#but yeah man.. music. when i can’t draw or write

[scarletwinterxx]

benefit of friends - kim mingyu imagine

god really made this man to be the most perfect one😭 how to get your own kim mingyu (asking for a friend) lol anyways hope you like this one!

for my other svt fics, check them here

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All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pic not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’ve always been good at compartmentalizing.

Work is work. Fun is fun. Feelings? Well, they’re like those receipts stuffed into your wallet... you’ll deal with them later.

Your arrangement with Mingyu, your ridiculously handsome coworker-turned-“friend-with-benefits,” was supposed to fall neatly into the “fun” category.

No strings, no expectations, no messy emotions.

But tonight, at the company dinner, you’re beginning to realize that neatly labeled boxes have a way of getting jumbled when Mingyu’s around.

The restaurant is buzzing with chatter, glasses clinking, and the hum of soft music in the background. His deep, warm laugh carries over the noise, drawing glances from everyone at your table. He’s always been effortlessly charming, with his broad shoulders, that perfect smile, and a sense of humor that’s impossible to resist.

And right now, someone else seems to have noticed.

A junior marketing associate, her name slips your mind, but she’s all bright eyes and flirty giggles. She's leaning just a little too close to him. Her hand grazes his arm as she laughs at something he said, and you swear you see her fingers linger there for a moment longer than necessary.

Your chest tightens, and you quickly take a sip of your wine, hoping the bitterness will drown the unfamiliar feeling clawing its way up your throat.

Jealousy.

It’s ridiculous, really. You and Mingyu aren’t together.

You’ve both made it clear: this is casual. Easy. No messy emotions, remember?

So why does it bother you so much when he leans in to whisper something to her, his grin widening as she laughs again?

“Are you okay?” a colleague asks, pulling you out of your spiral.

“Yeah, fine,” you reply, forcing a smile.

But your eyes can’t help darting back to Mingyu.

Later, as the group begins to thin out, people leaving one by one, you make your way to the bar for another drink.

You need something. Anything to steady your nerves. You’re swirling your glass idly when you feel someone slide onto the stool beside you.

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight,” Mingyu says, his voice low and teasing.

You don’t turn to look at him immediately. “I’m just tired,” you lie.

“Hmm,” he hums, leaning a little closer. You can feel the warmth radiating off him, and it makes your heart race.

“Tired? Or… distracted?”

That gets your attention. You glance at him, and he’s watching you with that playful glint in his eye, like he already knows exactly what’s on your mind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, feigning indifference.

“Oh, don’t you?” He grins, and it’s infuriatingly attractive. “You’ve been glaring daggers at poor Mina all night.”

So that’s her name. Mina.

“I wasn’t glaring,” you snap, a little too defensively.

He laughs softly, leaning even closer until his shoulder brushes yours. “You were. And, for the record, it was kind of cute.”

“I wasn’t jealous, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Really?” His voice drops, and suddenly the air between you feels charged. “Because it looked a lot like jealousy to me.”

You turn to face him fully, ready to argue, but the words catch in your throat when you see the way he’s looking at you—intense, his eyes flicking briefly to your lips before meeting yours again.

“Mingyu,” you start, but your voice comes out softer than you intended.

“Relax,” he says, smirking. “I wasn’t interested in her, anyway.”

Your heart stumbles over itself, and you hate how much that admission makes your pulse race. “You’re insufferable,” you mutter, turning back to your drink.

“Maybe,” he says, his voice warm and teasing, “but you like me anyway.”

The car ride home is quieter than usual. Mingyu insisted on sharing a ride, though you suspect it’s less about convenience and more about prolonging the teasing

As the car pulls up to your apartment, you hesitate for a moment. You should say goodnight and leave it at that.

But when Mingyu’s hand brushes yours as he moves to open the door, your resolve wavers.

“Want to come up?” you ask, your voice casual, though your heart is anything but.

He smiles knowingly. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Your apartment feels smaller with Mingyu in it. The tension that’s been simmering all night seems to boil over as he follows you inside, his eyes lingering on you in a way that makes your stomach flip.

“You know,” he says, his tone teasing but softer now, “if you’re going to get jealous every time someone flirts with me, we might have to renegotiate this whole ‘just friends’ thing.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you say again, though even you don’t believe it this time.

“Sure,” he says, stepping closer. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can come up with a retort, his hand cups your cheek, and suddenly you forget how to speak.

“Mingyu,” you whisper, but he cuts you off with a kiss—soft at first, almost tentative, before it deepens. His other hand finds your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

You don’t remember moving, but somehow you end up against the kitchen counter, his lips trailing down your neck as your hands tangle in his hair.

“You’re impossible,” you murmur, though it comes out more like a sigh.

“And yet,” he says, his breath warm against your skin, “you keep me around.”

His lips find yours again, and this time there’s no teasing, no games, just the kind of intensity that leaves you breathless and wondering how you ever thought you could keep this casual.

Later, as you lie tangled together on your couch, his arm draped lazily over your waist, you realize your carefully labeled boxes have completely unraveled.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re okay with that.

It starts at a casual get-together with some of your friends. Mingyu wasn’t supposed to come. You invited him half-jokingly, figuring he’d have better things to do on a Friday night. But to your surprise, he’d shown up, effortlessly sliding into the group as if he’d always been part of it.

And now, you wish he hadn’t.

Not because you’re upset he’s here.

Far from it.

Mingyu has a way of making everything more fun. It’s just that you’re too aware of him, standing across the room, his eyes flicking to you every few seconds like he’s keeping tabs on you.

You’re talking to a guy.

what was his name again? Jae? Jin? Mingyu thought to hinself.

The guy has clearly been angling for your attention all night but you don’t notice. You’re oblivious to the way he leans a little too close when he speaks or the way his hand brushes yours unnecessarily as you reach for your drink.

Mingyu notices, though.

From his spot by the makeshift bar, he’s gripping his glass a little too tightly, his jaw clenched as he watches the scene unfold. He tells himself it’s fine—you’re not his, and he has no right to feel this way. But when Jae-or-whatever laughs a little too loud at something you’ve said, leaning in like he’s about to touch you, something snaps.

Before he knows it, he’s crossing the room.

“Hey,” Mingyu says, his voice smooth but laced with an edge as he steps between you and Jason, casually sliding his arm around your waist. “Didn’t realize you’d made a new friend.”

“Mingyu? What are you doing?” You blink up at him, surprised

“Just thought I’d check in,” he says, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. His gaze shifts to Jason, who suddenly looks less sure of himself. “Who’s this?”

Jason clears his throat. “Uh, I’m Joon. We were just talking.”

“Talking, huh?” Mingyu says, his smile sharp. “That’s nice. But I think she’s good here.”

“Mingyu—” you start, but he’s already steering you away, his hand firm on your lower back.

You glance back at Joon, who’s standing there awkwardly, but Mingyu doesn’t let you linger. He leads you out onto the balcony, where the cool night air hits your skin.

“What the hell was that?” you ask, spinning to face him.

“What was that?” he counters, his voice low and tense. “That guy was all over you.”

“He was not!” you protest. “We were just talking.”

“You’re so oblivious sometimes, you know that? He wasn’t just talking, he was hitting on you.”

You cross your arms, irritation bubbling up. “And what if he was? It’s not like you get to decide who I talk to.”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then he steps closer, the tension between you crackling like electricity.

“Maybe I don’t,” he says quietly, his voice dangerously calm. “But I didn’t like it.”

Your breath catches. His proximity, the intensity in his gaze—it’s overwhelming

“Why do you even care?” you ask, though your voice is softer now, less sure. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and suddenly the world feels smaller, like it’s just the two of you on that balcony.

“You really don’t know, do you?”

Your heart pounds as he leans in, his forehead resting against yours

“I care,” he murmurs, his voice rough with something that feels too big to name, “because you’re mine.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and undeniable.

“Mingyu—”

He cuts you off with a kiss, his lips crashing against yours with a desperation that leaves you breathless. It’s not soft or tentative like before—it’s possessive, claiming, as if he’s trying to prove something to both of you.

You don’t resist. Instead, you pull him closer, your fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt as his hands slide to your waist, gripping you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

When you finally break apart, both of you breathing hard, he rests his forehead against yours again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know we said no feelings. No strings. But I can’t help it. I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you.”

Your chest tightens, and for once, you don’t push him away. Instead, you reach up to trace the line of his jaw, your touch soft.

“You’re an idiot,” you say, but there’s no heat in your words. “But I guess you're my idiot.”

His smile is equal parts relief and triumph. “Damn right I am”

Back inside, the party continues without you, but neither of you cares. You end up in your apartment again, the tension between you finally boiling over.

This time, there’s no hesitation, no teasing. Just the two of you giving in to what’s been building for weeks. His hands are everywhere, mapping every inch of your skin like he’s memorizing you, and when you pull him down onto the couch, he follows without question.

“Say it again,” he murmurs against your neck, his voice rough and low as his lips trail downward.

“Say what?” you manage, your breath hitching as his hands slide under your shirt.

“That you’re mine,” he says, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. There’s something vulnerable in his gaze, hidden beneath all the confidence.

You cup his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “I’m yours,” you whisper, and the way his expression softens makes your heart ache.

“Good,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Because I’m yours too.”

And this time, when he kisses you, it feels like a promise.

[kquil]

REMUS LUPIN | 16:63 ⏤BABY FEVER

SUM. : you and remus meet an adorable baby while grocery shopping

TAGS. : husband remus ; wife reader ; modern au ; muggle au ; married au ; baby fever ; mentions of birth control ; honeymoon phase ; domestic fluff

LENGTH : 0.6k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

You and Remus were doing your weekly shop, list in hand as he pushed the shopping cart beside you. It’s a peaceful routine the two of you got into after making it official and moving in together. Every Friday, after the two of you got off work, he’d pick you up and you’d both go grocery shopping for the upcoming week.  

“Should we buy welsh cakes or make them ourselves?” you mutter aloud as Remus chuckles beside you. 

“You mean ‘or you make them’, you know I’m useless around ovens,” he presses an affectionate kiss against your temple and smiles at the giggle it draws from your pretty lips — music to his ears. People said it was impossible to stay in the honeymoon phase of your relationship for so long but you and Remus debunked all of that. From a distance, the two of you still looked like newlyweds. 

“I suppose I have some time to make a few batches after we get home today,” you smile at your husband, “we can have some before tea,” 

“Sounds like a plan, dove,” Remus agrees and, as you add a small bag of self-raising flour to your cart, you hear a cry to your right and turn to see a baby perched in the cart seat, reaching its small pudgy hands down for a small dog plush they must have dropped. To the left of the baby, you saw, who you assumed was the child’s mother softly ask what the matter was, her brows furrowed from worry. It appears as though she didn’t see that her child had dropped their toy. 

Before you could take action, Remus was already handing the small plush back to the child, “here you go,” he whispers softly, “no more tears now,”

The mother flashed a smile at your husband, “Thank you so much,” she then turned to her child, “let’s say thank you to the kind man, darling,” she took the child’s small wrist and made them wave at you and Remus, who moved to stand beside you with an adoring smile on his face. Seeming to understand what their mother was asking of them, the baby gives a gummy grin with the few teeth they had as their eyes disappear behind their pudgy, flushed cheeks. At this, the mother gave one final grateful smile before moving on with her shopping, her baby hugging their beloved plush to their chest. 

“How cute,” Remus mutters, smiling and waving a final goodbye at the baby as he gradually begins to realise how quiet you’ve been. 

“Remus…” he looks at you with soft eyes as yours become rounded when looking up at him, they sparkled with want as you push your bottom lip out into a pout. It’s a look he’s familiar with; it’s the one you always pulled when you wanted something so he’s quick to anticipate any request you wanted to make.

“Yes, dove?”

“I want a baby,” 

“A–...” speechless, Remus stares at you with his jaw slackened and his eyes wide. A heat crawls up his neck and floods his cheeks as he stiffens in the hopes that the tightening of his pants weren’t just his imagination, “a…a baby?...”

“Yeah…” your whining voice makes a heat pool in his lower abdomen and, just when he thought you couldn’t make things worse, your arms wrap around his torso to squeeze him close. He looks down with red cheeks as you place your chin on his chest and continue pouting, “I want a baby now!”

“D-Dove— we can’t–”

“Why not?” 

“..y-you’re on birth control–!”

“I’ll get off it,” you quickly reply, grinning up at him like the little minx you are. He knows that you can see the profound effect your statement has on him, “please, honey~” like all of your requests before, Remus can’t say no to you. 

He’ll give you a baby and he’s not going to wait for you to get off birth control. 

NAVI.

A/N : i'm dying from a horrible flu and fever but i had to write this before i lost the inspiration to, again, this was inspired by tiktok XD i hope you darlings enjoy! i'll try to get better as soon as possible so i can get back to writing again ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

TAGLIST : @rosalyn-s @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @neeezza101 @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @chullu-bhar-paani

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (i)

grumpy!matt sturniolo x sunshine!fem oc / reader

summary : matt is a grumpy tattoo artist and y/n books him for her first tattoo.

warnings : needles and pain (not very detailed tho)

mickey speaks : i don't have any tattoos so i actually know nothing ab the procedure lmaooo just guessing but i’ll be writing multiple parts for this. also i am very much self indulging bc i headcannon y/n as poc! but obvi anyone can read there's not much exclusivity ab how i write her, i js wanted to note that for any poc readers <3.

THIS IS PART 1 BTW!!!!

“SHITTT,” you draw out the last syllable at the rumble and screech of your car engine as you continue your attempt to start it.

eventually you throw your head backwards in defeat, annoyed by the unbudging car. this is the actual worst timing. you're supposed to be at the tattoo shop (that is a 12 minute drive from your apartment complex) for an appointment in less than twenty minutes.

you truly want to scream and border on throwing a tantrum but decide it would probably be better to find a solution than complain about the agony further.

you quickly find your roommate's contact, raising your phone to your ear and pinching your eyes shut as the vibrating ring hums through your skull.

"y/n? what's up?" andrea answers confused as you had only just walked out of the door five minutes ago.

"hi drea... so i know you have your own plans right now but is there any way you can give me a ride... please?"

you hear shuffling on the line, "mmm, where to?"

౨ৎ

“thank you again for driving me,” you smile at andrea and squeeze her hand before reaching for the door.

“yes, of course. you can call me when you’re done and i’ll head over here- m’sorry i can’t stay with you.” she replies and exaggerates a frown.

"i'll be fine, i think- i hope..."

"you will be fine. just don't stress or it'll hurt more."

౨ৎ

your arms are crossed tightly over your chest as you make your way into the shop (in its form of an oversized warehouse, fixed up to look stylish and comfortable- something you’d never really seen before). the rickety jingle of a small bell kindly indicates your presence to the rest of the shop.

a few people sitting in a waiting area look up before continuing their conversations (though some continued to stare as you walk by). you see a surprising amount of people crowding in a brightly decorated lounge area, housing many arcade games and a kitchenette.

you reach the receptionist desk and are greeted by a young man dressed casually, humming along to the music playing in the background of the space.

“um, hi. i’m here for my 1:30 appointment.” you state with a smile, you’re suddenly aware of how nervous you truly are.

the brunette looks over to a desktop screen with a soft scrunch of his face, “for y/n, right? huh, that’s crazy…” he rubs his chin, “1:30 was like nine minutes ago,” he looks up at you, almost like he was questioning you; who do you think you are? and why do you think you’re important enough to be late?

as soon as your face begins to morph into fear and embarrassment his own face splits into a large smile as he laughs softly. “i’m sorry- i’m such an ass but i had to- your file said you’re new clientele so i just had to fuck around.”

“you’re sick! i was fully prepared for a fucking lecture on timeliness or something,” you let out a soft laugh.

the boy comes from around the desk holding a paper and clipboard. “yeah, sorry, i’m chris,” he reaches a hand out to which you willingly return and restate your name to him, “‘m not usually up front so you probably talked to asha over the phone when booking.”

you nod and smile at the familiar name, “yeah, she was so helpful over the phone.”

“she’s awesome, i miss her,” he touches each of his shoulders then forehead before kissing his hand and pointing to the sky.

"oh my god? i'm sorry for your loss."

his eyes squint and lips pucker in confusion, "oh, she's not fired she's just on vacation right now."

"so why'd you...?"

chris cuts you off by handing you the clipboard and grabbing a pen from a cluttered mason jar on the desk as he explains, “okay, we’re just gonna have you fill out this quick consultation form; just so you and your artist will be on the same page about things.” you nod in understanding. “keep it brief, matt’s not big on reading large bodies of text,” chris laughs.

“got it,” you smile before turning to find a chair and begin writing. you truly were relieved that chris wasn’t hard on you about being late, for a second you thought you would be lectured and have to carry the guilt of dissapointing someone into a room where you'd be paying to lie in excruciating physical pain. (damn, double homecide)

the sheet had general information to fill before the questions specifically about the tattoo you’d be getting today came.

you go back up to chris once you’re finished.

“cool, follow me we’ll set you up with matt.” he leads the way and your nerves are suddenly back as it's feeling more and more real with each step. you pacify your thoughts by looking around at the many images and messages written in sharpie along the walls of the hallway. there's also plenty of hanging shelves around with vintage trinkets and succulents that compliment the space around.

chris reaches a curtain and dips his head past as if he were checking for something before giving you a chance to see. you notice the small "Matt" embroidered on the black curtain. chris then opens it wide enough for the both of you to walk into the surprisingly large space.

(who you can only assume to be) matt sits comfortably in a wheeled desk chair, legs spread. his elbow rests on the arm of the chair and he holds his head up with two of his fingers, as his middle finger grazes his irritated mouth with a stern look on his face while he scrolls on his phone.

he doesn’t move his position when he looks up at the two of you.

“alright! matt this is y/n,” chris motions between you two. matt hums, placing his phone on the desk and placing his hand out expectantly for the clipboard. chris goes to hand it to him and whispers, “fix your face, jackass,” then turning around to leave you some reassuring words, “good luck y/n, the tat’s gonna look amazing.”

but chris doesn’t see matt exaggerating a large, sarcastic smile from behind him in defense of chris’ words (he immediately drops it though). something that would make you at least giggle if you weren’t so nervous.

“thanks,” your voice is a little hoarse as you haven’t used it in some time. matt watches the boy leave before looking over to you. he rolls the chair closer, reading over your short (as requested) responses.

“you can sit down.” he forms it almost as a question like are you going to sit down or do i have to direct you to do everything?

you sit on the black cushioned bench, lined with a disposable white cloth and begin to fidget with your fingernails as matt goes over your paperwork quietly.

“''kay, so you’re getting a small hello kitty on your lower hip?” he summarizes while checking and signing a few lines on a paper.

“yeah, um, i told asha over the phone that way you could have it sketched already- she told me that’s best and saves time for the both of us.”

his response is a slowed nod and a breathy, “yep,” as he rolls over to his desk and places the clipboard on the surface before opening a drawer and digging through it.

you gaze around the room and wonder if he decorated the space himself or if he wasn’t the type to be bothered enough to add personal things to his work area. almost all the posters are of music artists or tattoos, the most personal things you see are a small picture frame on his desk and a pokémon plushie sat on a chair in the corner of the room. all of which just pose more questions in your working brain.

you notice him switching to a different swivel chair that is lower to the ground and bringing himself (as well as a moving table with already prepared supplies) closer to you.

you’re nervous again. even after your roommate and older brother have both given you advice on first tattoos and the pain expected you’re still finding yourself scared of what to expect. your ear piercings would have nothing on this.

“first tattoo?” matt clarifies, as if he could read your mind. you nod and go to speak but stop when he gestures for you to lay back on the cushion.

you’re sure that he only was searching for a quick confirmation from you and is not too interested in your life or what brings you here but you’ve found that talking relieves your own stress and you absolutely cannot just lay there and only speak when spoken to.

“yeah, i guess m’nervous. i just hope i don’t, like, die from pain or hate the outcome or curse myself in a couple years for the placement- but it's not that i'm doubting that it'd be cute. younger me would be screaming at the fact that i'm even here..." you pause just for a second. "but then again i'm not sure how much forty year old me will appreciate it. so i guess i just don’t know. you know?”

you lean yourself up to get a look at matt, only to realize he has airpods in and simply has not been listening or interested in you (just as you expected). he’s moving his head the smallest amount to the beat as he works on his sketch.

he notices your movement though and takes a headphone out of his ear, “are you okay?” is all he asks.

a pretty broad question. and an anxiety inducing question to ask a girl who's been questioning her decisions as much as you have. you hope you’re okay. will you still be okay when this (mostly) permanent decision is etched into your skin forever? is he okay? will he give you any sense of encouragement or comfort during this process? are tattoo artists typically like this or are you just considered especially needy clientele?

“yeah, i just was- like, curious, i guess.” you mumble a little and internally hate that you feel so insecure in this situation. so out of control.

“was just adjusting my sketch to be a smaller. nothing crazy happening over here.” he shrugs. “you can go ahead and pull your shirt up, though. i’m just gonna clean the area and prep before inking.” he explains to you very straight and to the point.

you fall back into place and obey, inching your shirt up further to expose your lower stomach. you drape your arms over your face to gain composure as you hear matt rip some packaging.

the coolness of the cleaning pad sends your stomach butterflies and you try to not think too hard about the fact that matt’s hands will be on your lower stomach and hip for a good length of time.

eventually matt speaks to you again, “i’m starting so if you’re feeling the need to get the fuck out you gotta do it now or for forever hold your peace.”

you smile a little at his dry joke but when you turn your head to see him fully serious you blink, “no, i’ll be fine. thanks though.”

he just nods his head and goes to put his airpods back in before you’re interrupting again, “wait. whatcha listening to?”

he’s suprised by the question. his clients rarely get too involved in what he’s doing. mostly because he does a great fucking job no matter how few words he may utter over an entire session. there's a mutual understanding there that he's never had to speak up about to anyone. other artists use a strong bond or charisma to secure returning customers but matt finds there’s nothing better to display than his pure talent and passion for his craft. that’s how he keeps clients. they ask and he will always deliver; and that’s how he particularly likes it. no questions and minimal conversation.

the sound of the tattoo gun begins and just for your sake he decides to answer the question without malice, “just some frank ocean instrumental tracks." he places his hands back onto your skin, "don’t start moving.”

you pinch your eyes shut and squeeze your forearms as soon as the initial pain takes over. it’s a feeling you can only describe as a needle poking into you a trillion times at once. which is literally what's happening to you.

you’re not oblivious to matt’s disengagement with your attempts at conversation but you need him to continue to speak to you or else you’ll think too much about the needle actively puncturing you. “oh yeah? i’ve never listened to him before…”

“surprising. he’s pretty big.” matt mumbles slightly, focusing on his work far more than his slight interest in your knowledge of frank ocean.

“mhm. i’ve been meaning to give him a listen. could you share?”

matt’s eyes just move to look up at your face as he tries not to beg you to just be quiet and let him do this so that you both can leave within an hour. “i’m good on that.” he returns to tattooing.

“huh? you can’t share music?”

“i would prefer not to but-” he doesn’t even know why he’s continuing to fuel this anymore.

“what if i add a pretty,” you pause to wince a little as the needle moves lower, “pretty please?”

“i’m almost done,” he mumbles the lie.

“matt?”

he pauses for only a second to glance over to you. he’s met with a face scrunched in pain with an attempted smile that he thinks makes you look more like a doped up hippie than the cute effect you were going for. you plead after his glance, “pretty please?”

he rolls his eyes and sets his tattoo gun down, reluctantly swiveling over to his desk. before you even realize what exactly he’s doing there’s a airy beat of drums and piano playing from a small speaker in the room.

once he's back over to you he can tell you’re smiling even though your face is mostly covered by your arms. “thank you, i needed a distraction or something.”

he mumbles an “mhm” and returns to his work.

౨ৎ

there was generally no talking after that. only a few moments you observed (due to your need to cling on to literally anything going on besides the pinching at your lower side) that were any indication of matt's quiet presence. you noticed when matt would softly hum the lyrics to the instrumentals over the speaker and when you began to tap your fingers out of boredom and nerves, to which he simply placed his hand over them to force them flat while muttering a small “stop.”

when matt was completely finished he asked you if he could take a picture to add to his instagram and you agreed eagerly. he then added a strip of tattoo film over a layer of protective ointment. after he helped you to fully stand he explained how to care for it and how important cleaning is because “that shit will get gunky as fuck.” and you told him that you promise to do everything he said. he also gave you a detailed list on a card for you to follow just in case you forget.

you glance down at your tattoo one last time before you begin to leave the room you’d just spent a lengthy hour of your life in. you assume matt doesn’t want much else from you until he calls your name from his desk. you turn and see him still looking at his phone before glancing up, “uh, what’s your insta handle, so i can tag you in this?”

you don’t know why you’re surprised but you are.

you agree to exchange handles with him before deciding to compliment him once more, “my tattoo is perfect, by the way. i love it so much, thank you.” you want to tell him that you hope you didn’t annoy him too much but you don’t know if that will annoy him more. so you take his nod and hint of a smile as his way of showing appreciation, keeping your own smile bright to mask the crushing feeling of someone seeming so indifferent towards you.

after walking past the curtain and through the trinket-filled hallway you’re back to the main area of the warehouse. you see a different collection of people gathered playing pool and some more huddled on a couch looking at a girl’s phone in awe. chris is busy talking with what seems to be a close friend when you walk up to the reception desk.

when his eyes find your bright expression he’s bouncing back with energy, “hey! i’m assuming it went well?" he asks.

"very well. glad it's over though, i can't lie." you laugh while taking your debit card from your purse.

"yeah, definitely not the best feeling. especially when matt's ugly face is that close to you." chris jokes and takes your card to cash you out.

you laugh along with him but assure him that matt's looks weren't an issue. he raises his eyebrows and has a growing smirk that travels to his eyes when he gives you your card back. you try not the blush at the implication, "i didn't mean it like that."

"right," he nods and chuckles softly, "well hopefully you'll be back for another eventually?" he hands you a receipt.

"i mean how could i not with such a sweet receptionist asking me? i'm sure you get everyone to come back," you joke.

chris shrugs with a cocky grin, "somethin' like that."

౨ৎ

"oh my god it's fucking adorable, what?!" andrea exclaims with a spoonful of frozen yogurt still in her mouth.

she initally begged to see it as soon as she picked you up but you dramatically told her you had just experienced the worst pain of your life and you'd need a sweet treat if you were planning to not sleep the rest of the day away. so she just rolled her eyes and demanded you show her once you both arrive at your favorite frozen yogurt shop (conveniently down the street from your apartment complex).

"i knowww," you respond and quickly pull the lower part of your shirt down with a smile, taking a seat across from drea.

"how'd it go, though? i'm curious. i've only been to warehouse 79 like once, and it was for an event."

"it was good, they were all generally kind and my guy did exactly what i wanted. i'm pretty happy."

"'my guy,' oh okayy?" she takes a bite and smirks.

"not what i meant! i should have just said matt. like, the guy who did my tattoo-"

"mhmm."

"stop.” you smirk, “i mean he was not ugly by any means but he seemed to not care to get to know me at all. which is fine, he's not paid to care about me. but i doubt i'll ever see him again." you shrug taking another bite of frozen yogurt.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

[multifariousqueer]

Miles G and Miles Morales Headcannons: Twin Edition

For reference: miles g will be called Milo

A/n: AHHHH ITS GOOD TO BE BACK BABES!!! Ik new fics And pt.2’s are Coming soon, works been a killer and I’ve been going through stuff but it’s good to be back writing for my boys. Requests are closed but opening up soon 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Warnings: none

Miles Morales:

Is like 4 inches taller but makes it feel like 4 feet

Nicer and a bit more approachable

Loves being in pictures and making funny faces

Dog person

Can’t cook for shit but tries so hard for his mom

They have their own little dates and things

His side of the room is a mess

I feel like he played an instrument in the past when he was a kid

Maybe Piano or guitar

He’s a loner by default but he would have more friends if he wasn’t so busy being Spider-Man

He def takes pictures of sunsets from the tips of buildings

Used to color code outfits with Milo but stopped when they were 12

Same with baths but they were 7 for that

His side of the room is disgusting. Like shit is crawling

There’s a single chair with all of his stuff on it

He brings Ganke over sometimes but Ganke took a stronger liking to Milo bc he’s chill

“Yeah man idk if i can come. Is Milo gonna be there?”

Milo doesn’t give a shit but secretly loves Gankes company

They chill and play video games

Miles is also better at video games than Milo

Whenever he gets stuck on a level, he hands the controller to him

He’s more affectionate than Milo

Will draw you and touch you more

Very smart but he has his moments

Definitely more book smart then Street smart

Doesn’t know basic things and code within the streets so sometimes Milo has to help him

Overall, he’s a sunflower child and we love him 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Milo Morales

Was def born First but is shorter than Miles and Miles makes fun of him for it

Plays basketball with Uncle Aaron sometimes and he’s pretty good at it

Played the violin or cello at some point in his life

“Don’t forget im older than you” “im sorry is someone speaking?”

Is more violent than Miles but it’s because he’s the Prowler

Takes more time for him to warm up to you but once he does, he’s stuck on you for life

Will spoil you with Gifts

Speaking of… him and Miles get into it regularly over it, when they fight physically they sometimes slip and use their real names

He’s a mamas boy FR. This man loves his mama

Will make fun of Miles for being a no sabes kid

Sometimes, him and Rio will speak in Spanish in front of Miles and he’ll just stare at them hoping to recognize a word

“Hey you said cabròn, i heard that!”

He’s more of a cat person then Miles

Yells at Miles for creasing his Jordan’s

“Nah homie, you gotta apologize to the J’s they didn’t deserve that”

Is a loner by choice whereas Miles is a loner by default

This man hasn’t smiled in YEARSSS

He hangs out with Uncle Aaron more than his dad

He seems like his side of the room would be cleaner than Miles

“Milo! Have you seen my- Oh Nevermind! I found it” “yeah”

Has an rbf but once you get to know him, hes kinda nice

Takes the pictures in the family

Learned to cook from his mom and regularly cooks with her while speaking Spanish

It’s so freaking cute oml. Like if there’s music playing, he will spin her to the music and everything and they will laugh

He’s not a snowbunny lol. He’s down with the brown

He seems like he wears 100 million cologne

Smells better and is more put together than Miles

Overall, he’s more razor sharp

More nonchalant

Definitely is a tad bit jealous that Miles is apart of a spider society

[pear1escence]

When no one’s around (18+)

Keegan P. Russ x fem!Reader

Content Warnings: Smut, blowjob, fingering, light degradation.

A/N: Writing this was such a pain, could only finish that last part cus I was in the horny😞 2,3k words

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You can’t seem to get comfortable on the couch. Not with the lack of a pillow behind you, instead having the edge of the armrest digging into the back of your head, not with the couch pillows that aren’t soft enough to really sink into. No, the couch in Keegan’s home office was really just for decoration, to fill up the space of the room, another touch you’d added to piff up the space to your liking.

The sound of his computer keys merge with the sound of your music as he clicks away at it. He’s entirely focused on his work, much to your displeasure. This wasn’t at all what you’d had in mind for the evening, but he was a busy man, and you didn’t want to disturb him when he had work to finish up.

You can’t seem to stay still, hands jittering from the book in your lap to your phone to change playlists, or scroll away on Pinterest. He hasn’t even glanced over at you. Hasn’t said anything to you during the half hour that you’ve spent in there. Ugh.

You seem to catch his attention with your constant shuffling, though, and he huffs out a laugh as those pale blue eyes finally meet yours. “Come over here, baby. Keep me company.” That gorgeous, deep tone of his voice, sweet and intoxicating like honey, finally drawing you out of your boredom.

You’re at his side in a moment, his arm reaching around your waist to pull you over his lap. It’s not hard to make yourself comfortable on the width of his thighs, the soft fabric of his sweats underneath your bare legs. “Been neglecting you, haven’t I?” He murmurs, voice laced with humor. His arm stays around your waist, the short sleeve of his shirt pulled around his bicep and showing off his well-earned muscles.

Your hand traces down his arm to take his, your fingers playing with his hand while it slips underneath your shirt to rub at the side of your stomach. “Mhm, you have.” Your head tips back, placing a kiss on his neck, the comforting smell of him calming you.

His other hand leaves his keyboard as well, finding its place massaging the chubbiness of your inner thigh. His legs spread wider, and in response you spread your thighs to accommodate, pressing yourself closer to him. You’re not sure if you’ve imagined the sharp breath that leaves him, but no, it’s just been a little too long since you’ve had time for each other, time lost to his near constant travels and your own work.

“M‘sorry, doll. Been ignoring my girl, hm? Left you to please yourself all on your own?” The way his voice gets so deep when he speaks quietly. God. “Fuck, it’s been long, huh?” He laughs, and yeah, you feel his cock swelling underneath you. His hand moves to cup your cunt through the fabric of your sweatshirts, a sigh leaving you at the pressure of his hand, your cotton panties rubbing against your clit.

“Too long.” You mutter, “Missed the way you touch me.” And fuck, you really have. Your fingers can’t compare to the way his fingers can fill you up, can’t come close to the way the thickness of his cock stretches you out so well.

You move your hips in a teasing, circular motion, a deliciously deep groan leaving his lips as his thighs jut forwards. In return, he grinds his cock against your ass, the additional feeling of his hand pressing onto you causing you to whine in anticipation.

His hands move to push both your shorts and underwear off your thighs, hoisting your thighs over his to gain him access. He raises his hand, sucking his fingers into his mouth to coat them in his spit before he moves to rub his fingertips over your clit.

Your back arches against his chest, legs spreading wider. “Mmf…Keegan..” you whine, a drawn out, needy little sound. His fingers move in slow circles, his head leaning forwards to bite and suck at your neck. “Needy fucking thing, aren’t you?” His voice is just a murmur, words spoken directly into your ear and sending jolts down your body. “Can’t get yourself off properly on your own?” His finger rubs at your core, dipping into your cunt, causing an embarrassing whine to leave your lips.“No, no…you need me for that, can’t make yourself feel as good as I can.” He’s being mean, fuck, that mocking tone in his voice, you can feel your pussy get slicker with the need for the pleasure he could give you.

He pushes two fingers into you, and ffffuck if it doesn’t feel good. Pumping inside you and out in quick movements, rubbing at that spot he knows send jolts of pleasure up your stomach. His other hand presses down on your stomach, increasing the pleasure, and your hand on his bicep squeezes desperately for support, your sounds filling the room. Fuck, it’s not fair, the way he knows just how to touch you to get you like this.

“Feels good, yeah? Can’t even leave you to yourself for a week? you just get so fuckin’ desperate for me, sweet girl.”

Your fingers reach down to stop him, the attempt pathetic, weak, but his movements slow. You turn your body around to straddle him, your hand moving over the bulge of his cock in his sweats, palming his hard-on through the fabric. The groan that leaves his lips makes you want to get on your knees and suck him off just to hear the other noises he’d make.

Keegan’s hand moves to weave itself in the root of your hair, pulling your head up to meet your eyes. He’s got that almost hazy look in his eyes, probably mirroring your own expression, his breath heavy. “You wanna get on your knees? Suck me off?” His words send shocks through your stomach, a whine leaving your lips. His thumb traces your bottom lip, moving to dip into your parted lips. Your tongue gives the pad of his thumb a little lick, your lips closing around it and sucking at his thumb.

He slaps your cheek with his other hand, an amused look in his eyes. “Words, baby, wanna hear you say it. Gone stupid on me, have you, dollface?” His thumb stays on your bottom lip while his other hand moves downwards. He flicks your clit, causing you to jump and earn a laugh from him, before he rubs slow, small circles over your clit, immediately easing the pain.

You rock back and forth, chasing the pleasure of his fingers rubbing at you. “Yes, yeah, fuck…wanna make you…ffeel good too, Keegs…”

He smiles in an almost teasing manner, his hand reaching up to squeeze a handful of your ass. “C’mon then, pretty girl..on your knees.”

Your bare knees rub against the rough fabric of the carpet as you shuffle onto the floor. You place your hands on his thighs, feeling the fabric of his sweats by running them up and down before coming up to his waistband. You shuffle his sweats down to his knees, exposing the loose boxers sitting around his waist. He’s hard as a rock underneath that black fabric, a wet mark over the swell of his tip where he’s leaking pre.

You hum in approval, causing him to chuckle, his hand coming up to bury itself in the root of your hair. “Hurry up.” He mutters, and you glare at him, rolling your eyes. He’s got that snarky, annoying smirk on his face, making you consider the option of leaving him to pleasure himself, just for a moment. Nah. He’s too tempting right now.

You wrap your hand around his cock, jacking him through the fabric of his boxers. You’re growing slow, so fucking slowly that you can see the annoyance growing in his eyes. You laugh, a grin spreading across your face much to his annoyance, and his hands find the hem of his waistband almost immediately to pull them down and out of the way.

“So impatient,” you mutter, sending him a quick, alluring smile.

You spit into the palm of your hand, reach out to touch him. He inhales sharply, and you wouldn’t have noticed the slight tense of his thighs if you weren’t staring so intensely. You want to stretch this out for long, pull his patience thin, get him all riled up and frustrated, and your eyes flicker to his face to gage his reaction.

Your fingertips trace over the reddened, sensitive skin of his tip, barely skimming over the area, moving downwards to travel down the underside of his length, down to the root of his cock. He doesn’t look annoyed. Instead, there’s a look of confidence in his eyes, calm, so like him. His eyes roam over you, taking in your features, the sparkle in your eyes, glossed lips and your teasing smile. Fuck, he’s hot.

The way he looks at you makes your stomach flutter, the way he seems so content to let you play with him like this, leaned back on his chair, just admiring the pretty girl on her knees in front of him, his pretty girl. He has an air of dominance around him, even though you’re the one controlling his pleasure right now. Not aggressive, not particularly sexual either, just an unspoken agreement between the two of you that Keegan is in control.

Two of your fingers connect with your thumb to wrap around him, stroking along the length of his cock, your thumb coming up to rub circles around his tip while you lean forwards to lap at his balls. Your free hand comes up to trace the skin along his inner thigh, and his moving to rest on the back of your neck. Your lips wrap around his balls, coating them in your saliva before his hand pushes you closer, making you shift your attention to lick a trail up his dick. He hums in approval, his thighs spreading further.

Your lips wrap around the tip of his cock, suckling gently while your tongue swirls around the tip. “Thaaats it, good girl.” He groans, his eyes meeting yours when you look up at him through your eyelashes. You flatten your tongue along his shaft, opening your mouth wider to take him deeper. One of your hands fondling his balls, slick with your spit, the other stroking his cock while you suck him off. The hand on your head kneading into your hair, pushing you to take more of him. “C’mon, take me deeper, fuckkk, you’re such a slut for me.” He groans.

His hand keeps guiding you, forcing your head further down, your mouth stuffed with his cock. You moan around him, the taste of his pre bitter on your tongue, you gag when he finally pushes your head all the way down. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, sucking me off like a fucking whore. Should keep you on your knees all the time while I work, hm? Make time pass by a lot faster, you want that?” His voice getting all deep and throaty.

You can barely catch your breath, flattening your tongue along his dick while he bobs your head up and down. You’re almost ashamed of how much you enjoy it, the way he uses your mouth for his pleasure like this, your panties soaked through with your wetness. You don’t notice his hand has moved before he slaps you across the face, hard, with the hand on your head keeping you in place. “Answer me.” He speaks, your eyes brimming with tears as you look back at him. He smirks as he pushes you back down on his cock, causing you to whine in surprise, and you can’t form proper words with your mouth stuffed. “Yes,” you whimper, sounding more like an ‘eth’, and he chuckles in response, gripping your hair with more force and moving you along his cock. His noises grow in volume as his movements grow faster, deep groans leaving his mouth as his head falls back against the back of his chair.

“Fuck, feels so fucking good, you’re so good.” He groans, a broken moan of your name escaping him. His back curves, and he slides further towards the edge of his seat. His hand grips your hair tightly, roughly bobbing your head up and back down his cock. “M’close, so fucking close, babydoll.” He moans, “Gonna paint that pretty face with my cum, shit.”

He was babbling mindlessly, drunk on pleasure and solely focused on how good you felt around his cock. “Fuckkk, doll, love that pretty fucking mouth, love the way you suck my cock, taking me like a fucking slut.” He groans, and you look up at him to catch the expression on his face. He’s struggling to keep his eyes on you, his brows knotted together in pleasure, biting his lip so hard you’re surprised he hasn’t drawn blood.

“Shit, m’ so fuuucking close, baby, i’m gonna cum, fuck I’m gonna cum, all over that gorgeous face, shiiit-“ his eyes rolling back as his thighs jut upwards, causing you to gag as his cock hits the back of your throat, “Gonna fucking-“ his hand harshly pull you off his cock as he grips his cockshaft, stroking himself desperately. You stick your tongue out for him, your eyes completely fixated on his face, the way his mouth drops open in pleasure, a strum of ‘fuck fuck fuck’s leaving his mouth as a string of white cum shoots out, coating your tongue and your face as he moans desperately, fucking gone in pleasure.

When the high of his orgasm fades, he slumps back on his chair, his arms slung onto the armrests. His chest heaves as he takes in one heavy breath after the other, eyes remaining closed. You breathe out a laugh, swallowing the spend that landed on your tongue as his hand comes up to caress your cheek. He breathes out a ‘thank you’ before his hand falls to rest on his knee.

[stardustloserdoll]

heyy! how are you? can you do tom x reader where reader is 15 and tom is 18 and he is reader’s stepbrother,also I really love your writing🫶🏼🤍

heyy i’m doing okay! hope you’re doing good. and thank you sm🤍🙈

tom being your stepbrother

yes he is the annoying older brother

but he’s like 2000s cooler older brother

alwaysss picks on you and loves starting fights 🙄

he’s always coming into your room and messes it up and is so nosy

he’s such a sore loser when you play video games

he gets excited when you ask if he can teach you how to play but he’s like “yeah whatever, i can’t say no cause i’ll get in trouble” 🙄 but he loves teaching you

introduces you to his favorite music

any clothes that don’t fit him anymore he gives to you

if you listen to tokio hotel, you definitely have so many posters in your room and you draw on tom’s face with sharpie 😭

youre laughing drawing horns on him and he comes in like “WHY ARE YOU DOING THAT TO ME.”

you guys make video recordings of you guys singing and playing

he takes you to school but dude. he drives so crazy he swerves, speeds, and has the windows down blasting music

once he drops you off he’s like “have a good day!” and you come out of the car SHAKING

always taking bad pictures of you so he can make fun of them

youre always touring with them and it’s always fun especially since you get to miss school

they all try helping you with your homework depending on what subject they are good at

he will be so annoying if you have a crush on someone but will actually be your wing man

even though you guys fight a lot he loves you so much

[opticfile]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲

—✦ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 // in which alfred is a truck driver and you're his favorite stop

✧ i loooooove writing for alfred i love love love it hes my favorite to write for probably

—✦ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 // Alfred F Jones (APH America)

—✦ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 // swearing, reader is hit on by unwanted college boy, fluff, gn!reader

A few things help Alfred get through his days and nights. One is some music, another is phone calls with his buddies. Whatever it is, he just needs something to fill the dull air as he drives endlessly from one place to another. Singing along to a Gwen Stefani song (probably one from her No Doubt era) or dancing in his seat at red lights always helps keep his mood high. Waving to little kids in their mom’s backseats when they look up at him in awe and wonder is always nice, too, it makes him feel like more than just a truck driver, it’s like he’s Superman and flying over the city after saving the day.

But truth be told though, he’d have a hard time staying awake behind the wheel on especially hard days without his coffee. This man doesn’t exactly have the healthiest diet, especially not while driving, his passenger's seat is always full of fast-food bags and his cup holder always has soda or an energy drink lingering in it. Coffee, however, helps him start his day off right. It’s a tasty, warm energizer early in the morning when his eyes are still adjusting and his brain still isnt awake.

Yet the only thing that can get his day off to a good start better than coffee is you.

You’re a sweet college student, probably close to graduating, maybe a four-year degree, he thinks. You work at a cafe he frequents as often as he can, as long as he’s in the area it's his number one choice for his morning coffee and bagels. Half of it is because he really likes the coffee, the rest is because he likes seeing you.

You’re way too kind for someone working the early morning opening shift. You always smile at him and banter with him, no matter how clearly exhausted you are. And he’s way too cheery for a guy who wakes up at the ass-crack of dawn to drive a big ass truck around all day, so you guys have that one in common. You have a lot in common. Maybe you guys have matching eyebags, he thinks, or your voices are equally as groggy. 

But you always smile when he comes in, he's a regular at this point, the kind of regular who doesn't even need to order because the barista knows what he's getting. You always draw a little heart next to his name on his cup, sometimes lately you’ve been writing Alfie instead of Alfred, too. That one will never cease to make his heart stutter. You know exactly how much cream cheese he likes on his bagels, you know exactly how much cream to put in his coffee, and yeah maybe that's just because you’ve made the same order for him a gazillion times but he likes to think of it as something more intimate than it is. 

One time you complimented his hoodie, it had a little alien head embroidered over his heart, and “I come in peace!” was written over his back. You noticed it, you mentioned it, you complimented it, and he broke out into a grin.

“Really? I think it's great, too.” He said triumphantly. “My brother said it was corny, but you should see some of the shit he wears.”

“Corny? Maybe. Cute? Definitely.” You giggled, writing his name on a large cup. 

“You’re supposed to be on my side, you know.” He winked playfully, leaning on the counter and watching you as you made his drink. He’s seen you do it a thousand times, he never gets over how efficient you are.

“I said it was cute!” You said, defensively, a coy glint in your eyes. “But I can’t exactly lie to you, either.”

He laughed joyfully.

The first time Alfred saw you he thought you were cute, the second time he thought your haircut was cool. Now when he sees you it's like a puppy seeing his owner after they’ve been at work all day. He gets happy, his stomach does backflips like an Olympic gymnast, and he can’t stop smiling.

Most of the time it's just you, him, and one or two of your coworkers. Not many customers pop in so early—shocker, right?—so he gets to enjoy chatting with you until his coffee is ready before he has to set off on the road. 

Sometimes there’s another person in the cafe though, sometimes two. One time that other person was clearly a college guy, one who had no business being here this early, one that should be hungover and passed out on his frat house’s deck instead of leaning over the counter and trying to flirt with you.

That was probably the first time Alfred realized you weren’t just his barista friend, but his barista crush. What tipped him off? The fact he wanted to grab the guy by his collar and carry him out of the building like a mama cat carrying its kitten by the scruff of its neck.

He didn’t, by the way, he wouldn’t do that unless you asked him to.

Instead, he just grit his teeth as he waited in line behind the guy, listening as he dragged out the ordering process to drop some lame pickup line that made his skin crawl—and yours too, judging by the awkward smile on your face and the forced laugh you humored him with. Alfred definitely wanted to groan out loud at that point. When the guy finally got the hint and left, Al walked up to the counter with a smile, and your shoulders relaxed and you sighed. 

“Long time, no see, partner.” You smiled tiredly up at him. 

It had been a long time, maybe a week or two, and he realized he missed you all that time, too. 

“Yeah, it’s great to be back in town.” He tipped his ballcap like he was tipping a cowboy hat, a dumb grin on his face. He didn’t have to place his order, you knew already.

You giggled softly at that. Was it just him or were you more exhausted than usual? Maybe the weirdo hitting on you drained your social battery or something, maybe it was finals week or something. 

“Great to have you back, I missed my favorite regular.” 

“Aw, you tellin’ me you have other regulars?” He clutched his pears in faux shock, acting hurt for dramatic effect. Somewhere to your left, your coworker snorted.

“Maybe, but none of them are as cool as you.” You grinned. “And none of them have such easy orders, either.”

“I’m a simple man, what can I say.” 

When you handed him his coffee and bagel, your fingers brushed his, and he felt a tingle go down his arm for a split second. Then you winked, and he felt one in his heart.

To say you felt any different than him would be a lie.

Alfred was definitely your favorite regular, that was no joke when you said it to him no matter how playful your tone was. He was always sweet and respectful and always cheered you up when you were barely dragging yourself through your shift.

The first time he came in you thought he was hot, the second time he came in you thought he was funny, and now when he comes in you feel a breath of fresh air cut through the coffee-scented air and your heart speeds up momentarily at his smile.

His smile always got to you. It was so attractive, he had such nice straight teeth and his lips framed them perfectly. It felt like a beautiful oil painting framed in gold or something. What came out of those lips was no different, his voice was always pleasing to the ears, and sometimes he came in sounding like he just rolled out of bed, and that was also pleasing. 

Alfred’s presence was the best part of your week, everything else sucked if you were being honest. Your coworkers made it really hard to feel positive when they were so bitter because they had to do the job they applied for. Your patience was thinning every day, and honestly when that guy from one of your classes showed up you felt like quitting then and there. Thankfully he never came back, if he did you probably would’ve thrown down your apron as soon as he entered. 

As much as you hate to say it, Alfred alone wasn't enough for you to want to keep the job. So you turned in your two weeks, you found a new job—one much more impressive than “barista”—and you counted the days until you were free from your coffee-stained shackles.

The last week of your job you didn’t see Alfred once, and you were starting to get anxious that you wouldn’t see him again. Maybe you could get one of your lazy coworkers to give him your number, or you could show up every morning until he was there. 

(that was in no way plausible, you barely even wanted to show up now and you work there)

But, to your relief, on your last day, Alfred popped through the window. His blue eyes shone through his glasses, his blonde hair was a mess, and he was wearing a hoodie with his iconic bomber jacket over it. He looked warm, he looked good. He grinned widely at you, shooting you finger-guns as he approached the counter.

“If it isn’t my favorite barista!” 

“And my favorite customer returns! I was getting worried, you know.” You smiled back, grabbing a cup for his drink.

“Aw, I always come back to this place! If you didn’t see me today, you’d see me tomorrow or next week or something.” He promised.

“I actually wouldn’t.” You said, “Because I wouldn’t be here.”

Alfred paused, “What’d’ya mean?”

“It’s my last day.” You smiled, glancing back up to him momentarily and catching the way his lips tugged down slightly.

“Like… forever?” He asked.

“Yup, I got myself a shiny new job.” You boasted.

“So I won’t get my morning coffee from you anymore?” He leaned on the counter, his voice seemed disappointed.

“Uh,” You pulled your eyes away from the coffee machine to meet his, “Yeah. Not anymore.”

He nodded slowly, “I won’t get to see you again, then?”

You chuckled to yourself, “Of course you will, silly.”

“I will?”

“Yeah, did you think I would part ways with you without giving you my number or something?” You grinned.

Slowly, he did too. His eyes twinkled and his chest shook in laughter. “I’d sure hope not.”

You smiled, face warming a little as he stared at you intently. This time, when you handed him his coffee and bagel your number was written beneath his name. 

“So, your number-?”

“It’s on the cup.” You noted.

“Got it. Yeah. I’ll- I’ll call you.” He grinned, walking backward for a moment before ripping his eyes away from your face and walking out the door feeling like a giddy teenage girl.

Today his day got off to an amazing start. Coffee always helped with that, but you? You always made it ten times better.

✧ navigation.

[katyawriteswhump]

(i'm still) watching you—harringrove microfic

my first attempt at harringrove and probably totally weird like my usual shit, so… yeah, nervous. but I love prompts/challenges too much to resist… Pls be kind 🙂 

WC: 914. For @harringrovemicrofic prompt, green (I also got a passing mention of Jason Carver in for the additional prompt.)

CW: None. Tags: angst, pining, chronic illness (Fibro/Chronic fatigue), enemies to lovers, h/c, no Upside Down AU, slightly soft Billy? Rating: M.

…

Steve hated sitting in the stands watching the Tigers win without him.

Hargrove rained all over the hoop, right until the full-time whistle ripped through Steve’s skull. Simultaneously, Billy ripped his vest off—shouting, thudding his chest, scanning the crowd.

His crazily soft-blue eyes rested on Steve. That smug grin faltered, and Steve’s heart gave a crazy little squeeze.

Billy’s attention snapped away. His teammates carried him on a lap of victory, and Steve shaded his eyes. Too fucking much. Since he’d got sick, the doctors had droned on about Steve having to pace himself. Today, that’d been a bust—all for the torture of watching Hargrove play.

Even though Steve hated him.

And he’d chew on that image of shirtless Billy for goddamn weeks.

“Stop bawling, Harrington.” Steve startled, squinted into the suddenly too-bright light. Tommy H waggled a stuffed tiger in front of his nose: “You can be team mascot. This one’s got even less backbone than you.”

“Jesus, I’m gonna punch your stupid face in!”

Steve pushed himself up. Despite his dumb threat, it took all his strength to stumble away. Halfway to the exit, he collapsed onto a seat, slumping forward with his head in his hands. The crowd stomped by, sending shockwaves through his aching bones. Nobody offered to help. Probably figured he’d bite their heads off…

A hand landed on his shoulder. “You okay?” asked Billy.

WTF? Steve flinched away. Up close, he couldn’t handle those stupidly long lashes and gorgeous eyes. “M’fine.”

“Want a ride?”

“You leaving already?” Steve gawked at Billy’s pecs. “Guess there’s only so much showboating even your fat ego can take.”

Billy arched his brow. “I’m sick of this shit. Your ex-teammates are fucking losers, you know that?”

Uh… Yeah?

“Whatever, dude. I’m leaving with Nance.” Steve had just spotted her with freshman golden-boy, Jason Carver, scribbling madly in her notebook.

“She’s writing an essay on that asshole. Couldn’t bag me. Seriously, I need space. Figured you might too.”

Space with me? “Jesus, you still never stop talking! You hate me. What’s your game?”

Billy shrugged. “I don’t hate you, man. It genuinely sucks you had to be benched. Don’t have to believe me, but I actually miss you.”

Miss humiliating me? Miss me rubbing my ass against you while you shoved me around!?! Guess I enjoyed touching you as much as I hated you. I mean, uh, I STILL hate you…

“I don’t need your fucking sympathy, Hargrove.”

“Not offering fucking sympathy.”

Steve’s heart repeated that crazy squeeze. He’d grabbed the hem of Billy’s green shorts before he knew it.

Don’t leave. I honestly can’t get up without help right now. Won’t ask for help, either.

Billy harrumphed vaguely, casually offered a hand. Steve clasped it—since when did he dig slippery palms?—let Billy draw him up and sling an arm around him. Even with Billy’s help, the effort of walking consumed Steve completely till he sank into the Camaro.

Billy winked at him from the driver’s seat. “Don’t worry, I’ll go gentle.”

“Jesus, I’m not gonna break.”

“You wanna go home?”

Yeah, I totally should. “No fucking way. Anywhere but this dump.”  

With minimal wheelspin, Billy tore from the school grounds. He didn’t play loud music. They didn’t talk much either. Seemed Billy did occasionally shut up. Only Steve fizzing nerves—WTF AM I DOING?—kept him awake until Billy slammed to a halt.

Steve blinked. “Where are we?”

“One of the few places in this shithole that’s not a shithole.” Billy hurried around and helped Steve from the car.

“I’m not a fucking princess,” Steve bitched.

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

“Screw you.” Steve’s glare melted into a laugh that he almost felt.

They’d arrived somewhere in the hills, which smelled of spring grasses. Steve slipped from Billy’s warm grasp—not without a dumbass pang—lay flat on the soft turf. Beyond the trickle of a stream, it was so quiet, he dozed almost instantly.

Then, through the blur of his lashes, he spotted Billy stripping his shorts. Christ, that ass!

Billy headed for the stream. His smirk was as mind-blowing as his body. “I skipped showers.”

“Fucking show-boater.” Steve snickered.

He watched Billy wade thigh deep, splash sparkling droplets over that lick-able, lithely muscled torso. He wished he could watch this a billion times over, ached to join Billy, then his eyelids grew too heavy, his fatigue winning, and��� Shit!

Deep inside, something snapped. He slung an arm across his face and cried, drifted, then cried again, shamelessly sniffling. A brush against his arm stirred him. Billy lay stretched beside him, towel around his waist, chin rested on a fist.

“Tears are cathartic, huh?”

Steve rolled to full-on sneer at Billy. Ended up fixed on Billy’s lush mouth, fretting his own lower lip. “Quit mocking me.”

“I’m not. Tears help. Apart from when they’re too damn painful. You don’t have to say which those are.”

Billy reached out, as if to push hair from Steve’s damp eyes, then hesitated. Steve grabbed Billy’s fingers, like he’d grabbed for his shorts. He barely breathed. He clasped Billy’s stream-chilled knuckles to his own burning face, like his life depended on it.

“Meant what I said about missing you,” murmured Billy, as Steve drowned in those adoring eyes. “None of those dicks are half-decent rivals. It sucks we never got a chance to work through that tension and…"

This is a dream, right?

Billy’s fingers slid up through Steve’s hair, gently drawing him closer, and they tumbled into a kiss.

[cowpokeomens]

I think Davis would be very into cosplay in the bedroom, not to be pointing out the obvious but he's a comic book guy and to add on to that, we've all seen the fireman outfit photo by now right?

Also I think he's the type to let you dominate the fuck out of him in private. He wants you on top, setting the pace. In public he'll have his arm around you making sure nobody comes close. Idk though I ha e t thought about it that much...

Davis has been heavy on my spirit since yesterday

Here are some of my thoughts:

Davis

- tits guy. Likes how they move when he fucks you hard (the only way he fucks you, because he likes how they move)

- soooo into role play. So into it. You don’t need to method act or anything, putting on whatever outfit he’s dreamed of is perfectly effective!

- softie :-/ very very soft, probably draw pictures of you/for you, wants to cook you dinner, likes having you sit in his lap because he’s a Big Strong Man

- definitely lets you dom him, is more than happy to hand over the reins for you to bounce on his cock in his lap, he’s not stupid of course he’ll let you do that!!!!!

- definitely the sort to be proud of what he pulled. He’s never gonna say “that shirt is too revealing” because he’s like “yeah my baby’s tits are out I can’t believe she’s gonna come home with me this is crazy everyone look what I pulled!!!” Like has zero fear that other people seeing you is gonna make your eye wander.

- if you’re also the creative sort it gets him rock fucking hard. Art, writing, music, whatever- if you’re into any kind of creative endeavors he’s promoting your work and bragging about your accomplishments and skill to anyone who will listen

- if you’re also into comics, he’s proposing. If you’re not into comics but want to be, he’s sending you home with a stack of his recommendations (I also have a stack of recommendations feel free to ask for them) and then he’s asking your opinions on each of them because he likes your brain and how you interpret and understand things :-/

- I don’t think he’s a munch, but he does have Cum Goblin energy for sure. Like he will give you head, but it’s definitely more of a service to you than a thing for him. Let him cum on your tits though and you’re locked in, he’s deleting the dating apps and asking if you want to be exclusive :-/

- probably gets really really shy when any of the guys ask about you before you’re officially dating. Doesn’t wanna jinx anything :-( but they see him smiling at his phone and they notice him disappearing on the weekends! He’s not subtle!

- yeah :-/ I want him to raw me *long suffering sigh*

[t0ast-ghost]

Here’s my thoughts on Star Trek V: The Final Frontier

There’s swear words, star trek, and spoilers oh my!

Start it up:

- “The planet of galactic peace.” Somehow. I don’t believe that.

- This guy on his horse looks like death

- “Let us explore it together.” Come take my hand. Let us take ibuprofen together.

- It’s hard to dislike Sybok when he smiles like that so they have to add in a somewhat evil laugh

- Epic music is a go (Music by Jerry Goldsmith)

- “‘You’ll be able to relax’ you call this relaxing? I’m a nervous wreck. If I’m not careful I’ll end up talking to myself.” Kirk convinced him to come here and now he has to watch his idiot husband climb a rock

- Kirk knows Spock and McCoy are there to catch him when he falls but goddamnit if they aren’t both really tired of his shit

- No but seriously what is with science fiction and thinking ‘yeah there’s a race of cat people’ looking at you too doctor who

- Caithlin Dar is awesome already.. I don’t trust Talbot (edit: haha too bad they’re characters don’t really do anything anyway)

- Scotty narrating is my favourite actually

- UHURA IS AWESOME

- are Uhura and Scotty dating?

- “Admit it. We’re lost!” “All right, we’re lost. But we’re making good time.” Didn’t know I needed Sulu and Chekov to go hiking together but I do

- “Yes uh- yes, we’ve been caught in a blizzard.” *Chekov starts blowing into the microphone* god I love them. He just went with it!

- Bones ringing the triangle out of spite and love

- The husbands sitting down and eating beans. Why would they make star trek about literally anything else

- Coming back strong with the extra wh sound (it was in the last movie when McCoy said whales)

- The trivia panel is telling me that one of the goofs is Kirk calling Tennessee whiskey bourbon and it looks like something Spock would write

- McCoy laughing and talking about Spock’s Vulcan metabolism and Spock indulging by saying he’s also half human and McCoy responding with “well it certainly doesn’t show” to which he knows Spock’ll take as a compliment. Yes I do need old married mcspirk.

- “You know, you two could drive a man to drink.” Then Kirk with all the innocence and nonchalance in the world says, “me? What did I do?” “What did you do? You really piss me off, Jim.”

- McCoy is lecturing Kirk cause he can’t take anymore of his almost dying bullshit

- “I knew I wouldn’t die because the two of you were with me.” “I do not understand.” “I’ve always known I’ll die alone.” I’m about to cry because this is true. He dies in a distant future without either of them. Thinking about it they all somewhat die alone. Maybe Spock was there for McCoy but we never see his death. And Spock dies in an alternate past :(((

- “It’s a mystery to me what draws us together…Other people have families.” “Other people, Bones, not us.” They are each other’s family.

- SPOCK ROASTING A MARSHMALLOW (not sure why they call it a ‘marsh melon’)

- This is the silliest thing they could have possibly put in a movie (this is like a comfort fic but a movie and I am so here for it)

- “God, I liked him better before he died.” McCoy is getting nasty and Kirk is now like ‘well time to sleep’

- “Life is not a dream.” “Go to sleep, Spock.”

- Why is the head Klingons outfit so cunty. Why’re the Klingons so silly?

- They caught Spock in his jammies

- “Well gentlemen, it seems shore leave has been cancelled.” They can’t go on ONE DATE

- Why’re they huddled together on the ship like that?

- “‘All I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.’” “Melville.” “John Masefield.” “Are you sure about that?” “I am well versed in the classics, Doctor.” “Then how come you don’t know Row, Row, Row Your Boat?” Spock makes the most frowny and tired face imaginable. I think McCoy was justified in biting back there cause imagine you wake up, get in a shuttle, and then get corrected. All I’m saying is Spock was being a bit of a know it all (wouldn’t have him any other way)

- “*laughs* I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier.” McCoy is so jolly in this one

- The yeoman with Kirk’s jacket is played by Shatner’s daughter

- HE ACTUALLY HAS A SHIRT THAT SAYS ‘go climb a rock.’ omg

- That fucking outfit oh my goodness

- “What’s the matter, Jim?” “I miss my old chair.” And then it switches to Spock who’s going :[

- Love how the Klingons all know who Kirk is. Like he’s THAT important

- Aww Kirk can’t write his diary :((

- Their silhouettes are so cute (34:06) (also they look like how aliens coming out of a spaceship look, I just think that’s neat)

- McCoy has to turn on the lights like, ‘stop sulking in the damn dark.’

- “Imagine that, a passionate Vulcan.” What McCoy? You want Spock to be more passionate?

- “This is Captain Pavel Chekov speaking.” He’s so silly for that. But also it’s probably best he doesn’t say ‘acting captain’ as that would arouse suspicion cause as everyone knows the captain is always the first to go on dangerous away missions

- What’s going on? Why is Uhura dancing ? What.

- What. Was. That. Scene. Why.

- “Spock.” “Yes, captain?” “Be one with the horse.” “Yes, captain.” Oookay

- “Hold your horse, captain.” Good one.

- Spock just. He just nerve pinched that horse.

- Spock does not know how to deal with seeing his estranged brother again (yeah I was spoiled) so, “you are under arrest for seventeen violations of the neutral zone treaty.” Is what he went with

- Sybok complimented and then winked at Kirk HE IS TAKEN

- “We’re going to forego the tractor beam and fly her in manually.” “Manually?” “How often have you done this?” “Actually it’s my first attempt.” Personally wouldn’t trust anyone else to attempt that other than Sulu. He is THAT bitch (/pos)

- EXPLOSION!!!!! CRASHHHH

- whooo space stuff! Sorry the photon torpedo just missing as the enterprise went into warp was cool

- Spock’s got a gun!

- McCoy comes out of the ship and is so confused and looks to Spock and Kirk

- Ohhh no. Sybok is gonna do his thingy magic thing to Sulu and Uhura with Scotty watching ‘em from above

- “What you have done is betray every man on this ship.” “Worse. I have betrayed you. I do not expect you to forgive me.” “Forgive you? I ought to knock you on your goddamn ass.” “If you think it would help.” “You want me to hold him, Jim?” “You stay out of this. Why, Spock? Why?” Lots to think about in this dialogue. But I think McCoy offering to hold Spock is him going ‘Jim you’re overreacting can’t you see he’s already remorseful?’ I could be misreading but if you understand it as the idea of McCoy holding him down is so redundant because Spock is strong enough to get out of his grasp easily but probably wouldn’t resist in this moment then it’s just like aughhhhhh

- Also Kirk asking Spock to shoot someone is bad enough. But the fact that it was his brother…

- Kirk is in disbelief. He didn’t know his own husband has a brother (half brother technically. Same Spock same.)

- “Stop it, Jim! Spock could no more kill his own brother than he could kill you. If you want to punish him for what he’s done, why don’t you throw him in the brig? Besides, we’ve got bigger problems to deal with.” Bones not only defending Spock, but also getting them back on track

- Apparently both Gene Roddenberry and William Shatner didn’t like that Sybok was Spock’s brother. Roddenberry didn’t think that Sarek would have a child with another woman (I kinda agree but also Pon Farr would’ve made him become engaged to a Vulcan before he met Amanda, so it’s not completely unthinkable). And Shatner didn’t like it cause it was too much like ‘a soap opera plot line’ but they went with it so that Spock’s actions made sense with the way he acted towards Sybok. I personally like that Spock has siblings he never told anyone about. It’s funny.

- lmao this time Kirk gets to stand on top of Spock to reach something (See patterns of force)

- Spock talking about himself in the third person because he doesn’t want to admit that he couldn’t get out of the brig

- “The bond between these three is strong, difficult to penetrate. This will be quite a challenge.” IT’S CAUSE THEY’RE MARRIED

- It’s funny that- canonically - Sybok can sense a really strong bond between them

- Kirk and McCoy’s ass I mean- oh look it’s Spock. With rocket boots!

- Spock holding onto Kirk and McCoy for their dear lives

- “I believe I overshot the mark by one level.” “Nobody’s perfect.” McCoy keeps saying this to Spock and I think it’s healing. Also flirting.

- They’re lit really nicely

- McCoy is NOT having this “Sounds like brainwashing to me.” You’re so right, back OFF Sybok

- (drawable moment 1:08:17)

- “Your pain is the deepest of all. I can feel it. Can’t you?” OH WAIT WE GET TO SEE MCCOYS PAIN WHAT

- I have no words for this scene. Holy Shit.

- Forced therapy

- Oh they all get to see each others pain cause they’re connected

- Spock gets to see his own birth… why. What.

- young Sarek 😧😳😳😳

- “So human.” YOU FUCKED THE HUMAN SAREK. God he’s such a bitch.

- SPOCK FOR THE WIN!! He’s not leaving

- MCCOYS STAYING WITH HIS HUSBANDS!!! YEAH LETS GOOO! (Personally I don’t think McCoy would go with Sybok at all, but I wasn’t sure what the writers were gonna do and I was scared they would make him leave)

- I know we’ve moved on from this but maybe Sarek saying that Spock was human was like saying ‘he’s got your eyes’ like comparing Spock to Amanda in appreciation. We’ll never know but it’s still a bitchass thing to say.

- Kirk has a plaque with ‘To boldly go where no man has gone before’ what a nerd

- They’re really hot in their uniforms

- hi god

- Kirk wants to ID god. Fair enough.

- There’s McCoy in the corner. Losing his religion

- “I doubt a God who inflicts pain for his own pleasure.” YEAH McCoy’s not standing for this shit

- Oh so Sybok wasn’t the enemy. Yeah that’s a good ending for his character. Saying bye to sock and asking for forgiveness

- “Beam up Spock and Dr. McCoy now.” “Now, just a damn minute-” Kirk said that so fast so that his husbands couldn’t argue with him

- “I am a foolish old man.” “Damn you, sir. You will try.” Spock ain’t fucking around. Also he picked up a couple of words from McCoy

- “I thought I was going to die.” “Not possible, you were never alone.” Throw me out an airlock I need some air

- SORRY the immediate moment after that was SO MUCH WORSE “Please, captain. Not in front of the Klingons.” THEY WERE ABOUT TO MAKE OUT SLOPPY

- “Cosmic thoughts, gentlemen?” “We were speculating. Is god really out there?” They were having a nice quiet conversation and it’s a shame they didn’t show it :(

- KIRK TALKING ABOUT SAM??? Oh no he was implying it was Spock

- this ending- I’m not okay.

Unfortunately I really enjoyed this one. William Shatner made a movie that was so shippy and was oblivious to it the entire time.

I know it took a really long time for me to post this one because I wanted to watch undiscovered country first, I haven’t watched it yet but I felt I needed to finally edit and post this one. I hope you enjoyed my silly little thoughts.

Star trekking across the universe. Get that stuck in your head.

Masterpost

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

curious for the ship thing so here we goo

so i’m like, roughly 5”4 maybe 5”3 i dunno. i have naturally black hair but i dyed it and now the dye is fading so it’s more of a bronze now

personality wise i’m really shy around new people and i get embarrassed/ashamed easily. i am CRAZY around my friends though especially my interests, i never shut up about it. i mostly reflect the personality off of the person im talking to though 🤷 hobbies include music (listening/playing), writing, drawing, reading, all that. i’m kind of an overthinker and i am like heavily mentally ill but it’s wtver. i also probably have autism so lmao!! i won’t lie i can also be aggressive when i get too annoyed at people but i don’t mean it idk i feel bad afterwards but i try to keep calm. i also hate disappointing others in general and i got pretty good grades in school (straight A’s babyyy) i also like to talk a bunch but i suck at starting conversations, more of a jokey type when around my friends. i don’t really do much with my appearance lmao i wear glasses and throw on a sweater and some pants when i go out and i have heavy eyebags so 😞

i’m also transmasc if that matters 🤷

Ok you did not specify which fandom so I’ll choose a character I think best fits you

Your Fandom ship: Steve Randle (The Outsiders)

Explanation: start off I think that he really likes your appearance. I think he thinks your hair was pretty cool and he would definitely tease you about being short. I’m sorry you can’t stop it. He definitely would. I see him as kind of closed off unless he’s around his friends, which would kind of be the same as you except you’re more shy version of closed off and he’s more cold version of closed off, but I somehow think that U2 could make it work and once you get through that kind of patchy rough layer of getting to know each other, you guys would be so great together. He would definitely listen to you, rant by your interests and try to understand as much as he can and in return, he would expect you to listen to his hour long rants about anything cars, drag races, car mechanics… I feel like he also kinda understands you reflecting your personality based off, who you talk to. He’s often in his best friend, Sodapops shadow, and I think he would feel super special whenever you went up to him instead of his “more attractive” friend. If you ever drew wrote some thing about me, I think he would probably keep it and cherish it forever after pretending like he doesn’t care that much and then you’d see it up on his like best table or some crap and then be like I thought you didn’t like that and then he’d be like yeah maybe maybe yeah whatever man. He can also be pretty aggressive whenever he gets annoyed at people so I think he’d understand that aspect of your personality and you guys might clash sometimes, but I think that you two would always make it up for each other. He’s also extremely hard to disappoint as a guy. I think he’s pretty low maintenance so you wouldn’t need to worry about that and he would let me know if you disappointed him in someway, but I don’t think he’s a grudge holder. Anyway yall are so cute I ship it 🧡🧡🧡

[flamingplay]

Interview: Everything Everything’s Jonathan Higgs on AI, Education, & New LP ‘Mountainhead’

by Eric Schuster

Atwood Magazine: Each album you all release has a unique style and theme. I read that Mountainhead draws from an allegory regarding “an alternate society whose existence is dedicated to endlessly growing a mountain by digging deeper at its foot — all in pursuit of a mythical mirror that sits atop its peak while avoiding a massive golden snake that lives in the pit below.” What are some of your favorite sci-fi films or novels?

Jonathan Higgs: Definitely Predator. Definitely Terminator. I like any sort of sci-fi slasher genre like that, like Alien where there’s people being picked off by a monster. It’s not very close to what I’ve written though, for this album. Yeah, I think I was looking for something that was simple enough to say in one sentence, but that could have a huge amount of different meanings if you wanted it to. I guess it would be something like, I don’t even know. It’s way too simple for a film. I think it would have to develop a hell of a lot more, but I think in terms of music, it’s sort of enough to hang everything off without it getting too complex and too bogged down with these rules of the world. It was more like, no, there’s just this big one, big idea and everything is sort of under the shadow of that rather than getting too conceptual kind of puts me off if particularly if albums get too wrapped up in detail and all that stuff. It’s fine for films or novels, it’s essential. But I think when you are making something like an album, it needs to be, the songs need to live without that knowledge. They need to be able to be good by themselves

That’s why it has such a simple setup, because I think anything, I think you can go a bit further, but I want you to keep it really monolithic and simple.

You tackle some big issues in Mountainhead, like the unsustainability of unlimited growth and income inequality and Raw Data Feel tackled the problems associated with AI. Do you see AI helping or exacerbating these issues?

Jonathan Higgs: I think it’ll help a little bit. I don’t see why it would make things worse. It’ll probably be some big tech advances that it’ll help speed up things like sustainability is the big one that everyone’s trying to do, so I don’t see how that could make things worse, but it does, of course, rely on some kind of thing. They keep mining for chips, right? I can’t remember. But there is quite a big environmental impact of making the brains of AI and obviously we’ve seen with crypto what sort of length people will go to improve their computing power and how much energy that uses, et cetera, et cetera. But no, I think it’s probably going to help bring about some of the stuff that we need to happen a bit more quickly, like renewable, wherever that may be. Some kind of advancement will probably occur thanks to ai, but it’s not just a one solution type thing. It’s more like it just looks through the options much more quickly. That’s kind of how I feel about it.

You all are very academic and methodical in your approach to writing music and creating art. Do you have any artists that you are currently listening to that are also pushing the boundaries of music?

Jonathan Higgs: I’m more in touch with what some visual people are doing. There’s this guy called Umami who makes these amazing short videos and he’s made this big long series of them and he does do music in it as well, but it’s primarily like an animation project, and I follow a lot of 3D horror guys. I mean, that’s not music either, really. And I guess musically, oh man, this year has been thin on the ground. It’s only a month in, it’s only a few weeks in. I don’t know. I’m not really tuned into anything new at the moment. I guess it’s because I’m working on other projects, I’m just trying to clear my head of musical stuff at the moment, so I can’t suggest anything.

Your website Edexhell mocked the exam quality that you were issued in school, what do you think of the current state of education?

Jonathan Higgs: I have no idea, is the truth. I don’t have any connection to people of that age. Well, my brother’s kids I guess are teenagers, but it’s Scotland and things tend to be better up there anyway. I don’t actually know. Actually, just about an hour ago I read a report saying that girls are doing better than boys at every age from primary up to uni. And that made me ponder for a moment. I dunno if that’s a problem with education, but there’s definitely something going on there, which is pretty odd. But also my mom, she’s retired now, but she was a teacher and teachers used to get it in the neck so much when I was growing up that I kind of made a soft promise to myself never to diss the education. Well, teachers in particular, I think it’s generally the same as it was. I don’t know, is the truth. I’m not involved.

Did you all see the movie Everything Everything and if so what did you think? How do you feel that they co-opted your name?

Jonathan Higgs: No, we didn’t see it. We were not very pleased with that, to be honest. It meant that 99% of Google searches for us just end up with that. Nothing against the film, but it can fuck off.

What job do you think you would have if you were not a musician?

Jonathan Higgs: I’d be in movies. I think I’d be making them, not in them. I’d be somewhere along the creative line, hopefully directing, but who knows? I could happily do that now. I do that now. I’ve directed, most of our music videos have been by me, so yeah, I enjoy that hugely.

Do you have any favorite directors?

Jonathan Higgs: Yeah, well, there’s a lot of good ones at the moment, aren’t there? I really liked Robert Eggers. I thought The Northman was brilliant. I know it was a bit silly, but I absolutely loved it. I just saw Poor Things. I thought that was pretty good. I think it’s actually a pretty great time for film at the moment. This year’s last year’s Oscar bait sort of, well, not Oscar bait, but just the things that are about to get awards in about a month and lots of really great stuff. I thought Anatomy of a Fall was amazing. I’ll always watch whatever Ridley s Scott’s up to. Yeah, I prefer, I get more excited, not prefer, but I get more excited about movies than albums recently just because I’m not, I feel like I’m so in bed with music that it’s a bit like work sometimes and movies is a bit more like I can be a fan rather than somebody who’s involved.

You mentioned that the mirror at the top of Mountainhead represents the fact that even if “you’ve got it all, what have you really got?” What is your favorite material item that you own and why?

Jonathan Higgs: Oh, my PC, no question. I’ve had a PC since I was in middle school, and then there was a long period where I didn’t have one and then I got one again and I was like, fuck, why did I have that period in my life without one? It’s the best tool a human has ever created, easily outside of the stick. It’s brilliant. I absolutely love it for creating. The power I have as one person now compared to when I was a kid on a computer is just extraordinary. The things I can make, the level of quality that you can make now the consumer can make is astounding.

This album deals with what it means to be a “human,” which is something that has been explored for centuries but has gotten harder to define as technology has infiltrated our everyday lives. What do you think are the best ways to connect with other people?

Jonathan Higgs: Sitting round a fire, the oldest one, it’s always being the best one, but if you can’t do that, then face-to-Face Place with breathable air is probably the next best thing. And obviously you can’t always do that, but doing what we’re doing now is okay.

A lot of songwriters seem to slow down as their careers progress, but you all are as prolific as ever, perhaps even more so now. Where do you find the creative energy (and literal energy) to keep creating such thought-provoking and high-intensity albums?

Jonathan Higgs: Well, I don’t have kids, so I’ve got all the energy I ever had, and a lot of my job is sitting down, so to be honest, I could use up more of my energy. In fact, a lot of my songs are about the fact that I don’t use my energy, don’t use my body. So I’ve never had a problem with that. We don’t really get, well, I don’t really get drained of juice because I don’t think making an album is very difficult. Really. We’ve done it seven times and making another one doesn’t sound difficult either. Making a good album is quite hard though.

You said it's not very physical, but that music video for Cold Reactor, you guys are out there in the cold and that looked pretty physical.

Jonathan Higgs: Well, that was a big day. We actually made five music videos that day.

Oh my god.

Jonathan Higgs: Yeah, we did all the whole album’s worth in one day, and there was a big storm that was coming into the Slate Mine, where we were. So that had a bit of a hard limit on it in terms of when we could be there. We were about to die, so that made it kind of fun.

Manchester is a modestly sized city in comparison to many other major cities in the world, yet some of the biggest and best bands of the last half-century have formed there. What do you think it is about Manchester that makes it such a hot-spot for artists?

Jonathan Higgs: It rains all the time. There’s lots and lots of venues that are good, and I think there’s good unis, so there’s good students starting bands, but there’s also this culture of music that’s already, what, forty years old, and I think people go there with the intention of being involved in music, whereas you wouldn’t get that in a lot of cities. I mean, I’m one of those people. I’m not really from Manchester, and I went there to start a band. I knew that was a place where bands could exist. It’s not like a fantastical idea that you might start a band, whereas there’s plenty of places you can go and no one will join your band. Manchester’s always been good for that. I think it self perpetuates really. Now we’ve got this culture and we’ve got this history. Then it generates more good bands.

You all have accomplished a ton in your Manchester is a modestly sized city in comparison to many other major cities in the world, yet some of the biggest and best bands of the last half-century have formed there. What do you think it is about Manchester that makes it such a hot-spot for artists?

Jonathan Higgins: It rains all the time. There’s lots and lots of venues that are good, and I think there’s good unis, so there’s good students starting bands, but there’s also this culture of music that’s already, what, forty years old, and I think people go there with the intention of being involved in music, whereas you wouldn’t get that in a lot of cities. I mean, I’m one of those people. I’m not really from Manchester, and I went there to start a band. I knew that was a place where bands could exist. It’s not like a fantastical idea that you might start a band, whereas there’s plenty of places you can go and no one will join your band. Manchester’s always been good for that. I think it self perpetuates really. Now we’ve got this culture and we’ve got this history. Then it generates more good bands.

You all have accomplished a ton in your tenure as a group. Is there anything you still hope to accomplish in your musical career?

Jonathan Higgs: Career? Oh yeah, definitely. We want a number one album. We want to headline Glastonbury Asbury, all the things that a band could ever want. I feel like we’ve achieved 1% of it, 8% of it. So yeah, you name it. I’d love to have a whole new chapter of the band.

[silversatin2105]

OMGGG IM IN LOVE W UR MATCHUP CONCEPTSSS

May I get one please 😻😻😻

Name : Mai

Cisgender female , straight!

Personality : entp-F

I LOVE talking to people , socializing is one of my biggest qualities if I may say . Even though I love talking to ppl it doesn’t mean that I tolerate any kind of disrespect toward anyone. I’ll gladly and openly shut down someone if they say anything rude !

I have Adhd , the hyperactive-can’t seems to focus one 🙂‍↕️ mhhh also I’m a big cat person , I love playing volleyball and music!

(I play as a libero/outside hitter (depending on the op team) in my vb team and I’m then main singer of my school’s band🤯)

Hobbies : DONT GET ME STARTED OMG I have so many hobbies

In sports it’s obviously , my one and only VOLLEYBALL the way I couldn’t go through college without vb is crazy

I love singing and playing the electric guitar !!! As well as drawing and I’m staring to get into painting and writing 🧏‍♀️🧏‍♀️

I have many hobbies but i spend most of my time in the gym or at vb practice !

Style :

Well I have broad shoulders from spiking so I’m trying to grow my hair out🫣

My hair are lower shoulder-length , I have lotss of layers ! I had my Korean mom’s blessing since I have red-ish reflect on my black hair 🤭

Im average height (160-ish) but Im pretty muscular if I may say (I’m also bold asl 🤫)

My style would most definitely be streetwear !! My go to outfit is those tight jersey w baggy pants nd oversized zip-up

I have pretty round feature , so I follow the Korean makeup style (pink-ish and light)

Likes : SWEETSSS AND PASTRIES the way I could binge eat a whole bakery if I could.

I love musics ,food , family nd friends time , ACADEMIC VALIDATION🗣️ , vb obviously , late night music session , skateboarding , dim lights (dim light>bright light) , manga , anime , manhwa, kdrama, thrift shopping , shopping , Jeju Island (South Korea) and Paris , learning new languages , HUMAN MIND AND HOW IT WORKS. Any berries , lychee , dragons fruit , mango.

(Can you tell that I’m a nerd?)

Dislike : mint. I despise mint (if not in chewing gum) , coconut. Soja mooncakes, jajangmyeon (Korean traditional dish) (pretty controversial ik)

Rude ppl

YEAH THZTS ALL

Thank u

LOVE YOU ND KEEP GOING W YOUR WORK

Hi

Yeah I can do you a match up, I was in three minds when it came to your match up but after discussing it with a fellow TR blogger I came to my ultimate conclusion for you match up and without much grandstanding lets get into it

Your Match is

Hanemiya Kazutora

He loves that your talkative and would spend nights awake speaking to you on the phone about multiple subjects ( I HC that Kazutora is a night owl).

Like you he loves cats and I could imagine you both visiting Baji just to pet Excalibur (Aka Peke-J), it wouldn’t be like “Hi how are you doing Baji” it would be a “Hey Baji where’s the cat?”

You both have a zero tolerance policy to bullshit, if he saw you being disrespected you know this man is going full tiger and ripping the person who dissed you a new one both metaphorically and literally and whilst he was in jail you’d not take well to anyone slandering him.

Like you I could imagine him having similar taste in music and I could imagine him giving you advice on your music, I could imagine his favourite piece of your music being his ringtone.

You and him would definitely have the perfect outfit combos with one another, i could imagine on dates you both co-ordinating with each other.

He might not get the whole Academic success thing but seeing you dedicating yourself to your studies impresses him.

I could imagine him taking you to a skate park to burn of energy when your both ticked off.

Like before you’ve both got a zero tolerance for bullshit, I could imagine you both saying something if someone was being rude to a retailer.

In summary:

I have paired you with Kazutora, sure his home life may be different to yours but you and him make it work as you both are willing to call each other out on the others BS, your musical talents are one of the things he treasures and stakeboarding with you is his favourite thing in the world, He doesn’t fully get the studying thing but he’s impressed that you show grit and determination.

 I hope this result is to your liking.

Toman Inquisitorial division member Silver

Warning:

Please do not remove original tags in Re-blogs, don’t re-post anywhere else or alter the original work.

[anamelessfool]

For the character ask game: Secondo

Oh man I'm so excited. I don't know what it is about Secondo I'm a little obsessed. And not for romantic reasons I just find his character (or at least my idea of his character) compelling. Like I can’t stop drawing his big sour face through the ages:

How I feel about this character:

He was raised to be Papa Emeritus. From a very young age he was trained in music and art and science and philosophy. Cold and calculating from a distance with a very dry deadpan sense of humor. It’s been fun writing a character who is just so assertive and sure and absolutely takes no half-measures (sometimes getting himself in binds because of it). He’s also surprisingly sentimental. There’s very few people he’s fond of and respects. He serves those people with his whole heart, even though he doesn’t express it in actual words.

People I Ship Romantically With Secondo

He’s a very guarded person so he does not fall for just anyone. For starters, they have to be an interesting combination of strong-willed and intellectual. His true love is his wife Sandra Leider who is chipper and bubbly but is extremely intelligent. Would have gone through medical school if not for certain life happenings. Just his presence alone convinced Marian to drop everything and join the Church, and he had a three-person relationship with them that got a little too heated. Is there a correlation between Sandra’s pregnancy and Marian dumping him for good? Yeah, probably….. He has lots of friends with benefits.

Non-Romantic OTP for this character

Sister Imperator. She’s his trainer and mentor and he has secretly idolized her from a very young age. He’s been intoxicated by her power for most of his life. The only person who he’d actually be subservient to. And Copia, of course. They both have an intellectual, analytical lean to their thought processes. He taught Copia how to be a fine musician. Through raising Copia he learned how to care for someone small. The experience perhaps made him a good father to his own kids in the future.

Unpopular Opinion

Ok, you said unpopular so here it is….Secondo is straight. When he’s serving as a Dom he’s open to anything subs want from him, but romantically he’s always been attracted to women and transwomen. Kink and sexual preference aren’t always intertwined.

One thing I wish happened

The brothers were killed off so quick. I trust Tobias with his art but man, so much possibilities for drama and plot are lost when there’s decisions like that. Oh well. At least we have fanfic.

Thank you for letting me be super obsessed.

[atths--twice]

Pause

A separation. A new place to live. Life moves on… but hearts don’t always get the message.

Like many people this past year, I’ve become completely immersed in Taylor Swift’s music. So many songs fit MSR so perfectly, it’s hard to not write a story based on each one. ❤️

I hope you enjoy this story. 💔❤️

February 20, 2015

“Oh, a new address? How exciting!” the administrative assistant said, her voice far too happy and bubbly for Scully. “Moving can be difficult and tiring but it also can be so beneficial, you know? Clean slate and all that?”

“Hmm,” Scully hummed, looking down at the desk.

“Well, I’ve got your address changed here. Is the phone number still the same?”

Scully looked up and met her eyes, annoyance rising at the happy smile on her face.

“Yes. It’s the same,” Scully said softly as her gaze fell to the desk again.

“Perfect. Well, everything is all set. Thank you, Doctor Scully.”

“Yeah. You’re welcome. Thanks,” Scully said with a nod as she turned and walked from the hospital’s office.

She frowned as she continued to the parking garage and got into her car. Waiting for a moment to let it warm up, she thought about what the woman had said.

“A clean slate,” she whispered almost angrily, shaking her head as tears filled her eyes.

Drawing in a deep breath, she looked around and wiped her face, not wanting to be seen crying in her car and gaining the attention of her colleagues.

She left the garage and drove to the apartment she had moved into two weeks ago. Parking in her designated spot, she took the elevator to the third floor and walked down the hall.

A clean slate, she thought as she stepped inside and closed the door, locking it behind her. Dropping her keys onto the small table, she shook her head as she looked around the room.

A small stack of boxes sat waiting to be unpacked. Laundry filled a tall basket, desperately needing to be washed. The furniture she had ordered needed to be unboxed and put together. The new mattress was leaning against the wall, still wrapped in plastic.

Since moving in, she had been sleeping on the couch covered in a blanket she had taken off the bed when she left. It smelled like home and using it was equal parts comforting and painful.

The plain white set of dishes and nondescript cutlery had been set on the counter and opened to remove only one of each item, the rest of the box remaining unpacked.

Every time she had come home, the thought of doing anything beyond what was absolutely necessary had made her feel tired, sad, and overwhelmed.

This was not a happy move or a chance for the clean slate that had been mentioned. This was a separation from the man she loved, an uprooting from her home, and she hated it.

All of it.

She hated the sterile smell of the apartment, as well as the layout of it, the color of the walls, and the way the bathroom handle squeaked when she turned on the water despite her many attempts to fix it.

But what she hated the most, was being alone after living with someone for so long.

The silence around her felt so heavy and pressing at times, it made her want to scream. It felt suffocating and sometimes she had to open all the windows, to let the cold winter air in, causing her to shiver as she took in deep breaths to calm herself.

“I can’t keep living this way. I have to take care of it,” she said determinedly, wiping away the tears she had not realized she had been crying. “No more excuses.”

She changed into a pair of black leggings and one of Mulder’s old gray shirts that she had taken with her when she left. Pulling her hair up, she came back into the living room and picked up the laundry basket.

Once the first load had been started, she picked up her phone and opened her music streaming app and selected a mellow music station, not wanting anything too upbeat or peppy as it did not fit her current mood.

Boxes were moved and placed in the corresponding rooms. She unpacked the dishes, filling the dishwasher to run through a cycle.

Getting her small toolbox from the hall closet, she went into the bedroom to begin putting together the furniture, starting with the nightstands.

Sitting down on the floor, unbidden tears filled her eyes as she remembered buying similar items with Mulder when they had worked to fill the empty house. How they had yelled when tempers were short, but laughed it off later. They would eat dinner on the porch steps, the wind cooling them off and restoring their spirits.

It had been chaotic and stressful at times, but they had a home. A place to call their own where they could put down roots and not have the worry of always watching their backs.

But even a home, their place of security, could not keep out the darkness of the past. It had swallowed them slowly, him more than her, and now…

She shook her head and wiped her eyes, breathing brokenly through her nose as she attempted to stop crying.

“Stop,” she admonished herself. “Stop. You made the right decision. You did. It just… it hurts so fucking much.” Covering her face with her hands, she stopped trying to fight the tears and her shoulders shook with sobs.

When she was able to slow her tears, she got up to blow her nose in the bathroom and then rinsed her face. Drying off with a towel, she let out a deep sigh and closed her eyes.

“Come on,” she whispered and nodded her head. “Get this done.”

Checking the laundry, she transferred it to the dryer and then started the next load. Back in the bedroom, she finished the first nightstand and had the second one put together even quicker.

The bed frame was next and as she cleared away the mess from the nightstand boxes, she sighed, knowing this task would take longer. As she opened the box and started to lay out the many pieces, a song began to play on her phone. A soft guitar and piano melody that immediately drew her attention, though she did not know why as it was not something she recognized.

I still remember the look on your face Lit through the darkness at 1:58 The words that you whispered for just us to know You told me you loved me So why did you go away?

Away

“Oh,” she breathed, her eyes closing as the words hit her and caused her heart to ache.

I do recall now the smell of the rain Fresh on the pavement, I ran off the plane That July ninth, the beat of your heart It jumps through your shirt I can still feel your arms

But now I'll go Sit on the floor wearing your clothes All that I know is I don't know How to be something you miss

Her eyes flew open as she looked down at Mulder’s shirt, clutching it in her hands as tears filled her eyes again.

I never thought we'd have a last kiss Never imagined we'd end like this Your name, forever the name on my lips

Staring straight ahead, she let out a deep breath, her grip on his shirt not slackening.

I do remember the swing of your step The life of the party, you're showing off again And I'd roll my eyes and then you'd pull me in I'm not much for dancing, but for you, I did

Because I love your handshake, meeting my father I love how you walk with your hands in your pockets How you'd kiss me when I was in the middle of sayin’ something There's not a day I don't miss those rude interruptions

She cried bitterly as she remembered dancing with him in so many random places, his hand pulling her close as he hummed an unknown tune, not caring who saw them.

And the times he would stop her with a kiss when she was attempting to dissuade his crazy theories or when they argued about who was supposed to have taken out the trash that day or any other trivial thing that did not need to escalate to an argument.

And I'll go Sit on the floor wearing your clothes All that I know is I don't know How to be something you miss I never thought we'd have a last kiss Never imagined we'd end like this Your name, forever the name on my lips

“Oh, Mulder,” she cried, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them as she bent her head and cried.

So I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe And I'll keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are Hope it's nice where you are

And I hope the sun shines and it's a beautiful day And something reminds you you wish you had stayed You can plan for a change in the weather and time But I never planned on you changing your mind

She raised her head and sniffled, the guilt over leaving him nearly crushing her. She wiped her eyes, wondering how he was doing all alone in their empty house.

So I'll go Sit on the floor wearing your clothes All that I know is I don't know How to be something you miss I never thought we'd have a last kiss Never imagined we'd end like this Your name, forever the name on my lips Just like our last kiss

Forever the name on my lips Forever the name on my lips Just like our last

A pause of silence and then a new song began to play, completely unaware that she had been left feeling gutted by the previous simple, but poignant lyrics. She stared without seeing, her mind recalling too many memories.

Go home. Go back. Leave this apartment and everything within it, she thought. Just go. You’d be there in thirty minutes. Twenty if you drove really fast.

“I can’t,” she whispered.

Yeah, you can.

“I can’t,” she said more forcefully, angrily wiping away her tears. “This is what we needed. This is… right. It’s… right.”

But is it?

“Yes,” she nodded, her resolve stronger as she sniffled again and let out a long breath. “We were breaking. One of us had to…”

But aren’t you broken now?

“Shut up. Just stop,” she said as she started to cry again, her face back in her arms.

Quieting a few minutes later, she lifted her head and slowly stood to her feet, her limbs tingling.

She blew her nose and rinsed her face again. Staring at herself in the bathroom mirror as she dried her face, she nodded and went back into the bedroom, determination pushing her to finish her tasks.

When the bedroom furniture had been completed, the mattress added and the bed made, she stepped into the shower and washed away the tears and sweat she had shed over the past few hours.

Dressed in pajama pants and another one of Mulder’s shirts, her hair wrapped up in a towel, she turned on the kettle to make some tea. Staring at her phone as she waited for the water to warm, she debated whether or not to call and check up on him.

They had not spoken since she left, his anger and hurt combined with her stubbornness and her own hurting had left them out of contact.

But tonight…

She really wanted to hear his voice. To know he was alright.

To know if he even missed her.

She unlocked her phone and dialed his number before she could think and talk herself out of it. Her heart raced as it began to ring and she let out a silent breath.

One. Two. Three. Four.

This is Fox Mulder. Leave a message. I won’t promise that I’ll call you back, but… you can still leave it.

Mulder, you can’t—

Beeeeeep.

She froze, silently sitting there as she remembered the day two years ago when he had recorded his outgoing message. She had interrupted with a laugh just before he had stopped recording it. Playing it back, he had grinned and declared it to be perfect.

“No one ever calls me, except you,” he had said as she protested, telling him to record it again. “If anyone does, then perhaps it will give them a chuckle to hear two people bickering like an old married couple.”

“Except for the fact that we’re not married,” she had pointed out.

“A fact which they will not be aware of unless it’s someone from our past. And if it is, well…” He had shrugged as he stood up from the table, putting his phone in his pocket.

“Well, what?” she had asked, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows.

“It will seem like old times,” he had finished, grinning as he walked over and wrapped his arms around her. “Mulder and Scully arguing over something once again, even though he’s right ninety nine percent of the time.”

“Ninety nine percent? Not a hundred?” she had asked, smiling as she uncrossed her arms, placed her hands on his chest and looked up at him.

“Yeah. A hundred percent seems too high, ergo…”

“So that last tenth of a point changes everything?”

“Absolutely,” he had said and she had laughed when he kissed her, swaying them slowly.

How many times had she heard that recording, rolling her eyes as she called to tell him she was going to the store or that she needed to stop on the way home and pick up her dry cleaning? It had always made her laugh, but now it felt like a knife through her heart.

How could she have forgotten about it?

Hearing herself there when they were happy was a pain she had not anticipated enduring when she decided to call.

Realizing the message was recording and she had been silent for the duration, she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She sat breathing and trying to figure out what she wanted to say, but there was nothing.

With a soft gasp, she ended the call and covered her face with her hands.

The water in the kettle began to boil and she switched it off, no longer wanting any tea. Turning off the lights and double checking the door was locked, she went into the bathroom.

The lyrics of the song she had heard kept rattling around in her head as she brushed her teeth and then picked up the hair dryer.

I never thought we'd have a last kiss Never imagined we'd end like this

End.

God.

Turning off the hair dryer and putting it down, she left the bathroom with her hair partially dry, suddenly feeling exhausted.

The covers pulled back, she got into bed and turned off the light. Her phone buzzed and she groaned when she saw it light up across the room.

She got up and picked it up, assuming it would be someone from work with a question that needed an immediate response.

Mulder

Missed call

New voicemail

“He…” she breathed as she stared at his name, her finger hovering over the notification, never having heard the phone ringing.

Tapping the screen, the voicemail opened and she stared at it before pushing play and holding it to her ear.

It was nothing at first, but then she heard the creak that was undeniably the screen door opening and then closing. There was a loud sigh as she heard him sitting in his chair on the porch and then it was quiet again.

But she listened, closing her eyes to imagine herself there with him. He would suggest admiring the beauty of nature and she would say it was too cold to be out at night. But after he had gone out, she would have joined him, putting on a coat as she stepped out and handed him his own. They would look at the stars and he would quiz her on the constellations, trying to see who knew more of them by name.

“No crickets,” he said, breaking the silence and her eyes flew open. “It always feels better outside when there’s crickets.”

“Not in winter,” she whispered.

“But it’s winter so…” he said at the same moment and she smiled, even as she felt like weeping.

Quiet again, she heard him get up and the screen creaked open and closed, the door then closing as well.

The television turned on and she pictured him sitting on the couch, the remote held in his hand.

We now return to our sci-fi marathon. Up next is Plan Nine from Outer Space followed later by The Man from Planet X.

“Huh. Might as well make my viewing number an even sixty,” he said and she heard the beginning of a movie she had seen at least ten times begin to play.

And then the message stopped.

Hurriedly leaving the bedroom, she turned on the television and flipped through the channels until she found the movie. Letting out a long sigh, she picked up the blanket from the back of the couch and covered herself as she laid down.

She closed her eyes and imagined she was at home, lying with her head against Mulder’s leg as he recited the movie word for word, his fingers running through her hair. When he changed pitch to do different voices, she would chuckle softly and his fingers would scratch her scalp gently in reply.

“God,” she breathed, shaking her head as she pulled the blanket even tighter around her.

You called. He called back. It’s a step…

“Yeah,” she whispered.

He knows you. He knows you understood what he didn’t say. Why he kept the line open for you to hear.

“Yeah,” she whispered again. Opening her eyes, she stared at the television and laughed out a sob. “Hearing voices. Talking to myself. What have I become?”

Hmmm…

“Yeah,” she said once more as she closed her eyes and exhaled, thinking of Mulder watching the movie at that exact same moment.

The familiar words of the dialogue and the knowledge that a small step had been taken between them, allowed her to relax for the first time in weeks.

It’s not an end, she thought, remembering again the lyrics of the song. It’s a… pause. Just a pause.

And that night, for the first time in weeks, she felt a sense of hope buried beneath the recent pain and heartache.

[whyy77772]

#RadioStatic2024

#RadioStaicWeek

Day 3!!!

Today’s prompt was dancing!! The last two prompts I made it ambiguous to if Al liked Vox the same way but this one is definitely mutual, sorry :P . Anyway, I kinda messed up with proportions in the drawing but it’s whatev. I’m very late bc writing dancing is hard and I didn’t have inspiration till 11pm this time. Anyways, here’s the fic, but also I pasted it

Chapter 3

Dancing

Vox made his way through a small door into a jazz club on the south side of hell. He could hear the sound of live music and various sinners laughing and talking from the sidewalk. The room was crowded, some sinners at the bar, some dancing and watching, and some playing the music, various instruments touched their lips and were played. Vox was invited out by a coworker, who went by the name Jose. It was the mid 1970’s at that point, the jazz scene was dying, but there were still various popular spots all around hell. Vox waited around by the front door waiting for Jose, but eventually growing impatient, he walked over to the bar and ordered a neat straight gin, bored and ready to leave any minute.

“Hey, are you Jose’s friend?” The bartender asked. Vox cringed at the word friend, but responded with a quick yes. He was then informed that this coworker had ‘emergency business’ to attend to. Great. Now Vox was stranded in a random club on a side of hell he had no business being in and an empty gap in his schedule. The free time was fine, he thought, but he was ready to actually build trust with someone tonight for whatever plans he had for José. Whatever, people watching and drinking was a fine night, he thought to himself. Plus, maybe he’d be able to find an opportunity for a deal. Vox sipped his drink, looking around the bar. Suddenly, a familiar face walked in. Red coat, red hair, at a jazz club? Yeah, that’s definitely Alastor. He walked in, waving several sinners who recognized him. ‘Guess he’s a regular here’ Vox thought, watching as he took another sip from his glass. Vox stared at him, eventually Alastor noticed him. Vox waved, and Alastor walked over to the television

“Why, hello there Vox, what a surprise seeing you here, my good friend! What happened to make you end up here?” Alastor stood in front of him, looking down at Vox, who had put down the glass to talk.

Vox leaned on the bar, arms out resting “Got ditched by a co worker, figured I might stay a while.”

“Ah, yes. The club is rather nice, isn’t it? I frequent this joint often, best in town, you know. Mind if I join you?” Alastor asked, looking at the seat next to Vox.

“Sure” Vox scooched over a bit, gesturing towards the empty stool beside him. Alastor ordered bourbon. The bartender slid the drink to him as he talked to Vox

Three drinks in and a lot of boring small talk later, Alastor asked a question. “Have you ever been to a Jazz club? I take it you haven’t, but there’s no harm in asking!”

Vox taped his claw on the callous on his thumb, an idle habit he picked up. “No, that wasn’t really my scene when I was alive.”

“I take it you can’t dance then? Alastor gave a little chuckle, the alcohol loosening himself up a bit

“Oh sure I can, I was an excellent dancer, I just never used my skills outside of lessons and with partners listening to records.” Vox rolled his eyes. Him? A bad dancer? It was funny thinking about

“Hm, for some reason I don’t trust you. Why don’t you show me what you got?” Alastor smiled (more so than his default one), finishing the last of his drink before standing up and holding a hand out to Vox.

Vox could feel his face burning, unsure if it was from the alcohol in his blood (?), or the fact he was about to dance with Alastor, but that was not his problem. He put on a confident smirk, downing his drink, standing up, and grabbing a hold of Alastors hand. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised, deer man”

Alastor led Vox onto the dance floor, the previous song ending, a small break happened before the band started playing again, a slow start. The crowd formed a circle. A pair of sinners making their way out into the middle, then a single, then two beside each other. Eventually, they got out into the circle. Alastor led, moving to the beat, leading Vox. Normally Vox would hate following, but for some reason, whether that be the alcohol or himself, he enjoyed following for once. Alastor upped the complexity of the moves after testing the waters, seeing how advanced Vox was. Vox was able to match his pace, even with the gin messing with his groove a bit. A minute passed, and they finally walked off out to watch others. The energy in the club was certainly an experience. Vox smiled hard, cheering on the other sinners in the circle. He was breathing hard, the quick dance, the alcohol, and the cheering giving him a big adrenaline boost. After an hour of taking turns on the dance floor, their dance ended with Vox in a dip, and the song ending. Vox’s smile was wide, chest heaving, staring into Alastors eyes. Had his eyes always been this beautiful? Voxes face was warm, and telling by the tint in Alastors cheeks, he was too. Probably not for the same reason though. Vox relished in the few seconds he was in Alastors arms as the crowd cheered, before he got pulled back up, and was lead out of the crowd by Alastor.

Alastor breathed heavily, the energy of the night certainly catching up to him. He looked at Vox before asking “Why, wasn’t that fun! Are you all done? You seem to be exhausted.” He smiled, taking note on how it weirdly didn’t feel forced.

“Pfft, I could go all night. But yeah, I think it’s time to stop dancing for now.” Vox smiled smugly, walking back over to the bar, finding two empty seats. He leaned back on the bar, asking the bartender for two gins.

“Hey, hope you’re ok with gin. I’m keen on keeping them both to myself though” Vox smiled as Alastor sat down, still sitting with perfect posture.

Vox pulled at his turtle neck. He had lost his jacket forever ago, but he was still burned hot with sweat.

“Ah, a gin if fine, my dear.” Alastor studied Voxes face, noticing the dark blue that danced over his already dark blue face at the name.

The bartender slid the drinks over. Vox gave one to Alastor. And took a sip of the other before placing it down. “I don’t know how you’re still in that coat, I’m dying here.” Vox said, out of breath, slipping off his turtle neck to reveal a plane white long sleeve shirt. Alastor watched as he rolled up his sleeves, waved some air at himself, and took another sip of his drink. Alastor didn’t know how long he stared for, all he knew was that Vox was looking really confused now.

“What are you looking at?” Vox raised a 2d eyebrow.

“You know, you weren’t half as bad as I thought you were gonna be.” Alastor smiled. “Still not as good as me though.”

“Hell yeah I was! You weren’t so bad yourself. That was fun, despite you treating me like a dame, having to follow. But, hey, a change of pace is always fun.” Vox tapped at his glass with his pointer claw.

Alastor blushed slightly, realizing he really did put Vox in the position most woman took. “Well, you were good at it.” Alastor chuckled, mocking Vox. Although, it wasn’t really mocking. He did actually believe Vox did a good job. Teased? He didn’t know.

Vox smiled, staring at Alastor. After this night, he saw him in a new light. Or, maybe in a way he always did, but a way he never admitted until now. Vox washed away his thoughts with a swig of his drink, finishing it. They enjoyed a peaceful silence, the chatter and sound of the music seeming to disappear in the embrace of Alastors attention. Before he knew it, Vox’s face had flushed completely, a stupid grin on his face. He ordered another drink. This night was perfect. Thank god Jose didn’t show up.

Yay :]