#No one ever talks about that bit. Sting wrote(?) and sang it and no one talks about it.

[hollowtones]

Having an awful brain blast moment tonight. I remember fucking none of "The Emperor's New Groove" from when I saw it as a youngun. Rewatched it tonight. Realized that, as a kid, I assumed Pacha and Kronk were supposed to be the same guy in different clothes. If you assume this is true it makes the plot kind of hard for a child to follow.

[lottiebagley]

Happy Together

I really recommend listening to Happy Together by Gerard Way while you read this xx

*****  Fred sat on his bed watching as she moved around his empty dorm, fixing her hair and makeup and redressing. They were in no way official all though neither of them was seeing anyone else. The problem was that she was in Ron's little group and the drama that came with their relationship didn't feel worth it to Fred. That's what he had told her when she has asked and she had to force herself to not let the comment hurt. He hadn't meant that she wasn't worth it even if that's how it sounded and felt, he simply meant that he'd rather just be together in private and not have everyone talking and looking.

"So, we should talk about the ball," He comments, he had no right to dictate who she went with, she wasn't his girlfriend, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try.

"What about it?" she questions, stepping into her skirt, needing to be ready to head to the library to study with Hermione in 5 minutes.

"Well, obviously we can't go together," he comments, she tries her hardest to ignore the sting in her chest. She thought that now, after six months of seeing each other he would finally come around to letting their relationship be public.

"Obviously," she states, Fred is immediately cocking his head to the side, immediately noticing the slightly hurt look on his face.

"But I don't want you going with just anyone," he adds, she turns to look at him, re-buttoning her shirt and she easily catcher her tie when he throws it to her.

"What's your point here, Freddie?" she questions, hands rolling her skirt up to make it shorter as she scans the ground for her school jumper.

"We should pick each others dates," he decides, he figured the raging jealousy he feels in his chest every time a boy even looks at her will hurt a lot less if he gets to pick her date.

"No," she speaks in a harsh tone causing him to look abruptly "If you're embarrassed of me and don't think I'm worth arguing with your little brother that's fine-"

"Hey, you know that's never ever been why I wanted to keep us private. I'd argue with Ron every day for the rest of my life for you and I am the furthest thing from embarrassed of you," he protests, his heart hurts that she ever thought that's how he felt.

"If you don't want to take me to the ball that's fine Fred, but you don't get to dictate who I go with. If someone asks and I like them I'll say yes," she announces, he looks slightly dumbfounded as he stares at her, tugging her jumper over her head and moving towards the door and slipping out of his room without another word. His usual quick kiss goodbye gone.

Fred knew that so far three boys had asked her to the ball, the same boys had coincidentally all ended up pranked in some way, shape or form. He knew she has turned them all down. He also knew that Dean Thomas was planning on asking her and that her friends often teased her for fancying him, unaware she was seeing Fred. Supposedly she had fancied him since their second year, at least that's when the teasing began.

With this on his mind and a worry that Dean Thomas was going to come in and swoop the girl he was pretty sure he was in love with away from him, he rushed to change and exit the room to find Lee and George, if he was going to ask her to the ball it needed to be big and public. It needed to rid her mind of any thought that he was ashamed or embarrassed of her.

**

Fred Weasley didn't get nervous, but standing outside the great hall two day's later, knowing the rest of the school were eating breakfast he couldn't help it.

When he had explained what was happening to the boys, George had come up with the idea that Fred should write her a song and perform it at breakfast. Fred was a good singer and between the three of them surely they could pull something together. So, for 48 hours the boys wrote a song, added Lee and George some backing vocals and a bit of dodgy looking choreography, enchanted a load of instruments to play the music and now it was time.

"Ready Fred?" George questions walking towards him from inside the hall, having managed to load the instruments into the hall and his them around before breakfast had started. Fred nods, glancing to his brother.

The twins enter the hall, Lee immediately grabbing his wand ready to enchant the instruments to begin playing from his seat next to Angelina. Fred takes a deep breath, marching towards the table and jumping onto it. Immediately, the whole hall is looking at him

"Mr Weasley, get down from the table this instant!" Professor McGonnogall begins to scold

"I will get down, just give me one minute. There's something I have to do," he announces.

He's vaguely aware of Harry and Ron laughing opposite the girl who is watching with curiosity.

The instruments start and Lee and George climb onto the table behind him. The minute he makes eye contact with her she starts to blush, knowing whatever is coming is about her.

'Imagine me and you I do I think about you day and night It's only right To think about the girl you love And hold her tight So happy together'

He starts singing, aware the whole school are watching as he walks down the table towards her. Ron and Harry are looking around wildly, trying to work out who in the world he could be singing too, Hermione is sat with a knowing smirk on her face next to her best friend who is blushing wildly but sat with a small smile on her face. George and Lee follow him up the table, supposedly doing backing vocals but acting more like hype men.

"MR WEASLEY! GET DOWN NOW!" Snape is shouting loudly but is shushed by the other teachers, everyone seemingly enjoying the performance, there's an air of intrigue in the hall, people wondering who it's all for.

If I should call you up Invest a dime And you say you belong to me And ease my mind Imagine how the world could be So very fine So happy together

His singing continues and he's so close to her now that he can hear her giggling mixing with the rest of the laughs and cheers in the hall. He steps over a serving plate of pancakes, smirking when she catches eye contact with him and blushes even more, looking at her lap and letting out a laugh, biting on her lip to stop herself from smiling.

I can't see me lovin' nobody but you For all my life When you're with me Baby the skies'll be blue For all my life

George and Lee add in some ooo's as he sings. He finally arrives directly in front of her. Smirking at the loud gasp that leaves Ron's mouth at the realisation it's his friend being sang to. Ginny lets out an excited squeal from a few seats down as she loves the girl, chatter and laughter fill the hall as they all realised exactly who this all for, more than a few girls feeling jealous of the entire thing.

Me and you And you and me No matter how they toss the dice It had to be The only one for me is you And you for me So happy together

The excited chatter get's impossibly louder as Fred begins to join in with George and Lee's ridiculous dance moves, smiling when he hears the laughter she lets out, vaguely aware of Ron's demands that she can not date his brother and Hermione telling him to shut up. Even the Slytherins are enjoying the show, despite it being a Weasley, and are laughing and dancing along with the rest of the school.

I can't see me lovin' nobody but you For all my life When you're with me Baby the skies'll be blue For all my life Me and you And you and me No matter how they toss the dice It had to be The only one for me is you And you for me So happy together

Loud cheers erupt from the hall when he holds out his hand when he jumps from the table squeezing into the small space between her and Hermione, who shuffles up the bench to make space for him, his arm wraps around her shoulder as she laughs looking at him, eyes shining with happiness as she smiles and he feels his heart melt at the sight of her looking so at ease at his side, he squeezes her tighter to him as he continues to sing, taking a look at George and Lee who are now doing some kind of two person robot Mexican wave, clearly improvising.

Me and you And you and me No matter how they toss the dice It had to be The only one for me is you And you for me So happy together

He leaps back onto the table, extending a hand to her that she takes with slight apprehension in her eyes, allowing him to tug her up onto the table behind him. She laughs as he spins her around, dipping her and twirling her over the table, enjoying the little giggle she lets out. If it were anyone else she'd never have taken their hand but something about Fred made her feel so comfortable that she would go wherever he asked.

So happy together How is the weather So happy together We're happy together So happy together Happy together So happy together So happy together

The song draws to a close and with his hands on her hips he tugs her towards him, she smirks up at him as he beams down

"How is the weather?" she questions

"Not a lot rhymes with together and I had to act quick before someone else swept you off your feet," he shrugs, she giggles, vaguely aware that the whole school is watching them

"So what do you say? Go to the ball with me?" he suddenly seems to loose all his confidence

"Of course I will," she smiles. He grins brightly and crashes his lips to hers, unbothered that the whole school is watching, the hall erupts in cheers that he's pretty sure is started by Dumbledore himself.

She pulls away after a few seconds, aware of the whole school watching

"Did you notice that I said I love you?" he questions, a whisper unheard by anyone but her amongst the cheering

"I did," she confirms

"Cause I do, love you I mean,"

"I love you too Fred," she beams, pressing another chaste kiss to his lips before hopping down from the table and he follows, falling into the seat next to her.

"You can't date Y/N. She's my friend and you can not just come along and steal my frien-" Ron begins his protest but Harry slaps him round the back of the head, effectively silencing him as the hall returns to normal.

"And that boys," Fred starts, glancing between the dateless Harry and Ron "is how you ask a girl to the yule ball,"

"Got one of the good ones," George remarks, falling into the seat opposite Fred

"I got the best one," Fred corrects, smiling at the blush flushing her cheeks and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

**

Masterlist

[mattmurdocksscars]

Just A Dream

Some Santiago angst with a hopeful ending. Might do a follow-up to this one, not too sure yet. This is based on and uses a cover of the song Just a Dream. I love this cover so much and I hope you enjoy it as well! 

Fair warning, I totally wrote this in one go so if there are grammar issues, spelling issues, etc. I’m sorry 😂

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x Reader

Word Count: 2508

It didn’t matter that it had been over 2 years since the last time you saw Santiago Garcia, you still missed him every day. He had been your everything, the one you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with… but then he’d told you he was going to Columbia. The two of you had fought bitterly. You, wondering why you weren’t enough to keep him here, and him, wondering why you wouldn’t let him do this one last mission. Words of anger had poured from both of your lips, wounding the other easier than a blade or bullet ever could. Santi had slept on the couch that night and was gone by the time you woke in the morning. You had instantly regretted the words you’d said, the feeling intensified by his refusal to answer your calls or texts. You found out from Frankie that he had left immediately for the airport and was already in the air by the time you’d found him gone. Frankie had then held you as you’d broken down, angry and broken over the fact that he hadn’t given you a chance to fix things.

So, for over two years, you missed him. You saw him in strangers on the streets or in coffee shops. You looked for him in every vaguely familiar face you passed. Yet never once was he there. Santiago would contact Frankie occasionally, but never you. You would ask Frankie to pass a message along for you whenever he spoke to Santiago, but it was never answered. Santiago would simply gloss over it. It broke you down, turned you into a shell of the woman you used to be. It took Frankie, Will, and Benny finally sitting you down and giving you tough love for you to snap out of it. You still missed him, oh did you miss him, but you started doing the things you loved again. You started spending time with the boys again and even made some new friends.

When Frankie told you that Santiago was back in town to recruit him and the other boys for some recce, you had waiting with bated breath, hoping he would reach out or swing by. He never did and the five men left to complete one more mission together. When Frankie called you on his way back into the country, you had cried in relief and in sadness. Tom and you had never really gotten along, but he was important to the other boys. You knew that Santiago would be blaming himself, knew that Frankie, Will, and Benny would be too. You met them in the airport when they came back, crying again when you saw the three boys who had become like brothers to you. Despite your joy at seeing them, your heart still didn’t feel whole. Santiago was nowhere to be found and when you had turned inquisitive eyes to Frankie, he had simply sighed and shook his head. Santiago was still not coming home.

You buried yourself in distractions. You worked, taking overtime whenever possible, spent time with the boys, started going out with your new friends. They’d convinced you to start meeting with them every Saturday night and then eventually convinced you to sing karaoke with them. You were no star, but you could carry a tune and had a decent voice and you found that singing was an incredible way to release all of your pent-up emotions. The boys had even come to see you a few times, cheering you on obnoxiously loudly. It was one such night, that your whole world flipped upside down.

Frankie had text you earlier that day to tell you that Santiago was back in town. Your hands had shaken as you texted him back, asking him the same question you always did: Will he talk to me? Frankie was honest, told you that he wasn’t sure, but he would try. When you didn’t hear anything further from him, you continued with your usual ritual of getting ready and heading to the bar with your friends. You lost yourself in the music, singing a few songs with your friends and on your own. It was as you were getting ready for a solo that you looked up and everything stopped. Entering the bar was the boys, one Santiago Garcia in tow. Your name was called, and your attention snapped over to the announcer, your heart pounding as you remembered your song choice. Wiping your sweaty hands on your jeans, you walked up and took the mic, the crowd cheering you on. You took a deep breath and smiled, determined to force the knowledge of Santi being in the same room as you for the first time to the back of your mind. The music started, a piano medley to begin, and you closed your eyes, waiting on your time to come in.

I was thinkin about you, thinkin about me

Thinkin about us, what we gonna be?

Open my eyes

It was only just a dream

Travel back, down that road

Will you come back? No one knows

I realize, it was only just a dream

Opening your eyes, the lights helped blind you to the audience, helping you forget just who was watching you. Swaying gently, you poured your heart into the performance.

I was at the top and now it’s like I'm in the basement

Number one spot and now you found your own replacement

I swear now that I can't take it, knowing somebody's got my baby

And now you ain't around, baby I can't think

You sang through the rest of the verse and the chorus with no problems, but the start of the second verse had your eyes stinging as you fought back tears.

When I be ridin, And I swear I see your face at every turn

I'm trying to get my usher on, but I can't let it burn

And I just hope you know that you're the only one I yearn for

More and more I miss him, when will I learn?

Didn't give it all my love

I guess now I got my payback

Now I'm in the club thinking all about you baby

Hey, you were so easy to love

But wait, I guess our love wasn't enough

I'm goin through it every time that I'm alone

And now I'm wishing that you'd pick up the phone

But you made a decision that you wanted to move on

Cuz I was wrong

It took every bit of strength in you to make it through the verse without crying. This part had always hit you so hard, feeling it so strongly due to what had happened in yours and Santiago’s relationship. Singing through the second chorus, you took a deep breath as you headed into the third verse, opening your eyes again to look out at the crowd. They were like shadows to you but even still, you would recognize your boys anywhere. Forcing your eyes away from them and back to the main crowd, you slowly raised one of your hands.

If you ever loved somebody put your hands up

If you ever loved somebody put your hands up

And now they're gone and you're wishing you could give them everything

Said if you ever loved somebody put your hands up

If you ever loved somebody put your hands up

Now they're gone and you're wishing you could give them everything

You drug the last word of the verse out, adding your own flair as you always did. Singing the last two chorus, you continued to adjust it and put every ounce of heartbreak and longing you had into it. As your last note faded out and the music finished, you were greeted with thunderous applause. Laughing in shock, you quickly gave the mic back to the announcer and headed back over to your friends. They were ecstatic, congratulating you and telling you about how this was the best one you’d done yet. You grinned, blushing at their praise.

“Hey! Aren’t those your other friends? Who’s the cute new guy with them?” And just like that, your good mood tanked. You looked over at their table, Benny waving enthusiastically at you as he always did, and turned back to your friends before the others could look over.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s them. Umm.. you remember me telling you about my ex?”

“Yeah, the jackass that left you after a fight and has been gone for two… years… Fuck.” Realization had dawned on the groups face and you smiled tentatively at them. Immediately, an arm was wrapped around your shoulders and you were pulled roughly, but lovingly, into one of the girls’ sides.

“Fuck him. If he thinks he can just walk back into your life after the shit he put you through, he’s dead wrong.” Ah yes. That was Zoe. Fiercely protective, she was like a sister to you. Taking a deep breath, you patted her hand that was on your shoulder.

“Relax. Let’s just enjoy the rest of the night and I’ll deal with it later.” You told her softly. She looked at you, checking to make sure you were actually alright, before nodding. With a mischievous grin, she flagged down your waitress and ordered the two of you shots, much to your amusement. When they arrived, she handed you yours and held hers aloft. You matched her action and clinked the glasses together, tapped them on the table, and tossed yours back.

“To a good rest of the night.” She told you and you grinned, nodding in agreement. For the first time ever, you never went over to the boys’ table. You stayed with your friends but despite your best efforts, you couldn’t stop your eyes wandering every now and then. The first time you caught Santi’s eye, your breath caught in your chest as you tried to figure out what to do but Santi solved it for you, tipping his head and giving you a tentative smile. You had taken a deep breath and given him a shaky smile before your friends had called your attention back to them.

The two of you spend the rest of the night like that. Sneaking glances at the other and looking away shortly after locking eyes. A part of you so desperately wanted to cross the bar and jump into Santiago’s arms, but a bigger part of you was afraid and a little angry. Your friends were right to an extent. He didn’t deserve to just waltz back into your life. You also had no idea if that was even what he wanted. For all you knew, he had moved on.

As the night came to an end, you helped your friends out and got them into their rides safe and sound. Watching the last one leave, you took a deep breath and let it out. Closing your eyes, you stood in the darkness for a few moments but jumped as a voice broke the silence.

“It’s pretty dangerous to stand outside of a bar this late at night, you know.” Every muscle in your body locked up, your spine going ramrod straight, and your breathing halting. Walking towards you was Santiago, hands shoved into his pockets. You stared at him wide-eyed for several seconds, giving him time to approach you and stand across from you. His eyes flitted over your form, seeming to drink you in. It gave you time to get your brain back online and formulate a response.

“Luckily for me, I know three knuckleheads who would kick the ass of anyone who tried to hurt me.” You told him. It was your turn to let your gaze wander over him, and you were surprised when he seemed to be hurt by what you said.

“Just three?” He asked you, voice soft and questioning. Your eyebrows shot up and you stared at him in shock before you furrowed your brows, a spark of anger igniting in your chest.

“You tell me, Santiago.” This time he actually flinched, the use of his full name causing him to look down at his boots. You watched his jaw clench, and it was so hard to keep yourself from reaching out to comfort him. You shoved your traitorous hands into your own pockets and continued to stare at him, waiting for his response. He took a deep breath and dragged his gaze to up to meet yours and you were shocked at the amount of emotion in them.

“I’m sorry. I never should have left the way I did. I regretted it the second that plane took off, but I was too much of a coward to fix my mistake.  Every time I called Frankie, I hoped he would give me an update on you-“

“So why the hell didn’t you call me?” You asked, voice wavering as you felt the past two years’ worth of hurt boil over, tears slipping down your cheeks. The pain on your face was mirrored on Santi’s as he watched you break down, his own tears welling up.

“I knew if I heard your voice, heard how much I had hurt you… nothing would have stopped me from coming back to you but I… I was afraid. How was I supposed to face you after leaving like I did?”

“So what? You think you can just come back after over two years and think all is forgiven?”

“No! I… I want you to give me a chance. I’m not asking for things to go back to the way they were. I’m asking you to let me win you over again. Let me spend every day making it up to you and proving to you that I will never leave you again.” His stare bored into yours, both of you crying now. You looked at him and you saw all of the pain you’d been through in his absence, but you also saw the potential you’d always seen. A bright future, one full of love. Taking a deep, steadying breath you stepped closer to him. Pulling your hands out of your pockets you reached for his, tugging them out of his pockets and holding them. Looking down at them, you marveled how they fit in yours like they used to.

“One chance, Garcia. One. Don’t make me regret it.” Santiago immediately tugged you into his arms, holding you close to him. You clung to him just as tight before pulling away slowly. You put one hand on his cheek, running your thumb over his skin, before stepping back. You nodded to him and smiled.

“You better come at this with your A game. I expect nothing less.” Pressing a kiss to his other cheek, you let your hand fall and turned away, walking away from him, and feeling lighter than you had since before he left.

“I will, mi alma. I swear it.” He whispered, watching you walk away and feeling like he might finally be righting his wrongs.

[mammonshuman92]

- Sapphire -

(Mammon x MC)

| part two | part three |

NOTE: F!MC

It’s here, in the endless sapphire pools, that I could get lost swimming, forever. The sheer power that they hold over me is otherworldly, and to be honest, quite unfair.

“MC! Are you listening?” Satan was looking at you with slight irritation, closing his book. The two of you have been studying for an upcoming test in the common room since you got home from RAD.

You jumped a little, abruptly interrupted from your daydream.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry. I guess I zoned out.” You replied sheepishly. You sat up in your chair, looking at your textbooks trying to regain some kind of memory of what you and Satan had been studying, but it was no use. As of late, there was only ever one thing on your mind. Well, one demon anyway.

“It appears that your mind is elsewhere. Maybe we should take a break and pick it back up after dinner?” he suggested.

You checked the time on your D.D.D., and jumped up from where you sat. Satan looked at you, shocked by your sudden rash behavior.

“Oh, umm.. I can’t tonight, I have a....thing. Tomorrow though?” You rushed around gathering your books and notes into a disorderly pile. Satan looked at you suspiciously. What has gotten into her? He thought.

“Alright. Are you actually going to be present? More than just physically, I mean.”

“Yes, yes. I’m really sorry. Thanks!” You yelled over your shoulder as you ran from the room.

As you rounded the corner of the hallway, you ran right smack into something, sending you and all your books and papers flying. 

Great.

“Oof!” 

That thing you smacked into? Yeah, that was Mammon. You both landed on your butts with a *thud*

“What the Hell are ya runnin’ for?!” He griped, confused as to what had just happened. When he noticed who had run into him and his attitude changed. “MC? What are ya doin'?”

“I’m sorry, Mammon! I didn’t mean to run into you, I’m just in a hurry.” You quickly explained, trying to gather all your papers, again. He grabbed the small bit of papers near him and handed them to you.

“In a hurry for what?” he asked curiously, cocking his head to the side a little.

Shit! He can’t know where I’m going! I need to make an excuse and fast!

“Oh, umm.. I, uh, I-I’m going shopping with Asmo! Yeah.” That should work. He ususally follows you everywhere, especially shopping but once it comes to shopping with you and Asmo? Yeah, he’d rather sit that one out. Although, I’m sure he’ll complain that you’re not hanging out with him anyway.

You quickly grabbed the last bit of papers and took off toward your room without another word to Mammon.

“It’s movie night, ya know?!” He called after you.

“I’m sorry! I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” You yelled hastily, before quickly shutting your door.

“Hmph. Guess I’ll just do movie night by myself then” He pouted, sticking out his bottom lip a little like a small child.

As he turned to go to his room, something caught his eye. 

A piece of paper the two of you had missed. He picked it up and looked it over. 

It’s for sure MC’s handwriting. Is it song lyrics or somethin’?

He shrugged and shoved it into his pocket.

--

“I don’t have time to change, so my RAD uniform will just have to do. I just need to grab my bag, then I can go. Ugh! I’m gonna be late!” You said aloud while darting around your room.

I’m pretty nervous. I’ve never read any of the stuff I write in front of anyone, much less a crowd or people. Maybe I won’t choke since none of the brothers will be there. Could you imagine reading what you wrote in front of HIM?

*Shiver.* No thanks. Pretty sure I would spontaneously combust.

You grab your things and hurriedly rush out of your room. Hopefully I get out of here without being seen. I’m not sure how many lies I can come up with.

As you made your way down the staircase, someone came through the front door.. Dammit! It’s Asmo.

After a quick discussion, you were able to slip away from him.

Checking your D.D.D. for the time, you quickened your pace. “If I hurry I can make it there before the first reading.”

--

Mammon laid sprawled out on the couch in the common room, scrolling through Devilgram. He sighed heavily. “I’m so bored.”

He heard someone talking just outside the doorway.

Is that Asmo?

He went to investigate only to find Asmo walking down the hall with an arm full of shopping bags.

“You guys are back already?” Mammon questioned him. 

“Pardon?” Asmo asked, visibly confused.

“You and MC only left like an hour ago and you’re already back? Are ya sick?”

“Mammon what are going on about? I left to go shopping right after school.”

Huh? She ...lied?

“MC told me she was goin’ shopping with ya and left in a hurry earlier. If she ain’t with you, where’d she go?”

“Maybe she has a date.” Asmo shrugged and headed toward his room. Mammon stood there motionless and shocked like he’d been slapped in the face.

A date? The thought clawed it’s way around his brain. He felt a pang in his chest.

He’s always with her. To and from RAD, after school, through dinner, and until bed. Always together. They’re best friends.

So how did she manage to meet some other demon without him noticing? He started to get antsy and decided to go look for evidence in her room.

He looked everywhere. All over her desk and dresser, he couldn’t find a single shred of information on this mystery demon. Feeling defeated, he flopped across her bed with a groan.

Am I not good enough? I mean, she already spends all her time with me, what’s she need someone else for?

Thoughts of MC being with someone romantically ...intimately, started flooding his mind. He tried to shake it, but they just kept coming. The pain in his chest got worse.

He’s always been fond of her. In the beginning, when she was still new, he acted like it was such a burden to watch over her, but he secretly enjoyed it. There was just something about her. As hard as he tried to fight it, he found himself developing a sweet spot for the human. She’s always so nice and sticks up for him when it comes to his brothers. She always seems happy to see him and is down for whatever crazy money making schemes he can come up with. Before she got here, it had been a long time since he had felt this happy. He’s pretty sure he’s never laughed so much in his entire existence than when he’s with her.

As much as he tries to convince himself that he doesn’t care about the human, he doesn’t want to go back to life without her. Truth is, he cares about her. A lot.

All the thinking was starting to depress him.

He decided to get up and go to his own room and sulk for the rest of the night. Maybe he could stop by Lucifer’s study and sneak off with a bottle of Demonus. 

As he made his way to the door, he noticed something. The little calendar on your desk had a date circled in red. He picked it up to get a closer look. The date circled was today.

“Coffee shop, 6pm”

Boom. Re-con was successful! He found out where your date was!

He put the calendar back on your desk and checked the time. Crap! It’s almost 7.

He bolted from the room. If he had any chance of seeing what kind of punk lesser demon you were on a date with, he needed to hurry.

--

“This has to be it. She only goes to one coffee shop.” Mammon whispered to himself as he tried to peak inside the front window of the establishment. He couldn’t see you anywhere from where he was and decided to go inside and sit at a table in the very back. Maybe she won’t notice me. He thought. 

He scanned the room, but still couldn’t see you anywhere. Maybe she went to the bathroom?

As he kept scanning the room, the lights started to dim and everyone focused their attention to a small stage with a lone microphone at the back of the shop.

Huh?

A light shined on the stage and a man stepped up to the microphone.

“Thank you all for coming, we have a great turn out tonight. Without any further adieu, let’s get open mic night started!” The crowd applauded and the man walked off stage.

"Open mic night? I didn’t know she liked this kinda stuff.” Mammon said quietly to himself.

Maybe that’s why she’s on a date. He probably noticed all the stuff I didn’t. Mammon sat back in his chair, arms crossed across his chest, pouting. She’d never wanna be with an idiot like me anyway.

--

A couple people read poems, one girl sang, and a few people played instruments. Still no sign of MC.

Maybe she does know a different coffee shop. He started to fidget in his seat, mentally kicking himself. You shoulda told her, ya idiot!

How could he though? He is one of the seven rulers of the underworld. How is he supposed to tell a human that she makes his life so much better? That your laugh is like music and his favorite smell is that of your shampoo? That when you fall asleep next to him on the couch on movie night it’s the best night of his week? 

“Our final act of the night is new to the stage and a little nervous, so go easy on her.” said the emcee. The audience started to applaud as the man walked off stage.

Mammon scooted his chair out and stood to leave. She obviously wasn’t here and he needed a drink.

He was making his way to the door, when he heard it. 

That voice. MC?

He turned to see you standing on the stage, spotlight shining on you. He listened as you spoke.

Is that ...a poem? The words sounded very familiar, like he had heard them very recently. Then it clicked. 

He fished the piece of paper out of his pocket. The poem you were reciting on stage was the same thing written on the paper he found in the hallway.

She wrote this?

He looked up at where you stood on the stage. You hadn’t noticed him so he made his way back to his seat. As he watched you, he started paying attention to the words you were saying. You spoke so softly.

“It’s here, in the endless sapphire pools, that I could get lost swimming, forever. 

Gold flecks, warm like sunshine, adorn the precious gems he dare call an iris.

The sheer power that they hold over me is otherworldly, and to be honest, quite unfair.”

So there really is someone. He thought. There was a stinging feeling in his chest. You don’t talk like that unless love is involved.

“Warm skin, the color of caramel, electricity felt in the slightest of touches.

Hair born of the winter, soft as the Heavens from where it once reigned.

Completely enamored by this creature, I would also happily fall from grace.”

Hair born of winter? Fall from grace? Tan skin?

Wait. That sounds like..

Realization hit him like a truck.

“..It’s about me..” He whispered, barely audible even to himself.

His chest felt like it was going to explode. His stomach so full of butterflies he felt nauseous.

He couldn’t believe it..

| part two |

[elibean]

this was a lil somethin i wrote aaaaages ago but i think i was planning to go back and fix it up a little, but after re-reading it now i’m actually kinda happy with it! idk i just want yukine to be happy please

check it out if you like, and let me know what you think!

             Yukine won’t look him in the eye. Yato wishes it didn’t hurt as much as it does. He tries to pretend everything is okay; he acts exactly as if the whole ordeal never happened.

             But things aren’t normal. Yukine has the name “Hagusa” on him now, Yukine knows the entirety of his past now, and Yukine…Yukine isn’t the same Yukine as he was before. And it hurts. It doesn’t sting; Yukine isn’t committing any sins, no. In fact, he’s not doing much of anything, other than continuing to fight Ayakashi and listening to Yato’s commands without any complaint or banter. So no, Yato’s not being blighted. It hurts in a different way.

             Yato’s no stranger to grief. To pain, to suffering, to regret, to all forms of negative emotions. But before, these feelings were due to atrocities he committed—and those atrocities could be blamed on Father. But this destruction was one he caused all on his own. He destroyed his prized hafuri, his Yukine, his pride and joy—he did this to him. And now Yukine was a husk of his former self.

             A few days passed. No change. A week. No change. A few weeks. No change. The only change Yato noticed was when they met back up with Hiyori. Yukine seemed to visibly brighten, and he talked just a little bit more. He even smiled once. Hiyori seemed just as concerned as Yato, but she too tried to act as if everything was normal. Kofuku and Daikoku acted the same too. Kofuku’s usual antics brought no reaction to Yukine, other than a quiet nod. Yato couldn’t take it. He’d ruined the one thing he’d swore he’d protect.

             Three weeks after the incident, a little before bedtime, Yato approached Yukine in their room.

             “Listen. I’m going to say something that…It’s hard. This isn’t easy to…I don’t want to do this,” Yato stumbled through his sentence. Yukine looked up as he was speaking, but as usual wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I want you to know…I don’t want to say this. But. I think…” Yato took a breath. “Should I release you? Release your name?” For the first time since the incident, Yukine looked him properly in the eye. Yukine’s own eyes grew wide. But he said nothing. “Listen, I…You’re hurting. You’re hurting so much, and I’m.” Yato scratched his head. “I’m only making it worse, aren’t I? My being here. And I…” Yato took another breath in. “Listen, I want you to be happy. Gods, since I named you that’s all I wanted. And I ruined it, and I’m still ruining it, and. You deserve the world, not some shitty no-name god who can’t take care of the best shinki he’s ever had. So I think it’s better if I release you, and you find another god…or don’t. Whatever you decide. Of course, you can still see Hiyori, and Kofuku, and everyone, but…you won’t have to deal with me. Or my sweaty hands,” Yato said the last part with a laugh. But Yukine wasn’t laughing. Or smiling. In fact, Yato noticed, a stray tear was falling down his face. And another. And…Yukine was crying. Great. Yato had made everything worse.

             “…No,” Yukine mumbled.

             “…Yukine?” Yato whispered.

             “No!” he shouted. Yato shut up. “Please don’t do that. Please don’t throw me away. I’ll…I’ll be better, I’ll do better,” his speech was getting faster now, and he was hiccupping between the tears, “I’ll listen better, I’ll do…Just please…”

             “Yukine!” Yato shouted, grabbing his shoulder, trying to shake some sense into him. “You don’t have to do anything. You’re the perfect shinki, a blessed vessel, it’s…it’s not about that. It’s that I think it might be better if you weren’t with me. I mean…”

             “Please don’t leave me,” Yukine whimpered. Yato reached forward and gave him a hug, Yukine sobbing into his shoulder. He began patting his hair with his other hand.

             “Shh, shh. I’m sorry, that was stupid of me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here, Yukine. I’m not leaving,” he mumbled, continuing to stroke his hair as he sobbed and sobbed. When they pulled apart, Yato took a breath in.

             “That was stupid of me. I’m glad you said no, actually. I didn’t want you to say yes. But I thought that maybe that was best…”

             “Yeah, that was stupid of you,” Yukine snorted, wiping away some of his tears.

             “Hey, that’s the first time you’ve laughed since…you know, since then,” Yato pointed out. Yukine sniffled.

             “Really?”

             “Yeah, really. Anyway, we’ll keep doing what we always have. Slaying Ayakashi, helping people out, me working to be the best god I can. But, Yukine…how can I…well,” Yato paused, thinking for a moment. “This is weird to say, but. I’m worried about you. You’re…different, from before, and I know, I know you’ve been through…well, a lot is an understatement, but…”

             “Shut up,” Yukine mumbled. Yato did as he was told. “I’ll try,” he mumbled. “To be better, I mean.”

             “That’s not it, Yukine!” Yato exclaimed. “You don’t need to be better. You need to be happy. Where’s the bratty kid who talked off his master every chance he got? Who kicked me when I said something stupid? Who cried when we sang happy birthday—”

             “Shut up!” Yukine exclaimed, a bit of red rising to his cheeks. Yato shrugged.

             “I’m worried,” he reiterated. Yukine sighed.

             “I don’t know that things can go back to the way they were,” Yukine began, quietly. “But…I can work on it,” he mumbled. Yato smiled softly.

             “I’ll be with ya every step of the way, kid.” Yukine smiled for a split second, but Yato caught it.  Then he turned around, settling back into his futon.

             “C’mon then, let’s get to bed. Shitty god,” Yukine grumbled. Yato broke into the widest of grins then.

             They had a long way to go. But they’d get there together.

[aiden-png]

Acting Tough

I am a huge multishipper, especially for the FSA boys. my hand may have slipped so here’s a short Blue/Shadow fic with some roughhousing and makeouts. it’s about the same level of ‘heated’ as the Vidow fic I wrote a while back so... enjoy!

Word Count: 1,118

Summary: Blue and Shadow get kicked out for the day until they learn to get along. Things get a bit heated.

Blue had no right to be so angry. He was used to being angry, the emotion simmering constantly at the back of his mind, ready to boil over at any little disturbance. He’d gotten it under control in the year after their adventure, but some days it would still flare out of his control, and sometimes with good reason.

Today’s good reason? Shadow was teasing him. Again.

He felt ridiculous getting so worked up over a few jokes, winks, nudges, but today was not one of his patient ones. Blue and Shadow had been forced out of the house that morning and Red said they weren’t allowed back until they learned to get along. Yeah right, as if he’d ever get along with Shadow.

Everything about the shade irked him, from that stupid smirk to the disarray of his hair and his disaffected nature. Where everything made Blue angry, nothing seemed to affect Shadow, and it really got on his nerves. They couldn’t spar because Shadow was a cheat, they couldn’t talk without the man teasing, and there was no way today would be pleasant if Shadow didn’t shut his stupid mouth already.

“Shadow, I swear to Hylia,” Blue growled after Shadow dropped yet another pun. “If you don’t shut up I’m going to punch you.”

Shadow turned, grinning, arms folded casually behind his back as he continued to walk backwards on the path. He wiggled his eyebrows tauntingly and Blue’s hands curled into fists at his sides. This should’ve been a relaxing walk through the woods. He loved this path, could walk it with his eyes closed for how many strolls he’d taken on it to cool off. Shadow was turning what should be a lovely walk into a torturous affair, and he was already fed up.

“Guess you’re not pleased as punch then?” Shadow quipped, sharp teeth glinting in the afternoon sun as his grin widened.

Blue felt his anger boil over, fist raising--

And then Shadow tripped on a root and fell on his backside with an undignified yelp.

Blue stared down at the shade, snorting out a laugh as Shadow glared up at him petulantly from the ground. His anger faded, giving way to mirth as Hylia answered his prayers. Then magic wrapped around his ankle and tugged. Blue fell on his butt, face heating fast as Shadow cackled on the ground beside him, and just like that the anger returned.

“Shut up,” Blue growled, glaring at Shadow as he continued to laugh.

“Fucking make me,” Shadow cackled, and Blue lunged, tackling him.

Shadow continued to chuckle under Blue’s hold, arms braced on his shoulders and chest as they rolled, Blue’s tunic grasped tightly in his fists. Blue grunted as Shadow threw his weight off, rolling until Shadow was on top, grin feral in victory as he panted.

“Not so tough now, are you?” Shadow huffed, and Blue felt heat rush to his face and crackle in his chest.

He grasped Shadow’s tunic and tugged him down roughly, knocking his forehead against the shade’s. Then a fist connected with Blue’s jaw, splitting his lip, and Blue forced his way on top again. Shadow panted beneath him, still grinning, one eye closed as red bloomed across his left cheekbone. Blue felt a throb in his jaw, tasted iron in his mouth, adrenaline coursing through him as he pinned Shadow down. Their eyes locked, blood red against icy blue, and something in his chest sang.

Blue’s lips crashed against Shadow’s, teeth clacking and lip stinging. It was anger and adrenaline that pushed him forward, but when Shadow’s lips moved against his, when hands tugged roughly at his hair, it was hunger that kept them pressed together. The kiss was sloppy and frantic, hands grasping hard at one another. Blue pulled away for a second to catch his breath and it was overly warm in the inches between them, dirt on their clothes and sweat slicking the backs of their necks.

Shadow surged up, lips connecting briefly, then away again. Back and forth, Blue couldn’t decide if he wanted him closer, if this was wrong, if he even enjoyed it. But each brush of their lips sent electricity down his spine, each shared breath made the fire in his chest crackle, and each time Shadow pulled back even slightly his skin prickled with the need to have him back. Closer, too close, not enough--Blue’s forehead rested against Shadow’s shoulder as he gasped for breath.

Shadow’s teeth met his neck, biting down hard enough to break the skin, a delicious sting before Blue groaned and pulled Shadow’s hair back. The shade grinned, licking his lips as Blue glared.

“If anyone is biting anyone, it’s going to be me biting you.” Blue growled, Shadow’s chuckle vibrating through their pressed chests.

“Then bite me already,” Shadow hissed back.

Blue tugged Shadow’s hair again, relishing the grunt of discomfort he got in return, and grinning against the salty skin of Shadow’s neck as his teeth made the shade groan. He bit down just below Shadow’s jaw, rolling the skin beneath his teeth before he sucked hard.

“Ah, fuck,” Shadow moaned, and Blue smirked.

Shadow’s gasps and groans became music to his ears as Blue worked his way down the column of his neck, sucking bruise after bruise into grey skin. The hands in his hair tightened, relaxed, and when Blue reached Shadow’s collarbone they grasped onto his back for dear life. By the time Blue pulled back, Shadow’s neck was a mess of bruises and bites, the shade’s red eyes lidded and grip lax.

“Who’s the tough one now, huh?” Blue laughed, earning himself a weak shove.

Blue rested back on his heels as Shadow sat up, gaze turned away and cheeks flushed darkly. The shade touched his left cheek with a slight wince, the redness already giving way to what would be a nasty bruise. Blue’s jaw still throbbed but he couldn’t help the guilt that nestled between his ribs as the adrenaline wore off.

“Sorry, that was a bit, uh--” Blue stumbled over his words, but Shadow shook his head, a softer smile on his lips.

“I started it, and besides,” Shadow chuckled, eyes sparkling mischievously. “I was trying to get a rise out of you. I wanted this.”

“...you wanted me to headbutt you in the face.”

Shadow deadpanned, blushing deeper, and in lieu of answering he surged forward, pressing a soft kiss to Blue’s lips.

“We’re both idiots who suck at the feelings thing.” Shadow muttered as he pulled away. “We’re perfect for each other.”

Shadow sat back, laughing before he even finished the joke, and Blue found his anger had evaporated entirely as he laughed along.

[bastardtetsu]

{day 13} falling slowly | semi x reader

pairing: semi eita x gn!musician!reader

genre: angst, mutual pining or unrequited love depending on how you look at it

wc: 1.8k

warnings: a little swearing, reader who plays piano/sings, mention of a previous relationship, unresolved feelings, just a lot of pain

⍋⋆*❅｡. 25 days of fic-mas mlist .｡❅*⋆⍋

falling slowly eyes that know me and i can’t go back

—falling slowly; once (music & lyrics by glen hansard & marketa irglova, book by enda walsh)

“that song you just played— did you write that?”

you stood there, wide-eyed, staring him down as he turned to walk away from the spot where he had just been busking on the sidewalk. semi wanted to ignore you, but your resolute gaze already had a vice grip on him.

“yeah,” he grunted reluctantly.

“it’s very good.”

“thanks.”

despite his gruffness, you were still staring at him like your life depended on it. it was kinda unnerving.

“why’d you leave your guitar?” you questioned him with a sense of urgency, gesturing to the guitar semi had left in its case on the sidewalk. his expression hardened.

“i don’t want it anymore,” he muttered, casting his eyes downward.

“you should take it. those things are expensive, you know.”

“fine,” he grumbled, shooting you a glare as he stooped to grab the case by the handle, “i’ll sell it if it makes you feel better.”

“i know a shop!” you blurted out, “a music shop. where you can sell your guitar. i was just on my way there, actually!”

“…seriously?”

“it must be fate!”

those words made him cringe back then.

as the two of you entered the store, a cozy place packed with various instruments, you wasted no time making a beeline for the back of the store, dragging a confused semi along with you.

“where are we going? i thought we were here to sell my guitar,” he questioned.

“just follow me,” you insist. the determination in your voice told him there was no point in resisting.

you continued leading him through the shop, all the way to an old upright piano that sat towards the back. “the owner lets me play this whenever i come in,” you explained, your merciless gaze now fixed on the instrument, “it’s a beautiful piano. if i ever win the lottery, this is the first thing i’m buying.”

semi just watched you quietly as you stood there, marveling at it. he was able to appreciate the intensity of your stare more now that he wasn’t the subject of it - the way your eyes glimmered was actually kind of entrancing.

“so what would you like to hear?” you questioned, suddenly turning your gaze back on him as you sat yourself on the bench, “bach? mozart? something of my own?”

“oh, uh— whatever you want,” he muttered. there was clearly no use stopping you at this point, so he might as well comply.

you positioned yourself and began playing. it was a somber melody, gentle but distinctly melancholic. your concentration remained unbroken as your fingers danced gracefully across the keys, until the final mournful note echoed through the empty store.

“did you write that?” semi asked, a bit awestruck by your talent.

“no. felix mendelssohn did.”

“ah.”

“now you play me one,” you demand, eyes aglow.

“wh—no,” semi faltered.

“please,” you begged.

“no,” he stated firmly, his expression hardening again, “i just came here to get rid of my guitar.”

“what do you mean?” you protested, “your music is good, why are you giving up on it?” semi cringed at the sting of your question.

“there’s no point anymore,” he snapped, “it’s gotten me nowhere.”

“what, so you’re quitting ‘cause you’re not famous?”

“i’m not—“ he scoffed defensively, “you wanna play your songs for people who want to listen.”

“well i’m people,” you stated, your gaze on him more unyielding than ever, “and i want to listen. now play me a song.”

the rigidity of your stare was almost enough to convince him.

“no.”

however, just as semi turned to leave, as if by some sort of drama-induced miracle, a sheet of folded paper fell from his coat pocket, which you wasted no time snatching up before he could even grab at it.

“hey—“ he protested, “give it back, come on.”

“music is dead to you, right?” you taunted, “so isn’t this trash?”

“you know what,” he huffed, his patience at its limit, “fuck it—yeah, keep it. it was nice meeting you.”

“hey!” you barked right as he was turning to leave. his head spun around to find your eyes staring him down with the most intensity and desperation he’d seen from you all day. “you won’t die if you play this song with me,” you spoke to him sincerely, “please.”

he didn’t answer, but remained frozen where he stood, unwilling to break from your acute gaze as you lowered yourself onto the bench and placed your fingers on the keys.

you perused the slightly crumpled page while semi waited with nervous anticipation, reminding himself to breathe as you began to play the notes he had scrawled onto the staff.

as your fingers began to recreate the familiar motif with impressive precision, he gingerly picked up his guitar from its case by the piano, looping the strap over his head as he started to sing,

“i don’t know you but i want you all the more for that”

he sang tentatively at first, the words and notes like scratches upon an unhealed scab, until your voiced chimed in with a harmony,

“and words fall through me and always fool me and i can’t react”

semi began to strum at his guitar, more self-assured as the gentle tune continued, your voices and instruments moulding together as the music swelled into chorus after chorus. his reluctant voice became more and more powerful with each changing chord, each strum of his guitar more intentional as the sounds intermingled with yours, creating new discoveries within a painfully familiar refrain.

as the tempo slowed to a quiet halt, your eyes met with his again until you played the final chord in unison. you both stood there in silence for a moment, as if you were waiting for the final sound waves to finish reverberating, dissolving into the air.

“so where is she?” your question broke the silence.

“where’s who?”

“the girl in the song,” you clarified, “is she dead??”

“what—no, jesus,” semi sputtered, caught off guard for what must be the 75th time today.

“so where is she?” your gaze is on him again, adamant as ever.

“she left,” he uttered, his dejection covered by his brusque tone, “about six months ago. there was nothing else for her here, so—”

“so you still love her?”

semi’s face twitched, feeling his chest tighten at the question.

“no. we’re finished,” he stated shortly.

“no one who writes a song like that is finished,” you enunciated firmly, causing his breath to catch. “if you sing this to her, i bet she’ll take you back.”

“huh?” the ash blond’s face twisted into a confused scowl.

“i’m serious.” the gleam in your eye only affirmed your statement.

“no way,” he replied, “i’m not running after some woman who’s doing fine without me just so i can sing her some stupid—“

“it’s not stupid!” you nearly yelled at him before softening a bit, maintaining your resolute stare. “your songs are good,” you stated emphatically. semi felt his breath catch again, this time accompanied by a rush of warmth to his face. “do you have more??”

-

your heart nearly stops when you see it, breath catching in your throat as the sting of tears begins to prick your eyes.

the old upright piano you had spotted one day in a music store now sits in your living room, a large, bright red ribbon adorning its shiny wooden surface. there is no note, but you need no indication to know who it’s from.

he must be long gone now. he got a call from his ex practically begging him to come back, so of course he went. it doesn’t matter how many longing glances you caught as you helped him rehearse, or how much electricity you felt surge through your body every time you so much as brushed his hand while reaching for some sheet music.

he has unfinished business. you’ve both always known that, it’s why you tried so hard to keep your distance, even as you helped him produce a studio album, relentlessly encouraging him not only to keep pursuing music, but to keep pursuing her. it’s what he deserves. it’s not your place.

it doesn’t matter how much your heart wanted to leap out of your chest when his stern grey eyes stared into yours, uncharacteristically earnest, as he squeezed your hands in his and thanked you for changing his life. he was talking about the music. you’ve only ever talked about the music.

it doesn’t matter that no matter how hard you tried to maintain your distance - god, you really tried - his songs always pulled you back in. those songs aren’t about you. he wrote those for someone else, someone who he is destined to go back to.

it doesn’t matter that every time he played one he felt a shift, like discovering a new harmony, each lyric twisting into a different meaning. that somewhere along the way, he started singing them about you — you can’t think about that. it can’t be about that.

it doesn’t even matter that he said you were a part of his new life, starry-eyed and nearly breathless, imploring you with to run away with him and start a band together, make an album, just the two of you and all your beautiful music. it was just a silly fantasy. one can only entertain such a delusion for so long before you have to move on with your real life again.

as you lower yourself onto the piano bench, you imagine yourself back in the shop on that day, the ash-blonde musician you had just met scowling dubiously as you began to play the opening of one of his songs. you can almost hear the delicate strains of his guitar as he plucked the accompaniment on the strings, his voice growing stronger as he sang.

“and games that never amount to more than they’re meant will play themselves out”

you recall sitting with him at the top of a hill just outside of town one night, looking down at the warm lights of the city twinkling in the distant. he told you about the first time he ever felt scared. you told him you only saw him as a friend. could he tell you were lying?

“take this sinking boat and point it home we’ve still got time“

tears begin to well in your eyes, blurring your vision as you play. but you don’t even need to see the keys, because you know this song too well. it’s engraved in your muscle memory. no matter how hard you try, your body will remember.

“raise your hopeful voice you have a choice you’ve made it now”

“call your girl tonight,” you reminded him as you left the recording studio for the last time. he asked you to come over to his place later, but you’re not going. you know better than that.

“falling slowly sing your melody i’ll sing it loud”

the tears are falling freely now, wetting your hands and the keys, but you continue playing as if semi were right there singing along with you, creating sweet harmonies and stirring chords together, losing yourselves in the music.

you allow the song to engulf you, the melody washing over you like a wave of pure feeling as you bid goodbye to the man you fell unwillingly, irreparably in love with.

a/n: i’m not normally an angst person, or a huge semi simp really, but i still ended up hurting my own feelings with this lmao. i’d probably let semi ruin my life as much as he wants too, let’s be real. the songs linked at the top are definitely required listening for this one (the first link is them together in the music shop, the second one is the reprise at the end) and if you really wanna experience pain, find a bootleg of the show & watch the whole thing bc i truly struggled trying not to shove the entire musical into this one fic (once again if u need help finding it i may or may not have a link if u dm me)

taglist: @izagraceee​ @musicgetsmeoutofbed​ @azo-musxas​ @tsumurai @ghostlydiamond135 @animeboysimppp @starshaped-raindrops

[jae-canikeepyou]

| tender heart | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: fluff + angst

a/n: i gotta be honest, i had troubles writing a softbf!jae so idk if i wrote this request correctly or if there’s enough angst :// though this is so long overdue but i hope this scenario fits your visualization my dear~ 😉 enjoy! ~j.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the wave of annoyance began to completely wrap you. you pressed the bridge of your nose at the once subtle noise, later blowing up like fireworks at your apartment. the invitation wasn’t your choice, rather your boyfriend’s. he brought them over because they had their weekly boys’ night. it would be alright if they could lower the prolonged cheers over some video game they’ve been playing for an hour now.

finals were approaching and although you wanted to study or get some peace/quiet, your boyfriend’s turntable was consumed into the boys’ voices. you had to pass this exam because you retook it this semester and you were already having it under control, not today. twisting the pen between your fingers, you decided to put yourself to bed for a few short minutes to rest a bit, maybe clear your mind at least.

it hasn’t been a second that you took another soft pillow and covered your whole face to block out the loud screams. the door of your bedroom swung open. jaehyun noticed how tiredly you walked to the kitchen counter to grab a cup of coffee. no matter how messy you looked now; a tangled high bun with some strands meeting the nape of your neck, his t-shirt that reached your mid-thighs and the crooked glasses on your nose— he still loves you like he did when he first met you.

whilst immersed into the game, taeil nudged the rest of them in secret, telling to look what jaehyun was up to. “pst.” he jutted his lips as they pointed to the kitchen. even from a distance, jaehyun’s ears were prominent when they turned red. “he’s all lovey-dovey to her again.”

putting weight on one leg, you waited for the water to boil and rested against the counter. jaehyun’s warm palms sneaked around your waist, wrapping yourself to him for a hug where his chin rested just on your head.

“what are you doing?” he asked with a playful tone in each word.

“hm?” a spoon in mouth, you hummed in response to give him a hint of bitterness for his actions today. once you poured two packets of sugar, you turned to face but he had you in his stretched forearms. only the friction of the stirring sound of your mug was heard.

he stared into your eyes for a while before leaning in to kiss you. seeing his friends giggling at the corners of the living room, you became flustered and stopped him from being sweet. “c’mon baby. you locked yourself in your room all day. let me kiss you.” he whined, going forward to continue where he left off.

“ngmpf,” you placed the spoon in the gap between. “no.”

he let out a breathy chuckle at your response, kissing the spoon instead. “i guess an indirect kiss works just as fine.” jaehyun swooped you up, carrying you in a bridal style before sitting back on the sofa. your whines did nothing on him, he ignored you and went forth with his desires. cheeky grins and snickers grew quickly as you blushed so hard in front of the boys.

you knew this was in his nature; sweet, loving and caring. although you loved that about him to the point he softens your heart, sometimes it had gotten a little too much and you weren’t used to his public display affection especially when he does it all the time. there should be limits, but apparently ‘limits’ was a non-existent word in his dictionary.

his friends anticipated your participation for the next round. to them, your silence went for two ways: one was you’d join them, and two, refuse their offer and just watch.

and you chose the second option.

donghyuck began acting cute with his palms together. this gesture became contagious when mark and the rest of them followed, taking you a back and leaning against jaehyun.

“please y/n? one round only.” jungwoo sang in the tune of dreamgirls’ ‘one night only’.

“we won’t bother you afterward.” mark nodded.

then their eyes trailed to jaehyun who now was admiring you with a hearty look. he had you on his lap, hugging you like a child would do to a stuffed bear. he knew how much his friends like you, so when it came to persuasion, it was his job to make you surrender. “play with one game, baby.” he handed you the controller with a persistent plead, dimples sinking the more he smiled widely.

you held in your squeal and blushed more than before. and you finally gave in with pursed lips. “fine, one game and that’s it.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

yuta was now in the kitchen with johnny and jaehyun. they prepared ingredient toppings for homemade pizza, takoyaki and fruit punch. he saw how you actually didn’t keep your word and went for three more rounds. he propped his chin against the counter, sending you hearts he wished you would notice.

“how are you able to endure it?” johnny asked the guy and jaehyun turned to his direction.

“endure what?” he asked for more emphasis into his question that both of his hyungs shared a look. it wasn’t the first time jaehyun saw their expressions in this manner.

“whenever y/n’s in ‘tsun-tsun’ mode.” yuta noted while mixing the takoyaki batter.

ah yes. tsundere; a nickname that yuta’s been calling you even before you dated jaehyun. two words combined where ‘tsun’ meant ‘blunt’ while ‘dere’ meant ‘lovey-dovey’. in fact, it was his idea to make you both meet as total opposites attract. he felt you were each other’s key to both of your locked-away hearts for relationships. so when he managed to set you both on a date for fun, you and jaehyun did clicked, and fell in love in the process.

of course, this was revealed later than imagined and to his surprise, you weren’t mad or anything.

jaehyun shrugged in complete silence, but a smile still evident and shown on his face. “if it’s y/n, it’s alright for me. she’s probably just not as affectionate or showy whenever there are people around. it’s different when it’s only the both of us alone.”

“how would you know if she cares for you when you’re in public? tsunderes like her are kinda hard to read.” yuta stated and it was definitely true. jaehyun would like it if you could be a little bit true to yourself on the outside, not just masking something you were not.

“it’s hard to explain.. but i know it well if she’s being herself.” he spread the sauce onto the new laid-out dough.

your throat thirsted for a drink after screaming at the younger boys for killing you instantly in three consecutive rounds. so headed to the kitchen to find yuta and johnny smiling with the same grins and snickers.

these two- they’re at it again.

“agh, i’m thirsty.” you fanned yourself and grabbed a cup to pour water into. a sigh escaped from your lips and wondered why you spent time into playing rather than studying for your finals. you weren’t supposed to delay or procrastinate what you scheduled today for, but seeing jaehyun and his friends on their free time had you feeling annoyed again. it wasn’t your time of month yet either so why were you so cranky when you thought you’ve calmed down?

jaehyun immediately switched from being serious to a boy in love. he took a piece of pepperoni and placed half of it into his mouth, leaning closer to yours. his pearly whites shown and he giggled wide before speaking. “eat this.” he said between breaths. your boyfriend looked funny and cute at the same time. you were so close to giving in before realizing the two guys behind him started to tease you with their eyes.

you took the piece with your hands and ate it. much to jaehyun’s dismay, his eyes changed and you didn’t notice it. “ey y/n, you’re supposed to get it with-”

“stop this!” you hissed coldly and covered half of your face from the sudden loud tone. you felt instant regret but your pissed personality had already outweighed that. “tsk you’re too much, can’t you see that yourself?” you walked away, your drink long forgotten.

your boyfriend sighed and pulled you on the arm. “so you’re saying it’s a problem that i’m being too attached?” he asked, his voice slightly higher but man that punched real hard.

“i’m saying you should at least know when and where to act this way! i thought we talked about this!” you managed to break free from his hold, but he wasn’t having any of your childish breakouts.

“shouldn’t you be asking yourself that, y/n?” he placed the glass bowl down with more strength on the counter, gaining the others’ attention and diverting their gaze onto you. “all i ever did was to be your boyfriend and myself but here you are, being someone i thought was slowly changing.”

you gulped and nearly choked on your own saliva at is words. in the months of dating him, never have you faced this side of him before. “changing? the heck i’m not. did you forget that i have finals next week? and if you claim you’re actually ‘being my boyfriend’, why did you invite them here when you have your own place to deal with your quality time?” you crossed your arms.

jaehyun felt the strings of his heart strum in a painful way. was this what yuta and johnny meant by ‘enduring’? well, his answer was incorrect, he couldn’t distinguish his girlfriend’s real self and the masked one right now. “i did tell you but you always put your anger over my feelings that it blinded you from seeing what’s in front! how about you act like my sweet girlfriend for once whenever the guys are here?!”

your heart sank at the realisation of how differently you behaved in comparison with jaehyun and with his friends around. you didn’t want to cry in front of them now that you felt the tears prickling and stinging your eyes. with heavy steps you set your pride down and head back to your room. jaehyun watched you rub your eyes with his tshirt and groaned at how far he went with his words. “oh, crap.” he whispered.

yuta and johnny pursed their lips and clasped their hands simultaneously. “sorry jae. we might have provoked- or make her shy-”

jaehyun shook his head, disagreeing with their claims. “you did nothing wrong. it made me realise how stupid i looked when i’m too affectionate with her. i didn’t even know i’m already making her uncomfortable. love is blind.”

they both had jaehyun between them for a group hug. “you’re still soft even when you’re mad at her. you love her so much haha!” they teased. “aren’t you going to her room? it looked like she was crying.”

“let her be. she’ll come out later.” jaehyun assured them, heading back to continue with the pizza making.

“how do you know that?”

“you’ll see.” he bursted into teasing giggles that his friends found him a little evil, but they understood where he was coming from.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you woke up from crying too hard and your head spun in circles from the pain it had left. there was no point in going out now because your eyes were swollen and puffed up. jaehyun thought you were changing and that hit you the most because you really weren’t.

“stupid jaehyun.” you hugged your pillow and noticed how hideous you looked from the mirror’s reflection.

the aroma of pizza made its way out of the oven and entered your room. you haven’t had a meal since breakfast and it lured you to sneak a peek. however, you were shy to show yourself. there were few knocks onto your door, asking you to take a bite. you couldn’t face jaehyun and you’ve never seen him so crossed. in the end, you knew you had to apologise. he was the best thing you could ever ask for and there was nothing that could replace him.

carefully, you turned the knob without a sound. the guys were still immersed into the game, so walking in stealth mode wouldn’t make them notice your existence. you wore jaehyun’s sweater and put on the hood; soon tied a knot to cover your face. from the gaps of your door, you spotted jaehyun making the second- or third batch of pizza. you had to make sure you stood behind him.

jaehyun hummed a song he always liked to sing. he turned with two plates in his hands to place them in the oven, later realizing you stood before him and wrapped your arms around him. “what’s wrong, y/n?” he passed the plates to johnny and hugged you back. he could feel how you tightened your embrace, like you didn’t want him to escape.

“i’m sorry.” you mumbled into his chest to prevent the tears from falling and from guilt.

he winked at his friends for his accurate prediction and cleared his throat. “what did you say?” he held in his smile.

ah she’s in dere mode.. they thought the same.

“i’m sorry for what i did.” you whined while still hugging him and hopping slightly because you didn’t want to cry in front of his friends.

“i can’t hear you.” jaehyun singsonged and this irked you a bit.

“i said i’m sorr-” you finally looked up, only to be greeted with a kiss the forehead.

the rest of them could see how flustered you were; your arms not knowing what to do nor where to place them, and then they formed sweaterpaws at the sudden action, it looked like you panicked a lot too.

jaehyun let you go and his eyes softened that you began to blush and panic again. “what?”

“just thinking how pretty you are.” he pat your head in assurance that he forgave you.

you inhaled quite a long one before letting it all out at his comment. “y-you. st-stop tha-t.”

“stop what?” he hummed as he bent down to see you properly; red face and swollen eyes. heh, she did cry..

“stop smiling like that. you’re too handsome and it’s killing me.”

“wow, never thought i’d be embarrassed when you compliment me.” he purposely made his voice loud to tease you.

“i’m dissing you!” you butt back, grabbing a pizza slice from the counter.

the others covered their mouths from laughing.

and she’s back to tsun-tsun mode..

jaehyun made you sit on the stool by the counter, where you were levelled with his soft, chocolate brown eyes. “although you’re cute in this version of yourself, you don’t always have to put up a front. you’re with me, so be you. don’t mask who you actually are.”

you pursed your lips at his advice. well he wasn’t wrong. “fine. where should i start?” your cheeks began to turn red again.

whilst rubbing circles around your waist with his thumbs, he pondered for a moment and you saw how he lit up, already knew what to answer.

“try giving a little piece of the y/n who always has a tender heart. that’s the girl i fell for.”

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Set  Yourself On Fire

Word Count: ~1550

Warnings: Depression and suicidal thoughts. No, seriously, this is not a happy fic. It centers on Sam and his mental state between seasons three and four, so. Yeah. Demon blood, sad Sam, self-loathing, etc. Some mentions of Sam x Ruby, but the pairing is not the point. 

A/N: For @idreamofplaid​‘s “Thanks For The Memories” Challenge.  My episode was “I Know What You Did Last Summer.” 

I snagged bits from a drabble I wrote called “Might As Well,” which was about this same time in Sam’s life, and worked them into this. 

Thanks to @fangirlxwritesx67​ and @fookinghelljensensthighs​ for read-throughs, and to @stunudo​, @thoughtslikeaminefield​, and @lastactiontricia​, who helped me work through the fine points of the psychology that was going on here. 

Title from the Stars song Your Ex-Lover Is Dead: “When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire.”  

The whiskey stings when Sam splashes it over the cut on his arm. It’s a good kind of pain, blindingly sharp and clean, and for a moment it takes his mind off the slimy ache in his chest and the filthy squirming guilt in his gut. 

Dean’s looking at him again, searching and suspicious.

“Why do you trust her so much?” he asks, and Sam doesn’t want to meet his eyes. 

“I told you.” 

“You got to do better than that. Hey, I’m not trying to pick a fight here. I mean, I really want to understand. But I need to know more. I mean, I deserve to know more.” 

He does. Dean deserves that and so much better. 

Sam tilts the bottle again, watching the booze wash away the blood as it burns him clean, and he takes a sip, as if that’ll do the same thing to the ugly wound in his chest. There isn’t enough whiskey in the world to sanitize his insides. 

He knows he can’t tell the whole truth, but Dean deserves to know more. The question is, where does he start? 

He could start with the moment the dirt closed over the grave. Sam, Bobby had said, so quietly. Sam, don’t. And it was funny, how much Sam had always wanted that; he always wanted a father figure who would ask him to stay. I can’t, he told Bobby, and he lurched away, staggered to the car, started driving.

He can’t tell Dean about the days that followed, because he doesn’t remember much of them. Two, three, maybe four days slipped away while he hid in a shitty motel, drinking, and the memories that remain are disjointed flashes in his mind: the ugly floral duvet under his cheek as he collapsed face-first into the bed, the cold white bathroom tiles and the bruises they left on his knees, a ceiling fan distorted through salt-swollen eyes as he watched it spinning lazily overhead, the taste of bile, the blood on his knuckles, the broken shard of mirror that he picked up and turned over in his hands for longer than he’ll ever admit. 

No. He can’t start there.

“She saved my life,” he says hoarsely, and Dean waits while Sam tries to find the words. 

He still hears John, sometimes: Why are you crying? Be strong. Be brave. Get over yourself. Other people got it a lot worse, y’know. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. 

He’s gotten better at ignoring John’s voice, over the years, but it’s harder to ignore his memories of Dean. Dean blinking back tears, forcing a smile. It’s going to be okay, Sammy. I’m fine, Sammy, don’t worry about me. He’s always wanted to be like his big brother, and his big brother wouldn’t let himself wallow the way Sam had. His big brother would’ve found a way to fight back. 

The crossroads demon had been his only real hope. 

Just take me. It’s a fair trade. 

The worst part was, that no didn’t really surprise him. Of course his life wasn’t worth the same as Dean’s. Of course it wasn’t enough, he wasn’t enough, to save his brother the way Dean had saved him. 

Sam wasn’t sure who he was without Dean, without a mission, without anything to hold onto. 

He’d gotten in the car and started driving. He thought about heading West, out to the cliffs and curves of Highway One; the guardrail was so flimsy, and the Pacific would be steely-grey and welcoming. He thought about heading East, all the way to Maine; the shoreline was rocky and rough, and the crabs would find his body. He could go to Florida, drive into a swamp, let the muck swallow him slowly. He could go to the Dakotas, drive out into the desert, park there and wait, and the vultures would descend eventually. He wondered if anyone would notice that he was gone. 

He can’t tell Dean that.  

So he doesn’t tell Dean about the directionless days. He starts with the day Ruby found him. 

He doesn’t tell Dean about the relief he felt, when he thought Ruby was going to kill him. He doesn’t tell Dean about the cold crush of disappointment in his chest when she stabbed the demon instead. 

He tells Dean about her new body, “100% socially conscious.” He tells Dean about the plan to find Lilith: “I wanted to go right away.” 

Sam had asked, What do you want from me? 

A little patience. And sobriety. 

Sobriety made it harder to sleep, and insomnia made it even harder to remember what was real. He didn’t feel real. He felt like a faded, dull husk of a person, a sunbleached copy of a photograph instead of a breathing human with a heartbeat. Ruby told him to use his strength, but he didn’t have anything left. 

Sam didn’t much care if he died, and some days he wasn’t even sure he was still alive. 

He can’t tell Dean that. 

He sees the way Dean looks at him sometimes. He sees the exhaustion in Dean’s eyes, the worry flickering behind that, and Sam doesn’t want to add to the weight on his big brother’s shoulders. 

Ruby said, Just give it time, Sam. It'll get better. I'm not talking about pulling demons. I know losing Dean was…

I don't want to talk about it. 

The anger tasted ashy in his mouth. It burned, but in a purifying way, like a forest fire clearing the land for new growth. The anger helped him focus. He balled his hands into fists, imagined punching her, imagined that pretty face swollen and bleeding. 

He doesn’t tell Dean about that. 

You know what? Where do you get off slapping me with that greeting-card, time-heals crap? What the hell do you know? I used to be human. And I still remember what it feels like to lose someone. I'm sorry.

He almost did punch her, at that. 

When she kissed him, it was Dean’s voice in the back of his head saying, this is wrong. He shoved her away. 

“I knew it was wrong,” Sam confesses, and he can’t meet Dean’s eyes. “But…” 

He didn’t care, in the moment. It was his brother’s opinion that had always mattered; he always wanted to make Dean proud. But Dean was dead, and Sam had been drifting for so long, and Ruby’s skin was warm and soft and real under his hands.

It was more like a battle than a kiss. It was teeth and claws, ripping each other apart, but every bite and every scratch felt like a reminder that Sam was still alive. 

“Sam?” Dean snaps. “Too much information.” And there it is, there’s the disgust Sam knew was coming. Dean’s lip curls and Sam feels like a child again, clumsy and stupid next to his strong, steady anchor of a big brother. 

The half-truth sits uncomfortably in his throat, and Sam has to work to get it past his lips: “I’m coming clean.” 

There’s something monstrous inside him, something warped and wrong. There’s always been something wrong with him. 

He thinks of the vial in his pocket, the burst of copper on his tongue like a mushroom cloud, the silent dare in Ruby’s big dark eyes and the way she sighs when he slices her open. It burns a little hotter every time he drinks, and he must be charred and black inside by now. 

He hasn’t felt clean for a long time. 

That’s the thing about fire, though; it cleanses, purifies, and maybe he’ll burn up hot enough to take Lilith with him someday. Self-immolation seems inevitable, at this point. His life doesn’t mean much, but maybe his death will. 

“Pretty soon after that,” Sam says, “I put together some signs. Omens. Lilith was in town, and I wanted to strike her first.” Ruby had looked so goddamn concerned, when she realized, and Sam had hated her for it. You don’t want to survive this. This isn't what Dean would've wanted. This isn't what he died for.

“She came after me,” Sam says. “She saved me.” 

He hesitates. 

He doesn’t tell Dean about the blood. 

Sam remembers the night after that failed attack. He remembers watching Ruby cut herself for the first time: his stomach roiling and his skin crawling, the blood welling up and beading into shiny pearls of red. He imagined it sliding down his throat and staining his guts that same dark crimson. 

He doesn’t tell Dean about the way it sizzled on his lips, crackled and sparked inside him, lit him up in a whole new way. He doesn’t tell Dean about the next demon, the way the black oily smoke poured out all at once, faster than he’d ever seen it leave a human before, and the way his veins sang with the power. 

He doesn’t tell Dean about the too-hot shower afterward, when the fizz was long gone and he scrubbed himself raw trying to get rid of the itch that it left behind. 

He didn’t like the way he felt with Ruby, but at least he felt something again. 

“If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be here,” he tells Dean quietly. 

He doesn’t ask, Do you regret dying for me? Was I worth it? 

He’s not sure he could live with the answer. 

.

.

.

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[howardpotts]

Sweet, Sugar, Candyman

Pairing: Bucky x Reader x Steve

Summary: Reader performs Candyman and knows how to persuade the two men to join her on stage. She makes it one hell of a show, one that Bucky and Steve can’t forget. Bucky takes her to his bedroom, Steve joins quickly after.

Warnings: Smut (Male receiving, female receiving, vaginal sex, anal sex, M/M and F/M), roughness? As in; someone is going to be a bit demanding. ;)

A/N: Oh my god. My first threesome. I feel like I can finally say that I wrote some filthy smut. Oh, also, thanks @cametobuyplums @thamuddagirl @tranquil--heart for all the thirsty conversations that inspired this fic.

Do not read this if you are under 18.

Nervously you check yourself one last time in the mirror. Waved long hair, thick red lips, contoured face, navy tight dress. It was your typical 40’s look, or at least, that’s what you tried. You had to, to make your performance in front of the New York SHIELD Agents and Avengers an absolute success.

“Y/N, fifteen seconds”, someone informed you. You nodded firmly, hands lowering your dress one last time. This is it. Now or never.

“Now, give her a big applause…. Y/N!” The sound was muffled. Adrenaline rushed through your body, maybe even more than it did on mission. Missions you were familiar with, performing in front of a live audience you’re not.

Quickly you find your place, a big smile on your face, hands on your hips. The moment the beat started playing, the curtains disappeared and the crowd cheered. They have never seen you like this. The only version of you they ever saw was serious and to the point. Sure you liked a joke, most of the times you enjoyed a dark one better than the innocent ones.

“Before we start”, you begin, wiggling your eyebrows. “I need two strong men.” You smirk while you search the crowd, a few hands are in the air. Some jokingly, some serious. A chuckle leaves your mouth as you take a few steps forward. You spot Steve and Bucky in the crowd. Gotcha.

“Preferably two who have been around in the 40’s.” Your eyes never leave them, there’s no escaping now. Both look wide-eyed, not expecting this kind of sudden attention. The crowd cheers. Steve tries to get out of it, waving his hand and mouthing ‘no thanks’, but Bucky is already on his way to the stage.

Natasha helps you, pushing Steve in to the right direction until he gives in himself.

You greet Bucky when he climbs up. As a real gentleman, he kisses the back of your hand, looking in your eyes playfully. You lead him to one of the two chairs that are on the stage.

When Steve gets up, he looks embarrassed and slightly irritated. “Why?” is the first thing he asks you. You just shake your head, refusing to give him an answer and lead him to the other empty chair on the stage.

“Now, be a good Captain and stay seated please”, you whisper close to his ears.

You move to the center again. Your hips start flicking up and down while your hands are holding them. With a playful smile you watch the audience, nervous magically disappeared the minute you saw the crowd, excitement has taken over.

“Tarzan and Jane were swingin’ on a vine”, it scolds through the room, a male voice starting the song. The microphone is close to your mouth. “Candyman, candyman.”

“Sippin’ from a bottle of Vodka double wine.” One last look to the crowd with one eyebrow up. “Sweet, sugar, candyman.”

And you turn around to face the two men, who are maybe three feet apart from each other. The music takes on and you walk toward them, swaying your hips from left to right. Their attention is on you, curiosity beaming in their eyes.

You first turn to Bucky, since it felt like he was most sure of himself, Steve really needed to be eased into this song. You hovered over Bucky, laying your hand on his cheek softly. “I met out for diner on a Friday night”, you start, getting your hand back again and twirling around his chair.

“He really had me workin’ up an appetite. He had tattoos up and down his arm. There’s nothing more dangerous than a boy with charm. He’s a one stop shop, makes the panties drop-“

Bucky couldn’t be more surprised. He never saw you out of work and he most definitely never considered you.. this. One who can work the crowd, make them whistle while you walk past. He was blown away by your moves and touches, mentally trying to keep his head on the stage.

You laid a hand on his shoulder, which made his head flick up to you. You gave him a quick wink before lowering yourself, still moving your hips from one side to the other. The moment you’re finally at his height, you quirk up again, hand leaving his arm.

“He took me to the Spider Club on Hollywood and Vine. We drank champagne and we danced all night. We shook the paparazzi for a big surprise. The gossip tonight will be tomorrow’s headline-“

It was Steve’s turn. He looked up at you. His shyness was lost, he decided he better just get it over with. He gave you a little smirk as if he wanted you to know it’s okay to do the same as you did with Bucky.

And so you did. You stood behind him, your hand slowly going from his chest to his collarbone, but not any further than that. You made sure of that, not wanting to make them feel overtouched. Slowly you creeped your hand back to his should and then left again, walking around his chair and stopping again in the middle between the two guys.

“He’s a one stop shop, make my cherry pop. He’s a sweet talking, sugar-coated, candyman.”

The crowd cheered. Natasha and Tony having the times of their lives seeing those two supersoldiers in such.. public position. But also, they were very much enjoying your performance. You sang like an angel, not one note off. Your moves were smooth, but not overly done to make you look cheap. It was an overall classy and well rehearsed performance.

_____________________

With the same looks you walk into the crowd, pretty satisfied with the performance you just had. A bit nervous for what Steve and Bucky had to say. They didn’t know that they would be called on stage and you’re not sure if they’d be happy about it. But you had to do it. It was like this song was made for them.

“That was one hell of show, girl. I loved it.” Natasha squeezed your upper arm softly while smirking. She was the only one who knew that the supersoldiers would be asked to come on stage. You thank her, but also eye Bucky and Steve. When being called on stage, Bucky didn’t seem to mind, but Steve was a different story. He had to be convinced by Nat before deciding not to demonstrate and just go with it.

“You really know how to surprise these old folks, eh?” Bucky smiled widely as he grabbed Steve’s shoulder. You grinned, shrugging your shoulders.

“I hope I didn’t cross any boundaries”, you say innocently, batting your eyelashes with it. Bucky presses his lips together.

“You’re a good performer”, Steve says, his smile a little less wide. It made you a little uncomfortable, as if he only says it to be nice in public, only to give you a speech when you’re alone.

Nat grabs both of your shoulders and tugs you away from the two men, which takes you by surprise. A confusing ‘hmm’ leaves your lips, but Natasha isn’t answering. When they’re both out of earshot, she finally starts talking.

“I’m not trying to… interfere”, she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “But I think you got both men quite worked up.”

Your eyes grow big. “Worked up? Like? Pissed?” Your cheeks start to slowly get more colour.

“Oh my god, no. Are you blind? I mean.. They like the view of you all – how do they say it? – dolled up.” Now you’re of officially blushing. The temperature rises, but you’re far from uncomfortable. Instead, how bad it may be, there’s even a little spark starting to exist in your belly, slowly making its way down to your most sensitive spot.

“What? No, they’re probably just nice”, you try to swat it off, but Natasha just gives you a small wink before returning to the supersoldiers, where Tony has joined them. He gives you a thumbs up, but you’re too busy in your head, thinking of all the things they could do to you.

You never thought about it. Sure, you thought about maybe them, you’re not blind. They’re like two gods. But it never occurred to you that they might actually be interested in you, just an ordinary agent.

_____________________

You sip from your gin tonic while looking at people, they’re dancing and laughing. A little content smile is on your face, realizing that your performance went well and now you can enjoy the night without having to think about a single mission.

“Can I have a beer?”, you hear from your right. He takes a seat next to you, scooting a little closer and now also brushing your arm with his.

“Don’t you love this?”, he asks. You look at him, but he’s still looking at the crowd. “The dancing, the laughing, sipping beer. In a strange way, this reminds me of the 40’s.”

“Yeah, it’s lovely to have an evening where you don’t have to worry about anything”, you smile, looking into his piercing blue eyes, brown hair tugged behind his ears. “Don’t have to think about the missions. Where back in the day, you don’t have to worry about..”

“War”, he finished your sentenced. You didn’t want to finish it, knowing damn well it might still sting, even after so many years. You smile in embarrassment and add a quick ‘yeah’.

“It is, yeah, in a way.” Again, he scoots closer, now obviously touching your arm, hand brushing yours. His pink intertwines with yours as he finally looks at you. Again, red creeps into your cheeks and neck, no way of hiding it.

“Look, doll, I’m going to be honest”, he sighs, voice lower than when he started the conversation. His words made your blood run faster. “What you did on that stage - You look like a real betty and if you feel just as warm as I do, I suggest we go to the elevator and continue the party with just the two of us.”

You do feel warm. No, correction, you feel hot. Your teeth catch your lower lip as you watch him. His eyes are pleading, watching how you figure out what to say without sounding like you’ve planned this.

Instead of saying something, you just nod, still holding your lip between your teeth. He grins, standing up immediately, smoothly passing the crowd and walking to the elevator. You follow, trying not to smile. It’s a desperate attempt so no one will notice what you and Bucky are planning on doing.

When the elevator opens, you both get in quickly. Bucky presses the closing button impatiently, slowly showing how desperate he really is. You chuckle, which he notices.

As soon as the door shuts, he pushes you against the wall, lips on yours. It’s a needy kiss, a bit sloppy as well. Your hands are around his neck in a second, pulling him even closer.

You’d lie if you didn’t think of this while preparing for your performance. It’s a fantasy you thought of, but also put away quickly, since the odds of it happening seemed very small to you. But here you are, kissing one of the two soldiers you desperately wanted in your bed.

When the elevator dings again he stumbles backwards, grabbing your hand while watching you hungrily. You giggle while walking to his apartment, excited for what’s about to come.

When inside, he slams the door, pushing you to it again. “Fuck, I can’t wait to rip this off.” His voice is low, hands roaming your dress, pulling at some of the fabric.

His lips devour your neck, teeth nibbling slightly at the same time. You throw your head back, a small moan coming out of your mouth. “Then do it. Rip it”, you sigh, encouraging Bucky to take it to the next step. He looks at you for reassurance, not sure if you really wanted this dress to be unwearable. But your eyes are closed, waiting for your body to be exposed.

With little effort he rips the seams apart, slowly showing your lace black bra and matching panties, dress somewhere tossed in the room. His hands are on your breast in an instant, squeezing them as if he never wanted something so desperately in his life. A low growl leaving his mouth with it.

He lifts you, your legs wrapping around his thighs. A bit clumsy he stumbled to the bed, almost falling over a pair of shoes that were tossed somewhere in the living room. He wasn’t the cleanest person of the Avengers, but you knew that before this little adventure.

“You planned this, didn’t you? You wanted us to go crazy, to fuck your brains out.” All this time he had a mischievious smirk on his face. “Did you want me? Or Stevie?”

You keep your mouth shut, not knowing what to answer. Your bottom lip is between your teeth again, probably betraying your answer. “Answer me, babygirl.” There’s a slight warning in his voice.

He throws you on the bed. You want to crawl backwards, but he doesn’t allow it. Instead, he grabs you by the ankles and turns you around. “I said answer me.”

God you were loving this, how he handled you roughly. You wondered how far he’d go without you answering. You wondered what he was going to do about the fact that you didn’t say a word. And so, you stayed silent, only a giggle leaving your mouth.

“Oh, so that’s how you wanna play, huh?” You feel the mattrass dip, two seconds after, you feel his hand hitting your ass hard, the sound filling the room. A small hiss passes your lips, but your walls are fluttering. You were practically dripping already and he didn’t even do that much.

Another spank on your cheek has you whimpering. “Bucky please-” “Answer me”, he orders. You want to answer but you can’t, words strangled with each other.

Another slap forces the answer out of you, almost screaming it at him. “Both!”

He stops entirely. Oh shit. Wrong answer?

“Both? You want both of us?” You turn around, facing him while innocently nodding your head. You expect to see confusion on his face, but instead, you see a playful grin.

He grabs his phone out of his pocket and starts texting. “Uh? Bucky?”, your voice is unsure, even a little bit insecure. He doesn’t look up for another few seconds before laying it down and climbing further on the bed, his face close to yours.

“It might be your lucky day.” The words send shivers down your spine. Out of excitement you kiss him, hands in his hair, but he breaks the kiss again. “But don’t count yourself lucky yet, doll. I’m not sure if he’ll come.”

You nod and bat your eyelashes innocently. “Well”, you say, voice more girly than usual. “In the meantime, Sarge, let me give you a good time.”

His eyes darkened, definitely enjoying the name you just called him. He throws himself at you again, his flesh hand dissapearing to your back to release your bra.

You quickly rid yourself of it, exposing your breasts to him. He licks his lips at the sight of it, eyes blown with lust. His metal hand squeezes one of your tits, flicking a nipple in between moves. His mouth find the other nipple while he sucks carefully.

God it feels so good. He makes you feel so good. As much as you want him to move further, you promised him that you were going to give him a good time. And so, you push him off you.

He lays down on the mattress as he pulls his shirt over his head. No time to appreciate the work of art in front of you. You work on the belt, his hardend cock clearly visible as you try to get his pants off as quick as possible.

When you finally push it down, you automatically pull his boxers with it. His cock springs free. Pre cum is dripping off his red head. His cock is thick and you suddenly feel worried if your mouth fits around it.

You look at him in the eyes, shock probably visible all over your face as he chuckles. “Just take as much as you can, babydoll.”

He softly brushes your hair to encourage you. You stick out your tongue and lick down his shaft and back to the tip, where you lick away all the pre cum. Slowly you take him in your mouth, jaws hurting from the stretch.

You start bobbing your head, each time taking him deeper, your mouth opening up and taking him in. Your right hand takes the parts your mouth can’t reach, your left hand is cupping his balls.

He grunts, his hand fisting your hair. “Fuck, yes, like that baby, taking my cock real good.” The words encourage you, your tongue pressing against his vein. His hips buck, his cock hitting the back of your throat, making you gag in a reflex.

You don’t stop. You ignore your own reflexes as you keep trying to speed things up.

“Shit, fuck, god you feel-” His words are cut off by a knock on the door. You stop your movement, eyes gliding to his as his cock leaves your mouth. A big grin spreads across his face.

“Looks like we’ve got company. Why don’t you go look?”

You reach with your hand to your mouth to wipe off the pre cum and saliva, but Bucky grabs your wrist, shaking his head.

“Yes, Sarge”, you say with a little tremble in your voice. This is not happening, right? Is it really Steve who’s behind that door? Did they do this more often? Or is Bucky just messing with you?

You peek through the little hole in the door. Your legs weaken when you see the handsome blonde on the other side. Arms crossed, showing every muscle through the blouse. A feeling of vulnerability taking over. You’re naked and you looked like mess - like a whore.

With trembling hands you open the door, your body still hiding behind it in case someone else walks by. A little shy smile is on your face, but so is on Steve’s. The same one he had when you wanted him on stage. The only difference is the glint of lust in his eyes.

“Uh, come in.” It’s more of a question than an invitation, but he gets in anyway.

When the door shuts, he looks at you completely, eyes scanning your body. God, you couldn’t have felt more exposed right now.

“Steve? You there?” Bucky called from the other room.

“Yes, give me a minute Buck”, he called back, hands going through his hair. Give him a minute?

“God, you’re a real treasure.” He takes a step forward, closing the space between the two of you. He can probably tell how uncertain you are. His hands are now on your body. One in your neck, the other one on your thigh.

He presses his body against yours. Your heart felt like it could jump out of your body any minute now and you’re sure that he had to feel it as well.

“Looks like Bucky already had some fun with you”, he grinned as his put a strand of hair behind your ear. All innocence and shyness was lost as he yanked at your hair, your head falling back. “Think you can give it to me too?”

You nod, but just as Bucky, he wanted words. He pulled a bit harder at your hair. “Can you?”

“Yes”, you answer. He sighed, eyes breaking contact for less than a second.

“Yes what?”, he threatens. His grip tightening even more on your hip. That’s definitely going to be a bruise tomorrow.

“Yes, Captain”, you whisper. Finally he was satisfied with the answer and let you go. He walked toward Bucky’s bedroom, but not before he gripped your wrist and pulled you with him.

As you walk in to the bedroom, you see Bucky slowly moving his hand over his cock, grinning when Steve walks in. Steve gave a smirk in return. Even though you’re a bit confused with what’s happening, you get yourself together in two seconds.

You remembered the words of the Captain. Think you can give it to me too? With that in mind, you stand before him and start unbuttoning his jeans. Steve looks surprised, a smile he can’t hide.

“What are you doing, babygirl?” Steve sounds amused.

“You asked me, right?”, you grin. He lets you do your work as you peel off his jeans - boxer followers soon after. You look up, meeting his eyes. You feel a hand going through your hair.

“Sarge, you gonna watch?” Steve’s still looking at you. You bat your eyelashes at him before taking the first look at his cock. It’s already rock-hard and just as thick - maybe even thicker - as Buckys.

“Yeah, I’m gonna enjoy the show”, you hear from the other side of the room. The bed squeaks, but you don’t pay attention to what’s happening behind you. Your attention is focused on Steve’s cock.

You lick the pre cum off quickly, which makes Steve already grunt low. You press back a smile and open your mouth instead, taking his head in. A little ‘fuck’ comes from Steves mouth.

You take him in further until you feel your gag-reflexes showing up again. Slowly you start bobbing, Steves cock twitching from the good feeling you’re giving him. You can feel that Steve’s different, not as willingly as Bucky is. Not as desperate.

“Fuck- Y/N, hold still for me”, Steve growls. You stop, cock still in your mouth, saliva slowly dripping from your mouth to your chin and on the floor. But you’re pretty sure that your mouth is not the only thing dripping from wetness.

“Be a fucking good girl and stay like this.” It’s his last warning before he starts fucking your mouth himself. He’s panting, growling, grunting. But he’s not the only one. Someone close behind you is also softly moaning.

Steve’s cock triggers your reflexes, making you choke multiple times, but he doesn’t stop. If all, it’s a turn on for him.

“Buck, Sarge, fuck- Come here”, Steve commands. You start to realize that it’s not Bucky who’s in charge here. It’s Steve. And by the looks of it, they’ve done this more than once.

“Gladly”, you hear, making you squirm already. What’s going to happen?

You look at Steve and he’s still looking at you, still fucking his cock in your mouth. He pushes a bit further, which makes you moan around his cock and that results in a hard groan from Steve.

“Good girl”, he says before tearing his eyes away from you and to the other hot soldier. His hands let go of your head again and pulls back, releasing his cock from your mouth.

He crashes his lips Bucky’s, something you didn’t expect, but boy did you like it. This was definitely not the first time. Hell, it looks like they did this every fucking day.

You crawl away from the two of them. Now it’s your time to enjoy the show. They get pretty into it, touching and groping each other. Bucky’s quickly moaning into Steve’s mouth as Steve grabs his cock.

You feel a new heat going through your body. You’re not sure what’s hotter: the fact that they’re practically jerking each other off in front of you, or that Bucky went from dominant to obedient in seconds. Or maybe even the fact that this is a regular thing.

All things together made you squirm, it made you desperate for some pressure down there. And since those two were so into each other, you had no other option than to just start yourself.

You place yourself on the bed, panties lost somewhere on the way. Your finger finds your clit quickly as you watch. Steve’s big hand around Bucky’s cock and Bucky’s metal hand around Steve’s. God, their bodies must be created by angels. Every inch of them is perfectly muscled and tanned.

A small moan leaves your mouth, which caught their attention. Bucky looks surprised, unsure on how Steve will react, but Steve’s just chuckling. “Enjoying it, babygirl?”

You nod. “Yes, Captain. Very much.”

He grins, but quickly focusses on Bucky again. “Why don’t you take over from her, Sarge? Replace those fingers with your tongue.”

You swallow hard at his words, but you don’t stop fingering. Bucky walks towards you, cock jumping with every step he takes. He gives you a playful wink before getting on his knees, hands widening your knees. “Fuck, Cap, look at that.”

You want to remove your fingers, but Bucky gives you a quick warning to keep going. And so you do.

Steve slowly strokes his cock, watching you pleasure yourself. Both men are actually watching you finger yourself. A little whine comes out of your mouth. “Please Sarge, I want your mouth”, you beg, too worked up to feel ashamed.

“Come on, Buck, do as she says. She deserves it”, Steve says. God how much you want to kiss him for saying that. As you were to open your mouth to thank him, Bucky yanks your fingers out of the way and dives his tongue in there, ripping a loud moan out of you.

He circles around your clit, making 8-figures with his tongue. His lips join, gently nibbling at your clit. You’re slowly drifted to the edge, but Bucky knows how to speed that up if he decides it’s time to press a digit into your pussy.

Steve sits next to you and watches Bucky eat you out. Eyes full of lust. You watch him, taking him all in. It’s so fucking sexy that he’s taking charge. How he brought some new energy to this room.

A second finger is being added into your pussy as Bucky pumps in and out of you. You’re a whimpering mess under him, begging him to keep going, to never stop.

“How does she taste, Buck?”, Steve asks. You’re almost whining when Bucky removes his tongue to answer Steve.

“She’s a fucking five star menu. Want a taste?”

Steve grins at the answer. “Move”, is the only thing he says. Bucky smirks and moves, dropping himself next to you. His metal hand squeezing your breast, the other one supporting him to stay on his side.

Another moan rips out of you, from the deepest of your lungs. “Ahhhh, fuck- Steve, fuck yes, feels so good! I’m so close, so close-”

He quickly starts pumping in and out of you with his fingers too, three are now in you, aiming for your release. He curls them, tipping you over the edge. Toes curling, back arching, head in the pillow. You scream both their names. Steve, Bucky, Steve, Steve, Bucky, Bucky.

“Want to be fucked, babygirl?”, Bucky asks if Steve gets his mouth and fingers away from you. “Want our cocks in your pussy?”

You look at him with pleading eyes as you nod. If you talk now, you’re sure it’d sound as weak as a trapped prey.

Steve hovers over you, cock immediately pressuring your overstimulated clit again. “Answer him, doll.” His voice is dark, low and so fucking hot.

“Yes, Sarge. I want your cocks. Both of them. Please, fuck me.” You feel dizzy. You need it, your pussy is begging for it. You need someone to fuck you.

Steve decides to tease you first, his tip teasing your entrance. You buck up, trying to get more of his cock in you. Bucky sees and pinches your nipple a little harder, making you moan. It’s pleasuring but painful at the same time.

“Gotta have patience, babygirl. If you’re a good girl for us, we will let you come.” Steve smiles darkly at you. You know he means it and you’re not willing to risk anything and so you lay still. You barely even dare to breath. You want to cum around his cock.

But he pulls back. You want to whine but decide to be smarter than that. Be a good girl and you get to come.

“Sarge, open her up nicely for me”, he says as he pulls back.

Bucky now quickly gets between your knees. He decides that you’ve been teased enough and pushes directly in you without warning. It’s painful but bearable.

He sets a pace that has your eyes rolled back into your head. Slamming in to you as if he’s been waiting for years.

“F-f-fuck.” It’s all you manage to say.

Steve’s grabbing some lube and puts it on his cock while he watches how Bucky destroys you. You poke your feet in his back, steading yourself since you have a feeling what’s coming. You don’t want to come before the fun has even started.

As Steve takes place behind Bucky, you bite onto his shoulder, trying not to scream out of pleasure.

Bucky’s pace falters. Steve’s probably working him put with his fingers, teasing his hole. A high-pitched moan now coming from Bucky’s mouth.

Steve works him up quickly, adding one finger first, but adding a second one after a few seconds.

After adding a bit more lube on his cock, Steve slowly pushes into Bucky, who pushes into you. All three of you moan. Steve begins setting a pace, a low growl coming out of his mouth. Buckys cock is settling deeper and deeper with each thrust. You can feel his cock twitching.

You’re the first one who says something and you hope you’re not getting punished for it. You can’t get punished for it. You won’t be able to handle it.

“Fuck. S-Steve, Capt-tain, S-Sarge. I- I’m c-coming.” It’s a miracle that those words were formed in your brain, that’s how great it felt.

As his cock hits your sensitive spot, you’re done for. There’s no sound coming out of your mouth. Your walls clamping on to Bucky’s cock. You scratch his back as you stare from Bucky to Steve, who are both watching you come undone.

Bucky’s now the one who’s close. You can feel it, he’s so close, cock twitching with every push from Steve.

“S-Stevie. I’m not g-gonna last.”

Steve’s pace gets slower, his eyebrows quirk up. “Who am I?”

Bucky has his eyes closed, probably too focused on not coming into your pussy.  “Captain!”, he yells. Steve reacts immediately and slams into Bucky, pace faster than before. And that’s all Bucky needs to be driven over the edge.

You moan too, your oversensitive pussy being completely devoured as they keep pushing into you. Bucky’s seed is painting your walls, his fingers clamping the sheets.

Steve’s still lasting. You’re not sure how he does it, but you think it’s the serum. He stops pumping into Bucky and frees his cock again.

“Go rest, Sarge. I need to finish”, he says. Your cheeks were red from stimulation, but his words made you blush. He needed you for his own pleasure.

Steve’s in between your legs. “Want my cock, huh?”

You nod. “Yes, please, Captain.” As ashamed you should be for wanting another orgasm, your shame has left you long ago.

The captain doesn’t show mercy and slams into you, making you squeal. Skin is slapping on skin, balls bouncing against your hole.

“Fuck, you’re such a naughty girl, taking our cocks.” His words help you to another orgasms. It rips out of you so easily as if it’s your first. You moan, walls now clamping to Steve’s cock.

He groans, pace sloppy. Warm seed fills you, Steve’s forehead against yours. His whole body is shaking as he comes. It’s so hot, but you’re all out of energy to feel anything anymore.

Steve slides out of you, head resting on your breasts for a second before rolling next to you. You watch him for a second before turning your head to Bucky.

He gets a towel and some water. They both take care of you and clean you up. It’s like they switched in two seconds. From demanding to soft.

“Uh, so, sorry for your dress”, Bucky says when you’re all cleaned up. You’re underneath a blanket, no spare clothing to wear.

You chuckle. “I asked for it”, you wink. Steve laughs lowly as he pulls you closer. It’s a nice warm feeling. It’s safe, you feel safe.

“I have a few questions”, you say, eyeing the both of them. Steve only looks at you, waiting for the questions to come. Bucky halts you, cutting you off before you can even start.

“That’s very nice, doll. But those questions can wait. Me and Steve’ve been watching you for a while. Wanna safe those questions for a date?”

_____

Tags:

@cametobuyplums @thamuddagirl @tranquil--heart @buckmesideways22 @stuck-y-together @buckysthot

[rebelwith0utacause]

It’s 2 am, but it’s a music tag, so I’m doing it. Thanks @5sosofficial, sleep can wait ✌😌✌ 

Edit: it’s 4 am, and I’m a long-winded bitch, so everything goes under the line.

Right, so, first order of business, 20 songs on shuffle:

5SOS - Talk Fast

The Band CAMINO - Berenstein

Phillip Phillips - Miles

Nao - Bad Blood

You Me @ Six - Liquid Confidence (Nothing To Lose)

Yves Tumor - Noid

Patric Fiori - Que Tu Reviennes

Bigflo & Oli - Dommage

Dido - Hunter

Anarbor - Tasty

5SOS - Empty Wallets

TOOL - Vicarious

Roseburg, Kellin Quinn - RIP

Jack’s Mannequin - Dark Blue

While She Sleeps - I’VE SEEN IT ALL

OK Go - Another Set Of Issues

Galantis - Runaway (U & I)

Zayn - BoRdErSz

While She Sleeps - GATES OF PARADISE

Julie Zenatti - Si Je M’en Sors

10 songs I’ve been listening to in no particular order:

Architects - Gone With The Wind

X Ambasadors - Unconsolable

Onlychild - Teeth

Bring Me The Horizon - Teardrops

While She Sleeps - FAKERS PLAGUE

5SOS - Thin White Lies

Architects - Animals

ASL - Voodoo

Ina Wroldsen - Sea

Normandie - Holy Water

10 albums that influenced my taste and made me a music snob (with commentary):

1. Linkin Park - Meteora

I think I’ve already talked about this, but I was in my early teens when this album came out, and I had a classmate that liked rock(ish music) so I went to the local CD shop that sold burned CDs (we won’t talk about it, 90s and 00s Macedonia was in a different century than the rest of the world) and asked for something cool and rock, and they gave me this CD. Now, like the nosy music nerd I was, I decided to play it once before I gave him the CD. Long story short, loved it so much, ended up buying him a picture frame and keeping the CD for myself. The angst in Chester’s voice and the tiny electronic twists together with the dark tunes made my teenage years (and still do) bearable.

2. Kyo - Le Chemin

I was maybe 9 when I first heard these guys on TV and fell in love with the guy in the red shirt. This was around the time I started understanding a bit of French and it certainly helped when a few years later I found a copy of this baby in our local French Institute. I’ve been listening to a lot of French music throughout the years, but nothing compares to this album. It made me understand emotions in French if that makes sense. There’s always a dark undertone to every song and I love how Ben’s able to infuse his voice with enough desperation/anguish/urgency while still talking about love.

3. Maroon 5 - Songs About Jane

Early teens again, on a vacation in Montenegro, bought it from a shop right off the beach lmao. The cover looked dope, and it was 2 euros. Mainly bought it because I loved that there was Jane in the title, a male name in Macedonian, also the name of the guy I had a crush on. When I went back to camp, he played it for me and he liked it as well (he was an employee there and a biiiiiiiit older than me). Little did I know that the syncopation, the embellishments and the raw energy Adam sang with in (only) this album was gonna make me compare every pop album to this one for years to come. This is like IT for me when it comes to pop music, even if it’s not entirely pop.

4. Six Pack - Minut Cutanja

I was 13, my brother wasn’t at home, so I decided to raid his computer for music. “Borrowed” a lot of punk music and this album which was titled just Six Pack. I didn’t really listen to Serbian music (tbh, I turned my nose at it bcs I thought it was something older people did, or ppl with no taste), let’s just say that living in a post-Yugoslavia world as a kid was fkn weird (@httpsgfg might agree). But there’s this song called 2 Minuta Straha (2 Minutes of Fear) which served as a soft transition to punk (punk-rock) for me, and consequently heavier rock and metal. Like, it’s such a great album, and made me open to finding other ex-Yu bands that sounded modern before their time.

5. Opeth - Blackwater Park

It was late 2007 and I made my first friend in high school (other than the ppl I already knew). She was this goth type that had a brother in a band and she listened to a lot of the music he listened to. Long story short, she showed me Bleak and that was IT for me. Loved the oriental vibes, the distorted guitars and the growls so fkn much. To this day I’m a growl > scream girl, and Mikael Akerfeldt’s to blame. Like... his growl is so smooth and homogenous, I love it, and wait until you hear his clean vocals. Top that all off with the jazzy solos and acoustic-sounding guitars, just makes it all so perfect damn it!

6. Avenged Sevenfold - Avenged Sevenfold

2007-2009 was definitely my a7x moment. I started my journey with Waking The Fallen, but The White Album (self-titled) was the pivotal one for me. There’s just something about the complexity of the composition, like the drums are fkn vicious, the guitars are more technical but also more melodic and the lyrics are liakfjndjflsdkjn! It’s also the album The Rev wrote some of my all-time faves like Brompton Cocktail, Afterlife and Almost Easy, and in hindsight... no, don’t want to think about it. But yeah, it set the bar for modern metal music for me.

7. Queensryche - Operation Mindcrime

Now, where do I fkn start with this one. Found it in 2009 or 2010, the peak of my prog metal days and I was just blown away that someone thought to create banger sonics with a banger backstory. Queensryche (at least those bandmembers back then) were absolutely genius in their craft, and I’m just sad they never got to make another album similar in quality.

8. Alice In Chains - Dirt

Back in the day, I really hated grunge, and if I’m being honest, I still hate Nirvana with a passion, hated the fact that musically they weren’t the best but got so famous post-mortem. I mean it’s not their fault, it’s their fans’ fault for being such dicks lbr. But in 2010 I bit the bullet and played me some AIC. I was trying to broaden my horizons so to speak, and grunge was next in line. Layne’s vocals had me hook, line and sinker. I’ve been a fan ever since and I even gave Soundgarden and Pearl Jam a chance.

9. The Police - Synchronicity

My mom’s to blame for this, she’s always liked them, and I used to listen to a lot of ska-influenced music as a kid (I still love it today). I think Synchronicity was the peak of their musicianship as a band and it’s just such an evergreen album. Like... It doesn’t sound like something produced in 1983, yknow? Sting is a mf genius.

10. Ludovico Einaudi - Divenire

The beginning of the last decade was a weird time for me music-wise. I think I wanted to make myself appear more grown-up in the eyes of ppl, and I got a lot of shit for listening to metal. So I went in all sorts of directions, from grunge, to pop-rock (ATL, Paramore that kinda thing), post-rock radio hits and even a bit of minimalist classical music and instrumentals. I used to play classical guitar, so this wasn’t really anything new, but the minimalist subgenre definitely was. I think I could classify my taste as sounding modern/timeless, I really don’t like music that’s stuck in a certain decade, and this album, or more like the song Divenire because that’s the one I’ve played the most, is exactly it. I could be 80 and still listening to this, thinking it just got released. This man is a genius.

Alright, almost 2 hrs after I first started writing this, I’m tagging: @tigerteeff @pxrxmoore @karajaynetoday @wheniminouterspace @httpsgfg or anyone who wants to do it. I guess I missed a few albums, but it is what it is.

xx

[lunar-lair]

So uh,,,,,,,some more important notes on Thomas for this AU

He's an excellent swimmer-big duh, I know, but I thought I'd mention it. He's also able to hold his breath Super Duper Long and that makes his singing better sometimes too. (On the whole, since mermaids can breath underwater (AND above water air!) they breathe Super Well, but to do some of their Powery Shit, sometimes they need a bit more breath than a human would even be *capable* of, so they can sing for super duper long and it's basically Super unlikely for a mermaid to have breathing problems unless their species is predisposed to it. And of course, all of this extends to Sirens, bc Of Course babey.) I'm debating on maybe having him be able to hold it long enough to visit the sides' grotto or smth? Like idk if I wanna keep him a Mostly Normal Human or curve him a *liiittle* more towards Weirdness. Idk, maybe

He gets certain concentrated spots of dryness on his skin, specifically his legs and shit. They're basically old scale genes trying to find their way back in and Failing yknow? His whole family deals with it and they just called it dry skin for the most part. His hair is also Super Thick. This is also A Thing.

His family *knows* they're descendant to a siren-it's about 5 or so generations up I guess. Whoever Fucked The Fish got the tail-end of basic sirens...basically. So not SUPER distant but distant enough that it's like. 8% of their DNA at this rate yknow. And they don't exactly keep it...a *secret?* Like it's not like some Shameful Family Secret or some shit, some of them have actually *talked* to mermaids or sirens at some point in their lives, but they don't just...*tell it* to new members, yknow? They...let them find out themselves, if they ever do-just like Thomas did-and *then* lift the veil.

So basically Thomas went to his parents like 'ok so I KNOW you guys are gonna think I'm INSANE but um,,,,,,,I met some mermaids-'

'Oh yeah mermaids! Yeah we know those exist'

',,,,,,w. Well. They told me I was probably a descendant of a siren-'

'Ah yeah, your great-great-great grandma was a siren. Tail end of the basic ones, they just started having males show up. We have some old documents and stuff, you wanna see?'

',,,,,,,,,,,su re???'

Wild interaction for Thomas, at the very least

Starting the *day* he was able to talk, that boy has been *singing.* Most of his family have excellent voices, but due to his power, people were drawn to it even *more.* And even though most of them had their own little powers, some of them didn't even like singing, and so they maybe never even learned they had anything close to a power in the first place. Thomas though...he *loved* it.

He definitely had some conflict at first like 'wait are any of my friendships real? Have I just kept them here with my singing????? hhhHHHHHH,,,'

Thomas will sometimes bring his phone to the edge of the beach and play some music and sing along. Eventually, if any of the sides get close enough, they feel his signature Pull (when anyone's close enough to Thomas' voice, they can feel the Pull of his power kinda; esp mermaids, as they're *used* to sensing pulls like that.) and call the others. They all gather around the beach and listen to human music, which Thomas will sometimes translate to Mer Speak. Sometimes they'll just listen to it. Often, they'll sing songs that they already all know together, either in mer or human. (Specifically English, but they don't understand Any of it At All, so.) Sometimes Thomas will come out to the beach and just start singing, and the sides will eventually come out to sing with him, if they have the time. They'll just adlib together, all of them somehow knowing the song they're singing, Patton broadcasting happiness and soft feelings and making sure everyone seems ok, maybe the twins doing a little dance or even Janus joining in, dancing in their own little mermaid way. Virgil makes sure they're left alone (in every situation) and Logan softly sings where he usually hums; it's rare to hear him sing so softly, if he does. They all treasure it. The twins, even, soften up, singing softer and leaving their vibrato at the door.

Ever since he was Tiney, he's loved the ocean. It's always called to him, and he's always stayed close to beaches and lakes and the like. The more ocean he's close to, the calmer he is babey. He went for ocean biology in college (he probably actually works in the field) and I've *just* decided that after the sides told them their powers and shit he asked abt their species and after they told him he BARRAGED them w questions about their behavior

He promised *immediately* not to record them or ever *expose* them or whatever wild shit a random evil scientist in a movie with a crazy rare wild animal would do. Learning about them, though, was *amazing,* and he never even wrote anything down.

One day, Thomas' parents insisted on meeting his Mermaid Friends and he was like 'sure ok'. So he brought them to the beach and introduced them. Janus was like '!!!! Oh shit I've seen them before!' and so were the twins.

Janus recognized them from his Loner Days, when he used to lie to humans to make them do stupid shit. They just said hi though-in a language he understood. Just two nice humans he ran across on a pier.

The twins don't *really* remember them, just barely, but the couple ran into them when they were around 11, a little after they were abandoned, with a young Thomas. They talked just a small bit, and Thomas doesn't really remember them; it seemed a little insignificant, since they just seemed like swimmers. He said hi to them, not realizing he was speaking oddly, and they were on their way. The couple didn't get a chance to talk to the seemingly *very young* couple of mermaids again, but they never really forgot about them.

The parents are like '!!!!' at all three of them like 'oh yeah you!!!' Janus is like 'oh Thomas, you didn't tell me your parents were that couple I met who knew our tongue that one time.'

The two ask the twins about why they were on their own. They've worked through a lot of that shit, but it still stings a bit.

Remus took his old place behind Roman, like he used to, and they both looked down, Roman rubbing his hand against his neck and laughing nervously. "Uh...we were. Abandoned. At about 10 years old."

"We were all we had," Remus muttered from behind him. Patton moved over and rested a hand on both of their shoulders with a sad frown.

Thomas' mother gave a similarly sad frown and gave a small pet to both boys' heads before brushing their hair back. "I'm...terribly sorry. It's never right for a parent to abandon their kin."

Roman and Remus simply stare and blush a bit, moving away and taking a place at the back of the group where they can simply sit and think,

'*we haven't felt a motherly touch like that in so, so long.*'

Thomas' father spread plenty of dad jokes that Patton had fun with and they talked (and maybe sang) some more before leaving.

They kept visiting after that, usually with Thomas and rarely without.

Needless to say that they basically became the local adoptive parents, *especially* to the twins.

At least Janus finally gets some help in keeping these dumbasses healthy and in line.

[pengychan]

[Coco] Chica

Title: Chica Summary: Coco has learned this nice skeleton man she's with doesn't have a family - in the sense she does. And midway through the night she quietly offers, "You can be in mine." [Protagonist Swap AU.] Characters: Héctor Rivera, Coco Rivera Rating: K

A/N: This fic was written for @twinklecupcake -  they asked for a scene from their AU where Coco is the one who winds up in the LotD, thinking Ernesto is her father, and of course Héctor helps her. I had a lot of fun writing this - hope you like it!

***  

“All right, Chica, here’s the plan,” Héctor says, glancing around to make sure the way - the skies especially, what has this little girl done to piss off Pepita so much? - are clear. He supposes that the girl has a name, but chica will do. She has apparently decided not to share her name and Héctor doesn’t really mind: he knows better than he’d like that, sometimes, it’s best to keep quiet about who you are.

Granted, it’s odd to imagine a kid that young on the ran from border officers and occasionally a couple of loan sharks, but then again she does have Pepita at her heels; this is the second time she’s tried to corner them, too. Not that it matters: whatever she may have done, she’s just a kid. Far too young to be trapped there, far too young to die. She has to go home tonight… and possibly with his photo, so that he can cross the bridge too.

See his little girl.

The thought makes him feel like something has grasped a phantom heart in his chest cavity and squeezed. The thought of the glimmer, that sensation earlier by the bridge - something is going on, it’s Coco, Coco is in trouble and I must go to her - stings, but he forces himself to push it in the back of his mind.

Chica frowns up at him. “Yes?” she asks, and Héctor realizes he just fell silent after going ‘here’s the plan’. Not very reassuring to a kid whose life is literally at stake, and he smiles. When he speaks again, his voice is upbeat as it can get.

“The way into your papá’s mansion is to win the contest, sí? We’ll go to a good friend of mine to borrow a guitar, and then we’re off,” Héctor says, “We’ll take part, win, get to the party - you meet and greet, and you get your blessing. A child’s play.”

Chica’s excited grin wavers, and she looks down. “I don’t know how to play a guitar. And I’m… not very good at singing. I can’t really do that at home.”

Ay, what a family of killjoys this kid has got. Still, better than no family at all; Héctor will drop anything musical in a heartbeat to have them back for just one hour. “But you can dance, no? Let me do the playing and singing, and just dance.”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, you can do it! I’ve seen you back there with the Fridas. Almost stole the scene,” he adds with a grin, kneeling down to be at her same eye level. And he means it: it was almost mesmerizing to watch her dance. She was quick on her feet, full of life, and seemed almost weightless while she twirled. What she may lack in technique, she made up for with the sheer joy that shone through each  movement, each bounce of her little braids and the smile on her face.

Coco tried to dance, when I left. Jumped around like a crazed cricket whenever she heard music. I wonder if she still does it - she must have gotten so much better. Does she think of me when she dances?

“Really?” Chica looks up, entirely unaware of Héctor’s thoughts. She seems taken aback; it is clear that she was never before praised for her dancing.

Héctor nods so fast his teeth almost chatter. “Really! Hey, you got the right genes, you know? Your papá can dance. Mistreated the strings of his guitar and wrote some songs that would have got him killed if he ever sang them to a girl, but hey, he is a good dancer.”

That makes Chica roll her eyes. Later on - at the bottom of a cenote - he will realize what is so familiar about that gesture, about the way she tilts back her head. It’s how Imelda always did it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mutters, but any trace of annoyance fades quickly into excitement. “Maybe he’ll give me a few tips,” she says, sounding so hopeful. “He left before he could teach me.”

And I can’t understand how could he, Héctor thinks, but of course he has no high ground to stand on. He left, too. Always meant to come back, but… well. He died, and the bottom line was that he had left and never returned. Did Coco wish for dance lessons, too?

The thought stings, and he reaches to ruffle Chica’s hair before he stands up. “Of course he’ll teach you. It’s what a papá does,” he says. He tries to sound cheery, but this time the act doesn’t come as easy… and the bitter remark that leaves him the next moment comes without any thought at all. “Not that I’d know much about being a good papá. I sort of… messed up the entire ‘family’ thing.”

That causes the girl to frown, and reach into the pocket of her dress to pull out his picture. She looks at it, and her frown turns into something sadder. “... Is that why they don’t put up your picture?” she asks. Héctor sighs.

“Yes. There was… a bad decision, some miscommunication, a bad choice of meal - should have known, that place looked seedy - and I just… wound up here. And I can’t really set things right on this end. But that will change once you put up that photo on an ofrenda! I’ll cross over and--”

“But they won’t see you,” Chica says. She means nothing by it, of course, and he knows it is true - he can only hope she will somehow sense him there - but it stings nonetheless. His flinch doesn’t escape her, and she immediately looks terribly sorry. “Lo siento, I didn’t mean-- I--”

Héctor sighs, and turns. “It’s all right, gordita. We’ve got to get going to get that guitar, and then--” a sudden pull at his sleeve causes him to pause, and he looks down to see a small skeletal hand holding onto it. His eyes shift slowly to her little face, to the large eyes looking up at him. She looks so sad, and her voice is little more than a whisper.

“You can be in mine.”

Qué?

For a moment or two, Héctor can only stare. He knows it wasn’t meant to be a blow, but it sure feels like one, the kind that would blow all air out of his lungs if he had any. He opens his mouth to speak and then he… doesn't. Within him, an ache that never leaves him fades for a few moments before flaring up again, worse than it’s been in years.

Last time it hurt like this was when Imelda had died of a fever and he found out, in the worst way, why he could never cross over.

“Go away!” “Imelda, I--” “Leave! Now!” “I tried to cross-- my photo, it was never--” “Why would we put it up? You left us!” “I… I did, but-- our family--” “My family! Not yours! Never yours!”

“My family,” Chica is saying, her grip tightening on his sleeve. “It’s small, and my uncles don’t like music, but it’s nice. I think you would like them. I can put your picture up every year, and you can visit us. I’ll leave you food, and nice shoes. We make the best shoes,” she adds. Later on, that is something he’ll think he should have picked up; Imelda sounded like that, too.

But right now, he doesn’t notice; he only blinks quickly, trying to ignore the ache in his ribcage.

Part of him wishes to say yes, so much. To know that somewhere in the living world there will be a family for him - one that cannot pass on his story, as none of them met him in life, but that will still put up his photo. A little girl who will make an ofrenda for him, give him offerings, excitedly wait for his visit and smile in the knowledge he’ll be there, even if she cannot see him.

It is a wonderful thought.  She is a wonderful little girl.

But she is not his little girl.

I already have a family to go back to.

“My family! Not yours! Never yours!”

“Chica, that--” he pauses, and swallows before crouching down. “That is really sweet of you.”

Her gaze - almost hopeful, por Dios, she truly wants him in her family and it is so odd, being wanted - clouds with something that is sadness, hurt and disappointment all at once. “But…?”

“I already have a family to get back to, gordita,” he says, and ruffles her hair. “And you already have--” A papá. “... You don’t need me.”

“But I want you to stay with us,” she says, her voice thin. “You’re nice, and your family… if they…” Don’t want you. “... It’s like not having one at all, and it’s not fair!” She sniffles, but her eyes stay dry as she lifts her chin.

Héctor stares right back into those eyes, so large and kind and stubborn, and he finds himself thinking that wherever his Coco his, however she is doing, he truly hopes she’s growing up just like this little chica. She really is everything he hoped to see Coco become.

But I will know. I will find out. I need to cross the bridge.

“Ay, Chica, come here,” he mutters, and pulls her in a hug - or tries to. She resists, pulling away and shaking her head.

“No! Why is it… what is it that-- what is it that people don’t want to be my family?” Chica chokes out, and rubs her eyes furiously. Héctor stares, mouth agape.

“What…?”

“My papá left! I can barely remember him singing - I didn’t even know who he was until I found that ripped photo! He left and-- and he never came back-- he never wrote again, and then he died, and--!”

“Oye, oye,” Héctor murmurs, and pulls the child close. She sniffles and clings back to him, the hand that isn’t holding his photo clenching on his jacket. “It’s all right, I… I am sure your papá wanted to come back,” he manages. “He must have really wanted to come back, but you know… performing takes you far away from home. Before you know it it’s been a long time, and… well. You know, you eat the wrong thing, and that is it,” he adds.

Food poisoning of all things, doing us both in less than ten years apart. Fate has the worst sense of humor.

That is another piece of the puzzle he will put together only later - how this chica seemed just a bit too old to have been born after his death, which should bring the question of how come he’d never known his best friend had a daughter of his own - but right now, he’s not thinking of it. After all, given how said best friend went on to take all credit for his songs, he may have never known him as well as he thought he did.

The only thing that matters is that there is a child, a little girl just like his little girl, who needs his help.

Does Coco feel like this, too? God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

“I’m sure your papá will be overjoyed to meet you,” he says, rubbing her back. “I mean, who wouldn’t be?” he adds, and pulls back just enough to smile at her. “You know, I hope my daughter turned out like you.”

That causes Chica to blink, and maybe Héctor has said too much, but he’ll take the dawning comprehension on her face over her tears any day. “You’re a papá, too?”

“Sí. So, you see, I really need to go back to her. She’s about your age, you know,” he says, and he’s about to add something - but then a clock chimes in the distance, and he recoils.

What are we still doing here? We need to go. We need to get to Ernesto before it’s too late.

“... You know what, I’ll tell you about her before you go,” he says, and pats her shoulder. “Maybe you can find her, sí? I’m sure you’d be good friends. And then I’d be, say, your honorary tío, no?”

The idea makes her laugh a little. “A third tío?” she asks, making a face, and he laughs as well.

“The weird tío.”

“You don’t know how weird my uncles are.”

“The fun one, then?”

“... That sounds good,” Chica concedes, and they share another laugh before she turns serious. “I will put your photo up, and find your daughter, and tell her…” a pause. “What should I tell her?”

That her papá loves her so much. That I’m so sorry. That I really tried to go home.

With a long sigh, Héctor stands. “We’ll talk about it once we get to Ernesto. Come on, nenita - we’re off to get us a guitar.”

As he sets out walking and she follows, a spring in her step, Héctor thinks that it would be nice if she did meet Coco. Maybe they would be good friends.

And maybe she would teach her to dance all the dances they could never have.

[freddie-roger-brian-john]

I Want To Break Free (part two)

A/N - part two of my wee story for @fredthelegend ‘s writing challenge.

Warnings - swearing, wee bit of angst and fluff (like the first part)

Word count - 1.3k

——————

Freddie opened his eyes and looked to John for confirmation that everything sounded good. John was smiling and nodding at Freddie, clearly very pleased with how the song was shaping out. What he didn't see was the look on your face.

He had told you the song was about you. He had told you he had written it late at night after he had apologised for overreacting. He had promised he would try to be better.

And now he was telling you he wanted to break free from your lies and that he didn't need you.

"Is this meant to be funny?" You asked, not caring about the disappointment clear on your face. John looked at you and his smile faded.

"What?"

"Did you get me all excited just so you could feel smug?" You said. “Are you just trying to get back at me for speaking to Roger?”

"Y/N, what are you talking about?" He asked, the smile was completely gone now. His eyebrows were furrowed with concern and confusion. You just shook your head. You were trying so hard to keep calm. You knew that if you were here for much longer then you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from shouting at him.

"Maybe its best you stay at one of the guys' houses tonight," you told him, getting to your feet quickly, "and maybe for a few nights after that."

"Y/N-"

But you were already out the door. You had walked right passed Brian and Roger without even glancing at them and Freddie was staring at you through the glass, not knowing what had happened.

Tears were stinging your eyes as you reached your car and you could your lip trembling. You sat in your car for a few minutes, letting the tears fall, the occasional sob escaping your lips.

You felt so fucking embarrassed. All day you had been smiley and excited. Had John just been waiting to see that disappear? Had he been just as excited to see you hear the lyrics for the first time?

You took a deep breath and tried to calm down. The tears stopped falling and you stopped shaking. "You're ok, you're ok," you muttered to yourself before turning on the ignition and driving away from the recording studio as quickly as you could.

-

"What the hell happened?" Freddie asked as he burst into the room after you had disappeared. "What did Roger say this time?"

"Oi, it wasn't me!" Said Roger, defensively. He pointed at John. "It's Deaks she's annoyed at."

"Why?" Freddie asked, turning to look at John. Unfortunately, the latter didn't look quite ready to answer.

He was staring at the wall in front of him, clearly not able to see anything else. With his lips slightly parted and a crease between his eyebrows, it was evident that he was in a kind of daydream.

"Deaky?" Brian asked warily as the three men stared at him. Without his expression changing in the slightest, John sighed.

"I'm a fucking idiot."

The three boys glanced at each other, all exchanging a look of confusion. John finally looked at them and saw that they clearly hadn't worked it out like he had. "She thinks it's about her," he said.

"Well, it is, isn't it?" Said Roger.

"The song's about her," John explained, "but those lyrics, the ones that Freddie just sang, they aren't." They all took a moment to go over the lyrics that Freddie had sung.

I want to break free,

I want to break free from your lies,

You're so self satisfied I don't need you,

I've got to break free.

God knows, God knows I want to break free.

"Shit!" Said roger, bringing his hands up to cover his mouth. "That's not about her, the next bit's about her. Oh my god, she must think that you still think we were flirting!"

"Exactly," said john, his head falling into his hands.

"We'll go find her then!" Said Freddie, stepping forward to usher John towards the door. "You've got to tell her!"

"I know, I know," he said, pushing Freddie's pressings hands away and making his own way to the door.

"Hurry!" Brian and Roger both shouted in unison. John glanced at them one last time, quickly picking up his car keys, before darting out of the room and running outside.

Your car was gone. John could only hoped that you had went home. He ran to his own car and pressed the unlock button on his car keys.

Nothing happened.

"What the-" John looked at the keys more closely. "Shit."

He had accidentally picked up Roger's instead of his own. He debating running back inside and swapping them but there was no time. He quickly found Roger's car and got inside.

After today, if you didn't kill him, roger definitely would.

It didn't matter though, you were worth stealing Roger's beloved car.

By the time John arrived back at your house, you had already gotten inside and locked the door. He was absolutely the last person you wanted to see right now. Even so, when you heard him knocking, you had to force yourself to not let him in.

"Y/N?" He called from behind the door. "Y/N? I know what it sounded like but I swear those lyrics weren't what you think they were!" You didn't respond. You just leaned against the wall next to the door. "Come on, Y/N, I know you can hear me. I know you're listening, please just let in and I can explain everything."

"What's there to explain?" You asked. "You made your feelings perfectly clear."

"Y/N-"

"Why don't you just go and break free from my lies, Deacon? Cause apparently you don't need me."

That was when John knew that he had well and truly fucked up. Everyone in his life called him some variation of his last name. To everyone, he was Deaky or Deaks or Deacon or whatever. But with you, he was always John. His first name, whenever it left your lips, was something intimate. Hearing you call him by his last name told him that that feeling wasn't one you were experiencing now.

"Deacon?" He asked, hoping you would call him John. "Please, honey, you've got to believe me when I say this is all just a big misunderstanding.

You slid down the wall until your bum hit the floor. The tears had long since ceased cascading down your face. You sadness had been fully replaced by anger.

"Y/N?" John called out one last time. When you didn't answer, you heard a muffled sigh and a few footsteps.

You wondered whose house he would stay at tonight. Knowing John, he wouldn't want to inconvenience anyone and would end up spending the night in his car.

You were about to get up and head to your own bed when you heard a loud crash coming from the kitchen. Still on the floor, you leaned sideways to look towards the noise but the doorway was blocked by a roughed up, red faced John Deacon.

"I know you need your space after arguments and I was going to leave - I was - but the window was open and I..." he took a second to take in a deep breath of air. "I'm really sorry."

"You're sorry you wrote a shitty song about me?" You dared as he crouched down beside you.

"The song isn't about you," he said.

"But you've been saying all day that it is-"

"No, no, the song is about you," he said, "but those lyrics weren't."

"Who were those lyrics about then?" You demanded. John actually had to fight away a small smile.

"The boys," he told you.

"The boys?" You asked, still not quite believing him. He nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah," he said. "Roger and Freddie have been getting on at me to write something for days now. And Brian won't stop going on about a guitar solo, which doesn't fit the fucking song." The way he spoke - with annoyance and frustration - told you he was telling the truth.

"It's really not about me?" You asked. You were surprised to see that the tears which had stopped falling were threatening to start again. The past 24 hours had just been such a rollercoaster of emotions and the relief you were feeling was enough to make you let go.

John brought his hand up to your face and wiped away a fallen tear with his thumb.

"It's really not about you," he assured you. "The next bit is though."

"How does the next bit go?" You asked. He smiled at you, you knew he hated singing.

"I've fallen in love," he spoke, "I've fallen in love for the first time and this time I know it's for real. Yes I've fallen in love. God knows. God knows I've fallen in love."

You smiled as well and he kissed away another fallen tear.

"It's strange but it's true," he continued. "I can't get over the way you love me like you do. But I've got to be sure when you walk out that door. I've got to break free."

You both stared at each other for a long moment, taking in each other's faces.

"The song is about this beautiful face," he said, caressing your cheek, "this nose that scrunches when I kiss, these lips that I love to feel against mine. It's about these eyes and how they're the only things keeping me sane. I honestly don't know if I could cope with Queen if I didn't have someone like you to come home to."

He kissed your nose, which scrunched up just as he had predicted, and then pressed a kiss to your lips.

"I wish I could write you a song," you told him. He raised his eyebrows a little, smiling.

"Really?" He asked. "What would it be about?"

You placed your hand on top of the hand that was still holding your cheek. "This hand," you told him. "Your fingers, the rings, the veins. Unfortunately, trying to accurately describe them would take an entire album."

"Is that so?"

"Uh hu," you said. "Plus, no song would ever sound as good as these hands make me feel." You kissed his fingertips and John couldn't help but look at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"You want them to make you feel good now?" He asked. His other hand landing high up on your thigh.

"Yes," you told him. The two of you stood up and you placed a slow kiss on his neck. "I'll be waiting upstairs."

"Waiting?" He asked as you moved towards the stair case. You looked at him over your shoulder and smiled.

"I think you've got a kitchen to clean and a window to close," you told him. "Oh, and of course, a song to finish recording."

[writingdolans]

This Is Me Starting Over - Part Two: We met for a reason, either you are a blessing or a lesson. [Grayson Mini-Series]

Hello guys! First of all, I wanted to say thank you for all of the positive feedback I got for the first part of “This Is Me Starting Over”. It makes me so happy to read what you guys thought of it and to see how much you love this series. It makes my heart so happy!

Also, I wanted to say thank you for letting me take this long break! I know it was longer than people thought it would be, waaaay longer than I thought it would be as well, but it was necessary for me. But lately, I’ve been wanting to get back to writing this series and finish off the story I wanted to tell.

This part is going to be where the series really starts. So everything that happens from now on is one year after Grayson wrote that letter; so in total, it’s been 4 years since Y/N left and they are both 21. Now, without further ado, here is part two! Enjoy!

IF YOU HAVEN’T READ PART ONE OF THE SEQUEL, CLICK HERE . 

IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THE FIRST PART OF THIS MINI SERIES, CLICK HERE.  YOU WILL NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT IS GOING ON IF YOU DON’T READ THE FIRST PART OF THIS SERIES! 

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. 

“Katie please let Mr. and Mrs. Masters know we need a decision on the venue they want for their 50th-anniversary celebration” 

“Right away Y/N” 

After thanking Katie, my secretary, I leaned back on my chair as she left the room in a hurry. Letting out a long sigh, I looked over to the clock. 4:30. Just a little longer till I’m back where I belong; on my warm, comfortable bed. 

Once I was finished with the last bit of my work and the clock struck five, I packed my belongings and began heading out. Others might call this sad but the amount of excitement I was feeling at the thought of taking my heels off and watching Netflix for the rest of the day was overwhelming. That excitement died down way too soon though as I heard my name be called just as I reached the elevator

I turned around and was met by my boss and very pregnant friend, Mia, waddling over to me. 

“Y/N has anyone ever told you-you're a sight for sore eyes?” Mia asked.

I rolled my eyes and laughed as I shook my head slightly, “You’re using flattery huh? That means you must want something so spit it out, will you? I’m ready to get home to my two best friends, Ben & Jerry.”

For a second Mia acted offended, putting a hand over her heart and a pout on her face, but then she rolled her eyes and dropped the act. “You know me so well. Come with me to my office, I gotta talk to you about something.”

I shrugged in response and began heading to her office but was stopped as she pulled me back by the arm. “And sorry but as one of your closest friends, I must tell you that this is a very sad life you’re living for a 21-year-old.”

“I’m suddenly starting to reconsider this friendship,” I replied as a look of annoyance began to fill my face.

“Okay cranky, to my office we go,” Mia said before turning around and leading me to the inside of her office.

I grabbed a candy bar from a jar on her desk and slumped down on one of the chairs in front of it, “So what’s up? What do you need?”

She waddled around the desk and put her hand on her back as she slowly sat down, “well as you can see, I’m very pregnant.”

I nodded and waited for her to continue since she had just stated the obvious.

“My back has been killing me all day Y/N/N and I just feel like crap but I have a client’s event to go to today. Do you think you could go for me instead and make sure everything runs smoothly?”

A part of me wanted to cry as the thought of my Netflix and Ice cream filled afternoon began to fade away, but because I am such a good friend, I couldn’t say no to the puppy dog eyes Mia was giving me.

“Fine! But I call being Godmom to the little thing you have inside your belly” I replied.

“Consider it do- hey! That’s my baby you’re calling a thing by the way!” She said as she threw a candy wrapper at me.

“Anyway, this will help you out with tonight’s event. It’s a birthday party some couple is throwing for their daughter. Apparently, she’s coming into town to visit so we gotta make it extra special.” She explained as she handed me her work binder. “Everything has been decorated and should be ready to go so you just need to show up looking pretty and make sure everything works out perfectly. Got it?”

I nodded and looked over the binder’s pages. Mia’s attention to detail never ceased to amaze me, this is why she was so good at what she did. She was a perfectionist. “Got it, boss, you go home and get some rest.”

“I owe you one okay?” She said as she gathered her things.

I nodded and smiled as she pulled me into a hug. “And by the way, I meant it when I said you need to be looking pretty tonight. So go home and change.” I rolled my eyes and pulled away from the hug.

“This is why we can’t have good things in life Mia; you ruin them”

She waved off my snarky reply and we said our goodbyes.

—————————————————————

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I exclaimed as I honked my horn. I looked at the time and sat back as the cars around me slowly moved due to traffic. I glanced around and saw a guy laughing as a girl beside him sang her heart out to what I assumed was her favorite song. I let out a smile at the sight and sighed as I looked back to the car in front of me.

I couldn’t help but think about how much had changed in the last four years. After what happened with Grayson, I had moved back home to live with my parents for a while. I decided to continue my studies and was able to graduate from my University a year early. I got a job in the company I was interning for earlier on in the year and was saving up to get my own place. I guess you could say I had everything going for me. But if someone were to ask me right now, on the spot, if I was happy, I wouldn’t know how to answer that.

Some might call me stupid for it but I can’t truly say I am happy. Is there a chance that it is because I haven’t fully moved on? I don’t believe so. I consider that part of my life to be over. But I can’t say that from time to time I don’t think about it because I do, and it still stings a bit. Even if it is the smallest bit. But I never dwell on it and I won’t start now, because like my favorite quote says, we met for a reason, either you are a blessing or a lesson. 

And for me, he was my lesson. 

I brought myself out of my thoughts as I parked the car and headed inside. Mia and I had different definitions of what “looking pretty” meant. If it was up to me, I would wear jeans and a shirt and be on my way; but since this is Mia we are talking about, I guess a dress or a skirt with a blouse it is.

—————————————————————

I walked around the venue, binder in hand, and spoke with the people Mia had hired for the night about their respective jobs. Everything was going smoothly, just as she said it would. The guests were all here and the family seemed to be happy with the outcome. I sighed in content at the thought of almost being done for the night.

After speaking with some of the guests, I walked over to one of the waiters and got a drink from her tray, “Thank you.”

She nodded and kept walking around the crowd of people. A few moments later, I noticed the crowd began to move to one particular side of the venue. My brows furrowed as I heard gasps and noticed people were whispering to one another. I began making my way into the crowd, worrying something had gone wrong. Once I was further into it, I could hear a man speaking. It seemed he was making a speech of some sort.

You would think I would have relaxed after seeing nothing out of the ordinary was going on, but instead, my body tensed up and my heart began to race at an abnormal pace. My vision began to blur as I focused on the two people standing in the center of the crowd.

There was a couple embracing one another as if both their lives depended on it; and once they pulled apart after what felt like forever, the girl standing before us waved her hand in the air, beaming as she showed off the sparkling diamond on her wedding ring finger. Everyone around me moved to congratulate the couple as I stood still. Because it wasn’t until my eyes met those of the newly engaged man that I was brought out of my trance.

“Grayson.”

... Please don’t hate me! Hope you enjoyed reading part two and tell me what you think is going to happen on this sequel.  

[amberw369-blog]

I had the toughest dream I had in a while...

And it is graphic. Reader discretion is advised. (Note, I might update this as I had limited time to write it down. It isn't as graphic as it was in my dream, but I intend to complete it) (Update: I cannot recall the graphic details anymore, but this pretty much sums it up.)

I, the dreamer, was watching all this in the perspective of a viewer, but I associated with a trans man as being "me". So, from this point on I will use the terms "I", "my", "me", and "we" in the adventure I bore witness to.

It is senior year in a private school. We wore sunset red colours, and damn did I look good. Strapping, strong, and reaching ever closer to my ideal form. My peers respected me, and I like pretty much everyone I ever met. That is, until I fell in love with a man.

He was new to town. He didn't have the classic handsome appearance. He was taller than me by about a head's length, and broad strong shoulders that hunched a bit in improper alignment, rolling forward so you can see the back of his hands. He didn't have a very welcoming face; it was more like he was mad in a non-brooding way. It was more intimidating like he could have been a secret serial killer and debating on if he would wear your skin (even though his skin was nearly flawless in itself). He wore his uniform a little too neatly, and his hands poked out large and heavily from the jacket sleeves.

He stood akwardly strong, and I watched everyone avoid him. Being me, I just went up to him, introduced myself (giving him the name I picked out myself, Ambrose), and asked him if he needed help. His response was low and quiet. I almost couldn't hear him, and he shifted his gaze away from me.

And all I could think of was how cute and sweet he looked to me.

It didn't take long to get to know Ben. He opened up once you started talking about the things he likes (lifting weights, strange and intellectual topics, infusing various herbs in alcohol, etc). He would just light up every time I asked about those things, and he would become curious about what I like.

Over time, I grew more fond of him. I introduced him to everyone, and everyone eventually relaxed and related to him. I was glad he became well received.

Ben and I spent as much time as we could. He taught me about weight lifting techniques (making my physique stronger and more masculine in appearance), and I would take him out after school for philosophical debates at the local diner.

I never got the chance to tell him of my background. It didn't seem to have mattered (I liked him, but it was only a crush, right?), until he made an advance in his interest in me.

It was late at night, and we were at my place. Everyone else was asleep in the house, but we were watching a movie. The glow of the television screen illuminated us in the darkness. Due to the small size of the couch, we had to sit rather close, almost intimately.

I didn't mind; my heart fluttered, and Ben seemed comfortable with my presence. Instead, I focused hard on the screen, trying to invest myself into the characters whom made a grave mistake in adventuring into a house that was haunted by an evil resident.

Then I felt my heart skip a beat when Ben slipped his arm around my shoulder. He placed a gentle hand on my newly defined masculine pec, circling his thick fingers in a soft massage.

I felt my body heat rise, and the blood pumped harder in my ears and in my groin. I felt like I was swelling up, and I tried to compress myself back to normal.

I looked up at him, and I whispered to him I was once female. I didn't want to lie to him.

"So?"

And we kissed, making out during the screams of the horror flick as the antagonist tore into the flesh of its victims.

We kept our relationship to ourselves. We are both shy when it comes to sharing emotions to others, and I think we did pretty well in keeping up a platonic appearance.

Now it is autumn. Our uniforms match the falling leaves of the season, and it is like we became a part of the scenery.

Sadly a new crime spree emerged since the end of summer. People experienced break ins and vandalism. Luckily no one was hurt and nothing was ever stolen, but I heard from some of the victims that the vandals wrote in blood symbols and markings. Of course everyone screamed Satanism, but I read into Satanism: this isn't Satanism.

I was waiting in Ben's house. He went out to pick up some food for dinner. I didn't feel good enough to go out (despite my appearance, I still had the female organs and theeeeeey suuuuuuck).

I was getting comfortable on the couch when someone knocked on the door. I ignored it since it wasn't my house, but the banging became more violent. I grabbed one of my bats (good thing I am on the baseball team, right?), and I got closer to the window near the door.

It was a girl. Short, curly blonde hair. She was wearing a mask, but definitely wearing a girl's school uniform.

"What the-" WHACK!

Darkness.

----------------

Ben woke up in his basement. The bright lights sting his eyes as he woke up with a pulsating headache. There is a cauldron in the middle of the room and red painted symbols on the concrete flooring. The room smelt heavily of roses, and the aroma attacked his sinuses.

The blonde haired girl walked into the room. She put on a sweet smile and hummed her way to Ben. She gave him a tight hug, and she sighed.

"It is almost ready, sweetie." Her voice sang in a high note.

"What's going on?"

The girl let go and gathered other supplies from the table. "Oh I can't tell you that, hon. If I did, it wouldn't work."

The door burst open and slamming into the wall. A younger man came barging into the room. His face is red and fuming.

"The spell didn't work. Amber didn't go for me at all. And then she did this!" He pointed to his face where a red mark was surfacing.

"Oh, you!" The girl huffed in annoyance. "Timing is everything! You should still be able to do it again if you have enough supplies." She then waved at him to leave.

"Fuck this! I am just going to do what I want!"

The boy turned on his heel and was about the stomp his way out when Ben pulled him back. His serial-killer face spelt out doom to the guy when Ben realized this scum was talking about Ambrose. And THIS decrepit human was talking about hurting HIS boyfriend?

The blonde girl squealed in fear, and all visage of the dream ended there.