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whatsnewalycat · 4 months ago

Text

No Strings Attached

Dieter Bravo x OFC Louella - Psychomanteum AU

[ psychomanteum masterlist ][ ao3 ]

WC: 2.7k+

Tags/Warnings: lua 2nd person pov, ghosts, psychomanteum au where they were together in spring, set after chapter 2, bickering, alcohol, drugs, addiction, ethan, anonymous sex mention, a boat load of sweeet sweet yearning folks

Notes: This is a doc I just found in my Psychomanteum folder. I think this is what I was originally writing for Chapter 3, but changed direction. Some of these conversations and prose proooobably got recycled into different chapters, but I can't remember. ANYWAY it's cute so I'm posting it as a Psychomanteum AU Snackie Poo (i'msosorryforsayingthatohmygod)

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Since Katie’s party, the two of you have hung out a handful of times, mostly with Parker, going out to a bar and having a few drinks. Between whatever actor things actors do while they’re in the city, he’ll sometimes text you to see what you’re doing, and what you’re usually doing is baking.

It surprises you a little every time he comes over. Why would an exciting guy like this want to hang out in your apartment while you work? Not that you mind. The company is nice. Most of the time he’ll chat with you while he sketches and happily disposes of any defective product. Sometimes it goes quiet while the two of you concentrate on your respective tasks, but it doesn’t feel awkward.

This is the modus operandi when Dieter slides his pencil it into the spine of his sketchbook and studies you, “Do you believe in ghosts?”

Out of breath from rolling out puff pastry dough, you look at him and pant, “What?”

“Ghosts,” he leans against the counter, pressing his thumbnails to his lips as he waits for your answer.

You huff, setting your rolling pin down, and remember the picture frame on the spare bedroom floor. The face you imagined you saw in the mirror. Sometimes you hear noises in that room, but can’t bring yourself to investigate. The only time you enter the room is to get supplies, and even then, you speed run and don’t dare look up at the mirrors.

“No,” you avert your gaze from his and turn around to wash your hands in the sink.

“Wow, you’re a terrible liar.”

You turn around and gape at him as you dry your hands, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So you do believe in ghosts, got it,” he gives you a cheeky grin. You roll your eyes but don’t deny it. He leans forward onto his elbows again, “If I tell you something, will you think I’m crazy?”

“Dee, I texted you yesterday and asked if you think that Avril Lavigne is really herself or a body double. I don’t think I’m qualified to make any judgments on the sanity of other humans,” you toss the kitchen towel over your shoulder, then start folding the dough into layers.

He tilts his head and frowns, then points at you, “I think you might be onto something there,” then shakes his head, “Ok, well…”

His Adam’s apple bobs and his eyes flick to the spare bedroom door. You stop folding the pastry dough and stand up straight. A shiver runs down your spine. He gnashes his jaw back and forth, then takes a deep breath, “I see him sometimes.”

You shake your head and search his eyes. Not out of confusion. You just don’t want him to say it.

He slides his sketchbook across the counter, flipping it around so you can see what he drew. There, sketched in graphite on the creamy paper, is your husband. He’s standing in the open doorway of the spare room. The illustration is unruly, yet intricate. Your mouth falls open as you press your fingertips to his face, and you feel his sorrow. So much so, you flinch back and shake your head again, “Sorry, um, I–”

Dieter watches your eyes start to well with tears and his shoulders slump, “Fuck, no, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Is he still there now?” you whisper, meeting his big, sad, brown eyes.

They flick to the door and back to you, and he gives you a nod. Your stomach drops to the floor and the hair on the back of your neck stands up.

“I need to leave,” you announce, throwing the kitchen towel off your shoulder onto the counter, then take off your apron and drop it on the towel, “Right now. I have to leave.”

He stands up off the stool, pushing it out behind him, pointing to the puff pastry, “Should–I, uh, should I wrap that up?”

“Um, y-yeah, put it in the fridge, thanks,” you walk around the counter and past him to grab your purse, shove your feet into your boots, then walk out the door and wait for him in the hall.

He emerges while putting on his jacket, then you lock the door and start toward the elevator. The hall is silent except for the rustling of their clothes and footfalls. You slap the down button on the elevator and cross your arms.

“He was trying to talk to you,” Dieter explains.

You shake your head, “I don’t care.”

“You don’t care?” he challenges.

“Mhmm,” you nod, hitting the button again, harder this time.

“Terrible liar,” he mutters to himself, then stares forward at the elevator doors. And he probably thinks he’s being funny. But it’s not funny. You don’t react.

Once the elevator dings, you’re inside, pressing the doors closed button before they even open all the way. He steps onboard. They accordion shut.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out,” he tells you earnestly. In the foggy reflection of the stainless steel doors, you can tell that he’s looking at you.

“Well, you fucking did,” you snap, and wish you could take the words and shove them back into your mouth. He faces forward and his gaze drops to his feet.

The doors open and Dieter pushes out in front of you, storming out of the building. By the time you make it outside, he’s gone. A pang of guilt stabs through your chest. The cool, dewy air sticks to your skin and makes you shiver. You regret not grabbing a jacket, but start off towards your favorite hole-in-the-wall bar anyway.

O’Malley’s is a dingy dugout bar about a block away from your apartment. It’s so dimly lit in contrast to the bright afternoon sun, you have to squint and go off of muscle memory when you walk in the door. On a Tuesday, during daylight hours, when the temperature outside is finally warm enough to melt the gritty snowpiles that have been accumulating for months, the establishment is essentially empty. One sad sap sits at the bar, jacket hanging off the back of his stool, staring down at the lowball glass clutched in his fist. He’s leaning onto the bar with a ringed hand propping his head up.

You approach and pull out the barstool next to him, droning, “Hey there.”

Dieter casts a glance to you with a raised brow, then scoffs when he recognizes you. He lifts the glass to his lips and empties it into his mouth, then pushes his sweater sleeves up to his elbows.

Nick, the portly bartender you see here frequently during the week, approaches, “The usual?”

“Yeah,” you nod towards Dieter, “I’ll get his, too.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he sits back and pulls a wallet from his pocket, then throws some bills on the bar top, “I was just leaving.”

Fucking hell.

“Dee–” you reach out and touch his arm, and he turns towards you and stares expectantly. You chew on your bottom lip, dropping your gaze to the floor before sighing, “Please stay. I’m-“

Nick returns with a whiskey neat and vodka cranberry, sliding them in front of you and Dieter before asking you, “Tab?”

“Yes please,” you answer with a polite smile, then turn back to Dieter, whose scowl has softened, “C’mon.”

He sighs and his shoulders release, then he relaxes back into the barstool. Neither of you say anything as you take a sip of the drink, then you turn to him, “I know. Like, um. I know that he’s there sometimes. But I don’t—“ you shake your head, “I don’t want to know.”

He sits up and leans his elbows against the bar, turning to watch you. You chew on your bottom lip and watch the ice cubes clink together as you stir your drink.

“What was he trying to tell me?” you ask finally.

“I don’t know,” Dieter frowns, “I couldn’t tell.”

You saw Ethan cross into the threshold. Through some kind of an otherworldly osmosis, he was absorbed by the membrane that met the two of you at the end of the silent, iridescent wormhole.

“Why would he come back?” you whisper, mostly to yourself.

“Why do any spirits come back?” Dieter shrugs and takes a big sip of whiskey, “Unfinished business.”

All you can think is that it better be a fucking apology. He owes you that much. Ethan was so fucked up that night. Did he even know what he was doing? Or had he been planning it?

The man that woke you up in the middle of the night on Christmas and made you get into his car with the intention of totaling it… that wasn’t the man you married. You wonder how much coke he had really been doing in the weeks, maybe even months, leading up to the accident. Towards the end, it became commonplace for him to be out all night without explanation.

He would stumble in at 7am, talking a million miles a minute, a sharp sniff interrupting his monologue every 10 seconds, hands trembling like your grandma’s when she started showing symptoms of Parkinson’s disease. When he finally crashed, he’d go to bed and sleep until the sun went down, where he would isolate himself for a day or two. Then he would go out to run orders to your clients and not come back until 7am. Rinse, wash, repeat.

One night, when big, fat snowflakes were fluttering to the ground outside in big, he was standing in front of all the order boxes ready to go, making sure he had everything. You came up behind him and wrapped your arms around to his chest, laying your cheek against the back of his winter coat, “Can you come home tonight? I miss you.”

“Baby, I’m with you all the time,” he chuckled, placing a hand over yours, rubbing his thumb against you affectionately.

“That’s not what I mean,” you told him quietly. His thumb stopped undulating and his body tensed. Your heart was pounding in your chest when you finally admitted out loud, “I’m worried about you, Ethan. I think it’s becoming a problem again.”

You let go as he stirred beneath your embrace, turning around to face you. His body only became more rigid, shoulders tensed up to his ears, jaw gnashing, as he assured you, “It’s not a problem. I promise. I’ll come home after dropping these off, ok?”

He pressed his lips your forehead, sealing his promise with a kiss, and you mumbled, “Ok.”

He didn’t come home until the next morning. You weren’t surprised.

“You ok?” Dieter nudges you.

A lie waits, ready to roll off the tip of your tongue. Instead, what comes out is the truth.

“No. I don’t think so,” you take a sip and look down at your drink, “But, what can ya do?”

“Mmm, I think I have something that could help,” Dieter mutters in a suggestive tone. Your heart skips, then you look at him and realize he’s pressing a joint up between his lips, “Wanna go for a walk?”

This brings a smile to your face, but you protest, “I didn’t bring a coat, it’s still chilly outside.”

The joint bobs as he frowns and grabs his jacket, “Use mine. I’m fucking sweating, anyway.”

—

The passersby barely pay the two of you any attention as you stroll at a leisurely pace through the park, passing the joint back and forth. His sepia fleece jacket hangs down to your knees and keeps you almost too insulated.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, tasting the vapors of melting snow clinging close to the earth. The sunshine seems to melt away the foul mood you were in earlier. In your euphoria, you trip on a crack in the pavement, stumbling a bit. You steady yourself and giggle in embarrassment.

“So glad you don’t have anyone following you with a camera right now,” you comment.

Dieter plucks the roach from his lips, holds the intoxicating smoke captive in his lungs, and offers it up to you, “How do you know we don’t?”

You scrunch your face up and make a full 360, scanning for any potential paparazzi, and shoo the roach away. He exhales and shrugs, then tosses it into a disintegrating snow pile, “I’m just kidding, I think I’m off their radar for the time being.”

“Yeah? Have you been a good boy, Dee?” you giggle. The way his whole body seems to perk up at the question is not lost on you.

“Not so much that as I’m not the biggest shitheel in the media at the moment,” he smirks, looking you up and down through his sunglasses.

You hum and nod, although you have no idea what he’s referring to, “Ah, yes. That one guy did that one thing.”

He laughs, “There’s always another guy doing another thing. It never fails.”

“Ol’ reliable,” you respond, then tilt your head in curiosity, “How is your divorce going, then?”

“Boring, next,” he groans.

“No no no, sir, you told me my dead husband is haunting my home today. Even the scales.”

“Are you sure you’re not the press?” he raises an eyebrow at you.

And, of course, it’s a joke. But that side glance gnaws at your gut the same way that Ethan’s narrowed eyes did. Looking at you like you’re an informant.

‘I didn’t tell anyone about the ink, Lou.’

“What?” your shoulders slump. You come to a standstill, and stammer, “I wouldn’t–no, what?”

He stops, too, and turns to you, “I’m just kidding, Lua.”

“Oh,” you breathe a sigh of relief, “Ok. I’m not, um, trying to be snoopy.”

“You are way prettier than a cartoon beagle,” he smiles, then starts walking again. You catch up to him and try not to let the way your stomach flutters show on your face. It does. He smiles wider, then it fades to a frown as he shrugs and scratches his neck, “The divorce is going. Annie is staying at the house until it’s finalized, so I’ve been living out of hotels, which gets old,” a sly smile creeps across his face, “It is a little easier on the dating front, though. Living in hotels, that is.”

“Why’s that?”

“Sex is just better in a bed. A little more room to work with than the bathroom of a club or the backseat of a car, you know? Plus, then they don’t feel like they have to leave right away.”

“That’s probably why I prefer those places. Don’t have to stick around afterwards.”

He grins at you, “Is that right?”

Something sparks at the middle of you when you look over at him and shrug, then he licks his lips and nods, looking ahead.

“So you’re dating people?”

“I don’t think dating is the right term,” you frown, “More just, um… casual sex, I guess.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, “Since when?”

“Does it matter?” you tuck your hair behind your ear and look down.

“No, not at all,” he nudges you, so you look at him and see the good will on his face. “I just… Well, I’ll really kick myself if I could have been begging you to sleep with me this whole time.”

Your mouth is all of a sudden very dry. You blush and chuckle, then shake your head, “I’m looking for no-strings-attached situations.”

“I am all about no-strings-attached,” he touches his fingertips to his chest and grins, peaking his bloodshot eyes over the rim of his sunglasses.

“Mmm, no, see, we have strings,” you sigh, then count each of the following points on your hands, “I don’t fuck clients. Or friends. Or celebrities going through very public divorces.”

Or people I have a big, giant, throbbing crush on.

“My heart,” he clutches the front of his shirt theatrically.

You giggle at his reaction. The conversation dies momentarily, and the sounds of the city fill the cool air between you. You feel compelled to elaborate, “I’m not ready. With the dead husband and all that. I don’t want a pity fuck, or a goddamn significant other. I just want to get off, then I want it to be over. No strings.”

He nods, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his pants, “No judgment here, m’dear.”

#psychomanteum #psychomanteum au #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic

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o-sachi · 4 months ago

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Sk8er Boi - Drabble (Request)

ᯓ confessions? whuzzat? clearly, neither of you know what that is ᯓ character; shidou ryusei (blue lock) ᯓ tags; mutual pining, angsty?, shidou is a menace, afab reader, no y/n, sfw, based on Avril Lavigne's song Sk8r Boi

[🐟]: Idk what I did with this tbh.

He was a boy She was a girl Can I make it anymore obvious?

Shidou Ryusei. The pink-haired lunatic. The freak.

People knew him by several names and people knew him through several reasons... most of which aren't good. Your friends, your family, everyone who knew that you knew him—would all say the same thing. Don't get yourself involved with that guy.

But you could never ever find it in yourself to not get involved with Shidou Ryusei. You were like a feeble and naive moth prancing around his raging flame. You teetered on the precipice between bravery and downright stupidity. Not that it mattered to you. Truth be told, you thought Shidou Ryusei was a nice guy.

You had your reasons, of course.

He was a punk She did ballet What more can I say?

No, you didn't do ballet. Hell, you can't really dance. But Shidou? He was a full-blown punk—through and through. His personality, the way he dresses, the people he surrounds himself with—there's no denying it. If you extracted his blood and got it tested, it would come back with the results of 70% Monster energy drinks and 30% cigarette butts.

Though he wasn't a low-level punk. In his bad crowd, he was hailed as their king. Perhaps this was a testament to his wickedness. But for you, it made him feel like a legend—a myth untouched that you could only dream of coming close to. There was a word for this... romanticizing? Delusion? Kids these days have a term for everything lately.

It remains a mystery why someone like you would vie for someone like him. Maybe after living such a mundane and "proper" life—you were looking for a bit of thrill in your life. Maybe you just made terrible decisions.

But nothing's bad when it comes to love, right?

He wanted her She'd never tell Secretly she wanted him as well

Rowdy as he is—Shidou loved pretty things. He loved acquiring them—making them his and only his. It just so happens you were one of those pretty things he had the greatest pleasure of laying his eyes on.

And Shidou Ryusei hated two things. One, children when they start infesting the local skate park which he lovingly calls his "second home." And two, when the pretty little thing that he likes is being threatened.

When he saw your face contort in fear being surrounded by a bunch of other punks—that all too familiar itch to go punch something flared up within him. It happened way too fast. Even though your eyes darted from side-to-side, trying to make sense of what was happening—Shidou was simply too quick.

Too quick at jumping into action and too quick to fall in love.

Well, he called it love. But it was more of a deep and carnal infatuation. But never mind that—all he knew was that he wanted you. This was his way of showing you exactly that.

His ego inflated for every second your eyes remained fixated over his triumphant form. He stood above the defeated men who were just threatening you a few minutes ago. Shidou was your savior and it was only right for you to show him your gratitude now.

And like a play, the roles were filled. Others might say you were too eager.

"Thank you... for saving me," you managed to stutter it out. Your hands shook, probably from the surge of adrenaline.

He smirked. It was one of the three facial expressions he had after all. But everything was going according to his plan—a plan that consisted of a mere 2 steps: to save you then to make you his.

Simple, but reaching. Although, for Shidou Ryusei, he believed everything was possible with his own two hands.

He held out his calloused hand for you to take, pulling you up back to your feet. "It was nothing. Just glad I could help a damsel in distress."

"I... I don't know how I can repay you..."

He brought those same calloused hands to your face, heat radiating off of his dirtied palms. His thumbs pressed the corners of your lips, forcibly (but gently) pushing it into a smile—the same smile he fell in love at first sight with.

"That's about right. Just wanna see you smile again."

In that moment you had no words because there wasn't a single string of words that could contain what you felt. Perhaps you two had a thing in common after all—you were both too quick to fall in love.

He was a skater boy She said, "See you later, boy" He wasn't good enough for her

The first people to notice your budding romance was actually Shidou's friends. Quite ironic, by the way, that his friends intimidated you but not Shidou—not the man who was supposedly scarier than all of them combined. But maybe there was an explanation behind it.

The simple fact was that—his friends did not like you.

Sure, you were pretty, sweet, and the kind of girl a guy could take home to his mother. But that was exactly it. You were too good and it was slowly and surely changing their leader.

All of a sudden, Shidou's time was divided between their usual activities and courting you—whether that meant "accidentally" bumping into you at random places and being present whenever you needed some assistance.

"You see, she's a no go. Like c'mon, man. What are you gonna do once her parents find out about you? Think they're gonna open their doors for you? Tough luck, man."

Shidou sat back and hoisted up his feet on the table. "Don't need her parents to like me. If she likes me then that's all that matters."

His friends looked at each other, knowing what everyone else was thinking at the moment. "Well, do you even know if she likes you?"

...

"I'll worry about that when I have to," he shrugs.

That was the end of the discussion. As much as they disliked your presence in their lives, they knew better than to question his fondness for you. Shidou has fought for you before and he's not afraid to do it again... and again... and again—for as long as he had to.

But what if you didn't like him back? What then? Would there even be a fight for him to engage in? There wouldn't.

It's been a while since he felt this way—the feeling that gripped his heart and wrung it dry. The feeling that made him want to slam his fists into a wall until his knuckles were down to the bone.

It was the feeling of fear.

She had a pretty face But her head was up in space She needed to come back down to Earth

You were no better, of course. In many ways, it was like the two of you were made for each other. That is, if we were talking about how both of you became crippled with fear at the thought of rejection.

Fate worked in funny ways and its humor was evident with how your heart desperately chased for the man you couldn't have.

When you were with him, you were on cloud 9. But you never had a chance of staying up there too long. There were people that pulled you down from your fantasy land as soon as they saw the changes in you.

Shidou was careful enough at least to catch you at times when others wouldn't have to see you. But you've been with him too much that he was starting to rub off on you.

And it showed. The people around you knew because you wore your heart on your sleeve.

Then the same words echoed in your mind: Do not get involved with Shidou Ryusei no matter what.

Don't.

Just don't.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #shidou x reader #shidou ryusei #blue lock shidou

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bbym0on · 1 month ago

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What I feel the Batfamiliy’s music tastes are

Bruce- has a fondness for classical music from his father, but while working he needs something with a little more bass. I think he would be really into Symphonic heavy metal, like Yngvie Malmstein, or even stuff more melodic like Iron Maiden.

Dick-Really into ‘70s boogie, funk, and disco. Music that just gets the energy up and is fun. Favorites would be: K.c and the sunshine band, Wild cherry, the Commodores, and the BeeGees.

Jason-He has a preference for ‘80s hard rock, driving guitars, heavy bass, and kicking drums. But his favorite band is Three days Grace ‘cause he related to the lyrics so much. Some of his favorite bands would be: Dio, Ac/Dc, Scorpions, and Def Leppard.

Tim-He listens to the most obnoxious Edm, techno, and Eurobeat you’ve ever heard in your life, not so much because he likes the music, but because the volume and bpm keep him awake. (I don’t know any Edm, or Techno bands)

Steph-Is really into early 2000s pop punk, like green day, Fall Out Boy, Avril Lavigne. In middle school wanted to dye their hair black and join a band, but her dad wouldn’t allow it.

Cass-Ballet and orchestra music is the only thing she chooses to listen too, but doesn’t mind anybody else’s music as long as she gets to be around that person. (She really dislikes synth pop though)

Damien-I think that while he was raised by the league to be a killing weapon, Ra’s is such a huge lover of the arts that he would sneak Damien away from Talia and have him listen to Traditional music from around the world. Outside of that, and though he will deny it, he likes Dick’s music.

Alfred-Everyone thinks he only listens to Classical music, but is a big fan of the ‘60s British invasion bands like: the beatles, the who, the Rolling Stones, and very early Deep Purple.

Duke-shares his mother’s tastes in music, loving ‘90s R&B like Destinies child, TLC, and boys 2 men.

Harper-Into classic “real punk music” (their words to Steph) with rebellious tones, and Hardcore political statements, bands like the Sex Pistols, and the ramones. For modern bands they like Rise Against and Muse.

Selina-Their guilty pleasure music is ‘80s pop like Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, and Paula Abdul. But her favorite band is No Doubt, and likes Gwen Stefani’s early music.

I’ll probably make a part-2 for the rest of the Family, but here are the core Family (to me at least)

#batfam #batfamily #dc universe #batman #dcau #red hood #nightwing #dc robin #Jasonwouldblarenicklebackloudlytoannoybruce

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severalowls · 3 days ago

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Look I'm extremely pro-luigi but some of the posts about how he's "the wrong guy" are fully nuts conspiracy shit.

"It was a different jacket" yes, the surveillance picture where you can see his face is from the night before, when he checked in to a hotel. Having a backup jacket and backpack to ditch (which he did, in central park) is like the most basic thing you can do to evade identification.

"He looks different" People look different from different angles and especially different lenses. This is basic shit yet its still the basis for shit like "Avril Lavigne was replaced by a lookalike" stuff

"He said police planted evidence" yes, but please don't just read headlines. The planted evidence was 1. Large amounts of cash, which would potentially increase the severity of the crime 2. A 'sophisticated' backpack, which is just completely nonsense it was probably just expensive. They're using both of these things to inflate a case of him being some kind of professional assassin or danger to society. This is the part that he is denying. Because it's bullshit, it's inflated, and its extremely deniable. But...

"Why was he carrying a manifesto and the gun and all that other stuff, why not dump it" now I'm not Luigi any more than the next poster, but when you escape from a high profile assassination in a major city, and are on an intercity bus which by some miracle, has not been stopped by the police for like 3 days your paranoia is through the roof. It doesn't calm down, it just gets worse as the improbability increases. I imagine the mental space to be similar to my great grandfather's friends, who escaped a prisoner of war camp in fascist italy, and those few weeks on the run left them on edge, moments from being caught, for the rest of their lives. Compare his remarkable calmness "in the moment" vs descriptions of him visibly shaking when approached by the cops.

So the gun is either 'security' or, my initial assumption was that he was heading to another city to do another one but that is likely the narrative the prosecution will try to construct.

The manifesto is also security. He was up against the nypd, who recently shot about 4 bystanders over a subway fare. If he was gunned down, he needed to be able to communicate his motivations weren't just (as I've seen some clown on here say) "wanted to kill somebody"

"The manifesto is terrible" yeah its pretty weak, its not impossible that it's fabricated but its also possible it's of the "written on his phone while on the run" variety, see above point.

"Why was he in a McDonald's" he had been on the run for days, the places that greyhound buses stop are irregular and also stupid. He didn't come out of hiding and pop down the road for a big mac. As noted above, he may not have planned not to be caught, and have overestimated the nypd.

"He's innocent until proven guilty" yeah thats how the US justice system works. He's innocent of the crime, particularly of terrorism. Does this mean that physically literally he didn't cause bullets to enter a CEO who subsequently died of bullet wounds? No, honestly, he almost certainly did that. It remains to be seen whether, legally, this makes him either a murderer and/or a terrorist. People who demonstrably shot bullets into a person who then died are acquitted on a regular basis, though most of them are cops.

#i promise if he didn't do it he would have made that claim at any point whatsoever #this has been in my drafts for weeks but im STILL seeing REGULAR replies to ANY post about him #repeating all of these points passionately. mostly the planted evidence thing.#the distinction is whether he is a killer [not technically a crime] or a murderer [a crime] or #a terrorist [a political label to justify removal of human rights]#luigi mangione

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thesinglesjukebox · 3 months ago

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CHAPPELL ROAN - "HOT TO GO!"

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2-4-6-8, who do we appreciate? You all! This wraps up this month's coverage -- see ya in November!

[7.00]

Alfred Soto: Chappell Roan's The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess is a sparkling collection of moods and passing desires, best when euphoric. The ballads might have been even stronger had she spelled out their choruses. [7]

Dave Moore: Spelling is fun! [3]

Grace Robins-Somerville: It's been too long since we've had a "spell the words out with your arms" song in the zeitgeist, and seeing people do the H-O-T-T-O-G-O dance at weddings has cemented its staying power. It's nice that lesbians have their "YMCA" now. [8]

Katherine St. Asaph: "Hot to Go!" is a crowd chant-along that shouldn't work at all as one. The template is "YMCA," but the difference and the problem is that "YMCA" is instantly parseable when spelled out, while "H-O-T-T / O-G-O" takes a moment's reassembly. The other highlight line in "baby, don't you like this beat? I made it so you'd sleep with me" is endearingly blunt -- more musicians should be that honest -- but nevertheless cannot honestly be chanted by anyone but Dan Nigro or Chappell Roan. Nevertheless, it cannot be denied that "Hot to Go!" is hugely effective at getting crowds to chant along. [7]

Aaron Bergstrom: Retroactively furious about the idea that one or more of the Village People potentially did or did not endorse Jimmy Carter in the 1980 Presidential election. [7]

Scott Mildenhall: Who or what is a hottogo? The chant falls short of total clarity by going two steps further than succinct, but therein lies the charm. Bursting at the seams of some slightly thin fabric, Chappell Roan carries this so far and fast that she might struggle to find her way back. [7]

Leah Isobel: There are about five perfect hooks on Chappell's debut album. "Baby don't you like this beat?/ I made it so you'd sleep with me" is one of them, precise and funny and melodically flawless. I think that was the moment that sold me on her whole project: the bluntness balanced by craft, the expertise made human by the raw and embarrassing vulnerability of wanting sex, wanting recognition, wanting anything at all. Also, have y'all heard the fanmade Rhythm Heaven edit for this? Banger! [8]

TA Inskeep: Every generation gets a new cheerleading-cheer anthem -- think Toni Basil's "Mickey" or Avril Lavigne's "Girlfriend" -- and here's the latest, with a bit of "Y.M.C.A." thrown in for good measure. It's hard to ignore Roan's joy on this chorus; this is also a rare pop single where its meme-ability actually draws me in (cf. "Call Me Maybe"). How can you not smile when you hear this? [7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Of all the guises that Chappell Roan inhabited on her debut album, this always felt like the truest — she sounds like Devo if they slayed, still gawking and midwestern and not quite fitting a perfect archetype of pop stardom but still, nevertheless, a star. The weepy ballads (some of them great) fade away in the face of this, the goofy chant-a-longs and dance instructions wearing one's resistance down on the strength of pure charisma and craft. There are hooks upon hooks here — I think I've had just the synth chord on the prechorus stuck in my head before. [9]

Ian Mathers: I took the number of times I've caught myself humming this song since I first heard the record last year and divided it by a very large number and got this score. I am not currently interested in Discourse beyond that. [10]

Nortey Dowuona: You're trying to take out Chappell Roan the way you took out Amy Winehouse and I don't like it. Not one bit. Also, the '80s actually kinda sucked -- let's not go back. (This song is great btw.) [8]

Jel Bugle: I know everyone loves Chappell, and I’ve not really bothered to get too excited. I like the Casio keyboard sounds, and spelling out words in songs is always a good trick (see "D I S C O," and I’m sure Olivia has a spelling words out song?). I can see why Sabrina is winning the chart battle here in the UK. I just feel like this song is okay, warm rather than hot -- a sort of personality over the strength of the song. Plus, I’m getting tired of this song constantly being pushed to me by Spotify -- if it happens again the [6] becomes a [5]. [6]

Taylor Alatorre: For all the talk of Chappell Roan hailing the return of “recession pop,” this strikes my ears as more of a grasping imitation of the real than most of what PC Music was accused of putting out. Maybe that’s unavoidable given the generation gap, as well as the decline of the universal pop star – Chappell covers “Bad Romance” on tour, but she doesn’t exude the belief that she can be a legitimate successor to Lady Gaga. She’s ambivalent about the compromises required for mass appeal, even on songs like this one which are structured, at least internally, toward that end. It’s all the external festooning and DIY-style pageantry which redirect the song’s course toward a cozier ideal of attainable imperfection, a glitzy and glammy take on self-sabotage. Which, in the end, is its own kind of earnestness. “HOT TO GO!” is confident enough in its own gangliness to bill itself as a coming-out party where everyone, even the normies, is invited, despite the singer’s doubts about the long-term viability of this promise. [6]

Tim de Reuse: The appeal of "Pink Pony Club" was immediately evident to me on first listen. But this one's a silly Chappell Roan song: The narrative here is buried under catchy turns of phrase and the hokey pokey-ass pre-chorus, leaving us to wring pathos out of a few scant lines in the verses. So, what's the draw? The simple build-and-release drama of a I-IV-I progression? The energy of a jittery, unkempt synthesizer-driven beat? Is the chant of "H-O-T-T-O-G-O" sugary enough to overcome my pop-pessimist cynicism and light up my long-calcified dopamine receptors for once? Eh, kinda. It's well-constructed, but it just isn't aiming all that high. [6]

Will Adams: Silly fun pop that doesn't require much thought -- just do the little dance and enjoy yourself! [6]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

#music #pop #pop music #chappell roan #music writing #music reviews #music criticism #the singles jukebox #hot to go #Youtube

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underthenightskydreamsneverdie · 22 days ago

Text

Carnal chapter 7

Summary: Daisy plans a special surprise for Mattheo during the Hufflepuff party for Triwizard champion Cedric Digory.

Warnings: 18+, guys its a lyric fic (not sure if I'm sorry about that or not), it opens strong with Matty's breeding kink, major side character hate (def not sorry about that tho), fighting (we all knew it would get here eventually, right?), Theo being the best bff a guy could ask for and a Maisy stan, if you've made it this far then idk just read it

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Daisy Waters

Word count: ~6650

A/N: I know it’s been a long time coming guys, but I love that y’all stuck around 💜

Divider credit @enchanthings-a

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Character mood boards Chapter Two mood board Chapter Three mood board Chapter Four mood board Chapter Five mood board Chapter Six mood board Chapter Seven mood board

Taglist: @evaslytherpuff @sylviaonyx @helendeath @hotcinnam0nspicy @esolean

If you would like to be added to the taglist leave a comment or send me an ask!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

Mattheo groaned, his bed creaking as his hips bucked with urgency. He kept his eyes closed, face lifted toward the ceiling, knowing one look at Daisy’s blissed out face beneath him would push him over the edge of an orgasm he’d been fighting to hold back for the last twenty minutes.

It was late, or is it early, almost four AM and he and Daisy had been at it for hours. It started after she had gotten back in bed earlier that morning and wouldn’t stop wiggling her ass against him. He groaned her name in warning. “Cut it out, princess, you need your rest.” I've given you nine orgasms in the last twelve hours, how do you have the energy for more?

He was exhausted, still in shock that she could match and surpass his sex drive, eagerly begging him for “just one more, Matty, then I’ll go to sleep. Please, lover, just one more orgasm.” Some nights he could convince her to end it there, but when she pouted, her bottom lip sticking out, a whimpered explanation of “can’t get enough of you”, he caved instantly. How can I deny her?

But he didn’t give in without reason, adamant that she would have to do the work for this last orgasm. She never minded, happily encouraging him to lay back against the pillows and relax, kissing him as she rode his thigh. She looked so pretty pleasing herself using his body, he never could just watch. He gripped her hips, guiding her movements, or groped her breasts, or worked even more marks onto her body. She always pressed her forehead against his as she came, tugging on his hair or clawing at his neck, a soft whimper of his name signaling her descent into exhaustion.

He thought he had driven her to that point earlier, her little whimper as she collapsed into his arms only six hours ago the telltale sign she was ready to sleep it off. Yet here they were, lost in each other again and he couldn’t be more happy about it. He had eaten her, fucked her thighs shooting his load all over her stomach, fingered her, and now he rubbed his cock through her folds, the closest she let him get to actually fucking her. A few fingers inside her to keep his cock from slipping in, he groaned like a man possessed as her lips parted for him, enveloping him with each stroke. Hold on, hold on, don’t cum yet, don’t cum yet.

He ripped his fingers from her, lining his tip up with her entrance, finally looking down at her. Her hair was a tangled mess around her shoulders, tears sliding down her cheeks from the pleasure, eyes unfocused, and mouth open in silent whimpers. She has never looked so perfect. “You ready to cum for me, pretty girl?” Her eyes drifted to his, closing as he kept a thumb swirling on her clit. It was enough of an answer for him, and he finally let go, grunting as he shot rope after rope of his seed into her. It wasn’t nearly as deep as he wished, he longed to be buried balls deep inside her, putting her contraceptive potion to the test, but for now it was pure ecstasy. Her hands gripped at his chest, her silent signal she hadn’t finished yet and he smiled down at her. “Don’t worry, princess, you know I always take care of you.” He slipped his fingers back into her, pushing his seed deeper inside with every movement, until her walls clenched around his fingers and she dug her nails into his chest, whimpering incoherently. “That’s it, baby, cum for me, cum on my fingers. That’s it, that’s my good girl.”

His legs gave out and he laid on top of her, kissing her jaw as she rode out the last waves of her orgasm. “So pretty when you fall apart for me, princess. I love you, Daisy, gods I love you.” He nuzzled his face into her neck, groaning as she ran her fingers through his hair, soothing him as they caught their breath.

“I love you too, Matty.” She squeezed him, holding him tightly to her, as if afraid he would get up and leave, but he knew it was just part of her love language. He sighed softly, once again overwhelmed by her love, given with no strings attached, no limits, and how quickly he had grown addicted to it. Everything about their relationship felt like they were moving way too fast and far too slowly all at once. He was drowning in her and he couldn’t get enough.

Kissing his way up to her lips, he cupped her face in his hands. “You’re so incredible, Daisy. I’m so lucky to have you as mine.” He kissed her passionately, scooping her into his arms. “Let’s get you cleaned up, love.” Carrying her into the bathroom he set her on the sink, gently wiping his cum off her body with a warm washcloth, encouraging her to use the toilet while he went to grab her a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt to sleep in. He helped her get dressed, chuckling at her sleepy expression, and carried her back to bed, tucking her in, snuggling up next to her. “Get some sleep, sweet girl, you’re gonna need your energy tomorrow.” Arm around her hip, he kissed the back of her neck, closing his eyes.

As her breathing slowed, he thought back to last week when she had come running up to him as he waited for her outside the Great Hall. He had cut off her greeting, pulling her in for a needy kiss after spending the last few hours apart. “Fuck, I missed you, princess. Sorry I interrupted you, were you saying something about a party?”

“Yes! Hufflepuff is throwing a party for Cedric,” her voice dropped to an annoyed tone as she said his name, “two days before the first task takes place. Will you come?” His first thought had been ‘a Hufflepuff party, gods that sounds lame’ but the way she was looking at him had melted him on the spot. Who cares if it’s boring if I get to spend the night with her. “Of course I will, princess.” She had leaned in to kiss him, an excited squeal slipping past her lips.

“Good, I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh you do?” She nodded her head, giggling and kissing him. “Gonna tell me what it is?” He teased her, hoping she would slip up and give it away.

“No! It’s a surprise, Matty! One I think you’ll enjoy.” Little tease. She leaned in and kissed him again, her hand gripping his jaw as she deepened the kiss. “What do you say we skip dinner, handsome?”

Her little moan made his cock twitch, making its opinion known, and he groaned, desperate for her. “Oh, fuck yes.”

Daisy had spent all of her free time alone over the week, “preparing for the party”, and Mattheo missed her company. He sighed, sitting at the Hufflepuff table by himself, waiting for her. He had finished eating fifteen minutes ago and he was starting to get annoyed. Where the hell is she?

A shiver went down his spine, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Again?! Just fuck off already. He had been feeling someone staring at him all week. Slowly lifting his head he casually looked around the room, eyes narrowed as he searched. Every pair of eyes he met seemed shocked to find him looking in their direction, leaving him stumped once again. Just as the feeling became so uncomfortable he considered leaving he heard running footsteps behind him, looking up to find Daisy racing towards him. She crushed her lips down on his, pulling him close as she sat down, moaning into the kiss.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, Mattheo. This damn practice was taking forever tonight, everyone is so nervous…” she must have realized she was saying too much because she abruptly stopped and changed the subject. “Mmm, steak and kidney pie for dinner? I could taste it on your tongue.”

He laughed, it was hard to be unhappy with her when she was this cute. He pulled her onto his thigh, pushing his plate out of the way and sliding hers over. “Yes, and I saved you the last piece. You should eat, princess, I know you’re hungry after we skipped lunch. Well, you skipped lunch…I had a pretty damn good meal.” She giggled, no doubt in his mind that she was blushing, as he brought up their earlier activities.

He had shoved her into a closet, grumbling about how much he missed her, needed her to himself, dropping to his knees and eating her to three orgasms. He hadn’t given a damn that she had squirted all over him, walked into his next class with pride as her juices dried on his clothes and face for everyone to see, the scent of her pleasure rolling off of him.

Wrapping his arms around her as she ate, he nuzzled against her shoulders, kissed her neck, even fixed the ribbon in her hair, a green one he had bought her as an obvious sign of possession. “Where have you been, what have you been doing all week? I think it’s time to tell me.” He didn’t want to admit he had been letting himself worry, growing more and more anxious about her solo time with every passing day.

“Give it an hour and you’ll know, Matty.” Her casual tone pushed him the wrong way, doesn’t she see how much this bothers me?, and he sighed.

“Daisy.” His irritation at being kept in the dark slipped out, her name coming out much more coldly than he had meant for it to. Her back stiffened and she turned her head to look at him.

“Mattheo.” Her voice was so much sweeter than his had been, making him flush with embarrassment. “Don’t you trust me, darling? Yes, I’ll admit I’ve been spending time around other boys, but my focus is always on you. Every moment we’ve spent apart this week is because I’m working on something for you.” He squeezed her tightly, feeling ashamed for ever having questioned her loyalty. “I’m yours, Matty, only yours. I walk around with your marks all over my body, your ribbon in my hair, we make out in front of everyone…trust me, my love, every single person in this school knows I belong to you. And I’m making sure they get a good reminder tonight that you belong to me. Now, sweetheart, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go get ready for the party.” She tried to get up but he pulled her back down on his lap.

“Wait, Daisy. I’m sorry I acted like a jealous ass, my sweet girl. I love you and I trust you. I don’t like having secrets between us and I panicked a little bit when you left me out.” Gently running a hand across her cheek, he pulled her in for a passionate kiss, pouring out all of his emotions. “Can you forgive me, princess?”

Her chuckle took him by surprise, his eyes narrowing for a split second. “Oh, Matty. You don’t have to ask forgiveness for being yourself.” He felt himself flush with embarrassment again, damn she knows me so well already. “But don’t question my loyalty again, Mattheo. I’m a Hufflepuff, remember? We value loyalty above all else, and my loyalties are for life.” He froze, jaw dropping open a little. For life? Gods, please let her be saying what I think she’s saying. She took advantage of his shock, worming her way out of his grasp and standing up. He watched her take a few steps before turning walking back to him, bending down to whisper in his ear. “Take a shower before the party, darling. My cum is starting to stink on you.” He sighed as she pressed a tender kiss to his temple and watched her walk away, biting his lip as her hips swayed.

Turning back to the table to down the last few sips of pumpkin juice from his goblet he could feel eyes on him again, anger rising in his chest knowing whoever it was had probably watched his entire interaction with Daisy. If it was a jealous girl thinking she could convince him to leave Daisy he would happily set her straight, leaving no room for doubt that he belonged to Daisy. But if it was another guy…well that changes things. He hadn’t been in a fight since school started and he was itching for one. Shaking off his anger, he stood, leaving the Great Hall and heading for his dorm.

Mattheo was surprised to find Theo hanging around the dorm after his shower, thinking he would have been heading to the Durmstrang party for Viktor Krum.

“Not going to the Durmstrang party, Theo?” He asked, looking over at his friend as he pulled out a pair of jeans.

“Nah, figured I should probably skip it after that run in I had last week, not that I couldn’t take that kid, just not in the mood tonight.”

Mattheo knew his friend had gotten into a bad fight after accidentally shoving a Durmstrang student, and that Theo could easily beat that guy to a pulp if he wanted, but he also knew Theo had a softer side that preferred to avoid confrontation where possible. “You’re just going to hang here by yourself all night? That’s no fun, mate. You’re welcome to join me at the Hufflepuff party if you want. Honestly, it’ll probably be a bore, but maybe you’ll find a cute girl to make out with.”

Theo laughed, sitting up on his bed. “If it’s going to be boring, why are you going? Daisy? You're whipped, Matt, admit it.”

“Maybe I am…” he shook his head as he chuckled, “…there’s something about her that intrigues me.” He replied casually, not wanting his best friend to tease him for his obsession over Daisy again.

He pulled his jeans on, a pair that were a little too tight knowing how Daisy couldn’t keep her hands off his ass when he wore them, and started searching for a clean shirt. Button up or t-shirt? Daisy made it sound like she was putting a decent amount of effort into her look tonight, why else would a girl need an entire hour to get ready, so I guess I’ll do the same. He pulled out a black button up, frowning as he slipped it over his shoulders. Is all black too much? Should I wear a tie? Dress shoes? Something that doesn't have holes at least? Ripping the shirt off he threw it onto the bed. Fuck, can’t believe I’m about to do this.

“Okay, fine, I’m whipped. Now get over here and help me figure out what to wear. If you laugh, I’ll kill you.” He spoke the words into the room at large instead of to Theo directly, feeling ridiculous.

“You know Daisy doesn’t care what you’re wearing, right? I know you two use silencing spells every night, but we can hear your bed frame hitting the wall nonstop and I see the way she looks at you, like you hung the fucking moon. That girl is so into you, Mattheo, she wouldn’t care if you showed up in your sweaty quidditch uniform.”

“Choose your next words carefully, Theo.” He felt a wave of possessiveness wash over him, not enjoying the casualness of his friends tone as he talked about her being in his bed.

“I just mean stop trying so hard. You’ve got her, now just be yourself.”

For fucks sake, like I hadn’t thought of that already. “My self wants to look good next to her. She always looks like a sexy punk goddess in her ripped jeans and rock tees…it feels weird to talk about her with you…” He trailed off, looking over at Theo who was changing into a clean shirt for the party.

“Not that weird, we used to talk about girls all the time. For the record, I like Daisy for you. She’s…well she’s hot, but I get the feeling she can keep up with you, even surprise you. Anyway, get your shirt on, Romeo, you took so long doing your hair we’re going to be late.”

He groaned, feeling embarrassed again. It had taken him twenty minutes to get his hair just right, curls falling in his face the way Daisy liked. Theo is right, you need to stop worrying and be yourself, moron. He stood up, digging out his favorite t-shirt, the one he loved seeing her wear, the one she claimed was hers now, hoping she would claim it again right there during the party. Running a hand through his hair, ruffling the curls into their normal mess he bent to tie his converse. Much better.

Pushing through the crowd of people gathered around the Hufflepuff House entrance, Mattheo looked around for Daisy, wishing she was by his side. He hated crowds, felt like he was drowning in all the bodies, he just wanted to hold her and ignore everyone else.

“I didn’t think this was going to be such a big party. Or that we were late for it.” Theo’s voice came from behind him, acting like an anchor for Mattheos sanity.

“I didn’t either…” He stopped as he caught snippets of other conversations around him. It seemed like the party had started hours ago, but people were just starting to get excited about something.

“Has she gone on yet?”, “I chose this over the Durmstrang party, the rumors better be true.”, “I heard she has all new songs this year.”

“Sounds like someone will be performing. I wonder who.” Mattheo turned back to look at Theo as they forced their way into the common room.

“I hope it’s not this girl, gods she’s awful.” Theo nodded towards the large stage set up in the back of the room, where an older Gryffindor was singing extremely off key.

Mattheo looked around the room, frowning as his eyes passed over the stage and the girl on it. “Is this an open mic thing? Daisy, I love you, but I did not sign up for that.” He shoved his way to the front of the stage, half a mind to get up there just to look around for Daisy. Suddenly a shiver ran down his spine again, the feeling of being watched returning. He spun around, determined to find this little shit once and for all. Theo looked down at him then looked around too.

“You okay, man?” This is why he’s your best friend. Doesn’t even know what he’s looking for but he’s looking anyway.

“I’ve been feeling someone watching me all fucking week and I’m ready to fight over it. Do you see anyone looking at me?” He knew if things did turn violent, Theo would have his back.

Before Theo could answer, a loud voice sounded from above them. “Hogwarts! Who’s ready to get this party started?” Around him everyone cheered, as if they knew something he didn’t, and looked up, searching for something. Instead of joining them he looked around for Daisy once more, meeting a pair of eyes he hadn’t expected to. Cedric Digory. Why is he looking at me? Isn’t this whole damn party for him, why is he frowning like that?

“You have some kind of beef with Digory?” Theo’s voice met his ear, his friend looking in the same direction as him.

The question was simple enough but the answer, Mattheo was starting to think, may not have been so simple. He narrowed his eyes and Cedric did the same. What the fuck? “I didn’t think I did…”

“Kind of seems like there is. Have you done anything to offend him this year?”

“The only thing I’ve done differently is date…” He trailed off as realization struck. Oh no, no, pretty girl, please say it’s not so. Mattheo knew she had an ex, one who had used her and treated her like shit, like an object not a person. The night Daisy had told him about her sexual past Mattheo made her swear to never tell him this person's name, knowing the information would have him sharing his mothers cell block in Azkaban. His fist tightened as he looked at Digory, and he tried to calm his breathing. He needed confirmation from Daisy before he beat this asshole to death.

“Then wait no longer! Here she is, Hufflepuffs very own, DAISY WATERS!”

When the voice rang out around the room, amplified and excited, Cedric turned his head towards the top of the staircase, looking for her, an almost hopeful expression on his face. Mattheos eyes flew in the same direction, landing on her. Oh fuck. A single look at her and he understood why she needed an hour to get ready. He groaned loudly, his breath completely gone, his heart racing as his blood drained from his head. He grabbed onto Theo’s shoulder to keep his legs underneath him, feeling faint, more than happy to fall on his face in front of everyone if it meant she would keep looking at him.

“Hello everyone! How are we doing tonight?” She paused for the cheers that rang out across the room, a handful of students chanting her name. “Thank you, thank you!” She held her hand up, the noise dying down as she started to ascend the stairs. “I’ve been asked to say a few words about our Hogwarts champion, so let’s make some noise for Cedric Digory, shall we?!” Around him the room burst into applause and screams, Mattheo staying quiet, smiling to himself when he noticed the almost imperceptible look of annoyance on Daisy’s face. “There are a lot of things I could say, but in the interest of keeping things short and sweet I’ll just say this: good luck.” The way she barely paused as she walked past Digory, not even meeting his eye, told Mattheo everything he needed to know. Oh he’s definitely her ex.

Every step she took brought her closer to him, her eyes only leaving him when she looked to see where she was going. “Now that’s out of the way, who here is ready for a little music?” The room erupted in screams again, much more quiet than they had been for Digory a moment ago. “Oh, I know you can do better than that, let’s try again. Who’s ready for some music?!” At volumes he didn’t even know were possible to reach, the crowd cheered for her, but she looked displeased. “Still can’t hear you!” His ears felt like they were going to explode as he watched her move closer until she stood right in front of him in all her punk goddess glory.

She looked stunning in her knee high leather boots with long laces flying around her legs with every step, fishnet tights giving him tantalizing peeks at the fresh batch of love bites he had trailed down her inner thighs, black pleated skirt covered in jingling zippers and silver rings, her hole-filled shirt showing off her lace bra and even more of his marks. But it was her eyes that held him captive, the holographic blue and purple pigments splattered across her cheeks like freckles, sparkling under the stage lights, hypnotizing him, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. She’s a work of art.

His breath caught in his throat as she placed her hand on his chest, looking him dead in the eyes and repeating herself. “I still can’t hear you.” The room around them fell silent, waiting to see what Mattheo would do. He opened his mouth to say her name, a desperate, needy, whimper tumbling from his lips instead. His cheeks flushed as the room erupted with laughter and cheers, but her gaze made it easy to block out any embarrassment he felt, the wicked smile on her face the most beautiful thing he could ever hope to fall victim to. “That’s better.”

Elbowing Theo in the ribs to shut him up, Mattheo watched her jump up onto the stage, throw her guitar strap over her shoulder and step up to the mic that materialized in front of her. “What do ya say we start with an old favorite and…

Let ‘em know we’re still rock ‘n’ roll

The crowd roared as the drums rippled to life, Daisy’s fingers moving over the neck of her guitar with skilled ease.

I don’t care about my makeup

I like it better with my jeans all ripped up

Don’t know how to keep my mouth shut

You say, “So what?”

Her voice was like a siren song, one listen and he knew he would never recover, never be the same, never be able to live without it blessing his ears. My gods, Daisy. As if I needed another reason to obsess over you.

I don’t care if I’m a misfit

I like it better than the hipster bullshit

I am the motherfuckin’ princess

You still love it

Her eyes met his, twinkling with pure joy. “Fuck yes, baby!” He shouted out to her, unable to believe this incredible girl was his.

Some, somehow it’s a little different when I’m with you

You know what I really am all about

You know how it really goes (oh, oh, oh, yeah)

Some, someway we’ll be gettin outta this town one day

You’re the only one that I want with me

You know how the story goes

“Sing it with me!” And they did, shouting the lyrics back at her

When it’s you and me

We don’t need no one to tell us who to be

We’ll keep turning up the radio

What if you and I

Just put up a middle finger to the sky?

All around him hands flew into the air, middle fingers raised and he laughed, loving the response Daisy was getting.

Let ‘em know that we’re still rock and roll

Rock and roll

Hey, hey, hey

Rock and roll

Hey, hey, hey

The crowd knew their part well, making Mattheo wonder how many times this song had echoed through the castle without him ever knowing about it. He zoned out as the song continued, watching her fingers fly over the guitar frets, the ecstatic smile on her face as voices filled the air so loudly she didn’t even need to sing, and the little hint of concentration that grew as her guitar solo began. Come on, baby, stick that cute little tongue out for me, that’s it, just like in my sketch. Yes! He let out a soft ‘whoo’ as her tongue curved up to her upper lip, throwing his hands in the air.

When it’s you and me

We don’t need no one to tell us who to be

We’ll keep turning up the radio

The crowd joined her and she let them take over singing the chorus while she added in additional vocals when the mood struck her, showing off her skills.

What if you and I

Just put up a middle finger to the sky? (To the sky)

Let ‘em know that we’re still rock and roll

When it’s you and me

We don’t need no one to tell us who to be (Yeah, yeah)

We’ll keep turning up the radio (Still rock and roll)

What if you and I

Just put up a middle finger to the sky? (Rock and roll)

Let ‘em know that we’re still rock and roll

Rock and roll

Hey, hey, hey

Rock and roll (Rock and roll)

Hey, hey, hey

When the song ended Mattheo screamed for her as loud as he could, shouting “that’s my girl!”, throwing his fist in the air, watching her giggle and roll her eyes at him. He wanted to rush up on stage and kiss her until they both passed out, but she silenced that urge by stepping back up to the microphone.

“Woo! Feels good to be back, doesn’t it?!” Mattheo watched her with awe as the room exploded into cheers again. She was a natural at this, seeming so comfortable with the room hanging on her every breath, making others happy with her art. She laughed, her smile making his heart flutter with joy, her happiness infectious. “This next one’s called Want You Like That and I wrote it about someone very special to me.”

I think I talk about you

Every time you walk out the door

I told my mom about you

Damn, I’ve never done that before

Her eyes didn’t leave him for a second, lyrics sung directly to him, only for him. You told your mom about me, princess? He smiled, heart racing, knowing exactly how much he must mean for her to tell her dead mother about him.

I’d break his heart, I’d make some art

And then he’d call me a horrible person

But now I’m thinking ‘bout you

Every time that I’m wakin’ up

I wrap my arms around you

Even then you’re not close enough

You’re on my tongue, you’re in my lungs

You call me yours and it sucks ‘cause it’s working

Mattheo was frozen in place, transfixed by the lyrics Daisy sang. There she goes reading my mind again. How does she know exactly what’s in my heart?

I brace for the damage

You’re perfect, I panic

So happy it’s tragic

Yeah, I want you like that

Don’t freak out, I’m nervous

I’ll break us on purpose

I’m fucked but it’s worth it

Yeah, I want you like that

My biggest fear, sounding so beautiful slipping from her perfect lips. Are we both our own worst enemies? I won’t let us break this, baby, I promise.

The way you look at me

You’re good to me, don’t know what this is

Not used to honesty

And honestly, it’s making me sick

It’s weird you treat me like a person

And you don’t try to fix me

Just wanna be with me

After three months of drowning in her selfless love Mattheo had realized it wasn’t his job to fix a single thing about her, only to be there by her side as she fixed herself. The idea that someone else, Cedric, had hurt her, made her feel broken and worthless was enough to have him seeing red, the only thing keeping Mattheo from killing him right now was Daisy’s voice surrounding him like a calming embrace.

But you’re tracin’ every line of my tattoos

His mind went back to the night he had asked about her tattoos, three ravens on her shoulder and the outline of a howling wolf on her hip. “The birds are my parents and I.” He had run his fingers over the two birds in flight, their wings flapping on her skin, understanding why the third was still on the ground. Oh my sweet girl, how lonely it must be to wait your turn to fly. Let me wait with you. His hand slid down her back towards her hip. “And this one?” She had smiled at him, his fingers tracing the black ink. “I like wolves.” She had given him no further explanation but he could tell there was more to it than that.

Wasting all of our time in your bedroom

Every spare minute and I don’t want it any other way, love. Her eyes said the same thing as she winked at him.

Make it out alive, I don’t want to

Cause I want you, yeah

I brace for the damage

You’re perfect, I panic

So happy, it’s tragic

Yeah, I want you like that

Don’t freak out, I’m nervous

I’ll break us on purpose

I’m fucked but it’s worth it

Yeah, I want you like that

He watched her sing, sighing as she closed her eyes and lost herself in the music. My gods, you’re beautiful, Daisy. As the song ended, the crowd cheering, she slipped her guitar off and jumped off the stage, rushing into his arms. He pulled her into him, hugging her tightly as their lips met in a passionate kiss, the kind that promised they would go through hell to be together, even if it was a self created hell. “I want you like that, princess. Nothing is going to break us. I won’t let it.” She nodded softly in agreement as the band called out to her, eager to get back to playing. He sighed as she cupped his cheek for a moment before getting back on stage.

She played a couple more songs, ones the audience knew, their level of enthusiasm still stunning him. The longer he watched her, the more desperate he became for her, desperate to be alone with her, naked with her, watching her needy tears ruin her pretty makeup. By the time she announced the final song he wasn’t sure how he was comprehending a single word she said, every drop of his blood pulsing through his aching cock.

“I’ve got one more new song for you guys. This one’s called Nonsense.”

The smirk on her face as she looked at him almost made him cum in his pants, and he let out a low groan, wondering exactly what this song would be about. He had a feeling he was going to love it. Surprising him again, she pulled the microphone from its stand and made her way to him as the band started to play, singing some intro notes. His hands automatically moved to her hips when she wrapped an arm around his neck.

Think I only want one number in my phone

I might change your contact to “Don’t Leave Me Alone”

You said you like my eyes and you like to make ‘em roll

Treat me like a Queen, now you got me feelin’ thrown, oh

Groaning as she spun around, he pulled her close, wrapping both arms around her as her hips rocked against him with the music.

But I can’t help myself when you get close to me

Baby, my tongue goes numb, sounds like “bleh-blah-blee”

I don’t want no one else, baby, I’m in too deep

Here’s a lil song I wrote, it’s about you and me

He chuckled, thinking it was his tongue that usually went numb around her. Gods I’m in way too deep, princess, and I fucking love it.

I’ll be honest

Lookin’ at you got me thinkin’ nonsense

Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in

And when you got your arms around me

Oh, it feels so good

He groaned again, how does she know exactly how I feel?

I had to jump the octave

I think I got an ex, but I forgot him

The greatest feeling of relief washed over him. Thank Merlin for that. Now if only your ex would forget about you. Forgive me for the fight he and I are bound to have tonight, princess.

I can’t find my chill, I must’ve lost it

I don’t even know, I’m talkin’ nonsense

I’m talkin’, I’m talkin’

I’m talkin’ all around the clock

I’m talkin’ hope nobody knocks

I’m talkin’ opposite of soft

I’m talkin’ wild, wild thoughts

Oh really, princess? He knew she had some wild fantasies and desires but she kept saying she wasn’t ready to share them. He slid his hands down her legs, slipping them under her skirt and groping her thighs, not giving a single fuck that half of Hogwarts was watching them right now. She was his and he would do what he wanted to her. Her fingers tugging at his hair only made him want to keep going, to find out just how far she would let him go while they were in the spotlight.

You gotta keep up with me

I got some young energy

I caught that L-O-V-E

How do you do this to me?

Fuck, I’m trying to keep up with you, baby. He had a feeling actually fucking her would wear her out more than what they were doing now, and the way she was grinding against him so seductively as her beautiful voice sang about such dirty things had him ready to force the issue. He spent the rest of the song kissing her neck and losing himself in thoughts of being buried inside her. How do you do this to me, Daisy.

But I can’t help myself when you get close to me

Baby, my tongue goes numb, sounds like “bleh-blah-bleh-blee”

And I don’t want no one else, baby, I’m in too deep

Here’s a lil song I wrote, it’s about you and me

I’ll be honest

Lookin’ at you got me thinkin’ nonsense

Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in

When you got your arms around me

Oh, it feels so good

I had to hit the octave

I think I got an ex, but I forgot him

And I can’t find my chill, I must’ve lost it

I don’t even know, I’m talkin’ nonsense

I’m talkin’, I’m talkin’, I’m talkin’

I’m talkin’, I’m talkin’, I’m talkin’,

Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah

Mattheo felt a hand grip his shoulder, yanking him away from Daisy.

I don’t even know any-

Mattheo saw her whip around, shocked by the loss of his body behind her, her eyes narrowing as she saw what was happening. He spun around to see Cedric glaring at him, his face red with anger, and fists clenched.

“RIDDLE!” Cedric shouted at him, before looking over his shoulder and speaking to Daisy, who Mattheo assumed had pushed her way through the crowd circling around him and Digory. “Really, Daisy? This prick is who you go for after me? You’re more of an idiot than I thought…” He didn’t get the chance to continue insulting her, Mattheo landing the first punch to Cedric’s jaw hard enough to make him stumble backwards.

Mattheo wanted to yell back, tell him he had no right to speak to Daisy like that, or at all if he had his way, but he was so consumed by his hatred of the boy and the time he had spent with Daisy that he couldn’t form the words. His chest heaved with anger, the room around him blurring, except for his target, as he took another swing, landing this one on Cedric’s left eye.

It was a mistake, bringing him too far into Digory's range, his own head swiveling violently to one side as he was hit in the jaw. Fuck. He didn’t recover fast enough, Cedric taking a cheap shot, hitting him in the stomach hard enough to take his breath away, making him double over and realizing too late that the other boys knee was about to collide with his jaw.

“Stop it!” He heard Daisy shout, surprised to find it coming from above him, his head swirling as he looked around, discovering he was at eye level with people's shoes. He jumped up, charging at Digory, knocking him to the ground before mercilessly hitting him over and over.

Arms wrapped around him and ripped him off of Cedric, Theo’s angry eyes boring into his. “For fucks sake, Mattheo, can’t you hear her calling for you?! Look at her!” He followed Theo’s pointing hand, eyes landing on Daisy, his heart breaking at the sight of her.

Tears ran down her face, not the type of tears he hoped would ruin her makeup tonight, and she was shaking from head to toe, her chest heaving as she knelt with her hands flat on the stone floor. He watched as her fingers curled and she gritted her teeth, upper lip twitching as though she were holding back a snarl.

“Daisy?”

#Spotify #mattheo riddle #mattheo smut #mattheo x oc #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle series #mattheo riddle x oc #mattheo riddle fic #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle angst #matt riddle #carnal #carnal series #carnal fan fiction #rdni

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mallgawths · 1 year ago

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Please "enjoy" this long, rambling, text post about all the toxic parts of being an early 2000s mall goth that's been sitting in my drafts for weeks.

I’m keeping this blog to be nostalgic for the years 1999-2004, but holy shit “mall goth” was such an insult back then, it meant you were a poser who just bought your outfit at Hot Topic.

Listening to Evanescence was a social death sentence and for posers, Emo meant “indie rock” about suicide and breakups, no one had heard of MCR yet and when they eventually did, it was for 14 year old posers. Marilyn Manson was corny and decidedly “not goth”, Blink 182 was for tweens who just discovered Avril Lavigne or for gross frat boys. All pop punk was for tweens and gross frat boys, if you liked them before the genre got big, too bad, but you could say they’re sell outs and you only like their older stuff. Nine Inch Nails wasn’t industrial because it was on the radio. If anyone had heard of an industrial band, they were too mainstream to be industrial. Wumpscut was for try hards trying to prove how industrial they were, some Skinny Puppy was ok, but only their oldest stuff, KMFDM was basically mainstream rock. Kittie was acceptable if you were a girl, all that 90s girl metal was fine actually, but probably only if you were a girl. Korn was for middle schoolers.

“Cringe” wasn’t really a word, but “poser” was, and if you spelled it “poseur”, you were trying too hard and obviously a poser yourself. If you said you hated preps, you were a poser. You were generally allowed to like one or two mainstream pop bands, but it couldn’t be anything current, and you had to be kind of ironic about it.

We used to call goths who we thought were beneath us “gawfs” or “goffiks” (side note: this is why it drives me crazy when people say they think My Immoral isn’t a troll, because saying “goffik” was like a huge “I’m actually a goth, making fun of worse goths on the internet” dogwhistle). These were, of course, all online because we only knew other mall goths in real life, and we all generally stuck together even if we didn’t like each other. We denied being goth if anyone called us such, because we knew we weren’t good enough at being goth to call ourselves goth. “Scene” meant any kind of alternative scene for a little bit, and when it finally mean big haired screamo, they were obviously posers, and they didn’t want to be called goth and we didn’t want other people to call them goths anyways.

The only acceptable goth music that was like real goth goth was either really unknown local stuff, stuff from the 90s that you had to have already been liking since the 90s, and like the iconic 80s goth bands. But not really The Cure, everyone liked The Cure, so you couldn’t just like them alone. But it couldn’t just be iconic 80s goth, because then everyone would be suspicious if you were a poser because everyone knew you were like just a baby when those songs came out.

We all shopped at Hot Topic because it was the only place to buy black clothes. But admitting your clothes were from Hot Topic was so embarrassing. Because everyone knew we should be buying from expensive indie designers online, or thrifting, or sewing our own clothes, or being more creative. So much goth style was vinyl fetish and BDSM stuff. If you were even vaguely goth people just assumed you were into that, or you pretended you were, even if you were like 14, which is really kind of fucked up?????

You could break all these rules if you were pretty and did good makeup. But maybe the rules were totally different for your friend group, there was no social media, this was even before MySpace, the internet was dialup and you only has access to it a little bit in the evenings or in the weekends. So there was no larger community to check up on. Just some forums full of completely anonymous people.

It’s weird seeing gen z use “mall goth” as a neutral description of an aesthetic, and actively calling themselves that. I’m intensely nostalgic for it, but still instinctively cringe when I see someone call themselves that and I think “No! Don’t say that! They’ll know you’re trying!”

Anyways, these are the toxic parts that came along with being a self loathing teen goth in like 2002.

#Mall goth #2000s goth #mallgoth #y2k #diary of a former mall goth

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nichestartrekkie0-0 · 9 months ago

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If "Subspace Rhapsody" took place in S1 I have some headcanons

A- I feel like it would have been funny to do just covers of songs instead of just making up new ones- cuz then the crew would be scrambling to decipher wtf Una and Chris meant by singing a duet to 'Whenever Wherever' by Shakira (Like are they friends? Should we call Batel??)

I feel like La'an would have sung in something other than English, because god damn it if she's going to sing her feelings- she's going to at least sing in a language no one understands! (Aka Chinese opera or Bollywood lol )

M'Bena and Pike should have had a buddy duet to something stupid

Hemmer would have had a cute duet with Uhura to something sweet, maybe a sad/dramatic solo alone

Chapel would be singing 'What the hell' by Avril Lavigne

Erica needs to do 'my way' by Queen Key, she/they don't have a choice

Spock should have 2 songs or more, each in a different language (one of which is Vulcan) and one of them has to be some horrific pop song that he will deny that he has ever listened to

every time the song comes on, the crew has no idea who's singing and why, so they just look around frantically until someone breaks out singing-

Oh, and they should have control of their facial expressions. If Una's going to put on a show, she's going to be rolling her eyes and smirking the whole time.

#star trek #star trek headcanon #star trek strange new worlds #star trek snw #lieutenant hemmer #la'an noonien singh #una chin riley #erica ortegas #captain pike #snw spock

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kasagia · 2 years ago

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Hi there! Could you do an imagine where the reader is elenas younger sister and she used to date stefan in highschool( instead of stefan and elena) but after klaus arrives to town her and klaus fall in love despite elena and the mystic falls gang being absolutely upset with for being so and try to warn her about klaus and she doesnt listen and ends up moving to new orleans with klaus and leaves a heartbroken stefan whos still in love with her and a very dissappoitned friend group but after she goes to new orleans she realises that everyone was right and that klaus was very toxic and possesive over her and she regrets moving and doesnt really know what to do(you could write about what she does next if you can)

Sorry,if this was too long and thank you

Together(doesn't feel right at all)

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Gilbert!reader, past!Stefan Salvatore x Gilbert!reader Summary: After you dump your boyfriend, Stefan Salvatore, for the big bad wolf, Klaus Mikaelson, and move to New Orleans with him, you start to realize his toxic, possessive behavior towards you. But is there still enough time to leave the devil who seduced you and go back to your normal life? Warning(s): toxic and possesive behaviour, angst, escape, curses, unhealthy relationships, panic attack, maybe dark!Klaus but idk - this man could kidnap me and I would thank him, so... Word Count: 5,3k+

Something just isn't right I can feel it inside The truth isn't far behind me You can't deny

In hindsight, you should have known better.

Everyone warned you against him. Your sister Elena, your ex-boyfriend Stefan, Demon, Bonnie, Caroline, Katherine, even his own siblings.

But no, you knew better. You could change him, you saw him as a good man who might be harsh to others but would never dare to do you any harm. A man who would care for you until his last breath. Who would never intentionally make you feel insecure or uncomfortable. Which will never make you fearful or anxious.

But now, as you sit on his bed in his bedroom in New Orleans after he locked you here last night when you threatened to leave him and that damn city in a fit of anger, you feel like he might have crossed this line with you a very long time ago.

You couldn't deny that the truth wasn't far behind you.

But it was too embarrassing to face the fact that you voluntarily abandoned Stefan—your sweet, always supportive boyfriend—for this devil in disguise who seduced you with his pretty words.

Your mother may have been right to say that Satan no longer wears horns and a tail. He had beautiful blonde curls and captivating blue eyes glued to a perfect face.

And that's what Klaus was like from the beginning. Too perfect. From your first meeting, he was your (in this case, black) knight in shining armor. Always gallant, always tactful, always charming.

Your Mr. Right.

"I love you Y/N. No one can love you as much as I do. Not even your sweet Stefan."

"We belong to each other. Our souls have been connected since the beginning of the world and I can only thank this higher power that I finally found you on my way."

"Run away with me, love. Run away from this rotten town and your friends, who are jealous of our love, to the place, where we can be together and don't bother about others opinions."

"I promise you love. I will treat you like a queen. You will lack nothing, everyone will be at your beck and call, my beautiful human, whom I love more than my own life."

Yeah… you should know better than to believe those whispered promises of the devil kissing every inch of your flesh.

When I turn the lights out When I close my eyes Reality overcomes me I'm living a lie

But it was a beautiful lie he made up; you had to give it to him.

The most powerful man in the world, hopelessly in love with you - an ordinary human, the doppelgänger's sister.

Staring emotionlessly into the mirror of the dark room, you began to wonder how you got into your current situation.

"Klaus. We need to talk."

I announced as I entered his art studio. The man was painting his latest painting - New Orleans spread out at his feet. I stopped being his muse a long time ago. Now this city was his enemy, best friend, and lover. And I became his favorite toy, the thing he was used to having. I had to face the truth and escape the possessive hybrid while there was still time.

"Later, love. I'll finish in a moment and come to our bed."

"This is what we need to talk about."

"Our bed?" he asked, annoyed by my presence. "What's wrong with it? I just replaced it yesterday."

"I want to move out of here." my confident, firm statement effectively snapped him out of his painting trance. He put down his supplies and gave me his full attention for the first time in two weeks.

"What?"

"We're not good to each other. I think it will be better..."

"You're joking, right? Love, you can't live without me." he interrupted me, laughing amusedly as if I had told him a funny, stupid joke.

"Well, over the last few months, I've proven that I'm doing great. Besides, I don't remember you holding my hand before I turned seventeen. I don't need care, Klaus."

"A few months? I was right next to you all this time; are you hallucinating, love?" his feigned concern, laced with a clear desire to unnerve me, almost worked. But I'd replayed that moment too many times in my head to succumb to his games so quickly.

"Do not make fun of me. I'm serious. I've had enough, Klaus. Your condescending behavior, your sudden outbursts of jealousy, and the slow erosion of my independence. You think I didn't notice how suddenly my credit card and my car keys disappeared? Or how suddenly every man or woman, after talking to me, magically ends up in the hospital? Are you going to punish your siblings too for talking to me?"

"It's all up to you, love. You can start acting like a good girl again, or I'm going to get a little... nastier."

"Nastier? Could you be even nastier than you already are?"

"Be careful, love. I'm not the one of us with mortal siblings that could be killed at any time."

"Are you threatening me with the deaths of my own siblings? Where is your fucking border, Niklaus?! Look at us! This is toxic, we're in a toxic relationship! You promised me that you would never, ever treat me like one of your enemies, like a fucking impostor, but that's all you're doing since these damn three months we've been here! I'm not going to be part of your plan or play your fucking toy anymore. This is ending right here. I am leaving, and I do not want to see you again."

As you might have guessed, you hadn't even taken a step out of his studio. He pressed some liquid-soaked cloth over your mouth and nose, and you passed out in his arms. Now you are here, locked in his room, which you once thought was yours too, and waiting for the hybrid's decision. What you wouldn't give to hear Elena's or Stefan's calm voice right now.

When I'm alone I Feel so much better And when I'm around you I don't feel together

"Oh! Hi, sweetheart." Klaus' sudden arrival in the living room startled me. The man stared at me wordlessly, watching my every move carefully. Still, I smiled at the oddly behaving hybrid and tried to talk to him. Apparently, something must have been bothering him since he has been so… different lately. Maybe today I'll be lucky. "How was your day? You disappeared from our bed earlier; I didn't even get a chance to say hello to…" the shattering of glass against the wall dangerously close to where I was standing effectively silenced me.

"DON'T LIE TO ME! I saw you with Marcel in the pub earlier. If you missed me so much, what the hell were you doing with him?!"

"Klaus. Please, try to calm..."

"Don't even try to calm me down! You're cheating on me with this lesser vampire?! While I'm tearing my veins out to keep your mortal ass alive every damn day?!"

"I DON'T KNOW what you have seen, but if you stay a little longer and listen to us, you will know I was talking about you. I'm worried about you; you act completely different than when we were in Mystic Falls."

"You don't even realize how incorrect this comparison is." he laughed at me, turning his back on me to walk over to his minibar and pour himself a drink.

"Sweetie, maybe it would be better for us, if we took a short vacation? Just you, me, and some nice place. What do you think? We can even go back to Mystic Falls." I tried to ignore his furious provocation and smooth things over.

"So you could see your Stefan?" he said it bitterly, drinking a whole glass of bourbon at once..

"What?" I turned to stare at the angry, jealous hybrid in disbelief.

"Never mind. It's a ridiculous idea anyway. I have to stay here and finish things. I can't just take breaks. Do you know how many enemies I have here against me and how hard I have to work to keep my family and you safe? Knowing your girlfriend is a slut who throws herself at any man she comes across doesn't help at all." that's it. I had officially had enough of his condescending, humiliating behavior.

"You know, you might be right. I was slutty whore enough to get into your fucking bed." I growled furiously, trying to get out of the room and away from his overpowering presence. However, the original wouldn't let me have the last word. He grabbed my elbow in a firm, bruising grip.

"Stop acting like that or…"

"Or what?! What did you gonna do?! I'M ALREADY IN HELL! Killing me would only be a favor on your part."

Suddenly, he pulled me to him, so I crashed into his chest. He wrapped his arm around me in a tight hug, not letting me move an inch from him, and with a tenderness that was surprising for me at this moment, he ruffled the stray strands of hair that fell over my eyes in the heat of our argument.

"Who said I would get rid of the most valuable thing in my life? No, love. You will never run away from me. You sealed your bloody fate the moment those alluring, pretty lips smiled at me in challenge." he came towards me, with each step he took towards me, he forced me to back up until I bumped into the wall. "You're mine. And no one, not even you, can change that now." he said, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look into his eyes.

"Fuck you."

"You want? I didn't know you were into make-up sex, love. I would have used it a long time ago." his devilish smirk used to make my heart flutter; now I couldn't feel anything but revulsion.

It doesn't feel right at all Together Together we've built a wall Together Holding hands we'll fall Hands we'll fall

"Y/N?" Rebekah's whisper snapped you out of your thoughts about your toxic relationship with her brother. "Are you there?" you frowned as you walked over to the door and put your ear to the cold wood.

"Bekah?" after a while, the crunch of metal could be heard in the quiet mansion, and the door to your makeshift cell was opened.

The blonde's sympathetic gaze sent chills down your spine, and the reason you've been so persistent in avoiding Klaus's siblings as well as him was instantly reminded of you. All those sad and anxious looks made you sick to your stomach. You preferred to indulge in beautiful, dead silence in a corner of the house than to be in the same room with any of them. At least no one treated you like a victim.

"Y/N. Come. We need to hurry up. I don't know how much time we have left." she took your hand carefully and gently dragged you to the porch in front of the house.

"Rebekah, what are you doing?" you asked and pulled your hand from her gentle embrace.

"I'm rescuing you from my brother. He completely went mad after your argument. He's more paranoid than usual, and believe me, it's only a matter of time before he goes back to his maniac state. You're not ready to deal with this. You're just a human; you can't protect yourself from him anymore. Elijah thought maybe you'd be his anchor and help keep him normal, but this has gone too far, and I'm not going to watch what he does to you anymore. So I'm giving you a chance to leave."

"This isn't just about me. I can see it in your eyes. He did something to you, and you want to get revenge on him; make him pay for it. I want to know what he did."

"He's holding Marcel somewhere. I can't let my brother kill him before I get to him, so I'll focus his attention on something else."

"On my escape."

"Exactly."

"This won't work, Rebekah. If Klaus has a plan, sooner or later he will carry it out. He will not be stopped by the loss of some simple mortal."

"I know something about my brother, Y/N. Maybe he's now in his imperious mood and wants to take control over this city, but he loves you. In his crazy way, he cares about you. Not because he claimed you as his, but because he has some feelings for you that he may not understand clearly. I've never seen him like this before with any woman. But he is Niklaus after all. His hunger for power is greater than anything else." the blonde stopped, noticing something over your shoulder. She sighed with relief. You turned to see a black car pulling into the driveway. "Finally."

"Who is that?"

"You will see. You will be happy." she handed you a bag that was waiting outside the front door and led you to the parked car. After a while, the only person you wanted to be with you ran out of it.

"Lena?"

"Y/N!" the brunette screamed, throwing herself on your neck and hugging you tightly. "I missed you so much." you suddenly felt someone take the weight off your bag. You pulled away from your sister to look at Stefan Salvatore himself. Someone you least expected to be your savior.

"Thank you, Rebekah. We'll be fine from here."

"Take care of her!"

"We will. Get to the car, ladies. We have a long road ahead of us."

Without a single word of explanation, Elena grabbed your hand and dragged you into the backseat, positioning herself so she could hug you from behind and comb your hair. You sighed, grateful for a little peace and comfort from her reassuring touch.

Stefan threw your bag into the front seat and started the car, leaving this damn city as fast as he could.

To your great relief, none of them gave you sympathetic looks or words of comfort. You drove in a pleasant silence, punctuated by the sound of the engine running as Stefan gave it more throttle. You thought you were going to get dizzy from how quickly you dodged the burning lampposts, the light of which was pouring in and out of the car window like you were at a disco.

You just couldn't shake one lingering thought from your mind that had been nagging you ever since Elena had shoved you into the car with a pleased, malicious smile from Rebekah.

Will Klaus be okay?

This has gone on so long I realize that I need Something good to rely on Something for me

As it turned out, Stefan drove you to your parents' old summer house near the mountains. You were glad that they chose this place as your hiding place. You've always hated it, but at least your forced stay won't destroy any of your childhood memories.

And judging by Elena's amused smirk when she saw your grimace, you guessed that her choice of location wasn't so accidental.

Your bodyguard (that's what you've called Stefan since you arrived) and your sister have been living here for two weeks now. You haven't had a single message from Klaus during this time. Nothing. No threatening text messages, no drunken, desperate voicemails begging for your return, or at least one goddamn call. Nothing. Totally. You were more worried about his silence than if he was bombarding you with a thousand messages. You wondered how much of that was deliberate to scare you, and how much of it was possible that his sister had finally finished him off.

You shuddered at the thought that he might be dead.

"Are you cold?" Stefan's question was the only prejudice on his part until he threw the blanket over your shoulders. "It's not the time of year to think on the balcony at night, would you agree?"

"Maybe. But sometimes we do stupid things. Probably too much in my case." you tried to make a joke, but you met his worried look instead. "Come on. It was funny."

"That he used you and mentally abused you? You have a messed-up sense of humor."

"He didn't abuse me. He was just…"

"He treated you like a favorite toy, gradually restricting your access to the world and making you feel like you couldn't live without him. If you call it caring, you're going to go to New Orleans and rip out his cold heart, if only he has one."

"Don't talk like that. You know he would kill you before you even reached him."

"You sound like you still have feelings for him even after he tricked you into loving him and locked you in the gilded cage of New Orleans."

"Don't sound so offended. It's none of your business what I feel for him. I'm not your girlfriend, Stefan."

"No. But you used to be my princess." he replied bitterly.

"And yet, I truly wanted to be his queen. He didn't trick or fool me into loving him, Stefan. Everything I felt for him was real. I know this seems silly and naive to all of you, but… you didn't see him as he was when it was just the two of us. You didn't see the gaze he gave me every time he looked at me. He was so charming, loving, and caring, and with him I felt… free. Not for as long as we can see, but still. I felt like he was the only one for me."

"You can still come back to me. I never stopped loving you, Y/N. Not even a little bit. This nightmare can end right now. Just say a word."

"Stefan, you know I'll always love you." you began, taking his hand and looking into his eyes, feeling guilty for his hopeful look. "But I'm not in love with you anymore, and I don't know if I could be ever again. I'm so sorry, Stefan, but you deserve someone better than me. Someone who'll love you and adore you, who'll be a princess for your prince charming."

"I don't know if I'll ever find someone else I can love as much as you."

"Believe me, you'll find. One day on your way will appear some beautiful, less fucked up girl who will give the world to you, but… it won't be me, Stefan."

"How can you, after everything he's done to you, still care about him?"

"He's half of me, Stef. My worse half, I have to admit, but I can imagine myself with someone else. And maybe I'm stupid and blind and have too much hope in him, but I know that there is good in him. Maybe I can't reach him, but someday someone will. And everyone will see the man I fall in love with. Not his bad, terryfing a shell he created to protect a broken boy inside him." he leaned towards you placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

"I'm afraid you might not live to see that day, Y/N." he whispered, leaving me alone with my thoughts on the balcony.

You sighed, closing your eyes and feeling a single tear roll down your cheek. It would be so much easier to love Stefan than Klaus.

When I'm around you When I'm around you I don't feel together I don't feel together When I'm around you When I'm around you I don't feel together, no I don't feel together

"My sister is going to be so mad at me." I groaned, turning in his arms to bury my face in his pillow.

"Well. I wish your sister wasn't the first thought that comes to your mind after our first hot, long night together, but I can live with that as long as I have you in my bed."

"Don't make fun of me!" I tapped him on the arm, smiling as I heard his beautiful, carefree laugh. "This is a serious situation, Miakelson. If she knew I slept with you the same day I broke up with her boyfriend's brother, she'd gouge my eyes out."

"I think they were well aware of the tension between us. Beyond me is how you managed to stay faithful to him and not succumb to my charms earlier. You resisted bravely, love."

"What can I say? You followed me around until you finally begged. In hindsight, I should have let you chase me a little longer."

"So you like it when I beg? Should I get down on my knees then, for my queen, and beg her to let me please her again?"

"Insatiable bastard."

"Only for the touch and affection of my queen." I pulled away from him with a mischievous smirk, watching his face contort in feigned horror as his eyes still shone with pure amusement and happiness. "Oh, no... I know that smile. What did my cruel queen has in mind?"

"So, can I officially call you my boyfriend?" he groaned in embarrassment, pulling away from me and covering his face with a pillow.

I laughed as I climbed on top of him and removed the pillow from his face. I lay down on top of him, resting my chin on his chest, close to his collarbones. We stared at each other for a moment, completely infatuated with each other. After a while, Klaus reached out his hand and brushed my hair behind my ear. His hand slid from my cheek, over my shoulder, arm, and hand, until he stopped, playing with my fingers. He kissed each of my fingers before suddenly slipping something onto my ring finger.

I pulled my hand out of his grip, examining the new simple gold ring on my finger.

"Don't worry. It's not what you think. I'm not going to propose to you with some ordinary ring. You can trust me to go all the way, then."

"So what is it?"

"There were no such illogical, unstable phrases as boyfriend or girlfriend in my day. If two people liked each other, they usually courted each other. I believe in your day it's called a promise ring."

"Aside from the fact that you almost proposed to me, or at least declared your intentions to do so, and did one of the sweetest things in the world, are you implying that those looks and gifts and all that romantic talk and gestures weren't courtship?"

"Of course not. It was meant to arouse your love for me. Now I can confidently declare my feelings and devotion."

"As if you were holding yourself back or feeling insecure in any way."

"Was I too…"

"A little" I cut him off before he could finish. "But that's one of the reasons I felt for you. Now, kiss me and delight your queen, as you said earlier."

"As you wish, my love." he murmured, kissing me with all his fervor.

You woke up, looking around the room in disappointment. You've had these dreams ever since you left New Orleans. Flashbacks to those good times, when your self-interest was untainted by his problems and manipulations. When butterflies appeared in your stomach every time your skin touched.

You read in some stupid teenage magazine that it's safer to choose the boy who doesn't make you feel butterflies in your stomach. This one would keep you safe. However, knowing what awaits you as Klaus' girlfriend in New Orleans, would you change your decision? Probably not. Would you change your behavior? Definitely yes. You would never let him have that kind of control over you a second time.

You jumped out of bed abruptly as you felt nausea approaching for the fourth time this week. As you leaned over the toilet, you felt someone hold your hair and stroke your back. You relaxed, sensing Elena's presence behind you. When you finished and started brushing your teeth to get rid of that awful taste, you caught your sister's worried look in the mirror.

"What?" you asked, spitting toothpaste into the sink.

"Y/N, I don't think we can avoid this topic any longer." she sighed as she walked over to the bathroom cabinet and took out a rectangular package. She threw it in your direction. You frowned as you recognized what was currently in your hands.

"Are you crazy? Pregnancy test? Like, how could I be pregnant by a vampire?"

"Just do it for me. Please." she asked, looking at you with her most adorable pleading eyes.

"You're going crazy in your old age, but okay. I will grant your stupid request. But get out. I'm not going to pee in front of you."

My heart is broken I'm lying here My thoughts are choking on you my dear On you my dear On you my dear

Elena was right… you were pregnant.

You stared in disbelief at the positive pregnancy test, wondering how this could have happened.

Klaus was a vampire, so it was impossible for him to get you pregnant, but you stood in the bathroom crying over the positive test you had, at one point throwing it down the sink in panic.

Even if you were somehow magically pregnant with Klaus, this couldn't be happening right now. Not while you and he were standing on shaky ground in your relationship. Not when he acted like an obsessive bastard who would surely lock you in his room for 9 months or more after learning that a bun was in the oven for fear of something bad happening to you two.

However, despite everything, all you felt was an unimaginable longing for the father of your (possibly existing) child. He should be here, right next to you, you should rejoice with him about this news and it should be the happiest day of your life.

Instead of this, all you get was the cold, gold ring on your finger, which was making fun of your current situation. And the first tears, which were already dripping from your cheeks onto the floor.

But you decided to pull yourself together to make sure you weren't only concerned about yourself anymore.

"Elena! Can you call Bonnie?!"

When I'm around you When I'm around you I don't feel together I don't feel together When I'm around you When I'm around you I don't feel together, no I don't feel together

"I will open!" you screamed, jumping off the couch hoping it was the pizza you ordered.

You started making excuses a week ago, saying that the baby and you needed more food, and you ordered absolutely everything you wanted. Including fast food, chocolate, ice cream, and weird midnight cravings. To be honest, you were beginning to fear that one day you might want to drink blood, but that was a problem for another day. Now you had to get the pizza.

The problem is that when you opened the door, you saw someone completely different than the pizza delivery guy. Unless Klaus decided to make extra money and is a lousy pizza delivery guy.

"Hello, love."

Shit. You shouldn't text Rebekah that you need to meet. But hey! You thought the blonde had pacified him. So it was appropriate to inform any of the Mikaelsons that they were going to be uncles/aunt, wasn't it?

"Hi." his messy sight didn't make you feel any better. Apparently, this month has not been easy for him either.

"Can we… can we talk?"

"Talk. For obvious reasons, I have no intention of letting you into the house." you replied coldly, not thinking about making it easy for him. He screwed up, you will let him try to fix you two now.

"Of course. I wouldn't blame you at all if you slammed the door in my face." he replied, laughing, trying to lighten the situation somehow.

You raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed, which made him even more embarrassed. It's probably the first time you've seen him in such a precarious state. He always knew what to do and when to do it. Apparently, he must have really come here as quickly as he could, without any plan in mind. All right. At least you'll know his true intentions sooner.

"Honestly, I should probably do that. But I think we've long established that I don't usually do what I'm supposed to do. You have five minutes."

"Where to start here…"

"An apology would be fine. So is the story of how Elijah managed to get your mind back to normal after accusing everyone of treason and scheming behind your back."

"We both know you don't believe in empty words like sorry, but if you want to hear it, I'm more than ready to beg on my knees for your forgiveness, and that really means something, love. Besides, it wasn't my brother's doing. After you left, something in me... snapped. But the situation made it impossible for me to find you so quickly and try to make amends in any way."

"And what was that?"

"I couldn't believe what Elena told me, but apparently it's true." your conversation was interrupted by Stefan, who stood next to you in the doorway. Klaus winced as Salvatore put his arm around your shoulders, but didn't say a word.

"Stefan." Klaus greeted him coldly, completely surprising you that he hadn't tried to pounce on the younger vampire.

"Klaus. I knew you had some impudence, but I thought after 1000 years you'd learned any decency and you will left her alone."

"Stefan." you scolded him, breaking your eye contact with the hybrid for a moment.

"No, Y/N. You shouldn't be standing here talking to him, much less opening the door for him."

"Nobody, not even you, will tell me what to do." you growled, flicking his arm off of you, much to the original's relief and delight.

"Do you really care about him that much? Can't you just walk away from him?" Like you did from me. He forget to add. You saw this resentment in his eyes, and you couldn't blame him for it. He had a right to feel that way after you broke his heart.

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because he's going to be a father of my child." wow. It's very interesting how one sentence could make these two stunned.

"What?'

"Child?"

"Yes. In a very nutshell, as a half werewolf, you can have children. Surprise! You should start using some protection. Stefan, could you give us a second?" the shocked vampire obediently walked away, leaving you alone with the befuddled hybrid. "Are you okay? You look pale. Do vampires faint?"

"You're pregnant. With my baby."

"Yes, I thought we already established that."

"And you… do you want to keep it?"

"Yes and it would help if you didn't call our baby it."

"Try to put yourself in my position. This morning I was in New Orleans fighting with my siblings, Mikael and Esther and now…"

"Wait. What? Your parents? What happend? Are you okay?" in your concern, you didn't even notice that you had left the house. You were standing in front of him and touching his face, looking for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine, love. I'm perfectly fine now." he murmured, leaning against your hand, absorbing every ounce of touch you were giving him.

You sighed, resting your forehead against his, letting yourself get lost in the familiar scent of his perfume for a moment. The mere fact that he didn't move an inch to touch you made you believe in his sincere desire to repair your relationship (as well as irritating that even though he was so close, you still had a long way to go to reunite.)

"Don't even think those sweet eyes of yours will make me forget what happened. You're going to have to do your best to make up for the fact that instead of talking to me about your concerns, you decided to make sure I didn't abandon you by making me as dependent on you as possible."

"So you still think my eyes are sweet?"

"Shut up." I murmured. Klaus pulled away from you so he could see your face. His serious expression dispelled the playful mood beetwen you two.

"I love you, Y/N. I'll do anything to get you to trust me again, but until that happens, we'll do everything on your terms. I'll buy you whatever house you want, a car, a dog, a cat—name a thing and you'll get it. I will make sure that you and our child do not lack anything. Even if you decide we shouldn't be together."

"You must really want me if you're ready to buy me a cat."

"I remember you arguing with me that they were Satan's spawn." he rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around my waist tentatively. I hugged him to me, allowing this small expression of tenderness between us. I missed him just like that.

"I think you're exaggerating it a bit, love. I called them my natural enemies."

"Of course, wolfie." I said, hugging him again.

Maybe, together, we do feel right after all.

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