#PLEASE HE IS PERFECT AS THE EMCEE

[the0retically]

The fact that people are bashing Eddie Redmayne’s version of the Emcee are not understanding the point of Cabaret at all

The fact that every single one of his movements is jerky just shows how he is like a puppet. He is not in control of the story, he is not in control of the outcome, he is simply there to tell the tale. He has no autonomy of his own

He is the Master of Ceremonies, he should be moving by himself and making his own decisions but everyone at the Kit Kat Club is fast asleep

The Emcee is the only one aware of how this story ends but he is powerless to change anything about it

[corroded-hellfire]

Scout's Honor - Eddie Munson x Reader

Collaboration with my dearest @munson-blurbs

An As You Wish story

Summary: The annual Father-Daughter Girl Scout Square Dance comes around but Eddie and Steve are saddled with some car trouble.

Note: Everyone needs to go thank Bug for this incredibly adorable idea!

Words: 2.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Men. 

Can’t live with them, can’t…convince them not to go fishing on the day of their daughters’ Girl Scouts events. 

Eddie and Steve had promised you and Nancy that they would be home in time to take Eliza and Mia to the annual square dance. 

“We’ll get an early start,” they’d said, ignoring Eliza’s insistence that she won’t go with her father if he reeks of fish. He’d just laughed, kissed her cheek, and reiterated that he would shower before the dance. 

Maybe you’re naive for believing him. And yet, when the phone rang and Eddie’s sheepish voice explains that Steve’s car broke down—codeword for ‘we ran out of gas’—you’re wholly unsurprised. 

“I always made fun of Wayne for fishing.” Eddie muses, the payphone crackling as he exhales. “Called it an old man activity. This is what I get.”

You grit your teeth, hand clenched in a fist. “Just…get home,” you hiss, hanging up the receiver and massaging your temples. 

Who could have ever foreseen such an outcome?

While you’re stewing over the men’s incompetence, Mia remains levelheaded—just like her mother—and proposes a solution. “What if Luke and Ryan take us?”

Her suggestion is almost certainly rooted in her crush on your younger son, but it proves to be a worthwhile idea, nonetheless. Eliza’s face lights up, and before you know it, your five-year-old is dragging her brothers from their room. 

“Please?” She pouts sweetly, batting her doe eyes up at them. “Daddy and Uncle Steve can’t make it, and we can’t go all alone.” She lays it on thick, knowing full well she doesn’t have to—the boys would do just about anything for her. 

Ryan and Luke raid Eddie’s dresser drawers for flannels, finding the ones that he had nabbed from Wayne’s trailer. The girls don cowgirl hats, excitedly giggling as they climb into the back of the minivan. It’s still strange for you to see Ryan behind the wheel, but your heart swells with pride as you watch him double-check Eliza’s booster seat before pulling out of the driveway. 

At seventeen years old, Eddie Munson spent his Saturday nights selling cheap weed at high school parties—many of them, ironically, thrown by “King” Steve Harrington. 

At seventeen years old, Ryan Munson is spending his Saturday night taking his little sister and her best friend to the Girl Scouts square dance. 

“Everyone buckled?” He calls back, already knowing that they are. Still, he waits until he receives a chorus of yeses before he drives off. 

Luke turns around from the passenger seat. “Now, do we have to make a perfect square?” He keeps a serious expression, much to Ryan’s amusement. “Like, what if it’s a bit oval-y? Do we get kicked out? Do you two get banished from the Girl Scouts?”

Eliza and Mia are both used to his nonsense, and they burst into a fit of giggles. Ryan cracks a smile of his own, eyes trained on the road. 

Precious cargo and all that. 

When they arrive at the old VFW hall, the girls immediately pull them over to their group of friends. It’s a sea of young girls and their dads—and some moms—but nary a big brother in sight except for the two Munson boys. 

Ryan barely has time to feel out of place. The emcee, a middle-aged woman with bright pink lipstick and a too-wide smile, grabs the mic. 

“Welcome to our Father-Daughter Square Dance!” The room erupts into applause, quieting down only to hear about how this fundraiser supports the Girl Scouts of Indiana. The scouts repeat their pledge, which is met with more cheers, and then a western tune bleats over the old sound system. 

Eliza grabs Ryan’s hand as the emcee calls out instructions. Mia is a bit shyer with Luke, but they still manage all of the steps without stomping on the other’s toes. 

“Liza, I’m sorry Dad couldn’t make it,” Ryan says between songs. 

Eliza gives him a small smile. “That’s okay. It’s kinda cooler to bring my big brother.”

He grins. Just wait until his dad hears that. 

As everyone is getting into position for the next dance, a new song comes on that has more banjo than Luke has ever heard in his life. 

“Oh, yeah. We’re definitely in Indiana,” he says.

Mia chuckles as she peeks up at Luke from beneath the brim of her straw cowgirl hat. A blue ribbon on one of her red pigtail braids is loose so Luke reaches down to fix it for the little girl. Mia’s freckled face blooms as red as her hair. Luke pretends not to notice, not wanting to embarrass her. The big crush on Luke became obvious when she was three, and now at ten, it’s still hanging around. The fifteen-year-old Munson boy thinks it’s flattering and only ever teases her if she starts it first. 

“Ready?” Luke asks, offering Mia his hand.

“Ready!”

“But I didn't realize any of this until I was standing alone. In a barn... wife-less. Now, you can imagine my disappointment when it suddenly dawned on me that the woman I love is about to be kicked out of the country. So, Margaret. Marry me. Because I'd like to date you.”

Both you and Nancy hold your wine glasses, neither moving a muscle as you watch Ryan Reynolds catch up to Sandra Bullock in a New York City office building. An empty pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream sits between you on the couch, two green-smudged silver spoons resting inside. 

With the men out fishing, Ryan and Luke out with the two girls, and Natalie watching the rest of the kids over at the Harrington house, your place became the ultimate Mom’s Night In for you and Nancy. A chance to drink a little, gossip a little, have some snacks and watch some romcoms. 

Your peace has finally come to an end, however, when the front door bursts open and two men who reek of murky water, bug spray, and gasoline come barging in. 

“Jesus, Steve,” Nancy says, face pinching up at the foul odor wafting from your husbands. 

You wave a hand in front of your face as if that will make the smell dissipate any faster. 

“How were the fish?” you ask, turning your head away to give your nostrils a fighting chance.

“We caught a grand total of zero,” Steve says with a sigh, his black fishing boots looking comically misplaced on him. Neither of the men look natural in fishing gear. But when a guy from work offered Eddie the use of his boat for the day, he found he couldn’t turn it down. 

“Did you bring the fishing poles?” Nancy asks, sarcasm lining the amusement on her face.

Both men give her an annoyed side eye before Eddie looks around and takes a step towards you.

“Where are the girls?” he asks. 

“Ryan and Luke took them to the dance,” you tell him. “They should be back soon.”

Steve grimaces and claps a heavy hand down on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Eliza’s gonna kill you.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows and spins to meet his friend’s eye.

“And Mia won’t kill you?”

Steve grins. “Not if she got to dance with Luke.” This is the only time the man has ever been thankful for Mia’s crush on the Munson teen. 

Front door still open from when the men barged in, Ryan, Luke, Eliza, and Mia walk inside, laughing and talking over one another. Ryan is giving Eliza a piggyback ride and Luke has Mia’s too-small cowgirl hat perched on top of his head. The moment Eliza’s wide brown eyes spot her father, she demands answers. 

“Daddy, where were you?”

Ryan gently lets her down and she stomps over in her beige cowgirl boots, stopping right in front of Eddie. 

“Liza, I’m so sorry,” Eddie pleads. “Our car broke down. We tried everything we could to get back in time—”

Tears build up in Eliza’s eyes and Eddie feels his heart constrict in his chest. It might as well be Eliza’s little fist squeezing it.

“You were s’post to go with me!”

Eddie sighs and runs a ringed, smelly hand over his face. “I know. And I promise I’ll go next time. But I’m glad you got to bring your brothers. 

“Did you have fun at least?” Steve asks from behind him. 

Mia nods emphatically and both you and Nancy have to bite your lips to keep from smiling. 

Eliza nods in agreement, although not as enthusiastically as her friend. “Yeah. And Ryan is a good dancer.”

Luke smirks, and if Eddie were looking at him, he’d see the devious glint in his eye. “Not as good as Dad, I’m sure.”

Loud snickers come from you, Nancy, and Steve. Eddie’s jaw drops open as he looks around the room. 

“I can dance!”

“Yeah, Dad?” Ryan asks.

“Yeah!”

“Lucky for you, we’re all right here to witness it,” Luke says with a shrug. 

Eddie scoffs and shakes his head. “There’s no music. And I don’t really think my Metallica is easy to groove to.”

“We’ve got my Billy Joel—” you start.

“Or my *NSYNC!” Mia adds. 

“No,” Eddie says. “Thank you girls, but no.”

Smirk only growing larger, Luke pats his father on the shoulder. “Lucky for you, we’ve got just what you need.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow as he watches his son take a CD out of a Target bag he was conveniently hiding behind his back. 

“How was fishing, by the way?” Luke asks as he wrestles with the plastic engulfing the case.

“Pointless,” Steve says.

“Your uncle didn’t bring enough bait,” Eddie added. Steve is about to refute but Luke speaks before he gets the chance.

“But you would have, Dad? Does that make you a master baiter?” 

Ryan is the only one who is unable to contain his laughter. The joke goes over the girls’ heads, but you give your son a soft glare anyway. Never mind that you found it hilarious, just as you know the other adults did as well, but sometimes you’ve got to be the parent. 

Luke shrugs it off and pops the finally-freed CD into the stereo and the sound of a bow sawing over fiddle strings fills the room. Your second-oldest nods his head to Eliza.

“Go ahead, Lize. Show the old man how it’s done.”

“There’s not enough room to square dance in here,” Eddie says.

Without even so much as glancing at one another, you and Nancy get off of the couch and push it back, making plenty more space in the living room. The two of you smirk at one another and Nancy crosses her arms over her chest.

“Y’know, I don’t think it’s fair that you guys get to reap the benefits of your daughters being Girl Scouts without putting in the work.”

A grin grows on your face as you see where Nancy is going with this. 

“Yeah,” you agree, “maybe you don’t need more Samoas this year.”

Eddie’s face falls, and he looks at Steve, who shrugs in defeat. Gotta hit the guys where it hurts: food. 

“All right, show us the moves,” Steve says.

Mia grins, a bounce in her step as she takes Eliza’s smaller hand and walks to the middle of the floor. “Okay, me and Liza will be partners. Just watch us.”

Steve furrows his eyebrows and looks between the two girls, one with now-messy twin red braids, and the other with a light brown cowgirl hat atop two curly pigtails. 

“Wait, if you two are dancing together, who are Eddie and I dancing with?” he asks. 

Eliza giggles. “Each other.”

“Nope,” Eddie replies. “No way.”

With an over dramatic sigh, you shrug your shoulders at your husband. “No dancing, no Samoas.”

“Damn those little coconut fuckers,” Eddie mumbles under his breath. “All right, big boy. But I get to be the guy.”

“Sure, we’ll play pretend,” Steve quips back. It’ll be a miracle if they both make it through the first dance alive.

Eliza and Mia begin to go through the motions, showing their fathers what to do. Everyone is laughing as they do-si-do and hook arms to swing each other around. 

“Did I earn my cookies yet?” Eddie asks once the next song ends.

“That’s up to your daughter,” you tell him with a shrug. 

Eddie looks at Eliza expectantly, the big puppy dog eyes that he passed down to her working their magic. 

“Almost, Daddy. You gotta dance with me first.”

“Now that, I can do.”

[lemoncrushh]

Lyrics and Melodies: AM

Summary: A very smitten Harry takes Julia back to his place for drinks and more music.

Warnings: None - this is sweet and sexy, but no smut.

Word Count: 3185

A/N: Please allow me to set this one up for you... This was the second part to a one shot I'd originally written in 2015, and this one was in 2016. Unfortunately, since my 2015 stories got deleted from my Wattpad, I do not have the first part to share, but I can give you the gist of what happened. Written from Harry's POV, he went to a bar with Niall, but the band that was scheduled to play canceled, so it was open-mic night. He was ready to leave when this pretty lady stepped up to the mic and sang like an angel. He was smitten with her. If memory serves, she sang Dreams by Fleetwood Mac, No Souvenirs by Melissa Etheridge and Shelter by Lone Justice. After stepping off stage, Harry introduced himself, found out her name was Julia, and they flirted a bit before he asked if they could go somewhere to talk. They went to the diner across the street and ate pie. Harry asked about the last song she sang because he didn't know it, so he put it in a playlist on his phone. He asked to see her again and she said yes, and as they left the diner, the song When Will I See You Again by the Three Degrees played. So now, we're at part two... Please enjoy :). Oh, and just like the first part, this has a lot of music in it. I will mention the songs at the end and link them so you can check them out.

Help me, I think I'm falling in love again...

I was stood in the back of the bar, just like the first time I watched Julia on the stage, the night we met. After two dates (if you'd call that first night a date), I was still in awe of her. We'd only had one more date since then, but I barely count it. It was a very hurried lunch date because she'd had to get back to work. I hadn't gotten to hear her sing that time, and sitting in the middle of a busy cafe during lunch hour was not the ideal date. Nonetheless, I'd enjoyed just being with her, but I'll admit I kicked myself afterwards for not kissing her goodbye.

I was excited when she'd called to tell me she was going to open mic night again and would love if I came. If. As though anything would have kept me away. This time Niall wasn't with me. I was only there to meet Julia, and after she played her short set, we were headed back to my place to have drinks there. She was beautiful to watch, her perfect lips mouthing the lyrics into the microphone, her delicate fingers strumming the chords on her guitar.

And we love our loving...but not like we love our freedom...

The crowd cheered and clapped when Julia finished her last song and took a bow. Our eyes met for a split second and she smiled at me before stepping off the stage. The emcee took his place at the mic to announce the next performer, but I kept my eyes on Julia while she walked toward me, stopping a couple times to hug someone or say thanks.

"Hi," she beamed.

"Hi," I wiggled my brows. "You were great."

"Thank you," she said. "I'm ready when you are."

I widened my eyes, pointing to the bloke on stage who was singing something off-key that sounded like it might have been "Band on the Run".

"You mean you don't wanna stay for him? He does a mad McCartney."

Julia giggled, leaning into me and grabbing my arm. "I'll pass."

I grinned, getting a whiff of her perfume as she pulled me through the crowd to the exit.

I stopped beside her car where she put her guitar in the back seat. She agreed to follow me and got behind the wheel. Then I climbed into my car and headed out of the parking lot towards my house.

Julia parked her car behind mine in the driveway and I met her, opening the back door to retrieve her guitar.

"Thanks," she smiled shyly, taking it from me. As she followed me up the sidewalk to the front door, I heard her mutter something, though I couldn't quite make it out.

"What was that?" I inquired, inserting the key.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"Welcome," I said, holding the door open for her.

She stepped in gingerly as I punched the security code in the keypad.

"Smells nice in here," she remarked.

I chuckled, extending my hand for her to take it. "Here, I'll show you around."

I enjoyed watching Julia's face as we walked into the living room, her head tilted back to get a view of the high ceilings and the windows that overlooked the backyard.

"This is beautiful," she muttered. "Very serene." She took a few steps closer to the windows. "That view is insane."

"Yeah," I nodded. "It's my favorite thing about this place. You should really see it at sunrise. It's incredible."

She gave a soft grin, her eyes staring back at mine for a moment. I almost leaned in to kiss her, but she turned to the right before I had a chance.

With her guitar slung across her back, she rounded the corner into the next room. When she saw the massive instrument in front of her, she stopped in her tracks.

"Wow!" she exclaimed. "You have a grand piano!" Then with a tiny giggle, she turned around to face me. "Of course you do."

I leant against the door frame with a smirk. "Do you play?"

She gave me a cute smile and a nod before removing her guitar over her head and placing it in the corner against the wall. Then sliding across the piano bench, she gently placed her fingers on the keys, not quite pressing hard enough to make a sound. I walked around to the side of the piano as she played her first chord, followed by another and another.

Well, I dreamed I saw the knights in armor coming...saying something about a queen...

I leant my forearm against the piano as I watched her play and sing the classic Neil Young tune. Although her voice was much more lovely than Neil's. Seriously, I could listen to her sing all day. However, I was glad when she'd finished, lifted her hands from the keyboard and placed them in her lap. She looked up at me and I could've sworn her face was glowing.

"Beautiful," I remarked, though it wasn't just because of her playing.

She tilted her head to the side, allowing her hair to dance across her shoulder. I made my way towards her, again ready to kiss her, but she spoke before I got to her.

"So I thought we were gonna have drinks. Where's mine?"

I shook my head with a grin and held my hand out for her. "C'mon, love, I'll show you to the kitchen."

I was standing all alone against the world outside...

Julia and I sat in the living room on a couple of cushions that I'd tossed on the floor next to the coffee table. We'd been drinking vodka (her choice when I'd shown her my liquor cabinet) for the last hour, and after some coaxing, I got her to play her guitar and sing for me again.

I would die for you, climb the highest mountain...

Lord help me, I was having a hard time keeping my emotions in check. When I'd first seen her in that bar, her angelic voice ringing in my ears, I was already feeling something. I knew it was silly, ludicrous even, to call it love at first sight. But there was definitely something there. Something more than just an initial attraction. Each time she sang, and I watched her beautiful face as she acted out the words of the song in her expressions, I slid down the hole a little deeper.

I wanted so badly to kiss her. I was mesmerized by her lips as they moved. I wanted to touch them, to feel them.

When we're hungry, love will keep us alive...

Julia strummed the last chord and slung the strap over her head before setting the guitar on the floor beside her. She reached for her glass on the table, gulping the last of its contents.

"Looks like it's time for another," I remarked, getting up from my cushion.

"I can get it," she said, rising herself.

"Then we'll get 'em together, yeah?"

Julia followed me into the kitchen where I refilled our glasses with vodka. She watched me for a second until I caught her, and she quickly diverted her gaze to the window.

"Do you have lots of parties here?" she inquired. "That looks like a perfect patio for parties."

"Well, Dr. Seuss," I teased, "that's a brilliant use of alliteration. But no. I actually haven't had a party here in a while."

"Oh," she said, turning around to face me once again.

I held her glass out to her. "Here ya go."

She took it with only slight hesitation as she looked at me. "Thanks."

I stepped closer to her, my eyes looking at her over my glass as I took a sip from it.

"I tend to prefer more intimate settings," I added.

"Oh."

Setting my glass on the counter, I reached my arm out to wrap around her waist, but the second my hand grazed her shirt, she slipped from my grasp and walked past me to the opposite counter.

"Why do you keep doing that?" I huffed.

"Doing what?" she asked innocently.

"You keep backing away or interrupting me when I'm about to kiss you," I pouted.

"You were about to kiss me?" she raised her brows. "Sorry, I didn't know."

I scoffed. "Yeah, ya did."

She chuckled, sending more electrified tingles throughout my body.

"Sorry. It's just that..."

"It's just what?" I asked softly as I took her glass from her, setting it on the counter behind me, next to mine. Then I pressed my body up against hers, forcing her to back into the counter, giving her no room to get away.

She focused on my chest as I felt her sigh against me, her expression softening as her cheeks flushed a rosy pink.

"It's just that...I like you," she confessed, finally looking up at me. "And I guess I'm a little nervous. I just wanted our first kiss to be...special."

"I like you, too," I conveyed in a low tone. "Nothin' to be nervous about, love."

Placing my hands on either side of her on the counter, I leaned forward and tilted my head slightly.

"I'm gonna kiss you now, Julia," I said just above a whisper, my eyes darting between hers and her mouth.

She nodded slowly before muttering, "Okay."

Her lips were soft, just like I imagined they would be. I captured her top lip between mine, then the bottom one before sliding my tongue inside to meet hers. She let out a tiny little sound as she ran her hands up my chest to my neck, allowing her fingers to thread through my hair. I lifted my right hand to her cheek, kissing her deeper. I felt her chest rise and fall as I released her, her hot breaths puffing out of her perfect lips against my mouth.

"Was that special enough?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd say it was."

"Good," I said, licking my lips. "Now we can have our second kiss."

Taking her in my arms, I pulled her even closer to me as a cute giggle escaped her throat. I lifted her up off the ground, so she sat on the counter, eye to eye with me. She smiled at me when I edged myself between her legs that dangled beneath her. Her smile alone was enough to make me come undone, and I couldn't help but smile back.

Brushing her hair off her shoulders, I slid my hands under her ears before planting another kiss on her lips. This time she eagerly opened her mouth to me, inviting me inside. My thumbs tickled her cheeks as I tasted her. She made the little sound again, only louder as she delicately raked her fingers down my arms.

We were both breathing hard when our lips separated and I rested my forehead against hers.

"Wow," she whispered.

I merely nodded with a growl. Then I took her hand and placed it over my heart, covering it with my hand.

"It's beating fast," she commented.

"Yeah," I managed to say. "It's kinda been doing that since we met."

"Hmm," she sounded with a smile. I was glad she didn't make some joke about my cheesy line, and instead took my other hand and brought it to her chest.

"Mine's been doing the same," she said.

My lips curled up in a massive goofy grin before giving her another peck on the mouth.

"What do ya reckon we do about that?"

I watched as her eyelids fluttered, her pretty lashes laying perfectly across her cheeks.

"I think maybe we should take some time to get to know each other," she replied.

I couldn't deny her words kinda felt like a punch in the gut. But I also agreed with her.

"Alright," I muttered.

"It's just..." Julia readjusted her position on the counter, pulling my hands into her lap as she looked at me. "I already know I like you, Harry. A lot. And I'm very attracted to you."

I nodded.

"I just don't think there's any need to rush. Let's just see where it takes us."

My expression softened as I nodded once more. "Okay."

She gave me that amazing smile again before turning her head. "Now, where's my drink?"

With a chuckle, I let go of her hands and turned around to retrieve her glass.

"The ice is all melted," I remarked.

"Of course it is," said Julia. "That was one hot kiss. It's a wonder the smoke alarm didn't go off."

I beamed at her as she took a large sip of her vodka, then hopped off the counter.

"C'mon, handsome," she beckoned. "Your turn."

"My turn?" I quirked a brow.

"Yeah. You've heard me sing like ten songs already. It's your turn."

When something goes right...It's likely to lose me, it's apt to confuse me...

Having Julia watch me play guitar and sing was not something I'd prepared myself for. Sure, she knew I was a musician, so it had to come up sooner or later. I just didn't know I'd be doing it in front of her in such an intimate setting.

I'd turned the lights down low and let a few candles burn, the glow reflecting and bouncing off the window. She looked so beautiful sitting on her cushion beside the coffee table, watching me with her irresistible eyes. I almost couldn't concentrate on the lyrics.

It's such an unusual sight...I can't get used to something so right...

Julia let out an audible sigh when I finished the Paul Simon song. She didn't take her eyes off of me when I handed her back her guitar. In fact, she immediately set it down on the floor and crawled to me on her knees.

"That was beautiful," she murmured when she reached me.

Before I had a chance to respond, she covered my mouth with hers. This time I could taste a tinge of liquor on her tongue since we'd both had our fair share. Not that I minded. She still tasted sweet and lovely.

"I think I'm a little drunk," she commented when she sat back on her heels, her eyelids heavy.

"That's okay," I smirked.

Julia groaned as she laid down on the floor, resting her head on the cushion. "I have to go home, Harry."

"No, you don't," I said a little too quickly.

She turned her head to glare at me, then her chest shook as she laughed. "I can't stay here."

"Sure, you can."

Julia continued to stare at me, though I wasn't exactly sure if she was looking at me, or through me. I leant on my elbow across the floor, facing her.

"Stay," I requested in a low voice.

Finally she blinked and shook her head. Then she reached over for her guitar, laying it across her stomach. She began to strum a new chord progression as she hummed.

"This is a song I'm thinking of singing next time at open mic," she said.

"Let's hear it."

This could be it...I think I'm in love...

My stomach literally did a flip.

"Julia..." I whispered, but she didn't hear me. She continued strumming and singing the song to the ceiling, not once looking at me.

I almost could feel her nerves. I'd never noticed any nerves emit from her before, not once. Not while she was singing. That was when she was in her comfort zone. This was different. It was almost like she was hesitant to share this with me.

Her voice cracked a couple times, but she never stopped. I stared at her mouth while she sang, wanting so badly to kiss it again. Especially because of the words that were coming out of it.

When you kiss me...I know you miss me... And when you're with me...the world just goes away...

I scooted even closer to her. I didn't want to disturb her playing and cause her to hit a wrong note, but I wanted to be next to her. As close as possible.

Finally, during the final chorus, I couldn't take it anymore. I kissed her cheek, dragging my lips down her jaw. She giggled once and turned her head, allowing me full access to her neck. I nipped at her delicate skin, my hand in her hair.

"Julia..." I whispered again, this time directly in her ear. But I wasn't expecting a response since she was still singing.

Oh, the world just goes away...when you kiss me...

Laying her guitar back down on the floor beside her, Julia turned to look at me. I grazed her other cheek with my hand and lowered my mouth to hers.

"Harry," she murmured against my lips.

"Hmm?"

"I think I should probably stay. But only because I'm drunk and sleepy. And I shouldn't be driving home."

"Alright, love," I nodded. "Come, I'll show you to the guest room."

I rose from the floor, holding my hand out for her to take. I put my arms around her to steady her as we walked down the hallway to the room at the end.

"This is pretty," she remarked in a tired voice as I pulled down the dark purple duvet.

"Sit," I commanded. She did and I took to removing her shoes.

"I'm going to turn out the lights," I insisted. "Toilet's across the hall if you need it."

"Okay."

I smiled at her, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead, then her nose and mouth.

"I had a lovely evening, Julia," I said.

"Me too," she grinned.

I left her to walk down the hall and grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. Then I blew out the candles and turned out the lights. When I made it back to the hallway, it was dark except for one glow which I knew was from the lamp in the guest room. When I reached the doorway, Julia was already under the covers, lying on her side. Her eyes were shut, but I wasn't sure if she was asleep yet. I laid the bottle of water on the bedside table in case she woke up thirsty. Then I placed a quick kiss on her temple and turned out the light.

I was just about to the hall when I turned around again to look at her. God, she was beautiful. I'm not sure what made me do it, but I walked around the bed and undressed myself to my boxers. Then I climbed into bed behind Julia. I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her to me. She stirred only slightly before grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand to her stomach. I sighed and listened to her breathing, feeling each inhale and exhale as her stomach moved to the rhythm of the song she'd just sung.

The way you hold me...The way you show me... That you adore me...oh, when you kiss me...

Finally, it lulled me to sleep.

Songs mentioned:

Joni Mitchell - Help Me

Neil Young - After the Gold Rush

Eagles - Love Will Keep Us Alive

Paul Simon - Something So Right

Shania Twain - When You Kiss Me

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[hippolotamus]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

Thanks for the tags @jesuisici33 @disasterbuckdiaz @daffi-990 and anyone who tagged me for Sunday ��� It's not quite Tuesday yet, but I'm excited and not sure when I'll be able to post tomorrow.

IDK if anyone else remembers this WIP from... a while ago, but, uh, may I present pole dancer!Buck, with a hint of baby gay!Eddie. This was formed from one too many listens to T Swift's Mirrorball, which came up on the playlist tonight and demanded I work on this. Tomorrow it's back to a WIP I should be working on (she says as if logic is useful here).

From behind the sparkling, glittery curtain, designed to mimic a shimmering night sky, Buck extends one leg toward the stage. The warm, hazy spotlight envelops the exposed skin, from mid-calf to his toes, positioned in a perfect demi point. If only Maddie’s old ballet instructor could see him now. She always fussed that he was all leg and no balance. Take that Mrs. Lahn.   Cheers and whistles from the Saturday night crowd add to the warmth, reaching, caressing, pulling at him. The regulars and newcomers alike know what’s coming, what to expect. Buck has become somewhat of a local celebrity, drawing patrons – and business – away from other clubs on the nights he performs. He knows what they’re waiting for and his body hums with the anticipation of providing it, of pleasing and being worthy of their praise. The emcee finishes Buck’s introduction and the opening beat of his music begins to play. A rhythmic snare drum that momentarily slices through the floaty feeling already encasing him. The disruption lasts only as long as it takes to slip past the curtain and emerge on the stage. A switch flips in his head, reminding him he’s on. Any remaining traces of Buck fall away, left backstage in a heap just like his civilian clothes and makeup case in the dressing room. The only person left now is an alter ego who is fluid, confident, sensual. An unforgettable presence for the next five minutes and forty seven seconds. He’s barely reached the twenty second mark before he notices. Before he connects with dark eyes and a piercing stare. The same one that’s been growing more intense in the weeks since the man first took up residence at a high top table in the last row. Gradually shifting from hesitant but curious to devastatingly certain, as if something slotted into place.  Buck’s vision narrows to that single point of focus even though he should be periodically scanning the crowd. The dancers are never supposed to appear as if they’re playing favorites. Like they aren’t equally enthusiastic about each and every warm-bodied potential tip in the room. Even if they’re personally responsible for a spike in revenue, like Buck and one or two others. He figures he can save his charms for when he’s working the floor. It’ll be easier then to slip on the other mask that makes every lap dance feel exclusive, like he’s not doing the same for anyone else with enough cash.

no pressure tagging @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @stereopticons @911onabc @apothecarose @barbiediaz @buckaroosheart @buddierights @chaosandwolves @elvensorceress @eowon @fionaswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @heartshapedvows @honestlydarkprincess @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart @jamespearce9-1-1 @ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites @loserdiaz @messyhairdiaz @monsterrae1 @singlethread @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @statueinthestone @steadfastsaturnsrings @the-likesofus @thekristen999 @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @thewolvesof1998 @underwater-ninja-13 @watchyourbuck @weewootruck @wikiangela @wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend and anyone else who wants to share 😘

[broadsidemagazine]

Newport: The Short Hot Summer (Newpork Folk Festival, 1965)

PHIL OCHS: The trouble with Newport 65 was that too many people forgot that it was supposed to be a festival. The cops were ridiculously harsh and rude. Many city performers were up tight about how well they would do professionally. And juvenile gossip seemed to be on too many peoples’ tongues. It should have been called the Newport Fuzz Festival. If people don't take it so seriously next year it should turn out to be a whole lot better.

NEWS REPORT: This year’s Newport Folk Festival was the biggest ever with 77,000 paid admissions. Festival officials plan to have next summer’s affair run a full week.

CARL MIRKEN (Broadside reporter): Fanatic screaming erupted when Bob Dylan appeared on stage Sunday night. His black leather sports jacket, red shirt, tapered black slacks and electric guitar startled some in the audience and dismayed many. Sight of the Butterfield Band backing him up deepened their dismay. By his third -- and most ‘radically’ rock and roll -- song, there was loud jeering and cat-calls from some parts of the audience. Then a regular battle between boos and cheers. Bob was obviously quite perturbed, the first time I have seen him so in front of an audience. (It must be said that he had rehearsed with the band for only an hour the night before and the poorly-balanced sound system made what could have been a great sound messy). Bob dismissed the band, exchanged his electronic guitar for his more familiar acoustic one. When a cry arose for him to sing “Mr. Tambourine Man” he responded almost apologetically “Okay, if you want me to.” And he did, and then once again he had the oldtime thunderous near-unanimous applause. All in all, it was a dramatic confrontation.

JACK SOLOMAN (manager): Dylan was out of his own element. Butterfield isn't a performer. He just lays down music.

JOAN BAEZ (performer): Tonight Bob was in a mess. He’s really very good. People just don't understand his writing.

CAROL ADLER (copywriter): This is the most hostile audience I've ever seen. I don’t understand it. Dylan completely knocked them out wherever he went in England.

THEODORE BIKEL (performer): You don’t whistle in church -- you don't play rock and roll at a folk festival.

NEW YORK TIMES (Robert Shelton): While the fresh, enthusiastic thousands of teenagers in the audiences comported themselves in a fashion that pleased Newport and festival officials, the conduct of older members of the folk leadership left much to be desired… A folklorist and a personal manager scuffled on the ground over a fine point of courtesy in the folklorist's introduction.

ALAN LOMAX (folklorist): I had been on stage for over three hours and I was hot and tired. At this point I wasn’t emceeing -- I was talking about the blues. When I came off stage there was Al Grossman and he said to me “That was the worst job of emceeing I’ve ever heard in my life.” And I said “It was no worse than some of the things you've done in your life.” Then he said something like “I ought to belt you in the nose.” I pushed my chest up against his and invited him to try it. I don’t remember swinging but there he was stretched out on the ground. Then he jumped up and grappled me around the waist and we were both down, rolling around. By that time people pulled us apart. That’s all there was to it. It couldn't have lasted more than 30 seconds. But I suppose it's already becoming a folk legend. (Editor’s note: The artist who apparently got a somewhat less than perfect introduction from Mr. Lomax belongs to Hr. Grossman’s stable).

CARYL MIRKEN (after the dust settled): The contemporary songs workshop was a high point of the festival, or could have been. It was the most eagerly awaited event and best attended. Large crowds jammed into the area the instant the gates were opened. Co-Host Peter Yarrow in a little speech said the contemporary writers are rightfully folksong writers because the whole folk tradition is with them. But although this was by far the workshop attracting the greatest interest the Newport Board this year seemed deliberately de-emphasizing contemporary songs and their writers. Most conspicuous by his absence from the program was Phil Ochs… Also absent were such of the country's leading topical songwriters as Tom Paxton and Eric Andersen. Also memorable at Newport 65: Joan Baez saluting “Johnson’s marvelous foreign policy” by singing “Stop, In The Name Of Love”... Another side of Pete Seeger: Pete managing to hang in while backing Spokes Mashiyane, the amazing South African pennywhistle jazzman (his music is really called “Kwela” but the closest term we have for it is jazz), along with Chicago blues piano player Lalayette Lee and bassist Willie Dixon. Spokes, who along with Mimi and Dick Fariña was probably the most brilliant performer at this year’s festival was brought to Newport largely through the efforts of Pete Seeger, who discovered him on his world tour a year or so ago… Fannie Lou Hamer: A great human being and a wondrous singer (“Mississippi, land of the tree and home ot the grave”)... Dick & Mimi Fariña holding an enthusiastic audience Sunday afternoon despite a sudden downpour as they sang their “House Un-American Blues Activity Dream”... Mark Spoelstra's new songs… Donovan the import from Britain is certainly much more than just an “imitation of Bob Dylan”. Donovan has his own style; his imagery is clear and meaningful without any trace at Dylan's semantic obscurity. Aside from his music Donovan is the sweetest, most “natural” guy going… John Koerner's parody of the gambler-sheriff song.

(Broadside #61, August 1965)

[thelensofyashunews]

Lupe Fiasco Sharpens His Pen on 'Samurai,' His 9th Studio Album Out Now via 1st & 15th

With over two decades of tenure in the rap game, Lupe Fiasco is a savvy veteran of hip-hop, but that doesn't mean he doesn't take the time to hone and perfect his craft at every turn. Today, the Chicago MC unveils his latest album Samurai, a smooth, yet cerebral, 8-track album brimming with ideas, that radiates Lupe’s pure love for the art of emceeing and committing himself as a servant of the rap game. “The word ‘samurai’ means to serve,” Lupe says on the album’s title. “My relationship to that word has always meant that you need to be at the service of other people, either in the overall community, or in this instance, the rap community at large that I’ve been a part of for years."

Samurai, Lupe's ninth studio album, is produced in full by Soundtrakk, making it their second full album collaboration following 2022's DRILL MUSIC IN ZION, and the first album that Lupe and Soundtrakk worked on with their longtime manager, and 1st & 15th co-CEO Charles "Chill" Patton, since 2007's The Cool. Patton also serves as executive producer on the album. It's home to recent singles such as the title track, "Samurai," praised by Rolling Stone, Complex, Billboard, HYPEBEAST, Clash, The Needle Drop, and more, plus the lyrical beatdown, "Cake," which shows off Lupe's supreme ability to attack the beat with poetic and energetic bars.

Lupe's ninth full-length to date opens with aforementioned title track, "Samurai" and is a loose and soulful record that gently lopes along with a prominent drumbeat and a lilting soprano sax lick, as Lupe dons his battle rap persona, attempting to draw a crowd with his poetic devices. While the chorus imitates a busker or carnival barker's call for attention, the verses dig deeper. The first verse analyzes the awkward relationship between hip-hop culture and high culture. The second verse tells the story of a struggling artist, contrasting her glamorous dreams with her gritty reality, but brimming with her unbroken spirit.

Lupe takes the listener on an introspective journey but also utilizes different eras of hip hop to tell the stories that lay within each individual track. From experimental melodies infused within hip hop beats that carry ‘90s twang like “Mumble Rap”, or paired down, sentimental percussions and keys as found in “Palaces,” and the orchestral, street freestyle-esque “No. 1 Headband,” Lupe weaves the many faces of hip hop, along with the many lives he has lived within the industry, into the narrative of his project.

On Samurai, Lupe retreats inward to deliver fans one of his most personal albums to date. “I sometimes get tagged by my fans as not doing personal records,” Lupe says, “but I always tell people there's me in there if you listen closely enough. This album is one of my more personal records to date. It's not a full biography, but my personal experiences are tied up in all of my music. A lot of the records are me. Some are from the POV of a character. and some are me. The album weaves things from my life as an artist, touching on things other artists go through.”

Samurai is Lupe's first new album since 2022's DRILL MUSIC IN ZION, which earned critical acclaim from NPR, Complex, The FADER, and many others, including Vinyl Me Please, who wrote "At their best, Lupe’s bars are as visually and phonetically pleasing as popped bubble wrap." The product of a burst of thoughtful spontaneity, Lupe created DRILL MUSIC IN ZION over a short period, diving into a folder of beats sent by Soundtrakk and emerging with a fully-realized album in just three days. In 2023, Lupe kept busy by releasing tracks like "Wild Child (Remix)," a new version of his 2017 track created in collaboration with Chicago house luminary Vince Lawrence, and "Out There," an archival track from the 1st & 15th vault. The iconic Chicago native also settled into his position as a professor at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, where he teaches "Rap Theory and Practice." Beyond music, Lupe continues to focus on the community organizations he founded, including We Are M.U.R.A.L, The Neighborhood Start-Up Fund, Society of Spoken Art, and his cross-cultural content venture, Studio SV.

Along with Samurai’s release, Lupe also dropped the accompanying video for “No. 1 Headband” where we see the Chicago native driving around his hometown reflecting on his surroundings, his early life and lyrically slicing through any one who dares to think they can match his ability. Lupe paints a soulful scene in an otherwise ordinary industrial suburban landscape. Shot in black and white, joined by beautiful back up singers, and featuring visual cuts of a saxophone player's hands tickling the instruments' keys when the jazz-heavy chorus of the track kicks in, the viewer has the opportunity to ride around the rapper's hometown and listen to him share his personal anecdotes. The video represents a return to home that pairs well with the themes found in the track's lyrics and the entire album as a whole.

Samurai is available to stream all platforms via 1st & 15th.

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Ace Trappola Gala Couture Personal Story: Part 2

"I'm counting on you guys, alright?"

(Part 1) Part 2

[Pomefiore Dorm – Ballroom]

Lilia: Oh, I have an idea! Ace, why don't you show them an example of how to walk properly?

Ace: Eh? Me, an example?

Jack: Heh, that's a great idea. Try it, Ace.

Ace: Huuh? Why do I gotta!?

Jack: Hey, hey, you're gonna stir up trouble and then not do it yourself? You think we'll let you get away with that?

Vil: Sigh… I don't think we can have a proper lesson in this kind of atmosphere.

Vil: In order to try to bring everyone together, I'll allow Lilia's suggestion and have Ace join us just this once.

Silver: Ace will show us a performance, huh. I cannot wait. I'll make sure to study it intently.

Ace: Eeeeeh～ No way. There's no reason for me to do any walking practice when I'm going to just be the emcee of the group.

Lilia: Hey, Ace. Don't you feel a bit frustrated that Jack is looking down on you?

Lilia: You just gotta face him and make him eat his words!

Ace: I mean, I'm not really frustrated or anything…

Ace: But hey wait, who's side are you on, anyway?

Lilia: I'm on your side, of course. Now, c'mon, hurry and do it.

Ace: Fine, fine, I'll do it.

Ace: Ehhh. I'm not really sure I can do it though～

Jack: Haha, I'm looking forward to this. If you can't do it well, I'll heckle you right back.

Ace: …Mmkay, here I go then.

[walks]

Jack/Silver: …!!

Lilia: Oho!

Vil: …Your center of gravity is unwavering, and your knees extend beautifully without any undue effort. Not bad.

Ace: …Well, I guess that'll do!

Ace: How was it? Based on everyone's reactions, I guess I did pretty good?

Vil: I suppose. You're a little rough around the edges, but… I would give it a passing mark.

Ace: Haha, thaaanks.

Jack: Hey, Ace! How're you able to walk so well like that?

Silver: Have you modeled before?

Ace: Nope, none. This was the first time I've ever walked like this.

Jack: Then, why…!

Ace: Why? I mean, it's easy. I just put into practice everything Vil-senpai had been saying during your lessons.

Ace: I heard his explanation, and then just winged it the way I thought he wanted it.

Jack: Huh…?

Lilia: Kufufu. You're quite adept to be able to do it so easily just my hearing him explain it.

Ace: Well yeah, something like this is easy-peasy.

Ace: If anything, why can't you guys do it, even though Vil-senpai is explaining it over and over again? So weird.

Ace: But hey, I don't mind all the praise. Thaaanks.

Jack/Silver: ...

Vil: Do you understand now? I'm not demanding anything impossible from you all.

Vil: Although, I suppose a part of it could also be Ace's natural talent as well.

Ace: Okay, then. No one else's got anything to say, right? I'll be heading off then.

Lilia: Oh, you're done already?

Ace: I told you already. This was just to kill time.

Ace: I'm pretty busy with my own stuff too, so I can't be looking after shy little Jack forever, y'know～

Ace: Mmkay then, bye～

Lilia: Okay, see you later～!

Jack: D-Dammit… I can't lose to Ace! I'll definitely perfect my walking!

Jack: Vil-senpai! Please be stricter with your discipline!

Silver: Same here. We may not be as good as Ace, but we'll make up for it with our painstaking efforts.

Vil: There's no need to be that eager, you can reach his level easily if you just practice seriously.

Vil: …But, I suppose that was good motivation, at least.

Vil: Now, break's over. Let's resume practice!

Jack/Silver: YESSIR!

Lilia: Hmm… Those two both have very focused looks on their faces now.

Lilia: I see what he did now. What an odd way to "encourage" them. Kufufu.

[Pomefiore Dorm – Lounge]

Ace: Haaah. I was just planning to mess with them a little bit. I didn't think I'd end up having to join them too.

Ace: Eh, I don't think I'll need to worry 'bout those two now that they're super fired up. They've always been one of the more annoyingly serious crowd, too.

Ace: I sure hope I'll get to do my part… I'm counting on you guys, alright?

(Part 1) Part 2

[blouisparadise]

Today we have the third part to our rec list of BL college/university fics! You can also find part one to this rec list here and part two to this rec list here. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like this post and reblog to spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Understanding Silences | Explicit | 3487 words

Staring at the black swirling ink was something everyone did, fantasizing the voice speaking those words, picturing the scenario that would lead them to find their soulmate. Harry did that too, only, he wondered why would those be his soulmate's first words. It was not a light curiosity, it was a big question in his life.

2) I Don't Want A Taste (I Want It All) | Explicit | 3865 words

What Louis really needed was a fat fucking nap.

What Louis got instead was some hipster-looking wannabe arguing with him over the validity of avocado toast.

3) Signed, No Name | Mature | 4647 words

Harry doesn’t know Blue, he just knows that he leaves random notes in the corners of the books he checks out, and he’s head over heels for him.

4) Fratboy In Love | Mature | 6830 words

Harry Styles was a frat boy who loved to sleep around and flirt with boys and girls. Louis was a good uni student who loved to stay in amd study and wasn't much of a partier.

Insert his best friend Niall who talks him into going. Louis gets drunk and ends up sleeping with harry. The next day he leaves before Harry wakes amd tries to avoid him at all costs. Thinking Harry wouldn't care since Louis was just another conquest. But what if Harry did care. And actually have a crush on Louis. Read and find out.

5) Feels So Right | Explicit | 8804 words

The emcee leans in between them, handing over his mic to the blue-eyed vision. “You know what? Someday… Someday you guys might thank me for this...”

6) You're The Only One Who's Making Me Come, To My Sinful Senses | Explicit | 9355 words

Louis the dance major and Harry the business major meet on Tinder. They hook up regularly and come to find out they like each other more than they let on.

7) One Day You'll See (All The Things That We Can Be) | Mature | 10657 words

Louis has a problem; he's in love with his best mate.

8) Hate To Smoke (Without Me) | Mature | 12164 words

Sleep. Harry just wants one good night of sleep.  However, his neighbour has a thing for headboard-banging-against-the-wall-sex every night.  After a secret set-up and a bet, Harry may finally get the sleep he so much desires.

9) Like Spilled Garnets | Explicit | 14316 words

AU where Harry and Niall are vampires who go to college as a hobby,  Louis is the human willing to endure any adversities that come with dating an ancient vampire,  and Liam is the over protective best friend.

10) It's Hard To Look Right At You, Baby | Explicit | 14584 words

Coffee Shop AU where Louis is going through a dry spell, Zayn wants to be a good friend and help Louis find someone, and Harry ends up finding him instead.

11) I Couldn’t Face A Life Without Your Light | Mature | 15538 words

Louis and Harry are college students who haven't been the same in the past two years.

12) Sometimes A Fantasy | Explicit | 18654 words

There’s nothing to complain about when Harry’s walking around their flat with his cock swinging about, nothing to complain about when Harry’s pressing himself up against Louis’ naked backside when he’s reaching for a mug in their cupboards, and nothing to complain about when Harry’s got his hand firm on Louis’ arse when they’re cuddling on the couch.

So, in reality, it’s really fucking weird, and Louis knows that.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it.

13) Even The Best Laid Plans | Explicit | 25190 words

Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.

14) Hold Onto This Heaven (Of Yours) | Explicit | 25213 words

An ode to being too young, too sad, and too in love.

15) The Devil’s In The Details | Explicit | 25372 words | Sequel

He squeals when Harry smacks his bum as he bends over to pick up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. Harry smiles smugly at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “When are you going to start calling me professor?” He asks.

“When you actually are one,” Louis says with his hand on the doorknob. He cocks his head to the side in curiosity. “Isn’t that how words work? You did study English, right?”

Louis’ quick to slip out the door before Harry can smack him again, his laugh echoing through the hallways as he makes his way to his next class with flushed cheeks and a bright smile.

16) Short And Sweet | Explicit | 29658 words

Louis is a shy university student in a world scarce of male omegas. He’s always dreamt of having an alpha despite his sheltered upbringing, fantasizing about being loved and cared for. He’s immediately smitten by the mysterious alpha with curly hair, broad shoulders, and the addictive coffee scent.

17) Push You Out, Pull You Back In | Explicit | 31544 words

Harry hates feeling vulnerable. Louis is set on breaking through his tough facade.

18) Marks On My Baby | Explicit | 31628 words

“What’s that?” Harry hadn’t meant for his voice to sound so sharp and even he winced at his own outburst. It was more of a hiss than an actual question, but for now, he was too surprised to care.

“What’s what?” The omega asked, eyebrows raised and lips pinched. Harry knew he was probably mad at him for interrupting his rant, but the alpha was too on edge to bother pleasing the boy.

“On your neck… Your bondmark spot…” His voice had grown low and deep, almost a growl.

Who knew a single love bite on his omega friend's neck would trigger Harry this much? Certainly not the alpha himself.

19) Smoke Between Your Teeth | Explicit | 37015 words

Louis tries to stop his addiction to cigarettes and discovers he's been addicted to Harry for much, much longer.

20) The Row House | Explicit | 44287 words

Going from friends to lovers is never easy. But what about when you've already crossed that line and suddenly, you have to deal with what comes after?

Fresh Meat-inspired fic where a bunch of young university-students live in a row house near uni together and all have their issues to deal with.

21) Know I Think You're Awesome, Right? | Explicit | 60108 words

“Well, that’s not very Treat People With Kindness of you.”

“Neither is approaching someone with the sole intent of criticizing a cause they’re clearly passionate about, given the amount of time they’ve dedicated to advocating for it,” Louis snaps.

“Sure, but I’m not the one with the button,” Harry shrugs.

“So, is there actually something I can help you with, or did you just come to push me into pepper spraying you as well?” Louis is quickly growing impatient. Hell, he was impatient the moment that Harry made his grand entrance on campus yesterday.

“I’m just trying to assess the environment here,” Harry says, “Because if this is all you’ve got to offer trans people who just want to be able to use the bathroom in peace like the rest of us, then I’m not sure I fit in.”

“Allow me to save you the trouble, then: you don’t.”

22) Don't Think About The Consequences | Explicit | 70478 words

Can you shut up, for once?” Styles asks, and Louis’ eyes widen in shock. He opens his mouth, and Styles can tell he’s going to start yelling again about something absurd that Styles really doesn’t want to listen to. Professor Styles keeps talking instead, not giving Louis the chance to yell. “How…. how do you go from flirting with me in the middle of class to these annoying outbursts of anger? Can’t you just, can’t you just…” Fuck it.

He leans in, and molds his lips against Louis’ open mouth. The wind gets knocked out of him when their lips finally meet, and he can finally feel Louis’ softness against his own lips. His hands reach up to cup Louis’ face, as Louis leans closer to Styles and he finally relaxes into Styles’ embrace. Styles doesn’t deepen the kiss, instead he pulls away and ghosts his lips across Louis’ while he comprehends what he just did fully. Fuck.

23) Flash Back To Me | Explicit | 73066 words words | Sequel

Louis narrows his eyes, wanting more than anything to tell Liam to go fuck himself, but he can’t be sure, is the thing. As much as he knows for a fact that he would never date someone like Harry Styles, he has months missing from his memory. And it’s scary to think that, in that time, everything he’s come to know about himself could have changed so drastically.

24) Darling | Mature | 110147 words

"Why do you call him darling?"

I looked at Liam and felt my features soften.

"Because he's a darling. He's absolutely the most precious thing I've ever seen. He's a darling boy and I just want all of him and only him."

25) Never Be | Explicit | 117522 words

The one where Harry Styles moves to Connecticut from England for nine months as a part of a study abroad program, and he just so happens to move in with Louis Tomlinson and family.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[thegirlwhowritesawksh-t]

la douleur de l'amour - georgenotfound x f!reader

author: @thegirlwhowritesawksh-t​ me!

word count: 4.7k +

warnings: hella angst, mentions of blood/scabs/injuries. if there’s any you think that you see, please let me know!

a/n: hi y’all :)) first off, to whoever’s reading this: stay hydrated, smile and laugh! and second: this is my submission for @bozowrites​ writing event! <33 congrats!!

**this is my second fic, and i’m hoping to push more out as i get more comfortable with writing! i’m thinking to maybe make a part two to this but i don't know yet. please let me know what you think! *sending besitos to y’all :))*

Prompt: Why are you crying?

1:15 p.m.

In the corner of a dimly lit studio in front of the barre, (y/n) leans over to her left, counting four beats before resetting and proceeding to stretch over her right side. After months spent choreographing, picking costumes, and endless bandages wrapped around her feet, it has led to the final product: her first piece in her dance company’s annual recital premiering tonight.

All (y/n) could feel was pure energy and pride at what she has created. It’s her baby after all and nothing could ruin the day for her.

Feeling her joints start to loosen up, she runs through a mental list in her head making sure each dancer had their costumes, knew where all the dancers would start and end on stage, as well as remembering her own choreography, seeing as she had an important section to end her piece. After double-checking, (y/n) then begins to travel to the center of the studio, and begins to run over the piece.

Remember the triple pirouette here, before you end with a leap to fourth position. Finishing in the fourth position, she lets out a curse as she accidently stubs her right thumb toe, a small scab already tearing at the edge. Shaking out her pain, she reattempts the move, succeeding with an effortless bow.

“You know, your piece is going to be excellent. Why are you so worried?”, a voice calls out in the quiet studio, with (y/n) yelping and trying to find where the voice came from. Standing against the edge of the doorway stood Liam, her dance partner and best friend. (y/n) begins to chuckle and runs the piece over again.

“Can’t help but make sure it’s perfect. I have drenched all my blood, sweat and tears creating this dance, this- this masterpiece. It is my first, and most certainly not my last choreographing piece at this company. There’s too much riding on this for me.”, she replies.

“Even if so, I’d like to think you’ll be fine. Don’t stress, it’s amazing. Otherwise, how are you feeling?”

“Kind of excited, kind of feeling like I should run away.”, (y/n) replies. Avoiding to answering the question entirely, she begins to run the piece over again. She continues,

“I think regardless, it should be a great night. George is coming to the recital tonight and it’ll be the first time he’ll be seeing this dance.” With George editing and recording videos for the Dream Team, his Twitch channel, and YouTube channels, (y/n)’s barely seen him since the start of the dance season. The only time she’s been able to spend time with him has been going to bed with him - even if it’s been a bit more rare lately - and sometimes, a free day on a weekend with no dance practice or no recording for George.

“So that’s why you are nervous, how cute.”, Liam laughs, with (y/n) leaping over to Liam and swatting their arm lightly.

“He swore that he’d come tonight, and he knows how much time I’ve spent perfecting this. I just can’t imagine tonight going any other way. I made sure to get him a seat right in the front, so he’ll be able to see the whole performance, and me.”, (y/n) smirks. As soon as (y/n) found out she would be choreographing one of the pieces in the recital, she immediately told George her good news. George had told her she deserved it for working her butt off since the start of her being at the dance academy. Making him pinky swear, George swore that he would be there for her first performance with her also starring as a choreographer.

“So focus on that instead of thinking your piece is going to crash and burn! Relax a bit. We only have a bit of time before we start getting ready, so let’s run it over a few more times. And don’t even think about slacking off now, missy, we’ll stretch and go get ready after.” Liam decides, and she nods, thinking it’s probably for the best. Running to her bag, (y/n) sends a quick message to George.

George J: hey, can’t wait to see you tonight! i left your ticket on your nightstand, and remember to dress up slightly, it’s a dance recital after all ;) lub you xo - sent at 1:34 p.m.

Content with her message, she tosses her phone back into her bag, and heads back to run over the piece with Liam once more.

>>>

6:47 p.m.

Sticking the last bobby-pin to her bun, (y/n) glances in the mirror to make sure no mistake is in place. Eyeing her look, she can’t help but smile looking at her dance attire, admiring how her purple leotard and dress matches her eyeshadow. Paired with a dark nude lip, she smirks and turns to check her phone for any messages, hoping that one could be from George.

Out of the nine messages she received, most were from friends and family, wishing her luck on her performance tonight. She replied with a thanks and a heart emoji before finally reading the last message coming from George about two hours ago.

George J: hi darling, i saw the ticket, i am so excited for you! can’t wait for you to take my breath away, as you always do. love you more xo  - sent at 4:48 p.m.

Smiling even wider, (y/n) puts her phone on silent, before walking towards the backstage area, passing dancers along the way. Grabbing their hands and wishing them good luck, she arrives at the destination, nerves buzzing as members of the audience start gathering at their seats. Deciding to take a peek, (y/n) rushes to the curtains, peeking her eyes out towards the front rows, trying to spot the pale boy who danced into her heart. First row, seat G for George, she giggles to herself.

“Trying to find your lover? I’m right here!” Liam asks, with (y/n) turning around.

“As much as I’d love that, I’m no Harry Styles, so I don’t think I’m your type…” (y/n) smirks.

“Hm. Where’s George, I want to see him!”

“I’m looking for him right now, Liam. Give me a second.”, (y/n) laughs as she turns back to the audience. Finding his seat, she subtly frowns seeing as he’s not in his seat yet. He’s probably in the bathroom, or still in line to get to his seat, (y/n) tries to explain to herself.

“He’s not here yet, I think he’s in the bathroom or something. But give him time, he’ll be here.” (y/n) mutters as Liam frowns at her.

“He better show up, it’s your night, (y/n).”, they grumble. They start to say more however-

“Places, everyone! Take your places! We’re starting at seven sharp!” the stage manager yells out. He continues,

“We start in five minutes!” Rushing to get off the stage, she sees dancers brush past another wishing them luck. As the ballet dancers start to move into their places for the intro piece, she then walks over to Liam, helping them set up the microphone as they begin to breathe slowly.

“Hey, you got this. It’s just reading off of cue cards and announcing pieces. And then you’ll be set for my piece. You’re going to do great, Liam.”, (y/n) tries to motivate, with Liam smiling shyly at her.

“And your piece is going to kick ass, (y/n). It’s perfection. Just wait until George sees you dance. I’m a hundred percent sure he’s going to fall for you even more.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see…” (y/n) laughs. Liam clears their throat a bit before raising the microphone to their lips. (y/n) proceeds to head to the viewing room, where a broadcast of the show would play for other dancers to watch and support their fellow castmates.

Taking a deep breath, Liam starts to speak as (y/n)’s nerves start to palpitate.

“Hello, how are you this evening? And welcome to the 67th Annual Recital for the London Dance Academy! I am your emcee, Liam Barrings, and let me introduce you to the first dance of the night created by Sam Hastings. Here is Invictus!”

>>>

8:51 p.m.

An hour later, seven dances, and many whispered good jobs, it is finally time for (y/n) to step on stage and premiere her masterpiece. Slowly tip-toeing to her first position on stage, she glances at her castmates, thanking them silently in her mind for them to trust her to bring her visions to life. Before the curtains open, she turns to Liam on her right, kneeling down and grabbing her thighs, and they smile back at her.

“Ready for it?”, they smirk. Thinking to herself, she nods and turns back to the front of the curtains waiting for the music to begin. Remember the triple pirouette after Liam grabs you. And try to look like you’re in pain from loving him. It is exquisite pain, right (y/n)? Liam is toxic, yet you still love them. Make it believable. And finally, breathe.

Another emcee, Josh begins to speak.

“And now, I present to you (y/n - y/ln)’s dance. This is her first piece with her own choreography with the London Dance Academy, and tonight, we are the very first group of people to watch her story come to life. Please let me introduce you to (y/n) and her piece, La Douleur Exquise!” the audience claps softly, before the curtains open its wings to reveal the creation.

The background, a stark white, yet the lights casts hues of soft lilacs, with streaks of dark reds splattering across the dancers’ bodies. With a small pause, music begins to sing out of the speakers. Liam and (y/n) begin the piece with a small duet. Following closely behind, a quad of dancers mimicking their moves with childlike innocence.

Liam turns to (y/n), conveying an I love you through their linked hands and they abruptly pull her to their arms, as she looks at them with confusion in her eyes and pulling away. Gliding towards the middle, the quad walks slowly to (y/n), enveloping her with open arms, before having a dance section with (y/n) in the middle as Liam looks on, hellbent on grasping (y/n) once more. Every other beat, (y/n) turns to Liam, feeling lost as if they were missing from her.

As the quad looks away, having their own small solos, (y/n) slips away from the group only to leap back into Liam’s arms with her hands grasping their face as Liam slowly grips her waist. Looking at her with renewed interest, his face morphs into fury as one of the dancers pass by her, softly guiding his fingers from her shoulder down to her inner wrist. An angry duet starts, with Liam and (y/n) clashing against each other, as if saying they hate but love each other at the same time.

(y/n) leaps into Liam’s arms, before slowly sliding herself off him as the quad of dancers, follow closely behind, lifting (y/n) to her feet. Everyone proceeds to move as one, with the quad dancing in the center, whereas Liam paces their way to (y/n), lifting her into the air once again, before they land in a small leap. Conversing with their bodies, Liam guides (y/n)’s hands to their heart, slightly pulling her along. Finally coming to the end of the dance, (y/n) runs to the center of the stage, facing the audience.

Grabbing her left arm is Liam, pulling her to their side, and the quad of dancers are pulling her on her right. The war between the two goes back and forth in a tug-of-war before (y/n) seemingly gives up and slams herself to the ground, as the music fades into silence. The audience erupts into booming claps and cheers, and (y/n) feels herself being pulled up from the ground by Liam as a light blush covers her skin. Glancing up at the audience, she tries to smile despite the stage lights burning into her. I did it, I managed to make a story, my story come to life. Hearing the audience continuing to clap, realization sets in and she finds her eyes wandering over to the front row, seat G for George. Seat empty, her smile falters and her eyes become glassy. Some would think because of her success with her piece. She couldn’t tell if she was happy or sad, maybe it was a little bit of both.

>>>

9:23 p.m.

He’s here, he has to be. He’s probably peeing or waiting for me in the front with flowers, or in the dressing room. He has to be here, I know it, (y/n) mutters to herself, hellbent on her beliefs that George is here. Yet the bitter taste of rejection starts to seep into her bones. Shaking her head a bit and attempting to put on the brightest smile, she starts to rush back to the dressing room, a sinking feeling residing in her stomach with each looming step.

Facing the dressing room door, (y/n) can’t help but hope that maybe George is standing there with a bouquet of flowers and kisses reserved for her. Slowly opening the door, her hopes slip through with her mouth curling as she stares at only her reflection in the mirror. He swore that he’d be here. He swore that he would be here for my first performance, (y/n) softly whispers to herself, tears threatening to fall. Gasping, she finally lets herself breathe as she repeats to herself again and again that he wasn’t here.

A soft knock on the door interrupts her thoughts, causing (y/n) to quickly wipe her tears before foolishly yelling out,

“George?”, as the door opens to reveal Liam and the Director himself, Nicholas Anderson.

“(y/n)? It’s us. Where’s George?” Liam asks, a frown settling into his brows.

“Oh, he’s just in the bathroom, he hasn’t been feeling good.” She lies, feeling bile itch her throat. A little white lie shouldn’t hurt anyone, (y/n) thought.

“Hello, (y/n). You looked wonderful out there! Your dance was easily one of the highlights of the night, I couldn’t stop replaying the duet between you and Liam in my head. Your dance truly captured the aspects of a toxic relationship not from one side but from both of point of views. It truly showed exquisite pain, knowing that you would always go back to Liam, but would Liam be there for you?” Nicholas explains, his words smacking (y/n) at full force. Is- is George there for me?, (y/n) thinks to herself. Nicholas continues on,

“I think you are a great addition to our Academy, and tonight truly proved how ready you are to become a full-time member. So how about it? Next season, we’ll be adding you to the roster of choreographers.” Eyes wide, (y/n) nods furiously with a yes and hugs Liam. Nicholas smiles and exits the room, leaving behind two excited dancers jumping around.

“You did it! Now we have to celebrate! Club night, I don’t care. We are going to get plastered! Bring George!” Liam laughs. At the mention of George, her stomach turns as she then realizes George wasn’t here. What sounded like good news turns to rot as she starts thinking of George.

“Let me check my phone, it has been a while in the bathroom, huh?” (y/n) tries to joke, trying hard to not let her voice waver and letting her brain scramble to come up with another small lie. Reaching through her phone, she reads over the texts once again sent from family and friends, finding the conversation between her and George. No new messages, her heart sinks as she slowly starts to open up the rest of her notifications, scrolling to most likely find the purple box that would always stay permanently stuck on her home screen. With bright white letters glaring at her, her heart begins to ebb away feeling a familiar sense of loneliness.

1h, 53 min ago: MINECRAFT MANHUNT W/ THE DREAM TEAM

Relying on her emotions, she turns to face Liam, hoping that her excitement of her promotion would overcome the feeling of abandonment of the man she loved. Plastering a sad smile through watery eyes, she forces out,

“George isn’t feeling well, he’s got an upset stomach. I think it’s the stomach flu going around.” If you can convey pain through dance, you can lie through this as well, (y/n) thought. She continues,

“I don’t know if I should be going out since he’s sick.” (y/n) mutters.

“So we go without him! It’s your celebration, his loss.” Liam rolls their eyes. His loss, my loss - seems like the same.

“I- I don’t know, Liam… I’d want to celebrate with him as well.”

“And I get that, but at least go out with us. You always have tomorrow with him, or later tonight. Do it for tonight, do it because you’re going to be a choreographer next season! At least do it for me and the group. We’ve worked our ass all season and we made your vision come true.” Liam explains. Contemplating with herself, (y/n) resolves with a soft smile and mutters an okay. Pumping their fist in the air, Liam excuses themselves to notify the others of the good news and plans.

Once again facing the mirror, (y/n) repeats with determination to celebrate her night. It’s her night to celebrate with loved ones, even if the one she loved the most isn’t there beside her. So much trying to take your breath away when you weren’t even here, George. Taking a breath, she forces out a shaky laugh and tries to smile. Let’s go celebrate, (y/n).

>>>

1:39 a.m.

Slightly stumbling out of the taxi, (y/n) manages to slowly walk her way up to his doorsteps, phone still showing that George was still streaming. Pausing her hand on the doorknob, she resolves to try to wait until morning to confront him, not trusting herself completely to be okay in front of him. Opening the door softly, she walk in, attempting to not make a sound. With small steps, she closes and locks the door before setting her bags down. That can be cleaned tomorrow, (y/n) thought. Rubbing her eyes, she decides to make herself tea before she goes to bed, most likely not with George until he finishes his stream.

While making her tea, (y/n) thinks of everything that she has worked for in the last few months. Endless changes to her dance, countless small injuries, whether it be a jammed toe/finger, scrapes of blood scattered around her feet from dragging her feet too hard across the floor, everything. Why is it that with her triumph, she is beyond proud yet the idea of George not being there to witness her moment shatters that accomplishment? Mulling it over, she doesn’t notice George bustling down the stairs, finished with his successful 5 hour stream with Dream and Sapnap. Spotting (y/n) making her tea, he slowly approaches her and wraps his arms around her waist, landing a soft kiss to her shoulders.

“Why are you home late, Darling? It’s nearly almost two in the morning.”, George chuckles, as (y/n) freezes in his arms. Softly shaking her head, she tries to side-step out of his arms and brings her tea to the opposite side of the room, wrapping an arm around herself. Clearly, he didn’t remember, (y/n) slowly starts to think and repeat to herself.

“Why do you think I was out, George?” she softly asks, taking a sip of tea to calm her nerves. I guess we’re just going to have to hash it out now.

“I don’t know, but did you see the stream? I beat Dream at the last second and he was this close to defeating the Ender Dragon!”, George starts to explain while laughing, with (y/n) taking a harsh breath in. Pinching in-between her brows, she snaps,

“No, George, I didn’t see the stream because I went out to celebrate.”, she mutters, tears slowly starting to escape.

“(y/n)? Is there something wrong? Why are you crying?“ Turning around, (y/n) tries to look anywhere but him. She settles on looking at the clock, watching as time went by, and her nerves increasing with each second. George starts to say more-

“I needed you tonight. Do you remember what tonight was? To my career? To me?”, (y/n) cuts him off. Standing there without a thought, dread slowly seeps in as George realizes that he missed her performance. He starts to stutter,

“Darling, I- “

“No! No. You do not get to apologize. I needed you and where were you? Sitting on your ass playing Minecraft with Dream and Sapnap! I get that your career is very reliant on you being consistent with your uploads, but you couldn’t have taken a night off? For me? I- ”

“(y/n), it’s not like that at- “

“Don’t- just don’t try to explain or come up with excuses. I just don’t want to hear it George. I spent months working on this, exhausted yet still pushing myself for the damn Academy. You swore that you would be there. I left you the ticket on your nightstand, you even texted me saying that you were excited to come! So imagine me standing on stage, looking at the front row, seat G, and where the hell were you? Not there, George. You were not there. I looked like a fool waiting for you to see me perform and dance. Do you remember Nicholas Anderson?”, (y/n) tries to ask calmly. George only stare at her with defeated eyes as he shakes his head no. Cursing, she heaves out a breath before continuing,

“He’s the director of the Academy, George. He’s offered me a position to be a permanent member and choreographer for the London Dance Academy. So please, let me ask again: where were you? I had to lie to Liam and say that you had an upset stomach and that you couldn’t come out! So, Liam invited me to celebrate with the dancers, to celebrate tonight’s success.”

“(y/n)- (y/n), we can celebrate now. I know- I truly know I messed up, but I can fix it, we can celebrate right now!” George stumbles out, walking towards her to grab her hands. Stepping back, she glares at George, appalled that he truly thinks he could resolve this. Shaking her head harshly, she bites out,

“I don’t want to celebrate with you. I’ve already celebrated with loved ones.” Rolling his eyes, George tries to reason with (y/n).

“Okay, I get it. I’m the bad guy in this scenario. But I’m trying to make this right. I am so sorry, darling, but I want to make it up to you, you know I am sorry.”

“You know, I never ask you to cancel a stream or get off of the stream. I always try to understand for the life of me why the streams have to be long, but I try. I always watch your streams and interact with your fans for your sake. I’ve had to explain countless reasons as to why you never show up to my performances, or why you can’t go out with me with the other dancers. And I am okay with it, don’t get me wrong. I know how much Twitch and YouTube and the Dream Team means to you. But you mean everything to me as well. So forgive me if I wanted to be a little selfish and ask you to support me in one of the biggest performances of my life.”

“I can go to the next one, (y/n). It’s not like it’s the last performance.” George snaps.

“You don’t get it, do you?”, she asks, wiping furiously at her tears, trying to not stutter through her words.

“What is there to get? Clearly I’m trying my hardest to make it up to you.”, he replies.

“I love you. I’m so much in love with you, it hurts. But you don’t get it. I have been there for everything in your career. Your first hundred subscribers, your first million subscribers, when you won the MCC back to back, everything. This was- is the important night of my life, and you didn’t show up. You stuck with Dream and Sapnap and decided to stream instead. This night was important for my career, and you knew! I told you months and weeks in advance. I wanted you to take charge and clear your schedule for today and- and sit in the damn seat that I chose because G stood for George. It was for you.” She sobs out, chest shaking as she tries to collect the words tumbling out of her mouth. With eyes flashing in annoyance, George tries to speak over her tears,

“(y/n)- “

“I created this dance for you! For me and- and for us. Because we believed in each other and had the support for each other. Clearly, it was one-sided and tonight proved that.”

“(y/n), listen to me- ”, George stops himself. Watching (y/n) fall apart, he takes a shaky breath and tries to walk closer to (y/n). However, (y/n) takes more steps back, leaving a distance of hostility and guilt between the two lovers.

“I love you. I love you with all of my heart. And… and I know you love me. But I needed you. Do you even need me?” she asks, the thick silence covering the air.

“Yes! How- how could you even say that, (y/n)?“ George replies just as quick as she finished asking. Looking at him for the first time tonight, she lets out a sob. With cheeks red, hands tugging at his hair, and George frantically looking at her, (y/n) can’t help but cry a little more.

“Because tonight proved otherwise. I wanted a night of you to myself to watch me be pretty and dance, and you didn’t even give up one night for me.”, she says, tugging at her sweater. Looking up, she further goes on to say,

“How stupid would it be if I were to ask to choose between me or the Dream Team? Or- Or your career?”, barking out a bitter laugh as George stares with guilt. As silence meets her ears, (y/n) slowly starts to sober up, eyes slightly widening with shock.

“George…”

“I’d find a way to make it work, I’ve been making it work for us since the beginning!” George snaps.

“George, you know I would never ask that, because I personally think it’s a selfish question. But if I decided to ask seriously, right now. What’s your answer?”

“And I’m telling you, I am making both work. Please believe me, (y/n).”, George says quietly, grasping at whatever opportunities there are left to resolve this potentially fatal matter.

“I can’t tell anymore.”, her voice cracking as fresh tears pool down her cheeks.

“I don’t think I can stay here for a while. At least until I’ve had some time to think.”, she manages to force out.

“(y/n), you can’t be serious. No, we are fixing this now!” George tries to say with an unwavering voice, eyes slowly becoming glassy.

“I can’t look at you George without wanting to cry, and- and scream- yet tell you I love you, even if you don’t deserve my love, especially right now. I need to go- I’m going to go. I’ll be back in a while.”, (y/n) says, choking on her words. Walking backwards, she turns to the door, with George following her and watching her pick up her dance bags. Lying on the ground was a bouquet of flowers, crumpled amongst her heart. Choosing not to pick up the bouquet, she mumbles out,

“I’ll call you when I’m ready.” Pausing, (y/n) looks up at George for the final time tonight, willing herself to not run back to him, despite how much the desire is growing to do so.

“I love you, George.”, opening the door, George yells out,

“I love- “, the door cutting through his confession, acting as a wall between the two. George tries to reach the door knob, ready to run after the love of his life. Yet… he’s frozen on the spot, with tears finally trickling down his cheeks, and pushing deep breaths out to steady his shaking heart.

Why are you crying, George?

[msmercury84]

"I Double Dare You," Chapter 8: It's Showtime!

*Author's note: Yes, I shamelessly stole the dance routine, costume idea and song from Bette Middler in "For the Boys." When I saw this video clip, I knew that my OC had to do this song.*

Fort Benning, Georgia, January, 1943

The night of the show, Leigh was the last contestant scheduled to perform. She was in the dressing room ensuring that the seams in her stockings were straight. The USO gave each contestant a pair of stockings so every woman could look her best.

Since the beginning of the war, silk and nylon were taken off the market and primarily used for the war effort. Women had to make due with rayon, which proved be loose fitting compared to nylon or silk. Sometimes women purchased makeup to use on their legs to give the illusion of wearing stockings and eyebrow pencils were used to create the illusion of a seam up the back of each leg.

Once the stocking seams were straight, Spencer opened the box containing the corsage Bill purchased for her and carefully pinned it to the left lapel of her uniform. The USO donated the red, white or blue uniforms. She was also wearing the angel necklace, her Christmas present from Guarnere.

Leigh was pleased to see Bill in the audience occupying the seat the USO reserved for him. Spencer was standing in an area backstage that allowed her to see the audience without the audience seeing her.

Guarnere, like the other enlisted men in attendance, wore his dress uniform. He, Bull Randleman, George Luz, Shifty Powers and Don Malarkey stood out in the crowd wearing their trousers bloused over the tops of their meticulously shined Corcoran boots. Colonel Sink was also sitting with the Easy Company men and he was eager to see the performances of Spencer and Adams.

The emcee stepped up to the microphone and said, "Last, but not least, Miss Leigh Spencer!" Leigh's uniform was sapphire blue and the jacket looked like a short dress, shorter than the dresses and skirts women wore, but long enough to provide modest coverage.

Spencer's shoulder length hair was coiffed to perfection and she wore it down, the waves and curls framing her face. She sported glossy red nail polish that matched her lipstick and she accentuated her eyes with eyeliner, an eyebrow pencil and mascara. The mascara American women used in the 1940s was a cake of brown or black mascara in a small plastic case. The mascara was applied with a tiny brush that fit into the plastic case. Spencer also wore a hint of rouge and some powder on her face.

Leigh walked onstage confidently and took her place at the microphone. Guarnere thought,

"Holy Christ, my baby looks beautiful! Just like one o' them bombshell dames in the movies."

The band played the opening chord to Leigh's number. She looked demure as she sang,

"I was alone on a shelf. In a world by myself. Oh, where could my Prince Charming be?" She turned slightly to the right, smiling as she sang,

"But a man came along, made my life like a song, and taught me these words of ecstasy. Tenderly."

Bill felt that his heart was nearly bursting with pride and love for his girl. Guarnere knew that he had been hit by what his father called "the bolt of lightning" the day he met Leigh.

He had liked and lusted after girls before, but he had never been in love before. Guarnere thought,

"Ain't no doubt about it. I love this angel." Bill knew that Spencer cared about him a great deal. He decided to take a risk and tell her how he felt after the show was over.

The orchestra struck another chord and Leigh raised both arms. She started snapping her fingers and doing a slight shimmy to the boogie woogie rhythm, singing,

"I want some huggin' and some squeezin' and some muggin' and some teasin' and some stuff like that there. I want some pettin' and some spoonin' and some happy honeymoonin' and some stuff like that there." She moved forward, still snapping her fingers, the smile never leaving her face,

"I used to think that love was just a lot of rubbish" she turned to her left, "a mess o' cabbage," she turned to her right, "a mess of cabbage." Spencer stood in the center of the stage,

"But now my attitude is wholly lovey dovish. And Baby you, you've done it." She resumed snapping her fingers and doing a slight shimmy,

" I want some kissin' and some hopin' and some missin' and some mopin' and some stuff like that there. I want some leapin' and some chasin' and some weepin' and some pacin' and some stuff like that there."

The men in the audience, Colonel Sink included, were now standing and clapping their hands in time to the music. Spencer sang,

"And when I get a certain feelin' I confess it. There's really only one expression to express it. I want some kissin' and some hopin' and some missin' and some mopin' and some leapin' and some chasin' and some weepin' and some pacin' and some stuff. I want some stuff like that there!"

The band began an instrumental portion of the song. Spencer danced backwards on stage for a few measures, clapping her hands. Then, she strutted up to the microphone and quickly took several steps backwards to her left.

She then stepped in front of the microphone, moving it closer to the end of the stage. Leigh felt nearly giddy at this point and exihilerated. Bill wanted to shout,

"That's my baby!" but he didn't want to detract attention from Spencer's performance. He thought,

" I never knew she could dance. Look at her go! She has this entire audience eatin' out of the palm of her hand." Leigh sang,

"I used to think romance was bunk. A double mickey for the icky. But all at once my heart was sunk. And Baby, you," she pointed at Guarnere and winked,

" You've done it." Bill returned the wink and he had a big smile on his face. She sang,

" I want some kissin' and some hopin' and some missin' and some mopin' and some," (She said in a sexy voice) "stuff like that there. I want some leapin' and some chasin' and some weepin' and some pacin' and some (She raised her arms up over her head and bumped her hips to the right and to the left) stuff like that there."

Bill shouted out,

"That's my baby!" A soldier sitting in the next row heard Bill and gave him a look of disbelief, saying,

"You wish!" The soldier's friends laughed, but Guarnere didn't hear them. He was too caught up in the moment. Spencer sang,

"And when I get a certain feelin' I confess it. There's really only one expression to express it. "

She stood in the center of the stage,

"I want some huggin', squeezin', muggin', teasin' and some stuff," Leigh raised her arms over her head,"I want some stuff like that there!"

After the last note faded away, Spencer was surprised by the loud applause from the men who were still standing up. She thanked the audience, took a bow and walked offstage.

Leigh knew that she had done her best, no matter the outcome. It took a few minutes for the men to sit down and be quiet, then the emcee returned to the stage.

He announced,

"The judges are making their decisions. While we wait, here's some music to keep things moving along." Backstage, the contestants had the option of remaining in the wings of the stage or sitting in the audience if they had significant others who were watching the show.

Spencer and Adams decided to sit with Guarnere and Randleman. The women carefully made their way to a staircase that led to the auditorium.

Leigh noticed that there was an empty seat beside Bill when she was performing. Melissa and Leigh opened the door and walked into the auditorium.

Although the house lights were still down, they had no problem locating their boyfriends. Adams sat beside Bull, who hugged and kissed her.

Spencer walked up to the seat beside Bill and whispered in his ear, "Excuse me, Sir, is this seat taken?" Guarnere was on his feet in an instant, embracing Leigh and kissing her.

"Baby, ya done one hell of a good job! "

"Just look at ya, drop dead gorgeous! You're every bit as good as Judy Garland an' those other music movie broads!"

Leigh smiled, enjoying Bill's review of her performance and his compliments. Guarnere realized that the show was still going on. He took Spencer's hand and they sat down.

The soldier who doubted that Leigh was Bill's girl was proven wrong as he witnessed the couple embracing, kissing, sitting together and holding hands. Once they were seated, Spencer told Guarnere,

"Thanks so much for the beautiful roses. You're so sweet and thoughtful!"

"It was my pleasure, Sweetheart. He kissed Spencer's hand, telling her, "I swear to God, you could make a livin' singin' and dancin'."

"Thanks, Bill." Before anything else could be said, the emcee returned and announced,

"The judges have made their decisions," Guarnere took Spencer's hand, saying,

"It's OK, Baby, you've got this thing won."

"I hope you're right." The emcee told the audience,

"Due to a special circumstance, the USO judges would like to call Colonel Sink onstage. Sink got up from his seat and walked up some stairs at the right side of the stage. Once he was onstage, the emcee and Sink conferred away from the microphone and with their backs to the audience.

Leigh thought, "Could it possibly be..." Sink stepped up to the microphone and stated,

"It gives me great pleasure to announce the name of the first woman selected by the USO. She got her start at Camp Toccoa and she works here at Fort Benning, the talented comedienne Melissa Adams!" The audience applauded. Bull hugged a very stunned Melissa. Bill whispered to Leigh,

"It ain't over yet, Baby. You've gotta be the next one." After a dramatic pause, Colonel Sink continued,

"It gives me great pleasure and a sense of pride to announce the name of the second woman selected by the USO. She also got her start at Camp Toccoa and she also works at Fort Benning, the singing and dancing fireball Leigh Spencer! The audience applauded again.

Leigh jumped up from her seat, shouting,

"Oh my God, Bill, I made it!". Guarnere quickly stood up, embracing Spencer and giving her a passionate kiss, telling Leigh, "I am so goddamned proud of ya, Baby," he grinned, adding, "I knew ya had this thing won. Old Guarnere ain't never wrong."

He put his hands on Leigh's waist, lifting her and gently spinning her around. Spencer had a radiant smile on her face and she giggled as Bill literally swept her off her feet.

A quick thinking reporter with a camera took pictures of Leigh jumping out of her seat, plus two pictures of Guarnere kissing her and briefly spinning her around. He approached the happy couple, telling them,

"I'm Roger Anderson from the Stars and Stripes newspaper. I just took some pictures of you two. Would you please pose for one picture together in case the other pictures I took didn't turn out well?"

Bill replied,

"Sure, that's fine wit'me." Spencer gave her consent. Anderson told Bill,

"Sergeant , you have red lipstick on your lips. You might want to get that cleaned off before I take the picture. Bill got a handkerchief out of a pocket in his dress uniform jacket and wiped off the lipstick returning the handkerchief to his pocket.

Then he and Leigh posed side by side. Guarnere had his arm around Leigh's shoulders.

"Sir, if it isn't too much trouble, would you please send copies of the newspapers and copies of the pictures to our families? Also, would you please get some copies of the paper and the pictures for us?"

"That's a good idea, Sweetheart." Anderson said,

"I'll be glad to get pictures and papers to everyone you mentioned, including yourselves. All I need are names and addresses, plus the correct spellings of both of your names." He handed a reporter's notebook and a pencil to Guarnere.

As he wrote, Leigh commented,

"Bill, you have exquisite handwriting. Mr. Anderson, I will do my best to make my handwriting legible. It usually looks as if I held the pen with my toes." Guarnere chuckled at her remark.

Spencer filled out all of the necessary information. Bill told her,

"It looks fine to me, Baby." Anderson added,

"It looks good, Miss Spencer. Thanks for posing for the picture Sergeant Guarnere and thank you, Miss Spencer. I promise to get everything delivered as soon as possible."

During this time, the show officially ended and the audience began to leave the auditorium. Shifty Powers came up to Melissa and told her,

"Congratulations, Miss Adams. I declare, you are a born story teller. If it wouldn't be too much of a problem, would you please write down your jokes? I'd like to send them to my daddy. He would really enjoy them."

"Thank you, Shifty. I'd be glad to write my jokes down for you. I bet your daddy is proud of you earnin' your jump wings." Powers shyly replied,

"Thank you, Miss Adams, I reckon that he's proud of me." Powers then went to Leigh, telling her,

"Congratulations, Miss Spencer. You did some fine singing and dancing and you looked like a movie star up on that stage," Leigh replied,

"Thanks so much, Shifty. I really appreciate your nice compliments." Meanwhile, George Luz stepped up to talk to Bill, telling him,

"You should've left the red lipstick on. It made you look beautiful." Guarnere chuckled and told George,

"Shaddup!"

Malarkey congratulated both women and headed out for the NCO club. An informal gathering had been planned for the small group. A middle aged USO female volunteer walked onto the stage asking,

"Will all contestants please return their uniforms to the dressing room before leaving the building? " Melissa headed for the dressing room. Randleman promised to wait for her.

Bill embraced Leigh, tenderly kissing her, saying,

"My baby's gonna be a star." He lowered his voice, telling Spencer,

"I wish they allowed ya to keep that dress. You have no idea what it does to me." Leigh also kept her voice low, saying to Guarnere,

"Maybe they would let me borrow it for one evening. Then, you can show me exactly what that dress does to you."

"Sink was right. You're a fireball. My little fireball." Leigh replied,

"Damned straight I'm yours." Guarnere commented,

"Don't forget that, ya sassy, sexy dame." Spencer said,

"I never want to forget that, you sexy dream boat. I'll be back as soon as I can."

@lizziebitch3. @alluringmoonlightbabe

[jeontaehui]

nananananana (210331 VLIVE)

taehee bites back a grin as fans enter the live. “hello everyoneeee,” she greets softly, her cheekbones lifting into a soft smile. “i’m in the practice room once again.”

“i was just learning a dance actually, it’s my break right now so this’ll probably be short,” she mentions. “and then i turned on vlive without asking permission— well, i did ask permission after i... turned it on,” she giggles. “she’s gonna say yes anyways. no one can say no to me,” the comments section blows up after she sent a sly wink to the viewers. she knew her effect on them one way or another. 

mark lee i love you HELLO THE TITLE?? IS THIS A SPOILER???

lee donghyuck’s long hair i only entered the live but i feel like crying T—T why must she be so cute

taeyongbub taehee in the practice room is so attractive??? wth???

taehee tucks a few strands behind her ear asking, “did you guys have dinner already? have you guys eaten?”

mataechan what did taehee eat today?

hyuckschurros PIZZA !!!!

“aw, pizza? i’m craving now,” she shortly puts on a pout before a smile shows itself once again. “i haven’t eaten but i think i’ll have........ um,” taehee seems to think for a moment as she looks up the ceiling, trying to remember what jungwoo said she’d have at the dorms.

“i can’t remember,” she shrugs, proceeding to continue reading the comments.

jungwoo tehet are you going to dance again?

aussiechan TAEHEEEE !!! come home to australia :(

svtzen DREAM SPOILERS PLEASEE

“the dance that me and my teacher did today was to party favors by tinashe! i have to practice some more to get it right but i’m,” she stands up and dusts off her track pants, placing the phone on the floor in front of the mirror, “going to show you guys the part where i’m most confident in.”

she disappears as she goes to the side to play the music, and the strong beats of tinashe’s party favors fills the practice room. she adjusts her pants around her waist and runs a hand through her black hair, ruffling her bangs for a moment before getting into position.

she dances. no matter how hard-hitting the choreography is, taehee knew well how to control her own body, and gracefully yet powerfully sync her movements to the beats.

taehee marry me she’s so hot what the heck do i do

markcity i’m single for this reason only

fullsunnn THIS IS WHY WE NEED A TAEHEE SOLO ASAP !!!

from the corner of her eye, taehee sees her dance instructor imitate the part where she got the dance wrong during their practice, causing her to lose focus and burst into laughter.

ncityinthehouse everyone, the duality of miss jeon taehee

“unnie is laughing at me right now!” taehee giggles. her eyes glance to the side then back to the screen. “yes so, until there did i memorize the dance. i’ll try to post on instagram the full version of it. oh!” she claps her hands excitedly, a habit nctzens took note of before she says an idea.

“since it’s a wednesday today and! the end of the month, you guys can comment whatever you guys want me to do or any question you want to ask and i’ll answer them.”

“i’m going to scroll with my eyes closed and whatever my finger lands on will be picked,” she cutely asks if the viewers got it before briefly explaining what she just said in english.

“i’ll give you guys maybe 30 seconds? is 30 seconds enough? okay, ready and start!”

taehee bobbed her head as she counted the numbers in her head. “30! okay, i’ll close my eyes now.”

juhfahm skincare routine?

merrymark give us a phone tour :D

twiceyeon please watch switch to me by dahyun and chaeyoung !!!! <3

“from twiceyeon,” taehee reads, putting her emcee mode on. “please watch switch to me by dahyun and chaeyoung! ohh i think i’ve seen this on my recommended but i haven’t had the time to watch it— sorry, chaeyoung-ah,” she winces.

you can hear keys being tapped on taehee’s phone screen as she typed the title on youtube’s search bar. the music video appears a few seconds later and she immediately clicks on it.

“oooo dahyun-ssi is very pretty,” taehee says. her expression quickly changes when she sees the twice member use her foot as she played the piano, her hand going up to cover the giggles that escaped out of her. “this is so cool,” she beamed.

“oh sexy!” taehee exclaims after chaeyoung appeared. “i really like chaengie’s short hair.”

she compliments the set when the scene changes, a summer pool vibe replacing the vintage set-up at the intro. “the dance is cute too,” she mumbles.

she smiles at chaeyoung and dahyun’s playfulness in the music video before moving on to compliment her best friend again. “chaeyoung is seriously so pretty... whaaat!”

taehee continues to watch the rest of the video as she moves to the beat, occasionally letting out a chuckle or two at the adorableness of the duo.

“hold on,” she grabs her earphones and plugs them into her phone. “(it’s) to avoid copyright,” she smirks.

taehee finishes the music video with a grin on her face, “the music video was very cute! did they perform this on stage? i think the stage set and the fits would’ve been pretty.”

“speaking of music videos, baekhyun hyung’s new album just dropped yesterday! have you guys watched the music video?” taehee shuffles closer to the camera to read the comments. almost everyone was saying that they did, in fact, watch the music video and really enjoyed it.

“i never said this directly to him but i really am a fan of his, seriously,” she dictates. taehee breaks into a grin as she giggles again, the viewers watching how her eyes twinkled while she talked. “‘bambi’ is really great— it’s immaculate. you guys should stream the whole album and recommend it to your family and friends. baekhyunie hyung never fails to deliver (good songs).”

bbhubblegum taehee promoting baekhyun and other artists better than sm pt. 74628392

going on her phone, she mumbles, “and i really like the choreography of his songs.” there was an adorable pout to her lips as she spoke, much to the amusement of the viewers.

then she looks up from the device in her hands and her eyes hold a certain glint in them before she playfully squints. “just be quiet about this though. i am never gonna hear the end of this from him,” she shakes her head with an amused chuckle, recalling all the times baekhyun teased her and the ‘admiration’ she has for him.

“you’re my only bambi bambi,” taehee sang effortlessly. “it’s a perfect night for you,” her tone was a little softer this time.

“okay so that was our first request? dare? of the live, let’s get to the next one right away!”

taeheeroar do you listen to the neighborhood?

wooyoungification do you want to collab with anyone? if so, who?

“the next one is.... wooyoungification! ooo wooyoung-ah hello,” taehee says, prolonging the last syllable of her sentence. “they asked, “do you want to collab with anyone? if so, who?”

“well,” she clears her throat, furrowing her eyebrows as if she were in thought. “there are a lot of great artists out there. taylor swift is already my answer by default but,” she giggles again, “if i have to think of people outside sm, i think it’d be nice to have a collab with stray kids’ 3racha. they’re their producing unit if i’m not mistaken. it’d be fun to work with them.”

“i also had this dream of having a collaboration stage with the other dancers outside nct, like blackpink’s lisa or seulgi unnie. would you guys want that?”

midzyseason this isnt good for my gay ass

reveluvbar can taehee just take over sm

taehee hums, “i think i never mentioned it before but i wanna try doing drama ost’s too. i don’t watch as much dramas as i do before, but when i was still learning korean, they helped me so much.”

“i watched ‘guardian: the lonely and great god’ a lot and i really liked ‘stay with me’. hopefully, i can collab with punch too.”

taehee unconsciously moves her lips to the side, forming another pout and thinks again. “from sm, i think kai hyung? not counting superm, okay?” she beams.

“kai hyung and,” then a snort escapes taehee before she could even stop it, “baekhyun hyung.”

she puts a hand to her chest once she recovers from her mini-giggling fit before holding it up and swearing it was the truth. “these two were the ones that came to the top of my head, seriously.”

beansprout lolll remember when kai used to “complain” about taehee ever only talking about sehun cause he was the one she was closest to in exo when they first met ?

sodangerous it’s so touching how taehee looked up to exo while she was still a trainee and now they’re like family

taehee nods and bites her bottom lip, asking herself, “why do i feel like a youtuber?”

she smiles to someone off screen and quickly glances back to the camera, “next question!”

asteroidsung what did you get for renjun’s birthday?

“what did i get for renjun’s birthday? i just gave mine literally yesterday. i know it’s summer but i gave him a hoodie that i thought would look cute on him,” she smiles. “it was pink.”

“i was with haechanie when i bought it.”

chenlezoned hyuck said he’s gonna marry daegal next month

“hyuck’s gonna marry who now?!” taehee exclaims, “DAEGAL’S A MINOR!!!”

dreamtopia BYEEEEEEE

themissingpuzzlepiece everyone at haechan marrying daegal:❓❓meanwhile taehee: 🌋🌋⁉️

boohoohyuck sending my prayers to lee haechan

just then, taehee’s phone suddenly rings and her eyes widen at the caller id displayed on the screen. “wow, this dude’s timing is really! spot-on.”

she puts the speaker on, “donghyuck-ah, what’s this i’m hearing that you’re marrying daegal?? are you leaving me and chubs already?! oh and you’re on speaker.”

fullseun don’t you just cry on the inside when markhee calls hyuck by his real name or fullsun

you hear haechan’s boisterous laughter first before he could answer taehee’s question. “i talked about that on vlive,” he said, “where are you?”

“i’m doing vlive.”

“but it’s almost midnight.”

when taehee makes no move to answer, haechan goes, “are you in the practice room again?”

“so?” taehee answers sassily, causing the boy on the other end of the line to groan.

“noona, we talked about this already,” haechan whines. “then we can talk about it again later!” taehee shrugs exasperatedly. “noona....” the former warns, as if he was scolding a child. “i’m just on a break,” she gives in, “i’ll go home soon.”

“promise?” taehee rolls her eyes, though it was clear that she was grateful for haechan’s concern by the soft smile she held on her face. “i promise.”

taehyuckles i know i wished for a taehyuck live but this will suffice Gosh they are so cute !!!!!!

“you haven’t said hello to czennie,” taehee reminds him. “czennie, hello!!” he greets sweetly.

“anyways, i just called you because you agreed to playing a few rounds with me but i’ll just wait for you until you get home,” taehee winces at his statement. she might have forgotten. “oh right, i’m sorry. just a few more minutes?” haechan hums affirmatively from the other end.

“get home safely, noonaaa,” after they exchanged their goodbyes, taehee hangs up the call.

“yes, okay! everyone that was lee haechan on the phone with me and i think i can do,” she turns her back to look at the wall clock in the practice room, “three more comments.”

yangqied taehee’s an idol in the day, pro-gamer by night

“okay, so our next question is: are you friends with aespa? yes! i am friends with aespa,” she beamed.

“i actually saw them the day before their debut stage. my time slot in the practice room was after theirs and so we met there,” taehee recalls. “they’re very pretty! and they look cool when they danced to ‘black mamba’. i wished them luck on their debut stage,” she chuckles.

taehee closes her eyes and proceeds to swipe at the screen, “next question is... oh! i dare you to post on instagram. okay, let me find some photos and show you guys so we can all vote.”

“i’ll send them on bubble but i’ll show it here too in case you guys don’t have a subscription. that’s okay.”

markerlee tb to when taehee sent her pcs to bubble... she really said fuck capitalism !!!!

“okay, option 1: this one,” she brings her phone up to the screen, showing a picture of her with the bird filter on mac.

jisungbye I LIKE THIS ONEEE

kunniekunkun this one’s cute!!!

moloism markhee pls post ur photos with the mac filters im begging you

“orrrr this one,” she faces her phone towards the camera once more. she was sitting on the pavement with the view of the orange-pink sunset behind her, a mask concealing half of her face.

the127thsense everything just screams girlfriend material to me

deryqueen taehee, i am free this friday. i repeat, i am free this friday.

solhyuck i think you should post these as a set on instagram!

“what should i post on instagram? everyone choose between 1 or 2!” taehee tells them in korean, before switching to english. “you guys pick between the first one and the second one, and i’ll post it on instagram.”

oncezenni 2

flamboyanthyuck the second one!

ohmajesus i like the first one

iamjeno second pleaseee

“mm okay, most of you are voting for the second one so i’ll be posting that first thing tomorrow! and then i’ll just send the other one on bubble,” taehee puts her pinky finger up as she speaks, making a promise to the viewers.

“how many was that? two already?” a pout subtly makes its way on taehee’s lips and a few of her hair strands fell in front of her face, causing her to push them back as she huffed. nctzens found it adorable!

takeoffbesttrack can i kiss you.

“can you kiss me?” taehee presses her lips on the tips of her fingers before lightly tapping them on the screen. “i,” one of the corners of her mouth raises to a smirk, “kissed you.”

mahaecries GODDDD

tenvely you will be the death of me

deryqueen AGAIN TAEHEE I AM FREE THIS FRIDAY NIGHT !!!!!!!!!!

taehee giggles after seeing the comment section blow up and her dimples peek out from her cheeks.

“i’m gonna have to end this soon, guys. this is the last one, okay?”

haecity can you go live with markhyuck?

snoopyscoop do you have any more funny stories with jungwoo?

taromilktea did you see sungchan when he debuted as an emcee?

“did i go see sungchan when he debuted as emcee? nooo,” she frowns, “but i did call him on facetime.”

“he said he was nervous but i told him he’d do great! and he did, right?” taehee’s frown was quickly turned into a proud grin. “i watched a replay of it on youtube the day after. he was very cute.”

“i told him to just think of it like he was talking to us so he’s more comfortable, and he told me it helped a lot so i’m relieved,” she nods. “i sent him churros too!”

taehee shuffles closer to the camera and brings her knees close to her chest while she talks, “please support him! i know sungchanie’s glad to have received this opportunity that’s why he’s been practicing diligently.”

taehee reads a few more comments and smiles at the funny ones. the humor of nctzens never fail to make her smile. the memes they send during menpas are so hilarious that she can’t help but reply to most of them.

taeheespresident i guess she’s gonna end the live now? :(

jungwootehet it’s nearing 1 am and i still have school tomorrow...... whoops!

“i’ll have to go now guys, it was nice doing all this with you,” taehee softly mumbles.

“i like this idea of having you guys comment what you would want me to do ‘cause i’m able to connect with you guys more, i’ll try to do a live again soon.”

“the weather’s nice here in korea— well at least for me,” she chuckles, “it rained recently but it might be hot? in other places so please remember to stay hydrated and drink lots of water.”

“also wear your masks and keep social distancing! we’re not only trying to protect ourselves but we have to stop the spreading of it all so,” taehee gives another small smile at the camera as she reminds the people to be careful, “stay safe.”

after a few beats of silence, taehee speaks again. “okay so, until here is taehee’s nananananana live!” she sings while doing the infamous choreo of ‘go’.

empathy127 I KNEW IT WAS FROM GO !!!!

“good night! or good morning to those who are starting their day right now,” she adds, “goodnight! we’ll see you guys soon.”

taehee does her infamous ily hand gesture and winks at the camera before waving bye and ending the livestream.

[pumpkin-pi-e]

Writing prompt: Yandere erasermic with darling on their period.

[Enter Hizashi and Shouta playing a board game on their day off, Shouta just knows his husband is cheating, they both do, he just can’t figure out how he’s doing it, much to the blonde’s smug delight.]

You heard them before you saw them. Voices filtered down the hall as you laboriously made your way towards the commotion.

“Don’t hate the player, Shou, hate the game.”

“We both know you’re cheating, you could at least admit to it.”

“No bluffs, just luck.”

Rounding the corner, you entered the living room only to see Yamada leaned over the coffee table, using both arms to gather a pile of goods to himself, grinning like the canary that outsmarted the cat.

The pro heroes were sat around the piece of furniture in their casuals, hair down and fuzzy socks, a board between them. An airy melody of jazz dances and drifts in the air, mingling with the spice of fresh-baked cookies; the soft glow of the television cast warmth on the matching mugs swirling with chocolate and topped with marshmallows that bobbed to the mellow beat.

“How are you doing this?” The erasure hero demanded, red irises darting back and forth between the gloating emcee and the board with a scowl.

“Just get good,” He threw back matter of factly.

“Get on my level, scrub!”

At that, Aizawa makes direct eye contact with the voice hero, looking him dead in the eyes as he lifts an arm, a blonde brow raises in question at the stare down, and in one sweeping motion he knocks the board from the coffee table, pieces and all.

...

The DJ takes a moment to process, eyeing the mess of scattered pieces silently before raising his gaze to meet his partner’s, emerald clashing with charcoal.

“No one likes a sore loser, babe.”

In response, the teacher merely flicked a remaining pawn from the table.

“If you aren’t going to play fair then I won’t either.”

A pout tugs at Hizashi’s lip for all of five seconds before he’s springing back, and on the attack. Shouta starts at the smolder he’s suddenly on the receiving end of, thrown off by his swift change in attitude, watching with narrowed eyes of suspicion as his spouse crawls towards him on all fours, wanton, expression dripping with carnality, and further scrambling discarded bits of the game in his wake. He reflexively shrinks further into the couch. “Not a fan of chess? We can play another game, baby.” Shouta backpedals, making the symbol of the cross. “We’re supposed to be having a relaxing evening, remember?” He didn’t sign up for strenuous activity. “Playing board games.” He furthered his point by sparing a quick glance at the tall stack of boxes resting forlornly at the corner of the table, indignant in their stillness as if to say: are we a joke to you? “An idea of yours, mind you.” He sternly pressed, looking back, not daring to let his lascivious lover leave his sight for more than a second. Only to find him much too close for comfort. “Here, kitty, kitty.” He croons as Shouta continues to evade his clutches. Done with foreplay, Hizashi pounces.

He jumped into his lap with enthusiasm, pulling a grunt from the body below, throwing his arms around Shouta’s neck, he threw his hair back to better grin down at his captive.“How ‘bout stripper twister?”

“Get off.”

“And if I don’t?” Slow sensual swirls over his seat drew a startled gasp that tapered into a hiss, Hizashi’s hips moved in perfect circles, throwing it back like a dancer as eager hands roamed the expanse of his husband’s broad chest, grabbing greedy handfuls of his generous pecs. “You gonna purr for me, Chaton de sexe?” He all but panted into the other’s ear, getting worked up from the promises he continued to whisper in French, voice pitching and reaching unspeakable lows with the help of his quirk, relishing the drawn-out whine he received in response. Shouta’s hips canted of their own accord—and honestly, you couldn’t blame him. Your face was aflame, and you were a mere spectator. His breathing picked up to match his better half at the absolute filth filtering in his ears. Or was it expressions of admiration and praise? Aizawa couldn’t tell, he only knew it sounded like heaven, although he suspected the radio host’s words were straight from hell—pure sin. He fisted Yamada’s shirt to ground himself, knuckles turning white in the hideositie’s fabric. Now understanding those

‘eargasms’ the loud blonde was always raving about and claiming to get, especially with those new headphones of his.

“I keep telling you I don’t understand French.” Shouta grumbled, in a huffy mood over the sweet tunes his lover coaxed from him. He looked off to the side to hide his blush, retreating into his turtleneck, reminding you of a tortoise receding into its shell; in doing so, his eyes widened imperceptibly, though the way his pupils dilated, blowing wide as he finally became aware of your presence was unmissable. He drank in the object of his obsession with unquenchable appetence, having been denied the sight for far too long. Sustaining eye-contact, he let his head fall backwards onto the couch cushion, exposing his neck for Hizashi to devour; he pulled him closer so that their bodies were flush together before grinding up into the welcoming heat, a staccato of low sighs leaving him with each roll, earning an appreciative hum from the one ravishing his throat. Hizashi met him thrust for desperate thrust as he nipped and sucked the sensitive skin into blossoming hickeys. Aizawa wasn’t given long to admire as Hizashi recaptured his attention; sensing his distraction, he seized his chin so that they were once again facing one another, commanding his gaze like the diva he was. Shōta rolled his eyes, the corner of his lips twitching up into a smirk.

“There’s no need, baby! Not when I could just show you.” His words were smooth as silk and caused a delighted shiver to run up Aizawa’s spine, his toes curling at the deep velvety tone they were delivered in. Grabbing a handful of blonde tresses, he pulled the other down for an impassioned kiss; the effect was instantaneous, Hizashi squealed happily, groaning his approval against his spouse’s lips, a sweet little cry Shōta was all too pleased to swallow. A frisky kitty, and feeling particularly mischievous, he yanked. hard. So hard in fact you’d be surprised if the DJ’s neck hadn’t snapped. “ahhhHHHHH-!” The force behind the tug disconnected them and Yamada’s shout of ecstasy resounded throughout the entire apartment. The floor vibrated beneath your feet and your ears rang from the reverb. You clutched them, dropping to your knees in a vain attempt to block out the sound, and your eyes scrunched with the effort. You knew he had a set of pipes, but damn. You couldn’t even hear your own thoughts. Everything was shaking, your body hummed, and it felt like your brain was being scrambled. So focused on trying to tune him out, you failed to notice that the foundation had stopped quavering; but you caught on when you’d regained the ability to hear yourself think. Rising shakily, you allowed your arms to fall; looking back at the pair, you saw Aizawa with his hand around Yamada’s neck. “-eckk—!” The sound cut off at the hand gripping his throat “The neighbors are going to complain,” and it only tightened, eliciting a choked moan from Hizashi. “again.” With no small amount of effort did he raise his head in order to flash his man a cheeky smile, straining against the grip holding his hair back. “But I bet they know your name, handsome.” He reared forward, diving back in with a ferocity that knocked the erasure hero back, hailing him with a flurry of perfervid kisses and leaving a few blonde strands behind. Shōta received him with open arms, and you winced as you heard their teeth bash together in Hizashi’s voraciousness. It didn’t escape your notice how his voice had lost its cunning. His once honeyed words ebbed into hoarse calls of his partner’s name—lacking his usual loquacity.

For someone whose jobs centered on the use of his words, they seemed to be failing him; desperate strangled noises left him between each frenzied kiss. In his urgency, he tugged impatiently at Shouta’s bottoms, you shifted awkwardly, debating if it would best to try again at a different time. Aizawa caught your movement from the corner of his eye.

Although he didn’t mind an audience, he felt he should let his husband know.

Removing the hand from Hizashi’s neck, he used it to gently push him back, their kiss breaking with an audible smack—

“mmph!?”

Hizashi voiced his complaint, a whine built in the back of his throat as he once again tried to close the distance between them, blindly following his lips; Shōta dodged by holding a hand to the emcee’s face, stilling him. Yamada’s green eyes finally snapped open and he looked around in confusion.

“Wha???” He sounded so lost.

“Wha’s happenin’?”

Shōta’s head craned towards you.

“We’ve got company.”

Hizashi followed his line of sight and those emerald eyes landed on you. They were misty and he was still a bit disoriented; It took him a second to register but after blinking the tears away his face lit up with gladness, a gasp left him and his hands clasped his mouth. He shrilled in elation, bouncing excitedly on his husband’s lap. He shot to his feet, fighting the desire to rush over and squeeze the life out of you in an affectionate hug. The DJ waved exuberantly instead, “Hey, babygirl!” His voice was rough, a cough racking his frame before he continued, ”H-how are you?” He questioned softly, carefully, treading lightly, as if you’d scurry off if he so much as raised his voice or moved too quickly.

His face glowed from their gameplay turned hot and heavy. You knew better than to assume it was out of modesty because you had learned they held no shame. You recalled one morning where you’d awoken to tremors; the penthouse shook so violently you thought there was an earthquake. In your half-awakened state you’d panicked, ripped off your covers and sprinted into the living-room spouting about said earthquake, and you felt like you were in the Twilight Zone when Aizawa snorted into the back of his palm, snickering in amusement amidst your tirade, he’d looked as if he were battling laughter, his shoulders trembling. Hizashi rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly as he hurriedly explained there was nothing to be alarmed for. He’d just gotten a little carried away and—! Unable to contain himself, Shota had burst into peals of uncontrollable laughter as the hilarity of the situation finally became too much for him, something you’d never seen him do, you felt like you’d witnessed an anomaly. He seemed to shock even himself, his hands flying to his mouth, endeavoring to smother the traitorous noise to no avail, meanwhile Hizashi whined and hid his face in his husband’s shirt, said man wheezing and gasping for air, jostling him with each breath. It was then that you’d stopped to take in their position. You’d soured at the conclusion you’d come to, as obvious as a slap in the face. Having leveled them with a glare, you’d turned and stalked black to your room, throwing a dirty look over your shoulder for good measure. Howls of laughter and frenetic apologies for disrupting your sleep played you out. A dull thump followed by frightened calls of a certain raven-haired teacher’s name could be heard, mirth having overtaken him and effectively taken him down.

No Shame.

The radio star always wore his heart on his sleeve, a trait you’d initially found charming; meaning you could practically see him restraining himself; Hizashi’s fingers danced in antsiness, wanting so badly to reach out for you; the fidgety digits drew your attention and he promptly clasped them behind his back, offering a disarming smile when your eyes flitted back to his face.

“Hello, kitten. Did you need something?” He wasn’t as barefaced as his companion with his delight at your appearance, though both his expression and words were filled with warmth, the latter holding a tinge of innocence as if he hadn’t known you were there all the while.

You’d been a bit moody the last few days, never hostile, just a bit more withdrawn, and they were ever so happy to see you up and about again, they were always happy to see you.

Your eyes squint at him but your head tips forward a fraction in what could barely pass for a nod.

“Looks like we’re gonna hafta put our game on ice.” The DJ commented, looking over his shoulder to regard his partner whose gaze was fixed on his ass. You couldn’t see his face, but you could hear the grin in Hisashi’s voice, “Enjoyin’ the view?” Shōta scoffed, scowling up at his husband as he crossed his arms. “‘Just luck’, huh?” Now that the voice hero was standing, he had a perfect view of his backside, it’d virtually been shoved in his face when he’d stood; while he’d initially given it a cursory glance, miffed at having it block his field of vision like a freaking solar eclipse, with how tight his pants were, he could make out the familiar shapes jammed into his back pocket.

“What can I say? With this ass I’m always winning.” Hizashi winked, and quick to change the subject he turned back to you, tossing a few pawns from his pockets and into the discarded pile.

“What’cha need, beauty queen?”

Oh god, by some absolute fucking miracle, you’d managed to drag your tired body out of bed and stumble into the sitting area with the full intention of demanding supplies, only to freeze up from a pang of embarrassment under the inquisitive gaze they pinned you with, now the subject of poignant interest.

“I...I need—um...”

This isn’t in any way going how you envisioned it would; you’d mentally rehearsed, you were gonna waltz in here and demand that they—if they wouldn’t let you leave, the least they could do was ensure your basic needs were accounted for, and you had every mind to tell them such; unfortunately for you, all that came out were stammers and soft squeaks resemblant of the pet name they so loved calling you.

“Kitten?”

Aizawa stood to join his husband’s side, both of them hanging on your words, patiently awaiting a response.

“I n-need,” It was so much more embarrassing than you’d thought, but it wasn’t like you had anything to be shameful about; what you were experiencing was natural and normal, and you refused to be ashamed over it, if anything they were the ones who should be ashamed for not taking into account that at some point you were going to require certain essentials; their claim after they’d swept you away was that they were hgoing to see to your every need, just ask, and you’d receive—how you’d never have to worry about anything ever again. In the current state of affairs, you didn’t think they were doing a very good job.

You just wished you could find the nerve to voice such concerns.

“uh...” no longer able to maintain eye contact, you looked off towards of the kitchen; your skin prickled, your head was pounding, and you were overheating. You felt light on your feet and in this moment you just wanted the floor to swallow you up; if it were possible, you’d recant every past rejected wish to Saint Nick in exchange for a new one, a vanishing quirk. ‘Cause no way were they letting you walk away from this. Not after you’d garnered their attention. This was a mistake. You couldn’t do this. Maybe you should just—

“Pumpkin?” More gentle prodding. “What’s the matter? You ain’t lookin’ too hot.” (Harsh jab from Aizawa) “Ow! You know that’s not what I—”

“I mean you always look hot—smokin’!” He quickly rephrased, “It’s just uh...ya look kinda...sick? Like yer gonna hurl.”

“It’s okay, Kitten. You can ask us anything.”

“Yeah! Y’now you can come ta us with anything.”

“I-“ Your world spins, and suddenly, you’re seeing topside. A momentary loss of balance, courtesy of the headache between your eyes, has them rushing to your side; one of them scoops you into their arms, instantly coddling you. You look up to see frightened green eyes, and a halo of blonde tresses that tickled your nose as they fell into your face.

Oh. It was Hi-Fi.

“My poor baby! Are you okay?!” He’s peppering kisses all over your cheeks.

A hand presses against your temple, it’s coolness giving you moderate relief. “She’s warm,” Low-Fi.

“Pretty kitty, please let us know what you need; whatever it is, we’ll do our best to provide it.” Shouta cups the side of your face, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb and Hizashi places a kiss on your heated forehead.

“All’s ya gotta do is phone in that request, listener!”

You burned with more than just a temperature. Indignation coursed through your veins, burning you from the inside out. You shouldn’t have to rely on them for anything. You’d had your own job, your own money, your own business; you hadn’t had to lean on anyone, loathed the very thought of it; and climbing the sharp-edged ladder of success—clawing your way to the top, lacerated palms and displaced qualms, you’d made certain you’d never again have to depend on another soul for as long as you lived. Dull from being doled disappointments, you were of the gospel that you couldn’t count on anyone but yourself; you bought your own things, you felt your own tits, a certified boss ass bitch. When you’d first started seeing the couple, it was you that picked up the tab despite their protests, you who wooed them with fancy gifts, reveling in their flushed expressions—and as flattering as it all was, how could you ever come to rely on them the way the heroes wanted if you had it all figured out? Quickly enamored, the pair was swift to offer you a room in the penthouse, their hearts burned whenever you were apart; but to their dismay you’d declined; you already had your own home, one you’d worked hard to obtain, taken the time decorate, a home you were unwilling to part with; and truthfully, you simply hadn’t been ready for such a transition. Lovely as their companionship was and as much as you joyed in their attachment, you’d only been dating them a few months, it was a little too soon for all that. Of course they were disinclined to accept your answer. They chipped, and chipped, practically took a sledgehammer to that ladder, and marveled as you fell spectacularly, like an angel falling from heaven, their angel, who fell right into their arms. And you watched as the life you’d built, and tried so hard to maintain came tumbling down, everything you tried to salvage crumbled to dust in your resentful un-relinquishing grip, and of course they were there to help pick up the pieces. The metaphorical scars, and phantom pains rendered all for naught. You hated needing anyone for anything, and they wanted you to rely on them for everything. The thought embittered you, of giving them exactly what they wanted, and despite your pride you swallowed that bitter pill; after all, no one can fill those of your needs that you won’t let show right?

“I...I need feminine products?”

Hizashi’s brows knitted in befuddlement, and you could practically see the cogs turning in his brain as he processed your words, mentally cataloging every sanitary item he’d purchased.

You had a plethora of bath and beauty products, he’d made certain of it. Shampoo, conditioner, facial cleanser, perfume, shaving gel, body wash, etc. He’d ensured your bathroom was fully stocked. “Songbird, sweetie, yer gonna hafta be a bit more specific.”

Maybe you could say it without actually saying it.

“Um. You know, like, feminine hygiene products?” You stressed, hoping they’d catch your drift, but they continued giving you blank stares.

The pair exchange a look, perhaps to see if the other was making any more sense of the situation than they were.

“You’re going to need to be frank with us, kitten.”

“Yeah! Rip it off, like a bandaid!”

“Ineedpadstampons,femininewipes,femininewash,andmaybeadouche?” Your face was on fire but it was impossible for them to misconstrue with how painfully candid you were. Stealing a glance, you saw they both sported similar blushes; Hizashi held a pink tinge around his nose that bled into his cheeks and Shōta adopted a rosy tint; their coloring more out of shame than embarrassment due to their oversight.

In a race to rectify their mistake, their voices overlapped, tripping over themselves to scramble for apologies.

“Oh my gosh, we’re so sorry, princess!”

“We’re very sorry, kitten. It was never our intention to-”

“-we’ll do better! Me ‘n Shou’ll be better about takin’ care-a you-!”

“-we hadn’t even considered—”

“-I promise! I swear—!”

“-just let us know what you need, just tell us and we’ll—”

“-Yes! Anything, anything at all-!”

You already did.

“-It won’t happen again, kitten. We promise—”

“-Oh god, I’m a fuckin’ failuuuuuuure.” Hizashi bemoans, having been the one in charge of your toiletries.

Their remorse was palpable and their guilt endless.

Although you shouldn’t, you were starting to feel bad for how much they were kicking themselves. Their self-flagellation was seriously taking the wind out of your sails; your own frustration paling in comparison. Not to mention you were still under the weather, and their constant back and forth was worsening your dizzy spell. Eagle eyed, Aizawa takes notice and undergoes the task of reigning in his husband, the blonde pressing impossibly close and nuzzling desperately into your neck, apology after apology spilling from his lips. Shōta grasps his shoulder, but to his surprise you beat him to it.

Your head inclined and a hand covered his mouth, halting his speech. The pain behind your eyes praised you. “Hizashi, you guys, it’s not that deep, stop being so dramatic.” He pulled back to appraise you, he didn’t seem convinced. “...I forgive you, okay?”

He lit up like a Christmas tree, perking up instantly. You were squished against his chest once more in a suffocating hug. A joyous shout of, ‘FUCK YEAH!’ had you cringing away from Hizashi as he fist pumped ecstatically.

“Not so loud, ‘Zashi.” Came a gentle reproof, resulting in another apology from the boisterous blonde.

“Sorry, lil listener.”

...

“Do you..uh...need ‘em right now?”

You nod.

“Cool! Cool! No problem-o! Uh...Just run that list by us again. Hit us one more time, baby!”

“You said it so quickly we hardly caught what was said.”

Heat rushed to your face. You couldn’t fucking do it again. The first time just about killed you.

They must have sensed your demur because the pros upped their persuasion.

“You don’t have to be so shy, kitten. We don’t mind. It’s really no trouble.”

“You don’t gotta get embarrassed, it’s only us!”

“We only want to provide for you.”

“Most guys don’t wanna hear about that stuff...” You were pretty sure they didn’t even know what those things looked like.

“Um, songbird? W-we aren’t, uh, it don’t bother us. Like, we aren’t grossed out or nothin’.” Usually loud and lively, Hizashi was soft-spoken and sincere as he gently clasped your cheeks, encouraging you to look him in the eyes. Taking your smaller hands in his own, Shōta pitches in as well.

“We can handle a little blood, it’s sort of unavoidable in our profession.”

When you’re stubbornly tight-lipped, the emcee proposes a different idea.

“K! How ‘bout you type out whatcha need in Shō’s phone? That way we’ll have a list to check off, make sure we don’t forget anything.” He looks to his partner to see if he’s down with the plan and Shōta’s already pulling out his mobile. “One of us should stay behind with kitten. That could have been a nasty fall.”

“Shō! Hold KitKat,” It’s an abbreviation of ‘kitty cat’ one of Hizashi’s many nicknames for you. “I gotta hit up Google.”

You’re carefully transferred to Aizawa; the hero plops into the couch with you in tow, sagging into the cushiony oasis. Once you’re settled in his lap, he hands you his phone; It’s new, sleek, black and already opened to the notes app; a bulletin greets you, the yellow bar blinking in and out of existence as it awaits your command.

“So which one-a us is headin’ out? We could all go, could do a pickup order?”

Any other time you would’ve jumped at the opportunity. But you felt like absolute trash. You weren’t interested in going anywhere but back to bed.

“I’ll go. I have a few things to grab anyways.” Figures. The erasure hero was even keener on keeping you indoors than his husband.

“Anything we need for the house? I might as well get them while I’m out.”

“Oh! Now that‘cha mention’ it, I could use some-” There’s a back and forth as they discourse on what supplies and groceries are low on stock, ingredients and meal planning for the following week; their chatter is drowned out whilst you busy yourself inputting the necessities you need into the phone with nimble fingers, tapping away at the large screen and carrying a certain finesse that impresses Shōta, the type of guy that just lazily swipes his thumb across the keyboard. He urged you closer with a delicate motion, complimenting your dexterity and gracing you with a chaste peck on the cheek. They ask your opinion on numerous things, how you felt about particular dishes, if you were running out of anything, if you wanted Shōta to bring you back something, et cetera. Satisfied with your list, you handed the device back to its owner for him to pocket. “-babe, you already know munchkin hates carrots.” Hizashi chided, rooting through the cabinets and taking inventory.

“He needs a vegetable, you can’t allow him to eat junk all of the time. He’d live off of pizza rolls if you let him.”

“Hey!” He whirls around, “My meals are perfectly balanced! An’ comin’ from you?! Do you even know how much sugar we go through?? Not to mention the coffee I’m constantly havin’ to restock??”

Aizawa cuts his eyes at him. “This isn’t about me.” He reaches forward and nabs his mug from the table, taking you with him and taking a very long, very loud obnoxious sip. Hizashi just looks so done at the display. He chases it down with a marshmallow and slaps the ceramic against the glass once he’s finished. “My diet is perfectly healthy.”

“Mmhmm,” the emcee crossed his arms, leaning against the counter, “are you done?”

You’re jostled again as he pushes the mug forward. “This needs more sugar.”

Yamada sighs, coming to swipe it from the coffee table. And as he’s heading back to the kitchen, Shōta adds, “More whipped cream and marshmallows too.” A dramatic groan of, “Ughhhhhhhhh! I hate it here!” is given in response. You sit in silent amusement at their banter, enjoying the homey atmosphere.

Aizawa observes as you become increasingly agitated, squirming and fidgeting in fits and starts, restless. Quiet huffs accompanying each jerk. “Is something the matter, kitten?” “Uh...it’s-” You shift, and he isn’t sure if it’s bashfulness or something different. “It’s just cramps.”

“Tummy troubles?”

“Aw, d’ya want some Tums? Pepto Bismol?” Mic asks, carrying a plate of cookies. They’re placed on the table and Shouta’s mug is returned to its coaster. You lean forward, reaching for one of the confections. The aroma had teased you since the moment you’d left your room, titillating your tastebuds. Hizashi looks confused-concerned, when you grimace and fold into yourself, nursing your midsection. Not touching, only hovering protectively; your pelvis had protested the movement, making its disapproval known by way of stabbing pains.

“Noooo,” Your response was moaned, a lamentable sound that pierced their hearts. “not stomach pain, menstrual cramps.”

“Oh.” Their eyes leapt toward one another, sharing a panicked glance. “Well, we...might have some Tylenol?” Shōta’s words were optimistic though his tone was laced with uncertainty; he looked to his husband for confirmation. “Would that be okay?”

“Yeah! Uh...maybe? I dunno.” While his reply had started enthusiastically, a hype man at his core, he quickly lost confidence. It bled into hesitancy near the end. “I’m sure we got some though, lemme go check!” He raved, keeping the faith.

“Cutie ‘tootie?” There’s light rhythmic tapping at your knee. Mic squats beside you, his palm upturned as he presents you with a cookie. You gladly accept, thanking him. After administering a loving pat on the head he’s standing and off in search of pain relievers.

Suffice to say, you made quick work of the treat.

Shō was pleasantly surprised when you fastened his arms around your waist, wearing them like a seatbelt. You secured one of them in place with your own arm, as if he’d ever withhold his touch from you. You slipped your fingers between his, intertwining them together. He allowed you to do so, to manipulate him however you saw fit, willing and pliable under your ministrations. He flexed them, wondering at the sight, and sensation of his hands in yours. There’s a dusting of rouge to his cheek as he squeezes back.

——————————

“What did you find?” The erasure hero asked, drowsily watching his other half pace to and fro, Hizashi’s faced glued to his phone.

“Says it’s okay, how many ya want, honey bunch? One or two?”

“None.”

They glance at you as you’re quite adamant about not needing pills, and Shota begs to differ. The death grip on his hand spoke otherwise. And he thinks, as you clamp down on him after another contraction, that he knows what it’s like to be a husband in a delivery room. Something he never thought he’d experience. He isn’t complaining, anything to help ease your discomfort; he’d offered reassuring presses of his own, but he’d be lying if he said he understood your opposition.

“But-!” Hizashi looks put out, disappointed. “Dont’cha want somethin’ to take the edge off?”

Your head shakes negatively, and he frowns. He goes to insist but he gets one from his husband as well. He sighs, snagging a set of keys from the rack.

You’re honestly surprised they let it go so easily, they never let things go. In hindsight, you supposed you should’ve been a bit more suspicious, but you’re just glad they dropped the subject. You didn’t feel like fighting them on it.

“I’ll go warm up the ride, you warm up with princess before ya jet!” He leans down, and Shōta meets him halfway as they share a kiss. “‘Kay caffeine king?”

“Mmm.” He hums an affirmative, burrowing further into the couch, enjoying the heat you donate as you too make yourself comfortable by cuddling into his chest. His eyes close, and there’s a click indicating the blonde’s departure.

You sat for a bit, listening to his steady breaths, the lull of his heartbeat, rocked by the gentle rise and fall of his chest. You twist around to view him, and he cracks an eye open to regard you when you stir. You spend a good chunk of time simply taking him in, with him doing the same, and you aren’t sure whether it’s the lighting, music, the complicated feelings you can’t suppress—because as angry and frustrated as you are, you still care for them, terribly so, or perhaps it’s the cloying sap you tended to become around this time of month, but you find yourself extending a hand to brush his bang aside, revealing that handsome face you’d grown so fond of. You wished he’d show it more often; it was too cute to be hidden under all that fringe, and you tell him so.

“I like being able to see your face,” Deft fingers card through his hair, and using both you fashion the fluffy mane into a faux bun, “I’d love to see it more often. You should wear it up every once and awhile.”

His lidded eyes are wide on yours, a blush quickly blooming, and suffusing to his ears, cute little things you rarely ever see.

“Means I’d get to praise that pretty puss,” Shouta’s pupils are dilated, and you swear they’re expanding with each compliment as he basks in your hero-worship.

“and it means I get to do this!”

You smooch his forehead, another thing you’re usually unable to view. Like before, the erasure hero withdraws into his sweater, muttering a low, “Thanks, kitten...” His delivery is soft and tender, one of those diminutive winning smiles tugging at his cheeks. He’d always been so fun to tease, responsive and susceptible unlike his blonde counterpart, whose life’s mission was to see you self-implode. “You look so pretty in pink, sweet prince.” It was nice to flip the script now and then.

His dietary habits a sore point of contention, he grumbled, shaking his head so that his hair fell into his face once more, hiding his deepening flush from scrutiny. You toss it up again.

“There’s that cute face!” You coo, smiling broadly. Aizawa slouches even further into the couch, burrowing deeper into the cottony collar of his pullover. “Aww, cutie!zawa!” A thumb caresses his face, just below his eye where his scar lies, and ever so gently do you inch forward, and with as much care as you can muster, you kiss him, your lips meet the mark in a delicate press. But It wasn’t a blemish, it was the testimony of his survival. It did nothing to detract from his rugged beauty; in your opinion it only enhanced it. “This is your cutie mark!” You excitedly declared. You’re struck with the realization that if it hadn’t been for his tenacity, his strength, there’s a genuine possibility he wouldn’t be here with you now. Overcome with emotion, you crush him in a firm embrace, dolling adulation after adulation.

“You’re so strong.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

And despite everything,

“I’m so happy I was able to meet you. You and ‘Zashi.

“You guys...mean a lot to me.”

Weak, Shouta quivers in your hold; his Adam’s apple bobbed as he floundered helplessly to form an articulate response. His heart swelled with adoration, and he squeezed back just as tightly. Your sweet words were sending him, and having been left without your touch for a spell has him starved for your affections. “Can-” Your head raises at the wobbled utterance, and he connects your forehead with his, just barely able to restrain himself. His pupils are pulsing as he looks into your eyes—dilating back and forth, his gaze downright imploring. “May I kiss you?” An unspoken plea hung from his lips, and his words carried a noticeable tremble, showing just how affected he was. He eyed you with a reverence the likes you’ve never seen. You’re taken aback. Your breath falters, and you know it isn’t a platonic kiss he’s asking for. Anxious, your teeth worry at your bottom lip as you contemplated, those onyx pools track the movement, lingering perhaps a bit too long before his eyes met yours. He swallows thickly, “Please...?” He’s practically begging at this point. And to convey it he took your hand in his, guiding it to his throat where you felt palpitations dance wildly beneath your fingertips, showing you just what you did to him. He looked so vulnerable, so in need.

And he’s heartbroken when you pull away, withdrawing your warmth, and leaving him cold. “Kitten—” Shouta’s voice cracks, it’s a question, a plea, an extension of something that had been boiling beneath the surface, and it’s been a long time coming. He felt as if he’d endured an eternity without your loving-kindness, and after what felt like a lifetime were you finally sweetening back up to him, and bestowing the passion he’d pined for, the affection he and Hizashi panted after. You’d been so distant since they’d brought you home, and his heavy heart was breaking. Were you-were you upset with them?

You aren’t sure you’re comfortable with such an intimate gesture. Most of your days were spent in a domestic daydream, and while it was easy to fall into the illusion, playing house, and palling around, without fail, something always happened to shatter it, reminding you of the reality of your situation. In this case, needing items and being unable to go out and purchase them. Ordinarily, you have no issue with having whatever you required brought to you; you couldn’t say you were choked up over not having to endure crowded stores, and checkout lines that moved slower than molasses, but you preferred to buy those products yourself. It was so demoralizing to have to go up to them, like a child, and bring up your needs. The pair always gave your orders a once over, ensuring you weren’t ‘purchasing anything naughty’ ‘nothing you could get yourself into trouble with’ It felt like you couldn’t do anything without the heroes knowing about it. You probably couldn’t even pass a stool in this house without them knowing about it. And you just—didn’t think it was...healthy to feed into their delusions, you didn’t want them to think you were okay with what they’d done, and you weren’t sure where your relationship stood with them anymore, but like a fool you still had a soft spot for them, they’d long since carved a special spot for themselves in your heart, and because of that, you couldn’t stand watching his break in front of you.

Against your better judgement you cradle his face in your palm, he shivers and is instantly nestling into the soft touch, slumping forward to press himself even closer, singing low in his throat when your lips join, it’s hardly discernible, yet the vibration is unmistakable as he pulls you close, clutching your sides; uncontrolled moans were plucked from him with each candy-coated kiss you awarded. And all too soon were you drawing away to rest your forehead against his.

“Kitten, again.”

“Kiss me again.”

“Please?”

He made no move to initiate, only wishing, hoping, waiting, on you—for your reply. And, a purr rumbled from deep within his chest when you indulged him.

Hizashi bursts into the apartment eager to escape the cold and is greeted by his loving husband, whose hair is tousled, and in an even worse state of disarray than usual, which he finds kinda strange since it certainly hadn’t been that way previous to him leavin’ out. And stranger yet, a small saccharine smile played on the erasure hero’s lips. He looks between the two of you and internally gushes over the pretty picture you both painted; you cuddlin’ up on Shou, mussy hair...

Wait a minute.

Hizashi’s giddy squeal cuts out like a record scratch when he comes across the now empty plate.

“You guys...”

Neither of you even has the decency to look contrite.

“They were good, you’ve really outdone yourself.”

“I get sugar cravings around this time, they were amazing though.”

Compliments were the way to his heart, and was all it took for him to forget his disapproval and become starry-eyed, gasping a cute, “Really?”

“Yeah! You did awesome, Awesomeasaurus!”

“Aww, thank you, suga’pie! Though I gotta feelin’ that wasn’t the only sugar you were smackin’ on.” Mic teased, a knowing grin with too many teeth splitting across his face, and this time you do become abashed as Aizawa grinned right back like a cheshire cat.

They chuckle among themselves as the host with the most lifts you from Shouta’s lap with all the care of a mother tending to her newborn; he swoops in to steal a kiss, amused by the scandalized expression you pull. “Shouta can’t be the only one gettin’ kisses!” He nabs a couple more, stopping only when you tuck to the side to escape the barrage. “If he’s gettin’ kisses, then I’m gettin’ kisses.” He proclaimed, easing you down onto the cushions still warmed from the erasure hero’s body heat.

“Your chariot awaits, Prince of Slumberland.” A pair of keys are dropped into his hand, and his shoulder is bumped affectionately. Hizashi follows Shouta to the door, helping him into his jacket. The latter melts into the hug he’s given, and with a smack to the derrière, he’s sent off. Yamada is halfway across the foyer when he stops, looking as if he’d forgotten something; he spazzes, swinging back around, “WAIT!” He shouts, attracting the attention of Shota who was partially out the door. “Wait, wait, wait, wait,” He jogged up to his lover with a smile, “I forgot my goodbye kiss!” Shota’s face is cradled in his palms as he kisses his hubby on the lips. “You be safe, honey butter biscuit.” The home-room teacher smiles softly, covering Hizashi’s hands with his, “I will. Promise.” The kiss is returned, equally as doting; Aizawa gently removes his lover’s hands, pressing a kiss to the knuckle of each one before returning them. He’s starting out of the door again when another call for him to stop rings out. Shōta turns, wondering what he could possibly want this time. He wants to protest as his spouse lifts you, their darling shouldn’t be manipulated right now, even if she was handled with extreme care. Hizashi makes a short walk of the distance and is already presenting you to him, his husband’s beam is even brighter than before. “Can’t leave out, sugar snap pea!” Shota leans forward, and watches as you elevate your neck for what you thought he had in store; well, he has to keep you on your toes doesn’t he? He administers the endearment lower than anticipated, bestowing you a smooch on the lips as he’d done with Hizashi. He chuckles as you gingerly touch the spot, looking up at him owlishly. Cute. It’s a sentiment Hizashi echoes, although verbally. He adds another to your forehead, leaning over you to kiss the radio star one last goodbye.

—————————————

“Alright! Let’s get some food in ya, ginger spice!” Mic exclaimed, striding into the kitchen. His baby needed some grub and a few good snugs! He sits you on the island and his hands are a whirlwind of motion as he ransacked the cabinets, grabbing all the goodies he could find. And when he turns to face you he’s supporting an armful of mixed munches, an abundant assortment of eats. His neck is folded to house a packet of candy and there’s a bag of chips clenched between his teeth. “Vish should vast ‘til Shou gets home, vwatcha fink?” His goofy appearance and impeded speech is enough to have you cracking up. His smile radiated pride as he passed along the treats, “Can ya hold these for me, Sweet?” Arms full, you’re hoisted up and the radio star throws you a wink, “I already got a snack to carry.”

Upon entering the living area he lowers you, and the array is dumped on the table, it’s surface completely engulfed and no longer visible. It’s laid out like a food fanatic’s fantasy.

“C’mon, lil mama! Come cuddle with me!” Mic dove onto the couch, arms splayed open wide, making grabby motions towards you with his hands, his legs parting in invitation.

———————————

The drone of the television did little to distract you as the blonde had hoped, you were writhing in pain; your cramps had worsened as the night had progressed, increasing in both frequency and intensity, and all he could do was you hold you. Hizashi hugs you to his chest, providing snuggles. It’s unconscious on his part, but he’s squeezing you like a human-sized stress ball. All he can focus on is you, your pain, your misery, how useless he felt.

What does he do?

What could he do?

And as his thoughts begin to spiral he doesn’t even notice his grasp constricting, tightening and tightening until you yelp. The pressure is removed instantaneously.

“Ah! Sorry, songbird. Is your tummy tender?”

You and Mic resume cuddling without further incident, his grip tightens with each pained whimper, but never reaches the same intensity as before, both in an attempt to offer comfort and to assuage his own worry. Seeing his princess in pain was seriously throwing him off his game. And him not being able to do anything about it? He buzzed with nervous energy. His knee bounced anxiously, where the hell was Shō?! Another anguished groan and Hizashi answered with his own anxious whine,

“Do-do ya need anything? Are ya—ya sure you don’t want any pain meds?”

You’d snubbed any offers of pain relievers much to their disappointment and ever growing disquiet.

Okay, he’d admit that it was kind of precious how you always refused to take medication of any kind, the same way a child might, but you wouldn’t even go for the flavored stuff! If you wouldn’t do it for your sake he wished you’d at least do it for his. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take of seeing you like this; with each passing second he grew all the more fretful and evermore fidgety.

To his immense relief you end up asking for a heating pad, they have one surprisingly, hero work comes with its aches and pains! Sure their closest was a mess and Shōta was sure to get on him about it later but it was for their darling! A trashed closet was a small price to pay for their beloved’s comfort. The voice hero was so amped up to finally be of assistance that he nearly ate carpet twice in his haste to get what you’d requested. After very gently maneuvering you, he’d shot off towards their shared bedroom at break-neck speed. A shout of, “Don’t touch that dial!” Thrown over his shoulder.

From your spot on the couch, you heard the sounds of him tearing up the room, exaggerated groans and a victorious crow at his acquirement; and when he’d returned, he presented his prize proudly, like an energetic puppy craving praise. “Who d’ya love cuddle-bug?!” If he had a tail it’d be wagging. “Thanks, snug monster. I really appreciate it...” Your eyelids and tone are weighed heavily from the pain, it left you drowsy, with slowed movements, but you manage to smile up at him, and Hizashi thrills as he’s rewarded with a smooch. He’s tickled pink, and can’t even begin to hide the blush he’s sporting, he doesn’t even try. “Aw, ya know it ain’t no thang! Anything for you, cutie.” You stretch to get your fingers on the pad, eager for relief, however the blonde keeps it out of reach, an unidentifiable emotion twisting his features, his expression an odd mix of stress and desperation, panic flickering in his eyes. “No, let me! ...Lemme help you. Where do you need it?” You’re re-situated on his lap, and he gingerly flattens the pad against your lower abdomen; the soothing heat acted as a balm, loosening your tense muscles; you sigh, leaning into the sensation, covering his hand with yours to urge him closer. “That’s it, mama. Just let me take care of you.” You can’t help the gratified moan that slips past your lips, the warmth doing wonders for you, and Hizashi could see the tension fading from your body. “Feelin’ good?” He’s given a nod in response as you relax into him. The DJ releases a relieved breath of his own, finding solace in your improved condition. His rigid posture slackens. He lays his head atop yours, heaving another weary sigh, his nerves overstrung. “Daddy’s happy to hear it, baby...”

[evanescentreverie]

Perform (SVT Hoshi)

I love it when you perform

The first time you saw him was on stage, his whole being poured into his dancing. The way he moved his feet to the beat, the way his arms never missed the perfect angles they needed to be in but most importantly, you saw how much he poured his emotions into dancing. For you, it was absolutely ethereal and you felt lucky to even be standing on the same stage as he.

You knew at that moment, you fell in love with his passion.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I really admire Hoshi from Seventeen. I just really enjoy it when I see him dance."

You watched yourself as you muttered those words. You saw how your cheeks turned a slight pink, how your fellow members told the interviewer the things that you would rather keep to yourself. You saw how you turned into a bashful girl in front of the camera, shying away from the spotlight.

"Is there anything you'd like to say to Hoshi?" The emcee had asked you. You cringed when you saw how nervous you were being.

You remembered taking a deep breath before answering, "Hoshi-sunbaenim, I really hope you continue to dance your heart out because you inspire me, as well as the others, to do what they desire to do." You gave a small smile at the end as you bowed, waving at the camera once you stood up straight.

You threw your phone on your bed as you felt your cheeks heat up, heart pounding in your chest, "Oh gosh, what if he sees this?"

You walk towards your bed, jumping in it and taking your phone to scroll in Twitter. Immediately, you saw that Hoshi was trending and you somehow had a feeling as to why. You sighed before shutting it off, reminding yourself that it wasn't wise to look at the tweets. Realizing you weren't going to be able to sleep, you stood up from your bed and headed towards the door, ready for another night of polishing your dancing skills.

"Let's just hope he doesn't see that."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Thank you so much for your love and support Carats! Horanghae!"

You couldn't believe your eyes, your inspiration was right in front of you and within arm's reach. You were sure that your eyes were starry, admiration clearly showed on your face. You were happy for them, you were happy that they have won. Their song was something you listened to multiple times a day, even going as far as learning the dance (Hoshi's part of course). So, to see him right in front of you, close to doing an encore, was something unbelievable.

The groups on the stage slowly dispersed, allowing Seventeen to perform fully on stage. As you passed by them, you took a glance at Hoshi, only to see that he was already looking at you. Your cheeks flushed as you bowed respectfully, Hoshi bowing in return as he smiled his signature smile at you.

He was the first to look away as you exited the stage. You felt dizzy, feeling as if the scene in front of you was unreal. You held your cheeks, fanning yourself to cool down your face. You saw your members worrying about you, causing you to smile and wave off their concern.

You walked to the bathroom, thankful that it was empty as you took a moment to calm yourself. 'That was too much.' You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath before looking at the mirror. You couldn't stop your smile, heart feeling giddy as you remembered the interaction. 'I can't believe Hoshi looked at me.' You giggled to yourself. You swore that if people were to look at you right now, they would believe that you were going crazy. Maybe you were but that only meant you were extremely happy.

Once you were sure that you were calm, you exited the bathroom. What greeted you as you did, however, was the very person that caused your pounding heart.

Your eyes widened as he approached you, waving at you with a smile on his face. You froze on spot, unknowing of what to do in this situation. Do you wave? Do you smile? Do you greet him? Your thoughts ran a hundred miles per hour, mind malfunctioning at the very sight of him approaching you. He stood near you, his smile never leaving as he reached out his hands, a signal for you to shake it.

"Nice to meet you! I'm Hoshi!" You looked at his hands, clenching your fist as it was feeling very clammy. You wiped the sweat off of your hands as you nervously reached out for his hands.

"Hoshi-sunbaenim! It's... It's a p-pleasure." You mentally kicked yourself for stuttering, cheeks feeling red as you removed your hold from his.

He chuckled at your form, "I saw your video and I really want to say that I appreciate your words. It really meant a lot to us as a group but most importantly, me as a dancer." He looked at your eyes, a small genuine smile present on his lips. "So, thank you."

You felt your brain shut down at the sight of his smile. You could hear your heart loudly pounding against your chest, your stomach feeling a sense of anxiousness.

"I-I-I..." You looked down, hands fiddling with the hem of your skirt. "Thank you for inspiring me, Hoshi-sunbaenim."

You heard him chuckle, "You know, you're not a bad dancer yourself. You're the main dancer of your group right?"

You could only nod, mouth unable to form any words.

"I can definitely see why. You have this aura when you dance that mesmerizes the viewer." You gaped at him, mind not believing his praise. You felt your whole body fill with happiness, the sudden praise serving as a newfound passion in you.

You gave him a bright smile, eyes teary from the surge of emotions. "To hear that from you," You paused as you pursed your lip, trying to contain the amount of happiness that resides in you. "It really means a lot to me Hoshi-sunbaenim."

The conversation stopped as Hoshi stared at you, causing you to feel a sense a feeling of self-consciousness. Seeing this, Hoshi's grin returned, "Hey! we should hang out sometime! You know, to give you a couple of pointers."

It was then that your brain short-circuited, cheeks warming at his sudden invitation. You could only stare at him in shock as he waited for an answer. A few minutes passed and Hoshi's expression switched to that of concern, waving his hands in front of you.

"(Y/n)?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I like you (Y/n)."

Very rarely does Hoshi's expression turns serious and right now was one of those moments. At first, you thought that he was joking, seeing as you were closer now than before. You could even consider each other as best friends so seeing him confess to you was something that you didn't expect any more. Sure you had a crush on him the first few times you met but you realized that the friendship the two of you had was priceless and quickly brushed the feelings aside.

"What?" You gaped at his statement, still finding his sudden confession hard to believe.

"I like you, (Y/n). I have been liking you for a while now." He looked away, "It's okay if you don't like me back but know that I do."

Your heart pounded against your chest, lips pursed as you thought of a reply. The more you think about it, the more you didn't have to. You smiled as you held his cheeks, forcing him to look at you directly.

"You idiot," You gave him a warm smile, "but you're my idiot. I like you too."

You saw how his face slowly changed into a happy one, maybe even going as far as elated. "You do?!" His whole being exuded happiness, from his shaking shoulders to his large grin, you knew he was extremely happy.

You laughed at the change in his demeanor, admiring the way he releases his happiness "I do. I like you more than you know."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"You will break up with him or there will be consequences."

You remembered the CEO's words as she yelled at you, demanding you to remove Hoshi from your life. She had found out from an unknown photographer that send pictures of the two of you strolling on a late-night once.

Your lips quivered at the thought of leaving him but you had to. You still had a lot to do, a lot to show, and a lot of promises to keep.

There was also the fact that he had so much more to lose than you. So you had to leave him, to keep the both of you safe.

You allowed yourself to cry, feeling as if you had to be strong in front of him. "I'm sorry, Soonyoung."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I'm tired of this. Let's break up."

Often, you wonder about a life different than what you have. If things would have turned out differently. If the two of you had very different jobs and if you two weren't bound by a contract.

You stared at him as he cried, cried as you held it desperately inside of you. You didn't have the right to cry with him, you didn't have the right to show how absolutely devastated you were. You kept your face stoic and your eyes cold, expression void of any sort of emotions.

You rarely saw him like this. In fact, it was the first time you saw him weep like this. He held your hand tightly as he kneeled in front of you, head buried in your palms as he begged for you to stay. Your heart broke at the sounds of his cries, used to hearing his melodic laugh.

"Let's talk this through, okay? Please," He looked up at you and it took every willpower you've got to hold back your emotions. "I need you, (Y/n)." His voice broke at every word as tears spilled from his eyes. You removed your hands from his hold as you took a deep breath.

"There's nothing to talk about. I just don't love you anymore." You heard him sob as you felt your heart drop. With one more glare, you spoke once more. "Don't call me, Don't contact me. Just... leave me alone."

With that, you walked away, the tears you've been holding back finally letting themself drop. You held in a sob before entering a taxi. The moment you've entered, you choked out a sob, your emotions spilling as you failed to hold it in. You hid your face in your hands as you sobbed, your body trembling at the overwhelming sadness you felt.

'I'm sorry it had to turn out this way.'

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The crowd buzzed as you look for your seat with your friend. You hid your face as much as you could, not wanting to be recognized by this large crowd. It would cause a lot of controversies, after all.

"Um," You lowered your mask as you tapped the shoulder of your friend beside you, the girl immediately turning to you.

"Yes?"

You gave her a sheepish smile, "Do you mind if you bring my album with you for them to sign?"

She glanced at you with a confused expression, "Why? Do you not want to meet them?"

"I do but with what happened, I'm not sure I have the courage to do so." You chuckled sadly. She gave you a knowing look before nodding, "Alright, give me your album and I promise to return it after."

You shot her a grateful smile, "Thank you so much."

She smiled before nodding, standing up to get in line. You raised your mask back to its original place and watched as she waited, the line moving at a steady pace. You watched as she approached each member before finally reaching him. Your heart beat nervously, wondering what his reaction would be.

I love it when you perform

You saw how his eyes widened, how his head shot up immediately to look at the person in front of him. You saw how his expression saddened when he realized it wasn't you. You saw him look around the crowd, making you alert of his scanning.

You lowered your hat in order to avoid being seen, biting your lips in anxiety. You counted a few seconds before returning your gaze towards him, smiling sadly when you see his visible disappointment.  You knew that you had made the right choice and you knew in your heart that things were better this way.

He returned his attention back at the album, a bittersweet smile now placed on his lips. You watched as he wrote something before handing back the album. As your friend reached the final member, she walked towards you and handed your album back.

You once again muttered your thanks, smiling as she told you it was nothing. You opened the album, turning to the page. You held your breath as you read the message, holding back your tears as you did.

I love it more when you cheer me on, (Y/n).

Your heart ached the more you saw it, your hands tracing the familiar handwriting. You slowly looked back at his form, a sad smile now etched into your face. A few minutes later, you stood up from your seat and left, muttering your silent goodbye.

"I really love it when you perform, Soonyoung."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[justthehiddleswrites]

Nothing Holding Me Back | Tom Hiddleston x Reader | Part One

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary:  Tom and the reader have been dating for some time. The reader is dying to take this relationship to the next level but Tom is hesitating. So the reader takes things into her own hands and sets up a date night that will certainly light up Tom’s fire.

Warnings: none for this chapter.

-

You and Tom had been dating for about a month but nothing serious. Everything had been very low-key with no expectations but you were getting antsy for Tom to make a move. Your last three dates had all been lovely. There had been fancy dinners, long walks, holding hands and chaste kisses goodnight. And Tom had been a perfect gentleman. Which was part of your frustration. You were craving something with a little more heat and….well….sex.

So with the help of Luke (who was completely supportive by the way), you had arranged this little date night. Luke had been kind of enough to cancel the dinner reservations Tom had made. Instead, he suggested a few ideas to add some excitement to the evening. Tom was hesitant at the last minute change of plans.

“Darling, you know I don’t like surprises,” he protested when you called the morning of to break the news.

“Tom, I promise you will have a good time. And if for any reason you feel uncomfortable, you can pull the plug and we will go,” you assure him.

After about 15 minutes of cajoling, he agreed to the mystery date as he had taken to calling it. But it was clear he was not convinced.

“Only for you. But I am not pleased with this arrangement. I will be keeping you on a short leash.”

You smile into the phone and can’t stop yourself from responding, “Oh, Tom, I never thought you would ask.”

You start giggling and Tom laughed, regretting the comment. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. And I didn’t know you had it in you,” you retorted not letting up for one minute.

Tom cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I will pick you up at 6.”

“I will be ready.” And with that you hung up, leaving Tom anxious about what was going to happen that night.

Tom’s anxiety melted away when you emerged from your home a few minutes after six and a sense of lust replaced it. You could not hide your smile when you saw his eyes widen and him swallowing hard when he saw your outfit.

You had picked out a form fitting dress that showed off your body. The low cut neckline of the dress showed a tasteful amount of cleavage and the hemline skimmed your thighs. Your legs looked miles long thanks to five inch heels.

“You look ravishing,” he stumbled over his words and he snaked his arm around your waist to pull you in for a kiss.

He kissed you deeply. His scruff scratching against your cheek as he continued to kiss you. You could feel the heat radiating off his body through his button down shirt. You could feel heat building up in your core and a dampening in your panties. You would have loved nothing more than to grip him by the lapels of his coat and yank him into your house. And then have your way with him all night but where was the fun in that? You wanted to torture him a bit. All is fair in love and war, right? You pull away.

“Thank you, you don’t look too shabby yourself.”

You step back and take in the tall drink of water Tom is. His curly ginger locks tousled from your embrace and his skin slightly flushed. You take his hand and lead him to the car.

“Come on, we don’t want to be late.”

Tom breaks out into a huge smile as the door shuts behind the two of you. You started the night with food truck tacos. The food was tasty, decadent and sloppy. Tom managed to get sauce on his coat. Upon getting back into the car for the second destination, he quickly shed his jacket.

As he leaned forward to pull his arms out, his face comes within inches of your ample cleavage. You decide to tease him a bit. You stretch your arms up which moves your chest that much closer. You see his cheeks flush and his eye widen for the second time that night. Hopefully, not the last.

“Why Tom, I never thought you the type to strip for me,” you commented as he leans back, shifting in his seat next to you.

Desired effect achieved.

Tom, becoming wise to your plans, leaned over to whisper in your year.

“Only for you, darling. And the night is still young,” he used his “Loki” voice. The one that makes you puddle.

His velvety voice causes you to shuddered and now it was Tom’s turn to smirk in satisfaction. The rest of the evening was going to be a game of the two of you seeing how awkward and aroused you could make the other.

The next stop after tacos had been karaoke. The air in the bar was thick with the smell of decades of smoke from when smoking happened in bars. It was the kind of place where even if a celebrity showed up, no one would care. Unpretentious and discrete. Luke had done his homework.

You both agreed to pick the song for each other and that is would be a surprise for the singer. With a thin crowd that night, you did not have to wait long until the emcee called Tom’s name.

“And up next is another newcomer, Tom. With a sexy little song that makes all the ladies weak in the knees and wet in the drawers. He will be singing that Marvin Gaye classic, “Let’s Get It On.” Come on up Tom!”

If looks could kills those baby blues were daggers. You throw your hands up in a gesture as to say “You asked for it.”

With a glint in his eyes, Tom saunters up to the stage, taking the mic. Tom’s head drops as he looks at the ground and he waits. The familiar opening notes come on and Tom’s head pops up. There was a look of hunger and need in his eyes. His blue eyes were even more brilliant than you had ever seen before. The heat radiating out of them could bore a hole to your soul. You could feel your core heating up once again. Now you were the one squirming with discomfort.

Of course, his singing is near perfection. His hips swaying to the rhythm of the song in a hypnotic dance.. There were few women in the dark bar besides yourself but the ones who are were under the Hiddleston spell. You see them gazing at Tom on the stage with a look of lust that made you feel a twinge of jealousy. He was yours and no one else’s.

Tom’s song ended and he got a resounding round of applause from the audience. A couple of ladies gave a standing ovation.

As he sat you pulled him close and gave him a deep kiss on the lips, marking your territory. You could feel every eye of every female in the room staring you down with jealousy. But your moment of triumph was short lived as the emcee started up again.

“And up next we will have a newcomer, Wow, another sexy little number. She is singing that 80s one hit wonder, I Touch Myself by the Divinyls!”

You throw a dirty look at Tom, who throws his arms similar to yours earlier. You stand up and walk your way up to the stage, swaying your hips with each step. From behind you, you hear a few wolf whistles and you step up onto stage and snag this mic from the emcee.

The strains of the music start and you look at the computer screen in front of you. As soon as you start singing, you turn the sex kitten switch on.

You belt at the tune like no one is watching. You make sure to rake your hands up and down your curves making sure to brush your hands repeatedly over your crotch. You can feel all the eyes on you but you don’t care. You want to play Hiddleston, okay, let’s play.

And of course, when the moans came up in the lyrics, you give your best impression of hitting an orgasmic high. With your eyes closed, you couldn’t see Tom’s reaction but if you had you would seen him with a look of shock and arousal. He fidgeted in his seat. Mostly due to the discomfort he felt in his trousers. You ended your song, you received a resounding applause for the mostly male audience, with several standing.

You sashayed back to your table only for Tom to rise quickly from the table. You lose sight of him but turned to hear the next singer as he starts to sing some off key notes to “Welcome to the Jungle.”

Tom was gone quite some time, such you were worried something had happened to him or he had bailed. Just as you turned to look for him again, you feel Tom grab your wrist to pull you up from the table.

“Time for us to go, Darling.”

You open your mouth to protest but Tom takes his other arm, snakes it around your waist and roughly pulls you close into him.

“This is not a negotiation. We are leaving.”

His tone is not menacing but urgent and authoritative. Not wanting to push your luck, you are left with little choice but to allow him to usher you out a side door.

Tom steps away from you, pulls his phone out to make a call. The cool L.A. air hit your skin and you quickly shivered from the loss of Tom’s heat. You turned to see what he is doing. You overheard snippets of his conversation.

“Is everything all set?”

“Can you call the driver?”

“And he knows what to do?”

“Thanks.”

Placing the phone back into his pocket, he turned to face you. He had a hungry, lustful look upon his face. His eyes wide and skin flushed. Almost instinctively, you backed away, but you quickly felt your back against a wall. Cornered, now it was your time to swallow hard. You couldn’t tell by his face, if he was aroused or pissed off but you prayed it was the former.

Like a cat, he slinked towards you and placed an arm next to your head. He leaned in and you thought he was going to kiss you but instead he put his lips to your ear and in a low, seductive whisper, he said, “You have been quite the naughty girl tonight, Y/N. You have teased and tortured all night.”

You gulp and felt your face flush. You have suddenly lost some of your nerve from earlier in the night in the face of this different Tom. He was dominating and frankly, it was an incredible turn on. He continued.

“I thought you wanted the romantic dinners. To take it slow. But clearly I misjudge you.” He stepped back as though he was sizing you up. You found your voice and step forward. You get inches from his face.

“I did want them! But I want the sex and the heat as well! Can’t I have both? I mean what is the point of having a hot as fuck boyfriend if you can’t enjoy all of him,” you said a bit more forceful than you had intended to.

Tom blinked and then pulls you in for a deep kiss. You moaned into his mouth which allows his tongue entry to your mouth. You gripped the back of Tom’s head, fingers intertwining with his curls and pull him closer, if it was possible. With tongues and mouths exploring each other, the two of you are lost in a private world. So oblivious to the outside world, the two of you didn’t notice a limo parking beside you. If it was only when Tom broke the kiss, you noticed the long, black car.

With bated breath, Tom said, “Get in the car.”

You looked at him with shock.

“This is not our car.”

“It is now. I thought we needed something with a bit more…err.. privacy. Now get in the car.”

He opened the door and you slide across the seat in the back seat. It is dark inside with just some small interior lights along the door lighting the inside. The partition is up and there is no indication inside of their destination.

Tom quickly followed you inside and shut the door behind him. Without any instruction, the car began to move. You had a sense of excitement and anticipation in your stomach. You looked over at Tom. He licked his lips.

“Now…where were we?” he questioned in mock confusion. You took the opportunity to shimmy your already short skirt up to your upper thigh. You swung your leg over Tom and straddled his lap facing him.

“I believe this is where we left,” you said with a smirk as you grabbed his collar of his shirt and continued the kiss from outside the limo. Tom hungrily enters your mouth and you both groaned against each others lips.

With the privacy of a limo, Tom allowed his hands to explore your body. He raked his fingers up and down your curves of your body. You felt the heat radiating from each digit. His fingertips grazed softly over your breasts, heaving from your panting. You grind into his lap and felt the beginnings of his arousal through his trousers and now it was Tom’s turn to groan.

“Oh fuck, darling, why did we wait so long to do this?”

“You were too busy being a gentleman,” you respond and bit down on his lower lip. He let out a soft moan.

“Well I will never make that mistake again.”

With that, he grabbed your ass and pulled you in another embrace and began to attack your mouth with a wanton desire, like a man who had been starved for weeks and was put in front of a banquet.

As you grind together, you both groan into each others mouths which just fuels the passion. Tom’s hands are everywhere. As he grabs your ass, he moves your dress up and up towards your hips, exposing your panties. A black lace thong. Tom approves.

“Darling, you do come prepared, don’t you?” he commented as he sucked red marks in the crook of your neck.

Your only response is a moan into his lips. As you prepare to attack his neck, Tom suddenly pulls your dress back down. Confused for a moment, you hear a deep voice ring out.

“We are here, Mr. Hiddleston, do you want me to use the side entrance?”

Tom leaned to look over your shoulder, but kept a firm on your hips, grinding you in his lap. Making sure to push his engorged member through his trousers and onto your ever more wet entrance. You went to moan but Tom brought a finger to your lips to shush you.

“Yes, James and thank you.”

Tom just holds you in place until the car comes to a stop and then slid you off to the side. The door opened and Tom held your hand and helped guide you out of the car.

“Where are we?” There was an unfamiliar hotel in front of them.

“Well, darling, after your little performance, I felt we need a bit more privacy than my flat or your home. Plus this was much closer and I didn’t want to wait to ravish you.”

Tom led you quickly through the back entrance and before you knew it, the two of you were all over each other in a service elevator. Tom grabbed your wrist and pulled you down the hallway towards the door at the end. He fumbled the key for a bit and after some struggle, which only led to frustration, he got the door open and pulled you in.

He led you to the bed before climbing on top and kissing you fiercely with the hunger of a man with lust on his mind. You squirm underneath him. He pulled back.

“Darling, I am going to take my time, so the less you squirm and fight, the better off you are. I would hate to have to tie you down,” He shot you a naughty glance.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Very forward, Mr. Hiddleston, like you could actually control me,” you smirk back.

His eyes darkened.

“Just watch me.”

And with that you continued to his attack upon your body, pinning your wrist above your head. You groaned and moaned to his touch and hoped this night was just the first of many.

[nerdypanda3126]

Congrats on 100 followers! 💖 Can I ask the 100th prompt with Lukanette, please?

100. “You’re worth way more than you think.” 

AHHHH! This prompt just... I loved it. Thank you so much for the ask <3

Into the Spotlight

Read on Ao3

Marinette bit the thread to break it as she finished the final touch-up on Luka’s leather jacket. Fifteen minutes to go and Luka would be up on stage in front of a crowd of thousands for the first time. Marinette twirled the jacket back and forth in the air, inspecting her work to see if the fix was noticeable. From a distance, it would be invisible. Perfect.

When she looked up, she noticed Luka wasn’t in the backstage room with her anymore. He’d wandered off while she was working. Where could he have gone so close to show time? His makeup had been done, the instruments had all been set up and sound checked, everything was ready to go; she had just noticed the small tear in the seam at his shoulder and he had shrugged the jacket off for her to fix it by hand.

He had been pacing, now that she thought about it. More nervous energy had been pouring off of him than she’d ever thought possible. But she'd been nervous, too. When he had shrugged the jacket off and stood in his thin white T-shirt she swore the temperature in the room shot up ten degrees.  Their fingers brushed as he handed it off to her and she might’ve imagined his small shiver, but she definitely didn’t imagine the spike in her heart rate. So she had dutifully lowered her eyes to her work and focused on her needle and tried to calm her racing heart.

When she opened the dressing room door, a wall of noise rose to meet her. Luka was the opener for Jagged Stone. It was a huge gig, a great opportunity, and all of Kitty Section—including Marinette—had encouraged him to go for it. But now that she thought about it, had there been a pinch of hesitation in Luka’s voice when he had agreed?

She followed the noise and she found Luka off to the side peeking out at the crowd. As she watched, he took a deep inhale in and let it out before he turned his back to the stage and jumped up and down, shaking his hands out at his sides. It led to a full body shake and he took another deep breath before he sat heavily on an empty instrument case and hung his head. His hands clasped around his neck as he looked at his feet.

Marinette clutched the jacket to her chest. She’d never known him to be jittery, but then his performances were always for the few friends that supported Kitty Section and family events.

He didn’t even look up as she approached. Had he not heard her? Alarm pricked at her senses. It wasn’t like him, even with the thundering noise of the crowd, to not notice his surroundings.

She draped his jacket across his shoulders as she walked up. He held the collar together with one hand as he looked up at her with a strained smile.

“Thanks for fixing it, Marinette.” His eyes darted off to the side before he looked at his shoes again. She couldn’t tell if it was the pale stage light that made him look colorless or if he had blanched because of the sea of faces crowded at the edge of the stage.

She hesitated before she dropped her hand to his shoulder and squeezed gently, hoping to convey some sort of support. His hand came up to cover hers and he held it tightly. She could feel him shaking.

“Luka, what’s wrong?” She crouched to try to see into his face, but it was hidden by his hair.

He shook his head before he glanced up to meet her eyes. “Marinette I…” his voice wavered and he took another steadying breath. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Should I get Juleka?”

She started to stand, but he squeezed her hand and pulled her back.

“No. No, it’s okay.” He turned again to the stage and the harsh light threw half his face into shadow. “It’s just… you know. All these people. They paid money to see… what exactly? Not me, they came for Jagged and I’m just-” he cut himself off and swallowed visibly before he turned back to her. “I’m just some kid with a guitar that’s related to him. This… I mean...” he waved his hand in the general direction of the crowd. “I didn’t earn this. I’m not… I’m not worth-” he got too choked up to continue.

He let go of her hand and ruffled his fingers through his hair. A few drops of sweat flicked off his bangs in the light. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees and his forehead on his clasped hands. His foot started tapping frantically. She could tell he was trying to do his meditative breathing but he couldn’t stop shaking.

A fire lit in her. Raged around her heart and flamed up to her ears. To think that he didn’t know. She stood and pressed a finger to his forehead to push his head up until he was sitting up again, staring up at her in confusion.

“Luka Couffaine, you’re worth way more than you think.”

He was stunned into stillness. The jacket slid off his shoulders, but she didn’t care and he didn’t seem to either.

“You’re a great friend. An awesome brother. The most patient and observant person I know. But you’re always looking out for other people. This”—she waved her hand at the crowd—"this is yours. Your moment to be in the spotlight. You deserve this.”

He opened his mouth to object, but she pressed a finger to his lips. “I’m not finished.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he nodded. His eyes locked with hers and she knew she had his full attention.

She felt a blush creep up her cheeks as she pulled away. Must be the adrenaline that was fueling her impromptu speech. “You’re a badass guitarist. I know it. Everyone in Kitty Section and anyone who’s ever heard you play knows it. Jagged knows it, or he wouldn’t have offered you this chance. You’re going to go out there, and you’re going to play just like you always do. Like you’re playing for me.” His smile quirked up and she backtracked. “Or—or Juleka. Or Kitty Section.”

He was smirking now, but he nodded again and he wasn’t shaking anymore.

“My point is, you’re amazing.” Her eyes widened as she realized what she said. “Guitar! Amazing guitar—you play guitar.” She smacked her forehead and groaned. “Of course you play guitar, that’s why we’re here.” She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes and sighed before she realized he was chuckling softly and he sounded… closer. His hands took hers away from her face and he was standing right in front of her with a halo of light behind him from the stage. She licked her lips unconsciously and noticed his eyes dart down for a split second before they met hers again.

“You’re amazing, too, Marinette.”

Her breath hitched as he leaned down, but he turned to pick up the jacket from the floor and slung it around his shoulders to push his arms through. He paused to adjust the collar. “Thanks again for fixing it,” he said warmly.  

She got the feeling that he wasn’t talking about the jacket that time.

The emcee announced him over the loudspeakers. He twisted to look back out at the stage before he jumped up and down again and shook his hands out one more time. From excitement instead of nerves, judging by his grin. When he stopped, he took a steady, deep breath in and let it out before he took her hand in his.

“And you’re right, by the way.” His thumb stroked hers gently. “I do always play for you.”

The emcee called him again, but Marinette grabbed the collar of his jacket as he turned and pulled him back to her. His hand fell on her waist as she stood up on her tiptoes to press a light kiss to the corner of his lips.

“For luck,” she whispered as she pulled away. Before he could protest, she spun him around and gave him a gentle push towards the stage. He took a few stunned steps forward before he caught himself and waved back at her, smiling, as he stepped into the spotlight.

[sooma287]

DJ WILL GILL

About

DJ Will Gill is one of the top-rated Wedding DJs of Los Angeles, Santa Barbara, Orange County, and San Diego. He is a king of Open format DJ style so that you can get a mix of many genres. You get the perfect combo of charisma and charm with his entertaining style. If you want to see a sample of the entertainment that comes with DJ Will Gill, check out the video below and make the decision yourself.

https://youtu.be/q9PtCGH4l2c

Contact

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DJ Background

DJ Will Gill is from America, and he has also lived like a local in West Hollywood and venues as far as Ibiza, Spain. For the last three 3 Superbowl’s, he has been working as a Fox NFL Sunday’s DJ, which also includes Superbowl LIV in Miami, February 2020.

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You can start like this get a list of potential southern California wedding DJs. Shortlist on the basis of their DJ style samples, hear some of their mixes. Most professional wedding DJs have a Mixcloud page for easy streaming access.

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The above mixes are just a small sample; you can check out DJ Will Gill’s Mixcloud DJ sets for the complete list of multiple genres.

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Most people are unfamiliar with the fact that Wedding DJs can also serve as Wedding Emcees. DJ Will Gill as your wedding emcee, make sure to provide the guests with excellent customer service by using his turntables, microphone, and how he speaks to the audience truly sets the tone for an epic wedding.

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DJ MC Will Gill

If you're still confused in deciding to hire DJ Will Gill for your event, then let me add up here that DJ Will Gill is an All-rounder of Black Weddings you will ever find in Los Angeles. He is known for his multiskilled performances, talent, and professionalism that he takes to every event he is a part of. He will not only play music but also bring his emcee charism and personality on the mic, which makes him the most valuable choice for your event. His Experience of 20+ years speaks it all; he has excellent knowledge of past and present, which is comparable to none.

DJ Will Gill is the top choice out of a few African American wedding DJs for special events in Los Angeles. Why hire a different DJ for different events? Book your all events with DJ Will Gill and enjoy his powerful performance at all your special occasions, which could be weddings, birthdays, corporate, or public events.

Top Wedding Reviews

You can ask about DJ Will Gill from any wedding Venue authorities, photo booth vendors, or makeup artists. If they have seen him performing or got a chance to work with him as a team, they will tell you about the charisma, energy, and positivity he brings to the event. You can see Floral designs and designers of wedding dresses on his Google review page. DJ Will Gill knows how important your big day is, and he treats your wedding with positive energy so you can enjoy your celebration with love and, Of course, Deejaying.