#and i feel like those songs have substance than on short n sweet

[ddelicatemp3]

i love short n sweet but there’s just something about emails i can’t send

[kaijime]

lights down low

pt. 2

includes. kuroo tetsurou, bokuto koutarou, tendou satori, sugawara koushi, tsukishima kei, tanaka ryunosuke, oikawa tooru, ushijima wakatoshi, nishinoya yuu.

cw. fem reader, phone sex, masturbation, fingering, toys (vibrator, dildo), slight dom, squirting

a/n. Ok I’m really really sorry about this, I had an ask in my inbox and I think I accidentally deleted it or something, I don’t know what happened. its just not there but I’m gonna answer it anyways.Basically the ask was about making a fic out of this video, go watch it for a little bit of context (it is a little nsfw, you have been warned)

After that disastrous prank from the boys, you were left hot and needy. You gather your things from the couch, where previously there was a calm ambient of doing homework, now it was just an uncomfortable place because you were sweating buckets. On the way to your bed you left your notebooks and pencils on the desk and lay down on the bed. 

Looking back at those pictures, your imagination was left to run. What could those jim shorts be hiding? The thoughts of them around you, making you feel good in all the ways possible, made your mind wander-- and your hand too.

Sneaking a hand into your cute lacy panties, you imagine its someone else’s hand, any other hand but yours. Your finger touches your clit, rubbing small, light circles around it in a teasing motion.

“H-hah- I...” your hand quickly covers your mouth in an attempt to silence yourself. You take off the damp fabric from your heat, lifting your legs to slide it off and throw it into some unknown corner of the room. The room grows hot, as well as your insides, it know has a lust-like vibe. Your body sits straight taking off your shirt and bra, massaging your breast with your left hand while rubbing yourself with the other one.

A few minutes of this made you bored, reaching for the bottom drawer of your bedside table where you hid all the good things. Your breath hitched at the sigh of the familiar toys, the blue dildo and the small bullet vibrator. Taking your previous place on the bed you turn on the small vibrator on the lightest setting and rub it over your nipples, teasing them and leaving breathy moans to slip out of your mouth.

The feeling of the vibrating bullet on your sensitive nub made you go crazy, thinking about how good it would feel to have one of those sexy boys tease them while filling all of your holes. You dragged it through your entire body, from your upper stomach to where you needed it the most.

You were lost in the pleasure, very lost in the pleasure. Still, you could never be lost enough to ignore the ringing of your phone. Your body jumped involuntarily at the scare, scrambling to find the source of the annoying sound that interrupted your session. That’s when you saw it.

Video call from the group chat.

Not just any group chat, the one with all the men you were just fantasizing about. Fuck. There’s no way you couldn’t join, they would think something is wrong with you, when really you’re just trying to get off. You throw on the shirt you had previously discarded.

“Hey hey hey! (Y/n)~ How are you feeling?~” Bokuto’s teasing, sing-song voice welcomed you into the call after you hit the green button on the screen. Even if the group chat was a big one, a few of them weren’t in the call. The ones who usually went to bed early were gone, so that means Kageyama, Akaashi and Asahi were not in the group call. Memories of the prank made you gush, your slick dripping onto your ass and eventually to the sheets, since you didn’t have enough time to throw on some panties, but that’s fine. It’s not like you’re gonna show them anything.

“I’m feeling good y’know, after being harassed with such lewd pictures I’m feeling just peachy!” the sarcastic tone really evident in your voice. A few of them laughed, some remained silent. You didn’t care, you  just wanted the call to be over so you could resume your previous actions. Then Kuroo spoke.

“Yeah here’s the thing (Y/n), if you weren’t reading the chat” which of course you were not, you were too busy trying to relieve the heat these boys had caused you. “We were actually gonna ask you if you could maybe send us something like that?”

“Wh-what?”

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, but if you did we would never send those pictures to anyone else” The thought of them, wanting to see you in a picture as provocative as theirs made you blush. Your face turned red at the thought, it all felt too good to be true...like a prank.

“Alright... very funny, yeah right” but the boys could not understand what you were saying, they genuinely meant what they said, so they were taken aback that you wouldn’t believe them. Then Tsukishima chipped in on the awkward silence.

“Does it look like were ki-”

“What’s that?” you heard Tendou question. That’s when you looked to your right and saw the dildo, in all its glory, completely visible to the camera. All this time you’ve been talking while all the boys could see the toy you used- or were planning on using.

You quickly cover it with your sheets and cover your own face with your other hand to hide your growing blush and the tears on the corner of your eyes, for one more embarrassing moment with these boys and you would snap.

“How lewd (Y/n)” Nishinoya spoke, his teasing tone not helping you at all.

“Hey come on guys, stop it” said Sugawara. And then there was an awkward silence once more, honestly, it would’ve been better to be endlessly teased than to be in the thoughts of everyone. You could tell they were all silently judging you by the way they stared at the camera. That’s when you broke down, not full on sobbing, just a few tears that trickled down your cheeks.

“Whoa, hey-- sweetie, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing its jut that I feel so bad, I was about to touch myself thinking about all those pictures you guys sent me a-”

“Wha- wait a second, you were going to touch yourself thinking about our pictures?” Tanaka asked, though you couldn’t tell if he was going to be judgy about it or if he genuinely had curiosity. “As in... put that thing inside yourself thinking about us?”

The nod of your head makes the whole group crazy. Just thinking about you, shoving that toy into your heat with your thoughts fixated on them, that made most of them hard, except for Ushi. He simply cleared his throat and said:

“Can you show us?”

“WHAT?!”

“If you feel uncomfortable doing it then don’t but I think everyone here is hard and we could all use the relief, including you soo...”. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. These men, some of them older than you, even, wanted to see you masturbate.

“Are you sure this isn’t a prank?”

“It’s not a prank (Y/n), we all want to see the same thing so if you feel like doing it, whenever you’re ready would be a good place to start” added Oikawa. You swallowed the saliva that had gathered up on your mouth, by this time, the sheets beneath you were soaked in your essence. Someone looking at this from an outside point of view might have described it as peer pressure, but when you set the camera on the end of your bed and spread your legs to show them how hot and bothered they had made your cute little cunny, well, you didn’t feel pressured at all. In fact it all felt so normal, as if this was something normal friends did.

“Oh my god” “Soo hot” “Spread them wide baby” and other praises could be heard from the phone. All the different voices worshiping you and ordering you around made you feel somewhat safe, like you had lost a bit of your control, but you had given it to the right people.

It should be noted that at this time everyone was hard, including Ushijima. You took off your shirt again and a few cheers from Tanaka and Nishinoya were heard. You then did what you would normally do in a horny night, except of course, with the exception that there was a phone with nine friends in front of you. 

“Touch yourself for daddy”

“Uh-huh, I’ll be a good girl for you daddy” pushing your fingers into your hole. “Your cocks are all so pretty” moaning at the sight of they’re long members on the camera, as they used their hands to relieve the hardness.

“You’re being so good for us sugar, put in another finger” Sugawara’s orders made you clench around your small finger, reminding you that it wouldn’t  be enough to satisfy you. A loud moan slips past your lips as you enter another finger into your wet heat. “Good girl, now put the vibrator to your clit, darling”

Doing as you’re told you moan at the sight of all of them jerking off to your sweating figure. Tanaka and Kuroo were in the same position as you were, sitting on your bed with their legs spread to get better access to their cocks, Ushijima, Bokuto and Tsukishima appeared to have their cameras right in front of their dicks, just so that you could get a good close look on how their hands were working on themselves. The rest of them were in different positions that you couldn’t make out because you drifted your gaze to the ceiling, searching for something to help you, to save you from the immense pleasure you were having. 

The little bullet making you shiver in ecstasy. The way your fingers couldn’t reach that special spot inside yourself made you feel sexually frustrated, but you kept fingering yourself, for the sake of all the hot men who were panting and moaning like crazy in front of you. Even if you couldn’t do exactly what you wanted to, you were feeling very good, and you were so close to your orgasm.

“Pull out your fingers and put in the toy” Nishinoya ordered. For a small boy he had some big balls, (metaphorically)

“But daddy! I-I’m sooo close...daddyyyyy”  And you came, your sweet juices seeping out of you as you rubbed yourself with your fingers to gather a bit of your slick. You take that same hand to your mouth, licking all the creamy substance off.

“Ugh, baby” and they moaned out lots of different nicknames, all of them making you clench around the emptiness in your hole. You grab the dildo once again from under the sheets and tease yourself with the tip at your entrance looking into the camera to give the group a good show. Keeping your eyes fixated on the camera you shove the toy into your abused hole. When you feel it reach your pelvis. 

“Daddy, y-...y-you’re so deep inside me-... h-hah” the pace you set is slow, as you realize, too slow, even for you. “Its so big d-daddy!”

“Shut up and take it like a good slut” Tsukishima exclaims, which makes you go harder and deeper into your cunt. You lift your head from where it was buried in the pillows and look at your pussy, the way its taking the big toy makes you clench around it, making it harder to pull it out and push it inside.

“(Y/n)- p-please keep going, I-I’m gonna cum” 

“I-I’m not-... I can’t-t stop” you say pushing the toy further inside and hitting your g-spot. The volume of your moans increases with each hit to that special spot inside you. “I’m go-...a-ah-ah! Daddy I’m cumming” 

“Cum, make a mess l-like the good girl you are d-darling” Suga said in between all his moans. Your insides threw out the blue toy and started spraying your clear essence. You take a hand to your clit to make it last longer. Gushing all over the place, on the bed sheets and even on the phone, which of course only brought the men closer to their climaxes as well. By the time you were finished and taking in what just happened, all of them had released and were just panting in the afterglow of their orgasms.

“Wow” “That was so hot” and other commentaries where made by them.

“We should do this more often”

©️ kaijime 2021 | all content belongs to kaijime, do not modify or repost

[theveryinsignificantpotato]

hello!! may a request an alastor x reader where the reader is charlie’s older sister?!

I am sorry this took a weirdly long time, I had to rewrite it literally four separate times before I had a semi-solid idea for a plot, and this is where it got me

I do sincerely hope you like it!

The Magne Match Maker

She was lucifer's oldest and most powerful daughter, holding a reputation for being a high energy leader who didn't take any shit, and often stirred fear in the hearts of those around her. Everyone in hell knew who she was, Alastor alone had read about her in papers, seen her in paintings and portraits with her family, and even caught a glimpse of her on the picture show once or twice in passing. He found himself knowing of both her and her reputation when they met, so the shock wasn't from her personality or anything of substance - he just hadn't anticipated how much prettier she was in person.

Despite her initial skepticism with his relations to her sister's dreams, she never shunned him, but rather allowed him closer in an attempt to grasp any hidden intentions he had. She allowed him to talk and dance and joke with her like he did with everyone else that allowed him to, and he found that she herself was brilliantly funny, charismatic, and quite the dancing partner, she was bold and fun and all around gorgeous - and Alastor would never admit just how quickly she had him wrapped around her little finger.

Charlie watched it all go down too, from the moment her sister arrived at the hotel she had a premonition about those two, and as the weeks passed their chemistry became more and more undeniable. Her sister, who was usually stubborn and quick witted, seemed to turn to putty in Alastor's hands every time he swept her into a dance, she'd blush and lean into his grip, and has a smile that just wouldn't leave regardless of how much she tried to force any other expression into its place. Alastor himself even seemed hesitant any time he had to remove the demon from his gaze and found that his face flushes against his will any time she'd laugh at his jokes.

This went on for months, both parties infatuated with the other while doing nothing to officialize any sort of relationship.

Charlie had to do something

While y/n had accepted the idea, Alastor was thrilled at the principal of a ball! So many bodies crammed in one room in the midst of an event would surely result in some delicious chaos, and even if there wasn't any, perhaps he could treat himself to a dance with the queen-to-be! 

Said demon herself was more excited at the ability to use the event as an excuse to go dress shopping with her little sister (dad had her off on business so often it seemed she never got to see Charlie anymore) it had been a long time since she'd been to a formal event and who better to consult than her! The Magne sisters would surely rule the event with their outfits.

Boy did they, Alastor was stunned when he saw y/n, who entered with Vaggie and Charlie, the three of them were talking and at one point when y/n threw her head back in laughter his long-dead heart seemed to leap back to life. He had never meant to stare, of course, she just completely caught him off guard with her striking appearance. Both Magne sisters wore dresses in the same style with skirts that met the floor with a gold trim, charlie's was primarily black and pink - like her typical outfit, and her sister was wrapped up in her own favorite colors, golden fabric trimming both dresses. He himself was quite dressed up, an old fashioned suit adorning his thin frame (red suited him best, he thought), his bowtie was replaced with a hand-tied bow, and a silken vest showed slightly beneath his coat. Her eyes finally met his after a few moments, and he reveled in the way her cheeks instantly flushed upon seeing him. It wasn't long then, before he approached her for a dance, earning an excited squee from Charlie. 

"You are gorgeous as always Ms. Magne, I would be eternally grateful if you'd grant me a dance." He asked sweetly, taking her hand and bowing to press a kiss to her knuckles

Her face flushes even more and she looks to Charlie who nearly shoves her sister into his arms in reply. He is barely fazed, only moving to ensure she was steady before returning to his previous position, "I'd be honored to" she says finally, her words barely leaving her mouth in a breath.

His smile widens and he immediately begins guiding her to the floor where many couples were already moving to a jovial rhythm, proudly showing her off to those who saw, as if staking claim to her right then and there. As usual, she was a wonderful dancer, and he adored every second he had with her in his arms, twirling and spinning her in time with their fellow dancers, even she seemed to be having a blast. He was so caught up in the moment that he barely noticed when the music slowed to the next song and she ended up curled up into his arms with her head to his chest. His left hand gripped her right one gently, and his other hand was held softly to her waist as he led her between the other dancers.

"You have a heartbeat." She observes in a soft voice

“That I do." He hums in a jovial tone, sending a delightful chill down her spine

"My father and mother don't, I have just never heard one before…" she says softly, and her face flushes slightly once again, "I don't know why I brought that up, I was just thinking and I guess I started talking."

He shook his head “Nonsense, I’d love to know whats going on in that pretty little head of yours,” He hummed continuing their soft sway across the floor, “Many people find the sound of a heartbeat to be relaxing, while I have met others who rejected the idea of a demon with a pulse, I’m curious of what your opinion is.” He continued the topic, hoping to keep her talking

“I like it.” she says contently, “I think I could always listen to it.”

Now it was his turn to feel blood rush to his cheeks, and he was silently thankful that she couldn't see his darkened flesh from her angle against his chest

"It's funny how much I disliked you when we first met," she continued, "I'll admit, Charlie is the only reason I let you stick around at all - and it seems that it's because of her that I'm here with you now." 

He hummed, "She is quite persistent regarding you and I, isn't she?" He muses, his eyes shining with amusement when she finally picked her head up to see him 

"Quite," she says, mirth decorating her features, Charlie was naturally very excitable, but her biggest downfall was her inability to be discreet - she didn't know just how much her proclaimed OTP knew of her set up, and the two of them got quite the kick out of watching it all unfold. "You don't have to listen to her ramblings, mister, I don't wanna hear you complain!" She said with a laugh

"Who said I was complaining? Your sister is quite entertaining, her little matchmaker game is one of the highlights of my days at the hotel!" He replies, "And you, Ma petite chou, play quite the role in that, too. Your smile shines brighter than the sun ever dreamed!" 

She makes a face, unable to hide her light blush at his compliments, "I've never seen the sun, Al- and did you just call me a little cabbage?" 

He laughs, "It's a term of endearment, chér, the french use it to relate the subject to something small, round, and cute, which you my darling, are." He flirts, that familiar sparkle of amusement manifesting in his eyes once more, "and why have the sun when you exist in this world?" 

She rolls her eyes, her cheeks still burning slightly, "Why do you say such things to me? Charlie cannot hear, so there is hardly any cause for you to continue this game."

He seemed confused for a moment, "game? Oh darling, you wound me with your accusation. I may be a demon, but I am a man of my word, and though I admit I have a flair for the dramatic, none of my actions toward you have been anything short of genuine." He confesses, and the look on her face was one of complete shock.

Then in the most amazing twist, an excited smile graced her features

"So you're saying that Charlie is absolutely correct about us and after all of it, you really do like me, and I am the most oblivious being on this plane just like she said." 

He blinked, "now I'm not-"

She rolled her eyes again, shaking her head, "shut up and kiss me, you silly cabbage." 

He laughed then, humming "as you wish, mon drôle de petit chou" before spinning her about and pressing a sweet kiss to her lips

Before she could even process the situation she was in, she heard her sister squeal in delight at the sight of her parallel to the floor in the radio demon's arms, and she couldn't help the excited smile into Alastor's own at the sound.

[spinster-sisters]

Sunflower. LTY

Warnings: Face fucking mostly, a toxic as fuck relationship, swearing

A/N: THIS RELATIONSHIP IS TOXIC AF SO PLEASE DON’T THINK IM SAYING THIS IS OK OR THAT IM ROMANTISIZING THIS

also, guess which song this is based on lol

This is gonna b like a 3 part mini series so stay tuned

THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY OLD BLOG

You don’t know how the fuck you got here, standing outside the looming apartment building. It was going to rain soon, you could tell because not a star was visible in the night sky, covered by clouds. Distant thunder rumbled in the air. You told yourself never again, yet here you were.

It started almost a year ago,

You meet Taeyong in at a frat party. You hadn’t spoken much, both of you too drunk to care. It didn’t take long for you to take him home.

When you woke the next morning, your bed was empty, no note, no text, nothing. At the time you didn’t care, it was just a one night stand right?

Then, not even a week later it happened again, this time you were both completely sober, having spoken for almost an hour before, only this time you didn’t even make it out of the party before you found a closet for a quick fuck. Once again, total static after. After the fourth time, the man ghosted you, you told yourself no more. You had become somewhat invested in this man, each time believing you might have a future, only for him to disappear the next day. So you promised your self that it wouldn’t happen again.

It was only 2 weeks before the man had once again lured you into his bed. You didn’t mean to fall in love, you didn’t. You tried fucking around, just as he did. You tried blind dates and parties, and even binge drinking to try and keep your mind away from Taeyong. Yet every time, you would scramble to meet him, anytime, any place he desired. You were at his beck and call.

It got to the point were others knew not to even bother, you were Taeyong’s. No matter how much you flirted, how hot you looked, how desperate they were, no one dared to touch what Taeyong had successfully claimed. Even if he didn’t seem to need you.

He continued to sleep around as he pleased, going days without even texting you, then calling you at 2 am to come for a quick fuck. And every time you came running.

It was clear to everyone that to you, he was everything. But to him, you were nothing.

This reality hit you especially hard 3 weeks ago. He had been out with a girl, but she got to piss drunk before he could get his dick wet. And instead of jerking off he called you. You were there in 12 minutes. Though your time was cut short when he got a phone call, it was the girl from earlier, sobered up and ready for a good time.

He left before you had even got your clothes on.

That hit you hard. For 3 weeks you ignored his calls, for 3 weeks you avoided him at parties, for 3 weeks you were strong.  

Yet here you were, standing outside his apartment. The rain had just begun to fall. You were broken, you missed him, you wanted to see him, talk to him, feel him. He was like a drug or a god, in your eyes. You craved his attention, reveling in the few moments you had it. Those moments gave you a better high than any recreational substance ever could.

Which is why you are here, you are an addict going through withdrawals. And you needed your fix.

You walked up to the steps to the heavy metal door, and pressed the button next to his name, buzzing up to his apartment. You stood silent for a moment, wondering if he was even going to answer, it was nearly midnight.

“Hello?” Taeyong’s voice sounded over the intercom. Your heart cried out at the sound. It was pathetic really. You breath soon stopped though, you had no clue what to say. There was always a chance he would simply turn you away. You finally reached out a shaky finger, pressing down the button once again. A low buzzing sound told you he could hear you.

You were still at a loss for words. So you only squeaked out,

“Tae?”

Before releasing the button.

This seemed to be enough though, because soon a high pitch buzz rang out, signaling that the door was open. You heaved open the heavy metal door, before walking up the many flights of stairs to reach his apartment.

You stood outside his door for a minute, contemplating leaving. You had barely had the time to consider it before the door swung open.

And there he stood, in all his glory. A loss barely their white t hung off his slim frame, grey sweat pants loosely tied around his waist. The sight of him was enough to make your mouth run dry, you were practically gasping for water. You quickly swallowed in an attempt to fix the sensation, your heart racing for him.

He lifted the corner of his mouth into a slight smirk.

“Almost though you forgot which one it was,” He spoke, his voice deep and smooth enough to bring you to your knees. But in truth, he was almost mocking you with that statement. He knew as well as you did there was no way you could forget the way to him. You suppose that’s the reason your friends begged you to let him go, to ditch him completely. Because he knew how crazy you were for him, he knew you would come when he called, he knew the hold he had over you.

He chuckled at your slight pout, reaching out and grabbing your wrist, pulling you into his chest. You fell graciously into his arms, closing your eyes as his arms wrapped around your waist. You breathed in his sent, feeling your mind cloud over at the strong musk. Though your face was in his neck you sensed him moving close your ear, moving your hair out of the way with his nose.

“Miss me?” he whispered into the shell of your ear. You almost cried out to him, yes, yes you did miss him. But instead, you simply wrapped your arms around him and nodded into his shoulder. You finally saw his smirk when he pulled you back, admiring you at arm’s length. He looked up and down your body.  You blushed madly under his gaze.

Taeyong finally leads you inside, closing the door with a thud behind you, only to lean against the dining table, arms folded across his chest, now grinning wildly.

“What made you decide to come back to me, baby?” He asked, thought the sweetness in his voice didn’t reach his eyes, which showed how amused he was by your sudden appearance.

Something had happened, though you were reluctant to share. But it didn’t take much more of his intense gaze to have your resolve cracking.

“umm,” You began, not sure how much you wanted to share. “There was this guy” You eyed him, waiting for his reaction. He didn’t have one. “ Well, we were hanging out, and one thing leads to another,” You continued in a shaky voice, “ I hadn’t told him my name,” You explained, seeing how that was the only way any guy would be willing to risk sleeping with Taeyong’s girl. “But Tae it was-”

“Bad?” He filled in the blank. Still clearly finding the whole thing very amusing.

You swallowed again and nodded. At this, he audibly laughed.

“Well, what did you expect Y/N?” He chuckled out, pushing off the tabled and stalking towards you. “And I’m guessing you finally realized that no other guy can please you the way I do?” He asked mocking you slightly. You nodded again, shamefully.

“Did you finally realize how much you need me?” He asked, this time looking expectantly at you, waiting for an answer. You finally looked up to meet his dark swirling eyes. You had fallen in love with those eyes. You nodded, practically lunging froward to once again attach your self to him.

He chuckled at you once again, hand stroking down the length of your body, from the back of your neck to the swell of your ass.

“Show me how much you need me,” He orders in a soft voice leading you over to the couch. He was so fucking beautiful, your mind was clouded, practically drunk off his attention. You wanted to please him. Make him see how much you wanted him.

You knelt on the couch beside him, taking his hand into yours and raising his wrist to your lips. You trial your lips down the length of his arm savoring the way his soft skin felt against your lips.

Although you found him to be perfect in every way, Taeyong was not with his blemishes, one of these was how possessive he could be over you. While you often deluded yourself into thinking it was out of love, the truth was that Taeyong was greedy, and to put it simply, didn’t like to share toys.

So you continued to shower his body in affection. You moved yourself to straddle his lap, lips now reaching up to his shoulder, you hands skimmed underneath his shirt, tugging lightly, asking him to remove it. He obliged you, pulling the fabric over his head, his hands then resting on your hips, rubbing soft circles into your jeans.

Your lust had you practically drooling over the man in front of you. Just as you were about to dive back into to worshipping his golden skin, he reached up onto the hair at the base of your neck, taking a fist full into his hand by the roots, keeping your head immobile. He tugged at your hair, causing your head to fall back slightly, exposing your neck to the man. In your vulnerable state Taeyong tutted at you.

“So, this man,” He started, your blood ran cold “What was his name?”

Though the question was innocent, it held a deeper meaning.

“umm,?” You wondered aloud. Your mind was so swirled with thoughts of Taeyong, you honestly had a hard time recalling. His hand tapped your hip, telling to hurry up. Though just as he did so he also pulled out tighter onto his lap, bulge pressing into your core deliciously. You got lost in the feeling, starting to swirl and grind your hips absent mindedly

“Uhhh, I think it was-” You trailed off quietly, one good tug on your hair, reminding you of the question, “Umm- it was- I think I was Doyoung?” You wonder aloud. In reward for answering Taeyong began to grind up into you, matching your pace. The seam of your jeans was rubbing directly onto your clit, his hips swirling the bud onto the rough fabric. The outline of his cock was pressing perfectly on your slit, practically sliding between your folds through the fabric. You were already in pure bliss, happily chasing your high.

“Hmm,” He spoke aloud, almost casually as if he wasn’t one particularly strong thrust away from making you cum in your pants, which were already damp from your wetness.

“ You should know better than anyone, baby, how angry that makes me.” He adds, bringing a hand down to add pressure directly onto your clit, you cried out, picking up your pace.

“I think you need a reminder that your mine,” He comments. You were hanging off his every word, seconds away from release your stomach clenched in anticipation. You swirled your hips, once, twice, a third time. You were about to cum, hard, a fourth.

Taeyong quickly released your hair and took you by the hips, lifting you off of him. You nearly toppled over back onto him in shock. You stared at him, mouth agape and wide-eyed, a loud whimper ripping through your body. You were crying out for a release.

He laughed at you once again

“But first you need to thank me for letting you come up here after that stunt. Not listening to me for weeks? Ignoring me? You’ve been bad, baby” He practically spat at you as you collapsed onto the floor at his feet.

“Get over here and apologize.” He demanded, spreading his legs enough for you to sit comfortably between them. If you had thought for a moment you might have noticed the hypocrisy in his words, but you didn’t. Instead, you eagerly crawled into place. Mouth already hanging open, like an eager pet waiting to be fed.

Taeyong sat up straight, hand once again finding purchase in your hair while the other took his now fully erect dick out of his sweat pants. Your cunt throbbed in anticipation, mouth-watering at the sight. You straighten your back, leaning as far forward as the hand in your hair would allow.

“So eager, baby” He chuckled, before guiding your head onto his length. You happily let your jaw go slack as he guided your head up and down his cock. You loved him so much it hurt, so to you, his pleasure was worth the dull pain in the back of your throat. Though clearly, this was not enough, as soon he started thrusting into your mouth harshly. Tears began to stream down your cheeks as his throbbing dick moved down your throat. You choked and gagged frequently, trying your hardest to breathe through your nose.

“Hmm, such a good pretty baby,” He remarked, watching the drool that escaped your mouth drip down your chin. You looked up at him with big round eyes, causing him to groan. As his thrusts become more sporadic. He threw his head back, halting his movements. Soon, thick ropes of cum came pours down your throat. It was sticky and warm, already sliding down your throat. You had no choice but to swallow it, not that you minded.

You finally were released, pulling yourself off his dick. You were panting, throat feeling sore.

His hooded eyes watched you amusement still in his eyes.

“Oh, baby, you’ve always been so good for me,” He praised. “You’re never going to ignore me again are you?” He asked, as though talking to a child. You nodded in affirmation, completely, madly in love with the man before you.

Both of his hands reach out and cupped your face.

“Mine,” he said, more to himself than to you, as your eyes shown with adoration, practically sparkling with devotion.

I love you, I love you, I love you. You brain chanted over and over and over again. Staring longingly at his perfect face. It was as if a red glow surrounded him, everything aside from his figure was a blur, all you could see was Taeyong. You rested your cheek on his knee, eyes not leaving him.

Just as he was about to open his mouth a sudden ringing erupted from his phone. His eyes left your face. Hands leaving your head, and you felt a crash.

He reached forward without missing a beat, answering the phone on the second ring. Your head stopped spinning

“Hello” He spoke, voice clear and unbothered. The person on the other end talked for a moment before Taeyong responded,

“Of course,”

You came down from your high,

Without another word, he hung up the phone, stood abruptly, fixed his appearance, and walked out the front door.

Leaving you in a pile on his floor.

You were back where you started.

[braindeacl]

Buzzkill | Eilidh & Vic

SETTING: Vic’s residence. TIMING: A few weeks ago. PARTIES: @natusvincere & @braindeacl SUMMARY: Vic has the angry-online-lady come over to help with her bee problem. But finds she knows the person knocking.  WARNINGS: N/A

Getting rid of a phallic-shaped bee nest and it’s accompanying vibrating man in a place like White Crest really should have been simpler than this, but Vic was already annoyed.  It could have been a simple exchange between her and the woman from the internet, until she tried to scold her with talks about bees and their moral superiority over the rest of the world, or something like that.  As the inevitable knock on the door came that evening, Vic hoped that their exchange would be quick.  Give her the nest and a nice glare for good measure, and hope to never hear from her or the bees again.  She pulled open her front door, but who she met on the other side was certainly not who she was expecting.  “Eilidh?”, she asked, bewildered.  An old, regretful hook up- and possibly the most annoying person on the planet. “Why are you here?”  She didn’t try to hide her disdain.

It should’ve been a simple exchange. Now it felt more like a rescue. That woman… the woman on the internet had no regard or respect for nature. Thankfully Eilidh had noticed the post and decided to extend a helpful hand, though with how the interaction spiraled, it extended to the bees and the bees alone. Plus she finally would be seeing the hive in person! She only had a faint idea with what she was dealing with—the shape indicating a specific and rare type of bee, despite her initial thoughts of mere coincidence. Coincidence wasn’t entirely off the table, but she eagerly ran straight for the tantalizing conclusion. She gave one loud knock against the door, a big bang on the wooden structure. Door opened, and she planned to keep it short, but definitely not sweet. Until... Until her name was spoken. Her chosen name. The one she rarely gave out. The pits within her boiled over, threatening to erupt from her. Throat prepared to growl, teeth prepared to snap. But then she looked harder. Recognition registered. The prepared growl lept out as a curt laugh. Teeth still considered to snap. “Ah, hell. Vicky! Should’ve known it was you.” A pyrite in the rough. Vic had certainly enchanted her, bundled her up warm. And left her out in the cold when she was done with her. At least the sex had been fun. Perhaps the only truth she knew of the woman. “Wanna give me your phallic hive, huh? This some long-winded way to say you wanna fuck again?” 

Vicky.  It was all Vic could do to not physically shudder at the ridiculous name.  She’d pretended to tolerate it back when she’d gotten to know the other woman, but the ruse had died down pretty quickly when it became obvious that she was not a vampire like Vic had first suspected.  She hadn’t needed her anymore after that, so she ghosted her, effectively.  She was so glad to be rid of the constant need for affection and sickening smell of dirt that she barely felt guilty for hanging her high and dry.  It was business, and Eilidh had no right to feel jaded.  “I should have known this was you”, she said after a while, closing her front door with a force that could only convey anger and annoyance to her companion. She ignored her accusation of wanting more, choosing instead to cross her arms and lean back against the side of her house, waiting for Eilidh to show any semblance of decorum.  Her father would have told her she looked like a child.  She stood up straight almost instantly.  “I can think of about 100 things I’d rather do”, she shot back, walking down her front steps and fully expecting the other woman to follow.  The path to her shed wasn’t long, though it was surrounded by blooming, in season flowers.  Their bright colors never matched Vic’s disposition.  “I was rather concerned about someone who was both enamored with the offensive shape of the hive and also more obsessed with bees than their own self respect that I didn’t know who’d show up today”, she said as she walked.  It was a total lie- most of her time before Eilidh had arrived had been spent on making herself look presentable- would this strange woman be pleased with how she looked?  What a waste of time, now that she knew who’d showed up.  She turned around as she led her, her innate curiosity taking over.  “What are you even planning on doing with the hive, anyway?”  She was not interested in old pleasantries or even apologies.  Whether or not Eilidh understood that was not her problem.

Eilidh had spent so long leaving others, never giving them the chance to do the same to her—because they will, they always will—she had almost forgotten how it felt to be on the receiving end. Almost. That old wound sported a new opening, stinging in the spring air. She had to be quicker next time. She had to be the first to go. Like the injured animal she was, she bared her teeth. It almost looked like a smile. “Would say the same. But never knew you well ‘nough to know.” At least some satisfaction was found at the clear revulsion on Vic’s face. It made the almost-smile more genuine. “Oh, hundred! Finally learned new tricks.” She followed behind Vic at a distance, physical mirroring the emotional. It was weird. Finally being here. Flowers in bloom. Dancing under the moonlight, despite the looming frost. Those gentle petals had once adorned the nape of her neck, intertwined in her hair. But now they ignored her. As cold as the air in her lungs. As the woman before her. At the inquiry, Eilidh’s divided attention snapped back to the leading woman. She too was equally beautiful, shimmering under the stars. But so far away. “Gonna relocate them. Find a place where they can thrive. Deep in the woods.” Far away from others, far away from her. So no one would destroy them. People had a habit of doing that to powerful, mysterious things. Things they didn’t understand. Suddenly, there was a sound from behind. Ever curious, she turned her head, and after a beat she realized it to be muffled barking. A true smile twitched on her lips. “Can I say hello to Winnie? That’s the only bitch I wanna see right now.” Truthfully, she had missed that kindred spirit. But bitterness forced her tongue, and her chances were most likely shattered. 

Eilidh wasn’t wrong.  In their time together, Vic had managed to get a considerable amount of information from her companion, all without revealing much about herself.  “That was intentional”, she said through a forced smile.  She scoffed, forcing herself not to turn back and face the other woman, despite the urge to defend herself.  “You say ‘finally’ like our time together wasn’t enjoyable for you. Did you keep coming back for more because you enjoyed the drive over, then?”  They arrived at the hive almost as soon as Eilidh finished sharing her plans for it and Vic locked eyes with her, unable to bring herself to gaze upon it in the company of someone else.  Bees could be heard vibrating from inside the nest, and a few buzzed around it as well. “Well...as you can see it’s very phallic”, she said, blinking awkwardly.  “I suppose it’s best hidden away in the woods, that way no one has to witness such an atrocity.”  Now if Eilidh would just take the hive and go, she’d never have to think about either of them again.  Of course she wouldn’t be so lucky.  She scoffed at Eilidh’s request, flaring her nostrils in annoyance.  Winnie adored everyone and anyone, and she wasn’t afraid to show it, either.  Of course Eilidh would want to see her.  After a beat of staring at the other woman, she rolled her eyes dramatically, walking a few paces around the side of the house to open her back door.  It wasn’t even a moment later that Winnie came bounding outside at lightning speed, panting and slobbering excitedly.  She did an energetic lap around the shed before she ran right toward Eilidh, trying to jump up and get a lick at her face in between excited barks.  “Winnifred, nej!”, she scolded, worried that her oaf of a canine would knock the other woman down.  The last thing she needed was a lawsuit on her hands.  Her words seemed to fall on deaf ears, or at least disobedient ones.

“Now, yes.” Eilidh stated plainly. While she could still at least enjoy the view—Was she wearing that dress just for me? Ha!—there was no more substance. At least, that’s what she told herself. But a wondering did linger—who was this woman truly? Did she laugh same as before, fuck same as before? The questioning caused negative emotions to simmer—brought a fog in her mind. But a comment, followed by a screaming thought, brought her back. It's not an atrocity! She wanted to scream, to go on yet another tangent. But they’ve had that whole song and dance before. And she had more than just mere words in her arsenal. A growl took the scream’s place. Feelings effectively summarized by that primal rumble in her throat. “Must be why you’re out here. By yourself.” Before Vic could register what she meant, Eilidh turned to face the hive. It truly was phallic. Much more magnificent than in the pages of that old book. She took a step forward, then another, then one more. Testing her luck. Testing their patience. With one more questioning step—snow giving a satisfying cruuunch—the bees started to stir, awoken from their stupor. Buzzing sounding more like a warning hiss. Her feet came to stop—let her eyes do the work instead. The hive seemed to be fixed on the exterior of the wall, entirely out in the open. There would probably be no need to remove any bits of Vic’s shed in the process of securing the hive. Though, she might—she will—just for the hell of it. The backpack resting on her shoulders slid across her arms, joining the ground with a muffled thud. Searching hands grasped at the needed supplies. But as these items were revealed, basked in moonlight, a familiar jingling entered her ears.

Fingers released, letting the supplies rejoin their brethren for now. Eilidh had more pressing matters to attend to. The swarm gave another eruption of noise as the canine came just a little too close. But it was softer, subdued, perhaps having already grown used to Winnie’s antics. One second, she was lost behind the shed; the other, she was barreling straight for Eilidh. “A bhobain!” Arms opened wide in preparation, and Winnie wiggled herself into that waiting embrace. Then she practically wiggled herself out of it, her excitement unable to be contained by herself or Eilidh’s grasp. All Eilidh could do was laugh—sound like a wind chime in a hurricane. The laughter quickly died, not for lack of amusement, but for Winnie’s tongue encasing her whole mouth. She did not stop these feverish licks and returned the affection with scritches upon the dog’s nape. 

Eilidh’s flare for the dramatics seemed, somehow, even more annoying when Vic wasn’t putting on a front to charm her, and she rolled her eyes at the attempted insult, even if her companion could not see. Her looks were never an insecurity for her, at least not for a few centuries now.  Funny that she seemed to affect the other woman so much that she felt the need to insult her.  Again, she thought about how Eilidh had no reason to feel scorned or hurt.  Even if it was essentially fake, they had had a good run, and Vic had treated her right.  “I’m out here by myself to avoid running into people like you”, she shot back, though in White Crest, someone like Eilidh was the least of her concerns. Despite her annoyance with the woman, though, there was something fascinating about the way she explored the nest with such care.  There was a newfound cautiousness and gentleness there, one Vic wasn��t used to seeing from Eilidh.  Something sparked in her, too, when she watched the interaction between her and Winnie.  “How’s Tulip?”, she asked, against her better judgement. Eilidh’s dog, who was maybe the pure opposite of Winnie in demeanor, always elicited a sort of soft spot from Vic.  “I mean, is she surviving you?”

Good humors returned with each lick placed on her face, all Eilidh did in response to Vic’s retort was a simple laugh. The implied insult fizzled and died upon her ego—though the heat of its death did create some form of pride. Her simple presence—despite how literal the comment—could cause such a brash reaction? Funny! Momentarily distracted by the thought, she hadn’t noticed the shift of weight upon her body, until she was sent tumbling down under Winnie’s excitement. Upper hand secured, Winnie took upon the opportunity with vigor, making sure every inch of Eilidh’s face was marked with her tongue. More of Eilidh’s laughter filled the air in response. White vapors of breath clouded them in fog. Giving them some privacy. It was only broken with the mention of her own canine companion. Hands pressed and pushed into Winnie’s face—squishing those skin rolls into one—until her tongue licked the air in vain. “Thriving, actually. Been doing lots of swimming.” Warm weather drew the dog to water like moth to flame. Warmth that had slipped passed her fingers, same as Vic’s. “Well, had. Before a layer of ice blocked us out. Assholes.”

Winnie laid in wait, now frozen mid-lick in something akin to acceptance. But instead of allowing that tongue to return, Eilidh wiggled out from under her hovering form. As her feet found footing, she finally released that hold upon the dog, who gladly resumed those joyous kisses. Eilidh whispered something in her ear, gave a kiss of her own, then stood. The hive felt her presence once more, buzzing in welcome or threat or both. Those dropped supplies returned to her grasp, out into the crisp air, ready for use. “Time for a neuter.” 

Vic wanted to continue to scowl, but Winnie pushing Eilidh down was quite a sight, and despite herself, a smirk came to play on her lips.  “Winifred!”, she scolded with barely any gusto.  She nodded at the mention of the weather, annoyed that it had taken such a turn, recently.  “Winnie rather enjoys the snow.  She thinks it’s Christmas in July.”  She wondered, briefly, what it might be like for the dogs to get together to have a playdate.  As annoying as she was, there was something sweet about watching the way Eilidh interacted with Winnie, as if they had been lifelong friends finally reunited after being torn apart.  

She let out a shallow breath as her companion turned her attention to the bees, briefly wondering why the vibrating man never came around when she was outside.  Was he afraid of her?  He should be.  “Will it hurt them?” she asked, eyeing the supplies curiously.  “Where in god’s name did you get all those things, anyway?  Do you just carry around supplies for bees just in case one of their hives happens to be shaped in a horribly offensive way?”

Eilidh shook her head down to the eagerly waiting dog. “Perhaps Cailleach brought you a gift, eh? Do we got you to blame for all this?” A finger booped playfully on top the canine’s nose. Winnie’s tongue slapped desperately across her own muzzle, trying to return the favor and lick that pressing digit—but reflexes were too slow and all that tongue met was crisp air. Despite Eilidh’s hand clearly returning to her side, that tongue continued a good few seconds before realizing defeat. At the sight, laughter burst out of Eilidh once more. Ripples of that giggle still ricocheted off her throat as attentions focused fully on the task at hand. Well, almost fully. “Won’t hurt ‘em.” Despite the smile that still clung to her lips, drops of aggression bled into her voice. Assuming the worst. Because she didn’t have the best examples to work with—and the better ones were lies. “Don’t be too disappointed.” 

The aggression bled out, for the most part, leaving behind her usual humors. “Stole ‘em. Shhhh, don’t tell. Always gotta keep ‘em on hand. These fuckers are sprinkled all over town. Got a second bag for pussy-shaped hives, too. Can’t mix those two up. ‘Less you want ‘nother Clevesdale incident.” In that following beat, unwavering eyes stared at Vic—expressionless. But only for a beat, for soon a lip twitch betrayed her and she sighed an amused breath. But the truth remained on her tongue. The fuck did Vic think, she’d show up empty-handed? Not that Eilidh was particularly above brute forcing some projects—perks of her biology led to lack of need for safety precautions. So, the supplies she hoisted from the bag were for the bees’ sake. Not her own. They found themselves onto her hands, inching closer to the hive. The inhabitants stirred at the action, air taking on a quick heartbeat in their unified song. But frost lulled them back to sleep. Leaving her to her work. “Gonna help? Or just stand there looking pretty?” 

Winnie seemed to be satisfied with her greeting, finally leaving Eilidh be in favor of giving Vic a quick, affectionate nudge before she ran off into the yard, darting past trees and zipping through flower beds and jumping into piles of snow, then circling the women quickly before doing it all again.  She’d once heard someone refer to this behavior as the ‘zoomies’, though she’d never lower herself to call it such a thing.  She didn’t know why she was relieved to know the beasts wouldn’t be hurt.  They had, after all, offended her greatly with their hive.  But she didn’t have too much time to think of it before Eilidh made her backhanded comment.  She narrowed her eyes at the woman, crossing her arms over her chest.  “Can’t be more disappointed than when you showed up on my doorstep, darling”.  If she were being honest with herself (an annoying habit she picked up lately) it was a bit of a strange relief to have Eilidh there.  Her companion, for all her bite and quirks, wasn’t a threat, and Vic supposed that was good enough for her.

“I never know when you’re being honest”, she responded, ignoring the rather large piece of irony that came with her saying such a thing.  She pursed her lips with disdain as Eilidh continued, clearly unappreciative of her choice of words.  “Can’t you find another word to describe them?  P...ussy is so- crass.”  The bemused twitch of her lips let her know that Eilidh thought she was being funny.  Vic, for her part, let out another annoyed huff.  Again, too, at the idea that she was meant to help.  (She ignored the way her heart fluttered at being called pretty, the way it always did when beautiful women took notice). “I had you come so I wouldn’t have to do the work”, she muttered begrudgingly, despite walking closer to Eilidh and the hive.  The bees buzzed around her at first, and she instinctively wanted to run away even though she knew they couldn’t hurt her.  She looked at Eilidh expectantly, and then down at her bag, not quite knowing what she was meant to do.  After looking between them once more, she hoisted it up, holding it out so Eilidh could rummage through.  “I think you mentioned on the ‘online’ that you’d remove this for free, but I will be paying you.  How much does one usually charge to remove offensively shaped hives?”

“Don’t be such a pussy ‘bout pussy.” The way the word struggled to release from Vic’s mouth—like sap oozing from a tree—sent chuckles freely from her own. Which quickly turned to a scoff at Vic’s protest. “I think ‘least you can manage”—words cut short as her idea came to life without any instruction, her bag brought up an easy arm stretch away—“… that.” Hands returned to the bag once more, confirming she had all she needed, though Eilidh no longer needed to bend as before. As they returned to the icy air, fingers brushed against Vic’s own. Despite the cold, only warmth pricked at her affected palm, up the connected arm. A reaction born of a time lost to a lie, she tried to remind herself. But the mind rarely won against the body, for it was one against all. So, she returned her gaze to the hive. She knew how to feel about that. “Not sure.” In truth, money was not something she put much thought into. The main reason it crossed her mind was to ensure the creatures that have come and gone from her life received satisfactory care. And Vic’s ignorance did present an opportunity to secure much funds for such care. But something else knocked at her mind, pushing out before it could supply an outrageous number value to her labor. “How ‘bout we trade in favors?”

The close proximity of foreign entities (What do they want? What will they do?) and of foreign tools (Will it hurt? Will it kill?) finally jolted the hive out of the winter stupor. A black cloud overcame the hive, phallic-shape lost under the swarm of small bodies. But what started as irregular began to form purpose. The lumps of the cloud elongated and quivered until something familiar was forged. Like looking at a fucked-up a mirror, Eilidh was greeted by the top-half of a humanoid body. Suspended in air, made entirely of bees. “There you are.” The being looked at her. Seemingly. The structure at the top, resembling a head, was tilted down. And the curve facing the shed was more pronounced, like where the skull met the back of the neck. Leaving the front pointed at her. Staring at her. A sea of many returned her gaze, a collective of eyes focused exclusively on her. Trying to meet one pair was fruitless—they weaved in and out of each other, blending into each other. Where one ended and another began was left unclear. But that was intentional. For they were more than just those of their parts. Not one. Not all. But both. And neither. And something new. 

“There is a man obsessed with insects in town.  Or- he inherited an obsession with insects, from what I’ve summarized.  He wanted to come get the hive as well if I’m being honest.  I agreed to let you come take it before your rudeness came out.”  Vic watched the ground as she spoke, the way the snow glistened against the twilight of the evening made it look like a natural shimmer on the ground.  She wondered what color paint it would take to achieve such a color.  “I’ll ask him what his going rate is.”  She narrowed her eyes at Eilidh, wondering if she was being serious with her implication.  “It’s incredibly illegal in the United States to trade services for such favors”, she chided disapprovingly.  “You expect me to behave like a depraved criminal?”  The thought was appealing, even if she didn’t particularly want to admit it.  Her bed had been particularly cold lately, especially since Marley found herself practically hitched.  It would be easy with Eilidh, especially if she could find some good-quality earplugs. 

Vic wanted to flinch as the bees swarmed, childhood fears of discomfort bubbling to the surface at the thought of being stung by the beasts.  But then she blinked as the swarm became more concrete, not quite believing what she saw forming in front of her.  “Oh.  That’s the naked man”, she said, everything coming into place.  “Perhaps this is why it appears he’s vibrating from afar.”  She stepped closer to Eilidh and the bee man, realizing now that these bees were less natural than she thought.  Phallic loving bees for sure, judging from the shape of the hive and the vibrating man’s apparent appendage.  “Maybe he needs to earn your trust before they’ll let you cut it down”, she suggested, her voice a hushed whisper in Eilidh’s ear.  “Naked man!”, she was shouting now, even though the bee man was barely two feet away.  “You are not safe here.  Or- you do not belong.  I do not wish to look at your offensive, ugly hive any longer!”

Eilidh blinked. Only once, realization pushed away the confusion and forced out a laugh. Loud and brief—thunderclap of amusement. “For someone who can’t say it. You got pussy on the mind.” Certainly hadn’t been the main path her mind ventured. While Vic’s body had been a topic—and sex did find itself lower down on the list—it had focused more on humiliation than pleasure. Though for some, the two weren’t so exclusive. The latter especially took a run about in her thoughts. Caused a prick of rage, though left an aftertaste of craving. A craving she thought she’d been done with, after the abandonment set in. But anger and lust often paired, at least for her. She eyed the woman up and down, hands unsure if they wanted to slap or caress. “‘Pends. How desperately you want ‘em gone?” Those hands found an answer at Vic’s… attempt to placate the hive. Directed shout caused the amalgamation to flinch in its own special way. Form rippled as if struck by the sound waves. Solidity returned at the insult, though stillness did not. Vibrations shook its entire core—caused a buzzing unlike anything heard before. Before the situation could be worsened, those decisive hands finally found themselves on Vic. And gave her a blunt shove. Right into the snow. “Anyway. Wanna get away from this bitch? To some place nice and warm? Summer’s only a few miles away.” Stillness. Silence. The hive watched her with consideration, head tilting in thought. 

Vic knew her face could no longer blush, but she was sure that the moment a laugh bubbled out from Eilidh, her cheeks turned a bright crimson.  She didn’t know why she assumed Eilidh had been making such an offer, but hindsight made her utterly embarrassed that she’d said it out loud.   “It’s just what I’ve come to expect from you”, she muttered out weakly, her hands traveling to smooth down her hair in an effort to keep themselves busy.  “Desperately enough to invite who I thought would be a stranger over to take them”, she answered honestly, wondering if this whole interaction might be over by now if she had just let the insect man grab the hive instead.  It certainly would have filled her with much less dread and guilt, that was for sure.  Vic let out an equally surprised and offended grunt when she was shoved to the ground, and her hands barely caught herself in time to stop herself from landing face-first in the snow.  The nerve of Eilidh pushing her down on her own property!  As she picked herself up and brushed herself off, face contorted with a mix of annoyance and offense, she distantly heard what her companion was saying to the dickbees.  “Bitch?”, she asked incredulously, clearly offended.  “That’s incredibly rude.  If you’re going to insult me, at least do it while I’m out of earshot like a decent person”, she huffed.  The bees, for their part, seemed calmed by Eilidh’s offer, and their shape began to form less of a man with every passing second, as if their demeanor was calming.  Despite all of the offense, Vic couldn’t help but glance again at Eilidh.  “I think they’ll like their new mom”, she said dryly.  Eilidh seemed to have some sort of special connection with stupid creatures, if her relationship with Winifred was any indication.

Eilidh smirked, eyes refusing to join the ground with the woman she addressed. “Then get outta earshot.” She felt a sudden pull for the amalgamation, at that quip of motherhood. Such a word always putting her in an odd sort of way, whether pleasant or distressed. But it passed just as the sourcing comment. A thought of apology was absent from lips and mind. Her attentions instead fully found themselves on the buzzing entity—though reaction would be mirrored if the two women had been alone. The two eliciting different reactions from the entity: buzzing turned chorus with Vic and trembling turned stilled at Eilidh. Both coursed over each bee unit as the legion’s gaze went back and forth. Overcome by waves of sound and silence. The silence won, revealing the hum of brisk winds in its wake, as the rocking head settled on Eilidh. Only turned to movement again to give a small nod. Almost simultaneously, Eilidh’s hands clapped together. That nod returned on her own head. “Lovely. Let’s get on it, then.” She began her work removing the hive as inhabitants watched with a curiosity. Even assisted when needed. Hands, both of flesh and of bees, worked silently for a minute or two. Until Eilidh broke it. “I’ll message later the payment. This was lots of work, you see.” The hive began releasing its hold on the shed easily, as if all it needed was a simple push. “Gonna need to really consider all the parts.” 

Vic crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at Eilidh, sending her a look of scorn and distaste.  “You get out of my earshot!”  Although there was a feeling, deep and dark and desperate to be ignored, that she didn’t want Eilidh to leave at all.  She watched with rapt attention and curiosity as the bees and Eilidh worked together to do their work, her companion seamlessly joining a computer-like system of workers who knew what needed to be done and when.  It was so easy for them to join together, even as Vic had only moments ago been thinking how inconvenient and annoying they both were.  She let out a huff when the work was done, unsure of what exactly she was feeling.  An urge to call Morgan pricked at the back of her neck like a bee sting.  “I’ll be waiting, then.  Don’t know why everything has to be such a big production.”  Eilidh, still in love with the theatrics, could have just told her how much she wanted here and get it over with.  But Vic didn’t hate the idea of having to meet up with her again.  As she watched her go, Winnie settled at her side, her breaths heavy and rambunctious as she watched with some longing her friend leave.  Vic tried to ignore her own feeling of longing, but life was never so simple or kind. 

[allylotti]

SIPPING JUICE — CHAPTER ONE

warnings: this story includes mature content such as substances, sex, suicide, and more that might not be suitable for people of the ages 16 and under.

( chapter one, 2253 words ! )

I TURNED AROUND AND THERE HE WAS... the boy that was always there for me and me for him. I smiled at him, running into his arms. I held him tightly, like I would never see him again. I sighed, letting free from my grasp

"I missed you so much Jarad-" I started to tear up a bit.

It had been almost three months since I had seen him, because for the first summer ever my dad decided that it was a good idea that I went with him for the summer. My mother agreed with him saying that it was good for me to spend time with my father. I begged her to not make me go, but she denied my request, so instead of using three months of my time being with my friend, they went to waste on my excuse of a father.

"Hey, look at me y/n, it's okay, I'm here." He smiled softly cupping my cheeks. "now don't cry ma' let's get you home, we can make up for lost time later." I nodded softly at what he said. He took my hand into his as we walked down the streets of Chicago that we called home. We walked in a comfortable silence the whole way to his place.

He smiled at me, flashing a pair of bronze keys at me.

I laughed a bit, "Huh, so your mommy finally thought you were grown enough for your own pair?" I teased him, he just rolled his eyes in response.

"Actually y/n, I made the copy myself from the spare so, ha, no my mother didn't give them to me" he remarked.

"Aww he's such a grown up!" I pouted. "I want baby Jarad back, have you seen him? You know the one with the baby face, and short, non dyed dreads?" I crossed my arms in a joking manner.

"Y/n, you act like a child-" he said, opening the door.

"It's because I want yours!" He looked at me seriously, and I said "I'm joking!"

As I walked into the small apartment, I noticed that there was something different, I don't know if it was a vibe or something physical that had changed, it didn't feel right with me.

"Jarad, did you guys change anything in here since I left?" He shook his head as a response. I assumed they just had a friend over or something and shook off the feeling that I had gotten, somewhat like an evil presence had been here.

"You still playing GTA Jarad?" I asked sitting down on his couch. "Uh yeah... I had to choose who the fuck I wanted to kill, Franklin, Michael, or Trevor."

"Please tell me you picked Trevor-" I said whilst picking up a controller for the PlayStation.

"Funny thing is I did" he laughed.

"How'd you kill him?"

"Fire"

"Oof- that shit must have sucked to die in" I laughed.

"Yeah, right. Well I'll be back, I'm going to take a shower" after that he walked upstairs, leaving me alone downstairs.

( a few minutes later ! )

There was a loud knock on the door, just as I had gotten shot in the head,

"Son of a bitch!" I grunted.

I walked towards the door opening it, revealing a short girl with dark hair and pink highlights. I felt that same vibe as I did earlier but I ignored it. A little annoying by her presence I asked

"What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" She replied with my question.

"Um... I'm Jarad's best friend, y/n, who are you?" She looked at me in disgust as those five first words came out of my mouth.

"Oh, I'm Alexia, Alexia Smith, nice to meet you y/n" she smiled fakely, I feeling petty today returned it.

"Is there anything I can get you, Alexia?" I questioned.

"Uh yeah, is Jarad home?" She asked looking down at her shoes.

"Um, no I'm sorry he isn't here right now, I'll let him know that you wanted him, bye, bye" I said shutting the door on her face. I sighed, pressing my back against the door, allowing myself to fall to the ground.

"Who was that?" I heard a voice in front of me asked.

Annoyed that he didn't tell me he had a new girlfriend I said "who is Alexia Smith?"

"Oh, I see, you've met her, Alexia is a friend I met at the park."

"Just a friend?" I cocked an eyebrow.

"Promise Y/n, I'd never lie to you"

"Okay, but I want you to sing for me, and in exchange I'll make you and ma' dinner, deal?"

He scratched his neck and looked down as if he were putting much into my question.

"Okay, Deal" he smiled.

"Oh, and you'll have to sing for me" I giggled. He smiled and tackled me onto the couch, we burst out in laughter.

"Oh god I've missed this" I smiled sadly, he sighed "me too, damn, it's only been three months without each other and it feel like it was an eternity, if we ever get like- supper mad at eachother and shit, and we like won't say sorry because of our pride- I don't know how I would do it, y/n, being without you is- worse than I thought" he chuckled.

"We won't- friends forever, remember? Always and forever" I sat up and kissed him on the cheek.

"Now you have to sing for meee!" I yelled.

"Okay, well so- I haven't told you this but...I've been working on some songs-"

"-And you didn't call me- nuh uh baby, show me them songs" I interrupted him.

"...sorry?" He asked in a way. I gave him a straight face and shook my head.

"Here look, I typed up the lyrics in my phone, but I don't know what to call it! I wanna do Autograph but I also want to do On my line" he pouted handing me the phone.

"Let me see, do you have this recorded Jare?" I asked, reading the lyrics.

He nodded in response, "I love it, and you know what you can call it, Autograph (On my line) it fits," I smiled, "now, the best part... sing it for me, please!"

"Fine" he cleared his throat, getting ready to sing for me.

"I hope I'm the only girl you sing to" I joked.

"You know I wouldn't do that shit with any other girl" he laughed.

"Why you mad,Why you mad, Why you mad, Why you mad?

That's all I wanna know! You're lookin' like a joke, try humour at the most. Steady chokin' on your shade like a dick in your throat,

Well if you're gonna throw shade my way, Maybe you should throw with a little more aim. It's a cold day in hell, when they dirty up your name.

They don't got no business talkin' in the first place i'm freezin'.

All these fuck bitches on my line, Damn bitch you must wanna die tonight

Yeah I rock a choker with a .45 and I know some bitches that are down to ride.

All these hatin bitches on my line, Damn bitch you must wanna fuck tonight!

Let me guess, you're my biggest fan right?"

I was surprised at how much he had improved in the last three months, he was always good but now he would just be top on the charts if he put his music on YouTube and whatnot.

"You wanted an autograph all you had to do was ask, woah

But you lookin like an asshole, Up on twitter and you lookin mad woke, talkin bout me! But you lookin bad woah, Like the ugly daughter that I never had woah, and what's up with these lames, Got my name in they mouth like they swallowin my Children, I never got why bitches hate, its probably Cuz im doin better than em anyway, Its probably cuz i get they bitches wetter anyway, it's Probably cuz im livin and they're in a lower place, They walkin in the slums while im vibin outter space.

Crash land just to take they girl on a dinner. Date, when haters see me winnin they just hyperventilate. They always try to stop me but i never hesitate,

Just follow all your dreams and when you reach them, Celebrate, that's the only way to truly make a hater suffocate.

All these fuck bitches on my line, Damn bitch you must wanna die tonight

Yeah I rock a choker with a .45 and I know some bitches that are down to ride

All these hatin bitches on my line, Damn bitch you must wanna fuck tonight

Let me guess, you're my biggest fan right? You wanted an autograph all you had to do was ask woah

Why you mad that's all I wanna know, Your lookin like a joke try humor at the most

Steady chokin on your shade like a dick in your Throat, well if you're gonna throw shade my way.

Maybe you should throw with a little more aim, It's a cold day in hell when they dirty up your name. They don't got no business talkin in the first Place i'm freezin, but these haters not breathin.

Stevie wonder to these haters no seein, And I don't believe it they hate me hate me for no reason. All these fuck bitches on my line,

Damn bitch you must wanna die tonight

Yeah I rock a choker with a .45 and i know some bitches that are down to ride.

All these hatin bitches on my line, Damn bitch you must wanna fuck tonight

Let me guess, you're my biggest fan right? You wanted an autograph all you had to do was ask woah." He finished, I started clapping.

"You, Jarad Anthony Higgins, are talented. No cap" I hugged him.

"Thank you" he smiled into the hug. "Now what's for dinner" he smirked.

"rice and beans, I'm kidding! My mom has some pasta at her house last time I checked, do you have oil or butter?"

"Yess"

"Okay, and no cheese, see after three months I couldn't forget your hate for cheese" I smiled.

Me and Jarad lived right across the street from each other. I walked out the door crossing the street, and walked in my "home", my mom was never home, she was too busy whoring around her body, when many people had offered her jobs, easy ones too! Even if they paid good money she would say no. The only time I would see her is if she had a guy over! And they wouldn't even be dressed, I basically lived with Jarad ever since my mom was fired for sleeping with her manager at her last job. When she would ground me from going to Jarads I would sneak out late at night through my window, and crawl in his. That was when I was twelve. That's why Jarad's mom is more of a mom to me than my own, she's always cared for me.

I took a deep breath in, smelling the air around me, "home sweet home" I mumbled sarcastically. Per usual it smelled like alcohol, weed, and sex. I rolled my eyes, seeing that she hadn't changed her habits. Walking into the kitchen, I opened the cabinet, finding the pasta just where I left it, I smiled to myself grabbing it and walking out. Shutting the door behind me.

I walked into Jarad's home, placing the pasta on the counter. I started to hum a song.

As I washed my hands Jarad came back into the room, I smiled. "I brought pasta" I sang,

"And you're humming Tupac, again" he sang back. I laughed "I'm always humming older songs" he laughed walking into the kitchen, next to me. He washed his hands and took out his phone playing the song I was humming. I laughed "you really did that didn't you?" I rhetorically asked while 'Picture me rolling' played in the background. He took out the pot and I put in the water, letting the pasta boil on the stove.

"Full grown, finally a man. Just scheming' on ways to put some green inside the palms" we both sang along. He wrapped his arms around my waist moving to the rhythm of the beat. I kissed his cheek, and smiled, "pastas ready" and as if on cue Mrs.Higgins walked through the door- she looked stressed. I smiled softly at her as she looked relieved seeing that dinner was already made.

"Y/n" she sighed "you're back!" She smiled brightly.

"You really thought I was going to leave yall, never"

When we ate dinner we caught up for the most part. Nothing too exciting happened in the last three months, but for some reason I couldn't help but think of that girl that stopped by. Jarad in a way seemed different, like he was hurt. It might have just been me, I've felt weird since I had left for the summer, getting these random feelings in my gut.

For the first time in three I slept in peace, knowing I was home. I was finally okay again.

[lemonsandstrawberries]

The Pitted Olive, part 10 - final

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony)

universe: Drag Queen!AU (Tony Stark as a drag queen)

summary: Steve gets the courage to ask Tony a very important question, all in a style worthy of his drag queen! Sam takes a new step in his life, friends gather and someone special makes an appearance.

length: 6 845 words

disclaimer: this fic is written strictly for entertainment. I am not a specialist on drag and my whole knowledge comes from mainstream media. if there is something you will find incorrect or offensive in any way, there is always an option to contact me and politely voice your thoughts instead of flaming. thanks!

a/n: that’s is it, the big finale! thank you, Ru Paul’s Drag Race for inspiration and introducing some wonderful drag queens into our lives! (some drag queens will make a guest appearance in this chapter, so be on a lookout - also, more a/n notes at the end of the chapter). thank you for reading, your support and love for this fic! if you enjoyed the series and last chapter, asks, reblogs and likes are appreciated and needed!

——————–

The Pitted Olive, part 10 - final

(part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9)

It felt nice. Warm and soothing. Smelled like lemons and sugar. Really, really nice.

It was all a trap.

"I can't believe you talked me into this," Steve grunted, curling on the stool in the bathroom, only in his boxers. There was more warmth on his back and he felt the scrape of a wooden spatula on his skin, smearing the sticky substance.

"Hmmm. I am very convincing," Tony hummed from behind Steve, clad in his obscenely short bathrobe and only that. Oh, how Steve loved that bathrobe.

"I am gonna cry. I know I will," Steve grew more and more nervous, pressed his palm over his eyes, and curled more in himself. "And stop that."

"Stop what?" Tony asked innocently, pressing the long stripe of material to Steve's back and smoothing over the sticky substance. Oh God, it almost started.

"Snickering at me," Steve complained, trying not to sound too pathetic. Judging by the giggle behind him, he obviously failed.

"You will be fine. If I can survive this, so can you."

Steve had serious doubts if he could survive back waxing. Or back sugaring, as Tony used his homemade sugar paste on him, claiming that it was more delicate than traditional wax and there was minimal risk of ripping off the outer skin layer. That didn't alarm Steve at all.

"You're gonna be so smooth after this," Tony hummed enticingly, still rubbing the stripe making sure it would catch as much hair as possible. "I won't be able to get my hands off of you," he said, leaning his warm weight over Steve's, the cool satin feeling pleasantly slippery and soothing on his skin.

Somehow from being too shy to pee in front of the other, their relationship developed to this. That was some progress.

"Okay, ready?"

That was a good question and meant so much more than Tony initially intended to. Steve felt more and more ready. There was no other person for him than Tony. No other tiny bathrobe he would be seeing for the rest of his life.

"I am gonna count to three. One, two, three!"

There was a ripping sound and Steve felt every hair pulled out from his skin. His mouth opened in a scream, eyes watered from the pain.

"SON OF A -!"

Tony whistled, examining the strap. "Woah, that came off nicely."

"Nicely?!" Steve squeaked out, the pain still prickling his nerve endings. It wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat. How Tony could do it to himself every month?

"Now we need to repeat it a few more times -"

"Nu-uh! I am out!" Steve protested, one time being enough. He darted off the stool, just to be firmly pushed down again.

"If you let me do it, you and Red Velvet will -" Tony leaned to him, whispering something into his ear, words that made Steve's blood immediately flow south of his body and culminate at one point. That was unfair.

"I hate you," Steve groaned, but obediently stayed on the stool. Call him weak.

"You know you love me," Tony said sounding too cheerful and spreading more of the sugar paste on Steve's broad back.

Steve knew. He really knew. And he wanted everyone else to know it too.

***

If Steve was still debating being ready to take that step with Tony, the ultimate reassurance came days later from a very unexpected place.

"You are the worst best friend, you know that?"

Steve blinked, seeing Tootsie, standing in front of his usual table in the Olive, full lips turned down in an upside-down u shape, eyes, framed with thick eyelashes and black eyeliner, shooting daggers at him. She wore her usual grungy style of clothing, torn flannel and tights, chunky earrings that were painful to even look at, and shorts so tiny and revealing as if Bucky wanted to make a statement that he was able to tuck perfectly, despite the origin of his drag name.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, not understanding what happened. He came into the bar just minutes ago and didn't have time to do anything yet, except maybe chatting to Thor at the front and sitting at his table.

"Why, why the hell you gave Red our childhood photos?!" Tootsie hissed, eyes narrowing even more.

Oooh. So that was the offense.

"I didn't, my mom did," Steve explained with a shrug, but Tootsie didn't even listen to him, just ranted away.

"Do you know what she is doing now? Do you? She kept showing those photos to everyone and going on and on how cute her drag daughter is. Do you have any idea what it does to my reputation?"

Steve just smiled, not seeing a connection why photos of a pair of kids in dungarees and with bruised faces could be so harmful.

"Red is just very proud of you," Steve kept smiling, easily picturing Tony going from one person to the other one, showing the photos to everyone who didn't manage to escape on time.

Tootsie waved him off. "I tried to steal them, but she made copies. She even stuck some on the mirror in her dressing room!"

"That's sweet," Steve said, laughing when Bucky cursed, which was a lot less sweet, but a whole lot more amusing. "I don't know why you are so upset about this."

"It's embarrassing, okay?" Tootsie hissed. Steve didn't know if she meant Red's overly motherly behavior or the fact that his friends and coworkers knew that kid Tootsie used to have a bowl cut, just like half of the kids back in those times.

Clearly, Tootsie waited for something, but Steve just shrugged again, really not seeing any problem.

"I will pour laxatives in your drink," Tootsie seethed.

Oh, low blow.

"You wouldn't," Steve narrowed his eyes back at his best friend.

"I would. You are just lucky I am not the one making drinks today."

Just to be sure, Steve glanced over at the bar, and saw Arrow behind it, skillfully mixing some cocktails. Next to her, was a new person, Steve had never seen before.

"I already put an order for your drink, because opposite to you, I am a good, loyal friend," Tootsie summed up their conversation.

Steve huffed in laughter. "Thanks, Buck," Steve said, the name coming out almost inaudible and more like a sigh to a nonskilled ear, but the lip movement was enough for Tootsie to decode the word. A little placated, she walked away, having to prepare for tonight's show.

"Here's your drink."

"Thank you," Steve smiled at the new girl as she put his drink on the table, and she smiled back at him, and Steve almost slid down from his seat in shock. He would recognize that teeth gap anywhere. "Oh my God, Sam?!" he shrilled out, trying to keep his voice low.

The girl jutted her left hip forward and shook her head full of curly hair. Sharp eyebrows, long eyelashes, big lips colored with an electric blue lipstick giving that special pop to the look and tight black dress made from lace. Not the most extravagant look Steve had seen on a drag queen, but there was something hypnotic about it.

"That's Parfait," the girl said, winking at Steve and walking away on black pumps with a sturdy heel, a model that was favored by people learning how to walk on high heels. Steve looked after Parfait, smiling to himself gleefully. It seemed that some changes were coming to the Mama's Little Bakery.

Sipping his drink, Steve listened to Tootsie, singing her rock songs and planning even more changes.

***

"Hey, Thor!"

"Hey, Steve," the blond bodyguard of the Pitted Olive smiled friendly at him. "Coming from the front today?"

"Um, not really, I just have some favor to ask," Steve smiled shyly, scratching the back of his head. "I will have some guests coming today, could you make sure they get to my usual table?"

Thor sent Steve a calculating look, not really keen on fulfilling the unusual request. After all, he was a bouncer and a bodyguard and it seemed more of a task for Arrow who had waitress duty today. Thor was ready to refuse, politely, of course, when Steve smiled broader, that bright, sunny smile that made him resemble a labrador puppy. And Thor liked labradors.

"Fine," reluctantly, Thor agreed. The things he did for regulars.

"Thanks!" Steve beamed more, "I have to set up some details now, I will send photos to your phone of who to expect."

Thor nodded. "Nice jacket, by the way."

Steve laughed nervously, feeling his cheeks heat up, unsure if it was a genuine compliment. "Thanks. I will see you later!" he waved goodbye to Thor and took his usual route to enter the club from the back.

Everything seemed to go well and Steve's heart was beating a cheerful melody. Even the expected, sour look Loki had sent him after he had entered the club, didn't bring him down. He stopped in front of Red's changing room, combing a hand through his hair, rehearsing in his mind what he wanted to say.

"Hey, nice jacket!" Arrow passed him and praised with an approving smile, on the way to her changing room. Steve smiled gratefully, feeling a lot more confident with having a drag queen's approval, especially one as much fashion-oriented as Arrow. He reached his hand to knock on the door to Red's changing room, feeling his heart in his throat.

He didn't let anyone on his plan and so far, everything was going good. The only person who knew what was about to happen was the owner of the Pitted Olive, an exceptionally somber-looking guy named Nick Fury, who, as Tony had told him, was once a very famous drag queen back in the day called Madam Wrath. A very fitting name.

Steve knocked on the door and entered after hearing Red inviting him in.

"Oh good, you're here!" Red called, turning around for a second, just to see who it was. Steve had walked on Tony in the middle of his transformation, he already had a face full of makeup, except the lipstick, hair hidden under the cap and was changing his clothes, already tucked in and in pantyhose and clearly struggling with a bra. It wasn't the most glamorous part of being a drag queen, but the view of Tony's shapely legs in sheen pantyhose caused Steve's heart to do a little flip. "Can you clasp my bra?" Tony asked, turning his back to Steve, holding the strap in each hand.

"Sure," Steve replied immediately, coming to the rescue. A moment later, the bra was on.

"Thanks," Red smiled, fixing the front of a lovely auburn color bra with lace on top. "It is a new bra, it doesn't want to listen to me - oh," she stopped talking when turned around and finally took a good look at Steve and his new style.

Maybe it wasn't the intention, but the first thing that came to Red's mind was that Prince Charming from "Cinderella" stood in front of her. Steve was wearing a shawl collar jacket, white shirt underneath and black slacks, and a black bowtie to match the whole look. It would be a very calm, classic set if it wasn't for the material the jacket was made of. Blue velvet. Shining and shimmering with a light blue undertone.

Red's blinked in shock, her big blue eyes framed in thick fake lashes and black eyeliner appearing even bigger before she smiled warmly at her boyfriend. "You look very handsome today," she said, approving the look, "is there some special occasion?" came a question and there was some flirting hint underneath.

A very special.

"Well, since you asked."

And then Steve got on one knee in front of her and took a black velvet jewelry box out of his pocket.

"Woah!" Red gasped, and her hands jumped up to her face in shock, a very Tony like gesture, before she toned it down and pressed one hand to her lips. "Steve, what's happening?" she asked, her hand sliding down, just a little to not obscure the words.

Steve just smiled gently, knowing all the words he wanted to say and guided by all the feelings he had felt since he saw Red Velvet for the first time and since his first non-date with Tony. Tony was someone truly special, changing his life and making it better, just by his presence. He helped find Steve the courage in places he didn't expect to ever be courageous, was understanding and kind, and just seemed to make Steve's world a brighter place. And when someone finds something so special, they should never let go of it.

So, he opened the box.

"From the moment I saw you, I felt like I was living in a dream. I was smitten by Red Velvet, some may call it an obsession," Steve said, laughing a bit and having Sam's face in his mind, "but it wasn't until I saw you, the real you, when I realized that reality can be better than dreams. I love and want all of you, and I hope you will take all of me too. So, Tony Stark and Red Velvet, will you marry me?"

Red's breath stopped when she saw the ring on the black insert. She looked back at Steve, eyes glistening with emotions, and said something Steve certainly didn't expect but found very fitting.

"I am glad I didn't get dressed yet, because, shit, I would have to change."

Then he heard a 'yes' and it was a good thing Red never did her lips makeup because it would get ruined anyway.

***

Sarah arrived about ten minutes earlier than Steve asked her to, firm in her belief that it was better to be a bit earlier and wait instead of being late and making someone wait for her, a view she successfully passed to her only son. That's why she expected Steve to already wait for her and she really wished he did, not understanding why her son asked her to come. Sarah looked from her phone to the brightly shining neon, unsure if Steve gave her the correct address. The name was the same, but the reality didn't match her expectations. The Pitted Olive in her head was a name suitable for an Italian restaurant and not for something that looked like a night cocktail bar. Besides, her son didn't drink a lot of alcohol and was more of a beer guy than a cocktail person, so why he invited her to a bar and sounded so urgent about it?

"Mrs. Rogers?"

"Yes?" Sarah turned in the direction of the voice, getting startled when met eye to eye with the muscled, grim looking bouncer. She had to raise some suspicion by lurking around the entrance to the bar, but then she realized that the bouncer knew her name. When the bouncer smiled, his face changed from intimidating to kinder one, showing that he had a gentle heart.

"I was asked to escort you to your table. Please come with me," the bouncer said, swiftly navigating through the crowd of customers gathering outside the Olive and Sarah followed.

Sarah followed the bouncer, feeling a little overwhelmed. The interior of the night bar was cozy, with nice, wooden furniture and subtly lit, giving a private, comfortable feeling.

"Please take a seat," the bouncer asked, moving the chair for her at the table in the front, near the stage Sarah just noticed. "If you allow me, I will take your coat."

"Uh, thank you, mister…?" Sarah asked, handing the bouncer her light coat and sitting down.

"Just Thor will be enough. I wish you a nice evening, ma'am," Thor smiled gallantly and went to resume his position in front of the club.

The temporary comfortable feeling was gone again and Sarah felt out of place once more. She had an open mind and was willing to accept many things, but didn't like to be lead astray. She was a patient woman, but enough was enough. Sarah opened her bag and reached for the phone when she noticed a familiar face near the bar and a smile immediately jumped on her lips. "Sam!" she called, waving to Steve's friend.

Sam, engrossed in a conversation with a pretty young girl behind the bar, turned around, blinking surprised when he saw Steve's mom. "Mrs. Rogers!" Sam called and waved back, turning to Tootsie to tell her a few words, before he took his beer and came closer. "Hello, Mrs. Rogers," he greeted her properly, leaning down so Sarah could smooch his cheek.

"It is good to see you, Sam," Sarah smiled, feeling at ease after meeting someone familiar. "How is your bakery doing?"

"Good, good," Sam smiled, taking a seat next to her and Sarah kept smiling, hearing that that deeply hidden tensed note that had always been in Sam's voice whenever he talked about his work was gone. Just like if something got unblocked in him. "Mrs. Rogers, what are you doing here?" Sam asked, not understanding.

"Steve asked me to come. He said he has something important to tell me - oh," she gasped, suddenly realizing where she was. "Oh, is this where Tony works?"

"Hello."

An unknown man and a woman approached the table, their arms hooked together.

"We are Red's friends, she told us to be here today," the woman said with a nice smile, waving to Tootsie behind the bar, the girl waving back at her. "I am Lady Mint," the woman said, gesturing to herself. She looked quite colorful, in a multicolored tie-dye kaftan, beautiful makeup and with a head full of platinum blond hair reaching her chin, teased and puffed out to perfection. "And this handsome man is James Rhodes," she introduced and the man smiled friendly.

"You can call me Rhodey," he said, nodding first to Sarah and reaching her hand to her, before shaking Sam's hand and Sam introduced himself, while Lady Mint sat next to Sarah on a chair that had been pulled out for her by Rhodey.

"And let me guess, you must be Steve's mom! I can tell because you both have that lovely face structure," Lady Mint said friendly and Sarah just couldn't take eyes off of the colorful and beautiful person next to her.

"Wow, you're so gorgeous," Sarah said, instead of the usual hello, and Mint smiled gratefully. "I am sorry I am staring, it is just the first time I am seeing a drag queen up close. Sorry! Is that something I shouldn't say?" she grimaced in panic and looked over at Sam, silently asking for help. Sam just smiled good-naturedly, because this was so like Steve's mom to be so honest and mindful at the same time.

"Don't worry, dear, if I didn't want people to look at me, I wouldn't dress the way I do," Mint said, fixing her hair and making it even puffier. It brought attention to her nails, long and painted with mint color nail polish with some crystals at the tips. "I met your son once at Red's apartment. You have a very charming son, Mrs. Rogers."

"Oh, thank you. You can call me Sarah by the way," Sarah said, smiling and addressing both Rhodey and Mint. "So, from where do you know Tony?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Tony and I started drag at the same time. The drag community was much smaller back then, all performers knew each other," Mint answered with a polite smile.

"I work with Tony, we have a business together," Rhodey said his story.

"Oh, you are a drag queen too?" Sarah beamed, more and more intrigued.

Rhodey laughed and shook his head. "No, ma'am. I meant Tony's day job, we own a few car workshops."

"But that's a pity, right?" Mint jumped in, grabbing Rhodey by the arm. "He would make such a pretty girl!"

The conversation continued, drinks were served (Grasshopper for Lady Mint, Whisky Sour for Rhodey, and Sarah got talked into ordering Barbara, which was a mix of vodka, cacao liquor, cream and milk, the sweet flavor overpowering vodka and making the whole drink smoother and subtle on the tongue, and a refill of beer for Sam) as the club was slowly filling up with steady customers and newcomers. Sam and Rhodey found a common language, discussing the details of Rhodey's work and all the prime brands he got to tinker with, while Sarah and Lady Mint were chatting it up, just discussing everything, when it was interrupted by dimming lights and limelight pointed at the small stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Loki's mellow voice announced through the speaker, "please welcome our first performer of the night, the sweetest cake in town, Miss Red Velvet."

The silver curtain was pushed open and Red Velvet walked on the stage in a round of applause and almost a collective gasp echoed through the audience. There was no doubt, that the woman on stage was Red Velvet, even if at first glance she didn't look like it. The dress she chose was simple in cut, long and draping over the floor, with subtly widening sleeves covering wrists and a jewel neckline, hiding collarbones, almost not showing any skin. It was tight, accentuating the perky butt and round hips and a lovely hourglass figure. The most surprising was the choice of the material - it wasn't red, but all gold and shimmering, a little bit crinkling and catching light from every angle. Red Velvet looked as if someone poured gold over her body and let the precious metal set, shaping a dress over her. Such rich dress didn't require any fancy hairstyle and her black hair was combed neatly to the back and forming a low bun. Red smiled, light falling on her radiant face and glossy, red lips.

"Is that Tony?" Sarah asked in a surprised whisper, leaning closer to Sam and clapping enthusiastically with everyone else. Impressed was not a big enough word. She saw some of Tony's drag looks earlier, but only in photos and seeing this beautiful woman live was a different experience.

Sam nodded, not understanding the change and glancing over at other drag queens in the bar, but everyone seemed puzzled as he was.

"Good evening," Red Velvet kept smiling and the applause dimmed. Red took the microphone in her hand and started walking on the stage, her dress swiping over the floor. "I know you all noticed something different about me today," she said in a playful tone, getting a small laugh from the audience. "But this is not the end of surprises. First, I want to tell you a story. Some time ago, I met this guy," some suggestive whistling from the audience and Red winked, "this very special guy. One of a kind, but I am sure you already know this story, a guy meets a guy, they fall in love, yada yada yada," she rushed her own monologue, wanting to get to the gist faster. "And everything is great. Wonderful. And then… it happens. Just like that," she snapped her fingers, building the tension. "So I sadly inform you all, that this is one of my last performances as Miss Red Velvet," she said in a sorry tone, nodding her head sympathetically and rising a disappointed whine from the audience. Before the sad mood could start for good, she shook the sleeve on her left arm, letting it slide down and putting it out for everyone to see. "Because very soon I am gonna be Mrs. Red Velvet, I am engaged, bitches!" she shouted with a big smile, a gold ring with a row of diamonds shining on her finger.

The outburst of happiness was overwhelming and certainly drawing out the harsh sound as if someone dropped a microphone down. Sarah pressed both hands to her face, hoping that it was all going in a direction she thought it was going, Sam stared and clapped almost mindlessly, while Rhodey blinked surprised, and Mint tried to get Tootsie's attention to ask what was going on, but Tootsie, together with Arrow, were absolutely going wild behind the bar, probably cheering the loudest.

"And now, I would like you all to meet him," Red said into the mike, trying to be louder than everybody, "you probably already seen him," she added in a playful jab, meaning Steve's almost stalking her, "but it is the first time you will really meet him, my personal Prince Charming, my future husband, Mr. Blue Velvet! Come on, hun!" she called, gesturing at the silver curtain.

Steve's appearance was met with more applause as he entered the stage in his blue velvet jacket, smiling insecurely, but clearly happy. After having a final confirmation, Sarah sobbed into her hands from happiness, and Rhodey, Mint, and Sam stood up, joining the cheering for the just engaged couple. Steve walked to Red and put an arm around his lady, and they kissed briefly, Red cupping Steve's face tenderly. Usually, Tony had to stand on his tiptoes or pull Steve down into a kiss, but thanks to high heels, Steve had to tilt his head up just a bit, Red slightly higher than him.

"Drinks are on me tonight!" Red called, raising her hand, adding to the applause and cheering. "Tootsie, hide the most expensive liquor," she added after a while to her drag daughter, of course speaking into the microphone in an exaggerated whisper for everyone to hear and laugh at, and Tootsie saluted at her drag mom.

It was as happy as it could be, and Steve and Red were getting lost in each other when the final person and a very late guest showed up.

"Excuse me, coming through, EXCUSE ME!"

A harsh voice cut through the cheer and Red almost fell off the stage in shock when another limelight fell on the newcomer. The club exploded with a new level of cheer when people realized who just entered the club. A black sequin dress, a big updo of red, curly hair with straight bangs and black hairband. Big eyelashes, big red lips, and dimples on each cheek.

"Is this the joint my daughter performs at?!" Bianca del Rio shouted in her microphone in her characteristic loud voice, everyone clapping at her and confirming. "Good, because all those bars smell the same to me," more laughter when Bianca displayed some of her typical sarcastic humor, "and where is my lovely - DEAR GOD, Red, is that you?!" she bellowed out, looking at the stage and at still shocked Red Velvet, "what happened to you?! You look TERRIBLE!" she added, meaning the lack of her trademark color.

Red Velvet seemed speechless, while the crowd laughed at the playful remark. Steve had to bump his shoulder with Red's, trying to break her out of the trance, and put the mic to her lips, urging her to speak.

"Em, uhm-" was all that came out of Red Velvet's mouth and Bianca put one hand on her hip and glowered in a very motherly fashion.

"Just like mom taught you. Is that a way to speak to your mother?!" Bianca yelled and the crowd laughed, enjoying this mother-daughter encounter.

"Uh, what are you doing here, man?" Red finally asked, sounding a lot more like Tony, than Red Velvet. Bianca del Rio was a busy woman, traveling and performing all around the globe since she won that show which name slipped Tony's mind.

Bianca shook her head in reprimand, but smiled in the end, her cheek dimples showing again. "Your lovely boyfriend invited me here! He can be a persistent one," she said, gesturing at Steve. Red whipped her head and stared at Steve in shock and he smiled sheepishly. Reaching Bianca wasn't easy, but he wanted all of Tony's friends to share this moment with him. "I guess he is not your boyfriend any longer though! So, just let me congratulate you both and I am just gonna sit quietly here and enjoy the show," she added, turning her voice down, pointing at the table where Sarah, Sam, Rhodey and Lady Mint were sitting at, Thor already putting another chair for her, between Sarah and Lady Mint. "Thank you, darling!" she smiled at Thor and turned to the people at the table. "Hi, I am Bianca del Rio," she reached her hand to greet everyone, "you must be Steve's mom?" she said looking at Sarah, who seemed stunned but pleased, not really understanding everything that was going around her, but delighted to be a part of it, "kids grow up so fast, right?" she sniffled exaggeratedly and sat down.

From there it went smoothly and Red Velvet performed a spontaneous singing duet with her fiancé before singing her usual repertoire, Arrow did a magic act out of her routine, Tootsie sang some heavy songs, and even Lady Mint and Bianca got talked into performing. Halfway the night, Sam had sneaked out to his bakery, and with Rhodey's help, rolled in trays of white sheet cakes, covered in vanilla buttercream and decorated with piped out roses and written congratulations to Red and Steve and everyone got a slice, wishing the newly engaged couple all the best.

It was a long, cheerful evening and one of a kind engagement party.

***

"Morning, Sam!"

"Hey," Sam smiled a toothy smile when Steve walked into Momma's Little Bakery. It was as pink and frilly as always, but Sam seemed much more relaxed, busing at the counter and stacking freshly made buns and cookies for the early customers, already in his white and pristine work clothes. "How are you feeling?"

"Good, thanks," Steve smiled back, breathing in the scent of fresh pastries. Yesterday was a great night. It still felt a little unreal to him, having a fiancé, but seeing the engagement ring on Tony's finger while he had leaned down to kiss his sleeping queen and went out to get some fresh bread for breakfast was a very real reminder. "Do you have any brioches today? I want to make French toasts for Tony's breakfast."

"Yeah, I had a feeling you might want one," Sam nodded, turning to the shelves and taking off a perfectly baked brioche, light and fluffy, gold and shiny, and put it in a paper bag. "I have fresh baguettes too, will pack you a one. Anything else?"

"Yeah," Steve smiled, leaning on the counter, with a bright grin. "Soooo... Blue lips, huh?"

Sam waved the baguette in warning at this friend but smiled back. It wasn't something he ever imagined himself doing, but overall it was a fun experience. Maybe Parfait would appear in the Pitted Olive from time to time. Steve enjoyed seeing Sam like that, more opened and relaxed, the previous tension gone. Getting in touch with his female side did a great thing for Sam.

"You should try it too by the way," Sam said, handing Steve a bag with bread, and not knowing when Sam had sneaked a small round loaf of sourdough inside. "Being in drag," Sam hinted when Steve didn't catch on.

"Aaah, I don't know," Steve said, awkwardly. He was happy for Sam, and anyone who found their calling in drag but wasn't sure if it was for him, even if Tony subtly tried to convince him to wear drag, even once. And well, he already wore high heels. And used facial masks. And waxed. Was that the next step? Just to see how it is to be 'on the other side'? "Maybe? But I am not getting married in a dress," Steve said quickly before anything could pop into his friend's mind.

Sam whistled. "Believe me, no one wants to see that, pal."

Steve laughed. "Hey, what's that-"

"Man, why it is so loud in here?!"

Steve heard a voice and stared when he saw Bucky, standing in the doorway leading to the backspace. Hair ruffled from sleep, some smudged makeup under his eyes, and a spare set of white clothes, shirt, and pants, Sam used while baking, all crumpled. Comparing to Sam's work look, Bucky looked like a total mess.

"Buck, what are you doing here?" Steve asked, watching Bucky yawning and snatching a fluffy bun from the display, hearing Sam's hiss to not touch the bread.

"Uh, your engagement party went on and on, and by the time it finished, I was too tired to get to my own place, so Sam allowed me to crash on the couch in his bakery," Bucky explained in a bread obscured hum.

"Wait, you didn't go home?" Steve turned to Sam, not understanding.

Sam shrugged, "I start baking at 5 am. There was no point."

"Oh man," Steve's voice dropped and he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling bad. Seemed that because of him, none of his friends got any decent rest, while he and Tony cuddled for the whole night, feeling blissful and in love. "Sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" Sam snorted, and Bucky would do the same if he wasn't devouring the bun in greedy bites. "It is not every day when your best friend gets engaged, it is all good."

"Hm," Steve smiled softly, grateful for that point of view. Sam always supported him. Bucky was back in the city. And he had Tony. Everything was turning out so good.

"Also, not gonna lie, I am letting this one slide, because I want to be the one to bake your wedding cake," Sam added.

Steve laughed and nodded, agreeing, not imagining anyone else in that role. Sam could do some amazing things and uniquely combine flavors. There was no one better for the job.

"Besides," Bucky swallowed the bun down, "someone had to help Sam get out of the dress anyway."

"Please, no details," Sam sighed, warning Bucky who grinned mischievously.

"Oh, I want to hear all the details," Steve leaned in with a cheerful smile. "But maybe later, I have to get back to Tony, but first I want to know - why Parfait?"

"Par-fè," Sam corrected, using French pronunciation, ignoring the way Bucky ostentatiously rolled his eyes, "because it has layers."

That was a reasonable explanation. Steve nodded, knowing that there was more to his friend than just the outer layer, of a seemingly tough guy who grew up in a problematic neighborhood. Sam loved to bake good, honest bread but also had a knack for decorating cupcakes and cookies making them look like something from a fairy tale land. It was a good name for him.

"Hah!" Bucky laughed, bringing attention to him. "You know what also has layers? Onions."

"At least I tucked in properly at my first attempt!" Sam defended his name choice while ridiculing the origin of Bucky's drag name. Tootsie Roll was a good name too.

"Yeah, because I showed you how!"

"Okay, you are in my bakery now, so you either stop being a smartass and I will let you have another roll, or you can get your stuff and go home, you have an evening show," Sam gave Bucky a choice.

Bucky opened his mouth to snark back, but zipped it, looking at all the freshly baked bread and rolls. Well, he would be a fool to get himself kicked out from bread heaven...

Steve laughed to himself, watching pleased looking Sam handing a hungry Bucky another roll, his friend biting right into the soft, baked goodness. Bucky wouldn't be Bucky if he didn't add something, and he kept muttering more things that had layers between the bites, including ogres and, for some unknown reason, witchers. They chatted for a bit longer and when first customers started to line up, Steve took his bag with bread and headed home, back to his fiancé, his steps as light as air.

***

When Steve walked back into the apartment, it was barely after 9 am. He knew that Tony liked to sleep in after his shows, and Steve was really surprised when he heard Tony's voice, high and excited, coming from the bedroom.

"Babe? You awake?" Steve asked, peeking into the bedroom, still holding the bag with bread in his hands.

"Oh, hi!" Tony, flat on his stomach and on the top of the covers, wearing nothing except his short, silk robe, lay in the middle of the bed, swinging feet in the air, his phone pressed to his ear. He turned to Steve briefly, smiling sweetly. "Yeah, my fiancé just walked in," he said, addressing the person on the other side of the line, "yhm. Latrice says hi!"

"Um, hi," Steve blinked, not knowing who Latrice was and why was calling Tony so early. Then he realized, that it probably was a stage name and Latrice was one of Red Velvet's sisters. Mr. Blue Velvet and Miss Red Velvet's, as they were dubbed in the Olive yesterday, engagement was no secret, photos from the event already going around on social media.

"It's been calling since you left," Tony laughed, pointing at his phone, confirming Steve's theory. Ah, phone calls with congratulations. The word spread quickly in the drag queen's world. That just gave Steve some time to make breakfast. He leaned down and quickly smooched Tony's, already puckered up lips, and walked out of the bedroom, still hearing Tony's voice.

"No, I didn't expect it! Yeah, a total surprise. What do you mean by about time?! Girl, you are older than I am and got married two years ago! By the way, my invitation still didn't arrive. I know, right? Damn post, always losing things..."

Steve took off his shoes and washed his hands, before preparing breakfast. Something simple and tasty, so he sliced some fruit and put on the platter, preparing the eggs and milk mixture for the French toasts. He sliced some thick pieces of the soft brioche, wanting it to soak nicely, but before that, he would have to call Tony over, so the brioche won't fall apart. Steve entered the bedroom, seeing Tony in the exact same position, still going on and on on the phone, not even noticing him.

"Yeah - eep," Tony made a high pitched sound, feeling fingers walking down his heel. Across the sole, and Tony had to bite a laugh down, and then fingers hooked around his ankle, dragging him on the bed. "Ah, Latrice, sorry, I gotta go, fiancé fever, you know how it is, stay fabulous, love you girl, byeeee!" Tony squeezed many words into the short moment, in which Steve pulled him close, surprising Tony with a long kiss.

"Mhm," Tony hummed contentedly, turning to better face Steve and wrapped hands around his, officially, fiancé's neck, pressing their bodies together. That short bathrobe and a ring on Tony's finger - it was everything Steve wanted to see for the rest of his life.

"Are you done talking?" Steve asked into the kiss.

"Only if you have some better proposition for me," Tony fluttered his eyelashes in a flirty move. As an encouragement, Steve kissed him again, long and sweet, letting the feeling linger.

"French toasts for breakfast?" Steve asked after the kiss ended, leaving Tony a bit breathless and starry-eyed.

"You read my mind," Tony giggled happily, letting Steve pull him up from the bed. It was high time for them both to spend some time together and a shared breakfast was a good start.

Until Tony's phone started to ring again.

"Oh," Tony looked at the screen and Steve did too, seeing a face in full makeup, the photo signed Manilla. "Can I...?" Tony asked, smiling shyly and gesturing at his phone, abandoned in the covers.

Steve sighed dramatically. He liked to think that Tony belonged only to him, but Red Velvet had many sisters that clearly wanted to congratulate her and be a part of the big day. What kind of fiancé Steve would be if he denied Tony that?

"The last one," Steve negotiated, pulling Tony closer and wrapping hands possessively around his lover, "and then I want you all to myself," he said, obscenely groping Tony's round butt, just to make a point.

Tony giggled again, clearly delighted with Steve being so handsy. "Okay," he agreed, plopping down on the covers again, "the last one before breakfast! Aaah!" Tony squeaked, when Steve sunk down right after him, trying to unwrap his fiancé from the tiny bathrobe, just like one unwraps a present, all accompanied by Tony's excited laughter, Steve's hungry growling, and the melody of 'I want to break free' by Queen, Tony had set as a ringtone.

Breakfast could wait. Tony could call back. But their life as an engaged couple started right now and it was a moment Steve didn't want to share with anyone. Only him, Tony and Red Velvet.

'I've fallen in love for the first time. And this time I know it's for real. I've fallen in love, yeah. God knows, God knows I've fallen in love.'

————-

<– previous part

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ta-dam, the big reveal of Tony's drag mom! also, some more of my fav drag queens got a shout-out. Sam's drag name was created by @roshytsunami, thank you for following this story! Steve's outfit is the outfit Chris Evans had on during Oscar Gala in 2019, if you are wondering.

————-

tag list

@destiel-is-classic, @prithvik , @azurixx ,  @mangakats, @mystey-writes,@w1nters-stark, gloriousmarvellokiturtle, @the-pop-culture-geek

[twriteskpop]

ADRENALINE (Jungkook AU x OC )

The silence of Delilah's apartment was the welcome letter to the thoughts penetrating her sleepless mind. Between work and the drama she had escaped from not too long ago,  she had plenty to think about.  However,  Delilah was tired of letting the poisonous brain seep into every gyrus her brain had. A year ago she would have just smoked marijuana and used that as a sort of pest control for trauma. She'd given that up after she moved back to Florida,  calling it a cleansing.  392 days of the protruding thoughts finally caught up to her. Tempted by her neighbors that she grew close to,  she held strong.  They had offered her the green substance many times considering they were never sober,  except in slumber.  The neighbors reminded Delilah of Dank and Dabby from the Netflix series Disjointed. They were always high on marijuana, were comical,  but had hearts of gold. They lived in the apartment beside her and were friendly with her from the day she moved in, 392 days before.

Delilah was strong, but even Superman had his weakness. Superman had kryptonite,  Delilah had her thoughts. She needed them to go away even for a brief period of time.  

Delilah pushed the salad bowl off of her lap and onto the coffee table. She picked up her phone and began texting her neighbors. Instantly,  she got a response. Bennet and Clarissa were two kind hearted people who became two of the only people Delilah could call friends and they were well aware of this,  so they kept an eye out for her. This included always being available to talk.  

It was no shock to Delilah as her phone buzzed and Clarissas name popped up on her screen.  She clicked open her phone and read the grey bubble: Hey D!  Btw, our dog climb over to ur balcony again? Delilah pushed herself off of the couch and walked over to her sliding glass door.  For what seemed to be the tenth time this month,  the golden Retriever had been laying on her empty balcony,  enjoying the cool weather. The balconies were connected by one wall that was waist high for a 5'3 person.  It may have not been the best architecture but she didn't expect any less for how cheep the rent was. Delilah reached over the wall and knocked on the glass door. Clarissa came walking out eating what looked to be a triple chocolate chip cookie. Delilah smiled at her taller friend and pointed to the ground,  "Tuck likes my balcony more,  apparently." Clarissa finished the last bite of her cookie and asked for Delilah to meet her in the breezeway.  

Delilah beckoned Tuck inside her apartment and out the front door where Clarissa had been waiting.  Tuck sat beside Clarissa as she spoke,  "thanks girl. We have some cookies we made,  some without… you know, we made those ones just for you.  We were going to bring them in the morning but then you texted. Speaking of,  what did you need?" Delilah took a deep breath and smiled up at her neighbor,  she must have just retouched her bright red hair because it looked more like a fire truck on this day,  than ever before.  "I would actually like one of the special cookies.  And a number… to your supplier. If that's okay?" Clarissa flicked a brow up at her in suspicion.

"You a narc now?" She scrunched her perfectly arched brows. Delilah shook her head,  letting out a slight chuckle,  "I'm starting to forget why I quit in the first place." Clarissa frowned and pulled out her phone. She typed frantically and Delilah felt a buzz in her pocket.  "Thanks," Delilah smiled. Clarissa went inside her own apartment and put the dog inside,  returning soon after with a Tupperware bowl of cookies.

"The wrapped ones are the special. We were about to start a movie if you wanted to come over?" Clarissa informed,  leaving her apartment door open just enough for them to enter.  However,  Delilah was exhausted and had an opening shift at the diner so she politely declined. She walked back into her apartment,  placing the cookies on the counter,  unwrapping the marijuana one and went to lay down.  The cookies smelled rich of cocoa and were soft at the first bite. She could hardly taste the thc,  which means it was very well made,  and with every bite she felt like her tongue was sitting in a bath of chocolate.  It was heaven.

Clarissa and Bennet were Delilahs first friends when she moved back,  and became like family over the year.  They hung out multiple times a week and always did favors for each other.  She knew she could pay for the cookies in dog sitting later.  

It took twenty minutes of mindless scrolling through Instagram for the thc to kick in and slowly,  and quietly,  she fell asleep.

For the first time in months,  Delilah woke up to the sound of her bird song alarm without wanting to throw her phone through the glass window. She woke up refreshed.  She sat up from her bed,  walked over to her shower and began getting ready for the day.  She works in a 50's style diner with a perverted boss named Tim,  so her uniform was a short poodle skirted dress,  50's style shoes,  and hair in a high pony with a matching bow. It was a cute uniform,  but the sexual harassment that came as an accessory was not.

She got into her yellow '67 Volkswagen Beatle and drove the thirty minutes to work, without the touch of dread she normally had about going to work at six in the morning.  

The roads were empty,  and so was the parking lot.  Only three cars were in the employee spots,  including hers.  She felt some relief that the chef was beside the owners car,  this would mean Tim wouldn't be able to harass her too much this morning.

She walked into the checkered, from wall to floor, diner.  She was greeted by the familiar smell of coffee,  maple bacon,  and sweet pancakes. She punched in her ID number on the tablet in the back,  then made her way to the front of the kitchen,  tying her apron around her waist.  She knew Tony was going to be in his usual spot at the grill,  working on making plates for the staff before opening at 6:30.  Tony was a tall,  buff,  Italian man who had a thick new york-italian accent. His hair was gelled back and he fit every stereotype anyone could think of when it comes to an Italian-american, which he would gladly tell anyone.

Tony passed her a plate,  smiling per usual. "You have so much energy in the morning.  I'm envious," Delilah smiled,  pulling a fork from the tray. She bit into a dry pancake,  savoring the natural sweetness. She then moved on to a slice of bacon before hitting start on the coffee machines. Tony glanced at her with a side-eye,  "someone's actually eating the food I make for her?  Is the world ending?  I better tell ma!" Delilah poured herself a cup of coffee and lifted a brow at him,  "Tony,  I eat." He chuckled,  shaking his head while flipping the linked sausage,  "I have known you for… what?  A year now?  You take baby bites of everything and say you're full. Ma says you're tryna be skinny when I tell her all about it.  It hurts my feelings you know?  You're a beautiful lady!  Thin as a twig I'd say-" He was rambling,  but cut off by Tim walking through the swinging black kitchen doors. "Open in five," The blonde,  heavyset man in his late 30's smiled at the sight of Delilah,  "hey hot stuff. Mrs. Marigold is already at her table. Coffee." Delilah brushed off the comment and poured the sweet grey haired woman a cup of coffee.  She was a regular,  so Delilah knew she would want exactly three spoons of sugar and a splash of sweet cream.

The hours of the morning shift had passed and Delilah was soon to be off work.  Tim was full of inappropriate remarks and gropings per usual,  making this day just like any other.  When she got off work,  she climbed into her Volkswagen and pulled out her phone. She opened the message from Clarissa the night before.

Delilah hesitated as she copied and pasted the number into her text message bar. Being medicated last night made sleeping easier,  and even boosted her mood this morning but it made her feel numb. Being numb had it's ups but it caused a lot of downs prior to her decision to quit.  Sure marijuana stopped her from thinking and it wasn't a heavy drug so she could still have mild thoughts,  but some things she should have thought about,  she impulsively did because she was high. However,  smoking was more responsible than drinking because she was able to think and could remember everything. She hasn't ever been a real drinker,  but people close to her were and she would tell you that she's seen people worse off drunk,  than high.

After ten minutes had passed of just staring at the screen,  she began typing the number,  making her final decision.

Hello,  I got your number from Clarissa S. Can you meet today?  

Her engine roared to life and she shifted her gear into drive. The radio was softly playing today's pop hits from Spotify linked to her phones Bluetooth. The Orlando afternoon traffic was irritating to most people,  but she had no where to be except home.  So as she drove,  weaving in and out of lanes,  letting tourists with out of state plates pass her at any opportunity,  she began to think of the bad decisions she made by simply being high.  Numb to dumb,  as she called it several times.  She had never done anything criminal,  but definitely ended up in several dangerous situations. It was not enough to get her to change her mind now.  She enjoyed the sleep she got and Tim's harassment had not bothered her too much today,  all because of the sleep last night.  It was a butterfly effect she wanted to feel again.  

As she pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex, she heard the phone ping in the passenger seat. She parked in her usual spot, next to the stairs of her building, and reached to read the notification.

I can meet in 15 min at Bill Fredrick park. Text me when you get there. First time meetings are in public. See you then. JK

------------------- A/N I'm so happy to be back.  I've been writing on a different account and I've definitely improved.  😌 PLEASE Leave feedback if you want! I love tips too!  I have big plans for this.  

-T

[tomhiddleston-is-mischief]

James Conrad x Reader, Prompt #8? Making a lot of dessert for Christmas except you keep accidentally messing up with little things, or forgetting steps because you're so busy?

Hope you like it :) I put the song ‘White Christmas’ by Elvis Presley bc it just fit in so well!

“Cake and Elvis”

James Conrad x reader

Word count: 946 (ik it’s a little bit short, but it’s still super fluffy)

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I put ten eggs. TEN EGGS?! The recipe only needed six, and for some reason, I put ten?! I groan, and look at the mixture of ten eggs, a whole two cups of milk, sugar, and whatever else the recipe called for. It cannot be that bad, right? It is only a little bit more than what was needed! I pour the mess into a pan, and sigh in exhaustion.

The Christmas season really takes a toll on someone, huh?

James popped his head into the kitchen, wondering what I was doing. I groan in frustration as I look at the oven. I have messed up the recipe for James’ favorite cake. “I wanted to surprise you…”, I pout, making him wrap his arms around my waist. He rubs my back, while kissing my forehead. “With what?”, he asks. “I was going to make you a surprise cake since it is Christmas Eve! But guess what I had to forget to buy?! The frosting! Who forgets to buy frosting when they are making a cake, James??”, I vent to my fiancé. “Woah, woah, woah! You’re fine, babe. I’ll go get the frosting from the store, and we can do this! Okay?”, he pecks a kiss onto my lips. “Yeah.. You sure that won’t get in your way?”, I ask the man. “No,”, he chuckles,”I don’t have much to do tonight anyways. I mean, besides spending my night with you.” I smile at his words, and put a kiss on his lips, as he did mine not very long ago.

I send James on his way, smiling to myself. Not many people had gotten to see this soft side of him. We had met on Skull Island a couple of years ago. I was a botanist, who had gotten into a dilemma with those ugly pterodactyl-looking things. He was a tracker, who staved me. Ever since then, James and I have not split ways. We kept in contact, and now, we will be married in a few months.

Before I know it, James comes back with a bag of goodies. He gave me the frosting with a smirk on his sweet lips. He opened the can, and put some on my nose. “Hey!”, I laugh as he does so. “Here, darling.”, he kisses my nose, and licks the frosting off it. I blush, and get the warm cake out of the oven. “Oh, shove off, Conrad.”, I laughed, seeing his reaction to the redness of my cheeks. He holds his hands up in defense. “I only like seeing how shy I can make my fiancé!”, he says, making me chuckle. “Oh, I know you do.”, I shake my head, putting the frosting onto the cake.

After I put a good amount of the brown, sugary substance on my creation, I smile to myself, completely forgetting about my frustrations from twenty - or so - minutes ago. I feel arms wrap around my waist as I try to cut the chocolate cake into an even amount of slices. James walks away, so I look around to see that he is getting the record player set up. I hear him chuckle as he puts on a record. I roll my eyes, knowing what he is going to want. The soft piano goes along with the mood of the room. “C’mon, love! Dance with me!”, James tugs at my hand. “You know I’m busy, honey.”, I smile, knowing I will not be winning.

“I’m.. dreaming.. of a white Christmas..”, the voice of Elvis Presley fills up the room. James borrows me from my cutting, so we could dance to the lovely song. “Darling, I know you love this song enough to dance with me.”, he smiles down at me. I return the gesture, and rest my head onto his shoulder as we dance together. We sway in the middle of my mess of a kitchen, making me chuckle. “What?”, he smiles. “This seems like a fantasy, James. I never would have that I would be marrying a man that loves me this much. I love you a lot, honey. Thank you.”, I press a kiss onto his lips. Once we break apart, his licks his lips,”I love you too, y/n. I love you more than anything or anyone imaginable.” I grin as I hear those words. After everything, this man still knows how to pull at my heart-strings.

When ‘White Chrismas’ is over, I put my attention back onto the cake. After I finish cutting it, I call James to get his plate. “Looks delicious, love.”, he presses a kiss onto my cheek. I smirk,”Not as delicious as you.” James nearly chokes on his spit as I say that. “What?”, he laughs, making my cheeks go red. “I said what I said, James.”, I walk past him to sit at the dining-room table. “O-okay.”, he sits across from me. He takes a bite, so I follow his action.

Aw, shoot.

I spit the ‘cake’ into my napkin, wondering what made it so bitter. I look across from me, and see James make the food go down his throat. “Amazing, y/n..”, he forces the words. “Don’t act like I didn’t screw the recipe up.”, I sigh, then realisation dawns over me. I stop James’ rambling about how good it turned out by deadpanning his name. “What is it, dear?”, he asks, reaching for my hand. “I did not use sugar… That.. is salt.”, I say, making James double-over in laughter. “What?”, he wheezes, making me join him.

It may have not been the best dessert of the year, but the memory was one of the best so far.

perm. tags: @blackeyedangel9805 @peasant-right-here @marshyrebelcloud

[skzsauce01]

WOW, Jisung

Description: Jisung’s crush discovers a past he would rather hide.

Warning: None

Word count: 1769

Pairings: Han Jisung x fem!reader

WOW, Bang Chan / WOW, Changbin

“Excuse me, Noona. Do you have a boyfriend?”

Jisung chokes on his water upon hearing those words escape from your normally sweet lips.

“W-what?” he stutters, still trying to recover from choking.

“What?” you return, feigning confusion.

“You just said something. What was it?”

“I didn’t say anything; I was just passing by.” You flutter your lashes at him innocently.

He wonders if you’re doing it on purpose-- if you know what effect it has on him.

“Oh, I just thought I heard something,” he mutters, turning away to hide his reddening features.

Sniffling a giggle, you leave the blonde to his imagination.

He heard it. He’s pretty sure he hears it this time, the unmistakable melody of your laughter and Hyunjin singing “wooooow” in an all-too exaggerated manner. He walks into the room to find you cleaning up after finishing his bandmate’s makeup. His heart pangs a little upon seeing you smiling at each other, but the feelings all wash away when you turn towards him with that same curve on your lips.

“Jisung-oppa! You’re just in time. Have a seat!”

“It’s makeup time, ‘Jisung-oppa,’” Hyunjin teases while pushing past the younger’s shoulder.

He sits down in the chair, fairly certain the two of you know something he doesn’t. The fact that you’re wearing a grey jacket doesn’t escape him.

“What were the two of you talking about?” he questions.

You dab foundation onto his squirrely cheeks. “There’s a new movie coming out next week. He wanted to watch it together.”

“Really? It sounded like he was singing something.”

“Singing what?”

Jisung’s voice gets caught in his throat. One, because he would be exposing himself if he told you the title and you actually don’t know about it, and two, because you were leaning a little too close to put on his liner.

“Just... something...” he manages. “Are you really going to the movies with him?”

You’re glad he’s closing his eyes so he can’t see you laughing. “I am. Do you want to come?”

“Yes!” he exclaims too readily. His eyelids pop open in eagerness and you nearly jab his eyeball with eye shadow.

“Really? It’s a horror.”

“O-oh...” He slumps back into the back of the chair. “T-that’s fine. I like horror movies. Yeah, let’s go.”

Jisung didn’t realize a movie outing consisted of not only you, him, and Hyunjin, but also a handful of staff and some other members. Of course it has to be like this; the group can’t handle a dating scandal quite yet.

Through a series of trades, the boy finally successfully got the ticket for the seat next to you. As he weaved through the aisle with a bucket of popcorn he hoped you guys could share, he spots you and Hyunjin wearing one ear of a earphone each and bobbing to some music as the two of you waited for the movie to start.

“What are you listening to?” he casually asks.

“3RACHA,” Hyunjin replies off-offhandedly.

“Oh, which song?”

The taller male mumbles something incoherent. Behind you, Jeongin reaches for Hyunjin’s phone and reads the title. The maknae breaks into a peal of laughter and whispers something into his leader’s ear.

“Ya! Hyunjin! What are you showing Y/N?” whines Chan.

“What is it? What are they listening to?” Jisung demands.

“Art.” “Ear poison.” “The best thing ever.” “Your demise.” 

Jisung glares at his members and is about to voice another complaint when a vampire jumps onto screen, effectively replacing his complaint with a scream. He feels you giving his shoulder a calming pat in the dark, and the boy looks down at his feet with burning embarrassment. Perhaps he shouldn’t have chosen this seat after all.

To get Hyunjin to spill the beans on what he’s been showing you, Jisung finally loops you and his bandmates into a game of “Truth or Dare” with Wasabi being the punishment for chickens who flake out on their turn.

After a series of hard-fought rock-paper-scissors, Jisung gets to go first.

“Hyunjin--”

The male in question takes a swig of wasabi paste, earning him a few boos and teases.

Jisung is fuming at this point. It’s already been two weeks since his suspicions arose, and he needs answers. He turns his focus on you, knowing you have a notoriously low tolerance for spice. However, it seems like he isn’t the only one who has you in focus.

“Y/N, truth or dare?” prompts Hyunjin.

“Truth.”

“Do you like someone? Like, like like.”

Jisung’s every sense heighten ten-fold.

You raise a brow at Hyunjin, knowing he already knows the answer. “Yes.”

A few ooh’s and ah’s fill the room. Jisung thought you stole a quick glance at him before answering, but he really isn’t sure about it this time.

After Felix put Changbin’s sock in his mouth, Chan confessed to stealing Felix’s sausage, Minho danced to “Barbie World,” and Jisung being forced to admit he isn’t actually as cool as he thinks, it’s finally the squirrel’s turn again.

“Y/N...” he begins feeling the name that he’s usually to shy to even think about roll smoothly off his tongue. “Truth or dare?”

You narrow your eyes at him, weighing your options. Jisung could feel your intense stare burning his skin and making him dizzy.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to... um...”

All the members already knew of his little fancy and begin laughing.

“Kiss me,” suggests Felix.

“Seven minutes in heaven,” adds Minho.

Play the song you and Hyunjin were listening to at the theater, he wants to say. It has been his original goal after all. But something even more pressing seems to want to escape him.

“H-hug,” he utters.

“Hug?” the room repeats his incomplete thought.

“Hug the person you like!” he blurts, squeezing his body into a tight fetal position and feeling his soul escape him.

He could see your face fall at the command. Chan leans over to your ear and whispers something.

“I know,” you reply. Then you whisper something else back to him.

Jisung’s heart begins racing after catching the first part of what you said. It increases to a rate where he’s sure he would die any minute when you stand and walk towards him. 

But you don’t make it to him. Your feet stop two meters short. Instead, you crouch in the middle of the circle the boys form and uncap the tube of wasabi. A tear streams from your face as the foreign substance touches your pallet. Chan pats you on the back when you return to your seat, and you bury your head in your hands, visibly more upset than what wasabi should have cause.

The game ends soon after that due to it being midnight. Jisung never got his answers but it doesn’t seem to matter now that all he cares about is why you’re so down, especially after that dare.

He clutches your wrist as you try to pile out of the room with the rest of the boys.

“Y/N.”

“What’s wrong, Jisung-oppa?” You turn to face him with a half-hearted smile.

He gathers his confidence and hardens his stance. “You’re the only one who knows.”

“The song?”

“No, I don’t care about that anymore. What I do care about is why you’re so upset.”

“Why?”

He decides to take the gamble. “You told Chan you know why.”

Bulls-eye. You falter under his gaze, refusing to meet it with your own.

“How about this: I’ll tell you the song and you leave me alone.”

He runs to the door to block it as you try walking away. “I can’t leave you alone, Y/N. I like you too much to do that.”

You stop dead on your tracks at his vocalized confession.

“But you have to!” you exclaim. “It’ll ruin your career otherwise!”

“Is this what it’s about? Me being an idol? That’s why you never said anything even though you’ve known I liked you all this time. Then what about you? Tell me how you feel about me.”

“I won’t. I can’t,” you huff. “I think that game we just played is answer enough.”

He takes your hand again and pulls you into a hug. “It was, and that’s why I can’t just let you go anymore.” He guides your hand around his waist. “Come on, complete your dare. We’ll make this work somehow.”

You sniffle into his chest, still hesitant.

Jisung sighs and begins rapping softly, letting the vibrations in his chest calm you.

“Excuse me, Y/N, but do you have a boyfriend? A-ah, sorry, that must have been too direct Those guys behind me called you pretty N-no, I'm just nervous, so I'm rambling on I'm still an 18-year-old high schooler Honestly, the last thing you want is stubbornness Although I might be a nuisance I've been thinking about this for a long time My friends are making fun of me Stop for a moment and focus on your gaze Your entire aura is shining I'll focus on expressing my inexperienced heart My sweat keeps flowing and I'm getting goosebumps One comment gives me eighth grade syndrome She must have noticed, at first I was confident This isn't a joke Time shows that you reaction is probably my love potion.” He’s glad to hear your soft chuckles at the end of his verses.

“I can’t believe you did that,” you murmur.

“Well, what do you say? Date me?”

“But the company...”

“We’ll keep it between these walls. I know I’ll be asking you to endure a lot for me, but we can make this work. I’ll make it work. For you, I can make anything work.”

You sigh, giving into your feelings and his charming sincerity. With a tight squeeze around his waist, you nod. “Okay.”

Jisung returns the gesture and buries his face into your hair. He releases a sigh of relief and feels all the anxiety he has built up over everything and anything being freed from him as he melts into your arms.

Fireworks go off. And by fireworks I mean eight overly loud boys. 

“Finally!” screams Changbin.

Seungmin is seen grumbling while handing Jeongin a few bucks after probably losing a bet.

“Screw secrecy, go public so I can stop being shipped with this guy,” Minho suggests.

“Were you guys listening this whole time?” Jisung gasps.

“Duh,” Chan replies. “I can’t believe you actually sung ‘WOW’ though, mate.”

“I thought that was the song you guys were feeding to her behind my back, so I found it fitting.”

You laugh at his blushing cheeks, red from embarrassment and regret, and press a quick peck onto it. “It really was ‘WOW.’” 

~ ad.gold

[petersvibes]

all i wanna do - peter parker

anonymous asked: so here i am, can you make imagine where peter and reader know each other and he likes her but he thinks she doesn't like him back because she never looks into his eyes while they're speaking and they never speak for long and stuff like that and he is sad about it so when he gives up on her he just argues about that with her and she confesses that she is scared of eye contact and afterwards it's fluff? ♥ thank you so much♥

description: when y/n looks into peter’s eyes, she happens to get a little nervous. 

song: all i wanna do - the beach boys

pairing: peter parker x fem!reader

warnings: bad puns

author’s note: this took me way too long lol. 

With relentless winter air biting at the exposed parts of their skin, Ned and Peter shuffle down the street and towards Peter’s building, the excitement from their third viewing of the latest Star Wars movie fresh on their minds. The handmade hats May made them during her knitting phase sit snug atop their heads, the unevenly braided tassels blowing in their faces. 

While his best friend talks his ear off about his personal fan theories, Peter’s thoughts are centered around the only thing that has occupied them for the past few months; you. On a regular night, he would be thinking about your immeasurable kindness, or your wit, or the way you kind of skip down the hallways when you get a good grade in chemistry. Today, its how you seem to avoid him like the plague, the only conversations you have short and empty. He would give anything to live in those tiny moments where you laugh at his jokes and bring him snacks from your dad’s restaurant. Even though those moments are rare and he hates the fact, he likes you. He really, really likes you.

After minutes of limited response from his friend, Ned elbows his side, snapping Peter out of his daze of embarrassment. “You should just give it up.” Ned comments. Peter groans, crossing his arms over his chest dramatically and letting out a huff.

"But it's (Y/N)," Peter upturns his bright red nose, playing with the loose threads of his gloves. "She's... she..."

"She clearly doesn't like you?" Ned offers, a coy smirk playing on his lips. Peter is quick to slap him upside the head, satisfied when he hears him groan in pain. 

“(Y/N),” Peter repeats, challenging Ned to interrupt him again, “Is the most beautiful, sweet, lovely girl I’ve ever met,” His mind flashes back to your encounter earlier this evening, how you avoided his eyes vehemently and expressed little to no interest in his feeble attempts at flirting with you. His heart sinks to the bottom of his chest, dread filling the space in his brain previously occupied with fantasies of what it would be like if maybe, just maybe, you felt even half of the same feelings for him as he did for you. Peter sighs. "And she clearly doesn't like me." 

Peter’s exhausted walking into the chemistry lab, his feet heavily dragging the weight of a long, stressful day. His mind is everywhere at once; from his superhero duties to May’s cold to the outcome of his English test tomorrow. He flops down onto his chair, immediately resting his head in his hands as the sound of his shuffling classmates becomes far away. When Ned sits down next to him. he knows his best friend is having a bad day, but he nudges him anyway.

“We have a lab today dude.” Ned says, keeping his voice low. Peter looks up, peering at Ned through hazy eyes that scream desperately for a nap. As soon as he says it, their teacher commands the class to make their way towards the lab stations, reiterating the procedure as Peter follows haphazardly. He trudges towards the stock of lab coats, his head hanging low as he rubs at his eyes with Sensing someone behind him, he quickly turns around, his defensive shattered completely when he sees your face, complete with a reserved smile and wandering eyes that float between his wide eyes and the tiled floor beneath your shuffling feet. 

“Hi uhm, Peter?” You timidly ask, fiddling with the elastic of your goggles. He raises his eyebrows, feeling streams of life quickly fill back into him as you speak. “We’re lab partners today.” 

For Peter, it’s like the skies have parted and a higher power has granted him a gift. He forces himself to contain his grin, concerned with freaking you out if he indicates just how joyous he feels.

“I already set up over there so whenever you’re ready.” You gesture towards the corner of the room, noting once before you shuffle away, leaving Peter breathless behind you. He takes a deep breath as he quickly adjusts his hair, cursing himself for not picking a better sweater in his haste to leave his apartment this morning. He walks towards you languidly, glancing at Ned who gives him the thumbs up, but you’re in no way watching him. Instead, while he slides into the seat next to you, you’ve devoted the entirety of your attention to your notebook. 

He watches you with a dreamlike expression as you narrate the steps of your procedure. Despite the safety precautions articulated to him on multiple occasions, his chin rests in his palm as he watches your lips, nodding when you peek at him for reassurance. He does his part, he really does, but your focused expression is swoon worthy so lets you take the lead, following your timid orders. To him, however, you do not appear to share the same sentiment as you work in relative silence, your expression hard and focused solely on the substances bubbling in the glassware in front of you. He feels twinges of disappointment when his attempts to speak to you are met with one-word responses, but being around you is enough to keep the butterflies fluttering in his chest.  

Suddenly, an idea pops into Peter’s head after the two of you have been taking data for a bit over twenty minutes, the wonders of high school chemistry not enough to stimulate him. He nudges your shoulder with the eraser side of his pencil, and you hum in response. “What do you do with a dead scientist?”

“What?”

“It went okay.” He shrugs jokingly, cheering internally as he notices a sliver of one of your gentle smiles start to appear. “Why can you never trust atoms?” 

“Because they make up everything?” You shake your head, balancing the glassware in your gloved hands as you stifle a laugh. 

Peter blushes, shrugging again, only this time he makes a face. “Yeah but... everybody knows that one.” 

“Okay,” You say, catching a glimpse of his amused expression out of the corner of your eye, “Then why did the noble gas cry?” You ask. More giddily than he intended, Peter asks why, his beam never departing from his cheeks. “Because all its friends Argon.” You say matter-of-factly. Though the joke is nowhere near funny, he laughs anyway, too caught up in how pretty you are when you grin to care. 

“I will admit it; that was a good one.” Peter laughs, waggling his finger at you. “Well played.” 

You hum in response, and just like that it’s like you deflate right in front of him, your body stiffening again as the warmth you showed him deflates from your body. You work in silence for a while, Peter watching you pipet the last of your saline solution into a beaker. He isn’t careful not to focus too intently on the adorable way your face twists when you concentrate when he clears his throat. He’s careful not to focus too intently on the adorable way your face twists when you concentrate, or how when your hair falls out of its up do you impulsively push it out of the way, because if he focused on that or any other one of your lovely quirks he’d be glued to his chair, staring at you forever. 

"Have you started studying for the test?” Peter inquires, trying to appear casual as he scribbles something into his notebook. 

You nod, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye as you gently shake the now color changing fluid in your beaker. “I’m not so good on the empirical formulas but I think I’ll be fine.” You shrug, adding a measurement to your list 

“I could help you if you want. Maybe tonight?” Peter offers, watching as your downcast eyes widen. Suddenly, your throat feels completely dry, as if you hadn’t joked around with him one a few minutes before. 

“I think I’ll be okay.” You force out, your gritted teeth stuttering your words. Your grip on the pencil in your hand tightens and you swear under your breath when you realize you’ve been writing the same thing over and over again in an effort to focus your attention away from him. "I have to work tonight anyway.” Your voice is quiet, but you sound way more clipped than you intended.

“Maybe some other time?” He suggests, his eyes hopeful. 

“Yeah sure, Peter. But I should go.” You say, glancing up at his now stricken face for only a moment before you collect yourself and shuffle out of the classroom. 

“You know, I’ve heard that story five times even though it happened six hours ago but it seems to get more depressing every time.” Ned taunts. Peter grumbles something rude that Ned ignores, his smug smile never leaving his face. “You wanna stop for some sympathy snacks?” Ned gestures to the bright café sign only a couple feet away. Peter nods, following him in. 

“I know I’m pathetically into (Y/N) and all but I really feel like if we just- OW!” Peter exclaims, rubbing the already fading pain in his ribcage. He looks incredulously at Ned, whose eyes are wide with warning as they dart between him and the sight in front of you. Following his eye-line, Peter crosses his arms over his chest, “Ned what the he-”

Peter’s heart stops dead in his chest when he sees it, the words leaving his mouth as soon as he does. You are weaving your way through at the random assortment of mismatched furniture with the most effortless smile on your face. You brush past your coworkers with exuberance and light, balancing cups and sandwiches and cookies with ease. You’re even going to far as to dance to the quiet music playing in the background. Your striped apron accentuates your curves and the warm light illuminates your features; and in Peter’s eyes, you’re heavenly. He’s never seen you this way and he adores it in every way imaginable. you’re taking his breath away and you don’t even know it. 

Ned drags his friend by the arm, physically having to place him at a table as he sits his opposite. He doesn’t bother to strike up any form of conversation with Peter, because he is, quite outwardly, gazing at you with sparkly, lovestruck eyes. Taking no notice to them, you flip through your notepad as you walk towards their table, automatically giving them your best customer pleasing smile. 

"Hi I'm (Y/N), what can I get-" Your eyes widen as you find yourself staring into Peter's eyes. Feeling your hands clam up, you almost drop your pencil on their table. Peter watches worriedly as your entire demeanor shifts from that tender relaxation to frigid distress. 

"(Y/N)! I didn't know you worked here." Peter says, not inconspicuous in the slightest. His shoulders are slouching for what feels like the millionth time, and you break the brief eye contact you shared, choosing to look at Ned's welcoming face instead. 

"I... uh..." You're blushing furiously and playing with your messy hair, looking desperately at your blank notepad for help. "Y-Yeah. It's my dad's place and I um.” You awkwardly smile, gesticulating between the kitchen and the two of them, “Well what can I get you?" 

Ned grants you the relief you're desperate for when he asks for hot chocolates, giving you time to run back to the counter and hide behind the coffee machine. Unbeknownst to the two boys, the reason you take so long to come back is because your hands were shaking so bad that you spilled Ned’s mug twice. You come back almost ten minutes later, maneuvering your way through the bustle of the late evening rush and placing your tray on their table. 

“Two hot chocolates and one scone because I know how much you like them.” You say, winking at Ned who bashfully grins, gesturing at you to stop. Peter watches, awestruck as your completely normal friendship with Ned unfolds right before his eyes, where the layers of your sometimes harsh exterior have peeled away and you, perfect, lovely, beautiful you, is out in the open. 

“We’re going to be closing in about an hour but if you need anything I’ll be around.” You say. The boys nod at you and you rush back to the counter, hiding behind the pastry rack on one of the stools. Your coworkers and friends give you exasperated looks that beg for you to just tell him, but you shoo them away. Leaning your chin in your palm with a doe-eyed expression, you watch Peter from afar, admiring everything about him from the way his mouth moves when he speaks to how the light in the café bounces off his freckled nose. How he does it is a complete mystery and how you put up with it is even more so. All you know is, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to shake him. 

You have to beg one of your coworkers to take their table, and after promising to work her shift on Friday, she agrees, giving you an empathetic look through her more mature eyes. You’re working the register for the duration of your shift, but eventually, when you look up he and Ned have disappeared, and if it weren’t for your shaky hands, you would've hoped you imagined the painfully awkward encounter. Sighing, you walk back out to the main seating, clearing up tables and bidding farewell to the last of your customers. 

Outside, Peter is dragging his feet against the pavement, his face contorted into a deep set frown. “She never came back.” He reiterates, unaware of Ned’s growing annoyance. He kicks the snow caked at his feet, glancing gloomily back at the restaurant as he does so. “I should’ve gone up to the register Ned. I should’ve just-”

Ned stops abruptly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Look dude. Do you like her?” He asks, clapping his hands together. Despite how much he loves Peter like a brother, he finds him so clueless at times it’s painful. 

“Of course I do.” Peter replies, his face twitching with confusion. “You know I do.” 

Ned’s expression is deadpanned as he looks at his best friend, rolling his eyes as he speaks. “Then go.” He says, gesturing towards the restaurant. “If you like her so much then tell her you idiot.” 

Peter’s brushes off the insult in Ned’s voice as he chews his lip. nodding to repeatedly to himself. “I’m gonna do it.” He affirms, puffing out his chest. He repeats the phrase excitedly, grinning at Ned who practically feels obligated to get just as excited. Ned pats on his shoulder, giving him a tight lipped smile before he gently shoves him in the direction of the door.

“Go get him tiger!” He calls, raising his eyebrows as he waves him good luck. 

“I’m gonna do it!” Peter cheers, his eyes crinkling from the size of his grin. For the moment, he’s locked all reservations  away in a tight box in his mind, choosing instead to think of a scenario where you tell him you like him just as much, where he can kiss you and touch you and finally get to look into your eyes when he does so. He grabs Ned by the shoulders and beams, shaking him lightly before he sprints away, leaving his friend standing proud on the sidewalk. 

“Guy in the chair.” Ned says to himself, chuckling under his breath. “I am so the guy in the chair.”

Peter’s shuffles back into your tiny café, the sound of wind chimes beckoning your attention. You glance up from your place cleaning glasses, and immediately look back down, alarm bells going off in your head. You can’t control the tenseness that erupts in your body, but you’re struggling to balance your boiling adoration upon recognizing Peter, and his stupid maroon hat that adorably sits on the mop of curls that lay flat on his forehead. You can see him approaching you out of the corner of your eye, and you can feel your face getting hot upon the realization that this time, Ned isn’t trailing behind him. He’s walking earnestly, his shoulders slumped and his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket.

“Peter! Hi! Did you leave something?" You ask, placing one of the now clean glasses on the rack. Peter simply shakes his head, smiling at you gently.

“No, I just came to...” He trails off, glancing behind you at the hot chocolate special featured on the menu behind you. “Pick up some hot chocolate for my Aunt!” He says, cracking a smile. “She has a cold and she says you guys have the best in Queens.” Your flush intensifies at the compliment as you nod. 

“We’re about to close but I can make you some?” You offer, watching as his grin changes from its cheekiness to joy as he accepts it. “Just take a seat at the counter. It’ll take one second.” You instruct, gesturing towards one of the seats. Unsure of where the bit of confidence has stemmed from, you happily make the cocoa, paying special attention to the finer details. 

“Thanks (Y/N).” Peter says, warmth in his voice. You turn your back to him, following the steps you know all too well as he starts to speak behind you. “Look I...” He plays with his fingers, taking a deep breath, “I know you had to work today and all but if you ever want to hang out I would love to. And I can conjure up some more interesting jokes if you want.” He awkwardly chuckles, looking up at you nervously. 

You open your mouth to say something, but no words escape from your throat. Your whole body freezes around the large paper cup, As much as you didn’t want to, when you turn around your face is stricken, devoid of all color and every emotion except for what appears to be complete abhorrence. 

You silently nod, the only sound reverberating through the room being the airy sound of the whipped cream canister. 

Peter sighs, shaking his head to himself at he glances heavenward. “Forget the drink. I’m just gonna go.” He says. Peter’s out of his chair and gesturing towards the door. He looks towards you in the split second that you stop yourself from saying something, slouching further when you decide against it. Shaking his head, he’s halfway towards the door when you let out a noise, somewhere between a groan and a cry,  but nevertheless, it was an act of surrender.

“Peter, wait.” You call, setting the hot chocolate down on a nearby table. He turns around with a grimace on his face and what appears to be glistening eyes. It feels like all the air has been taken out of your lungs when you see him look so disappointed, shaking his head at you. 

“What?” 

“Just,” You look at your shuffling feet, leaving your arms crossed behind your back. “Don’t go.” You tell him, your voice almost completely inaudible. 

After a second of silence, Peter clears his throat, his voice cracking. “Look (Y/N),” He pauses, crossing his arms over his chest and exchanging his weight between his feet. “I like you, I really do. But if you don’t want this,” He gestures between the two of you, making your breath hitch, “I won’t chase you anymore."

“It freaks me out okay!” You exclaim, watching a confused expression overtake Peter’s features. You look at me and your eyes are perfect and it makes me feel all flushy and weird and I like you so much that I hate you for it!” It takes you only a second to realize what you said and cover your mouth immediately, your eyes wide but bearing straight into his. 

He blinks twice, closing his hung open mouth. “What?”

“I like you.” You mumble under your breath. Peter’s enhancements allowed him to hear what you said perfectly, a grin slowly spreading across his face.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he steps towards you, offering his hand. “I don’t think I got that.” Peter pulls you by the hand, interlocking your fingers and pressing them to his chest. “One more time?”

“I like you okay?” You huff, your words slightly more audible. Feeling embarrassed, you hang your head, your stomach flipping upside down. A few inches away from you, Peter frowns only slightly as he shakes his head.

"Don't you dare," Peter starts, tenderly brushing the loose hair from your face and exposing your eyes. You feel his first two fingers under the tip of your chin, gently guiding your head up so that you have no choice but to look him in the eyes. At the time, you didn't realize it, but you definitely let out a little gasp, because yes, from afar, Peter's cute; he's soft and strong and so many things you could never describe. But from up close, he's easily the most beautiful person you've ever seen. When you look at him, you're in awe at the purse of his lips, and the freckles splayed across his nose and cheeks. It's his eyes that capture you the quickest. They're pools of sparkling browns that melt into yours, so bright and calming that you're cursing yourself for avoiding them for so long. "You are going to look at me so I can see just how pretty you are." He searches your eyes like they’re unexplored maps, their serene color lulling him. “It’s kind of hard when you’re looking down all the time.”

“Stop..." You mumble, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "You're embarrassing me." 

"Am I making you all flushy?" Peter teases, wiggling his eyebrows, with a grin spread wide across his freckly cheeks. 

Reluctantly, you nod, overjoyed when you see his smile widen and chuckles escape past his lips. "Will you stop making the stupid chemistry puns now?" You ask, quirking your brow. Peter rolls his eyes, his smile never fading as he looks at you, and you’re looking right back, your eyes glistening with his affection. 

“Are you made of Fluorine, Iodine, and Neon?”

"Oh god.”

[aboylikethat]

LET’S TALK ABOUT MUSIC. it plays a prominent role in sebastian’s life, and, at times, his ability to communicate himself. while he clearly has no problem using his words, when it comes to explaining himself and his feelings, he tends to fall short. and so, he turns to music.

i’m very deliberate in choosing music for each of my muses, and sebastian is one that requires close attention to the different layers he possesses. i put together a specific playlist for him, and i wanted to talk about some of the songs and how they apply to him. i’ll put this under a read more because i don’t want to spam everyone’s dashes, but i hope you take the time to read through this!!

I. EROS AND APOLLO - STUDIO KILLERS

❛ but every night they fall like dominoes / how he does it, nobody knows / all the other men turn gay wherever he goes - wow!! ❜  

this song, first of all, contains my favorite phrase when describing sebastian ; a boy like that. but besides that, this song is describing a boy ( or man, if you prefer ) that’s beautiful and hypnotizing — but he’ll destroy you. it’s serious, it’s dangerous, you need to be warned away, but his lips are as sweet as sugar and he’s INTOXICATING. he’s wonderful and awful at the same time. we see that with sebastian in his first five minutes on the show.

immediately, in some way, he has blaine caught on his hook. he’s charming and intriguing and, at least temporarily, he’s able to lure him in and convince him that he’s so great, and, better yet, HARMLESS. though kurt isn’t so easily convinced, it’s a talent sebastian has. when he wants to be, he’s charismatic. he’ll kiss you with lips coated in honey and arsenic — more often than not, you won’t know about the poison in his smile until it’s too late. sebastian knows how to make himself DESIRABLE and creep into the hearts and minds of those he’s set his sights on. and then. . .he destroys them ( it’s only intentional ninety percent of the time ). once you’ve been hit by him, you want to keep everyone away by him. he’s only good to be a POISON in your system. . .right??

II. HOMEWRECKER - MARINA AND THE DIAMONDS

❛ the good are never easy, the easy never good / and loving never happens like you think it really should / deception and perfection are wonderful traits / one will breed love, the other hate. ❜

another lovely song that i love comparing to sebastian. i want to talk sometime about the ELECTRA HEART concept and how it relates to sebastian, but that’s something for another time. homewrecker is, very obviously, about breaking hearts and destroying relationships. being pretty and perfect is all good and well, and it’ll get you going, but that’s not enough to sustain something that matters. you’ll make them hate you eventually. breaking hearts is just a fun game to pass the time . . . even if, beneath the surface, you want something else.

❛ but deep down all you want is love / the pure kind we all dream of / but we cannot escape the past / so you and i will never last. ❜

though getting him to admit it is about as easy as pulling teeth in your kitchen, sebastian, at heart, wants something real that he can hold onto, but, being raised in the world of DYSFUNCTIONAL relationships, it isn’t something that seems realistic or even mildly attainable. it’s BORING, for another thing. there’s more of a thrill in bringing them in only to toss them away and finding someone new to play with. staying with one person too long can end with them peeling away your mask and seeing who you truly are, and that will only leads to disaster. sebastian was born into a world of superficial people with plastic smiles and lies spilling from their lips. getting something of SUBSTANCE is unrealistic ; no one wants the truth behind his smirk, the ugly parts are more prominent than the soft parts, and those don’t matter anyway. might as well have fun with what he can get.

III. FUCK WITH MYSELF - BANKS

❛ you’re on the corner waiting for my love / i put two walls behind you just to lean on / you’re gonna need ‘em ‘cause i stood you up / ‘cause i fuck with myself more than anyone else. ❜   

who cares what anyone else has to say or what they think?? what matters is not only surviving, but enjoying it. the interpretation i’m using for this song is more about sebastian’s attitude towards his mother as opposed to that of an ex lover. his mother, who shaped him to be something nice to look at, to have no value other than what she wanted him to be.

he doesn’t care about her anymore. she can have expectations all she wants, he’ll only do what HE wants and what will make HIM happy. he puts himself before everyone. his mother might want him to be an accessory, but he’s going to be MORE than that. this song, of course, has different meaning behind it, but i still connect it very strongly with his feelings toward her. sebastian used to hold her in such high esteem and take what she said so seriously. . .now, he couldn’t care less.

IV. OH NO! - MARINA AND THE DIAMONDS

❛ i know exactly what i want and who i want to be / i know exactly why i walk and talk like a machine / i’m now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy. ❜

admittedly, the lyrics in this song are a bit repetitive, but it’s always resonated strongly with me in terms of sebastian. he KNOWS he wants to be the best, break free of the mold his lifestyle has tried to set him in. he’ll do it regardless of what anyone else thinks. he’s going to be successful, he’s going to do everything he wants to. if that means tearing people apart, by all means. he’s not here to play nice and be a pathway for other people to reach their dreams — he’s too busy climbing to the top. 

even if he himself knows that what he’s doing is too harsh, that he’s not as great as he’s trying to make himself out to be — who cares?? he can’t go back now, so he has to make the most of what he has and what he can get.

V. WOLF IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING - SET IT OFF

❛ tell me how you’re sleeping easy / how you’re only thinking of yourself / show me how you justify telling all your lies like a second nature. ❜

he’s fake, he’s only honest when he can use it as a weapon, and he acts like he’s F I N E with it. he’ll tear you apart with a smile on his face, say the most awful things and lace them between almost HILARIOUSLY specific phrases and references, and it’s as if he has no concept of how cruel he is.

how do you possibly live with yourself?? how do you rest easy, knowing that you’ve destroyed someone and broken their hearts??

simple answer: he doesn’t. you’ll just never know how deeply it affects him.

[kaiserin-erzsebet]

A/N: After the last fic I posted, @egozentrischer-heiliger asked if I had anything else about Germany after the third Reich. I completely forgot that I had this story sitting around. It’s rather old and rather dramatic, but hopefully it’s still enjoyable. It’s about Germany dealing with the destruction left in the wake of the war and the loss of his brother.

The day was grey and foggy, as though the sky had held onto the smoke of thousands of guns long after the battle was finished. Every cloud held itself in the same perpetual position. The sun hid away, taking its warmth with it. Germany walked through the streets, trying not to think about anything but where he was going. But, his thoughts couldn't help but wander.

He saw the buildings that he passed and remembered the glory. This had once been a beautiful city, now no piece of masonry was free of pockmarks. Russian bullets had lodged themselves deep in the marble and sandstone. But it was far worse to see a pile of rubble and remember the building it used to be. The space left where it once stood was like a ghost, open air still full of substance. Germany sighed to himself and continued walking.

He knew this was his fault, he had chosen the war without knowing what devastation would come from it. He continued walking, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of the coat he was wearing. Thoughts about the war were still beating themselves bloody against the inside of his head. He clenched his fists in his pockets, feeling the pain of his nails digging into his own palms. He didn't want to feel, didn't want to regret, but the actions he was taking at this very moment showed that he still felt deeply guilty. His feet carried him down the familiar route.

He passed the stains on the street where impromptu tank traps had been set up. The scars of war were still so fresh, but the physical damage wasn't the worst. The worst was yet to come at the end of this fool's trip that Germany took every day. He knew he shouldn't still be doing this, but the pain was too fresh even after these few months had passed.

He continued walking, avoiding the places where the sidewalk had been destroyed by the shells of tanks, or simply crushed beneath the weight of the metal beasts. It seemed an eternity ago that these streets had echoed with enthusiastic cheers, that these building fronts had redoubled the words of songs. Red banners had flown, triumphant, from every building and flagpole. Now, there was nothing but ash clinging to what little was left. But, when he closed his eyes, Germany could still hear the faint echo of goose-stepping feet.

Germany stopped and looked directly into the street, remembering the spectacle that had been here. He had been so naïve to be swept away by crazed nationalism. It had been so good to hear his name raised on so many voices. He had felt so sure of himself. Now, it brought a bitter taste to his mouth to even think about the hollow words, the empty promises. He hadn't seen the clear warnings then, but the hindsight was so clear. His brother had seen, had known. That had been why Gilbert had been drinking so heavily, especially once the Eastern front had broken open. Germany couldn't help but think that his brother had known that this war would end in ruin.

His eyes began to burn in a way that had become all too familiar; the strange heat always came with tears. He reached up with one gloved hand and checked for any stray drops of moisture that threatened to escape down his cheeks and give away his emotions. He wanted to ask his brother about the war, whether he had seen the inevitable defeat. Just a few months ago that would have been possible. Before the judgment, before their separate fates had been decided. As the emotions uncoiled themselves from where they had been momentarily hiding, Germany clenched his hands back into fists and forced them back into his pockets. He wasn't going to cry, it wasn't behavior fit for a fully-fledged country.

His eyes still smarting more than he wanted them to be, he started walking again. His gate felt unsteady, certainly not the confident steps that he had had before the war. He stepped to the side as a woman in a tattered green coat hurried past him, her hat pulled low over her eyes. A blonde boy in pants that were a couple inches too short clung to her hand. As they passed, Germany heard the boy ask, his voice full of the innocence of youth, "When is Vati coming home?" His mother responded bitterly, "Never. He went to Russia and isn't coming back."

Germany winced when he heard the bitterness in her voice. She wasn't the only mother who had been left without a husband. The boy was one of many left without a father. Germany knew it and knew that it was his fault; his war had sent so many men to their death. His war had left so many people alone, left him alone. Prussia, the closest thing he had to a father, was gone. Germany became aware that he had stopped again and was pulling in shaky breaths. The cold air stung his lungs.

Germany looked around for a distraction, any distraction. But he still saw the ruins of a once proud city. It hadn't been Germany's city; his brother had left it to him. The all too familiar feeling of shame returned. Everything Prussia had built was in ruins now. It was not honest to blame the allies or their bombs. All Germany had wanted was to be able to make his brother proud. How had it gone so terribly wrong?

He glanced across the street at a man whose face had been aged past its years by far. In one hand he held a bottle of unidentified alcohol; in the other he held a wooden crutch. The man's right leg only extended to the knee, the rest had been likely been lost to a shell or an infection. This sight too was all too common. Redoubling his determination, Germany started walking again.

He was almost to his destination, only a few more meters to go. He turned at a particularly pockmarked building and he saw it. The arch loomed large on the horizon, still standing even after the bombs had fallen. The pale masonry was stained with the black residue of battle, but it still stood as a monument to Germany's failure. The Brandenburg gate, the symbol of his brother's power. Germany's mistake had corrupted even that. The swastika was still barely visible in the ruined hand of Nike.

He stopped walking, this time intentionally. This was as far as he was allowed to go, the rest of the city now belonged to Russia. This was the spot Germany had chosen to mourn his mistake. The cold wind picked up as the thoughts finally engulfed him. Looking back less than a decade, he felt alien to himself. A boy still trying to fit in his brother's boots. He should have talked to Prussia, should have asked his brother's opinion. Instead, he had forced his brother into a long Eastern war. Even when Prussia had emphatically told him not to betray the Soviet Union, he hadn't listened. If only his brother could appear just on the other side of the line so Germany could apologize.

He pulled in a shaky breath that sounded too much like sob. He looked back down, again attempting to find distraction. His attention was caught by a pair of Soviet soldiers on the other side of the gate. They appeared to be having a casual conversation, but the sight still made Germany viscerally angry. Those men had done so much damage, but all of that paled in comparison to stealing away half the country. Every muscle in his body wanted to take the steps forward, if only to do whatever damage he could to the Soviet soldiers. But if he crossed this line, he would be putting himself in danger.

Instead, he turned and walked parallel to the dividing line. With his emotions coming up hot and volatile in his throat, it was impossible to differentiate one from the other. The rage at Russia mixed with his own shame and became thoroughly painful. Restlessly, he turned and walked back in the direction he had come from, but along a different street. This was a foolish walk; it was completely idiotic to believe that staring at the Brandenburg gate would give him a chance to see his brother again. And yet, every day he did this.

Germany walked even faster, enraged at his own lack of control. A small brown ball bumped against his foot, breaking the vicious cycle of thoughts whipping through his brain. He stopped and kneeled down to pick up the ball. It was rough in his hand, but there was something sweet about it. Even in this slate grey world, there were still children's toys. He looked around for the source and noticed a boy with short black hair sitting on the stoop of a bombed out building. One of his thin hands was extended out in Germany's direction. He said pleadingly, "Bitte."

Germany smiled and walked over to the boy and kneeled down. He extended the ball to the boy, who eagerly took it in both hands. His toothy grin had a certain charm to it. Germany couldn't help but return the smile. It felt like the first time he had smiled in several years, the muscles in his face felt strangely stiff. The child said, "Danke!" Germany felt his regrets float to the back of his mind. It couldn't all be terrible with this kind of enthusiasm in it. Germany stood back up and said, "Naturlich. What is your name?"

The child was about to respond when the sharp sound of running footsteps from inside the building. A frail looking woman rushed forward and scooped the boy into her arms and stepped away protectively. Her eyes were wild, but when they fixed on Germany they filled with hate. However, his eyes were drawn away from her face to the yellow Star of David still stitched on her coat.

All the blood drained from Germany's face as the realization hit him. His worst mistake was staring at him in the guise of a child. The woman had every right to stare at him with such utter contempt. If she knew who he really was, her hatred would be all the more intense, and all the more justified.

Germany walked away quickly, trying to escape his emotions. He had been responsible for all those deaths, but he wasn't paying for them. Excluding the Nuremburg trials, there had been very little punishment. But, the thought tormented him that the same was not true for his brother. Prussia, who had counseled him not to invade the Soviet union, not to let the Final solution go into such full scale effect, was now in the hands of Russia who was undoubtedly extracting penance in blood.

Overcome again, Germany turned down an alley to have a moment to himself. Tears rolled freely down his face as the most painful thought swelled in the forefront of his mind: His brother had martyred himself for a cause he had never believed in. Germany didn't deserve that kind of love, not after what he had done. Why had his brother been so noble? The last words Gilbert had said to him came back to him, "Be strong, Ludwig."

He sobbed to himself, responding to the man who no was no longer close enough to hear, "I can't, Gil." As he admitted it to himself, it became overwhelming. Even in this last request, he couldn't do what his brother told him. He wanted to be strong, but the reminders all around broke him down. His voice breaking again, he repeated, "I can't. Forgive me, Bruder."

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 10th February 2019

Nothing happened, at all.

Top 10

For its third week, Ariana Grande is at the top spot of the UK Singles Chart with her single “7 rings”, from the recently released thank u, next album – which I personally think was pretty mediocre. Regardless, I don’t see this going anywhere, especially since nothing happened.

“Sweet but Psycho” is staying still, with Ava Max’s song still at number-two.

Similarly at number-three, “Dancing with a Stranger” by Sam Smith and Normani doesn’t move from last week.

Neither does Calvin Harris’ and Rag ‘n’ Bone Man’s “Giant” for that matter at number-four.

Finally, some movement – up two spots is Mabel’s “Don’t Call Me Up”, at number-five.

This means “Wow.” by Post Malone is down a spot to number-six.

Now, our first new arrival, as Billie Eilish debuts at number-seven with “bury a friend”, becoming her first top 10 hit in the UK, and her second Top 40. We’ll talk more about it later, but I’m impressed by how she’s been able to debut this high; definitely shows that new album will do big numbers.

“Nothing Breaks Like a Heart” by Mark Ronson and Miley Cyrus falls down two spaces to number-eight.

At number-nine, up a spot from last week is Lewis Capaldi’s “Someone You Loved”

Also down two spaces is Post Malone and Swae Lee’s Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse soundtrack cut, “Sunflower”, now at #10, slowly making its way off the charts.

FEATURED SINGLE: “Kids Turned Out Fine” – A$AP Rocky

Now, to interrupt your regularly scheduled programming is Featured Single, the segment where we look at a great song that is getting a single push of some kind but isn’t charting and spread some light on it briefly. Now this song in particular just got a really high-budget music video that combined some of its elements with Rocky’s other song “Changes”, which is all flashy but otherwise kind of unremarkable – but the song itself is great. There’s a catchy, psychedelic guitar sample that starts it all off, showered by scattered vocal samples and seemingly field recordings of playgrounds, before it switches to a slick trap beat that Rocky croons over, before everything slowly gets pitched down and slowed down as he mentions the drugs on his mind as a teenager, who is curious about venturing into substance use without caring about the consequences, and man, does it feel like it. This is psychedelic and confusing, once Rocky starts spitting and the bass actually appears, it just kind of explodes with only distorted guitar to accompany it, before a couple random “Yeah! Yeah!” ad-libs that cut it back to the beat as it was, and the verse continues normally as if nothing happened. Yeah, the album this is from, TESTING, is kind of like that, all of the time. Some of my favourite songs are trippy, chaotic messes, with moments like that random Diddy skit on “Tony Tone” about how he said something while her kids were listening that was vulgar, I suppose, that just cuts the song entirely and the transitions aren’t smooth, it’s just a miniscule interlude that takes place for no reason other than experimentation, and honestly despite lacking substance (Ironically), I love this song (Even though it is just vibe and nothing else, really) and how smooth it is in its controlled chaos, definitely one of the calmer moments on TESTING, but I can never see it being a hit, ever, despite how nothing happened. I think “Brotha Man” with French Montana, Snoop Dogg and Frank Ocean could have a better chance, perhaps “OG Beeper” with BlocBoy JB at a stretch. So let’s just get to the Climbers, Fallers and such.

Climbers

Did I mention nothing happened? This week was so dry and slow that Pinkfong rebounded with “Baby Shark”, up another five spaces to #19. That’s sad. It is alongside Kehlani and Ty Dolla $ign though, as “Nights Like This” is up 10 spaces from last week to #30, which is good because this is a pretty great song from two great artists, one of which I’m pretty sure is also serving 15 years in prison for cocaine possession. Yeah, okay, let’s get to the fallers.

Fallers

Now there’s a couple more here, to an extent. As expected, J. Cole’s “MIDDLE CHILD” is down five spaces to #14 – without a music video I don’t think this is a great lead single, sorry, Cole, I am excited for your next album but this song’s pretty boring. “Lost in the Fire” by Gesaffelstein and the Weeknd is down five spaces to #24, next to former #1 “thank u, next” by Ariana Grande down six spaces to #28 (This will rebound though, the album’s out now), while “18HUNNA” by Headie One and Dave is down nine spaces to #32. That’s it, though.

Dropouts

“Baby” by Clean Bandit, Marina and Luis Fonsi is out from #29 (That’s been kind of a flop overall, I’m just surprised it lasted this long), while other than that, we have “Comfortable” by Yungen and Dappy out from #32, “Think About Us” by Little Mix featuring Ty Dolla $ign out from #34 and 15 years in prison for cocaine possession, “Psych Out!” by AJ Tracey out from #36 (I guess the album didn’t do all too well?), “Mo Bamba” by Sheck Wes out from #37, and surprisingly due to recent circumstances, “Advice” by Cadet and Deno Driz out from #39. Rest in peace to Cadet – tragic he died so young in a car accident, and just in his prime time to release more material, sucks that his life was cut short at this point in time, and we only have limited music from the guy, he was only 25. On a lighter note:

Returning Entries

Actually, this isn’t a lighter note at all, this song sucks. “Grace” by Lewis Capaldi is back at #40 (Who cares?). Maybe the new arrivals will be better, there’s four of them so there’s got to be something good there.

NEW ARRIVALS

#39 – “i’m so tired...” – LAUV and Troye Sivan

So, uh, LAUV’s back with another song, huh? I thought he’d end up a complete one-hit wonder but I suppose he’s attempting that second hit, and you know what, I’m not complaining, I loved his last one (More on that when I post my best list; it’s concerningly high). Troye Sivan is okay, I guess, none of his stuff except perhaps “My My My!” has really grown on me all too much though. Sigh, what do these boring pop dudes have to say? That they’re sick of love songs? That all these fairy tales are full of it? That if they hear one more stupid love song, they’ll be sick? That they’re at a payphone trying to call home? Yeah, alright, enough playing around. This is LAUV’s first ever Top 40 hit in the UK (Congratulations) and Troye Sivan’s fourth, and is it good? Well, I can agree with the title’s message on the surface, I guess. Not that I’m tired of love songs, I’m just tired. The song itself? I mean, it is generic, but it’s quicker-paced than his last hit, and it seems to have some more energy, but that guitar strumming just kind of gets on my nerves, same with that mind-numbingly repetitive hook. There is a lot of genuine groove in the production though, especially the janky percussion, and Troye Sivan’s melodies are sonically sound. I can see this growing on me like LAUV has succeeded in before, but I could equally see myself hating this after hearing it more than five times (Because you know the radio will play the most bottom of the barrel stuff after the rise of trap-rap). It’s okay, I guess. Next.

#36 – “a lot” – 21 Savage featuring J. Cole

It’s about time this appeared, and I know exactly why. Back in late December, 21 Savage dropped his album as pretty much a Christmas present, with i am > i was being slightly inconsistent but there’s still a lot of quality there, and fun to be had, especially with the powerful opening track. Now that there’s a music video and now that 21 Savage has been detained by ICE for overstaying his Visa (Apparently he’s actually from the UK, but he’s been freed now), I can only see this rising from now on, and that’s good because it was going to be my Featured Single for this week if it didn’t appear. This song is fantastic, all three versions of it. It starts with a few different 21 Savages just repeating ad-libs while that great soul sample croons in the background of the trap skitters, “I love you for so many reasons, I love you for all seasons”. The bass hits behind 21’s insanely catchy hook with that multi-tracked, “A lot” playing after every line, until 21’s verse, which gets fittingly, broken down, for an unidentified sample to repeat, “I break it on down”, with random vocal samples and sound effects playing in between. While 21’s meaningful subject matter is arguably more important, and the section is totally filler, I love those little touches that show the layers of the production. 21 is essentially playing the underdog who’s seen and been through traumatic gang violence and experiences with women, who has still succeeded. But then you hear J. Cole drunkenly and tiredly say, “Yeah”, before going on a ramble about how 21 Savage had his kids in the studio or something, I don’t know, and then he goes off.

Some n****s make millions, other n****s make memes

Yeah, it may seem like I hate J. Cole’s guts from how all his charting stuff is really boring and always gets negative reviews from me, but he’s definitely one of the best rappers out when he really wants to bother. This whole verse is essentially a complete ramble, but he did warn us, although he does keep a general theme in his rapid flow and charismatic yet calm delivery, which is how the new-wave rappers and overall new-wave black society in the modern Internet age should have more guidance, and now that the older legends in that society are getting older and more mature, much like 21, he feels they should have more responsibility and that he feels bad for the even newer, younger wave of SoundCloud rappers who will regret all their decisions, including 6ix9ine, who I may add he doesn’t defend – he just feels bad for him as he knows at some point, Tekashi’s going to look back at what he did and ask himself, “Was it worth it getting myself into prison for essentially life?” I wonder if Ty Dolla $ign is thinking that while he’s serving 15 years for cocaine possession. 21’s alternate verse on the physical, live and music video versions also discusses people getting blocked at the border, and that families in ghettos still don’t even seem to have a right to clean water and are constantly stuck in financial situations and struggles with no way to escape, and it honestly seems like an anthem for 21, who’s gone through all this, with his verses combined probably being better than Cole’s, honestly. This song is like six minutes (At least the best version of the song is) so I’m surprised it’s gone this far, but it deserves it. Check this out if you haven’t already.

#15 – “All I Ever Wanted” – Fredo featuring Dave

Now, back to some British stuff. Fredo and Dave are close friends, and honestly the chocolate frog and its mundanely-named partner are people I initially was just confused by, and you can tell during my review of “Funky Friday” months ago, which is a song I know oddly admire and adore for all its odd quirks. I didn’t think it was anything special at the time, but it’s slowly become one of my favourite songs of the past year. After listening to more stuff, though, as more from both has crept up on the charts, I’ve started to love them both, and seeing as this is the only song to enter the top 40 from the three Fredo album tracks entering on the top 100 this week from his album Third Avenue (That I’ll check out immediately after this episode), this is of course the one that left the most impressions on listeners. I’m really into British rap, especially the trap and the more low-key, soul and R&B stuff (Check out Tom Misch, he has some beautiful songs like “Good to be Home” and “Movie”, in fact the Free Form official Spotify playlist has some fantastic British hip hop, listen to some of it if you can and give these guys support), so hopefully this’ll be good, and, yeah, it is. It starts with a glittering piano and twinkling leads that are cheap but definitely symphonic and almost video game-like, with producer tags ham-fistedly appearing as the bass slowly creeps ominously. In fact, the whole song is really ominous as even when the hi-hats come in, there’s no real bounce and Fredo just yells at us. It’s pretty intimidating, and when the beat finally drops, we have that classic stock “Oh!” sound you hear in songs like “Leave Me Alone” by Flipp Dinero, “Dilemma” by Nelly and “3500” by Travis Scott, but here it has so much reverb that any other voice than Fredo’s troubled gang mindset feels distant. Dave is great here, referencing... Lil Baby of all people, with a more stable and serious flow, mentioning the people close to him who he’s lost to both prison and death, in a really long and fantastic verse. The emotionless vibe of this track makes it so much more full of emotion, and although it sounds slightly dated in its production, this is a dark and menacing yet almost sombre banger, pretty similar to one of Dave’s other songs, “Hangman”, and definitely deserves to be Dave’s sixth top 40 hit and Fredo’s fourth.

#7 – “bury a friend” – Billie Eilish

I’ve heard two other songs from Billie Eilish in full, and I love both of them; “when the party’s over” is a genius piece of songwriting from her brother Finneas, and “lovely” is a beautiful ballad with Khalid. Those were slow, minimalistic piano-lead songs, though, so what happens when she lends her voice to, uh... industrial funk? Yeah, this one is bouncier and this one is more danceable, and that’s why it debuted this high, especially with Eilish’s hype at an all time high right now, not because some British rapper cameos in literally less than one second at the start of the song. His name is Crooks, and I figured he would have an uncredited rap verse when I saw it had additional vocals from him,  but it’s literally just him whispering, “Billie”, and a couple ad-libs. Eh, okay, but how does the music stack up? It’s brilliant, of course. With Kanye’s “Black Skinhead” as a point of reference, the minimalistic 808s and claps only accompany Billie’s multi-tracked and pitch-shifted vocals, before the verse starts and sound effects are scattered everywhere, with pained shrieks, glass shattering and moans adding to the lyrics. Seriously, I love little details where musical elements actually relate to the lyrics directly, but then that bass hits slowly and that one 808 just keeps going on with a shrill synth, and then it just ends entirely, pretty abruptly. This song is eerie and honestly pretty scary, and Crooks’ ad-libs and backing vocals contribute to that greatly. Eilish’s sing-songy melodies make it even weirder, even, making the song feel like a possessed toy box. That intense moment where it’s just that ear-piercing synth and the 808 is such an interesting musical moment, man, this is pop brilliance. It’s creepy art pop not designed to be an indie darling, but designed for the radio (This is insanely catchy as well) and that hits a soft spot for me. The best art is made for mass consumption. That new album’s coming in March by the way, and I’m incredibly excited.

Conclusion

That was a really freaking good week, actually, so I’m only having to force Worst of the Week out on LAUV and Troye Sivan for “i’m so tired...” (The song’s not even close to bad, it’s just my only option), with Best of the Week going to Billie Eilish again for “bury a friend”. Tied Honourable Mentions go to the equally amazing yet only somewhat flawed songs, with 21 Savage, J. Cole, Fredo and Dave all picking them up for “a lot” and “All I Ever Wanted”, respectively. See ya next week, but it won’t top this.