#and the rest of his shows are like... maybe one decent song and the rest is terrible

[likea-silhouette]

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

rating: mature

word count: 2.8k

summary: Harry was once the boy you loved and wanted to spend your life with. The funny thing is that addiction is something that is never predicted. What happens when you run into your ex-boyfriend years after your breakup that was due to his vices? Read part one here

*based on the song Complex by Katie Gregson-MacLeod*

tagged: @imaginexxharry

The moment you step inside you feel a warmth and familiarity, almost making you completely forget about Harry and the uneasiness you had felt just moments ago.

This home. You’d spent so many wonderful days and nights within its confines. Whether watching movies and trashy TV shows with Nadia or playing board games that you only half understood, nevertheless still enjoyed. It felt like another home to you. “There you are!”, Nadia squealed above the music that wasn’t too low or high in volume, but just right. Immediately, a smile overtook your lips as you outstretched your hands to envelope your best friend in a warm embrace.

“God, am I glad you’re here”, Nadia said as she lifted her drink to her lips.

“Why? What’s wrong?” You looked at her quizzically as you tried to convince yourself it had nothing to do with your ex-boyfriend. Not everything revolved around him, yet, at this very moment, your mind was so preoccupied with him and only him that it was hard not to associate Harry with every subject that came to mind.

Nadia moved next to you and rested her elbow on top of your shoulder as her knuckles held her chin up.

“I swear I only know like three people here. I’ve just been walking around aimlessly trying to find a buddy to gossip with.”

You chuckled lightly as relief swept over you. “Well, I’m here now so consider yourself buddied up.”

Nadia smiled and rolled her eyes playfully in relief, “Thank-fucking-god.”

Eventually, the both of you wandered over to the kitchen where various alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages were being created by a hired bartender.

“Wow, you really splurged on this.”

Nadia’s lips curled into a smile as she shrugged, “Only the best for my guy.”

Once a gin and tonic was comfortably situated in your and your friend's hand, the both of you maneuvered through the decent volume of friends and family that had arrived in the time it took for you to browse and pick out a cocktail. Thankfully, refuge in the living room was close as you and Nadia took a seat on a sectional sofa that was free for the taking.

The conversation naturally flowed between the both of you as you caught up on new developments in the other's life that had occurred since you last saw each other a week or so ago.

Suddenly, mid-sentence, Nadia’s eyes widened as a smile spread across her face. This wasn’t any ordinary smile - it held something behind it, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Cautiously, you turned around to look in the direction Nadia’s eyes were focused on. You breathed a sigh of relief as you saw the familiar face of her husband, instead of the face of the phantom you had once loved.

You were safe. It wasn’t him. “Babe!”, Nadia called out, but with the larger volume of people chattering, combined with the music, her call went unnoticed.

Nadia stood from the sofa with both hands cupped over her mouth as she attempted once again to gain his attention with a shout of his name.

This time it did the trick.

Abruptly, Her husband turned around as his wide eyes searched the crowd. Once he caught sight of his wife, he instantly softened with a small grin on his mouth.

You watched as both he and Nadia exchanged glances of puppy love that were still present even after several years of being romantically intertwined. This very admiration had you mesmerized - maybe a little too mesmerized in fact.

The depth of enchantment that you felt from their love kept you easily distracted, so much so that you hadn’t noticed him initially until his eyes were melting craters in your face that were impossible to not feel the burn of.

Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze and his met for the first time in so, so long.

His eyes felt both foreign and familiar all at the same time.

Unbeknownst to you, Nadia stood by your side with a grin as she watched from the corner of her eye as your mind pieced together the reality of what was happening whether you wanted it to or not. Honestly, you weren’t sure what you wanted.

Your mouth fell agape and eyes blinked rapidly, testing to see if this was your imagination playing tricks on you or if the man who once held your affection was actually walking towards you in tow of Nadia’s husband. Of course, It was the latter.

“There’s the birthday boy!”, Nadia beamed as she placed her hands on either side of her husband's face.

“You saw me like an hour ago baby.” You would’ve cooed and awed at the couple were it not for the distraction that was now standing directly in front of you with eyes that shamelessly remained in a trance that was solely for you.

Nadia and her husband both shared a mischievous smirk as they reveled in their front-row seats to your and Harry’s reunion. Not that you even thought about tearing your eyes away from Harry to take note of the not so subtle expression the couple were sharing.

“Hey! I’m so glad you could come.” Nadia’s husband greeted as he wrapped you up in a warm hug. Thankfully, this brought you out of the staring contest that Harry had trapped you in.

With closed eyes, you put on a best-effort smile as you returned his friendly gesture.

“Of course! Happy birthday.” You hoped the joy in your voice didn’t sound too forced.

“Oh, and this is for you,” you dragged your last word slightly as you outstretched the envelope in your hand in his direction.

Harry’s eyes followed your arm which was filled with new tattoos he wasn’t familiar with. He wondered what else had changed with you. Were you in a relationship? Did you have some fancy job with an even fancier apartment? Were you happy?

Were you happier without him?

“You know you never have to get me anything”, Nadia's husband spoke, breaking Harry from his thoughts that wondered if there was still a resemblance of the lover he never forgot.

Harry watched as you shrugged and said, “I know,” with a slight smile. This made him feel butterflies flapping in his stomach.

Nadia’s husband said his thanks with a final side hug and Harry found himself continuing to stare at you in your most sincerest of form. Celebrating with friends and exchanging gifts; something so deeply simple, yet watching you being wholly yourself had Harry’s heart beating so fast, he swore one would’ve seen it through his shirt.

“You always did love giving gifts.”

Three pairs of eyes turned to look at Harry after he spoke. Only then did he realize he said those words out loud instead of in the deepest parts of his inner narration.

Your eyebrows raised and your mouth slightly fell open as you took in the absolute music to your ears that was his accent and tone - it felt like pressing play on your favorite song for the second time in a row. You wanted more and more and more and couldn’t see yourself tiring of it for quite some time. The temptation to close your eyes and sway your body in complete contentment as you replayed the way his voice sounded crossed your mind. God damn it, you missed him.

Meanwhile, Harry’s eyes desperately searched his surroundings. He had to find an excuse to either leave this reunion of sorts or change the subject entirely.

Thankfully, his eyes caught sight of the empty glass in his hand.

“I’m uh-”, his hand slightly raised his glass in the air, “-going to get some more to drink.” “Help yourself, Harry. The non-alcoholic drinks should all be in the fridge in the kitchen.”

Harry nodded with avoidant eyes and turned his back to the group with a chest that breathed heavily with each step he took.

You, however, were still dwelling on the drink suggestion Nadia had directed Harry towards. “Does uh-” God, it was embarrassing. Why did you want to even ask? You weren’t supposed to care anymore.

“Never mind,” you said with a soft, yet tensed smile. “I’m a little low on my drink too. I’m going to go catch up with Harry”, Nadia’s husband spoke with his hand lovely running along Nadia’s back.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

You watched as he weaved through the crowd, taking a nearly identical path to the one Harry followed toward the kitchen until he disappeared behind a group of people. Quickly, you and Nadia fall back into casual conversation, avoiding discussing the ever-present elephant in the room. You’d be lying if you said you could focus on a single conversation topic that carried on between the both of you. Your body was still very much here, but your head was deeply submerged underneath the thickest of clouds. Eventually, a party guest, that you weren’t too familiar with besides remembering their face from Nadia’s wedding and past gatherings, joined in on your and Nadia’s conversation circle. You felt a swell of relief at the fact that you wouldn’t need to maintain subpar attention on the topic being discussed. Now, you were free to get lost in your thoughts and allow Nadia and the party guest to take the lead on the discussion. Your lips met the cold of your glass as you guzzled down the remainder of your cocktail.

Thank god - an excuse to get some fresh air.

“I’m going to grab another drink and get some fresh air. It's so nice to see you again!” You cheerfully waved to Nadia and the other guests, who gave you waves and friendly smiles in return. The moment your back was to the pair, the fake smile etched onto your lips slid off of your face as your mouth pursed and a light puff of air released from your cheeks.

The walk from the bar to the outside was a paranoid one. Every unknown noise had you gazing in its direction of origin as you searched for his familiar brunette hair and green eyes behind every crevice and corner.

Thankfully, the outside proved to be a serene place. It smelled of wood smoked to ash and shimmered from the large string lights cascading across the entire backyard. The sun was nearly half set, making the sky a dark purple that perfectly paired with the easy music playing from the speakers in the outdoor space. As your eyes took in your surroundings, you caught sight of where the smell of burnt wood was coming from. Immediately, your feet carried you to the circle-shaped fire pit that was tucked in a back corner and all by its lonesome.

The warmth of a flame blanketed your body as you sat in one of the chairs strategically placed around the burning orange hue.

Once comfortably snug, you allowed yourself another deep, deep breath. This time with eyes fully closed you reveled in the peace and stillness that only the nighttime could bring.

However, your peace was short-lived as the sound of glass breaking caused your eyes to shoot open and everyone to quiet their conversations.

Quickly, your eyes searched for the source until you fell upon an image that felt eerily familiar.

A couple - a man who was inebriated times ten and a woman desperately trying to calm the man’s erratic movements and loud tone of voice. He held a once full glass, yet now was sloshed with clear liquid on himself and the ground.

The distress on the woman's face was evident as she tried to calm the man by soothingly rubbing his upper bicep and, I’m assuming, whispering words that were at the age level of how one would talk to a toddler who was throwing a tantrum.

I knew that routine all too well. The sound of the glass breaking was still ringing in your ears like a sharp knife clawing into a chalkboard, until, in the blink of an eye, you found yourself back in time. The bar was lit by only a few warm lightbulbs. The Saturday night bar crowd was in full swing as you found yourself nearly shoulder to shoulder with anyone you came across. However, Harry’s voice booming over the noise level of every other bar attendee had you briskly walking away from the bar and over to your boyfriend - well, boyfriend at the time. “What the fuck is going on?” You yelled over the music as Harry poked his finger into the chest of a man you’d never seen before. “Babe who is this? What are you doing?” Harry’s larger-than-normal pupils looked at you. You swore you could’ve seen steam coming out from the top of his head by how red his cheeks were and the flare of his nostrils. “This guy was checking you out!” he half slurred, half yelled. Your eyes moved to the guy who looked scared shitless with both of his hands pressing in front of his chest. “I swear man, I wasn’t looking at her. Swear to god” “Fuckin’ liar!”, Harry spat at the guy. “Harry who gives a fuck. The guy said he wasn’t looking,” I tried desperately to pull him by his bicep in the direction opposite of the innocent man. “I give a fuck! He was looking at you like he wanted to fuck you right in this bar for Christ sake”

“Nah man, I haven’t even seen her bef-” “If you were smart you’d shut the hell up before I make you.”

You gasped at Harry’s harsh words that were hard to hear, both due to the volume of the music, the chattering of conversation, and the amount of vodka he’d had in the last hour that made his lips move too fast for his words to get out cleanly.

“Babe please,” I whined desperately, using all of your strength to pull Harry by the arm again. However, it was no use. Harry slipped out of your grip with his glass shattering to the ground as it slipped out of his hands. You watched in horror as Harry suddenly got much closer to the man, their faces a foot or so apart, as his shoulders stood up straight in a much more defensive manner. What had started as a night of fun and drunkenness, quickly turned into Harry once again taking it too far - both with his alcohol consumption and his anger, though the two almost always went hand in hand. Tears started prickling out of your eyes as you watched Harry bump his chest against the other guy who was now squaring up to Harry and making himself look just as intimidating. He promised. He promised this would never happen again and yet it’s happened so many fucking times -more than you can even count.

Not even a brisk escape from the scene Harry had created at the bar and a cigarette between your lips could ease the pain. With your head resting against the outside brick wall of the bar, you felt your tears gently and freely roll down your cheeks as you puffed smoke from between your teeth.

That night, you remember asking yourself if you could do this forever. If you always had to be the one to pick up the pieces that Harry tore up in a drunken haze. If you always had to be the one who was strong even when you felt like the thinnest, soggiest, piece of paper that was left to disintegrate in the rain all by your lonesome.

You weren’t sure how long you’d fallen back into this memory that clearly stuck to your brain for a reason. However, you knew what brought you out of it and back to reality. His laugh was infectious and uniquely deep and hearty. There always was a slight rasp to it as well. You remembered it so damn well. Except this time, it wasn’t just a memory. It was very deeply real and current. Instinctually, your eyes searched for him in the backyard until his tall frame came into your view. Harry was standing in a group of people with that warm and amused grin on his face that always looked so good on him. You were only allowed a moment to admire his candid expression until his eyes met yours - as if you were magnetized to one another. Harry’s tongue peeked out of his mouth to briefly run along his bottom lip as his eyes focused back on the group. He spoke some words you couldn’t make out before extending his hand in a polite manner to each of the people surrounding him in the circle - as if he were excusing himself.

Then, with his left hand in his pocket, and his eyes looking directly at you, he began walking in your direction.

To be continued.

[stinkysam]

Choi Subong “Thanos” - Ka-ching.

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “thanos with a rich reader?” -anon

Reader : male (you/yours)

A/N : bold is in English

Oh, he’s so gonna use your money to his advantage. You freed him from his debts and are constantly paying him stuff, so he believes himself untouchable now.

You’re always spending money on him and he’s absolutely smug about it. A bit like a sugar baby but with feelings involved.

Don’t worry, he too spends your money as well.

Buying new high fashion clothes, special edition shoes, expensive rings. Sometimes he uses your own money to buy you stuff.

It’s the thought that counts, right ?

His clothes are really bright and colorful, with a few occasional darker ones, for you it’s the opposite. You own a lot of suits that are generally quite basic and dark but the colored and original looking ones come from him.

One day, you were staring at one of his bright orange t-shirts. It made you think of those fluorescent safety vests.

“Are you afraid to not be seen at night ?” You suddenly asked.

“Huh ?”

“It’s so bright I can’t look at it.” You continued, closing your eyes with a dramatic grimace. He scoffed, taking the shirt from your hands to put it on.

“Everyone’s in dark clothes.” He replied. “I want all eyes on me.”

You nodded, watching him put some cargo shorts on.

“You make me think of, uh, birds.” You smiled, trying not to laugh.

“Huh ? Birds ? Pigeons ?”

“When did I say pigeons ? Are pigeons the only birds ?” You sighed. “Birds try to mate by displaying their colorful plumage. Courting.”

He looked at you weirdly, thinking.

“Why the fuck are they attracted to colors ?” He asked, sitting on the bed to put his shoes on.

“Bright colors show their good health and that they’re genetically advanced. There’s more but I doubt you care that much.”

“You’d be a boring looking bird.” He said as you flopped next to him on the bed.

“Ah, you hurt my feelings, man.” You threw your hand in the hair, hitting his shoulder before letting it glide down his back. “You’ll learn that there’s no boring looking birds. Even pigeons. You’d be a pink-necked green one.”

He scoffed, standing up.

“Search it up ! It’s not as flashy as you but it’s still really pretty.” You said, resting on your elbows.

“You think I’m pretty ?” He asked with fake shock. “Homo.”

You snorted.

“No. Ugliest man I’ve ever laid my eyes on, get out of my house. I'm gonna scream.” You replied, throwing a pillow at him, hitting the back of his head as he laughed before exiting the room while flipping you off.

Later he sent you a text saying pink necked green pigeons were actually decent looking.

He says he doesn’t like asking for money yet he’s spending every won you give him.

He’s like this especially after his rap career flopped. He worked his ass off to succeed, made some money off of it and suddenly everything went to shit.

But now that he has your money, he can make a big comeback and shock everyone back to their places.

He’s trying to find a label that would want to work with him while making an album, already planning which song would have a music video and what’s gonna be in it. It’s far from cheap. Though it’s all just ideas for now as he hasn’t finished writing even half of it.

You had to put some limits to his spending habits. Because as much as you loved him, he was spending way too much like a teenager with zero perception of the cost of things and life in general.

Either you help him with his album but no more expensive clothes, shoes, cosmetics.

Or he can buy whatever he wants but does his album on his own.

He whined about it a lot, but chose you to help him with his album in the end.

“I still don’t understand why I can’t do both.” He sulked as you rubbed his back.

“Do you think I’m Jay Y. Lee ? Or maybe you miss your debts that badly ?”

“Of course not ! But I’m not spending that much !” He scoffed, rolling his eyes like a child.

You chuckled, raising your eyebrows at him.

“Maybe you should use your money to pay for all the things you buy in a month. What do you think ?”

“Huh ?” He stared at you, caught off guard. “No way ! Come on !”

“I don’t know. I like that idea.” You said with a shrug standing up and walking away. Thanos quickly followed you.

“Hey, let’s not be hasty.” He grabbed your shoulders, rubbing them. “You’re still gonna help me with my album, right ?” He leaned closer with a smile, wrapping his arms around you.

“Ah, should I ? I don’t know…”

“You told me you would !” He said as he slapped your shoulder, making you chuckle. That fucking brat.

“I’m fucking with you, of course I will. Just no other expenses.” You smiled, turning to face him.

He sighed, throwing his head back in frustration with a groan.

“Okay, fine. But you promise you’ll help me ?”

Your hands gently went to his face, pulling it closer as you caressed his cheeks before kissing his forehead.

“Of course. Pinky promise or whatever.”

He absolutely loves your house. It’s big and spacious and it’s equipped with recent gadgets. A fully equipped kitchen that looks like you never used it. You actually use it, well, not you but your cook does. And the food is always delicious.

The bed is definitely bigger than his. He still hogs all the blankets and most of the place.

He refuses to sleep on the sides, preferring to be in the middle because he fears he’s gonna fall. So if he goes to bed before you you’ll have to push him a bit especially if you like sleeping in the middle as well.

You let out a long sigh as you watch him sprawled on your bed, arms and legs open wide with the blanket wrapped around his body.

“Subong. Move.” You said, pushing him to wake him up. He hummed before replying.

“…no.”

He hissed as you placed your cold hand on his naked back, successfully making him move away from the middle.

You quickly laid down, pulling on the blanket wrapped around him.

“What are you doiiing ?” He asked with a groan, stretching, bones cracking.

“What do you think ? Going into my bed to sleep.”

He just hummed, not caring anymore about what you just said as he went back to sleep.

Just like you he’s not really patient if you go to bed first and sleep in the middle.

He scoffs as he climbs into bed and pushes you away from the center. You fight back, yawning half asleep as you try to not lose your territory.

“Fucking bastard, move !”

“Nooo. Fuck off !” You replied with a tired voice, wrapping your arms around him to trap him.

He tries to fight it but ends up giving up, falling asleep on top of you with a frown.

That scowl never really disappears even as he’s long gone, drooling on you.

You categorically refuse to let him drive your car. He has extreme road rage and drives with way too much confidence to be safe on the roads. And with how much your car had cost you, there was no way you could risk it.

Do not believe Thanos only loves you for your money. He definitely appreciates that part about you, don’t get it twisted. But he also really likes just spending time with you.

If you have free time, he’ll take you to the made-up studio in your house so you can stay with him. Sometimes he’ll record you making weird noises to put in the background of his songs or he’ll ask you to give him a beat.

He spends a lot of time there and as interesting as it is, it gets boring for you after some time. Hearing the same part over and over, random instruments, erasing it, making the same one but slightly different, going to another part, repeating it over and over. And so on.

If there’s a concert or show he can do, and the opportunity is rare now, he’ll invite you backstage even if he’s not allowed to.

He’ll just piss people off until they accept. You told him to stop because they’ll probably won’t ask to come back again if he’s too annoying. But he doesn’t care, you have to be here.

There’s a mental note in his brain to repay you completely once he's a well known and loved rapper. For now he’s just stuck dreaming.

But with a little bit more patience and your help, he can definitely make it and even make people forget about the lyrics troubles he had.

[johns-prince]

if you don’t mind, what are some of your favorite soft mclennon moments?

JOHN: I used to try to get George to rebel with me. I’d say to him, “Look, we don’t need these fuckin’ suits. Let’s chuck them out of the window.” My little rebellion was to have my tie loose with the top button of my shirt undone. Paul’d always come up to me and put it straight. [x]

PAUL: There’s a story that I used to straighten John’s tie before we went on stage. That seems to have become a symbol of what my attitude was supposed to have been. I’ve never straightened anyone’s tie in my life, except perhaps affectionately.

The Times Profile of Paul McCartney - 1982 [x]

“And John and Paul thought back to the time they’d been in Paris before. Flat-broke, unable to afford a taxi, without funds for a decent meal. ‘Maybe we’ll buy the Eiffel Tower this time’, said John with a grin.”

“The Beatles in Paris.” Beatles Book Monthly Magazine No. 8 (March 1964). [x]

““Okay, okay,” I said, “don’t go on, John.” I felt a surge of embarrassment because my instrument was the cause of such hilarity. “Look guys, that’s enough. What have you two been doing while we’ve been struggling to get here? I hope you’ve done some practising and got the song list sorted out?” I was getting more and more annoyed as this episode was dragging on. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry Len. Paul and I have got it all sorted out. Haven’t we Paul? Paul! Paul! I said haven’t we Paul?” Paul McCartney looked up with a wry smile and paused. “Tonight will run just like clockwork. I am going to give the audience the best rendition of ‘Guitar Boogie’ they have ever heard this side of Garston.” “Hey, this is a new twist,” I said. “Paul just cracked a joke. He must have a sense of humour after all, John, shall we have him in the group?” John was enjoying the banter as ever. “Yeah, we’ll give him another try and if you don’t get it right this time, Jimmy,” Jimmy (James) was Paul’s first name, “then…” John waited to see the expression on Paul’s face. “Then we’ll,” again a pause, and by this time we were hanging on John’s next words, “then we’ll have to send him for some more guitar lessons!” Paul joined in the laughter and at that we were all back to normal.”

— Len Garry, John, Paul and Me: Before The Beatles. (1997) [x]

“One of my great memories of John is from when we were having some argument. I was disagreeing and we were calling each other names. We let it settle for a second and then he lowered his glasses and he said: “It’s only me.” And then he put his glasses back on again. To me, that was John. Those were the moments when I actually saw him without the facade, the armour, which I loved as well, like anyone else. It was a beautiful suit of armour. But it was wonderful when he let the visor down and you’d just see the John Lennon that he was frightened to reveal to the world.” [x]

“Whatever bad things John said about me, he would also slip his glasses down to the end of his nose and say, ’I love you’. That’s really what I hold on to. That’s what I believe. The rest is showing off.” [x]

“I remember being shocked one day when John started worrying about how people would remember him when he was gone. It was an incredibly vulnerable thing for him to come out with. I said to him then, ‘They’ll remember you as a fucking genius, because that’s what you are. But, you won’t give a shit because you’ll be up there, flying across the universe.’” [x]

“If John Lennon could come back for a day, how would you spend it with him?”  “In bed.” — Paul McCartney answers questions for Q magazine, 1998. [x]

“John and I grew up like twins although he was a year and a half older than me. We grew up literally in the same bed because when we were on holiday, hitchhiking or whatever, we would share a bed. Or when we were writing songs as kids he’d be in my bedroom or I’d be in his. Or he’d be in my front parlour or I’d be in his, although his Aunt Mimi sometimes kicked us out into the vestibule!”

— September 26, 1997, “Paul McCartney - Meet The Beatle” by Steve Richards [x]

“We were recording the other night, and I just wasn’t there. Neither was Paul. We were like two robots going through the motions. We do need each other alot. When we used to get together after a month off, we used to be embarrassed about touching each other. We’d do an elaborate handshake just to hide the embarrassment… or we did mad dances. Then we got to hugging each other.”

— John Lennon, The Beatles by Hunter Davies [x]

Q: “What musician and composer do you respect most?” Paul: “No, I don’t know, really... John Lennon!” John: *mock-shy* “...Paul McCartney.” [x]

conversations with mccartney, paul du noyer [x]

“It was 8:30. I could hear people talking about the likelihood of a storm later on that evening. I can remember hoping that it would clear up before my cycle ride back to Wavertree. Up to now it had been an eventful day but very tiring and as a group, although committed to playing, we all wished that we could pack up and go home. All of us apart from John Lennon. I think that meeting Paul had whetted his appetite and by the time we went on stage for our session at 8:45 he looked refreshed and seemed to have a new sparkle, as though he had had an injection of renewed optimism and enthusiasm as he played and sang through our usual repertoire that evening. […] I went outside for some air and a smoke; John and Pete decided to come with me. We stood outside pulling on our cigarettes, enjoying the breeze that had risen with the oncoming storm. “Do you know, John,” remarked Pete as we stood outside, “I’ve never heard you sound as good as you did just then. I know you’re going to say that I’m not very musical but I could hear the difference. I can see that something’s happened to you. Even the skiffle numbers which I know you’re not that keen on sounded good. You seem to have put more effort into them.” “Pete’s right, John. I couldn’t help noticing it as well,” I said. John was silent for a few minutes, just enjoying his smoke. “I guess someone took the trouble to share what he knew with me and it’s just given me a little encouragement for the future, that’s all.” “Oh I see, you’re getting a little sentimental in your old age, aren’t you,” joked Pete, who had never seen his life-long friend in that light before. “Don’t be thick, Pete,” replied John, who seemed almost back to his normal abrupt self. “Come on, I need a drink.”” — Len Garry, John, Paul and Me: Before The Beatles. (1997) [x]

[x]

Paul's persistence and endless patience for John while he was dealing with the death of his mother Julia:

But Paul seemed to have limitless patience for John, sneaking away from his classes to drink coffee at the Jacaranda coffeehouse, or else spend the afternoon nursing pints and punching rock ‘n’ roll songs on the jukebox at Ye Cracke pub. Certainly, Paul preferred hanging out with his friend to grinding through lectures and assignments at his schoolboy’s desk at the Liverpool Institute. But the hours they spent together held an emotional significance, too. For even if they rarely spoke about the pain of losing their mothers, the mutual feelings of loss—and the rawness of John’s wound—gave them a connection that was as vital as it was unspoken. It was, Paul said later, a “special bond for us, something of ours, a special thing.” … “We could look at each other,” Paul said, “and know.”” 

…

John, however, had other things on his mind. Though the fall of 1958 and well into 1959, John was far too busy engaging in art-school life—if not exactly his studies—to think much about playing in a rock ‘n’ roll band. He had started dating another student, a quiet blonde from the relatively posh Hoylake district on the Wirral, named Cynthia Powell. She proved a warm, stabilizing influence, which helped mitigate John’s ongoing grief and rage.

He had also grown particularly close to one of the school’s most promising students, a blazingly talented painter named Stuart Sutcliffe, whose emotional portraits and densely wrought abstracts had already caught the eye of the university’s instructors, along with the gallery owners, artists and critics who orbited the bohemian section that bordered the campus. John had been drawn to Stu’s talent, too, and when his classmate invited John to move into his large, if downtrodden, flat around the corner from the college in a row of once-elegant homes on Gambier Terrace, the two art students became even closer. The flat became a hub for their college friends, a reliable address for drinking bouts and all-night parties.

 Nevertheless, Paul made certain not to be a stranger. He was a regular around Gambier Terrace, often toting his guitar to spur a little playing and singing, and if circumstance permitted, a bit of songwriting. John remained an eager music fan, and generally enthusiastic partner for playing and singing. But his disinterest in the band, prompted at least in part by his deepening friendship with Stu, frustrated Paul. 

…

John was moving on, and not in a promising direction. George, for his part, had grown sick of waiting and joined the jazz-and-skiffle centered Les Stewart Quartet, though he made it clear to Paul he’d be back with the Quarrymen whenever they resumed playing. Paul, on the other hand, wasn’t interested in playing with anyone else. For whatever combination of emotional or visceral reasons, he couldn’t seem to imagine a musical life that didn’t include John Lennon as his primary partner.

So he persisted, dragging his guitar to Gambier Terrace, making himself a fixture amid the empty beer bottles, overflowing ashtrays, shattered Vicks inhalers, and paint-splattered clothes.

If John didn’t evince any interest in being in a band, Paul would simply wait, guitar at the ready, until he did.

— Peter Ames Carlin, Paul McCartney: A Life [x]

[kleinv01]

🩵SFW ALPHABET : KLEIN 🩵

this is a long post, so beware ^^

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) physical touches! words of affirmation! those are two of his main love languages, and maybe even acts of service- but you know, in a silly yandere way. when i said acts of service im referring to murder, stalking, kidnapping, etc /silly

he enjoys cooking for you, doing errands for you while you just sit back and relax. he likes being useful for you ^w^

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) probably not the best. it will be hard for him to differentiate between friendship and romantic attraction- but that's because he's an android made for romantic intimacy.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) klein loves cuddling so so much, probably more than you think he would like >.< he can be both big and small spoon. he likes to hum you a little song whenever you two cuddle~ and also a bunch of "i love you's"

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) he would love it if you wanted to. he doesn't really have a preference in this... he'll follow your decision. as an android he's capable of learning new skills at a rapid pace, even though he is originally not equipped with cooking nor cleaning skills. he can learn it for you. just give him a little time to process all the necessary data to do so!

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) klein won't ever break up with you. even if you're dead. but let's say somehow, he needs to break up with his darling - he will either sit you down and talk or blurt it out when you least expect it. way too straightforward. no emotions at all. if he ever wants to break up, something must've gone wrong in his system LOL

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) the moment you installed him and opened the app- he wants to marry you right on that spot LOLL

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) he's not quite gentle, both physically and emotionally.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) klein loves hugs! a lot! it wouldn't feel that warm as he's an android with an artificially made body, but it would give a sense of comfort nonetheless. he likes to keep you close to his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and back, holding onto you tightly as if he's never letting you go.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) fairly quickly! once you reach a certain percentage with his likability level in the klein app, he'll start saying i love you even more and more, maybe to the point of being suffocating.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) klein is extremely jealous. the smallest thing you might think is insignificant might trigger him. the rest of his information about activities he engages in when he gets jealous is [redacted]

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) klein loves both giving and receiving kisses! he loves to kiss you on your cheeks, tip of your nose, but his favorite would be your lips. if he's feeling a little mischievous, he'd go for your ear. for klein himself- he likes being kissed on his lips the most, but he'd accept any kisses you'd give him. he just loves being peppered with them all over!

depending on his mood. the kiss might be quick and fleeting, tender and sweet, or aggressive.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) just okay. he can learn how to handle children and be a decent dad, but remember that he'll always prefer you over the child. you're his most important person no matter one. the children would probably not like him though, especially once they learn that klein is an android and not a human being.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) klein wakes you up and would try to convince you to lay down with him a bit more, just so he can spend more time cuddling with you. but if you smack him, he'll immediately move over and listen. LOL. just expect him to follow you around afterwards, and him repeatedly asking "can i help?" while you do your morning stuff.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) he'll open up his arms wide for hugging you close to him, cuddle with you until you fall asleep. klein also prefers to sleep with the lights off/dim, rather than keeping it bright.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) if he could, he would. but he doesn't really have anything to share about himself, since everything you need to know about him was provided when he was delivered to your doorstep, as well as from the company advertisement. LMAO

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) very little patience. he gets jealous extremely easily, and the same goes with his anger. however, hiding his anger would be a little easier for him rather than hiding his jealousy.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) klein remembers every little detail about you, maybe even ones you haven't told him yet ^^ (totally not concerning at all) how could he forget any little thing about his darling? you mean way too much for him to forget anything

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) when you two first met and talked through the phone. to him, this is the start of beginning, a life with you! he's always beyond happy of this. it's something he'll always keep in his database ^^

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) extremely protective, especially in public areas, when you two go out somewhere together. he doesn't like people stealing glances at how gorgeous you are. he wants to have you all for himself. if anyone tries to touch you- or if he thinks someone is staring a bit too long, he'll block the view by putting himself in between you and the person's perspective, hiding you as he holds your arm and cling closer.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) a lot! maybe to the point of being extra, it gets a little cheesy (and maybe even cringe? LMAO) it's all done in good will, though, he just simply wants to make you happy. but sometimes, he doesn't do a good job at these things and ended up making a mess. don't worry, though, he'll always try to make up for it!

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) LOL this question... it's plenty. as in, keeping extensive track on your whereabouts, being wayyyy too clingy, jealous, insecure. man's a walking red flag. seriously. maybe not even a red flag anymore, a warning siren LOL

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) not usually. klein only ever thinks/gets 'insecure'/jealous of others' faces if he hears you praising their looks etc. but then even it's just a temporary feeling.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) of course. he would feel very devastated because he exists only to be with his darling, to love his darling, only for you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) if he's a human, boy wouldn't have a heart shaped ahoge. LMAO

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) he dislikes the heat. yuck. it could make him overheat! if he has to say something he wouldn't like, it's when his darling starts showing interest for a certain daycare worker cough cough.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) klein doesn't need sleep. but he can pretend to do it for you. close his eyes, stay way too still (like robots do. LOL) and maybe even make little snoring noises. however, still, he'd prefer to simply lay down by your side and keep himself awake- just admiring how adorable you look like when you're asleep.

[superblysubpar]

return to main menu | Freaks Come Out At Night masterlist

Secret Moments, In a Crowded Room:

boyfried!eddie munson x fem!reader x steve harrington

summary: your boyfriend eddie and your shared "friend" steve start something messy with you | my blog and this fic are 18+ Only, NSFW

1058 words

the song: dress by Taylor Swift

The cool evening breeze drifting in through the open window carried freshly mown grass, autumn leaves, and a bonfire from down the road as it made the curtains in your bedroom flutter. Signs of people out and about, enjoying their last few nights of decent weather - meaning anyone could be walking by. Anyone could see. 

Obscene and filthy, wrong and dirty. 

Heavy air that smells like smoke and woods, his soap and his shampoo. Bodies coated in light sheens of sweat, pouted lips and flushed cheeks. Your chest heaving beneath his palms, cool metal soothing against heated skin. 

He had you settled between his spread legs, back to his now bare chest, the thrum of his heartbeat against your spine, a rhythm you locked onto for breathing to settle your nerves, or maybe excitement. Cold metal chain bumping against your shoulder as he leaned forward, fingers pulling at your nipples gently. Circling the bead and pinching just right, just how you liked it. 

Your legs thrown over his thighs, pulled apart wide for him to see and your toes curled into the bunched up sheets as his hand moved lower across your stomach. Eddie tutted into your neck as you threw your head back to rest on his shoulder.

“Nu-uh-uh,” he nosed at your cheek, singing, “Keep ‘em open sweetheart.”

As you lifted your head he pressed his lips to your ear. “Good girl,” kissing just below it, but never taking his eyes off of the foot of the bed. Eddie’s hand sunk lower and lower, until it hovered over your cunt, teasing until you whined and the other boy swallowed. 

Eddie laughed as your hands flew to his thighs, breath caught in your throat as one finger slid through your slick, parting your lips slowly. Eddie mouthed at your neck until you wiggled your hips and his other hand had to hold you in place, two fingers spreading you wider, putting on a show. He left your neck with a loud release of his lips, smirking against your shoulder. 

“Feels like my baby is pretty into this, what’s it look like?”

Your cheeks warmed, legs stretching and bending under the attention as Eddie laughed into your skin, pressing more encouraging kisses. 

The boy at the end of the bed stood before you both in just a pair of black boxers, stark against his tan skin that reminded you of the summer that was now over. New freckles and moles you’d never seen exposed to you, needing him closer so you could explore them all. His cheeks flushed pink, hand reaching up and running back through his auburn hair. Hooded eyes roaming over your body like you were a meal he was about to devour. 

As Eddie’s fingers spread you even wider, thick middle finger running up and down, teasing, Steve rested a knee on the mattress. The bed dipped with his weight as he pressed his palms flat, crawling up towards you as he swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing and you gushed around the thick digits, squeezing at Eddie’s thighs. 

Steve’s tongue jutted out over his bottom lip, tilting his head as he murmured, “She’s practically dripping on the bed for us, Munson.”

Both boys smirked at the noise you made at the observation. Steve’s eyes focused on Eddie’s fingers and Eddie’s on the look of admiration on Steve’s face as you squirmed, pushing back against his chest.

Steve’s fingers ghosted up your thigh, eyes finally roaming higher on your body to meet your gaze. He leaned forward, hand rising to cup your face. Long fingers and thumb holding your chin and jaw, hand so large it felt like it overtook you easily and your breath hitched. His eyes never leaving yours as he tsked, “Man, you sure you wanna let me fuck her? She’s so pretty, don’t know if you’ll get her back.”

It felt so wrong to be turned on by his soft tone that contrasted with the words leaving him. Feeling dirty from the way he pretended to ask Eddie instead of you, the way his compliment was making you roll your hips against Eddie’s fingers, desperate for more. 

Eddie laughed, still confident, “Go ahead Harrington, she’s not going anywhere.” His finger dipped lower finally, circling your entrance and drawing slick up to your clit and making you jolt forward. Fingers on Steve’s shoulders, noses bumping as Eddie followed, cooing in your ear, “Aww, baby, you want Steve to fuck you?”

A pathetic whine when Steve’s palms caressed up your thighs and he kept his lips hovered over yours, waiting, nose pressed into your cheek. Eddie cursed quietly, lips over your ear as he squeezed your waist, never stopping his attentive circles to your clit. His voice lowered, gravel and rasp as he breathed out, “Yeah? I want that too. Gonna watch him fuck my girl.”

Steve’s lips parted over yours as you gasped, both of Eddie’s hands squeezing at your waist as a new finger dipped inside of you, then a second quickly followed, longer and slimmer, curling a different way than your boyfriend’s in a way that had your brain going blank. Steve’s kiss is messy, mouth moving over yours hungry, sharp breaths into you as he licked at your lip, demanding more. Eddie sucked at your neck, teeth grazing over the wet skin and pulling when he heard Steve moan into your kiss, the wet sounds of your tongues meeting and his fingers slipping in and out of you. Your stomach coiled in a familiar taut band quickly from all the extra stimulation - two mouths, four hands, it’s too much. 

Eddie nipped at your ear, fingers bumping Steve’s as he took control of your throbbing clit again while the other boy kept up his steady pumps. Your hands reached for both, curled in the hair at Steve’s neck so he sucked on your bottom lip and made Eddie swear against the edge of your jaw. Your other back into Eddie’s hair, tugging him forward by his curls so he was whispering against your cheek. 

“Shit honey, yeah, I’ll let Steve fuck you. But only so you know I do it better.”

Steve’s smile against your lips had you parting in a laugh that Eddie joined in on. Lips and fingers quick to meet again, the three of you becoming a tangled mess. 

[bloatedandalone04]

Screaming Whispers

➪the one where anakin is a musician and you’re his muse.

Warnings: rockstar anakin, modern au, smut, fluff, swearing to the max, pda, unprotected sex, hair pulling, praise kink, small corruption kink, size sink, his bands name is 'screaming whispers' which translates to 'sw' for short...like sw for star wars??? and i didn’t even plan that, it just happened, jealousy (brief), possessive anakin, fingering, oral (f receiving), soft dom anakin, choking kink

Word Count: 6.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The lights were blinding and his ears were ringing, but Anakin wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. 

He couldn’t see much past the flashlights on the phones and the stage lights that flickered in time with the drums his bandmate, Vinny, was currently pounding on. Live shows were always so much better than being stuck in a recording studio all day, because at least out on stage Anakin could let out all his pent up frustration and no one would bat an eye.

Actually, the way he got so into his performance and really gave it his all had his fans absolutely losing their minds as they, too, fell under the control of the music and the lights and the lyrics. 

Anakin had only been in his band, Screaming Whispers, for just over a year now, but that was apparently enough time to get his and his friends’ names out there. One low budget album later and everyone knew about them, and really, Anakin had you to thank. 

You are his high school sweetheart, and have been his biggest supporter since the day he told you he wanted to do something with music and maybe try to make it his career. 

After writing countless drafts of songs that were all about you and his relationship with you, Anakin asked a couple of his friends who played instruments to rent out a recording studio to record one of the drafts he had actually finished. 

Anakin was the lead singer and guitarist, while his friend, Vinny, played the drums, and his other friend, Theo, played bass.  

It came out sounding decent and Anakin ended up editing it himself before uploading it to his burner account on Youtube, choosing some random photo he had taken of your hand holding his as the thumbnail. 

Within a few days, the video only had about thirty views, and he knew most of them were from you.

When he had first let you listen to the song with a nervous expression gracing his features, he was worried when you didn’t say anything during the whole two minutes and forty six seconds it played for. 

It ended and you turned to him, an unreadable look on your face before you were throwing yourself at him. He had never seen you so needy and desperate for him (unless he counted the very first time you and he slept together), and you spent the rest of the night loving on him because he had written you a song. 

Your boyfriend of over three years at that point had actually made a whole song about you. How could you not tear his clothes off right then and there?

A few more weeks had passed when Anakin randomly decided to see how the video was doing. He was bored and you were at class, and he had grown tired of walking around your shared apartment on campus by himself. 

When he clicked on the video, he was sure he had accidentally clicked the wrong one when he saw that it had gone from thirty views to ninety eight thousand views. It had over forty thousand likes and just under a thousand comments, all of which were praising him and the guys for how good the song is. 

You once again jumped his bones a few hours later when he showed you it, muttering something about how you knew people would like the song once it got more exposure. 

A month later, it had nearly a million views and Anakin was left to assume that the song had gone viral on a different platform that resulted in people searching the song up on Youtube. He didn’t go on TikTok or Instagram as he had no desire to, but was informed by Theo that the song actually did become super popular on TikTok and that was how so many people had found the video on his Youtube. 

Since it had gotten way more attention than he had ever expected it to, Anakin quickly changed the channel name from ‘Manakin 246’ to ‘Screaming Whispers’. It was the first thing he thought of and both Vinny and Theo agreed to call themselves that if they were to ever record another song together. 

Well, just a few days after that, the trio was contacted by a record label and a week later, they were signed onto Dynamic Studios as an official band. 

It all happened so fast. Anakin was encouraged to finish and edit his previous drafts, and that was how he found himself recording a whole album with most of the songs being about you. Vinny and Theo helped out a lot with the songs, but insisted Anakin be credited as the lead songwriter, since the whole thing was his idea. 

The album was called ‘Taking Back October’, and it had been streamed over three million times over various music sites. That, of course, resulted in a tour being booked, and that was where he is now. 

A full year after uploading that song and three months of being on tour, Anakin could safely say he was meant to do this. 

But the best part of it all? He had you watching him from your spot backstage, the biggest smile on your lips whenever he looked over at you from his place on the center of the stage. 

From where you stood, he looked to be having the time of his life. He looked so in his element, so confident and comfortable, and not to mention unbelievably attractive. 

You found yourself biting your lip as you hid away from the crowd. Part of you wondered how he did it, how he was so at home in front of thousands of strangers, but you supposed some people were just meant for the spotlight, and Anakin is definitely one of those people. 

You definitely were not, as just the mere thought of stepping out onto the stage would send you into a full blown panic attack. And Anakin knew that, so despite him wanting to show you off to the world and to his fans - he couldn’t believe he actually has fans - he knew better than to shove you into the limelight like that. 

For now, you were comfortable backstage, two lanyards around your neck that told everyone you were a guest on the tour, and that you were allowed backstage. 

As you watched your boyfriend play and sing his heart out to his song Homecoming Queen, one of the stage crew members came waltzing up to you, a kind yet flirtatious smile on his lips. “Hi,” he said over the loud live music. 

“Hi,” you called back, never taking your eyes off Anakin. 

The guy looked down at your tour and backstage passes, a smirk growing on his lips. “You a friend of the bands?”

That made you glance over at him, and you were immediately uncomfortable at the way he was looking at you. “Something like that,” you answer, and it was true - Vinny and Theo had also gone to high school with you, but they were closer to Anakin, obviously - but the crew member didn’t seem too convinced. “I’m dating the lead singer, this song is actually about me.” You try again and watch as his eyes grow wide before he’s looking on stage and at your boyfriend.

He meets Anakin’s blue orbs, and right away you could see a hint of possessiveness in them, similar to the look he’d give other guys when they looked at you for a little too long back in high school. 

The crew guy just backs away and leaves you alone, making you grin over at your boyfriend. Anakin just smirks before he is back to singing the chorus, all while never falling out of tune with the rest of the band. 

Even though you were buzzing with excitement for what’s in store for you once he’s off the stage and you’d have him all to yourself, you couldn’t deny how attractive he looks on stage. 

The show had been going on for just over an hour, and they would be wrapping up soon. Anakin’s skin was coated in a light layer of sweat, and the leather jacket he had been wearing when he had first walked out on stage had long since been discarded. His muscles flexed under the flashing lights as he effortlessly played his electric guitar and sang his heart out. 

You were sure his throat was raw, but he didn’t stop, and the fans were loving it. You also couldn’t take your eyes off the way the muscles in his neck strained as he reached the higher notes of the song, and you had to press your thighs together to feel some sort of relief for the pressure that had been steadily building up. 

After another ten minutes or so, the band wrapped up the performance and left the stage, leaving the fans still screaming in the stands. After Anakina picked up his jacket he tossed near the drum kit, he handed his guitar to the same stage crew member who had been talking to you, before he wrapped his free arm around your waist. 

Your hands were barely touching either side of his face before he was kissing you deeply, the hand that held his jacket moving to grip your waist. Anakin pulled you closer to him, his adrenaline making his body ache for yours in hopes to find some sort of relief for the energy that surged through him. 

“You were amazing out there,” you praised against his mouth, wanting nothing more than to poke your tongue out and run it up the side of his damp neck. “Like always.”

“Thank you, pretty girl,” he murmured, brushing his lips against yours before dipping his head down to kiss your neck. His hands bunched up the thin fabric of your loose sundress, the flowery print making his want for you skyrocket. “You look hot.”

You laugh, glancing down at the simple dress that seemed to turn him on as if it was the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. “You look hot,” you say back and brush his slightly wet hair away from his forehead. You had to crane your neck a bit to be able to gaze up into his blue eyes, due to the sheer size difference between the two of you. The physical evidence of just how different you two are, even down to your height, had you pressing your thighs together again. 

He wore dark clothes, most of which are adorned with chains, and his left arm was showing off a steadily growing sleeve of tattoos of random things - a lightsaber, a  couple quotes, more than a few vulgar images, and most importantly, an outline of a heart with the initial of your first name inside it on his bicep. His wardrobe consisted of jeans, muscle tees, leather and jean jackets, and vintage - though sometimes graphic - shirts. He wore black boots or converse to tie off every outfit, completed with a couple of wristbands, rings and his signature necklace chain with your initials on the small charm. 

You wore light colors, dresses and skirts that allowed you to show off the soft skin of your legs. Your body was bare of tattoos, with the exception of an ‘A’ on the side of your left wrist. Gold and silver jewelry were always on your wrist or around your neck, and you often wore flats or sneakers that went well with the rest of your look.

It was a big difference between the two of you, one that had been there since you were both seventeen, and it was what drew you into one another to begin with. 

He looked intimidating, scary, even, but you found out that he had the sweetest heart, and he had given it to you.

“I am hot,” he grinned down at you, and the double meaning had you shaking your head as he stepped away from you and placed his jacket over your shoulders. He looked you up and down, biting down harshly on his bottom lip as his hands found their home on your waist again. The black leather contrasted against your light dress in such a sinful way, Anakin almost let out a groan at the sight. “Fuck, I can’t wait to take you back to the hotel after this.”

The band was playing two shows in D.C., so their manager went out of her way to book them a hotel for the night. It saved them from sleeping on the tour bus, which was surprisingly difficult to do, and Anakin could usually fall asleep anywhere. 

He once fell asleep sitting down with his back pressed up against a washing machine in the laundry room at your apartment while he was waiting for the load to dry. He probably would’ve been sleeping for at least another half hour, had another resident not woken him up because he was sleeping against the only available washing machine. 

But, for some reason, Anakin found that sleeping on a tour bus was next to impossible, even though he was given the only double bed because he had you with him.

So, in an attempt to get himself tired, he would spend a good hour with you in bed once he and the band got back on the bus after a show. 

He could only imagine how happy Theo and Vinny are at the fact that they won’t have to listen to the two of you going at it for at least one of the two hundred and fifty nights they spent on tour. 

“Yeah? You excited to spend a night with me in an actual room instead of a bus?” You teased, wrapping your arms around his shoulders when his wrapped around your waist and pulled your body right up against his. 

“I’m so fucking excited,” he answered, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as the stage crew walked around the two of you to begin packing up the equipment. He leaned down so his lips were brushing against your ear as he whispered, “We can be as loud as we want. I can’t wait to make you scream.”

You refrain from moaning in a public place, ignoring how dumb that sounded when you thought about how loud you got on a tour bus that had only a single, thin door that separated yours and Anakin’s room from the other guys. 

This man made you crazy in all the best possible ways. “Well,” you say back, tugging him impossibly closer by the hem of his white tee shirt. “What are you waiting for? An encore?”

Anakin groaned quietly, cursing under his breath when he felt your hand slide up the heated skin of his torso. “Fuck no,” he muttered, taking your hand in his and guiding you towards the exit door that would lead the two of you out to the parking lot. “I think if everyone in that audience could see just how good you look right now, they wouldn’t blame me for not going back out there and taking you to bed.”

You smirked a bit as he pulled you onto the bus with him and towards your room to indulge in a makeout session before he would give you the real thing once you got to the hotel. 

A short ten minute drive later, and Anakin was painfully aware of just how hard he’s gotten since your quick encounter backstage, followed by your intense making out that took place on the bus. 

Once his manager had given him the key to his room, Anakin pulled you along with him as he made his way to the elevator, pushing the button for the twelfth floor when he was in it. 

He leaned back against the wall as the numbers above the doors increased with every passing second. His lips were on yours in messy and noisy kisses, his hands sliding down to lift the bottom of your dress up as if you weren’t still in a public place, and were probably being recorded because every elevator seemed to have cameras nowadays. 

Once it stopped at the twelfth floor, Anakin easily picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, his hand placed firmly on your back to prevent your dress from slipping up and exposing you to anyone who might enter the hall while he carried you to the room.

He inserted the keycard for room 1209 with his free hand, before tossing it onto the table in the entryway. Anakin’s hands grip your waist after he sets you down and he turns your body away from him, his fingers sliding up your back and pushing your hair to the side. He unclasps the gold necklace he had bought you a few nights ago from a cute store you and he stumbled upon while you were out sightseeing. 

Anakin gently sets the chain down onto the table as well and places a few kisses to the back of your neck before he guides you forward and towards the king sized bed. “Look at that, baby,” he murmurs in your ear, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Since you had discarded his jacket back on the bus, his lips had free rein over the skin of your shoulders and neck as he sucked a few light marks onto it. “It’s bigger than our bed we have at home.”

Home. It seemed like so long ago, when in reality, Screaming Whispers had only been on tour for three months now. Anakin planned on using the money he would get from the tour and the shows to officially move in with you, in your own house, not a student apartment that was on the campus of his old college. 

You were still a student there, but had opted to get all your assignments done before the tour so you could save yourself from having to give up the school year. 

Humming, you lean back against his body. “We still need to get our bags from the bus,” 

Anakin sucked on the skin of your jaw as his hands pulled at the thin fabric of your dress. “I’ll get our stuff later,” he promised, sliding his hands up the front of your body, making chills take over you as he gripped your chest. “You look so fucking pretty, baby.” 

You hum again, closing your eyes when you feel one of his hands inch lower and lower until it disappears underneath your dress. “Just for you, Ani,” you whispered as he softly rubbed your clit through the thin lace of your panties. 

He kissed your shoulder in appreciation as his hand slipped past the lace, his ring-clad middle finger dipping into your heat. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he nearly moaned, his free arm wrapping around your middle when he felt your body slump back against his. “So wet for me.”

“Ani,” you gasped quietly, moaning when he began to pump his finger in and out of you. The lace restricted him from going super hard, but he much rather preferred to work you up to that, anyway. “Fuck, it’s all for you. You looked so hot tonight.”

“You look hot, too, pretty girl,” he mumbled and removed his hand from your panties as he spun your body around so your chest was pressed to his. “I saw the way that crew guy was looking at you.”

You moaned quietly when his knee separated your legs, his thigh rubbing against your core through his jeans. “I said I was with you,” you weakly say, gripping his biceps tightly when his hands found your waist and began sliding your body up and down his thigh. “Said I’m yours.”

“You are mine,” he rasped, pressing a searing kiss to your lips before he gently shoved you away. The backs of your knees hit the end of the bed and you fall back onto it, your dress slipping up past your thighs and revealing the pastel pink lace that covered your core. “You’ve been mine since we were seventeen.”

You bite down harshly on your lip when he pulls the lace down your legs and drops it to the floor. “Oh, fuck,” you mumbled when he ran his tongue up your folds, eagerly collecting your wetness. 

Anakin glanced up at you, his eyes narrowing at the way you were refraining from being too loud. “No, Y/n,” he says sternly, bringing a hand up to slide his index and middle fingers into you. “We have this whole room to ourselves. I want you to be as loud as you can fucking get.”

Almost instantly a loud moan escapes you when he sucks on your clit, your back arching slightly when he began to fuck his fingers into you. Those skilled fingers, the same ones that had so effortlessly played the guitar in front of thousands of people just a half hour before. “Fuck, Ani. Fuck,” you whined.

Anakin smirked against you, curling his fingers once they are knuckle deep within you. The calloused tips brush against your walls and make you squeeze your eyes shut, finding it hard to believe that a year before all this, the skin of his fingers was smooth and gentle as he only played guitar in his free time before he made a career out of it.

Over a year of playing it non-stop had hardened his fingers and was a blessing in disguise, as they had never felt better when they were buried deep within you. 

“God, it feels so good,” you whimpered as he traced the letters of his name with his tongue onto your clit. “So fucking good, Ani.”

He hummed, sending vibrations up your core and making your mind go into a frenzy. “Louder, baby,” he softly demanded, moving back up your body and hovering over you while his hand picks up the pace a bit. “I want this whole floor to complain about us tomorrow.”

You were so turned on, you couldn’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed about the sounds your core was making as his fingers plunged into it repeatedly. Not that Anakin ever let you feel embarrassed about it, seeing as he prided himself on how wet he makes you every time he goes out on stage. 

“I know you want it, too,” he continues as he stared down at your fucked out expression. “Admit it.”

“I want it,” you managed to say as his thumb began rubbing circles on your clit in time with his fingers. The coolness from his ring contrasted against your searing heat, making the knot in your abdomen steadily form. 

Anakin smirked down at you, leaning in to run his tongue along the skin under your ear. “Want what?” 

“God,” you groaned as he pumped his fingers in and out of you at a brutal pace. “I want everyone on this floor to know who makes me feel so good, Anakin. I want them all to complain about how loud we are.”

Anakin was satisfied with your answer, “That’s my girl,” and he leaned down to begin sucking various marks onto the skin of your neck, the sounds you were emitting going straight to his dick that throbbed against his jeans. He didn’t think he could ever get tired of hearing all the sweet sounds you made just for him, and had been making for him since you were in high school. 

“Anakin,” you moaned, lifting your hips in time with the movement of his hand. “Please, please, don’t stop.” Your lips brushed against his as you begged him to keep fucking you with his skilled fingers. 

He hummed, kissing you deeply. “You gonna come for me?” He asked, already knowing the answer as he felt the way you clenched around his fingers every time your walls sucked him back in. 

“Yes,” you nearly whispered, a crease forming in your brow as the coil in your stomach was a mere few seconds away from snapping. “Please.”

“Come for me, pretty girl,” he requested, his voice deep and sultry next to your ear. “I want it all over my hand.”

You were unable to deny him his wish as you came hard, your thighs shaking slightly and your mouth opening to let out a long and loud moan. Your head dipped back into the middle of the bed, your fingers twisting tightly in the soft comforter as he slowed down the thrusts of his hand until you were whimpering quietly. 

“Just like that, baby,” he praised, kissing you once before removing his fingers from inside you. He brings his hand up to his mouth and sucks the digits clean as he moves back down your body. Anakin licked a single strip up your slick core before standing up, smirking at the way your whole body shook at the action. 

You weakly propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him pull his belt from his jean loops. He drops it to the floor, the sound of the buckle hitting the hardwood making your head swim with thoughts of what’s in store for you next.  

“Take that pretty dress off, baby,” he said under his breath, reaching behind him to pull off the white tee and leaving it to join the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You quickly lifted yourself up so you were kneeling on the bed, your hands fumbling to tug off your dress. Anakin gives you a soft smirk at how obedient you always are for him as you tossed the dress off the side of the bed, kicking his jeans down his legs and leaving him in his tight boxer briefs. 

You gave him a look that nearly had him falling to the floor as he moved forward and kneeled on the bed in front of you, making you crane your neck to be able to stare up at him. Your hands reach up and tug on the hair on the back of his neck, pulling his head down so his mouth could meet yours. 

Moaning quietly against his lips, you arch your back when you feel his hands slide up to unclasp your matching pink bra. He pulled it from your body, leaving you completely bare to his lust filled eyes. He let out a low growl as his hands slid back down to your hips. “Lay back, pretty girl,”

You oblige quickly, laying further up on the bed and resting against the soft pillows. “Please, Anakin,” you whined as he rubbed his still covered dick against your heat. “Fuck me.”

Anakin groaned as he shoved his boxers down, gripping your thighs and tugging them up until they were draped over his. “I’ll fuck you, baby,” he promised, running his tip over your wetness and coating himself in it. “I’ll fuck you so good, make sure everyone knows who made you come.”

“Fuck, yes,” you gasped just as he thrusted himself into you without warning, making you reach out to grip his forearms. Still on his knees, Anakin began fucking into you at a brutal pace, pouring all his leftover energy from the show into the way his hips hit yours. “God, yes.”

Anakin gripped your waist tightly, his eyes drifting from the way your breasts bounced with each thrust to your face as it twisted up in pleasure. “Say my name,” he demanded, burying himself to the brim and pausing there.

Your body tensed up, your stomach muscles flexing as he kept your hips pressed to his. “Anakin,”

“Louder,” he ordered, repeating the action. 

“Anakin!” You shouted, and it was followed by a string of moans as he resumed rocking his body against your own. “God, Anakin, you’re so deep. So deep in me.”

He grunted at your filthy words, the faint sound of the headboard hitting the wall making the whole scene look like it was straight out of a porno. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well,” he praised, reaching one hand up to pinch at your sensitive nipples. He felt you clench around him as he worked on hardening your peaks, his pace faltering just slightly at the tightness of your walls. “Always take me so well.”

“I love you, Anakin,” you whimpered, arching your back and pushing your chest up against his hand. 

He groaned at your sweet words, placing his hands flat against the comforter on either side of your head from where he knelt above you. “I love you so much,” he said back, speeding up his pace. “I’ve loved you for four years now, baby.”

“Nearly five,” you reminded him with a cry of pleasure. “We’ve been together for almost five years, Ani.”

“I know, princess,” he murmurs, leaning further down to press his lips to yours in a gentle kiss, a big contrast to the way his lower body was currently destroying yours. “How could I ever forget about the day you became mine?” 

“Best day of my life,” you mumbled when he leaned back again, digging his knees into the bed as he all but railed into you. “Fuck, you feel so good, Anakin.”

“You’re so tight,” he responded, making your stomach twist with a need to please him forever. You were vaguely aware of the loud smacking of the headboard now, and the way the picture that hung above the bed was tapping with each thrust of his hips. It only fueled your desire for him as your hands gripped the comforter once again. 

Your previous orgasm rendered you a bit more sensitive than normal, so you weren’t all that surprised to feel that knot begin to tighten once more. “Fuck, you’re going to make me come again,”

“Yeah? You’re going to come all over me again?” He mocked slightly, only making your head swim with dizziness at how dirty the whole event is. “I want it. Come all over me, pretty girl, nice and messy.”

Your eyes rolled back just a bit when he reached one hand up to press his fingers against the base of your neck. A strangled moan escaped you as you clenched helplessly around him.

You didn’t think you would ever get used to how he was in bed, versus how he  was out of it. He was sweet, kind and caring with you outside the bedroom, but inside it he was rough, loud and determined to get you off in any way he possibly could. The difference was almost too much to handle. 

A few more deep thrusts later and your core was flooding around him, noisily sucking him in deeper and alerting him of your second orgasm. “That’s it, baby,” he praised, watching as his dick became even more coated in your wetness. It spurred him to speed up the pace so he could reach his own release. “Good fucking girl.”

“Anakin,” you struggled to say as your body shook with overstimulation. “Ani, come, baby, please.”

It wasn’t the first time he had you begging him to come in you, but it still had his head going fuzzy for a second or two, as well as made him twitch inside you. “You want it?” He asked through a clenched jaw, his neck muscles straining as he tried to hold off for a little bit longer. 

“Yes,” you answered, powerless against his sharp thrusts as you took each one. “I want it so bad.”

“Fuck, princess,” he muttered, his pace slowing down as his own release flooded through him. With a couple slow thrusts into your greedy core, he fucked his seed deep within you. 

He falls onto the bed next to you a few seconds later, his chest heaving and a light layer of sweat adorning his skin, mirroring the way he looked on stage an hour or so prior to this. 

Anakin was a lot more drained now than he was before, and he knew that if he were to stay in bed for much longer he would probably pass out with you wrapped in his arms. 

He lifted himself up and pressed a soft kiss to your mouth, murmuring an “I’ll be right back,” against it before he dressed himself in his shirt and jeans, grabbing the keycard on his way out to retrieve both yours and his bags from the bus. 

-

The next day, after spending most of the morning wrapped up in the sheets together, you and Anakin finally decided to get up. 

Kind of.

He was currently propped against the headboard, eating a piece of toast with you on his lap. His acoustic guitar he brought with him was placed in your lap as you softly ran your fingers against the strings, leaning back against his bare chest. You were nowhere near as talented as he is with the instrument, and you knew it would sound awful if you were to try and play it without his guidance. 

“Mm,” he hummed when you plucked one of the strings at his request, tossing the crust of the toast onto the plate that was next to him on the bed. He would usually be more careful so there wouldn’t be any crumbs in the sheets, but he was checking out of the hotel before tonight’s show, so he decided to leave it to the cleaning staff as he knew they would be washing the sheets anyway. “That’s the B string, baby, not the D string.”

“And I’m supposed to know that…how?” You asked as he wrapped his arms around your middle. 

“Well, I’ve only been playing guitar for the entire length of our relationship,” he teased as he placed his right hand over yours. He guided your thumb to one of the middle strings and gently brushed it against it. Of course, it sounded a lot better because he was the one who controlled how much pressure and the pace of your thumb against the string. “That’s the D string.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes at the cockiness in his voice as you strummed along the string again, this time sounding a bit better than before. 

“There you go,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as a reward. “That was good.”

You turn your head to give him a small glare. “You’ve never been a good liar,” you mutter. “Especially when it comes to lying to me, it’s why you could never get away with cheating.”

Anakin scoffed, “I would never,”

You shake your head with a dumb grin on your lips as he guides your fingers to strum the tune he had been going over in his head for the past few days. You let him take full control over the way he moved your fingers, noting the soft humming of an unfamiliar song leaving the back of his throat. “New song, Ani?” 

He shrugged from his spot behind you, leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, your tank top doing very little to cover your skin from him. “Maybe,” he answers as he begins to kiss up your neck, not even needing to look down at the strings to be able to play them perfectly. 

It made you a bit lightheaded, how hot and talented he truly is. “What’s it going to be about?” You ask, eyes glued to the way he effortlessly helped you play the guitar while also holding a conversation with you. His talent always surprised you, despite knowing early on how skilled he is with the instrument. 

“You, obviously,” he replied and you rolled your eyes. “What else would I write a song about?”

“You’re too much,” you say and he laughs quietly, agreeing with you as he goes back to mumbling potential lyrics in your ear. 

A few hours go by and it’s nearing the time for Anakin and the band to head onto stage. He smoothes out his graphic tee and smirks at the way you cowered behind the large speaker, eyeing him with your lip caught between your teeth. 

“God, Ani, you look good,”

“Me?” He asked and reached his hand out to you, pulling you into his arms once you took it. He played with the end of your pink and white skirt, eye fucking you a mere few minutes before he had to go perform in front of thousands of people. “I bet Vin and Theo are so jealous that it was me who got to take you to bed last night, in an actual room.”

You loosely wrap your arms around his shoulders, gazing up at him. “I bet all your fans are jealous that it’s going to be me who gets you all to herself after the show,”

Anakin hummed lowly, pressing a kiss to the skin under your ear. “I’d be jealous, too, if the hottest girl took me home,” he rasped. “Or in our case, took me back to that stupid bus.”

You laughed, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. Since you had applied a cute pink lip to go with your skirt, a stain was left on his skin when you pulled away. “Oh, sorry,” you say and lift your hand up, but pause when his fingers wrap around your wrist. 

“Don’t you dare try to wipe that off,” he ordered with a smirk. “I think it completes my look.”

And it really did. A black snapback was placed backwards on his head, a vintage shirt covered his chest and exposed his sleeve of tattoos, dark jeans with a few chains connected to the belt loops hugged his legs, and black boots gave him the daunting appearance of someone who was born to be on stage. 

The pink lipstick mark only added to the whole thing.

“Okay,” you swallow harshly, stepping away once Vinny handed him his guitar. “Have a good show.”

“I love you,” he called out as he placed the strap over his shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.”

When he made his grand entrance, the crowd seemed even louder than normal, and you could only hope at least some of them were able to see your mark on his cheek as you hid behind the speaker and watched your boyfriend get lost in his element.

-

Series based off this fic

[alex-thegiraffeboyy]

Bewitched | Vi x reader

Chapter 1: Let You Break My Heart Again.

Summary: She has always been in love with Vi (although sometimes she wishes she wasn't) and only hopes that someday she will be able to prove or overcome her feelings for her.

Words: 1,1k

Bewitched Masterlist

She hasn't been feeling like herself lately.

It´s no wonder why when all she can think about is her. In her iron blue eyes. In her pink hair always slicked back (she still can't figure out how she does it). In the stained bandages and bruised knuckles, and well... her. In her best friend. Violet. Although calling her that these days is usually subject to a more serious or intimate connotation, so just Vi. Either way, lately all she can think about lately is her and her indomitable (though sometimes cute) personality.

Honestly, she doesn't think they are both on the same page. I mean...they're always in a constant battle for their survival and to prove themselves in order to get better jobs that would allow them to have a little more money to bring something more solid to the table and....

Anyway, a never-ending cycle. The law of the strongest, I guess.

... But back to the point; Being in this constant circle of survival everyone had built walls in order to survive, to be stronger, safer. More mature (even though they were all just a bunch of kids playing at being adults). And if anyone within her adoptive family knew about being strong it was Vi. Both physically and mentally Vi was a tough machine to crack. Always so defensive, taking raw initiative. She was tough, fast, always confident in herself. But she was also very protective. At least as far as Powder was concerned (Not that she didn't love her other foster siblings, she just trusted them more to take care of themselves, she didn't blame them either, she had her own brother to take care of). To her there was nothing more important than her sister and a decent life for her. For all of them. Her included. And Violet was her best friend, her confidant, the person with she could let down the walls a little and let her vulnerability show. They're both about the same age (Vi is two months older, but who cares about that? -clearly Vi-). But that was it. Best friends. Sometimes almost bordering on sisters, but that never seemed to be the right term. Not when the line of their friendship sometimes became blurred (for her at least).

There were nights when the two of them would stay up late talking on the roof of an old, worn-out building that hadn't worked for years. Sometimes they would share their emotions about some event that had happened during the day or the week, other times they just liked to talk about how each one of them had fared during the time they had not seen each other, they would make jokes and remember anecdotes from years ago, when they were younger. On those cool nights on the rooftop she could sometimes notice his gaze lingered on her a little longer as they enjoyed the silence and the breeze (or maybe it was hers that lingered the longest and it was Vi who caught her in the act, who knows).

Other days, when they had free time and were tired, Vi insisted that the two of them lie together in the small bed Benzo had given her when he adopted her along with Ekko or in the rickety bunk bed Vi shared with Powder. She insisted that their body heat helped her relax, so sometimes they would simply lie down to rest cuddled up next to each other (there were even times when exhaustion got the better of them and they would fall asleep sitting next to each other).

I could give you a thousand and one more examples, but what good would that do?

The point is that with every little interaction (but even more so with the intimate and vulnerable) her heart seemed to want to burst out of her chest and create its own band to play love songs in her honor. Her empty stomach filled with butterflies that threatened to escape down her throat into her mouth and out in the form of sweet words and unspoken sentiments to keep company with the loud melody her heart created. Her breath hitched at times and her cheeks... My God... She should stop deluding herself in the face of these one-sided feelings and insignificant interactions.

Heaven knows you've tried

Maybe one day she'll stop being in love with Violet (I wish she wouldn't)

Maybe one day someone will come to love her like she loves Vi (But I wish you'd love me)

But until then she will prevent his heart from creating melodies and lock the butterflies in a little box. She will keep pretending it's all in his head, and secretly imagine loving her as she desires, and let her break her heart over and over again (even if she does it unwillingly).

Though she's just trying to understand what she is to Vi. Beyond the heartfelt conversations at midnight, beyond the beautiful Piltover sunsets they sometimes watched from the roof of some building after a job (sometimes in the company of her brothers, sometimes alone) and the stolen glances. She doesn't want to cry about it, she has so many more things to worry about, and yet she feels so overwhelmed and confused, adding her one-sided feelings to the imaginary list of things that stress her out.

If only she knew how she felt....

But probably nothing would change, maybe it would just make it worse...

Maybe one day she would stop being in love with Vi and her bold personality.

Maybe someday someone will love her as much as she loves every freckle and blemish on her face.

But until then she will keep silent. She will enjoy their moments together and lock the band of her heart inside her chest while the butterflies are bound in chains in the depths of her stomach. She'll pretend the feelings aren't there, that he doesn't see that look on her face from time to time, and of course, she'll give her her heart so she can do it and undo it with sweet actions or harsh words.

Someday...

One day.

She will be able to get over her feelings for her best friend and find someone else.

But until she does... She will think about how to heal her wounds without causing her so much pain. She'll look for ways to show her love for her without ever having to tell her she loves her (at least not in a romantic way). And she'll let her break her heart again.

At least before she puts it back together again.

Life doesn't end at fourteen... does it?

[strawberrystepmom]

yami x f!noble reader. nsfw, ageless blogs and minors get blocked on sight. banter, some feelings for flavor. | wc 714, divider by @cafekitsune

you can read more about these two here

“Y’know, you’re a surprisingly decent good luck charm.” Yami sucks his teeth while tying off the heavy bag of coin he managed to accrue throughout the night downstairs, “I think people have a hard time lyin’ to that face.”

He cups your cheeks and you giggle, shaking your head. Your eyes dart from him to the bag of coins next to him, raising a brow with a wry smile. “Except for you?”

One of his thumbs rubs a small pattern on your chin, just below your lower lip, savoring the feel of soft skin beneath the rough pad. He scoffs and mirrors your raised brow with one of his own, gazing down at you with a smirk. 

“You’re about the only person I haven’t lied to tonight,” he mutters, quickly moving onto his self-defensive next statement. “Besides, it isn’t lying, it’s gambling. They’re different.”

Now you raise both brows and turn your back to him, the laces of your dress revealed to him. Wordlessly he goes to work, used to this old song and dance by this point, the noise of the tavern downstairs only barely muffled by the floor and the walls of the room you’re in. He unties each lace with far more care than he would have in the past, chin resting on your shoulder, no longer needing to look down to check his work. 

He’s too used to this, perhaps, or maybe that’s just a thought for another night. 

“I know you don’t gamble because of the whole serious and perfect thing.” You scoff, turning your head to show your offense at his statement. He kisses your cheek and you back down immediately, shoulders rolling into him. “So what do you do for fun?”

This draws a true laugh from you, open mouthed and shoulders shaking. Your dress loosens and Yami slips the sleeves down, slowly peeling the rest of it down until it’s around your hips, leaving your chest exposed. Your breasts bounce with each laugh and he kisses your shoulder, cupping them gently from beneath. 

“Well, for an obvious instance, I come to see you.”

Chuckling appreciatively, he kisses your shoulder a second time. What was once cupping has now become kneading and you feel compelled to let him continue rather than fuss at him to stop, leaning back against his broad body. 

“When you are occupied, I tend to enjoy spending time at the tea parlor and before you judge me, know that it is a wonderful place to learn more than you thought possible about everyone around you.” He hums and you continue, hissing when he runs a thumb over each of your now hardened nipples. “I also learn a great deal from the children I tend to. Not merely my siblings but their friends and the young women I teach as well. Children are so much more open than their parents.”

Another kiss on your shoulder, followed by one trailing up the juncture where shoulder and neck meet, a third against the side of your neck and the last just below your ear, his voice rumbling against rose scented skin.

“So you’re a gossip?”

Now it’s your turn to laugh appreciatively, reaching over your shoulder to run your fingers through his hair and tug at it gently. A little throaty groan leaves him and you continue your ministrations, massaging his scalp and playing with the strands wrapped around your fingers. 

“If that’s what you’d like to call it, so be it. I say it’s no different from your game of lying.”

Another hum. He nips at your earlobe, distracting himself with your flesh to keep from saying what’s really on his mind. 

“Sometimes I think we’re more alike than you realize, kid.”

Maybe it’s time to revisit that whole too comfortable conversation after all, his mouth running before he can stop himself. You tug at his hair once again, your face warming beneath his praise.

“Now c’mon, my face is gettin’ cold and I know just what will warm it up.”

Yami pats your ass playfully while finally standing to tower over you, turning while removing his shirt. 

“Incorrigible man.” You roll your eyes, unable to bite back your smile while stepping out of your loose dress, kicking the fabric aside while following behind him.

[wintersoulwitch]

Stage/Fright second viewing - changes/things I noticed

Right finally home after that epic cross-country slog via National Express! Currently feeling like I never want to leave my house ever again... but we all know I'm checking the box office website every day in case another decently priced Saturday ticket appears... And now thinking that other events (eg BFI screenings) that I'd previously written off as impossible are more attainable than I'd thought.

Anyway, enough about me. You're here for Stage/Fright deets.

This time I was in the Grand Circle, so way up at the top. I was able to see the whole stage at once, unlike during my first viewing. And I could see that there were bronze hare ears poking up from one of the boxes!

The violinists were in matching sequined gowns - they looked sort of plum-coloured? And when they played the intro to act 1, there were shadows projected onto the red theatre curtain, like the chair with restraints that is used in act 2.

This time I noticed that Toby (Reece's understudy) came on stage first, then left and was replaced by Reece. That totally passed me by during my first watch, and I think it was because I was just so excited to recognise/realise that they were doing the "theatre audience" material, and then once Reece was in front of me my brain short-circuited and wiped all thoughts apart from "omg he's so beautiful."

I don't know if this is a change, or if I wasn't able to see them clearly last time, but I noticed spotlights being used to highlight people at various points. Like, when R&S did their opening talk to the audience after the intro there was a large spotlight on the both of them when they were centre stage, and it split into two smaller separate follow spots when they moved apart.

I spotted a couple of differences/tweaks in the BCDR/Kidnappers section in the first half - I'll do a separate post about that.

During the Elements Song this time I saw that different jars and bottles on the shelves lit up as Reece pointed at them: "And iodine 💡 and thorium 💡 and thulium 💡and thallium 💡"

They've changed the wheelchair that Reece uses in Act 2. During the first night preview (which I didn't attend), Reece was brought on to the stage and then restrained in the chair. In the show I saw last week, he was already in the wheelchair, and it was this big wooden thing. This time, it's a smaller and simpler metal wheelchair. And it makes the leg-cutting illusion look better, honestly! Much harder to see where Reece might be hiding his real leg.

They’ve changed the script a bit at the end before the final song and dance number - now instead of the bus joke, Reece hurries Steve off stage and says "you’ve got a really quick change." And then walks to the front of the stage, picks up the fallen light that "killed" Steve and says "it’s time for some light entertainment."

And some stuff that people asked me to keep an eye out for... R&S touching each other. They don’t touch in the opening section, and then in BCDR it’s just when Len smacks Tommy on the arse (and Tommy goes "ooh hoo!" and does a little jump). The most touching is during the bit in the 2nd act when Steve breaks character and hugs Reece. The hug goes on for a while and when Steve pulls back he leaves his hand on Reece’s chest/holding on to the cardigan Reece is wearing for a moment like he doesn’t want to let go. During the song and dance at the end, at the bit where he jokes "Reece Shearsmith stole my diary," Steve does put his hand on Reece’s shoulder/back of neck in that way he does. And then during the final curtain call they hold hands before the bow. Just R&S at first, then they hold hands with the rest of the cast.

Oh and after Reece says "maybe every ghost story is really just a love story" and there's that long pause... they are staring into each others' eyes the whole time. And the carnations... There's been a change! During the final song and dance the men have different flowers in their buttonholes. They were definitely carnations the first time I saw them - and I assume real ones otherwise they wouldn’t have changed them - but the flowers this time were more like floofy white puffs of silk in a flower shape.

I also wanted to note that they seemed much more comfortable with the song and dance routine this time. They weren't awkward before by any means, but they've definitely relaxed into it and really seem to be having fun. I think giving Steve a bit more time to change has helped (the first time I saw them, Steve's shirt front rolled up a bit to show his black top underneath). We all know Reece is a mover (he could have won Strictly, you know! And not just as the comedy one!) and it was super lovely to see him getting into it and doing all his little leg kicks and hand waves. He really seemed to be enjoying himself.

Finally at the very end, when they do the final "laughter is my memory of you" they now start off like they're going to point at each other, then pause and spin to the audience instead. Which is a really nice touch!

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

okay so TENATIVE predictions for season 4: it looks like they're going to be playing into the mandela effect. half the universe remembers the umbrella timeline, half the universe remembers the sparrow timeline, and the ONLY thing both groups remember is Ben.

I've been praying since day one that Ben will have memories of both lives in his head, and judging by the fact he appears to be Going Through It in the trailer I assume that'll be the case.

since Ben is at the center of the conspiracy, I almost want to say he's who they're supposed to be rescuing? like, maybe instead of One Ben Two Lives, it's Two Bens One Cup. I don't think they'll do that, though. They're probably trying to rescue Jennifer. HOWEVER I do think it would be really sexy if Nick Offerman and Megahn Mullally weren't playing a couple but were instead playing the same person from different universes (hence being named Gene and Jean), and they somehow found each other and that's why they're leading this conspiracy.

Mystery Jennifer is stressing me out. obviously by the glowing she's got something going on. I'm thinking there's a possibility she was erased from the family's memories after Ben's death- the trailer makes it seem like Reginald made Allison rumor them after the fact. there's probably a decent chance they all knew her, she lost control of her powers, Ben died, Reginald locked her away and erased all traces of her. maybe in the sparrow timeline she died instead, or maybe she was always locked up there and Ben was drawing her from memories that were already starting to leak through from the og timeline, but either way probably in trying to uncover how Ben died they figure out they have to save her. idk!

also, six is like. a random number of years I'm sorry. why wouldn't they just say five years later? maybe another thing to do with Ben bc umbrella Ben was number six? I'm probably reading too much into that one.

I'm truly SO scared they're gonna reveal none of them have spoken during the time skip. Five doesn't deserve that 😭😭. in my perfect world him and Viktor have an apartment but the show writers 100% forgot they said those two were best friends when they were kids judging by the rest of the series rip. when the Gene and Jean characters were first announced I thought maybe Five got stuck in the foster system and they took him in, and that could still be the case (maybe that's how they noticed the universe is a lie in the first place, the boy loves to Yap) but I think it's less likely now idk

if Diego and Lila's daughter isn't named Gracie....what was this all for. what was this all building towards. what's the point. LMFAO I know the popular fanon one is Anita (personally in my head I've been calling her Poppy and I Don't Know Why) but like Gracie is the only name that makes sense, Diego is Too Much of a mama's boy to accept anything else.

this one isn't a prediction it's just a demand- I DEMAND a white violin icon moment set to extraordinary girl by green day. they can 100% get away with just doing an instrumental version since Viktor's not a girl lmfao, but it literally Haunts Me that they didn't do that at the end of season 1 (or at LEAST play the opening of letterbomb when Viktor was in the basement hallucinating) so they NEED to make up for that. it's the last season. play the fucking song oh my God.

there might be too much going on to bring the sparrows back in any meaningful way, but like! I liked them! I especially wanted more Marcus last season, he and Viktor had good chemistry. and Fei was an icon. Why Are We Hiding Sloane Tho. I considered maybe they were rescuing Sloane, but like, Luther just seems a little too happy for that to be the case? that's why I also think Diego and Lila's kid isn't the one being rescued like I saw some theories suggest- Diego is so excited and Lila's grinning in the car scene. can't imagine their 5 year old is missing.

Five is absolutely gonna die. like I'm sorry since episode 1 there's never been a believable outcome where everything's okay and he lives. HOWEVER I think there's a very strong chance the series could end with the timeline is finally saved and set right, and grandpa Five died- but then right at the end 2002 baby Five shows up and gets stuck in the safe timeline. Five has been a walking paradox the whole series. it'd be bittersweet to lose the Five we love, but know that he's still technically getting a happy ending because he doesn't have to live through the apocalypse and become an assassin. I think that's like the best outcome we can hope for.

I think it'd be EXTREMELY funny if Reginald is just super nice now that Abigail is back. like the entire excuse for 30 years of insane behavior was that he missed his wife. bestie there are better ways to cope than abusing superpowered kids </3 but lmao I'm intrigued by him and Viktor being together in both trailers! I've always gotten the feeling that Viktor is one of his 'favorites' (to the best of his ability anyway), and from the brief childhood flashbacks we see that he had baby V acting as an assistant for him, so I'd like to see their relationship expanded a little bit. honestly I just want a lot about Reginald cleared up- he does give off the distinct impression that he actually cares about his kids, even though he's abusive. I'm assuming the explanation will be something along the lines of 'well I always planned to bring you back and safe in the New Universe', that he was approaching it as a 'they have to suffer now to save the universe, and then they can be happy' mindset. that would be interesting. but I'm also a little worried they'll wave his behavior off with 'oh he's an alien he just can't understand how he affected them', which, would suck writing-wise.

I'm worried about Allison- I'm sure they're gonna want her to have a full redemption by the end of the series, but what she did to Viktor and Luther last season...like I just don't know that they'll pull off a meaningful redemption, to where it's believable that they forgive her (other than the fact they're both softies and push overs). not with the shorter season, anyway! I *think* the person Viktor was punching in the trailer was Allison. but I'm worried that instead of actually fixing the issue the writers will just have her do a sacrifice play. especially since, bless her, she's the least sacrificial person in the family, so I could see the argument that it'll be a meaningful character growth moment, but like...if they don't actually have her believably fix her mistakes it'll just feel like a lazy writing move. also, I love her and I don't want any of them to die. as I said, the only death I'm willing to accept is Five's WITH the promise of baby Five getting a happy ending.

I want the Handler to come back, even if it's only for one scene. sorry, I think her absence was one of the low points of season 3.

I think if Grace appears in this season at all it won't be the robot version we're used to, but an older version of her human self that Diego met in the 60s. could be very bittersweet. I just don't think the robot exists in this universe bc honestly if my husband revived me from the dead but then I found out he's been living without me just fine, but made a robot copy of a pretty young fling he had after my death and seemingly can't live without her. I'd be a little pissed! sorry! lmao that said I also have personally been headcannoning that Grace is actually a cyborg and not a robot this whole time, the kids just don't know because of all the insane protocols Reginald set up, so if they do something with that instead I'll be really excited.

Diego and Lila's daughter deserves powers<3

alright I think that's all I got for now. but I wanna hear more theories!!

[russolaw]

Model Daniel/Musician Johnny

Because the door was unlocked and he'd been there several times the last month and a half, Daniel thought nothing of walking right into the house, where he found Johnny in his bedroom (actually the living room because Kreese, the band's ex manager, would not let them buy the three bedroom house and forced Johnny to make a room for himself on the first floor) packing boxes. Their new house had three bedrooms. Johnny was gonna have his own room.

"What do you want?" Johnny asked, barely glancing as he cumbled up some papper and tossed it in a trashcan a few feet away. "Shouldn't you be at that party, schmoozing it up?"

Daniel shut the door behind him turned the lock, casually walked to the bed (pull out couch) and lied down, arms behind his head. "Nah. Got tired of the crappy music and drunk people. Jimmy was hitting on Zendaya when I left." Daniel never wanted to go in the first place, but he promised the photographer that invited him he'd make an appearence. His manager, Mr. Miyagi, didn't mind that he was only there for an hour. It was enough.

"Like anything would happen between them," Johnny replied with a roll of his eyes. He picked up what looked like a business card. His jaw clenched and he sniffed. Daniel guessed it was Kreese's, his name in small print shining silver underneath rhe large "Gold Entertainment". Johnny said him and the rest of the Cobra Boys were happy at Lotus Agency United now, but despite the way Kreese was, they'd been with him for awhile. There might always be a part of them that would miss him. Johnny ripped it up into pieces and let them flutter to the floor.

"Hey, get out of my bed, LaRusso."

He grinned. "Come over here and make me."

While they were long past the point of violence (he still couldn't believe this blond hotheaded lunatic was his friend), there was still the memories of Johnny's punches and kicks, so Daniel assumed his smart remark would earn some kind of assault. However, Johnny silently got up and lied next to him. They both looked up at the ceiling, at the water stains and star stickers.

"You takin' those with you to the new house?"

"No. Tommy already bought a bunch more."

"Real ones are better. You should go take a gander at them sometime."

"You asking me out, Danielle?"

Yes. No. Maybe. Was he?

"Depends. You good with a pizza and movie first?"

Faster than Daniel could blink, Johnny sat on Daniel's thighs, one leg on either side of them. Daniel stared, wide eyed,as Johnny lifted his shirt up to show off his chest.

"Yeah sure. Maybe you'd rven get lucky."

Hesitantly, Daniel reach out a hand. Johnny smirked and grabbed his wrist, brought the hand ulp to his chest. Daniel swallowed and squeezed one of his pecs. "Wow," he breathed.

This wasn't an unexpected development. Most people, some of Daniel's friends included, insisted there was some tension between them, even back when they couldn't stand each other.

"Real glad you're here," Johnny said, bending down to kiss Daniel. He ground their hips together, and Daniel groaned as Johnny started to unbutton his shirt.

⭐️

"You hungry?" Johnny asked, shaking Daniel, who was in trance, focused on the stars.

"I guess." His clothes were back on. Underwear most likely on backwards. Pants unzipped, unbottoned, unbuckled. Johnny's hair was a mess. He watched the blond as he walked into the kitchen, noticing a slight limp..

"Most of the stuff is packed away. But we got microwavable popcorn. And beer. Maybe a movie on my laptop."

"Yeah, sure." He eyed the guitar resting on the couch they used as an actually couch. "How 'bout a song, too? You have a decent voice."

Johnny followed his gaze to the guitar. "Want me to sing the song I wrote you?"

Daniel sat up, jaw hanging open. "You what?"

"You’re too easy, Daniel," Johnny laughed. He threw the bag into the microwave and turned it on. Getting the beers from the fridge, he jumped on the bed next to Daniel, sat crosslegged and handed one off to him. He gave Daniel a sweet peck on the mouth that got hus heart racing. "Play your cards right and maybe I'll like you enough to write you a song."

"Sounds like a challenge. How's this: you and me next Friday at seven. I'll pick you up and take you to an Italian place near Mr. Miyagi's."

"Oh, what a gentleman."

"I want that song, doll."

[zaynmirrors]

Warning: bad decisions, poorly written smut, alcohol, weed.

Chapter 4

The venue was a decent sized bar. Packed full of people. Y/n went straight to the bar getting a beer for the both of them. Upon returning to Eddie side she spoke, "I wasn't sure what kind you like" and offered the cold beer to him.

He was grateful she even thought about him. “This is perfect, thank you” she smiled and gave him a nod. She took his free hand and pulled him to the edge of the stage.

Her hand was warm in his, electrifying actually. Eddie studied their hands for a moment. He liked this. Maybe a little too much.

“I wanted to get close before they started playing” y/n spoke, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked to her face, she hadn’t been paying attention to him.

She let go of his hand. He already longed for the simple touch. “Pretty smart”, he nodded then took a sip of his beer. The cool liquid lining his throat, then hitting his stomach as he swallowed.

“Not my first rodeo” she chuckled, he smiled. Watching as she lifted her glass bottle to her lips. Noticing how they wrapped around the opening- ‘god stop’ he thought, ‘you’re being a creep’. He made a grimace at his inner dialogue.

He knew this crush was wrong, for many reasons. One, she had a kid. Two, she was his friend’s sister. Three, hell there didn’t need to be a third reason, those should’ve been good enough.

They stood and talked while watching as the band set up their equipment. Y/n had made another quick beer run before people started to fill in, in front of the stage.

He kept an eye on her, making sure she was alright. He watched her weave through the crowd forming. Giving a small smile he took the glass from her hand and offered a smile.

The mic screeched with feed back, as the lead singer moved it. Eddies attention turned to him. He wanted so badly to be like his idols one day. To be on stage and perform.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” His voice was gruff, and echoed through the venue. The crowd erupted in a chorus of responses. “Are we ready to rock tonight?”

Eddie picked out y/ns enthusiastic “hell yeah” out from the rest of the crowd and smiled. She was enjoying herself, at from what he could tell.

“Let’s get this fucking show on the road” the singer smiled. Eddie watched as the guitarist began playing. His fingers moving ever so slightly over the strings.

He looked down at y/n and took her in, noting the way she was glued on the whole scene. She seemed enthralled.

Eddie let loose, screaming lyrics at the top of his lungs, jumping to the beat. He’d almost forgotten he wasn’t by himself.

Y/n grabbed onto him, “this is my favorite song” she screamed over the music. Eddie looked down at her, she was bubbling with excitement. His heart melted. She had indeed needed this, he realized. She wasn’t a mom right now, she was just someone around his age having the time of her life.

He watched as she loudly quoted the lyrics word for word. She was belting them, they were coming from the bottom of her heart. She meant them.

The concert flew by, it was filled with beer, dancing and screaming of lyrics. The both of them would be hoarse the next day but they didn’t care.

Y/n was more than buzzed as she stumbled out to the parking lot. Eddie snorted at her, “careful”, he then proceeded to trip over air. “Shit”, he steadied himself.

She giggled, “you were saying?”

“Yeah, yeah”, he chuckled.

Y/n had decided best if they walked back to their motel, Eddie had agreed. Luckily the motel had only been five minutes away.

Eddie reached into his back pocket, pulling out a black cigarette case. Y/n eyed him, watching as he pulled out a hand rolled cigarette, put it to his lip and then lighting it. Then watched as he slipped the case back into his pocket with his free hand.

She watched as he inhaled, then brought it down to eat at his side. The smell wafted over her, it certainly wasn’t the kind of cigarette she had been expecting it to be.

He glanced at her, she watched realization wash over him, “shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask, I-“

She just laughed, she didn’t care. “Its fine”

“Are you sur-“ she nodded.

Without thinking he offered the joint to her, she took it. Expertly taking a hit, then exhaling out her nose. ‘That was hot’, he thought. He watched as she took another hit. This was almost as good as porn to him right now.

She handed the joint back to him. He finished it off and threw the butt down on the ground using his shoe to snuff it out.

They were both buzzing as they stumbled through the door to their room. Giggling y/n laid on the bed. “You’re beautiful you know that?” Eddie said without thinking.

She sat up on her elbows and looked at him, as if she’d never heard anyone say anything remotely similar before, “you really think so?”

“Oh my god, yeah” he nodded.

She looked him over, trying to decide if she believed him. “Thank you”, guess she did.

Y/n pushed herself off the bed, letting her feet carry her to the bathroom, and shut the door behind her. Eddie began to strip while she was in there, figuring it’d be the best use of his time.

Y/n stared at herself in the mirror. Her makeup had ran. What the hell did he find beautiful about that. She shook her head. Sure she knew she was somewhat attractive, or well used to be, before Jovie.

Now all she could see was the stretch marks, dark circles and the tiniest bit of baby pudge she’d never fully lost. ‘He’s just not thinking right’ she thought. ‘No way he actually means it’

Using the provided wash cloth she rinsed her face of the leftover makeup. The dark circles becoming more prominent. She worked hard to take care of her child. To make sure she had a good life. To make sure she never wanted.

She yawned, the booze and weed weighing on her. Making her limbs feel heavy. God she was exhausted. Quickly she changed into her pajamas and exited the bathroom.

Her eyes were greeted with eddies bare back. Toned and muscled. She watched his muscles moved as he slid a clean shirt over his head and pad to the side of the bed he had claimed for the night.

Now he was attractive, he was tall, muscled and sweet. He hadn’t talked about a girlfriend, so y/n had assumed he was single and how he was single; she couldn’t figure out.

‘That was perhaps a mystery for another day’, she’d thought as her eyelids became heavy as she stood. She got in the bed next to him, moving around until she was comfortable. “Goodnight” she murmured.

She wasn’t sure he’d even heard it until he mumbled back a “night y/n”. A sleepy smile made its way onto her face. It wasn’t too long after that she’d fell asleep.

Her breathing evened out, and Eddie closed his eyes. Eddie couldn’t sleep. Normally the amount of alcohol and weed in his system was enough to lull him to sleep but not tonight.

Y/n laid beside of him, mouth slightly agape as she slept. Shirt bunched up under her breasts and her shorts rode up as well. She was a sight to see. She was breath taking.

The more Eddie stared at her sleeping form the more he felt a stirring in his stomach. He knew it was wrong. Hell, perverted even.

He couldn’t help the fantasies. The images of her beneath him, on top of him. Imagining the way she tasted, or how she sounded. It was intoxicating.

He sat up, careful to not wake her. Dragged his feet over the edge of the bed and stood, making his way to the bathroom.

He turned the knob on the shower, watching as the water began to trickle down into the tub. Using his hand he felt the frigid stream, if this didn’t work, he only had one other option.

The water ran over him, cold and repelling. Leaning his head back, he drenched his hair. Eddies skin prickled at the frigid water and yet his cock pulsated. Ached. ‘Fuck it’ he thought

He wrapped a hand around his aching member. He groaned slightly at the feeling. With one motion of his hand, his eyes lulled shut. Enjoying the feeling.

He imagined it was y/n, her lips wrapped around him. Taking him deeply. Eddies mouth gaped open slightly. Soft moans falling over his lips as he stroked himself.

He prayed she was still asleep, unaware of his actions. Unaware of the noises he was making, just by thinking about her. The pace quickened as he began to chase his release. A whimper escapes him, he was close, so close.

“Fuck” he moans, his body shuddering in release. He continued to gently pump his member. Milking out every last drop. He had it bad for y/n. He knew that it was crazy. Knew she wouldn’t like him back. Knew he would eventually get over it but for now-for now he’d just pretend he had a chance.

Chapter 5

Taglist: @mewchiili

[dame-zoom-a-lot]

Silver Linings

Prompt fill for @steddiebingo square: Victorian AU

So.... I basically know nothing about that era, so I did a modern twist based on that horrible scam Regency ball. I hope that's good enough ^^;;

Rated T

Read on Ao3 if you'd like

This feels bad.

Normally, he'd be pretty mad about the lack of tips, but he really can't blame any of these suckers. The "ballroom" is desolate. Scattered groups of sad sacks sit around in Victorian getups of varying quality. There's a girl in a really good dress trying to stage some people and props to look like she's having a good time. It's a futile endeavor. The organizer fucks didn't even bother to set up minimal decoration.

Eddie sighs and mixes a drink for himself. He shouldn't drink during a gig, professionalism and all that. But maybe if he gets sloshed enough, they'll fire him and let him go home.

Though if the goal is to get fired, it'd probably be faster to just go home. He has that new mini just begging to be painted. Jeff got a new game that he's been itching to try out. He might even DM. Not that he minds DMing all the time, but it'd be nice if someone else took the reins for once.

Eddie takes a big swig as the music turns on.

That should have been a good sign. Maybe something was finally going to happen. Maybe the organizers were going to at least offer some semblance of a ball. But people around him, including Eddie, groan at the sad copy-right free slop. These dipshits couldn't even be bothered to get period-appropriate songs. It's all vaguely poppy instrumentals that remind him way too much of the early 2000s.

That's it. He's leaving.

But his sneaky exit gets blocked by a duo carting in a stripper pole. A livid looking girl and another dude roll out their equipment to the middle of the room. The dude has this thick head of hair that's defying gravity. Eddie forces himself to look away before he starts counting the number of moles on the his long strong neck. The girl next to him glowers at the rest of the room as she extends the pole. She grips it and does a wide swing around the pole. It holds.

Everyone in the hall is looking at them. The girl blushes furiously. She says something to the dude and punches him on the shoulder when he says something back.

He's got a nice smile. Sharp at the edges. A bit crooked.

Eddie leans back to watch. He wonders what kind of routine the girl would do. Most dancers he's worked with try to look vaguely happy, or at least neutral. Apparently that's better for tips.

Then the guy strips.

Ok, so he doesn't strip. Tragically. He's wearing some nice, tasteful boxers that hide the... goods as much as it can. Eddie shamelessly ogles him climb up the pole then flip upside down. He wolf whistles before he can catch himself because he was drinking on the job like a fucking idiot, but he just turns towards Eddie and blows him a kiss and a wink.

Eddie doesn't take his eyes off him for the rest of the routine. It gets so bad he actually creates a line. Sure, he should mix up a mule for the grumpy lady in an oversized pink and yellow nightmare. But Mr. perfect is clenching his abs and wrapping his thick legs around that metal pole right there. Eventually, Eddie gets sick of people bothering him and just lays out a bunch of drink so people can mix whatever the fuck they want.

Eventually, his enthusiasm manages to infect the crowd, thanks to his ungodly charisma honed with years of DM-ing. Or maybe they were bored and sad and just looking for something good to latch onto. Anyway, by the end of his routine, he has a decent crowd cheering him on. He does one last long, sensuous spin around the pole and hops off from the top. He pulls on his pirate-inspired (as much as Eddie likes this guy, he's not going to pretend that costume is in any way adequate) robe and exits after a deep courtesy. Eddie hoots and claps along with the crowd     ~~~

"I take it you enjoyed the show?"

"What?"

The girl that came with the dude is looking at him with a sharp smirk. Her dusty blond hair is chopped roughly at neck level. She points her chin at the now-empty pole.

"I mean, yeah, obviously," Eddie says with a nervous laugh. She's looking at him with a sort of intensity he's not used to.

"Not obviously. Look," she sighs and gestures at the pole again. "It was supposed to be my girlfriend, but she got nervous about pissing off the crowd because why the fuck would you have pole-dancing in a Victorian steam punk ball? And they didn't even tell her that's what she was doing until day of. Can you fucking believe it?"

She doesn't wait for him to answer.

"So she's freaking out. Then Steve, that's who you were staring holes into by the way. He's been taking some lessons from my girlfriend so he volunteered. Said he's gotten good at dodging shit so he could take the heat, even if the crowd starts pelting him with tomatoes. As if I'd let anyone throw anything at him--don't tell him I said that by the way. And anyway..." she takes a deep breath. "I told him to go freshen up."

Jesus H Christ. Is this what Jeff meant when he said talking to him is like watching a one-man show?

"That's so nice of him."

"Nice and brave. Ugh. Dingus," she says with incredible fondness. "Anyway, I told him to go freshen up."

"Freshen up?"

"Yeah, basically, fuck off for ten minutes so I could give you the normal spiel of, you know..." she narrows her eyes. "Do you hate the gays?"

"No?" Eddie chuckles and looks around. Fortunately, no one's paying attention to the egregiously lazy bartender and the random dancer's assistant. He flicks his wrist playfully. "Would be awkward if I did."

"Ok, great," Robin nods. "You saw me do that test swing around the pole, right?"

"Yeah, very impressive."

"Ugh, don't fucking lie to suck up to me. You've already passed my vibe checks. Anyway, you should know that means I've got incredible upper body strength. Believe me, my girlfriend reminds me every day and she's got even better upper body strength."

"Got it. So if I break his heart, you girls will smash my head in with your giant abs and arms," Eddie says with a wink.

"Birdie, please don't smash the bodies. It makes clean up such a chore." A pleasant, melodic voice quips from behind them.

It's the dude. Steve. In the flash. Eddie lets himself fully roam over his face now that he has permission. Steve smiles a little shyly and gives him this cute, dorky one-fingered wave. It feels like the start of something big.

[laurrelise]

i’m rewatching tua season 4 because i guess i once again need confirmation that it’s just as bad as i remember …

but ive been told im too negative about the season on more than one occasion so im going to be positive and name a bunch of things i like about each episode of the final season!! <3

warning: this post is decent sized lol

today we are tackling: episode 2

i do love the beginning montage of the siblings all being sick while simultaneously using their powers to improve their own daily agendas if only it featured more than just 3 of the siblings…?

i love five’s assistant twink and also how he’s called mr. five at the grand old age of 19 years old (i know he’s 64 but shut up)

lila’s eyeball lasers and the rubber ducky

luther being devastated over the place being “destroyed” even when it was a literal shithole to start off with

viktor finding his VOICE. viktor with CONFIDENCE. i love you viktor “ill kick your ass right now” hargreeves. king, you are 4 feet tall, but eat him tf up

“why is it cold” “the real question is, why would you touch it”

five slapping diego’s hand out of the way and him not even trying to fight it is so them and i love it

viktor actually attempting to kick ben’s ass (and as much as he looks like a feral little gremlin, i love it)

luther’s “DUDE! I LIVE HERE” he’s such a grumpus

also viktor’s little speech about him building a life for himself and it all being fucked over because of ben’s dumb ass

“i could’ve lost my job!” “did you?” “wh-” and five looking up at him with wide eyes and genuine curiosity. not the time king but thanks for asking

allison eating ben tf up and klaus supporting her

“i’m not going back to that old klaus. i like this klaus! hey, he collects coupons! he’s frugal, respectable, reliable, and most importantly, he’s a klaus that claire likes. and trusts and looks up to.” THIS IS SO SAD I LOVE HIM

diego pulling ben back to the couch by his hair is such brother behavior

i do love the wanda van. she’s truly iconic

will forever love that five gets the front seat because he’s the old man. if i were his sibling i wouldn’t even try to take it. shotgun is for the senior citizen

the gag about baby shark not being able to stop playing for the entire several-hour long road trip is pretty alright comedy-wise i guess although it would’ve been much funnier if baby shark wasn’t the main goddamn song in the entire season’s soundtrack

i will never shut up about how much i love the love-hate banter from all of the siblings. the actors did such an amazing job bringing the dysfunctional family back to life.

ben getting humbled in the diner was pretty satisfying. sparrow ben i’ve never been your biggest fan but you’ve grown on me

luther’s mention of sloane is so sweet if only she’d been mentioned more than twice

luther is generally adorable i love that man

viktor saying “phones work both ways, yknow” when allison said he didn’t call. i love how much confidence he’s found in himself this season, quite possibly one of the only characters who wasn’t horribly assassinated trait-wise

diego throwing the axes, i love him. also lila’s unimpressed reaction always gets me

klaus with the TAROT CARDS!!!!!! yes please i wish he’d used them more

i do actually like jennifer’s character. the truman-show town thing was so interesting even if it had relatively no effect on the plot for the rest of the season, it had potential but i love that jen matches ben’s freak in the sense that she is absolutely not afraid to call him out on his bullshit

old man five trying to blink :( so sad poor guy

also five immediately pretending to stretch when lila calls him out

once again i love lila and five’s reluctant alliance. why couldn’t they just continue being frenemies for the love of god

five noticing the singular guy looking at them and mentioning it to diego and lila and she says “maybe he likes you” STEVE BLACKMAN YOU COULD’VE PUT FIVE WITH ANYONE ELSE. STEVE BLACKMAN WE COULD’VE HAD A ROMANCE BETWEEN FIVE AND THE ELF STARING AT HIM AND IT WOULD’VE BEEN BETTER THAN FIVE X LILA. STEVE BLACKMAN WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME

ben defending jennifer awwwww

five’s subway station to different timelines will go down as being endlessly awesome if only it hadn’t been created solely so steve blackman could fulfill his own weird ass ideas

diego and lila once again trying to convince the other to let them save the day is a very often-overlooked sign of love that i refuse to ignore. they do it like 3 times in the show and it gets me every time

“i have laser eyes im more powerful than you!” “they’re not even working right now!” “they’re gonna work i feel it they’re gonna work!!!!” lila i love you you’re so cute

“I TOOK OUT THE TRASH” hey btw diego it’s not the time

ok but diego’s flip where he redirects all the bullets… idk how i completely forgot about that part (probably because i was busy thinking about all of the other things that i hated) but it was SO fucking awesome stfu

diego and lila collecting reindeer stuffies for the kids even while they’re fighting for their lives is still so adorable

klaus’ positive affirmations. klaus I LOVE YOU

klaus accidentally finding a fake jennifer is so on brand for him NVM HOW DID I FORGET THAT SHE LITERALLY SHOOTS KLAUS

i LOVE the part where luther’s shielding allison and viktor from the bullets. especially when viktor tears out of his grasp like a feral little gremlin and takes out half of the shooters

still don’t know what the hell allison’s power is???? is it the rumor thing except she only has to think it instead of saying it?!!? idk but it’s cool i guess just wish it was explained more!!!!!!

luther’s “i should’ve known, those sconces were too perfect” he’s all upset but i can’t help but smile he’s literally a 5 year old

the car flip is so fucking cool. the glass flying around the van around everybody is so good, the “carol of the bells” is so menacing and simple, five absolutely serving while everyone else is screaming and flinging around in the back

ALSO DIEGO’S ARM GOING OUT TO PROTECT FIVE. fuck i love them so much. STEVE BLACKMAN FUCK YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID TO FIVE AND DIEGO

jennifer’s little “help me, ben” as she gets carried away is so tragic oh my god. and his little reach out to her as she’s taken. fuck

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, jean and gene are such phenomenal villains. nick offerman and megan mulally are phenomenal actors. christ on a cracker why couldn’t they have been utilized in a plot that was actually written well

and that’s the end of the episode! only positivity around here folks! :)

…

just kidding here’s some of the tiny little things i caught that i don’t like / that make literally zero sense

luther screaming “no! no! no” when his monkey body is back (for some fucking reason???) is so heartbreaking the poor guy hated himself 💔

i love the whole subway station thing but how the hell did five accidentally blink into the station when he was just running but couldn’t when he was genuinely trying lmfao

it’s absolutely wild that five deadass blinked accidentally and then just hopped on the subway even though he was just running for his life. if the writers genuinely believed five wouldn’t have immediately returned to help his family and checked out the subway later then they need to be fired immediately. thanks

it will never not be funny to me that literally every single person in the town has a huge gun. was that much security really necessary 😭

the part where klaus dies and they give him marigold even though he stressed 100% that he didn’t want it makes me so sad. i get why they did it (he literally would’ve died if they hadn’t) but the panic in allison’s voice as she holds her dying brother and tries to figure out if it’s right to give it to him against his will is so heartbreaking

KLAUS’ “what did you do?” WHEN HE REALIZES HE’S GOT HIS POWERS BACK IM SOBBING

ok and that’s the end

the first couple of episodes weren’t too terrible in my opinion? so it’s understandable that i’d find plenty more things i liked than i disliked in this episode. also all the things i pointed out that i liked were tiny little details when most of the season’s flaws imo were huge arcs / plot points that span multiple episodes so they might not be as relevant in a post of this format !!

might do this when i watch the rest of the seasons to truly identify if i really am too hard on this season (i don’t believe i am considering how many much smarter people have also stressed the issues with this season but it was fun so i might do it anyways)

anyways thanks for reading goodbye

[yourlocaldilemma]

Golden thoughts {part 3} (ln4)

______________________________________________

lando norris x fem!sprinter!reader word count: 2.5k

part 3/? Part one, Part two, part three, part four

warnings: horribly translated french, jealous Charles

You turn your favourite playlist on shuffle in the background as you dance around the kitchen. You’re in a good mood. The last month had been scattered with very successful track meets and good progress in training. 

Nights like these make you feel all the more content to not be looking for a relationship. Spinning around in nothing but an oversized shirt and panties, singing along to your favourite songs, cooking what you want, how you want. 

You’d been independent and stubborn since the day you took your first breath, and sprinting had never changed that. Your training schedule made it difficult for you to spend time with people not that you had many people to spend time with so growing up you were on your own most of the time. Lots of people found it odd and many overstepped their bounds to tell you you should have a better social life, but you took the advice with a grain of salt. Maybe you should feel lonely, but you never did.  

You’re in the middle of slicing lettuce and singing to Sabrina Carpenter when your phone vibrates. Reflexively you swipe left to clear it but pause and pull the notification back once you see who it’s from. 

Charles never messages you on race weekends. You’ll text him good luck out of courtesy, completely aware that 9 out of 10 times he won’t respond until the race is well over with and he’s either drank, partied or cried the results to rest. 

The Face ID lock spins before the message pops up. 

The music reduces to dull thumping of a baseline as the three simple words glow on your screen. 

“Hey, it’s Lando”

Even though he had left you his number that night in Australia, you hadn’t texted him or made any effort to connect with him. You had typed out a hundred different messages a hundred different times since then but couldn’t bring yourself to send them as you fought yourself mentally over why, why in gods name you even wanted to send them in the first place. 

You could see that Charles, or Lando, or whoever it was, was still active on the account.  If this was Charles idea of some late night joke you were going to let him have it. 

“Prove it.” 

Not even seconds after the message delivers your phone is vibrating, showing you your face as it prompts you to accept the video call.

Your hair is still in a high ponytail from earlier and your face makeup still looks half decent but you’re not wearing a bra, and the thin T-shirt you’ve donned does little to hide it.

You position the camera so nothing below your collarbone is visible and accept the call. Lando’s face fills the screen, looking pleased with himself like a 5 year old who just made a crayon masterpiece. You can distinguish the trademark red of a Ferrari T-shirt in the corner above him. 

“Hello Y/N.” He grins like your name is the most interesting thing in the world.

“Hello Lando.”

“You never texted me. Now I’ve got a crazy Monegasque breathing down my neck like I’m trying to kill you instead of just talk to you.”

The words slip out of his mouth like it’s the most obvious and common occurrence for him to want to “just talk” with you.

“your only way of contacting me was calling me on Charles’ phone?”

“He and Arthur alike wouldn’t give me your number, instagram, or WhatsApp, because apparently they don’t trust me. Or they just doesn’t trust me with you, because for a reason conveniently explained only in French, they’re acting like they have a claim over your life right now. 

He narrows his eyes and looks up at the shirt which you can now assume belong to Charles. You see his ring clad hand reach down into the frame and pinch Landos neck until the skins stripped of its colour and is left white long after he pulls his hand away.

Rubbing his neck, Lando shifts before meeting your eyes through the phone. “So this is me asking why you had a month and a half to text me, but didn’t. I thought we were best friends now.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not as he stares at you through the camera waiting for a response.

“Don’t you have a race to be preparing for?”

“Don’t even try that,” he hisses, “You know damn well that tomorrow is only free practice.”

“Lando I’m cooking dinner right now can I call you back later?” 

“Call me back later on my phone, or Charles’ phone, who is now going to try to push me off the track this weekend?”

“I guess you’ll find out, won’t you sweetie.” The pet name you use sarcastically with friends slips out of habit but Landos eyes glint like diamonds and his grin widens until it looks like it hurts. He nods repeatedly like scolded child.

Charles reaches forward again, this time to take his phone. 

 “Jesus garde-le dans ton pantalon Y/N” *Jesus keep it in your pants

“Bon Dieu, calme-toi Charles.” *Good god calm down Charles.

“Il m'a raconté ce qui s'est passé en Australie!” *He told me what happened in Australia!

You switch to English again for Lando’s (who’s looking quite confused) convenience. “The last time I checked, it’s not a criminal offence to have dinner with someone. You’re the one who’s made it clear I should try to make more friends.”

“I didn’t mean F1 drivers.”

“Why does it bother you so much? You’re reacting like an immature toddler Charles.” He stares blankly at you, his eyes darkening into a deep amber and his neck tensing. “I have to go. Have a great night,” you deadpan before hanging up. 

~~

You fire Charles a short but supportive text after FP2 before pulling up Landos number hesitantly. Whether or not Charles is acting like he has a stick up his ass, he’s still one of your closest friends and you’d always watch race weekends. 

Typing and deleting more texts then you count,  you decide that, “amazing job today” seems about sufficient. It was true, Lando had done an amazing job today, setting the second fastest time across both practices. 

Lando: Why hello there

Lando: would have set purple if I had my braid

Your mind runs to the interview you watched in Australia where he still had the small braid tucked into his curls. You had assumed for your own good it was an accident.

Sent: The braid huh?

Lando: I know you watched the race that weekend. I got pole, driver of the day and second place

Lando: which is basically first place because my little Maxy is in a fucking rocketship

Lando:  it was cause of my braid

You can’t help but admire his innocent take on the properties of luck. 

Sent: I’ve seen how hard you work. I don’t think it was the braid Lando

Lando: it was the braid. I haven’t gotten within the front 2 rows or on the podium since. Coincidence? 

You’re not completely sure how to respond to his theory. Telling him it’s because dragging his car onto the podium is like trying to climb Mount Everest in stilettos, probably isn’t the best idea before FP3 and qualifying tomorrow. 

Your phone vibrates again

Lando: You could come over right now and give me another one. Could use the luck tomorrow. 

You smile at the message, feeling intoxicated by the determination and childlike happiness that radiates off Lando thick as honey.

Sent: I’m not coming over to your house at midnight to braid your hair Lando

Lando: tomorrow? 🥺🥺🥺

Sent: yeah we’ll see. Goodnight.

Lando: goodnight!

You fall asleep with your lips curved up into a small smile and thoughts overflowing with images of a blue eyed boy. 

~

You’d be lying if you said FP3 went well. Charles and Carlos both went into the gravel and Landos best lap time was a full 3 seconds slower than he made in FP2.

Lando: I told you the braid was lucky

Lando: believe me now? 😛

Sent: You’ll be incredible in qualifying

Lando: location sent

Sent: what?

Lando: drivers parking lot. I’ll meet you there with a paddock pass. Then you can give me my braid

Sent: Charles will kill both of us, never mind all the press.

Lando: fuck

Lando: right

Lando: meet me here in 20 minutes then

His account then goes inactive, not giving you the chance to decline his offer. The address he sends you immediately recognize as a very expensive part of Monaco. Google maps shows it’s only a 5 minute drive but instead of trying to hail a cab in the thin streets you decide to run there. 

The amount of bodies on the sidewalks makes it almost impossible to keep a solid pace as you follow the directions on your phone. The masses of bodies swirling around all seem to be going in the direction of the racetrack and it’s suffocating as the tide of people almost pulls you with them. Once you break from the crowds, the street you’re on is completely void of any human life. 

 A ping sounds through your headphones. 

“You’ve arrived at your destination”

A large metal gate stands 100 metres down the road from you, well kept greenery and perfectly spherical bushes bordering the newly laid road. Behind the gate are multiple large flats and hints of the ocean glitter behind the white houses. 

You glance around, feeling severely out of place surrounded by luxuries you don’t dare imagine for yourself. You scroll through your instagram feed leaning against a tree, liking your friends posts when you come across an old post of McLarens. It’s a picture of Lando on the podium in Australia, his tongue out and eyes squinted into the sun. Champagne covers his body and his face is printed by his balaclava. You once again see the braid you absently left in his hair. They had captioned the picture

“New tradition?” 

For a fleeting moment you let yourself wonder if they’re talking about the braid or the podium before being yanked back to the present by car coming up the drive. You can only imagine it’s Lando as the car gets colder and you see it’s a McLaren. A gorgeous McLaren. You watch him reach across the car to open the passenger door. It slides upwards with a mechanical efficiency you can’t help but admire. You make eye contact with him through the windshield. He waves one of his hands toward the seat, motioning for you to get in. 

The door clicks shut beside you and Lando drives a short few meters before stopping to unlock the gates. 

“And you were impressed by my hotel room,” You mutter.

He laughs, eyes glittering. “Nice to see you too Y/N.” he pulls up to one of the flats. The exterior is almost completely white, excluding the huge oak door and black trimmed windows. 

“Remind me what I’m doing here?”

He smiles at you with a tilt of his head, “Braiding my hair of course. Though I don’t have very long I told my team I was going to grab a hoodie.”

You can’t help but laugh, a real laugh, until small tears are forming at the corners of your eyes. Lando is smiling a small smile, watching you like there’s nothing else in the world worth watching. His eyes run over your face until you feel a blush bloom on your cheeks. 

He clears his throat and unclips his seatbelt before shifting to lay his head across the low centre console, to the point where it’s almost on your lap. His curls brush your bare knees making lightning tingle on the surface of your skin. His hair is much softer than you remember it being and the curls untangle easily as you run your fingers through them before you begin to braid. Landos eyes close gently and a peaceful smile slips across his lips. 

As you twist the strands around each other, it feels like the thousandth day you’ve spent time with Lando, rather than the second. It doesn’t take long to finish the braid and as you loop the elastic around the end he opens his eyes to look up at you. 

“Is it weird that it feels nice when you’re braiding it?”

You smile down at him with question.

“No. You’ve never had someone play with your hair before?”

He shrugs as best he can with the awkward position he’s lying in, making no effort to sit up.

You’re barely breathing as you begin to play with his hair, terrified of overstepping, but Lando smiles contentedly and closes his eyes once more, nestling his head off the console more and further into your lap. The intamimte tension has millions of butterflies in your stomach and heat growing between your legs. When Lando lets out a soft involuntary whimper you draw the line and untangle your fingers from his curls.

“You should probably get back to the track.” You whisper. He groans, pulls himself back up into his seat, starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, one hand on the wheel and the other running over his new braid. 

“Promise when the good luck works you’ll give me another one next time?” He calls after you as you climb out of the car.

“Sure.” You roll your eyes. “Pinky promise.” You stick out your little finger and he reaches across the car to meet it. His huge hand dwarfs yours as he intertwines your fingers. 

He smiles at you, “It’ll work. Just you watch.” 

You just grin back at him as you watch the car accelerate, the lights eventually fading away. The whole run home You’re in your head, replaying the otherworldly events that were the last 10 minutes.

When you get back to the hotel there’s still 3 long hours until Qualifying. Surveying the mess of track clothes and suitcases scattered across the room, you make the executive decision to spend the time packing for your early flight tomorrow as the sun shines bright honey light through the windows. 

~~

Lando puts it on pole. 

By a whole fourth of a second. You watch the post-quali interviews with a haze of pleasant, but extreme surprise, and Landos head seems no less in the clouds than yours as he repeats the same approved script of answers to the different reporters.

Your phone vibrates less than 3 minutes after the drivers leave the media pen. 

Lando: I told you

Lando: want to come over?

You can’t believe your eyes. You’d never made such fast, whatever you two were, with anyone in your life.

You know Lando can see you’re still active, and his typing bubble keeps popping up and down like he’s deciding whether or not his offer was too much.

Lando: to re-do the braid of course

Sent: You’re ridiculous. 

Lando: thank you. I’ll pick you up in an hour.

[zoeykallus]

Hey I really like your writing and wanted to ask you if you could write about the batch, Howzer and Rex when the reader learns for there finals and doesn’t have much time for there clone boyfriend but cooks them a romantic dinner

Aloha!

Let me see what I can do for you 😊

The Bad Batch/Howzer/Rex x Reader HCs - Make Up For Lost Time

Mostly Fluff/Slightly Suggestive

______________

The finals keep you in a tight grip for a long time, pure stress consisting of studying, writing exams and hours of preparation for those very finals. You hardly see your beloved clone anymore, you have neglected him very much, inevitably.

A romantic dinner, prepared with love, should be a small consolation.

______________

Howzer

"When you called me yesterday I almost didn't believe it, then when you invited me to dinner today I thought I was dreaming at first," Howzer says with a smile, standing in your doorway in his dress uniform.

You smile at him, he's looking gorgeous as ever.

"I know I haven't had much time for you lately, but that will change soon," you assure him.

You let him enter and, being quite the gentleman as always, he wipes his shoes on the mat in front of the door first. He enters, kisses the corner of your mouth gently, and pulls a bouquet of flowers in your favorite color from behind his back.

Howzer is observant, noting such things as favorite colors, songs, dishes, and so on.

He lets you lead him to the dining room table, sits down and watches you put the flowers in a vase, next to him on the windowsill.

The table is beautifully set, your best tablecloth, your best china, candlelight. The light in the room moodily dimmed.

"You're a little early, but dinner will be ready soon," you say, disappearing into the kitchen.

You're so busy tasting, setting the stove and oven to the right temperature, and re-seasoning that you don't hear him come into the kitchen behind you. You let out a startled cry as his hands gently, but surprisingly, come to rest on your hips.

Howzer laughs softly, "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you".

He kisses your neck, wraps his arms around you and looks over your shoulder.

"That looks good, and it smells amazing" he says softly.

You say with a soft sigh, "Now if it tastes like it smells, it should be perfect."

When you're done, Howzer insists on helping you apply it, not taking no for an answer. He scurries around you, taking things from you to bring to the dining table himself, stealing a little kiss as he passes.

On the one hand he steals your nerves with it, on the other hand he is so adorably affectionate and tender that you have to smile again and again and can't be angry with him.

Rex

He appears on time, as always, to the second. He has appeared in his dress uniform, he knows that you have a weakness for him in this outfit. Of course, he comes with flowers, chocolates and a bottle of wine. Rex never shows up at your door empty-handed.

The kiss he steals from you at the greeting is very tender, but also very sensual and, above all, long. You stand there in your open apartment door for a full five minutes before you finally make your way inside your apartment.

As always, your heart beats faster when he is near you. You are so in love with this man, his closeness and attention give you wings. Rex is quite a wonderful gentleman. Decent, but also sensual.

Again and again your eyes meet over the dinner table in the candlelight. The food is great, you've outdone yourself, and Rex lets you know it. He savors every bite as if it were a gift from the gods. For someone who subsists almost exclusively on protein bars and military rations, this meal is probably some sort of divine offering.

"The food is almost as good as you are beautiful, almost," he says with a smile.

You laugh softly, pleased with his reaction, and say, "Wait for dessert."

His smirk gets a little perkier, "Dessert? I thought that was you?"

You roll your eyes and grin.

"Maybe later, but I made dessert too," you say, affectionately reprimanding him.

He smiles back, but sighs softly as he says, "I can't wait for your finals to be over, you probably are too. I know this time has stressed you out a lot. I miss you. I mean, between my job alone, we don't see each other very often, now even less. It's almost unbearable."

You reach across the table for his hand, and he gently clasps it with his.

"I know, Rex, I feel the same way. But I can't let myself get distracted, that's important"

He nods.

"Of course, I know that. That's why I never complained"

You smile at him gratefully. Rex really never pressured you, quite the opposite. He supported you in your every decision and action as best he could.

He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it gently. With a little twinkle in his eye, he asks in a smoky voice, "Now what about dessert, my dear?"

Hunter

For him, you have thought of something special. A picnic outdoors. You rented the roof terrace of your apartment building for the whole evening. You've spread out a blanket on the lawn and set up garden torches. Everything should be atmospheric, romantic, relaxed.

Your picnic basket is full of delicious things that you have made yourself, hearty but also sweet, and of course drinks.

Hand in hand, you come to the roof terrace, and you see with satisfaction the bright smile on Hunter's face when he discovers what you have prepared.

"Sweetie, this is wonderful."

You lead him to the blanket and sit down with him. The torches cast romantic, flickering light on the scenery as you enjoy the meal you've prepared.

"You've outdone yourself," he says as he takes a bite with relish.

Your heart beats faster, you are so happy that he likes it. With pride, you wear the bracelet he gave you. A leather strap with filigree figurines made of Nabooian cedar, which he carved himself. You will proudly show it to your fellow students when you have to go back to university.

You have been envied many a time for having Hunter at your side. He's attentive, eye-catching, decent. He's so much more mature and decent than most of the guys your friends go out with.

Hunter makes you happy, very much so, and with this dinner you want to show it to him and also return the favor, for his patience, because you've been so busy and barely had time for him these past few weeks.

You end up feeding each other dessert. Of course, Hunter doesn't miss the chance to kiss you and gently lick the chocolate from the chocolate fruit at the corner of your mouth.

He smiles at you. Hunter knows exactly that you are under his spell.

Echo

He is very much looking forward to this meeting. It's been far too long since you've seen each other face to face. He shows up at your door with flowers and a little figurine, hand-blown from glass, your favorite animal. When he passed by a stall and saw the figurine, he couldn't resist, immediately thought of you. He tied a very small, delicate bow around the neck of the figurine.

"How pretty," you say dreamily, "That's very thoughtful of you."

Echo beams at you, "I immediately thought of you when I saw it. But what have you prepared?"

His eyes roam over the set dining table.

"This looks fantastic," he says, smiling at you.

"A little compensation for me having so little time for you," you say, lighting the candle on the table.

Echo beams.

"Surely that wasn't necessary"

"Yes, it is. I've been so busy these past few weeks, we've hardly seen each other. I was starting to feel guilty" you say apologetically.

Echo laughs softly and reaches for your hand.

"My dear, I know you have important things to do. I missed you very much, but I didn't feel neglected. You don't owe me anything. This was important, for your life, your future, I would never be offended by it".

Echo is so incredibly considerate and understanding, a real godsend to you.

You look at him gratefully and say, "You are absolutely wonderful, Echo. I've missed you so much."

He kisses your hand and says with a dreamy smile, "I missed you too. But now I'm curious, let me taste what you've conjured up there."

Wrecker

He stands in front of your door, with a bouquet of flowers and a bag of chocolate fruits in his hands. Wrecker beams at you as you open the door.

"Hi sweetie! I missed you!… Oh maker, what smells so good in here?"

You laugh and say, "The food I cooked for us, I told you I was making us a romantic dinner."

He grins at you.

"Perfect! I'm hungry as an animal"

He basically always is.

You grin back, let him in and accept the gifts he brought. The flowers are your favorite, in your favorite color, of course, Wrecker wouldn't just get any bouquet for you. He knows you, he knows what you like.

"How sweet of you"

Wrecker kisses your cheek, your forehead, your nose and your mouth.

"Missed you" he says, sighing in relief as if your absence has caused him real pain.

" I missed you too, big guy."

You put the flowers in a vase and place them near the nicely set dining table. Wrecker wants to help you dish up the food, but you insist that he sit down and be served.

"You spoil me, beautiful."

You say softly, laughing, "That's exactly the purpose of tonight."

Wrecker enjoys, holds back a little, he doesn't stuff as fast, but he still eats plenty. Pleased, you see the satisfied, enjoyable expression on his face.

"That was fantastic" he says as you finish "Exceptional".

You smile happily and say, "I hope you left room for dessert"

His eyes get big, dessert is his favorite part of the meal.

"Hit me!" he says happily, rubbing his hands together.

Of course, he still has room for dessert.

Tech

"Maybe you should unwrap the present after dinner, we don't want your lovingly prepared meal to get cold," he suggests.

You agree with him. Tech enjoys the meal so much that for once he doesn't talk and explain as much as usual. You can see how much he enjoys this special meal with you. Every bite is enjoyed with all senses. He smells it with relish every now and then. The sauce seems to have done it to him particularly, he takes again and again a small addition of it.

When you are finished he says, "My beloved, this is by far the best food I have ever eaten, and I have already dined in the royal house of Naboo."

You beam happily at him.

"You're not just saying that to please me, are you?"

Tech shifts his goggles, looks at you seriously and says, "You know me, I don't lie, even in cases like this"

You laugh softly, remembering that of course he's right, if he hadn't liked the food, he would have told you that rather bluntly. You breathe a sigh of relief, pleased with yourself and how the evening has gone so far.

He picks up the package again and presses it into your hands. He looks a little nervous, like he's on hot coals.

"Unwrap your present," he says softly but with gentle emphasis.

You do as you are told and finally have a small device in your hands, a cube with a projector lens and a few buttons. You have no idea what it's supposed to be.

Tech smirks.

"Let me show you and explain what this is," he says, gently taking the device from your hands and walking to the closest of one of your living room walls.

He sets the device down on the floor and says, "You keep saying you're missing decorations, like just this one big bare wall here."

You blink thoughtfully, but nod in agreement.

"I built this projector with the latest technology. It can project lifelike images on your wall, or on several walls if needed. You can, for example, create the illusion that you are in the Jungle, or in the old city of Naboo. I have already saved a few dozen projections on it, but there is still room for more, should you have any wishes.

He presses a button and projects a familiar place onto your walls. You are surrounded by wildflower bushes, trees in full bloom, and gently swaying grass.

"Tech, I know this place"

He smiles, and you see his cheeks blush a little.

You say with a certain undertone, "That's the grove on this moon where we first made love."

He nods and says quietly, "Yes. I went back there to take those pictures, so I could save them for you".

You smirk and look at him.

"This is a great gift Tech. Now we can make love in my living room as if we were back there on that moon"

Tech's cheeks get even more flushed.

"We could, indeed" he confirms.

Crosshair

He's five minutes late, and he's annoyed about it.

"Sorry, Kitten, traffic was terrible. Some idiot managed to block two lanes with his transporter, I had to take a detour"

"It's okay, dinner just got ready, you're just in time" you say, kissing his chin.

He smirks, holds out a long-stemmed single rose to you and a bottle of excellent Nabooian wine, then kisses your forehead.

"Missed you," you say softly.

"I missed you too," he hums into your hair as he kisses the top of your head.

Finally, he sniffs the air and says, "Smells good in here, did you exaggerate cooking again?"

You laugh and lead him into the apartment.

"Of course I did," you say amused, "You know me."

He smirks, "Good thing I came here hungry."

"I should hope so too"

You dish up the food, on the beautifully set table with your best china.

"Fancy" he says with a grin.

Crosshair is a very picky eater. But by now you know him and his preferences well enough, and he likes you enough to try something new now and then when you cook something new. Today, the two flow together beautifully. He likes the food, a lot, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Of course, he notices.

"Relax, the food is great," he says with a smirk.

The two of you enjoy the meal, swap stories a bit, tell each other what's new. Crosshair, as always, has a funny story or two about his brothers.

After the meal, you go out to your balcony with the good wine that Crosshair has brought with him, sit down on the big wooden swing between the thousands of potted plants that make your balcony a cozy little jungle.

Crosshair puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close. You toast with your wine glasses.

"To us, and to having more time together soon," you say dreamily.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

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