actually managed to bring some light into his dreaded job, and an overwhelming amount of love at the sight of a ring on her finger.

He brings his left hand up to hers and admires the look of their accessorized hands together.

"Think I'd make a pretty good housewife, don't yeh think?"

"You'd make the best wife," Harry finally speaks up and butterflies erupt in his tummy at those tantalizing eyes smiling back at him. "My wife, yeah?"

YN's eyes widen and her heart beat skips when he lowers himself down on one knee. He looks up at her with so much love in his eyes and with her hand in his that he never wants to let go.

"YN YLN?" Harry can see the way her chest begins to rapidly go up and down, her lips parted and if he listens closely, he can almost hear her heart pounding out of her chest. "Will you wait for me as I tie my shoes?"

He bursts into a fit of laughter and weakly shields his arms up as his girlfriend smacks any part of him she can reach.

"You son of a--yeh scared me! I hate you!" YN can't help the laughs that tumble past of her lips.

Olivia doesn't know whether she should sink in on the miserable feeling from the sight of the couple laughing together, Harry pulling his girlfriend into his arms and pressing persistent kisses to her cheeks that has YN squeezes her eyes shut in a fit of giggles. Or if she should feel a weight of relief off of her shoulders at the fact that Harry didn't propose to his girlfriend on the set of her movie.

Taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @s8tellite @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @harianaswhore @teawithcyb0rgs @vrittivsanghavi @vc55bughead @futuristiccroissantlampsludge @onecrazydirectioner @valluvsu @itsgabbysblog @awkwardbisexuall @rosehel @sucker4angstt

#lol idk what this is but it was fun to write #harry x 1dbandmember!reader #since 2010 series #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #one direction #harry styles imagine #one direction fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #don't worry darling #famous!reader #famous!yn #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles masterlist #harry styles and reader #harry styles and y/n

[rogueddie]

Eddie hates how quiet the trailer is. Always has. At night, with the low yellow lights, it's almost worse. Something so eerie, unsettling. And tonight is worse. The silence is almost suffocating, like a living thing scratching at his skin. He can't stand it.

"I hope you don't mind music," Eddie says loudly as he heads to his room.

He doesn't look back at Chrissy, doesn't want to make her anymore nervous than she already is. He simply flicks on the radio, turning it to a more mainstream station that plays the usual pop shit. He doesn't recognize the song playing but it has a lot of synths. It sounds horrible but it's the exact type of song that someone like Chrissy would like, plus it fills the silence. It'll have to do.

It takes him longer to find the special K than he'd like. He really should clean his room. The song that plays next is a Queen song though, so he doesn't have as much to complain about.

He skips back to the living room, grinning.

"Found it! Peaceful bliss, just moments away."

Chrissy is just… stood there. Her eyes are rolled up, making him think for a moment that she might have passed out. Probably from the anxiety. But she's still standing.

"Chrissy?" There's no response, she doesn't even twitch. Maybe she's pulling a prank? "Chrissy? Hello?" If it is a prank then maybe making her jump will make her stop; he jumps a step forward, slightly raising his voice; "Chrissy!"

Nothing. It's then that he notices, it's then that he's close enough to see- her eyes aren't just looking up, they're rolled as far back as they can go, twitching around. They're pale blue, giving her an almost ghostly look.

She isn't pranking him. Whatever is happening is something serious.

"Hey, Chrissy, wake up. Hey, hello?" He snaps his fingers, hoping the noise and proximity might help. Nothing, again. "Chrissy? Hello? Hey Chrissy-!"

The lights flicker. Not just a normal flicker, it's almost violent. He can hear the electricity spike. It's just flickering lights but something about it is terrifying. Something is very, very wrong.

"Time to wake up. Ok, hello?" He grabs her shoulders, hoping to shake her out of whatever is going on with her. "Can you hear me? Wake up, Chrissy. Chrissy, wake up! I don't like this, Chrissy! Wake up!"

The lights are still flickering, the sense that something very wrong overwhelming. Not even the chanting bridge of Radio Gaga eases any of the tension, only makes it more eerie. And nothing he's doing is working. She can't seem to hear him, or see him and even slapping her shoulders doesn't get a response.

"Chrissy? Chrissy, Chrissy, Chrissy!" He keeps repeating, gently slapping her cheeks, so overwhelmingly desperate that his chest almost aches. "Chrissy, wake up now! Chrissy! Chrissy!"

She- she floats. She starts lifting off the ground.

He backs off. Whatever is happening is so far out of his scope, so far out of his control. He can only stare, knowing he can't do anything. Whatever is happening to her is not natural. Not human.

She just stays there, hovering in his living room, eyes rolled back.

Should he pull her back down? Should he leave her floating? What happens if he does try to touch her? Is she cursed? Is something lifting her? If he tries to save her, will it kill her? Is it already killing her and it wouldn't matter anyway? Oh, shit, is he going to have to watch her die?

He has so many questions, so much uncertainty. He stands there; frozen, shaking, eyes wide.

Just when he decides that he should do something, steps forward to grab her ankle and pull her down-

Chrissy gasps. It's as though strings have been cut and she falls, hard. She yelps at the sharp impact, collapsing onto her knees. Eddie is quick to dash forward, falling to his knees too, grabbing at her shoulders again.

"Are you ok? Chrissy, shit, are you ok?!"

She whimpers, throwing her arms around his waist, clinging to him painfully tight. He wraps his arms around her too, holding on just as tight. Her sobbing is horrible, sounding so pained, but it's sound- proof that she's alive, even if she is shaken. Eddie hates how much relief it brings him.

It takes a while for her to calm down. Eddie still feels freaked out.

"Sorry," she tries to pull back.

Eddie holds onto her biceps though. "No, no, no, you don't apologize, just- what the fuck was that?"

She stares at him, conflicted. She looks down, ashamed, when he raises his eyebrows. "I've been having hallucinations. Hearing things."

"That's not what that was," Eddie quickly points out. "You were in the air. You were floating. What the fuck was that?"

"N-no, that… that wasn't real, that-"

"That was real. That was very real."

"Oh god," Chrissy whispers, beginning to tremble again. "It's just hallucinations though, it can't be real. M-maybe you were seeing things too?"

"I am stone cold sober, Chris. I wish I wasn't, I wish this was some mad hallucination, but that was real. That- fucking hell, Chrissy, I thought you were going to die! Please, please, tell me what the fuck is going on. Are you cursed?"

"Maybe. I don't know. Do you… know about curses?"

Eddie barks out a laugh, high pitched and hysterical. "In games? Sure. Whatever this thing is… it's beyond me."

"You knew put on music," Chrissy tries for a smile. "That really helped."

"Music?"

"Yeah. It was like… I could hear which way was the way out? Does that make sense?"

"Sort of. But music was the only thing that helped? Specifically music?"

"Yeah." Chrissy shifts, watching Eddie beginning to pace. "If it's a curse… is nowhere safe?"

"Or do they need to know where you are first," Eddies eyes widen. Chrissy feels her stomach drop when she comes to the same conclusion. "You need to get out of here. Shit. Come on, I'll drive you home. We can figure something out."

Chrissy takes the hand offered, hurrying to keep up with Eddies sprint. "Ok but- Eddie, home isn't safe either."

Eddie frowns, hovering at the passenger door he's holding open. "What? You think it would know you'd go there?"

"Maybe but… it's just… it's not safe."

Eddie doesn't ask. He recognizes the look on her face- he's seen it enough times in the mirror to be more than familiar. He flicks through the radio until it's on the pop station again and drives to Ricks. He goes faster than he should be and a lot less safe, if Chrissys little reactions are anything to go by, but he gets them there quickly. He knows the best place to hide his van too.

"We should stay in the boathouse," Eddie explains when he has to pull her off-course. "He keeps his radio out here, with headphones. Extra batteries too."

He digs around until he finds the radio, the headphones and the multiple packs of batteries. Chrissy is awkward and tense, but he doesn't let that distract him. He would've shoved the headphones on her if he had to.

"I'm gonna grab some blankets from inside. Stay here. No one thinks to look in here and, if this is something looking for you, it might not think to look here too. I'll be quick, promise."

"Ok."

#stranger things #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #ficlet #genfic #and technically unfinished #genuinely no idea where I was going with this #I think I wrote this over a year ago 😭 #was probably going to go into buckingham if I'm remembering right

[ghosttownwherenoonegoes]

For @munsons-maiden; I don't know what this is or where it came from. It just came into my head while you and I were reblogging that Freud shirt and I immediately sat down and got to typing. Figured I'd dedicate it to you, because it means something in our conversation inspired me. Thank you for being you. Interacting with you makes every day better.💕

Summary: ??? Eddie comfort ???? Our baby gets soaked in the rain and you help him because he's too lost in his thoughts. GN!READER

TW; swearing, heavy rain, Eddie's body is in the trailer but his mind is far away (not quite dissociation, more like really lost in thoughts), nicknames (sweetheart, honey, baby and maybe others), Wayne & Eddie indirect interactions, comfort and fluff. This is gonna be sweeter than the chocolate cupcakes I just treated myself to.

Word count: 789.

Eddie stands just beyond the doorway of the trailer, rain dropping off the end of his nose. His clothes are soaked through, his leather jacket heavy and thick against his skin, trapping his body heat where it is. His denim vest is almost black in the heavy saturation, his curly hair lays limp in thick dark tendrils down his face and about his shoulders.

He stares into space, seeing the copious mugs and hats which decorate the furthest walls, but he doesn't see them. Not the Garfield mug which usually makes him smile with nostalgia, not the bright red caps which Wayne favours in the summer time, not even the homemade bright yellow 'best son' mug which Wayne gifted Eddie a few years ago.

Eddie just stands and stares.

"... Eddie?"

He turns his head slowly, eyes still a little glazed over. "Y-yeah, hi." He frowns, clears his throat, and looks at you, his gaze a tiny bit clearer now. "Hey, sweetheart."

"Uhh... are you...?" Your hesitance to approach him is what breaks Eddie out of his silent reverie and he physically shakes himself off like a dog, water droplets spraying everywhere. "Long day?" All you receive from Eddie is a slow nod. You haven't seen Eddie like this for a while and you're not quite sure what to do to help him, but then it occurs to you that maybe Eddie doesn't know how to help himself, either. His mind may be able to picture what to do, but actually carrying his tired body through his routine is a different thing. Which is where you come in.

How many times have you been in the position of having to face yourself at the end of a long, hard day and Eddie has wordlessly helped you, somehow knowing what you need without you having to say a word?

It seems that you're lost in your own thoughts too, because your hands are on either side of the collar of Eddie's leather jacket before you even fully realise that you have moved. He meets your eyes with a small, soft smile, too tired is he to give you much of anything, but he tries because you're you and Eddie will do anything for you. Including giving you essence from an almost empty cup.

You smile back at him and begin to ease both his leather jacket and his denim vest off his shoulders. Eddie makes a soft noise in the back of his throat which sounds very much like relief soaked in love; you're helping him without him needing to ask because you know him so well. He tips his head forward so he can nuzzle the cold tip of his nose into the warm crook of your neck. Wet tendrils of hair stick to you but you don't wince. It's Eddie. "You're so warm," he mumbles, pressing clumsy kisses to any scrap of skin he can reach.

"You'd be warmer if you got out of these clothes, honey," kisses are pressed to his wet curls, the smell of rain masking the scent of him. "You're soaked. Gonna get sick if you stay here like this."

Eddie shrugs but you know he cares. No matter how tired or upset or angry he is, a part of Eddie always cares. If he held his heart in his hands, the heat of all the love he holds within would burn him. To prompt him into getting in the shower, you step away from him, which only makes Eddie whine as he steps back into you while also pulling you closer. It's a collision of hearts as much as it is bodies. He's been without you all day and now he's home, you're stepping away from him. A part of him wants to pout, but you seem to read his mind and encourage him to sort himself out again, "quicker you shower, the quicker we can cuddle!"

You can feel the heat of him even through how wet his clothes are, and how damp your own are. You can get changed while Eddie's showering - these were freshly put on, but you will never pass up a chance to hold Eddie.

"Promise, baby?" This time, he does pout, and you kiss him, once, twice, thrice, four times, because once is never enough for either of you. He's so tired and so are you and the both of you just want to rest. But only with each other; home is where the heart is, and you both followed yours to here.

"Pinky."

You shake your pinkies to seal the promise, and ten minutes later, you have yourself an Eddie sized koala on top of you.

So, really, ten minutes later, you have it all.

eddie baby @eddiebunson @hersweetrevenge @sweetpeapod @sabbathsworld @hawkinsroyaloutcast @seidenbros @bakerstreethound @eddiemunsonshoney @potatos-library @gemstone-roses @hellfire1986baby @jslittlebirdie @comfortcharactercraze @heydreamchild @mywinterivy @corrodedcoffeen @m00nlight101

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson x reader comfort #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #stranger things 4 x reader

[ageofevermore]

falling with grace | i

Summary → lilah’s a newly single mom, tom is her charming english co-star 

Words → 1.6k

Warnings → mentions of divorce, hints to anxiety and anxious behaviors, fluff 

Notes → this has been in my drafts since early 2019. i stumbled across it, so i fixed it up for a cute tom slowburn !! big big big thank you to @hollands-taste​ + @theamazingtomholland​ for hyping me up ahead of time, and for @killingbxys​ listening to me rant for hours on end !! 

add yourself to my taglist

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The sun is unruly in it’s entry, wild in the background. Blonde wisps of hair blow into her face routinely and a little hand comes up to rub sleep from her eyes. The sky is a canvas of wild pastels, the morning just barely upon New York.

Lilah smiles gently as she rubs a delicate pattern into her daughter's warm skin, hoping to keep the toddler asleep for at least another hour or so. Her eyes catch sight of a crew member off in the distance. They’re preparing for a busy few weeks, though things are never anything but organized on warner brothers sound stages as they produce marvel magic.

Lilah breathed out a gentle sigh of relief when she felt her daughter's weight drop, and the telltale steady breaths dance across her neck. She shifted her bag up higher onto her shoulder, escaping the early morning sunrise into her trailer. As always, Lilah leaves the door open, anticipating the arrival of her co-star. The sun brightened her trailer as it rose fully, the sky a brilliant bright blue that teasingly reminded her of what is not yet the past. 

"Hey." Zendaya greets in a whisper, "You've got Gray today?"

The toddler is sprawled out in a pack-in-play, wisps of blonde hair unruly with sleep. Zendaya frowns, watching closely as the façade Lilah built crumbles. The older blonde buries her head in her hands, heaving a heavy and heartbroken sign.  

"William’s plane got delayed. He doesn't know when he'll be up to get her." Lilah ranted, lifting her head only to glance over at her sleeping toddler. This entire situation wasn’t fair to her. 

The stress of a divorce, motherhood, and a movie had been weighing Lilah down for months, and the perfect life she constructed for herself and her daughter seemed to be falling apart. Even then, Lilah tried to make the best of her less-than-ideal situation. 

"I'm always here if you need me, Li," Zendaya reminded with a small smile of encouragement, grabbing onto Lilah’s hands and giving them both a gentle squeeze. "You don't have to do this alone."

Lilah returned the smile, letting silence speak for her. She was never good with dependency and communication, but with Zendaya as her support system, she didn’t have to be. The two actresses went over their sides, wordlessly supporting one another.  

"Good Morning.” Tom peeked his head into the trailer, a warm smile on his face. Lilah couldn’t help but smile back at him. 

Lilah couldn’t help but notice that the English actor was dressed in grey sweatpants, white strings hanging untied, and a white tank top that perfectly showcased his defined biceps. A blush traveled up Lilah’s neck, and she forced her eyes away from Tom before he could notice that she was staring. 

"Hey. How's Tessa?" Zendaya asked, looking up from her sides to greet Tom. He took a seat on the couch opposite the two girls, a luminescent grin brightening his features as he caught sight of the princess sporting toddler sprawled out in the pack-n-play. 

Tom’s throat went dry while he racked his memory for who Tessa was. He’d been lost in a thought, one that involved himself and Lilah hours away from New York. He scolded himself for running away with the thought, pulling his gaze from Grace and instead refocusing on Zendaya with a boyish blush he hopes she won’t notice.

"She’s healing, keeps running into the walls though." He let out a small, nervous chuckle, scratching at the back of his neck. Lilah and Zendaya both quirk an eyebrow at him, but before they can ask, a head pops into the trailer and calls both women to makeup.

Lilah bites her lip, watching her daughter’s back rise and fall with the gentle motion of sleep. “Do you want me to stay with her?” Tom asks softly, picking up on the uncertainty in Lilah’s posture. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, Tom. I’ll just take her with me.” Lilah advances towards the pack-n-play somewhat possessively, distress in her eyes as she looks startled by Tom's offer. 

Tom smiles at the young mother, absolutely amazed by her strength, yet wishing she would let him in. “Don’t worry about it, Lies.” 

“Are you sure?” She falters, eyes falling upon Grace with guilt. She feels bad leaving her daughter in somebody else’s care, especially now, while she’s in the middle of a divorce. “I don’t want you to feel like you half to--” 

“I don’t.” Tom shakes his head, a soft promise in the words he’s spoken. “Let me help you, yeah?” 

Lilah, though reluctantly, nods her head in agreement. 

— ☆ —

Lilah smiled softly at Zendaya, finding the taller girl already set up in the hair and makeup trailer. Her mind was still heavy on Tom and Grace, but she tried to refocus her energy on the day of work ahead of her. 

“You know, Tom is really good with her.” Zendaya mimed, looking over at Lilah with a gentle smile as to not seem like she was intending to overstepping. Nobody really knew where the boundaries were with Lilah, especially now. “I’m pretty sure they had a tea party last week.” 

Lilah grinned. Her daughter was fascinated with the little british mannerisms Tom and Harry carried, and both brothers were more than willing to play-up their accents. It was no great surprise that they had taken it a step further and had a tea party with her toddler. Lilah's heart swelled at the thought, her cheeks turning crimson. Worries of William had fallen behind her for the time being, and a gentle happiness returned to her heart. 

Zendaya smiled, seeing the soft switch in Lilah. They’d been friends for years, even prior to their entry in the MCU, but things with William had really taken a toll on Lilah; even before she had filed for divorce. Zendaya was glad to see that happiness hadn’t completely abandoned her. 

"It's lively in here today." Jake smiled when he came in, his entrance just barely heard over Lilah and Zendaya. 

For the first time in days, Lilah smiled fully and authentically; dimples carving into her cheeks that had begun to ache from laughing so hard. She felt tetherless, for the first time in weeks like absolutely nothing was holding her down.

The makeup artists finished up on her shortly after Jake came in. She smiled thickly at both of her co-stars, standing up from the makeup chair with a gentle groan, wincing at the way her thighs had stuck to the seat. 

“Alright. See you later.” She waved, laughing softly when Jake insisted on kissing her head before she left to find Tom. 

— ☆ —

When Lilah walked into her trailer, she smiled seeing Tom asleep on the couch. His shoes had been kicked off, and it looked like he had tried to throw a blanket over himself before he fell asleep. She couldn’t blame him, it was only slightly past eight in the morning.  

She had picked up her costume on the way back to her trailer, and without making too much noise, she slipped past Tom and Grace to change. On her way to the bathroom, she fixed the blanket over Tom’s naked shoulders, grinning at the way he subconsciously curled into the soft cotton. 

Acting was an escape for Lilah. She’d started when she was only young, through musicals and local commercial auditions, and somehow, she’d gotten her chance. 

"Oh, hey." Tom yawns, sitting up on the couch, dropping the blanket into his lap. Lilah smiled amusedly at him, offering a shy smile and a wave. 

She sits down opposite Tom, picking up the sides that had been half-heartedly highlighted the previous night. “Thanks for watching her.” She diverts her attention to the lines she knows three times over, avoiding Tom’s heavy stare on her. “It’s just, she was meant to be with William, and things came up for him. Everything was so last minute, and I couldn’t find anyone--”

“It’s no problem, Li. If you need someone for tomorrow, I’m free.” Tom disregarded Lilah’s babbling, reaching forward to squeeze her knee. He hated when she got like this; so inwardly shy and ashamed of her life.

 He wished she had at least a small understanding of how admirable and strong she truly is. She doesn’t see herself the way he sees her, though, and it tears him apart inside. 

This was Lilah. His sweet best friend that was losing herself in a divorce. She’s really just a kid, but she’s got her own child to worry about before herself, and Tom worries. He wonders when the last time somebody looked out for her was. Tom wanted to help her in any way that he could, but he didn’t want to overwhelm her. He knew what this could look like. Like, he was trying to make a move while she was at her lowest, but that’s not the reality of his intentions at all. 

"That would be really helpful." Lilah shyly admits, tempted to throw her arms around Tom and let herself melt into his chest, but she barely restrains herself, settling for squeezing at his hand that still rests on her thigh. "Are you sure that's how you want to spend your day off? What about Harry?"

Lilah hates burdening others with Grace, especially her friends. She’s suffered enough scrutiny from the media, not even to begin on her own amplified concerns and anxieties towards parenting.

"I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't sure. She's an angel, Li." Tom smiled, nodding towards Grace who is still sound asleep in the pack-n-play. He searches Lilah’s eyes, finding gentle flicks of yellow twisted into green. 

Lilah’s eyes are his new favorite color.

"Thank you. For everything." Lilah reaches forward, hugging Tom and relishing in the way his arms wrap tightly around her middle. Tom doesn’t make any objections to Lilah’s affection, wishing he could hold her like this every day. 

He doesn’t know what he feels for Lilah, but he knows she belongs in his arms, and he never wants to let her go. 

taglist (urls with a strike through won’t let my tag) →

@deionswannabegirl @killingbxys @mauvesdior @mischiefandi @dmonchld @waddlenut @tanakaslastbraincell @hollandsxheart @quacksonhehe @tothemoonandbackx3000 @stiles-o-dylan24 @tikapollak @tomthetease @spookybooisa @geminiparkers @teen–marvel @rogersparkerbarnes @sarcasticallywitty15 @anapocalypseinmymind @stillmanicc @sonnydoesrandomshit @buckybarnesbiiitch @itsbieberxholland @lmaotshollandd @spideyspeaches @stillmanicc @mymilliefrommarketing @jess-holland23 @sararora11 @sambucky8 @cosmiccaptian @spideysensesl @lillucyandthejets @strawberrytom @thollandstuff @lharrietg @hollandswife @brisildadauti @themaddies-obx @hmw696

#tom holland #tom holland x ofc #tom holland x original character #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom hollland fluff #tom holland series #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #dad!tom holland

[paversandplatters]

||𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚙|| (5/20)

Apocalypse! Au (TW! Minor gore and cussing)

Reader x multiple

Chapter 5: A Flock Found

They pack a wheel barrow to the brim with the newly acquired supplies they find not botheringing to leave behind much of anything, making sure to cop the twenty five gallon container of gasoline from the tool shed out back behind the building... Lord knows they'll need for the grand task ahead of them. By the time the light in the south western sky began to fade from a light gray to pink over the backwaters of the panhandle they're ready. They slip outside through the rectory's side door and creep single file along the edge of the property. Y/n takes the lead, periodically glancing over her shoulder for any sign of the herd that had crossed the highway or any sign of the group that occupied this space all too recently. She carries a glock with a full magazine just in case. The dusky air gets clammy and cool on the back of the stranger's neck as he follows them to the car. They climb in hurriedly, stowing their provisions in the rear cargo bay. Y/n kicks the engine on as the newcomer clambers into the passenger seat next to her- much to the dismay of the other two- unfolding an old dogeared map.

"They usually stick pretty close to the ocean." He says almost to himself, silently calculating the mileage between them and the gulf. "Probably should start down by Perry or Carwfordville." He senses movement ahead of them through the windshield and glances up in time to see a couple of jagged shadows emerging from the woods about a hundred yards away, drawn to the sound of their engine. Garbled growls can be heard over the drone of crickets. The trace smell of garbage on the breeze, the light and space of the outdoors is almost overwhelming to him. He feels like he's been asleep for a hundred years, locked away in that dank and dirty church- he starts to feel dizzy.

Y/n gooses the accelerator and the SUV lurches away. He sinks into his seat as they roar down the road, swerving to avoid the half dozen or so biters now skulking out of the woods blocking their path. They sideswipe one the creatures, ripping a chunk of its shoulder, splattering fresh gore across the glass of his side window.

"You get used to it." she states after he flinches in disgust. He just stares at the splatter, flecks of bone chips, and a long trail of black bile.

"I don't think anyone can get used to that ..." Nick mutters from the back seat.

Night falls and the darkness deepens behind the trees on either side of the road. Most of the streetlights in this part of the country have gone the same way as the internet or cable TV, so the road only gets darker and darker as they head south towards the steaming thickets and festering swamps of the coastal lowlands. The going is slow, most of the two lanes are crowded with rusted out wreckages ,the carcasses of cars and trucks so old now that the weeds and switchgrass have begun to grow up from their metal endoskeletons. The two young men in the rear breathe heavily, thickly, half asleep while Y/n drives and softly hums some forgotten tune. They had passed the jerky and water around a few minutes ago- their standard fare of supper- and now their bellies growl and their eyelids droop with exhaustion.

"You never gave your name..." His hushed voices rings out from the shotgun seat.

"Hadn't crossed my mind at the time, sorry about that... It's Y/n" She chuckles softly. "The one with the headband is Nick but goes by Sapnap, don't ask i don't know- the other one with the accent is George." he just simply hums in reply.

"What about you big guy? What do they call you?"

He takes a moment to regard the woman seated next to him; his head still trying to wrap itself around this complete stranger who's shown him nothing but kindness. On the one hand, she seems trustworthy enough, friendly, a good listener, courteous and capable of single handedly taking out an entire chapel full of reanimated corpses... On the other hand she seems like a walking time bomb. He'd seen her type before- they type that's too kind until something or someone breaks that trust. A hairline trigger. The sad fact is he doesn't have a large array of options. Staying in that hellhole of a church with those enslavers, listening to the groans of the dead, waiting for whatever those bastards would do next quickly loses its charm... Seeing the aftermath of her cleaning house with that knife had given him an odd charge- a cathartic release. He's also aware that he'd never be able to find the caravan on his own given the sorry state he's in. He really has no choice but to go along with her and her scruffy ass men and hope for the best.

"I don't have a name.. that is, one that I can remember.."

She desperately wants to pry, how could he not remember his own name? But the thousand yard stare and glassy gaze is enough to stop her from inquiring any further. "Well we've gotta call you something big guy." She's met with silence in response. "Alright, I guess Big Guy it is then." He offers only a meek hum in response. In an attempt to silence his own raging thoughts his eyes landed on the red bandanna tied to the rearview mirror for what was probably the hundredth time since he started on this way too long car ride.

"... What's that about?" He points to the red scarf.

"It belonged to a friend of mine a long while back, before Sapnap and George were a thing." Her hands tighten their hold on the wheel. "I was caught by 'traders' and he was stuck in the same hole as me... Couldn't have been any older than fourteen at the time. One night the compound was under attack, their front gate was breached- luckily we were kept at the very back end, so when the opportunity came we managed to escape our holding cell and I hoisted him over the wall. Told him to keep running, to not look back. He got away but I was caught again," She takes in a deep breath before resuming her story.

"I was quickly sold off to some asshole who had these two chained up for breaking into their stores... one thing led to another and we snuck out and snagged this ride... we've been moving around since." It was obvious by her tone there was a lot she was leaving out and probably for a good reason. Notably the two in the back seat were dead silent, so much so that it made the air feel heavy and dense enough to cut with a sharp enough knife. Suddenly he was wishing he hadn't bothered to ask in the first place

"That sign back there," He manages, desprate to break the heavy air "Said 'Cross city 12 miles" He glances up from the map in his lap, gazing out the side window at the stewing darkness of Dixie County Florida. "Got a feeling we're getting close."

The vast patchwork of wetlands passes in a blur on either side of them. The land oozing a low blanket of methane as gray as mold, clinging to the shadows of pine thickets and gullies like dirty lace. The air smells briny and rotten with dead fish. Every few minutes they pass the ruins of a small town or wreckage strewn trailer parks. No sign of survivors in these parts, though only the occasional silhouette of an upright corpse shambling by, it's eyes like twin yellow reflectors in the darkness.

"We can't just keep burning gas all night." Sapnap says from his place in the rear, his voice all cranked up with pain and panic "and we can't just go off of what you overheard those traders talking about- Much less go off of feelings.." Big guy just keeps a neural face.

"We're in the ballpark" He persists "Believe me they'll be hard to miss." Y/n grips the steering wheel, her jaw working overtime on a piece of gum, snapping and chewing complusively as she drives.

"How many vehicles do they have in this convoy?" George questions between wheezy breaths.

"No idea... but it's quite a few ."

"That's pretty general."

"They'll be easy to spot." He replies once more, gazing back out at the darkness. "Our best bet is to follow the coast, they like to keep close to the water.."

"Why's that?"

He shrugs. "According to those 'traders' they keep their eyes peeled for ships or any possible way they might get their asses the hell out of here. Most of the bigger boats around here have been destroyed by the hurricane that hit a couple years ago, so it's a long shot that they'll find anything..."

They're about to give up the search when they start to climb the gentle slope- at first so gradual it's almost unnoticeable - up the side of a vast malodorous landfill- the barren trash-strewn scrubland to their left reaches across miles of sandy berms, all the way down to the deserted ghostly boardwalks that wind their way along the beaches. The sky has begun to bruise pink with predawn light and Y/n has just started to say something when the Big Guy sees the first faint streaks of red dots in the distant haze.

"LOOK!" He points his large gnarled hand down at the far dunes of ashen white sand winding along the coast. The surface is so pocked and windswept it resembles the dark side of the moon.

"Where?" She cranes her neck, slowing the vehicle down to a crawl.

"I don't see anything."

"About Half a mile up there... Look at the tail lights!"

She takes a deep cleansing breath as she finally sees the caravan chugging along the coastal road in the predawn light, it looks like embers throwing up puffs of smoke in their wake.

"Holy shit, I see it." A big smile washes over her face, Glad she decided to follow through with this insane plan.

"What do you think of those boys?" The two young men in the rear lean forward, transfixed by the sight, each of them rapt and silent as they gaze at the convoy.

"What are you doing?! Blaster your horn at them," George stutters anxiously. "Don't let them get away !"

Y/n smiles to herself, in her former life she used to be fascinated by the wildlife shows, often catching them in the late night showings after work before she turning in for the night. She remembers one episode in particular, on the behavior of sheep vs the behavior of wolves. She remembers the flock mentality; the sheep moving almost as one, easily managed by a single sheepdog. She remembers the instinct of the Wolf, stealthy, patient as it and its pack creep up on the flock. She shoots a glance across the dark interior at the larger man sat next to her before turning her head to face the two sat behind them.

"I have a better idea."

Taglist

@the-wandering-pan-ace @hvrcruxes

#dsmp x reader #dream x y/n #dsmp tubbo #ranboo #sapnap x y/n #techno x reader #tommyinnit #dream smp x reader #dsmp #dsmp techno #georgenotfound #georgenotfound x y/n #philza x reader #the behavior of sheep

[harieltaj]

Your mother has convinced her friends to bring their kids over, "for a get-together," she says. "Give the kids a chance to know themselves."

You listen as she makes the call, the date is set and you pray they get food or get in an accident so you don't have to see or interact with them. You flash her a smile when she tells you you're going to love Nduka, her best friend's son. You pray Nduka gets sick, or falls into a well and isn't rescued until the day after the get-together. You realize you're being mean, so you pray the trailer falls on you instead, or you fall into a well and aren't found until the event is over.

You're a pretty girl with large brown eyes. Emeka the potter said it makes you look cute and that was when he kissed you. Inside his room that smelt of burnt clay, you let him fondle your breast. But then you had to leave because your mom had called. That was the last time you saw or spoke to Emeka. He left for his uncle's place in Onitsha and changed his number.

You're short and your petite height is just an added feature to your overflowing beauty. If only you knew Bankole spent all his time reading poems and trying to write one, maybe you'd have been able to see through his bluff and refuse him the chance to place his warm mouth on your breasts. You didn't know and the next time you saw him, he told you he got a message from the Lord; you're not it for him.

Your small mouth is beautiful and your cocoa-colored skin is a work of art drove you to Hassan's hand. It was the accent he spoke with, your belief that love knew no religion or tribe, and the way he paid attention to your every word that made you fall for him. He had the brightest eyes and all these dreams he wanted you to be part of. But then, he had to go abroad and you broke when he told you not to wait for him.

Your sense of fashion is explicable and enviable, the way you let your skirt stop just before your knee is an art only goddesses can achieve. You are a goddess. Vanessa was the best friend you've ever had. Everyone compared her to pawpaw, so yellow and edible. Same height and you both had a great connection; it would have been weird if you didn't end up as friends. She was your hype woman. She cared about you as you did her. Then you walked into Gideon's house, the boy you were dating, and found them tangled in the sheets, going at it like spent swimmers.

Bose was quite the sympathetic soul. She cursed Vanessa and Gideon on your behalf and shut down any attempt they made to talk to you. You were grateful for her; she was heaven sent. Your money ran out quicker than water in the desert. You had to buy for two. She guilt-tripped you whenever you didn't buy for her or said you were broke. She reminded you, in case you suffered amnesia every now and then, that your parents were well to do whereas hers put the poor in poverty. When you didn't give her the money she had asked for, she called you a bad person and told you to prepare yourself because there was no way hell would pass by you. And when you get to hell, because you would, she won't give you a drop of water even if Father Abraham begs her to. She slammed the door after saying you deserved every heartbreak you got.

Samson was your strength. He told you he admired the way you held your head high. He said you were the strongest person he knew because after having your heart broken and used like that, you still put on a brave front and smiled like you didn't have the weight of the world on your shoulders. He said you were a hero and with so much sincerity in his eyes, he said you reminded him so much of his mom. Boys preferred women who reminded them of their mom, everyone said so. You felt like you've hit a gold mine. He was the one for you, but you held out just in case. You gave it up when he told you he loved you in a way only writers could describe.

It was in his apartment. He had kissed you with so much intensity that shook your knees and the only witness was the blue bulb that tried to light up the tiny room. He had raised you up and placed you on the table which, happily, was wood. Plastic wouldn't have been able to support the wave of intensity that was crashing through you. The way his tongue invaded every corner of your mouth made your body go wild. His lips were on your neck suffocating every reasonable thought you could form. He nibbled dedicatedly on your neck, writers would say he was marking you as his. You could still remember thinking that he was about to turn you to a vampire, a clear sign that he was in it for the long haul.

Then he pulled away and kissed you even harder on the lips if only bulbs could narrate. You felt everything he wanted to say. He was in between your legs and your shirt was hitched really high. Your bodies were pressed together and he had one hand on your cheek, holding your face to him, while the other made miracles on your nipple.

He pulled away and placed his forehead on yours. Both of his hands rested on your face and you exchanged air. You watched his eyes close as he struggled to catch his breath. He swallowed a lot and you knew he was trying to control himself. His eyes opened and you felt trapped in the want and love that resided in them. There was lust, plea, and something else. He opened his mouth to say something and shut it back up. You're breathing heavily, anticipating his words, and then finally, he spoke.

"Somto, I love you. I really do. The thought of you consumes me so much that it actually hurts. I can't function without you; you're invading my thoughts."

Your heartbeat could be featured as drums in punk rock. He kissed you, and by Aphrodite, you couldn't form a thought that didn't involve sex. Romance authors should see you; you finally found your prince charming. He unclasped your bra and you whisper his name.

"Samson."

His hand was out from your shirt and resting on your waist. He brushed his lips against yours.

"I need you. Please, don't make me stop."

How many times have you read those words wishing they'd be said to you? Like the million characters you've read about, you gave your book worthy reply.

"I don't want you to."

Your shirt came off as did his. Soon, you were going at it like cavemen. Not on the table, goodness no, Samson couldn't afford to replace it if you ended up breaking it. On his small bed, you gave yourself to him. Funny, the romance books didn't mention that he would cut all forms of connections from you. Maybe they did and you didn't read that part. You were confused and hurt, even more, when you found out it was all a bet and he didn't know his mother. He grew up in an orphanage.

Your self-esteem gave way for insecurity. There had to be something wrong with you. Maybe a curse that made people want to hurt and abandon you. There was no sunshine in your world and gloom and darkness lead you on. You couldn't trust anyone. You faked and pretended your way through it all. at school, premarital hell was condemned. At church, you were announced a candidate of hell. At home, your mother condemned the girls whose stories came out. You could barely breathe.

You're sitting in the dining room and everywhere is packed. Your mom's friends and their kids have arrived. You're watching them talk and exchange pleasantries. The girls in your age grade are sitting close to you at the dining table chatting, but you don't join in. You have your eyes on your siblings, both boys, watching them play host. They're talking with boys and flirting with girls and being cute with kids. One of the girls says the younger boy, the one you're older than, is cute. You say nothing, you smile. You don't tell her he has plans to be a priest because something about people didn't work well with him. The glass of orange juice feels like royalty as you pay it all your attention.

You hear your name and you find your mother and her best friend beckoning for you. You walk over to them, a fake smile in place. Your mother tells you he's here. She points to the young man standing with your older brother. Your mother hands you a mirror and you stare at your twenty-three-year-old face and wonder when the pimples showed up.

Your mother hurries you to him, her and her friend dishing out instructions. You catch only one.

"Be yourself. Nduka doesn't like pretenders."

As you make your way to him, you know Nduka isn't going to love you so much. You search your head for who you truly are. You push past your demons and personalities and you find her sitting by the corner, her knees to her chest, her hands wrapped tightly around her knees. She's crying and hoping the walls she had built won't crumble. She doesn't want to get hurt again. Your brother smiles as you reach them.

As he introduces you to Nduka, you reach for your charming personality and slip it on. Your brother comes up with an excuse and leave. You see your mothers grinning.

"I'm Nduka," he says even though you just been introduced. You flash him a smile and shake his outstretched hand.

"I'm Somto."

When your hands connect, you see her raise her head. Your personalities are thrilled as they rush around prepping to be slipped on. She shakes her head furiously and your personalities are asking her to shut it. She's refusing the idea of him and in your head, you hear her recite her mantra about how she can't take another hurt. You tell her you understand. She doesn't have to worry.

Nduka smiles at you and you smile back. You already know this is a fruitless venture, this wasn't going to lead anywhere. As Nduka tells you the reason you haven't been seeing him around was that he was abroad. You tell her it's okay.

Not today, not ever.

#writers #writing #writers on tumblr #my writing #story #short fiction #Talesfromaboredmind #writeblr