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jolalibrary · 1 year ago

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vii. oh oh oh, the sweetest thing

javier peña x f!reader | chapter seven of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: fluff. flirting. alludes to smut. sinful thoughts. continuous romcom vibes. an: javi and reader, sitting on a bed... ;) also new theme, slightly amended banner. wordcount: 3.4k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Javi wakes to cold sheets beside him.

He stretches his arm out—and for a moment—he forgets where he is. Expecting to hear his alarm, feel the bobbles from his overly worn bedsheet.

That is until he catches the scent of sweet shampoo, perfume and—

Flipping his eyes open, he then hears the rustling.

His senses come back to him as he slowly sits up, spotting you immediately at the foot of the bed.

Compared to yesterday, you’re dressed so formally: fitted trousers, a shirt and a jacket. Your leg doing a twist, head bent—as he assumes—you’re trying to slide your foot into your shoe quietly.

There’s minimal light fluttering into the room, all courtesy of your suitcase pushing against the heavy hotel curtains to allow enough to dress yourself. With it now allowing a slither of sunlight to creep over your face, lighting up the shades in your eyes—the ones he swears he’ll see forever when he dreams.

The sunlight illuminates your lips—the ones he’d spent hours tasting last night—now having the chance to admire as they slide into a smile, eyes widening at the sight of him.

“Morning—“

“Shh,” you whisper, brows dipping. “Go back to sleep, baby. It’s so early.”

Stretching out his legs, he runs a hand over his face. “I’ll go back to my room.”

“No, it’s okay, stay. Please. Just get up when you’re ready,” you offer. “Plus, if you move and I see any more of you, I’m not going to want to leave.”

Softly, he feels a smirk slide up his cheek. “That so?”

Moving around the bed, he curls into your touch as it brushes through his hair—sparking memories of nails, your mouth pressed to his cheek as you begged him for more—before your lips kissed the side of his mouth.

“Fuck. Forgot how much I like your voice.”

“Didn’t get your fill of it last night?”

Mirroring him, you smirk a bit more.

His hand snakes up your wrist, keeping you here—just a bit longer. Feeling your eyes dart from one of his to the other, your grin broadening as his thumb traces a square on your skin.

“Go to sleep. I’ll call you at lunch and let you know how I’m getting on.”

Your face is so close it’s easy to kiss you. Deepening it, letting your mouth part as he tastes mint on your tongue, his hand sliding up—

You pull back, humming as you tap your fingers against your lips. “I’ll be late.”

“I can be quick.”

Shaking your head, smirking. You move back from the bed. “I’ll see you later.”

Grinning, he lies back down, an arm flopping over his eyes. “You don’t mind me in your room?”

Pausing as you pick up your bag, you shoot him a look—one where your smile is across your entire face, not just your mouth. “I trust you. Plus, I have the important stuff, ID, money. And, if you were to steal anything, as handsome as you are, I doubt you can pull off my jean jacket, or some of the other things I've packed.”

Laughing, he shakes his head. "Have a good day, cariño."

“Try not to miss me, baby.”

There wasn’t duplicate sales, someone just can’t do their job correctly.

if you were back home I’d call them an idiot but since it brought you here

Valid point. I’m still annoyed that it took me longer to get in the building than it did me figuring it out.

Could have had longer in bed.

for sleeping

Probably not. This handsome man has me waking up early to talk to him as he starts his day.

It’s reprogrammed my internal clock.

he must be really nice for you to let him do that

He’s okay.

fuck hermosa

He’s got nice hands though. And lips.

has he now

Yeah, don’t think I could tell him to his face that I don’t think my legs have ever shaken that much.

can’t wait to make them shake again

Yeah that was obvious this morning, charmer.

cant blame a man when you look the way you do baby

Stop I can’t smile like that right now.

Few more hours and I’ll be getting a cab back, will let you know when I’m back, then just need to change and then I’m yours.

I can pick you up

It’s fine, work will pay so let’s make them.

You remind him again that you’ll knock for him before getting changed.

Call for him. Like the two of you were teens ready to hang out until the sun goes down—something he found endearing and quite funny, all at once.

you wanna ask my pop if i can stay out past curfew too You’re hilarious. But I can do. I’d love to talk to your Pop. worryingly i think hed love to talk to you Did you ever make curfew? do I strike you as someone who didn't You strike me as someone who would work around the curfew, be technically on the land at the right time continuing the hang in the barn or something.

Through texts, you’d seemed in high spirits.

But when you reached his door, blasted with manufactured orange light from his room, Javi took one look at you and realised how much of a front that had been.

He barely knew you, yet he spotted how stress sat behind your smile and how your face was twisted into a fake version of the expression he saw yesterday.

“You fancy staying in tonight?”

It was why Javi was staring over the room service menu. Hearing you shower, cancelling the reservation he’d made earlier, listening as the water fell into the base (one thin wall away) as he placed the phone back on the hook.

Trying not to think of your body—of soap suds sliding down your perfect skin and how it was likely bending and twisting as you showered.

He tries not to think about the kiss, too.

The one you’d given him, arm looped around his neck when he suggested staying in, ordering room service and finishing a crossword. It had taken a moment, his eyes jumping from one eye to the next as he assessed whether he’d said something dumb or smart.

Your kiss confirmed the latter. Gratitude thrummed through it as you cupped his cheek—thank you, thank you, thank you, etching into him as he pulled your hips flush to him. Almost ready to pull you into his room when you’d mumbled about needing a shower.

That had been half an hour ago.

Now, he watched as you stepped out through steam, face fresh—black tee he could see the outline of your nipples through and a pair of yoga pants that made him almost choke when you bent over to pop something in your case.

"You alright?"

Swallowing, he shifts on the bed, tilting his head. "Yeah, hermosa. You just look..."

He prefers letting his voice trail off. Watching it flicker across your face, the embarrassment. It starts with your hands coming across your front, your weight shifting, before your eyes find it difficult to meet his.

“I never asked," he says, changing the conversation, feeling the warmth of your eyes snap back to him. "Your friend, Aish? Is it? She not have anything to say about you flying miles to meet a man you don’t know?”

You smile something wicked. “A few words, but..."

"But?"

Licking your lips, you look down at your feet. "I think she could see how happy I was. When I was talking to you. Think, like me, she just hoped you were who you said you were.”

Javi brushes his hand over his jaw, trying to fight the grin. The same one you constantly pull from him, his cheeks hurting from it happening so frequently all in one go.

“You put her mind at rest, baby?”

“Oh yeah. First chance I got.”

Moving to sit next to him, he hears the faint rumblings of your stomach. Something you quickly apologise for. And something you apologise for unnecessarily again a second or two later. His hand on your knee, drawing circles on the fabric covering it, hoping it assures you, relaxes you as he tells you as much.

“I don’t… I guess I don’t do things like this,” you say. “I’m not impulsive. I’m sensible—have to be. I don’t really have anyone, or thing, else if it all goes wrong, you know? And then you came along. And while my brain was telling me to be careful, the rest of me was just so sure this was…”

“Right?”

“Yeah,” you smile.

“So you’re glad?”

“If my stomach weren't about to begin eating itself, I’d show you how glad. But, Javi, truthfully, I wouldn't let you be in my room again if I wasn't.”

Allowing you to lean into him as you flick down at the menu, he presses a kiss to your cheek. “Good to know.”

Even if his original plans had been dashed, Javi still had plans to rid your body of the stress from your workday.

The alternative, he found, was just as pleasant.

After the two of you ate on the floor, you both moved to the bed to attempt the next crossword. Four answers were written before he found you in his arms, talking—sharing.

He learned more about your job, your place, and how you’d had a pet when you were younger.

Then, somewhere between sharing about music, movies and how good you were at Monopoly, you were curled against him, softly sleeping.

He could have moved, but he deep down he hadn't wanted to. Enjoying feeling your body rising and falling, your room rotating the smell of room service and your perfume in equal amounts.

He thought about your laugh from earlier when he told you about a horse trying to throw him off. The way his chest had flooded with warmth when you told him about how often you’d thought of him at work today.

It’s perfect. All of this. You.

It makes the corners of his lips slide up as he hears you take a sleep-filled sigh against him, your arm remaining tightly looped around his waist.

His eyes fall to the crossword—the one you’d attempted to complete—and was now close to falling off the foot of the bed. The previous days all filled in, block letters staring at him. Not even bothered in himself that he hadn’t managed to finish today.

Instead, he just focused on how nice it was having you against him. How he'd wanted this, before he even knew what you looked like. Had imagined your body is shaped and curled against his, but it hadn't even been close to this.

This, like you, was more perfect than his mind could conjure. Your knee currently between his, fitting perfectly—just like you do in every other aspect.

It's why he hasn't stopped running his fingers up and down your arm, surrendering to his position—not that he’s complaining. If anything, he never wants to move.

He had tried, initially. His brain worrying about what you'd do when you woke. Javi had attempted to rise up and tuck you in, but your hand simply clutched him closer, all unwilling to let him move.

He thinks about leaving every ten minutes, as though revolving. Only settling when his nose is re-flooded with the scent of your shampoo and perfume, making it harder to stop thinking the second thought on rotation.

The one which had slammed into him at the airport—the one which had been born some weeks back, bubbling inside him ever since—began rising up in his chest again, in his throat…

He likes you. Really likes you.

To the point, he’s not sure if he’ll be okay when he has to let you go. When he has to say goodbye and leave you at the airport departures.

Simply wanting languid kisses under bed sheets, your body under him, his fingers brushing your cheeks as he feels your laugh against his palm.

He wants more than a handful of days. Allowing himself to think it, acknowledge it, now he knows you're real.

Swallowing, he glances down at you—taking in the bow of your lips, the way your lashes sit on your upper cheek, and he relents. Just for a moment.

Instead, he rests his chin on the top of your head, letting his eyes close as he continues to slide his fingers up and down your arm.

He wasn’t meant to fall asleep. Javi had just meant to rest his eyes.

But he wakes to darkness, a slither of light peering through the closed curtains, with you very much beside him still. Your eyes closed, head on his chest, your own rising and falling as gently as earlier.

But the light had been on then.

A thought that hooks the edge of his lips, tugging it up. Because you would have needed to get up and turn it off, before climbing back into bed again. Moving under the duvet—likely whispering to him to do the same, because he too is now under it.

He lifts it tentatively, seeing that he’s still fully clothed, spotting that when you switched off the light, you’d also changed from your work clothes into a satin top and pair of shorts.

You’d wanted him here.

Javi beams. Broader than he's allowed himself to let grace his face. One that quickly, almost immediately, blossoms into a grin. One he continued to wear as he closed his eyes, pulling you closer—finding you do so with ease as he settled back down.

The next time he opens his eyes, he finds you struggling to cram in the few things you’d removed from your suitcase. The one you’d packed—like you were staying for a month.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he allows himself a moment—hearing the quiet, disgruntled grumbling coming from you as you push down on it as hard as you can.

“Want a hand?”

“No, no,” you protested, wiping your arm over your forehead. “All good.”

Nodding, he gets up to use your bathroom, back cracking as he does. After he's washed his hands, he splashes cold water on his face, staring at himself in the mirror—seeing the usual dark bags under his eyes, now appear fainter.

In truth, he wasn’t sure when the last time was that he’d slept as well as he had done the past two nights.

It niggling at him as turns the tap off, drying his hand, before he runs his fingers through his hair. Shelving the thought, the realisation, as he opens the door to be greeted with the same grumbles and sweet perfume.

One thing he does hope, is that your scent buries itself into his clothes, skin, and bones. Mainly, he hopes this isn't the only time he can see you, or be around you.

Something he thinks as he leans against the wall, folding his arms, trying not to laugh watching you give your case another few shoves. After several more quick and successive presses down, you look up at him, giving him the most wounded, puppy-like look.

“Okay, please help me.”

His knees groan as he gets down on them, pressing down on the suitcase lid—nodding to you to try the zip as it budges. The process continues, your fingers occasionally poking in the odd item that attempts to stick out—the heel of a shoe, the edge of the jean jacket you were in on the day he met you, and lace.

“So, I was thinking….”

Javi lifts his eyes, finding that yours are already on him.

“Did you…. want to share a room, maybe? Like, for the next few nights—I totally understand if you don’t want—”

“Baby,” he says, softly, full of please breath and assurance, as he leans back on his knees. “Are you sure?”

Nodding, biting your lip, your fingers slide over him on the suitcase. “I mean… we already have been, right? And, honestly, I hated even leaving you yesterday. Honestly, I… I don’t want to lose any more time with you than I already have.”

“Me too.”

It’s like an eclipse, the way you grin. Smothering over your worrying. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Lifting your case for you from being flat, you take the handle, continuing to grin before you follow behind him as you leave. His hand reaches behind, taking your fingers as the two of you head to his.

Half of him, not wanting to let go, see if he can grab his things with one hand while the other stays connected with yours. But he lets go, for speed, quickness, as he collects the things he managed to unpack in the room he's barely been in—never mind slept in.

Something you must realise, an apology hitting the air. Shifting on the spot at the door as he darts around.

Then, it's apology after apology. Different versions of the same thing, explanations that weren't necessary, because he didn't mind.

Something he also says.

It continues in the elevator, down to the small reception desk. The one more cramped, if that was even possible, than the first day they arrived. Your whispered reasons as to why you owe him made him slowly smile.

You didn’t even get to sleep in your bed, happened to be his favourite. Because if you took a breath to ask him what he'd choose, he’d always choose to sleep in the bed you were in.

“To make it up to you, let me buy the other nights. Work covered the two necessary for them, so it hasn’t cost—“

His hand slides over your cheek, face forced to look up at him, blemished with curiosity that relaxes into simmering disbelief.

A look he now suspects is on your face plenty of times when the two of you talk. That disbelief, the one unsure how someone could make you smile, makes you easily relax.

He knows because it’s something he thinks himself. He’s just not sure if his expression looks similar to yours.

“Hermosa, stop apologising—“

“—I can’t ask you to. You already picked me up from the airport—”

“Cariño, please—

“—And you paid for dinner the first night, and—“

“Baby.”

That word does it.

It makes you pause and swallow. Eyes focusing on him.

“Baby, listen to me. I’ve already spent upwards of triple digits falling for you, and I don't care. So, lemme pay for the hotel room so I can show you how far I’ve fallen.”

You're torn. He sees it immediately on your face from the way it ripples across your face.

Some part of you all unwilling to let him. A part he hopes to kiss away as he presses another kiss to your temple, softer, hanging there a second longer until he pulls back.

“I’ve got this, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper. “But, I’ll buy—“

He kisses you.

Realising as he does, it’s the only way to silence you. Feeling you melt, then you smile, before your fingers come up along his neck, little touches, and then nails, before you pull back.

“You should… pay for the room now,” you say, lips twitching, a smirk wishing to bloom.

“That so?”

Nodding, you bite your lower lip. “I know you saw the things I packed in my suitcase, Javi.”

Tracing his lower lip with his thumb, he smirks, slowly—before nodding.

Turning to face the desk, he presses the bell once, twice, thrice—all insistent as you snigger by his side. He’s about to press it again, almost shouting to call someone, when he feels you nudge him—moving closer, arm coming around his waist as he feels his cheeks warm as you stare up at him.

Fuck, you’re beautiful.

“I’m taking you out tonight, too. Just so you know.”

Narrowing your eyes, you give him a lopsided smile as you swallow. “Can I pay half?”

“You can argue with me about it. Yeah,” he says, kissing your forehead before hammering his palm on the bell all over again.

an: thank you for all the love on this, i can't even put into words how much i appreciate it and you. this chapter i was dreading, as it sets up so much for the next, but i hope it was worth it, as always xx

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sebastianswallows · 9 months ago

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The English Client — Three

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: just Tom perving on reader

— WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

Tom had a number of other establishments on his list, all in further parts of the city that he hadn’t been to yet, but he decided to start the day where the previous one had ended: Casa Ur. If asked, he probably couldn’t answer why. Or perhaps he could give many answers: it was the closest of the promising ones relative to his hotel; it was in one of the oldest parts of the city; it occupied a sizable plot and seemed full from floor to roof with books… All adequate justifications in his mind.

He stepped through its oak doors — which were heavy but feeble around the hinges, windows trembling within their frames — and a bell announced him. He was struck first of all by how cold and dark it was inside. Some marvellous trick of architecture seemed to insulate the shop from what went on at its exterior. The part of him accustomed to the Slytherin common room felt right at home there. Tom hissed in pleasure.

He cast his eyes around before he took another step, and found his decision to come there thoroughly justified: shelves stocked up to the ceiling so high he had to crane his neck. They stood as tightly packed as could be, their covers with a sturdy sheen to them that wasn’t seen in modern books. If there were forgeries among them, they were well concealed. Smaller editions were tucked wherever a space could be found on top of bigger volumes. Some larger books, so big the shelves wouldn’t have held them, were laid out horizontally on tables here and there. To the left, he could see a large open door that showed more of the same beyond it. To the right, a crimson curtain — probably the clerk’s office.

There was something to see everywhere. In the vitrines were all manner of assorted trinkets, old photographs and jewels and medals, the leftovers of nobility. Against the walls, tall paintings of ruins, fortresses, and kings. A phonograph held pride of place on a pedestal between two lamps, and crystal chandeliers hung over everything, unlit yet still silently shining.

And in the middle of it, her.

The clerk was a woman, a prim and pretty figure with her hair pinned up, her body fastened in a pale grey suit. Her pointy shoes were fixed to the floor in a half-abandoned step. She stood before her desk like a rabbit surprised outside its burrow. If he had any self-awareness, Tom would have noted that she looked at him in much the same way as he looked at the books.

“Buongiorno,” said Tom tentatively. “Cerco un libro.”

“Buongiorno,” she said, smiling instantly. “And erm, it’s alright, we can speak in English.”

“Ah. Is it that obvious?”

Her cheeks filled with a teasing smile, and she eyed him knowingly. If it wasn’t his accent, his complexion certainly gave him away.

“Well, it takes one to know one, I suppose,” she said.

Tom hummed and looked her up and down once more.

“So, what book are you looking for?”

“What do you have?”

“Books on a wide range of topics, from gothic novels to books of hours, and the largest collection of incunabula for sale in Rome. We keep only the rarest, the oldest editions,” she said with a measure of pride and joy.

He stepped closer, looking more closely at the volumes on the shelves as he passed them by. She stepped forth to meet him, observing him all the while.

“I’m looking for Isis Unveiled, volumes one and two. The older the better,” he said, naming an ordinary book of esoterica off the top of his head. He wanted first to test her knowledge and the breadth of her collection.

She smiled immediately, her eyes shining.

“By Helena Blavatsky? We have her, although I’m not sure we keep any first editions here. One moment, please. I will check.”

She hardly finished saying it before she turned and stepped through that imposing door on the left.

Tom followed her at a respectable distance, hand tucked casually in his trouser pocket. The darkness and the coolth around them, the tall heavy furniture, the echoing of steps against old wood, it all made him feel so comfortable and safe. It was nothing like the cluttered mess at Borgin and Burkes, where you could hardly walk for fear of tripping over something.

He stepped through the doorway after her. A broad table dominated the centre of this new room, holding an array of decorative lamps. Ladders reached up into the darkness by the bookcases that lined the walls. She pulled one toward her.

“So if you don’t keep first editions here, where do you keep them?”

“It’s not that we don’t keep any firsts, just not sure if we have hers,” she said as she began to climb. “I shall take a look anyway.” It was a clever evasion, not telling him if they had any other shops, or perhaps a secret storage place somewhere.

She went up and up the rows, all unmarked in any way, with surety. Tom had to admire her familiarity with the place, her naked knowledge. He could assume by now that she’d worked there for a while, but there was no way she was the owner. Too young, and as a foreigner, she was unlikely to have inherited it.

He held the ladder for her. The higher she went, the less Tom saw of her — and the more he saw of her. Those dainty leather shoes showed their soles to him, and above, her legs stretched on. Calves flexed in their silky stockings, disappearing in the tightness of her skirt like snakes. The slit of her skirt showed a hint of the back of her thighs every time she took a step upward, and then hid it again. It was the most cruel sort of striptease, and Tom felt its effects pool warmly at the centre of his abdomen.

“Nineteen twenty-one,” she said.

“What?”

“Our oldest edition. Is that good enough?”

“I’m… not sure. May I see it?”

She pulled out the first volume and gingerly climbed down with it until she was a few steps above the floor, and from there bent and handed it to Tom. He was close enough to feel the scent of the back of her knees. Dust and sweat and bergamot, delicious flesh.

“Ahem, thank you,” he said, parting the pages. He caught in passing the glimpse of a ring on her finger, a heavy signet carved into carnelian. It took a few moments for his mind to catch up on what he was reading. “This is in French,” he frowned.

“It’s the oldest of hers we have,” she shrugged, holding onto the railing like a wild nymph. “We have other books of hers if you prefer. I saw a copy of The Voice of the Silence, first edition, 1889.”

Tom hummed thoughtfully as he looked into her eyes. She squirmed at the attention.

“There are a few other places that might have it,” she said, twisting the tip of her shoe against the steps playfully. “But I’m not sure if they take just any clients. Most first editions of such authors are in private collections.”

“You know that for a fact?”

“I do.”

Tom smiled and brought the book closer for his inspection. His fingertips caressed the cover, testing its make. The pages were thick, the writing clear. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp scent, then held several pages in his hand and slowly let them cascade from beneath his thumb, his ear held close.

“It’s not a forgery,” she giggled, realising what he was doing.

“Just checking,” Tom smiled up at her. He held onto the ladder with one hand and gave her back the book. “Thank you.”

She nodded and climbed back, putting it in its place.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t satisfy,” she said on her way up.

“You might yet,” he purred, letting his eyes wander. “A list of those other bookshops might be handy.”

She gazed down at him, and even in the darkness of her high perch he could tell that she was blushing. She held her legs closer together as she climbed back down.

“I never said I could tell you who they were,” she teased once she stood before him, brushing a stray curl away with the back of her hand. “Most are quite exclusive.”

Tom looked into her eyes a moment, a cold smile on his face. It made her tense. With the quick prodding of Legilimency, he could tell that she wasn’t saying something untrue, but there was slightly more to it — more than even she was privy to. Shadows in her knowledge that she was well aware of.

“Quite unfair,” he said.

“It’s a small circle, Mr…”

“Riddle. Tom Riddle.”

“Well, Mr. Riddle, could I have your number?”

“What?”

“In case I find that book you’re looking for. I will make some inquiries.”

“Ah, well… I’m staying at the Gallienus, for now.”

She nodded and walked past him, going out of the room and toward her writing desk. Tom followed.

He looked once more around at the books. So many of them… And she seemed to know where each author was by heart. It must’ve been a challenge to work in a place like that if she was telling the truth and these groups were more ‘exclusive’. He doubted any real witchcraft took place in any of them, but it seemed that muggles still had their pride. His glance slid back to her, just enough to catch her bent over for a second as she wrote his hotel down.

“Is there anything else I could help you with?” she asked, straightening herself — only to catch him staring. She glared.

“Not right now,” Tom smiled, then turned to leave. “Thank you.”

He could feel her eyes at the back of his neck, a trembling chill while the sun beat against his face as he approached the door. With a quick breath and a pause, he pivoted to look at her again.

“Oh yes, there was something I wanted to ask.”

She held his gaze, her eyes inscrutable.

“I’m also looking for something a little older. Say, from around 1650?”

“We have even older than that.”

“Specifically, something by Aristide Torchia.”

“Most of his works were burned by the Holy Inquisition...”

“So you don’t have anything by him? Nor any of his… friends?”

“Torchia didn’t have any friends,” she chuckled.

“He had at least one,” Tom shrugged.

She smiled slowly, knowingly. He liked that look on her. “Why do you ask?”

“Just out of curiosity, really,” Tom shrugged. “I know it is being sought after in France by some collectors. Thought I might as try my luck. But, as you say, it’s a long shot.”

“If I come across it,” she said, lifting the note with his hotel up.

“Yes, you know where to find me,” Tom smirked. “Well, arrivederci.”

“Arrivederci, signor Riddle.”

Tom was at his third coffee, another one of the sacrifices he had to make for Borgin. The buzzing of couples and merchants and passing Vespas cluttered what would have been a serene scenery of tall white statutes, proud buildings, crumbling columns holding it all together. An inspiring sight even for a cynic like him.

But he was there with a purpose.

She left work at half past five, closing the door behind her and locking it in several places. The windows had only darkness behind them then, the writing on them faded gold. Tom abandoned his cold coffee and threw a few lire on the table. He got up to pursue her. Dipping between narrow buildings, he quickly pulled his wand out and obscured himself. A part of him wanted her to see him, to know that he was there, but perhaps they could play cat and mouse a little later.

Her grey figure swayed left and right, quick steps through the alley, high heels hitting the cobblestones leaving small echoes behind. Fully clothed, even in this weather, the nape of her neck was the only naked skin he could see. The sheer stockings didn’t count; they obscured the flesh of her calves in a honeyed gauze that, although sweet, didn’t satisfy him. Her pinned hair sat tightly at the crown of her head, a few loose curls trembling in the breeze.

He walked with her, waited with her, sat with her, all of it just a few paces away. It was a novel experience, to walk with someone like that. It was different than with Clement, who was like a fly he couldn’t swat. This felt like… companionship. Like a silent friendship the sort of which he hadn’t had since childhood, if ever.

She was different here from how she was when they met face to face. Staring out of invisible eyes, Tom noticed just how drained she looked, how exhausted, almost angry. Her lips were pulled into a low and dour line, her brows were slightly furrowed, and her eyes had a delicate sadness about them the sort he’d only read about in books. Had her good cheer at seeing him all been just an act? Perhaps she was just that talented a saleswoman… There was, after all, a certain amount of emotional labour involved in any client-facing job. Tom knew all about it.

He got to see a new side of Rome while travelling with her. Less touristy, more quotidian, more quiet — or perhaps the better word was ‘dull’. The rickety tram she took, the piss-stained streets she walked, the crumbling building she lived in, were not the worst Tom had ever seen… But if he was being honest, he’d expected better. There was something of Knockturn Alley about the place.

From the sparkling piazza surrounded by monuments and statues like a quiet lake between the mountains, the architecture contracted and modernised. A strange counterpose of industry and squalor grew — closer and closer together. Façades cracking, windows smogged, the scent of animal blood in the air. Tom could no longer point out where the claustrophobic feeling started, but he was in the vortex of it by the time he stood outside her window.

There was a cellar bar just across the street, and patrons had already begun to sing inside. Their warbled voices reached him like cries from hell. Beside it, an empty restaurant that advertised a hostel on the upper floor. A bit further on the street, an old bookshop, boarded up. Pigeons flew in flocks overhead and between the windows of other flats above hung wires heavy with white laundry.

Everything seemed very… entrepreneurial. Just locals filling in the void left by an indifferent Rome. They seemed like parts of different cities, although one was merely the outgrowth of the other containing the people that fell over the sides. It was at once both loud and quiet. Filled with people, filled with nothing.

The thought of her living here made his nose curl — or maybe it was the scent of urine coming from the bar. Tom ignored the memory of his own pathetic lodgings near Borgin and Burkes.

He turned and looked around once more, and tried to remember where the tram line was.

#Tom Riddle #Tom Riddle x reader #Tom Riddle x OC #Tom Riddle fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;made a thing #fanfic;englishclient

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munson-blurbs · 6 months ago

Text

@corrodedcoffinfest Day 15: Let's Talk About That

Word Count: 877/Rating: T/Pairing: None/CW: mention of vomiting and getting sick (not described), stage fright, takes place in 2024, older Corroded Coffin, loosely based on Joseph Quinn's Tonight Show experience/Tags: Eddie Munson, Jeff, Grant, Gareth, talk show, flashbacks

Divider credit to @silkholland

“Our next guests need no introduction,” Jimmy Fallon says from where he sits at his desk. “They’ve been rocking the heavy metal scene since the ‘80s, and their newest album comes out this Friday. Please welcome—Corroded Coffin!”

Eddie, Grant, Jeff, and Gareth make their way from behind the blue curtain, giving the cheering audience a polite wave. Nerves flutter in Eddie’s stomach as he takes a seat on the spot closest to the host. Talk shows have never been his strong suit; he’s not exactly known for his smooth lines. He much prefers songwriting, where he can edit and erase until each lyric is perfected.

“Great to see you guys,” Jimmy says. “This is a busy time for you, isn’t it?”

Eddie nods, scratching at the gray stubble on his jaw. “Yeah, so, our tenth album drops on Friday, and tickets for our tour go on sale next week.”

The crowd cheers again, only quieting down as Jimmy asks the guys more questions about their upcoming shows and the creative process behind this album.

“We’re a lot older than we were when we started out,” Grant jokes, “so there’s more stretching involved.”

“Yeah, now we warm up our vocal cords and our quads,” Jeff chimes in.

Their banter earns a laugh from the audience, as well as one of Jimmy’s signature over-the-top cackles.

Okay, Eddie thinks. This is good. This is fine. We’re getting through this.

“Speaking of your younger years,” Jimmy says, “my producers found a clip from your first-ever Tonight Show appearance, way back in 1989.”

Oh, no. No.

The host looks directly at Eddie as he grins and says, “let’s have a look.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and hopes it’s all a bad dream. To his dismay, the clip is rolling when he dares to open his eyes again.

A screen displays the guys sitting there, 35 years younger than they are now, and listening intently as Johnny Carson asks them questions. Well, three of them were listening—Eddie was as white as a sheet, sweating bullets and trying not to hurl.

“Now, Eddie, I understand that you wrote most of the songs on this record.” Johnny leans in, forearm on his desk. “Was there something—or someone—who inspired you?”

“Well, um, th-there’s my uncle. He’s, y’know, always s-supported me.” Eddie plays with the frayed tear in his jeans. Sweat drips down his temples and pools at his collarbones. “And then some of the, um, angrier stuff is about, um, m-my dad, and, like, assholes at school—shit, can I say ‘assholes’? Oh, fuck; I probably can’t say ‘shit,’ either.”

Jimmy cuts the clip and turns back to where Jeff, Gareth, and Grant are poorly stifling their laughter. Meanwhile, Eddie is hoping the ground will open up and swallow him whole.

“Let’s talk about that.” Jimmy grins. “You seemed a little nervous there.”

Eddie nods, willing the redness away from his cheeks. “Yeah, it was our first talk show, so…”

Gareth shakes his head. “Nah, that’s not what happened.” Ignoring Eddie’s scowl, he plunges ahead. “This idiot was complaining about a stomach ache all day and didn’t eat. We go out to dinner before the show and we finally convince him to eat something. Tell them what you chose, Ed.”

“I, um, decided to eat oysters,” Eddie mumbles, silently vowing to kill his drummer.

Jimmy raises his eyebrows. “Why oysters?”

“That’s what we said!” Jeff speaks up. “He’d never had them before, and he chose that moment to down, like, a pound of them.”

“He can’t even look at an oyster now without getting nauseous,” Grant adds.

Jimmy brings the focus back to a now-humiliated Eddie. “So what happened after the show?”

“Nothing.” Eddie shrugs. “Went back to the hotel room and relaxed.”

“Oh, nuh-uh.” Gareth cuts in, wearing a shit-eating grin. “Tell him what happened before that.”

Eddie has to stop himself from lunging across the couch and strangling Gareth right there. He wants to play it off as nothing, but the audience is already too invested.

Better to hear it from me, he thinks.

“Well, on the way back to the hotel, I bumped into a fan. Gorgeous young woman with a huge…heart.” He clears his throat. “Anyway, she asks for an autograph and invites me out for a drink. And I’m not gonna say no to that.”

Eddie rakes his fingers through his hair and continues. “So we go to this fancy bar, we’re sipping our drinks, and I’m about to close this deal. And then—”

“And then a waiter walks by with a tray of oysters, and Eddie just books it outta there!” Gareth nearly falls out of his seat trying to finish the story. “Like, Olympic sprinting.”

“I didn’t know he could run that fast,” Jeff muses.

Jimmy shakes his head. “You guys better hope that he doesn’t tell any of your embarrassing moments.”

Eddie perks up at this. “Actually, Jimmy, that’s not a bad idea.” He glances over at Gareth, the one who started this crusade to embarrass Eddie on national television. “Have you heard about Gareth’s Explosive Diarrhea Fiasco of 1996?”

“Eddie, you wouldn’t dare—”

“It all started when someone thought it was a good idea to participate in a chili-eating contest before we played the Indiana State Fair…”

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #fanfic #corroded coffin #corroded coffin fest #gareth emerson #jeff corroded coffin #grant corroded coffin

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idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 · 2 years ago

Text

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

Tagging: @ryanpulock @suitandtys

Relationship: Andrei x Kat

Word Count: 2.6k

Comments: I wrote this specifically for Katie and Tiff and the anon messages I got about how Kat told Andrei he’s gonna be a dad, so here it is 😌 Drei is officially in his DILF era in the When it Gets Crisp in the Fall universe! I had way too much fun writing and writing them again and hmmm maybe keep your eyes peeled for more Kat and Drei in the future 👀

Andrei instinctively reached out to Kat when he woke up, the Florida sun peaking between the hotel curtains. But instead of his girlfriend’s soft skin, he found cold sheets and he frowned as he opened his eyes. The bed was empty which forced him to lift his head and look around, his eyes were still blurry with sleep and his hair was messy from the long night before.

“Kisa?” He asked as he rolled onto his back.

“Right here,” Kat smiled. The hotel robe was wrapped loosely around her and her hair fell messily around her shoulders while she curled up on the couch with a cup of coffee in her hand. Despite how long the night before had been, between the game in Buffalo and flying out to South Florida and everything that happened after… Kat had still woken up early that morning needing to throw up the contents of her stomach, another reminder of the baby she was growing, the baby Andrei still didn’t know she was pregnant with.

It had been a week since she found out. At the time, she was supposed to go out to dinner with Andrei, Elena, Geno, and Geno’s girlfriend, but after a long day of nausea, she just couldn’t muster it, the thought of dinner making her stomach twist enough she went running to the bathroom, again.

Being pregnant honestly wasn’t even on her mind despite them actively trying since November. Between work and the team playing so well and Andrei going back to the All-Star Game and Elena being in town, Kat really didn’t have the time to think about herself. Plus, a bug always seemed to go around the team at least once a season so she had brushed everything off as a stomach bug she just couldn’t shake for the last month.

It was only when she went rummaging through the bathroom cabinet looking for more antinausea medication that she stumbled onto the several packs of pregnancy tests she had bought when they were on sale back in November and she froze, the gravol abandoned as she took a sharp breath in and picked a box up.

Nausea, vomiting, swollen, sensitive breasts, fatigue, mood swings, no… no period.

“Oh my God,” she whispered to herself and gripped the edge of the bathroom sink to steady herself. Could she? Could she really?

Her hands shook as she opened the box and took both tests out before hurrying to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. She knew it was supposed to be taken in the morning, but she had to know now, and if it was negative, well, then she would try again in the morning.

It took way too long for her to have to pee and she paced up and down the hall until she had to, and then it was the longest three minutes of her life as she waited for the results, her hands still shaking.

But sure enough, they were both positive. She was pregnant. She was pregnant with Andrei’s baby.

They were having a baby.

Part of her wanted to tell him as soon as he got home. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and tell him they were having a baby, that he was going to be a dad, but she didn’t. They were a week away from their second anniversary and they were going back to the All-Star Game where they had first gotten together. It would be perfect to tell him then, so Kat had to restrain herself.

So, instead of telling him as soon as he got home, she fought her smile and told him she was feeling much better, and when Andrei was at practice the next day, she swung by the team store to pick up the smallest jersey she could find and had them customize it to ‘DADDY 37’.

Kat smiled to herself as she held the jersey before she hugged it to her chest. They were having a baby.

The hotel bed sheets pooled around Andrei’s waist as he slowly sat up and he frowned as he ran his hand through his hair to push it out of his eyes. “What’re you doing up?” He asked, sleep making his words slur together.

Kat shrugged and gave him a soft smile before she moved to sit on the edge of the bed, the neck of her robe falling down a little more, exposing her shoulder. “Couldn’t sleep, don’t worry about it.”

“Gonna worry, Kisa,” he frowned and ran his hand up and down her thigh, looking at her like she hung the stars in the sky. “It’s our anniversary, I wanted to wake up with my sexy girlfriend in my arms and make sweet love to her until I absolutely have to be on the beach,” he hummed and pulled her onto his lap so he could kiss her neck.

Kat laughed as she blushed and sat her nearly empty cup of coffee on the bedside table before she looped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him properly. “Sorry,” she hummed. “I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep so I slipped out so I wouldn’t wake you. You need rest, Drei, you had a long week and have a long weekend ahead of you.”

“Need you more, Kisa,” he whispered and kissed her again. Kat smiled into the kiss and softly cupped the back of his neck as she pressed herself closer to him, but when Andrei began to trail his hands down to her ass, she pulled back from the kiss and tapped his chest, pulling a frustrated groan from him.

“Soon, big boy,” she smiled, and her smile widened at the way Andrei scrunched his nose up at the nickname. She hadn’t let him live it down since he uttered those words in that post-game interview. “I have something for you first,” she continued and bit her lip as she pulled back from him and walked over to her suitcase, laying it down before she unzipped it and pulled out a neatly wrapped box.

“Oh?” Andrei hummed and sat up a little straighter as he ran his eyes down her body and licked his lips. It had to be lingerie, he thought to himself, already imagining what the latest addition to her collection could be. Black lace? Sheer? 37 embroidered above her pussy? Crotchless panties? He hummed as he thought about it. He could be a little late to media day, couldn’t he?

“It’s not what you think it is, Drei, but you’ll still love it, I hope anyway,” she laughed nervously as she walked over and sat the box on his lap before tucking her leg under her as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“Not what I think?” He scoffed, so sure it was lingerie. But maybe not a set, he thought, a babydoll? A teddy? A chemise? And if not lingerie… Oh a toy for them? Like one of those vibrators he could control from his phone? He bit his lip as he thought about it. He could mess with her from the ice during the skills comp, know he was making her feel good while he put on a show for the fans, fuck yeah that would be fun. His cock definitely liked that idea and he wasted no time untying the bow Kat took ages to tie and shredded the wrapping paper with a smirk.

But his as soon as he saw what was in the box, his grin dropped in shock as he saw “Daddy” and the top of what was surely his number on a little jersey with a test on top. He was gentle as he picked it up, his eyes widening when he read “pregnant 3+” on the little screen. “Are you serious, Katarina?” He asked breathlessly as he looked up at her with wide eyes.

She bit her lip to contain her smile as she nodded, “I’m pregnant, Andrei.”

His smile grew as he dropped the test back into the box before he pushed it aside and pulled her back onto his lap so he could hug her, burying his face into her neck as he clung to her. Kat laughed as she hugged him back just as tightly and ran her fingers through his hair as she cradled his head. “God, I love you so much,” he told her, his voice muffled by her shoulder. “We’re really having a baby?”

“We’re really having a baby,” she nodded and pulled back to look at him, her smile widening at how soft his eyes were as he looked back at her. He didn’t think it was possible for him to fall more in love with her, but he was falling deeper in love with her every minute.

His shook his head, wondering what he had done to be so lucky to have her before he kissed her, pulling her closer to him by the small of her back, but he couldn’t stop smiling so he had to pull back and his smile widened as he quickly rolled them over so she was below him, pulling a laugh from her. God, her laugh was his favourite sound. Or maybe second favourite, her moans were music to his ears.

Andrei peppered her cheeks with kisses making Kat laugh harder before he moved down her body and pulled her robe open before he pressed a soft kiss to her stomach. “Hi Baby Svech,” he said and kissed her stomach again before he gently laid his hand over her belly. Their baby was in there, he put their baby in there.

Kat’s smile softened as she looked at him and she covered his hand with her own. “Our baby, our little Baby Svech,” she whispered and started to tear up, so indescribably happy.

“Our little Baby Svech,” Andrei echoed and kissed her belly again before he moved back up her body and kissed her again, both still smiling too hard for it to last longer than a second and he rubbed his nose against hers as his smile widened. “And now I get why your tits have gotten so big.”

Kat laughed so hard she snorted and she shoved his shoulder hard. “Seriously? I tell you I’m pregnant and your first comment is my tits?”

He laughed deep in his chest as he shrugged. “Can’t help it, I love your tits,” he replied shamelessly before he leaned onto his side so he could push her robe open a little more and squeeze her breast softly.

“You only like them now because they’ve gotten big and they’re just gonna keep getting bigger,” she replied and knocked his hand away before pulling her robe back over her chest.

He groaned as he toyed with the edge of her robe before he looked back up at her. “I’ve always loved your tits,” he told her. “I just enjoy how full they are. I mean, they’ve been spilling out of your bra lately. And fuck, how I love when you moan when I play with them,” he groaned at the thought and slipped his hand back under the edge of the robe and tweaked her nipple between his fingers.

He was rewarded with a soft moan as she arched into his touch, and his eyes darkened as he looked at her. “Shut up,” she rolled her eyes, but didn’t push his hand away. “But I did order some new bras the other day.”

The corner of Andrei’s lip twitched up before he bit his lip, “Oh, did you now? Did they come in? Did you pack them?”

Kat shook her head, “no, none of them came in… But don’t worry, I packed a lot of tiny sets and bikinis for you, Drei.”

He groaned before he kissed her and quickly deepened it as he ran his hand down her body to her thigh and pulled her closer before he returned his hand to her stomach. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers and his voice softened, “I can’t believe we’re really having a baby.”

“Neither can I,” Kat whispered as she returned his smile. “We’re gonna be parents, Drei.”

His nose scrunched up as his smile widened, “you’re gonna be a mama and I’m gonna be a papa. God, I can’t wait.

“I know, neither can I,” she hummed and wrapped her arm around his shoulder to pull him closer, hooking her thigh over his hip as she hugged him tightly. Andrei held her just as tightly, his hand spanning her lower back. “How am I supposed to do anything today when now I know you’re carrying my baby?” He asked with a soft laugh, this was the happiest day of his life and he didn’t ever want to let go of her, let alone be paraded around the beach for media.

“I could have told you earlier, but I wanted to wait to tell you for our anniversary,” she laughed and kissed his jaw.

His eyes darkened as she continued to mouth at his jaw and he slid his hand down to squeeze her ass, “God, you make me want to ravish you, woman.”

His words had heat pooling between her thighs and Kat bit her lip before she gently pushed him back so she was straddling him, her robe slipping down to her elbows as she rocked her hips into his, making Andrei groan loudly as he reached out to cup her breast. “Think we have time for—” she started before her eyes widened and she clamped her hand over her mouth before she pulled back from him and rushed to the bathroom to throw up.

Andrei groaned under his breath and closed his eyes before he pushed the covers back and followed her into the bathroom where he knelt beside her and gently pulled her hair back for her. “Oh, Kisa,” he said softly and rubbed her back with his free hand.

Kat threw up again before she flushed the toilet and rested against the toilet, “I cannot wait for this morning sickness thing to pass.”

Andrei winced and stood up to get her a glass of water before he knelt back down and handed her the cup. “But at least it’s not a stomach bug?” He tried before furrowing his brows. “Well, I guess it kinda is a stomach bug… But you know what I’m saying.”

Kat gave him a tight lipped look. “Yeah, a stomach bug I caught from you,” she told him before standing up to rinse her mouth.

Andrei followed her up and wrapped his arms around her waist, his hand covering her stomach as rested his chin on her shoulder. “A bug you asked me to give you,” he corrected her and kissed her cheek.

Kat smiled at him through the mirror before reaching for her toothbrush. “Yes, a bug I asked you to give me,” she agreed as she leaned back into him and covered his hand with hers. “Baby Svech.”

She watched as Andrei’s smile widened and he kissed her cheek again. “The first of many,” he hummed, pulling a laugh from Kat.

“Yes, the first of many, many Baby Svechs.”

#when it gets crisp in the fall story #andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov imagine #Carolina Hurricanes #nhl #hockey #hockey rpf #mine

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white-chalk-sapphomet · 3 months ago

Note

I appreciate your compliments about my heavy mods.

Given light of the information to follow, I've opted to protect myself on Anon, so your followers may too benefit of these specifics in effort to see you and everyone else safe and handled right.

It's an option but I wouldn't trust the Butchers doing it here in the states. The money's too good to care about the body they do it to in most cases. No matter how inclusive they claim. No matter how friendly and offering and welcoming they seem. Opportunities they offer to place the facade with definition.

It is NOT a friendly community or lifestyle behind the curtain. My artist, of whom I'm happy to Oust for a LOT of really fucked up shit [including against the LGBTQIIA+] after he did my mods,. Told me once after clearing cost of supplies, hotel, sale space at a tattoo convention that often travels or is annual,. He lands 22k USD$ IN A SINGLE WEEKEND. Clear.

Bet on it they'll say and DO whatever they need and get VERY skilled at the manipulation tact to keep that going.. anything.

My horns are coming out after three years, both for that reasoning and my own of personal decision of aesthetic as well.

The tongue,. Well.. it was nearly too much to handle getting done, I sure don't wanna know what mending it back would be like. I'm satisfied with it, and frankly, everyone else seems to be as well.

Thank you for your following.

You DO NOT want SHAWN O'HARE, Campbell, Chase or anyone with some flashy gimmick and a big plastic smile. Trust it's plastic, and after a time will become brittle and eventually just Break.

Be safe. Hydrate. Go see Sampa and Anita Von Cycborg [Spain] via appointment of contact through their insta and Facebook.

Rusty Cyborg is a group They started and They monitor on Facebook. I encourage a follow there, and even with that.. listen, but take it all with a grain of salt. Many many many posts from any body mod group these days is a facade to allow an artist to make themselves look more popular.

This is NOT a LEGAL practice in the U.S.

AT ALL.

Getting it done isn't illegal, but the "consent" you give isn't recognized by the government here,. Like a lot else... and they'll get them on butchery and man slaughter,. Even attempted unaliving if it's painted right.

Do your research.. please please.

Be safe.

I can't typically afford tattoos and stuff aside from friday the 13ths, so I don't think it's a realistic pursuit for me anytime soon, but ty that's fascinating

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tryskomys · 3 months ago

Text

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 8 - Over My Head

Summary: that would be a shame.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: didn’t expect to finish another chapter this week, yay! i hate hate hate describing outfits, it always feels so wattpad. but hey, hopefully it’s digestable. this one somehow feels short - still, it’s 4,1k but you know, sometimes it just has this vibe. hope you like it anyway <3

tws: none this time, just lead-heavy tension and a bit of clumsy fluff.

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

22.4.1988

Keys rattled in the main door and Stone hurried in, his grown-out hair slightly sticking to his forehead. Keeva peeked out of the curtain in front of her room, holding an eyeliner pencil.

“Okay, this is the only brown colour they had, but I think it’ll do,” he called over his shoulder, waving to call her downstairs.

“Perfect! I asked your mom for a hair dryer, it’s in the bathroom,” she said and gathered her makeup. She hopped down, trying to shake the nervous chills off when he turned around and looked at her.

Xana worked in a little vintage clothes shop and when Keeva mentioned that she didn’t own a dress, she rummaged through the depths of the shelves and gave her one with a huge sale. She even altered the seemingly shapeless drape of dark purple linen into a cute sundress.

She wanted Keeva to have a fancy look for the first official Mother Love Bone concert - Andy came up with the name and no one had the slightest idea what it meant, but it was perfectly weird and off-the-wall, just like his lyrics.

Keeva felt so uneasy. She hadn’t worn a dress since fifth-grade prom and Xana didn’t exactly leave much to imagination.

The thin straps were really too much for her, so she put on a baggy checkered shirt she stole from Stone’s drawer and decided to wear the dress on top of it.

The dress was too short as well, but she managed to make herself feel a bit better with some bike shorts she found at the bottom of her suitcase and thick woollen socks.

She was dreading Stone’s reaction, expecting him to either laugh at her or at least tease her heart out of her throat for being scared to wear a skirt.

She could already hear his nagging nasal voice in her head.

‘Awooga! Look who’s here, the Virgin Mary herself. What are the shorts for, Baby? Afraid to show an inch of your thigh?’

It was very refreshing when he just looked Keeva up and down and quickly turned back around without a word, digging around the CVS bag he brought with him. She softly sighed, trying to shoo the uncomfortable thoughts out of her brain.

Wow. Great. Gee thanks, that was such a nice thing to say, Stoney. You’re so sweet.

“Lookit,” Stone said after clearing his throat and handed her a box of brown hair dye. “You think it’s fine?”

“Yeah, that looks about right,” Keeva nodded and reached up to compare the photo of the brunette woman on the packaging with Stone’s roots. “Yup. Well, bathroom, off you go. I’ll be there in a sec.”

On cue, he ran his hand through his hair and walked away, unusually sheepish. She shook her head and quickly finished the eyeliner, her fingers jittery.

Jesus, is it that bad? Should I change?

Keeva threw the pencil away on his bed with slightly too much strength before following him to the bathroom. Stone was sitting on the cold tiled floor, picking on his nails. She started unpacking the box dye while carefully watching him rub his fingers together.

“You want the roots too or just the grown-out part?” she questioned, skimming over the instructions.

“Just the orange bit,” he took a fleeting look at her legs and quickly focused back on his hands.

“Calm down,” she softly mumbled, making him frown.

“I am calm.”

Stone’s fidgets were a clear indicator that he was, in fact, not calm.

They played a few house parties over the last two months, but this was different.

A proper show at The OK Hotel.

“When was your last gig?” Keeva ignored his irritated tone as she put the rubber gloves on and vigorously shook the plastic bottle of liquid to mix it with the dye powder.

“October,” Stone muttered and put his index finger to his mouth to chew on it. “You?”

“May,” she answered, softly tutting to make him stop. He just threw her an annoyed look and continued to bite on his hangnails.

As Keeva hovered above him with the dye bottle, Stone laid his hands in his lap and closed his eyes as if he was bracing for some sort of impact.

“You ready?” she sweetly scratched his head and he visibly relaxed, humming in agreement. “Good boy.”

That made Stone snicker and he reached out to pinch her calf. She squealed and gave him a little kick before proceeding to squeeze a bit of dye in his hair and smearing it in.

After a few moments of anxious silence, it was as if a switch flipped in him and he straightened his back with a big sigh, levelling his head with her stomach. Then, he rested his forehead on her hip bone. Keeva shivered.

Don’t do this to me.

“Careful, you’ll ruin my fancy dress,” she near-whispered and took a tiny step back, but he just chuckled, his breath tickling her thigh.

“That would be a shame,” Stone mumbled and lifted his head with an absent gaze. He raised his hand to softly tug at the rim of her skirt. “It’s nice.”

A painful rush of red filled Keeva’s cheeks as he slowly ran the tip of his index finger up her thigh and under her skirt. A freezing jolt of chills ran down her spine and she twitched - accidentally sending her knee forward. She softly kicked Stone in the chest, but he didn’t seem too bothered, tutting.

“Ow,” he lazily deadpanned and finally shuffled further away from her. She let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

What the fuck is your problem, beanpole?

Keeva couldn’t decide if the silence was awkward or not, but it was nerve-wracking either way.

“You’re still breathing on my leg,” she said as she rubbed the dye between her fingers, working it into a strand of Stone’s hair. He hummed.

“I am.”

“It tickles.”

“Tough shit,” he scoffed and softly blew on her skin. She kicked him again, this time on purpose. Stone grabbed her leg mid-air and started tickling her knee.

“Stop!” she yelped and and tried to step back. “I have your precious hair in my hands, asshole, don’t test me!”

They yanked each other back and forth for a few moments before Stone finally let go of her leg with a loud hiss.

“Ow! Okay, yield, yield, Jesus!”

Keeva stopped pulling his hair, too, giggling.

“The longer you distract me, the longer it will take and we have to leave in two hours. So if you want to go out there with ammonia mud in your hair, go ahead,” she spewed, nudging him with her foot. Stone wolf-whistled.

“I’m distracting you? You sweet talker,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, your pants are too tight,” she gave him a sarcastic smile and he - slightly panicked - quickly looked down at his jeans, then back at her.

“Your dress is too short,” he mirrored Keeva’s smile and watched her get red in the face again, clearly entertained.

Yeah, thanks for the honesty, mate.

Encouraging as always.

“I know it is,” she muttered under her breath and then took a long pause. “You think I should change?”

Her voice came out much more insecure than she planned. Stone tilted his head and Keeva was surprised that he seemed so puzzled.

“Of course not,” he frowned as if it was the most obvious answer under the sun.

“What’s ‘of course’ about that? It’s short and I’m short and my knees are scabby and I have bruises all over my legs and -”

“You look amazing, shut up,” he said matter-of-factly. Keeva raised her eyebrows.

That almost sounded like a Stone compliment.

“You shut up,” she shook her head with a bashful grin and hurried to break the eye contact. She pretended to squint at whatever she was doing. Whenever Stone’s hair was wet or tied back in any way, his stare somehow managed to be even more overwhelming.

“Thanks,” she silently added and quickly tried to change the subject. “What are you wearing, anyway?”

“Nothing this cute, let me tell you that much,” Stone started poking her knee again and she gave him an annoyed frown.

Yup. Here comes the mocking.

“Sorry,” he chuckled and raised his arms in surrender. “Uh, I don’t know. Probably a Green River t-shirt, that seems like a nice touch of irony.

Keeva snorted.

“No, you will not.”

“Watch me,” he shrugged. “I think I’ll take the Scumbag cowboy hat, too.”

“Oh, good grief,” she whined, holding back a laugh.

“Here we go! This is the shit,” Andy exclaimed and reached into one of the large bags of clothes in front of him. He fished out a felt cowboy hat with a few huge feathers sticking out from behind the rim. Stone started laughing, immediately grabbed it and put it on.

“Jesus Christ,” Keeva stuttered out and slapped her forehead. Andy and Regan clapped.

“Oh, you have to,” Regan cackled, whistling when Stone batted his eyelashes.

“It looks so fucking good with the whiskers, you’d be drowning in pussy if you wore this every day,” Andy giggled and kept on digging in the bag.

“Ew, don’t encourage him! I live in the same room,” she complained and started searching through one of the bags as well.

“Shut up, Baby, you’re just jealous that you don’t have a cool hat,” Stone grinned as he took it off, studying the feathers closer. She hooted.

“Oh, but I do,” she said and pulled out a big satin top hat. They all gasped.

“Put it on! Put it on!” Regan chanted and loudly wolf-whistled when she did. It was slightly big for her, but she felt amazing. It felt like armour.

“Are we playing any T. Rex today?” she giggled, looking up at the rim of the top hat with childlike delight. Stone giggled.

“Well, now we are!”

“Yay! Thus, Tom and Jerry’s Scumbag Jukebox was born,” Andy announced and clapped, clearly overjoyed.

Stone and Keeva exchanged a look and after a few seconds of silence, they both burst out in giggles - and they continued to do so until they were both on the floor, tangled into each other as they cramped through a fit of laughter.

“If you wear your Scumbag hat, I’ll wear my Scumbag hat,” she warned and wiggled her finger at him after putting a plastic shower cap on his stained hair. “Done.”

“Please, wear your Scumbag hat. That will be, like, a crown to this outfit,” Stone chuckled and tugged on her skirt one more time before getting up. Keeva narrowed her eyes at him.

Great. Great for my confidence.

“What now?” he added, taking a look in the shabby little mirror above the sink.

“Thirty minutes and wash it off,” she said and took her rubber gloves off. “But honestly we could keep it like this, too. The slicked-back look really makes your eyes pop.”

Stone looked at her and slowly widened his eyes while extending his arms, creeping closer to her. She squealed and started running out of the bathroom - however, he caught up with her in two brisk steps. He grabbed Keeva from behind with a theatrical growl, lifted her off her feet and started spinning in a circle.

“No, put me down! Careful with the dress!” she screeched through laughter, frantically slapping his forearms. Stone cackled and squeezed his arms around her waist.

“Would be a shame, wouldn’t it? Haha!”

“Yes, it would, put me down!”

“Say you look great and I’ll release you from my clutches,” he squeezed tighter and started spinning faster.

“Let me go!”

“Say ‘I look great!’” he mocked her accent with a high-pitched voice.

“Stop, I’m gonna be sick, Stoney!”

“Say it!”

“Okay, I look great!” she yelped and Stone finally stopped spinning, but still didn’t put her back on her feet.

“See? Wasn’t that hard,” he hummed, shaking Keeva from side to side. He squeezed her one more time in a tight hug and then set her back on the ground, planted a quick kiss on her burning cheek and hopped away to his clothes drawer with a cocky grin.

● ● ● ● ● ●

“Ow! Son of a bitch!” Stone’s yelp echoed from the bathroom, followed by a fierce kick into the lousy cupboard under the sink.

“Calm your tits, I’m not fixing the door again,” Keeva chuckled and walked in to see what’s going on.

Stone had washed the dye off and blow-dried his hair, now attempting to detangle a scrunchie out of his ponytail. It was a bit dehydrated from the dye, so it easily matted into a big messy knot.

The darker hair looked amazing. It definitely gave him a certain air of maturity, a thought that made Keeva laugh as she watched his childish frown.

He was redoing the ponytail for the fourth time. She had no clue why, it looked the same as always, but Stone just wasn’t satisfied with it. Now, he was just aggressively pulling while grunting in frustration.

“Jesus, how did you manage to do this?” Keeva squinted, stepping on her tiptoes. She tugged on his kaleidoscope vest to take a closer look.

Stone was already in his chosen gig outfit - he really did put on a Green River t-shirt and she could do nothing as he threatened to spin her around again if she didn’t stop nagging.

“I don’t fucking know, I’ve been standing here for, like, half an hour and I can’t get…this…fucking…thing…out. Ouch!” he squealed again when Keeva tried to help him.

“I can’t see shit in this lighting, move,” she mumbled and grabbed the hairbrush he was holding. She dragged Stone out of the door by the wrist like a little kid.

“You’ll be bald by thirty if you keep fucking with it like that,” she said as she tugged him down on the floor with her. “Sit.”

“I’m not a dog, asshole,” Stone muttered back but did as she said and crossed his legs. He hissed when Keeva pulled him by the tangled mess so he’d shuffle closer to her.

“Yeah, dogs don’t yap as much. Stop bitching and stay put,” she retorted and slapped his hand away when he tried to rip on his hair again.

Now softer, Keeva pulled a little so he’d tilt his head back, giving her a better look at where the knots were.

“Good grief. Why did you redo it, anyway? It looked great on the first try,” she tutted and started carefully untangling the mess strand by strand. Stone finally seemed to calm down a bit.

“It was uneven and it looked like shit, so I tried to make it straight, but I loosened it too much. So I untied it and did it again and that was off, too.”

“Ehm ehm, Narcissus,” she teased, giggling when Stone reached behind him to pinch her thigh.

He hissed in pain when she accidentally ripped a lone hair out in an attempt to wiggle it out of the scrunchie.

“Fuck. Sorry, Stoney, sorry,” she whispered, cringing at his pained grunt. “Stop wiggling.”

“It’s just at this weird length where I can’t put it up without having a bunch of little hairs sticking out like a muppet and it’s bothering the fuck out of me and now it looks even worse when it’s not bleached,” he rambled and waved his arms around, which caused another few accidental rips. “Maybe I should shave it off.”

“Yeah, over my dead body, mate.” Keeva scoffed and quickly checked her watch. They still had a solid hour before Bruce was supposed to pick them up for the soundcheck.

“What, you think I couldn’t pull it off?” Stone asked with a grin, finally easing under her hands.

She couldn’t stop her vivid imagination from carrying her away.

She pictured him with a buzz cut, which made his strange features even stronger - the Roman nose seemed longer, the cheekbones and jawline sharper, and the freckles more noticeable.

And the eyes. Oh, the eyes. She definitely couldn’t take any more of that.

The glistening sweat on his temples and cheeks without any hair obscuring his flushed face made her heartbeat far too quick for her liking, snapping her out of her thoughts.

She shook her head when the fading image of an older Stone - with a shaved head and an unshaved face - smirked.

Keeva successfully detangled the last strand and theatrically threw the scrunchie across the room, then gave Stone a brief playful scratch and took the hairbrush.

No way I’m allowing that. Keep it ‘til you’re old enough to be hot.

“I mean, sure you could. But you seem to be -” she raised an eyebrow at Stone’s perfectly timed heavy sigh, “- enjoying yourself just the way it is. Maybe we could make a deal…let’s see. If we ever play, like, a really big festival, then you can shave your head.”

As soon as the brush touched Stone’s scalp, he leaned his head back and his eyes fluttered closed.

“What’s a really big festival? How many people are we talking?” he said with a growing smile.

“Not in terms of people, just…you know, the feeling,” she shrugged.

Stone chuckled.

“Deal.”

After all the knots were gone, Keeva neatly brushed half of his hair up, took the thin blue scrunchie on her wrist and softly tied it into a high ponytail.

She noticed that he tilted further and further back under her fingers, slowly resting his body against her chest. By the time she was done, Stone’s head was lying on her shoulder as he silently hummed an unintelligible tune with his eyes closed.

Keeva had never seen him so peaceful before. So innocent. A whiplash-inducing contrast to his prickly attitude from earlier.

How very you.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me now, you’ll mess up my masterpiece,” she softly nudged Stone, but he didn’t budge.

“There’s a knot right under my ear and it’s really pulling, maybe you should give it another brush,” he mumbled, not moving an inch. Keeva chuckled again and decided to entertain his jabs.

She put the hairbrush away and ran her fingers through the loose waves. Stone sighed again.

“Still pulling.”

She briefly brushed her knuckle against his artery while reaching up. She could swear she felt his heartbeat fasten. There were no knots left, but Stone’s eyelashes fluttered every time she touched his scalp and that was enough to make her play along.

“Pulling,” he lazily muttered, egging Keeva on to continue.

“Oh, wait, I think there’s a tangle right here,” she whispered and reached to the other side of his head, running her fingers through the brown strands behind his ear.

A chuckle rumbled in his chest, followed by a deep sigh.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he breathed out.

A rush of blood inflamed her face and she snapped out of the dreamy limbo she was floating in.

Stone was lying in her lap, resting his forehead on the nape of her neck. When he spoke, his nose brushed against her clavicle and his shivering exhale tickled her skin.

“Fuck, I wouldn’t shave it if they paid me.”

Keeva couldn’t stop herself from caressing him again. She knew that she was just adding new knots by brushing through the hair over and over, but he didn’t seem to mind.

On the contrary, Stone’s ears were growing warm and red and so were his freckled cheeks, forming a burning patchy blush to match hers.

She was too busy studying his peaceful features to realize that she rested her arms around his neck in a loose embrace.

“You’re a witch, you know that?” he mumbled after a few minutes of silence, finally opening his eyes. Up until that point, she thought that he’d actually fallen asleep.

However, Stone seemed completely lucid when he darted across Keeva’s face with curiosity, as if she were a compelling book. His eyebrows slowly knitted into a soft frown when he stopped at her lips.

“What time is it?” he suddenly asked before she could speak, completely glossing over the previous comment. Keeva blinked a few times, still digesting his scrutinizing stare.

“Uh, half past four. We still have, like, a bit over an hour -”

“Cool,” Stone interrupted her and abruptly snaked out of her arms, stood up and skipped over to the bathroom in long hops.

“Thanks, Baby. I dub thee my official hairstylist from now on, looks fine,” he called after her. Keeva still sat in stunned silence, giving her cheeks a few slaps to drag herself out of the haze.

“Wait, like I’m forever stuck untangling your knotty scrunchies like you’re a little girl? Braiding your pigtails?”

“Better leave it up to you, then it will be your fault if I’m bald at thirty,” Stone peeked out of the door and stuck his tongue out at her.

“And pray tell, what do I get out of it?” she crossed her arms and squinted at him. He shrugged.

“You get to play with my luscious locks, of course.”

Keeva raised her eyebrows.

“You just said you look like a muppet, but fair. You know what that means though, right?”

“Hm?” he frowned.

“You have my hair tie. You’re branded as my property now.”

“Backhanded flirting doesn’t work on me and you know it, sweetheart,” Stone shot back a bit too casually for her ego’s liking and disappeared back into the bathroom. “I’m free as a bird and I intend to keep it that way.”

“Keep whatever you want, Casanova,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “But it’s like, the kindergarten rule number one. ‘Thou shalt belongest to the wench whose scrunchie thou wearest on thy wrist.’ Something like that.”

Stone’s chuckle rang in her ears, but he had no further snappy comments.

● ● ● ● ● ●

The OK was packed. Way more than they’d expected. Although Andy carried himself like the confident frontman he strived to be, his giddy nervousness backstage was extremely contagious.

Keeva didn’t mind, though, as it was a welcome change from her sickening nervousness - she had to leave the soundcheck two times to vomit.

Once they came on, though, it was like something possessed her and took away the tense cramp in her stomach.

Greg was tightly holding everything together, effortlessly professional and giving her encouraging smiles whenever the two of them found the right groove for a song.

Jeff was jumping around and bopping his head while never missing a beat, she had to come over to him a few times to lift his floppy hat away from his eyes - and she earned a huge twinkling smile from him.

Andy bounced around like a flying comet, commanding all the attention of the crowd and playing them like a fiddle, while Bruce watched him with a gleeful smile, overjoyed to be on stage again working his black-and-white Telecaster.

The lights were low and dimly glowed through the small venue. She could see the encouraging faces, familiar or not, whistling and headbanging like there was no tomorrow.

The whole of Soundgarden, Regan and his and Stone’s friends Shawn and Josh, Jerry and Mike from Alice in Chains, some of the guys from Sub Pop and hers and Jeff’s co-workers. Even Mark and Steve from Green River showed up, along with their new bandmates - all four of them screamed their hearts out and Mark even crowd-surfed at one point. Xana was there, too, clapping and hooting from the side of the stage.

Stone was in his element, writhing from side to side as he mouthed along to his riffs. It was mesmerizing - the way his flushed cheekbones shimmered when Andy called for a lone string of light to be pointed at his lanky friend.

She could do nothing but stare at him in awe, quickly closing her agape mouth shut whenever he turned at her with a half-lidded and out-of-focus gaze, barely present as he gave her a firm nod to cue her to join him.

He had such a strange way of handling himself while playing, a silhouette that haunted her dreams.

“What?”

“Nothing, just your posture.”

“What’s wrong with my posture?”

“Nothing wrong with it, it’s just…it suits you. Perfect ninety degrees. Edgy.”

“I get cramps when I angle it. It’s the arms. You know - beanpole.”

“Hey, can you turn the reverb down a bit?” Stone called after her during one of Andy’s in-between-song comedic routines. They stood right next to each other, but her ears were buzzing, so she gave him a confused frown.

“Huh?”

“The reverb,” he mouthed again, but Keeva shrugged. He shuffled over to her, a bit out of breath from jumping around.

He affectionately took her around her shoulders and squeezed her closer - his cheek was sweaty and flaming hot as he brushed against her forehead while bending down to her.

“The reverb, could you turn it down?”

This time she heard him, leaning back to press her lips against his ear.

“Come again? Sorry, I can’t hear a word you’re saying over that absurd hat, feels like it’s screaming into my face.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

#90s music #grunge fanfiction #mother love bone #pearl jam #pearl jam fanfic #pearl jam fanfiction #pearl jam imagine #stone gossard fanfic #stone gossard fanfiction #stone gossard x oc #stone gossard #band fic

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jxtp0sed · 9 months ago

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If ever you use a third-party booking app to book hotel accommodations, I would recommend you stay clear of Agoda. I heard the name here and there but never used them. My partner used them for some time & for the second time in Indonesia this trip. They sold us a room at a place with a 9/10 rating on location, value, etc. the price was great and he had just been upgraded in member status so he’d gotten a discount on a discount. It was a time sale too so we only had like 15 minutes to decide on the room. He’s taken care of everything so far and we’ve been enjoying our time tons. We were so excited to get a little bit of an upgrade for the week ahead in Sanur, a new city & change of pace from Ubud. We wanted a nice place to stay with a slow pace so we could still get work done (and save a bit) after staying in a party city like Kuta and a trendy area like Ubud just prior.

We get there early and have some language trouble during check-in. Cool. No problem at all. Thank god for phones and translation software. We get led to a room, any room, it seemed. The room was hot and smelled like mold. Maybe they weren’t ready for us but it just felt so like “okay just take this room”. Which like, okay fine, they probably were not expecting us yet but didn’t wanna turn us away. Again, communication issues. I understand the pressure. The guy at the front at the time (only staff member there then) gave a smile and we exchanged thank yous after all was said and done. But the room. The room smelled like it had been baking in the sun for however long until we got there and we turned on the ac. We sucked it up cuz it was just nice to not be in the sun with all our bags. But honestly the car ride there from Ubud (55min away) was more enjoyable.

The decor. Do not get me started. The furniture was made of cheap wooden particle board. Not my style for sure and definitely an eyesore as it wasn’t even smoothed or coated like maybe ikea/nitori. The bathroom shelving was made of this too. That kind of material exposed to prolonged heat, moisture & lack of airflow is nottttt good.

We wanted to let the room cool down and check out the area cuz honestly mosquitoes were enjoying us and the beach was close by, so we left for a stroll.

The location was also meh. A couple sports bars with late forty/fifty something men and a nearby local beach that was very quiet. Fine, since we were looking to relax and don’t need beach party resort vibes at all, but I was definitely wondering what we would be doing all week within walking distance since there wasn’t much and the hotel left a lot to be desired. Remember it was advertised as a 9/10. There was no communal space. There was a cute pool but it was really small and you could tell that was the focal point of all the photos from the ad we got pushed. The small pool and the room. It felt so tight. The bathroom was large but was behind a particle board door, making the bedroom area feel even more cramped. It felt like a place just to crash, not really hang or spend time. Especially for two people.

I’m not worried about safety here tooo bad compared to other places but on the other hand I’m from NY and I don’t trust anyone anywhere so like the door to our room just being a 95% glass, slide door with a curtain and a turn lock (kinda like a balcony door) and a tiny key did not feel secure. Esp with first floor access and no one at the front desk. It felt like a mailbox lock lol.

Most importantly, the room just was not comfy and there were bugs everywhere, even in the bed. After our walk which I was overdressed for, I was exhausted from the heat and sweating so much and I just plopped on the bed. By that time, the room was cooler. I wasn’t feeling well and I didn’t care about all the ants and mosquitoes and bugs or smell. I was prettt shindoi - I had had a beer while we were out & not much water. After some rest, maybe 20-30 minutes I decided I needed a shower. (That’s when I noticed the particle board door & shelves and stuff) I almost thought it was communal shower I was about to say. I did not bring my own towel this trip (mistake) and was reluctant to use theirs but I mean I had no choice besides maybe air dry, lol. (Which would have been fine but again sliding balcony door with just white! curtain to cover) - uh no.

I think we were both feeling like we wanted to leave the room again and check out the downtown area near another beach, so we got some bikes on Grab (ride sharing but on motorbike) & left. THIS area was a 9 for location and this area had wayy more shops, bars, restaurants, variety of people and was way more upbeat and scenic. The beach stretched forever and we walked for a long long time & found a good happy hour. We had pizza during sunset. The evening was setting in and we eventually made our way back to our room.

We got back, looked around and we decided to find alternative rooms to stay. Maybe I was just noticing them more than before or maybe cuz it was night, but the bugs were to the extent we thought we might not be able to sleep comfortably and were looking for alternative places because a WEEK would have not been possible. We found a room somewhere else and booked it tf out of there. (As we were getting our bags, a big ass water bug/flying cockroach tried to come into the room) and that was the last straw though my partner and I collectively had similar thoughts all day about the whole experience.

We tried to get a partial refund but we couldn’t, and I’m so mad at Agoda for selling us this room for so much money (even though it was discounted) cuz there’s no way it was worth paying for at the discounted rate never mind the usual rate. It was not a 9/10 and I would not recommend it to a friend. Like I could not even bring my mom there. My partner has asthma & dust allergy and the dust stuck in the particle board grooves of the headboard and bugs, mold etc ugh it was just too much. Dont think we will get anything back even though we were physically in the room for less than two hours. We are cutting our losses at this point. I hope they use the money for some better furnishings and bug control so no one else is tricked the way we were. It’s cool if they don’t too, but that rating system is hella flawed and my grievances are mostly with Agoda cuz we wouldn’t have stayed there otherwise/if we knew what we know now.

There’s more horror stories on Reddit and YouTube now that we had time to look into this blasted companies practices. Def doing our due diligence if we plan to use them again this trip. No time sales and double checking all bookings prior to check in.

Super happy with where we are staying now tho. So glad we even had the funds to even do so 😅

Sanur is lovely. We love it here now that we’ve seen many more sides of it 😂

#travel #hotel #storytime

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mad2jokes · 1 year ago

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Joke

dog jokes - meaningful quotes - country - taxi driver - how to order coffee - hello quotes funny - pizza jokes - projects to try - getting married funny - funny texts jokes - healthy motivation quotes - sleep funny - texas police - cant sleep funny - vacation humor - bear - funny engagement quotes - tv funny - mother daughter wedding gifts - dog death - friend jokes - funny picture jokes - positive quotes for life motivation - joke of the day - you lied to me - port - good morning happy sunday - blonde jokes - christmas poems - female presidents - funny jokes for adults - hotel humor - marriage counseling funny - pizza funny - inspirational poems - wake up - feelings humor - whiskey and you - hugs and kisses quotes - wise quotes - young ones - train - funny school jokes - chocolate chip - alien - funny true quotes - marital advice - family balancing - chip cookies - funny questions - young farmers - stories with moral lessons - funny words - moral stories - siblings funny - mom jokes - rain - sister quotes funny - funny halloween jokes - private plane - group of frogs - hotels room - sunday prayer - ring doorbell - funny old sayings - pet hacks - jokes about men - fathers day sale - falling in love again - prison - citizen - cowboy boots - he is able - high school teacher humor - medical humor - food for thought - politicians funny - the woodman - the donkey - blonde couple - funny text message jokes - funny feelings - cooking lessons - wife humor marriage - you lied - funny jok - irish painters - names - desert island - sweet quotes - flowers bouquet - funny family jokes - places to visit - mommy quotes - lion and the mouse - farmer quotes funny - brother quotes funny - call husband - dear self quotes - public execution - the darkest - anniversary quotes for husband - before and after marriage - good morning beautiful quotes - primary school - butterfly quotes - clean funny jokes - mathematics humor - lost wallet - pig jokes - 40 year anniversary - life quotes pictures - teaching humor - short humor - bible verses quotes inspirational - broken arm - funny fart quotes - long jokes - funny math jokes - ceramics - funny physics quote - funny truck quotes - english short stories - marriage humor - wooden bowls - nurse jokes - dad jokes - amazing inspirational quotes - good morning funny pictures - crow - funny long jokes - grammar humor - adult dirty jokes - difficult relationship quotes - funny blonde jokes - funny toasts - funny relationship quotes - some jokes - guys be like - getting over him - christmas jokes - good paying jobs - funny sketches - pray always - get well quotes - pet shop - cop jokes - people skills - funny cat jokes - cleaning quotes funny - cute cats - its friday quotes - pearls - in this moment - cooking and baking - elderly man - irish funny - irish men - comedians jokes - anniversary quotes funny - women jokes - homemade recipes - cab driver - the trooper - very funny jokes - childhood sweetheart quotes - school - life is beautiful - white beard - funny picture quotes - funny dating quotes - good wife - how to look better - duck and ducklings - sunday school class - amish men - math humor - graduation jokes - funny text messages - lawyer quotes humor - famous scientist - daisy field - funny riddles - relationship jokes - sherlock funny - confidence funny - couples play - buy curtains - high jokes funny - the struts - medical humor doctor - funny medical quotes - success quotes and sayings - hospital humor - old quotes - fishing humor - shopping humor - engineering humor - work accident - bar jokes - sleepless - brother - eye black - angel quotes - blue suit - funny joke quote - writing a book - life quotes family - talk - teacher jokes - how are you feeling - sunday humor - lion - food places - friendship quotes - mirror jokes - short jokes - the silent treatment - antique oil lamps - funny marriage advice - school essay - anniversary quotes for couple - good moral stories - church quotes - mom humor - funny old people - train travel

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rz-jocelyn · 2 years ago

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[NEWS UPDATE] PolluSute: The Main Visual, Solo Visuals and Story Summary have been Released

SUMMARY

There was an older brother who constantly fought with others repeatedly, and a younger brother with a gentle heart. The brothers had an inescapable fate and a single wish. The fable of brothers who hurtle forward recklessly

"Castor & Pollux"

Now, on this stage, the curtain rises.

STAFF

Original Work: Sato Ryuji

Scriptwriter: Sato Ryuji

Director: Sato Ryuji

CAST

Fujiwara Itsuki from THE RAMPAGE (HiGH&LOW THE WORST X)

Shinya Seiji

Tamura Shogo (Musical Touken Ranbu)

Yamazaki Shogo (Musical Touken Ranbu)

Uekiya Satoshi (HiGH&LOW THE WORST)

Ryu from THE RAMPAGE (HiGH&LOW THE WORST X)

Nakamura Seijiro (Live Spectacle NARUTO)

Kitazono Ryo (Musical Touken Ranbu, Live Spectacle NARUTO, Online ♥ Reading "Lily & Rose" Vol. 01, SPOOKY!!)

Sato Ryuji

NOTE: Tamura Shogo and Yamazaki Shogo were originally supposed to co-star with Ryuji in "'Warau Salesman' THE STAGE", but the stage was cancelled due to the COVID-19 infection and lockdown. When the stage was rescheduled, Ryuji retained his role as Moguro Fukuzou, but both Shogo-kun were recast due to scheduling conflicts.

STAFF RELATED TO SATO RYUJI

Composer: YOSHIZUMI (Musical Touken Ranbu)

Script Cooperation: Kameda Shinjiro (Nelke Idol Stage, MANKAI STAGE "A3!", Hypnosis Mic -Division Rap Battle-)

Directing Assistant/Stunt Coordinator: Tomita Masanori (Rock Opera "R&J", Movie Theatre Success Sou, Musical Touken Ranbu)

Lighting: Ohata Hideki (Private Detective Hama Mike -THE MOST TERRIBLE TIME IN MY LIFE- Stage)

Stage Footage: Arakawa Hiroki (Live Spectacle NARUTO)

Costume/Outfit: Towazukuri (ZIPANG OPERA)

Hair and Makeup: Miyauchi Hiroaki ("Jujutsu Kaisen" The Stage, "Warau Salesman" THE STAGE, Ai no Rekishi Theater ~The Beginning of Love~)

Production: S-SIZE (ZIPANG OPERA)

Publicity Art: Eguchi Shinjiro ("Warau Salesman" THE STAGE, Musical Touken Ranbu)

Publicity Photo: Miyake Yusuke (Musical Touken Ranbu ~Kashuu Kiyomitsu Tanki Shutsujin~)

VENUE AND DATES

Dates: March 24, 2023 to April 02, 2023

Venue: Shinagawa Prince Hotel Stellar Ball

Capacity: 876 people

TICKET INFORMATION

General ticket sales for "Castor & Pollux" is now open.

Price: 11,000 yen

To purchase tickets, please refer to the links below.

Rakuten Ticket: HERE

Ticketbook: HERE

"Castor & Pollux" Official Twitter Account: HERE

"Castor & Pollux" Official Website: HERE

#Castor & Pollux #Sato Ryuji #Fujiwara Itsuki #Tamura Shogo #Yamazaki Shogo #Uekiya Satoshi #Ryu #Nakamura Seijiro #Kitazono Ryo #THE RAMPAGE from EXILE TRIBE

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mitzvahdigics · 2 months ago

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Finding the Right Air Curtains Supplier for Your Business Needs

In today’s competitive business environment, maintaining a comfortable, energy-efficient, and hygienic indoor space is crucial. One way to achieve this is by investing in high-quality Door Air Curtain systems that act as invisible barriers, helping regulate indoor temperatures and protect against outdoor contaminants. However, finding a reputable Air Curtains Supplier is essential to ensure you get a product that meets your requirements. This guide will cover everything you need to know about choosing the right Air Curtains Supplier, explore the growing market for Air Curtains Manufacturers in India, and highlight the benefits of installing a Door Air Curtain in your commercial space.

What is a Door Air Curtain?

A Door Air Curtain is an energy-efficient device installed above entryways to create a powerful, invisible barrier of air that blocks outside air from entering the space. This barrier helps maintain indoor temperatures and prevents contaminants like dust, pollutants, and insects from coming inside. Businesses of all kinds—from restaurants and hotels to factories and retail stores—are using Door Air Curtain systems to create more comfortable and efficient environments.

Benefits of a Door Air Curtain

Energy Savings: By preventing the escape of conditioned air, Door Air Curtain systems can reduce the load on heating and cooling systems, which leads to lower energy costs. This is particularly useful for spaces with high foot traffic, as it eliminates the need to open and close doors constantly.

Improved Indoor Comfort: The continuous air barrier helps maintain a consistent indoor temperature, making your space more comfortable for both employees and customers. In colder months, heated Door Air Curtain models can be used to warm entryways and prevent cold drafts from entering.

Enhanced Hygiene: Blocking outdoor contaminants, such as dust, smoke, and insects, makes Door Air Curtain systems essential for industries where cleanliness is crucial. In sectors like food service and healthcare, this contributes to a safer and more hygienic environment.

The Importance of Choosing the Right Air Curtains Supplier

To get the most out of your Door Air Curtain investment, selecting a reliable Air Curtains Supplier is crucial. The right supplier will offer quality products, customization options, and valuable support services, ensuring your air curtain meets your specific needs. Here’s what to look for in an Air Curtains Supplier:

Product Quality and Innovation: Reputable suppliers offer high-quality products designed with advanced technology to maximize efficiency and durability. Look for suppliers who provide various models with features such as adjustable speeds, heating options, and remote control for flexibility.

Range of Options: A reliable Air Curtains Supplier will offer a range of models tailored for different applications, whether you need a compact unit for a retail store or a powerful industrial model for a factory setting.

Customer Support and Installation Services: The best suppliers provide installation guidance, troubleshooting support, and even maintenance services, helping you maximize the lifespan of your air curtain.

Warranty and After-Sales Support: A trustworthy supplier will stand behind their products with a comprehensive warranty and offer after-sales support to ensure customer satisfaction over the long term.

The Role of Air Curtains Manufacturers in India

India is quickly becoming a major player in the global air curtain market, with numerous Air Curtains Manufacturers in India producing high-quality, competitively priced products for both domestic and international markets. Here are some reasons why Air Curtains Manufacturers in India are gaining recognition:

Cost-Effective Production: Air Curtains Manufacturers in India benefit from cost-effective production processes, allowing them to offer high-quality products at competitive prices. This is especially advantageous for businesses looking to install multiple air curtains across various locations.

Focus on Quality and Innovation: Indian manufacturers are increasingly adopting cutting-edge technology and adhering to international quality standards. This commitment to innovation has positioned Air Curtains Manufacturers in India as trusted suppliers for both local and global clients.

Customization and Versatility: Indian manufacturers offer a wide range of air curtain options, including custom sizes, power levels, and heating capabilities. This versatility makes it easier for businesses to find air curtains that fit their exact specifications.

Sustainable Manufacturing: Many Air Curtains Manufacturers in India are adopting eco-friendly production practices, making it possible to purchase energy-efficient and environmentally responsible air curtain products.

Choosing Between Domestic and International Air Curtains Suppliers

While the global market offers a variety of options, there are distinct benefits to working with Air Curtains Manufacturers in India if your business is located domestically. Local suppliers often provide faster delivery, lower shipping costs, and easier access to customer support. Plus, you may have the opportunity to visit the manufacturer’s facility or showroom, allowing you to see the product quality firsthand before purchasing.

How to Get Started with Your Door Air Curtain Installation

Once you’ve chosen a reputable Air Curtains Supplier, the next step is planning the installation of your Door Air Curtain. Here are some tips to ensure a smooth process:

Consult with Experts: Most Air Curtains Suppliers offer consultations to help you determine the ideal air curtain for your space. Discuss your specific needs, such as door size, energy efficiency goals, and temperature control requirements.

Professional Installation: Proper installation is crucial for optimal performance. Consider working with a professional technician or supplier who can install your air curtain correctly and verify that it functions as expected.

Maintenance Plan: Regular maintenance is key to ensuring your Door Air Curtain continues to perform at its best. Ask your supplier about maintenance services or recommended practices to keep the unit in excellent condition.

Conclusion

Investing in a Door Air Curtain is a smart choice for any business looking to improve energy efficiency, maintain indoor comfort, and enhance hygiene. Whether you’re interested in working with local Air Curtains Manufacturers in India or exploring other Air Curtains Supplier options, the key is to choose a supplier that prioritizes quality, customization, and reliable customer support.By carefully selecting the right Air Curtains Supplier and installing a high-performance Door Air Curtain, you’ll create a more comfortable, efficient, and hygienic space that benefits both your business and your customers.

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