#i just saw them live and the second the opening chords of this song started i began openly weeping

[fabledquill]

the way I would make a stephen maturin AMV to "adventures in solitude" by the new pornographers if I had any skill at all in editing

[humansofnewyork]

(15/15) “There’s something I do every morning. When I’m leaving for work. I’ll go in his room and give him a kiss on the forehead. Now if I was to try this during the day, he’d never allow it. He’d push me away. But if I catch him right when he wakes up, he’s disoriented. I think he forgets who he is for a second. And he’ll hug me like he doesn’t want me to leave. Next year he’s going to college. I don’t like it. It went too fast. It flew. We celebrated my 50th birthday last year. That was a big one for me; it was a birthday my father never saw. We took a trip to Philadelphia: all three of us. Tabatha booked us a nice hotel with an infinity pool. It was just a short trip, and the next morning we drove home. I’m coming out the elevator, with all of our luggage, when I hear a ruckus in the hallway. I’m thinking it's kids. I’m thinking the neighbor’s kids are playing in the hall again. But then I turn around, and it’s all of them: Nona, Steve, Anthony, all the nieces and nephews. They’re filming me and giggling like crazy. I go in the apartment and there’s decorations everywhere. A beautiful cake. My mother cooked my favorite braciole. In the living room there’s a bunch of gifts. I sit down on the couch to open them, and Tabatha slides a Bluetooth speaker next to me. It’s playing Billy Joel songs: Rootbeer Rag, Nocturne. Some of my favorites. But different versions, with different chords. When the final present is opened, I give a little speech. I thank everyone for coming. Then it was time for the braciole. I started heading for the kitchen, when Jack says: ‘Wait. There’s more.’ My niece disappears into the bedroom, and comes back with our electronic keyboard. She sets it down in the middle of the room. And Jack takes a seat. And he begins to play. The left hand running down the keys. The right hand running up the keys, playing the happy notes. I sit back on the couch and I start to lose it. Nobody else knows what’s happening. They’re confused. It’s just a song to them. They’re looking at me like I have seventeen heads. They couldn’t know. He actually did it. My boy. To make me happy. To make me say wow. My boy. My beautiful boy. My beautiful, beautiful, baby boy.”

[archiveikemen]

"Mobius Chord" Main Story Prologue: Chapter 9

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belong to +ONE by Ikemen Series and KansaiTV. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games.

Read this before interacting

Shina: I think… although Sui’s satisfied with his work in Sublime, part of his heart is still with Lit… 

Shina: If he’s bottling up any unresolved matters… I want to help.

Shina: But… none of us can do that. 

Shina: … Neither can the members of Lit. You're probably the only one who can help him. 

Shina: I’m sorry for being this useless. We’ll do our best to help, but if you can… 

Shina: Please… look out for Sui. 

(Even if you say that…!)

The unexpected responsibility placed on me felt like a boulder on my chest. 

(Why me, of all people…)

I let out a sigh and looked up at the clouds. 

Koto: This is too much… maybe I shouldn't have come today. 

Kei Midoh: I was kind of looking forward to seeing you here, though.

Koto: … Eh!?

I heard a familiar voice. 

The same voice that had accompanied me from the very first day of going to school in groups during first grade, all the way till college… 

Koto: Kei-kun!?

Kei: Long time no see. 

Kei: I heard you were hanging around the club room last week. 

Koto: Word sure travels fast, huh. Yeah, I was helping out with this party. 

Kei: So you’re a freelancer now? Haru-san mentioned that an article you wrote was good, but wouldn't tell me where it's published. 

Koto: Uhhhh, I think I’d be embarrassed if you read it… 

Kei: Oi, what’s that supposed to mean? 

We’d been together since childhood… 

Even though we attended the same college, we were in different faculties, studying different subjects. It eventually became harder to find time to spend together… 

During our first year of college, Kei-kun grew distant from the music club, and so did I by our second year. 

In the end, even when I left Lit, we never had a proper conversation about it. I wonder how much time has passed since then?

Kei: You were from the faculty of literature, right? I bet you’re meticulous with your interviews. 

Kei: If you ever feel like it, I’ll give you an interview. I’ll even tell Miyamoto-san. 

Koto: Ugh, isn't it kind of cheating to use our childhood friendship like that?

Kei: Stupid. Use what you can. Freelancing is tough work. 

Koto: Woahhh look at Kei-kun over here all grown up… acting soooo mature now…

Kei: Come again?

Hijiri: Oof, picking a fight already. Kei’s been that frustrated, huh. 

Reiya: Yeah. Just mentioning to him that we met Koto-chan had Kei’s eyes narrowing sharply. 

Kei: Wha—... now you guys are just spouting nonsense…! 

Haru: Hijiri-kun, that's enough. We’re about to perform an upbeat song, so let’s not spoil the mood. 

Hijiri: I’ll throw him off by slamming random piano keys mid-performance if he keeps sulking. 

Reiya: It’s our first live performance in a while, you’ll end up getting an earful if you improvise too much on the spot. 

Koto: Um, guys? Is it really okay for you to be slacking off here like this!? 

The atmosphere felt nostalgic and heartwarming. Part of me wanted to stay here forever— but this wasn't where I belonged. 

I chided them as they seemed to be getting too carried away with their idle chattering. 

Checking the time on “Mebi-usa”, the bunny-shaped clock I always carried with me— I saw that it was almost time for the opening ceremony. 

Koto: I’m looking forward to today’s performance. 

Koto: Lit, go on and shine like you always do!

Kei: … Yeah. We will!

Kei: Alright! Let's go! 

Unlike the four of them who dashed off, I started walking slowly— 

[bullet-prooflove]

Ghosts: Michael 'Riz' Ariza x Reader

So writing this absolutely ruined me. Inspired by this ask!

Tagging: @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @anime-weeb-4-life @danzer8705 @mysoulisasunflower @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @wakeama @sxmmarie @librarian1002 @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist

It’s only a couple of days after the funeral and you sit alone at the piano in EZ and Jo’s bar. Your fingers play over the keys as you sit at a bench that used to occupy the both of you. You think of the empty bed at home, of Riz’s kutte still resting on the back of one of the chairs in the kitchen. For a second this morning, you convinced yourself that he had just stepped out, that he’d be back any minute, but his keys were still on the table, a reminder that the bike in the garage that will never see another rider.

The chords are melancholy, the sound haunting as it cascades through the empty bar, the only place you can find some solace because you can’t stand the house without him, and this is the only other place the two of you had music together.

You can feel him here with you in the moment as the notes reach their peak and the crescendo breaks. The well of grief hits you and the lyrics come out like a sob, choking you but you continue playing because you need to chase this feeling, this memory of him sitting alongside of you, the rings on his fingers glinting in the light as he followed your lead.

You remember that smile, the way it made you feel the first time you saw it. The anguish fills up your chest and it spills down your cheeks as you close your eyes and think of his fingertips trailing across your skin in the depths of the night, his lips caressing yours as he made love to you in the fresh sheets with the window open.

Your fingertips slip across the keys. You lose the thread of the tune, the memory fading away like a ghost that’s been exorcised. The agony of it tears through you because there’s a piece of you missing, one that can never be replaced. When you open your eyes, you stare at the empty spot along side of you and you wish you’d never let him take that trip, that you’d tried to make him stay.

It’s a futile way of thinking, you know that, but you pray for it with everything you have.

But your prayers, they’ve never been answered, and you know that God’s not going to start now so you close the lid of the piano and raise to your feet.

You know you can’t stay in Santo Padre, not without Riz.

You don’t tell anyone that you’re leaving, it isn’t until Taza turns up at the house to check up on you later that evening that anyone knows your gone.

I can’t live without him, the note reads, and it breaks his heart because he knows how this ends.

They find you a couple of days later in the freshwater pond on Riz’s land, that secret little place where the two of you skinny dipped that summer.

They bury you alongside of him, a Fleetwood Mac song playing in the background as they lower the coffin.

It’s Taza that stays, long after the funeral he stands before the grave before he presses his fingertips to his lips and places them on the headstone.

Riz and his Songbird, together once again.

Love Riz? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[rivyuus]

The Beatles - I Saw Her Standing There (Song Review)

"I Saw Her Standing There" is the opening track on The Beatles' debut album, "Please Please Me," released in 1963. Written by the iconic duo of John Lennon and Paul McCartney, the song captures the essence of the youthful exuberance and raw energy that characterized the early years of British rock and roll. In this review, we will explore its musical composition, lyrical themes, historical context, and impact on the music scene.

Musical Composition

"I Saw Her Standing There" is a lively, upbeat rock and roll track that boasts a spirited tempo and an infectious melody. The song is built on a classic 12-bar blues structure, which was a common format for many rock and roll songs of the era. The introduction, characterized by a catchy riff played on the bass by Paul McCartney, immediately grabs the listener's attention. McCartney's bass playing throughout the song is prominent and dynamic, providing a driving force that underpins the entire piece.

The instrumentation consists of McCartney's lead vocals, featuring a youthful and vibrant tone, along with John Lennon’s harmonies and backing vocals. George Harrison’s lead guitar work adds texture, showcasing his early rock and roll style, while Ringo Starr’s drumming injects an infectious energy, driving the rhythm forward. The song’s tempo is brisk, clocking in at approximately 2 minutes and 55 seconds, which is both concise and punchy — an attribute that allows it to maintain a high level of excitement from start to finish.

Chord Progression and Arrangement

The chord progression of the song is straightforward yet effective. The verses adhere to a typical progression of the time, employing major chords that create a sense of brightness and optimism. The transition to the chorus introduces a slight departure, emphasizing the shift in emotional intensity as the protagonist expresses enthusiasm and longing. The arrangement is characterized by a balance between vocal harmonies, instrumental solos, and rhythmic elements that create a vibrant texture, a hallmark of early Beatles songs.

Lyrical Themes

Lyrically, "I Saw Her Standing There" captures the thrill and spontaneity of young love. The opening lines, “Well, she was just seventeen, you know what I mean,” set the stage for a narrative filled with youthful innocence and desire. The protagonist observes a girl standing at a dance or social gathering, and the lyrics convey a sense of immediate attraction and longing.

The use of the phrase “you know what I mean” gives the song a conversational tone, connecting with the audience and inviting them into the experience of the moment. The narrative speaks to the universal experience of young love — the nervous excitement, the anticipation, and the overwhelming feelings that come with it. The repeated refrain strengthens the emotional pull, emphasizing the protagonist’s infatuation and desire to connect with the girl he has seen.

Historical Context

Released in 1963, "I Saw Her Standing There" arrived during a transformative period in music. The Beatles were at the forefront of the "British Invasion," a phenomenon that saw British bands gain immense popularity in the United States. Their sound was deeply influenced by American rock and roll and rhythm and blues, drawing inspiration from legends like Chuck Berry, Little Richard, and Buddy Holly. This track serves as a tribute to those influences while also showcasing The Beatles' unique style and charisma.

The debut album "Please Please Me" was recorded quickly, with much of the material laid down in a single day. This urgency lends the album — and this song in particular — a raw and immediate quality that resonated with audiences. It captured the spirit of the early 1960s, a time marked by cultural shifts and a blossoming youth culture eager for new musical expressions.

Cultural Impact and Legacy

"I Saw Her Standing There" set the stage for The Beatles' arrival into mainstream popularity, establishing their potential as a groundbreaking force in rock music. The song has since become a staple of the band's discography and is celebrated for its energetic performance style that captivates audiences even today. Its influence is felt across generations, as it has been covered by numerous artists, further embedding it into the fabric of rock history.

The song's infectious energy, combined with its youthful lyrics and straightforward arrangement, has made it a favorite in live performances. The Beatles often opened their concerts with this track, using it to electrify the audience and set the tone for the evening. It embodies the spirit of the early Beatles era, with its blend of simplicity and catchiness, illustrating why the band became a cultural phenomenon.

Conclusion

"I Saw Her Standing There" is not just a song; it’s a snapshot of a moment, encapsulating the thrill of first love that resonates deeply with listeners of all ages. The Beatles took the raw emotion of youth and channeled it into a tightly crafted rock and roll anthem that remains a timeless classic. With its catchy melody, exuberant rhythm, and relatable lyrics, it serves as a perfect introduction to what would become one of the most influential careers in music history.

Through its lively instrumentation and youthful exuberance, "I Saw Her Standing There" allowed The Beatles to showcase their ability to blend catchy melodies with relatable themes, laying the groundwork for the innovative songwriting and creativity that would follow in their illustrious career. The song stands as a testament to their lasting legacy in the world of music, as it continues to inspire and resonate with fans around the globe.

[riddlerosehearts]

okay so, long list of fall out boy concert thoughts mostly for myself and also for anyone who cares:

-i've been pretty excited about getting to see bring me the horizon open for them, and they were soooooo fucking good and got me so hyped. oli got off the stage and walked through the crowd at one point which was pretty cool. wish he had come close to me.

-love from the other side is SO hype and so amazing to see live.

-songs like uma thurman and save rock and roll that aren't normally favorites of mine are also hype just because of everyone singing and dancing and having fun and all the awesome fun stage effects! i was in the vip box area and had a great view of said stage effects. i hadn't watched many tourdust videos before so most of them were a surprise to me. loved the underwater background and bubbles some songs had and the spooky forest looking background, loved all the colorful fireworks, fucking loved when they had a giant doberman and it lip sycned during this ain't a scene it's an arms race and pete made it look like he was putting his head in its mouth. wish i got a photo of that.

-i got chicago is so two years ago in the TTTYG slot and i'm happy with that!

-i am still reeling from getting to hear calm before the storm and disloyal order of water buffaloes. it's 2023 and those two songs are permanent fixtures on the setlist. what the fuck.

-have to be honest that i got disappointed for a second when the opening chords to bang the doldrums played for the IOH slot just because like i don't get to go to multiple shows in one tour and don't know when i'll ever get to go to another show where i have a chance to hear hum hallelujah. so yeah i wanted to hear it because it's probably my favorite FOB song.

-BUT after that second of disappointment i was still fucking hyped and dancing and singing wholeheartedly to bang the doldrums because it's a banger, it's something they only started playing live on this very tour, and it's the one that was almost a shrek song, so can i really complain?

-got headfirst slide in the folie slot, it would've been super cool if they switched it for 27 again but i love headfirst slide too so no complaints there!!

-PATRICK PLAYED I'VE GOT ALL THIS RINGING IN MY EARS AND NONE ON MY FINGERS FOR HIS PIANO SOLO?? thank you patrick i love you i owe you my life

-i'm so glad we got one of the best MANIA songs for the tour, last of the real ones was so fun.

-umm okay so oli sykes may not have walked close to me but FUCKING. PETE WENTZ. GOT OFF THE STAGE DURING DANCE DANCE AND WALKED RIGHT BEHIND MY SEAT!?!?! i think my brain broke and i like almost died for a minute. i did not think to record a video of him walking by 😭 i panicked and snapped a blurry photo.

-AND THEN AFTER I GOT DONE SINGING ALONG TO HOLD ME LIKE A GRUDGE!!! THEY SUBJECTED ME TO FROM NOW ON WE ARE ENEMIES AS THE 8 BALL SONG!!

-look, the only reason i didn't put from now on we are enemies on my 8 ball wishlist was i didn't think they would even consider it. i thought it was just too delusional of a pick. i recorded a video of it and i'm pretty sure it starts with me shouting "HOLY SHIT" right at the opening chords and continues with patrick being inaudible because i'm screaming the lyrics

-made me sad that not many people seemed to know the song though :( like i GET IT because a song that was only ever released NOT EVEN as a b-side but on their 2009 greatest hits album and then never ever played live is a pretty big deep cut. but i wish there had been more energy for it. it does help that pete said "that went better than i expected!" afterward, and hey, i bet some people at that show heard it for the first time ever and loved it.

-the flame effects during my songs know what you did in the dark were sooo cool and fun and so were the big sparkly fireworks during thnks fr the mmrs and the confetti everywhere at the end.

-i saw someone say they should take saturday off the setlist. that is the most wrong opinion i've ever heard. fall out boy shows closing with saturday is a 20-year tradition still going strong and i'm so glad i finally got to experience it.

[radiochick]

DEMO 2024 - EP by DEATH MASK Review

Before I get into the review I would like to give a quick overview of the band. Death Mask is a beatdown band from Richmond, VA and I was lucky enough to see them on June 1st at the VFW. They were the openers for the three bands after them (Torment, Westmain, and OK Buddy). I will say for being only an opener they definitely set the tone and energy for the night. I’ve been to other hardcore or grind shows, but that was my first beatdown band I heard live and they definitely were a great first experience. For me to know that I enjoyed the music I have to be able to close my eyes and lose all focus on the outside world and just immerse myself in the music and that’s what I got from them. Now without wasting any more time let’s run down their four demos that were released a while ago, but I just got distracted from writing this piece and making a video.

You have Intro, Trash Bag Burial, Ripped 2 Shreds, and Lacerated Sight. Intro begins with a small clip from the movie Saw II. It’s the Venus Fly Trap scene where a man named Michael must take a key out from his eye socket to survive. I don’t actually know if there is any relevance to the song, but you can make ties between their name and a quote from the movie. Jigsaw calls the contraption around Michael’s neck a “Death Mask” and well the band’s name is Death Mask that’s all there was when I was looking over it. Of course there could be a better meaning; however, I’m only looking at the surface. I really do enjoy a good guttural scream if that is the right word. I find it funny because sounds that usually have me frowning or having a disgusted look on my face when the music is exceptional. There’s not much else to say besides how strong their instruments are. It's a good consistent beat which I enjoy greatly without many switchups that might distort the sound and my amusement along with it.

The second one down the list is Trash Bag Burial. It comes out with another intro from some horror scene in either a movie or TV show (I don’t know where exactly from). With momentum comes out the opening chord strike after a little bit of gunshots. I really like the drum here as it keeps a solid tempo going for you to catch onto and listen through. At about 40 seconds is where the first vocals start and gotta say they always pass the bar. When I heard them the first time I was surprised by it, because sometimes when I go to hardcore shows or watch them live sometimes the vocals just don’t fit with the tone of the instruments. From what I’ve heard from them this would never be something I experience as each member plays so well together. Something else I would like to note is how well they’re able to transition between fast paced moments and the not so fast moments. I’ve gone to a couple hardcore shows where I feel like I’m head banging on tempo, but then I feel like I’m spazzing out as the sound took a shift I wasn’t expecting.

Again their third song, Ripped 2 Shreds, starts off with some movie or TV show quote, then comes in with the guitar playing notes to make it feel like you’re anticipating this arrival for something or someone. Basically what the wedding song does for when the bride is about to walk down the aisle. I have to say that it’s very hard to critique this EP as I really do love their attitude and effort when playing. I mean seriously out of those four Ripped 2 Shreds has to be my favorite as the instruments just come off strong and don’t die down one bit. They keep coming back with better and greater sounds. The best way to describe this is that if the song were edited into one of those 10 hour long loops on youtube I wouldn’t be disappointed. A word of appraisal from me is that their songs have their own individualism to them. They most likely are just using the same instruments for each song, but each one brings their own feeling with it. Which I really do appreciate, as sometimes I see that certain bands have songs that are just a little too similar in sound.

Lastly, their song Lacerated Sight actually does not have an intro and just dives straight into the music. I enjoy how they just go straight into playing with something that keeps going back and forth. Noting the quick changes into another riff or beat. This one definitely carries energy behind perfect for any of you who like to dance hardcore. That is one thing I would note that when I saw them live there was this guy who was dancing crazy. He was jumping around with windmill arms while simultaneously bending his knees so that he was somewhat squatting. After a few seconds of the wind up he would then jump backwards into the crowd behind him still windmilling his arms. As I moved away I just stood in amazement at the sheer energy that guy had on him. Yet that was the first band to where I just didn’t stand still and headbang while at a hardcore show, so I give Deathmask props for that.

https://www.instagram.com/deathmaskrva/

[dustedmagazine]

P.G. Six — Parlor Tricks and Porch Favorites (Amish)

Parlor Tricks and Porch Favorites by P.G. Six

Lately, you’re likely to hear PG Six’s Pat Gubler shading Garcia Peoples’ guitar sprawl with folky modal melodies or wigging out alongside New England psych mainstay Matt Valentine in Wet Tuna or beefing up an already guitar-centric sound in acid folk’s Weeping Bong Band. But before all that, he, along with Valentine, did a lot to invent the whole freak folk genre in Tower Recordings. This debut solo album, originally recorded in 2001 and expanded with eight live and unreleased tracks, comes just after that and continues on from there. Its lysergic takes on ancient tunes make you realize just how freaky the folk genre is, even before you start to fool with it.

Gubler accompanied himself in a range of stringed and keyboarded instruments, some familiar, some not, as well as a mystic flute. His main partner for this disc was Tim Barnes, a drummer who has collaborated with rock and experimental artists including Tony Conrad, Ikue Mori, Sonic Youth, Jim O'Rourke and Jeph Jerman.

The original disc opens and closes with versions of “Letter to Lilli St. Cyr,” one in flute, the other in a reedy, staticky keyboard and the overtone haunted strumming of something like a dulcimer. The sounds are traditional but stretched and distorted into stranger shapes. The traditional song, “When I Was a Young Man,” gets this treatment, too, starting in a ren faire lilt of folky flute and sunlit guitar, a patter of hand drums moving its stately rhythm. Not only elapses, however, before a fuzzed electric shoulders into view, putting buzz and friction under this melancholy frolic. The song ends in a tug of war between its folk and psychedelic forces, with splintered distortions of electric guitar winning out in the end.

That latter song is one of the more well-behaved and gentle cuts from this original collection. The longer cuts push further into alchemical amalgamations of folk and free-rock jam. “Go Your Way,” an Annie Briggs cover and the album’s clear centerpiece, changes shapes like a wizard sloughing off forms. Its radiant picked purity giving way to fluttery sung melody slapped into motion by north African desert rhythms. It dissolves, late in the cut, into pure tone and timber, the sawing dissonance of stringed instruments smoldering, throwing off sudden bright sparks.

“Go Your Way” comes up again in the extra tracks, via a sparer, less free-ranging acoustic version performed at the Dwars Festival in Amsterdam. “When I Was a Young Man” also gets a second look, this time from a radio performance on New York’s WNYU, and an alternate take of “Divine Invasion” was recorded live at the Flywheel in Easthampton; I’m pretty sure I was there. These extra tracks are, to a one, warm and unfussy and assured, Gubler’s clear, unhurried voice drifting over complex webs of crystalline picking.

This expanded version of Parlor Tricks documents a free-wheeling turn-of-the-century scene in which New Weird America was just getting started. Hippie enclaves in California and rural New England had got to wondering, what if you took old British tunes and chords and got them really, really high? The answer was surprisingly wonderful, an art with roots in the past and heads in the clouds, and P.G. Six was as good as anyone at it. Parlor tricks, indeed! This stuff is magic.

Jennifer Kelly

[theloniousbach]

EMMET COHEN with Philip Norris and Kyle Poole!, The Sheldon, 11 MARCH 2023

EMMET COHEN is an up and comer, a real student of the music but far from stuffy. He has technique galore, but he can and did play with great delicacy. He reminds me a bit of Benny Green, but is more charming. He has a long term alliance with Kyle Poole, so there’s the joy of watching their telepathy, signaled by grins, nods, and just brainwaves

I saw them with Russell Hall as the basic rhythm section for a Jazz St Louis workshop with Marquise Hill and Melissa Aldana. I did not see all that many of his Monday night YouTube Live at Emmet’s Place streams, but they provided a service to the community, listeners and players. Just two weeks ago, I caught a Smoke Stream with Yakasushi Nakamura as the bassist.

But third row center with Cohen in profile and looking straight on at Poole (though he looks up and around as he visualizes the music—that may be where he intuits his messages from Cohen. We saw that Jazz St Louis show from the balcony, so it was like he was looking at us) was special. So were the two sets.

They opened with a Willie the Lion Smith tune, closed the first set with The Theme (based on Rhythm changes), closed the second with Count Basie’s Lil Darlin’, delicate enough in the original version. Still beautiful but enough of the big band’s power among the three of them. The encore was full blown I Got Rhythm. The Basie was proceeded by an original rag (at least that’s were it started) meant to evoke the Harlem rent parties of a century ago which he was well aware was what the live streams during lockdown replicated.

There was no Wayne Shorter, instead there was a This Guy’s In Love with You>Alfie Bert Bacharach tribute that dug into the melodies and the rich possibilities of the chords. It also underscored that Cohen was putting his technique to the service of that side of the music. Even when they roared, they stopped on a dime.

There were Latin and Brazilian rhythms on which Poole could explore the kit and standards like Body and Soul (honoring Barry Harris) and Love is a Many Splendored Thing—Cohen knows his history but he did mostly latter day additions to the Great American Song Book.

They kidded Philip Norris, straight out of Julliard (Jail Yard because you can’t gig while you’re in school, for being 25. Yes, Cohen’s seven years make a difference. This was perhaps their third gig together, but they seemed to gel importantly on this night.

They’re all young and together as with Sean Mason, Nicole Glover, and others, the music is alive.

[heyyyharry]

Deja Vu (part 2 of 'Drivers License')

(inspired by deja vu by Olivia Rodrigo)

Word count: 2.5k

Read part 1 here

.

.

.

“What the fuck is this?”

Harry flinched as his girlfriend shoved the phone at him. He’d just got out of the shower, hair still dripping wet, but it wasn’t so out of the ordinary that she would start a fight first thing in the morning.

He sighed and gently pushed her phone away from his face. “Baby, if it’s another rumour about me cheating on you...I was with you this whole week!”

“No.” She lifted the phone up to his face again. “That girl just released another song about you.”

Even though Harry didn’t let it show, whenever he heard about Y/N, his heart would always skip a beat. He couldn’t remember exactly when the last time they’d spoken was, but he knew in his last message to her, he’d congratulated her on that new song about him. She’d never replied, and he’d taken it as the answer — they could never go back to the way it was.

It had broken his heart to listen to ‘drivers license’. Y/N had never been the kind of person to be vocal about her feelings. Or maybe she’d expressed it through actions instead of words, and he had been too nonchalant to see? He hadn’t meant to break her heart and leave her in the dust. After all, she used to be his best friend.

“Y/N’s a songwriter. She writes about her own experience the same way I do. Maybe that song is not even about me, babe,” he calmly told his girlfriend, who was standing in front of him with fresh tears in her eyes. He hated to see her cry, and he hated that this wasn’t the first time she’d done it because of him. He tried to reach for her but she stepped back, shaking her head.

“Listen to the song.”

“Baby.”

“Listen to the song,” his girlfriend repeated without looking at him. “Why are you so afraid?”

“I’m not.”

“Then listen to it and tell me it’s not about you, and that she’s not throwing shades at me. I’m so tired of this girl telling the world about how horrible we are as if you had even dated her in the first place—”

“Fine,” Harry exhaled sharply, his eyes pinched shut. He hated that when his girlfriend got mad, she would get so mean for no reason, and the last thing he wanted to hear right now was her insulting Y/N. He knew Y/N. She had always been respectful to his new relationship. However, he wasn’t in the position to tell his girlfriend how to feel about this situation. He knew it was all his fault, so he stayed quiet, took the phone from his girlfriend and sat down on the edge of the bed. His girlfriend stood with her back against the wall facing him, waiting for him to play the song so she could see his reaction to it.

“Go on,” she told him, her voice emotionless.

Harry looked at the song on Spotify. It was titled deja vu. He took a deep breath and one last look at his girlfriend before finding enough courage to press play.

Y/N’s previous song about him had been blasted in every shop he’d visited, all the time when he was filming, every time he was in the car, and now, the moment he heard her voice again, it really did feel like deja vu.

Car rides down Malibu

Strawberry ice cream

One spoon for two…

.

.

.

“Are we there yet?”

“No, stop being so impatient! Just keep on driving!” Y/N said and looked out of the window on the passenger side. The sun was going down, and the horizon was gradually turning the colour of an egg yolk. It was their last day in Miami. They had been filming for every day that week, and this was the only day they could spend just for themselves.

Harry stole a glance at Y/N and saw that she’d finished half the strawberry ice cream while bobbing her head to the song Uptown Girl on the radio. He frowned, making her laugh when she noticed.

“Open your mouth,” she said and fed him a spoon of ice cream.

“Ahh, brain freeze!”

“But it’s good, isn’t it?”

“So good.” Harry licked his lips. The face he made got Y/N laughing harder.

Fifteen minutes later they arrived at a secluded beach. Y/N had found this place when she traveled to this city alone two summers ago and almost got lost.

Together, she and Harry carried their picnic things through a palm forest, and by the time they saw the ocean, the moon had made a fading presence on the pink Miami sky.

Y/N picked up her shoes and ran towards the waves, letting it chase her back into Harry’s arms and nearly knocking him over. Their laughter echoed in the wind as their shadows stretched out long and lanky on the empty beach. In that very moment, it felt to Harry as if they were the only people in this world, and he had a sense of peace that he might never be able to experience again.

“You don’t get to see this in the city,” Y/N said dreamily as she pulled Harry’s jacket tighter around herself. It was dark now, and the sky above them was full of stars. They sat shoulder to shoulder on a picnic blanket, listening to the whispers of the ocean and the wind. Harry used Y/N’s jacket as a blanket because it was too small for him to put on. They’d laughed for five minutes straight when she told him he looked like that monkey from Aladdin and took plenty of photos just to prove the point.

“I don’t want to leave tomorrow,” he said, still looking at the sky.

“Me neither,” Y/N sighed, her shoulder brushing his. There was a pause, and he could feel her eyes on him, so he turned and saw her looking. “When I get home,” she said with a small smile that made her eyes sparkle, “I’ll learn to drive, and when we come to Miami next time, I can drive you to this beach.”

“I’d love that,” Harry said, then made her pink-promise him.

.

.

.

“They went to Miami last week.”

Y/N blinked. The beach and starry sky disappeared in a second, and she found herself once again standing in the fitting room with her stylist and best friend.

“What?” her best friend marched over to where she stood in front of the full-length mirror.

Her stylist was holding the phone up to show her the article. “Here. Harry took that actress to Miami last week.”

“Don’t show her these!” Y/N’s best friend grabbed the phone and put it on the vanity desk as she gestured to the stylist. “You do your work. Enough chit-chatting.”

“I took him there,” Y/N said. She didn’t even recognise her own voice at first because she was too in shock. She didn’t think Harry would do something like that. But let’s be honest -- how much did she really know about him?

It had been a few months since his last text to her, which she had ignored, and now her song had been overplayed, and nobody cared about the drama anymore. The whole world had moved on, and she had, too. Or so she’d thought. Now, seeing these pictures of him and his girlfriend on that Miami beach made Y/N feel betrayed.

“Asshole,” her best friend said and grabbed her shoulders. “Don’t worry baby. You’re prettier.”

Y/N worked up a smile and opened her mouth to say that she was fine, but then she heard someone call her name and turn around. They weren’t calling for her. Just a name similar to hers that had become an inside joke between her and her friends.

The moment she locked eyes with Harry’s girlfriend, her heart seemed to stop as she held her breath, her lips thinned as if to hold back a scream. She didn’t know the girl personally and had never run into her before today. How unfortunate that they had to be in the same room after Y/N had seen those Miami pics.

“What is she doing here?” Y/N’s best friend asked the stylist the question Y/N was too afraid to ask.

“Fitting for an event, I guess,” the stylist said.

Y/N told them to just ignore the others and mind their own business. The sooner they got the measurements, the faster she could leave. Or she could leave right now and come back another day, but that would make it look like the other girl’s presence was bothering her. They were both actresses, and so they would have to run into each other at some point. She must be professional about it. This was normal. Just act normal.

“He’s so unique,” Harry’s girlfriend said while laughing with her team. Y/N didn’t mean to overhear the conversation, but apparently, the girl was making sure that Y/N heard her loud and clear. “We were watching reruns of Glee last night, and he even sang to me and told me he loved me inbetween the chorus and the verse. Don’t touch the jacket! It’s Harry’s and it’s Gucci. We exchange jackets sometimes. Isn’t that adorable?”

“Show off,” Y/N’s best friend scoffed while shaking her head.

Y/N didn’t say anything. In her mind, she agreed with her best friend for a second and immediately felt that she was being petty so she forced herself to just be nonchalant about it.

She could not. She could not ignore the fact that she’d been replaced as if she didn’t matter. Harry was doing all the things he used to do with her with his new girl. Even taken her to that Miami beach. Their place.

Y/N bit her lip and tried to hold back the half-formed tears in her eyes as the stylist went on talking about the fabric. She chose a random one just to get this over with.

“I hope that fucker gets deja vu.”

“What?” Y/N blinked at her best friend, who gave a mean shrug as she glared at the girl.

“He’s probably thinking of you while doing all that shit with her.”

Y/N pondered over it. Over and over. Even after the girlfriend’s laughter had faded down the hallway, and Y/N was also packing up to leave the studio. Her best friend’s words stayed with her as she got into the car and watched the street of London pass by her window.

That night, when she was alone in her living room with her piano. She sat down and started playing a few experimental chords. Then, she cried. Her tears blurred the handwritten lyrics on her notebook as she tried again.

“I have this idea,” she told her manager on the phone before sending the recording. It was three in the morning.

“Oh my god,” her manager exclaimed, sounding much more enthusiastic than he had when picking up her call. “This song...is so gonna win a Grammy!”

.

.

.

Y/N’s song had won a Grammy.

They had talked about it for so long. Harry had encouraged her to pursue a singing career, because she’d started out as an actress but was blessed with the most beautiful voice he had ever heard.

Ironic, wasn’t it? Now he was sitting at the front row and looking up at her as she received the award from an artist she looked up to, for the song written about him. She smiled at the crowd as the light shone on her and everyone was cheering because she deserved this. She said her thanks and expressed her gratitude to her family, her teams and her fans. She didn’t say his name. He hadn’t hoped that she would, because he knew there was no way his name would come with a positive message. So he was kind of glad she hadn’t mentioned him.

His girlfriend squeezed his arm as if she knew what he was thinking of. He smiled at his girlfriend. A smile of reassurance. They had put it behind them and promised to try again after all the fights about the song they were playing right now. Nothing would change after tonight. Because there was nothing Harry could change.

He caught Y/N’s eyes for one brief moment as she ascended the stage. Although he was sure he loved his girlfriend, there was something about that look that made him sad. Would he be happier to come here with Y/N tonight instead of his girlfriend? He wouldn’t know, because that would never happen. He didn’t even know if she still resented him, or if she was still the same person he remembered. A lot could change in a day let alone many months. And it was scary to think someone you used to know so much had become a complete stranger. The opposite of love wasn’t hate. It was indifference. And Harry felt it deeply as Y/N never paid him a second glance.

At the after-party, he worked up the courage to approach her when he found her standing alone texting on her phone.

“Hi. How are you?” he said.

Y/N looked at him as if she couldn’t understand English. If she ignored him and walked away, this would be the most humiliating moment of his life.

But no. She pressed her lips into a gentle smile and said, “I’m good. How are you?”

“Good.” He nodded, wanting to shake her hand, but his fingers stayed glued together behind his back. “Congratulations on your win.”

“Thank you.” She picked up the glass of wine on the table beside them, and Harry knew he’d lost his chance of shaking her hand tonight. “Did you like the song?”

“Yeah. It was good,” he said, finding it difficult to hold eye contact with her. There was something new about her that unsettled him, and he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For speaking out about it.”

“Oh.” Y/N showed no emotion as she shrugged. “It’s alright. I only said the truth. The song was fictional, and I don’t want anyone to get hate for it.”

They both knew it wasn’t true, and he couldn’t tell her that his girlfriend had almost broken up with him for it. Even if he had told her that, he didn’t think Y/N would care. She didn’t look like the Y/N he knew anymore. Suddenly, he recalled that night on the beach, when she was still looking at him with feelings.

“Look, Y/N, I—”

Before he got a chance to form a proper thought for what he was going to say, his girlfriend, who was obviously drunk, shouted from somewhere behind him. “Babe, Jeff’s wearing a tiny jacket! He looks more like the monkey than you!”

Harry looked at Y/N. She held his gaze. The corners of her red lips quirked as she raised her glass. “Deja vu?”

Just like that, she left him standing there all by himself.

[jesuisgourde]

Thoughts, both positive and bitchy, on the Manics/Suede show in Chicago tonight.

I knew the Manics (and Suede) weren’t very well known in the US but I was definitely expecting the Chicago venue to be more full than it was. But it was so empty! I’m cheap so I bought a mezzanine/dress circle ticket since it was only $80 compared to the $150 or whatever for the pit area. There were only 6 people including me in the entire row I was sat in. It definitely seemed like most people were at this gig for Suede rather than for the Manics; the crowd was far more responsive for Suede.

The decision they’ve been making recently to start the set with You Stole The Sun From My Heart is a weird, interesting one. It sort of makes sense, the song is bouncy and energetic, and lyrically/sound-wise it sort of sits right smack in the middle of all the different sounds and styles they’ve had. But it’s still an odd song to start off with because it’s not one of their more popular ones. When I last saw them in 2018 they opened both shows (London and Cardiff) with International Blue. It definitely took them a second to get into the groove, You Stole The Sun and Everything Must Go were their first two songs and they seemed like they were trying to suss out their energy. But they played La Tristessa Durera next and I really started moving to that one because I loooove GATS. Two of the Suede fans sat in front of me kinda laughed when I suddenly started dancing more than I was before. La Tristessa Durera is one of my favorite Manics songs (at least in part because of this video where you can really hear just how much of a fucking metronome of badassery Sean Moore is.)

I’m not really a fan of Wayne Murray’s backing vocals, to be honest. His voice and JDB’s don’t really mesh and a lot of times his vocals are a little off and it makes it very distracting. It was less noticeable in 2018, but here in this tiny gig I definitely noticed it. I’d rather just listen to JDB with no backing tbh.

They had a fog machine which was very cool and much more effective in this little venue than when I saw them at Wembley and Cardiff. There were points when James was engulfed in or aura’ed by colored fog right at the right time during a song which I thought was just great as a visual.

Ocean Spray was just so beautiful. I like that song on the album but as a live song it’s absolutely gorgeous and I loved it. The album version just ends on the normal tempo into a held chord, but live they slowed to that held chord in this really grim but beautiful way and knowing what the song is about just made the decision to end it that way such a good one, even if it is really sad.

Motorcycle Emptiness was dedicated to Nicky’s brother Patrick who is apparently laid up because he “fucked his leg,” and who lived in Chicago in the 90s. JDB did this awesome ascending “Yeah!” vocal riff after “All we want from you are the kicks you’ve given us.” Also he activated his twirly guitar spins for Motorcycle Emptiness.

I had this moment while they were playing and I was staring up at the green lights reflected on the ceiling where I was thinking about the lyrics to Motorcycle Emptiness and how relevant they are now, even more than they were in the 90s when it was written. Computers didn’t yet exist in the pocket-sized ubiquitous state as we know them now, Amazon didn’t exist yet, all the different ways for corporations and institutions to use the internet in order to mess with people’s self esteems or body image or political opinions or sense of right and wrong or ability to think critically or whatever, none of that existed yet. Yes, it existed as a concept but not put to such immediate effect as it is online. I said it before, in a different post a while ago, but I’m glad Richey didn’t live to see the internet era. I think it would have been awful for him both in terms of his mental health and in terms of his disgust or frustration with humanity’s ability for independent critical thinking.

They played Suicide Is Painless and Slash N Burn which were both good but nothing amazing. I did notice that JDB now tends to go down vocally when the original music goes up, or to sort of sing-speak the tune rather than do all the high parts. I’m not sure if that’s a permanent new thing (fair, it starts getting harder to go higher as you get older) or if his vocal chords needed a rest tonight.

Tolerate was really good; Nicky had his bass balanced on his head at the end for some reason? International Blue is just a great live song. It really fills up the room. They played The Everlasting, which has always just sort of been a meh song for me, but it sounded better live than it does on the album, so maybe it’s one of those songs that needs to have open space rather than headphones to really do well. I feel the same about YLAINE. I’m very aware that I’ve got Unpopular Manics Opinions and my dislike of YLAINE makes me a blasphemer as a ‘manixfan’ but I just don’t care about YLAINE. However, it’s very fun live (even with Wayne singing Nina Persson’s parts).

Nicky dedicated From Despair To Where to “the severe beauty and intellect of Richey Edwards.” He also told a Fun Fact about how the music video for Roses In The Hospital was filmed in Chicago in 1993, and they had to get James up at 5 in the morning so they could catch the morning sun while filming, and he was not happy about it. I love like every song from GATS because apparently I am determined to be contrarian to everything most Manics fans like (except not really because THB is my actual favorite) so I was really happy to hear it and it sounded great.

They’ve been covering She Sells Sanctuary by The Cult on this tour but they didn’t tonight and that was so disappointing because I absolutely adore that song and I have it as one of my alarm clock songs. They didn’t do any covers tonight, and looking at setlists from the rest of this tour it looks like they did Despair To Where instead of a cover. Walk Me To The Bridge sounded great and is another one of those songs that showcases how much of a metronome Sean is. JDB’s twirls returned during Walk Me To The Bridge too.

You Love Us was the second to last song and it was so funny to hear just how much faster and more punk it was than anything else they played tonight. Even Slash N Burn was slower, I think. And Motorcycle Emptiness has a complicated solo but it’s not actually fast. The audience was definitely more of a Suede audience because You Love Us tends to get quite a bit more reaction than it did tonight.

The last song was, as usual, A Design For Life. It sounded great, and at one point after the first “to show the scars / from where I came” line, both James and Nicky twirled toward each other, James spinning clockwise and Nicky spinning anticlockwise, which might have been planned but didn’t look it, but it did look very cool. During the middle eight Nicky said “From snowy Chicago to [something I didn’t catch] Wales, do not gently into that good night, do not go gently into that good night.”

It was an odd show for me. I had the good fortune that my first ever two live Manics shows were for the 2018 tour at Wembley Arena and their final homecoming show at Cardiff Motorpoint, which means that it was populated by a really enthusiastic audience, and I was on the barrier, and Nicky Wire wore a skirt for both gigs and sang a Sex Pistols song at Cardiff. So it was like the two very opposite ends of the spectrum in terms of gigs. London and Cardiff were massively enthusiastic (minus one small setback in Cardiff that affected only me and the people I was with in which some drunk motherfucker pissed on my friend because he didn’t want to leave the barrier and I was fully ready to fight him) and had loads of energy and there was like a feeling of “we are all extremely passionate about this one thing.” This Chicago show was much more subdued. Part of that is probably because it was seated (which is just bizarre to me, I can’t understand seated rock music gigs) but also probably because there were more Suede fans, and maybe some people there to see any show who didn’t really know either band.

I’m glad they didn’t play any songs from the new album because I hated the new album, but I do wish there was some more non-greatest hits. All the songs I’d kill to see live (Anorexic Rodin, Red Rubber, Intravenous Agnostic, To Repel Ghosts, Judge Yr’self) they’ll never ever do live, but I do wish they’d do a few underplayed songs just for the hardcore fans, because they must know that you have to be pretty dedicated to be an American Manics fan.

The woman sitting next to me had never seen either band and had been waiting like 20 years to see them, so she was super excited, which was very cool to see! She and I were talking about how we bought up tickets really fast because we both assumed they’d sell out from US fans who had been waiting for ages to see them, and then we were surprised when it was so empty. It makes me wish they’d chosen a slightly smaller venue, which would have been more intimate and maybe also drummed up more energy.

I don’t know Suede’s music very well. Dog Man Star is the only album I know all the songs off of, and I know a lot of their self-titled album and then some other random songs. But they’re absolutely fantastic live even without knowing their complete discography. Brett Anderson is dramatic as hell. They were having minor technical problems from the start, some feedback that got fixed and then some other something that I couldn’t identify because I didn’t know the songs well enough to know what they were or weren’t supposed to sound like.

But Brett put on a hell of a show, strutting and prowling around the stage and walking through the audience and variously getting down on his knees to hold his mic up all dramatically. It’s hilarious to watch a man in his mid-fifties stalking sharply round the stage on all fours but also I loved it and I think I’m a Suede fan now. He did The Wild Ones (my favorite out of the few songs I know) acoustically, and I’m not sure if this was just him being dramatic in a way that’s Normal for him, or if something was up, but he played like the first verse and half the chorus with the guitar, and then stopped and put his head down, and then dramatically did most of the rest of the song a capella, before playing the last few lines with the guitar again, repeating the “running with the dogs today” line a few extra times. I genuinely felt like I was watching a Hamlet soliloquy, it was great. I think maybe I watched a Shakespeare play as a rock concert.

It did make me think about the Manics vs Suede in terms of audience engagement. Somebody I was talking to on twitter said they don’t think the Manics know what to do with American audiences when those audiences are in this middle range of size, because when it comes to American Manics fans the majority are hardcore fans who would rather hear some of the less well known but very beloved by the dedicated fans songs rather than get drunk and hear the greatest hits. I think if they’d played venues the size of the ones they played when they were here in 2014, or just a little bigger rather than ones the size of this show (like 1k capacity rather than 3k capacity venue) it would have been so much better. And they haven’t really been a “be dramatic and dynamic and engage with the fans onstage” sort of band since about 1998, which means that if the majority of the audience don’t know their work very well, they’ve got nothing much to react to visually or “interpersonally” and therefore aren’t going to be super enthusiastically responsive. Playing and trusting there will be engagement based on merit and fan culture only is certainly successful in the UK and probably Europe, but it’s definitely different here. It seemed like a lot of the audience didn’t know the songs well enough to respond to them and since the Manics don’t do things like get in the audience or crawl around on the floor or go into over the top monitor-stomping, there’s not a lot to grab onto visually that will hook a non-fan at a live show. Meanwhile I’m casually familiar with the Dog Man Star album and vaguely know a few other Suede hits off their other early albums, but I could only name 3 of the songs I heard tonight (The Wild Ones, The Drowners, We Are The Pigs) and yet I was having so much fun watching Brett just be chaotic and theatrical, swaggering all over the stage and dropping dramatically to his knees and such. It’s definitely just style differences in general, and I’m sure they don’t expect to gain much from this tour, but I did find it an interesting observation in the moment.

[teenyweenynightghost]

As lucky as the rainbow

A/n: Im sorry. Also. Special dedication to the love of my life, @cantaraiilmionome , who let me write this fic

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 1.7K

Pairing: Vic X Fem!Reader

Taglist: @fuckim-so-gay @ginny-lily @messyhairday-me @cheese-toastie-11 @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @simp-per-ethan @maneskinrollercoaster @juststalking @superchrystaldrug @immrbrightsideeee​ @shehaddreamstoo​ @tiaamberxx​ @victoriadeangeliswifey​ @bidet-and-legolas​ @makapaka11​ 

My heartbeat was wild and mostly erupting from my chest as the whole world around me seemed to quiet down. The mesh shirt I was wearing was already crumpled from all the times I had fiddled with it nervously. To be honest, could anyone really blame me? I have been obsessed with Måneskin for ages, and I finally get to see them live. A small, really pesky part of my brain kept bugging me. They would have no reason to like or notice you; why are you even here? Well, that definitely did not help the anxious feeling growing in my stomach.

Suddenly, the crowd erupted in cheers as four rock stars appeared on the stage.

And oh god what they were wearing. A certain blonde caught my attention, one who I was more than familiar with. Victoria strutted on the stage, her bass strap wrapped around her, as a small corset did nothing to cover her. Two black stripes of tape covered each of her boobs and she looked celestial. It was unfair to everyone else! How could she just look like that!?

“Is everyone ready?” Damiano’s strong voice sounded out of the speakers, earning an excited cheer from everyone.

As they started playing, I realised I was no longer anxious. Moving from side to side and jumping along with them, It felt as If the world stopped temporarily just for me to enjoy this moment. It was truly heaven, and their magnetic presence made it infinitely better.

“Now, for a fan favorite…” Damiano spoke into the mic, soon interrupted by the all too familiar notes of For Your Love. Oh god.

I couldn’t decide who to pay attention to; Ethan’s godly form playing the drums in a way I wished he would play my ass, Thomas’ talented fingers strumming the guitar chords, Damiano fucking the stage while singing or-

Oh.

I was one of the lucky ones who got to sit up front. So my view of Victoria was truly a dream come true. Her eyes were closed as she thrusted into the air, her hips moving with precision and skill, as she moved her head backwards in rhythm with the song. Two of her fingers were plucking the chords, clouding my mind with thoughts of what else she could do with them.

The whole song became a vivid fantasy for me, as I kept watching Victoria play, entranced by her sensuality. The song sadly came to a stop, and Damiano started speaking again. My lovely brain, however, could only gaze at Victoria, her wonderful top and fingers.

As If on cue, she knelt down right at the edge of the stage, and winked at me. Wait, she did what? My brain stopped functioning as I kept staring at her, eyes comically wide and mouth hanging open.

She smirked at my reaction, and motioned for me to come closer with her finger. A bodyguard came and opened the barrier, as I made my way through.

I was right in front of the stage, looking in her icy blue eyes. She leaned down and cupped my cheek, shaking it softly.

“Wanna stay here, cucciola?” She asked,  a sultry smile appearing on her face. I nodded eagerly, causing her to laugh, before returning to her band.

The rest of the concert managed to make me so wet I was convinced my knees would give in the second I would try to walk. Between Victoria grinding on the floor right in front of me, making sure to stare right in my eyes, Damiano jumping in the crowd and grabbing Thomas, as well as Ethan being an overall god-like presence.

It was, however, over, as soon as it started. My face fell as they all waved their goodbyes to the crowd, and I turned around, preparing to leave, but was soon interrupted by a guard.

“Miss De Angelis said that she would like you to go backstage.”

That was the second time the girl’s actions shocked me. I certainly hoped it wouldn’t be the last as I followed the guard to the back.

“Ah, there you are, cucciola!” Her raspy voice exclaimed, as she headed towards me and grabbed my waist, leading me towards a changing room before I could even mutter a word.

“You, I me- mean ...Why? Like… I just thi-I” Damn it, where was my wittiness when I needed it? If I wasn’t already blushing, I probably looked like a sweaty tomato right now.

“Oh darling, I suggest you figure out how to talk, so I’ll know how to please you later.” She murmured in my ear, my knees almost giving up at her words.

“Oh god, umm, I- hi.” I managed to let out. I’m so glad I could ramble about crystals for 3 hours but when It comes to basic greetings my mind just dips. Lovely.

“We have about 15 minutes before we need to leave.” She said, grabbing my body and pulling me right against her, softly nibbling on my neck.

“Considering the way you fucked the stage earlier, I think even 5 would suffice.” Ah yes, my brain was back. Temporarily, though, because Victoria’s hungry lips smashed into mine in a fraction of a second, quickly turning me around so I would be prompted against the wall.

We moved in sync as she sucked every breath out of me and explored my mouth with her tongue. She bit my lip hard, and licked the reddish spot which appeared, before moving onto my neck.

She sucked on every inch of my skin, leaving deep red marks in her wake, which would definitely be an interesting subject of discussion once I got home. I couldn’t help but let out the most pathetic whines, which only seemed to turn Victoria on more.

“So fucking desperate puppy. All I do is dance a little on stage and you’re already willing to be on your knees for me.” She purred right against my breast, earning a deep moan from my treacherous mouth,

“What can I say, I like being a good girl.”

Her mouth bit into the soft skin which was now exposed, as my poor shirt was laying on the floor, discarded seconds ago. I whimpered and bucked my hips into the air, whining even more at the realisation that there was nothing there.

“Please..” I begged, as she kept kissing and licking around my hardened buds, heating me up even more.

“Take your pants off, then” She instructed, and I did it in a heartbeat, the piece of clothing joining my shirt.

The last thing I saw was the blonde’s head lower , before her tongue finally gave me what I wanted. She swiped it deeply inside of me, humming at the liquids pouring from me. Moving to my clit, she started circling around it as one of her long fingers thrusted deep inside of me.

“Fuck… Victoria…” 

She added another finger and quickened her pace, as I rapidly approached my edge. God, no one did it as well as her. She was getting rougher by the second, biting at my thighs and sucking hardly, until she heard my breath catch, before I erupted in a mess of loud moans and screams.

I came hard on her hand as she guided me down to the ground, licking the tears falling from my eyes.

“You really do like being a good girl.” She whispered, cupping my cheek and pressing a soft kiss on my puffy lips.

“Oh I can be bad too.” I smirked, watching as her eyes darkened.”

“How about you return to the hotel with me, and we can explore that talent too…”

***

More than half an hour had passed, and I was sitting in an Uber right next to Victoria. While the band packed up their stuff, I hung out on the stage, eating a popsicle Damiano had given me.

“Do you have to be anywhere early tomorrow?” Victoria’s voice interrupted my thoughts, softly grazing her fingers over my thighs.

“Like I wouldn’t cancel them for you.” I responded, earning a soft chuckle from her.

“Excellent. How about we talk a little then, hmm?” She asked, pulling me closer to her.

“About what?” I asked, clearly thinking of innocent topics.

“Which was your favourite part about how I fucked you backstage.”

Oh. My. God. At this point, my brain had stopped working so many times, I probably had approximately 2 brain cells left. And damn, I answered in a corresponding fashion.

“I must say I enjoyed the talking.” 

Victoria laughed, a devilish grin forming on her face, as I bet her mind filled with the dirtiest ideas.

“I’ll take your word for it. I’ll make sure we’ll do just enough talking.”

“Wait no- You know, I really liked the cum part too.” I tried to save myself, because let’s be honest, If this woman was anything, it was a tease.

“Considering how loud you were moaning, I bet you were.” She purred again, dragging her fingers further up my thighs.

“Tell me, what did you fantasise about most while watching me play?”

My mind went blank, but not really, as the thought of her grinding on my face while practicing the bass made its way into my head. God, I was royally fucked.

“Tell me, pet.” She snarled against my neck, grabbing it roughly and bending me over.

Her hand wandered down to my ass, grabbing it roughly before slithering back around to my stomach, and pulling me up again.

“Practicing your bass on my face.” I moaned out, red and embarrassed.

“A lovely imagination you have. I’ll make sure to consult it more often.” 

“That won’t work. It seems to go blank around you.” 

Victoria smirked at my confession and pressed me down onto her lap, slowly working her way under my shirt. 

“I really like this. Where did you get it?”

“My mom.”

“She wears this?”

Fuck. “Oh, you meant the shirt?”

Scoffing and rolling her eyes, she pulled the material up, and pressed a wet kiss to both of my breasts. Oh god, this girl would kill me.

“My special thanks to her. And also my apologies, because I’ll fuck you till you scream and cry tonight.”

[idreamofplaid]

Dean Lives Forever

Square Filled: Impala for @spndeanbingo

Characters: Jensen/Dean x Reader; Jared and Kripke mentioned

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Jensen is having a hard time with Supernatural being over. The reader has an idea to help him deal with his feelings.

Word Count: 2409

A/N: This is for you @lovealways-j. Thanks for your friendship and all the thirsty exchanges.

“Will you play something for me?” You hopefully held Jensen’s guitar out to him. He’d been home for three days now since filming on The Boys had finished, and in that time he’d eaten only egg sandwiches and barely said anything. Eventually, he’d open up and talk about it. Right now he was processing. That’s what Jensen did.

You’d known it wouldn’t be easy for him, being a different character after Dean Winchester had lived in his skin for fifteen years. It was almost a doppelganger type situation it had gone on so long. Dean was like a separate entity that came to life through Jensen every time Jensen flipped that switch, and flipping that switch had become increasingly easy over the years until the lines between Jensen and Dean were blurred.

Jensen took the guitar from you and turned on the barstool to face out from the kitchen toward the breakfast nook and give himself more room to play. He placed the instrument on his leg and started to pluck at the strings. Soon the familiar chords of “Simple Man” filled the air. 

He started to sing the words to the song he loved so much in his smooth soulful voice and had almost made it through the first verse when he stopped. His fingers strummed at the strings of the guitar for a few more seconds before they stopped moving too.

It was a Dean song. Jensen had always said it would become real to him that Supernatural was over when he walked onto another set and had to be somebody else. For the past several months, that’s what he’d done; and he had to do it alone. The travel restrictions were still in place while he was filming. That meant you couldn’t be there; Jared couldn’t be there. Jensen was alone in his head, and he was inclined to think too much sometimes.

The separation hadn’t been easy on you either. You’d lost sleep more than one night after a Facetime call when you knew things weren’t quite right, and Jensen was doing his best to put on a good face for you. He was a good actor, but he wasn’t good enough to hide what he was really feeling from you.

The irony was you had been able to see Jared, and the two of you had met for lunch regularly when he had a day off from Walker. Jared and Jensen were a package deal. You’d known that from the beginning and were more than happy to get a best friend/brother included in the greatest boyfriend ever set. Your conversations had centered largely around Jensen and the ending of Supernatural.

Jared was worried about him too because he knew how hard it was to let Sam go, and the truth was he hadn’t. He couldn’t. Jared provided a lot of insight into the things Jensen might be feeling that he wasn’t telling you about. 

Jared’s words echoed in your mind now as you watched Jensen set his guitar down on the terrazzo tile. He’s got to figure out how to make Dean part of him and any other character he plays, because Dean’s not going anywhere. 

You walked closer to stand between Jensen’s open legs and run your hands through his once again short hair.  Your fingertips massaged his scalp, and he leaned into your touch. “You miss him, don’t you?” you asked quietly.

Jensen opened his jade green eyes, and you could see the melancholy in them, the touch of heartache. He tried to laugh, but it was more of a heavy exhale through his nose and a sad smile. “I know it’s stupid. It’s been a year.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth. “It’s not stupid at all.” Then you took Jensen’s hand in yours, an idea forming in your head and putting a gleam in your eye. “Go get dressed. And when I say dressed I mean put on some plaid. None of this one layer business either. That’s not the Winchester Way.”

“What are you up to, Y/N?” Jensen narrowed his eyes, making the crinkles at their corners more prominent.

“We’re taking your Baby for a ride, so get your sexy ass off this barstool and go get ready.”  You gave his butt a good smack. That would either get him moving or get his dick twitching; both would be ideal.

Fifteen minutes later, Jensen was backing Baby out of her special garage with you in the passenger seat. Driving her was like swimming; you didn’t forget how no matter how long it’d been since you last saw water. Watching the way he handled his beloved Impala was a huge turn on. It had been when you’d watched “Dean” do it on your television screen, and it was even more so now.

As he steered her down the long driveway, Jensen asked, “Where do you want to go?”

You were distracted by the sight of his forearms, with their prominent veins, peeking out from the rolled up cuffs of the red and black flannel he was wearing; and didn’t respond immediately. He looked over at you, saw you checking him out, and smiled. “Why don’t you come closer? You’re too far away.”

Jensen had changed practically nothing on the car. Installing an air conditioner was a must, but he’d wanted her to stay as much the same as she had been as she could possibly be. That included no seat belts, so you could slide across the bench seat until you were next to him. Jensen put his hand on your thigh. “That’s better,” he said. “Now, tell me where to take you.”

You put your head on his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. Just find a pretty backroad, and let’s drive.”

When he’d driven far enough out of Austin that the road was mostly deserted, you started to kiss Jensen’s neck and nibble at his ear. “How many girls do you think Dean had in this car?” you asked while you blew into his ear. 

“Do you mean had or had?” Jensen moved his hand around to the inside of your thigh and eased it higher up your leg, bringing it closer to your core.

“I think you know what I mean.” You wriggled down in the seat until your pussy made contact with his hand.

Jensen rubbed his thick fingers along the seam of your jeans, making you squirm. “Oh, I imagine he had quite a few.”

“Is this what he did with them? What you’re doing to me right now?” You rubbed yourself against his hand and moaned.

“Among other things.” Jensen’s voice had dropped down into the Dean register. “Why don’t you, uh, open those jeans you’re wearin’, and I’ll show you.” 

He glanced at you, his hand still teasing you through the denim. His expression had changed. You were looking into the eyes of Dean Winchester. He could still fall back into character in an instant.

You opened them up, granting him access to the cotton and lace trimmed panties you were wearing underneath. Dean slipped his hand under the waistband and curled his finger right up against your clit. He started making circles over the already aching nub and applied enough pressure to make you feel like you could come apart at any second.

“You are so wet, sweetheart.” He was watching the road, but his focus was on you. “I bet you’re tight too.” He said it like he didn’t know.

The idea that he was completely in character now, and it was Dean touching you made you come all over his hand. You couldn’t grab him like you wanted to, so you clawed at the seat beside you instead while your orgasm flowed through you in waves that made you weak. 

When your body stopped shaking, Dean pulled his hand from your pants and made a show of cleaning your juices off his fingers. God. His lips. You wanted to feel them on you. He was so close you could smell him, but you needed to be closer. You buried your face in his neck and breathed him in. “Find somewhere to pull over,” you told him. “Somewhere off the road where nobody can see.”

Dean/Jensen knew these Texas backroads, and within a short time he’d found a secluded place to park Baby. “Let’s get in the back,” you said, laying your hand over the swelling bulge between his legs. 

“Sounds good to me, sweetheart.” He kissed you once. His mouth claiming yours, and his need for you evident in the way his tongue tangled with yours. Then Dean opened the door. You smiled when you heard it make the familiar groaning squeak. He got out and gave you his hand to help you out of the car. 

As soon as you were both in the back seat and the door had closed solidly behind him, you reached for his belt. You couldn’t get him out of his clothes fast enough, and he’d worn all the layers just like you’d asked him to. With your clothes piled on the floorboard, you explored each other’s bodies with your hands and your mouths. 

Dean made his mark on you, leaving hot kisses on your stomach, your breasts, and the insides of your thighs. His touch was a little different than the one you were used to, a little heavier with an almost desperation to feel alive through the act of joining your body with someone else’s. 

You knew people said that Jensen should win awards for his acting, and you could verify that they were right because the way he kissed you, the way he touched you, it was tender, caring, and passionate. But the love wasn’t there. This man appreciated you, wanted you, worshipped your body, but he didn’t love you. It was Jensen who loved you.

The way he moved inside you was different too. His thrusts were deep and sharp, then he would slow down and roll his hips until you were begging for him to give you more. When he came inside you, the sound of your name on his lips was a more primal thing. It was basic and raw. This was sex for the sake of the pure physical pleasure, and it felt amazingly good. You clenched him tightly, determined to milk every drop of the pain out of him. 

Immediately after the finish of your mind numbing orgasm, he rolled off of you. “Thank you, baby.” Jensen.

You turned toward him and propped yourself over him, so you could look down into his face. What you saw confirmed what you’d heard in the change of his voice. It was the man you loved. You kissed him, and it was the kiss you knew. It was filled with a soft intensity that made you feel loved, wanted, chosen, and trusted.

You were overwhelmed by how much this man meant to you. Dean Winchester was as sexy as any man had ever been, but it was Jensen you were going to marry one day, Jensen who held your heart. It was Jensen who always thought of you in so many little ways like a true gentleman would.

As if to prove it, he asked, “Are you cold?” He rubbed his hand down your back to check and apparently decided you were, because he sat up and retrieved his flannel from the floorboard. “Here. Put this on,” he told you as he helped you into it and buttoned up some of the buttons in the middle, enough to keep the shirt closed. 

You settled back beside him, his arms wrapped securely around you. His body was warmer than any flannel. You placed soft kisses on his chest, then lay your head down on it. “It’s okay to miss him,” you whispered while you traced mindless patterns over Jensen’s heart with your fingertip. “It’s okay to be him again sometimes too if that’s what you need. He’s part of you, Jensen. Always will be.”

“It’s been so damn hard these past few months.” You kissed his chest again to encourage him to go on. “I hear ‘action’ and to me that means be Dean, but I couldn’t. I had to fight it. I couldn’t walk like him, or sound like him, or make any of the gestures he would have made. And, yeah, I missed him.”

“I missed being on set with Jared too, having him to play off of. We made each other better. We had a rhythm when we were doing a scene that was just natural. So natural, it almost wasn’t acting.” You could feel his arms tighten around you the slightest bit. ”I felt like I forgot how to act.” 

You kissed him again, letting your lips linger on his skin before you pulled them away. “I wish I could have been there for you. I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.”

He tried to laugh again, just like he had earlier in the kitchen. It was a little closer to a real laugh. “I couldn’t be Dean Winchester forever, could I?”

You raised your head up to look at him. “That’s not even a question, Jensen.” You smiled when you said it. “You will be Dean forever. You can’t get him out of you. Stop trying to fight it. You’ve proved you can play another character. Eric can’t stop raving about how good you are, and I’m sure when the season is released everyone else is going to see that too.”

He reached up and took your face in his hand. “I’m one lucky son of a bitch to have you.” Your smile got bigger.

“See. That was Dean right there.” Realization crossed Jensen’s face. He shook his head and smiled, really smiled.

“So, you’re saying you wouldn’t mind if I bring Dean out to play every once in awhile?” The smile was still on his face, and it was beautiful. 

“I wouldn’t mind that at all.” You kissed him then with a light flirtiness for the first time that day. “In fact I think it would be a good idea for us to do that. We better keep you in practice because everybody knows Supernatural is coming back, and we don’t want Dean to come across like Soldier Boy,” you said playfully.

Jensen flipped you beneath him. “Soldier Boy? I’ll show you Soldier Boy.”

And that’s a story for another time...

Everything: @gambitwinchester​ @princessmisery666​ @peridottea91​ @beenlovingromansincedayoneish​ @emilyshurley​ @fangirlxwritesx67​ @waywardbaby​ @atc74​ @shaniquacynthia​ @mariekoukie6661​ @tumbler-tidbits​ @67-chevy-baby​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @emoryhemsworth​ @crashdevlin​ @jules-1999​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @sammyimpala-67​ @queenoftheunderdark​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @timelordy-fangirl2​ @sweetness47​ @hobby27​ @awesomesusiebstuff​ @kickingitwithkirk​ @becs-bunker​ @sandlee44​ @supernaturalgrandma​ @sea040561​ @dawnie1988​ @volleyballer519​ @kdfrqqg​ @lizette50​ @daisymoder72​ @sorenmarie87​ @lovealways-j​ @deansotherotherblog​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @spnbaby-67​ @wayward-and-worn​ @asthesunwentdown​ @vulgar-library​ @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ @petitgateau911​ @calaofnoldor​

Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee​ @flamencodiva​ @deanwinchesterswitch​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @focusonspn​ @akshi8278​ @ladywinchester1967​ @sgarrett49​ @wingedcatninja​ @coffee-obsessed-writer​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @ellewritesfix05​ @weepingwillowphoenix​

[collecting-stories]

Jealous - Luke Patterson

Summary: You bring a friend to a concert with you and Luke gets the wrong idea. 

A/N: this it like, alive!Luke, it’s also like 3k long 😭😭

Julie and the Phantoms Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Luke pouted, leg twitching as he looked around the small venue that Alex had booked them that night. The doors had only just opened and people were beginning to stream in. They’d played shows before but Luke was still surprised watching people come through the doors. He honestly couldn’t believe anyone had bought tickets. There was no doubt in Luke’s mind that they were the greatest band ever but seeing other people agree with that sentiment always made him feel like he was on cloud nine. Hanging a little over the second-floor balcony of the venue, watching every person that walked through the door, he wanted to be excited but his nerves had nothing to do with the show tonight.  

“Would you chill man?” Alex chided, tapping Luke’s arm with a bottle of water. “She’ll be here.”

“She hasn’t missed a performance yet.” Reggie pointed out, spinning on a stool that he’d nabbed from the bar.

“Yeah, I know that.” Luke insisted, standing up but glancing back over his shoulder, “she said she’d make it before doors though...”

Ever since Julie had started playing with the guys, you had started hanging around more. You were embarrassed to say but you and Julie had been little more than friendly neighbors before she’d starting renting out her garage for band practice. The first time you’d heard the loud music coming from the Molina’s yard you’d gone to inspect and found the doors open and a band rehearsing inside. Needless to say, it was that first meeting that had cemented yours and Luke’s relationship. Not exactly more than friends but certainly not just friends. The more you came around the more the two of you danced around your feelings for each other and the more you neglected your other friends.  

-

“Just, don’t say anything to the guys-”

“You mean, don’t say anything to Luke.” Julie countered, standing at her locker with you in between classes. Tonight, was the show at the Voltage Lounge and they’d been stoked about it since they got the gig. You would’ve been equally stoked, and you were, until you realized it was also your best friend’s birthday and you had promised to get dinner together.  

“Look, I’ll be there, before doors, I promise. But I’ve kinda been ditching my other friends lately and I promised Mikey that we’d get dinner for his birthday.” You replied, shutting your locker and walking with Julie toward the music room.  

“Don’t you think not telling Luke you’re going out with another guy would be worse than saying you’re gonna be a little late to the show?” Julie countered. She grabbed a seat by Flynn and you sat on the other side, leaning forward to keep the conversation going.  

“I just don’t want him thinking I’m ditching the performance okay, me and Mikey are just friends...as are me and Luke.” You replied, though even saying it sounded like a lie. You knew as well as Julie and Flynn that you were avoiding mentioning the dinner because you didn’t want Luke to get the wrong idea.  

“You tell yourself that.” Flynn chided, pulling a face at you, clearly not believing you at all.  

“We are.”

“Yeah, and anytime he sings anything even slightly romantic he looks right at you.”

“It’s true,” Julie piped up, “he’s been coming up with a lot more love songs recently. Whenever I ask him about it he just says he wants us to have a balanced song pool or something.”  

“We’re not a thing.” You insisted. “I’m going to dinner and then I’ll be at the show...simple as that. Just, don’t say anything.”  

Julie agreed, throwing out some lame excuse about you having to go over your grandparents’ house before the show as a reason that you weren’t going to the venue with them like you usually did. Getting booked somewhere as a headliner was still fairly new to them and you always liked to be there in the moments before the show started, an extra person to reassure them that they completely and totally deserved all of this.  

While you didn’t think your absence would be felt too exponentially, it definitely was. Luke had been unusually antsy since they’d gotten there. He was always eager to get onstage but this was different, he kept looking over the railing as if he was going to hurl and rush out of the venue. Reggie tried reassuring him that everything was fine but nothing seemed to calm his nerves.  

“Hey, ten minutes alright, start getting ready,” one of the crew said, scribbling something on his clipboard.

“Okay, thanks.” Julie nodded, looking back over the railing as he left, the calm she was trying to portray immediately washing away when she saw you walk into the venue. Any other time she would’ve been jumping for joy but you weren’t alone and she could only assume that the guy with you was the Mikey you had mentioned earlier in the day. “So we should-” as she turned to address them, hopefully distract Luke, Reggie caught sight of you in the crowd.

“Look!” He nudged Luke’s arm, pointing you out, “she made it.”

Julie grimaced as Luke looked over the balcony and down into the crowd. It took him a moment to find you but Julie and Alex could pinpoint the exact moment that he did. A flicker of happiness at the sight of you, quickly washed away and turned into, first confusion, and then something akin to anger. He frowned, eyebrows furrowing as he watched you get a spot on his side, talking the whole time to the guy with you.  

“Who the fuck is that?” He asked.  

You had told Julie that your plan was to go, get through dinner with Mikey, and then come straight to the venue for the show. A simple enough evening, and you’d expected it to go off without a hitch except Mikey got curious about who you were texting and guilted you into inviting him along.  

“So, this band?” Mikey asked, looking around the small venue, “how’d you become a groupie?”

“I’m not a groupie. Julie and I are friends.” You stressed, scrunching your nose up as the lights dimmed and the people around you screamed in excitement.  

The anticipation was palpable and, truthfully, you were right there with the other concert goers around you, excited by the prospect of seeing Julie and the Phantoms perform live. It wasn’t something that was new for you, a front row seat to all their rehearsals was part of your everyday life and yet, something about seeing them perform live like this, with a crowd that so responsive to them, only added to the adrenaline coursing through you.  

As the guys ran out on stage, Alex, then Reggie, then Luke, and finally Julie, the noise level around you seemed to pick up. But there was something off, something that didn’t quite sync with you that settled as the first chords sounded. You frowned, realizing, as Luke purposely missed you when he scanned the crowd, exactly what it was that you were feeling. It wasn’t accidental in the slightest, Julie met your gaze more than once and so did Reggie and Alex but Luke was ignoring you. He was very intentionally ignoring you standing there in the very front row, pressed against the barricade in front of him.

It was as if someone had knocked all the air out of your chest. Somehow that loud, crowded venue where you could feel the bass pounding in your stomach, felt empty. You felt small and invisible and even when Mikey shouted in your ear that they were actually an awesome band you lacked the excitement to tell him that they were the best band ever. You just nodded. And as much as you wanted to look away from Luke, a silent “two can play at this game”, you didn’t. Instead, you just kept watching him, waiting for him to look your way and somehow explain what was going on that had him acting like you didn’t exist.  

-

The encore ended, the boys each running off the stage before Julie, Luke standing at the side waiting for her as she waved one last time to the crowd before setting the mic back in its stand and running off. The mass of people who had been screaming lulled into a buzz, some of them leaving as others lingered, waiting for the band to come back out to sign autographs and take pictures.  

You walked Mikey to the merch table while other people hung around chatting with each other, the house lights up so that you could actually see as you walked. Flynn stood behind the table and she waved when she saw you.  

“I’ll catch you later, thanks for letting me tag along.” He said, hanging at the door for a minute.

“Yeah totally, thanks for coming. Happy birthday,” you hugged him and then circled back to Flynn, stepping behind the table and sitting down on the stool.  

“Girl, you do not seem happy.” Flynn commented as she grabbed a sweatshirt from one of the boxes and handed it across the table to a fan.  

“I’m just...” you shrugged, looking back down toward the stage, “confused?”  

“Did something happen with Mikey?” She asked.  

You handed a shirt from one of the bins to her as she rung up a sale, jumping in to ask a few people what they needed as she waited on a group of girls. When they had all finally dispersed, the line lulling for a moment, you turned back to Flynn, “no...I mean other than him inviting himself along. No, it was Luke...he was like, it sounds dumb to say it but, it was like he was ignoring me.”

“Maybe he didn’t see you?” She suggested, attempting to be reassuring.  

“He saw me. Then he just, acted like he didn’t the whole rest of the night.” You replied, “I don’t know...it felt shitty.”

“You know who you should tell that to?”

“Luke?” You asked, already knowing her answer. Flynn was the queen of confrontation.  

“Exactly.”

You frowned, the last thing you wanted to do was talk to Luke. If he was going to ignore you the way he had on stage, Flynn had been trying to make you feel better but you knew he was avoiding you for some reason. He always made it a point to find you in the crowd but tonight he had looked anywhere but you.  

A few straggling fans shouted excitedly and you looked passed the table to see that the guys and Julie had come out from backstage for meet and greets. As they spread out to talk to people, Reggie moved toward the merch stand, parking himself close enough to you that he could chat with you without drawing too much attention. You knew it was on purpose, that was usually Luke’s spot but tonight he stayed all the way down by the stage, almost reluctant to be out on the floor.  

“Hey, great job.” You mentioned, grabbing a water bottle from under the table and handing it to Reggie. He took it gratefully, taking a sip before setting it on the floor beside him and beginning to greet the group of fans that had hung back to say hello to him.  

When there was a spare minute between signing and taking pictures, he moved down the table, closer to you then before, leaning against a bare patch of wood where Flynn had already cleared away shirts. “Who was that guy you came with?” Reggie asked, looking back at you as you took one of the larger hoodies out of a box and pulled it on. Without the people, the venue had started to get cold.  

“My friend Mikey, it was his birthday and he’s been bugging me to hang out. He tagged along really and I didn’t wanna ditch him...” you replied, coming around the side of the table, “I didn’t really think it’d be an issue.”

“Oh, it's not with me. We need all the fans we can get right?” Reggie joked, “did he like our music?”

“Yeah, totally loved it.”  

The last of the concert goers finally made it to the door, waving to Reggie one last time as they walked passed the closed down merch stand. He waved back and you turned to watch them leave, back to the stage.  

“Hey, can we talk?” Luke’s voice came from behind you and you looked over your shoulder to him, standing there with his plaid jacket over a black band tee. His hair was pushed off his forehead from sweat and he was frowning already, not exactly the version of him you wanted to talk to. You couldn’t help that longing feeling for the Luke that would come off stage and wrap you in a sweaty hug guaranteed to piss of fans.  

“Uh yeah, of course...I need to talk to you too.” You replied, turning fully toward him as Reggie stood up, grabbing his water and heading back down toward the stage. Flynn came around the merch stand, following after him, leaving you and Luke alone.  

A beat passed between you and he ran his hand through his hair, trying and failing to fix the sweaty mess. Unable to stand the silence, you started talking, “you guys were awesome...as usual.”  

“Yeah, thanks.” He had asked to talk to you but he wasn’t really sure how to start the conversation he wanted to have and he couldn’t bring himself to really meet your eyes, his gaze flickering passed you every few seconds.  

“Would’ve been even better if you weren’t ignoring me all night,” you blurted.  

That seemed to be the push he needed to react, “yeah well, you brought some date with you? After the other night...” he trailed off for a moment, meeting your eyes finally, “I mean, that wasn’t nothing.”

-

Band practice had ended earlier than usual and, while you sat on the couch trying to win a particularly difficult level of candy crush on Luke’s phone, everybody else discussed a pizza run for dinner. You raised your hand to vote for extra cheese but didn’t look up when Julie left to go and Reggie and Alex walked out onto the driveway to play basketball. You didn’t look up until Luke dropped down on the couch next to you, putting his chin on your shoulder.

“How’s it going?” He asked, keeping his eyes on his phone screen as you turned your head, so close that your nose almost brushed his cheek.  

“Good?” You said, drawing the word out as you looked at him skeptically, “can I ask why you’re so close to me?”  

“So, you can bask in my awesomeness?” Luke teased, wrapping his arm around your waist.  

“I think the only thing I’m basking in is your post-rehearsal sweat.” You joked, shifting a little so that his chin fell off your shoulder and you were facing him. You set his phone down on the coffee table, giving your whole attention to Luke.  

He smiled at you, eyes searching yours. There was no denying that very specific look that Luke seemed to get, one you could never quite name but always recognized. He would smile, a soft sort of piercing look that you couldn’t look away from on his face. And you were always hypnotized by it, feeling like maybe you should distract yourself from it but never really wanting to.  

“What are we doing?” You chanced asking, meeting his gaze and holding it.

“What’da ya mean?” He asked, grin still on his face and you felt like he’d gotten closer but you didn’t move.

“You’re staring at me.”

“You’re staring at me.” He echoed.  

“Luke.” You wanted to roll your eyes but you also didn’t want to look away, even for a split second.  

He leaned closer, the joking air that had been dissipating completely gone now. You licked your lips, trying to keep yourself calm as Luke moved in. One second, he was looking at you and the next your eyes were closing, his lips pressed against yours and his grip on your waist tightening.  

The kiss didn’t last long. The doors to the garage creaked open and you both pulled away, looking anywhere but at each other as Julie walked in with pizza. Alex and Reggie came in behind her and Luke stood up, grabbing a stack of magazines off the coffee table and moving them out of the way. You picked up his phone, unlocking it and opening candy crush again to distract yourself.  

-

Neither of you had discussed the kiss, mostly because you were too afraid that if you brought it up he would tell you that it was just a mistake. Some spur of the moment thing that happened but that he didn’t really mean. You hadn’t even told Julie or Flynn about it.  

But now you were standing at the empty merch table with him and he was acting like you had purposely tried to hurt him. A ‘date’ he had called it and all at once you realized exactly what he thought had happened.  

“No, no,” you shook your head, “Mikey wasn’t a date.”  

“You didn’t say you were bringing Mikey with you to our show.” Luke replied, your best friend’s name rolling off his tongue like a curse.  

“He was bugging me about not hanging out recently and it’s his birthday so we were supposed to go out for dinner but I kept mentioning you…the band…and he wanted to come to the show.” You tried to explain.  

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” It was stupid to ask, technically you didn’t owe him any explanation at all. You could bring whoever you wanted but he couldn’t help feeling affronted by it.  

“I didn’t want you to think I was gonna ditch the show. And…I didn’t want you to think it was a date.” You replied. “The kiss wasn’t nothing and I should’ve talked to you about it sooner cause…I really like you and it felt really shitty to be ignored tonight.”  

Luke rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m sorry, I was just pissed when I saw you with some other guy.”

“Mikey’s just a friend.” You replied, “I like you Luke, I like when you pretend to play the guitar badly to make me laugh and I like when we hang out without everyone else and just do nothing or go to the beach and I like going out with you at midnight to get ice cream cause neither of us can sleep and I don’t want to date anyone else…I want you.”  

“I want you too.” Luke said, stepping closer to you. When he reached for your hands, you laced your fingers with his. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours again, the salty taste of sweat from playing a show still there on his mouth as you kissed him back.  

[spencersankleholster]

XOXO, Spencer

A/N: This is my first fic so I hope you like it! Basically, Y/N performs at an open mic and Spencer is there. They meet, smut ensues, yadayada.

Warnings: NSFW, smut, oral (f receiving),

Spencer didn’t usually like bars. They were too loud, too sticky, and because of his sobriety he couldn’t drink anyway, but tonight Morgan and Garcia had dragged him to an open mic at their favorite bar. Garcia had a friend performing, and Morgan was just there to pick up artsy college girls.

As Spencer walked into the bar, he automatically felt stressed. His germophobia and general social anxiety were quickly taking over. Despite every instinct in his body telling him to go home, to run, he stayed, if only for his friends' sake. They were having so much fun, and he’d hate to ruin a night out.

Spencer sat and drank Shirley Temples as acts continued to rotate through. Garcia’s friend was alright, if a bit dull, but he clapped loud anyway. Some acts were good, some were mildly painful, and most were rather unmemorable. Until you stepped on stage.

“Hey, guys! I’m Y/N, and tonight I’ll be performing a cover of Moon Song by Phoebe Bridgers! I’m, uh, I’m gonna get started now, but uh, I hope you enjoy!”

Spencer gave you a small smile as you fumbled through your introduction. You were never one for performing in public, but when you saw the poster for the open-mic in the hall of your dorm, you felt the urge to sign up. You thought, what’s the worst that could happen? Now, on stage, you hated the confident person that signed you up just two days ago. You could feel the audience watching you, and the feeling was terrifying. Finally, you closed your eyes and strummed the first chords.

“You asked to walk me home, but I had to carry you-“

Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn't entranced by you the moment you started singing. Even if he weren’t a profiler he’d be able to see the pure emotion and heart you put into music. It didn’t matter that the song wasn’t yours, he could tell you fully felt it. As you hit the last verse, and your face contorted with emotion, Spencer realized that he hadn’t breathed the entire time.

As you came back to earth after the performance, you looked into the faces of the crowd, waiting for a reaction. You met eyes with a young man - he was absolutely gorgeous, with big, kind-looking brown eyes, prominent cheekbones, and soft long brown hair. He gave you an earnest smile, and you sent one right back. As the clapping subsided and you walked off stage, you couldn’t help but look back at him over and over.

As you sat back at your table, he got up and head to the bar, and before you knew it you were following him.

“Hey, I’m Y/N,” you said quietly to him. He turned, looking surprised when he saw it was you.

“Oh, hi! Uh, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“Doctor?” You replied

“Yeah, I uh, I have a few PHDs.” He said awkwardly

“Well then, nice to meet you Dr. Spencer Reid.” You said, smiling at his soft and endearing nature.

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N. You were great up there, by the way. You looked like you were really getting into the music.”

“Really? I sometimes make this weird face when I sing, I hope that didn’t show up.” You chuckled

“Not at all. You were beautiful.” and you could tell, he truly meant it.

You spent the next hours talking about various subjects - food, literature, music, and most interestingly, his job as a profiler.

“So you’re like a mind-reader?” You asked excitedly

“Well, not really.” He laughed

“Profile me!” you said. He looked hesitant, but Spencer couldn’t resist the eagerness in your eyes. After making sure that you really wanted this, he began.

“Well, you’re obviously a college student, but I don’t think you major in music. You were nervous getting on stage and you likely don’t perform much, even for friends or family, but the callouses on your fingers tell me that you spend a lot of time with your guitar. You’re probably majoring in a humanity instead, and music is just for fun and self-expression. Small family, maybe a sibling or two, and I’d say that you’re the youngest. Oh, and from your sweatshirt I can say that you’re probably from New England.”

You looked down at your red sox sweatshirt and gave him a big grin. “Almost all correct, Dr. Reid, but I’m a middle child.”

“Dang it.” he huffed.

The rest of the night was spent laughing at each other's jokes and flirtatious banter. Eventually, Morgan and Garcia left for the night, giving Reid discreet thumbs up on their way out, but he barely noticed. You were both so involved in your conversation that you didn’t realize the bar had emptied out, and you were the last two left.

“Hey, guys, can you get out so I can go home?” The tired bartender said. Realizing the time, you both quickly went outside into the biting November night.

“God, it’s freezing! It wasn’t this cold when I went in!” You whined. You hadn’t worn a coat, it was 60 degrees when you left the house, but it being 1 am the temperatures had dropped significantly. Spencer shucked off his overcoat, handing it to you. Underneath, he wore a cozy blue sweater with a white t-shirt peeking out of the collar and a plaid scarf. Wrapping his coat around you, he felt nervous. A pretty girl, standing next to him in the middle of the night, wrapped in his coat. It sounds like a romance novel, but here he was living it.

“Won’t you be cold?” You said, looking concerned.

“Don't worry about me,” He said running a hand across your cheek, “I can handle it.”

Feeling his hand on your cheek, you started leaning toward him. He leaned in too, and soon your lips were locked in a warm embrace, chasing off the cold winter air. The two of you kissed passionately for what seemed like an eternity, which was entirely too short. When you broke apart, neither of you felt so cold anymore.

“I don’t live too far from here, so if you wanted a nightcap, maybe some coffee, we could head over there?” Spencer said. He hadn’t invited many girls back to his apartment before, and doing so made him nervous, but when you softly replied “Yes” that all went away.

Holding hands, the two of you traipsed through the night, wrapped in each other’s warmth. When you reached his apartment, you stopped to kiss him before opening the door. Quickly, the kiss deepened, and the two of you kept kissing even as Spencer was opening the door. Fumbling through his apartment, knocking into walls and large stacks of books, you made it to his bedroom. Spencer hoisted you up to sit on top of his dresser and began kissing your neck. You moaned as he slowly nipped and licked down your neck. You wrapped your legs around his waist and lightly grinded into his cock. Spencer moaned against you and quickly began grinding as well.

When Spencer moved away from you, you thought you had done something wrong, but a split second later he was pulling up the hem of your shirt and looking to you for permission. You peeled off your sweatshirt, leaving you in a thin tank top and bralette. Spencer leaned back in to kiss you and began massaging your boobs over the tank top.

“Why don’t we get this off too?” He breathed, referring to your tank top. You nodded and Spencer pulled the garment off of your body, leaving you in your fairly see-through bralette and jeans. To even the score a bit, Spencer then pulled off his own sweater, and seeing your opportunity, you helped him to shirk off the tight white t-shirt underneath as well. Moving to his bed, you sat straddling his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed. He ogled you for a second, and then in one swift motion pulled off the remaining fabric covering your chest. Not wasting a moment, Spencer leaned in and began sucking on your boobs, moaning lightly against them.

“Oh my god, Spencer!” You moaned as he lightly bit down on your nipples. While still attached to your breast, he started unbuttoning your pants. Flipping you over with your back lying on the bed, he pulled down your jeans. You stared in awe as he knelt at the end of the bed, kissing up your calves and thighs, slowly teasing you. It was agonizing waiting for him to reach your core, but when he did, the wait was made worth it. He began by slowing licking up your heat, and then began sucking your clit. While still licking you, he eased his long fingers inside of you, curling up into your g-spot. With his tongue circling your clit and his two middle fingers hitting your g-spot, you could feel your climax quickly approaching.

“Please, fuck, Spencer!” You pleaded, making him go faster. Almost immediately, that wave of pleasure hit you like a truck, and you came on his tongue.

Panting, you sat up a bit, looking at the gorgeous sight of Spencer lapping up the rest of your juices. As soon as he finished, you pulled him up by the back of his neck and kissed him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue.

Trying to pay him back, you leaned down and unzipped his pants, wanting to suck his cock, but he stopped you.

“No, baby, there's no time for that. I just want to be inside you.” There was no arguing with that. You pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing his fully hard cock, pink and dripping with pre-cum. As much as Spencer loved the sight of you staring at his member, he wanted to get down to business. He reached to grab a condom from his nightstand, but you stopped him.

“I have an IUD and I got tested last week. Clean. How about you?” you said

“I haven't been with anyone since I last got tested, and I was clean then. You wanna do this?”

“God, yes.” You replied.

Wasting no time, Spencer got on top of you and lined himself up with your entrance. Slowly, he pushed into you.

“Good girl, so tight for me.” He breathed. You moaned as you adjusted to his size, and after a moment, Spencer began to move. He went slowly at first, trying not to hurt you, but you were having none of that.

“Faster!” You demanded, and he listened. Picking up the pace, Spencer rocked into you, his hair cascading over his face and sweat dripping down his forehead. Instincts kicked in, and Spencer kept going faster and faster. He then pulled you against his chest, kissing you as he felt your walls contract around him. You felt his cock slip out of you, and his hands holding your face.

“Get on all fours, baby.” He commanded. You quickly obliged and turned over onto your hands and knees. Spencer moaned as he groped your ass and lined his cock up with your entrance. He pushed into you faster this time, eliciting a loud moan from both of you, and then began to thrust hard. You could nearly feel him in you stomach, and from the way his cock was twitching inside of you and your walls tightening around him, you knew you would both climax soon.

“I’m gonna cum.” You moaned. At this, Spencer sped up, now hitting your G spot perfectly. He grunted loudly with every thrust, and pulled your back against his chest to get an even deeper angle. Your climax came quickly after that, and you could feel yourself tightening even further. You screamed all the way through your high. A moment later, Spencer let out a loud moan and you felt yourself being filled with his cum. Spencer pulled himself out of you, and panting, you both crashed onto the bed. Spencer wrapped an arm around you and kissed your forehead, and then said,

“I loved hearing you sing earlier. And a minute ago.”

You laughed at the joke, still a little out of breath, and cuddled even closer to Spencer. Your head on his chest, you both fell asleep without a worry in the world.

The next morning, you woke up alone in his bed. Confused, you looked around, but then noticed a post-it note stuck to your hand.

“Y/N - Sorry for leaving so suddenly, but duty calls! I had an amazing time and I hope you did too. There’s a croissant on the table and there's still coffee in the pot, so help yourself, just lock the door behind you when you leave. Here’s my number, so call or text and maybe we can do this again. XOXO, Spencer.”

[ticklefits]

AO3 LINK! | tickletober 2021 day 1: CHASE.

voltron: legendary defender | klance | words : 2572

“Oh, don’t let me stop you. Keep singing.” With a tone much too amused and muscular figure leaned against the door frame, Keith’s eyes have locked on his boyfriend who’s settled at the countertop, chopping up onions for their lunch. His ears were previously graced with the melodic & upbeat notes of Lance’s singing before he halted as soon as he noticed Keith’s presence, cheeks dusting over in a soft shade of cherry at having been caught. 

"You snuck up on me! Y'know, all that Blade of Marmora training has made you seriously light on your feet, you're too quiet when you walk up on people--" Lance complains, obviously trying to shift the attention off of his virtuoso vocals, but Keith isn't falling for the trick. He merely grants the other a shrug, stepping further into the kitchen to peer down at the meal he was preparing before the interruption. It was a newer dish, something that Lance had talked about trying to cook before and though Keith rarely indulged in foreign grounds when it came to what he ate, Lance was a decent cook and he's willing to try anything for him. After a once-over of the food, he twists to match his gaze with Lance with Lance again, a small smirk now presented half-cocked upon his lips. 

"Being quiet has its advantages," is his rebuttal, arms crossing along the width of his chest as he gently knocks a shoulder against his love's. "You can keep complaining about it if you do it in song."

A silent curse leaks out with the sensation of heat that strengthens on the surface of Lance's cheeks, half-tempted to run into the next room and half-tempted to actually take Keith up on his offer. Complaining while singing truthfully sounds sort of hilarious and maybe Lance might've considered it had he not been ambushed by the other, but the abashment that's welled up in the center of his stomach has stolen the reigns from his usual confidence and is keeping his vocal chords locked and twisted. At this point, he's temporarily canceled prepping lunch and his new focus lies on a getaway. Sapphire sight slowly inches from where Keith stands to the archway that connects into the living room, calculating the distance to it from his own feet and weighing the risks. Keith, however, is a warrior, and a highly trained one at that, so as soon as he notices Lance's fixed stare towards the living room, his smirk widens and his own stance alters.

"C'mon loverboy, don't make me chase you down. You know I'm faster than you." There it is. A challenge. A challenge to his Leo boyfriend, who's neatly sculpted eyebrows perk and furrow and his lips twitch at the corners. 

"You're funny, Keith. The only one way you'd be faster than me, is if you tap into that cat-like Galran side of you and get on all fours. Stronger than me? Sure, maybe -- but not faster." Lance knows he just spit some fighting words, and judging by the slightly surprised, oh no he did not just say what I think he said look, Keith was about to square up. It was silent for a moment that dragged on like an hour, until Keith cements a stare at Lance and for a split second, Lance could swear he saw his pupils slit just like a feline. 

"You get five seconds."

"Wha--"

"Run."

Lance did not need to be told twice. As soon as he heard that single word practically growled from his boyfriend, he sprang into a nearly full sprint into the living room. Keith kept his words and after 5 seconds, rocketed off after Lance. By the time he had an open view of the room, Lance was nowhere to be seen. He paused, rummaging through his thoughts to figure out where Lance might have escaped to next. He figures their bedroom would be a good place to start, plenty of the places to try and hide in there; try, being the operative word there. He enters the shared sleeping space and, just to tease Lance thoroughly in case he was hiding in there, starts to tap his nails on the walls and other hard surfaces, knowing damn well the clicks and clacks will echo.

"Oh, Laaance.." the swordsman practically coos, feigning an innocent tonality all the while checking under the bed and in their closet for his prey. "You know I'm not gonna hurt you. I wouldn't ever hurt you. But you do need to be punished for what you said."

Lance can hear him. He can hear him and Keith knows that he can. Their apartment isn't very generous with running room and hiding spaces, so he's taken refuge in their master bathroom. He nearly scoffs at Keith's statements; he knows Keith wouldn't hurt him, not intentionally, but that's not what he's worried about. He knows what those clickity clacks mean. The surface of his skin is already tingling and he's biting back a grin, hands smoothing over the goosebumps popping up along his arms. He could speak lies and say he hates when Keith does this, but they both know the truth: Lance thrives on it. Every tap of his nails drives Lance insane and he can feel his body trying to gravitate towards the sound, but he refuses to give in and admit defeat. Keith challenged him, so it's on. 

He's dragging his nails now, goddammit, and he's getting closer. Those silent steps aren't so silent anymore and Keith's doing that on purpose. He wants Lance to hear him coming; it's all part of the chase. Thankfully though, their bathroom contains a door that opens up to the hallway, so if he times it right, he can get past without him hopefully noticing. Slowly, nearly holding his breath, Lance scoots to the second door and ever so gently turns the handle to minimize any sound and opens the door. A quick peek tells him that it's safe, but as soon as he fully exits the bathroom and begins his quiet tread through the hall, Keith appears behind him from their bathroom, running towards him. Lance yelps and his reaction is immediate, making a break for the living room once again. He jumps onto the couch and grabs a pillow, deciding to fend off his hunter with a weapon instead of continuing to run.

"En guard!" Comes his battle cry as Keith reaches him and narrowly misses the swing of a cushion at his head.

"That's a dirty play, McClain!" He manages to say before he gets uppercut with a cushion and it's as if the world goes into absolute silence. Lance hadn't really meant to smack him like that, but the damage has already transpired, so all he can do is gently place the couch cushions back to their proper home, all the while observing with fright behind his eyes as Keith's visage lowers back down to look at him. He says nothing, amethyst sight blank, but he does start to move towards Lance, which has the taller scooting backwards on the couch, palm outstretched as if that were to quell Keith's wrath any. 

"Keith -- Keith, babe, baby, look at me -- you know I didn't mean to do that, I swear--!" But Keith still doesn't utter a single syllable, even as he climbs atop and straddles Lance's hips. He then moves to grab some of the mini pillow cushions nearest Lance's head, one in each hand, and Lance's eyes widen, remembering a time when Pidge pulled this on him herself, except she used vinyl, elbow - length gloves. Keith's method is unorthodox, but Lance is sure it's gonna tire him out all the same. 

"Keith! No! No, no, no, no--!" But his pleas are no use. Raising the small pillows into the air, it isn't a second later that Keith starts to rapidly smack Lance's upper body with them. It's a furious barrage, one arm raining down a strike right after it's counterpart. If this was an action movie, and pillows were bullets shot out of a gun, this would be absolutely brutal. Fortunately for Lance, these soft, fluffy pillows don't hurt anywhere near a bullet wound. In fact, he's grinning all the while, limbs held askew above his head as a shield. 

"Now this is a dirty play, Kogane! Fight me like a real man!" And Lance is about to regret those words, because as soon as Keith hears him, he halts his assault and tosses the pillows to the side, eyes glinting dangerously. 

"Oh, I'm just getting started." Now unoccupied hands shift to settle on Lance's sides and instantaneously, Lance knew he was fucked. 

"Woahwoahwoah, no! No, now this is really foul--!"

"Sucks to suck."

"FIRST of all, I'm the one who taught you that saAAhahah--!" Keith's heard enough prattling out of Lance, it's time to hear some of that sweet, hilarious laughter now. Fingers scribble over the clothed flesh of his sides and waist and that already gets him into giggling hysterics. Keith will always be pleasantly surprised at just how ticklish Lance is. Nearly every inch of him is sensitive to something and it never fails to gift him with serotonin when he's got Lance beneath him, rosy cheeked, squirming around, and laughing his heart out - much like he is now. 

"Nohohohoho! Keh--Keheheheith! Stahahahahap!" His pleas are broken apart by giggles that are only raising in volume the more his sides are attacked and he's only growing further sensitive by the second. Lance knows his religiously vigorous skin care routine is partly to blame for how ticklish he is, but can you blame him for wanting soft, youthful skin? And it isn't like Keith's complaining about it either. 

"Nah, I don't think I can. My fingers are under some sort of spell." Such a blatant lie from the older pilot and the grin he dons is unmistakably teasing. 

"Yo--you're suhuhuch a lihahahahahar!" 

"What? I'm offended. I'm not lying at all. In fact, I'll tell you an easy way to break the spell and get me to the stop." 

"Gohohohohohod! Fiiiiihihihine, OKAY, okahahahy!" Lance is really beginning to struggle, squeals forcing themselves free as Keith migrates from waist, to stomach, and then to his ribs, poking & scritching between each one in an agonizing manner. "Aaahahahahaha! Tell---tell mehehehehe alreadyyyy!"

"You really wanna know?"

Lance's strength is sapping quicker than he'd like it to, but he still possesses enough of it to gently smack at Keith's arm, his giggles evolving into full blown laughter once those dastardly fingers begin reaching towards his armpits in retaliation. 

"All you gotta do is sing. Like, that one red-headed princess, to break a spell that was on her, or whatever." The fact that Keith really provided a Disney comparison to Lance's current predicament is hilarious all on its own, but Lance wasn't about to give into this torture, and deliver what Keith desired so easily. 

"Hohohohow is -- i-is ticklihihihing me suhuhpposed to make me wahahahant to SING?? B-Besides, a kihihihihiss broke Ahahariel's spell, not -- not singihihihihihing!" Poor Lance, with his cracking voice and breathy, hollow words that could scarcely be understood through all of his laughter. Keith understood the gist of it though and contemplated his conditions. He still wanted Lance to sing to him, but a kiss sounded pretty nice too. However, he isn’t quite finished with his boyfriend’s torture; there’s still one last area he very much wants to explore before he allows Lance free. Spidering digits cease their actions, smoothing up and then down the expanse of Lance’s toned torso, granting him a desperately needed, albeit quick rest. Lance doesn’t speak, merely taking this opportunity in stride to gulp down as much air as he can, because a minute part of him knows Keith isn’t done and that something wicked this way comes.

Something wicked indeed. After some very short-lived moments of repose, without skipping a beat, Keith breaks into full force tickling all over the surface of Lance’s soft thighs. The first and last thing to run through Lance’s mind is a sharp curse to himself for deciding that today was a good day to wear shorts. Keith has an all access pass to one of his death spots and he is allowing no mercy. They’re certainly going to get a noise complaint from their neighbors ( not that Keith cares ), because the inhumane screech that burst from the tunnel of Lance’s throat could probably be heard blocks away. 

“K---KEEEHEHEHEHEHITH!! NO! NOHOHO, NOT RIGHT THEHEHEHEHRE! PLEHEHEHEASE, AHAAAHAHAHAHNYTHING BUT THERRRRE--!” the couch has been shaved of all of its cushions by flailing, lengthy limbs and even Keith is having trouble keeping atop of Lance, what with all of his wriggling and buckling. 

“Geez, Lance, you almost sound like I’m killin’ you.” Keith’s grin is now from ear to ear, more than enjoying himself, the view, and his love’s ridiculously adorable laughter. 

“YOU AHAHAHAHARRRRE!! PLEEEEHEHEHEHASE!” But it’s only when Lance deflates into silent laughter, arms going limp against the couch underneath him, that Keith finally concludes his torture. Calloused hands remove themselves from the slender frame and he completely slides off of Lance, disappearing into the kitchen. Unbothered by Keith’s abrupt departure, Lance soaks up every single second of relaxation he can, until he glances up once he hears footsteps, and sees the water bottle Keith’s offering. Smiling a little weakly, Lance sits up, releasing a few lingering giggles as the movement of his still hyper - sensitive upper body brings forth some ghost touches. 

“Alright, time to break your spell.” Keith’s statement is oh so cheeky and as he leans forward, waiting for Lance to close the distance, he half expects Lance to do anything but kiss him. A pleasant surprise is given to him when he feels those familiar, supple lips intertwining with his own, and he smiles into it. The kiss lasts for a couple of seconds before Lance pulls away and eyes Keith, brow rising along his temple. 

“Guess whose job it is to prepare lunch now?”

A roll of lavender eyes, but he holds out his hand nonetheless. “Yeah, yeah. I tired you out, so I guess it’s mine. I don’t know how to make what you were making though.”

Lance takes the hand that’s offered and ascends from the couch, bending to start picking up the collapsed couch cushions. “Go on into the kitchen, I’ll be right behind you to boss you around.” Keith snorts a quickle chuckle, but does as instructed, making his way back into the kitchen. He nearly stops as something catches his ears, a heavy warmth blooming in his chest. Lance sings more than loud enough for Keith to hear him, even as he’s waiting in the kitchen. He continues singing, once all of the cushions are placed back in their proper place, and as he finally enters the kitchen. He saunters up to Keith, sight locked with sight, a hand on his chest, happiness brimming in the way he sings. 

“♪ Maybe this love is mad, you're filling every thought I have. Now I've stayed too long, and there's no turning back. Might as well dance.~ ♪” As if on cue, Keith takes his hand and spins him, earning an even more brilliant smile from Lance, and he lands softly against Keith, arms coiling around his neck to bring him back in for another kiss. Suddenly, lunch doesn’t matter so much anymore.