#THIS WAS A DANCE JAM LIVE LAST TIME I CHECKED???? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tsunodaradio · 1 month ago

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unless you call tonight ⛐ 𝐋𝐍𝟒

THIS IS: FORMULA ONE, A MILESTONE EVENT 📀 lando falls for a busy woman and it ruins his life.

♫ starring: lando norris x pilot!reader. ♫ word count: 4.3k. ♫ includes: romance. suggestive content/off-screen smut, profanity. friends with benefits. @norrisradio requested busy woman by sabrina carpenter. ♫ commentary box: unfortunately, i will never be normal about anything tara asks of me. ever. all my lando's are hers and this is proof. 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Lando stares at his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen. The chat is open— your name at the top, a string of texts below. Nothing crazy, just a couple of messages exchanged over the past few weeks. Enough to keep the line open but not enough to call it anything solid.

He exhales sharply and locks his phone again, as if that will stop him from thinking about you. Spoiler alert: It doesn’t.

He unlocks his phone. Reopens the conversation. Scrolls up, reading over the last thing you sent. Been up since four. Dead on my feet. Talk soon.

That was two days ago.

Lando flops back onto the hotel bed with a huff. He should text you. It’s not like you’d ignore him. Every time he’s reached out, you’ve answered, even if it’s just a short reply before you’re off somewhere again.

But that’s the problem, isn’t it?

He already knows how this will go. You’ll take hours to reply, if you reply at all. Not because you’re uninterested— at least, he hopes not— but because you’re busy.

You live in the sky, chasing time zones while he chases apexes. He doesn’t even know where in the world you are right now.

You’d met briefly. One of those moments that should’ve been forgettable but wasn’t. He was waiting for his flight, slouched in an airport lounge, when you walked past in uniform, checking your watch. Someone had called your name, and you’d turned just enough for him to catch the hint of a smile.

He knew, then and there, that he had to at least try.

“Give me your number,” he had said, leaning against the airport counter, all charm and easy confidence. “So I can let you know when I land safely.”

You had laughed, shaking your head as you tapped your name and number into his phone. “Is that your way of saying you get nervous on flights?”

“No,” he’d grinned, locking the contact in. “It’s my way of making sure I see you again.”

“Don’t be boring,” you warned before handing him off to be handled by some attendant who had probably tried to flirt with him. He couldn’t be sure; he was so caught up with you that he couldn’t see past it.

Lando had planned on being anything but boring. And yet, here he is, stuck in his own head.

He drags a hand down his face, annoyed at himself, at the situation, at you for being so goddamn unavailable. Not in the emotional way. No, that would be easier. But in the literal, physical sense.

It’s ironic, really. He’s the one in a different country every weekend, but somehow, you’re still the one he can’t seem to pin down.

Maybe that’s what makes this feel different. He’s used to things being easy, casual, within reach.

You slip through his fingers before he can decide what to do with you.

He types out a message. u free?

Then he deletes it.

Tries a different approach. what country are u in now?

Lando deletes that, too.

His fingers dance across the screen as he jams out yet another thing he won’t send, typed out with the belief that simply putting it out into the world might suffice.

i miss being inside u, he types, and then he backspaces until it’s just i miss u, and then he just trashes the whole thing all together.

Lando rests his phone on his chest.

And waits. What for, he’s not sure.

It’s not like he’s asking for much. A conversation. A distraction. A sign that you might be thinking about him, too.

With a sigh, he locks his phone and sets it aside.

Not tonight.

The first time you slept together, Lando hadn’t really thought about what came after.

You’d been in the same city by coincidence. One of your flights aligning with his race weekend, just by sheer luck. The two of you had figured that out quickly enough, and from there, it had been easy.

A drink, a conversation that flowed too smoothly, a brush of your fingers against his when you took his empty glass from him. By the time you were both back at his hotel, neither of you had pretended it was anything but inevitable.

Lando had been more than happy to take his time with you, to let things build and stretch into the early hours of the morning. And, fuck, it had been good.

You were the kind of person who made everything feel easy, like you’d known each other longer than just the past handful of hours. Like you’d done this before, even though you hadn’t.

So he’d fallen asleep next to you, pleasantly exhausted, fully expecting to wake up to a warm body curled into his.

Instead, he had woken up to the rustling of sheets and the quiet clink of a zipper.

Blinking through his sleep-heavy haze, he had turned over to see you by the foot of the bed, pulling on your jacket. Your bag was already slung over one shoulder, your phone in your free hand. The bedside clock read something ridiculous— barely past five in the morning.

Lando frowned. “You’re leaving?”

You glanced at him. “Yeah. I’ve got a flight to catch.”

“Right now?”

You huffed a laugh and adjusted the strap of your bag. “That’s usually how flights work, yeah,” you had shot back.

He narrowed his eyes at you, still groggy, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you were actually about to walk out the door like this. “So you’re just gonna disappear before the sun’s even up?”

“I’m not disappearing,” you corrected, “I’m saying goodbye.”

Lando scoffed, unimpressed with the technicality. “Right.”

A brief pause settled between you. He could still see the soft marks of his fingertips on your skin, the messy imprint of the night before. He thought, just for a second, that maybe you’d hesitate. That maybe you’d crawl back into bed, let the morning stretch a little longer.

But you just smiled instead, already halfway to the door. “Good luck on your race.”

And with that, you were gone.

Lando sat there for a long moment, listening to the faint click of the door shutting behind you.

He wasn’t used to being left behind.

He had finished on the podium that race. Everybody talked about his car, about strategy, but he knew he’d been fueled by spite and the glorious afterglow of a good fuck.

A part of him had wanted to reach out and ask if you’d seen him win. He didn’t, of course. He liked to think he had some dignity.

Tonight, though, Lando is convinced that all of his dignity will be damned.

He steps out of the bar, the night air cool against his flushed skin. The noise from inside spills onto the street— laughter, the bassline of some song he should probably recognize, the occasional burst of applause from a group in the corner. He exhales sharply, rolling his shoulders as he leans back against the brick wall, phone in hand.

He shouldn’t be checking his phone. Shouldn’t be waiting for anything.

But he is.

He flicks his thumb over the screen, unlocking it for the tenth time in as many minutes. No notifications. No messages.

No messages from you.

His jaw tightens. He shoves his free hand into his pocket, tilting his head back against the wall. It’s stupid. You have a life, a job that doesn’t leave you glued to your phone, a schedule that barely aligns with his. But it doesn’t stop the frustration from simmering under his skin.

Then, as if the Universe is sick and tired of his moping, his phone vibrates.

from: little ms. pilot ✈️ You good?

Lando exhales through his nose, half in disbelief, half in relief. He should let you wait, make you sit in silence the way he had. But he doesn’t. His fingers move before he can think better of it.

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ i was starting to think you forgot about me

The dots appear immediately.

from: little ms. pilot ✈️ Don’t be dramatic. Long flights, long days.

He runs his tongue over his teeth. Yeah, he knows. Doesn’t mean he likes it.

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ am i so easy to ignore, hm??

A bit too honest. But he lets it sit.

from: little ms. pilot ✈️ Poor baby. Want a kiss to make things better?

A sharp laugh escapes Lando. He glances back toward the bar, but the thought of going back in— of pretending he’s not the happiest he’s been in days— feels unappealing.

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ ure lucky i’m a forgiving man from: little ms. pilot ✈️ Oh, are you? to: little ms. pilot ✈️ wouldn’t be texting u rn if i weren’t from: little ms. pilot ✈️ And here I thought I was doing you a favor.

Lando scoffs, rolling his eyes at his screen.

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ by what? keeping me on my toes? from: little ms. pilot ✈️ By giving you something to look forward to.

He shakes his head. You’re good— he’ll give you that.

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ u make it sound like u’re doing charity work from: little ms. pilot ✈️ Aren’t I?

Lando’s stomach tightens at the way you always manage to flip things back on him, like you’re the one indulging him instead of the other way around.

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ u r a menace from: little ms. pilot ✈️ You like it.

He doesn’t answer right away. His fingers hover over the keyboard as he exhales, glancing back toward the bar. He should go inside, forget about this conversation before it pulls him in deeper.

Instead, he types:

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ i like a lot of things about u :)

A beat.

The dots appear. Disappear.

Reappear.

from: little ms. pilot ✈️ Careful, Norris. Sounds like dangerous territory.

He smirks. Gotcha.

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ only if u make it out to be

No immediate reply this time. He waits for a second, then two, before locking his phone and shoving it back into his pocket. If you want to keep playing this game, fine.

But he won’t be the only one chasing.

Lando sees your name light up his phone, and for the first time in a long time, he considers not answering.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to. The problem is that he does—badly. He wants to see you, wants to hear that teasing lilt in your voice when you make some offhand remark that he’ll spend hours thinking about later.

The phone buzzes again.

from: little ms. pilot ✈️ Layover in your city. Few hours to spare. Busy?

He stares at the screen, jaw ticking with impatience.

This is the moment where he should say no. He should have some fucking dignity, tell you he’s got better things to do than be at your beck and call.

But he doesn’t.

Because Lando’s never been good at resisting things that feel good in the moment, and right now, there’s nothing he wants more than you.

He barely remembers the drive over, only that his knee bounced the whole way, his mind running in circles around the same thought: He should’ve said no.

When you open the door, it’s as good as over for him.

You're fresh out of the shower, hair damp, hotel robe tied loosely around your waist. You smirk when you see him, leaning against the doorframe like you already know he was coming the second you hit send.

Lando tongues the inside of his cheek. “You’re trouble.”

“And yet you’re here.”

You step back, letting him inside. The door clicks shut behind him, sealing the two of you in. He watches as you cross the room, and there’s a fleeting moment where he wonders if this will be the time it finally breaks him. If this will be the time he won’t be able to pick himself back up when you leave.

Then you tug him forward by the front of his hoodie, pulling him into a kiss, and he stops thinking altogether.

Lando’s hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer as if he’s trying to ground himself in the moment. His fingers press into the soft fabric of your robe, but it’s not enough. He’s desperate for more, for the feeling of your skin against his, the way you always seem to make him forget about everything else.

You laugh softly against his lips, a teasing sound that vibrates through him, and for a second, he thinks maybe you can hear the way his heart is pounding.

“Impatient,” you murmur, your voice low and smooth, as your hands slide under the hem of his hoodie, feeling the warmth of his skin underneath.

“You started it,” Lando replies, his voice rougher than he intended, his breath hitching when your fingers graze his chest.

You grin at him, and he can’t help but mirror the expression, even as he watches you slowly step back, eyes flicking between his and the space between you. It’s like you’re daring him to follow, to push this further— and God, does he want to.

Before he can take another step toward you, you pause, looking at him with a glint in your eye that makes him hesitate for a moment. “You’re sure you want this? You know how this goes, Norris.”

His throat closes up.

There’s that voice again, the one that whispers that he’s being a fool, that he’s walking right into the same trap he always does. The same trap you’ve set so many times before, and he’s willingly fallen for it each and every time.

“I’m not going to regret it,” he says, the words tumbling out more firmly than he feels.

His eyes are locked on yours, searching for any sign that you’re not on the same page. But you don’t look away. You’re not pulling back. You’re watching him with an intensity that almost feels like you’ve already made up your mind.

You nod, slow and deliberate, and then you’re moving toward him again, your lips meeting his in a searing kiss that makes his whole body hum.

There’s no talking after that. No hesitation.

The next thing he knows, he’s pulling at the knot of your robe, hands shaking as he exposes more of your skin, his mouth following the trail of fire you leave across his chest. You tug at his hoodie, almost impatient in the way you’re stripping him down, until he’s left standing in front of you in nothing but his jeans and the fast-fading remnants of his composure.

At this point, Lando’s not sure it matters. Not with you this close, not with your hands tracing the lines of his body, not with the heat between you building to a point where it feels like he can’t breathe without you.

And when you pull him into another kiss, your lips just as desperate as his own, it doesn’t matter anymore. There’s no more thinking, no more wondering. Just the feeling of you, here, with him.

Lando doesn’t think about tomorrow. Doesn’t think about the empty space he’ll wake up to or the way he’ll check his phone, hoping— pathetically— for a message that won’t be there.

For now, all that matters is the way your breath stutters when he kisses down your neck, the way your hands press against his skin like you need him just as badly.

For now, he lets himself believe that you do.

Patience has never been his strong suit, and he sure as hell doesn’t have any left when it comes to you. It’s been— what? Two weeks? Maybe three? Since the last time he saw you, since you last texted, since he last even felt like he existed in your world.

And fine, he gets it. You have a life. You have a job that keeps you moving, that pulls you across time zones and continents with no regard for whatever flimsy thing the two of you have going on.

But it’s starting to get to him.

He’s been staring at his phone for the past twenty minutes, scrolling through old texts, checking to see if maybe you had responded and he somehow missed it. (He hasn’t. You haven’t.)

Before he can talk himself out of it, he taps on your contact and hits FaceTime.

It rings. Once, twice— he’s already regretting it.

Then, you pick up.

You’re in some dimly lit hotel room, the glow from your laptop screen casting soft shadows over your face. You look tired. You blink at him like you weren’t expecting the call.

“Lando?” Your voice is thick with exhaustion.

“Hey,” he says, gripping the edge of his couch. He hadn’t exactly planned what he was going to say— just that he needed to see you, to hear your voice, to remind himself that he still exists to you. “Where are you?”

You sigh, rubbing at your temple. “Singapore. Just got in a couple of hours ago.”

He bites back the urge to apologize. Singapore. The other side of the world. Not that it should matter. Not that it ever has.

“You could’ve texted,” he says, and it comes out rougher than he means it to.

You frown. “I’ve been working.”

“For two weeks?”

You hesitate. It’s brief, but he catches it. “I meant to,” you say eventually. “I just— Lando, come on.”

“No, seriously,” he pushes, his grip tightening on his phone. “Do you even think about me when you’re gone?”

Your brows furrow. “Of course I do.”

“Yeah? Then why does it feel like I don’t exist as soon as you leave?”

That gives you pause. You glance away, like you’re searching for the right words. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Lando laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You could start with the truth.”

You inhale sharply, sitting up a little straighter. “Lando…” There’s something warning in your tone.

He shakes his head. “Forget it.”

A beat of silence stretches between you before you finally sigh. “I thought we were on the same page about this.”

There it is. The thing he didn’t want to hear, the thing he’s been trying to pretend doesn’t exist.

You’re not in a relationship.

You’ve made that clear from the beginning, in the way you never linger too long, in the way you leave before the sheets even cool, in the way you go weeks without speaking to him like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

But it’s not easy for him.

Lando swallows hard, forcing a tight smile. “Yeah,” he says. “We are.”

And then, because he can’t help himself, because frustration is curling hot and tight in his chest, because he wants you to hurt the way he does, he adds, “Must be nice, though.”

Your brows knit together. “What?”

“Not having to think about anyone but yourself.”

Your expression shifts instantly. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, it must be convenient,” he continues, his tone sharp. “Keeping me on standby for when it suits you, for when you’re not busy. Must be nice to just disappear whenever you want and not have to deal with the mess you leave behind.”

Your lips part slightly, disbelief flickering across your features. Then, just as quickly, your face hardens.

“Lando,” you say, voice steady, firm. “I’m not doing this with you.”

His jaw clenches. “Doing what?”

“This,” you snap. “Whatever this little tantrum is.”

Lando opens his mouth, but you don’t give him the chance.

“You don’t get to act like I’ve done something wrong just because I don’t orbit around you,” you say, and your words cut deep. “I told you what this was from the beginning. If you thought it was something else, that’s on you.”

He flinches, but you’re not done.

“And before you ask— no, I don’t have a flight to catch.” Your voice is like ice now. “I’m ending this call because I don’t feel like listening to your bullshit. I’m too busy for it.”

And then, just like that, his screen goes dark.

TWO DAYS LATER.

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ yo

FIVE DAYS LATER.

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ look, i was an ass. i know that just... idk. lmk if i can make it up to u or something

ONE WEEK LATER.

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ u still mad? tbf i’d probably still be mad

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ sooo does that mean i shd wait longer before texting again

TEN DAYS LATER.

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ ok i’ve done some thinking. i’ve concluded i deserve to be ignored, but also i don’t like being ignored

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ i feel like i shd at least get points for self-awareness

TWELVE DAYS LATER.

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ just tell me u hate me so i can sleep at night

TWO WEEKS LATER.

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ alright. u win. won’t bother u anymore

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ unless u text first. then it’s fair game.

ONE MONTH LATER.

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ saw a plane today and thought of u

to: little ms. pilot ✈️ i feel like that should earn me AT LEAST a pity response

Lando tells himself he’s fine.

He throws himself into racing, into training, into anything that doesn’t involve picking up his phone and staring at a dead chat. He convinces himself that it’s better this way. He’s faster on track, more focused in meetings, less distracted.

At least, that’s the lie he repeats to himself.

But then, one afternoon in Monaco, he sees you at the grocery store. Every carefully constructed wall he’s built around himself crumbles in an instant.

You’re standing by the produce section, inspecting a bunch of grapes like they hold the answers to the universe. It’s almost laughably ordinary— no pilot uniform, no layover rush, just you in a sundress, vacationing like a normal person.

And for some reason, that stings.

He almost walks past you, pretends he hasn’t seen you. But then you turn, eyes meeting his, and there’s no escaping it now.

“Lando,” you say, like you’re surprised to see him. Which is ridiculous, because this is his city. His home.

He swallows hard, nodding. “Hey.”

An awkward pause stretches between you, filled only by the low hum of the store’s music and the distant chatter of other shoppers. Lando clears his throat, gripping the handle of his basket like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Didn’t know you were in Monaco.”

“I’m just here for a bit,” you say. “Taking some time off.”

“Right.” He lets out a breathy chuckle. “Guess you’ve been too busy to take a vacation before now.”

The words come out sharper than he intends. Your eyes narrow, just slightly. “That’s not fair.”

He wants to argue, to remind you of all the unanswered messages, of how he felt like a complete idiot waiting for a reply that never came. But what would be the point? You’ve made it clear before that this was never anything serious. That he wasn’t supposed to care like this.

“Yeah,” he exhales. “Maybe it’s not.”

Silence again. Then, you shift your basket higher on your arm. “I should go.”

Lando nods, watching as you turn on your heel and head for the checkout. That should be it. That should be the end of it.

But suddenly, he’s moving.

He doesn’t even think about it, just grabs the first bouquet of supermarket flowers he sees, throws some cash at the self-checkout, and jogs out the door after you.

You’re halfway down the street when he catches up. “Hey— wait.”

You pause, glancing at him over your shoulder. He’s out of breath, which is embarrassing, considering he’s a professional athlete. He thrusts the slightly-crumpled bouquet toward you.

“Are you busy today?”

You blink, staring at the flowers like they might explode. “Lando…”

“I just— I don’t know,” he rushes out. “If you’ve got time, maybe we could—” He hesitates. He doesn’t even know what he’s asking. To talk? To fix things? To ruin himself all over again?

You exhale softly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. He watches you carefully, desperately, like a man on the edge of a decision he has no power over.

Lando lets out a breath, his grip tightening around the plastic-wrapped stems in his hands. “Look, I know I was out of line that night. And I know I’ve been acting like— like I don’t get what this is. But the thing is, I don’t think I know how to be casual about you.

“I’ve tried, and I’m fucking terrible at it. I want more, and I know that’s not what we do, but—” He shakes his head, his jaw working, like the words aren’t coming out right.

A passing car honks in the distance. The world moves on as if this isn’t the biggest thing happening in his universe.

“But I like you,” he says finally, voice quiet but firm. “I like you more than I should. And I know you’re busy, I know your job takes you everywhere, and maybe that means this doesn’t work. But if there’s even a small chance that it could—”

He looks at you like he’s never wanted anything more. “Just tell me if I should stop.”

Your lips press together, and for a long moment, you say nothing. Lando’s heart beats in his throat. He braces himself for rejection, for you to tell him this was a mistake, for you to hand the flowers back and walk away.

Instead, you take the bouquet from his hands, inspecting it like you’ve never seen supermarket daisies before. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips, small but real, and you shake your head just a little before looking up at him.

“You’re an idiot,” you murmur.

Lando’s stomach twists. “I know.”

You step closer, lifting onto the balls of your feet to press a kiss to his cheek. His skin burns where your lips touch, and he barely has time to register the warmth before you pull back, meeting his eyes.

“I might be busy,” you say, holding the flowers loosely in your hands. “But I think I have a little bit of time for you today.”

He’ll take it, he decides.

Today, tonight, tomorrow— for however long you’ll have him. ⛐

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fic #⛐ ln4 #⛐ kae prix #⛐ event: this is f1 #this was supposed to be a cute little 1k word fic :(#how did we get here :(...

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treatmelikeasmut · 20 days ago

Text

This Journey of Ours

MASTERLIST

PAIRING: Viktor x AFAB!Reader//Modern!AU

CW: Pregnancy, fluff, passing mention of postpartum

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Kind of wrote this on a whim. Just something small and cute that came to mind!

Don't forget to like, comment, and reblog your favorite fics <3

You stared at the clock, then at the time on your cellphone. Both read 11:48 PM. Of all the days for Viktor to stay late at the lab, it had to be today. Your knee bounced rapidly, impatiently. Gaze lingering on the TV, though you had no idea what was playing. Some show you swore for ages you’d get around to watching and never did. Now the volume was so low it was barely a hum. It joined the anxiety buzzing in the back of your skull.

Once again, you looked down at the object in your lap.

POSITIVE stared back at you. As it had for the last two days. No matter how many times you put the test down or hid it away in a box, that word remained. For two days nerves wrapped you in nausea, or maybe that was just the morning sickness talking. You were pregnant. The reality hardly set in. It just couldn’t seem to sink into your brain with any form of permenace. You were growing an entirely newly life that hadn’t existed before. That grew from two microscopic halves and would eventually become a whole new being.

You checked the clock again, then your cell phone. 11:53 PM. You had texted Jayce that morning, asking for him to muscle Viktor out of the lab early. You didn’t tell him a reason, only that you wanted your husband home before midnight. He had replied that it would be easy. Given the hour, it appeared it hadn’t been.

Chewing the inside of your lip, you looked at the test again. POSITIVE was still there. What would Viktor think? Children were a subject that was danced around in your household. The stance on it should’ve been made clear before your marriage. But was never established.

11:57 PM - the sound of a key being jammed into the front door lock. It was still three minutes to midnight, Jayce got lucky this time. A muttered curse came from the entry way. Then the uneven gait of Viktor’s footsteps as he came down the hall. They stopped at the entrance to the living room.

“Love, you’re still awake,” Viktor observed. He came up behind the couch, kissing the top of your head. “It’s late, you need your rest.”

“I like to stay up and wait for you,” you told him, praying your voice was steady.

“You don’t have to do that.” He came around and sat on the couch, leaning his cane against the arm. He looked at you with that smug expression you loved. “Though, I will admit - coming home and seeing you so immediately after a long day is my favorite.”

You smiled briefly, and Viktor’s expression changed. The test was pressed between your thighs, keeping it from sight. It was a hard rigid against the soft flesh that grew more uncomfortable the longer he stared at you. Your husband was sharp as ever, even as tired as he was. You never could keep anything away from that sharp gaze.

“Something is wrong,” Viktor stated, eyes searching. His hand sought yours, holding in on the cushion between you. “What is it?”

You drew in a shaking breath, staring down at your woven fingers. Your heart was in your throat, clawing at your ribs. You were sick with it. Even the tips of your ears burned.

“What…” you started. “What do you think about kids?”

Viktor sucked in a sharp breath, stilling in his seat. His fingers clamped aorund yours a little harder. “In general? Or…as in us?”

You swallowed, mouth tacky. “Us.”

“I…well, I -” He couldn’t seem to find the words, gaze wandering to the TV. The grinding of the gears in his mind almost audible. He muttered something under his breath. Then said, “I thought I had the count wrong. But I did not.”

You knew Viktor tracked your menstral cycles. It was even on a calendar on your fridge. He must’ve been doing the math in his head. Even being semi-irregular, your period exceedingly late.

“You’re pregnant,” he stated, turning back to you.

There was no doubt in his face. He was as sure about this as if he’d told you the sky was blue. In response, you pulled out the test. It still said POSITIVE. He took it from you with a shaking hand. Viktor was quiet for a long time, just staring at the digital screen. Like he was daring it to change its mind. You knew it wouldn’t.

“I know we didn’t talk about it before,” you admitted. “We should’ve…so, what do you think?”

Viktor didn’t move, replying sensibly, “That we will call the OB in the morning to set up and ultrasound and ensure all is well.”

You nodded. “And…other than that? I’d like to know what’s going on in Husbandland right now.”

Viktor’s eyes bounced to you, holding your gaze for but a moment, before they turned back to the test. “Do you think we are ready?”

“They say you’re never really ready for kids.”

Viktor’s mouth pressed into a flat line. “If I ask something, will you be truthful, my love?’

You squeezed the hand you were holding. “Always.”

“Will I be a terrible father? You know I never -” He cut himself off at the thought.

“I think the fact you’re nervous about it means you’re already a good one.”

The corner of his lip twitched, but his face remained blank. “I always figured if it was meant for me, then children would come. If it was not, then I would be fine with that too. - The same as before I met you. I thought that if love was meant for me, then it would find me. If I was to remain alone, then I would reconcile with that as well. Yet we are married and this test tells me that a little one will come. There is a surprising amount of fear in that.”

“I think you’re going to do great.” You scooted across the couch until your legs touched. Then leaned your head against his shoulder, your folded hands resting on your thigh. You stared at the test with him now. The only sounds in the room the murmur of the TV and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

“Jayce will be stupid excited,” Viktor finally uttered. Louder, he asked, “But what about work? Long nights in the lab cannot be avoided forever. They will happen. You will be alone.”

You shrugged. “We’ll figure it out when the time comes.”

“That is not fair you.”

“It’s what happens when I have a brilliant scientist as a husband.”

Viktor hummed. “I will need to do better…”

“You and I will figure it out down the line.” You squeezed his hand again.

Viktor’s cane clattered loudly as it slipped from its resting place. You both flinched. Viktor stared at it. “I will not be able to run with them. To do many things other fathers can.”

“Viktor,” you cooed, coaxing him to look at you. Panic was leaking through a careful mask. His eyes were wide, breathing a bit more rapid. You took his face in your hands, he leaned into the touch. “Our kid isn’t going to care about the stuff you can’t do. But they’ll always remember the things you can.”

“Like what?”

You leaned in a kissed him chastly. “Like vinegar and baking soda volcanos, and showing up to their games if they’re in sports, reading to them before bed - that sort of thing. They’ll just want time with you, how ever you can. - I’m also scared. What if I mess up? What if they don’t think I’m someone they can trust and come to when they get older? What if I accidentally feed them something they’re allergic to? I’m terrified of getting postpartum and doing something heinous.”

“I have no doubt you will as wonderful a parent as you are a partner. Whatever you need, I will do my best to accommodate.” Viktor cupped your cheek in one hand, running his thumb lightly across your skin. “I let you down enough as it stands. I don’t want to let the little one down, too.”

“You never let me down,” you whispered, a clot building in your throat. You swallowed against it. You were not going to cry right now. “You’ve frustrated me, sure - but never let me down.”

Viktor chuckled, the panic finally easing up. His eyes wandered back to the test. “So, it’s real and truly.”

You nodded. “I peed on two boxes worth of tests in the last three days, it was like Juno in here. They’re all stashed in a shopping bag under the bathroom sink if you want to see them.”

“That’s a bit overkill, don’t you think?” he teased, smirking.

Warm relief flodded through you, all your muscles relaxed for the first time in days. You laughed, shrugging. “Maybe - I wanted to be sure. Really sure before I told you. It’s like one of your experiments, right? You have to be sure you can replicate your results before you announce your findings.”

Viktor laughed rather heartily at that. “I suppose.”

“I’ll call the OB in the morning.”

Viktor nodded. “And I will make a list of questions for her. I have much to learn.”

“I’ll have to warn them when I make the appointment,” you joked, rolling your eyes. “You’re going to go overboard on research, aren’t you?”

“I would never dream of it,” scoffed Viktor, “I just want to make sure we are prepared. There is nothing wrong with that.”

You kissed him again. “Just make sure to enjoy the journey, too.”

Tentatively, Viktor placed a hand on your stomach, gently rubbing it through your shirt. You didn’t have a bump yet, but he seemed mesmerized all the same. He leaned his forehead to yours, then pressed a kiss to your lips.

“As long as the journey is by your side.”

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deepestdelulu · 6 months ago

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30 Things To Make Life Unforgettable

Appreciating life is one of the things I´ve learned this year, small things, happy moments... All of them are valuable for who we are as well as who we will become. However, we are not conscious of what we have, all the feellings we are experimenting and the opportunities we are losing for doing other things (such as being on our phones 5+ hours). I hope this list helps you making life a little bit simpler.

Walking in the rain. In my city rains a lot, so I´m not going to propose you going to the beach, since I can´t (obv you can do it), we have to adapt ourselves to what we have, and rain is one of my favourite things, I used to hate it when I was younger tho.

Spend your day in a cozy cafe. Not only can you have a coffee, but you can also read, study and be productive. The bes part is that you are experimenting new things, being productive and having fun with a hot coffe/tea.

Put your phone away. Be present babe, this is all what we have, you want to live your life, don´t you? Then start doing it, of course you are not going to live advemtures everyday, but at least you can try it. :)

Learn new things. It will never be a waste of time knowledge.

Be more passionate and intense. Who cares if you are too much? It only matters what YOU want.

Trying new recipees. I didn´t use to be a big fan of cooking, but I tried it few months ago, and let me tell you, all I do naw are bisquits for people I care.

More museums, more art gallery. I´ve always wanted to give mysterious girl vibes (I´m a yapper but introverted at the same time) you can always try reading in a museum.

"For the plot" mindset. My friends and I sometimes play saying yes to almost everything, just to see hwo things develop. It´s very fun:)

Bucketlisting. In a world of consumerism no one can scape

Trying something new. I started dancing, and I feel so energetic.

Learning to be alone. I do have a post about it :) go check it after this one.

Candle+Sweater=Coziness. Scented candles, my bff in autumn/winter.

Book annotating. It helps focusing, you can go through your notes after it and in my opinion creates more powerful bonds with the story and you.

Old classic books. Culture girls are the hottest.

Cooking your own meals. It's such a simple and sweet act of self-care. You can also try making your own Jam or something.

Doing things that you enjoyed as a child. My favorites are horse riding, swimming, baking, and bubble baths.

Buying flowers for yourself. It doesn't have to be an expensive and fancy bouquet, just some pretty flowers for your room.

Doing your nails. I like red wine ones, makes me feel like a vampire!

Taking more Photos. You can also buy a cool vintage camera (I recommend looking on eBay!) to make it more aesthetically pleasing.

Trying crochet, knitting, or sewing. I'm trying to crochet a sweater for my dog right now, haha.

Planting a plant. I tried to plant an avocado, but it didn´t grow as i expected, although i´ll keep trying it

Making plans with your friends like going on a picnic. You could plan some themed picnics like cottagecore, homemade food from your culture, strawberries, and so on; also a great opportunity to take some pictures!

Do volunteer work. Tried it last year, it was so fun to learn new skills and meeting new people while trying to make world better.

Writing a diary. Writing down things that have happened and looking back at them feels really lovely to me.

Writing letters to your friends. Letters just feel more personal than text; you can also keep them as a memory.

Dressing in a way that makes you feel happy. Wearing outfits that make you feel confident will definitely make life better.

Petting stray cats. I love cats.

Starting to collect something. You could collect something small like jewelry or postcards!

Playing music in the background while doing stuff. I can't stop listening to the lofi girl stream on youtube, haha.

Going on gloomy walks in the Forrest. Name something more comforting. I will wait.

Please feel free to add more suggestions in the comments! <3

✩‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧

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trickphotography2 · 1 year ago

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Wanna Dance with Somebody

When his girlfriend of three months ditches a night at the Hard Deck after a rough day, Bradley knows just what to do to cheer her up.

Word Count: 1.8K

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Off work yet?

Not yet. I have so much left to do in this last hour and a half.

Okay. Let me know when you’re on the way, and I’ll have your drink waiting.

Bradley glanced at his phone again to see if there was any update, only to see his last message left on read two hours later. Excusing himself from the pool table, he stepped out onto the patio of the Hard Deck.

You answered on the third ring. “Hey,” you said, exhaustion coloring your voice.

“Hey babe, just wanted to check where you were.” There was silence for a long moment before you sighed.

“Would…would you mind if I skipped out tonight? It’s been a shit day, and I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah,” he frowned. “Everything okay?”

“Just a lot. I still have about an hour of work before I can log off for the night. And some of the shit is going to be Monday’s problem.”

“Anything I can do?”

“No. As much as I appreciate it, no.” He could hear the smile in your tired voice. “Have a drink for me, tell everyone I said hi, and text me when you get home?”

“Will do, babe. Lo…lock up, alright?”

“Always do,” you replied, confused by his strange request. “Night.”

“Night.”

An hour and a half later, you shut down your computer and stowed it in your work bag, shoving that into the back of your closet. After changing into a pair of sweatpants and pulling on the wearable cat blanket that fell to your knees - Bradley had gotten it in a White Elephant Christmas exchange and shoved it into his closet, quickly giving it to you when you spied it the first time he made you dinner at his house and loved it - you shuffled toward the kitchen. Lunch had been a quick affair - a bag of chips and a mug of tea - since it had been a busy day. It was a busy week, to be honest. This time of year was always a shit show: people came out of the woodwork asking for help, projects that you pushed off were due, and new work started to pile up. It wasn’t until 3:00PM that you’d finished the stuff from yesterday and switched to today’s tasks.

You zoned out while watching the microwave heat up leftover pizza from the weekend and contemplated stress crying in the shower. A quick, cathartic cry would be a good kick-off to the weekend, but that would also require the effort of actually getting into the shower. Eating seemed like a monumental task, so showering would be even worse.

Beeping interrupted your musing, and you quickly silenced the microwave. The pizza was only lukewarm, but you ate it anyway. An open bottle of wine caught your eye when you refilled your water bottle, and you retrieved a wine glass from the cabinet. Thankfully, it was still carbonated after you’d shoved it onto the door shelf and jammed the stopper against the upper shelf. Pouring yourself a healthy measure, you retreated to the couch, tugging the blanket hood over your head.

With the lights off, you grabbed your phone and mindlessly scrolled social media while lying on the couch. A few videos made you chuckle, and you sent them to your friends. The sun had long set, but you had no motivation to turn on any of the lights in your home.

“Hey.”

“Fuck!” You shouted, jolting upright and sloshing the wine balanced beside you. The overhead living room light flicked on to reveal a smirking Bradley standing in the doorway.

“You alright?” He asked, trying to school his expression as you wiped wine from your hoodie, blinking at the sudden brightness.

“What are you doing here?” You demanded, glaring up at him. His mustache twitched as though he was trying not to grin - he had never seen you in “full gremlin mode,” as you called these nights, in the three months you’d been dating.

“Just coming to check on you and bring you this,” Bradley said, holding up a bottle of your favorite wine. Your eyes darted between it and his face, feeling your anger fade.

“Babe,” you groaned, setting your wine glass on the floor and pulling the hood down to cover your face as tears pricked your eyes. “You didn’t need to do that.” The carpet muffled his footsteps as he neared. Still, you heard the soft ‘thunk’ of the bottle and the metallic clanking of the spare key given to him to check your apartment when you went out of town for a conference hitting the coffee table before he gently pushed the fabric from your eyes.

“Bad day or long one?”

“A bit of both,” you shrugged. “This week’s been…” He nodded, thinking about what you’d shared over the last few days. Glancing at your wine glass, he grabbed the bottle by the neck and removed the foil.

“Sounds like you need something to make you feel better, baby.”

“Sex?” Throwing his head back laughing, Bradley twisted the wire cage keeping the cork in place.

“We can get to that. I was thinking about something else, though.” A loud ‘pop’ sounded as he pulled the cork from the bottle, retrieved your glass from the floor, and filled it before handing it back to you. Once the bottle was back on the table, he pulled out his phone and connected it to your Bluetooth speakers. “Ready?”

“For what?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow.

The speaker started to play a familiar tune, followed by clapping. Bradley held out a hand to you, hips beginning to sway. “Clock strikes upon the hour,” he crooned with Whitney Houston, “and the sun begins to fade.”

Tossing your head back into the couch arm, you groaned as he sang along to I Wanna Dance with Somebody. When you didn’t take his hand, he playfully rolled his eyes, plucked his aviators from the pocket of his Hawaiian shirt, and put them to the tip of his nose. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he attempted to moonwalk on the carpet, hands closing around the unbuttoned sides of his shirt.

His hips swung, fingers snapping while he danced and spun across your living room, fist raised to sing into an invisible microphone. Biting your lip against laughing, you watched him shake his ass while sliding the shirt down his arms, glancing over his shoulder at you in a pantomime of strip tease. While Bradley wasn’t the best dancer, he was certainly enthusiastic. Once free from his shirt, he tossed it at you, moving around your living room and singing loudly. “Oh, I wanna dance with somebody. I wanna feel the heat with somebody!” He wiggled an eyebrow at you, which was what made you crack.

Laughing, you reached behind your head to turn on the floor lamp before pushing to your feet and going to turn off the overhead light. In the dim lighting, you watched him hold out a hand for you.

As soon as your finger slid over his, he tugged, lifting his arm to spin you under it and then back again. His hand on your waist was a gentle pressure, muffled by the thick fabric, and you couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of you as he held you tightly and shimmied, crouching and hiding his grimace when his knees popped. On his way back up, his belt buckle caught on the fabric of your hoodie, tugging it upward.

Bradley towered over you, smiling as he serenaded and swayed in a rhythm too slow for the song. “I been in love and lost my senses, spinning through the town,” he crooned. You felt butterflies in your stomach at the sincerity shining in his eyes at those words.

“Sooner or later, the fever ends, and I wind up feeling down,” you joined in. “I need a man who'll take the chance on a love that burns hot enough to last. So when the night falls, my lonely heart calls - ”

Grinning, Bradley twirled you, tugging so you fell into him when the chorus picked up. His lips grazed your forehead, mustache tickling your temple as he rasped, “Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody, with somebody who loves me.”

Heart in your throat, you forced yourself to keep smiling as you danced. He was just singing the lyrics. Three months was too early to drop the ‘L’ word. When you pulled away, he caught your hands and spun you, crossing his arms over your front as your back pressed against his chest. His hold was a loose cage you had no desire to escape.

The song played as you swayed, head tipped back to rest on Bradley’s shoulder. The oversized hoodie, combined with the heat Bradley always threw, was getting to be overwhelming, but nothing could have made you move at that moment.

His hand lifted to gently stroke your jaw, light pressure encouraging your chin up so he could kiss you. The song faded, but you barely paid attention as he licked into your mouth. Your hand lifted to trace the scars on his cheek before cupping around the back of his neck, fingers curling hair that was getting tiptoeing the edge of being out of regulation.

There was a brief silence as the song ended before his playlist continued. “I need love, love, ooh, to ease my mind. And I need to find time, someone to call mine. My Mama said, ‘You can’t hurry love. No, you’ll just have to wait,” Phil Collins sang. Bradley chuckled against your lips.

“What’s so funny, Lieutenant Bradshaw?” you asked, attempting to turn in his hold, but his tight grip stopped you.

“Nothin’,” he replied, nipping your lower lip. “How’d you feel about grabbing your wine and hitting the shower, honey?”

“I could go for shower wine.”

The only crying you did in the shower was when Bradley went to his knees, your leg over his shoulder as he took you apart with his fingers and tongue. His eyes were soft as he washed your hair, taking the time to massage the tension from your neck and shoulders. His lips crashed into yours as you stroked his cock, feeling his hot spend against your stomach until he backed you under the shower spray to clean you off.

Later, he tucked you into bed and curled up behind you, drawing lazy circles on your stomach. The repetitive motion, coupled with his soft breathing, was lulling you into a trance. You hovered there, in that liminal space between awake and sleep.

Bradley’s fingers paused, and he whispered your name. You felt the soft press of his lips against your shoulder, countering the gentle scratch of his mustache when you didn’t respond. “Love you, honey,” he whispered against your skin so softly you were sure you dreamt it.

“Love,” you mumbled, feeling Bradley’s arm tighten around you as you slipped over the edge into slumber.

Three months was too early to say you loved someone.

But it wasn’t too early to dream it.

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Author's Note: Started thinking about this fic after a rough day at work and then it got lost in my drafts folder. Needed a bit of a pick-me-up recently, so I revisited this fic. Thanks for reading!

If you would like to be added to my tag list, please fill out this form.

Taglist: @shanimallina87; @roosterforme

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfiction #rooster imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x you

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sunalee · 8 months ago

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jam to my heart — Jay

summary: The handsome guitarist set his eyes on you, and lucky for him, you did the same.

with: Jay (Park Jong-seong)

warnings: rockstar au!, enhypen as a band, jay is a smooth fella, he's charming enough to make my cheeks warm.

a/n: jay with a guitar is such a perfect sight i can't even ratiocinate. Some of the boys aren't metioned, but they're still part of this au.

“C'mon _____, let’s stay on the front so we can see them better!”

Ami calls you out, dragging you through the ’90s themed new pub you’re visiting, “Cords and Jam”. The place is really cool, with black and white checkered floors, red walls with various themed lamps, and posters of classic rock bands. The staff is very friendly, not to mention the drinks and snacks that make you want to spend your whole wallet there.

But the reason you’re here it’s the almost one-year hiatus, not having seen any live show since this period. You miss this environment, the thrill of waiting for the next band to perform, and even the sound check that the musicians do five minutes before the music starts.

Ami told you about this band tonight, Orange Blood. You haven’t heard anything from them yet, but they’re really known on social media for their impressive covers, skilled talent, and very, very, good-looks.

Rock is great, but a handsome guy playing makes the experience one hundred times better.

She drags you to the front as you both get your bubbling drinks, fortunately not having too many people blocking your path. You don’t mind being in the back of the room, it’s even better to dance there, but you won’t lie, it’s so exciting being right close to the stage, even with the frenetic heartbeats that make you want to take another sip of the drink.

The band finally arrives, five handsome men in their twenties coming in front of the stage. The crowd shouts excitedly, you join them with your own hollering.

“Good night, everyone! I’m Jake, and we are the Orange Blood!” The blonde lead singer announces, a cheeky smile appearing on his face as he hears the crowd’s euphoric cheers.

The drummer, a dark-haired lad with side shaved haircut and looks of a runaway teen, taps four times the drum sticks together, a cue for the other instruments to start playing as well. On Jake’s left side, there’s the keyboard player and the bassist, the two with similar features and exhaling confidence. You heard around their names were Sunghoon and Heeseung.

But it’s the guitarist on the right side of Jake who catches your attention; suddenly, he’s the only thing you can focus on.

Not only for his great solo at the beginning, but his very charming personality. The way his fingers pluck the strings with such mastery, as if it were as eyes as breathing, his built arms taken by cool tattoo shapes matching with his dark, medium hair, his thin and well cared lips that forms a pleasing smirk whenever he hears a praise from the female crowd.

And when you hear his smooth, deep voice singing on his microphone, your legs almost give out.

It’s like this man put a spell on you, taking you to a place without time, space or circumstance, all your senses fixed only on him, mind navigating and daydreaming about different scenarios where he’s the main star, and you, his forever partner.

The show was a blast. Everyone had the time of their lives, and Orange Blood for sure would receive a lot of invitations after this concert. The mysterious guitarist wipes his sweating forehead after waving at the crowd, his black regatta clinging on his torso and making him look even more attractive. Unfortunately, he moves away with the rest of the crown, sparing one last glance before going.

That glance goes directly on you.

You don’t know what to think about it, your heart racing and mind numb from the unexpected moment, but before you can try to come up with something, Ami is dragging you by the hand again, leading you to the bar.

She tells you that she’s going to call her friend outside and would be right back. “Don’t accept drinks from strangers” was the last thing she said before leaving. You decide to order another drink, sitting on a free stool there.

You start wondering about what that gaze meant, the sweet flavor of your pinky lemonade helping your mind work even with the pub buzz. But you focus so much on your thoughts, that you don’t notice the main problem right in front of you, brown eyes staring at you with amusement.

“Pinky lemonade? Sweeter than I thought you would be, huh?” That smooth, dreamy voice wakes you up, making your heart suddenly flips as you finally realize who just sat beside you. He gives you another one of his charming smirks, supporting his jawline on his hand while he extends the other in your direction. “Jay. A pleasure.”

“______.” Best say your name right away than rambling trying to come up with a sentence. “I-It’s nice to meet you too. You played amazing tonight.” You can’t help but blurt your thoughts.

“You think so?” He tilts his head, looking even more interested now, his eyes following you like a cat gazing at its prey.

You bite inside your mouth, feeling uneasy but not in a bad way. “Yeah, totally.” You nod to your own sentence. Jay tries to hold back a chuckle. “Uh, shouldn’t you be in your dressing room after playing?”

“And lose the party? What’s the fun in that?” He questions, raising his pointer finger to call the barman. “Same thing she’s having.”

Now you can’t help your chuckle. “Are you a sweet man too?” Your interest wins your nerves, showing Jay your playful side that he’ll surely enjoy in the future.

“I don’t like getting drunk. Especially not when I’ve just met a pretty girl like you.” He flirts without shame, making you swoop into his charm so easily that you even forget that you came with Ami here. Not that she wouldn't support you, anyway.

“I don’t know If I should be flattered.” But you’re not hooked enough to be fooled. Whatever this man wants with you, you want to figure it out now.

He gives you a knowing smile, as he just reads you like an open book in front of him. His pinky lemonade comes just in time for his answer, his hand holding the glass but not taking his brown eyes off you.

He wants you to know that feeling too.

“You should be.” He answers honestly, self-confidence boosting around him. “ It’s not every day that I set my eyes on someone special.” He moves to click his glass with yours, taking his time to take a small sip of his drink before leaning close to you, gaze and smirk never faltering.

“And when I find someone special, doll, I don’t lose my chance.”

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yours-etc · 5 months ago

Text

12 Days of Steddie-Mas

Day 3:

I’ll be home on the 23rd

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Waiting by the phone, Steve watched the TV broadcast of the show. Corroded Coffin had completely blown up in the last year. They managed to get one song on the radio and it seems like the stations just can't turn them off. Their small venue tour had to quickly be upgraded to arenas and more dates added. They've sold out every show. Steve couldn’t be more proud of Eddie, this is everything he’s ever dreamed of. He does miss him, of course he does. Steve had prepared for three months apart, so when it turned into six months and then nine, he was just a bit shocked. Eddie had promised to call every night and he has yet to break this promise. Sometimes they are short and sweet, usually when STeve has to be at the school early the next morning. Other times they last for hours, Eddie so full of adrenaline that he just spews out anything he thinks about, and Steve is just happy to listen.

About a month ago Eddie called to strike a deal.

“Stevie baby,” He drawled into the phone hesitantly.

Steve sighed into his end, “Eds, don’t start like that.”

“I just want to get the bad stuff out of the way!”

“What happened?”

“They want us to do a live show on Thanksgiving”

“And?” Steve presses, knowing there’s always more.

“And— a live show right before Christmas.”

“Ed—”

“But I have a deal for you!” Eddie interrupts, trying to smooth the situation.

“What is it?”

“We do the shows, but I'm home by the 24th and stay through New Years. The last show is in February, so after that we are doing nothing, for a whole year Stevie.”

This piqued Steve’s interest, “A whole year? You sure you wouldn’t get bored?”

“Jeff and Gareth both agreed, we all need a fucking break. We want a year just to be normal again,” Eddie sighs, “It’s not like we won't write music or hang out or have small jam sessions together, there’s just no pressure to do it. I want to be with you sweetheart, I hate waking up and not seeing you there next to me.”

Steve smiles into the phone, “Well I’ll never complain about seeing you, but I don’t want you to give this up.”

”We’re not stopping, it's just— a pause, a moment to fucking breathe.”

“So the 24th?” Steve checks.

“The 24th.” Eddie confirms.

“See then, Eds.”

“See you soon, baby.”

So here’s he was, December 22nd, watching his rockstar boyfriend shread on stage. He smiles as Eddie jumps aroun the stage, messing with Gareth and Jeff, showmanship on full blast.

The rockstar leans into the mic, “For our last song, as always, I’m going to dedicate this to the love of my life,” he says looking directly into the camera, “Be home soon baby.”

The crowd erupts.

Gareth leans into his own mic, “Awe, Eddie you sap.”

Jeff joins in on the teasing, “Eddie, stop over compensating, everyone knows they love me more than you.”

Eddie laughs and shakes his head, “You two are impossible to work with.” He starts playing the opening notes as the crowd roars.

He wrote the song years ago for Steve. When they finally got a record deal, it was the only song Eddie really cared about making it on the record.

“I want the whole world to know how much I love you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re mine for life sweetheart.”

Everytime he hears the crowd singing along it brings tears to his eyes. He’s seen couples dance to it at weddings, getting proposed to it during concerts, making cute videos to it. Love speaks to all. He loves how their love is so fully on display. Even though Steve has asked Eddie to keep his name and identity a secret to the public, that doesn’t stop him from constantly talking about how much he loves Steve at every chance he gets.

Eddipe wraps the concert up waving goodbye to the crowd, “Happy Holidays everyone! See you in January!”

Not more than an hour later Steve’s phone starts to ring.

“Hey there Rockstar,” Steve says into the receiver.

“Hey there lover,” Eddie yells through the line.

Steve yanks the phone away from his ear at the volume, “Jesus, Eddie, no need to scream,” he scolds half heartedly.

“I’m just happy to talk to you,” Eddie says now in a normal volume.

“I’m happy to talk to you too.”

“Excited to see you in two days.”

“Well I’m excited to see Gareth more,” Steve teases.

Eddie huffs, “Yeah right, I know I’m your favorite, even if you won’t admit it.”

They talk for a bit. Steve goes on about how crazy all the kids were on the last day of school. How his usual go to was a Christmas movie day, but he wanted to be different this year. So he set up games and crafts and music. And now he has a headache. Note to self, stick with the movies next year. Eddie talks about how Steve works too hard, which Steve shoots right back at him. They both work themselves to the bone, but there is nothing in the world either of them would rather do. It just feels harder when they are apart. Steve asks what Eddie wants as his welcome home dinner and of course it was something dirty that cannot be repeated.

Steve yawns into the phone sometime around one in the morning.

“I’ll let you get to bed baby, see you in a few days,” Eddie says softly.

“Love you, Eds.”

“Love you more, Stevie.”

———————————

The next day Steve cleaned the whole house top to bottom, every corner and nook and cranny. He scrubbed and whipped and washed until there was nothing left to polish in the house. His excitement kept him running and he needed an outlet. After the house was sparkling he wrapped the last of the presents. Steve wanted Eddie to come home to a perfect house. Even though he would go through it like a tornado, Steve didn’t care that it would get ruined immediately. He needed to keep his mind busy. Otherwise he would pace around the house just counting the seconds till Eddie came home.

Eddie.

His brain repeats on a loop. There was no way he could actually be productive outside of the house, so he stayed inside and perfected their home.

The doorbell rings and Steve thinks it's probably just a package with one of the last few gifts he ordered. He doesn’t get up to check, he’ll just get it later.

There’s a knock on the door a moment later. Once again he ignores it, thinking the delivery man is just double checking before leaving it on the porch.

The knocking gets louder and more aggressive. Not stopping. Just continuous knocks right after another. This gets Steve to finally get up and walk to the front door. Normally he would check the peep hole to check who it is first, but the knocking distracted him.

Steve threw open the door, “Who—” he cuts himself off.

There in front of him was Eddie, bags in hand, snow sticking to his messy hair, and a coy smirk on his face.

“Sorry, Stevie, I left my keys last time I was here and it's freezing,” Eddie says standing there.

Steve looks to the front entrance table. There in the bowl sits Eddie’s set of keys on a cheesy keychain they got in Chicago when they visited a few years ago. He looks back to his boyfriend in disbelief.

Eddie adjusts the bags on his shoulders, “Can I come in, or are we just going to stand here till I get frostbite?” he jokes.

Everything clicks for Steve at that moment. Eddie was here. In the flesh. For the first time in months.

Steve grabbed Eddie by his coat and pulled him in the house. He connects their mouths as he pins Eddie to the door. His boyfriend comes willingly and drops all his bags to wrap his arms around Steve’s waist, pulling them closer together. Steve’s fingers wrap themselves in Eddie’s curls desperately trying to deepen their kiss. Their hot breath fogs around them in the lingering cold air.

“You’re early,” Steve says, breaking for a breath.

Eddie moves to Steve’s neck, coating the skin in hot touches, “Surprise,” he whispers into Steve’s ear. He wraps his hands under Steve’s thighs and lifts him up.

Steve wraps his legs around Eddie and plants kisses across his boyfriends whole face. Cheek to cheek, the bridge of his nose, his chin and forehead, and especially his mouth that tasted like the usual cigarettes and coffee.

Eddie carries them the stairs towards their room.

“WAIT!” Steve gasps as he remembers all the gifts he left all over the place in there, ones that Eddie cannot see before Christmas.

He scrambles out of Eddie’s arms and runs to the room, “Give me a second to hide everything!”

Eddie knows not to argue, and not to snoop. Steve takes Christmas very seriously and will not stand for gifts to be spoiled.

Steve runs around the room, shoving things in drawers and under the bed and in the closet. Once he is satisfied with everything being out of sight he opens the bedroom door, “Welcome home, baby,” he says waving his hand towards their bed.

Eddie is on him again in a second, closing the door once again behind them. Although that did little to muffle their sounds. Not that there was anyone else in the house to hear them anyway.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Day: 1 2 3 4 5 6

Happy Day Three!!!!!

Sorry this took a second, I got like ridiculously buys over this past week and did not have the time to write like I initially planned for! This one is just a bit of cutesy to warm y’all’s harts <3 Nothing explicit… yet. Stay tuned and all that.

Thank you for reading! It means the world to me that people are enjoying all this!

#stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #k scribbles on paper #k does 12 days of Steddie-Mas!!#steddie ficlet #steddie fic

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ssivinee · 2 years ago

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I have a request if you're accepting or like idea or thought 🫠 what if like the reader is a member of a kpop group like le sserafim or ive something, and she got casted at swf2 and she's either in team jam republic or team bebe, and the reader is in a relationship with bada lee like that's not a secret, and then bada got jealous of the reader being close with other people or like haechi or redlic something tysm btw i'm fan of your fanfics like gurl you're so good as in !!! 😭🫶🏻

✧Blue Envy✧

BEBE! Bada Lee x Le sserafim! F Reader: You were a Japanese member of the world-renowned kpop group Le sserafim and were allowed to join the latest season of Street Woman Fighter. After finding out your girlfriend would be on the show, you gladly accept the offer, thinking you'd both enjoy it, yet Bada is caught off-guard at your new unwanted friend.

Word Count: 1.4k

Note: First anon req🤭. Something light before I knock out for the night lol. As of 9/24 my requests and taglist ARE open. (Check out Sivine’s files for anymore information, pinned post)

Character Vision Board

Being one of the top idols right now made you understandably busy, so people were surprised at the announcement of you joining Street Woman Fighter 2 while preparing for the Asia Tour. You are THE Nakajima Y/n of Lesserafim. Everyone in the kpop scene knew you or knew of you. You were among the few with prior dance training in the industry before becoming an idol.

Specifically being advanced in Contemporary dance.

That's what you were known for. I mean, your group had the most background variety compared to all the 4th gen groups. The fimmies had a ballerina, an opera singer, a J-pop idol, a dance academy student, two ex-izone members, and a modern dancer.

You were also the second oldest of the team, holding a motherly reputation in the public eye. Regardless of this persona, everyone knew you had; Bada had met you in your youthful, energetic, and lively state.

The two of you had met through Aespa, being friends with them since you were a trainee at SM Entertainment many years ago. It was a Tuesday in March, and you had decided to visit the girls preparing for their next comeback with 'Girls.'

When you come in, Ningning automatically introduces you to their teacher, Bada. The two of you quickly hit it off, bonding over dancing and your experiences, which led to you two dating 5 months later.

This was revealed to the public a month after being official, but you were okay with it. It made you and Bada happy, not needing to hide that the two were very much together and so in love.

So why the hell was this happening right in front of her face?

It all started when you came in with your girls from Jam Republic. You were called for a meeting 2 months before the show and were told that Jam Rebuplic Agency was allowing you to become the 6th woman of their group. There was no way you'd deny that offer, so you met the girls and bonded as a crew.

During filming, it was time for every group to enter the fight zone, Jam Republic being the last to enter. When entering, Ling's arms stuck onto your waist as the two of you had become insanely closer the past few weeks.

Bada stares at you with stars in her eyes. She told you how gorgeous you were every day, no matter how you looked in the moment, but seeing you in this baby pink outfit had her soul crying out to you.

Your participation in the show caused chaos for other groups. You were a celebrity, an idol, a model, a dancer, a singer, and everything in between. Nakajima Y/n was the talk of the town, and you didn't mind it one bit. Not even sparing a glance at other teams.

Bada didn't mind either. I mean, she loved the attention her girlfriend got. It was an ego booster for her since she got you first and knew no one could take you away. She was just lucky to have you, emotionally and physically.

As people discussed your presence and life story, this brought up your relationship with Bada. Would the course of the show be affected by this? How would people feel about a couple being on two different teams? Was Y/n or Bada happy about the situation?

Those were questions that cycled through everyone's head yet were left unanswered.

After introducing everyone and changing clothes, you had already participated in two no-respect battles, enjoying every moment you could when grooving your body. Bada watched every move and reaction, wanting to hold you when your eyes went wide or kiss you when you pouted.

You would cling to Audrey, who hugs you back, leaning into your body. Ling would squish your face every time your reactions were over the top. Your own leader would pat your waist or butt for motivation, while Latrice and Emma always found ways to make you laugh. Your significant other smiles at your friendship with the girls, adorning the happiness that spreads across your face.

Seems like she wasn't the only one admiring, though.

After a few more battles, it was Wolf'Lo Haechi Wang's turn. She looks around teasingly but walks before Jam Republic and asks you to step out. You bow at the woman, trying to come down from your seat, but before you can come down yourself, Haechi gives you a hand, guiding you to the dance floor. You allowed her, yet hold confusion on your face.

Have you ever seen a contestant on any other season helping a competitor this way? Nope. That's precisely what Bada thought.

Bada's brows furrow at Haechi's motion. This was a competition, so why was she being way too nice to you? She understood that you were pretty and people would flirt with you, mostly when they thought you were single, but this angered her. Haechi must've been aware of your relationship, especially after everyone talked about it, AND this was going on live television. Did Haechi just wanna fight Bada at this point? Because that's how your girlfriend begins to interpret it.

As you were the challenger, Heachi goes first. Showing off the years of experience Wolf'Lo had in freestyle, she represented them well. The swaggy, hip-hop, energetic vibe set the tone for the battle.

Haechi got exceptionally touchy with you as she moved around, tugging on your shirt, signaling your thighs when the song talked about desirable legs, body rolling very close to your body. You laughed at many of the girl's tricks, believing it was just to give everyone a good show.

Once it was your turn, you removed your shoes and began dancing with extreme feeling and emotion. Due to your style of dance, the performance turned suggestive really fast. Contemporary had a lot of eye contact, floor work, body rolls, and storytelling, so Haechi thoroughly enjoyed the show.

Bada didn't even pay attention to the taller dancers' reaction. Her lover was dancing, and that's all she could focus on. Everything was going fine until the judges showed you winning for your team by 2:1.

Heachi congratulated you, but due to your height differences, her arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in as you leaned more on the tips of your toes. She then whispers something in your ear, and your ear grows red. This doesn't go unnoticed by your girlfriend, who currently had her knuckles growing red due to the tight fist she was making at the sight of you two.

That's what Bada's predicament was right now.

Jam Republic and Wolf'Lo sat beside each other, so many interactions arose. Heachi figured out how nice it was to talk to you. Your voice was soft and mellow, and you made jokes, portraying your personality more. Haechi grew fond of you quickly, having many side conversations during every no-respect battle.

Bada could only watch from the sidelines, almost wanting to rip Haechi's head off.

She wasn't one to ever be jealous, especially since the two of you had fans calling you one of the greatest couples. Yet she gets annoyed and frustrated thinking of how Heachi is similar to her.

Both were tall, had a sense of humor, and attracted women more than intended... it was off-putting for Bada.

So, during the break, Bada uses the bathroom but returns to the most unpleasant sight. You and Haechi were speaking to each other, Haechi leaning on the wall, towering over your body. Your innocent giggles can be heard from afar, and Bada is strangling her water bottle.

While talking, the taller girl begins playing with your hair, tucking it behind your ear and this set off Bada into a frenzy. She grabs your wrists and drags you into the bathroom.

"Bada, what the hell?" You say, a little louder than intended, due to the pain in your wrist from the pull. "Can you not?"

You stood there confused, "Not what?"

"Talk to that fucker, Haechi?"

The confusion turns into a playful grin with a raised brow. This was a new look on your girlfriend, which definitely amused you. "Is my baby jealous?" You tease the woman as your arms pull her in by the waist.

Bada sulks at your question, and you giggle, eyes never leaving hers.

"There's nothing to be jealous of? You're mine, and I'm yours, remember?" You peck her cheek and give her a secure hug. You hear her sigh, and you pull away to caress her face.

Bada closes her eyes at your touch, feeling relieved and calmer than a few minutes ago.

"How about you and I watch a movie after all this?" You ask, lightly sweeping her bangs to see her eyes clearly. "With cuddles and kisses?" Bada's eyes glimmer as she questions you, causing you to chuckle and nod at how cute she can be.

"Of course, you'll have your kisses and cuddles."

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #street woman fighter x reader #street woman fighter 2 #swf2 #swf2 x reader #bada lee x fem reader #bebe #gxg #wlw #jam republic #ssivinee

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laurashapiro-noreally · 1 year ago

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Looking for something to read?

Oh look, it's another recs post! This time I'm featuring two stories per author. These are writers I always make time for, whose work stands out as unusually hot, clever, funny, or smart -- sometimes all of the above.

I'm gonna start you out strong with two by @werpiper: After Hours takes Aziraphale and Crowley to the baths after their oyster supper, and all sorts of interesting pleasures are there for our angel to sample. Piper's Crowley is one of my favorites: always evaluating the situation, not quite aware of what his own heart is doing but feeling it anyway.

Fitting In is a new story, still a WIP, but I am utterly tantalized by Muriel's first taste of love -- and tea. This is already rich in detail, soft and fragrant, and I can hardly wait for the action to get going in earnest. The pairing seems surprising but when you think about it for ten seconds of course it makes sense. Sex workers help the curious, the awkward, and the inexperienced every day, bless them.

If you enjoy these, check out @werpiper's back catalog -- they have done a ton of ineffables-through-the-ages, and their series Miracles and Heresy is worth many delightful hours of your time.

I love what @copperplatebeech has been doing lately:

He's Not My Friend is a T-rated story that explores Aziraphale's constant refusal to acknowledge his relationship with Crowley, and Crowley's mirror of that, and how things glacially shift over time. It is subtle and yet specific, it will make you ache and smile.

All Of The Above, also T-rated, is a warm and fuzzy alternative to that, a hilarious celebration of true friendship that made me laugh out loud and still got me right in the feels.

@copperplatebeech can do everything, from quiet, gentle, and romantic to devastating plotty AUs to extraordinarily horny established relationship to absolutely ridiculous humor. Do dive in if you haven't already.

Next up, @cumaeansibyl, master of kink:

better living through technology manages to shove everything I want in a dirty story into less than three thousand words: uptight Aziraphale reduced to sodden wreck, Crowley gleefully showing him what he's been missing, character-driven erotics, and exceptionally funny dialogue.

indulgentiam peccatorum nostrorum is somehow all that and more, turning the "I was wrong" dance into a kink (something I can't get enough of, recs welcome). This one is post-Bastille so it is extra-juicy. Mind the tags!

@cumaeansibyl has a gift for established relationship one-shots, which readers of mine will know are my entire jam. They also have a mind-meltingly hot inverse!omens AU that features different variations of angelic/demonic Crowleys and Aziraphales for our ineffables to play with.

A new-to-me author, Calico, has me hanging by a thread with their Ineffable Romans series. If you want to remember that your ineffables aren't human, that they are inordinately clever but very stupid, that the feelings they have for each other are truly beyond what anyone alive has ever felt, Calico may be the writer for you. This stuff is deep. Also hot af.

Sub Rosa reads like a nasty shag at Petronius', but there's so much more going on here. It is Extremely Queer, driven by power dynamics, and Crowley is fully demonic here and absolutely in control...or is he?

The Intemperance of Liber Pater continues on this theme, with dialogue-driven smut that reads less like a seduction than an inevitability. There's another story in this series, unfinished, and I can't wait to see what happens next.

Last but not least: two short pieces by @ineffabildaddy. I stumbled on their stories just this week and I absolutely love their approach, which I've not seen done quite this way before.

take me as your wife has a tight first-person perspective as Crowley meets Aziraphale for a meal and imagines (or is it his imagination?) that Aziraphale is suggesting Certain Things about how they might occupy themselves later. Indeed, is he suggesting even more? Something about their relationship? Or is it all in Crowley's head?

Only in Dreams is kind of a companion piece, from Aziraphale's point of view -- though hundreds of years later. This one's set after the events of S2 and although just as romantic as take me as your wife, it also offers an ineffable take on the ol' glory hole concept. Just in case you thought I was getting soft. 😏

@ineffabildaddy has a whole series of poems and ficlets like these and I can't wait to explore them all.

#good omens #fic recs #good omens fic recs #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorce #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #rare pair #muriel

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zsofiarosebud · 1 month ago

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Okay folks, want to explore Galizan music? Then

Start here.

Nowadays there's galizan music in every fashion and style! Thank tradition and community spaces for the good health of our musical industry, ever growing! Here you have some examples:

Mondra

Electronic folk

Lately, a lot of galizan artists inspired their works on Galizan traditional music. They're usually put under the tag 'tradi'. They're mostly queer friendly or openly queer artists who knows how to dance, sing and play traditional instruments. But this guy? What this guy does is sickk!! Unique style and a great live performance!

youtube

Check out also this recent single... are you thirsty now?

Caamaño & Ameixeiras

Folk

More stuff on the folkie side. Give this two a violin and an accordion and wait for the magic to happen!

youtube

De Ninghures

Folk

This is my most recent discovery on the galizian folk scene. They originated in a foliada, that is, a kind of traditional party and jam session in which everybody bring their instruments and voices and improvise.

youtube

These three bands, Mondra, Caamaño & Ameixeiras and De Ninghures, are my absolute top three of nowadays galizian folk music. Enjoy!

Tanxugueiras

Folk pop

Everybody knows the Tanxugueiras here, even little kids sing their songs in school. They were a musical phenomenon, one of the bands that started the most recent folk fever a few years ago. They almost got to Eurovision! But Spanish tv didn't want an indigenous nation to represent the whole state and opposed this. SHAME

I like their first album more than the second, but the second has MIDAS.

youtube

(Footnote here: the gorgeous man in the bathtub is Xisco Feijóo, he's a great dancer singer and tambourine player, check him too!)

Baiuca

Techno folk

This man plays with old recordings like dolls. I really like the vocals of Lilaina, frequent collaborators of his. BUT for me the fucking best song he made is not technically in galizan, but in asturian language, it's a collab with asturian artist Rodrigo Cuevas. Check this!

youtube

That was tradi. Now for some punk!

Grande Amore

Techno punk (sorta???)

This guy's lyrics are so FUCKING relatable when you're a late millenial living in Galiza. The ANGST, the DESPAIR. Always with an eye on partiying. And so fuckin funny! Check out this song and also his best known single as well: Esta pena que a veces teño. And also maybe his last album. Go in peace now!

youtube

Os Vacalouras

Punk with funny lyrics and strong local identity

I've already talk about them in Galizan. They were my best 2024 summer discovery!

youtube

Familia Caamagno

Punk

This people took a righ-wing pop hymn and made a cover, with a music video full of communist parafernalia. RESPECT!

youtube

Expect more parts to this post! There's still classical music, jazz, rap, pop... and that's only the beggining, because I also want to go back in time and discuss the Galizan Folk Renaissance and such. Stay tuned!!

#Youtube #music recs #music recommendations #music #música #música galega #galiza #galego #punk #folk #folk music #music videos

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blouisparadise · 1 year ago

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Upon request, today we have the fourth part of our rec list of bottom Louis fics where Louis and Harry are friends who become lovers. If you'd like to check out the previous rec lists, you can find part one here, part two here, and part three here. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word.

Happy reading!

1) Truth Or Drink | Explicit | 5,548 words

Harry isn’t nervous. Of course he isn’t. He has done much more intimidating things than this. He has had sex with at least 100 men, and a few women along the way, while being filmed and watched by another 20 pairs of eyes. But for some reason the thought of doing this sounds a hundred times worse. He can feel his insides churning and sweat is starting to form on his palms. Sure, sex is Harry’s job and it has been for as long as he can remember. He doesn’t mind having a crowd of people watching him anymore, and everything is always quite professional. At the beginning things might have been a bit challenging but now it’s almost second nature. This, though, is more distressing than anything he has ever done before.

2) Incalescent | Explicit | 5,649 words

The onset of heat is something Louis still hasn’t learned to recognize.

3) You Step Where Words Are Written, Delicate Under Your Feet | Mature | 6,495 words

Prompt 513: A fic where Louis gives Harry a footjob over his pants while they're watching TV and Harry finds out he has a thing for Louis' feet.

4) Kiss It Better | Mature | 8,080 words

Harry shakes his head with a light laugh and leans down to kiss him again which Louis happily accepts even if he is a little confused by the reaction. "Baby, not a night has gone by that I haven't thought about you in my bed, naked, and begging for my cock." Blinking up at him with wide eyes, Louis opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. While they did flirt a lot over the last few weeks, Harry had never said anything like that. It shocks him as much as it turns him on. "News to me." "I won't lie and say I like random hookups or casual sex, but to me this isn't what that is." Louis swallows thickly, unsure of what to say to that but once again Harry gives him an out. "So, If you want we can stay up here and I can show you all the things I've thought about doing to you." Another kiss, quick and sweet. "Or, we can go back downstairs and we'll dance all night."

5) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8,854 words

“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind. Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic. “I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.” Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.

6) I Would Wait Forever (And Ever) | Not Rated | 10,018 words

Louis is brave but has the worst timing in the world, Harry doesn't want to lose his best friend and they just don't communicate enough.

7) If I Saw You Every Day Forever | Mature | 10,685 words

There really should be a statute on the number of dates one can go to because how much longer does Louis have to suffer through this? A modern AU in which Louis might have accidentally signed up for something he probably shouldn't.

8) Wait Until You're Sure | Explicit | 13,042 words

Prompt 465: Louis and Harry are best friends who made a pact. If neither of them has found love by the time they’re 30, then they’ll get married. It was all laughter and fun until Harry realizes they’re celebrating his 30th birthday and in a few months, Louis is gonna be 30 too. So, he struggles to find someone for Louis to avoid being together, but Louis just keeps rejecting all men Harry introduces to him (because he has feeling for him, of course), which really upsets Harry. They argue about that and Louis says something like “wow, it’s that bad to be with me?,” accepting that Harry simply doesn’t feel the same. Louis moves for a couple of months with another friend and Harry has all this time to understand his feelings, realizing that he loves Louis too and wants to be with him. But when he goes to tell him, Louis is already seeing someone else. So what’s Harry gonna do to get Louis back?

9) Candle Wax & Polaroids On The Hardwood Floor | Explicit | 13,082 words

Prompt 463: Clumsy modern witch Louis AU where he accidentally gives his roommate Harry a love potion and he has a crisis because he thinks he will get in trouble with the law for technically poisoning someone and Harry’s heart eyes aren’t helping.

10) Blackberries And Cherries | Explicit | 13,894 words

Louis is a witch and Harry is his human friend. When Harry needs help focusing on his schoolwork, the obvious solution is to ask Louis for a potion. You could say things don’t go quite right.

11) Bend The Rules | Explicit | 16,823 words

Prompt 588: Lous hires a ‘ghost cooking’ service because his family is worried he’s not eating well and he wants to impress them by showing them what an amazing cook he’s become. The service includes sending a discreet cook to your house and have them get everything ready so that you only serve and take the credit. Problem is, his sisters (can be OCs if that’s more comfortable) get to his flat earlier than planned and the actual cook has to hide in the master bathroom for hours. Louis is mortified. The cook is amused and helps him to clean and well. Gives him a thorough service. Feel free to pick your fave as the cook.

12) Swap Me For Your Shadow | Explicit | 16,829 words

If Louis thought being in love with his best friend was a knife that continually twisted into his heart before, it was nothing compared to when Harry started to go around talking about having fallen for someone else. A 5+1 fic; 5 times Louis has to listen to Harry’s vague confessions of love for his ‘omega friend’ and the 1 time Louis snaps and confesses his love for Harry.

13) Sometimes A Fantasy | Explicit | 18,654 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.

14) Lonely Shadow Dancers | Explicit |20,838 words

“Mm,” Harry’s arms circle him, and their fumbling somehow turns into a cuddle session, “still can’t believe we’re here together.” Growing up with someone, one tends to become used to another. Used to the mannerisms and personality of them. Used to the changes and the things that stay the same. Harry hit puberty and sprung up into this cheeky curly flirt of an alpha and Louis still hasn’t found the time to get used to it. His stomach flutters and he bites back a stupid smile and wonders if he ever will.

15) The Mess We Created | Explicit | 21,099 words

An innocent one night stand changed into something more than that.

16) Not Safe For Work | Explicit | 23,295 words

I want to drown myself in Harry’s scent until I smell like him. “I think I'm open to trying that too. Sounds very good.” Louis shakes his head a little to get out of the Harry’s-scent-spiral. “Huh?” “The dish your finger's pointing at. I thought that might be what you’re choosing?” “Oh. Yeah.”

17) Sweet Like Honey | Explicit | 33,117 words

Weeks of flat shopping with their limited budget with Louis as a librarian aid and Harry as a barista and arguments about whether a balcony or extended bathroom suite were more important (Harry wanted to be able to feel the crisp night’s air and watch the sun set and Louis just wanted to take long bubble baths) led to them stumbling across the perfect fit. A small flat only ten minutes from campus with a cramped but lovely balcony and an included bath. It’s affordable too… well, sort of. But they always manage. Louis picks up more shifts as an aid, adapting a habit of bringing his Psych textbooks and homework with him to finish in between duties, and later his script so he can quietly practice lines with little distraction. Harry also increases his number of shifts at the cafe and valiantly endures the nasty customers who for some reason flock to their establishment like moths to a flame. For a while, it’s enough.

18) Once Burnt, Twice Shy | Explicit | 52,644 words

Louis and Harry are polar opposites in every way. Where Louis is a bestselling author from the city, Harry is a small-town firefighter who's never left his home. Where Louis is spontaneous and spirited, Harry is introverted and calm, never straying from routine. When an ill-fated accident and an exceptionally intelligent tabby bring them together, they are forced to confront their pasts and forge a better beginning for themselves. Will sparks fly, or will it all go up in flames?

19) Gallery Of Us | Explicit | 55,778 words

Harry knew what he was doing in life, everything laid out in black-and-white, each day pleasantly predictable. Cue lively art student, Louis, trying to find his place. An almost insufferably happy person who sometimes forgets to hide the way they feel meets the person who is diligent enough to notice and determined to make a difference.

20) If You’re Out There (I’ll Find You Somehow) | Explicit | 55,916 words

Harry looks so intensely into Louis’ eyes it’s as though he’s reaching in and touching his very soul. “I never thought… I never… I’ve been searching for so long, Louis, but I never gave up. I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop trying,” Harry says, bottom lip trembling as he strokes the backs of Louis’ knuckles. “I just knew that if you were out there, I’d find you somehow.”

21) It’s Golden, Like Daylight | Explicit | 61,496 words

"I actually think you might be onto something.” Harry’s eyes widened. “You mean…” Louis nodded. “As crazy and insane as this, this might just solve both of our problems.” “Are you saying you’re in?” Harry asked. “I’m in.”

22) Derail The Mind Of Me | Explicit | 77,323 words

Beside the photograph of a gaunt, pale face spattered with blood and lips torn into a Glasgow smile was a bloodied object, crumpled and stained almost to the point of unrecognition. Another photo showed the object shoved into the woman’s mouth. While Harry leaned forward to get a closer look, Louis scrunched up his nose and purposefully kept his gaze locked on his computer screen, refusing to so much as glance at the gruesome images the rest of the team examined. “What is that?” Zayn frowned. “Is that a tarot card?”

23) Ghost Note Symphony | Explicit | 96,426 words

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago. It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to. That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

24) Our Endless Numbered Days | Explicit | 120,815 words

“Harry?” whispered Louis, his mouth dry, his nose pressing against the other’s warm skin. “Mh?” Harry’s humming was gentle, his fingers lightly caressing the younger boy’s arm, his chest steadily rising and falling beneath Louis’ cheek. A couple of seconds passed, and Louis looked up at him in the darkness of the cave, barely able to make out the expression on his face. When he tried to inhale deeply, his breath hitched. He struggled to find the words to tell Harry what he was thinking about. Another couple of seconds passed, and Louis listened to the reassuring beating of the prince’s heart beneath his cheek. He couldn’t. “Nothing,” he whispered, his voice weak. I think you’re half of my soul.

25) Love Will Tear Us Apart | Mature | 204,151 words

It was only meant to be a one night thing, but when the country goes into lockdown, Louis Tomlinson finds himself stuck in windsor castle, in company of his royal fucking highness, Harry, the prince of England.

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

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #fic recs #blp #blp fic recs #friends to lovers

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aelinschild · 1 year ago

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Paradigm; side by side

˙✧˖ March 1st: Morning

Main Masterlist | Paradigm; side by side Masterlist |

SYNOPSIS: Storms often come after the sun. WORDCOUNT: 620 WARNINGS: none!

Huge thank you to @throneofglassmicrofics for organizing! Make sure to check out other works over on their account!

There was a lulling of delayed movement, calm strokes repeated endlessly.

Just outside of the rolled-down window, wind passing by in a gentle caress. Twisting and twining her hair, braiding it together by the hand of nature. Glaring off the water and reflected in burnished irises. The sun had only begun its slow trek across the sky.

Great strokes of pinks and oranges, bright as a summer garden. Weaving in, out, around clouds heavy from a misty evening.

Her fingers tapped a unconscious beat on the steering wheel, gold heirloom rings clicking gently. Warmed from the heat of the blood pulsing under fair skin; soaking up the dregs of sunlight as it passes through her car.

Aelin was less nervous now than she was at the beginning of her trip. Setting off before her sleeping city rose, closing doors and locking them with a finality that shook her hands. Counting steps, breaths, blinks. Everything that she was, left on the cold pavement. Watching in acquiescence, cool indifference behind it.

The heat of the now rising sun warmed the piece of her she had forgotten of.

From her last stop on the great stretch of highway, she could estimate the time to her destination. Minutes, now. A map highlighted with cherished stationary sat beside her, a companion in spirit. Alongside the rest of her worldly possessions, sprawling from the small space of the boot.

Time was passing differently, like shedding the weight of a clocks hand, replacing it with a shadow. Flowing naturally, unhurried in all aspects. There was no urge to choke the seconds out, to pause the current to admire the sea. Aelin felt the change in her bones, just as the scene from her fantasies appeared.

A cottage by the sea.

Two weeks ago, there was an explicit end. She had to be out, out, out. Her small apartment in the city was no longer hers, the lease trickling away, exchanging her for someone new. She had nowhere to go. That was until she found Rowan.

The advert was… unfortunate. Lacked the geniality one would assume came with a seaside cottage. Each picture was slightly askew, just a fraction off its axis. Snapped like an afterthought. Described in clinical terms; two bedroom, two bathroom, small kitchen, and good outdoor space.

The woman – Rowan – was kind enough. The rent was shockingly economical. A deal far too good to be true, Aelin had thought. No chance this was really an opportunity that had just… appeared for her. So, she had sought out the catch.

But, there was none.

Rowan had been straightforward in her communication, expectations, and dealings. And days later Aelin had boxed her life away, tucked into a rusting car. Enough cash for the first few months of rent, and a box of pastries and some wildflowers as a thank-you gift.

Stood before the seafoam coloured front door, surrounded by a weather worn wrap-around porch, her mind wandered. Imagining herself out here, sat under the sky as it danced through its emotive number. Scribbling away in notebooks, listening to the ruffle of the grass. Living in step with a mighty beast, watching its crawl up the surf. Following its retreat.

Too good to be true.

She had knocked, had texted an hour ago that she would be on the final leg of the journey. Hand clasped soundly around the wildflowers, the smell of jam scones. The pitter-patter of footsteps rose. They sounded… heavier?

Just as Aelin had moved to peer into the open window, curtains pushed back, seafoam shifted to cotton, shifted to a man.

“Aelin,” He spoke, voice like a storm crashing on the rocks of a forsaken shore, “You’re earlier than I had expected. Come in.”

Taglist: @mariaofdoranelle , @goddess-aelin

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

#throne of glass microfics #rowaelin #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin fanfiction #aelin x rowan #aelin galythinius #rowan x aelin #rowaelin au #throne of glass fic #sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm #aelinschild

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onebraincell-itmiebcraft · 1 year ago

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Okay time for the liveblogging of real life in order (liveblogging life SMP call that lifeblogging) I have never done this b4 be easy on me

Grian

I've already watched his perspective at like 5 in the morning but heyyyyy nothing wrong with rewatching with added non sleep deprived commentary but also not really memories of what I originally thought watching this too :^))

I remember being so stunned they called it real life and the anatomically correct heart 🫀tickled my funny bone heeheehoo hahaha

Thought when grian said replay 3rd life I thought they'd reenact it 😭

We live in a society taxes man (I could ramble about it)

GRIAN IRL FACE!!!

has anyone fell over btw?

No lie that B can BIG

Reminds me of slimecicle jshitt and traves VR Minecraft where Travis got progressively shorter what a laugh

Does Scott ever see his scream

Is it take the Mick or take the nick love that idiom

RENDOG!

Scar looks like a child doing that thing

Awww hug

ABUSE

scar take the headset off dzuh 🫀🫀🫀

Grian literally me balance issues

Yugioh????

I called it, scar would say he's American 😎

I'm eating dinner while watching this at the same time what fun w

Giran called solidaritygaming jimmy no way + he died first fr this time + loud "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" Perfectly timed his mic peaking is iconic

Ha haa!

He ear him bread

Really putting the mine in craft for Minecraft

reminds me of secret life EP 4 and scar is sweaty

*scar noises*

How did scar drop his phone???

Check your wrist? More like check your a- (tom cardy référence)

I love the way VR makes you hit stuff goofy

Can you run in game if you irl

(watch him die)

Haha he died

Why Jim is he sabotaging him

Jim Jim Jim gym gym

Doesn't Jim die here oh LMFAO he does

Jimmy you are famous to me

(scout voice) Chicken

How did scar die???

I love how vr makes them expressive Jim pointing to village house is so funny

There's only one bed

Wtf is happening in top right corner in 9min 30 sec

Ayyyyy there's grian the maniac love the casual position of the arms

Last life you can join me moment

Egg

Grian gaslighting

Jimmy you wanna dance quote of the year

PvP is so silly

Skizz is fighting a losing battle Jim killed him icon

I love how grian and Jim's yells overlap there's probably something music theory there idk

Awww scar he's so funny

Go pick him up from daycare haha

Facing away from the camera we live in a society

OHHHHH impulse big smart man Jimmy's arm movements are so smooth it's solly

Jimmy immediately leaving for fish cocomelon brain I agree

Love the arm movements

Lol they actually like down

It's okay grian scuffed is worth celebrating

Has anyone layed on their side

Friend just texted me about my monologue what am I doing man I have an audition tomorrow

Anyway Minecraft vr

The lying down model inventory so goofy

Rewatching the bread scene no wonder tumblr loves it looks like Jim jam actually has a mouth 👄

Impulsesv guess the build sheep flashbacks

Best sleepover

Polyamorous tony (died)

Sleepover reminds me of crazy Christmas w/gem and pearl

Grown men learn how to close doors

Minecraft fatshaming grian smh my head

Man thought it was more than Joel there + o2 max(xing) scar love it (i use maxxing ironically) (it's such a stupid suffix to me linguistically funny) (I hate incels) (don't cancel me tumblr) (I love all genders)

Two steps: die, and die

Jimmy isn't on fire??

Casual "it burns so much!" Love it

Wait right Jim still has a wooden sword

Joel Joel Joel Joel you know that one part in waiting for Godot where they just go back and forth in saying aideu yeah

So silly

Jim saying get in British people man

"noffing" - joel is it a British thing

Love Joel screaming he's so malding

Just remembered how scary heights are in VR because I thought for a second "why don't they jump down? are they stupid?" (Meme Reference) (Didn't actually think that) ("Stupid" is kinda stupid but I digress)

Hole

Boob stroke

Does scar enjoy the swimming

Why *does* swimming cause motion sickness anyway

Why bucket scar (this is a bucket)

Brain eating amoeba

GOON SQUAD!!!

Love Grian's arm movements I really did thonk Jim was gonna win for the funnies

He says come here weirdly

The joy of killing

Is Jim punching

It's okay hiking simulation

Go Jim go what a gamer boy

I remember the triple dog door dugout is like... Gem's? Joel's? Uhhhh I fotgor

Concussion era

Fresh meat

I just love their dynamics

JIM STOP SOUNDING LIKE THAT it's like his eyes are 🥺 and his mouth is boowomp spongebob like he's got tears in eyes scrimblo sounding ass

Ohhh there's my favourite theatre kids

'orrible

Joel saying boys make me happy

Wait that can misinterpreted

Joel saying "boys" sounds pleasant to my ears

I remember watching this part and going GRIAN FIRST OUT HUH???

awww the funnies

Love the way gem says "we're the last Grians. Grians? Greens!" It's like... Spunky

Grian falling reminds me of my scuffed keyboard when it registers a button press as a hold and then I like never stop walking right *sigh*

The downward spiral by nine inch nials

Ascending is TRUE watcher lore

Oh the music is so cute

Bye scar! Bye Joel!

Okay never let me liveblog cook again i kinda listened to the vid instead of watching reading this does not make sense to anyone but me reference hell half formulated thoughts RIP BOZO HAHA

Maybe I'll like do it in 5 mins chunks for JJJJJJoel and the next ones onward I spent like an hour on this wayyyyy too long for incomplete sentences

End

#real life smp #real life #real life spoilers #rlsmp #grian #liveblogging #life series #life smp #trafficblr #what is wrong with me #rlsmp liveblogging

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tempestaurora · 9 months ago

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the child soldier summer tour

13k | bnha | bakugou & class 1-a, bakugou & midoriya, bakugou/kirishima

The scheduling gods – AKA Yaoyorozu Momo and Iida Tenya – slapped down the papers on the kitchen table. There were way too many people in Jirou’s apartment, but Bakugou was just thankful that they’d decided not to cram his living room for this. Usually, they liked to, because he had the biggest living space seeing as his place came with three obnoxious roommates, but today they’d all met at Jirou’s and Jirou had only acted totally fine with twenty people shoved into her little two-bed box that she shared with Ashido, and now they were all climbing over each other to see the meticulous schedule their ex-class presidents had put together for the summer.

“This is insane—when are we supposed to pee?” Kaminari yelped, as Kirishima complained, “Three back-to-back – are you forgetting we’re heroes too?”

“Bathroom breaks will be scheduled on a day-to-day basis,” Yaomomo said, Iida chopping the air behind her.

“The schedule has been designed with heroics in mind!” he cried. “This way, everyone can attend an equal number of events, while also maintaining their agency contracts. We will have handouts for everyone to take back to their agencies!”

“This is amazing, guys,” Deku gushed. Bakugou shoved himself past Sero to get a look. True to form, the schedule was a colour-coded nightmare of thirty-six tour dates across twenty-nine locations in Japan over only the two months of summer. The system was divided equally between the five members of the band who had to appear at every concert (for obvious reasons) and the fifteen remaining ex-classmates who insisted that they, too, were also part of the band and would be coming along to roadie, dance, or just take selfies backstage and get in the way.

Bakugou’s opinion on the whole tour had originally been fuck that, if I’m gonna be a hero, I can’t waste an entire summer playing music, followed by three days of yelling and the eventual decision that if he didn’t spend a summer playing music now, when the hell would he ever get the chance to do it again?

They were freshly twenty, some of them still holding onto the reins of nineteen, and they’d only been out of Yuuei for a year. Only experienced the world of being rookie heroes for twelve short months and already it was more than they’d bargained for. Their second and third years in school had been downright peaceful compared to that hellish first, and maybe Bakugou would’ve preferred it if they had been just as dangerous – they’d gone soft, almost, in that time. Memories of the war had finally started to fade, and peacetime was a good look on them all. They were well-rested, therapized, on top of their studies and throwing late night parties in their dorms – when they’d been kicked out onto the streets of Japan, expected to rent an apartment and go to a job and be famous fucking heroes, the culture shock had damn near knocked half of them on their asses.

Bakugou didn’t want or need a break – but they were a damn good band, and there was no time he saw for himself in the next twenty years that would allow them to do a tour like this again.

When he’d consented to the band at one of their jam nights, they’d all fucking cheered. Then they’d added him into the groupchat with the rest of the class that they’d made three days before, fully knowing he would change his mind.

“Alright, everyone take a copy,” Yaomomo continued. “Then check it over – you have one calendar week to return with any necessary changes before we confirm bookings with the venues. It’s alright if you need to switch, just let us know by the deadline.”

Bakugou slumped into the chair opposite Best Jeanist. He’d signed on for eighteen months at the agency, his last months falling at the end of summer. He watched Jeanist’s eyebrows vanish under his hair as he read over the schedule.

“Well, this is organised – who put this together?”

“Creati and Ingenium,” he replied, tipping his head back. Even the ceiling was obnoxiously bedazzled. A disco ball hung from the centre; somewhere around the building, Aoyama was interning – a common appreciation for Best Jeanist (albeit for entirely different reasons) was the only thing the two had in common. Aoyama was a year behind everyone else since the whole, you know, All For One traitor shit, but he was pulling it back, and Bakugou respected the drive if nothing else.

“I would expect nothing less from them,” Jeanist mused. “I can’t say I’m surprised, as you warned me just how much time you would be spending on this during the summer, but I’m happy to sign it all off.”

Bakugou tilted his head forward. He’d expected even the slightest negotiation. “You are.”

“Of course. Bakugou, your work has been admirable and impressive this past year, but you haven’t taken a single day of holiday and there comes a point when that becomes a work violation as an employer. So I’m thrilled to roll over your unused holiday days into this calendar year so you can go on this tour.”

Bakugou raised an eyebrow. Jeanist had a way of speaking like he was always on camera, but there were none in here and he wasn’t about to be bullshitted by his own boss. “Alright, now tell me what you really think.”

He could see Jeanist’s smile beyond the high collar. “I think…” he hummed. “Approximately three years ago, when you were barely sixteen, you died, Katsuki.” Bakugou swallowed, tensing at the given name. “You then got up and kept going. You took down All For One, you ploughed through months of gruelling rehabilitation and graduated third in your class two years later without so much as a single break.”

“I went home for Christmas,” Bakugou muttered.

Jeanist continued anyway, “You haven’t done anything for yourself in all the time I’ve known you. No—that’s a lie. You joined a band. But even that, initially, was to cheer up your fellow students who had been put out by your class’ misfortune. So, if this band is the one thing you let yourself enjoy, away from being a hero, I would be a terrible employer, and a terrible friend, to not allow you time to take part in it. And I hope that in return – although, really, it would be tacky to get any sort of thanks for this – I would appreciate a single ticket to see your finale show in Musutafu.”

Bakugou blinked. Jeanist stared. Bakugou’s mouth curled into the sharp kind of smile.

“I think I can swing a ticket.”

“Then I wish you all the best of luck on your tour,” Jeanist said. “Let me know what dates you can work, and if you need any help choosing what to do after your contract runs out.”

COMING TO A CITY/TOWN/NONDESCRIPT WAREHOUSE NEAR YOU

THIS SUMMER

A BAND: THE CHILD SOLDIER SUMMER TOUR

continue reading on ao3

#bnha #mha #mha spoilers #bnha spoilers #bakugou katsuki #talk #listen i worked hard on this and im gonna yell about it for a while #its pretty good

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deep-hearts-core · 2 months ago

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If you need new music to listen to and don't mind it being a little weird, read this post

A post Eurovision preselection season roundup of What I Liked. Links on song titles go to Spotify unless otherwise noted.

If you don't know what a Eurovision preselection is... like, it's what it sounds like. Before Eurovision some countries will have a televised pre-selection to pick their song. These usually happen from December to March and we had the last ones last weekend, soooo... here. Eurovision as an entity has some. Uh. Some problems, recently, but I like following the preselections because I can find new music I wouldn't otherwise have listened to! A cheat code for broadening my horizons, if you will.

Top five picks here, as a teaser; everything else in kind of random order under the cut. Also viewable on Dreamwidth. If you listened to and liked anything on this list, you have to tell me! Contractually!

Unluckiest Boy Alive - Adel the Second (Denmark): Tongue-in-cheek song about feeling like you're the Worst Most Put Upon Saddest Wet Cat and Nobody's Problems Could Possibly Be Worse. I think it's very fun and good perspective.

Extra - Fenksta (Croatia): older-style rap in Croatian about being offbeat quirky (or maybe having ADHD?).

Adamastor - Peculiar (Portugal): Belongs in a sci-fi thriller, a little bit. I had to look this up, but Adamastor was historically the personification of the Cape of Good Hope for Portuguese sailors? Its whole vibe is "you can't tame the sea" and it's appropriately epic.

The Water - Bel Tempo ft. LEGZDINA (Latvia): You can probably tell this was written by three people working in the British music industry because it's possibly the most polished, radio-friendly, mass-appeal song in this post (affectionate).

Hitaammin hautaan - Nelli Matula (Finland): Kind of ethereal polished Nordic pop? I love Nelli's airy high range. Live was good, watch it here.

Norway Last Song - Tone Damli: The first song of the season that actually had me jamming and dancing on first listen. Perfectly nice nu-disco. Sulale - Nora Jabri: Not entirely obvious on the lyrics alone, this song is about her dad/her Iraqi heritage. I think it's clever in its simplicity.

Luxembourg Gambler's Song - One Last Time: Admittedly kind of a guilty pleasure song for me. Ultimately a silly cheesy rock song written by a band whose musical inspirations unfortunately include Nickelback.

Latvia Zelts - KoBra: Stripped-back slow duet in Latvian. Lovable - Marta: In January I described a song as "knockoff Latvian Carly Rae Jepsen". That's this one. Līgo - The Ludvig: Eurovision has had a tendency towards folk-inspired dance bangers lately and this is a very good example. Stronger - Luka: Delicate uplifting songwritergirl music, ft. both electric and acoustic guitar.

Spain La casa - Celine Van Heel: Dutch girl goes salsa, actually pulls it off. No lo ves - Henry Semler: TikTok sadboy music that I don't think actually did that well with the youths tm. But I liked it. Me gustas tú - K!NGDOM: Good going-out-dancing music. Very slightly '00s-'10s. I've had a really good time checking out K!NGDOM's other songs. Te escribo en el cielo - Lucas Bun: Extremely emotive ballad about missing someone (?), maybe his mom (?). Live performance was good, watch it here.

Finland Aina - Viivi: Soundtrack-y slow love song that is probably going to be played at Finnish weddings for the rest of time. Sekaisin - Costee: This singer is I think primarily a rapper but he's singing here. Somewhat rock/alt adjacent?

Malta Heaven Sent - Kristy Spiteri: Popera track written by a songwriter I really love. I'm still mad this didn't win. Live was good, watch it here. Juno - Victoria Sciberras: Female empowerment Europop song about calling down the heavens on the ones that have done you wrong. Live was good (here) but, uh, mind the outfit lol Yo Listen - Martina Borg: It's sort of... funk? I don't know enough about funk music to say this confidently but it's a chill jam. Unheard - Krista Šujak: Malta goes Olivia Rodrigo. The live performance (here) kind of took it up a level, I wasn't so crazy about it before but playlisted it immediately after the live.

Poland Lusterka - SW@DA x Niczos: Minority language, uhhh... techno-ish? Hold the Light - Dominik Dudek: The songwriter from Heaven Sent is also on here. Slow love song, kinda rhythmic-piano driven in a basic way? About how his partner has supported him which I think is sweet.

Estonia Last to Know - Elysa: Some of the most nonsense lyrics out of all the songs I'm recommending but she has a nice voice. Extremely theatrical song about being on the wrong side of an affair. Armageddon - Minimal Wind: For the sad girl indie enjoyers in your life. My roommate is like, a soft wlw stereotype and this is one I feel comfortable putting on at her parties.

Denmark Proud - Tim Schou: Singer-songwritery. Ostensibly about his experience in the music industry but it reads as a coming-out song. Live here.

Portugal Lisboa - Capital da Bulgária: More sad girl indie, this time in Portuguese! If you hate landlords/gentrification you should look up the lyrics to this song because you will like them. Tristeza - Josh: Epic instrumental at the proportions of (but not SIMILAR to) Adamastor and VERY showy vocals, in a good way.

Sweden Revolution - Måns Zelmerlöw: Generically uplifting "the world doesn't spin without the everyman" pop song. Very... Swedish? Remember in 2012 when Avicii was popular, but also it's not like that? I don't really know how else to describe this lol it's mostly a redux of his 2015 winning entry. The live is the best way to experience this because his positivity really sells it. Life Again - Annika Wickihalder: I just think it's fun! It's so cute, such a sweet song. Another one really elevated by a good-vibes live. Good for Ryn Weaver listeners. 24k Gold - Malou Prytz: "Hot girl at the bar" music. Repetitive but good for when you're feeling yourself. Show Me What Love Is - Erik Segerstedt: Mid-aughts to early-tens dad radio music.

Lithuania Tavo akys - Katarsis: Dark, uh, Wikipedia says they're post-punk? This won and is going to Eurovision.

Bonus round: Song was eh, live performance is worth watching (lives, not Spotify, linked) Tule (Estonia): Country-folk-something. Please understand, I HATED this before watching it live but the performance kind of takes it to a new level. Frozen (Estonia): It has this futuristic-y beat underneath smooth 80s vocals/lyrics about a breakup. Somehow it works. Still I Rise (Malta): Self-empowerment song, radio-friendly in a more modern and less totally generic way than ones in, say, Sweden. Mostly impressed at her vocal ability live but the other stage elements were cool too I guess Į saldumą (Lithuania): Kind of dark/creepy/witchy but the onstage vibe isn't necessarily like that. She's alone onstage and manages to make it entirely hers. Ai senhor! (Portugal): Also slightly creepy and witchy but in a totally different way? Lots and lots of drums. This is about climate change. Kind (Slovenia): I'll be honest this isn't that cute it belongs in a kids musical or perhaps movie soundtrack but this kid is so earnest. Trendseter (Serbia): Rock drums and brass instruments. Kind of traditional Balkan sound but also not. Worth a watch for the sheep on the background LED. Bara Bada Bastu (Sweden): If you've heard anything about NF season that wasn't from me, it was about this. Massive fan favourite, beat Revolution which was the "safe bet", extremely silly good vibes song about just taking a sauna!

#shispeak #eurovision

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