#and then celebrated and praised him when Phil got it right

[awesomeferret10]

Okay, question: @danielhowell @amazingphil

What the fuck was this entire video? Genuinely??

(Video compilation of the many times they implied they fuck, also some general unhinged times. Tagging them because I actually can’t take this shit anymore. I was not prepared.)

[ramzawrites]

can i request an angsty sbi fic where sibling reader lost two lives saving others (maybe tubbo at the festival?) and they see everything falling apart (techno and phil destroying everything, wilbur dead and tommy focused on the disks) and they pretend to be ok while their mental health gets worse and worse until they decide to end it, and people only realise they weren't okay after the death message pops up and their reactions to seeing it? if not thats completely fine, ik its pretty heavy

Broken

GN

Pairings: none

Characters included: Wilbur, Tommy, Philza, Tubbo, Technoblade

Warnings: depression, suicide (falling, non descriptive), angst

Series: a request!

Summary: Y/N just wanted their home back. They just wanted to live a peaceful life but instead all their hopes and dreams got ripped apart by the people they loved the most.

Words count: 3647

Authors Note: Honestly I could have shortened it quite a bit but here we are, it’s way longer than I wanted but I hope you guys enjoy this. I’m sorry if this went kind off of rails to what you might have envisioned. Also I hope that you guys know that you are loved and appreciated. I appreciate you for taking the time to read my stuff :] Here is m favorite video to cheer me up some times, hope it can cheer you up as well!

I’m also curious what your guys thoughts and opinion are on this or my writing in general! Can’t get better without feedback :]

Y/N loved their family.

They were all pretty chaotic but so was Y/N, following their siblings into trouble ignoring any possible consequences.

So when Wilbur proclaimed he would create an independent Nation inside the SMP that was owned by Dream himself, you bet that Y/N was standing right beside him.

When Wilbur would struggle with his tasks or was weighed down by doubts they would swoop right in and do their best to support him. Every time Wilbur would say “I don’t know what I would do without you sometimes.” While Y/N didn’t do it for praise but out of love for him it was still nice knowing that he appreciated them and that he took note of their work.

Tommy wasn’t really for heartfelt words but he too expressed in his own way how much he appreciated them being around. Most of his schemes wouldn’t have even happened without Y/N’s help after all. As a way to say thanks he would let them just take stuff fout his chets or when he heard they needed a specific resource he would wander out and get it for them. Of course saying something on the lines of “I was out there anyhow, so I brought some with me. It was on the way.” Y/N could read between the lines though. They grew up with him after all.

Y/N put so much energy into L’Manberg they couldn’t help but be in love with this little nation. They would do everything to protect their home.

When Y/N lost their first life it was together with their siblings protecting their nephew Fundy.

The Dream Team suddenly retreated after another battle against L’Manberg. While the group was celebrating what they thought was their first victory in ages, Eret appeared. She told the group of a small bunker with more resources.

Still celebrating Wilbur, Y/N, Tommy, Tubbo and Fundy made their way towards the bunker. The bunker that would later go down into history as “The Final Control Room.”

Inside they all looked at the labeled chests only to notice that they were empty. Eret then pressed a button which opened up secret walls with the Dream Team standing behind. She herself got into safety as Dream and his friends merciless attacked the L’Manberg faction.

As soon as Y/N understood what was happening they did their best to form a wall between the attackers and Fundy. Slowly pushing him out of the room while they made sure to block the exit, giving the Fox Hybrid enough time to run away.

When they woke up again it was inside their home. In L’Manberg. Sore from the respawning.

Once they did respawn though it didn’t take long for Fundy to barge into their room and throw himself against them, thanking them. Wilbur was close by, looking worse for wear as well but incredible thankful nonetheless.

After that and a few battles more Tommy challenged Dream to a duel in order to secure independence. He lost so instead he bartered his music discs for freedom.

After Tommy respawned a second time Y/N made sure to spent most of their time hovering around him. Making sure he was doing alright.

But with that L’Manberg was independent and it was Y/N’s time to shine. Sure, they worked hard on strengthening the infrastructure of the nation but now, maybe even because of that, they basically coordinated all the new builds.

Shops, homes and other things were being build with them overseeing it. Meanwhile Wilbur and Tommy took care of the political part only to come to the conclusion that they had to have a proper election.

At first it started innocently enough as well. New political parties were made that begun advertising themselves. Funny enough they would always come to Y/N asking them where they could hang up their posters. It was then that Y/N realized that the people saw them as some sort of authority, even asking them if they wanted to start their own campaign. They politely declined, saying they worked best as a support role.

Then Schlatt entered the stage and everything got thrown upside down.

In the end he managed to become the next president via a coalition and his first declaration as the president, or emperor as he called himself, was to exile Tommy and Wilbur.

As they ran for their life Y/N didn’t hesitate to follow. It hurt them so much to leave L’Manberg, their fruit and labor, behind. This only got worse once they realized that Tubbo was basically left alone back at the city under Schlatt’s rule.

Then Pogtopia got established.

Tommy, Wilbur and Y/N did their best to get a proper foothold again. Gathering resources and planning for ways to get their home back. And to accomplish this they soon called in the oldest sibling of the group, Technoblade.

Techno has been away for the longest time now. He moved out early to travel the world and apparently train himself. Somehow Tommy found a way to get a message to him, so he made his way towards Pogtopia.

He wasn’t big on words or emotions but as soon as he arrived he let Y/N hug him.

“This is a onetime deal, Y/N.”

With Techno they finally felt like they had a chance. Y/N could maybe return home someday. Back when they were children Techno always looked out for them so to have him back Y/N felt infinitely safer.

All the while Wilbur showed more and more signs that his mental health was rapidly declining. Y/N did their best trying to cheer him up but there was only so much they could do. Especially since they themself were struggling.

L’Manberg was their everything and now it was under the iron rule of Schlatt. They had to watch as Schlatt walked through the nation, ripping apart builds that they commissioned or even built themself. Every time he did something like that it felt like another stab wound directly into their heart.

Then the festival happened where Y/N lost their second life protecting Tubbo.

Schlatt wanted to apparently celebrate democracy and his amazing rule. Tommy and Wilbur weren’t allowed to join while Techno and Y/N received an invitation.

Y/N was very wary of that. They learned from Tubbo that Schlatt apparently was pretty interested in bringing them over to Manberg since a lot of the residents trusted them and saw them more as an authority than Schlatt himself, so bringing them over would probably also bring a lot of the residents around to his rule.

On the day of the festival Y/N made sure to stay close to Techno. Holding on to his arm and basically hiding behind him, not feeling up to talk with all the people in Manberg.

The people were happy to see them but Y/N was tired. They haven’t slept properly ever since the exile, too many thoughts that kept them awake.

Then the speeches started.

Honestly Y/N wasn’t really listening, their attention purely on a broken old building. It used to be the place where Y/N and the other residents would meet up and map out their plans for new builds. Discussing and even sometimes arguing on what materials should be used and where to get them. Now it was empty.

Their attention got pulled back towards what was actually happening once Tubbo begun speaking. It was a nice little speech Y/N had to admit.

Just as Tubbo was about to leave, Schlatt moved back in. Holding him in place and pushing him in something that Y/N had to describe as a cage with the help of Quackity.

“Techno, buddy. Come up here for a sec.”

Technoblade tensed up but still moved towards the stage. There Schlatt uttered the words that pulled the rug out from beneath Y/N once again.

“Kill him Techno. He is a traitor.”

“Don’t you dare!” Y/N yelled out, making their way towards the stage as well.

Y/N knew Techno couldn’t deal well with social pressure, especially when there were about ten people or more behind him that could attack him at any point.

Tubbo looked so scared as he pressed himself against the wall. There was no escape for him.

When Techno moved his crossbow up, aiming directly at Tubbo, Y/N let out another scream. Urging him to stop.

Explosions. Colorful explosions filled the place.

“Y/N!” it was Tubbo screaming their name out.

Just as Techno pressed the trigger Y/N managed to jump in front, the rockets hitting them instead of Tubbo.

Their older brother looked absolutely mortified “Y/N? Wha- What? Why? How?” staring at Y/N’s lifeless body that slowly dissolved. They were slowly respawning but seeing his siblings body was enough to send him in some sort of frenzy.

Filled with bloodlust he aimed his crossbow towards Schlatt and Quackity. Killing them with one press of the trigger only to turn around and aim his crossbow towards the people.

As this happened Tommy enderpearled over, screaming at Techno.

He helped Tubbo out of the cage who was still in a state of shock. He only saw Y/N for a second and the next they were laying on the ground in their own blood.

Y/N heard the details later after they respawned. Tommy had apparently been incredibly angry at Techno, even attacking him. Wilbur then offered that the two deal with their argument via a fistfight inside a pit.

Normally Y/N would have yelled at Wilbur for that. Would have told him that this was his dumbest idea yet but they were too shook from what had happened to them.

Technoblade always spelled safety to them but he killed them. Sure, he meant to kill Tubbo but that didn’t really make it any better. They gave him an out, they would have helped fighting off all these people so they could flee.

The next time they saw Techno they flinched every time he got too close to them and yet they still put on a smile “Never, do this again.”

Techno only nodded.

After this downward slope the momentum didn’t seem to stop for them. Wilbur dropped even more and more off. Falling victim to his paranoia. Y/N tried their best convincing him to not blow up Manberg, that they will fight to gain it back. At this point trying to gain back their L’Manberg was the only thing they could hold on to.

Though all that work was for nothing.

The war to take back L’Manberg went way differently than they all had imagined. Y/N fought with a viciousness most didn’t think they had it in them. This was the day for them to finally regain what they had wished for, for the longest time now.

Everything came to a halt once Dream surrendered. He showed them Schlatt who was sitting in the Carmavan. Drunk off his mind he yelled and screamed at people only to die of a heart attack which meant that the Pogtopia faction won.

The people begun cheering, they had their home back! They were free! Y/N was probably the loudest by far. It felt like a huge weight was lifted from their shoulders. All this hardship and they could finally return to working with the others and rebuild L’Manberg. Return it to its former glory.

Tubbo got appointed President and Y/N was happy with it. Tubbo had an eye for building and was a good person, with him they were sure they could do some amazing things.

Apparently Techno thought otherwise. Instead he pulled Soulsand out, holding onto the Wither skulls as a visible threat.

Y/N had somewhat forgiven Techno for what had happened. It was a stressful situation and they acknowledged it but seeing him there, threatening to kill all of them? That they knew they couldn’t forgive quite so easy. Especially since he made some sound points but it was their L’Manberg. The people didn’t like living under Schlatt’s rule, this wasn’t something that could be described simply as a coup. Technically he was right but only technically. There were so many things that came into play that could let you argue over that but Techno would have none of it. Yelling something about Tommy only wanting to be a hero.

When the first explosions rang Y/N thought it came from a Wither but Techno was still in the middle of putting the heads onto the structure.

When more explosions rang and the ground beneath their feet broke away, Y/N understood what had happened.

At some point Wilbur ran off and must have pressed the button. The button that set the TNT beneath the city ablaze, effectively destroying everything.

Y/N was too busy with finding hard ground again and then dealing with the Withers and Techno that they only noticed after the fighting ended, how broken the nation was now.

They had won. Why would Wilbur do this? He knew how much the nation meant to them and again, they had won, so there was no reason for blowing the place up!

And if that wasn’t enough to see how both their older brothers destroyed everything Y/N worked for, they also had to see how Philza, their father, stood next to the corpse of Wilbur. It felt like they lost everything.

They lost their trust in Technoblade.

They lost their hopes and dreams via Wilbur blowing up the freshly liberated L’Manberg.

They lost their trust in their own father who had slain his own son.

Y/N felt absolutely crushed. Family was so important to them and it was their own family that destroyed their hopes and dreams. They did everything for them and this is how they repaid them?

Once everything calmed down and Tubbo begun making plans on how to rebuild the nation, he immediately came to Y/N for help but they hesitated which worried him.

“Is everything okay? Usually you would have jumped on that offer, Y/N.”

Y/N put on a smile that didn’t seem to reach their eyes “Don’t worry Tubbo, of course I’ll help you. I’m just tired from what we have been through. I finally have time to take a breather and I think it all just crashed down on me.”

“Well if you ever need help you can talk to me.” It was an earnest offer that Y/N would never take advantage of.

Y/N mostly ignored Philza. He talked with them a few times and even explained what has happened but Y/N still made a wide berth around him. Seeing him just hammered back down the feeling of distrust and hurt. Their familial relationship took a hard hit from that point on.

With Ghostbur it was a weird situation as well. They enjoyed spending time with him but were also always incredibly sad around him. Ghostbur took notice of this and would always offer them to take some of his blue but Y/N declined every time.

“Don’t worry Ghostbur. Everything is still just fresh in my mind. I’ll be back to my old self in no time. You take care of yourself, you hear?”

“Of course Y/N! You have always looked out for me, thank you.”

L’Manberg slowly took on a proper form again but it wasn’t the L’Manberg Y/N knew. It felt to them like they were standing on top of a grave. A grave for their dreams and it was getting hard, real hard, to walk through it every day seeing places where they know specific buildings should be standing. Buildings they build on their own only to be destroyed by their brothers doing.

Then Tubbo exiled Tommy and Y/N felt conflicted. They felt obligated to stay in L’Manberg since they were the main person people came to for builds but that was their brother. Their only brother they still trusted and felt a need to protect.

Instead of following him into exile they stayed in the city. Visiting Tommy whenever they could, noticing pretty fast that he was struggling hard with his situation and for once they didn’t feel strong enough to properly support him. Y/N tried their best but once they noticed they couldn’t reach him completely they gave up a tiny bit.

It reminded them too much of Wilbur.

So while they visited him and helped them where they could, they spent more and more time alone in their home only coming out for work and other necessary things like food. Soon it was normal to see them with ever present dark circles beneath their eyes.

Before Philza disappeared to join Techno, he would stop by Y/N’s home all the time.

“Have you eaten, yet?”

“Yes, dad. I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.”

“I just haven’t seen you much lately and I got worried.”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine. Hey, if you go out, please, can you tell Ghostbur to stop coming around to throw Blue inside my mailbox? He won’t listen to me but perhaps he will to you.” And they would always carry the same big smile on their face accompanied by empty eyes.

The only time their happiness reached their eyes again was when Tommy returned from his exile. They crashed into their younger sibling holding him close to them and muttering apologies. He pried them off, embarrassed by all of this.

This short bout of happiness was destroyed by Doomsday. Dream, Technoblade and Philza once again made sure to set L’Manberg ablaze.

The second time Y/N’s fruits and labor got completely annihilated by their family but still they had some hopes this time. They still had Tommy on their side they could just finally build a home somewhere else and live in peace but Tommy had other ideas. He had it in his mind to get his discs back and he would do anything for it.

So while Y/N tried to ground themself with new hopes and ideas, holding onto the only constant of what was important to them, that being Tommy, Tommy ignored them. He was too busy with his own things and the worst part was that Y/N couldn’t even fault him for it.

They understood how much these discs meant to him and that this was something that had to come to an end but with this they lost another, and possibly their last, anchor point.

Yet you could still see them running around with a smile, tending to every one and trying to help out the best they could.

Then suddenly they were gone. They just disappeared one day. The few people who took note of that took some time to look around but there was no sign as to where they left. Y/N didn’t take their armor with them nor any weapons or food.

< Y/N succumbed to despair and fell of a high place>

When every ones communicators rung out with this message the SMP fell quiet.

Tommy couldn’t believe what he was reading. This didn’t make any sense. Y/N was fine! They would talk with them and everything looked fine! This must have been a cruel joke from Dream somehow, right? This couldn’t be real. Why would Dream do this? This didn’t seem to make sense.

Exactly there was no sense in Dream doing this.

While Tommy was battling with his thoughts Tubbo came running over to him. Tears streamed down his face.

“What happened? Why did this happen? Where are they?”

Tommy was visibly shaking “I- I have no idea. I don’t know. They looked fine. I’m- I’m not sure. Tubbo-“

Tubbo just slammed into him, giving him a proper hug, trying his best to help Tommy through his rising panic. He lost another sibling and by Ender that hurt.

Meanwhile in the snowy Tundra both Philza and Techno were staring at their communicators as well.

Philza was pale. So pale it almost rivaled the snow around him.

Techno had his brows furrowed. For anyone who didn’t know him well enough he looked at best displeased with this situation but Philza could see the small details that told a different story. Him sucking his breath in as he read the message, hiding his quivering lip in his cloak. He was heartbroken.

Sure the two weren’t on good speaking terms but Y/N was still his younger sibling. He still loved them.

Philza felt similar. He acknowledged that he screwed up and honored their wish to be left alone by him but he never imagined this could lead to their death. His knees buckled and he sank to the ground. Two of his children died, one directly by his hand and the other due to his inaction.

His eyes glossed over, the world became a blur and yet he continued rereading this message over and over. Y/N just lost their last life.

Philza could hear Techno walk closer to him and sat down on the ground as well.

“Y/N is-“ Philza begun but he didn’t know what he wanted to say. State the obvious to his eldest son?

“I have more fault in this than you, dad. Don’t feel guilty.” His voice was uncharacteristically weak. Wavering as he spoke. He wanted to cheer Philza up but it was a weak attempt.

“What have we done.”

Ghostbur was at first confused when he read the message. It was like he couldn’t connect the dots but it slowly dawned on him what this meant.

“Oh my.” His usual happy demeanor was suddenly gone.

He touched his face and as he put his hands back down he saw how they were smeared with blue.

“Y/N is dead?”

His usual ghost behavior seemed to break a bit. It was like through the warped version of Wilbur that was called Ghostbur for a moment the true version of him came through again. And he was hurt. Devastated.

“I think I need to find the others.” He mumbled to himself, making his way towards his family. All the while he held onto the blue wool of Friend like a lifeline. Combing through it nervously. Blue continuing to spill from his eyes.

[babbushka]

Zannah! I’m not asking for breeding kink, but I would love some hot Flip wanting to keep you stuffed full of his cum and wanting to knock you the fuck up. Please and thank you 😍

Anonymous said: Can you please do something with Flip wanting to have a baby with you but make it hot 💘Thanks Mrs Z!

2k, it's a lot fluffier than it was supposed to be lol; NSFW (birthday sex, PIV, lil bit of body worship, mentions of pregnancy/trying for pregnancy)

Sneaking upstairs with a cup of coffee in hand, you throw open the curtains of your bedroom window, letting the sunlight come pouring in. The birds are chirping, the butterflies are fluttering, there’s not a single cloud in the sky – it’s a perfect day for your husband’s special celebration.

Blinking awake, startled, Flip looks around, confused. He checks the clock and makes a move to bolt because shit it’s so much later in the morning than he normally wakes up, but you put a hand on his shoulder and sit on the edge of the bed next to him, and he sighs.

“Happy birthday handsome.” Practically beaming at him, you hand him the fresh hot mug of coffee, which he takes gratefully, still not entirely sure what’s happening.

“Don’t fuckin’ remind me.” Your man groans as he sips down the scalding black coffee, perfectly bitter.

Flip turned a whole thirty-nine this year, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with it, not one bit. He always had a rough time with birthdays, but something about being just a hop-skip away from forty has him feeling extra sour. One look at you though, and he can’t help but feel some of your happiness soaking into his own skin, your joy contagious.

“Aw c’mon,” You pull the mug away after he’s had another sip, and place it on the night-stand before crawling in on his side of the bed, shoving yourself as close to him as possible even though your side is wide open. “Another year around the sun is another year you get to spend with me.”

“Alright it’s not so bad when you say it like that.” Flip concedes, because really, you were nothing if not the light of his life.

“Of course it isn’t. I’m always right.” You wink, and all Flip can do is kiss you.

“Yes dear.” He rolls his eyes sarcastically, and you scoff out a laugh, tugging on his earlobe playfully.

A moment of comfortable silence ticks by, before you’re walking your fingers up his bare chest, walking them up up up his sternum to toy with the golden chai that rests in the pit of his throat. It glints in the sunshine from the window, and you twirl it around your finger.

“You don’t have to go into the office today you know…” You trail away, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t?”

“Nope, called in a favor with Harry.” You explain, biting at your lip, settling to straddle his waist, “And, I’ve asked Jimmy to babysit. So we’re home alone, all day today.”

At once, his hands are smoothing up your thighs. The parting of your robe opens up, and you give your shoulders a little shimmy, letting it slip off your arms, revealing your naked body on top of him.

“Oh really.” Flip smirks at that, licks his lips.

“Really really.” You grin, grabbing his hands and guiding them up to your breasts, letting him get a handful of your body. He squeezes at you, and you bite your lip again in the way that you know he likes, “Anything you’d care to do to take advantage of that…Mr. Zimmerman?”

Flip looks at you for a long while, a heated gaze. He feels old as shit sometimes, but when he’s with you, he never feels younger. Something about that true love bullshit really was true, wasn’t it? He’s got something on his mind, has had it there for a while. He figured there wasn’t a better time to ask for it than now, so he clears his throat and squeezes at your tits again, rubs his thumbs over your nipples.

“I think I’d like to get you knocked up again.” He murmurs, and it’s clear in the way that your posture straightens up a little more, that whatever you had been expecting, certainly wasn’t that.

“Wait really?” Blinking at him, you feel your heart beat just a little bit faster, your hopes getting up, and you have to double check that you even heard him right, that it wasn’t just some auditory hallucination.

“Really really.” Flip chews on the inside of his cheek, runs a hand through his hair in the way that he does when he’s nervous, “I think it might be a good time, to start trying for another one, if that’s something you’d want.”

“I want it.” You rush to say, because you do, you’ve been thinking about it for months now, thinkin’ about how the kids are getting old enough to be a little more independent, how you miss having babies around the house.

“Yeah?” Now it’s Flip’s turn to get hopeful, his big brown eyes growing wide as he stares into your soul, crossing his fingers that this beautiful morning isn’t a dream.

He’s been anxious about it, lately. About the thought that he was starting to get too old to have more kids, anxious that when they go to school the other students might think he’s a zayde instead of a pop. He’s not even forty, but it’s something that’s been resting real heavy on his shoulders and it feels good to know you want a bigger family.

“I have dreams about it, about our big family.” You shuffle a little closer to him, and he takes the hint, wraps his strong muscled arms around your waist and tugs you all the way into his lap, immediately kissing at your throat while your arms hug his shoulders, your fingers in his hair, “The kids running around in the backyard, playing together. In my head they all have your dimples.”

“I’m gonna fuck you so full of my come that there’s no way it won’t happen.” He groans, pushing you backwards making you give a startled little yelp, not stopping the onslaught of kisses that wet your neck, groaning into your skin, “Let me? Let me make you feel good.”

You’re already wet, and your legs fall open when his weight settles on top of you. He tugs the sash of your robe away and you’re naked before him, and he groans, drops his head into the cleavage that’s on display just for him, groans again.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Flip bites at you, small nips of his teeth that have you giggling because they’re on your ribs and you’re ticklish there, but the sound of your laugh only makes Flip harder, because he loves you too much for anything else, “Look at you, look at beautiful you are. Couldn’t ask for a better woman to be my wife, I swear I won the fuckin’ lotto.”

It’s only a moment or two later that he’s yanking your hips down to better meet his cock, and then he’s pushing right in. You had anticipated that, had jerked off a little bit in the shower earlier in the morning so you’d be nice and stretched for him. It’s his birthday, you don’t want him to have to do too much of the work after all.

He sets right to work, thrusting straight into you, filling you up completely. A rush of adrenaline makes you sweat, makes your hand shake, because you’re at the perfect spot on your calendar for conceiving -- if it’s going to take, today’s the day, and the fact that Flip knows it only makes you moan that much louder.

“Flip!” You whine his name, because you know how much he loves to hear it when you cry for him, crying out in pleasure that has your eyes rolling back into your head already, even though you’ve just started, “You’re – oh, oh do that again.”

Mouth dropping open, he fucks up hard against your gspot, your toes curling around his waist where he’s pulled your legs up for a deeper penetration, and goddamn does he get deep.

“Damn,” Flip grunts as the slick sound of skin slapping against skin fills the otherwise quiet room, your mouths panting into one another, breathing heavy, chest heaving, “Dammit you’re so hot, I’m so fucking lucky. How’d I get so lucky? This cunt’s so tight.”

Your body bounce bounce bounces on the mattress underneath him as he fucks you hard, and you feel the warmth of pleasure start to build up in your bones, body aching for release. You didn’t let yourself come in the shower, wanting to save that for Flip to see, because he loves looking at you, but it makes you more and more desperate.

“Faster! Please – oh yes! Yes right there!” Your tug on his hair, fingers tangling and winding through his sleep-mussed locks, mouth dropped open as your back begins to arch, “I’m close!”

“Go ahead and come baby, I’m gonna get as many of them out of you as I can today.” He says right away, and you laugh at that a little bit, because you know that means he’s got a marathon of sex in mind for the day. You’re not angry about that at all.

He doesn’t let up on thrusting in and out, ramming over your gspot again and again until your head throws back and you’re babbling, his mouth hot on your jaw where he sucks and licks because bent like this he can’t reach your tits, only egging you on more.

“Fuck, Flip – Phil!” You gasp and writhe underneath him as the pleasure coils hotter and hotter in your stomach, “I’m – ”

“You’re okay, I’ve got you, you feel so good – do you feel good?” Flip drops his hand to your clit for the first time today, giving attention to the poor neglected thing, and your eyes fly open, overwhelmed with the feeling.

“Yes!” You shout, answering his question and praising him and pleased that he’s fucking you all in one, “Yes god -- fuck -- fuck Philly, you’re so good please knock me up, please please please!”

That’s all it takes for him to blow his load, the way that your pussy clenches and flutters around his cock, squeezing him tight tight tight. When he comes, maybe you’re just imagining things, but it feels heavier, feels bigger than normal, hot and thick as it shoots up into you.

Flip pants, groans, and you sigh, the two of you breathing in tandem, eyes closed. Flip pulls out so that he can shuffle down your body and press his cheek against your heartbeat in the way that he always does, his hand drifting down to your cunt to push his come back inside your cunt where it starts to leak out.

Kissing your sweaty chest, he nuzzles his nose against your breast, teasing at your stiff nipple and sighs happily. You’ve only barely just weaned your daughter off, and something in him gets selfishly glad that you won’t be dried up for a while still, as he smacks a kiss to your sternum.

“Knees up ketsl.” Flip announces, even though he’s out of breath still as he does it, one helluva wakeup call.

“Mmhmm.” You nod, sleepy already, the post-orgasm bliss coursing through your veins.

Flip pulls off of you, and manhandles you a little bit because you’re so boneless, shoving a pillow underneath your hips to keep you propped up. He’s not superstitious, but he’s a little ‘stitious, and this worked the past two times you wanted to get pregnant, so he’s not going to break tradition now.

Only when you’ve got your legs bent at the knee and your knees tucked to your stomach, arms wrapped around them to keep them there, looking very silly from the way the pillow cants your hips up, does Flip settle down next to you and light a cigarette, kissing your cheek.

“I love you so fucking much, you know that?” He whispers, like it’s some special secret just for the two of you, “And if it doesn’t take today, then we’ll just have to try again tomorrow.”

“And the next day?” You turn to look at him with glassy eyes, smiling.

“And the day after that…” He attacks your face with kisses once more, thinking that maybe, just maybe, this birthday wouldn’t be so bad after all.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tagging some Flip loving friends! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars

[aswithasunbeam]

December 1814

“Hush, darling,” Eliza whispered. “It’s all right.”

Angelica curled up further on the bed beside Eliza with a soft whimper. At least she was resting, finally, after hours of panic about invisible demons reaching out from the walls to take her away. Eliza had had to push the bed away from the walls before she’d been able to convince her daughter to lie down.

Eliza closed her eyes, the press of the day weighing on her already. Servants were bustling through the halls just outside the door, heaving trunks from little Eliza and Phil’s rooms. They were all bound for New York at first light tomorrow to celebrate Johnny’s wedding to his dear Maria. A joyous occasion to be sure, especially as she anticipated having their children together for the first time in years: William was meant to be coming down from West Point, and Alex and Jamie had secured time away from their posts, as well. Joyous, yes, even as it hurt that so much of her family wouldn’t be there, with Angelica and Peggy both gone, her parents, and Philip…. She swallowed around a lump in her throat at the thought of her eldest.

Her younger daughter shrieked suddenly from down the hall. “Give it back! Now!”

“I’m using it!” Phil yelled back.

“It’s mine!”

Eliza sighed, easing herself from Angelica’s bed to go see what all the fuss was about. Phil and little Eliza were engaged in an all out tug of war over a bit of ribbon in the hallway between their rooms. She watched silently for a moment, frowning, her arms crossed, waiting for them to notice her displeasure.

Phil noticed her first and abruptly let go of the ribbon. Little Eliza stumbled backwards, landing hard on her bottom. She yelped, glared up at her brother, and aimed a swift kick at his ankles.  

“What are you two doing?” she demanded.

“She started it,” Phil said, jumping hastily out of the line of fire.

“He stole my best ribbon and he was using it to hang toy soldiers out the window.”

“I was going to give it back.”

“It’s got dirt all over it and you got it all wrinkled.” She held the ribbon up to show her mother. “See? I wanted to wear it to Johnny’s wedding.”

Phil stuck his tongue out at his sister. When she noticed, she aimed another kick at his ankles. He jumped back again, shouting, “Stop it!”

“What is all the yelling about?” Alexander asked as he slowly wheeled himself around the corner, to their collective surprise.

Despite the gathering dark outside the hall window, she was shocked to see him home; she’d hardly seen hide nor hair of him in the past days as they prepared to leave for their extended trip home. Both the children went quiet at his unexpected arrival, and little Eliza bounced up to her feet.

“Sorry Papa,” they both mumbled quickly.

“We seem to be having quite the disagreement over a bit of ribbon,” Eliza supplied when they failed to offer further explanation.

Alexander looked at her with a hint of a smile. “Want me to send them to help dig out the new latrine by the camp? That’s what I do with the men who mouth off. Very effective punishment.”

They both paled considerably, sending her matching pleading looks.

She made a show of considering for a long beat before smiling as well. “I think we can give them one more chance before we put them to hard labor.”

“We’ll be good,” Phil promised solemnly.

“I expect so.” Alexander tilted his head to the side to dismiss them. “Off you go. Stop making your mother’s life difficult.”

If only he’d take his own advice, she thought fondly.

They scampered off down the hall, both giving their father an affectionate peck on the cheek as they passed. He shook his head as he watched them go, then looked back at her, the laugh lines in his cheeks creasing. “Imps.”

“Well, we did complain the house was too quiet without them,” Eliza said. Indeed, when Alexander had sent them off to stay with family over the summer for their safety, the house had felt empty without their constant bickering and antics. She paced over to him and leaned down to kiss him, as well. “It’s good to have you home finally. You missed dinner again.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry I haven’t been much help getting ready for our trip. I’ve been in endless meetings. When I at one point raised the concern about the endless meetings, one of Jemmy’s secretaries quite unironically asked if I would like him to schedule a meeting to discuss it.”

She laughed.  

He grinned at her, but his eyes turned serious when he glanced towards the door to Angelica’s room. “How’s Geli today?”

Eliza sobered as she, too, glanced back at her daughter’s door. “She’s been having a bad day.”

He sighed. “She’s been having a lot of bad days, lately. I heard her whimpering and muttering when I got home late last night. She was wide awake when I peeked in at her. I doubt she got much rest.”

Eliza hardly needed reminding, having been up much of the night with her. “She’s resting now, finally.”

“That’s something, I suppose.”

His hands fidgeted on the wheels of his chair. She watched him a moment, sensing he had something else to tell her. The expression twisting his face usually signaled some sort of indigestion. When he failed to say anything more, she asked, “What is it?”

“Well,” he started, his hand going up to scratch at his neck uncomfortably.

Anxiety started to build up at his continued reluctance to speak. “If you say you can’t come to New York for your own son’s wedding—”

“No, no, it’s not that.” He sighed, resting his hands on the wheels of his chair once more, as though contemplating an escape even as he spoke. “It’s just, I need to meet with some people before I leave. And the only time they would both be available was tonight. So, I may have suggested they stop by the house before we leave. They’re on their way over now, actually. For tea.”

She felt her own expression twisting to match his, heartburn flaring in her chest as a suspicion about his guest list occurred to her. “Who?”

“Burr,” he said.

“Burr,” she repeated, disbelief in her tone even though that’s exactly the name she’d expected to hear. “You expect me to serve tea to Aaron Burr?”

“Well,” he started again.

“You promised me. You promised, when you suggested him for his position, that I wouldn’t need to be alone with him.”

“I said not just the three of us.” He fidgeted in his chair again, clearly not relishing delivering his next bit of news. “Someone else is coming, too.”

He seemed somehow more reluctant to tell her the next guest. How could it possibly get worse? “Who else?”  

He gritted his teeth, hesitating again before saying, “Monroe.”

A wave of cold fury washed over her. “Monroe!”

“Shh,” he hushed, pointing towards Angelica’s room behind them.

Her nostrils flared as she forced a deep breath, jerking her head to indicate he should follow her down the hall before moving around him towards his office. He liked to praise her as an endless fountain of love and patience, she thought, but much as she might try, she simply wasn’t. Her nerves were already frayed from sleepless nights and managing ornery children and overseeing the packing and planning for their journey. Now he wanted her to cap off her night by serving tea to two of the most loathsome men on earth.  

He rolled in to the office behind her, and she snapped the door closed.

“No,” she said firmly.

“Eliza—”

“No, Alexander. No. You ask too much, sometimes.”

He smiled softly, highlighting the dimples in his cheeks, and reached out for her hand. “You’d send me into the viper’s nest without my trusty mongoose for protection?”

“You can’t charm your way out of this,” she hissed.

“Betsey,” he sighed, expression turning serious. “It can’t be helped.”

“They’re not welcome here. Not in my home. Neither of them.”

“You know I try to keep them away as much as possible. I know how you feel.”

“Do you? Because sometimes, the way you act, especially around Burr—”

“I understand. I do. But I need to see them before I go. It’s important.”

“What’s so important?”

“Campbell submitted his budget, just before he conveniently resigned to see to his health. He estimated an appropriation of $25 million would be needed, which is far, far beyond the expected tax revenue of $11 million, and all that’s before factoring in the cost of rebuilding the capital.”

She sank into the chair near his desk, sensing a lengthy conversation. “Go on.”

“Then there’s this…this treasonous…convention.” She could hear the quotes around the last word as he spit it out. “Otis has called a meeting of Federalists all across New England to propose a radical change in our national compact. Because what we need in the middle of a war, apparently, is a new constitutional convention intent on gutting the Federal government.”

“Were you invited?”  

He snorted. “As if I’d stoop to attending such a farcical proceeding.”

She smiled a little. She knew he’d have gloried in attending, monopolizing the conversation until his voice went hoarse telling them exactly why they were all idiots and cowards, had he been given the opportunity. “So no?”

He shot her a glare, but then smirked, caught red-handed by her knowing look. “I think they knew what my answer would be.”

She threaded her fingers between his. “I know how stressed you are about the war and fate of the country, sweetheart. But I don’t see what a meeting with those two—” she paused, hunting for a word, and, finding none, continued with only the empty space to define them, “—helps accomplish.”

“Monroe is acting Secretary of War, and, with Campbell gone, probably acting Secretary of the Treasury as well at this point. I need him to call on Congress to establish a new national bank, which in turn will help fund additional men. At least 100,000 to start.”

“And I’m sure he’ll take your direction with great enthusiasm.”

“Not with enthusiasm, perhaps, but he’ll take my direction, once I explain the need.”

“And Burr?”

“The Hartford Convention needs to be minimized. We need a shot of patriotism in that part of the country, a call to arms to rally flagging spirits. Since the Northern theater quieted, they’ve been shouldering the financial burden with none of the chance for glory. Meanwhile, the enemy is starting to gather with an eye towards New Orleans. If we can start mustering troops in New England, threaten an invasion of Canada, we might be able to press England into peace and herd New England back into the fold at the same time.”

“And you want Burr to head the effort,” she said, intuiting his plan now. Once Monroe agreed to call upon Congress to fund new troops, Burr would ride north to start mustering a force to take on Canada again.

“Exactly.” His eyes bore into hers. “And it needs to happen now. Immediately. Congress can’t be frightened into cutting back on the army, or we’ll be a British colony again by New Year’s.”

She squeezed his hand.

“So?” he pressed.

She held his gaze. “I suppose I’ll let them in when they knock. I won’t agree to more than that.”

He leaned over in his chair to catch her lips. “That’s all I need from you.”

**

That she managed to bring in the tea service without pouring the scalding water over either of their two unwanted guests ought to have qualified her sainthood, in her opinion. She didn’t stay in the room with them, didn’t even mutter a greeting. She did stay near the door, however, listening, while Alexander laid out his plan. She couldn’t quite bring herself to abandon him, even when he’d invited the viper’s nest upon himself.

“I wasn’t a particular supporter of your bank the first time around, Mr. Hamilton,” Monroe said. “Why should I call on Congress to re-charter it now?”

“How else are you going to pay for more troops, Mr. Secretary?”

Monroe answered in a measured tone. “We’re mere weeks away from a peace treaty, according to my intelligence in Ghent. Once that’s signed, there won’t be a need for more troops. We can cut back, limit spending to match our more limited revenue stream temporarily, until imports duties return to their pre-war levels.”

“You don’t think the British are also gathering intelligence?” Burr asked. “They’ll be watchfully waiting for our new budget proposals. If we’re seen dismantling the army before the war is over, why would they ever agree to a peace deal? Might as well take us for their own again.”

Monroe scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. They’ve practically already signed. And I think we’ve proven far too troublesome to bother with as a colony again.”

“Too troublesome thirty years ago,” Burr pointed out. “And we were lucrative. If we can’t mount a solid defense, no reason not to give it another try.”

Alexander added, “You need to get the dissent in New England under control. And you need funding. Even without the additional expense of more troops, rebuilding the capital will be an expensive endeavor. You need to do this.”

“I don’t like the bank,” Monroe said sourly.

Alexander laughter bitterly. “It’s me you don’t like, Mr. Secretary. And that’s quite all right. I assure you the feeling is mutual. But you have to do this. Don’t make me go over your head to Jemmy to force you into action. It will only waste time.”

There was a long silence, tension palpable. “Fine. I’ll propose re-chartering the bank and adding funding for more troops. But I can’t promise it will pass.”

“Oh, I think you’ll find the votes, Mr. Secretary,” Alexander insisted. “Necessity is a great motivator.”

Sensing the meeting was coming to a close, Eliza moved to summon the servants to bring the hats and coats. She didn’t want them lingering in the front room any longer than necessary. In the moments she’d stepped away, however, something must have happened, because she suddenly heard raised voices coming from the office. She hurried back, opening the door to the office to find Burr standing in between Monroe and Alexander.

Monroe was all but shouting, “You think just because you’ve blinded Jemmy with nostalgic appeals to a long-dead friendship that you can always have your way, just as you did with Washington. I’ll not be so easily taken in, Mr. Hamilton, I promise you that.”

Burr placed a hand on Monroe’s shoulder, trying to ease him away from Alexander.

Alexander looked blithely unconcerned, all but smirking at Monroe as he said, “I’ll remind you there is no guaranteed succession in this country, Mr. Monroe, however many hats you acquire during this administration. I wouldn’t be so assured of victory in the next election, if I were you.”

Color rose in Monroe’s face as he pushed around Burr, holding a finger out in Alexander’s direction. “Enjoy your influence while you have it. Your days are numbered.”

“That’s quite enough,” Eliza said, voice deadly quiet, fury taking wing in her chest at the implied threat.

Monroe spun around to face her. “Mrs. Hamilton—”

“You have nothing to say to me, Mr. Monroe.”

“I apologize for raising my voice,” he continued, bowing his head slightly.

“No. No. If you mean to offer anything other than a full and sincere apology, not only for the unforgivable words you just uttered, but also for all the slanders and stories you circulated against my husband in the past, I have no interest in hearing it.”

Monroe frowned. “If you mean…the business with the Reynolds papers was hardly my doing. Your husband—”

“What my husband did was a matter we have long since settled between us. But that the rest of the world was involved was very much your doing. He has earned my forgiveness. You’ve never even bothered to ask it.”

“Mrs. Hamilton—”

“And you now have the…the gall to come into my home, drink my refreshments, and then threaten the person I hold dearest in the world. Please leave, Mr. Monroe. Now.”

He stared at her for a long moment. Burr patted at his shoulder, encouraging him forward. Just before Burr himself stepped out, though, he glanced back at her husband. “You’re a real pain in the ass, Ham. You know that?”

“So I’ve been told.” Alexander had the nerve to look fond as he addressed Burr.

“Out,” she insisted.

Burr at least had the decency to avert his eyes as he passed her, collecting their coats and urging Monroe out the front door without another word.

When the door had closed, she looked back at Alexander, still sitting in the middle of the room. He gave her plaintive look. “I’m so sorry, Betsey. I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand. Or for you to be pulled into the middle of it.”

She pointed in the direction the two men had just disappeared, her hand shaking slightly from rush of rage and fear that coursed through her. “That man is never, ever setting foot in my home again.”

“Of course. Never again.”

Promises, promises—how he could make them. Her heart was still beating in her throat.  He rolled forward and took her hand, placing a kiss to the back of her fingers.

She softened as she looked back at him, calming somewhat with his easy agreement and solid feeling of his hand in hers. The reason for his insistence on the meeting in the first place re-occurred to her, and she felt a niggle of concern despite herself. “Do you think he’ll still put forward the proposal to Congress?”

“Yes.” He sounded completely confident. “He doesn’t have a choice. Jemmy will back me if it comes to a contest, and he knows it. I just don’t want to lose time on the argument when every minute counts. We’re too close, balanced on the edge of a precipice. I’ll not let our experiment fail over pigheadedness and pride.”  

She considered the exchanged she’d walked in on again, eyes locked on her husband. “You said that to him, didn’t you? You goaded him into shouting at you.”

He gave her a sheepish smile. “I do so enjoy winding him up with impotent rage.”

She wanted to be angry with him, but amusement was quickly outpacing the sensation. Damn him, his charm, and his sweet smile, she thought. She let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head at him. Relief washed over his face.

“I really didn’t mean to drag you into it, though, my dearest.” He kissed her hand again, looking more relaxed. “Though I confess I enjoyed watching you kick him to the curb. My darling mongoose.”

His darling mongoose, indeed, she huffed internally.

[ne-fe-li-bata]

Aye yo CORPSE!  ...

Dead ass;

You can't convince me that Corspe was/is/does ; 

in no particular order..

• Deserve to be held ( I would smother him with my chest and hold him tighter than he has ever been held) & protected from this world

• Pyro! Mans loves🔥🔥🔥 - mostly his fav elemental  (Leo is a fire sign); “WOOO... now that’s a fire!”

•  Loves knives/weapons- has a collection (quite a nifty 1, ay thank-a-you) & even knows how to use butterfly knives/ tackle combat.

      Has a collection of weapons (brass knuckle, daggers, swords, knives,etc.)

•  Highly interested in combat/training. Most likely has training in some sort of combat. Loves any form of physical combat < UFC,MMA, Boxing, any type of martial arts>

•  Absolute proper gentlemen / clearly has the utmost charm/cunning

      I.e holds the door open & will slap yo ass on the way in, moves you away from street side when walking, pulls chairs, defends your honor, etc.

• Takes A . L . O . T  to truly capture his attention- but once you have it ..%100

•  With his person; protective/obsessives/ possessive/ sensual/ affectionate .

              < mine is mine. me no share -like absolutely not at all>

             “ You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down for ya“

• RP'er on DeviantArt/chats had his own OC. (also prob had his fav person to RP with) 

         <prob even talked to them in MSN or private chat>

•  Watched mostly nothing by anime/cartoons (nick/CN) as a kid & also mostly watched certain shows/movies as a kid well into his teens

         (could recite quotes/scenes as second nature)

•  Not a major musical theatre type of kid. But musical movies/shows was 1 of his favs- but still highly interested/ in love with theatre/musicals/preforming arts none the less.

-EYES DON’T LIE

•’staring problem’ he’d just stare at you -deep in his head (both good & bad) you’d have to bring him back to you ..”babe- eh, come *snap*back to me. What’s on your mind my love?’

•  Genuinely a really warm person- but only to certain people, but comes across cold & distance 

•  Grew up in the internet & knows the way around the 'business' & 'faceless' YouTubers/celebrities

•  His teens/ late adolescents consisted & grew up on YouTube O.G videos/ video game commentary/content;

  Cry.. <Cry was a huge part of my life & still hold a special place in my heart. Corspe just like I was most likely devastated with the shit that went down> 

Jack

Nova

Sp00n

Jontron

Smosh

Nigahiga

Shane

Jenna

Hanna Hart

Phil/Dan

KevJumba

Ray William Johnson

Pewds

Machinima

EMT

ERB

Wassabi Prod.

VlogBros, 

-etc

• Has an oral fixating (lovebites indefinitely <like dead ass ya’ll be chillan/ out & he’d attack you> & just needs something in his mouth always)

• Fidgety af, always need to be playing with something in his hands/playing with 

•  Is a goddamn absolute certified freak--but also super soft bean boi. (can't stress how this boi needs& deserves to be protected)

• Constant hand/arm touching/stroking for comfort.

• Daddy{papi} / Mommy(mamá) . Master . Sir  kink - hard control kinks- but highly sub. 

hard(er) kinks

• Lovebites = M I N E 

obvs fishnets/ crossbody straps/ lingerie

lace

collars/ restraints 

toys

     •RP

degrading/praising

sub/dom switch

showing/proving your actually/completely & utterly his/ he’s completely & utterly yours..

& of course you know it's go time when 1 - if not both of you has kitty ears on. 

over stim 

*no touchy/ don’t let me go*

“look at what I’ve done to you”

“you kno only I can do this to you”

“look how greedy you are for me”

“look at the mess you’ve made because of me’ 

“cum on my face”/’cum for me”

“who do you belong to” / “you belong to me & only me”

100% all black clothing 🖤

*that once we get home / I swear I’ll deal with you right here, right now* look 

primal play  “when you run from me, it only makes me want you more” “you know imma find you kitten”

pet names (beast< i feel like you call this man “ (a) beast”-he about to lose his absolute fucking mind> , “oh Corpse/______, you absolute fuckin’ beast- my God” kitten, babyboy/girl, baby(e), bae, my love, lover boy, my darling, slut, needy little bitch, cum slut, lil’ whore, master/mistress, king/queen”

“only yours” “just ______” “ no-one but _____” “only____” “only you” 

‘I’ll keep you so no one can find you or bother us’

“that’s my girl” / “that's my boy”

“would you like to/ I saw----”

“look at me” “don’t look away from me”

GROWLING / talking through clenched jaw

not breaking eye contact 

     • his name & ‘Corspe’ being cried out 

“cry out my name for me baby. know who you belong to”

video/sexing/teasing 

breeding kink

voyeurism

abrasions

aftercare af 

impact play 

24/7

edging 

accidental stim; “holy fuck- I’m so turned on by you rn”

rope bondage 

begging 

worships 

•  But also soft kinks; 

MEME SENDING

head on lap/chest

naps

playing with hair 

matching outfits

voice messages 

always touching (somehow)

no space between bodies

picture taking together/ just of you

body rubs, head rubs

massages

competition 

play fighting

“this reminded me of you”

“I remember you said” “I know you...”

“you know I love you”

“I can tell by your eyes”

“ugh- I swear to shit imma marry you 1 day”

“nothing really made sense until you”

“do you wanna watch”/ “WAIT!? YOU HAVEN’T SEEN?!”

“damn- you really do love/like me, eh?”/ “you are SO fucking mine”

“that’s my girl”/ “that's my boy”

pet names/ “MY_______” “YOURS”

long stares

dates- stay at home dates are his fav, as your attention/focus is just on him 

choker/necklace/ jewelry (that 1 of you bought- NOT LIKE HIGH PRICE TAG, but like seen it & was like ‘omg ____ would so wear...’) 

cuddles with movies /anime watching time

just being in the same room/on call- even in silence 

* emojis*- just some sort of communication 

inside jokes/ puns/dark humor

seeing 1 another with kids

future kink (family, travel, etc)

playing video games 

dancing/ singing with 1 another

Sitting on the ground, wrapped around his leg when he streams/edits

Nerf gun fights 

Watching him record (tracks/editing/streaming)

•  Loves- loves surprises <like dead ass would set up a surprise date/ do a scavenger hunt for you/ surprise you with your fav thing>

•  Loyalty is everything & his best attribute (& pride) 

• The music that he make is from the soul/heart. He pit everything has has/what he has left into his art

•  No one has seen the real him - a side he truly hides

•  He's both book & street smart

           Taught himself through YouTube/Reedit/online 

•  Fav actors; Jim Carrey/Robbin Williams/Will Smith (?)

•  Man’s straight up dangerous. we only know like a  quarter of him & people fall at his feet. ( h e . i s . n o t . t o . b e. F U C K E D . w i t h) 

•  Hates silence 

         ( constantly needs background noise)  <also can't fight me on this babyboi cuddles pillows/blankets for night-night time>

•  People don't understand the pain he is in every day, unless they have fibromyalgia/GERD/high functioning (sever social)anxiety/depression/ agoraphobia 

(my mom suffers with fibro/depression <I myself have GERD/ sever social amenity/depression>& I wouldn't wish those illness on my worse enemy...)

• Over all pain has changed him

• Has dealt with self harm since a young age- most likely 9- 11 yrs old. (as someone else who’s suffered with SH for years- when you become so numb it 1 of the only ways to feel some sort of anything/makes you feel like you’re alive)

• Addiction (drugs/people/things)

•  Wrote & read a lot of fanfiction

        (most likely his main source of reading in pre/teenage years)

• Is a hopeless romantic but has his guard way up

•  Obsessed with Japan / Studio Ghibli

• Doesn't think he deserves any of the recognition/ fame he's gotten--but definitely deserves it all as he's creative & inspirational as fuck. Also he’s worked so hard for it & had put himself through so much

    Contrary is highly appreciative of those that are supporting

• Doesn't do it for the fame but for the fact he know how he's gotten people through hard time (just like those on the internet got him through)

• Was a scene boy that vibe’d of myspace/ listens to a lot of  ‘scene’ pop-punk, emo/ scene band shit (band?)

•  Also is/was a major tumblr boy

•  Would be a phenomenal father

•   His love language: physical touch & words of affirmation 

• He would flinch at touch movement but would melt in your hands

• Face caresses would trigger anxiety/ tears.. but once he’s calmed/comfortable would burry his face in your touch. neck & chest

•  Still caught up in daydreams

•  A part of him is still never satisfied even if it’s exactly to the pin point detail of what he wanted  

•  Has at least 40/50(ish) songs he hasn't released

•  Mommy & daddy issues (not saying his home life was really- really  fucked - but non the less- it certainly wasn't the best).. Also wants to protect/provide for his family (especially his sister) & was prob closer to a grandparent/aunt/uncle)

•  Definitely prefers to be by himself, as every time people come around, it's like;‘"this is why I'm okay (ish)with being alone" 

• lost an important person to him due to O.D/ suicided..

•  Also most likely to of heard his "friends" shit talking 'Corpse' or something correlated with him

•  His pride is his biggest sin (next to lust)

•  Has single-handedly defined a huge part of 2020 ( in the best way)

•  Went through a fighting stage where he was ready to fuck anyone up on a drop of a dime (middle/'high school'/street fights- possibly even under ground)

          but also a stage where he cut absolutely everyone off for a solid couple years

•  Most likely obsessed with 1 of 3 creatures; lion, dragon, wolf ( 5ish- possibly bear/fox)

•  Dinosaur obsessed 

• Internet & video games raised him

• He raised himself

Quick to adapt to surroundings/situations.

•  Mighty Morphin Power Rangers was his shit ( I CAN SO SEE YOUNG BABYBOI RUNNIN AROUND THE HOUSE IN A POWER RANGER SUIT) "IT'S MORPHIN' TIME MOTHER FUCKER"

              fav ranger- green 

•  Has up until next year planned out & is working on the next 'version of corpse' ( PR, vids, music, etc)

•  Also med/high key this man was most likely in a physcward (more than once) ..

•  This man deserves more than he'll ever give himself recognition for & knows in the back of his mind--people will hate just to hate

•  Rose is his fav flower  🌹

•⛈️🌧️. >🌞.  Loves storms/ rain & prefers them over sunny days

•  Loves the moon/stars/space (?) < observatorium dates = fuckin mint>

• Pixar/Disney lover

        <still believes- deep down in happy ever after ... but thorough an twisted yet not so twisted- simple(??), dedicated process(?)>

•  Fav Pixar movie.. either Wall.E or Toy Story 

    •  Pixar > Disney

         •  But fav Disney movie- Beauty & the Beast (?)

• Most likely had a Jackass obsession's (doing dumb hoodshit)

•  Fall is his fav season (?)

•  Horror/ thriller movies/shows over everything (obvs)

•   Had an escape place in town where he’d hide from the world- that absolutely no one knew about. 

•  Was really into graffiti/ street art 

•  Arested as a youth - but charges dropped- or was still considered a mirror (either fighting/ possession/ trespassing/ vandalisms)

• Arrested on heavier charges (also same as above - but not tried as an minor)

•  also-ALSO ... thou he feels like he owes people something. HE DOESN’T OWE ANYTHING TO A N Y O N E . His mental & well being is the most important.

•  On a side & major note. You can't deny that this man single handily is a (in my opinion) the 2nd biggest “C” that define 2020.

•  Was most likely really into skateboarding/BMX

• Late night drives/impulsive road trips & playlist/ sitting at lookouts, just in silence & touching 1 another. 

• Clingy af-.. but could also be distance & cold af- especially on high pain days. stormy brain days. PTSD episodes.

• Slow dancing/ dancing around the apartments. with or without music.

• Rocking out with each other- screaming lyrics in each other face.

• “hey baby- how you feelin” 

         *grunting* *shuffles over & lays on chest* 

• Huge comforts for 1 another;

      Especially when going out, being wrapped around him for comfort & reassurance. Even being at home alone together- panic attacks are shit, PTSD episodes are even more shit. helping each other with bathing & caring

     When he’d be hiding from his reflection- or stares just a little too long. Going up behind him & worship him (vise versa)

• He’d be your biggest hypeman/ #1 fan (vise versa)

• Would LOVE you wearing his clothes/jewelry & would love to wear you things.

Was probably engaged to his ex (that's why he gets offt when people mention "corpse wife"

There'd be days where he'd be so distance & cold.. & tell you to leave but wouldn't let you.

He'd sit in the bathroom with you when you shower/have a bath.

As he doesn't sleep most night. He'd be up just watching you sleep & caressing you.

Lil spoon > big spoon.

<more to be added>

I love you... genuinely . turly.  madly. deeply.

[sahidchettair]

Brandon

Sahid was led through the large house, there were a lot of people around for their step-father’s birthday, and at age six they had to meet them all. They had missed the previous one because they had been sick with the flu, and it had resulted in hearing the commotion from upstairs where they had slept feverishly in the dark. 

Somehow they weren’t so sure if perhaps last year had offered them the best possible scenario. 

Most of Phillip Walters’ family has come over to the town of Wheeler to celebrate. They all lived nearby though, but it was rare that they appeared. They probably had been introduced to Sahid’s mother the year before, which meant she seemed less like a piece of decoration and more like she was actually mingling. 

She was proudly introducing her son, and thus Phil’s stepson, to the family. Sahid’s name was mispronounced at every turn, but their mom didn’t correct them, so they didn’t either. Their hair was ruffled, their cheeks pinched, their shoulders kneaded, and people made comments about their skin color/name/etc. But their mom had warned them about that before they went downstairs. She didn’t seem to enjoy it herself, but she brushed it off just as easily. 

Eventually, on the back porch, she turned them into the direction of a young man with a darker skin tone. So far the only one Sahid had seen at the whole party. He was handsome, had curly dark hair and was laughing with a few people, talking mostly, effortlessly gesturing to them, conquering the conversation. Sahid decided right away that they liked this person. 

“Sahid, this is Brandon,” their mother said, after having tapped on the individual’s shoulder and having waited for him to turn.

Sahid knew who Brandon was, they had often heard his name, and they had wanted to meet him for the longest time. Because they knew he was supposed to be their brother. 

They smiled happily at Brandon, holding out their small hand towards him. 

Brandon smiled at Sahid, but they felt right away that it was different from how he had smiled at the other people. He patted the kid on their head and ruffled their hair. “Hi Sahid,” he said, of course mispronouncing it like everyone else. 

Their mom guided them away, not even noticing how disappointed her child looked. 

-------

Sahid was sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast, their hoodie pulled over their head, going over homework a little before school, their feet dangling as they multi-tasked. They heard someone come into the kitchen and quickly sat up straighter and pushed the hoodie back.

Phil regarded his stepson silently, always with eyes that suggested he was disappointed. So far their only attempts at growing closer had been Phil taking Sahid along to go fishing and hunting, and praising how well they could shoot a gun. He didn’t even seem to be that invested in the fact that Sahid was one of the best singers at church, or got pretty good grades for a kid their age. 

Biting their lip, Sahid pushed their dark hair back as they tried to fix it. 

“Brandon is going to drive you to school today and pick you up,” Phil said. 

“Yes sir,” Sahid replied, giving a little pause before they did, because Phil didn’t like to get the feeling like Sahid was mocking him. Which they totally were doing. 

“Be a good boy and congratulate him on getting a new job.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Off you go.” 

Sahid hadn’t even finished their breakfast yet, but they still did exactly what their stepfather said, packing their homework away, cleaning away the dishes and walking to the front door. They were supposed to be the image of the perfect son. Their mom groomed them for everything. But she hadn’t prepared them for the surprise meeting with Brandon. 

-

Brandon was twenty minutes late. 

Meanwhile Sahid was sitting on the sidewalk, drawing stick figures in their math book, and looking up every time a car drove by. They didn’t have a watch or a phone, but they knew by now they should be in school. 

When their stepbrother finally arrived, he threw open the door for Sahid to get in, said nothing, and drove them to the school. 

“Thank you,” Sahid said before climbing out of the high vehicle that they usually only saw on Monster trucks. 

Brandon only waved and was off again. 

-

After school Sahid waited an hour in the classroom, reading a book that the teacher had given them so they could pass the time, before Brandon’s voice told them he was there to pick them up. 

They stood and walked onto the hallway, watching as Brandon talked and laughed with Sahid’s teacher. A heavy feeling washed over them. 

Brandon noticed them and told them to get in the car, before waving at the teacher with a smile and driving them home. Sahid forgot to congratulate him with the job.

-------

“Brandon has been engaged and he’s going to move back to Wheeler,” Phil said proudly, taking the biggest piece of steak and throwing it on his plate with a smack. 

“That’s great, honey,” Sahid’s mother said, smiling kindly. 

“I told him he can stay here if he wants, but he’s assured me he’ll find a house for him and his wife, and work on it till the wedding.” 

“You should invite him over for dinner, we can make some extra food for him,” she suggested. 

“Absolutely, he will like that.” 

Silence returned to the table for a moment. 

“Sahid,” Phil said, “anything to say?” 

Sahid looked up, pretending that their mind had been completely somewhere else when the conversation was happening. They put their spoon back down, and shook their head. They had maybe seen Brandon about a handful of times between their sixth and the present, and while they had always wished for a better bond with their stepbrother, he wasn’t making it easy. They were sixteen now, and hitting puberty.

“Your brother is going to live in Wheeler.” 

“Okay.” 

Phil sighed. “Please finish your dinner in your room.”

Sahid raised an eyebrow, sighed and shrugged, but cleared out as requested. As they took their plate back to their bedroom, they heard their mother simply continue the conversation as if nothing happened. 

-------

Letting out a cry, the plank dropped down in front of them. They reached up to rubbed the spot on their head where it had hit. 

“Sorry!” Brandon yelled from above. “Did I hit you?”

“Only where it hurts,” Sahid said, knowing that Brandon couldn’t hear them. They picked up the plank, and dragged both that and the box of new nails up the step-ladder. 

“Did you get the nails?” Phil asked, hammering in the last ones. 

Sahid crawled over the half-finished roof and handed the box to their stepfather. 

“Shit, you’re bleeding,” Brandon said suddenly, crawling over to his stepbrother and reaching up to pressing the sore spot on the other’s head. 

“Oh, he’ll live,” Phil called back. “Give me that plank, will you?” 

They, Sahid corrected him. They gave the plank to him, and moved away from Brandon. They felt a little dizzy, but they had grown used to not showing Phil any weakness. 

So they worked through the heat, ignoring the pain, powering through. Brandon didn’t suggest getting a first aid kit either, maybe he didn’t want to fight his dad on the matter either. 

Nadia came over for lunch a few hours later and took a look at the wound on their head, getting some ice to get rid of the swelling. Shaking her head as she worked. “Call me next time, Brandon. He needed ice, if he has any brain damage, it is on you!” 

They. Sahid corrected again in their head. 

“He said he was fine,” Brandon remarked. 

That was a lie, but Sahid didn’t fight it. 

-------

Sahid had never seen Brandon this happy. He walked out into the waiting room and gestured his father, stepmother, and stepbrother to follow. He was crying, happy tears. “Come on, come one!” he said, ushering them through the door.

Sahid was the last to enter the room. They were the only one wearing their pyjama, nobody had told them about Nadia giving birth. If it hadn’t been for a late night snack, they probably would’ve heard about it the next morning. It wasn't that they didn’t want them there, it was just that they had very, very different lives. 

The relationship with their friends was one where they had the upper hand, they were the center at times, the most popular one. But when it came to their family, they were often the one being left at the gas station because nobody cared to check if they had already gotten back into the car. 

Nadia was grinning, sweat glittering on every part of her body that was exposed, and in her arms was the tiniest little thing. 

“Cassie,” Brandon said, standing next to Sahid. 

Sahid smiled as well, and when they looked at Brandon, that feeling in their heart that had been there since they had first met, seemed to disappear for a bit. They would never get the attention from their stepbrother that they always wanted, but all the instances they had seen with those other people, none of them had gotten this particular look. Not even Nadia. This particular look was what Sahid had thought those other people got. But this was the real deal. 

Cassie was held by their stepbrother, their mom, and eventually Brandon carefully placed the little bundle into their arms. “Nice to meet you, Cassie,” Sahid said, grinning at the small thing. And for a moment it felt like Brandon also looked at them that way. 

[stilldani24]

Seize the Day - Newsie!Bucky x Journalist!Reader - Chapter Four

Summary: The Newsie Strike of 1899 made the world stand still for two weeks. For one kid and his bum-legged best friend, it meant The World was watching and they needed to make a difference. Based on Disney’s Newsies.

Warnings: Disabled character, violence, fluff (it’s a lot there at the end)

Word Count: 2028

A/N: Holy shit, so sorry everyone. Didn’t mean to leave y’all high and dry for two months. But here we go, chapter four and let’s hope I don’t wait another two months for chapter five. But I might be moving soon, so no promises. 

PROLOGUE//CHAPTER ONE//CHAPTER TWO//CHAPTER THREE//MASTERLIST

As you got back to your home, you sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. As hectic as this day had been, it had been the best day of your journalism career so far. Not only did you have a lead to the greatest strike in history possibly happening the following day, but you were promised a front-page story if this rally went well. Write it good, he had said.

“Write it good,” you repeated yourself in a deep tone, chuckling to yourself about the lame imitation of Bucky’s voice. You then sighed as you plopped down in front of your typewriter. “Write it good or else it’s back to wheezing your way through the flower show. No pressure.”

You then cracked your knuckles, craning your head back and forth before focusing on the device in front of you. After a few moments of pondering, you began to type. “‘Newsies stop The World’,” you paused, thinking over what you had just written. “A little hyperbole never hurt anybody. ‘With all eyes fixed on the trolley strike, there’s another battle brewing in the city’.”

You stopped dead in the middle of your typing, groaning to yourself as you ripped the page from the typewriter. “Now if only I could write something good about it. C’mon, Y/N! Those boys are counting on you…oh, those poor boys. This is big, lady, don’t screw it up. This is not some little vaudeville I’m reviewing.”

You thought to yourself, leaning back into your chair as you tried to think of words to string together to make a coherent, yet interesting story. Poor little kids versus rich, greedy sourpusses. Huh. It’s a cinch. It could practically write itself.

“And let’s pray it does,” you murmured as you continued to type, rip, think, and type again. Were you insane? This is what you’ve been waiting for. Well, that, plus the screaming of ten angry editors. You laughed to yourself as you remembered their reactions to the news of you joining the newspaper crew as a journalist as opposed to a receptionist.

“A girl?”

“It’s a girl!”

“How the hell?”

“Is that even legal?”

Not only that, there’s a story behind the story. Thousands of children, exploited, and invisible. The only way for this to get better was for someone speak up, take a stand, and have someone write about it. That someone being you. You sat up, shaking your head to yourself before going back to writing.

“‘The modern-day David is poised to take on the rich and powerful Goliath with the swagger of one twice his age, armed with nothing more than a few nuggets of truth. Bucky Barnes stands ready to face the behemoth Pierce’,” you finished, sitting back in your chair and grinning at your work once the typewriter dinged, indicating it was ready to be pushed and another line written. “Now that’s how you turn a boy into a legend.”

Now to put Bucky into words to make him sound larger than life. Picture a handsomely, heroically, charismatic, plain-spoken, know-nothing, skirt-chasing, cocky, little son-of-a – no, that was a little too praising. In order to get a raise and a promotion, one has to lie down with dogs. So, he’s a flirt. A complete egomaniac, in fact. Well, facing the facts of the matter, he’s also the face of the strike.

“What a face.”

Why you had said that aloud baffled even you, but his face could save you all from sinking in the ocean. Shaking your head to clear your mind of that Cupid reincarnate, you tried to think of anything else you could fill your piece with. Like someone had once said, power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely, meaning that as someone’s power increases, their morality decreases.

“I’m a genius.”

Just look around at the world your generation was inheriting. It was a flaming garbage can under the Brooklyn Bridge. But, on the brighter side, think of the one you could create. As you had written on the page in front of you, it was David and Goliath. Do or die. The fight was on for the rights of the working class, child labourers, and everyone in between. Nothing happens if you just give in, and it can’t be any worse than how it’s been. So, whatever happened, you had to set the ball rolling. You grinned to yourself, cracking your knuckles once more before typing faster than you had ever typed a piece in your short life. This was going to be one for the history books.

 Bucky paced nervously in front of the World’s gates. Earlier that morning, he had sent his fellas out to ask different neighbourhoods to join in the strike. He had somehow convinced Scott Lang, a kid from the Bronx, to go over to Brooklyn. He was a funny kid, had wits to spare, and always seemed to convince Rumlow and Zemo to give him papes for five cents cheaper. If anyone were to convince Pietro to join in the cause, it was him. One by one, newsies returned with the same news. Every neighbourhood of newsies were onboard with the cause, but only agreed to join if Brooklyn gave the go-ahead. Bucky looked around for Lang, sighing when he heard the twin doofuses unlock the gates. Finally, when the others began filing into Newsie Square, Scott came running up.

“Okay, so…” he began, wringing his hands together. “Brooklyn’s in if we show ‘em that we serious. They wanna see how we act today.”

“For Chrissake,” Bucky murmured, looking between the newsies and Sam, who gave him a look. Every newsie was beginning to doubt their cause, wanting to perhaps wait a few days, or give up completely. The look Sam gave was for Bucky to do something.

“Hey, hey!” Bucky yelled out, calling every newsie in the Square to gather around them. “We can’t back down now, a’ight, no matter who doesn’t show. You like it or not, now is when we take a stand.”

“How’s about we jus’ don’t show up for work?” Clint then asked.

“No, stupid, that’s jus’ what they want!” Bucky replied. “They can jus’ replace us! They need to see us stand our ground. Sam, you tell ‘em, c’mon. They ain’t gonna listen to me.”

Sam sighed, looking to Steve, who just shrugged. He then turned back to the crew, looking over each one of them. “Carpe diem.”

One by one, each boy got the most confused look on their faces. Sam shook his head, forgetting that few to none of these boys received the education that he had. “It means ‘seize the day’,” he clarified, making the boys now nod in understanding. “We do what we have to do. Even if it’s just us, we have to go through with our plans. If we back down now, or at all after we start, they’ll never take us seriously ever again. Minute by minute, that’s how we’ll win it.”

He then looked back to Steve, noticing what he had draped on his crutch. Some time during the previous night or that morning, he had found a piece of scrap cloth and had written on it with a piece of coal, STRIKE. He smiled, looking at a small gesture of the much bigger picture. The paper bell then began to ring, Tony Stark exiting the adjacent building to the Square to begin his shift on paper duty.

“Alright, none of the strike business. Step up and get your papers or you’ll be removed for trespassing,” he spoke to the awaiting boys, getting right down to business and letting Rumlow and Zemo take control if these boys got rowdy. Three completely unfamiliar boys stepped up, pushing past the newsies to gather papers.

“Hey, who the hell are these guys, ey?” Bucky called out to the three higher powers standing across the courtyard to them. “You pay them extra cash to sell papes for ya? Well, that just ain’t right. We been out here for days, months, years, slavin’ away for ya’s when we could’a been goin’ to school or playin’! But no, we havt’a support ourselves ‘cause no one else is gonna! All we ask for is a square deal. Fellas,” he spoke to the three unknown boys now. “Drop ya papes. For the sake of all the kids in every sweatshop, factory, and slaughterhouse in this city. I beg of ya’s, join the strike.”

One boy walked right up to Bucky, looking like he was about to throw punches, but with one look back to the two other boys, he threw his papers down. “I’m with ya!”

One by one, each boy was persuaded to throw down their papes and join the Manhattan Newsies in their cause by the boy before them. With their numbers now grown by three, their rally in the Square fully commenced by tipping over the paper cart and scattering papers absolutely everywhere. Rumlow, Zemo, and Stark hurried into the World building.

You finally rounded the corner, seeing the boys throwing papers every which way. Following you was your closest buddy, a man by the name of Phil Coulson, who was the photographer for the Sun. He snapped a picture of the scene in front of you two, of all the boys standing in front of the stack of papers and throwing other papers into the air. That was front page material for sure. Bucky then noticed you, grinning and spinning you in a hug amongst the falling papers. Before any of you could celebrate further, you heard the familiar call of a police whistle. Amongst the officers were workers of the Refuge, lead by Snyder, and every boy began scattering in order to avoid arrest and time in the Refuge. Newsies began using stacks of newspapers as weapons against the advancing officers, Bucky obviously leading the charge. He immediately grabbed you by the arms, leading you away from the action so you wouldn’t be hurt or arrested for simply being there.

He hurried you to a tight spot in between two buildings, making sure you were hidden from plain sight. “Stay here, a’ight?”

You nodded as he hurried back off to find Steve. Sam had picked up Peter Parker, shoving him into a barrel and pushing his head down so he too was hidden. Bucky was soon chased by two police officers but evaded them by climbing up a fire escape and pulling the ladder up after him. What he hadn’t seen was Rumlow and Zemo grabbing Steve until it was too late. Zemo, wearing brass knuckles, punched Steve so hard against the face that he immediately crumpled to the ground. Even though the crippled kid was obviously not going to fight back, Rumlow grabbed his crutch and began beating the kid with it. Bucky finally noticed Steve’s cries for him, but by the time he was starting to get back down to save him, Snyder had grabbed the badly beaten kid and hauled him off to an awaiting carriage, taking him to the refuge. Thankfully, all others had escaped. You were safe. But his brother was hurt, in pain, and heading to the worst place in New York City. Bucky hopped from the fire escape, starting to chase after the carriage to hopefully save Steve. But from your hiding place, you grabbed his hand and hauled him into the space.

“You’re wanted man number one, stay here,” you told him quietly while covering his mouth. Bucky was crying, panting, and still calling out for Steve when you had pulled him in. Police were still milling about, trying to catch anyone they could. Once they saw that everyone had run from the scene, they dispersed and left Newsie Square a wreckage of the attempted strike that day. You uncovered Bucky’s mouth once the scene was bare, about to leave your space when he grabbed you. He hugged you close to his chest, burying his face into your neck and letting out one sob after another. You gave him a sad smile, embracing him in return.

Upon your first meeting, you would have never expected Bucky Barnes to have such strong feelings for anyone else. But here he was, sobbing and still calling out for Steve while clinging to you. So you let him.

 Permanent Taglist: @buckysmischief​ @captainscanadian​ @thingsthatkeepmeawakeeveryday​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @wtfisachoncexx​ @jllngls02​ @abrilkatz123​ @writeturnlove​ @buckysgirls-stuff​ @tomhollandenthusiast​ @sebastian-i-stan​ @farfromjustordinary​ @imma-new-soul​ @lumar014​

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN!!

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Live Aid reunion; Queen x reader

*Author’s note*

Okay guys here we go. A HUGE time skip but completely necessary and here we come to the ULTIMATE CHAPTER that I’m sure everyone was dying to see. LIVE AID 1985. Of course I had to make a chapter about this, I’d be stupid to not to. ALSO IMAGES DO NOT BELONG TO ME. CREDIT GOES TO THE OWNERS.

Okay so BIG REQUIREMENT. LISTEN TO THE SONGS I HAVE FOR YOU ALL. AND IF YOU ALL WANT. PLAY THE LIVE AID SCENE IF ANY OF YOU HAVE THE DVD TO HELP PUT THIS INTO MOTION. Hope you all enjoy this fabulous chapter :)

Taglist:

@onebigfangirlworld

@geek-and-proud

@queens-rose-garden

@mr-badguymercury

@starswin

@5sos-wdw

@labessieisallama

@isabella-bby

@dj-lowkey

@psychosupernatural

@naturalswifty89

@ixchel-9275

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

_________________________________________________________

*July 11th, 1985*

This is probably the biggest show I will ever play in my entire life, not only is it a concert but it’s also a charity benefit.

The Live Aid charity benefit concert, to help with the hunger relief in Africa. 100,000 tickets sold for Wembley stadium, Philadelphia, JFK stadium, 13 global satellites for 150 countries. Jim had called me up telling me that the BBC was hoping that I would make an appearance to help raise money for the concert.

And me being the charity person that I am agreed to make an appearance although I was hiding a little secret from Jim, as well as the rest of the world.  At the time I had gotten the call, I was 5 months pregnant with mine and Jack’s first child.

It was two days before Live Aid.  Jack and I were told where I was to go for the soundcheck and rehearsal and according to the planner for the day of the concert, I was to go after Sting and Phil Collins.

“As I live and breathe (Y/n) Kline. And might I say you truly are glowing.” Jack and I turned around and there stood my good friend David Bowie.

In fact before I even found out about my pregnancy, David had asked me to be on his next album and it was him who was starting to see the signs of my early stages of pregnancy, due to him remembering what his first wife went through.  

After confirming the news, he allowed me to go back home to Jack and be with him and celebrate our first upcoming child.

“David,” I praised as he came over to me and embraced me.

“Oh love you are glowing just like the stars at night.” He stated as we separated and he took my hands and kissed them. “How have you been feeling?”

“Ohh the usual, morning sickness, the cravings, and irregular sleep schedule. But Jack’s been taking great care of me.” Jack and David shook hands and greeted each other and I said. “So how’d you get involved with the Live Aid?”

“My agent gave me a call, also when I heard Queen was coming I knew I had to also be a part of this production and perform after them.”

“Wait, wait….the boys are here too? All of them?”

“Yes, it was last minute from what Freddie had told me last I saw him about an hour ago.” David explained.

“How….how has he been?” Even though Freddie and I—well ever since the fight before my wedding.  I hadn’t wanted anything to do with him but the minute I had seen with my own eyes on live TV, that Paul had been fired and was confessing all these stories about Freddie’s sexuality and countless lovers, I still felt concern for him. Even after all the crap he had said to me.

“It’s not my place to say but if I were you, I’d go and see them. They’re doing a private rehearsal right now inside the stadium. You deserve closure love; you and Fred are like family to me and it hurts to see you still hold bad blood between him.”

“I agree. And I have tried to reach out, but it was always that fucker Prenter who answered and I—I just couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t bear to see Fred so long as he was still in the picture.”

“Where did you say there were at again David?” asked Jack.

“Just inside the stadium in the rehearsal room, can’t miss it go inside turn right and it’s the double doors literally straight ahead.”

“Thanks David.”

“Anytime love. I can’t wait to see your performance come showtime.” With that we said our goodbyes.

Once we reached the rehearsal room, Jack turned to me and he said.

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I need to see my boys together again. It’s been too long.”

“I agree,” he leaned forward and kissed me before we both opened the doors.  I could hear the instruments stop and Freddie’s voice went quiet.  Probably due to the sunlight the boys might not have known who exactly was standing before them but I then spoke up.

“Glad to see my boys are playing together again.”

“(Y/n)?” I heard Brian’s voice say. I stepped down a few steps and smiled widely as I nodded frantically and laughed joyously, overcome by my pregnancy hormones.

“(Y/n)!” I heard Brian, Deacy and Roger cry out as they raced towards me.  Never have I seen them run so fast up a flight of stairs as the first one to hug and kiss me was Roger.

“Oh my god (y/n)! You’re back you’re back you’re back you’re back!” He separated from me and he finally got a good look at me as he cupped my face, “Wait a-are you—are you…..”

“Yeah. 5 months since last week.”

“Oh darling that’s wonderful! Congratulations.” Brian said as he took his turn to hug me now.  I then turned to Deacy and embraced him as well.

They also warmly greeted Jack as well with brotherly hugs and telling him congratulations on joining the father club and if he ever needed advice just give them a ring.  Jack thanked them and that’s when my attention turned to Freddie.

“Hello (y/n)…..I…..there’s nothing that I could say to ever make up for all that has happened between us this past year. You were right, Paul was a leech and I….” Freddie began to explain as I slowly walked down the rest of the stairs before I finally reached him, “I’ve missed so much of your life that I promised I would be there for and I can understand if you never forgive me or….”

I held out my hand up telling him to stop talking.  Now you would think that I would slap him once again if not give him hell for what he did to not only me but the boys as well.  What Freddie said to me was unforgiveable and normally I wouldn’t take it lying down, especially at this point.

Silence rang throughout the entire stadium, you could almost cut the tension with a knife as I kept my hand up.

But I wrapped it around his neck as well as my other one as I brought him in a hug and whimpered out.

“I’m just happy to have my Freddie back.” I felt Freddie relax under my embrace and felt his arms go around my waist.  I felt tears fall into my neck as I was gently picked up and gently spun around a couple times before being set down.

Freddie and I separated from each other but keeping our hands on each other’s shoulders, tears in each of our eyes as he said.

“Oh my little Rock Angel, let me look at you.” He took a good long look at me and he continued, “Oh darling, the stars nor the sun can outshine you right now. You are positively radiant.”

“You look great yourself Fred, much more like yourself again.” I said.  There was a slight flicker in his eyes for a split second as he said.

“Yes, and I’ve never felt grander than I am right now. So when does our little Rock Angel perform?”

“I go on right after Phil and Sting.”

“Would you also be willing to listen to a bunch of aging queens try to play together again?” he asked.  I turned back towards the rest of the boys and they all looked at me hopefully.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Let’s get to work boys. We’ve got a lot of practicing to do.” I stated with a proud smile.

Time was of the essence and in just two days it was finally time.  

The crowd of 100,000 people were piling in, hundreds of crew members were running around getting the stage set up, cameras were rolling, sound checks were made and I was currently in my trailer getting into my performance mind set as Jack was strumming on the guitar.

Instead of my usual Rock Angel attire of the black leather jacket and jeans, I was now wearing a basic black maternity spaghetti strap shirt, blue jeans and a long cream lace mesh long kimono as well open toed, high-heeled brown boots that went up to just my ankles

Soon a knock was heard at my trailer door and an assistant came in and said.

“Mrs. Kline, it’s time.” I turned to Jack and he nodded and the two of us left my trailer and we followed the assistant to the stage.  As I walked up toward the stage, I saw my boys standing right in the wings.

“Good luck love.” Whispered Deacy.

“You both got this.” Roger said.

“We’ll be right here watching every minute” said Brian.

“Shine like the Rock Angel I know you are, my little darling” Freddie said.  I thanked them and waited behind the curtain as the announcer announced my introduction.

“And now straight from the Rock Gods above, give it up for the Rock Angel herself. (Y/n) Kline!” then 100,000 people screamed loudly as the curtains were drawn away and the cameras faced me and Jack and I stepped out on stage together.

We gave each other a kiss and I walked up to the mic as Jack got himself plugged in and warmed up, we began my time slot. The following songs I had decided to sing were.

Shallow (after so much debate, Jack sang with me)

As the crowd applauded me and Jack as we kissed each other once again for the camera and he put down the acoustic and grabbed a bass as my next song began.

So good

I grabbed a tambourine and gave it a little rattle before giving it a couple of slaps to my palm as i said.

“You all wanna know about a dirty ol city girl I know about?“ The crowd roared with applause as i cackled into the mic before crying out, “1 2 3 4!“ The drummer immediately came in and I came in with the song “Who I am.“ Slamming the tambourine to the beat against my hip.

The guitar coming in after I sang the first verse and as I got to the chorus, I could see people jumping up and down singing along to the song holding up signs with my stage name.

Who I am

“Alright! You all having fun?“ The crowd cheered. “Oh c’mon that was pathetic. I said are you having fun Wembley!?“ The cheers got louder and I grinned. “Who wants to go for a trip around the world?“ The crowd all roared out in excitement and I turned to the guitar player and nodded to him and he began my next song which made everyone cheer.

Rock the World

As the crowd cheered I exhaled heavily.  Whoo performing five months pregnant was harder than usual.  I walked across the stage and one of the volunteers helped me sit down at the piano and i gave it a couple of tune ups for my last song.  I adjusted the mic and said.

“This last song goes out to everyone of who is contributing to this amazing event. Not just to the performers and hundreds and thousands of volunteers here. But to all of you watching and contributing to this organization.” The crowd applauded and I even saw some of the volunteers clap as well.  “I know the world isn’t a perfect place, but it’s thanks to people like you who help make it better, and.....” I placed my hand over my stomach and said into the mic again, “And help it for the next generation of little ones.” 

I cleared my throat and drank a cup of water that stood by the piano and I said into the mic.

“This song is not only about making the world a better place, but forgiving those who have done us wrong,“ I looked behind me and I could see the guys in the wings standing there looking at me, I locked my eyes with Freddie as I continued, “And mending the bond we once had.“ I turned back around and began playing my last song, the song that Jack got to see me film a music video for.

I kept at the piano up until the acoustic break.  I stood up and was handed a spare mic by a volunteer and played a couple more notes on the piano before walking center stage and as the song picked up for the final time, I raised my right hand in the air and swayed it from left to right and soon I saw everyone’s hands or signs going in the air, swaying like banners in the wind.

Bridge of Light 

*3rd Person POV*

As (y/n) now came onto the stage and had over 100,000 people including some of the volunteers, and Miami who was up at the sound controls sway their hands in the air by the last chorus watching his intern turned superstar with tears of pride in his eyes.

But of course none were more proud of her, than the four boys of Queen.  John Deacon with a hand over his heart and tears in his eyes watched with pride at his little sister sing her heart out and much like Freddie own the stage like it was hers.

Brian May and Roger Taylor who couldn’t wipe the wide smiles on their faces with tears in their eyes as they softly sung along with the girl who was like a daughter to them.

And then there was Freddie Mercury.  The one who first heard the voice of this lovely angel just short of five years ago.  He who taught her everything on how to be a performer and seeing her now on probably the biggest stage and performance she could have in her young life, it was like he wasn’t even looking at the shy college girl turned singer.

She had become a true angel.  And he couldn’t be more proud of her than this very moment.

*My POV*

At the end of my time slot, the entire crowd was cheering and applauding and chanting out “ANGEL! ANGEL! ANGEL!” Tears in my eyes I felt Jack wrap his arms around me and kissed me one last time before the camera and the crowd which enticed more cheers.  We took our final bows interlocking hands with each other before leaving the stage.

As we walked across the stage back to my trailer, I could hear the sound of claps and volunteers and other performers telling me I did amazing out there.  But soon there were four voices who stood out to me.

It was my boys.

“Ahh Brava! Brava Klines!” Freddie praised.

“Oh darling you both were fantastic out there!” Brian said as he was the first one to come up and hug me.

“Thanks Bri.” I said as we separated.

“You were glowing on that stage love, I’m so proud of you.” Roger said as he hugged me next.

“You were a true star up on that stage. You too Jack, you’ve made me proud.” John said as he hugged me and then moved to Jack placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks Deacy” Jack thanked him. The two of them hugged and that’s when I heard an unfamiliar Irish accent say.

“I can now see why Freddie spoke so highly of you.” I turned to see a man standing alongside Mary and her new husband David. This man had the same style of tache as Freddie did, he was a bit plump but unlike Paul he had a more kinder aurora about him.

“(Y/n) this is Jim Hutton, Jim and I are, well…..” Freddie took Jim’s hand and I knew right away what Freddie meant.  I smiled and held out my hand and said.

“Nice to meet you Jim, maybe after the show the four of us could get some coffee later. I’d really like to get to know you more.”

“You as well, and that husband of yours. Freddie’s told me nothing but how you two were meant for each other, and I can already see you both look incredibly happy, and are expecting I assume?”

“Yeah our first child actually.” Jack said as he wrapped his arms around my bump.

“Well congratulations to you both.” He said with a soft smile. We thanked him and soon more performers went up to perform until finally it was the boys turn.

As the boys now got ready I stood with Jack, Mary, David, and Jim.

“Knock ‘em dead, my boys” I said with a smile and gave them each a kiss for luck.  Freddie got himself pumped up and then my boys raced out onto the stage.  Roger on the drums, Brian with his guitar, Deacy taking the bass and Fred sat down at the piano.

After warming up their instruments, Freddie played the opening notes of “Bohemian Rhapsody” which had the crowd going crazy and as Freddie began to sing, the crowd joined in singing.  As I was in the wings, Jack’s arms around me as we gently swayed side to side I softly sang the song along with Freddie, so happy to see my boys playing together again.

Right after Brian’s guitar solo, the song transitioned to Roger’s song “Radio Gaga”. Freddie got up from the piano and as usual, he owned the stage like it was his and had the audience engaged as he pranced around the stage and began to sing.

This one more upbeat had me tapping my foot and at the chorus, over 100,000 people had their hands raised and clapped along as they sang along.  I even felt a light kick in rhythm at the times of the claps.  I jolted and held Jack’s hands to my bump and I knew he could feel the kicks.  We smiled at each other widely and kissed each other.

After Radio Gaga Freddie gave the crowd a well earned “Ay-oh” vocal callback.  Hearing him either stretch out the note or do a quick nip and having the audience sing it back to him had me smiling widely and shaking my head as I muttered playfully.

“Show off.” Jack chuckled and rocked me back and forth as now “Hammer to fall” started playing.

The two of us bobbed our heads to the rhythm. The crowd singing the song along with Freddie and at the end everyone was cheering hysterically.  I clapped from the wings along with everyone else and just when I was expecting another Queen song to come up, something else happened.

Roger began pounding on the drums in a single beat, a beat that was familiar to me.  Oh my god, they weren’t….. 

I thought they were gonna do “Crazy little thing called love” next.

Soon the audience was clapping and I heard Freddie say into the microphone to the beats of the drum.

“An-gel! An-gel! An-gel!” Soon the crowd was chanting out my name once more and that’s when one of the assistants came to me and handed me a microphone.  I turned to Jack and he smiled at me as did Mary, David and Jim.

I took the microphone and turned it on and began to sing as I walked towards the stage.

*Me (Queen)*

I followed my heart into the fire

Got burned, got broken down by desire

I tried, I tried but the smoke in my eyes

Left me blurry, blurry and blind

At that point I put the microphone in the mic stand and Freddie quickly tossed me a tambourine to which I caught with one hand and soon the crowd screamed hysterically as my first ever breakout song “Set it all free” began playing.

I picked all the pieces up off the ground

I’ve burned all my fingers but that’s gone now

Got the glue in my hands

I’m stickin’ to the plan

Stickin’ to the plan that says

“I can do anything at all”

I can do anything at all

Freddie nodded to me before going straight to the piano and soon it was like I was transported back in time to the very first time I played with Queen when they helped me make the song that made me the Rock Angel.  All the while people in the crowd were jumping up and down and singing along with me. Holding up signs for both me and Queen.

This is my kiss goodbye

You can stand alone and watch me fly

‘Cause nothing’s keeping me down gonna let it all up

Come on and say right now, right now, right now

This is my big hello

'Cause I’m giving, never letting go

I can finally see, it’s not just a dream

When you set it all free, all free, all free

You set it all free

(Oh oh oh)

(Oh oh oh)

(Oh oh oh)

I smiled as I kept the rhythm with my tambourine and soon took the mic off the stand and strutted as best I could across the stage as I walked up to Freddie and shared the mic with him as both our voices carried in a brief duet with each other. Foreheads touching each other’s as we gazed intensely into each other’s eyes grinning at each other.

I was a girl caught under your thumb

But my star’s gonna shine brighter than your sun

And I will reach so high (so high),

Shoot so far (shoot so far)

*Me and Fred*

(She’s) Gonna hit, gonna hit, hit every target

Make it count this time

I (She) will make it count this time

*Me*

This is my kiss goodbye

You can stand alone and watch me fly

'Cause nothing’s keeping me down

I’m gonna let it all out

Come on and say right now, right now, right now

This is my big hello

'Cause I’m here and never letting go

I can finally see,

It’s not just a dream

When you set it all free, all free, all free

You set it all free (oh oh oh)

You set it all free (oh oh oh)

You set it all free (oh oh oh)

At the guitar solo that I had made myself, Brian picked up the solo and I was amazed that he had actually mastered the solo that once even made him quiver. I hollered into the mic as I stood by him and praised him calling out his name.

Finally the acapella section kicked in with Deacy lightly strumming on bass.  I allowed the audience to sing the song and I was so happy to hear the audience sing my song right back to me, knowing each lyric word for word till I came back on the chorus.

*Crowd*

This is my kiss goodbye

You can stand alone and watch me fly

'Cause nothing’s keeping me down

I’m gonna let it all out

Come on and say right now, right now, right now

*Me*

This is my big "hello”

'Cause I’m here and never letting go

I can finally see,

It’s not just a dream

When you set it all free, all free, all free

You set it all free (oh oh oh)

You set it all free (oh oh oh)

You set it all free (oh oh oh)

You set it all free (oh oh oh)

You set it all free

At the end of the song, there was a loud roar of applause.  I smiled ecstatically as the boys all came up to me just like the first time I sang this song and quickly embraced me in a group hug before resuming their position.

Then Roger began doing the three part intro to “We Will rock you.” The audience clapped the first two times before the third clap was their hands going in the air.  Figuring it’d be rude to just leave, I kept my spot next to Brian and Freddie came center stage as I slammed the tambourine against my hip as well as doing the stomp stomp and then clapping my hands with the tambourine in tack. 

Soon Freddie began the first chorus and then allowed the crowd to sing the chorus a few times as Brian slowly came in about ready to do his guitar solo.

Freddie then went back to the piano and as per usual, especially in America, with following the song of “We will rock you” came “We are the Champions”. Fred took over the first verse as he played the piano.

*Freddie*

I've paid my dues Time after time I've done my sentence But committed no crime And bad mistakes I've made a few I've had my share of sand kicked in my face But I've come through

At the chorus, he stood up and much like with my last song as everyone sang along, waving their signs like banners and their hands swaying from side to side, Fred sang with such power and rawness, commanding the audience like a captain controls his vessel.

We are the champions, my friends And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end We are the champions We are the champions No time for losers 'Cause we are the champions of the world

It wasn’t until that by the end of the first chorus that as Freddie went back to the Piano, he then said into the mic.

“Take it my Rock Angel.“ The audience who agreed cheered loudly.  I turned to Fred before nodding to him and began the next verse.

As I sung the verse though, to show my appreciation to the guys for everything they’ve done to me. One by one starting with Brian I touched his arm before leaning into him for a hug.  

As I came up to Roger on the drum stand, I blew him a kiss and he acknowledged it by nodding and sending a wink my way.  I then went up to Deacy and I leaned against him much like I did with Brian and he leaned his head on top of mine.

By the time I reached the ‘no bed of roses’ line I now stood behind Fred and wrapped an arm around his shoulders leaning as best as I could gently swaying him as I rested my chin on top of his head before giving my voice a vibrato at the last word. 

*Me*

I've taken my bows And my curtain calls You brought me fame and fortune 

And everything that goes with it I thank you all (*screams it into the mic and pointing out to the crowd*)

But it's been no bed of roses No pleasure cruise I consider it a challenge before the whole human race And I ain't gonna lose

As Roger banged on the drums and Fred now stood up, He took my free hand and he raised both our intertwined hands high in the air as we walked across to center stage.

He then held my hand out and as gently as I could, I spun around him, kinda like how a professional ballerina would as her partner holds her out as we both sung the second chorus before rejoining our hands together in a proud shake as we locked eyes with each other, our voices blending perfectly together just like before.

The two of us joined once again after all this time starting a new chapter and rebuilding the bond I thought was lost forever.

*Both*

We are the champions, my friends And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end We are the champions We are the champions No time for losers 'Cause we are the champions of the world

We are the champions, my friends And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end We are the champions We are the champions No time for losers 'Cause we are the champions

Freddie and I got into a silent argument of who would sing the last note. He wanted me to take it but I told him to take it, it went on back and forth between us until finally he gave in and took it.  

*Freddie*

Of the World!

His hand raising high into the air.

Almost as if he were punching a hole in the sky.

I smiled and shook my tambourine all the while staring at my idol Freddie Mercury as he held that note for a beautiful long time, before blowing a kiss out to the audience.  Roger, Deacy and Bri jamming out on the last note until they stopped and the crowd was louder than any sport stadium.

The boys came down and we all formed a line having our arms around each other’s backs or shoulders staring out into the audience.

And I’ll tell you; being surrounded by my boys once more before an audience and performing with them once again all five of us together, it felt like I was home again.

We waved to the audience before hugging each other on a job well done.

Freddie was the first one to leave the stage, followed by Deacy while Brian, Roger and I stayed for a brief moment staring out into the audience a little longer.  They each wrapped an arm around my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around their backs and the three of us walked off the stage together.

Now backstage everyone was applauding us on a well-earned show.

“You were amazing out there, all five of you.” Mary said as she hugged each of us.

“Thanks Mary.” I said.

“You truly are the Rock Angel, especially when you perform alongside Freddie and the others.” Jim said.

“Much Appreciated, Jim.”  I then turned to Jack and said. “Babe, what did you think?” He smirked at me as he came up to me and wrapped his arms around me and bent me over in a light dip before capturing my lips with his.

I smiled in the kiss as he quickly brought me back right side up but kept his lips right on mine as our kiss became more passionate.  Once we finally separated he said.

“You were a rock star, I’m so lucky and proud to call you my wife. And I know our baby’s gonna feel the same to call you their mom.” He bent down and kissed my stomach as I brushed through his hair. Soon it began an all-out group hug.

Live Aid had successfully gone over their goal to help with the hunger relief, but it truly did not go above and beyond until both Queen and (y/n) Kline the Rock Angel sang individually.

But when they performed together, the donations went over 2 million pounds breaking the all-time record that the BBC had ever done for a charity event.

[dailytomlinson]

Louis Tomlinson was left sour-faced after begging Simon Cowell to save his act Armstrong Martins but to no avail.

The former One Direction star lost Armstrong in the first double elimination on Sunday night's result show, as he was sent home - alongside Olatunji Yearwood - following Simon's deciding vote.  

Armstrong was forced to go head-to-head with Janice Robinson in the sing-off and while his mentor championed his performance, Simon chose to ignore Louis' pleas and ended Armstrong's time in the competition.

Robbie decided to support wife Ayda and voted to send Armstrong home, telling the hopefuls: 'Two extreme talents... can't believe either of you are right in front of me right now. I'm going to keep it sweet and simple, the act I'm sending home is Armstrong.'

That left Simon with the deciding vote and Louis gave it everything he could to persuade his boss and close pal to give Armstrong another chance in the competition.

He told the music mogul: 'If we had a meeting tomorrow you would sign him tomorrow... I'm that confident.'

Simon already appeared to have his mind made up, as he ignored Louis' pleas and decided to save Janice's place on the show.

Prior to making his decision, Simon had debated between the two acts. He said: 'I'm going to be honest with both of you - why I think you're both here is even with those save me songs they weren't the right songs for you.

'Armstrong you are interesting, Janice we've lost you since your first audition, you are the better singer but Armstrong you're interesting.'

Janice gave an emotional performance of Miley Cyrus' track The Climb. Ayda showed her full support for the former 90s singer, as she stood throughout Janice's performance and vigorously applauded the hopeful.

Armstrong sang his rendition of Phil Collins' hit True Colours. Like Janice, his performance was full of emotional as the star gave it his all. Louis said he was 'absolutely speechless and gutted' to see Armstrong in the sing-off. He said: 'What I see in Armstrong is an artist, not a contestant.'

Fans watching at home were quick to throw their support behind Armstrong, with many criticising Simon's decision to send him home.

They penned in fury: 'How’s Armstrong in the bottom 3!?

'is there a wild card thing on the show?? bc armstrong really deserves to come back

'Well I think that's enough for today... I'm just so mad because of Armstrong leaving the competition.

'ayda and robbie are always gonna save each other’s acts & simon is just a d**khead who wants to disagree with everything louis says for the fun of it. not fair at all.

Ahead of Armstrong's exit from The X Factor, Olatunji was given the boot as he received the fewest votes from the public.

Ayda seemed devastated to see the star go, as she told host Dermot: 'I'm completely devastated. I just don't get it. He smashed it last night. He brought the house down. He's an incredible human being.'

Olatunji thanked the show for the 'opportunity' as he gracefully bowed out of the series.

Simon, meanwhile, successfully had all his acts sent through to the second week of live shows, as did Robbie.

Danny Tetley was seen eagerly celebrating as he was the second to last act to be put through, while Robbie's boyband United Vibe secured the last spot going forward.

At the beginning of Sunday night's results show, Dermot O'Leary left viewers amused as he joked he doesn't get paid enough on The X Factor.

The show host couldn't resist making a dig at boss Simon, after the judging panel decided to get cheeky with him at the beginning of Sunday night's results show.

Asking Simon which acts could be under threat ahead of the first live elimination of the singing competition, the music mogul referenced X Factor's double axing, as he joked: 'I think two will go tonight.'

Sighing with dismay, Dermot rolled his eyes and vented in response: 'This is what i have to work with for six months of the year,' before adding: 'They don't pay me enough.'

Following the first live show, two acts are set to leave the competition after giving it their all for The X Factor's Greatest Showman themed first week titled 'This Is Me'.

Fans were treated to a special performance from star of the hit movie Kaela Settle, who took to the stage with the track that has made her a household name.

Sharing her advice for the contestants following her performance, she said: 'What you're already doing is enough. Stick to your guns when you forget how good you are you've got people around you to remind you.'

2017 winners Rak-Su also took to the stage to perform their new single I Want You To Freak. Speaking to host Dermot following their performance, they said: 'It feels amazing to perform in front of everybody who helped me and my friends have the 12 months of a lifetime.'

Asked who they were rooting for this time round, Rak-Su picked out Anthony Russell for the 'perseverance' he has shown, auditioning for The X Factor multiple times before reaching the live shows.

The 12 finalists have now been whittled down to 10, with both Simon and Robbie still successfully having all four of their acts left in the competition.

Simon is mentoring the girls; Bella Penfold, 19, Molly Scott, 16, Scarlett Lee, 20, and Shan, 25.

Robbie has the groups; A*, LMA Choir, Misunderstood and Vibe 5.

Following Sunday's double elimination Ayda has Danny Tetley, 37, Giovanni Spano, 33, and Janice, 37, left in her category, while Louis has Anthony Russell, 28, Brendan Murray, 21, and Dalton Andre Harris, 24.

The X Factor came under fire with viewers, with many claiming this series should be the show's last as they hit out at the quality of hopefuls competing in the live shows.

Simon is mentoring the girls; Bella Penfold, 19, Molly Scott, 16, Scarlett Lee, 20, and Shan, 25.

Robbie has the groups; A*, LMA Choir, Misunderstood and Vibe 5.

Following Sunday's double elimination Ayda has Danny Tetley, 37, Giovanni Spano, 33, and Janice, 37, left in her category, while Louis has Anthony Russell, 28, Brendan Murray, 21, and Dalton Andre Harris, 24.

The X Factor's first live show came under fire with viewers, with many claiming this series should be the show's last as they hit out at the quality of hopefuls competing as finalists.

Taking to Twitter, disgruntled viewers penned: 'Surely this is the last series of #xfactor !? Having Robbie and Ada are just scraping the barrel now!' One fan wrote, leading the troops.

Definitely the last series of #XFactor. It’s absolutely on its a**e.

'There was some rubbish on tonight. #XFactor'; 'WTF is this rubbish?'; 'Have to say on the whole #xfactor has been utter rubbish tonight.

'#XFactor this should be the last series simon dont even give a s**t about what his girls sing.' (sic)

X Factor's first live show was hampered with a massive error when the voiceover introduced Danny Tetley as Anthony Russel on Saturday. Nail-biting scenes saw the X Factor contestant stop mid-performance before restarting his song on the live show of the series.

Yet 'tearful' fans praised the singer for not letting the 'stupid mistake' unsettle him when he had to start belting out his vocals once again.However, it wasn't long before the outspoken judges turned on each other during the live show of the competition.

X Factor fans were seething with bosses for silencing Louis Tomlinson's microphone when he fought with Robbie Williams over One Direction on Saturday.

The Let Me Entertain You hitmaker ripped into Louis' former band One Direction when Simon Cowell criticised his group United Vibe during the first live show. Much to the distaste of One Direction's biggest fans, Robbie claimed his band United Vibe were 'leaps and bounds' ahead of the chart-topping boy group.

He asserted: 'You’re leaps and bounds ahead of One Direction. Better place than Take That one month in. These boys are going places.'

But before Louis could speak to defend One Direction, the X Factor bosses muted his microphone without any warning.

Fuming fans rushed to social media to share their frustration that the singer wasn't allowed to respond to Robbie's undercutting comment. The clash started because Simon made a sly dig at former boybander Robbie about United Vibe's image wasn't 'messy' enough for a boy band.

He said: 'This was better than I thought it was going to be. It all looks too stage at the moment. I don't need to tell you Robbie. It works when it's messy and fun.'

United Vibe, who were originally five singers put together as a group by the judges, drove fans wild on Twitter with their own version of former One Direction Niall Horan's song Slow Hands.

Keen to impress his mentor Louis, Armstrong Martins also sang a One Direction hit Story Of My Life when he showcased his incredible vocals.

Elsewhere on the show, Shan showcased her sensational vocals, even though Simon was away during her rehearsals this week and could only support via his phone.

Robbie confessed: 'I'm falling in love with you. You're the kindest woman in here, apart from my lovely wife.'

Ayda responded: 'I'm ok with Robbie falling in love with you. I have a spirit crush on you. I'd have super human power to sing just like that, SO WOULD ROBBIE.'

Olatunji impressed judges when he hit all the right notes with his own song he wrote just ten days ago before performing on Saturday's X Factor.

Back on the X Factor for a second time to prove she deserves a spot in the competition, Scarlett Lee sang her heart out to Aretha Franklin's A Natural Woman. The singer got a standing ovation from all four of the judges following her show-stopping performance.

Acacia and Aaliyah, who are only 14 and 15, put on a quirky performance when they sang Finesse by Bruno Mars and Cardi B.

Louis claimed: 'I love you two as individuals. I was expecting a bit more street than you. In general I was waiting for a little bit more.'

Ayda agreed: 'I totally agree I love you guys. I think you lost something. Too much stuff going on.' Robbie teased Simon: 'He is going through the man-a-pause. And unlike me, I think you can break America.'

Dalton Harris left everyone gobsmacked with his powerful performance of Life on Mars to close the show.

Louis said: 'I was so excited. I showed you off. I can comfortably say that was the best vocal of the night.'

[switchdnp]

i sent the ask about femdom and sub!dnp and CAN U PLEASE WRITE THAT??? PLEASE UR SUCH A GOOD WRITER IM BEGGING YOU

word count: 2533 

warnings: dom/sub themes, praise, teasing, fingering, blowjobs, dan eats pussy thank the lord, way way WAY too much buildup its ridiculous

a/n: hi yall my mental and physical health hasnt been the best lately so this took me like a billion years, i hope it was worth the wait !! not proofread at all and some of it written in the middle of a flare lmao so im super sorry if theres any obvious obnoxious typos!!

“Hey, are you sure you want to do this? We can always back out if you want.”

Phil hadn’t been expecting to say those words tonight, not when they were just going out for a small party, invited by a few of their friends for a celebration over something they couldn’t even quite remember. He especially hadn’t been expecting to say them in their current context, with him and his boyfriend in the bed of someone else–someone else who happened to be a woman—waiting together for her.

They’d met her at the party, a few drinks and a whole lot of flirting leading the both of them back to her house. Maybe it was just how sweet she was, how both Dan and Phil had been longing for the possibility of another threesome, too long a time since their last one (A whole seven months, actually, and honestly, they shouldn’t keep record of those things, but Dan demanded they mark the occasion every time.) But really, what most likely ended them up in this situation was how curious they were.

It had been so long since either of them had sex with a woman. Even when they invited in others to their bedroom, however rare that event was, they were almost always men. It wasn’t like they didn’t want to, it just seemed like for whatever reason, it never happened. So when the chance for such a thing happened to arrive, nothing was stopping Dan or Phil from snatching it up the second they could. They were both horny bastards, after all.

Samantha was her name, Sammy for short, and the way she held herself piqued Dan’s interest from the beginning, all the way back at the party. She was so confident, absolutely taking control of the room with her self-assured presence. He mentioned it to Phil absentmindedly, and Phil had burst into a fit of giggles, murmuring that Dan acted the same way.

“You must be attracted to yourself, then.”He’d laughed, taking another sip of whatever moderately alcoholic thing they were drinking together—always together, of course. They couldn’t not share anything, not even drinks.

“You’d be into that. Two Dans, going at each other.”Dan teased in return, chuckling at the way Phil blanched immediately.

“Surprisingly, no. And even if I did like that, I’d much rather be actually involved in the action.”

“Oh, so you want all the attention,” Dan continued to banter, wrapping an arm around Phil and kissing the side of his head, even as he frowned and cringed at the words. “well I can’t deny you that, you are pretty cute after all.”

“Is that the only reason you keep me around, to be cute?”Phil asked, giving into Dan’s affections and resting his head on his shoulder, wanting to be closer, as close as they could be in a public place. Dan didn’t get a chance to answer, however, because that’s when Sammy came over. She initiated the conversation so easily and flawlessly it nearly made Phil’s head spin, unable to imagine how someone could socialize with so little effort.

A few minutes in and they were already head over heels, Phil especially. She reminded him so much of Dan, had the same attitude and personality, even down to the way she smirked when she teased them, and giggled when she got teased back. It was so easy talking to her, like they’d known her for years, instead of what was probably only half an hour. The flirting and questions came naturally, questions about what they wanted to do, if they really wanted to do anything.

The decision was easy to make, and that’s how they’d ended up here. Dan was curled up with his head in Phil’s lap, too lazy to properly sit up until Sammy came back in the room. He took a deep breath, let out an even deeper sigh, and after a little bit of thinking he was ready to answer Phil’s question.

“I mean, I want to, I honestly do. I’m a little intimidated since it’s been so long, but it’s not like anything bad is gonna happen.” He muttered, tapping his thumb against Phil’s knee. Phil giggled, and brought Dan’s hand up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to his thumb to try and sooth his fidgeting.

“Besides, it’s not like eating ass and eating pussy can be that different, right? And I eat you out all the time.”Dan added, making Phil whine and scold him. His cheeks were red, and as embarrassed as he was, Dan could tell he loved it. Before he could further fluster his boyfriend, Sammy was opening the door, walking in with the same confidence she’d had at the party. She’d undressed, down to her underwear, and somehow that made Dan and Phil feel self conscious about still having their clothes on. Just as Phil started tugging his hoodie off, Sammy stopped him, murmuring out a stern, yet gentle, “Wait, hold on.”

Phil froze like he’d been caught committing a crime, and Dan couldn’t help but snort at the expression on his face.

“Don’t worry, I just wanted to ask you what exactly you wanted to really be doing tonight. Before we actually got into stuff.”She reassured, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Her slick brown hair was pulled up into a pony tail, and it bounced every time she moved. If they were in any other context, Dan would’ve commented on how cute that was. As things were, he didn’t think now would be the right time.

“Well, we’re good for anything, really. Is there anything you had in mind?”Dan explained, knowing Phil would rather him speak for the both of him. He was much shyer, stumbled over his words in situations like these, and it was just easier for Dan to say what they wanted.

“Actually, I kind of wanted to maybe be the one in charge? If that was okay with you?”

That question set off a reaction in Dan’s head, a sort of rush of adrenaline shooting through his body, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Neither of them had ever been dommed by a woman, but the opportunity seemed incredibly appealing right now. He glanced over to Phil, and his boyfriend nodded in response to the question he didn’t even have to ask. He liked the idea too.

“Yes, we’re both okay with that. More than okay with it, actually.”Dan replied, his knees starting to feel a little weak as he realized what was about to happen. He’d never done this before. Sure, he’d fantasized about it, especially when he was a lonely teenager with only his hand and a whole lot of low quality porn to keep him content, but the idea that that fantasy was finally coming true was more than a little nerve wracking, and a whole lot exciting.

“Okay, how about you two start by getting undressed then, yeah? Make it quick, be good for me.”Sammy instructed, the grin on her face turning cheekier as she let herself slip into headspace. They both did as they were told, Phil struggling with his jeans a little more than Dan. Sammy chuckled playfully, helping him tug them down, and that relieved any of the excess nerves and tension in the room.

She let her fingers trace delicately along Phil’s thighs once the jeans were off, skimming over the sensitive skin, and dragging her pointer finger all the way down to crease of his hip. Her hand was dangerously close to his quickly hardening cock, but Phil knew it was far too early in the night for her to be touching him yet. He was familiar with that method of teasing, Dan using it on him all too often. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it though.

Sammy noticed the way he was holding back, trying to keep his hips from bucking, and she smirked at him.

“Good boy, just stay still for me.”She praised, her other hand drifting up to Phil’s chest now. She didn’t miss the way Phil quivered when her thumb brushed over a nipple, glancing over to Dan and asking “He’s sensitive here, isn’t he?”

Dan nodded, “Yeah, he goes absolutely crazy. I made him cum just from his nipples once, took a lot of work to get him there.”

Phil was just about to tell him off for bringing that old memory up when one of Sammy’s hands finally wrapped around the head of his cock, just the faintest of touches, but more than enough to take him by surprise. He leaned forward with it as she started to jerk him off, resting his head in the crook of her neck. Sammy reached up with her free hand to run her fingers through his hair, and that little jealous instinct in the back of Dan’s mind piqued at the sight, something in his chest growing tighter when he thought about how many times he’d been in the same position with Phil. But he pushed it aside, instead focusing on how gorgeous his boyfriend looked getting pleasured, his eyes fluttered shut and lower lip caught between his teeth now.

Sammy turned to face Dan as she continued to get Phil off, eyes glancing down to his hard, neglected cock. She gave him permission to touch himself, and within seconds Dan was wrapping his hand around the leaking tip, rubbing a thumb through his slit repeatedly. The sudden onslaught of stimulation was enough to have Dan shivering, his hips twitching sporadically.

After a few more minutes like that, Sammy switched her attention over to Dan, pressing their lips together first. It was odd, kissing someone who wasn’t Phil. Dan had almost forgotten he was capable of it. It was even more with Phil sitting right beside him, watching everything go down, and getting off to it. Before he knew it, Sammy was leaning back and spreading her legs, leading Dan down to where he could sit comfortably on his stomach in between them. Her hand tangled in his hair, and she pushed his head down, letting him know what she wanted from him.

He kissed over her labia, letting his tongue dip between the two folds, lapping up the growing wetness there. Sammy moaned, and Dan could hear Phil moan in time with her, hear the sound of skin slapping gradually speeding up, letting him know just how much Phil was enjoying this. They both spurred him on, encouraged him to try even harder as he licked over her clit, dragging his tongue slow and careful, almost hesitant as he tried to remember how exactly he’d done this with his old girlfriend.

“Just like that, keep it up sweetheart.”Sammy half-instructed half-groaned, letting herself get caught up in the sensations. It felt so good, too good, and for a moment she was almost worried about losing her composure. She whined again, and Dan’s confidence spiked. He buried his face deeper, alternating between sucking on her clit and circling it with his tongue. He was so invested he barely noticed when Sammy brought Phil over to let him kiss her too, her tongue slipping in his mouth.

She pulled away for a second to speak, “Phil, I want you to finger Dan for me, make him feel good and later I’ll let you cum, okay baby?”

Phil nodded and pulled the lube out of her bedside drawer, slicking his fingers up before circling one around Dan’s rim. Dan moaned against Sammy, the vibrations from his mouth making her thighs shiver around his head. She wrapped her fingers around Phil’s cock once more, dipping a thumb through his slit, and playing with the leaking precum there. He shuddered, hips bucking up without control now.

A second finger pushed past Dan’s rim, and he clenched tight around it, wanting to remind Phil of how nice that felt squeezing around his dick. He was successful, if the way Phil started finger-fucking him faster then, dragging his fingers in and out and rubbing roughly against his prostate, was anything to go by. His cock was practically throbbing now, wound up beyond relief and ready to cum at any second. Honestly, he hadn’t gotten this close this quickly in ages, and maybe it was from the extended foreplay, but Dan had a feeling something about the rush of a whole new experience was playing a part in how he could already feel his orgasm building in his gut.

Sammy was getting close too, he could tell, and he doubled his efforts in hopes of getting her there just from his tongue, it’d worked for Phil plenty of times, after all. Sammy’s fingers gripped tighter in his hair and pushed him even harder, as if trying to keep control of Dan’s mouth, use him in the best way possible. The thought, combined with Phil pressing in a third finger at the same time, was enough to send Dan over the edge, and he came whimpering into her, hips rutting pitifully against the soft bed as he rode out the last waves of his release. Phil pulled out his fingers when the stimulation started to border on painful, Sammy followed soon after, her lips parted, mouth dropped agape as she hit her high. It reminded Dan of how Phil looked when he came, and honestly, that shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did.

Just as Dan started to properly settle down, Phil was whining for the attention back on him, his cock now completely untouched, dark red at the tip. Sammy didn’t even need to give him instructions before Dan was pushing Phil’s dick past his lips. suppressing what little gag reflex he had left after years of sucking cock, and taking him down to the hilt. He swallowed around Phil, his throat fluttering on the tip of his dick, and Phil was cumming within seconds, not needing much after having been teased the whole night.

Phil panted as he came back down, falling back on the bed, and savoring how nice the cold sheets felt on his overheated skin. Sammy chuckled at the display, getting up and grabbing a wet cloth from the bathroom. She cleaned him and Dan up, praising them both for having done such a good job, and helping them shift out of subspace.

She climbed into the bed next to them, seemingly unfazed by the concept of sleeping with two strangers (if they could really be called strangers after all that) beside her, but Dan and Phil took it in stride. The mattress was comfortable anyways, more comfortable than the one they had at home. They could sleep here for the night.

– mod sasha

[elleberquist6]

Play Upon Me Like This Piano - chapter eighteen

Summary: In many ways, Phil’s life is perfect: he loves his life in London, he has a wonderful brother and parents, and he has a great job as a radio DJ for BBC Radio One. There’s only one thing missing in his life… A rumor reaches an executive at the BBC about a talented local piano player named Daniel. The executive decides that Daniel would be the perfect guest on Phil’s radio show, so she sends Phil to speak with the evasive and mysterious piano player.

When they finally meet, Phil starts to think that he has found the person who will make his life complete. Unfortunately, Dan has a secret that will make getting close to him difficult.

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1691

Warnings: Smut

—

Siren fact: Competition with the Muses: After some time, Hera came to visit the Sirens on their lonely island. She had heard praise for their songs, full of beauty and anguish, and she was not disappointed by the live performance! So the goddess decided to give the girls a challenge. She invited them to enter a singing contest against the nine muses. After consulting together, the Sirens agreed to enter the contest. Of course, they had heard of the Muses’ legendary music, but they also knew that the power of their own songs.

The competition produced some of the most haunting music that the Greeks had ever heard, with the Sirens pouring all of their arresting heartache into their music. Still, the Muses—goddesses of music, where the Sirens were mere mortals—won the competition. To celebrate, they plucked out the Sirens’ feathers and made crowns for themselves. The Sirens returned to their island in humiliation. [https://mythology.net/greek/greek-creatures/siren/]

By the time Dan finished his coffee, the pain killers had kicked in and he felt more like himself. After putting the empty mug in the sink, he walked to the bathroom to see if Phil had an unopened toothbrush he could use. He found one in a linen closet with the towels and tore open the package. When he was spitting foamy toothpaste into the sink, he heard Phil’s alarm clock going off in the next room. As he rinsed his mouth, the alarm stopped making noise and he knew that Phil must be awake.

Dan looked at his reflection in the mirror. There was a smile on his face, put there at just the thought of seeing Phil. Dan hastily combed his fingers through his tangled fringe, wanting to look good when Phil saw him this morning, but his fingers got caught in the dried blood he hadn’t realized was clumping his curls. He winced and the motion tugged at his sore scalp as he extracted his fingers from the knots.

Sighing, Dan gave up on the idea of looking good. It’s not as if fixing his hair would improve his looks much, since his forehead under the curls was black and blue around the cut. Really though, Phil had seen him at his worst last night. Hopefully the morning after wouldn’t come as a shock. Dan was startled from his thought when the bathroom door was flung open. Phil stood in the doorway, gaping at Dan for a moment before sucking in a shuddering breath. He had a funny look on his face as he continued to stare.

Dan asked, “What is it?”

“I didn’t know where you were.” Phil swallowed heavily before continuing, “I woke up, and you weren’t there. I didn’t know what had happened to you.”

“Oh, Phil, I’m fine.” He stepped closer to give Phil a hug, but Phil leaned in for a kiss instead.

Phil’s lips were warm and soft, and the kiss was gentle. When Phil leaned pulled back from the kiss, his eyes roved over Dan’s face. Dan was watching Phil carefully too, seeing how he had relaxed a bit but still looked worried. He lifted a hand like he wanted to touch Dan’s face, yet didn’t want to hurt him and his eyes lingered on the bruise. Phil asked, “How do you feel?”

Dan shrugged. “I woke up with a headache, but it went away after I took some pills and had some coffee. I feel okay.”

Phil bit his bottom lip. “Maybe I should call out from work? I’m supposed to leave soon, but I can…”

Dan smiled and shook his head. “Go to work. I’ll be fine. I’ll probably just take a nap, and when you get home…” Dan’s eyes widened as he realized he had made an assumption. Would Phil feel comfortable leaving Dan here in his home? This was only the first time Dan had spent the night here, so maybe not. If he couldn’t stay here, where would he go? Not to his own apartment, where the psycho might be waiting. Nowhere else seemed safe. Tentatively, Dan asked, “Is it okay if I stay?”

Phil leaned in to place a kiss very softly on Dan’s cheek. Then he said, “Of course. You can stay as long as you like. And it would make me happy to thing that you’ll be here when I get home from work.”

“I’ll be here,” Dan said with a smile.

After Phil went to work, Dan knew what he wanted to do – he located Phil’s game console in the living room and started playing Mario Kart. Whenever he felt frustrated, nothing helped him to relax more than kicking the asses of random strangers online on Mario Kart. As he joined an online race, Dan smiled. He was picturing the possibility that perhaps he and Phil had unknowingly crossed paths in this way before. Or they may have even been nearer than they thought before, since they both lived in London.

That’s not to say that they met before – Dan felt sure that if he had seen Phil he would remember him – but he liked the idea of them both moving around the city, perhaps standing in the same line at Starbucks, or sitting a row apart in the movie theater, or just randomly walking down the street. As they unknowingly passed nearer and nearer to each other, they moved like ships in the sea being pulled by the current until they finally came to this common destination. The thought warmed Dan’s heart. It felt like fate.

Dan’s phone rung, startling him from his thoughts. The game was on the menu screen, so he just muted it before answering his phone. He hadn’t bothered to check the caller ID, and his heart pounded as he realized it might be the police calling to tell him that they had caught the man who tried to kidnap him. In a breathy voice, Dan asked, “Hello? Who’s calling?”

“Dan! It’s me, Robert.”

“Robert?” Dan’s voice rose in surprise. While he had been forced to see Robert at the bar where they worked, they hadn’t spoken a word to each other since the day Robert accused him of not caring about music and Dan had flipped him off. Unsure why he was calling, Dan asked, “Do you need something?”

“Just calling to check up on you, man. The police knocked on my door this morning to ask me if I saw anything suspicious last night. They told me that someone attacked you! Are you okay?”

“Oh…” Dan’s eyes got a bit misty as Robert’s concern touched him. “I’m going to be alright. Thanks for asking.”

“I am so sorry. I wish I hadn’t let you go outside alone. I could have left the bar with you when you walked home. If I had, then you would have been safe.” Dan started to make a sound of protest because that was ridiculous, but Robert talked over him, “And the worst part was that I saw that bastard! I noticed him staring at the door when you went in the back. He was obviously waiting for you and it was suspicious, but I didn’t do anything! Dan, I’m so sorry. Don’t worry, I gave the police a good description – they’re going to catch this guy.”

“Thanks, Robert. And please don’t blame yourself. None of this was your fault.” Dan bit his lip as he thought about what he’d said to the doctor and Phil at the hospital, as he blamed himself for his attacker’s insanity. Phil had been horrified as he said, Don’t you dare think like that. Not for one second. You’re perfect and you’ve done nothing to deserve being treated like this. As he listened to Robert irrationally blame himself, Dan had to wonder if he had sounded the same way. Did that mean that Dan was wrong to blame himself and Phil was right? Was none of this his fault either?

“I’m just glad to hear you’re okay,” Robert said. “You’re not in the hospital? Are you recovering at home?”

“Oh, I’m at Phil’s actually.”

“Phil… wait, the BBC guy?” Robert laughed in surprise. “How did that happen? The last time I spoke to him he said you didn’t like him.”

“Yeah, the BBC guy,” Dan said, and he chewed on his lip as he thought about what he might have done to make Phil think that. Well, the answer to that question was obvious. He told Robert, “I was being an idiot. I realized that after I got to know Phil a bit better recently.”

“He’s seemed like a nice guy whenever we’ve spoken.” There was a pause in the conversation.

Dan could tell that Robert wanted to ask if he and Phil were just friends or more, but he didn’t want to be rude. Appreciating that Robert wasn’t being nosy, Dan offered, “Yeah, Phil’s a really nice guy. The nicest guy I’ve been with in… well, my whole life. He’s great.”

“That’s awesome,” Robert said with an audible smile. “He sounds like just the sort of person you need in your life right now. I’m glad you’ve got someone like him around, taking care of you.”

“I’m glad, too,” Dan said, thinking about how amazing Phil had been.

There was a pause before Robert said, “Listen, I’ve got to go. But give me a call if you hear from the police please? I want to know the second they catch this bastard. If it seems like they’re not giving your case the attention it deserves, they’re going to get a complaint from me.”

“I’ll call you,” Dan assured him. “And I’ll see you the next time I come to work. Bye!”

As Dan hung up the phone, his stomach squirmed at the thought of going back to work. He couldn’t go back until this kidnapper was caught. He couldn’t even go home. He didn’t feel safe and the only thing grounding him right now was Phil.

Thinking of the note on the calendar on Phil’s fridge, Dan resolved to ask him about it when Phil got home. He couldn’t be alone right now.

[fiction-phan]

New Year, New Beginnings

Day 10 of the 25 Days of Christmas

Summary: "I met you last night when you were drunkenly patting my dog in my backyard at three in the morning and when I asked you what the hell you were doing you slurred something about dogs being great. Then you threw up on my feet and fifteen minutes later you were passed out on my couch so that's why you're here right now. Also what's your name and why the fuck where you patting a dog in a stranger's backyard in the middle of the night?"

Words: 1.1k 

Read it on AO3 

A/N: I'm even sicker than I was yesterday, if that's even possible. So once again, don't expect too much. I'm surprised i even got anything written down to be honest.

Dad did not like to throw parties at his house. There was always a mess to clean up the next day, and the neighbours did not enjoy the loud music in the middle of the night.

Which is why he was adamant not to be the one hosting the annual New Year's Eve party. His friends all wanted him to do the party at his place because his house was the biggest and so could fit more guests.

Dan couldn't deny them forever. As much as he wanted to keep saying no, he knew they had a point. His house was the best option, and he was sure his neighbours could deal with some music for one night.

That is how he found himself serving drinks and snacks on New Year's Eve instead of enjoying the party like all his other friends. "You're the host, it's only fair that you serve the snacks," one of his friends said, ignoring Dan's glare.

Dan didn't even know half of the people milling around his house. When his friends told him they were inviting more people, he wasn't expecting over thirty people he didn't know to show up at his house.

Dan joined the few people he knew for the countdown, glad to take a break from serving drinks. Having his good friends with him to celebrate the beginning of the New Year made him forget about his annoyance and focus on having a good time instead.

His irritation came back in full force around three in the morning, when he walked out in his backyard and found a stranger patting his dog, drunk. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked in confusion.

He didn't know anyone was still out in the backyard and he was shocked over his dog Blaze letting anyone other than himself pat him. It was turning out to be a strange night.

The stranger looked at him, eyes unfocused and Dan rolled his eyes. Everyone had left the party, and he was left alone to deal with some drunk idiot who seemed intent on patting his dog. "Dogs are great. They're better than humans," he slurred.

Dan looked down to hide his smile. Blaze deserved all the praise in the world so anyone giving his dog attention couldn't be that bad in his book.

At least that's what he thought before the stranger scrunched his face and looked up at him as if in pain. "I don't feel so good," he mumbled before he threw up all over Dan's shoes.

Dan tried to step back, but it was too late. "Are you kidding me?!"

He had all intentions of kicking him out of his house and making him pay for his ruined pair of shoes but another look at the stranger caused Dan to change his mind.

The stranger was passed out on the ground and Dan didn't have the heart to wake him up to get him to leave.

Dan never expected to be spending his first few hours of the New Year dragging the unconscious form of a stranger across his backyard and all the way to his couch.

"My first resolution of the year is to go to the gym. God, you're heavy," he panted, trying not to drop him.

*

Dan was preparing coffee when he heard a groan coming from behind him.

"What happened?"

He turned around to find the stranger looking at him in confusion. "You tell me," Dan said, shrugging. "I found you in my backyard last night patting my dog around three in the morning. You threw up on my shoes before I could get you to leave then you passed out and I dragged you to my couch. Want to tell me your name and why the fuck you were patting a dog in a stranger's backyard on New Year's day?"

"I'm Phil," the stranger introduced himself, looking as if he was avoiding having to look at Dan. "I'm so sorry for hanging around until three in the morning. And for patting your dog although let me tell you your dog is great, and you taught him well. Oh, and I'm sorry for throwing up on your shoes. Yeah...I'm especially sorry for that. I swear I'll give you money to buy a new pair."

Dan burst out laughing. "That was a lot of apologies. Don't worry too much about it. I admit the part where you threw up on me wasn't fun but it was amusing watching you pat Blaze and saying what a great dog he is. Blaze was soaking up the attention that's for sure."

Phil chuckled and stood up. "Well, thanks for putting up with me while drunk. I swear I rarely drink so much but my friends convinced me to partake in a drinking game and... what can I say, I get competitive. I'll get out of your hair now and leave you to enjoy your New Year's Day."

"Wait!" Dan said, biting his lip. "I have nothing planned today other than attempting to clean up the mess from the party. Maybe you could stick around for breakfast and some coffee? I always wake up hungry after a night of drinking."

Dan wasn't sure why he was offering Phil to stick around. He would have thought that after the previous night he would be in a rush to get rid of him and get some peace and quiet. But Phil seemed nice, and it helped that he was also attractive.

Dan tried not to think too much over the fact that Phil was exactly his type. Attractive but also a little awkward and quirky.

"I wouldn't want to impose, it's bad enough I spent the night sleeping on your couch."

"You wouldn't be imposing," Dan insisted. "I'm already cooking breakfast for myself. What's one more plate?"

"Fine, but I will help you clean up the place after breakfast. It's the least I can do to thank you for letting me stick around," Phil said with a smile.

Dan agreed and put a plate of fried eggs and bacon in front of him. "It's not a chore to let you help me with the clean up. Maybe afterwards I can introduce you properly to Blaze? He must have liked you if he let you pat him because he gets scared of strangers easily."

"I'd love to spent some more time with Blaze and I'll be sober this time so I'll remember it. Thanks Dan."

"Don't mention it," Dan said, shrugging. "Maybe you could thank me by making me dinner one of these days? Since I made you breakfast." Dan was never that forward with anyone but, seeing the blush on Phil's face, he couldn't help feeling proud of myself.

"I'll do you one better and take you out to dinner. I'm not the best cook, I'm afraid. What do you think?" Phil asked.

"I think that sounds lovely."  

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Don't forget to let me know what you think :)

[sodalester]

slowly

summary: it came slowly, but dan finally was hit with realization that he loved phil

genre: pure fluff

word count: 1308

warnings: food mention

a/n: if you’re having a bad day, i hope this helps. also follow my other blog @furryhowell for dnp content

Dan knew the moment he had fallen head over heels in love with Phil. He had always had a small crush on Phil, but then again, who didn’t at one point? Phil was simply a loveable guy.

They were in Las Vegas, celebrating Dan’s 25th birthday. Midnight had long since passed, but they didn’t care. They were standing at the famous fountains, with Dan holding his piñata, watching as they all went off. He heard Phil laugh quietly next to him, catching his attention.

Phil was looking at Dan, a proud smile on his face. He didn’t say anything, but Dan knew exactly what he was thinking. Dan stared at Phil, feeling eighteen again, a time where he’d get lost in Phil’s presence and feel a thousand butterflies flutter in his heart. Looking at Phil now, those butterflies turned into mini fireworks, then bees that buzzed excitedly and overwhelmed him. The light was reflecting in Phil’s eyes and he couldn’t have looked more beautiful in that moment, despite having windblown hair and weary eyes.

He loved Phil.

The realisation wasn’t overwhelming. He didn’t panic or worry about what Phil would think. They’d been friends for long enough that he knew Phil wouldn’t judge him. Dan wasn’t a hormonal teenager anymore plagued with unreasonable anxieties. Instead, the realisation settled peacefully in his heart as Dan continued to stare at Phil.

He was distantly aware that he looked lovesick over Phil with the way he was staring at him, but Dan didn’t care. Everyone else in the world didn’t matter. He had Phil, his best friend for nearly eight years, standing right next to him.

Dan reached out and grabbed Phil’s hand. Phil looked a bit shocked at first, but then smiled and squeezed Dan’s hand.

They decided to head back to the hotel once they started yawning, drowsiness slowly increasing as the night went on. Dan went with Phil to his hotel room instead of his own. Phil didn’t question it, simply giving Dan a pair of his pajamas to change into. Dan smiled as he took them, accepting Phil’s invitation to stay the night.

Dan changed in the bathroom, slipping into the soft clothing that smelled of Phil. He looked in the mirror and admired the way it looked on him. It was ridiculous how something like sharing clothes, a thing they did regularly, still made his heart soar.

Dan came out of the bathroom to find Phil sitting in his hotel bed, wrapped with blankets and a movie playing on the tv. Dan joined Phil, snuggling up to him.

“I want my birthday cuddles,” Dan pouted, clinging onto Phil.

Phil giggled and pulled him closer, resting his head on top of Dan’s. “Your wish my command, birthday boy.”

Dan rolled his eyes, but still smiled. They watched the movie (which was, admittedly, terrible) until Dan’s eyes fell shut and his mind became foggy. Phil smiled softly and turned off the tv. He repositioned them so they wouldn’t wake up with sore backs.

Dan mumbled something as Phil shifted around, only to be hushed gently by Phil. Dan’s eyelids were too heavy to open, so instead he clung onto Phil tightly and buried his face in Phil’s chest. Dan was soon off to dreamland, Phil’s heartbeat guiding him along.

Being in love with Phil didn’t change much for Dan. Perhaps he had been in love for longer than he had known. It wouldn’t surprise him, considering the infamous “Heart-Eyes Howell” the fans had noticed. The love was wild and strong, a fire that ate up his heart yet also a soothing lullaby that made him feel more content than he had ever been.

Months passed, then a year. Dan was fine sitting on his feelings, waiting for things to calm down before telling. They were busy with filming and more tours and Dan didn’t want to rush it. Instead, he showed his love in subtle ways with constant gift-giving and lots of affection. He praised Phil elaborately, relishing in the way Phil’s cheeks would turn a rosy color as he covered his smile. He’d wrap Phil in his arms and hold him close as they watched movies together. And when Phil would fall asleep in his arms, Dan would smile and carry him to bed. He’d tuck him in with a kiss on the forehead, wishing him only good dreams.

On a slow winter day, sprinkles of snow dusting the pavement outside, Dan found himself once again staring at Phil. Phil was cooking them dinner, humming to a song Dan didn’t recognize. Dan was sat at the table, his head resting on his hand. Phil’s hair was sticking up and his glasses were crooked and he was absolutely beautiful.

This was the man he’d grown with. Phil had seem him at his worst phases (the word ‘placenta’ comes to mind) and through times when Dan wanted to give up.

Dan got up and walked over to him, wrapping his arms around Phil’s waist. He rested his head on Phil’s shoulder and watched him cook. Phil was a better cook than Dan was; he always knew what spices to add and when something was burning.

The smell made Dan’s stomach growl, loud enough for Phil to hear. Phil laughed and finished up cooking. He dumped the food onto two plates, giving Dan a little extra, knowing this was one of his favorite meals.

Dan loved Phil.

He loved the way Phil made him feel safe and content simply with his presence. He loved how Phil knew which show Dan wanted to watch as they settled on the couch with their dinner. He loved how Phil noticed Dan’s slight shivering and got Dan his favorite blanket, wrapping it around him and sitting next to him.

The two ate their dinner with the tv playing, curled up comfortably next to each other. Dan finished his food and set his plate aside, resting his head on Phil’s shoulder and cuddling into him.

His full stomach made him drowsy, his head feeling fuzzy with warmth. Phil put his empty plate down and shifted so that Dan was laying on his chest and the blanket covered them both.

“We should probably clean up the kitchen,” Dan half-heartedly reminded, listening to Phil’s heartbeat.

“Yeah,” Phil hummed in agreement, though he made no move to get up. Instead, he began to play with Dan’s curls, looking down at Dan like he was his whole world. It made Dan’s heart explode and his stomach perform leaps and turns like a ballerina.

Dan giggled, hiding his face in Phil’s shirt.

“What?” Phil said, a few giggles slipping out of his mouth.

“Nothing-it’s just,” Dan looked back up at Phil, “I love you so much.”

Phil smiled so brightly it outshone the sun, then kissed Dan’s forehead. “I love you too.” His cheeks had turned a soft pink.

Dan scooted up so their foreheads rested together. He cupped Phil’s cheeks with his hands, admiring him. “You’re so beautiful,” Dan whispered, “everything about you; from the way you smile to the way you cry. You’re a ray of sunshine and yet know how to be mature. You’ve done so much for me and I just love every single bit of you.”

Phil’s cheeks burned up and he giggled uncontrollably. He leaned down and connected their lips, sighing into a kiss.

It was soft and slow, neither of them desperate for something more. Dan melted under Phil, feeling so loved and loving so much back. When they parted, Dan buried his face in Phil’s neck, hiding his lovesick giggles. He lifted his face again and began peppering Phil’s face with kisses.

It didn’t matter that it took him eight years to finally piece together his feelings. He had always had Phil and he had no plans on letting go anytime soon.

[jamesv-t]

I follow too many football teams

Decided to sit down and compile a list of all the various football teams I'm following at the moment, across different leagues and countries, and note the reason I started supporting them as well as the extent to which I follow. I was surprised.

Arsenal WFC: started following the club on 4th July 2018, when they signed my favourite footballer, Tabea Kemme. Bought a season ticket and attended as many games as my work pattern would allow; from the first game I was amazed by Dutch striker Vivianne Miedema, the best forward I'd seen play since Robert Taylor's purple patch in 1999. Despite missing all 4 of Tabea's appearances for the club, I bought a shirt with her name and number on it which I've worn to every game possible, home and away. The last match I saw in person was a 4-0 win at Brighton back in January (easier to get to than home games, so of course I'd go) during which I realised that despite Tabbi's injury worries, I was in deep enough to care about the other players. This turned out to be prescient as two days later she retired from playing. Thanks to the FA Player, I can watch (almost) every match streamed live to my tablet.

Matches seen: 5 home, 5 away (Lewes, Brighton [Amex], Crawley, Spurs [new White Hart Lane], Brighton)

Shirts: 1 - 2018/2019 home shirt with Kemme 22 on the back.

Gillingham FC (mens): Where it all began. Attended my first game against Doncaster Rovers in April 1995, taken by my dad and granddad. The Gills won 4-2, my younger brother and I had room enough to chase each other around the terrace. Since then I've experienced nauseating lows, dizzying highs, and creamy middles. As of 21st May 2019 my support for the club has been on hold - they appointed Steve Evans - a man who had previously convicted of tax evasion and falsifying accounts, a man who had previously sought to incite Gillingham staff and players whenever his teams played against the Gills, and an all round nasty piece of work - as manager of the first team. I could not in good conscience support a side managed by him, in person or remotely, so I packed away my shirts/scarf/badges, muted the club's social media accounts, and my Saturday afternoons were a lot more fun as a result. He's still at the club, they're currently fourth in the League One table, but this summer they cut loose the associated women's side, so I don't know if I'll ever go back.

Matches attended: bloody loads. In the three figures, easily. Had a season ticket one year. Attended at least 1/3 of all games - home and away - in the promotion season linked above. Been going at least once a season for the past 20-odd years, mostly more than that. Away games at Crawley a few times (making it my joint second most visited stadium, apart from Priestfield and tied with Meadow Park), once at Spurs (old White Hart Lane), West Brom, Millwall (that was fun, got the tickets through work, ended up with the home fans, Gillingham got a last minute winner that we couldn't celebrate), Charlton twice, a reserve game at Leighton Orient, the above linked game against Wycombe when we went down, strangely not Brighton though despite living here for nearly 10 years.

Shirts: had plenty over the years. I've still got the shirt we got promoted in with Thomson 27 on the back, signed by a number of the squad, somewhere. Currently I only have two - the 2009 promotion shirt because it looks pretty good, and the 2011 home shirt because of fond Football Manager memories!

Borussia Dortmund (mens): Over a decade ago I started a relationship with a German woman. In the getting to know you stage, I asked her what her nearest Bundesliga* club was. (My small talk has since improved. Slightly.) She replied "Dortmund", and I started following the club. I'm not saying that I'm responsible for the team's subsequent uptick in form - they won the league two seasons running after I visited the ground, adding the Pokal (cup) in the second season as well - but I'm not not saying that either. The availability of streams plus the free-flowing, attacking football made them an easy follow, especially at a time when Gillingham went 35 games without an away win in all competitions. I look forward to the club starting up a women's side next season, especially as they're starting from the bottom rather than expecting to be parachuted into the Frauen Bundesliga.

Matches: just the one so far in person, an entertaining 2-3 loss to Wolfsburg in December 2012.

Shirts: had a 2004 home shirt that was horrible material, very plasticky. Also have a really comfortable and stylish 2012 away shirt that I couldn't wear for a few years due to it having Hummels' name on - thankfully he's returned from his Bayern defection now. A Munich fan who stayed with us a couple of years ago found the whole thing hilarious.

*I'm glad I specified the country, as while she grew up nearly 100km from the Westfalonstadion, she was only 20km from FC Twente - but it was complicated enough explaining to people in the early days why I was following a German team, and I think trying to tell them I was following a Dutch side due to my German partner might've been far too much!

BSG Chemie Leipzig (mens): Dortmund aren't the only German side I've hitched my wagon to, but they're the most high profile. Faced with an indefinite period of time with nothing to do during lockdown, and growing tired of my other FM careers, I set about giving myself a challenge. Due to the high praise dished out by the media to Red Bull Leipzig, a team funded by the energy drink conglomerate who bought their way up the league, I decided my challenge would be to - in the words of Sir Alex Ferguson - "knock them off their f**king perch. I wanted to make another team the biggest side in Leipzig. Scouting around the Wikipedia page for the city, and aided by this thoroughly informative Reddit post, I settled on Chemie due to their political leanings and colour scheme. Six real-life months and a dozen fictional seasons into the career, I'm one Bundesliga and one Pokal away from equalling the energy drink's trophy haul. I've taken an interest in the real life side as well, languishing away in the fifth tier of German football (an unholy hell of regional leagues and village sides).

Matches: not yet. One day I'll stand on the terrace of the Alfred-Kunze-Sportpark, Freiberger in hand, cheering on the side. But the raging pandemic that brought me to start the career is, ironically, preventing me from properly indulging.

Shirts: none, as I rarely wear football shirts these days. But this t-shirt is pretty cool.

Gillingham WFC: Simple thing here - when the side were cut adrift from the parent men's club as part of a cost-saving measure in the summer, I decided to go with the team who were not managed by an odious berk. I'm kooky like that.

Matches: one so far, a pre-season friendly away at Lewes last summer. I was the lone Gills fan. There were more dogs supporting the home side than humans cheering on the away team.

Shirts: none, as the club have switched to red after no longer being under the men's umbrella.

Valur (women's team): Some of these have deep, meaningful reasons behind my follow of them. Others, less so. In the early part of 2019 a friend of mine and his Czech girlfriend moved to Reykjavik to live for a bit. We visited them and were surprised to see floodlights from their balcony. Their flat overlooked a football ground, where Valur play, and so it was a simple thing to follow their side to feel closer to Paul and Barbora. It was weird seeing Valur's main striker, Elin Metta, posting Insta stories of playing with the same friendly cat that Paul does!

Matches: just the one streamed so far, due to a dearth of matches available online, but Valur won!

Shirts: christ don't give me ideas.

ACF Fiorentina Femminile: And if you thought that was a tenuous reason...last month we took a tour around Italy, stopping in Rome, Florence, Bologna and Venice. I wanted to get something football related to remember the trip by. Venice was out - I was going to the Venezia store anyway to pick up a few things for a mate who had guided them to glory on Football Manager, and didn't want to tread on his toes. Rome was unsuccessful - Lazio's kits have been cool in the past, but their right-wing fans aren't for me, and Roma had some lovely coloured merch but nothing that grabbed me. A surprise heavy shower sent us scurrying into the Fiorentina club shop, a place I'd earmarked to visit anyway, and a lovely flattering jacket jumped off the shelf at me. (It helped that it was reduced from €100 to €30!) Why the women's side over the men's? Women's football is just much more fun!

Matches: just a 3-1 loss to Sassuolo a few weeks ago. Who loses to a Phil Collins single?!

Shirts: no shirts, but a sexy jacket.

Ashwood City FC (mens, fictional): Ashwood City are Kent's only Premier League side. One of the founder members of the Football League, they've never been relegated from the Premier League. They're also fictional, the main subject of football podcast The Offensive. Now in its third season, it's been a weekly highlight, weaving current football events into an ongoing story arc. It's occasionally sweary, frequently hilarious, and clearly written by someone who's lived in Kent judging by the accurate jabs at Kentish people/Gillingham! It also used an entire episode as set-up for a reference to the 1992 Whitney Houston/Kevin Costner film The Bodyguard, which still frequently makes me chuckle at random moments.

Matches: tricky, as they don't exist. Like Steve Evans' moral compass.

Shirts: nope.

[informationpalace]

Former 'Duck Dynasty' Star Sadie Robertson Engaged

Duck Dynasty and Dancing with the Stars veteran Sadie Robertson and her mother Korie spoke out after shooting in a 'scary' drive that threatened their relatives. Korie, the wife of Phil Robertson's son Willie, the Duck Commander founder, told fans on Instagram that the family was undamaged. “Thank you so much for all of your prayers for our family,' she stated on Monday. “We are all safe and sound and feeling profoundly grateful for God's protection over us! Yes, the news reports are true, we had a drive-by shooting at our home on Friday, it was scary and dangerously close, but thanks to God no one was hurt.” The Ouachita Parish Sheriff's Office reported Sunday that Daniel King Jr, 38, of West Monroe, Louisiana, has been charged with one count of aggravated assault by drive-by firing. Since flooding two homes on Willie's isolated country estate in West Monroe, Louisiana, with bullets, King was arrested just after 8 pm on Sunday and booked into the Ouachita Correctional Center Bond agreed at $150,000. Korie stated that despite the dreadful incident, the family was continuing with normal life. “Today we got to participate in a drive-by birthday celebration! Crazy how life works! We honked our horns and made signs. We are alive and well, and not taking this day for granted!” “My grandmother used to read this scripture aloud every night before she went to bed, when we spent the night she would read it over us, 'So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.' Isaiah 41:10 God is good! Praising him today and every day!” she added.

Though Willie Robertson was not home at the shooting, there were many family members. At the farm, consisting of several properties, the Robertsons had hunkered down to ride out the coronavirus pandemic together. An approximate 8 to 10 bullets from the gunman struck two houses, one of which was occupied by Willie's son John Luke, his wife Mary Kate McEachern, and their infant son. John Luke's sister Sadie Robertson, 22, wrote on Instagram that the family were 'shook up'. “Hi, yes the news is true if you've seen it. We had someone shoot at our property. Just wanted to say we are all okay,' she wrote on Instagram on Sunday. “It shook us all up of course, but we are just so thankful everyone in our family is okay. Especially after one of the bullets flew through the window of my brother’s home… “The timing of where we were at the time was crazy protection because we had all just gone inside. We have been resting on Psalm 91 and each other's gratitude for all being okay. Thank you for your prayers.” Do not forget leaving your valuable comment on this piece of writing and sharing with your near and dear ones. To keep yourself up-to-date with Information Palace, put your email in the space given below and Subscribe. Furthermore, if you yearn to know about the misuse of Famotidine, view our construct, ‘Famotidine: Heartburn Drug Being Studied As COVID-19 Treatment’. Read the full article

[asfeedin]

How Phil Jackson is influencing today’s NBA coaches

THREE DAYS HAD passed since Doc Rivers watched the first two episodes of “The Last Dance,” and he couldn’t get the predicament former Chicago Bulls coach Phil Jackson faced during that 1997-98 season out of his head.

“Can you imagine?” Rivers asked on the twice-weekly Zoom call he has been having with his LA Clippers coaching staff since the NBA season was postponed on March 11. “Can you imagine being told before the year that you’re going to get fired?”

As the 10-part docuseries details, the Bulls had just won back-to-back championships, and their fifth championship in seven years, but general manager Jerry Krause had decided that no matter what the team did that season, it was time to rebuild — and Jackson wouldn’t be the head coach.

“Can you imagine having the right mindset to teach?” Rivers lamented. “To get guys to buy into their role and do the right thing? I can’t even imagine the patience and serenity he had to have to be able to do that.”

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Rivers has been thinking about Jackson a lot in recent days. He watched “The Last Dance.” Then he rewatched the battles his Boston Celtics had with Jackson’s Los Angeles Lakers in the 2008 and 2010 NBA Finals, when they re-aired on ESPN last week. And it made him realize he hasn’t connected with the Hall of Fame coach in a while.

“You’re making me want to call him,” Rivers said.

At first glance, Rivers and Jackson would seem to be longtime rivals. But Rivers said they used to talk on the phone and text a fair amount, coach to coach, about all sorts of things. A few years ago, Rivers even invited Jackson to speak at a clinic he was hosting at the Clippers’ practice facility, and Jackson accepted without hesitation.

“We had a good relationship,” Rivers said. “It’s funny, no one has a great one unless you’re in his circle, but we had a good one.”

For a coach of his stature, Jackson’s circle has always seemed relatively small. Only a few of his former players — Steve Kerr and Luke Walton — are current head coaches in the NBA. Most of his coaching contemporaries were too consumed with trying to beat the man who won 11 titles in his 20 years on the bench, to befriend him. Front-office executives were mostly annoyed he thought he would succeed in that type of role, without doing it the way they did.

So when Jackson retired from coaching in 2011, and stepped down after an unsuccessful run as president of the New York Knicks in 2017, there wasn’t a loud chorus singing his praises. If anything, there was a loud chorus airing out three decades of gripes and jealousies.

Those who found him aloof or arrogant while he was on top of the NBA world almost seemed to delight in seeing his triangle offense belittled by analytics wonks and pace-and-space devotees.

Those who ascribed his success to the good fortune of coaching all-time greats like Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen, Kobe Bryant and Shaquille O’Neal, loved to point out how poorly squabbles with Carmelo Anthony and Kristaps Porzingis turned out.

This is a familiar comeuppance for those who have succeeded at the highest level. Those you beat on your way to the top exact their revenge once you’ve been humbled. It was to be expected, and yet Jackson has done little to quiet or combat those who would besmirch his reputation.

He has made few public appearances and given even fewer interviews since he retired to his home in Montana. Even his previously engaging Twitter feed has gone quiet — last posting an article about meditation in June 2018.

And he has politely declined interview requests regarding “The Last Dance,” as he already said quite a bit in a four-hour interview for the project.

But that’s only the public side of things. Because as Rivers and a select group of current NBA coaches have found out, Jackson still has a lot to say about basketball — if the right person is asking the question.

“The man won 11 championships. Do I have that correct?” Rivers said. “Anybody that wins 11 championships should be celebrated every day. But I think because Phil was a loner in a lot of ways, a lot of people felt like he didn’t spend time with other coaches and all that stuff.

“If you asked him, he would, though.”

THERE IS NO secret code word. No special name for the growing group of coaches who have reached out and sought mentoring or advice from Jackson. There’s not even an obvious connection between them.

Rivers knew Jackson from coaching against him and through Tyronn Lue, who’d played for Jackson. Philadelphia 76ers coach Brett Brown was introduced via Luc Longley and Coby Karl, both of whom played for Jackson. Chicago Bulls coach Jim Boylen asked his owner, Jerry Reinsdorf, and Jackson’s former player John Paxson for an introduction. Toronto Raptors head coach Nick Nurse asked Alex McKechnie, his vice president of player health and performance, who’d worked with Jackson in Los Angeles. Lakers coach Frank Vogel got to know him through former Jackson assistant Brian Shaw. Dallas Mavericks head coach Rick Carlisle just knows everyone as president of the NBA Coaches Association.

The 10-part Michael Jordan documentary “The Last Dance” is here.

• Latest updates, full schedule • NBA experts on MJ’s greatness • Big moments from the premiere • How to get ready for the doc

What they all have in common is a desire to learn from the man they consider one of the greatest coaches of all time.

“I’ve always studied and admired his approach,” Vogel said. “I consider him the GOAT of NBA coaches.”

“Phil’s a great example of handling whatever comes his way,” Rivers said. “We all want the calm, and he dealt in the calm very well. But he also dealt with the storms extremely well. He got personalities and people to work together.”

Whatever rivalries Jackson might have had during his coaching career have been quickly cast aside.

“My Spurs world was very competitive with his,” Brown said. “So the opportunity to seek higher counsel was very much appreciated.”

And when coaches get on the phone with Jackson, or go to see him at his home in Montana, he is not always what they pictured.

“There’s this perception of him as the Zen Master,” Boylen said. “No. He’s a basketball junkie. He’s a diehard hooper. That’s what I loved about him.”

There is one thing each coach who has made the effort to get to know Jackson seems to say afterward, however.

The time they spent with him was their time. Whatever they got from that time remains between them.

“I’m not trying to spill the beans on everything we did,” Nurse said. “But it was awesome. It was really awesome.”

NURSE WASN’T SURE what to expect when he reached out to Jackson in the summer of 2018, a few weeks after he was named coach of the Raptors.

He’d studied Jackson for years. As a young coach at Grand View University in Des Moines, Iowa, in the early 1990s, Nurse would often drive to Chicago, buy a standing room-only ticket to watch Jackson’s Bulls, then drive the five hours back to Des Moines after the game. When he coached in England in the late 1990s, Nurse would order Bulls videotapes and study Jackson’s offense — Nurse’s teams ran the triangle then — his rotations, his adjustments, even his sideline demeanor.

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So when McKechnie offered to arrange a meeting with Jackson, Nurse couldn’t resist.

He’d already met with former Chicago Cubs manager Joe Maddon, Los Angeles Rams coach Sean McVay and Clemson football coach Dabo Swinney to get advice before embarking on his first NBA head-coaching job. But meeting Jackson would be different. The Zen Master invited him to his house in Montana — for three days.

“I didn’t know if I was going to go out there for a cup of coffee with him and that’s it,” Nurse said. “But I figured if that happened, I’d just take a few days [in Montana] to myself, to relax.”

That cup of coffee turned into a three-day coaching retreat. They drove around in Jackson’s truck, watched film together and broke down plays on a whiteboard.

Nurse couldn’t believe what was happening. He was nerding out with the coach he’d studied and admired for years.

“It was fun, because he was testing my knowledge of basketball a bit, too,” Nurse said. “He’d be telling a story and say, ‘That red-headed kid’ and stop and see if I could fill in the blanks.

“Fortunately I’m enough of a historian — or a geek — to know. So I’d say, ‘Yeah, that was Matt Bonner’ or whatever. And I could tell he liked that.”

Boylen said he even studied before he went to visit Jackson in Montana.

“I think he researches people before they come. Because he knew some stuff about me — like, ‘I know you coach guys hard. … You’re a defensive-minded guy,'” Boylen said. “So I was prepared, too. I had notes, copies of rosters, personnel, coaches he’d hired. I read his books.”

Like Nurse, Boylen had no idea how much time Jackson would spend with him. They had plans for lunch at a local cafe and that’s it.

“I think the place closed at 3, and we left at 5,” he said. “Then we had dinner at this place that closed at 9, and we stayed until 10.”

The next morning he stopped by the bakery and had them make a quiche he could bring over to Jackson’s house for lunch.

“It was one of the coolest things I’ve ever done,” Boylen said.

Throughout his two seasons in Chicago, Boylen says he has received frequent texts and emails from Jackson. At one point, Boylen asked him to watch the Bulls and offer critiques and suggestions. Jackson watched a few games, then sent a detailed note breaking down the team’s offense and suggesting some plays from the pinch-post that might unlock things.

“He confirmed some things that I believe in, which made me feel good, because he’s the best coach ever,” Boylen said. “But he also opened my mind up to some things, too.”

Jackson’s not sure what to call the relationships he has built with this group of NBA coaches either. Mentoring isn’t quite the right term. That feels too formal for what’s more like two coaches talking about the game they love.

But the coaches who’ve spent a couple days with Jackson, in Montana or Los Angeles, say it has had a huge effect on them.

“Phil is a longtime trusted friend,” Mavericks coach Rick Carlisle said. “I talk basketball at length with him two or three times a year. He’s a great resource and has been extremely generous with his time and knowledge to all coaches.”

THE MEETING STARTED at the Ritz-Carlton Marina Del Rey in California, far away from the prying eyes and microphones of the New York City media looking for any sign of whom Jackson was interviewing to be the next Knicks coach.

Vogel had looked up to Jackson for years and had even hired Shaw — one of Jackson’s top assistants with the Lakers — on his staff with the Indiana Pacers.

“Literally, for those two years that I had Brian,” Vogel said, “every decision that came up, I was like, ‘How’d you guys do it in L.A.? What would Phil do here? How did Phil travel with the team? Did he allow people’s guests to come on a plane? What was his morning shootaround routine?'”

But he’d spoken to Jackson only once, for about five minutes when he scouted for the Lakers in 2006, before he flew out to Los Angeles to interview for the Knicks job.

He was nervous but excited.

The interview began at the hotel, then continued to dinner at a small pizza restaurant in Venice that Vogel is still trying to find his way back to. The next morning they had breakfast and spent five to six more hours on a whiteboard.

“We talked about everything,” Vogel said. “From life to our families to coaching, X’s and O’s on the court and offensive systems, whether it’s a triangle or another system, defensive coverages.”

Although he didn’t get the job, it was two days he’ll never forget.

“I was raised in the Bobby Knight era of coaches,” Vogel said. “You know, MF-this. MF-that. And Phil never did that. I just felt like his approach was — and I’m by no means a Zen guy — but the calm mental adjustment is something that I try to always carry with any conflict or any adversity my team faces.

“I always admired that approach, letting guys play in. Not bailing teams with timeouts, letting them play through things, figure things out themselves.”

That calm demeanor under pressure is something that sticks out for Sacramento Kings coach Luke Walton, who played for the Lakers from 2003 to ’11.

“One of the main things that I try to take with me, from what Phil has taught,” Walton said, “is training yourself and your players to always try to be able to stay level-headed throughout and not get too emotionally high or too emotionally low.

“He would talk about The Peaceful Warrior, and say, that’s where you’re at your most dangerous, if you can stay in that area.”

LIKE MOST OF the players on the 1997-98 Bulls who were interviewed for “The Last Dance,” Kerr was sent links to preview the docuseries a few weeks ago.

Thus far, he has resisted the temptation to binge watch. He lived through all the drama, so watching it all again is a bit surreal.

Star forward Scottie Pippen was upset about his contract and missed the first few months of the 1997-98 season to have foot surgery as a sort of protest. Jordan publicly declared he wouldn’t play for any coach but Jackson, who management had already announced wouldn’t be back the following season. Mercurial forward Dennis Rodman wasn’t under contract for the following season either.

At one point, Pippen was so upset with Bulls management, he asked for a trade and vowed not to play for the Bulls again. Somehow Jackson coaxed all of that back together, into another championship run.

“That was my favorite part of the first episodes,” Kerr said. “How Phil connected to Scottie, and made sure Scottie was connected to us as a group by saying, ‘We’re going to sacrifice the early part of the season. But we have to bring him into the fold. He’s one of our guys. We’ve got to back him up on this.’

“No other coach would say what Phil said.”

Jackson often talked to Pippen about his anger during that season. He wanted him to feel safe expressing that to him and hoped the trust he earned would eventually bring Pippen back around to fighting alongside his teammates, rather than against management.

With Rodman, Jackson had to take a different tack.

He brought in Jack Haley to be his de facto handler. He brought in a therapist to talk to him weekly, which often happened at the Taco John’s or some fast food place in the mall. He made a deal with Rodman that he didn’t have to be at the arena an hour and a half before games like the other players — he could show up an hour beforehand — but if he was late he’d be fined. And then he told the rest of the team about the deal he’d made, to make sure they saw it as pragmatism, not favoritism.

“It didn’t bother us,” Kerr said. “It wasn’t like some rookie who thought he was better than everybody else. This was Dennis Rodman. He was a great player but a complex person. And so we understood that Phil had a big job on his hands.”

Kerr also remembers a meeting in which Jackson showed video of Rodman’s acceptance speech when he was named NBA Defensive Player of the Year in 1990 as a member of the Detroit Pistons.

“Dennis was crying during the press conference, talking about how much it meant to him,” Kerr said.

“And the reason Phil showed us that with Dennis sitting there, at least my read, was he wanted us to know even though Dennis was late and then getting kicked out and suspended and whatever. He wanted us to know how much Dennis cared.

“And he wanted Dennis to know that we all cared about him, too.”

KERR HASN’T TALKED to Jackson as much this season as he has in the past. Like Rivers, watching “The Last Dance” has made Kerr want to reach out again.

“I sent him an email this morning,” Kerr said, when reached Saturday afternoon. “I should go check to see if he’s written back yet.”

He doesn’t worry about his old coach’s feelings or whether his reputation has been bruised in recent years.

“I think he’s fine,” Kerr said. “Phil was always so comfortable in his own skin.”

They talked often when Kerr was making the transition from broadcaster to coach in 2014. Over the years, Kerr had kept a book full of his beliefs about basketball and coaching. If he ever led a team, this was the book he wanted to bring to life.

Jackson told him that’s what he had done as a young coach, too: figure out what you believe in, then find a way to translate that to a team.

“We talked a lot about the triangle,” Kerr said. “He had searched for an offense for many years that would tie together with his philosophy.

“I had never heard anybody say something like that before. The triangle was not just an offense to run, it was part of a whole philosophy of teamwork and connectivity. And I totally felt it when I was playing there. I never felt more important as a player than I did in Chicago.”

Kerr wanted to bring that to his team, when he became a head coach. To find a philosophy, a mantra, a system, that made every player on the team feel as important as Jackson had made him feel as a reserve for the Bulls.

“For me,” Kerr said. “That was ‘Strength in Numbers.'”

The night before his first training camp with the Golden State Warriors, he showed his new team a video.

“I had Marv Albert narrate,” Kerr said, laughing at the memory. “I had a lot of movie references, movie clips and humor. All these things that Phil did.”

He wasn’t going to run the triangle, but, “I wanted that same philosophy of everybody being valued, everybody touching the ball. Everybody being empowered. That was so powerful to me as a player. And all that came from Phil.”

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Tags: Chicago Bulls, Coaches, daily, influencing, Jackson, Michael Jordan, NBA, Phil, todays

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