#and I was listening to some Radio Company song of other

[jokeroutsubs]

[📝 ENG translation] Joker Out pleased 50 chosen fans the night before the release of a new album

Original article written by Niko Hari for RTV MMC, published 15.11.2024. English translation by a member of JokerOutSubs, review by IG 10_anja, proofread by @flowerlotus8

The fans listened to five new songs for the first time in the listening room of Val 202.

The night right before the release of Joker Out's third album, 50 chosen fans listened to the band's five freshest songs for the first time. Through their song selection, the members exposed the album's stylistic diversity, which will be presented in concert form at the end of the month.

The most loyal fans waited for more than 800 days for the release of Joker Out's third studio album Souvenir Pop.

(Ph: MMC RTV SLO)

After a few days of the release of Joker Out's second LP Demoni, the Slovenian public was convinced by how quickly their fans fall in love with new music since the fans managed to memorise the lyrics of almost the entire album in a short amount of time and were, at the surprise of everybody, even the band, singing along with Bojan Cvjetićanin at the top of their lungs.

This time, around 50 lucky fans got the opportunity to "consume" the band's new music before the other mere mortals at Val 202's listening room.

The fans listened to five songs from the album Souvenir Pop with the company of Andrej Karoli, the editor and radio presenter on Val 202, who can be at least partially credited for the renaissance of Slovenian pop due to his intense playing of young local bands on the radio waves.

First, Joker Out pleased the fans by playing the acoustic version of the already well known hit 'Novi Val' and soon after, the first notes of the new songs were heard in studio 26. It was a little bit anticlimactic since the songs were not played live, however, the band listened to the studio versions of the songs alongside the 50 fans.

(Ph: Kaja Ravnak/Val 202)

On the other hand, the fans were able to get to know the album best through the recorded songs. The honour of choosing the first song went to Karolij, who first offered the fans the song 'Sonce'. He admitted that all of the members of the band were surprised by his song selection, considering the song is quite gloomy and at the same time carries a heavy message.

"'Sonce' is actually a story in which a dead son talks to his mother who is alive. The story was directly inspired by the current situation in Palestine. Some people thought that it's a love song when I showed them the song without context, but it's not. Jan took over the task of writing the music to the lyrics. The entire arrangement is Jan playing the piano. The story could not be told more beautifully through music." said Cvjetićanin.

An extreme move away from Umazane Misli

Immediately after the first song, it was obvious that Souvenir Pop would not be an album of radio hits but rather a mature product of music, which also highlights the band's musical development. From songs off the album Umazane misli, which shot the band to the very top of the Slovenian music scene, and with the move away from Demoni, the boys showed the public can relate to the different styles of music they create.

The third album confirmed this move, since the chosen five songs showcased a powerful genre, textual and linguistic diversity as well as the band's ability to step-up with every album, which was appreciated at the first listen by the fans too.

"At the start I was very sceptical of the lyrics, since the song was originally written in English. We really liked it, besides, it's difficult to let go of something that's familiar, but Bojan convinced us to let him also have this song in Slovenian. He was right, the song written in this form was missing for me on this album." said Kris Guštin about the second song of the evening and Bojan added that him and Kris have a completely different interpretation of the song:

"'Mesto duhov' is the reflection of when I realised for the first time in my life that we as a society fell into a very negative mindset. People have a defensive aura around them, always on guard - which is normal when we see everything go in the opposite direction from what we want every day." He also added that this is the first lyric he wrote in which he was 100% pessimistic.

They observed the fans' reactions

If the gloomy sound of the song titled 'Sonce' was surprising, it was even more unexpected to hear much upbeat rhythms in a song titled 'Mesto duhov.' The song ticks all the expectations of a quality modern rock song, and in the chorus, the music and the lyrics are almost ironically cute. Karoli also noticed the discrepancy: "How can you be sad and write pa, pa, pa ..."

The guys attributed the reason to the fusion of the Slovenian and English versions of the song, and the most (un)obvious indicator of the fusion is certainly the guitar solo, which in the final version still "sings" the lyrics of the original version in Morse code. Even before the first song, Karoli asked the audience to leave their mobile phones in their pockets this time, as this is the only way they will be able to fully enjoy the new songs.

Between the ballads, Lina, a fan, was completely engrossed in the music and with closed eyes took in every note. "I didn't expect for it to be as good as it was, and I had high expectations. I really liked it, I just closed my eyes and really felt the music. Although I'm a lover of rock, I really liked the diversity of the album.

"I enjoyed 'Mesto duhov' the most. Obviously I like the other hits as well, but 'Mesto duhov' and 'Sonce' touched me the most. I thought that they would perform the songs live, but just listening to the tracks was okay too, since we could also observe them and how they listen to their own music." she told us.

Before playing the third track, Karoli asked the boys about how they feel when they listen to their own songs with their fans and what they do while listening. "I am constantly looking at the reactions. With this song especially, I was observing how you will react to the chorus." admitted Nace Jordan to the 50 fans.

Joker Out explained that the final version of 'Lips' did not sound anything like the first, since they wanted to at least partially record it in French. "At the start, it was a very Franz Ferdinant rock 'n' roll song. The idea was to even invite a French singer to collaborate on this track. But then it quickly went down the drain since we realised that none of us knows French." said Cvjetićanin before the premiere of this song.

Instead of the originally intended rock song, the audience received a complex and musically multi-layered track, which probably will never be the most desired song at concerts, but Joker Out still added one of the highest quality tracks to their collection to date. "I believe that all lovers of pop music would like to have as many hits as possible, but on the other hand I'm happy that the band makes music that carries weight and stands on its own," approved the music editor of Val 202.

He added that Jure Maček will not have much to do due to the absence of acoustic drums, but Jure quickly reminded him that he plays one part in the old-fashioned way at concerts. Nace also said that throughout the entire song, we can hear a heartbeat in the background.

The favourite song from the album

Then followed the song which was, based on the reactions, the most liked by the audience and at the same time the song 'Muzika za Decu,' which was described by Karoli as a tribute to Partibrejkers (a well-known old Serbian rock band), is probably also the one that will play the most on the Slovenian radio.

If the audience was enjoying the previous songs by closing their eyes and swaying to the music, the penultimate song broke the peace, like a crystal in a glass factory shattering during an earthquake of the smallest magnitude. "'Muzika za decu' was definitely the best song today," was what a group of girls agreed while exiting the studio satisfied after listening to all the songs. The last song on the list of the new songs was 'Ako toga više neče biti.'

"This is Bojan and I's favourite song on this album," told Karoli to the audience before listening to the last song off the new album and added that this song, at least in terms of lyrics, is a description of a middle-aged man after going through a truly difficult divorce. Still a sad ballad, but sounding more optimistic than let's say 'Sonce', again had the audience closing their eyes and all that was left was to enjoy it.

"This song will always be relevant after every broken heart. I can't wait for the concert performance," is how Karoli finished the listening. After the "official" part, fans were given a rare opportunity to ask the band practically anything. Until the end of the session, various questions were asked about the album, songs, clothes and the friendship between band members.

The visibly delighted group of mostly female fans (there were also some male fans of Joker Out) then got a few minutes to capture the moment in front of the cameras. All that remained was the wait until midnight, when the fans of the band could listen through the entire album for the first time, on which Joker Out included 10 songs.

[didsomeonesaybuffet]

It isn’t often Dean gets to enjoy the quiet, so for now he relishes it. Feeling a warm spring breeze gracing the back of his neck and watching the cherry blossom petals dancing lazily to the sun drenched grass, which is still slick and glistening with morning dew – emerald green against the first hints of blue in the flowers that are just beginning to consider making their debut appearance for the year.

He looks up from the book he’s been pouring over – some old mushy romance novel he picked up from a yard sale a few towns back. He told Sam it was a sort of action thing; he told Cas the truth.

He lifts his face to the sun and lets the light just linger there, kissing each and every freckle as it warms him right to his core.

The Angel shifts beside him and a soft smile touches his lips. Slowly, he turns to face Cas, who is staring intently at the daisy between his index finger and thumb. Dean’s smile deepens as the warmth returns to his heart, this time without any involvement from the sun.

He fidgets, his arm brushing against Cas’, which seems to break whatever spell the daisy has on Cas, who looks at Dean with those soft blue eyes. At first he seems startled, as though he’d been as far from reality as anyone could be, but gazing into those green eyes that seem to have picked up some of the sun’s golden hues, he softens and grins.

‘Whatcha thinkin’ about, sunshine?’ Dean murmurs through his smile, all deep and honey-toned. Cas looks down at the flower in his fingers and then holds it up in front of Dean.

‘Just about the intricacy of this flower. Look at how perfect it is –‘ he passes the daisy to Dean, who holds it close to his face and considers it. ‘You see how the petals overlap? How the middle is such a bright yellow but none of the pollen stains the petals. And the very edges of the petals are pink – I just find them fascinating.’ He looks up at Dean, then, and almost forgets about the daisy as he takes in the soft way Dean considers the flower, the way the sunlight picks out each eyelash and the soft curve of Dean’s lips. Then Dean looks up at him and they share one of those smiles that makes Sam roll his eyes when he catches them.

Dean leans over and kisses Cas’ cheek before resting his head on the angel’s shoulder. He sighs deeply when Cas leans into him, inhaling the light scent of rose shampoo he’s always loved in Dean’s hair, before kissing the top of his head and relaxing into their usual relaxing-on-the-hood-of-the-car posture, which he’s sure he’d be happy to stay in forever, should the need arise.

In the back seat of the Impala, Sam looks up from the recipe book he picked up at that same yard sale (the cookies don’t sound too healthy, but they do sound good) to see why the sunlight was suddenly extinguished. He grins to himself, seeing his brother nestled into the Angel’s neck, Cas’ arm around Dean’s shoulder and their quiet mumbling carried into the car by the breeze.

‘Would you too get a room?’ He chides, holding back his laughter.

‘Shut it, bitch’ is all he gets back, but he can hear Cas’ affectionate eye roll and the smile in Dean’s voice.

Dean lifts his head from the Angel’s shoulder and rests his hand on top of Cas’, allowing their fingers to interlock a little and enjoying the way the sunlight glints off of the ring on the third finger on his left hand. ‘We should head off if we wanna make it for lunch – next town’s a couple hours away.’

Cas stands and pulls Dean with him, luring him into a tender kiss. Still smiling, he lets Dean go and walks back to the passenger door. Dean takes a moment to open his book, where he places the daisy that Cas gave him, taking one last wistful look at it before closing the pages and giving the book a gentle squeeze, hoping it would dry out nicely, just like all the others.

[fangirl-dot-com]

🚕Accidentally Kidnapping a Mafia Boss

*part of the reverse tropes series*

Pairing: MafiaBoss!Max Verstappen x UberDriver!Reader Genre: Crack/Humor/Fluff? Summary: Uber seemed like a brilliant plan to get money to buy a new car. However, a mistake has you picking up the wrong passenger. Pretty blue eyes turn dangerous when you notice the gun in his belt.

*this was actually so much fun to write! this is in no way dark whatsoever. it's super funny and the reader is pretty ditzy but it's all in good fun! hope you like it!*

TAG LIST CLOSED

You hummed to whatever tune was playing on your half-broken radio. Most of the lyrics came out as muffled voices, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Because like the radio, your car was almost dead. 

Key word being almost. 

You had bought the car at the beginning of your high school career and refused to give it up. But, your father had finally convinced you to buy a new one. However, buying a new car was expensive, hence why you were driving around town at 7 p.m. on a Friday night trying to find someone who needed an Uber. 

Your family had mentioned how dangerous it was to drive for the “taxi” company, but no one else was hiring at this time. 

“It’s an easy way to make bank,” you had told your very confused parents. 

Your hand came up and smacked the top of the dash, causing the radio to spam for a moment before finally, clear voices played out. However, your eyebrows furrowed once you could actually listen to the song. 

“This is not my playlist,” you muttered while trying to get your Bluetooth to come back on. Once your fingers reached the dials, your phone lit up with an Uber notification. 

“Finally.”

You quickly put in the address and drove down the street. Your humming resumed, playlist reaching out through the speaker. You hadn’t even glanced at where the location was, or you would have realized that you were going in the wrong direction. 

When you were supposed to be going further into the town, you were headed for the city. The only place your parents refused to let you drive. 

It might have to do with the local mafia war that was going on. Something about track limits or whatnot. However, that was not going to stop you from getting paid that night. 

You finally came to a stop at the corner of what you thought to be Fifth and Main, like your phone said to stop at. The actual corner was Fourth and Main, but you couldn’t tell because half of the word “fourth” was smudged with some type of brown substance. 

Your shoulders raised in a shrug while your gaze landed back on your phone. At least you were supposed to be picking up a nice older looking lady. That’s what your Uber app said anyway. You leaned forward in the driver’s seat, making the entire car squeak. Before you knew it, your fingers had started to tap along to the song that was still playing. 

The sound of the door opening and slamming shut caught your attention. 

“Drive!” you heard from behind you. 

Your entire body turned in the seat as you looked to the back row of your car. 

That was not a nice looking old lady. 

The man that now resided on the back road had a mean glare as his eyebrows cocked. Sea blue eyes met your own as the man leaned forward and pointed out the window. 

“I said drive, let’s go!” the accented voice yelled.  

If you had taken a moment to actually look at the man, you would have noticed his roughed up suit, along with the bright red splatters along his white dress shirt. And on his belt line, a gun seemed to be tucked. 

But you hadn’t noticed. 

“Yes sir!” you cheerfully said, putting the car into drive. A loud boom sounded outside the car, but your radio had decided to turn up full blast, masking the sound. Your car squeaked as it started to move away from the corner and farther along the road. 

The man in the back seat seemed agitated, but slowly relaxed the farther away you got on the highway. He had leaned back against the window and rubbed his eyes. You wanted to keep glancing back at him, but you needed to drive. When you noticed that the Uber app had not updated with his next location, you gathered the courage to speak. However, he beat you to it. 

“Is this your first time?” 

You sheepishly grinned back at him. “Yes, sir. Sorry, is it that noticeable?” 

A grunt escaped his lips. 

“The damn Get Away Car sticker on the back is not very inconspicuous. You need to get rid of it.” 

“Oh! So you don’t like Taylor Swift that much?” 

The man glared at you through the rearview mirror, before he shut his eyes. His hand waved at you through the gap between the front seats. 

“Just don’t miss the exit.” 

“Sir, you’ll need to put in your location first.” 

His eyes shot open. “I guess this is your first day. How did you ever get through training?” 

You glanced back. “Training? It was all online?” 

A huff only answered as he reached for what you hoped was a phone in his pocket. 

“I’ll have to let Lando know that online training will not work.” 

You let out a nervous giggle, noting that there was no “Lando” in the Uber training video. But, once again, the money promised kept you going down the highway. You kept glancing at your phone, hoping that the guy would just put his address in. Now you were getting annoyed.

“Sir, I really need the address or I’ll have to make you get out.” 

A click near your ear made you freeze. 

“Who do you think you are? Giving orders to de Leeuw.” 

You had definitely picked up the wrong person. You wanted to start explaining yourself, but the gun near your head made the words die out in your throat. You could feel his breath on your ear as he spoke. This would be hot, if you weren’t scared to lose your life. 

“Now, you’re going to tell me who you are and why you don’t know where the right exit is. Are you working for Hamilton? Vettel? Alonso?” 

You were so caught up in not wanting to die that you missed the car in front of you slamming on your breaks. You were thankful for your fast reflexes as your foot pressed down on the left pedal, making your car lurch to a halt. A thump on the back of your seat had you reeling around to see what had happened to the blond man. 

You were surprised to see him now sprawled on the back seats, eyes closed and gun now on the floor. Your hands were shaking as you were now able to take a random exit. When you got to a random parking lot, your head hit the steering wheel. 

“I have de Leeuw in my back seat.” 

Your breathing started to grow ragged. 

“I have  de Leeuw in my back seat!” 

You were now panicking. 

“I HAVE AN FUCKING UNCONSCIOUS MAFIA BOSS IN MY BACK SEAT!” 

Charles’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Max’s tracker come to a stop in a parking lot. The Dutchman was supposed to come back right away after a swift deal with Gasly on the other side of town. But, Charles’s heart had dropped when the car, that Max was supposedly in, turned at an exit too soon. He took off his headset and rolled his chair over a bit. 

“Lando, who was picking Max up today after the deal? Was it Carlos?” 

The curly-haired Briton spun in his seat to look at his fellow mafia worker. 

“Uh, Carlos called in sick. I thought it was Oscar’s turn?” 

Something felt weird in Charles’s stomach. 

“No, Oscar is on that mission? Daniel was then after Oscar.” 

Lando’s eyes widened with fear. “Daniel is out of the country.” 

The Monegasque turned back to his computer screen. All vitals for Max were still good, but he had yet to leave the location. His finger pointed and pressed against the screen. 

“Then . . . who has Max?” 

Back in the parking lot, you had gotten out of the car and were currently rocking back and forth in the fetal position. 

“This is not happening. Why did this happen to me? I only needed some money. Why did I get stuck with a mafia boss. I want to live. I need to get back home to my plant and cat.” 

Last time you checked, de Leeuw was still out cold. You had taken the gun just in case he woke up in a panic and started to shoot at stuff. That would not end well for you. You grabbed your phone and pushed a button. 

“Yes? Hi? Hello, I am calling about what to do if I picked up the wrong passenger. Uh-huh. Yes. I didn’t have his address. Well, no. He’s unconscious. I can’t call the police, he probably owns them. What? Ok. No? The hospital is under the law as well? Yep. I can’t just take him back! No, wait. Don’t hang up. Uhg.” 

So much for customer service. 

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket. Your feet took you over to your car, and you opened the back seat. The blond man was still looked like he was asleep. Your face got closer to his. 

Hm. Up close he was quite handsome. The freckle on his lip really added bonus points. You were so engrossed with the small dot that you missed the twitch of his eyes under his eyelids. When you looked back up, your eyes met blue, which made you shriek and fall back on your butt. 

Max was a bit out of it when he was trying to wake up. What he wasn’t expecting was a face to be so close to his when his eyes finally opened. He would laugh if he had the strength as he watched you fall onto the concrete. His hand immediately went to his belt, but his heart dropped when he didn’t feel his gun. 

“Looking for this?” you asked, gun outstretched at the man in your back seat. Max’s eyes widened at the gun pointed to his head. It took all of his strength to put his hands up. 

“You don’t want to do this,” is the first calm thing that the man said to you. You, however, kept the gun pointed directly at him. 

“You’re right, I don’t. But I can’t have you freak out on me and shoot my face. Who would take care of my cat back home? My cousin Lan could, but he kills everything.” 

Max registered the slight hitch in your voice. While his hands were still up, he took a moment to look around the parking lot. In the depths of his mind, he was hoping that Lando or at least Charles were on their way to come get him. Yet, his heart rate rose as he saw a few familiar things surrounding him. 

He turned back to you. “Ok, you need to listen to me. We are in Rosberg territory right now. And he’s not going to like us on his property. So, you need to give me the gun and get back into the car.” 

Your eyes flickered around, and caught some movement to the left and then to the right. You slowly inched the gun down as you walked closer. When you were right in front of the Dutchman, you quickly handed him the gun as you rounded the car to the drivers seat. 

Max quickly reloaded the unloaded gun with a smirk on his face. You couldn’t have shot him if you tried. It took a bit for him to do it, but when the magazine fit back in the gun, he was wondering why you hadn’t taken off yet. 

“We have to go, now,” he said sternly. 

You turned around. “But I need to find a good get-away-song.” 

Max could count the pout on your lips as adorable, if it weren’t for the fact that Rosberg’s men were quickly making their way to the car. 

“You’re going to have to pick a good funeral song if you don’t hit the gas pedal.” 

“Aha!” 

The music blared out of the broken speaker as you finally put the car into drive. You heard metal hit metal and prayed that you still could trade your car out for another (even with a few bullet holes). 

Max had pressed himself up against the back seat, gun cocked and ready. 

“You better not shoot out my back window. I have to trade this car for a new one.” 

Max muttered, “You won’t trade anything if you’re dead.” 

“I heard that!” 

The mafia boss ignored you as he kept watch. When a few cars started to gain, that’s when he leaned back and aimed the gun, firing shots through your back windshield, shattering the glass. 

“Do you listen to anyone? Or is my voice just static in your brain?” you asked as you swerved onto the highway. When Max didn’t answer, you huffed. You steadily drove your car down the big roads as Max tried his best to keep the cars at bay. 

“How far am I driving?” 

Max grunted as he ducked from a bullet. “Just until exit 7. That’s my track.” 

You wanted to hit your head on the steering wheel once again. “You’re telling me that if I just kept driving, I wouldn’t be in this situation?” 

When he didn’t answer, you swerved a bit to knock him off balance. Your chuckles hit Max’s ear, pissing him off even more. 

“And to think, I was going to replace this utter junk if you made it out alive.” 

“We’re not done yet mister.” 

There was still a bit of road to go, and you were hoping that Max would try to shoot out one of their tyres, instead of trying to shoot at their drivers. He was about reload when he heard a clicking sound. Max really wanted to through himself out the door. 

“Is your blinker seriously on right now?” 

Your fully turned around to glare. 

“Yes.” 

You jerked the wheel as you got onto exit 7, making the cars behind slowly back away and continue on the highway. You wiggled in your seat as you did a little celebration. When some familiar houses came into sight, you gasped. 

“My cousin lives around here!” 

Max was out of breath as he was flabbergasted by your upbeat spirit. “Cousin?” 

“Yeah! He has this like high tech job and stuff. I come over to swim in the summer.” 

He had no words as you pulled up to a familiar house. You scrambled out the door and fell face flat on the asphalt. 

“Sweet mother, thank you, thank you.” 

You could kiss the ground, but that would be super unsanitary. When the garage creaked, you quickly got up and scrambled behind Max, who raised his gun out of instinct. However, he wanted to laugh when he saw his two best friends in full oversized gear. 

The two friends froze at the sight of their boss and, well, Lando’s cousin. 

“Y/n?” the Briton questioned, pulling the visor on the oversized helmet up. 

Your sprung in your place. 

“Lando!” 

“Max?” 

“Charles?”

Lando squinted at you. 

“Y/n?” 

A nervous giggle escaped your lips. 

“Lando?” 

The curly-haired man rushed at you, making you dodge around Max. Which, that resulted in Lando chasing you around the yard. 

“You kidnapped my friend?” 

“Why are you friends with de Leeuw and apparently Il Predestinato? I’m telling Aunt Cisca!”

“Not if I tell your mum that you Ubered in the city!” 

Max and Charles watched as the two of you ran after each other, hurling insults and threats. The two jumped when they heard a loud creak behind them and then a crash. When they looked, your car was down to the ground, wheels askew. 

“My car! De Leeuw, you’re paying for that!”  

uber_y/n has posted

uber_y/n new baby from my new baby 🖤

liked by bestie, land0, max_v, and 204 others

bestie um excuse me ma'am 🤨 what happened to bessie? 😭

uber_y/n someone (not saying any names [max] ) SHATTERED HER BACK WINDOW

max_v I hope you like bessie 2.0 schatje

uber_y/n I dooooooo(not)

max_v woman 🙄

land0 you just had to go for my cousin 😐😑😐

uber_y/n he was very charismatic, unlike you noRIZZ 🫵💀

sharl_lec pls, for the love of everything good in this world, quit uber

uber_y/n NOPE on my way to pick up someone named...lewis?

max_v oh no

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Blur - Song 2 1997

"Song 2" is the second song on English rockband Blur's eponymous fifth studio album. Released in April 1997, "Song 2" peaked at number two on the UK Singles Chart, number four on the Australian ARIA Singles Chart, and number six on the US Billboard Modern Rock Tracks chart. At the 1997 MTV Video Music Awards, "Song 2" was nominated for Best Group Video, and Best Alternative Video. At the 1998 Brit Awards, it was nominated for Best British Single, and Best British Video. In 1998, BBC Radio 1 listeners voted "Song 2" the 15th Best Track Ever. In 2011, NME placed it number 79 on its list "150 Best Tracks of the Past 15 Years".

According to Graham Coxon, "Song 2" was intended to be a joke on the record company. Damon Albarn had recorded an acoustic demo of the song which was slower but featured the song's distinctive "woo-hoo" chorus in whistle form. Coxon then suggested that they pump up the speed and perform the song loudly, with Coxon deliberately seeking out an amateurish guitar sound. From there, Coxon told Albarn to tell the record company that they wanted to release the song as a single to "blow the flipping record labels' heads off". To Coxon's surprise, record executives reacted positively. When asked if the band had any idea of the song's commercial appeal, Coxon replied, "We'd just thought it was way too extreme". Some writers have stated that the song is intended to be a parody of the grunge genre, while others state that it was a parody of radio hits and the music industry with a punk rock chorus.

On 20 October 2018, at the Demon Dayz Fest LA, Damon Albarn's other band Gorillaz played the familiar "Song 2" theme but in characteristic Gorillaz style with dub/funk elements, before Graham Coxon joined Gorillaz onstage and launched into his original riff.

"Song 2" received a total of 84,3% yes votes! Previous Blur polls: #56 "Coffee & TV"

[eufezco]

NIGHT RIDES WITH LOGAN༄

logan x afab!reader (smut) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)

logan spends all day working and you get bored.

when he finally gets home at night he is too tired to do anything but collapse in your bed, between your arms and with your hands caressing his hair. you want to spend some time with him, you miss his company, but you know that work drains all his energy and you would never hold it against him, he did everything he could to provide for the four of you. so you eventually found a way to spend some time with logan.

you booked his limousine.

the first time his brow furrowed in confusion as you opened the door to get into the car. —what are you doing here?

—wanted to spend some time with you.

—you know this makes me loose fucking money.

—you can put in the app that you're free, i won't be a bother, i promise.

and logan huffs but agrees because he's upset but at the same time it's comforting to have you there. he starts driving and you start talking, and he listens, smiles and hums to everything you say. he likes to listen to you and how you have the need to tell him about every thought that goes through your head.

and you turn up the radio a little and hum and sing all the songs while logan is focused on driving but you can see how his fingers tap the rhythm of the song on the steering wheel. he's happy to have you there with him.

and sometimes logan drives with a hand on your thigh, caressing and squeezing the inside of it or taking your hand and putting it on the shifter under his. other times you have your feet on his lap while logan drives, innocently at first, but then you start to rub his crotch with them and he looks at your feet and then he looks at you, looking back at him as if you were doing nothing.

so logan has to park in the darkest alley he knows and fuck you dumb in the back seats. he has you sitting with your legs spread open, knees to your chest, and his body between them as his hips slam into you. may not seem to be the most comfortable position, but remember it's a limousine so you have all the space you need.

it's even better when you ride him. you straddle him and his big hands are on your hips, helping you to bounce on his cock. he grunts and pants into your mouth. he spanks your ass, sucks on your nipples, and looks at you in awe, with parted lips trying to control his breathing as you ride him with your eyes closed shut and your hands on his chest.

there comes a moment when your legs start shaking, your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders and your movements become more desperate, you can't stop moaning and by the way, you're squeezing his cock, logan knows you're about to cum. so he starts bucking his hips upwards to meet yours. and the limousine is moving, the windows are fogging up and you are sure that they can hear from outside the car.

one night he was driving these girls to this party and you were sitting quietly in the passenger seat. the girls were drinking and having the time of their lives in the back of the limousine, laughing and dancing to the music. and all of a sudden one of them called logan and flashed her tits to him through the rearview mirror.

you clenched your jaw, turned around, threw yourself at her, and pulled from her hair. you slapped her and she slapped you back, and logan had to stop the car and get in the middle of the fight. he apologized and offered the girls the ride for free, also they were drunk enough to not care too much. you sat in the passenger seat with your cheek burning and blood coming out of your nose until he dropped the girls at the party. then he used the alcohol he had in his glove compartment to clean your wound.

other night logan stopped driving so you could get a snack. when you got out of the limousine and started walking to the store, a random man slapped your ass. logan never felt so much anger before. he got out with his fists clenched and punched the man so hard that he broke his own knuckles.

—you can't do that, you know how much it takes for you to heal...

he grunted as you wrapped his knuckles with a bandage. he didn’t care, he’d do it again.

and there are nights when it gets very late and logan still has a couple of hours of work but you can't keep it up any longer so you lean your head against the window and fall asleep. logan can't watch you sleep so uncomfortably so he quickly drives home and carries you in his arms to your bed. you hum when he picks you up and he mumbles the sweetest things for you to not wake up.

—sh, it's okay, i got you. you're home, baby, you need to sleep and i'll be with you before you know.

he tucks you into your shared bed and kisses your forehead before he leaves. you hum when you feel his lips. —love you, lo.

—love you too, baby.

and when he gets back to the car he rubs his face to clear his mind because he'd have loved to get into bed and sleep with you but sadly he has to continue working. he opens the glove compartment to take a sip of his alcohol and when he does, he finds your panties, crumpled into a small ball waiting for him.

he takes them and he can feel how wet they are thanks to his cum mixing with your juices. logan brings them close to his face and takes a deep breath. then he puts them inside his pocket. —you're gonna be the fucking death of me.

[stayconnecteed]

“ㅤcasual intimacy moments.ㅤ”ㅤㅤfeat.ㅤstray kids

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ,⠀ ( none of them, just pure fluff and love from our boys ーfelix's is a bit suggestive at the end𓈒⠀⠀enjoy! )

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋'𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 ,⠀ ( if you saw this post in another blog no you didn't because it was me having a tumblr break down and creating another blog for the fun of it. anyways, i really really love cute domestic moments, even more if it's skz themed hehe𓈒⠀⠀hope you like it! )

⠀ೀ　──── 　bang chan.

for chan it's the almost gravitational way you always rotate around each other, with passing caresses and soothing embraces, unable to separate. it's the way your legs tangle under the sheets at night, when you inevitably end up wrapped in his arms and your minds drift off to sleep in harmony. it's every time you walk outside and your hand finds a place next to his, at first just brushing, but always gently intertwining your fingers. when he invites you to his company events, and guides you through the crowd of guests with the warm palm of his hand pressed into the small of your back, murmuring in your ear a low ‘i'm going to say hello to some colleagues, just give me a second’, waiting for you to give him that shy little smile followed by a quick nod. or at a quiet dinner, surrounded by your closest friends, forever sitting right next to you, his hand drawing meaningless shapes on the bare skin of your thigh absentmindedly. chan carries the weight of the conversation, but he's always paying attention to you. if you even hint you want to say something, he'll lean back in his seat, looking at you as if you hang the stars in the sky every night, sliding his arm around the back of your chair, caressing your shoulders, playing with your hair, smiling at every word you pronounce. it's the way he leaves a kiss on your temple when one of your friends points out what a good couple you make, and you press yourself against him, blushing and embarrassed, but still resting your hand on his chest, cuddling onto him with pride.

⠀ೀ　──── 　lee know.

for minho it's the way the velvety sound of your voice can make the weight of a bad day slide off his shoulders, and he always greets you with a big genuine smile. it's the way he doesn't take a second to plug his bluetooth earbuds into his phone as soon as your personalised notification song starts playing, indicating that a new audio from you has arrived in your chat. you usually narrate whatever has just happened to you as if you were recording a podcast just for him, and minho can't help but listen to every second of it with a smitten, adoring gesture curving his lips. it's hearing you humming in the kitchen when he wakes up, starting his day in a good mood and with a slightly scorched pancake in his hand, or receiving your sleepy greeting when he wakes up first and you can only cling to him as he finishes preparing the breakfast. it's your giggles, his playful whispers, your cranky protests and the voice you make when apologising to him after an argument, even if it wasn't your fault, just because you hate fighting with him. but most of all it's at night, when you watch him chop vegetables for dinner while you go on and on about everything you've done during the day. and when you pause, paying attention to the music playing on the radio, and you miss the comment he makes, something along the lines of ‘you look pretty on my counter’, but it's okay. because you just exclaimed that your favourite song is on and you started dancing in the middle of the kitchen, and he knows it is, but he just smiles. he's always listening to you: that's the song that plays every time you text him.

⠀ೀ　──── 　seo changbin.

for changbin it's the way in which your presence has become his safe space, and you his pillar, always willing to let him carry some of his worries on your shoulders. the way you stand so firm and secure, with a soft smile curving your lips, welcoming him with open arms. it's the way that since he was young he has needed to keep quiet about everything he feels, to avoid hurting anyone who might hear him speak, but it never happened with you. knowing your limits, he speaks with the freedom of one who knows he is in a place he trusts, telling what he has done during the day, but also his private thoughts and deepest longings. it's all those times when he has come home and spent his time talking, sitting in bed, while you make notes or tidy up the room. you listen to him, relaxing, and he always feels better after talking to you ーeven if you haven't said a word. and if he comes in in a bad mood, or even sad, or just doesn't feel like talking, you walk him to your bathroom to put on your gym outfits, and take him with you to release energy. but if you don't feel like it, then he's the one who helps you clean up, selecting a random playlist from his private spotify account and vacuuming, mopping, or even his favourite: doing the laundry. being able to smell the clean towels and sheets, taking your time to fold them carefully and neatly, him holding two corners and you holding the other two, doing it together, and getting to sit on the couch and watch it all tidy up makes you feel satisfied.

⠀ೀ　──── 　hwang hyunjin.

for hyunjin it's the way you look at each other, meeting in a room full of people even almost unintentionally. automatic, at first as a coincidence that made you blush like teenagers, and now as an old habit that never fails to make you smile. it's the way you don't need him to utter a word to know what he needs, to find out what's wrong with him. one look from him, his eyes moist with sadness, and you do whatever it takes to make it right. one look from you, full of loneliness, and you can't get him to leave you for the rest of the day. it’s looking into his eyes and knowing he's the most important person in your life. searching for him with your eyes when you hear something he'd love to know, and discovering his absence. missing the way his eyes curve into a smile when you hear a joke and he's not there. repeating word for word later in the day, knowing he's lost in thought, and his gaze lost on you, certain he'd smile with his eyes even if it wasn't funny. because it's you. it's coming home to find it silent, exhaling all the pent up stress he's been accumulating and being able to lose himself in your eyes. even before you go to sleep, when you meet in the bathroom to brush your teeth, it's that glance. sometimes tired, sometimes clear as a summer night, but always with the glow of the happiness you give each other. is when you make a silly face, and he has to hold back to keep the toothpaste foam from coming out of his nose, or dance in front of the mirror, humming whatever. even later, face to face on the mattress, when you look at each other in silence, tracing every detail you fell in love with, sometimes with your memories, sometimes with your fingers, sometimes with your lips.

⠀ೀ　──── 　han jisung.

for jisung it is the selfless and generous way you love him, as if it were as easy as breathing. the way you make him the centre of your universe at every sign of faltering, even when he doesn't think he deserves it. how you put all your trust in him from the beginning, overflowing so that he learned to trust himself too. how you treat him when he feels like a broken glass, too fractured and fragile, letting him lie in your lap, teaching him how precious he is, reassuring him for as long as he needs, with soft words and slow caresses. it's the way you say ‘baby, i'm home’ when it's seven o'clock and you've only just opened the door, always eager to get to him, and also how you never fail to show up at his late-night studio sessions with home-cooked food for him and his hyungs. you make sure you don't interrupt, and he always works better with you around. because you were the first person outside his circle that he allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of, the night you asked him how he was and he just crumbled, and you wrote i love you on his arms with the marker you'd been painting with, until he started to believe it. but mostly because that time he decided to be the one to initiate physical contact, resting his head on your shoulder, he noticed how you tensed. he heard your heartbeat quicken, and was aware of the slow, calm way you tried to breathe. and when he heard changbin enter the room, as loud as ever, he had heard you threaten him with very unpleasant things if he made jisung wake up. he will never tell you that he was completely conscious, but he will love you just the same.

⠀ೀ　──── 　lee felix.

for felix it's the way you both drown under each other's skin whenever you can, creating an ethereal bubble around you. the way your bodies seek each other out, taking refuge next to each the other when you want to hide from the world because you've become saturated with emotions. it's him collapsing on top of you when he comes back from a really physical session, letting your fingers dance over his aching muscles. it's how you snuggle into his chest after an argument with your best friend, seeking his warmth, not resuming the video game until he makes sure that all you need is his physical touch to rest. he will get fuzzy to your words, like when you show him how you see him on those days when he's feeling less confident, but he'll leave kisses on your forehead every time he notices you moving and will stop the game as soon as it's over to be with you. or in your routine, bathing together. when one of you goes to fetch the other because you're feeling down, and you intertwine your fingers on the way to the bathroom, tenderly undressing each other, cuddling under the fine line that separates the real world from underwater peace of mind. maybe you lean against him, letting him massage your shoulders, or maybe he has his eyes closed, his head on your chest as you wash his hair. but you are always skin to skin, letting your bones melt, the soft vanilla gel washing away your sadness, leaving only wet kisses and sighs contained in the tarnished tiles of your bathroom.

⠀ೀ　──── 　kim seungmin.

for seungmin it's the way your smile plagues his day to day, your memory constantly on his mind. it's the way that when it comes to you, everything else doesn't matter. it's your chat; plagued by highlighted messages, pictures that have reminded him of you, audios with drafts of tunes, videos he forces jeongin to record when they're on a trip, titles of books you'd once mentioned you'd like to read ーto confirm before he buys them for youー, the review score of the movie you wanted to go to the cinema to see, a screenshot of your favourite artist's concert tickets. it's the way seungmin will do anything for you. from leaving you his hoodie at dusk, when the weather starts to cool down, to letting his phone bill run up, just to be able to hear your voice when he can't be with you. but none of that compares to the day you decided to move in together and he discovered he'd never been too much for you. he sat on your new shared bed, surrounded by packaging, and opened the shoebox that you had treated with the utmost care when you brought it up to your room from the car. every CD he had made for you, every polaroid and ticket, every note and receipt, even that attempted copy of his minho hyung's doodle he had made on a napkin, on one of your first dates. it's the way you've never made him feel like he's too much, matching his energy every step of the way.

⠀ೀ　──── 　yang jeongin.

for jeongin, it's the way you intertwined your lives without even thinking about it, accepting oddities and enjoying every moment. it's the way you started to memorise each other's likes and dislikes by sharing your time, like his favourite order of coffee or your favourite walk from home to work, which always passes in front of his work, so you could go together. it's the curve of your hip against the counter as you stir the food absently while you wait for him to come home, and the way you hang on his neck as soon as he walks in the door, covering his face with kisses. it's how clumsy he is, and all the band-aids you've had to put on, or vases to glue, but also how forgetful you are, and all those days when he's reminded you of important things he's written down on his phone for you. it's those almost nocturnal trips to do the shopping, because he never remembers and you always forget, and how you leave the house together, shoulder to shoulder, with knowing smiles on your faces.  the walk hand in hand to the supermarket that opens later in the evening, taking advantage of the lit pavements to take couple photos or, if there aren't many people in the street, to record a cute tiktok. the way you slide your arms across his chest in a back hug as you wait for the traffic lights to turn green and cross, and the process of convincing each other to buy your favourite snacks at the same time as the food, without going over budget. those quiet moments when he insists on being the one to carry the bags, and then you both place them together in the kitchen cupboards, whispering love songs.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝑡𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍.

this is a big i'm sorry for being so out of here rn, hope you guys understand :((

@skzms , @starlostastronaut , @rylea08 , @atinyniki , @jazziwritesthings , @manuosorioh , @hanjsquokka , @linosssss , @babybearcubbs , @kayleefriedchicken , gnabnahc097 , @caitlyn98s , @reignessance , @starlostseungmin , @bbokari711 , @nebugalaxy , @nxtt2-u , @strawberrysworld26 , @catiuskaa , @lyramundana , @jisunglyricist , @jisuperboard , @choixlia , seungminniez , juuh-07 , ayyonoona , @seolarzone , @my-neurodivergent-world

( + ) @katzline , lixxpix

ㅤㅤ© stayconnecteed ★ do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms ! consider leaving a comment or reblogging.

[captain-joongz]

Cream soda

Pairing: non-idol!Baekhyun x f!reader

Genre: annoyances to lovers, friends to lovers, smut, fluff

Word count: 6.6k

Summary: Baekhyun eats your pussy in the backseat of his car. That's pretty much it.

Warnings: reader is a little bratty at first, subby reader, dom-ish Baekhyun, dirty talk (i am so weak for this man, i didn't even have control over what came outta his mouth), some allusions to slight humiliation, overuse of petnames, fingering, oral (both f and m receiving), deepthroating, face fucking, cum eating

A/N: okay, this was a little unplanned. i was just watching exo cream soda moments and then suddenly thoughts of this man wouldn't leave me until i put this into words, so enjoy this impromptu piece as a little gift inbetween the scheduled content

„Ugh, I should have hitched a ride with Kai and Sehun,” I muttered under my breath as I side-eyed Baekhyun behind the wheel loudly belting out effortless high notes along to some pop song playing on the radio. The man in question giggled with his high voice and continued singing even louder, throwing amused looks my way with a mischievous smirk.

“Come on, princess, I know you love spending time with me,” he teased, lips shaping into a sly grin and eyes flitting between me and the road. I scoffed and folded my arms over my chest and looked out of the window sulkily.

“Yeah, when you’re quiet,” I murmured, which made Baekhyun laugh at me again and continue amusing himself with singing. I wouldn’t admit it to him out loud, lest I inflate his already humongous ego even more, but I did find myself awed with his voice every time he just casually started singing as if he was paid to do it. Outwardly I scowled, but I did like to listen to him when he did, which was always, as it seemed the man was incapable of shutting up.

Me and Baekhyun were kind of distaste at first sight. I’d gotten to know Kai in a dance class I took up in my free time and he occasionally came in to teach, and we made friends right away, the young dancer’s shy and genuine personality making it impossible to not love him. Before I knew it, I spent most of my Wednesday’s classes giggling away in a corner with him, trading stupid jokes and laughing at tom-foolery we came up with. I was kind of hopeless at dancing, but Kai made it so much fun I just loved coming back every week even though I knew I would definitely never learn to dance as he did. He was the one who taught me having fun and loving that I’m moving is more important than trying to be perfect, and I approached those classes with a free spirit and desire for a good time.

In time I started hanging out with Jongin even outside of those Wednesday’s evenings and gradually was introduced to most of his friend group, most of the time hanging out with him and Sehun, occasionally Chanyeol tagging along.

When I finally met all eight of them, it was at Jongin’s birthday party. I was sat next to Junmyeon, holding polite conversation with him about our respective careers, when Baekhyun arrived. Really, I could hear him long before the door even opened, but when it did, it was pure chaos. He waltzed in, dressed to the nines, screaming something and immediately running over to the youngsters and hugging them. For the whole evening, no matter where I was sitting or who I was talking to, there seemed to be a constant Baekhyun hum in the background. I could just always hear him and even though I barely talked to him, I knew everything he said to every single person in the room, because he was just incapable of speaking at a lower volume. And even worse, his energy and aura just drew my eyes and I found myself slipping and watching him interact with others, all wide smiles, silly antics and loud laughs. By the time I was walking home through the night city, the sound of his teasing voice and carefree giggles were ingrained into my brain, ringing like an echo even though I was long gone from his company.

So, the next time I was invited to another event with all of Jongin’s hyungs, I went in already a little annoyed with the man, which was made even worse by the fact that I got stuck sitting next to him. He would tease me, joke about everything I said and randomly butt into conversations I had with others. After hours of sitting next to him, I was at my Baekhyun limit.

Now, with time as we hung out more as a group, I’d gotten more used to him and even found myself laughing at his shenanigans, but my pride didn’t allow me to show it, especially since he started teasing me about being so uptight and never joking around with them. I would just find myself immediately ticked off anytime I could see his eyes fall onto me and that infuriating self-pleased smirk spread on his lips, brain already coming up with ways to embarrass me (I wasn’t actually embarrassed, and I had a feeling Baekhyun knew that otherwise he’d stop, but I wouldn’t say that out loud. I guess there’s just a lot of things I wouldn’t admit to him.). I enjoyed our little “rivalry” and learnt to balance Baekhyun’s wild energy with cold stares and deadpan delivery of sarcastic remarks. All in all, we actually worked quite well together.

That being said, I still did find him annoying. Especially when he rolled into events dressed in a way that accentuated every little attractive detail about him (and there were many) and threw his trademark smirks with hints and teases of tongue at anyone he pleased. I’d seen him in so many white or black tees that either perfectly showed off his biceps or teased his chiselled chest, with pretty necklaces and chains that drew attention to his neck and sharp jawline. More often than not I found myself going absolutely crazy with just one look at him, only to immediately want to smack him the moment he opened his mouth. Being around him was always just a whirlwind of confused lust and irritation.

Tonight was no exception.

Around new years there started to be talks of taking one extended weekend in the spring, renting out a nice loft somewhere in the woods and going there to drink and have fun. When the time came, we only had to decide who would ride with who. I originally was meant to go with Kai and Sehun, but they both wanted to take their girlfriends and in the end I couldn’t squish into the car with them, even though we tried. I attempted to ask the other boys, but mostly their cars were completely full with either people or supplies and couldn’t take on more baggage and an extra person. At this point Baekhyun stepped in and offered, because he had a car (I did not, I rode a bike most days and didn’t get a license for cars) and even though he originally planned to go with Chanyeol, it would be easier for him to go in his own and take me too. I reluctantly agreed. It was one thing to be spending time with him when there were other people present, but being shut in the car with him for hours, I had no idea how much I would be able to take.

I knew I was in for a wild ride (pun not intended) when he showed up dressed in washed out jeans with white streaks and splashes, white tee and a black lather jacket with snakeskin motive, his usual chains and necklaces contrasting with his smooth skin, teasing his neck and collarbone, and his white and black hair styled perfectly around his sharp beautiful face. He was leaning against his sleek black car with a smug grin and my knees were weak the moment I spotted him. So here I was, hours later, listening to him sing his heart out while looking like a fucking model and annoying the shit out of me.

It was already dark outside and I was getting antsy. We should have been getting closer but somehow our destination was still god knows how many kilometres away. I was hoping we could get there in time for dinner and a good night’s sleep, as tomorrow we a had lot planned, but several hours and two turn-backs later I started giving up hope.

“Are we even getting closer or are you just going to keep me in this car listening to your singing for the entire night?” I grumbled sharply and Baekhyun turned to me with a self-assured grin.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be there soon,” he answered with a wink, “you’re pretty grumpy when you get hungry, I’d prefer to feed you before I get my head bitten off.” Just then his phone beeped and the maps app started flashing a warning that he was no longer getting any signal and couldn’t be tracked. I groaned loudly while Baekhyun just cursed at it and pulled over at the first available spot. We were currently somewhere in the mountains, on the tiny little winding roads with little space. According to the surroundings, we should be close to the cabin, but for the love of god we just couldn’t find our way there, and the reason was the stupid fucking phone Baekhyun was currently furiously tapping while cursing under his breath. I sighed again and watched him lose a battle to the piece of technology.

“I swear I’m usually a really responsible chauffeur, it’s just because my phone is broken,” the white haired man said with a little nervous laugh, “It seems to be having trouble getting signal and therefore the GPS doesn’t work.” I just looked at him wordlessly, tired and annoyed, and raised my eyebrow.

“Okay, Miss Mad-at-the-world, pull out your phone then, let’s use your GPS,” Baekhyun joked, but I could hear an undertone of annoyance in his voice, which made me instantly angry. I did pull my phone out and unlocked it and then tapped with my finger to the right top corner. It read 10 % battery. This time it was Baekhyun who groaned loudly and then hit his head lightly on the top of the steering wheel.

“Well, then this might be the end of our journey,” he admitted sheepishly, “at least until my phone starts cooperating again.”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” I growled, the anger finally getting the better of me. Baekhyun looked at me sharply, his squinted eyes showing displeasure at my tone.

“I’m not happy about it either, you think I wanna be stuck in a car?” he spit back, just as fired up, “I’m hungry and I wanna sit down on a couch and watch a movie.” I threw a glare at him and then turned around to stubbornly look out the window, continuing my grumbling.

“God, I knew that driving with you was going to be trouble, I should have just pushed my way into Sehun’s car,” I mumbled petulantly, admittedly acting just a tiny bit like a little kid, “This is all because of you and your stupid broken phone.”

At this, Baekhyun groaned, his head thrown back hitting the seat as his hands flexed into the steering wheel. I watched it unfold in the reflection of the window and suddenly found a spark of a different heat running through my veins. I shuddered and squeezed my thighs together, surprised by the force of the unexpected arousal. Baekhyun was none the wiser, as he launched into an angry spiel.

“God, why do you always get so angry with me?!” he asked incredulously, “Every time I think we’re finally getting better, you go and get annoyed with me for no fucking reason! Even Jongin came to me and asked if I did something to you and you just didn’t want to tell him! I had to very embarrassingly explain to him that I didn’t know either why you just seem to hate me and only me!” Shame flooded me at my behaviour and I realised that of course everyone else seemed to pick up at my weird attitude when it came to this man. I truly found myself regretful at how genuinely upset Baekhyun seemed to be about not knowing what he did to irk me, especially since it was mostly my problem with how he made me feel than him actually doing anything irksome, but at that moment my brain was so overridden by lust that I couldn’t even tell him anything, because it felt as if I was melting and I couldn’t muster up a single thought except for how much I wanted to fucking jump him, months of repressed longing coming to the surface after I’d had to spend hours watching him be effortlessly attractive while driving.

“So tell me, what did I ever do to you?” Baekhyun exclaimed and turned to look at me, only to promptly freeze. I was already looking at him, having abandoned the window the moment he started talking, and suddenly anxiousness filled me at his expression. I was breathing quite hard and hoped it wasn’t as loud as I feared, the blush spilling over my face down my neck.

Baekhyun must have seen something in my unguarded expression, because suddenly he was relaxing into his seat, his previous anger and frustration melting into a smug smirk. I nervously fiddled with the edge of my skirt, embarrassment flooding me.

“I see,” he purred, his eyes flitted over my figure and filled with desire, “I understand now.” Then he abruptly leaned over to my side, one of his hands falling onto my thigh and gently squeezing, the other leaning onto the top of my seat, fingers tangling softly into my hair. Before I could stop myself, I let out a quiet little whimper, thighs squeezing on instinct, trapping his hand halfway between my legs. It felt as if our faces were just millimetres apart, breath mingling and lips almost brushing each other. I was entranced by his eyes, darkened by lust, expression suddenly sharpened by the arousal that was palpable in the air.

Then he chuckled, a shit-eating grin slipping onto his face, and pulled away. I took a deep breath, suddenly realising I stopped when he descended into my personal space. Baekhyun gave me a cheeky wink and started unbuckling his seat belt. Before I even processed what was happening, he was stepping out of the car into the dark.

When I wasn’t moving, he bent down a little and looked at me through the open door, the grin still held fast on his face.

“What are you waiting for, princess? Get into the back seat.” His voice kept the teasing lilt, but there was a rough undertone to it and it did something to me, heat spreading rapidly through every pore of my being. He stepped back and the door slammed shut. Before I could think about it, I unbuckled as well and launched myself back through the little gap between the seats. When Baekhyun opened the door, I was already sitting there, waiting for him with wide eyes and mouth agape, hair and clothes messed up from the struggle and breathing heavily. He froze for a second and then started laughing as he crawled in onto the furnishing.

“How eager,” Baekhyun purred, his beautiful face twisting with a little twinge of aroused savageness, clearly getting off on my obedience and lust. I felt my pussy throb at his words and the tone of his voice, fingers digging into the flesh of my thighs in anticipation.

“Lay down on your back, princess,” Baekhyun instructed me and started taking off his leather jacket, his gaze following my every movement as I started shuffling to make enough space. I ended up having to spread my thighs to make enough space for the kneeling man, but still had to awkwardly lean my head in a sharp angle on the door behind me. This had my skirt falling back and basically revealing my black underwear to his hungry eyes.

I whimpered again, hands flexing in my lap, inadvertently bunching up the fabric of the skirt even more. At the sound Baekhyun’s gaze snapped to my face, a predatory smirk on his lips painting him in a completely different light than I’d been used to. For some reason I was expecting him to keep his light-hearted teasing persona even in bed, so I was wholly unprepared for this sudden dark lustful aura that seemed to consume him from the inside out.

Knowing he had my full attention, his hands suddenly grasped my ankles, startling a gasp out of me at the unexpected contact, and then his fingers lightly, teasingly made their way up to my knees. He tapped there a few times, watching their journey fascinated, before they continued on down the inside of my thighs. My legs twitched a little, a gush of wetness hitting my now completely soaked panties, while I waited with bated breath for his next move.

“You should have told me sooner, baby, I would have fucked the attitude out of you months ago,” Baekhyun’s voice rough with arousal suddenly rung out through the silent car and hit me to my core, cunt tightening around nothing at the lewdness of his words.

Before I could even reply, his hand pressed onto my wet clothed heat, fingers teasing the slit with slight pressure, and I moaned loudly, back arching off of the seats. My body was reacting to his presence and touch so viscerally it would almost scare me if I had the mental capacity to think about anything else than his fingers near my pussy.

I watched as his tongue darted out to lick his lips, his eyes trained on his hand playing with my panties, a whimper falling out of me when I imagined it between my legs. Baekhyun didn’t seem to be paying me much attention, rather focused on feeling out my pussy through my underwear. His other hand discreetly moved down his own body and squeezed his crotch, a shudder wracking through his body, eyes falling close with a pleased little sigh. I replied to the sight with a moan of my own, my mouth falling open as the last of my thoughts trickled out of my mind and were completely replaced by the vision that was Baekhyun pleasuring himself in front of me.

He peeked at me, watching me from under half-lidded eyes, the smirk on his face turning a little sharper. I was a little embarrassed by how easy it was for him to completely deconstruct me to a whimpering mess, and he barely even did anything, but clearly it was doing wonders for Baekhyun’s ego as he was exuding smugness while looking down on me. It made him look so powerful, like me and my pleasure were beneath him and I should be glad that he was even touching me in the first place, and that thought made me moan again, eyes rolling back into my head as I arched and pressed my pussy more onto his fingers.

He chuckled and obliged, pushing my panties to the side and running his fingers through my wet slit, thumb circling my clit while two of his fingers played with my entrance. I moaned and gasped, my whole body trembling with delicious tension as the waves of pleasure finally hit me full force.

“Please,” I gasped out, pussy pulsing with Baekhyun’s incessant teasing, “God, Baekhyun, please do something.” His fingers suddenly plunged in, but I was so wet and ready, they went in with no problem at all. A high pitched moan left my mouth and I gripped the edge of the seat. Everything seemed to spin along with the circles Baekhyun’s thumb was doing on my clit and I felt my sanity slowly slipping away, as the tingling feeling filled my whole body.

His fingers were just perfect, thick and a little bony, pretty and elegant, filling me in a way I was craving for months, and as he started unhurriedly pumping them in and out, I gasped and sighed and moaned with the mounting pleasure. For a moment I let myself be carried by the wave, eyes closed mouth opened just riding the burning feeling coiling in my belly, but then he stopped and pulled his hand away. Before I could stop myself I whined, long and drawn pitiful sound that made Baekhyun teasingly sneer at me with delight.

“Don’t cry, princess,” he whispered, voice rough and deeper than usual, “I’m just trying to figure out what you need.” With that he shifted and my attention was brought back to the bulge in his own pants, but he snapped his fingers, drawing my eyes back to his face. I felt myself blush at the open hunger and amusement in his gaze, knowing what I’d been looking at.

“Tell me, pretty girl,” Baekhyun continued, leaning a bit forward so he could look down on me with more of an impact. I whimpered and my thighs spasmed. His hand grabbed onto one and stabilised it with a soft caress. “Do you want my fingers? Hmm?” he asked with a faux curiosity on his handsome sharp face, “Or maybe something else?” His tongue poked out of his mouth again and unwittingly I gasped and nodded slightly before I could even think about it.

Baekhyun’s face crumpled into a smug smirk again, all sympathy draining out and getting replaced by pure hunger and lust. A bolt of desire pulsed through my entire body so strong I was surprised I didn’t physically jerk. Then he bent slightly over, kissing the skin of my knee. His eyes, ever so vigilant, watched hungrily for my reaction, and when I gasped slightly and tensed in his hold, it seemed to satisfy him enough. Slowly his lips made their way down the inside of my thigh, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses in their wake, until he reached my quivering centre, still covered by underwear.

He latched onto my clothed pussy, tongue pressing into the slit, putting pressure on my clit and licking around the edges of my panties. I tensed again, whole body shaking and anticipation and excitement flooding through my veins. But Baekhyun was suddenly in his teasing mood again and after a few moments of playing around with my clit with the tip of his tongue, he pulled away again. I didn’t even have time to whine though, as he immediately grabbed my underwear and swiftly pulled it off, leaving my pussy bared to him.

Instead of diving in, he chose to take the same path down the other thigh, but this time he was a lot less gentle, rushing down the expanse of the skin, leaving little bites and groaning lightly into the flesh, until he once again found himself buried in my pussy. The shock of his tongue licking a long stripe from my entrance up to my clit made me heave out a loud breath on a groan, body convulsing.

Now he wasted no time, suddenly seemingly as desperate to have me cumming as I was, his tongue wreaked havoc on me, sliding through my folds until it was lightly circling my clit before his lips latched onto it and sucked harshly. I was mindlessly laying there, twitching and shuddering, mouth open on a constant stream of quiet moans as he ate me out wildly.

He alternated between playing with my clit with his tongue and sucking on it with such force it left me breathless, before he slid lower and circled my entrance, moaning loudly into my cunt as his hands gripped my thighs tighter, leaving red indents of his nails. His head moved with the motion, bobbing excitedly as he licked me to my clit again before plunging his tongue in my hole without any warning.

It was such an onslaught of sensations I found myself barely hanging on, the fire in my lower belly consuming everything in its path and filling my veins with molten gold. I stopped caring about what kind of noises leave my mouth and gave myself over to the feeling of his tongue fucking into me in rough motions, nose bumping into my clit making me see stars. Blindly I reached over and grabbed his hair, tugging on it harshly and that had Baekhyun loudly groaning into my pussy, hands massaging my thighs as if he was holding on for dear life.

It was such a hot experience I could feel myself hurling closer to the edge, but I just needed an extra push. I used the grip on the hair as leverage and pulled Baekhyun away from my cunt. He looked at me, his fucked out expression bleeding into slight annoyance at getting interrupted. He looked a mess, the lower half of his face wet with my juices, lips shiny and red, tongue peeking out like he was a dog in heat. A blush was spread over his face, but spilled lower over his collarbones which were visible in the stretched out collar.

I pulled his head and pushed his mouth to my clit again. Without thinking, he immediately latched on and started sucking on it in between flicking it with his tongue, circling it and playing with it before giving it some rougher treatment. I moaned loudly, barely holding onto any thought, hand still holding him in place. When he wanted to move lower, his hair got pulled again and a debauched groan left his lips before he smirked at me.

“Suddenly turned all demanding, huh?” he said and teasingly licked through my folds as far as he could reach, “What is it baby, am I not doing enough?” I attempted to look at him, but I was already half gone, just desperately needing to come as soon as possible.

“Your fingers too, please,” I gasped out and with a single grin the man obliged immediately. Before I could process his lips on my cunt again, two fingers were plunged as deep as they could go into my heat. I nearly screamed out, but managed to turn it into a drawn out moan, legs falling open as far as I could push them. Baekhyun groaned in answer and then started harshly fucking me with them, curling them slightly to hit the sweet spot. Which he did, again and again and again. With a couple of flicks he had me losing my mind in the damn backseat of his car, on the cusp of cumming just from seeing his eyes drink up my own lust.

The car was suddenly filled with the sound of his muffled moaning, wet squelching of his fingers pumping furiously into my cunt and my own moans and sighs. I arched again, pushing my pussy into his face, into his fingers, so close to falling over that edge. I could barely think, barely hear, barely see, walls of my cunt spasming around him and milking his fingers of all their worth.

Baekhyun moaned again, hips moving on their own against one of my legs. I could feel his hard cock straining through the jeans and I loved knowing this was driving him just as wild, but I couldn’t hold that thought for long because suddenly he paired a couple of harsh pumps of his fingers with a hard flick and a long drawn-out sucking on my clit and I was launched into my climax, crashing into it so hard my hands flexed and had him groaning in pain and pleasure, hips stuttering against me.

The added vibration of his pleasured sounds carried me through it hard and I cried out, hips jerking against his face, the orgasm washing through my body in one huge tidal wave, white spots dancing behind my lids as I pressed them shut. The pleasure wrecked through me with a few quieter moans, leaving my thighs trembling. Then my whole body slumped down, the muscles relaxing and turning me into a rag doll.

I could hear Baekhyun breathing loudly, licking lightly at my spent pussy until I used my hand to pull him away again. He smirked at me, pulling my hand away from his white and black hair and sat back on his heels. His hands worked fast on his belt and zipper and I watched him utterly fascinated as he pulled his cock out, his hand frantically moving up and down the length as he chased his own pleasure.

I loved the sight, his cock was just as pretty as Baekhyun himself was, thick and curved with a tip flushed red, wet from pre-cum. I felt the fire burn low in my belly again, excitement making itself known through the tingling feeling spreading through my cunt. I moved faster than I was able to comprehend, suddenly kneeling in front of him with Baekhyun pushed against the door. I looked at him once with a mischievous expression and that was all the warning he got before I pulled his hand away and put his cock halfway down my throat.

He groaned loudly, hands immediately flying to my hair, tugging on it just as harshly as payback, and I moaned just as loudly in return, the sensation making him choke on a whimper. I was too eager, pushing myself to take him further into my mouth and in the process choking on his length, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel him in my throat. Baekhyun released a few raggedy moans, hands flexing in my hair and hips stuttering slightly, before he seemed to regain back some composure and decided to take control again.

His hand grabbed onto my hair a little harsher, getting a more solid grip before he stopped me from aimlessly choking on him. I looked up, completely ruined by lust and needing him to cum just as hard as I did. He smirked at me, pleased at my obedience.

“Gonna fuck your mouth, yeah princess?” he whispered roughly, hands once again getting a good grip, but his eyes waited for my confirmation. I blinked at him and tried to nod, which was pretty hard given my position but he seemed to understand.

His hips jumped a little forward as he was preparing himself to move and I cherished the feeling of his cock sliding deeper into my mouth, touching the edge of my throat. I breathed loudly through my nose, getting used to the feeling before Baekhyun started thrusting.

When he did, he started slow, with measured shallow thrusts that had barely half of his cock sliding into my mouth, but once I moaned and pushed against his hands holding me still, he got the memo and started earnestly fucking into mouth, hips languidly moving in elegant swerves and each thrust punching a high moan out of him. He tried to keep his eyes on me, but soon was too overwhelmed by the sensation and threw his head back as his hips kept relentlessly jerking forward, until I was choking on him on every thrust.

I concentrated on my breathing, but the throbbing trembling between my legs was making me delirious, moaning around the intrusion in my mouth and welcoming it back with every plunge, driving Baekhyun absolutely insane.

The car moved with the motion of his hips, swinging wildly from left to right, and if anybody passed by us, they would definitely know what was currently taking place inside. I could hear a quiet creaking of metal, lost behind the cacophony of Baekhyun’s long high pitched moans. His thrusts had gotten slower but harder, pushing into me until my face was smushed into his lower abdomen, the cock pulsing in my throat. I tried to swallow around it and a pitiful groan was punched out of Baekhyun’s mouth. I could feel he wouldn’t last much longer, his fingers digging into my hair tightly, hips losing rhythm and chasing after an orgasm, moans getting higher and higher.

I grabbed onto his thighs and my nails digging into the fabric of the jeans were no doubt felt through to his skin. His hands started guiding my head along his thrusts, pushing me into him on ever slide in. Drool dribbled out of my mouth, all over my chin and onto him, but he didn’t seem to mind.

With a few deep thrusts I could hear his stuttering breaths, the tightening of his balls before he stilled, cock pushed as deep as it could go pumping hot salty liquid down my throat. Baekhyun let out one last long moan, cumming in few hot squirts as his hips trembled and jerked lightly. I struggled to swallow around his length, stimulating the already sensitive head, punching out some whimpers out of him as his cum slipped out my lips and dribbled down my chin. My own cunt spasmed and throbbed with arousal, and I could feel the wetness sliding down my thighs, making me groan slightly.

He finally pulled out and his head lolled back to look at me. I barely had the presence of mind to look at him, eyes teary and face a mess of drool and cum. Something passed over his eyes and then he was suddenly pushing me down onto the seat, descending over me and kissing me harshly. I gasped and he immediately stuck his tongue into my mouth, no doubt tasting his release, but that didn’t seem to bother him, especially since he kissed me like a starved man.

I was so ready to cum again, too turned on from having him fuck my mouth to even pretend I didn’t need him again and he seemed to understand. With one hand he pulled up my shirt, lips migrating down my neck to mouth at my tits, while the other pressed between our bodies and without much preamble he plunged two fingers inside my hole again.

I whimpered, back arching and pushing my tits into his mouth, while my hips gyrated against his fingers attempting to ride them to completion. The madness at that point truly hit the boiling point as I didn’t need much at all and after a few rough well aimed thrusts combined with slight scraping of his teeth over my nipple I was cumming once again, this time my whole body spasmed and the pleasure was enough to tear a desperate scream out of my throat as I clamped down on his fingers, the ecstasy tearing through me with even more force than the first time. Baekhyun groaned a few times too, attempting to let me ride out the climax with some gentler strokes, before we both slumped down, the pleasant boneless feeling after a good orgasm getting us both.

Sound of harsh breathing was the only sound in the car as we both tried to get it back under control, our bodies cooling down. I was suddenly aware just how much cold wet release was all over my cunt and thighs, as well as a slight tick in my jaw was making itself known. Baekhyun pushed himself back on his knees and tucked himself back into his pants, tee haphazardly hanging off of him.

He gave me a winning smile with a touch of that smugness from before and then launched into motion. I rolled my eyes at him fondly, but let him do the aftercare, as I was still too drained to even move. Just as he was leaning over to the front seat trying to grab the packet of handkerchiefs to wipe me down, his phone suddenly started blaring through the silence of the car, scaring the both of us.

Baekhyun grabbed it and looked at it, then looked at me and said cheekily: “It seems that the signal is working again.” I just stuck my tongue out at him, to which he in turn started gesturing lewdly with his until I kicked him with a barely held back laugh.

The phone was still blaring, so he clicked the accept button and suddenly Jongin’s worried rambling was filling the silence of the car.

“Jesus christ, hyung!” he exclaimed, “We were so fucking scared! You were supposed to be here hours ago and none of us could reach either of you and we had no idea where you were!”

“Sorry, bear,” Baekhyun replied, though he didn’t sound nor looked very sorry, grinning at me while leisurely wiping my centre. I flushed with embarrassment, suddenly feeling shy now that Jongin was on the call. “My phone’s broken and Y/N’s died a while ago. We seem to be quite lost.”

“Are you anywhere close? I might be able to come and get you,” came Kai’s sweet reply, his voice full of relief now that we established we were alive and well. “I’m not sure, I think so,” Baekhyun told him and looked out the window. It was pointless, it was already dark outside and barely anything could be seen beyond the few dingy streetlights.

“My GPS kept fucking up, so we stopped by the side of the road for a little bit to see if it jumps back on, but I think we’re in the vicinity,” the man carried on explaining and I started searching for my discarded panties. When I bent over to fish them from underneath the driver’s seat, a hand made its way to my ass and caressed it gently. I flushed and ducked further to avoid looking at the smug bastard.

There was silence on the line, stretching until I started nervously twitching and turned back to sit next to Baekhyun. He watched me with a teasing glint to his eye and then winked.

“Uh-huh,” drawled out Jongin finally as an answer. I could hear in his voice he was suspicious and really, who could blame him. We disappeared, didn’t pick up phone calls and then Baekhyun tells him totally laid-back “oh yeah, phone’s broken and we’re somewhere on the side of the road” as if he was talking about what he was doing yesterday. I blushed again and slapped his shoulder lightly, earning a quiet amused chuckle.

“Okay hyung, stay there and send me your location while your phone works,” Jongin said, deadpan and clearly done with his shit, “and for fuck’s sake, be fully clothed when I get there.”

Baekhyun started loudly cackling while I slapped his shoulder some more in embarrassment. He snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me flush to his chest, giggling at me playfully.

“Got it! Thank you, Jonginnie~”

The man sighed and grumbled something about Baekhyun being a menace and then hung up. I immediately groaned and pushed my face into the white-haired man’s shoulder.

“They’ll never shut up about this,” I mumbled and melted into the feeling of Baekhyun’s fingers gently carding through my hair. He chuckled lightly, reverting back to his happy persona.

“Just be really shameless, it will be less fun for them to tease you,” he laughed, “Walk in like ‘yeah I sucked his dick, what of it?’” He made some crude gestures with his free hand and then laughed when I slapped it again.

“Let’s get back to the front seats before Kai gets here, or he’ll be traumatised,” I told him and pulled myself back through the gap. When I turned back, Baekhyun was giving me a hungry stare again and I shuddered, my body valiantly trying to get aroused again.

“You forgot something,” he whispered and suddenly my black panties were hanging in the space between our faces, tangled around his beautiful fingers. I flushed, realising I must have flashed him when I clambered back to the passenger seat, but I could already feel the beginnings of a fresh wet heat between my legs.

I gave Baekhyun a look, which he seemed to understand judging by the annoyingly hot self-assured smirk making its way back onto his face.

“How long do you think we have before Kai gets here?”

I guess we were going to find out.

hope you enjoyed yourself <3

[paulmccart]

We're Not Gonna Take It! And the Story of How We Almost Did

Protesters outside of the PMRC senate hearings.

Are you a victim of rock? Well maybe you aren't, but all the way back in 1985 a group of prominent D.C wives felt that they were.

These women, with the help of Beach Boys member Mike Love and Joseph Coors, the owner of Coors Beers, formed the PMRC (Parents Music Resource Center).

Their reasoning for forming as co-founder Susan Baker put it:

"It started because one day my 7-year-old came in and started quoting some of Madonna's lyrics to me, wanting to know what they meant. And I was shocked. I knew that you had to be concerned about movies and TV, but I didn't have a clue that my 7-year-old would be exposed to inappropriate songs."

The goal of the PMRC was to give parents more control over what their children could listen to. As well as implementing a rating system for music with bad language, sexual themes, and anti-Christian messages just to name a few. Eventually the group made a list of the fifteen worst songs, in their opinion and labeled them "The Filthy Fifteen".

(And it also happens to make a killer playlist)

Besides a rating system and lyrics printed on album covers the PMRC had several other goals including:

"...records with explicit covers be wrapped or kept under the counter; that record companies reassess contracts with performers who engage in sexual or violent acts on stage; that broadcasters be pressured to exhibit "voluntary restraint" by not airing offending music videos, which would also be rated."

All that noise coming from the PMRC culminated on September 19th, 1985. When a hearing in the senate occurred. Two musicians were called in on behalf of the music industry, Frank Zappa and Dee Snider of Twisted Sister. Two of musics most studious and serious creatives.

Zappa and Snider both gave eloquent defenses of what they deemed to be free speech.

But the PMRC had a trick up their sleeves... or so they thought.

They'd also invited John Denver to speak that day, assuming that he would stand with the side of "family values" but they were mistaken.

John Denver's testimony was the most scathing that day. He cited his own experience with having some of his music banned from radio. Even going as far as comparing the PMRC and groups like it to Nazi book burnings.

So what did the PMRC end up accomplishing? You know those tiny explicit labels in the corner of some albums? You can thank the PMRC for those. When they were originally introduced they were called "Tipper Stickers" after one of more outspoken PMRC members Tipper Gore (wife of Al Gore).

So while we didn't exactly take it, for a time we almost did. And thanks to testimony from Frank Zappa, John Denver, and Dee Snider, we can regularly enjoy any kind of music we want to- even the songs that promote the occult.

Both photographs come from Mark Weiss who photographed the event for Rock Scene Magazine.

[gguk-n]

Chapter 4- Breaking Down Walls

Arranged For Love (Carlos Sainz Jr x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N and Carlos realise that they love each other. They tie the knot. Everything seems to perfect to be real.

Warning- Mention of death

After the two agreed to make their families happy by getting married, the preparations were in full swing. The wedding would be a black and white tie affair in the backyard of Y/N's house. Seemed like a good idea to have it be small and intimate.

As the two of them got involved picking out colours and flowers for the wedding; they felt their bond growing closer. This was a major milestone in their life and they couldn't help but feel a connection. It wasn't just the wedding or the late night calls, they had started to confide in each other and realised that maybe this whole marriage thing wouldn't be so bad, after all. They felt like they could enjoy each other's company and be able to grow as people even though they hadn't met since that dinner.

Carlos was extremely busy with the season and the talks with Ferrari. It was taking up a lot of his time and he couldn't be there for most of the wedding planning. It was just Y/N and a couple messages to choose between this or that during the preparations. A lot of the choices had her grandmother's opinion. She would let her grandma pick what she thought would be best in places where Carlos and her couldn't decide.

Y/N had been watching Carlos's races since she found out about him. She would listen to him talk about how it went and how he could improve on it with a glint in his eyes. She felt special that she could share his love for racing even though she barely understood some of the words.

Trying to juggle a semester at home while at the same time planning a wedding during her end semester exams was proving to be a bigger challenge than Y/N had anticipated. She was trying to be on top of everything to be prepared and it was causing more migraines than necessary. She might've lashed out on Carlos a couple times over text which she did apologise for since doing everything almost alone was stressing her out.

Towards the end of the racing season, Y/N was planning on going to the last race to watch Carlos but everything got cancelled due to the increasing cases in Abu Dhabi. Carlos noticed that she looked sad during call and asked, "You look sad, what's up?" She was an open book, her expressions gave her emotions away. She wasn't lying to anyone, "I had thought I'd come to your last race of the season but I can't because of the..." she trailed off, clearly distraught with the new developments. "It's fine, you can come next year. It's not like I'll be gone" he tried to joke. "True, I could attend it as Mrs Sainz" she joked. "That is correct" Carlos smiled. He felt weird hearing her refer to herself as Mrs Sainz, but he liked that.

After the post season testing, Carlos had come to meet Y/N. He had a promise to keep; he would take her out on a date before their wedding. He was able to thankfully get a reservation at a restaurant.

With the restaurant no longer operating at full capacity, would give the pair the much needed privacy. Y/N wore a fitted midi coral dress which hit her just below her knees. Carlos was wearing his signature baby blue button down with white slacks. He looked handsome as ever. "Shall we?" Carlos asked. "yes, we shall" Y/N smiled taking Carlos's hand. Y/N's grandma could be heard calling out, "Have fun. Don't stay out to late." She felt proud of herself for at least setting her grand daughter up with a gentleman.

Carlos drove them to the restaurant. Their conversation flowed easily, they laughed along at stupid jokes they said and Carlos heard Y/N softly hum along to the songs on the radio to fill in the silence. Carlos would look over, a fond smile gracing his lips. After they reached the restaurant, Carlos opened the doors for her and pulled out her chair for her. He was going to make it her best date ever; he owed her that much.

While they waited for the dinner, "I can't believe we're going to be married in 2 weeks" Y/N mulled over her thoughts. All the preparations were done, they would have the wedding arch in the backyard and a day before the wedding; they would have a rehearsal dinner. She had skipped over the bachelorette even though her best friend wanted to throw her one. They decided to stick to a sleep over the night before. "I can't either. When we met I didn't expect to marry you" Carlos said. "Me neither. I fought my parents, more like disagreed with them" Y/N hummed. "Me too. I just didn't expect to marry so soon" Carlos stated. "Yeah, I didn't expect to be married before I graduated either" Y/N laughed. "But the world works in mysterious ways I guess" she shrugged her shoulders.

The food was great, "This is so good. I don't know why I never came here before" she told Carlos. Carlos smiled and raised his hand to wipe the food off the corner of her mouth. Y/N's eyes widened as Carlos's fingers brushed past her lips. She instinctively pulled away, apologising. "There was something there" Carlos said cleaning his finger with his tongue. Y/N watched as Carlos's finger, the same one that was on her lips moments ago touched his tongue. She quickly looked at her food, which seemed way more interesting suddenly. Her heart was beating fast, a lot faster than she had expected. Watching Carlos made her feel hot and bothered. She felt like crap for the unholy thoughts that were plaguing her mind.

Thankfully, the dinner ended without any more hiccups. And Carlos drove her back to her place. The next two weeks, Carlos's family flew in and they all enjoyed the pleasant Spring weather before the wedding and letting the to be weds to spend some much needed time together.

One of those days, Y/N's best friend, Ava came over to meet the man that would be marrying her best friend. Ava was fiercely protective of Y/N and when she found out about the arranged marriage situation, she a had a bit of a fight with Y/N's grandmother regarding Y/N's wedding. She couldn't believe she would get her grand daughter married off to some random dude. She was very close to their family since they'd been friends since middle school. Y/N tried to deescalate the fight but it only ended when Y/N dragged Ava to her room. "Grandma isn't that bad" she began. "You're saying that because she's your grandmother who is sick. I get it, I really do but an arranged marriage. I didn't think she was that old fashioned." Ava sighed. "She isn't. Plus the guy she chose is hot hot" Y/N whispered. "Show me" Ava spoke slowly, unsure of her friend. Y/N pulled out her phone and showed a picture of Carlos. "He's a F1 driver" she explained further. "Oh, he's rich rich" Ava smirked. "He'll be driving for Ferrari next year" Y/N added further. "Oh My God, he's loaded. I don't think we could've pulled him" Ava sighed, accepting defeat.

So, when she met Carlos for the first time, she played the part of the skeptical best friend well; going as far as to threaten him. Carlos only smiled, happy that Y/N was surrounded by people who loved and cared for her. He promised Ava to always take care of her best friend.

The day of the rehearsal dinner came quicker than any one expected, the to be weds were dressed in pastel colours and both their families and friends were sat at the table. They went over the schedule for the next day. The weather was a lot nicer, with the sun setting on them. The atmosphere was perfect to be getting married in. As Carlos watched Y/N interact with his family, he felt it. He thought about everything; all the weird feeling he had when talking to her or thinking about her; it made him realise that maybe just maybe he liked her. Y/N couldn't say she wasn't feeling the same. She had always wanted to be with someone who meshed well with her family. She never thought it would be someone chosen by her family, but right now she saw it. She decided to finally acknowledge all the feelings she's been feeling and perhaps she liked Carlos more than she let on and spending forever with him didn't sound as bad.

After the rehearsal dinner, when everyone was dispersing; Y/N asked Carlos to speak to her in private. She wanted to tell him how she felt and how she wanted to go forward with this marriage. She didn't expect Carlos to feel the same but she felt like she wanted to lay the ground work for what the relationship she wanted to be like. "Carlos, I wanted to tell you something" she breathed in, "Go on" Carlos encouraged her. "I know we started off the way we did and I know we are getting married because of my grand mother but along the way I've realised as I spoke to you more and got to know you more that I like you. Not as a friend or someone I was forced to spend time with way but someone I see a future with. Regardless of what happens 5 years or 10 years down the line, I want you to know that I'm not marrying you because my grandmother told me, kind of true but that's beside the point, but I'm marrying you because right now, in this moment, I like you. I've liked you for a while but it was watching you with everyone today, cemented it for me" Y/N finished without a break. Carlos's lips turned up into a smile and he took her hands in his, "I realised that now too, during the rehearsal dinner that maybe spending the rest of my life with you didn't sound like a bad idea or something I was being forced to do. I like you too Y/N" Carlos replied. "Can I kiss you?" Y/N asked looking at Carlos's lips. "Yeah" Carlos breathed and Y/N stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. Carlos's hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer. Y/N placing her hands on his cheeks, "Maybe when everything settles down we can have a big wedding with everyone" Y/N asked hopefully after pulling away from the kiss. "Maybe we can" Carlos replied.

Ava and Y/N had a fun sleepover, watching movies and pampering each other. Y/N woke up refreshed and well rested, all thanks to her best friend. The day of the wedding was as hectic as expected. Anika helped her grand daughter dress up. She was very happy zipping up the gorgeous gown Y/N had picked out and then she took the necklace off of her neck and put it on Y/N's neck. "I always thought I would give this to you. But when you said you loved it when I bought it, I knew I had to give it to you" Anika smiled and clasped the necklace. "I love it" Y/N smiled at the necklace and her reflection. "I'm happy I get to share this with you" Y/N said, hugging her grandma. "I'm happy you're happy. I never thought I'd get to see my grand daughter get married ever" Anika said wiping her tears. "You have a lot to live for. You have to attend my graduation, play with my kids. I can't wait for you to come to my graduation tho" Y/N smiled brightly. "You want this old hag at your graduation" Anika asked. "Obviously, you practically raised me. I'm here because of you. Even if my parents can't make it, I want you there" she told her grandma. "Okay" she smiled at her grand daughter.

The wedding was wonderful, they had a few generic vows written down and read them out as the ceremony progressed. It was followed by dinner where you could hear everyone talking and laughing and having a good time. The family had come together and even though it was small yet quaint; Y/N couldn't have asked for a better day. She ended the night by dancing with her grandma.

Sadly, their happiness was short lived. Because soon after the wedding, Anika's health started to decline. She hadn't been able to stomach any food. She was barely able to walk at a point. The hospital visits were erratic since they couldn't go due to COVID which meant the family tried to provide Anika with all the care that they could.

It was getting harder, day by day to provide her the care she needed and when things got really tough, they were finally able to have her admitted in a hospital. Y/N had come to visit her grandma at the hospital. People weren't allowed to come as often, so she was sat with her grandma's hand in hers, after a long time. "You'll be good as new in no time" Y/N said, tears threatening to fall. "I'm okay sweetheart, whether I live or die, I've seen everything I wanted to. I just hope you all are always happy" Anika whispered. "You still have a lot to see" Y/N crocked. "Can I speak with Carlos?" Anika asked. Y/N FaceTimed Carlos, who answered immediately. "Hello, dear" Anika spoke. "Hi grandma, how are you?" Carlos asked. "I'm okay. I just wanted to talk to you both together." she said looking at her grand daughter. "You can talk to us whenever" Carlos reassured. "I know I forced you two to get married, so I'm sorry for putting you two in a tough spot. I was selfish and I wanted to have one last happy moment" she said. "You'll have more" Y/N interrupted. Anika smiled, "I just hope you two are happy forever. I will only wish for happiness in your lives whether I'm a part of it or not" Anika breathed. out. "Thank you for bringing me Y/N. You have no idea how happy she makes me" Carlos said. "I'm glad, dear. I hope you two will take care of each other" she sighed. "Forgive this old woman for meddling in your lives. I promise, I just wanted what was good for you" she smiled weakly. Y/N soon cut the call and spent some time with her grandma before she had to leave. Her aunt would be staying over for the next few hours.

As she got home, she was informed that her grandmother wasn't doing too well and they weren't sure, she would make it. Y/N was optimistic, her grandma had been to the hospital before and returned after the treatment. But this time was different. A few hours later, in the middle of the night, Y/N was informed that her grandmother had passed away. She couldn't believe it, she didn't believe it, not for a couple hours, not until she saw it herself. She felt the world came crashing down on her, she sat there letting the words sink in as the world seemed to rush past her. Her grand mother, who had raised her, had passed away on a beautiful spring night. How was she supposed to go on?

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[ohdeerfully]

Alastor and reader singing jazz songs together and then reader dips Alastor and he gets all flustered? Like maybe reader notices that Alastor is having a sad time (without frowning of course he always smiles) and sings to cheer him up and then they dance together. Just general fluff? Thanks for having open requests! Remember to drink water and eat a snack!

Yess yes!! My first request >:)) i hope this was fluffy enough and not TOO ooc!

Them There Eyes

Alastor x Reader (fluff)

TW: None here (:

join my discord!

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You knew Alastor better than you would care to admit. How come you, of all people, could tell when that ever-prominent smile he held was more strained than usual? You always noticed when his ears twisted slightly back, and when his brows wrinkled with an emotion he would never admit to feeling.

Was it that you knew him and just noticed these things? Or did he allow himself to loosen up his usual chipper façade around you? You honestly weren’t really sure, but you were definitely sure that something was not right with him as you watched him from the doorway of the radio tower he seemed to frequent more often lately.

He sat with his back against a red and black couch with an eye-themed pillow, one leg kicked up over the other and gently bouncing as he stared dismissively at the papers in front of him. His hands absentmindedly tossed that cane of his between his hands. You knew he was aware of your presence, probably long before you even entered the room. One couldn’t really sneak up on the famed Radio Demon. It was just strange that he had yet to acknowledge your presence.

Both of his ears flattened the slightest millimeter, but that was enough of a sign for you to finally enter the room, carefully stepping yourself to the side of the couch. You tilted your head and balanced on one foot as you tried to angle your body oh-so-inconspicuously in his line of sight.

With a look at his face, you saw that smile of his still stood strong against his sour mood, although it was a tight grin. Almost like a grimace. You straightened yourself out again and sat down on the arm of the couch, carefully not to get too close. You knew he tended to get claustrophobic, especially in this sort of state.

“Alastor,” You spoke, trying to make him acknowledge your existence. You saw that strain in his lips get even tighter, obviously not thrilled at you interrupting his brooding time. You remained silent, gently looking at him and watching the smallest movements of his ears, his lips, his eyes…

Finally, his red eyes closed and he heaved a sigh.

“(Y/N), as much as I take pleasure in your company…” He trailed, thinking about whether or not to shoo you away or let himself be so vulnerable in front of you. He decided neither option, and you watched as his whole demeanor changed in an attempt to stick that gleeful façade of his back up. “What prompted you to grace my evening with your presence?”

You knew better, obviously, than to believe that gleeful look on his face, especially after witnessing the state he was in literal seconds ago.

You eyed his perky grin. And that twitch of some sort of emotion that broke the corner of his lip. This guy… you thought, with a mental roll of your eyes.

With a motion for permission, which was given, you scooted down off the arm and next to him. Your fingers tenderly interlaced with his.

“You know,” You began, looking around the room and coming up with a scheme that was sure to put him in better spirits. His eyes followed your every move, flicking away from your face every now and then to see if there was anything of interest that had caught your eyes. “...I was listening to some songs on that old radio you gave me.”

This piqued his interest quickly. You could tell in the way his head tilted and his eyes squinted quizzically at you.

“I’m glad you are enjoying the gift, dearest,” He responded. The buzz of radio frequency in his voice was noticeably less prominent than usual, but it still stuck a tickling sensation to your skin. A sensation that had grown to be more comforting than irritating. “I assume there was something you enjoyed, to be bringing it up all of the sudden?”

“Yes,” You nodded at his question, a small hum of a sigh escaping your lips as you worked up some courage. “Stay here.”

Alastor obliged as you stood and took off down the hall. You were back only minutes later with said radio carefully gripped between your fingers.

Of course, seeing as it was a gift from the Radio Demon, the majority of the music the radio played was old jazz music. It was fun background noise usually, though, so you had quickly learned how to tune and play the thing.

You gently turned a nob, and then another, adjusting the frequency and volume of the radio. Alastor watched, a slight hint of admiration in his gaze as you fiddled with the gift he had given you. He couldn’t help but feel a greedy sense of pride knowing you liked it so much.

A tune began to play through the black mesh front, and you tugged on Alastor’s hand as an upbeat band got straight to the point in their song. You noticed a glint in the demon’s eyes and a genuine smirk quirking his lips.

You held each other’s hands, loosely jerking your arms and stepping towards, away, towards each other to the rapid tempo of the song. Alastor seemed to recognize the song, likely something from his own life, as he sang along to the voice in the radio. You were able to join in with your own makeshift humming.

You felt your chest inflate with the joy of seeing that genuine smile return to his face, and that recognizable crinkle in his eyes that you knew meant he wasn’t just putting up his usual front. Those eyes of his made your stomach flutter, especially when they looked down at you with a softness that only you knew.

He twisted you around him, and you rapidly stepped your feet in a circle to the song. You were starting to lose breath, but you ignored it for the sake of keeping up with the man in front of you. Who, unsurprisingly, had great stamina for this kind of thing.

Without thinking too much, with a trill of an instrument in the band, you stuck your leg between Alastor’s and curled your elbow and forearm over his waist, using your hand to push his torso down and against your leg, successfully dipping the vastly taller demon over.

The position was held for a moment, with your eyes locked on his widened. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. He seemed barely winded. You wouldn’t dare point it out, but the gray color of his face had begun to dust with a warm blush as he was held precariously over your leg. At some point in the move, his hand had come up to grab the back of your neck. Prickling sensations rolled up and down at the feeling of his sharpened nails digging gently into your skin.

You inched your face towards his, watching his expression for any signs of rejection. When there wasn’t, you lightly pressed your lips against his, and you felt him grin against the kiss. He pushed himself up and on his feet, though maintaining a bent at the waist to keep his lips against yours.

How strange it was, you thought, being like this with one of the most feared overlords in Hell.

Breaking away, he straightened himself and smoothed down his clothes and brushed away imaginary dust. That smile of his was back, real this time. 

“Why, what a treat you are, my dear!” He exclaimed, grabbing his cane from the couch and leaning on it as he crossed one leg over the other, examining your exhausted and slightly disheveled state.

Usually, you would take care to smooth down your hair and straighten out your shirt. Momentarily, though, you just cared to see that genuine look of happiness on your demon’s face. Not that Alastor cared about your current state, of course. 

Another song began to play through the radio, and Alastor bowed and flourished his hand out towards you. You had only just caught your breath, but you took his hand again anyway and he tugged you towards him.

[thef1diary]

For Danny Ric! I'm so exited! Fluff 1, Promt 8. I think a debate over the music playing on the car radio would be great. I love Danny's roadtrip vibes.

Road Trip | D. Ricciardo

prompt: friendly debates that quickly end with them laughing at how ridiculous it was

wc: 700+

masterlist 3k celebration

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

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You're on a road trip with Daniel, cruising down a scenic highway with the windows rolled down, the wind tousling your hair. Daniel's driving, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh. The sky is a perfect blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds, and the road ahead is open and inviting. The landscape rushes by in a blur of greens and browns as he drives a little over the speed limit, the hum of the wind providing a soothing background noise.

"Okay, music," you declare, reaching for your phone.

Daniel raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Wait a second, I'm the one driving. Driver gets to choose music right?"

You chuckle, shaking your head. "I know you're used to driving alone, but the unwritten rule of road trips is passenger has the aux control."

"Oh really?" he challenges, glancing at you with mock seriousness. "I think the driver needs the tunes to stay focused."

"Yeah, well, the passenger needs to keep the driver entertained," you retort, connecting your phone to the aux.

Daniel lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes in exaggerated exasperation. "I'm the one doing all the work here, steering us safely to our destination. That means I should choose the songs too."

You cross your arms, feigning stubbornness. "That makes no sense, Danny. I'm the one keeping you company, making sure you don't fall asleep at the wheel."

He scoffs, "with your choice of songs, I will definitely fall asleep at the wheel."

You gasp, holding your phone close to your chest. "I could say the same about your taste. You listen to country music."

"Don't disrespect good ol' tunes, darling. You just want to play that one song on repeat," he stated, glancing at you and flashing a grin.

"It's a great song!" you insist, mirroring his grin.

"Great for making me doze off," he teases, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Come on, you know my playlist is solid. It's got everything we need for a perfect road trip," he adds, slightly squeezing your thigh.

You become too aware of his hand resting on your thigh, and in the heat of your debate, you move it away, earning a frown from him.

"Sure, if we want to turn this into a country-western saga," you retorted, unable to suppress a smile. "Besides, variety is necessary. We can't be stuck listening to the same kind of songs for hours."

Daniel laughs, his hand finding his way back on your thigh as he gives in. "Fine, fine, let's settle this. Name a song that's a must for any road trip."

You both throw out suggestions, each defending your choices with increasing passion. The debate grows more animated as you argue over the best songs to keep you both entertained and awake. Daniel insists on the classics he loves, especially since it's a countryside road trip, while you disagreed, encouraging other artists. Back and forth you banter, poking fun at the other's taste in music, even though it wasn't a serious issue.

Finally, you realize how absurd the argument is and burst out laughing simultaneously.

"This is ridiculous," you manage to say between giggles. "We're debating over who plays the songs."

"Exactly," Daniel agrees, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye that slipped out while laughing. "We're wasting time when we could've been enjoying some good music."

"Alright, how about we compromise?" you suggest, still chuckling. "We alternate between our songs."

"Deal," he agrees, extending a hand for a shake while steering with the other.

You clasp his hand, nodding formally as you seal the agreement. Daniel takes the first pick, choosing a song he enjoys. As the familiar beats fill the car, you cover your ears playfully, but the smile on your face tells him it's all in jest. You both sing along, creating your own little concert on wheels.

When the song ends, you take your turn, choosing a track that's currently your favourite. Daniel groans, having heard the song too many times to count, but he can't resist singing along with you. The rest of the drive is filled with a perfect mix of your favorite songs. Even though you both complain every time the other picks a song, you still sing along to each one, enjoying every moment.

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[delinquentfiction]

Dancing Lessons With the Radio Demon

Content: Alastor x GN!Reader, no use of y/n, size difference mentions, reader is sleepy, fluff

Word count: 2,076

No trigger warnings

The bed creaks slightly as you turn and wiggle on it, trying to get into a comfortable spot. Unfortunately, despite the pure exhaustion from your day of running errands for the hotel and essentially being the gofer, your brain refuses to allow you to slip into sweet unconsciousness. It has now gotten to that lovely part of restlessness where no matter how you lay, no matter how long you stare at your phone to distract yourself, you cannot get comfortable. At this point there is nothing you can think of but to get up and find something to do and hope that something is enough to help your brain calm down. You don’t care if you fall asleep walking down the stairs as long as you get a wink.

You wrap your blanket around yourself before leaving the bed, not willing to part with it. Once up and walking you felt like one of those edited cat memes with those dumb relatable captions. One of the good things from life that still made it down into Hell. Cats look different down here and look slightly terrifying with their shark-like 4-way opening mouths, but they’re cats nonetheless.

Once in the hall, you somehow feel like you’re stomping and floating at the same time. Not awake enough to be fully aware, but aware enough of how your walking is the only noise being made. At least in the part of the hotel you reside in. As you meander around and approach the grand staircase, you hear the faint sounds of piano and sax playing a slow jazzy tune. Right then you were reminded that there would be only one other person awake at this hour. A person a little too chipper for the state you were in, but at least it would be company.

You recalled how when you were alive people would say that sometimes it would be hard to sleep because your brain feels like it’s in danger and having someone there or having a stuffed animal can help. Things that trick your brain into thinking you’re protected. Would you feel safe around this ever smiling demon? Would the same logic even carry over now that you’re a demon? Well, you’re going to find out.

As you wander up the hotel floors the song becomes louder and the air seems to feel thicker. It’s not as if it’s never been ominous to visit Alastor’s room before, after all you never know what you’ll open his door to see him doing. There’s always that little fear at the back of your head telling you that you know better than to walk right into a lion’s den like this. The feeling that just walking into his room is asking for a contract you’ll regret later but can’t refuse in the moment.

Once you reach his door, everything comes to a halt. Your walking, his music, and even time, seemingly. Did he know you were standing here? Just outside his door? Did you make a noise you didn’t hear but he did? That wouldn’t be unusual for you. Maybe he was simply getting ready to play a different record. ‘Perhaps now is the time to interrupt, then.’

You softly knock on his door and almost immediately the door swings open which causes you to jump back a little in surprise. He looms over you, crimson eyes peering down over a practically glowing sharp grin. You stare up at him, a shy smile slowly creeping onto your face. “Why, good evening! To what do I owe the pleasure of such a late visit?” Alastor greets.

You stutter a bit as you answer. “Ah, good evening! I just couldn’t sleep and I thought that, uh, I should come say hi!”

“Well, this is a very nice visit! I don't get many late-night callers these days; make yourself at home!” He opens his door wider and gestures with a grand swish of his arm for you to come inside.

And you do. As you walk in you glance around his room, wondering what he was up to while listening to his music. Some of his furniture was moved closer to the walls and a fire blazed in his fireplace, growing ever bigger as a breeze came in from the forest half of his room. ‘Huh, didn’t know that there was weather in here. Noted and hoping it never rains.’ With the warmth of the fireplace it feels unnecessary to have a blanket on so you placed it on one of the couches that is pushed to the side.

“I didn’t have much to do tonight so I resorted to getting into the swing of dancing to pass the time.” The red head explains as he made his way to an awaiting record player that looked to have seen better days, but from what you heard on your way here, it did it’s job much better than appearance would lead you to believe. “Would you care to join me, my dear?”

“Join you? Oh, I don’t really know how to-”

“I’m sure you’ll pick it right up! It does get so boring singing and dancing by oneself, and you seem like you need something to pass the time, yourself.” He looks over his shoulder at you, record in hand. His usual big grin had become more of a smirk, as if he knew about your tired wondering.

You nod at him, figuring he just wasn’t going to take a ‘no’ or an ‘I’d rather watch you dance and hang out on your couch’. You step over to the record player and pick up the sleeve the demon got the record out of. Judging by the title, it seemed to be a collection of old hits from the 30’s. None of which you were familiar with. There is a respect that comes with older music since more modern music couldn’t exist without it, however older music just tends to be a bit too slow for your liking. Perhaps you’ve been listening to the wrong songs though, since Alastor doesn’t entirely seem to be the type to enjoy slow music either. At least not on boring nights with guests like tonight.

As you set the sleeve back down where you found it, music started playing from the record player. A bit distorted at first but sounding just as clear and blaring as it was earlier once it had a second to do its thing. A much more energetic tune than earlier begins to play, confirming your earlier suspicions. Alastor leads you to the center of the room where it’s the clearest and stands next to you, offering his hand for you to hold. It was when you comply and take his hand in yours you begin to remember the sheer difference in size between you two. His clawed hand easily swallowed yours and at this closer proximity than normal it felt like he was a tower to you being a cottage.

“Now, all we’re gonna start with is moving side to side like this.” He shifts his weight from foot to foot, keeping his hips loose and going with the motion. You stare for a moment before awkwardly (at least it felt awkward) mimicking the action. “Use the same foot I’m using on my count. 1, 2, 3, 4.” He kept count until you got it and were able to keep up. Simple enough. “Now we’re going to do the same, but vertical. Slightly more tricky, try not to tie your legs together, dear. Outside foot goes back.” It was trickier, and you did lose balance in the beginning, but luckily Alastor didn’t entirely seem to mind it. You guess it would be less bothersome to someone who could lift you with their pinky. You think you got it down and it seems that Alastor thought so too when he directs, “Now we’ll combine them. Bring your outside foot back up, there you go, and rock on your outside foot, inside foot, outside foot rocks back, then rock back to the front foot.”

As soon as you got that down Alastor was off, adding an extra tapping step, throwing in a few kicks for himself, even switching the position so you were holding hands in front of each other. Once in front of the other you could swear that Alastor is staring a bit too intensely. It’s like he is attempting to peer further into your being and get a better read on your soul. What is more jarring is you could swear his eyes flicker to your lips and stay there, but your tired brain isn’t able to confirm for sure that’s what you saw. Honestly, you had no idea what was going on. Trying to focus hard on his steps and mimic and predict them was difficult, especially in your half awake brain. Considering he kept going you figured you were somehow keeping up well enough; you haven’t been looking at his face much, trying to watch his feet.

Your focus retreats entirely once you hear him say something, but as you look up at him you are suddenly stumbling right into a twirl and then into the deer demons’ chest; one clawed hand now on your waist and the other moving your hand to his padded shoulder. Your nose suddenly filled with a pine and metallic smell and your face so close to the crimson fabric of his clothes, it took a second before you realized your feet had been dragged for a second before the both of you weren’t moving.

“I did try to tell you I was going to pull you in, my dear.” His radio filtered voice brought you fully back. You find your footing again and look hesitantly up at his ever grinning face. Alastor is leaning over you, face coming closer until his sharp teeth become a little too close. Just inches from your own lips.

“Sorry.” One of your feet tries to go back so you would be able to create a bit of distance so you could see him properly, but his hand on your waist keeps you solid against him. You instead opt to move your hand from his shoulder to his lapel to keep your stability. ‘Did he just freeze for a second?’

The demons’ grin widens impossibly more, eyes flashing with an unknown emotion. “No need to apologize, my sleepy friend. I’ve found your company to be quite pleasant on this eventful night. Perhaps it’s time to bring this evening to an end.” He suggests. The hand that is still holding yours let’s go and lands on top of yours on his lapel. “ You caught onto the steps very quickly. You do enjoy keeping me on my toes.”

“Thank you.” You reply a bit flatly, your vision starting to unfocus as you stare at your joined hands. You both were just dancing so it makes sense, but somehow the warmth was still causing cogs in your mind to stutter. As if you can’t believe this as anything but a dream. “I think it’s time I head back to my room. I think I’m at the point where I could go into a coma for the next few days.”

He chuckled a bit to himself. “I see that. You look like you’re going to collapse as soon as I let go of you. Tell you what, I’ll send you back to your room if you agree to come back for lessons after supper tomorrow night. A time when you should be more awake. I am so curious to see how you fare fully awake.” You nod your head numbly, just wanting to allow sleep to take you. “Splendid! Have a lovely rest, dear.”

As he snaps the fingers on his free hand, you could feel the floor disappear under you. Before you could drop, Alastor allows you to essentially float for a second while he lifts your hand he had been covering and kisses the back of it. Next thing you know you fall into inky blackness before feeling the familiar softness of your bed. As sleep begins to over take you, you think back upon those final moments and let them sink in. ‘Oh shit.’ The radio demon just kissed the back of your hand. Not to mention, he also now has one of your blankets. Your eyes snap open, and suddenly you didn’t feel tired anymore. ‘God fucking damn it, Alastor.’

[weebsinstash]

Thinking bout how mean demi Alastor would be regarding the post cheating/meltdown/breakup sex… he’s still a sadist and now that he’s more comfortable with physical intimacy and like 20% more deranged that def gets reflected in his “catering to your needs”. Overstim, edging, anything that leaves you at his “mercy”

Reader, visibly sweating because YOU know that HE knows most of the dirty dirty nasty NASTY SHENANIGANS you've committed in the last month or two of Just Straight Up Sluttery: so Alastor, now that you've discovered this new part of yourself, surely you've, uh, developed some new tastes and healthy outlets for intimacy?

Alastor, who's just spent the last several weeks rounding up all your sexual partners and he does mean ALL of them to torture every last detail of what you did out of them, and has recently discovered how much he likes the feeling of a riding crop in his hands, along with a list of kinks where cheating/cuckoldry is definitely NOT one of them: oh yes :) healthy outlets :) so anyways my pet, about your punishment--

You're just like "ok Alastor um, since you're new to this and old fashioned you probably want to, cuddle, and, ease into it, and--" bitch he wants to tie you up. Bitch he has developed SUCH a craving for watching you tied up and helpless because, oh you're so sweet and vulnerable and need him to protect you ❤️ his sweet vulnerable little doe ❤️ aw, your struggling is so cute ❤️ do you want to be let go? Guess you better beg nice and pretty~

I dunno man... I was LITERALLY discussing a concept like this with an asexual buddy of mine actually, the amount of aces horny for Alastor is giving, truly, and we were MUTUALLY like, "listen... listen... asexuality is real and we respect that, ok... but it's also a spectrum... and I want this man going his entire life and afterlife not caring or having a taste for those things UNTIL he meets you and he has to deal with, discover, and come to understand all his new desires" and I keep thinking of multiple ways to swing that?

Just him having his equivalent of his first schoolboy crush and not knowing why he can't stop himself from laughing at your jokes? Why is he suddenly so... POSSESSIVE of your company? Why does he want to hurt the men who come around you even more than usual? He goes to Rosie for advice and she's just, DROPPING HER TEA CUP, "oh ALASTOR HONEY, you've got yourself a little crush!!" and all but squealing with delight as she wants ALL the details and, well, Rosie IS a trusted friend... and once he starts talking about you, he can't stop himself for some reason, he just enjoys sharing little details and stories and things about you amd, oh gosh Rosie you should hear this thing that happened the other day it was just the most charming little--

I want this man coming to take you back and he's kicking some door down and he finds you THROATING A GUY. I want it AWKWARD. I want him finding you doing something that immediately makes everyone involved go OH SHIT. I want some dude freaking out hollering "THE RADIO DEMON?!" because he and a buddy were spitroasting you on your hands and knees and you give a very recognizable "alastor????" around the dude's meat CLEARLY KNOWING THE GUY and your unlucky one night stand has his Oh Fuck moment as he makes perfect eye contact with the notorious cannibal who is currently witnessing this, uh, gentleman having his hand fisted in your hair as he--

Just the mental image of, it's the end of the night or even the morning and the fucking sun is coming up or, their time equivalent of sunrise since I don't think they have like days and nights, but, Alastor is just sitting there reading a book humming to himself, completely put together not a hair out of place, with candles going, a gentle song on the radio, and beside him you're just facedown completely naked in bed with welts all over your ass as his shadow gives you a nice aftercare massage. Dude just sips some coffee, humming and smirking as he regards you "now did we learn our lesson about... making impulsive unsafe decisions without consulting our partner?"

you, still face down as your legs still refuse to stop shaking: that if I want to get fucked really hard all I have to do is commit adultery?

Alastor, who has recently discovered all the Super Fun New Ways he can fuck 'discipline' you for riling him up and getting him jealous on purpose because now that he's finally acting like this it's all but making you a cat in heat 'being a brat', smiling with legitimate sadistic glee as he reaches for a pair of leather gloves: incorrect :)

[syoddeye]

kinktober - day 29 - hunter & prey

kate x f!reader | 3.3k words cw: horror/supernatural, stalking, victim-blaming, manipulation, gaslighting, violence, blood, compulsion/glamour, minor character death a/n: while reader is physically featureless, her voice is described for radio, including trained for clear diction + articulation, and sultry + rasping sounding. just a heads up. also, i took a lot of liberties wth the tech. this was meant to clock in around 1k. no, i don't know what this is. summary: kate places a certain kind of collect call. banner by @/cafekitsune | kinktober list

You arrive at the station well after sunset and relieve the second shift.

The time flashes when you clock in, a perfect and punctual 11:00 PM, and as you hang your keys, you hear the automatic coffee maker whirr to life in the kitchenette. You’ve been working these shifts for a while now, and the late hours and routine are like an old coat—heavy but well-worn. Comfortable and broken in to fit. 

You grab a mug and slip into the booth. 

Once the headphones are on, the world outside shrinks. It’s just you, the equipment, and the airwaves. Your job is simple: ensure the tunes persist, avoid dead air, and take calls. The latter rarely ever happens. Your coverage area is largely rural, with the highway sourcing most callers. Truckers and roadtrippers set on reaching wherever they’re headed, racing the dawn to shave off hours. Scattered in the night. For the majority of your shift, you're just there to keep things running smoothly and uninterrupted.

And although you know you’re never speaking to just one person, the calls feel personal and private. Like it’s just you and them on the air. Your tone is coached low and intimate, trained for clarity and articulation. Fine-tuned modulation. A sultry, rasping voice put on, in short, to keep your listeners company in the scarce moments you need to.

Some hours in, the switchboard lights up.

You feed them your usual greeting, eyes already surveying the song queue. Nine times out of ten, your callers are older men in their semi trucks, with some nostalgic number on their minds. Tonight, though, a woman chirps down the line. 

“Thanks for taking my call. Long night?”

“Isn’t it always?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The pause that follows makes you fidget. Even if nobody cares about your timeslot, even if you’re more security guard than host—you can’t entertain too much talking. Especially platitudes.

“Too true. What’s your request?”

Another pause. Your finger hovers over the dump button.

“You know the song ‘When the Sun Hits’?”

It’s already pulled up in the library by the time she finishes asking. Nostalgic, indeed. “Slowdive, 1993? Yeah, I’ll have add it to the lineup for you, caller, after–”

“What about ‘Some Velvet Morning’?” 

You stare at the blinking light of the call. Nobody ever interrupts you. Swallowing, you laugh, a touch irritated. “I can play both of those in a bit, I promise. Big fan of Slowdive? ”

“Not really, but oh, I bet you have a pretty face to match that voice, huh?”

Heat flares beneath your skin and you dump the last seven seconds, then disconnect. You check the computer, sighing in relief when the program cuts you off at ‘promise’, and seamlessly transitions into the next song. You jot down the time and a note about the incident, then block the phone number. 

You let go of a long, aggravated sigh and stare out the window closest to the booth. It’s pitch black outside. Dawn is hours away.

Being a woman on air, this is, unfortunately, part and parcel of your work. Creeps whisper some lines about your voice and what they imagine your body to look like. The fact it’s a woman is a first, but bad behavior is bad behavior. You add the songs to the queue for continuity and fetch another cup of coffee.

That’s the end of that.

Marc, the second shift host, points to a printout in the booth before he leaves one night.

“No need to run the story again, but the boss wants to make sure this place is locked tight. Alright?” 

You skim the notice, squinting at the text and then the blurred, black-and-white images: a man’s driver’s license photo and a plate. The word ‘missing’ below them, and a brief incident statement from the sheriff. Some man wandered off from his broken-down vehicle and hasn’t been seen since.

“Do they think he’s some psycho killer, then? An escapee?”

“Nah, don’t think so. I heard from my cousin,” Marc leers down his nose. “Who’s dating a deputy, that they found blood all over the car. Poor bastard’s corpse is probably face down in bluestem and buckthorn. Or in pieces at the mile markers.”

Your lips curl in disgust at the picture that paints and your coworker’s macabre. 

While Marc’s headlights in the parking lot shine through the panes, you check the door and windows.

“...and you’re live. What’s your request?”

“Hello again.”

Your heart jumps, fingers already flying over the keyboard to check the block list. “Hi. What’s your request?” The show must go on.

“How about ‘Private Eyes’? Hall and Oates.” 

Your brain struggles to reconcile what you’re hearing and what you’re reading: Blocked — inappropriate conduct toward the host. It’s right there, timestamped and all, but a second look at the current call slumps your shoulders. A new number.

She must’ve spoofed it.

“Yeah, I can play that. Have a goodnight.”

You hang up, cutting off whatever unwelcomed compliment she had for you this time, and block the number. It rankles, though, why someone would go through the trouble of using a fake number to call. And a week later? A shameful part of you preens, horrifyingly flattered by the idea of some disaffected woman finds your voice alone so alluring she’s compelled to hear it.

Not like many people trip over themselves for an underpaid, wannabe radio personality, anyway.

The woman calls again. And again. And again.

You’re a captive audience. Forced to keep the conversation as light and breezy as possible, as well as short. She keeps her requests locked behind small talk, always a compliment or two deep. 

You sounded great last night when you introduced that Fleetwood Mac hour, sweetie.

You’ve got no competition in the county, that’s for sure.

I could listen to you read Radiohead’s entire discography.

Your least favorite? 

Hope you keep yourself warm and rest your voice. It’s a cold one tonight.

However, you learn a single detail. A name. A token you earn after threading your desperation through the grit of your teeth.

“You know, you’re one of my long-time listeners, and frequent callers,” You cajole, stomach churning at the act. “What should I call you?”

“Watcher.” 

After the dozenth call, you stop allowing her past your spiel. She leaves you hot under the collar and squirming in your chair every time. Irritation sinks its teeth into your chest when you slam the phone down; its force crushing and unrelenting. Yet somewhere in your stomach, there’s a flicker of heat, unwelcome and mortifying, responding to the suggestion in her voice despite yourself. She’s wearing you down, draining what reserves you have. You think about ignoring the phone altogether, yanking its cord out of the wall, but you know it wouldn’t fly.

You write a report, detail your ‘conversations’ and their frequency, and stay late to intercept the station owner and morning host. Ron. He’s prime time, the commuter show that nets all the ads. The money maker. He gives you two minutes to explain the mysterious woman and her unsettling comments—but that’s all he gives you. 

“And ‘I bet you have a pretty face to match that voice’ is the worst she’s said? She’s only said ‘hello’ the other times?”

A muscle in your jaw twitches.

“Well, yes, but–”

“Look, kid, I don’t know what you want me to do. You have the power, it’s your show,” He handwaves, slapping the coffee pot as it sputters to life. “Block the numbers. Dump her calls. Sounds like another bored housewife with a chip on her shoulder. Probably unsatisfied, or her husband’s two-timing.”

Your nose wrinkles with every syllable. “So I’m just supposed to put up with it? I have to deal with it alone?”

His eyebrows lift, then plummet, as if they’re about to punch the wire frame glasses right off his face. “You don’t have to do anything. Plenty of butts want that seat. Podcasts and radio shows are cool again,” he emphasizes with an exaggerated undulation of his arms. “So yeah, I suggest you toughen up. Gonna need a thick skin if you want to move on, y’know. Those guys eat girls like you for breakfast.”

Ron excuses himself and leaves you seething outside the booth.

The worst part is that he’s not entirely wrong. While you plan to eventually move on to a bigger station, maybe head East—you’ll need grit. The shock jocks and talking heads? They’re old guard. Yeah, Ron’s a jerk, but you do wield some power here. Even if it’s only in the middle of the night and pre-dawn.

Another man disappears off the highway. Closer to the facility by miles. Troopers find his truck overturned in a ditch and publicly disclose that beer bottles were found strewn about the crash site. Probably a drunk driver.

Marc doesn’t believe it for a moment and tells you as much when you clock in.

Ron declines to hear you out about your stranger again, but he installs a bigger deadbolt.

“Why are you doing this? Why do you keep calling me?”

“Rockwell, if you don’t mind.”

“Please tell me.”

“And the song, well, you know which song,” she sighs, wistful. “A little on the nose, but…”

“Watcher—“

You panic and press the dump button three times, causing a glitch that leads to thirty seconds of silence between tracks. Ron leaves a scrawling, angry note the next day, written in a hand so furious, it’s near-illegible: any more dead air and somebody else will take your chair.

Maybe you ought to quit, but it’s his voice in the back of your head that echoes—thick skin.

You spend another week on air, fingers itching for Watcher’s next call.

It’s humiliating, the anticipation. It buzzes under your skin and along your nerves as if a circuit somewhere inside you is just waiting to trip. It keeps you on the edge of your seat as you pretend to focus on the queue, gaze darting to and from the phone. The few seconds between tracks seem longer than usual, each pause stretching thin with expectation. 

When the tiny green bulb finally lights up, you answer before it even rings, barely bothering with the script. She doesn’t interrupt, but she seems frantic.

“Don’t disconnect. Transfer me to the internal line. It’s urgent.”

Rolling your eyes, you mutter an agreement. You dump the seconds to preserve the show and move songs around to prolong your window of time. This is your chance to confront whoever the hell Watcher is. Thick skin.

“Are you there?”

“Yes.” She sounds relieved. “I appreci–”

“Don’t care. Listen, Watcher.” You hiss. “I clearly cannot stop you from spoofing your number or calling into the station, but I will report you if you keep saying weird shit to me. The sheriff will trace wherever you’re calling from, nail a restraining order to your ass, and they have enough problems right now.”

Silence hangs so thick on the line you could reach out and touch it. You imagine her on the other end, maybe drumming her fingers, listening, waiting for you to give something away. The longer you sit, the angrier you grow.

“Still there? What’s so goddamn urgent, huh?” Your molars grind together.

She hangs up.

A month passes. Four weeks of silence. Not long enough to lull you into letting your guard down, but enough that you jump when the internal line rings.

Fuck. You should’ve called the sheriff and told them about her, about your suspicions, as far-fetched as they feel. Chewing your thumb, you stare as she calls once, twice—three times—before she leaves a voicemail. It plays above the lowered volume of the music.

“I know you’re there.”

Reflexively, you glance at the window. It’s a void beyond the glass. You know she means the show.

“And I’m still here…Look, I’m calling to apologize. I know I pushed my luck. I’ve been trying to apologize for weeks, but you keep hanging up. So if you’ll—” 

You snatch the phone off the hook and hiss into it. “Yeah? And who’s fault is that?”

It takes a moment for her to respond, apparently taken off-guard.

“Mine, I know.” She says quietly. “And I am sorry. Really. I wish I could explain it. That first night I heard you? You charmed me immediately. That’s no excuse, I know, but…” 

There’s a whooshing on her end and tires rumbling on the road. Your ears perk further at the faint sound of music—Leather and Lace. She’s still listening to the show. A slight tremor runs through you.

“Are you driving truck? Is that why you’re calling? Because you’re bored?”

She hums. It tickles your ear. “Mm, no, but I’m on the road a lot, and I was bored until I heard you. I was just playing with the dial looking for background noise.”

“Not enough to act like a creep, so you have to call me ‘background noise’?”

Watcher laughs, and the metallic click of a lighter punctuates the sound. “Well, that’s what I used it for at first. Now it’s more of my soundtrack while I work and eat. I find the music pleasing of course, but I didn’t fully understand the phrase ‘voice for radio’ until I heard you. Ah, can you hold for a moment? I hope I’m not, hm, causing more problems like this. I’d hate to upset you even more.”

Maybe it’s because it’s the longest you’ve let her speak, but you find yourself admiring her voice. It’s clear, steady, and strangely insistent. It washes over you like a gentle tide, smoothing out your tension, each word suffusing you with a tranquility. They unwind something tight in your chest, and you’re suddenly nodding along as if she’s defanged your frustration. Uprooted each of its teeth one by one.

“It’s…fine.”

She mutes the call, and you snap out of it enough to double-check the line-up for the next break in music. When the line opens again, you hear footsteps on gravel.

“I hear you breathing. You’re still there.” The stranger laughs a little. Disbelief evident in her tone. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

Hm. Why were you even mad in the first place?

The words tumble out in a dream-like state. “Yeah, I forgive you.”

“Good. I tend to be forward,” Her earnestness makes you grin. Traitor, something distant echoes from the recesses of your mind. “But I won’t pester you over the airwaves anymore. Do me a favor, won’t you?”

You hum. “Okay.”

“I want you to pack the queue for the next several hours, and then I want you to hang up. After that…Who is…? Oh he’s–Shit–”

The line abruptly cuts out, then click. Dial tone. You blink, surprised by how quickly the connection evaporates, the warmth of a conversation snatched away, leaving you almost reeling. The phone finds its cradle, but the disorienting rush that follows makes you feel both acutely aware and utterly detached. A few minutes pass in a haze.

Then, the door to the station opens. The missing notices taped to the booth flutter in the night’s breeze, and Ron appears. His hands lift in an enthusiastic greeting, though you can’t make out what he says. The dense paneling muffles his rambling as he slams the door behind him and engages the bolts.

As he trudges through the office, things sharpen. Clarify.

He is screaming. 

He is limping.

Blood pours from a deep gash in his thigh and a gaping wound on his shoulder.

Your chair clatters to the ground behind you as you scramble to your feet. The headphones wrench off of your head as the cord yanks them back. Reality frays at the seams right in front of you as he stumbles closer, struggling with how much blood trails behind him. You struggle to think, rooted to the spot in horror, with your heart thundering in your ears.

Ron shrieks and points. 

The phone.

Call for help.

You nearly fumble twice, tucking it into your shoulder to throw open desk drawers for bandaids or duct tape—but the line’s dead. You hear nothing but one track fade into the next and the booth’s door rattling open.

“You’ve got–got to help me,” He slurs, slumping against the door, gradually lowering to the ground. “It’s–It’s out–” He gurgles then retches, reaching for you with a trembling hand. Blood drips from his mouth, staining his lips and chin. 

The sound of wood splintering stops him short, reverberating through the office like a gunshot. 

Your eyes latch onto the station’s entrance, bulging at the warp of the wood and a fist-sized crater. The newer deadbolt is knocked clean off, the hinges bent and barely hanging on. Through the fissures, you see movement, and—something slams into it again, this time shattering the door into pieces. You flinch as jagged hunks of wood fly through the air, ricocheting off furniture and the walls. A few smash into the booth. Cracks spiderweb across the glass surface, fracturing across the width of the panel, but not enough to break.

“On air, g-get on air,” Ron wheezes, clutching his chest.

Nodding, you grab the headset and shove it to your ear, but before you can reach for the microphone, a figure appears in the doorway.

A woman. Watcher.

“Don’t do that, sweetheart,” She croons, mouth unmoving, her voice crackling through the driver regardless. It slips closer, an intimate murmur, even when the headset slips through your hands. Although she’s across the room, you almost sense her behind you, and each word susurrates into the shell of your ear. Meant for just you. “Not when I’ve finally found you. Won’t you come closer?”

You can’t move. Between the dying man at your feet and the esurient look on her face, you’re torn. Your limbs shake, wanting to go to her, but the death rattles of your boss and self-preservation beg you to stay.

“I can hear your heartbeat. Didn’t think I’d get your sweet blood pumping so fast, but I swear I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but that’s life.” Her head tilts with a shrug. “Now. Come here, sweetheart.”

Ron’s gasping turns wetter. 

You step over him.

“Remember what I told you, the first time I called?”

Swallowing, you weave through bits of smashed door and furniture. “‘I bet you have a pretty face…’”

“‘…to match that voice’, that’s right.” She finishes and smiles. This time, her mouth moves when she speaks. “I knew I was right. Felt it in my bones. You are a lovely creature, aren’t you? Give us a turn.”

It feels as though you’re moving through water, your limbs sluggish and far too relaxed for the amount of blood soaking into the carpet beneath your feet. The notion that something is wrong dances at the edge of your awareness. Easily ignored as you comply, twirling directly into her reach in front of the ruined doorway.

Through half-lidded eyes, you stare into your Watcher’s face.

Severe yet gentle. Penitent yet pitiless. Her mouth tugs upward, faintly, something in the taut line of her jaw, and a flicker in her gaze, a brief unease, like she’s sifting through her thoughts.

You wish you could comfort her. It seems like she needs it.

“You’re beautiful.” she whispers, gathering you to her chest. Her arms are lean, but there’s no give in her embrace. “Much too beautiful for radio.” She looks past you, where everything’s gone quiet save for the music. “We should go.”

That sounds nice. But.

“Okay, but can I load the queue until my boss comes in? He’ll be upset if I don’t at least do that.”

Watcher smiles and swipes a slick thumb over your cheek. It smells like iron. “Of course.”

The sun sits just beneath the horizon when the coffee maker runs.

Marc finds Ron’s body after hours of radio silence.

Nobody finds you.

[strawberryspence]

Because I am obsessed with the famous trope here’s another one that kept me up all night.

Steve and Eddie dated right after Vecna in ‘86 and it’s perfect. They date each other and it’s like two puzzles clicking together. But they’re young, foolish and they both have mountains of trauma. And sometimes, the passion and love, just isn’t enough to keep a relationship going.

They have a messy break up that has Eddie packing all his stuff up in ‘88. Eddie goes to LA or New York, either way that’s where he gets discovered. He then goes on to write some very angsty and angry rock/metal music about the break-up that gets him up on the map.

Steve hates it. He hates it with every fibre of his soul because it’s one thing when you and you ex still have the same friends and have to be civil with each other, but it’s a whole other thing when you open the radio and this man you dated, this man you loved and cared for and failed is just out here singing it for the whole world to hear.

And yeah listen, it’s petty and dumb. But Steve writes his own fucking songs, it’s not the direct response to Eddie’s song but it’s close. By that time it’s already ‘90 and Eddie’s made a whole name and career out of their relationship. Steve writes the songs, he sings, and he sends the damn demo to almost fifty different companies. And he gets picked up by one company.

Steve takes the pop star route, and with his looks and his somehow amazing vocals, by ‘94 Steve’s on the charts with Whitney and Mariah. The whole Party has solemnly promised to not get involved with their petty songwriting fighting anymore. They also haven’t spoken in person in almost six years, and the only way they communicate now is through the freaking songs.

There’s not a lot of overlap with the rock and pop community, and no one notices it until ‘05. It’s one fan that makes this one blog post talking about this weird freaky coincidence in Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson’s songs. It becomes a whole thing, like someone from Hawkins pulls out the yearbooks and finds out that they could’ve known each other. Their faces are splashed together into every magazine and celebrity entertainment shows.

They don’t say anything about it. No one comments about it for a few years and it infuriates the public even more. The next time Steve comes out with a song, Eddie comes out with another song a few months after and it’s once again a literal conversation about their relationship.

The whole thing continues until ‘11 and by then there’s blog dedicated for all the clues. It’s now a long running thread, and it gets updated when there’s another clue to this massive confusing puzzle. There’s a whole subsection with names of every Party member and how they connect the two artists together. There’s freaking flow charts and pictures and family trees.

It only ends when Eddie finally posts two pictures on Twitter. The first one is taken backstage. All you can see is Steve’s back, but you will know it’s him because of his hair. He’s standing at the side of the stage, and on the stage is Eddie Munson singing. The second one is a picture of Eddie sitting in a couch as Steve looms over him, hands crossed on his chest. Eddie’s signing his own album with a smirk, while Steve glares at him. If you zoom, you can see the sign on the album saying, “To Steve. This album is for you.”

The caption says: “Me and my biggest fan. Circa 2004.”

Steve replies to the original post saying: “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Eddie deletes the post and reposts it with: “Me and my wonderful, gorgeous, talented husband. I can’t believe I am married to THE Steve Harrington.”

It’s the first time the term “break the internet” is ever used.

Turns out, they were just writing the songs to spite each other and to add fuel to the fandom fire. (In an interview, Eddie says, “It’s our foreplay.” and Steve doesn’t talk to him for a solid 30 minutes for running his mouth. It only lasts for 30 minutes because Eddie made it up to him by using his mouth for something else.)

[queenariesofnarnia]

whiskey and jazz

gif not mine!

alastor x f!reader

warning: i wrote this at like 3am when i couldn't sleep and i feel like its ass

wc: 771

Your laughter fills the room as you sit at the bar telling stories from your days on earth. Even managing to make Husk chuckle at your antics. It was nice to have a peaceful night after you had to make Charlie take a break. Sending her and Vaggie on a nice date. Sir Pentious began to tell a story from his time on earth. You loved moments like this, Angel being able to not worry about working for his twat of a boss and even Niffty with everyone enjoying a little break. However, you worried Alastor could be lonely so you were going to take some fun to him. 

“Husk, give me a whiskey and two glasses” you say while hopping off your chair. 

“Where you going kid?” he asks handing you what you asked for. 

“To see if Alastor is up for some company. He deserves a break too.” you smile before wishing everyone to continue to have fun. 

“We’ll be here if he says no toots! Good luck” Angel’s comment reaches your ears before you head to Alastor’s tower. The “on-air” sign is off but there’s soft jazz playing indicating he’s inside. Knocking softly on the door you stand there silently hoping he opens it. When he does he looks down at you. His smile not leaving his face.  

“What can I do for you sweetheart?” he asked stepping aside directing you to enter. 

“I wanted to see if you’re up for company. I brought whiskey” you grin at him holding up the bottle. Making your way to the loveseat, sitting the bottle and glasses down on the table. 

“I will always accept your company sweetheart. Take a seat” closing the door. He makes his way to sit next to you on the loveseat. He pours you both a glass. Enjoying each other’s company as you nursed your drink. 

“Could you tell me a little something about when you were alive?” your question catching Alastor off guard. You cared about knowing what he did when he was alive?

“Why of course my dear. I enjoyed cooking with my mother, especially jambalaya.” he told you as he remembers those times. There’s a softness in your eyes as you look at him while he talks. 

“That’s lovely Alastor. Truly” your smile was what he needed. He was frustrated while planning his broadcast and your company came at the perfect time. He told you more about his life until a tune by Louis Armstrong and his Hot Five played through the radio filling the room. He finished his glass before standing up holding his hand out toward you. 

“Care for a dance sweetheart?” you threw your drink back before taking his hand. He pulled you up towards him directing you on how to dance. One song turned into two, and two eventually turned into five. The smile on your face as he twirled you around the room made him not want to stop dancing with you. When the two of you finally sat back down another glass was poured and handed your way. 

“I talked about myself sweetheart. It is only fair you tell me about yourself” He says leaning back, spreading his legs slightly. You begin thinking of something good to tell him. 

“I’m sure you’ve noticed but I cook or bake whenever I feel overwhelmed. I’ve been doing it since I was old enough to be in the kitchen by myself.” he nods, wanting you to continue. 

You told him some of your fond memories. Neither of you noticing how late it has gotten. Just sharing stories with one another, to his surprise you asked him about his serial killer days. There was a sparkle in your eyes when you listened to every word he said. He noticed it whenever the two of you spoke. He could also see how tired you were. 

“It looks like sleep is calling your name cher” his tone soft, well soft for him. 

“I’ll be fine. I want to hear more of your stories Al” you tell him covering your mouth to yawn. 

“Find me when you wake up and join me for coffee.” He said standing up bringing you up with him. He brought you close before dissolving into his shadow and ending up in your room. 

“Good night my dear” he placed a kiss on top of your head before guiding you to your bed. As you lay down you reach for his hand giving it a light squeeze. 

“Goodnight Al” you let go of his hand snuggling into your blankets. He left your room with a genuine smile on his face.