#i like buying all three albums at the same time

[satanssquidgy]

I think instead of geting a ton of small things im gonna get a few pcs and some albums, which albums should i get?

[worm-priest]

Watching those kpop YT channels focused on doing album hauls and collecting photocards where they already have entire rooms packed full of kpop merch feels like watching a train wreck and you just can’t look away

[dolloie]

“girlfriend effects” ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

habits that they develop from dating you.

pairing. bf!riize x fem!reader. warnings. insane usage amount of the word 'like' mentions of food, dizzy, cursing, kissing and marking (not heavy though!) marriage on anton one! rara's letter. giggled to much on the seunghan's one..

— shotaro & buying things that remind him of you.

he would buy everything that reminded him of you.

and prolly would update you even when you're asleep.

taroro <3: look what i got :D this kinda reminds me of you!!

he would buy literally ANYTHING even when it's so expensive that out of his budget.

especially when he's on vacation in his hometown.

having a bunch of plushies and keychains that look exactly like you.

keychain on his bag, sticker on his laptop, plushies all over his room.

then he'll buy a keychain that looks like him for you!!

you MUST hang it on your bag or wherever you want just, please, show it off.

he loves it sm.

this boy will giggle all day until you're tired.

— eunseok & bringing your essentials with him everytime.

like i said on my previous bf headcanons!

he would, and he has everything!!

your hair tie was missing? don't worry, he has one on his wrist.

your lips dry? he'll pass the chapstick, lip balm or any lip treatment without you asking.

omg what if your keys are gone somewhere??? bae he has your keys all the time in his bag.

you're just clumsy, but luckily your perfect boyfriend would come to the rescue everytime!

you felt dizzy all of a sudden? girl, he has a whole bottle of water and the medicine prepared.

the members would probably ask why he has a hair tie on his wrist.

all of them are just like they didn't believe that the song eunseok. carrying your items everywhere?? unbelievable.

and, no. he wouldn't take it off, even though the members were teasing him to death.

it's important for you!! why would he take it off?

— sungchan & kissing you everytime he got a chance.

this man has an obsession with your lips.

trust me when i say he has, he has.

i might throw the "chance" aside..

bcs BOY, HE WOULD KISS YOU EVEN IF YOU WERE TALKING WITH HIS MEMBERS.

bro is that down bad 😭🙏🏻

he doesn't give a fuck, even when his members are teasing him for being too clingy.

he just loves you too much, and maybe that counts for your lips too.

wouldn't be ashamed if your lipstick stuck on his lips.

it's the other way, he absolutely loves when your lipstick marks him and would be proud of himself.

he can't stand the fact that he hasn't kissed you yet.

like everytime, i mean everyday, at least three kisses before he can go on with his day perfectly.

even when he's far away from you, a virtual kiss would do.

bro has a whole album of kissing memes.

— wonbin & doing your hair.

he loves it when you talk about how your day went.

bcs those faces that you make when focusing are just so cute.

but then a hair piece falls in front.

he will tuck it behind with a school girl in love kind of smile 🥹

like he's felt like falling in love all over again.

it felt like a romantic movie that he never expected to have.

everything is like a slow motion to him.

he loves it when you decide to tie up your hair!!

then he loves to braid, wash, dry, and brush your hair.

especially when you had a busy week and had no time to wash or do your hair.

he'll let you rest and let him do your hair.

everything is on him, don't worry!!

— seunghan & back hugging you.

this mann T^T

okay now imagine you're in the same house as him.

when you wake up just to see this fine man hugging you from behind.

legs and hands all entangled with you.

buttt if you're not next to him when he wakes up.

be prepared to get the tightest hug from behind.

yeah, the kdrama scene.

which the female lead is cooking or preparing breakfast for the male lead.

then boom, back hugs.

place kisses all over you. neck, cheeks, forehead, and the temple of your head. hair. the back of your hands.

"i'm expecting you to be by my side when i wake up.."

so whinyy

how much you love him for this, but he gotta let go!!

or else no breakfast for the day.

— sohee & everyday text with you.

it's a must for him.

you're asleep? good.

bcs you'll wake up with a whole ass paragraph from him.

really really love sending you pictures of him doing almost everything.

eating, practicing, even before sleeping.

he'll update you everytime he gets the chance!!

absolutely adore when you decide to send him the pictures of you back to him.

asking how your day went.

when you say it was suck, he will go straight to your house without warning.

he's far away from you? not a problem.

face timing is the solution, so go!

would never end the call, even when you've already fallen asleep after telling him your whole day.

screenshots of your pictures and put them as his new wallpaper ^3^

— anton & planning almost everything.

you know, how was this man obsessed with planning everything??

like he has everything organized.

so you don't need to worry that your date is on the same day and at the same time as your work or school.

bcs that would never happen!!

try to think of anything that you would never think of happening.

marriage ‼️

like yeah, he would have a whole note about the wedding theme.

what types of or where would you both go for the honeymoon

man is so delusional.

he's so in love with you that he has already planned everything, even though there's still a long way to go :(

it's the summer time for him!!

your favorite snacks? check. your favorite place to go? check. your favorite activities? check.

you just need to pay him back with a lot of kisses and cuddles.

© CALLANTON. all right reserved. do not copy, use, steal my work and post. ౨ৎ

[dcxdpdabbles]

Alfred's Boy Part 5

@donesodone said: I just wanted to know. Is there a continuation of Alfred's Boy in the Works? If not, that's fine. I just love it and want to see it continue.

Bruce didn't realize how quiet Danny indeed was until Wes appeared. He suspected, of course, that no child was removed from their home by a super secret ex-spy if it wasn't a terrible, horrible reason, but still, he was shocked to see the difference.

Alfred's foster son had a weight around him, wearing his sadness like a depressing cloak. It was apparent that Danny was just tired. As if though he hadn't gotten a good night's rest in a long time, even when he was moving about and doing his chores like nothing was amiss.

Bruce will admit that he hadn't realized that Danny was so sad. He had no previous reference to compare him to, so he assumed that the boy was naturally reserved.

If he's honest, he also thought it was impressive how Danny could take anything in stride without so much as a blink.

Finding out his boss was Batman? Another Tuesday.

Tim's photo album of him? Danny appreciates the art behind photography.

Damian burst into his room, covered in bleeding wounds, he just had to have Danny bind? He took lessons from Alfred and appreciated the change to practice.

What he failed to realize was through all those events, Danny had had a lukewarm reaction, as if he had forgotten how to enjoy things.

Now, however, watching him with Wes, he realizes that Danny is naturally bubbly. He smiled wide, talked a lot with his hands, and while the same sass he had seen before was still there, there was more ease in him wielding it.

"Fun Fact: Tango was initially invented to be done between two men, " He hears Wes say, as Bruce walks by the viewing room the two boys were in.

Unable to help himself, Bruce peeks into the room, fighting the urge to lecture Danny. The reason for the lecture is that Danny is currently sitting in Wes's lap, his back to Wes' chest, and both are staring at the book "Useless Information" in Wes' hands.

Not dating his ass.

"So what you're saying is: Tango is gay," Danny affirms, cuddling into the blankets tucked around him, and leaning further into Wes. "The dance of our people."

Wes hums, "If only we could dance."

"Boys." He calls because he really wants to step between them, but Bruce is already doing that against his kids, and he is done being the civilian in Jason's novels. "Would either of you like to go to an opera tonight? I have some box seat tickets a close friend gave me, but I had other plans and didn't want them to go to waste."

Bruce didn't, but a little white lie wouldn't hurt anyone. He could easily buy them before the kids got to the opera house.

Wes's eyes practically sparkled. Bruce knew they would; he heard Wes play some songs from three famous operas the other day while Danny was showering. "Opera with box seats!? I love to go!"

Danny grimaces, clearly not that big of a fan. "Now look what you did, Master Bruce."

"Please, can we go, Danny?" Wes whines, "I'll let you haunt me if we go."

Danny cracks a smile, and Bruce is stunned by its softness. Had he not noticed how empty Danny's smiles have been until now? "Okay, Okay, we can go. But if I fall asleep you can't complain."

"How could anyone fall asleep at the Opra?"

"Easy. It's boring." Steph snips, leaning on the door frame. Bruce hadn't realized she was there. He frowned in her direction, not missing how Wes rolled his eyes.

"Hello, green-eyed monster. How are you this evening?" He said, making Steph eyes narrow. Danny was swinging his head between them, looking confused, but before he could ask, Wes continued, "Want to go with us? Danny needs more people to cuddle, and my visit has an expiration date."

Steph looks taken back, but her whole face breaks into the largest smile Bruce has ever seen on her face in a while when Danny nods, seemingly embarrassed. "It would be nice to have more cuddles. I, ugh, realized I was going too long without them."

Hmm, that's the fifth time the two have mentioned cuddling since yesterday. Bruce knows he ignored Wes's entrance when he got here yesterday, but maybe he should look into it.

If Alfred allowed, of course.

"I'll go get ready!" Steph shouts, racing down the hall. There is a brief pause before a loud "Hey, watch it!" and quick, distant "Sorry, Jason!"

His second oldest stridden into the room, grumbling at the giant front stain on his shirt. A half-empty cup in his hand lets Bruce know Steph bumped into him, making him spill his precious soda.

"Can't get any peace around here," Jason mumbles.

"I can clean that for you, Master Jason." Danny is quick to say, standing up from his seat. Wes lifts his arm to let Danny wiggle out of his grasp, but Jason only shakes his head.

"Nah, it's fine, kid." With one hand, Jason yanks the shirt over his head. Wes drops his book, and Danny's face goes very red. Bruce has a moment of utter horror, but Jason doesn't seem to notice, throwing the ruined shirt over his shoulder. "I was going to shower after some reading anyway. What are you crazy kids up to?"

"O-Oprea," Danny shutters, staring up at Jason with strange emotion in his eyes. Wes looks like a deer caught in headlights beside him.

Jason's face brightens. "No way! I love the opera."

"You do?" We gasped.

"Yeah, though, I'm more of a play guy myself. I love the theater. Once a drama kid always a drama kid." Jason winks and, oh no, Wes looks to be swooning. What's worse, Danny seems to be swooning too.

"Want to come with?" Wes blurts, and Jason considers the invitation carefully before shrugging.

"You know what? Yeah, I love to. Let me go take my shower then get ready. It's at what time?"

"Seven," Bruce answers, stepping in when both boys seem unable to get their tongues to work. Jason nods, and then a wicked smirk grows on his face.

Bruce is instantly weary.

"Let's make this a family event. You guys don't mind, right?" Jason turns back to the boys, shaking their heads like bobble figures.

"The more, the merrier, Master Jason."

"Perfect" Quick as a whip, Jason pulls out his phone and sends a quick message. He leaves the room, but not before calling over his shoulder "I'll meet you in the main doorway at six-thirty."

Bruce's phone buzzes. He pulls it out, reading the message: Hey losers, Danny wants to see the Oprea. The really romantic one. Do any of you want to join us?

He feels a headache coming on. Especially with Wes and Danny looking at each other with shocked open mouths, looking like they were wordlessly expressing how attractive they thought Jason was.

Tim comes sprinting down the hall. Bruce is unsure what he is doing, seeing as his hair is wrapped in a towel, but he is wearing half of a chicken costume as he runs by. "I want to go, I want to go, I want to go! Don't leave without me!"

Wes squints at the open door hallway before laughing that strange, impish laugh of his. "This place is a riot."

Danny pauses before that same soft smile blooms on his face, and Bruce's heart melts. "Yeah, I like Wayne Manor too."

Maybe Danny isn't as happy as before, but maybe one day he will be. Bruce would be content with that.

[inkskinned]

i'm used to it, and how bad it is, and how often it's so bad that it rings like a bell inside of me, drowning out everything around me. and the truth is that i get frustrated with myself about it - again? we're like this still? again? it's not that i feel weak, precisely. it's just this sense almost like - i've already been pushing against this thing for years now, shouldn't i have gained more ground?

i get frustrated because i'm sick of picking up the loose ends every six months. i get frustrated because it's always this same shit, same problem - i lose myself in a matter of months; spiral out of control, lose touch with friends and loved ones. i stop taking care of myself and therapy gets hard and i let everything around me wilt and shrivel and fall off; start somehow both sleeping too much and not-enough. i panic-attack and cry in my car in a target parking lot, pulling my hair out and hurting my ribs from sobbing so hard - and later, when i'm better, i'm embarrassed because how could i let it get that far?

it feels like - i already have done this so many times. isn't there a way out of it? isn't there a point where i've just... won? that it never happens again, that i just get to be done? maybe this is weakness, i guess - that i still (so often!) succumb.

i am used to it, so i forget exactly how hard it gets. do you even know how many times i've laid in bed, exhausted, blank and numb and listless and said - i can't anymore. i just can't. i'm not even really upset. it's okay. i've been here long enough. so much of my life was beautiful.... i'm just... done.

do you know how many times i woke up and i said - i can't and put my feet on the floor and said i can't, i don't want to and took a shower and walked the dog and bought myself fresh bread and put a nice playlist on and said i really can't, there's no end to this and i went to work and i called a friend and i made myself cookies even if food tasted like ashes and decided that i really should wait for the new album from that artist i love and i thought i can't, it's not worth it and then i washed my hands and cut my hair and drank more water and wrote a poem and signed up for an art class at the local community college and said i can't, i can't, i won't do this again, and i paid my rent and let the dishes rot in the sink but still made myself eat anything fresh even if it meant overdrawing my account on a stupid bag of plums just because they looked delicious and do you know how often i closed my eyes and thought this is it i really fucking can't, something has to give and i have nothing left that it can take and then i went to bed and i got up and i fucking survived anyway

yesterday the local ice cream place opened up for the first time this season and they were giving out tiny samples of their new dairy-free options and i tried a mango sorbet. three months ago i was positive that februrary was going to be my last month on the planet. i am teaching my dog a new trick and i just discovered a new band i love. i got a plant from the clearance aisle and repotted her and she's been perking up. i made salmon for alison and we ate it in her new house with her new beautiful baby girl. my manager told me he keeps recommending my work to others just because i always include a stupid number of puns. tomorrow i'm trying a new dance class. tomorrow i'm maybe going to buy more plums.

i forget, you know? it's not some bone-deep strength or some magical power. it's that some part of me knows - i need to stay. in all of this; out of all of this - i just want to choose love.

[munsonkitten]

It starts small.

Steve buys Eddie a handful of cassettes after the whole Upside Down business. Drops them unceremoniously in Eddie’s lap while Eddie’s laid up in the hospital. Eddie pulls them all out of the plastic bag and lays them out in his lap while Steve stands a few feet away, arms crossed protectively over his torn up middle.

“I got things on your vest,” Steve says as Eddie takes in the titles. “I figured everything in your room’s probably gone now, but I still have your vest, and I’ll — I’ll give it back. When you get out of here. It’s safe in my room. But, just — yeah, the tapes are things you have on it.”

Dio’s The Last in Line, Motorhead’s Ace of Spades, Metallica’s Ride the Lightning, Judas Priest’s Screaming for Vengeance, and WASP’s self-titled album.

“I almost bought you more, but I wasn’t sure what else, and I don’t know much about your music, so I just got those. I was going to bring you my Walkman, but I couldn’t find it,” Steve says. “I think one of the kids borrowed it and never gave it back, actually.”

Eddie still hasn’t said anything yet. He’s still taking in the gift in his lap, can’t even comprehend that Steve wanted to give him more.

“Uh,” Eddie says, trying to get his brain working again. “Yeah. Man. Fuck, dude. Thanks. Seriously. Don’t worry about the Walkman, really. This is nice, Harrington.”

“Yeah, no problem, Munson,” Steve says softly. He goes and sits in one of the chairs in Eddie’s hospital room, and stays there until the kids come running from Max’s overcrowded room to ask for a ride home.

Eddie lays there with his tapes spread out over his lap, and he finds himself smiling down at them. He doesn’t even have anything to listen to them on, but he thinks it might be the most thoughtful gift he’s ever gotten from anyone other than Wayne.

It’s nice, he thinks, that he might be becoming friends with Steve Harrington. It’s nice, he thinks, that even when they’re no longer fighting for their lives, Steve might want to stick around.

He didn’t expect that.

Eddie’s in the hospital for two weeks, and Steve stops by almost every day. He sits for a while, sometimes they talk, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes Eddie wakes up and sees Steve sleeping in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs. He doesn’t wake him, just smiles to himself because Steve’s tired, but he doesn’t want Eddie to be alone.

It’s been a while since Eddie’s had a friend the same age as him. Jeff and Grant are both two years younger than him, Gareth is four years, and Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair are all five or six years younger. He has friends, but Steve feels different, just a few months younger but already graduated. In a way, it makes Eddie feel younger, still being in high school and all.

He doesn’t really think that should matter, but it kind of does. All his younger friends look up to him, he’s always the one making plans and making sure everyone sticks to them, he’s the one in charge of it all — the older one. But when Steve’s around — Steve, with his real job, and high school diploma, and his nice car, and the brood of children he chases after, Steve, who’s an adult in all the ways Eddie himself feels like he’s not — Eddie feels like he can sit back and let someone else do all of that.

When Steve’s around, it feels like he has someone to care for him and look out for him the way he’s done for the others.

It starts to ease everything he’s carried for so long.

* * *

The next time Steve buys something for Eddie, it’s even smaller.

In fact, it’s so small that Eddie doesn’t even notice it at first because Steve was actually really sneaky about it. Eddie would almost find it cute, if he were allowed to think about Steve that way. He’s not, to be clear. It goes against his Munson Doctrine to have crushes on the jocks, rich kids, and straight boys, of which Steve is all three, but if he wasn’t, then yeah, Eddie would find it cute that Steve is sneaking him tiny gifts when he isn’t looking.

There’s a keychain on his van keys that he certainly didn’t get for himself. He notices it one day during a get together at Harrington’s house. Eddie just got out of the hospital a few days ago, and everyone insisted on throwing a party. Now kids are running around Steve’s backyard, yelling and hollering and trying not to fall in the freezing cold pool. It’s still too early in the spring to swim.

Even Max, barely out of the hospital herself, is being wheeled around in her wheelchair by nothing more than El’s mind powers.

It’s kind of fucking insane, to be honest.

But Eddie needs to go out to his car to get his pain meds because he’s really starting to feel the length of the day in his aching joints and healing wounds, so he grabs his keys off Steve’s counter where he left them, and that’s when he sees it.

A tiny metal bat dangling from his keys.

He knows it was Steve because Steve was the only one in the house when he got here and set his stuff down in the kitchen, and no one else has gone inside since Eddie found his way to the backyard, so of course it was Steve.

Eddie doesn’t mention it, just smiles to himself and runs his fingers over the pointed wings.

He sees Steve looking at him when he comes back into the kitchen. Eddie raises his hand and shakes his pill bottle at him, and without another word, Steve goes to the cupboard to get a glass that he fills with water.

Eddie sets his keys back down on the kitchen counter as Steve slides the glass of water over to him. Steve nods at the keys, and Eddie grins at him.

“Thank you,” Eddie says.

“I have a matching one,” Steve says, turning back toward the sink to look out the window above it. “Just, you know, because…”

He gestures at his torso, and then over at Eddie, and Eddie nods. He gets it.

It makes him feel a little bit closer to Steve. Even if Eddie isn’t allowed to crush on him, he’s happy to have someone who gets him. Who understands what he went through, and feels similar pain.

It’s like Steve’s saying You’re with me now, we’re connected, and you’re not getting rid of me.

Read on AO3

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter three:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ warnings: smut (semi-public, dirty talk, brief thigh riding, lingerie kink, degradation and praise at the same time? just filthy tbh)

➴ word count: 1.5k

➴ author’s note: …i have nothing to say for myself.

liked by spotify, billboard, morgan.grace and 1,028,923 others

sophiamontenegro rip to my feelings. 11/11.

View all 33,629 comments

user1 RIGHT ON MY BDAY TOO LETSS GOOO

billboard 🎤❤️‍🔥

morgan.grace i love u i love u i love u

jackhughes ❤️

user2 YESSSS YESSSS LORD YESSS

user6 user12 this is probably a good time to tell you that i wanna break up. bye

sophiamontenegro user6 user12 nah that’s wild…

user4 sing ho!

user86 WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT JACK BEING ALL OVER SOPHIA’S INSTAGRAM LIKE THAT MAN IS LIKING AND COMMENTING ON EVERY POST WHAT IS THIS BEHAVIOUR

user8 user86 girl CHILL that little guy is a whore he’ll do anything for a girl including being active on social media

— ♡

WITH all of the things you had to do before releasing your album, it had been almost two weeks since the last time you saw Jack.

Which, if you were to be one hundred percent honest, you were grateful for. Trying to figure out what you were feeling whenever you were around him was already hard enough to do on its own, now doing it with Jack around? Even worse.

You still texted everyday, although you didn’t know what that meant in your… fuck-buddies-situationship. With your previous arrangements, you only texted if one of you wanted to have sex. Besides that? Never.

But, in your ultimate defense, Jack was the one to start it. With simple texts like “hey, how are you?”, he built some type of text schedule between the two of you, and you wouldn’t be the one to break it.

To your extreme horror, you actually missed him: his masculine, clean scent, his warm hands around you, his jokes, his laugh, his kisses and his dick.

You often wondered if he was having sex with someone else during the time you were apart and that thought made you ache. You knew it wasn’t any of your business, and you knew he was technically allowed to do that— and so were you— but it still hurt nonetheless.

“Can we get some warm lighting on top of her, please?” The photographer’s voice brought you back to the present, where you were shooting some pictures for your collaboration with Skims. You never cared much about the Kardashians but damn if those lingerie didn’t look good on you.

Someone moved the lamp around so that the warm lighting was now hitting your face, and you started posing again. It was your last outfit, and you were tired. It was half past nine and after shooting for six hours straight, you just wanted to go home and sleep. But, you still had at least fifteen more minutes.

“That’s great, Soph, you look awesome.” The man complimented you, earning a smile. At least the people there were nice and you felt comfortable enough wearing lingerie around them. “One more for me, please.”

— ♡

liked by kyliejenner, skims, trevorzegras and 3,982,022 others

sophiamontenegro angel in blue, devil in yellow. skims

View all 17,628 comments

trevorzegras 🥲🥲

arianagrande jesus !!!!! ♡ 🪄

user1 how are u real girl wth

user7 GOR GE OUS

jackhughes i like blue

user2 jackhughes soldier get up…

morgan.grace Im pregnant

user3 i wanna be u when i grow up

user8 if i buy the set will u come with it

— ♡

ENTERING your changing room, you felt exhausted. Everyone left to have dinner and you were waiting for Grace to arrive, so she could pick you up. You were still wearing the two piece set, a blue babydoll and panties; your hair was still perfectly styled and your makeup flawless.

You heard a knock on the door, and you scrunch your nose, wondering why Grace would knock. She was against all types of knocking.

Opening the door, nothing could’ve prepared you for Jack standing there, looking gorgeous as always; gray sweatpants, a loose hoodie and blue eyes devouring you.

“Jack? What are you doing here?” You asked, confused.

“Grace told me you’d be here, shooting something,” he said, eyeing your entire body, taking his time. “Geez, I wish she would’ve told me you were shooting for Playboy.”

“It’s not for Playboy, idiot. It’s for Skims.” You rolled your eyes, opening your door and letting him in.

He leaned against the closed door, smirking. “I don’t know who Skims is, but I wanna tell them thank you.”

You giggled, cheeks red.

“Do a little twirl for me, baby,” he asked, voice soft yet demanding. You did, slowly twirling around, showing him your set. “So fucking pretty.”

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah, Sophia.” He stepped closer, putting his hand on your hips like always. You breathed in, not wanting to confess how much you had missed it. “And you’re all dolled up too, huh?” He briefly kissed you, just a tiny peck, really, which did wonders to you anyway. “I want to fuck you with those panties on. Make you ride me with that baby doll.”

“Jack,” you moaned, feeling your pussy starting to get wet against the fancy fabric of your panties. “We can’t do it here. What if there are people outside?”

He laughed, holding you closer, hands running up and down your thighs and ass, ignoring your wet spot on purpose. “What? Like you care about people knowing how much of a slut you are?” He scoffed. “Please, Soph. We’ve been here before,”

Your mind brought you back to that night at Nico’s place, or that one time you both fucked inside his car, or the day you sucked him off in the Devils’ locker room. Semi-public sex wasn’t exactly a problem to you, but putting on a fight always felt good.

“We have to be quick,” you whispered, giving in. As you always did.

“With you riding me while wearing this? I’m sure we’ll be.” He stated, and you laughed, as you both kissed again, bruising, hard and passionately.

His tongue caressed yours while his hands did the same with your body, fingers finding your clit over the panties and rubbing it once, twice, before moving to your hole, inserting his finger over the panties.

He lifted you with ease, leaving you with no choice but to wrap your legs around his hips, hoping that you wouldn’t leave a wet spot on his hoodie. He sat on the couch that occupied half of the room, with you on his lap, kissing you still. Your head was dizzy, mind going everywhere at once, and you couldn’t help but grind on his cock, indeed leaving a wet spot on his pants.

He pulled his pants down, and you eyed his perfect, hard cock: big, thick and the mushroom head red, spurting pre-cum. All for you.

“Inside me, please,” you mumbled, rubbing your clit on his thighs.

He laughed before grabbing a condom from his pocket. “That’s new. I didn’t know sluts knew how to say please. I guess you are desperate.”

And you were. It’s been two weeks since the last time he was inside you and you were climbing up the walls.

“Jack, please,” your voice sounded way too needy, even for you, but you didn’t care. If begging would get you his dick, then so be it.

“With you asking so prettily, who am I to say no?” He answered before pulling your panties to the side and lifting you up just enough to sit you on his— now— protected cock. You both moaned, you clenching your hole around him, clit throbbing underneath the lace. “Fuck, Soph. You’re milking my cock, baby.”

“God,” you moaned, slowly starting to ride his cock. You knew you both needed to be fast, so you were going to make it quick.

Sliding up and down on his dick, you rode him with ease, searching for your own release, while he pushed his hips forward, slamming into you with precision, hitting all of your right spots.

You two were too familiar with each other’s body, you knew each other so well and the realization made your head hurt and your clit throb.

Putting your hands on his shoulders to support your body, you were moving fast, fucking yourself open on his cock, while his right hand stroked your clit hard and fast, making you squirm and whine.

“Look at you, such a pretty thing, letting me wreck this tight pussy,” Jack whispered in your ear, still fucking you nine days into Sunday. “You’re mine, aren’t you, baby? All mine to fuck and care.”

“Mhpmm, yes, fuck, baby, yours,” you moaned a little too loud, forgetting about the fact that someone could be outside, hearing you and Jack fucking like two animals.

All that mattered now was coming on Jack’s cock and making him come too— which didn’t take long, since you both arrived at the same time a few minutes after that.

Coming down from the high, you both tried to make your breathing steady again, you resting your forehead on Jack’s shoulder, not wanting to leave, not now, not ever, his cock sitting still inside of you, making you feel full and warm and taken care of.

“All great in there, sweetheart?” You heard him whispering in your ear, while caressing your back with his left hand.

“Mhm.”

He chuckled. “Was I too rough?”

Even though it was clear you loved when he acted rough with you, he still asked every now and then. You thought it was the cutest thing ever.

Raising your body slightly, you stared at him, blue eyes reflecting yours, making you smile, tiredly.

“Nothing that I couldn’t handle.” You shrugged, genuinely happy. Exhausted? Yes. Happy? Also yes. “Jack?” You whispered, biting your bottom lip.

“Yeah, baby?” He whispered back, pressing his thumbs against your lip so you’d stop hurting it.

“I like you,”

You weren’t expecting him to say anything back, honestly. Coming to terms with the fact that you liked him was still something you were working on, but it would hurt less in the end if he pushed you away now, before getting your hopes too high.

Smiling right back at you, he kissed your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose and then your lips, gently.

“I like you too, baby.”

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: Switch!Haechan x Switch!Mark x gn!Reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Poly!ilichil. Blowjob. Sub-leaning Mark, Dom-leaning Haechan.

| wc: 2.8k

| aurora's note: not explicitly part of my poly!ilichil book (so no mention of reyna)

Movie night in the house was fairly chill. It wasn’t mandatory, and the film was always chosen at random by whoever pulled the highest number out of a baseball cap, so if someone didn’t care for the movie that the winner decided on, then they could go do whatever else they wanted. For the most part, though, the boys always stayed. Especially ever since their conflicting schedules prevented all eight of them from being in the same room at once. Taeyong was still in the military, Yuta was in Japan to promote his tour, and within the next few weeks Mark and Haechan would embark on the European leg of their tour while Jaehyun would enlist. A house filled with you and eight men was slowly losing its numbers. Soon it would just be you and three others… That was a shitty feeling… So the boys tried to make their time together count, even if it was only six out of eight of them in the house.

When you came home from work, the boys started pulling numbers out of a hat while you changed into pajamas. By the time you were changed and fit to relax for the night, Haechan was in the kitchen eating a bowl of ice cream, Mark disappeared, Jaehyun and Johnny were looking on an iPad at what new manga sets Johnny should buy, and Doyoung and Jungwoo were making themselves comfortable on the couch in their usual spots.

“Who won?” you asked, plopping down on the empty couch perpendicular to the wall with the big TV.

“You did,” Jungwoo replied. He tossed the TV remote at you, hardly giving you the chance to realize what he said and catch the remote before it could hit you in the nose.

“Where’s Mark?”

Johnny turned off his iPad. “Doing skin care upstairs. He said we can start watching without him… I think Chenle’s going to try to convince him to play some video games, too, so I wouldn’t count on him sticking around.” He reclined in the love seat next to Doyoung and Jungwoo’s couch while Jaehyun sprawled out in the empty space in the middle of the room, since they had to evacuate the coffee table in order to make room for everyone. “He’s exhausted and stressed from working on the last few songs for his album.”

“And Hyuck?”

“He’ll join us when he’s done eating.”

“He’s tired from rehearsals,” Jaehyun said quietly.

You started scrolling through Netflix for a movie you wanted to watch. “They’re both drained. I can’t believe the company’s already talking about another Dream tour next year.”

“Yeah, well, it was supposed to be us, but…” Doyoung stared at the back of Jaehyun’s bleached blonde head. “Anyhow.” He sighed.

Jungwoo shifted to get comfortable, cuddling up against Doyoung who laid back against the armrest of the couch so that Jungwoo could lay against his chest. “Can we watch an anime?”

“It’s not your night to pick,” Johnny warned.

“You were thinking the same thing!”

“It’s not my night to pick either.”

To appease the boys, however, you went to another streaming service to find The Boy and the Heron, a film which more than half of the room hadn’t seen yet, and it was anime to make them happy. The four content smiles in the room told you everything you needed to know. And as the movie, they all settled happily, their focus solely on the film, which left you smiling too as you got comfortable under a blanket.

Mark returned later like he promised. About fifteen minutes into the film, he made an appearance in his pajamas, his hair wet from showering, his face bare with all of his makeup and daytime skin care washed away in order to cover his face with his nighttime routine. You looked up at him as he entered the living room, hesitating for a moment while he considered his options for where to sit or lay down. There was some room next to Johnny on the love seat if he scooted over, Jungwoo and Doyoung took up the entire couch facing the TV head on, there was room next to you if you sat up, and if Jaehyun didn’t lay down in the very middle of the room there was space for Mark to lay down too. However, no one budged except for you. Mark sat on the floor with his back pressed against the couch you were on so that he was between your legs— Even though he could’ve sat on the couch with you if he wanted. It seemed he was more comfortable down there. Tiredly, Mark’s head fell against the inside of your left calf while both of you silently watched the movie, his hands gently massaging your ankles until you got the hint that he wanted to be played with too, so you started combing your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp, massaging sore spots to help with any stress or headaches he had. Mark immediately melted.

“When do you need to call Chenle?” you whispered down to him, scratching behind his ear like he were a dog or a cat.

He shook his head slightly. “I told him I’m busy with you guys.”

Though he couldn’t see you, you were smiling behind him,scratching your fingers through his hair from his forehead down to his neck. He shivered then melted further into you. He was cute, like a pet, when he was tired and wanted to just fall asleep and forget about all of his worries.

But then in came the menace known as Haechan who was done with his ice cream and had cleaned his dishes before entering to sit and watch the second half of the film with you guys. Rather than taking a moment to decide where he was going to plop down, Haechan made his way directly over to you and Mark before he dropped to the ground and put his head on Mark’s lap and his feet on Jaehyun’s thighs— Both boys looked at Haechan with a questioning look before surrendering since there was no use in fighting against Haechan.

“Oh, fuck, Mark—” Haechan squirmed on the ground then flipped over and pushed himself up to look at the man sitting between your legs.

Mark hid his face against your leg. “Sorry.”

“What is it?” Jungwoo pried with his interest piqued, just like the rest of the group.

“He’s got a hard-on just from having his hair played with!”

You hesitated, to which Mark whined and nuzzled his face into you some more— Both to hide his embarrassment but also because he so desperately wanted you to keep going. But once he knew that everyone was looking at him instead of the movie, Mark started brushing Haechan off so that he could stand, while he muttered something about taking care of it and coming back soon. Both you and Haechan worked together to sit Mark back down after you silently shared a thought that it could be handled there. Afterall, you were responsible for getting him worked up… and Haechan was the one impacted by the distraction the most because his pillow was a bit hard.

Mark looked around panicked. “I’m sorry—”

You comforted him by running your hands through his hair again, then you leaned in to kiss his cheek lovingly, which put his guard down enough for Haechan to lay on his stomach between Mark’s legs. Mark was a bit distracted by your touches and kisses to care about the way Haechan was pulling Mark’s pajamas down just enough so that his erection sprung out.

Some of the boys sighed and shifted so that their focus was turned more on the TV rather than what was transpiring on the couch to their left. You, however, was focused on keeping Mark distracted some more. Haechan was being wicked, having his way by slowly rolling the tip of his thumb over Mark’s tip while he stared at you with innocent doe-eyes that nearly made you pull both him and Mark upstairs so that you could fuck them until they were too tired to keep their eyes open any longer. And Haechan got cocky once he saw that look in your eyes. He grinned while he began jerking Mark off at a slow pace, just to test the waters, get him worked up some more before the next part went underway.

His gaze glued to yours, and Mark’s eyes rolling to the back of his head, Haechan wrapped his lips around Mark’s tip.

“Shit, Hyuck—” Mark squirmed between your legs. “Your mouth’s fucking freezing.” Must’ve been from the ice cream.

But that didn’t deter Haechan. With his eyes closed, he lowered his mouth down all the way until Mark’s cock hit the back of his throat, causing Mark to whimper and roll his hips until Haechan put a hand on Mark’s hip to force him to stay still. As Hyuck started slowly bobbing his head, Mark let go. His moans and pleas for more were disrupting the movie, yet the others tried their best to stay focused, so you decided to help them out by giving Mark two of your fingers for him to suck on. He did so eagerly. The second he latched onto your fingers, his moans were muffled around them instead of covering up the sound of the movie, and as his tongue swirled and stuck between your fingers, you saw him still trying to fight against Haechan.

“Go slower,” Jaehyun instructed quietly without even looking over at them. “You want it to feel good, don’t rush it.”

Haechan rolled his eyes, as if to say to you, the only person who could see it, that he knew what he was doing, he didn’t need directions. However, Johnny caught it.

“Don’t roll your eyes at us.”

Haechan groaned sexually while slowing his movements and grinding his hips against the carpet. His hands moved from holding Mark’s base and hip to Mark’s muscular thighs so that he had something to ground himself on while he tried to maintain a slow and tortuous pace that had Mark panting against your fingers while mumbling more pleas for Haechan to go fast again, but he didn’t listen. Unfortunate side effects of both of them being switches. On the off chance the two of them wanted to play together and Haechan was the one in the Dominant mood, there was nothing Mark could say or do to have the younger man listen listen to him. Go faster only ever encouraged Haechan to continue going slow. Touch my balls made Haechan avoid them. Let me cum urged Haechan to pull away completely.

And that was exactly what happened.

When Mark popped your fingers out of his mouth suddenly to moan out, “Please let me cum,” Haechan pulled his mouth away. Johnny smirked from his comfortable spot on the opposite side of the living room. Haechan, though seemingly inclined to torture Mark further, didn’t have much energy in him to edge Mark all night, so he went back to licking around Mark’s tip slowly, cleaning up the mess of pre-cum mixed with saliva.

“Please,” Mark croaked, tilting his head up to look at you. The boys weren’t going to save him because they were too invested in the film, but you could take pity on him— Especially in the state he was in. He was so tired… so overwhelmed with the Dream tour, his solo album, the upcoming 127 concert in January, and all the projects on his plate the following year. “Please…” That got you.

Though you hardly had any sway over Haechan’s Dominant side— At least not like Johnny, Yuta, and Jaehyun did— you reached over Mark’s shoulder to put your free hand on the back of Haechan’s head, pushing him down, watching as he took every inch of Mark into his mouth again before you told him quietly to ignore Jaehyun’s instructions. All he needed to do was make Mark feel good, then both of them could rest. That was what they wanted, right? To relax, enjoy everyone's company, and not worry about a thing? You would do that for him if he was a good boy and made Mark cum.

Haechan took the lead again, rapidly getting Mark off, even bringing one of his hands up to jerk off Mark’s base and gently massage his balls. Mark’s hands found your ankles which he grabbed onto for dear life. He was so happy. He was back to moaning with relief and excitement, his orgasm building quickly, his hips bucking around again since there was no more fight from Haechan to stop him.

“Please, please, please, can I cum?” he begged desperately, his nails digging into your skin.

Your touch drifted from Haecha’s head to Mark’s chin so that you could hold him steady while pressing him against the couch and tilting his head up again so that you could see his face when you whispered those magic words, “You can cum.”

Mark’s face twisted with pleasure as he started cumming down Haechan’s throat. Jungwoo’s attention was caught slightly, his own hips rolling around in the hopes for Doyoung to start giving him some kind of relief, but he was ignored for the sake of the climax of the movie that had the rest of the boys involved.

Haechan’s own moans vibrated against Mark. He whined and jolted, the last of his high passing and turning into a blissful touch of overstimulation that stole Mark’s breath. Haechan was grinning. Mouth full of cock, cum leaking out, his cheeks red and eyes glazed over with lust. Haechan looked beautiful. Perfect, even.

“Okay, okay, don’t be mean,” you said, releasing Mark’s chin and reaching to tap Haechan’s cheek.

On his way up, Haechan licked up all of the cum that escaped his mouth, cleaning up every bit of the mess he made since Mark had already showered, and both of you could see how spent he was, his entire body and mind already giving into his exhaustion.

“Why don’t you get cleaned up and head to bed early?”

Mark slumped his back against the couch and rested his cheek on your knee. “Give me a bit.”

Haechan put Mark’s pants on properly then rolled over to lay down his head on Mark’s lap as he had intentionally meant to. Now he was more comfortable.

By the end of the movie, Mark and Haechan were asleep at your feet, the two of them quietly snoring, Mark’s hands still glued to your ankles so that you couldn’t escape without waking him. Jaehyun was mindlessly massaging Haechan’s feet that were on his stomach when he made a comment about how maybe they should use Haechan to wear the two of them out more often— Specifically whenever Haechan would throw a hissy fit about being sent to bed early after working overtime at the office for a couple of days in a row. Johnny laughed and turned off the TV. Jungwoo tiredly sat up and began dragging a tired Doyoung upstairs with him, but it seemed that rather than cuddling and sleeping, Jungwoo had half a mind of getting rid of his erection too with Doyoung’s help upstairs.

“What do I do about this?” You gestured to how Mark had you trapped.

Johnny stood from the love seat. “Sure you can’t sleep like that?” he joked. When you rolled your eyes, he and Jaehyun came to your rescue. Slowly, Johnny woke up Mark while Jaehyun woke up Haechan. Both of them whined complaints when they opened their eyes. “Come on, you’ll be more comfortable upstairs.” Jaehyun lifted Hyuck to his feet first before corralling him upstairs, then Johnny leaned over to pull Mark up to his feet, messing with his hair with a giggle. “Go on.”

Tiredly, Mark trudged up the stairs to his room.

“Thanks,” you said when Johnny helped you to your feet.

“Thanks for compromising on a movie tonight.”

“Well, I didn’t pay attention for most of it anyhow.”

Johnny chuckled, and with his hand in yours, he began leading you upstairs. “At least you had fun, right?” When you nodded, he smiled. “You should sleep in their bed tonight, since they’re leaving for tour soon.”

Mark wobbled into Haechan’s bedroom. You heard some annoyed whispering back and forth, followed by the thump of a body collapsing on a mattress. Seemed they were arguing about whether or not Mark had permission to sleep in there. It also seemed it didn’t matter because he passed out.

“Night, Johnny.”

“Night, love.”

As he dove into his room, you walked into Haechan’s to find both him and Mark sprawled out completely, limbs tangled together, drool already pooling out of Mark’s mouth. They were such idiots. But they were your idiots. So you climbed into bed with them, trying your best to make room for yourself while they groaned about not wanting to be woken up again.

“Fuck off,” you groaned as Haechan accidentally elbowed your ribs.

“You first.”

“Both of you shut up,” Mark mumbled into his pillow.

“Aye, aye, captain,” Haechan teased, still half asleep.

You grinned to yourself. You were going to miss them a lot while they’d be gone on tour again…

[mvltisstuff]

hi hi

idk if you’re accepting requests but if you are pls could i request an evan buckley where he has a gf/wife and a baby but the 118 doesn’t know, and maybe one day reader/kid is injured and they either turn up at the fire house or the 118 is called to the scene and buck has to come clean about his secret wife/gf and kid?

thank you bestie, i love your writing <3

lover - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif from @eddiemunsens

a/n: what tswift album do u guys think the 118 are 🤭 also what happens to yn is inspired by an episode of s19 that i love sm it’s so funny :))

buck knew the second y/n got pregnant that he wasn’t leaving. two years of dating is a short time to have a child, but they loved each other more than anyone. they knew they could give a child a good life, so they went with it.

all three of them moved to la, so buck could work with the LAFD and y/n could get to a higher position at work. their life there was immaculate. their little family was thriving, so buck put a ring on her finger. he didn’t even hesitate to buy the biggest one he saw, because he loved y/n the second he met her, and he emotionally couldn’t wait anymore. the words husband and wife rang in his ears, making him drop a dumbfounded grin.

no one at work knew, he didn’t really know what they thought of him. his team knew he was too fine to not have anyone, so they figured he was just with some girls here and there. the last thing they expected was a child and a fiancé along with it. it never came up in conversation, but buck still didn’t bother. he didn’t want to face any judgement from people that he didn’t already get from his family. the constant scrutiny about his age and his girl was exhausting.

now, neither of them would’ve changed it for the world. buck can’t imagine himself happier or in a life without them. it hurts him to even consider what would happen if y/n and his little boy weren’t there. he always gazed at them playing, sometimes just wanting to observe their brilliance.

buck knew he would have to explain to his team that he’s married, and that doesn’t mean he’s ashamed. he wants the world to know, but he doesn’t want y/n to be hurt by opinions from other people. he didn’t realize how soon he would have to until the alarm rang and until dispatch came through with the address. it was their house. the house where buck and y/n raised their son and the one where either could be hurt. every single scenario waved over buck, making him panic more by the second.

“you good, kid?” bobby asks, taking note of his bouncing knee.

“uh.. yeah! yeah, i’m fine,” he lies. buck hasn’t been with them for more than a year, so they just pass it along, not knowing any better. buck climbs out of the truck, grabbing a few tools before sprinting toward the house. now, the teams more alarmed. what is it about this house is making him act like a maniac?

“y/n?” buck calls out, running around trying to find her.

“kitchen!” she yells out, sounded distressed which only makes buck move even quicker. when he walks in, he immediately notices her leaning over the sink, her hand in the disposal. bobby and the rest of his crew walk in behind him, the four of them standing in the kitchen staring at her. “well?”

“oh-“ bobby moves, starting to gather some more tools out of his bag.

“what the hell happened?”

“i dropped my ring down, and i was trying to make him lunch,” she nods to the baby, sitting on the floor happily, clearly having no idea what’s happening. “i don’t even know why i tried to grab it, like some idiot!”

“hey,” buck says, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. “you’ll be fine, y/s/n is fine, yeah?” she looks up at him and nods, brushing her hair with her free hand.

“should we know the kids name too?” chim asks, giving buck a completely bamboozled expression. y/n passes buck the same face as hen walks over to check her hand. buck can’t get around it this time, and he wants them to know for once.

“um, guys,” he starts. “this is my fiancé, y/n and my son.”

“your what?” hen shouts, peeking her head out from behind y/n’s shoulder. she gives hen an awkward smile and buck stands there stiffly, worried about their reaction. everyone looks around at each other in shock that buck has his own family, and they didn’t even know.

“why didn’t you tell us?” bobby wonders.

“because i didn’t know how you’d react! i’ve heard it all from my parents, i didn’t need any more.”

“buck, we would’ve welcomed you no matter what your home life is. we’d love to get to know you and your family despite how it might’ve happened,” hen tells him, kindly. buck is confronted with immediate love, something he’s not to familiar with other than when his shifts end and he’s in y/n’s arms again. he’s surprised to say the least. he expected at lease some judgement, but there was nothing of the sort in the room.

“i’m thrilled you’re all having a nice moment here,” y/n interrupts. “but can we maybe get my hand out of my sink?”

buck and bobby pull the cabinets open and start drilling at the pipes underneath. buck secures the ring in his fingers before beaming up at y/n, showing her that he found it. “i got it!” he replies excitedly. “thank god, i don’t know if i have insurance for this thing. cost me my left leg,” he whispers to bobby. once they fully disconnect the system, hen slowly drags her bloody hand out and wraps it up. she hisses at the contact of the gauze and antiseptics. chimney starts to clean up the rest of the supplies, as hen treats the wound.

“so,” chimney begins. “when’s the wedding?”

“time and place, chim,” hen tells him. “time and place. but, yeah, are we invited?”

“yes,” buck says, obviously. “you’re invited.” he moves over to scoop his baby off the ground, carrying him over to his friends. they all speak to him in their little baby voices, and y/n watches with a shining smile on her face. buck knows he did the right thing, but he wishes he didn’t wait as long. now, he is certain that he has two solid families.

[edelfie]

#𝓣𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘! who’s that girl?

Y/N L/N is a nobody. well, maybe that’s a stretch, but it’s nothing compared to the other words the media uses to describe you. washed up, irrelevant, talentless—any cruel word or insult has or will be thrown your way. but 10 years in the game has forced you to grow thick skin, even if the supposed quality of your music doesn’t suit it. so why is it that today, of all the days, you awake to the worst news imaginable—worse than all the name-calling and jeers?

or, you open twitter. it doesn’t go well.

BLIND ITEMS! —

## this millionaire’s daughter influencer is known for buying many of her followers across all platforms. however, brands and colleagues ignore it because of the fat check lining her pockets.

## this one-of-a-duo A-list model is having business disputes with his other half and sibling. apparently, he wants more creative control over their projects despite having been in the industry for less time. it’s so serious that legal litigation is in the works. [revealed: lev haiba, alisa haiba]

## the not-so-indie band’s newest album is rumored to be about a controversial figure in the industry. this figure has already produced an album about the lead singer years ago, however it failed to garner any publicity.

## off-the-charts wannabe pop star is postponing her next album because her team knows her career is over if she doesn’t chart well. after nearly a decade in the industry and without a single long-lasting, cultural hit, she’s better off waiting tables than writing music. [revealed: Y/N L/N]

gracetheestallion. the haiba twins fighting ?? i can’t believe, like actually

colormeshocked. if y/n doesn’t clutch up rq then i’m gonna be so sad for her — underdawg. honestly, it’s just not fair how she’s treated by the industry — garagoesgaga. it’s “unfair”? she literally only makes trash songs and hooks up with men in relationships, girl bye — underdawg. your misogyny is showing, ugly <3 — garagoesgaga. wowwwww insults, so mature. average iq of a y/n fan

read more…

NOTES! —

Two posts in one day? It's more likely than you think! Anyways, today's fundraiser is for the family and sons of Reyna and Javier. Reyna and Javier lost their lives in a fatal crash, leaving their three sons without parents. Of their sons, one of them was dependent on their parents as he has been wheelchair bound all his life. In this brief period of time, he has lost both his parents and his primary caregivers. The entire family is feeling the financial strain of the sudden loss, so every help counts. Please consider donating here on GoFundMe or copy the link and share it online!

If you're new here, or even if you're not since I'm just starting to post again, I strive to bring attention to different fundraisers in all my posts. I primarily focus on sharing the stories of individuals in dire need, such as refugees in Gaza or those experiencing sudden homelessness, however there is no comparison between struggles, grief, and loss here! So I also take the time to share the stories of families such as Reyna and Javier's, and would deeply appreciate it if you could show them some much needed love as well.

I won't say too much, but as someone who has had the cards stacked against them (being a poc, nonbinary, queer, a religious minority, etc.) and has experienced my own share of loss, I can say that while the pain doesn't feel the same, the knife digs itself into you either way. My family was privileged enough to afford a funeral for my grandfather, who recently passed, but with many other family members getting older in age and being taken by the devil that is cancer, it does make me nervous as to how we will make it through. Regardless, I just hope that my plea and the stories I share will implore you to help others—not out of moral or societal obligation or to save face, but out of humanity and compassion <3

SEVEN EVIL EXES + MASTERLIST + NEXT

© all rights reserved—edelfie (2024) // do not plagiarize, modify, copy, use, translate, or repost my work on other sites without permission

[bbrissonn]

𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 - 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

in which you lay alone in your bed at night wondering where your relationship with the young star went wrong

disclaimer: english is not my first language and this is not proofread so please excuse any errors and if any words are missing add them in your head :) also this is a work of fiction, this doesn’t reflect how these boys act in real life, and it isn’t how i imagine them acting 

HUGH DISCLAIMER: this fic doesnt have a clear ending. i literally have no motivation to continue this, but i cannot find it in myself to start my next work for this album until this one is out. so yeah, sorry about that :)

warnings: angst, swearing , not proofread  

pairing: jack hughes x reader

wc: 2.6k (including lyrics)

guts masterlist

Cat got my tongue

And I don’t think I get along with anyone

Blood runnin’ cold

I’m on the outside of the greatest inside joke

And I hate all my clothes

Feels like my skin doesn’t fit right over my bones

So I guess I should go

The party’s done, and I’m no fun, I know, I know

I know, I know

Ever since you had moved to New York in early 2022, it felt like it had been living a lie. Like this life you were living wasn’t yours, like you had just stolen it from someone. Growing up, you had always been homeschooled, meaning your social life was slime to none. So, it was safe to say that when you chose to move to New York for a job your mom’s friend had offered you, you were scared. 

You only had two real friends, who you barely ever saw because of their busy scheduled with school before, and even more now since you three were all over the country doing your own things. Luckily for you, there was a girl only 2-3 years older than you at your job, meaning you had someone to talk to if you felt the need. After a month of two, the two of you became friends, growing ever closer when you realized you lived in apartment blocks next to each other. 

Which is how you found yourself at a bar on a saturday night in October of that year. Mailey had convinced you to come with her, claiming the two of you needed to decompress from your busy week at work. You rolled your eyes at first, but agreed none the less. Ever since this summer, you found yourself starting to go out more, joining Mailey and her friends every once in a while. Only this time was so much different than the others. 

There was a big group of maybe 20ish guys, age ranging from young adults to full grown men, taking up most of the place. The two of you were confused, seeing as this bar barely ever had people coming in, and it was mainly the same people coming here every week. So, a group of random guys neither of them had seen around before certainly peeked your interest. 

“What do you think they’re doing here?” You asked as the two of you sat down at your usual spot. The group occupying the opposite side of the room. 

“Don’t know. But they’re not buying that cheap booze.” Mailey mumbled, her eyes focused on the insane amount of liquor at the couple of tables they were occupying. The two of you eventually started forgetting about them, talking about random things that happened throughout the week. 

“Not to freak you out, but there’s a guy that keeps looking at you. A cute guy.” The girl across from you said after about an hour of the two of you being there. You furred your brows slightly at her words, before turning your head in their direction. That’s when you met his eyes for the first time. He had a slight grin on his face as he stared into your eyes, nodding along to whatever the guy next to him was saying. You sent him a small smile, waving slightly, which he answered with a nod. 

“More like hot guy.” You mumbled, looking back over at your best friend. You had had a couple of flings here and there, but nothing ever serious, and you were never used to getting boys’ attention on a night out. 

“He’s going to the bar. Go talk to him.” Mailey announced, making you turn your head to look at him. At the same time, he looked over at your table, sending you a small wink when your eyes met. 

“Rich coming from someone who always says girls don’t chase, they attract.” You teased, making her roll her eyes. You eventually decided to go up to him later that night, talking for a bit before exchanging numbers. Jack, you learned his name was, didn’t seem to want to get into talking about his group of friend too much, so you kept all your questions to yourself. 

Over the next couple of weeks, the two of you got to know each other. Your friendship slowly formed and the two of you grew closer each other. But, clearly Jack was still holding back on some stuff. He still refused to open up about his friends and what he does as a living exactly. You told yourself that he’d tell you when he was ready, but you were getting a little impatient, which is why you pretty much forced the answer out of him when you went over to his apartment one day. 

“When are you gonna tell me?” You asked, pausing the show the two of you were watching. Your words made him look over at you, a confused expression on his face as his eyes met yours. 

“What do you mean?” 

“When are you gonna tell me truth, Jack. If that’s even your name.” You sassed, making the boy next to you let out a deep sigh as he threw his head back. 

“D’you wanna see my birth certificate?” He answered coldly, making you scoff. “What I do doesn’t matter, Y/N, so just drop it.” 

“If it doesn’t matter than why won’t you tell me, Jack? You know pretty much everything about me and my life, and barely know anything from yours. God, you won’t even tell me the names of your brothers!” 

“Why do you care so much?” 

“Because I like you, Jack! And… and I though you liked me back, but clearly I was wrong.” You admitted, standing up from your spot on the couch as you started packing up your things. “Just forget it.” You mumbled as you started making your way to the door. You were stopped right as you were about to grab onto the doornob. 

“Y/N, wait!” He said, grabbing your wrist and turning you around before you could leave. “I like you too, Y/N, and I’m sorry I haven’t been honest with you, but I didn’t want what I do in life to influence how you see me. I’ve had way too many people use me and I didn’t want that to happen again because I really like you.” 

“Jack, I made it clear hundreds of that time that I what you do in life wouldn’t change the way I see you, but you kept hiding from me. It makes me feel like you don’t trust me.” You explained with a scoff. The boy in front of you sighed before cupping your face in his head, his forehead leaning against yours. 

“I know, I know, I should’ve told you a long time ago. But what we have, it’s really special to me, and it’s so good. I didn’t want to ruin it.” 

“You’d have to be a serial killer for me to change my mind about how I feel, Jack.” 

“Stay. Please. I’ll tell you everything, I promise, just don’t leave me, please.” He begged, his thumbs rubbing small circles under your eyes. You swallowed harshly before slightly nodding your head yes. Jack then brough the two of you back to his couch, and he stuck to his promise. He started going on and on about his life, starting with the fact that he played hockey for the Devils. Then he moved on to telling you pretty much every single memory he had about the sport, a wide grin plastered on his face. 

In exchange, you opened up to him about some of the insecurities you had because you were homeschooled, including having to attened big parties and being surrounded by large crowds. Jack had promised that was something he would never put your through, but you quickly learned that his promise meant nothing to him. 

I broke a glass, I tripped and fell

I told secrets I shouldn’t tell

I stumbled over all my words

I made it weird, I made it worse

Each time I step outside, it’s social suicide

It’s social suicide, wanna curl up and die

It’s social suicide

It had now been three months since Jack asked you out. You had met his brother Luke when the boy came to visit, talked to his parents through face time a while ago, but you had yet to met his friends. You tried hard not to let it bother you, but it did. He didn’t want you attending his games either, claiming he didn’t want people to hate on you because you were his girlfriend. You couldn’t help but overthink the fact that maybe it was just because you were his girlfriend.

You had seen pictures of the other players wives and girlfriends, and you looked nothing like them. They all seemed so outgoing and the life of the party. Not to mention all of the models Jack followed, all of them being the exact opposite of you. You had questioned him about it one night, he just scoffed and said you were being petty and pathetic asking him a question like that. 

“J?” You called out. His arms were wrapped around your waist, your back pressed against his chest. 

“Mm?”

“When am I gonna meet your friends?” You asked quietly, making the boy sigh harshly against the back of your neck. 

“Got to sleep, Y/N.” He mumbled. 

“Could you at least answer me?” 

“I don’t know, okay? Your weird fear of crowds or whatever makes it impossible for you to meet them all at the same time, and I’m not gonna go through the burden of setting up little dates with my teammates just so you can meet them. Can I sleep now, mother?” He answered harshly as his arms left your frame and he turned around, his back to yours. You felt tears prikle in your eyes at his words. 

“I can handle it.” Your voice was low, not trusting your voice not to crack if you talked any louder. Jack let yet another sigh at your words. 

“We’re getting together after the game tomorrow, come if you want.” 

“To your game?” You asked hopeful. You were growing tired of just watching him play through your TV screen, when he was close to your home. 

“No. After.” And just like that, all your hope was crushed. 

“What should I wear?” 

“I don’t know, and I don’t care.” He grumbled, getting out of bed making your head snap towards him as he approached the door. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Guest room. I need peace and you keep talking.” Was the last thing he said before leaving the room. When you woke up the next morning, he was gone, no text no notes, nothing. He didn’t come back for his pregame nap either, which scared you a little. But all your nerves went away when his face appeared on your Instagram feed, a bright smile on his face as the picture the Devils posted illuminated your screen. 

All of your texts to Jack had gone unanswered, as well as your calls. Thankfully, you knew where the team would be heading after the game, it was a local bar near the rink they went to almost every time after a game. You had gotten there a lot later than everyone, spending thirty minutes in your car deciding whether or not Jack would still want you there. You figured there was only one way to find out so in you went. 

The place was crowded, the music loud as the bartenders prepared multiple drinks. Realistically, there wasn’t that many people here, just the team and a couple other regulars, it was just a really small room. It took you a couple of minutes to spot Jack, who was sitting at a table with a couple of his friends and lots of girls. You tried to look as confident as possible as you made your way over to him. Some of his friends and their partners started at you, wondering what someone like you was doing here. 

“Jack?” You called out as you stood behind him. His arm was resting on the chair of a pretty blond girl next to him. You couldn’t quite describe the look in his eyes when his head turned to face you, but the words he was about to say completely crushed you. 

“Do I know you?” He questioned, and you could feel your heart shatter inside of you. You tried your best to keep a brave face on, but you were dying on the inside. 

“J, come one, this isn’t funny. I’ve been texting and calling all day, you were gone when I woke up this morning.” You mumbled, taking a step closer to him. The girl on his right could read you perfectly, and she realized that you two were a couple. When it clicked in her mind, she sent the boy a judging look before standing from her seat and walking back to her friends. 

Jack got up right after her, gripping your wrist and dragging you outside the bar. “What’re you doing here?” He asked harshly once the two of you stood outside alone. 

“No! What are you doing, Jack?”

“I’m enjoying a night with my buddys!” 

“Yeah, the friends you said I could meet. Tonight!”

“When did I say that?” His words were harsh and rude, making your heart shatter even more. You truly did not understand why he always acted this way towards you lately, but you were growing tired of it. 

“Last night! You said I could come if I wanted to, and I want to be here, so here I am. And here you are, with your arm around another girl!” You said, your tone matching his. You were tired of letting him walk over you all the time. 

“I said that so you would shut up and leave me alone. God, you’re always just complaining about everything and anything. It’s like nothing’s ever enough for you, you always need more–” 

“Oh, nothing’s enough for me? What about you, huh? Am I not enough for you?” 

“There you go, making it about you like always.” 

“Because this is about me, Jack! I am your girlfriend of three months, and I don’t know any of your friends! It’s like you’re ashamed to be with me. Do your friends even know about me?” You asked. There were tears in the back of your eyes threatening to spill, but you blinked them away. You had cried enough over him for the last couple of weeks. The boy in front of you stayed silent at your question, making you scoff. 

“Of course they don’t know, just like your brother’s weren’t suppose to know, or your parents. You don’t want anyone to know that your girlfriend is me.” You spoke with your voice low. This exact though had been in the back of your mind for a long time, but saying it out loud made it feel so much more real. 

“Things were better before you knew–” 

“They were better for you! You lied to me for weeks, and you’re still lying. All you do is lie, Jack. I can’t believe I waisted so much time and energy on you. You never wanted this relationship, did you? You just wanted someone to fuck whenever you needed, someone to be there for you. You didn’t care who it was, you neved cared about me. You’re pathetic, seriously.” You mumbled before pushing past the hockey player and walking to your car. 

You were done with Jack Hughes.

[tarnished-butsogrand]

To Liam,

It's so strange that I just couldn't bring myself to create anything to honour the role you've played in my life. It's like I cannot allow myself to say goodbye to you, trying to push back the inevitability of it. This permanent goodbye that I don't want to speak into existence.

"Let's leave it unsaid, just one more second

If you don't say it, then it ain't true yet"

When I first 'met' you, I was newly thirteen and I saw your music video 'One Thing' on TV. I had excitedly texted my best friend at the time, gushing about five cute guys on TV that were singing, "Get out, get out, get out of my bed" which amused my friend to no extent. It was the start of a character defining moment in my life, and I didn't even know it then.

It was hard to keep up with you guys, our access to the internet was limited. Watching YouTube videos back then was a task. I would go to all lengths to do so anyway, because it felt like I had five friends who I could joke around with. That's the strangest thing. I so desperately wanted to be friends with you guys. Not date. Just friendship. Looking back at that time, I almost feel sorry for how lonely I was to depend on five guys who didn't know of my existence for friendship, but then I don't. I don't know what kind of person I would have become if I had been oblivious of your existence. Now, I have had so many friends that I have met/ talked to through you. I am not in touch with all of them, but I felt like a part of a community.

You'll never feel like you're alone

I'll make this feel like home.

You taught me to dream. For the longest time, I was adamant I would form a band myself, and be famous and meet you guys. I was so sure of it! I could never afford to buy albums, or the movies, the books even though I desperately wished to. Then, for my eighteenth birthday, I finally got my hands on your book and the This Is Us movie

It was my dream, to meet you guys one day, all of you, and have you sign this book. I would tell you how much you inspired me, helped this little girl in a little town dream of going places. Gave her hope she could make it out of there one day.

I am so grateful for that.

It's hard to think you were together as a band for only five years because it sure felt like ages back then. There was always so much... Drama! I still remember the day Zayn left the band. The best friend who had first heard my atrocious interpretation of your lyrics, she was the one who broke the news to me. My chapattis and okra curry seemed extra salty that day. My family was surprised. What is she crying for? I would tell them and they would try to keep from laughing. It felt like the world had ended, but everything carried on as usual.

Life went on, I begrudgingly decided against pursuing a career in music. It's so funny, isn't it? You guys were living the dream and consequently taught me how to dream. And now, you've left us because of it and I'm still here because I didn't pursue it (not saying I would have become as famous as you, or famous at all). I got into medical school. By that time, you were already three years deep into your 'hiatus'. I would hear about you, now and then. Maybe listen to a single or two. Loved Strip That Down. Loved your interviews. Loved For You. Was waiting for an album.

I kind of lost touch with the 1D fandom and you. In the blink of an eye, 2020 was here. I got back to the fandom right in time for the 1D 10 years anniversary. I was sure it wouldn't have any effect on me. I was grown up now. Then I bawled my eyes out to Fireproof and I realised I was still a sucker, and I would always be.

Nobody knows you, baby, the way I do

It's been so long, it's been so long

We must be fireproof

Then I realised. It wasn't the same anymore. When I left, people were excited about everyone's solo careers. Five times the fun, right? Everything had... Shifted. There were camps and groups and, it just wasn't actually the same. I was horrified. Blogs dedicated to hate certain members, the word 'flopped' being used incessantly when it came to them. And bearing the brunt of the most of it was, you.

I don't want to go back and rehash it all, it's too painful, but you know what? I would have that time back in an instant if it meant you were still out there. Alive. When the possibility of this happening was so damn preposterous, not even the craziest fanfiction could have a plot line like this.

I don't want to say I felt sorry for you, because that makes you seem small. You had talked about your struggles, but you had also gotten better. I heard Heart Meet Break and I heard Weekend. They sound so ominous right now.

Heart meet break, lips meet drink

Rock meets bottom, to the bottom I sink.

Fuck.

I come alive on the weekend

I might die on the weekend

Another line for my demons.

All the while, facing vitriol that was frankly alarming. There was nothing you could say or do that wasn't criticised or scrutinized. I felt helpless but I was determined, once again that the tide would turn. That people would see you for the kind soul that you really are.

Let me tell you, LP1 was damn good! I hope you're proud of that album, wherever you are, because you smashed it! And your First Time EP? Still mad that Slow wasn't on your main album, like who made that decision? I am sorry people didn't pay more attention to your music, because it is amazing! Your voice, of course. That note in Bedroom Floor-you aren't real, you know?

And your videos during the lockdown? And your LP shows? You kept us entertained and happy. We loved watching you do the thing you love the most.

Oh, Liam. Then I gradually drifted apart again. I wasn't there when you came out saying you had been sober. I wasn't aware it had gotten worse. I don't know why, but this October, I listened to your music for the first time in a long while. It's so strange. Just a few days later-

I still can't believe it, Liam. I still can't believe you have left us. I can't believe that this is the end, this is how you had to go. With the world still against you. You didn't get your chance at redemption, you didn't get your chance to prove to everyone how amazing you were! You had so much love left to give. Everyone talked about how you checked up on them frequently. I am sorry there was no one to do that for you. I am sorry for the way you were treated. I am sorry you didn't get the help you needed, I am sorry that we can't enjoy more of your songs, your voice, your paintings and most of all, that laugh where your eyes all crinkle up, and your body physically rocks with it, and for a moment you become the embodiment of sunshine.

You were just a boy, who had one working kidney and the other that miraculously started working. You were just a boy that had a fear of spoons and loved dinosaurs. You were just a boy who apparently couldn't read but wrote so many songs for One Direction that we hold close to our heart. You were just a boy who warned people against snake habitats, and dropped tubs of pasta on your floor. You were just a boy who is loved by so many, whose loss will weigh heavy on our hearts for the rest of our lives.

I'll never forget you. And I promise, I will make all my dreams come true. Maybe not the singing part, but the rest. Hope you're happy, Leeyum. I hope they're treating you better than we did.

How can I forget someone

Who gave me so much to remember?

With love, always

Rini

[tavolgisvist]

At Laudate in Newdigate I decided that Saturday to take a very modest 250 milligrams of LSD in a final cup of tea with Joan before setting off for St John’s Wood to pick up Paul McCartney and Peter Asher and Tony Bramwell, the Apple team due next day at Bradford. <…> Paul seemed very positive and played us some rare recordings; ‘dubs’ he had made of songs, written by him for others, dubs on which he was singing for the first and last time. Maybe one day they will make an album of them, but maybe it will have to be over his dead body for I don’t see him wishing to complete that particular symphony in his lifetime. I said I had taken a dollop of the dreaded heaven-and-hell, and Paul said it should be an interesting journey, and it was. We stopped at a pub on the way up and I astonished myself by coping remarkably well up until the point where I asked the barman if I could buy a filthy table which stood in a corner covered in cigarette burns and the stains of long dead pints. <…> ‘Drink up,’ said Paul, seeing the signs and playing Dad. ‘Write your name here please, Paul,’ said the barman and we left.

We arrived in Bradford after dark. Some disabled people were operating rowing machines in a charity marathon in a local showroom. We wandered in and looked, leaving some silver in the collecting boxes, neither the first nor the last of the small spenders. It was midnight as we checked into the hotel. There wasn’t a soul or a sound except for the red-nosed night porter, as old as Moses. Paul had brought Martha (My Dear) with him – the sheepdog of the same name. ‘Can you shampoo her?’ he asked the porter who recoiled in terror. ‘It’s her arse,’ said Paul, and he put his fingers in the thick curls around Martha’s back passage and pulled off a cluster of clinkers. ‘Look!’ I nearly fainted. ‘I’m afraid not,’ said the porter. It was very late after all. Next morning, another lovely day. I felt very nice and clean around the brain, always have a lovely morning after acid. A few months earlier Paul and I had gone shopping for suits; he had told me navy blue pinstripe was already on the way back (meaning that he wore it) and I fell for it – and ordered one. I had taken it with me to Bradford; just right for Bradford I said. I wore it down to breakfast and then we went off to the Victoria Hall where the Black Dyke Mills Band were waiting on hard wooden chairs, looking bloody marvellous and real and solid and honourable and stocky and lots of other words like that. Paul had on a magenta shirt and a white jacket, double breasted, with black trousers (no one had ever told him they were on the way back), and the Black Dyke Mills Band was quite stunned by his charm and by the way he handled the music. Marvellous recordings were made, indoors and later in the street, of both ‘Thingumybob’ and ‘Yellow Submarine’. It was a good morning for everyone because the portable recording unit worked, the band and McCartney worked, and the press worked out beautifully – I saw dozens of old friends and we had a few pints and then lunch. At around three o’clock, as we filmed the last TV interview (‘How do you like Bradford?’ ‘It’s great …’; fast-moving stuff like that) I decided to off the suit and black shoes, put on a pair of red corduroys and a white Mexican cotton shirt from Olvera Street, Los Angeles, a couple of beads, an Indian scarf and down my throat went another 250 milligrams of the dreaded heaven-and-hell drug. What a day for a daydream. ‘Should be an interesting journey,’ said Paul. The chauffeur said: ‘Back to London?’ and we said ‘yes’, not sure that it was the right answer.

<…> As we rolled away from the South Midlands and approached the Northern Home Counties the acid really started to bounce. It was late afternoon and if there was a heaven to be found on this soil, then I reckoned it would be found this evening, in the green and gold of this divine countryside. ‘Would you like to swing on a star, carry moonbeams home in a jar?’ ‘Yes,’ said Peter Asher. ‘Where would you like to go?’ I asked. ‘AA Book,’ said Paul. ‘Pick the most beautiful name in Bedfordshire,’ I said, ‘that’s where we should go.’ Peter looked at the map for what seemed like two hours or more. ‘Harrold,’ he said, after fifteen seconds. ‘Harrold?’ said the driver, naturally knocked out with delight to leave the M1 and crawl down B, C and D roads to a village no one in the car, including himself, had ever heard of. We wound through Bedfordshire checking off the signs steadily until we reached the village sign: Harrold. Oh, it was a joyful Sunday sight. It was the village we were supposed to have fought the world wars to defend, for which we would be expected to fight the third when told to, but won’t. It was a Miniver hamlet on the Ouse and there were notices telling of the fete next Saturday, and a war memorial which made me weep. Thrushes and blackbirds sang and swallows dived into thatches and a little old mower wheezed as we walked down the only street there was past the inn which was closed, past the church which was open, nodding to a sandy man with a 1930s moustache and khaki shorts as he clipped his hedge and stared at these city people with funny hair and clothes. It was seven o’clock and acid or no acid, it was opening time and I steered us into the most beautiful village inn the world has ever known and there were three or four people in there, or more or less; magical antique villagers with smocks and shepherd’s crooks and also there was a fruit machine offering Jolly Joker tokens. Through the dancing lights, past the sparkle of the green and tawny bottles, I saw the sandy man with the khaki shorts. <…> ‘Welcome to Harrold, Paul,’ said the sandy man, the local dentist, downing the rich gold beer he had earned with his shears. ‘I can hardly believe it, in fact I think I’m dreaming.’ We next found ourselves in his house, below dipping oak beams, a banquet provided for us, hams and pies and multi-jewelled salads, new bread and cakes, chicken and fruit and wine; and the dentist’s wife, a jolly lady, still young beyond her maddest fantasies, bringing out her finest fare. Paul McCartney was at her table in the village of Harrold.

Hiding at a turn on the crooked staircase stood a little girl, shy and disbelieving. But she had brought a right-handed guitar and landed it in Paul’s (left-handed) hands but the wizards were producing this play by now and floating with the splendour of this, the strangest Happening since Harrold was born, the dentist and his wife, and the neighbours as they crowded the windows and the parlour, and the children, all caught their breath as Paul McCartney began to play the song he had written that week: ‘Hey Jude,’ it began. I sat peacefully, full of the goodness you can find within yourself when goodness is all around and the dentist’s wife picked up on it and asked why life couldn’t always be like this and I told her there was nothing to fear, nothing at all and the dentist brought out the wine he had been saving for the raffle at the fete next Saturday and we drank that to celebrate the death of fear and the coming of music to Harrold and then, and gradually, the dentist was freaking and he asked me what I thought I was talking about and for a moment it was very tough, very. Ah, but Dr Leary’s medicine was good that day and we came back to a good position again, but I didn’t feel quite right about the dentist after that, and I don’t think he felt quite right about me, but how was he to know and what was I to do? You don’t just tell strangers you’ve been taking that naughty old heaven’n’hell drug. It was now eleven o’clock and we were still in the house and the inn was closed but a winged messenger came to say that as this was the night of nights, never to return, the inn was to be re-opened. ‘In your honour, Paul.’ It was 11 p.m. Paul had The Look on his face, the ‘do we don’t we?’ I nodded: tonight we should. The pub was absolutely full. The whole village was here. Paul played the piano until at three o’clock a woman stood and sang ‘The Fool on the Hill’ and he left the piano to dance with her and kiss her on the cheek and then I went and sat in the little garden and cried for joy that we had come to Harrold. It was a most beautiful garden, with hundreds of old-fashioned flowers, lupins, foxgloves – that sort of thing, and Alan Smith came out, pissed as a newt and said, ‘Why so sad, old friend, why so sad on such a night?’ ‘Not sad,’ I said, ‘not sad, old pal, just happy to be alive.’ We left then, waved away by the Harrolds, by all of them, and we never went back and I never looked at the map again, not even to see if Harrold was there.

(As Time Goes by Derek Taylor)

(Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI)

Add to this

[helpimstuckposting]

I couldn’t get my earlier post out of my head, and then this happened so… I hope you enjoy a little famous!Eddie and dingus!Steve ficlet (ft platonic soulmate Stobin)

Part one | part two | part three

—

Steve and Robin had lived in Indy all of their lives. They shared the same schools, same teachers, same jobs, it would never end. They were platonic soulmates in a way they understood but couldn’t explain to anyone else, and that was okay. It worked for them.

Since they graduated, they’d been ice cream scoopers, movie rental employees, pizza makers, delivery drivers, movie theater security, bartenders, and now - surprisingly - musicians.

They had originally started messing around with song covers during their bartending era. Every Thursday was karaoke night, and they were both too competitive to see it as anything other than a chance to win, both trying to upstage the other. After a while, Steve started writing songs in his free time and Robin wouldn’t let anyone but her sing them. She posted their songs on Tiktok and Instagram just to see what would happen, and eventually they made their way onto Spotify and other streaming services.

A few of their songs went viral enough that they had a steady stream of listeners, and spent their free time putting more and more songs together. Their boss even let them play live at the bar on Wednesdays (and of course they’re still just as passionate about karaoke night).

It was a few months into their Wednesday shows when he showed up. Eddie Munson. It was just another bar in Indy, just a stop on their tour, just a coincidence that he happened to choose Robin and Steve’s bar. Steve noticed him during their set, and he was so glad in that moment that Robin was the lead singer because he was absolutely sure his voice would have cracked. Corroded Coffin was one of Dustin’s favorite bands, the kid wouldn’t shut up about them any time a new album or single was released.

Steve knew they were in Indy on tour, he’d witnessed Dustin’s spiral about not being able to afford a ticket, but he couldn’t believe they stopped in this bar. Dustin was gonna freak.

Once Robin and Steve finished their set, they went back to the bar to resume their actual jobs and Steve was once again stunned when Eddie Munson walked right up to him for a drink. Obviously Steve should have expected that, what else was someone going to do at a bar? But seeing someone he knows from the multiple posters plastered over Dustin’s bedroom wall, right in front of him - in the flesh, was beyond anything he could have predicted. Internally, he was absolutely freaking out.

Externally, he tried to keep his professional mask on. Munson was a regular customer, just a guy buying a drink, Steve could handle it without a meltdown. But man was the guy attractive. His band tee was ripped at the hem, jean vest with all its pins and buttons catching the light, and Steve could see the tendon in his neck pull as he laughed at something his band mate next to him said. Steve wanted to bite it.

He finished a customer’s drink, collected their card, and braced himself as Munson stepped up to the bar, a dimpled smile on his face that made Steve’s heart flutter like a dying butterfly in his chest.

“Nice set, man, your friend’s voice is gorgeous,” he said. “Can I get three rum and cokes?”

Grabbing three glasses from the bar, Steve began on the drinks. “Absolutely,” he said, his smile probably nowhere near Eddie’s level. “Are you here often, or just visiting?” Steve asked, attempting to play it cool, like Eddie was just any other person. This is ridiculous, Steve’s gonna throw up. Keep calm.

Eddie looked him up and down and smirked, “Just visiting for the weekend,” he said. A growing lump in Steve’s throat made him want to scream ‘I know!!! I know why you’re here!!! I know who you are!!! Hi!!!’ but he shoved that down as far as it could go, ready to choke on it if need be.

Steve set the finished drinks on the bar in front of Eddie, the musician handing over his card in exchange. “Open or closed?” He asked.

“Open. So, are those songs originals?” Eddie leaned into the bar, putting his face just a bit closer to Steve’s. He was gonna have a heart attack before the night was over, for sure, if Eddie kept this up.

“Oh, yeah, I uh… I wrote them,” Steve stuttered out. This was insane, he could pinch himself, there was no way this situation was happening. Eddie was gorgeous, dimples firmly in place because he wouldn’t stop smiling or smirking, his curls just begging for Steve to bury his hands in them and bring their faces closer. If Steve hadn’t been on the receiving end of hundreds of Dustin’s rants about Corroded Coffin, he knows he’d still want to drag Eddie out back and see what those lips tasted like, if they felt as much like sunshine as they looked.

Eddie nodded appreciatively and looked Steve up and down once again. “I’d love to hear more some time,” he said as he turned to leave, three glasses balanced in his hands.

“Well there’s karaoke here tomorrow night,” Steve blurted out, all attempts at remaining calm flying out the window because was that Eddie flirting with him? How did we get here? “You could stop by if you’ve got any free time.”

Eddie laughed, amusement flickering in his eyes and suddenly Steve remembered chasing fireflies in Robin’s backyard when they were kids. He started walking backwards towards his friends, “I’ll see what I can do!” he said with a raised voice, flashing one more smile that made that butterfly in Steve’s chest absolutely flip out. He was frozen in place, the shock of the whole situation settling deep in his bones. Honestly, Steve wasn’t sure he was still alive. Did he choke somewhere between the stage and the bar? Did he even make it to work in the first place? What day was it?

“Earth to Dingus!” Robin shouted at the other end of the bar. “A little help here?” she frantically gestured around her to the rising number of patrons.

A pretty decently sized mob was forming around the bar, snapping Steve out of his rock-star-induced-coma. He could freak out later in the privacy of his own home, right now he had work to do. And if his brain short circuited every time Eddie ordered drinks, that was nobody’s business but his own (and Robin’s).

—

Thank you so much for the encouragement !

[cherrylng]

Schwein interview - Sakurai Atushi and Raymond Watts [ROCKIN'ON (June 2001)]

Schwein, the Japan-German-UK trilateral industrial music collaboration - what's the story here?

Interview: Shunsuke Kosugi, Interpreter: Yoko Utsumi

Schwein is a group formed by industrial heavyweight PIG's Raymond Watts, Raymond's former colleague Sascha Konietzko of MDFMK, and Sakurai Atsushi and Imai Hisashi of BUCK-TICK. The members are from three different countries: Japan, Germany, and the UK, but the three groups that have come together are known for their activities that transcend national differences. BUCK-TICK's extremely Japanese song world is carried by an unusually cool Western sound, PIG incorporates samba rhythms into industrial music, and MDFMK showed a stage performance at Fuji that was like a motor with an unusually high revving speed. Their debut album, "Schweinstein," is an unusually high-tension work in which the elements of the three collide behind Sakurai's song world. In any case, this strangely distorted and captivating industrial world is one of a kind. It is a strange work that could only be possible with the combination of these three artists. Above all, Sakurai's ability to draw both PIG and MDFMK into his world is amazing. Schwein, which differs neither from BUCK-TICK, which is active against the backdrop of the so-called Japanese music situation, nor from a Western music band, is worth a listen. We spoke to Raymond Watts and Sakurai Atsushi.

First of all, please tell us how you came to form Schwein. Raymond Watts (R): 「A year and a half ago, I did a Japan tour with BUCK-TICK in PIG. During the tour, I started talking to the guys about various things, and before we knew it, we went into the studio together and decided to do something. I also asked Sascha from KMFDM and he said, "Let's do it", and before I knew it, this project was born. Imai, the guitarist of BUCK-TICK, and I had been in a band called Schaft before, and whenever I went to Japan we would go out for sushi together and hang out.」

What do you like about each other? R: 「The BUCK-TICK song I remixed before was an interesting song and the work itself was a lot of fun. It was also interesting to see how confused everyone was about this collaboration. The connection between BUCK-TICK, who is very active in the pop scene, and me, who has been working underground for a long time, is certainly a strange one. But we actually have a lot in common. We have a similar sense of humour, for example, and we have a similar approach to our work. We both need to be satisfied with the best in whatever we create.」 Sakurai Atsushi (S): 「That was my main question (laughs). He's a successful person in America also. But Raymond is someone who is always looking for new stimulation. He's always angry about something, he's always frustrated, he's always trying to destroy something. Well, he told me he wouldn't work with anyone he didn't like.」

What exactly are these frustrations? What are you trying to destroy with Schwein? R: 「I'm frustrated with Japanese music listeners. I mean, in Japan, there's a tendency to treat their own music differently from foreign music. It's a really stupid thing. Why is there such a gap between listeners who buy Western music like Limp Bizkit, Rage Against The Machine or KMFDM, and listeners who buy Japanese music like Luna Sea or BUCK-TICK? I have a hard time understanding it. When I buy music, I never pay attention to where the artist is from. It's really stupid. What is the point of describing one art form as inferior to another? It's really stupid. For example, if we said that American music is inferior to British music, we'd be sued for discriminatory remarks. I can't even say that one country's culture is inferior to another's. It's just a Japanese complex. Well, it's not like I don't know how you feel. For example, in the world of cinema, British films are always treated as secondary to Hollywood films, right? It's the same thing, isn't it? I actually prefer British films. But that's because we measure things by American standards. In other words, they're just comparing the amount of money they make.」 S: 「I don't listen to it because it's BUCK-TICK, or because it's PIG, or because it's MDFMK, but I also want more people to listen to it.」

Now I would like to ask Raymond, what do you think are the characteristics of Japanese rock that are not found in other countries? R: 「They wear a lot of heavy makeup. Don't you think so too?」

Yes, I do (laughs). What else? R: 「That's it.」

(laughs) Raymond, please tell us what you think are the characteristics of Sakurai-san and Imai Hisashi-san, respectively. (?) R: 「When I play him my song ideas and backing tracks, Atsushi sees them from ten different perspectives. Atsushi is a singer in the true sense of the word. He can express himself properly through his songs. I've never worked with a singer like this before, so it's very exciting to work with Atsushi. And with Imai, I'm attracted to the fact that he doesn't treat the guitar as a guitar. All the guitarists I've played with so far play a traditional style, but with Imai, he plays gorgeous noises that you can't believe are guitar sounds. I'm constantly amazed by Imai's skills.」

Raymond doesn't understand Japanese, does he? R: 「Yeah, that sometimes messes up communication within the band. But it's an old saying, but in these situations, music naturally becomes the common language.」

With the album "Schweinstein," I think it's more of a clash of your own characteristics rather than an exploration of compromises between each of you. Was this something that you guys intended to do? R: 「No, it wasn't really my intention, but I knew that when the four of us went into the studio together, we could expect strange things to happen and that we should be able to produce some strange work. I'm really excited by this kind of heterogeneous combination, this mixture of disparate personalities. Because the result can be something so bizarre that you would never have thought possible.」 S: 「It's exciting in that I want change, Imai wants change, and of course Raymond wants change. But every day was a struggle, wasn't it? It was a good opportunity for me to clear out some of the naivety in me.」

What are your plans for Schwein's future activities? S: 「I think we all intend to do that, though. We have our individual activities, but deep down we want to stay connected.」 R: 「I want to continue working in the future. First, we'll tour Japan in June, and then we'll each go back to work with BUCK-TICK and PIG. But I hope we can work together again next year or so, if we feel up to it. But it's a decision we make for ourselves, not one determined by record sales. We were very lucky this time. That's because we had a record company that was willing to take the risk and pay for a project like this that we didn't know would be successful or not. All four of us took the risk. But what is success anyway? If we make something good, I think it's a success.」

Translator’s Note: I want to thank yoshiyuuki for helping me in clarifying certain parts that stumped me, the first being the title of the interview and then a particular question.

(?) This part of the question stumped me at first when I extracted the text, because when I put it into Deepl and Google Translate, this was the result:

“(笑) 櫻井さん、今井寿さん、それぞれについてレイモンドの思う特徴を聞かせてください。”

“(laughs) Sakurai-san, Imai Hisashi-san, please tell us what Raymond thinks are the characteristics of each of you.”

But then I saw that it was Raymond who answered that question, so I figured out what the question should actually look like and rearranged the words to form a sentence that made more sense. And then I asked Yoshi if what I've done was a better result.

Please do support me on my Ko-fi! ☕

[babybatss-blog]

Could I please get a Sirius x f!reader where they move in together after graduating? Thank youuu

BELLA DONNA

Sirius x f!reader, 740 words 

Authors note: so honoured to have my first request, I hope I did it justice! If you’re not familiar with the song, I’d recommend giving “Bella Donna” by Stevie Nicks a listen as it is a pertinent part of the story :)

cw: none ~

Highschool sweethearts. That’s what Sirius Black and you were known as at school. When you were 14 the two of you got together, in an unlikely pairing of a playboy and an average girl. No one thought that you would last, but now four years later it’s clear that you two were there to stay. The “pocket change” that Sirius’ family left him was more than enough to buy yourselves a small flat, with only three rooms and a tiny outdoor space only fit for a table and chair. Your parents were generous enough to gift a couple of appliances to you like a microwave and a tv, but apart from that the boxes packed into your new home were few and far between, not even constituting any help from your friends.  

So here you stand, hands clasped in his and staring at the empty floor surrounding you, unsure of your next move. You could unpack, but you didn’t have cupboards to place anything. You couldn’t buy any cupboards either, as you had no money left to spare. Instead, Sirius walks over to a box with his name written on it in bold letters, and pulls out a perfectly sealed package, about the size of a pizza box, but much heavier and thicker and hands it to you.

“For you, my love.” He says, looking down at you with the same adoration you’ve seen time and time again before sitting down on the cool floor. You smile, sinking into a cross-legged position and carefully peeling back the wrapping. Its purple, with black and white cartoon dogs spotted upon it. After a minute of slowly unravelling the pieces as to keep the wrapping safe, a cd player and a single cd that has “Stevie Nicks: Bella Donna” on it are unveiled. “Ever since you broke my record player, I know you’ve felt horrible. So, I thought I could buy something we could both use, with an album we both love.” Silence lingers, Sirius waits for your response, and you wait for the words to come to you. Eventually, you place the player to the side and open the cd, putting it in and pressing a couple of buttons.

“You can ride high atop your pony I know you won’t fall, cause the whole thing’s phoney”

Stevie Nicks’ soft voice calls from the crackling speakers, accompanied by the uplifting hum of instruments. You smile at Sirius, and he smiles at you, pulling you to your feet with him as he wraps his arms around your waste and yours around his neck, swaying to the soft beat.

“You can fly swinging from the trapeze scaring all the people, but you’ll never scare me”

Singing along, huge smiles are plastered on both of your faces. You felt horrible when you accidentally knocked his record player off the shelf, but Sirius could never be mad at you. Instead, he finds joy in any situation, just like he has done before in any challenging situation. Whispering in your ear, Sirius serenades you with the following lyrics. You’re his Bella Donna, a north star he will always fight for. Although the lyrics may seem outrageous, as the centre of Sirius’ universe he forever ensures that you know he feels this way about you. When the beat kicks in, Sirius jumps back from you into a dramatic flair, singing the words at the top of his lungs.

“No speed limit, this is the fast lane! It’s just the way that it is here.” You laugh loudly, joining in for the following lines. “And you can say… I never thought it could!” The two of you wrap your arms around each other once again, this time faces mere centimetres away from each other. Here in this baron house, their old school mates would have never imagined the two would be so happy. But until the sun goes down, you dance and sing to your tiny collection of previously acquired cd’s as if there is nothing else in the world but the two of you.