#ignore how the guitar looks like ass I winged it so bad

[gayalanwake]

fanfic doodles :D

[mistressemmedi]

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

Greetings from Miley Cyrus - phenomenal numbers.

The streams of Zitti e Buoni are growing by the second, and ahead of Muse, on the top of the English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. We almost tripled followers after Rotterdam (from 1.4 to 3.3 million, ed). Contagious and universal madness: T-shirts and merchandise sold out in 10 minutes. Like records, tickets for a tour that adds dates and expands on maps. They are even looking for us in festivals where the Rolling Stones have played. - Thomas

After the whole cocaine scandal that was started against us from France, which was later denied by my drug test, in Spain there people have been making murals with my face saying "No drugs". Some tweets made us laugh: «Congratulations, Italy! I have never been so sure that four people have fucked each other ". Miley Cyrus started following us. "You are great". “You are more” . - Damiano

From rags to riches - what a story

It was only 2016, and we were playing in restaurants, on the streets, in via del Corso (famous street in Rome). Damiano without a microphone, Thomas's guitar with broken strings, Ethan drummed on a cajón. At the occupations of the high schools in Rome (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first gigs and half an hour of fame, between those who criticized us and those who said "these guys are so cool". One of the rare times in which they offered to pay us to play - 50 euros each - we offered that money to those after us, in exchange for the chance to play during their time slow, as we knew there would have been a bigger crowd. We already understood then how it worked. That visibility was worth more than the money. We still think so ». - Victoria

The intimacy of rock - Choice of a genre

Music allows is this miracle which allows one to talk about very personal and private topics, even difficult and delicate ones. They are and remain deeply yours, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage which is like a delivery, they also find their place in you, their elaboration. They are overcome, they are accepted. One moment it feels aggressive, one moment later a (soft) ballad. It's very cathartic. - Damiano

Against panic - The stage as therapy

I have suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it is a problem that I have worked on thanks to a course of psychotherapy, to my friends and family. Playing has helped me not to let myself be paralyzed by my fears, not to be limited in my private and professional life. I have learned to accept, to live with this side of me. I don't hide it. I no longer feel ashamed. - Victoria

This belief that only crazy people go to the psychologist is widespread ignorance. Nobody is born learned. And it is often difficult to understand why we are here, let alone the derivation and direction of our desires. It is a long and legitimate journey towards one's clarity. - Damiano

Essere fuori di testa – Ma diversi da loro (Be out of your mind - But different from them)

Already feeling a strong passion for something that is not a 'regular' profession but an artistic language, it puts you on a level where you're an anomaly, and while you're neither superior nor inferior to others, it places you in the condition of what breaks the mold but you're also being at a loss, leaving it to you to be bold and to take risks, hoping that they will pay off and land you somewhere. "What good is it if you don't stand out on your own?". You want to give it an aesthetic to your artistic dream, but to others it boils down to " You dress differently! You must be gay! ”, I'm 22 now and it makes me laugh, but at 17 it had an effect on me too. - Damiano

The beauty of being unique - Of believing in that and defending it

After all, we are all different not because we want to be alternative but because really no one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty. - Ethan

Fluid sexuality - Pride is freedom

We appreciate heels on men, we kiss each other, we have an open, extended mind, and we are proud of it. The horizons become vast, beyond the oppression of conservative families. With information on the web, knowledge is enriched and with it the possibility that minorities will be fewer and fewer, because majorities will be fewer and fewer. This will lower the volume to insults and bullying. If social networks can reach a village of 50 souls to reveal to someone, who is afraid of the darkness, that someone has felt that same fear.. There is no longer the need to give it a name, to define that "something" to fear, to brand it with labels that only limit you. Definitions have always had this effect on me. Gender should not even be considered in a person's judgment. Let alone orientation ". - Victoria

Sexism - A culture to be dismantled

Emma (Italian singer) dropped the bomb:" When I went to Eurovision, they insulted me over a pair of shorts. Damiano - half naked and in heels - was never criticized ". The judgment against women is constant, ferocious, and demeaning (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool but Vic a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader she is domineering and pain in the ass, who is successful because only because of her looks [and not the hard work she puts in]). As a male I am privileged, the harassment I suffer is not comparable to that experienced by a woman, the comments on my aesthetics are focused only on my aesthetics and do not insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thinking in a systemic way. But I did find myself in a situation, out of nowhere, with someone who, pulling close to her for a selfie, started licking my face ... "What do you want, did you ask me?" Consent exists, and it is a must ». - Damiano

To grow as a person - The only rule to follow

For me, to conform is the total opposite of educating oneself, and the asphyxiation of one's expression (of freedom). Fortunately, I did not suffer heavy bullying, to the point where I felt I needed to change to adapt to how others saw me. But the matrix of who I am and the aggression that marks me is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and loves dolls, then allow me the freedom to do so. I used to be a kid who wanted long hair and played with Barbies. My friends, as a teenager, looked my long hair and teased me: "You have to find yourself a girl with a short hair to make up for it". My grandparents took the dolls away from me and said: “Stop it, they're not for you” ». - Ethan

“I was six and I already could not tolerate the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things typically defined as feminine as a child, and they made fun of me for skating, for playing soccer, for not wearing skirts, for giving myself the chance to be as I wanted to be. I suffered a little, as I was bullied, but I had courage to stay true to myself, and today thanks to that courage I know that I could have been much more hurt, or I would have risked leaving the most important decision to others: the one about being just me". - Victoria

Love - music and girlfriends

I've been married to music for the past 20 years. I cannot wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary. - Ethan

Everyone goes through their own experiences, sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad, but it's never other people's business." - Thomas

When, for the first time, I developed feelings and attraction for a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage to go beyond the limitations I had imposed on myself. For society, being heterosexual is the norm and therefore often one automatically pegs himself in that way, giving up the freedom to experience many different shades and facets of love. Once I got over the initial insecurity of having to question one's own certainties, I lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone. - Victoria

I had paparazzi under my house morning and night. So, after four years of relationship, I finally revealed her name. I still have the paparazzi under my house morning and night, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore. - Damiano

The value of the group - Protecting each other

But the real relationship, the real family, is between us. Our band. We believed in it from the first day, even before calling ourselves Måneskin (moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon, on the poster for our first concert. We share everything, even the pain of the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because he was a victim of racism. Being a group is what we should all do together: stay united and not retreat in the slightest in the face of abuses generated by a distorted vision of someone "being different|. - Thomas

Non ho l’età – like Gigliola (It references Gigliola Cinquetti who won both Sanremo and Eurovision with her song "Non ho l’età" which translates to Not old enough)

Before us, the only one to win Sanremo and Eurovision together was Gigliola Cinquetti (in 1964). Is there is something for which I feel I am not yet old enough for? No, honestly no. Maybe for kids. I'll be honest, I'm not enough to be a dad. - Damiano

Reached the sky - What fears still remain

We are more than in the dream, we have conquered the dream. To fly high this high, there is the risk is to fall and get hurt, but we will try not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - somewhat presumptuously - reassures us rather than frighten us ". - Damiano

(ORIGINAL INTERVIEW IN ITALIAN)

[Please note that I have changed some words or structure sentence, trying to make it so that the interview made more sense lol - I skipped the first two paragraphs, which was basically the interviewer gushing over how pretty the band is lmao (relatable).

Any mistakes in the translation are sorely mine, nothing was proofread, so apologies in advance]

[unohanadaydreams]

I would kill for some awkward sex headcanons with your faves. Who has trouble getting it up? Who applies the condom on wrong? Who yells out the wrong name in the heat of things? Also, who cums in your eye and y’all have to come knocking on 4th division, blinded as you are by the wet ass money shot 👁👁

I can not express how much I fucking love this ask. Here are your unfortunately spicy takes below. @tater-tati come get your juice. please don’t get it in your eye. <3

Features: smut. not the fun kind but the funny kind. sometimes the sad kind.

Who has trouble getting it up?

1. As Nodt. Not only is he scared of death, but of ‘the little death’. He fucks like its the last thing he’s gonna do and will probably not have the courage to go all the way anyhow. RIP to anyone who wants to get nutted in. Your man gets soft the moment you ask him to cum.

2. Mayuri Kurotsuchi. It is truly painful how much this man wants to be above sex. He takes anti-depressants just to flaccid and Logical when you won’t leave him in peace. He’d be first place, but he refuses to permanently fuck with his huge wrinkly brain (tm).

3. Jushiro Ukitake. Poor guy just gets really worn out some days and either can’t start or fizzles out before he can finish. Just reassure him it’s fine and allow him to finish through with his fingers and mouth so he can salvage his dignity and it should be alright.

4. Ulquiorra Cifer. It’s not something with a firm explanation or cause. Sometimes he just can’t keep in the moment or the bodily feelings he has will just...leave. There’s really no tell or situation that keeps these bouts of numbness from happening, so sex can be a real roll of the dice. He’ll shrug it off and continue on without his third leg (wing?) though.

5. Ryuken Ishida. He’s become very adept at shoving the majority of bad thoughts and feelings down with keeping his mind on work. Unfortunately, this means sex can be a struggle when visualizing how busy he is gets in the way of visualizing you on top of him. Isn’t usually a problem since sexual escapades with him don’t usually involve his dick. (Kink master works around emotional and bodily problems: more at 5.)

Who applies the condom on wrong?

1. Byakuya Kuchiki. He isn’t ignorant about sex per se, just the particulars of casual sex, since he was groomed to be a squeaky clean figurehead. And you can’t really produce an heir while using a condom, can you? He doesn’t even know to where begin. He takes the unopened condom with absolute confidence despite his ignorance and pointedly does not look at you when you fix his handy work, which is so heinous you have to use another one. (He fucking bunched the extra latex at the base for some reason, leaving the head of dick no breathing room and it ripped.)

2. Keigo Asano. He’s just extremely nervous and keeps putting it on too quick, catching it with his nails, and ripping it each time. He makes a joke about how his cock is just ‘sort of a monster hahaha’, but he is getting sweatier and more desperate and oh no, oh no, he is getting soft.

3. Gin Ichimaru. Absolutely is on purpose. He knows how to put on a condom thanks to being forcibly detained by Unohana and given a menacing demonstration on a banana after pressuring a 4th division woman to fuck raw. Purely scumbag tactics.

4. Riruka Dokugamine. What, like she’s supposed to know? What’s she supposed to do? Watch porn or something? Disgusting. Learn how to do it yourself. She screams into her pillow later because she absolutely googled how to put on a condom and just fucked it up.

5. Like, every Arrancar. Szayelaporro is the only exception. Ulquiorra commits to learning after the first fumble. Grimmjow doubles down and insists its fucking dumb in the first place. Luppi refuses to wear one unless it’s an appealing color and probably flavored.  Nnoitra hates it on principle--its like you’re trying to oppress his dick or something?? Harribel says--with a completely straight face--that the pull out method will be fine.

Who yells out the wrong name in the heat of things?

1. Momo Hinamori. She apologizes the moment she realizes and is fucking horrified. Really, she has no feelings for [redacted] anymore. She doesn’t know what happened. If she could, she’d go into witness protection.

2. Shunsui Kyoraku. Especially if you’re not romancing something heavy and are a one night stand. He tries to laugh it off, rubbing the back of neck and shrugging like it’s a ‘what can you do?’ moment. If you are romantically involved he will get drunk and depressed about it later on--just another reason he doesn’t deserve you.

3. Shuhei Hisagi. He might be thinking about the Seireitei Bulletin or about that party later tonight that you were both invited to and blurt out a name. Like, ‘holy shit titstitstitstits also the captain invited me to drinks later holy FUCK wow that feels soooo good -chan you fucking goddess fuckfuck oh right Captain--’, kind of train of thought. He boards the apology train and makes all the stops--flowers, heartfelt words, physical affection, an alright song cover with his guitar.

4. Uryu Ishida. In his defense, you were roleplaying and he simply called out your character’s name. This will happen a lot. It’s pretty hot, actually.

5. Isshin Kurosaki. It doesn’t happen a lot but sometimes he calls out his first wife’s name and it’s just something you have to live with. Just sad and unfunny and horrifying.

Who sends you to the 4th division via indecent blinding?

1. Renji Abarai. King of awkward good intentions, he leads your blind ass to the 4th division and waits by your side like a puppy waiting for punishment. He just gets really excited and forgot aiming was important. You insist it wasn’t as bad as the time he shot his load up your nose, though.

2. Akon. In his defense, you were playing with VR headsets and he shot his load in good faith while getting an imaginary face full of 3D anime waifu titties. He can’t imagine taking this to his captain and rushes you to the 4th division before anyone in the 12th can spot him.

3. Nanao Ise. She holds a lot of stress, so when she lets go, the result is usually a ridiculous amount of squirting. She leads you down deserted streets and disappears when anyone shows up, leaving you standing while blinded for like minutes at a time. She would rather die than have her peers find out and leaves you at the 4th division the moment they’ve written you down for intake.

4. Rangiku Matsumoto. She really likes to ride your face and it is simply not her fault that you aid and abet her. Of course if you’re going to play slip’n’slide so often, something is bound to go wrong. She leads you down to the 4th and if she sees someone she knows she’ll call out like ‘haha, guess what?’. It is the second time this month.

5. Shukuro Tsukishima + Gin Ichimaru. They didn’t do it on accident. Gin probably did it out of boredom, just to see you squirm and try to make your way to the 4th with him assisting....barely. Shukuro does it because you tried to tease him about his cooking or something and this is revenge. Have fun finding your way to the 4th by your own power.

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Day 12: It Evaded Me - Poe Dameron

Day 12: It Evaded Me - Poe Dameron 

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader 

Rating: 18 +

This was a challenging prompt to write for just because of the wording but I am really happy with the way this has turned out.

Once again, thank you for reblogging, commenting, and liking. It means a lot to me that people are reading and enjoying my writing. :) 

November Writing Challenge Masterlist 

Day 11: Walk the Dog- William ‘Ironhead’ Miller 

You had been working on base for several weeks before you had first met him, the poster boy for the resistance, Poe Dameron. You were a transfer mechanic on a temporary assignment, assigned to Black Squadron. More specifically Black One, Poe Dameron's personal x-wing. The ship was hard to miss with its distinctive black and orange coloring it stood out among the others, just like the man himself. He was passionate (arrogant), outspoken (egotistical), and always (ALWAYS) messing up his damn ship. Which meant more work for you. 

This led to some colorful conversations between the two of you. It was getting so bad that after he came back last time you both had to sit down with the General and have a talk. You couldn’t stand the man honestly. It was like he was trying to get under your skin, and the worst part was you let him. 

“How’s my ship sparky?” came the smug voice you hated. 

“I told you stop calling me that,” you sighed, “we promised the General that we were going to be professional from now on and you make it really fucking hard when you call me...that.” It had been a late night attempting the repairs on Poe’s X-wing, the ship was in horrible condition after a run in with some ties. You were replacing a power coupling when you had gotten shocked. Poe had been unfortunately nearby and saw the whole thing causing thus beginning of your trouble with the cocky pilot. 

“Yeah, yea sorry about that,” he brushes off your comment, “but seriously how's my ship?” 

You groaned, “honestly? It’s a mess fly boy, how do you always manage to make such a mess and still manage to not die?” 

“I am the best pilot in the resistance, or hadn’t you heard?” he gives you that smirk and you honestly don’t know if you want to punch him or kiss him. 

Whoa...what the hell was that thought?! You shake your head to hopefully restart your brain into working again. Poe Dameron, hate him, horrible person, get it right. 

“You ok there?” Poe asks and for a moment you trick yourself into thinking he actually sounds concerned. 

“I’m fine,” you huff, “I just can’t stand to be near you for too long, I’m worried some of your ego may rub off on me like some disease,” you brush your clothes off for affect. 

You're too busy brushing yourself off. You miss the slight droop in his smile before he puts back on his poster boy face. “Well I won’t bother you anymore then, take care of my ship I’m leaving tomorrow for a mission.” 

“You're leaving again already? You just got back,” the words are out of your mouth before you can even process what you just said. 

Poe looks just as surprised, “yeah, I need to go retrieve some parts on Yavin for the General and I’m going to stay a couple extra days and visit my dad.” 

“Oh...ok...but, you’re taking the x-wing? Why don’t you take one of the larger transports since you will be bringing back supplies?”

“I am.” 

“Then...then why are you out here talking to me about your ship if you're not even taking it tomorrow?” your voice is quiet. 

Several emotions cross over his face before he masks them all with indifference, “I just want to make sure you don’t skimp on my ship while I’m gone.” 

Like a snap of your fingers, the ass is back, “Whatever Dameron, get the hell out of here and let me work. And leave BB-8, I could use his help.” 

The droid has been quiet during the whole exchange and rolls over to you. While Dameron was a nightmare his droid was the sweetest in the entire galaxy. You wave Poe off and he just turns away and leaves. 

You sit down and sigh, putting your head in your hands. Poe always left you with feelings you couldn’t understand. He could be so pleasant and then just...not in the blink of an eye. You feel the body of the droid press gently to your knee in comfort and you rest your hand on his dome head. “Is he always like this?” you ask the droid. 

Beep beep boop beep 

“Only with me? Well that’s a comfort,” you rub your fingers gently into your temples. 

Beep boop beep beep 

Your head snaps up and you look at the droid incredulous, “He what? Can you repeat that?” 

Beep boop beep beep 

You can’t help but burst out laughing, holding onto your sides as you almost slide off the crate your sitting on. “He...he likes me?! Oh BB-8 I didn’t realize you were programmed to tell jokes!” 

Beep Beep

“No, no BB-8 he does not like me, and I’m sorry buddy but I don’t like him like that either,” you pat him gently before going back to the x-wing leaving the conversation unfinished. 

The next morning, you wake up and shower. Walking to the mess hall to grab a quick breakfast before going back to the chaos of the x-wing. When you're just about to enter the mess hall you're quickly crowded back into one of the stone pillars holding up the structure. “Where the hell did you put them?” Poe Dameron asks, getting in your face. 

You push him away from you but he’s like a statue, unyielding. “What are you talking about?” you shout. His hand quickly comes over your mouth and you bite him. He yelps before pulling his hand back shaking it. 

“Will you quiet down! The General is in the mess and I don’t want her to hear us.” 

“Then don’t put your dirty hands over my mouth, I don’t know where the hell those have been!” you hiss at him. 

“Ok, okay….now back to my question, where did you put the keys to my transport?” 

“How the hell would I know where the keys are?!” you try to keep your voice down, “I’m a mechanic not your mother!” 

“Shhhhh!” he whispers at you before pulling you away from the mess hall and the warmth of your breakfast. You try to rip your arm out of his, to no avail.

“Where the hell are you taking me?” you ask. He doesn’t answer, just keeps pulling you back towards the personal quarters. 

When you reach his room, he pulls you inside before closing the door behind you, dropping your arm. “Ok, tell her exactly what you told me?” he gestures to BB-8. 

Beep Beep Boop Beep Beep 

Poe shakes his head before dropping to one knee in front of the droid, “You lied? Buddy, why would you lie to me?” 

Beep Boop Boop Beep 

“What do you mean you have something to show me BB-8? Show me what?” you ask kneeing beside Poe in front of the droid. You know it’s impossible but the droid almost looks like a delinquent child in front of his parents. 

BB-8 looks back and forth between the two of you before he begins to play a holographic recording. On the scene is Poe sitting down on his couch with his guitar strumming gently. 

“Turn it off,” Poe whispers horrified, “BB-8 turn it off right now.” 

The droid ignores him and continues to play the recording. Poe rises from his knee and begins pacing behind you running his hands through his curls. Your eyes are glued to the recording. 

“Why does she get under my skin so much buddy? It’s like...no it can’t be. I mean yes, she’s beautiful...smart...and god when she is covered in engine grease it’s one of the sexiest images in the verse….shit I...I like her don’t I?” Hologram Poe puts down the guitar before running his hands through his hair. 

BB-8 ends the recording and you don’t move for several minutes. Replaying the scene over and over again in your mind. You slowly rise to your feet and turn not sure what you're going to see. Behind you Poe Dameron, the hero of the resistance is staring at you a mixture of fear and hope on his face. 

You take a few hesitant steps toward him, he remains rooted to the ground. You reach out one hand tentatively toward him before placing it gently on his cheek, his head moves slowly into the embrace. “You like me?” you whisper. 

He nods slowly, “yeah…I wanted to deny it, it evaded me for so long. 

You nod slowly, running your hand down his neck, to his arm, and down to his hand. You hold his much larger hand in your own. He takes a step closer to you. “But you haven’t told me, how do you feel?” his words are low and deep and you feel the heat pooling between your legs. 

“....I think....you are one of the most infuriating men in the galaxy...but you're also kind, loyal, and the best pilot in the resistance, even if your reckless with your ship. I would be lying if I told you I haven’t been feeling something too.” 

He steps one step closer, and you feel his breath on your lips, “so what do we do now?” he whispers, you feel the ghost of his lips on your own. 

“This,” he whispers before moving the rest of the way and kissing you. His lips are soft and warm and his kisses are sweeter than any honey. He doesn’t push too far and your hands slowly reach up to bury into his curls. You open your mouth to sigh, and he slides his tongue into your mouth and you smile into the kiss. When you break apart for air he presses his forehead gently to your own. His smile matching your own. 

“That was...everything I thought it would be and more,” he tells you whispering. 

You press your lips to his lightly and he groans against your mouth when you begin to move your body against his own. He pulls back slightly, “as much as I want this, and god do I want this, I really need to find those keys and get going.” 

You pout slightly and he laughs pulling you in for several more small kisses. Both of you draw your attention to the small droid who is beeping happily. You both furrow your brow at him before he pops open a compartment on his body and out pops the keys on the ground. You both drop open your mouths before bursting into laughter. 

“I think your droid has been playing matchmaker,” you giggle at Poe. 

“Well if that’s one of the new upgrades they installed, I think it’s the best one yet!” he laughs with you. 

“Come along Commander, it’s time we get you off to your mission, we will have plenty more time to talk when you get back,” you go to move towards the door when his hand gently grabs your wrist. 

You look at him with questioning eyes, “I know I said this before….but I really like you….Sparky.” The grin that fills his face leaves with that same feeling you had yesterday, you want to either punch him or kiss him. But, this time you choose the latter, and you do. 

Day 13: Water Flowed - Llewyn Davis 

[gemma-lemma]

Cloudy Days - JJ Maybank x Male OC

1.5 – Stay out of the marsh

 When Parker woke the next morning, it was to a lady walking past the sofa he was crashing on. Once he realised that she didn’t just have awful taste concerning the colour of her clothing, but was actually wearing a cop’s uniform, he was suddenly wide awake and frantically scrambled to the end of the bed within 1.5 seconds, as far away from her as possible. Wide-eyed and heavy breathing he stared at her. Unimpressed she stared back, an eyebrow raised and a hand lazily on her hip.

“Do I have to be concerned about why this is your first reaction to seeing a cop?” She asked finally, voice husky, but pleasant. It reminded Parker of a home he’d never had. He shook his head slowly to get rid of the steadiness her persona seemed to emanate, and remembered that she was still a cop. He had met cops like that before, and they had been just as bad as all the others. Some even worse.

“Do I have to be concerned about you sneaking around my cousin’s house at eight in the morning?” He shot back after a quick glance towards the clock on the wall. She raised the corner of her mouth and formed her eyes into slits, as if she was saying ‘touché’.

“Your cousin’s house? That must mean you’re Big John’s nephew, am I right? Tamara’s boy.” She concluded and he nodded curtly, not really liking the idea of talking to a cop in general. Even less liking the idea of a cop knowing anything about his family. “My name is Sheriff Susan Peterkin. I need to talk to John B. Do you know where he is?”

Weighing how good of an idea it could possibly be telling her lies, Parker decided that she would go check in his room anyways and thus just nodded towards it. “He’s in his room. Fast asleep, I assume.”

She nodded and went on. Parker used the moment to go to the bathroom and get somewhat ready for the day. His shirt was completely sweaty, though, so he just shrugged it off and threw it in some corner. When he came back out, John B was already talking to Sheriff Peterkin.

“…of the things I heard, was that your Uncle Teddy, your guardian, hasn’t been in the state for three months.” Peterkin said, leaning on the wall to get a better look at a picture that hung there. John B quickly tried to clean up a little, and Parker decided to just stand back and watch the situation unfold.

“Yeah, that’s false.” He tried to save his ass, but she just lazily waved a hand at him.

“You don’t have to say anything, I know it’s true. I called the school.” She said without even looking at him. Parker studied her side profile, the way she talked and moved. She seemed jovial, and it unsettled him because it comforted him. The last jovial cop he had met had tried to get into his pants. Not very pleasant memories. He had almost gone to jail for decking him.

“They said you used to be a good student, but now you’re failing all your classes.” She said and walked over to the table, where she picked up the remainders of a joint and sniffed at them with a disgusted expression.

“No, no. It’s only one, and it’s history. The dude’s a dick. He’s out for me-“

“And I heard there was a fight on the beach yesterday.” Peterkin interrupted John B, clearly not caring about his excuses. “And a gun was involved.”

Now she looks like an angry mom, Parker thought, and immediately had to think about his own mom. He quickly pushed the memories down.

“Okay, alright. A gun? No.” John B lied, doing a miserable job at trying to convince her. He patted a hand on her shoulder and Parker had to stop and stare a moment just to admire his horrendous stupidity and balls of steel. Back at home, if you even so much as looked at a cop the wrong way, they would beat you up real good or worse. But Peterkin didn’t seem to mind as much as the cops in Jacksonville. In fact, all he got was a glare.

“Did I get in a dust-up? Yeah, but was there a gun? Pft. No. No way.” John B said.

“That’s okay. I know who it was. I’ll get to him.” Parker didn’t like the sound of that. JJ was a hothead and would most probably do something incredibly stupid. “All I’m worried about right now is making sure you’re in a safe home. And you.” She pointed a finger at Parker, who theatrically laid a hand on his chest and made a questioning expression. “I bet you’re not eighteen either. What can you tell me ‘bout your living situation?”

“Yeah, super safe. Super sound, sturdy, you know me.” John B scoffed, and Parker added: “I’m just on vacation, Lady. I’ll be gone soon one way or another.” He ignored the sting that truth gave him.

“Nah I don’t like the sound of that. I’m gonna keep an eye on you, too.” Peterkin said and eyed him sceptically.

John B quickly added: “And, Uncle T is comin’ back, so…”

“That what he told you? Well, if he’s really coming home, I think you should be allowed to stay.” Peterkin said, obviously not believing the Routledge boy. Parker couldn’t help but wonder why she would do that.

“Thank you.” John B said in a duh-tone.

“But if I stick my neck out for you, you have to help me. Tit for tat.” Peterkin said, and immediately summoned a picture of another Jacksonville PD detective in Parker’s head, who was as corrupt a cop as they could get. Hell, he probably sold and snorted more drugs alone than most of the dealers he busted together.

John B scratched his temple. “What does -what does tat mean?”

“Let me see, how can you help me? Oh, I know. So, a body was found in the marsh yesterday. Were you in the marsh yesterday?”

That piqued Parker’s interest, because it was not what he would have expected.

“Yeah, we were fishin’ for some drum.” John B said and cast a quick glance at Parker, who made a grimace that was supposed to tell his cousin to not spill a thing.

“Did you catch anything?” Peterkin asked.

“Nah, we were skunked.” John B said and quickly turned away before looking at her again. He wasn’t as bad a liar as Parker had feared.

“Strange. Fishing’s usually good after a storm. All sorts of things get stirred up.” Peterkin mumbled in a tone that said ‘You’re a good liar, but I know you’re talking shit, kid’. “You come across a wreck yesterday?”

John B feigned thinking for a second before denying. Peterkin held up a hand to mimic water-level.

“You’re skimming just above the surface, John B.” She sank her hand a little and drew circles with a finger. “Now, down here is foster care, juvie. Pretty big drop for a smart kid like you.” She raised her hand to eye level. “Up here is you and your little friends doing whatever you want. Outer Banks – or foster care on the mainland.”

John B sat down, Parker shifted. Peterkin was different from all the cops he had ever encountered, and he didn’t know what to make of it yet.

“You’re one inch above the surface, boy. If I was you, I’d start flappin’ my wings. Now, you sure, you didn’t come across a wreck yesterday?”

John B shook his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.” Peterkin turned around to face Parker. “How about you? See anything unusual?”

Parker chuckled and shrugged. “I haven’t been here in years, how the hell would I know what’s unusual?” He gave her a look that made it clear she wouldn’t get a single word out of him. She gave him a look that said ‘Just you wait, I’m gonna figure you out soon enough’.

She looked back and forth between the two of them, and Parker imagined seeing a hint of worry in her dark eyes. “It’s better if you didn’t, you understand? I’m going to look the other way, as long as you stay out of the marsh.”

She started out the door, but turned around one last time, disgustedly eyeing the Château. “I got dogs living better than this, John B. You might wanna think about cleaning up. And you.” She pointed two fingers at Parker, mimicking watching him. “Remember, I’m gonna keep an eye on you, Cloud.”

And like that, she was gone. Parker couldn’t help but wonder how she still remembered his name. He definitely didn’t want to meet her again.

John B threw a can against the wall and put his head in his hands.

“She’s unusual.”, said Parker, but his cousin didn’t bother to look up towards him. He decided to walk outside and take a nap in one of the hammocks.

 Parker didn’t know how long he had slept, but the next thing he knew were soft fingers brushing the hair out of his face and a melodic voice telling him to wake up.

“Leave me alone.” He mumbled and tried to turn away, forgetting that he was in a hammock and falling right out of it. Kiara’s laugh rang loud and clear.

“Oh, Parker, I tried to do it softly.” She smiled and crouched down beside him while he groaningly sat back up. He was shirtless, but when he looked up at the darkhaired girl, she did not only hold a hand out towards him, but also a crumpled piece of fabric.

“You brought be a shirt?” He asked confused, but she just laughed.

“It was lying around, and you get burned so easily. You’re lucky the hammock’s in a shadowy spot. Your sunburn’s already kinda nasty.” She gave his red shoulders a quick glance before helping him up. To his surprise, the piece of fabric turned out to be a light blue long sleeved shirt, which he just draped on but left unbuttoned. It even kinda fit his black shorts. Jokingly, he posed and wiggled his eyebrows.

“How do I look?”

“Fantastic.” Kiara giggled, and they walked over to where the others were, sitting down on a small couch. On the small table in front of it was a pair of bongos.

“Do you know how to play the bongos?” Kiara purred, and Parker shook his head.

“I know how to play the guitar, though.”

Her eyes lit up in delight. “You know how to play the guitar? That’s awesome! Listen, you teach me how to play the guitar, and I teach you the bongos. Deal?”

Parker smiled. “Deal.”

Their bongo session didn’t last very long, though, because John B appeared and announced that he was calling it off. “Peterkin said, if I stay out of the marsh, she’ll help me with DCS.”

“And you believed her?” JJ asked incredulously from his spot in the sun.

“Yes, JJ, I believed her.”

“An actual cop, John B. You believed a cop.” JJ looked at Parker. “What are you even good for if you just let him believe the cops, man?”

Parker shrugged. “I can’t decide what he believes in or not. You know, I’ve made the experience that people usually only learn from their mistakes once they start turning around and biting them in the ass.”

“Great support, Parker, thanks.” John B said sardonically. Then he turned back to JJ. “All I gotta do is stay out of the marsh for a few days, and she’ll help me out. It doesn’t help that your ass was the one shooting a gun.”

“You know what I should have done? Just let Topper drown your ass.” JJ retorted and Parker leaned closer to Kiara while the two of them kept bickering.

“Is his name really Topper?” He whispered, waiting for her to tell him it was some kind of stupid nickname.

She nodded her head. “That’s his actual name.”

“God, that guy just keeps getting worse and worse. First, he has frosted tips, then his name is Topper. What’s next? Golf?” Parker shuddered and Kiara and Pope giggled.

“They always, always win.” JJ said desperately and boxed a buoy hanging from the roof.

“Look, it’s okay!” Kiara shouted and he turned around.

“No, it’s not! They don’t want us to go down into the marsh. That means there’s something valuable down there, and you know it.”

“He does kinda have a point.” Parker mumbled and JJ looked at him gratefully.

“See, even Parker agrees, and he’s like – a total chicken.”

“Fuck you too, Maybank.”

“Okay – just listen. I understand why you don’t wanna go.” He pointed at Pope. “You’re the golden boy, you got way too much to risk.” He looked at Kiara. “And you, I mean, you’re already rich as fuck anyway. Why would you bother?”

Parker rolled his eyes at JJ, who now turned back towards John B. “But you and me, man? We got nothing to lose, we really don’t. And from what I can tell, neither does Parker anymore.”

Parker leaned back in the cushions of the couch. “Asshole.”

“But am I wrong? I know it didn’t use to be that way to you.” He said the last part to John B again.

“I don’t want to talk about this. I just don’t wanna talk about it.” John B mumbled and pushed past JJ, away from the group.

“So that’s just it?” JJ called after him. “John B, listen to me, I have a plan.”

He walked after John B and talked to him about scuba gear and rich kids not going to foster care, until John B finally agreed.

Parker rolled his eyes and leaned back, already seeing how this whole thing was going to blow up in their faces.

[chronicalanxiety]

[here are their cutie marks and a sketch of their human forms that nobody asked for]

Now here’s a huge ass description for the kids™ if anyone is interested

Zap Apple

Rainbow and Applejack's first-born child and Lil' Cheese's best mate. Zap is a daydreamer and has a gentle soul, he's that one ripped nerd that likes writing and drawing things just for the sake of it. Exploring and discovering new things and places is what really makes his eyes glow (history and geography hoe), so he can be usually seen carrying his saddlebag around all the time (you never know when you're gonna need sketching and exploring supplies). Zap also loves puzzles and is a huge fanboy of Daring Do Books like Dash (and adventure books in general. AJ swears it's because Rainbow used to read so many Daring Doo adventures to her belly when she was pregnant). While he can be smart, he tends to over-thinks things, Zap has a wide imagination and is easily one of the most compassionate ponies around, though he used to be easily coaxed into fights or manipulated by his feelings. Like a good apple family member, the boy loves farm life and has a strong fraternal instinct, but his nature just doesn't allow him to settle there, though he still finds some peace whenever he's back in the environment he grew up in.

Random facts:

- Zap loved wearing his Ma's hat so much that she gave one for him as a gift in a Hearts Warming;

- He lost part of his his right ear to a bad fall when he and some friends went exploring one of his first off-limits area;

- Loves collecting comic books and stamps;

- AJ entered labor right during a Zap Apple harvest (Yep, that's exactly how he got his name);

- Inherited AJ's stare and lie detector;

- Upon noticing Zap's resemblance to his great grandmother, Rainbow nicknamed him Baby Smith.

Applejoy

Rainbow and Applejack's middle child. Applejoy doesn't take her name for granted, she's a total sunshine and bringing people happiness is what really makes her happy. She tends to be famous for getting a bunch of bruises all the time and being a little too reckless, so much so she lost two of her teeth out of pure clumsiness when she was little and had to wait until they began to grow to get them back (still has the best smile), and she also used to break her flying goggles at least once a week. The girl is also very outspoken and sincere, though it can end up being a problem sometimes. Applejoy is the family's Poly Athlete and has strong and fast wings (as well as legs, the girl is speed itself), she doesn't do very well in school but makes for it in sports and is very disciplined when it comes to it (Rainbow is her personal coach for every occasion). She hates losing, but tries her best to be a good sport and not to show she's upset most of the time. It was also awfully difficult for Applejack to handle her being all over the place when she learned how to use her wings (no need to say she was very grateful when her next child was born an earth pony).

Random facts: - Inherited Rainbow's habit of napping on trees (Applejack didn't like the idea, she was always concerned her children were gonna fall and hurt themselves for being too cloud-headed);

- Loves to indulge in her mother's sugary treats;- Rainbow started calling her junior (or AJJ) because her name abbreviation is the same as her ma's. No need to say the nickname was a success;

- Sleepwalker;

- The bandana she uses around her neck is a part of the fabric of an old sheet she used to nap with;

- Likes a bunch of crafts, specially wood-carving, but isn't really gifted at most of them (doesn't matter because she always tries her best every time).

Cider Splash

Rainbow and Applejack's youngest child and Tank's best buddy. Cider Splash a performer at heart, he's a innate dancer and plays multiple instruments very decently, he's the loudest of the bunch in every way and talks everyone's ears off (some conversations can also turn into musical numbers for no apparent reason). He's the most headstrong and stubborn out of the three, so he'll almost always get really deep into a project (or anything, really) when he sets his mind in it. He has blessed hoofs like AJ and is by far the one who ends up helping with the applebucking stuff the most, though he has a natural charm with the farm animals and prefers playing with them (his love for animal plushies wasn't taken for granted). He also indulges in cooking (mostly by Big Sugar's influence). Cider was always jealous of his sibling's ability to fly, so RD tries to compensate by taking him for a ride every once in a while and making sure he's the first one to get Wonderbolts tickets whenever they perform.

Random facts: - His love for music started when Applejack bought him a toy guitar to get him out of his tantrums when he was little. Later, his grandpa Bow Hothoof gave him a mini drum set as a birthday gift. AJ and RD weren't very happy when he started playing it all the time and making a bunch of noise, but they eventually saw potential in it and started investing in his inate talent;

- No need to say cider is his favorite drink ever;

- His bandana was a handmade gift from his Aunt Applebloom.

Florence

Fluttershy's big baby and Agate's older step-sister. Florence is a very resourceful and hard-working young mare, though she tends to spends way too much energy worrying about results and is almost constantly on the verge of outright panic (she's usually seen gritting her teeth or generally flipping out, no need to say she does not fare well under stress, specially when she is given a task to complete). Florence is known to be very sensible and intelligent, and even though she sometimes puts her own paranoia before common sense, she usually manages to find logical solutions to problems. She learned how to deal with stress by canalizing it into something productive, thanks to Rarimom (which ended up being another source of anxiety, ironically). She also has very strong beliefs, and when forced to question them, she becomes very upset. Despite that, Florence is extremely loyal and kind and will go out of her way to help other ponies.

Random facts: - Her scarf was given by Rarity, it made her feel safe when she was little, and she still uses it until this day (Her moms had to bribe with her in order to get her to let them clean and wash it after months of using it non-stop);

- Probably has OCD;

- She has also been known to retreat into her imagination when under extreme stress, often picturing peaceful, grassy fields or tranquil landscapes to calm herself down.

- Florence loves her coffee, tea and Fluttermum's pets more than her life (She loved growing up around pets, they still give her a sense of calm and relaxation. Her mom used to use them to calm her down when she was crying or couldn't sleep, she would almost always fall asleep after caressing some pet's ear for a while)

Agate

Rarity’s most precious gem and Florence’s little step-sister. Agate has been a very independent gal since she was little, she has been described as curious, monotone and sarcastic, and also appears to be more logical and mature than some of her peers, typically being the one to call them out on their ignorance, she’s inclined to remain passive and stoical to most things that happen around her. She has a fuckton control over her emotions and wears a neutral expression about 80% of the time, but is actually a pretty chill gal and has a very good (and weird) sense of humor. Agate has a great eye for photography (specially Avant-garde stuff) and turns out working as a professional photographer in the future.

Random facts: - Lowkey a huge mystery fan and computer nerd;

- Has a huge soft spot for Fluttermom's pets since she first came in contact with one, she can’t help but to smile the whole time she’s around them;

- Discord's favorite gal right next to Fluttershy.

Lil' Cheese

So let's get this out of the way, the script says Lil' Cheese is a colt, but many people see them as a filly, so they ended up being non-binary in my headcanon because I couldn't decide their gender (but go with whatever suits you better).

"Don't worry, Zap and Cheese got another infallible plan". Cheesecake, AKA "Lil' Cheese", is first and foremost known for the ability to talk their ass off anytime of the day for whatever reason (they used to spend most of their time besides their mom, so no need to mention that they practically picked up all her goofiness and energy by osmosis), they're also an excellent actor and are known as "The God of Puns". They’re generally a popular and gifted student, however, they're foul-mouthed and kind of competitive (but despite that, they are generally well liked and always looking after their friends). Lil' Cheese uses their innate talent for comedy and natural charm and charisma to help attract attention to their mum's bakery. Cheese had pretty deep random conversations with Pinkie since very little, so they turned out to be a pretty good conversationalist and improviser.

Big Sugar/Little Mac

I don't really have a very elaborate description for him (sorry peeps), but I imagine Sugar as a very sweet (pun intended) Big Baker Boy that loves cooking (and eating, most of all). He has that big bro energy and always gives the best hugs, but can also have with no mercy when messing around with his peers. He's very well liked around Ponyville and known for his extroverted and warm nature, though he may care way to much about other's opinions and tends to take a lot of them personally. Being a proud member of the Apple Family, he's the embodiment hard-work and loves working on the farm, but his heart always feel in the right place whenever he's preparing meals for other ponies.

----------

Okay, so quick backstory time about how Flarity happened in this canon.

Fluttershy was going through a very rough time with her previous marefriend, she always wanted to have a child of her own, and seeing her friends having some of their own made her even more eager to have one, so she found a sperm donor and conceived Florence with the consent of her partner at the time. Their relationship didn't get any less toxic even after Florence was born, so as a good friend, Discord felt the obligation to intervene (along with the rest of the elements of harmony) and convince Fluttershy to just end it and let go, as it wasn't doing any good for both her and the kid. When she finally got out of it, Discord and Rarity were the ones who helped Flutters to heal the most.

Meanwhile, Agate was the product of Rarity's previous marriage with Fancy Pants and was conceived as the last hope for their doomed marriage. Turns out having a child didn't save their relationship and they ended up divorcing, both going their separate ways with their own lives and businesses, however, it was a healthy separation and they remained in good terms with each other. Rarity took this separation as a way to get to know more about herself and to spend more time bonding with her daughter, having a break from her business life and letting Sassy Saddles and some other employees take the wheel for a little while, though she didn't stop playing her part on the creative side. During the time Fluttershy was going through her healing process, she and Rarity reconnected and some gay stuff happened. By the time the series ended they were probably on the dating phase and close to engagement. They eventually marry and join their families together.

Also Discord's still a very close friend of the couple and helps them and the kids whenever and in whatever way he's able to. He loves spending time with the kids, specially Agate, who finds his chaotic energy specially amusing.

[reinabell]

Far From Home (Thorin x Reader)

A/N: So, I believe the song Far From Home (The Raven) by Sam Tinnesz is such a perfect song for Thorin. The video is above. I wanted to make a story about the reader singing it and Thorin being a bit awe struck. I decided to make the reader from our modern world, and she fell into Middle Earth, I’m sure you might have read stories like these where the reader is modern an stuff. Anyways, I hope you enjoy my first Thorin fanfic! Let me know if I captured his character correctly.

-Part 1- , Part 2

Pairing: Thorin x Modern!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mild swearing, angst, again?

Word Count: No idea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I remembered when I woke up here, Middle Earth. I had seen the movies, and read the books. I highly enjoyed J.R.R Tolkiens writings, they helped me escape reality. But to really, really, be in the story. That was something new entirely. The company was around me when I woke, of course naturally I freaked the fuck out. I was no longer in the safety of my own home, and strangers where circling me. I yelled and got up quickly, backing away only to have my back hit another person. That person I now know as Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey. He was one of my favorite people in Lord of The Rings and The Hobbit. 

They argued about what they should do with me... Gandalf said said that I’m a good omen or something of that sort and they should bring me along. To which some agreed, but the leader, Thorin, of course did not. The thing that really got Thorin to bring me with was the fact that I was alone, and if they left me out here I would surely die. He said they would drop me off at the nearest town they could.

I soon found out that I dropped in just a day before they ran into the Trolls who stole the ponies. Let’s just say that ordeal was... a bit traumatizing in person. Trolls are disgusting. Although I knew of how this story goes, and what the company and I would face, it was different to actually be in a life threatening situation over and over again. 

Then soon after being captured by Trolls we played a life endangering game of Hide and Seek. I am not a good runner, never was. Thorin was quite pissed when I kept falling behind and nearly falling on my ass every 5 seconds. So he just kept a hold on me, literally. I thank him for saving my life, although I did not appreciate being thrown into a rocky hole in the ground. That hurt.

Let me say, Rivendell is absolutely beautiful! It’s bigger than shown in the movies, much more places to explore. At the dinner I sat with Elrond, Gandalf, and Thorin (and Bilbo?). That made me really nervous, but Elrond seemed to know that I was not from this world. He practily took a look at me and told Thorin “Take her with you”, in a much fancier way, of course. I don’t know if it’s because he knew I knew the fate of them, or because he didn’t want me there. I hoped it was not the latter. Either way, Thorin wasn’t so happy. It took a lot of talking to get him to finally agree to take me with him. Elrond had approached me after dinner and said I was always welcome in Rivendell if I decided I didn’t want to go with the company, I kinda wanted to take his offer but I knew I had to save the line of Durin. I wanted to make a difference.

Giant mountain rock monsters? Terrifying. But I survived, so that’s good. The Goblins, I fucking hate them. They’re worse then the Trolls. When It came time to run again, Thorin quickly realized I’m still, in fact, slow. So he once again kept his hold on me, another point to Thorin for keeping me alive. Oh, and this is about the time that it finally kicked in that I’m in Middle Earth, but I managed to dodge that crisis of realization by having to run for my life, once again. Surprisingly, I managed to keep up this time.

Dwalin kept on having to pull me up from the tree branches because I kept falling. Point to Dwalin. I realized I have an overwhelming fear of heights, at least when I’m hanging from a tree for dear life. Bilbo mustered up his courage and did his, “I’mma save Thorin” thing. Thank god, because I was too busy trying not to fall to my death. The Eagles came to our rescue, a point to Gandalf because I was literally falling when they came. 

Once we where put down on Pride Rock, I had to sit the fuck down to catch my breath. That Bilbo and Thorin hug was sweet, but then the realization had time to fully hit me, it was not fun. Would I get to go home? Did I really want to? I wasn’t sure, but my mood was the lowest it had been in a while. I guess the Durin brothers realized I was quieter then normal, so they tried to cheer me up. It kinda worked, but not much. I managed to convince them I was only tired, so they gave in and let me be. 

Soon after came more running, Thorin kept his hold on me as soon as we started running. Thorin earned his third point for saving my life, funny thing is that it was all over the same thing. Running. That leads us to where we are now, in Beorns house. I was very thankful to have a place to properly relax. Of course I started to thing more about the fact that I might never see my family again, and may not be able to save the Durins, which of course made me sad. I sat farther away from everyone else, I decided to get my mind of all the bad by taking a look around, so I did. There wasn’t much to really look at, but a guitar caught my interest. It was a little big but I didn’t mind. 

I always enjoyed playing the guitar back on Earth, so I picked it up and sat down with it in my lap, I started to play a tune to one of my favorite songs. 

“You play the guitar, lass?” Bofur called from across the room. 

“Yes.” I gave him a short answer. I hadn’t talked much to anyone in the company, I mostly only talked to Fili and Kili and even that wasn’t often, so it caught me off guard. 

“You where playing a tune you seem to know, mind singing it?” Fili said.

“Oh- no no, I’m not a good singer.” I replied with a chuckle.

“Sure you are, just give it a try.” Kili joined in with his brother. He had a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

“It may lighten the mood.” Bofur added.

“The tune I was playing isn’t exactly a happy song, Bofur.” I said. “Nor do I know how to play any other song.” 

“Well, I would sure like to hear it either way.” He said. 

“Yes! Please do sing for us Y/n.” Fili added, once again.

“Leave the poor lass be.” Balin said across from the room, but they ignored him.

“Once we take back Erebor, I’ll ask Uncle to add your chambers into the royalty part of the mountain! We would have windows unlike the rest of the mountain.” Kili said.

“Kili, what makes you think I want to stay in Erebor?” I asked with a giggle. Kili put his hand over his heart and gasped, mocking offense. 

“Seriously though, will you sing for us?” Kili said.

“If I do, will you all shut up about it?”I asked them all. “No offense.” I added.

“Promise.” Fili said. Bofur, Kili, and surprisingly Ori, who had been listening, nodded along.

“Okay then...” I said. A small sigh escaped my lips, I didn’t think this through. I really didn’t want to sing in front of everyone. For a moment everyone seemed to get quiet, but I ignored it and put the guitar up in the right position. I took a deep breathe and...

(Play song now if you want to, video is above. I know the song isn’t with a guitar or a female but just pretend I guess.)

I'm sending raven Black bird in the sky Sending a signal that I'm here Some sign of life

I'm sending a message Of feathers and bone Just let me know I'm not forgotten Out here alone

The air is cold The night is long I feel like I might fade into the dawn Fade until I'm gone

Oh I'm so far from home So far from home Oh Not where I belong Not where I belong Oh

I'm so far from home So far from home

I'm sending a raven With blood on its wings Hoping it reaches you in time And you know what it means

Cause out here in the darkness And out of the light If you get to me too late Just know that I tried

Oh I'm so far from home So far from home Oh Not where I belong Where I belong Oh I'm so far from home So far from home

The air is cold The night is long I feel like I might fade into the dawn Fade until I'm gone

Oh I'm so far from home So far from home Oh Not where I belong Where I belong Oh I'm so far from home So far from home

Oh Not where I belong Where I belong So far from home Not where I belong I'm so far from home

The song ended and everyone was quiet, I started to get really nervous and embarrassed. I laughed it off, and tried to play it cool.

“I told you it wasn’t really a happy song.” I said, while looking at the ground. 

“That was beautiful, lass.” Balin said, his eyes held a gentle look to them.

“It really was.” Ori added.

“Um, Thank you. I know I don’t have the best voice and all...” My voice trailed off.

“Oh, it was amazing Y/n! You should sing more often.” Kili said. He had a bright smile on his face.

“You flatter me.” I laughed. I kept my eyes to the ground though. Suddenly, Thorin spoke up.

“Everyone, find a place to rest. We have a long day ahead of us.” Thorin said. I looked up and gave everyone a small smile the got up and walked to a different room. I pretended to be looking for something but really I just needed to calm my nerves. After a while of “looking”, I sat down at the table and laid my head down. 

“Everyone is getting rest, you should too.” I heard Thorin’s voice say. I simply hummed as a responce, keeping my head down. I heard shuffling and a chair move, I guess that he sat down opposite of me.

“I know it wasn’t your choice to go on this trip. So if you want, we can drop you off next town, where ever that it.” He spoke. I lifted my head up to look at him.

“Thorin, you have it wrong. I chose to go on this journey, Elrond offered me to stay in Rivendell if I didn’t want to go on the quest, but I declined. I chose this.” I told him. He stayed quiet for a moment.

“Why?” He asked. 

“What?”

“Why did you chose to come along? You can’t fight, you can’t even run. Why did you come along?” Thorin replied. I was a bit hurt, he really didn’t want me on this quest, did he? It took a moment for me to respond, I looked down at my hands.

“I know I slow the company down... I know I get in the way. I try not to, I really do, but it happens anyways. But...” I looked up back at Thorin, his blue eyes locked with mine. “I know why I’m here, I don’t know how, but I know what I’m supposed to do. And I intend to do it. You may not know but I do.” I finished. Thorin was quiet his eyes now on the table, he was deep in thought.

“That song...” He started, his voice was strangly softer than before. I hadn’t seen this side of him. He looked back up to me, and I seemed to read the question that was on his mind.

“I don’t know if I’m going home, Thorin.” I answered for him. “I’m not even sure if I want to...” 

“Any reason for that?” He asked me.

“Yeah, but I won’t tell you.” I stated simply, a smile graced my lips. Thorin nearly smiled back but he stopped himself. 

“Get some rest, we don’t want you slowing us down more than you already do.” He said, his voice was still soft though. I laughed and got up from my seat.

“You too, Thorin.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I really don’t know how I did on this. I had an idea, idk if I executed it right. I also have no idea how to write Thorin’s character so If you have any idea’s on how to improve let me know. Not even sure if there is enough Thorin x Reader in there. This might just be the begining of a story, maybe I can make a part 2 so I can add more Thorin x Reader. Oof, I really don’t know about this one. Give me an honest review so I can improve :)

[softsweetsuffering]

OC LIST (New)

Trey:

Has an ability to mimic or amplify abilities/powers of others, as well as telekinesis

Was previously part of a group of people who also had abilities, however after mistreatment and other issues within the group, he left.

He's got a good wealth behind him.

Extremely gentle

Handsome ;)

Loves photography

Has lavender hair

Respects all

'Secretly' Plays violin

Lowkey a sugardaddy

Hamrish Benat:

Has four eyes!

Pink and blonde hair

He loves parkour (as in climbing buildings and leaping around in gyms)

Has PTSD (There are two AUS of which I default as to how he obtained it)

Ready to deck a bitch

Trained nurse

Loves teddy bears and fuzzy pink socks.

Also goes by Hami/Hayden

Andy peters:

Strong, kind.

The quiet Big Type, doesn't always talk, but his heart is in good places.

Wishes he could do more

Buff + Tall

Wears a pair of dogtags.

Has red streaks in his hair for the fun of it

Is extremely brotherly to Adrian

is friends with Hami

Adrian Géarán:

Nervous Malnutritioned anxiety filled tired mess

Has emotionally linked fire abilities (does not like having them)

likes to make little robots!

Easily bullied

Missing an arm

Struggles with normal life

Blames himself for Andys death

Looks unintentionally vaguely like Fry from Futurama

Chris:

Leader of a summer camp for kiddos

Huge fan of the outdoors

Loves to garden

Red head with freckles

Healthy!

Good build, a little on the below-average male height

Likes to hike

Loves kids

Strong but pacifistic

Great smile

Surprisingly a little shy around other adults

Bisexual

Himbo energy

Douglas Connelly:

Just a regular chubby guy

His chub is only important because this man gives some of the best hugs, he's like a marshmallow

He is outwardly confident about his size, even if it sometimes worries him internally

He loves music, loves to groove in the kitchen while making snacks

Always open for roommates and new friends (one of his roommates is a hot bartender called Donovan)

A bit awkward but he tries his best.

Tucker:

Badass

Bunny hybrid (ears :3)

White hair

Likes to wear denim jackets

Fast runner

Has had experience working in the force

Izekiel Iris:

Bruised and abused in a facility

Was turned from human into A being of made of Paint (Useful? no. Fun? yes. Rainbow blood anyone?)

Loves painting

Wallflower

Easily anxious

Loves to draw on his own arms

Matthew Libelle:

Aka Matty Very delayed development wise as well as Autistic

Very much a texture lad, soft blankets are his thing.

Doesn't like loud sounds ( who does honestly).

Tries his hardest to function normally but it's hard.

Watermelon colours are his fav. Green hoodie is his fav.

Has watermelon pink hair.

Gale:

Eldritch bab

Was cursed by a group of guys who were messing with magics they didn't understand

Did in fact murder said group of guys and is traumatised by the idea he has become a monster

hears voices

Has Tendrils that have burst out of his back

Has the ability to move from this realm to the Eldritch planes and back. (is terrified of said planes)

Doesn't have a home

Black curly hair- frizzy- shimmers like Slick oil

Shy type kinda, tall Pale. cold.

Kinda wishes he could just go back to normal.

Would really like to eat some fresh warm bread.

Rowan maverick

Was abandoned as a teen

Also known as Rogue/Red.

Lost some of their tongues making them mute

Trained Assassin.

Previously part of a cult

Addict to painkillers (Caused by the mental issues from the cult and the loss of tongue.)

Bad with Physical affection

Could use a friend

Jace

Cop/Ex Cop.

Laid off after an incident

Has a pubby called Otis

Likes the occasional beer

Dad energy

Issac Merewen

Was previously a Teacher - grade 11/12s

Kidnapped and kept Drugged the hell up.

Was given the new name: Jess/Jack. AKA The Jester

Now has Amnesia problems .(Anomic aphasia)

Was stored Cramped in box.

Needs glasses. (Long sighted. Cant see Infront of him for shit without glasses. He specifically likes round ones :3)

Natrually Blonde

He was very inspired by the Chitty Chitty bang bang scene, “Doll on a music box”.

- He naturally has two different coloured eyes :D

-He likes podcast n occasionally audiobooks. Its good for learning/remembering words, and way easier than straining his eyes. Although it is upsetting occasionally when he can remember more of a book/podcast he’s into more than real words or real-life things.

Tyrone Li

Incubus.

Wise, Patient, caring.

Brown tattoos wind up his hips and torso, curling around his chest around his heart, and around his back, flaring at his neck.

Glasses.

Loves plants and flora

Sex lost meaning when he was younger. He wants true intimacy again but he wants to find the right person..

Glamors hide the following features:

Tail, brown that gradients into Green, Leaf like tip.

Horns, curled. (green tipped :0)

Glamors break usually after a certain period of time regardless of feeding, however, during bad situations/fight the body may unglamour to reserve the last of its energy.

Caspian:

Basically immortal but can die (Reincarnations)

Not a pacifist, but not instantly into violence

He was blessed by the Heart of the Ocean (Shes wonderful <3)

Can control water, can do minor healing with water

Can make water bubble/ boil when angry

Glowy veins when powers are active

He has had many many lives

Soft..caring..Doesnt remember alot of his past..

Doesn't know how many times hes died

Doesn't have alot of family or friends

Goes on many adventures

Elio Solren.

Nickname: Sunshine

Good lad.

Is a shapeshifter Dealt with being told he was happy and always upbeat. People leaving or ignoring him whenever he wasn't started building this sense of need to be happy all the time for others.

Lots of struggles with self image. Being perfect. Appeasing everyone. Poor self body love/self body image.

Is scared about The hate from humans about shifters. The jealousy and fear about them being able to hide behind other faces.

Smiles to hide the pain

Punk/hipster vibes

Intricate golden tattoos

Doesn't open up easily

Doesn't like to admit to being in pain

Kotori

AKA Corey

Owl lad!

Bright yellow piercing eyes. But is totally blind. (Face scars)

Loves music.

Plays the uke.. hums..sings sometimes.

Big wings- like barn owl.

Likes to perch in trees

Jeremey Caulfield

Winter baby

Was left bleeding in the snow at some point

Father Lovely old man (John)

Mother died (Ellie)

Birthday December 23h

Blue eyes

Black hair

Russel

Box boy

Glasses

Red hair

Real sweetheart

Really needs more dev ; ;

Jules

Loves tofu n chicken

Touchstarved

Stubborn af

Kicks ass!

Has Sass

Wears binders/sports bras for Lotsa running n such

Black hair big messy pigtails

Dark brown eyes.

Has a navy bear sleeps with it ‘doesn't care’ about it but does

Gymnast/kickboxing. Bandages around hands

Loved swinging bars since being a kiddo

Trampolines!!

Participates in Underground fight ring to make easy money

Sleeps on just a mattress

Has a laptop for study work but she's slowly giving up on bothering.

(She's not one originally but Werewolf Jules is one of my fav things)

Miles

Part mole, part orphan

Lives underground

Very light-sensitive

Is colourblind

Absolute nerd

loves tinkering with things

is scared of humans

very foggy memories of his parents.

Leilah/ Lei

Can make/control shadows.

Owns a Magic skull(Speaks to it)

Lives in the woods

Wears a skull to spook off people from her woods

Has Tattoos that are shadow/absorb shadows

Kinda bad at maintaining friendships

Emotionally Distant

Wears a cloak.

Bao Ketsuyki

Blood magic bab

Short

East Asian.

Pink/red medium length hair

Big pretty red flower scar from blood magic use on her shoulder/ back.

Little bit foolish, little bit reckless.

Has almost died a few times from her magic use.

Oran Audun

Pale

Punk

Irish

Plays Guitar

Writes in journal, occasionally song lyrics, occasionally little messy ink drawings.

Easy to aggravate (On edge) however is trying to learn how to meditate and be calmer

Covered head to toe in scars but still tries to find confidence in himself. He doesn't find it unattractive, but he feels like others have no need to witness his scars.

loves wearing leather/fabric wrist bracelets

Unwelcome hands have used his body as a research object

Very very against physical contact, needs to break into it.

Ray

Social worker works mainly with kids.

Has a Shy guy tattoo.

His family consists of a Good ma, younger sister, and super baby brother

Dad died but dad was good.

Dirty blonde hair, kinda messy

Short, 5’

Socks the pupper is his helpful lil buddy (hes so round and white and fluffy)

Super dad vibes.

Owen

a hockey player n gymnast.

His mother died when he was about 9.

has an older brother who is a bit of a big jock type

quite protective and caring of his two much younger siblings.

ended up in a nasty scuffle though at some point during his more competitive years in Hockey

This leads to following his passion for Gym

Pole vault, the rings, trampoline.

Still plays hockey among mates or strangers on the weekends in the cold months tho

Ends up taking a position as a gym teacher for kids after taking a childhood course since he was so good at it.

actually a really sweet guy

Soft but likes his sport and jokes.

He can hold his own somewhat more than he appears.

has blue tips/stripes in his blonde hair.

He often wears varsity jackets or baseball tees. As well as a couple other sport wear shirts. (A. Good few are from his bro ofc. Free merch)

He's short but he's got a fairly decent build on him.

He's got a surprisingly good tackle if you aren't careful. And a good grip strength.

Nohea

but everyone calls him Noah.

Works at a Boba tea cafe..

likes to surf.

has an Epic board.

Back and shoulders all littered with lines and tic tac toe-like scars.

he's the type to brush off any questions and change topic while smiling. But not super bubbly. Just. Go lucky.

has a few friends who like to hang out at the cafe

Was in a surfing accident that involved a lot of rocks.

Ila

4’8 Soft. Short.

Ready to protect.

Loves to bake!!!

Smells like a vanilla cupcake most of the time

Isn't afraid to fight although isn't trained

likes Yoga ( and yoga pants)

Needs glasses but doesn't wear them (tsk tsk, unless tryign to read recipes)

Dyes hair silver/white

Jake

Homeless

Snake hybrid can transform his lower half from human legs to tail

Also has fangs, and therefore venom

He's got a lot of sass

Can be a bit of an asshole but soft around the right people

Isn't used to kindness

doesn't cry easily

Steals food

Mac Hiato

Also known as Caf

5’6

Very Grumpy.

Very often has bags under his eyes.

Hoodie is life

Insomnia has serious trouble sleeping.

Has nightmares of strangulation

Occasionally sufferers sleep paralysis

Scared of dark- night lights

Owns a mouse called Bean

Does freelancing webdesgisn/coding as job.

Sits like a gay.

Lives on coffee

Minorly Lactose intolerant

Has One bad eye

Neema

Egyptian

Mechanic

Her dad's a mechanic and used to bring her to work all the time

dead mum: which affected her ability to emote.

Works part time at the garage

Dad likes to bring gifts on their small catch-ups that happen every once in a while.

Sheeee. Suffers a bit of resting bitch face.

she's kinda stunted emotionally because she was raised by her dad, who, isn't great with emotions himself being a man's man and all.

She's very much a tomboy gal. Doesn't exactly get dressed up. because she finds it tiresome and not "her".

Also if she did/does have friends the nickname Nemo 100% crops up because it's sadly alll too fitting but also kinda sweet.

She's actually really into cars and mechanics. Which is one of the few good reasons her dad and her are close.

She's hard to get to know, very quiet. And if you're someone who dominates the conversation she won't speak up much, but you'll be surprised to how much she's listened.

Just because she looks tired and done doesn't actually mean she feels that way.

Samson (Lemonade boi)

His name is Samson, but he prefers Sun/Sunny. (Other more affectionate nicknames include Lemondrop and Sunflower.)

He really likes going out to markets and stuff like that, little stalls or knick knack shops to find the odd kinda items.

He also really likes wandering big forests. (Hes got some o that fae energy) He collects various cool stones/rocks/plants from some of them. He also has some small vials from waterfalls and ponds he’s encountered)

He wants to practice magic to become a witch! He loves the candles and rocks and other cool things that come with the craft. (He inherited things from his father)

He really likes loose fitting shirts too, like flowy things, ones with sleeves that drape past your fingers, or has extra fabric on the bottom that dangle down past hips. (Sometimes they come from the ladies section just because they’re softer and have more variety. Others from op shops and other niche little stores.)

He bought a cologne from a witch that looks cursed but the only curse is that it makes the one who puts it on smell like citrus..so not much of curse. (The bottle looks fuckin neato tho)

He looves fizzy drinks. Doesn’t mind his alcohol either, however it takes a surprising amount to get him on his ass despite looking like a serious lightweight.

He’s pretty average in build, bit of muscle in his arms, some fat on his thighs. Slight pouch of a tum (cause no ones flat and thats unrealistic :<)

He’s about 5′4. So not tall, but not the shortest of the short.

He kinda likes to backpack about. Not staying in places long if they get boring. Which means he is kinda jack of all trades when it comes to work, offering to fix things for pay, lots of casual work doing various things.(One of his favorites was helping a little old lady run a paint shop.)

He occasionally snorts when he laughs and tries not to.

He has his ears pierced, and he has a little yellow gemed stud in his nose.

The ring around his neck he found in the middle of a patch of mushrooms.

He has a couple other tattoos. One of them is of bubbles up his wrist :3 He also has some stars on his ankle, and a sunflower on one of his fingers on his left hand.

He’s not super in to gardening but he does have his lemon tree. He also wants to grow some mandarins

His eyes look silver in a lot of lights, but occasionally there’s some strange hints of yellow, and other times blue.

He has freckles!!!! that look alot like bubbles ;)

He has a twin brother called Fraser.

Scrunches his nose

Hides his laughter behind his hand

[creativewritingpracticestudio]

Leave You Low(Twiggy Ramirez x Reader)

Era: Mechanical Animals era(1998).

This one is based on the request of @headoverhiddles <3 sorry it’s not great but I’m learning!

In this, you are Twiggy’s girlfriend and a guitar player for the band. The both of you are addicted to drugs, although you heavily deny it. One night, the drugs result in you and Twiggy having meltdowns on stage, and you’re forced to come to terms with the fact that you can’t continue this behavior.

Remember to send in requests for more Marilyn Manson x readers and Twiggy Ramirez x readers! Smut warning. This ones long, sorry.

Of all the places you want to be right now, performing on a brightly lit stage in front of tons of people with deafening sounds all around you isn’t one of them. You and Jeordie have just got done with another “date night”. That is, snorting lines, binge-eating, vomiting, and fucking.

Your head is pounding, body aching, stomach turning, mouth going dry and metallic. You feel like you’re gonna pass out. Looking at your boyfriend, he isn’t doing much better. Even for an experienced drug user, he’s done too many lines in one sitting. Unfortunately, there are no sick days in rock and roll.

You stumble over to your boyfriend, who is laying out on the dingy couch, eyes half-lidded and fingers twitching. “We’re on in 15, baby.” You lean down and pull him up from the couch. He staggers around for a second, and then leans against the wall, eyes closed. “Think we overdid it?” He shakes his head, and mumbles under his breath. “Wanna see a magic trick?”

You nervously say yes, and he steps away from the wall and lazily holds his arms out at his sides. “Ta-da.” Is that the trick? Holy shit, you two have definitely gone too far. “Um, very nice, baby. Good job.” He grins gleefully at the praise, and then promptly turns, leans down, pulls his hair back, and vomits on the floor. You flinch, and then quickly walk to comfort him. This is far from a rare thing.

When he’s done, you wipe his mouth off with a napkin and rub his head as he leans against your shoulder. “Sorry, baby. I think I did too much.” You shush away his apologies. “It’s okay, baby. We need to go now, Brian is probably pissed at us.” He agrees, and the two of you walk out of the room to find the rest of the band, heads spinning and arms on each other’s shoulders for support.

Brian automatically knows that the two of you are fucked out of your minds. “Where the hell have you two been? We’re on in 5. How much cocaine have you assholes done, you look fucking awful.” Jeordie looks hurt, but you roll your eyes. “Chill. You do cocaine all the time.” “Yeah, but I know my limit. You assholes fucking don’t. Now come on, dickwads. You better not pass out on stage. Vomiting is fine. But no passing out.”

You roll your eyes as he saunters on stage. What an asshat. Jeordie pipes up, his head resting on your shoulder, sounding on the verge of tears. “Is he mad at us?” You look down at your doped-up boyfriend, smile reassuringly, and shake your head, ignoring your own dizziness and naseua. “Of course not, baby. He’s just in a bad mood. Come on, let’s go.” The two of you stumble on stage, and you brush off Brian’s harsh words. Brian’s just paranoid. You and Jeordie are fine. Everything is fine.

———————————————————————

As it would turn out, everything is not fine. Things start to go downhill from the moment you and Jeordie get on stage. The lights are extremely bright and the fans and instruments are extremely loud, making your migraines and stomach aches worse. You haven’t gotten a migraine from drugs since the first time you and Jeordie used it. Not to mention, Jeordie’s so out of it that he almost misses several notes. If it weren’t for muscle memory from playing the songs so much, you two would be messing up almost every other note.

The stage is spinning, the fans are spinning, you’re spinning, Jeordie’s spinning. When it’s time for the finale, you know that you and Jeordie are absolutely fucked. The lights and strobes become 10x more intense, the fans scream as loud as they can, the song is the loudest one possible: Angel With The Scabbed Wings. Brian’s been giving you and Jeordie angry looks through the performance. Jeordie looks like he’s gonna throw up his entire stomach and intestines. You feel your legs start to give out underneath you. Oh Shit.

About 30 seconds before the song ends, everything finally comes to a head. Jeordie slams his bass down on the ground repeatedly and violently retches on its remains before tripping over his feet and falling flat on his back, legs up in the air. The crowd cheers louder, and you realize with a start that they think it’s an act. Which makes sense. Jeordie does stuff like that a lot.

Knowing you’re about to pass out, you follow suit, slamming your guitar violently on the ground, falling to your knees and throwing up. The song ends. Brian looks back to see why you stopped, and you can already tell you’re gonna be in for some deep shit for your little stunt when you get off the stage. But, he goes along with it and turns back to the fans, milking the finale for all it’s worth. As the crowd continues to cheer, Brian throws his mike down and storms off the stage.

The rest of the band have smashed their instruments in a panic to hide that the outbursts weren’t planned. Ginger hurriedly helps you to your feet, and John hoists your skinny boyfriend over his shoulder and carries him off the stage as he mumbles something about dog clothing and cupcakes. As soon as you’re out of view of the crowd, Brian kicks over a speaker and whips around to face you as you clumsily attempt to get your wasted boyfriend on his feet. “What the actual fuck was that?” You grit your teeth and turn away from his scary glare.

“Relax. The crowd thought it was a part of the show. Twiggy’s thrown up before, and we smash shit all the time.” Jeordie falls on his ass and stares up at the ceiling. “Yeah, and that shit is planned. That just looked stupid. Twiggy doesn’t usually get carried off the stage when he does that, and now we’ve wasted the instruments we were gonna smash in the next show. I don’t even care about that. You two need fucking help.” You blink. “What?”

“You two need fucking help. I wasn’t gonna say anything until after the tour, but this shit has to stop. You two have a fucking drug problem. I don’t care if you snort cocaine, just don’t do it so often it melts your fucking minds. I swear, every time I turn around you’ve got a straw up your fucking nose. Only addicts use straws. I’m getting you two checked into a rehab facility first thing after the tour is over. I’m not firing you and I’m not asking. You two are getting clean.”

You stare at him. “Brian, it’s not like we haven’t smashed shit and thrown up on stage before, you’re overreacting-” “That’s not the only thing I’m talking about, goddamn it! You two literally live off of cocaine, it’s all you ever do! You’re both addicted and you need fucking help. I’m not arguing with you. I don’t want to lose another band member to this shit, I already lost Brad. Both of you get the fuck out of here now and go back to your hotel. You’re not staying for the after-party. You start rehab in a week, I already have you both scheduled to check in.”

You start to fire back, but stop. It’s pointless to argue with Brian. You grab Jeordie from the floor, pull him up, and lead him out the door. As you walk out, you hear Pogo start to try and reason with Brian. You know it won’t work, but you appreciate him trying. The hotel is across from the venue, so the two of you stagger across the street, wincing at the bright lights of the passing cars. You go up to your room, and Jeordie slumps onto the bed and curls up into a ball. “You okay, baby?” You glance at him with concern.

“Yeah. We really fucked up, didn’t we? Do you think he’s right?” You sigh, and go to your bag to grab you and Jeordie’s pajamas. “Honestly..I think he’s got a point. We’ve never been that fucked up on stage before. And I don’t think there’s been a single day in our relationship where we both weren’t high. I mean, for God’s sake, our date nights are just snorting lines, binge-eating, throwing up and passing out. Going to McDonalds and shoplifting at Walmart if we feel romantic.”

Jeordie is quiet for a minute. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You’re trying not to cry, but your shoulders are starting to shake. Jeordie sits up, alarmed. “What’s wrong?” You wipe your nose with your arm, walk over to the bed, and sit next to Jeordie, hugging him tightly. “He said he doesn’t want us to end up like Gidget did. I don’t wanna end up like him. We really can’t do this anymore, Jeordie.” He just nods, and hugs you back tighter still. After a minute, you pull away.

“He’s right. We have to go to rehab. It’ll be okay..we’ll at least be together. And we can still smoke weed. And he’s not firing us. It’ll only take a few months. Let’s just get some sleep, baby.” You get up, walking back over to the crumpled nightgown on the floor, and peel off your tank top and jeans. “Fuck.” You turn around, and Jeordie’s hardcore staring at your naked body, his bulge obvious through his tight dress. He gives you a puppy dog look.

“Jeordie, baby, it’s late.” He whines softly, grabbing at his hard-on. “Please? It’s been so long, and I get really horny when I’m high, and you have the greatest tits I’ve ever seen on a-” You interrupt him by sitting on his lap and pulling him in to kiss you. He groans against your lips, grabbing your hips and moving your body against his aching cock. His hands tangle up in your hair, and you pull away long enough to fumble with his dress, hurriedly throwing it aside.

He lifts up so you can wriggle him out of his boxers, and you quickly wrap your hands around his dick, feeling it harden even more in your warm grip. You pump your hands up and down, twisting over the head and rubbing the tip with your fingers, his precum allowing for quick movements. His eager moans egg you on, and you feel your pussy clench, knowing you’re already getting wet. After a minute, he stops you. “Can you put your mouth on it, baby?”

You nod eagerly, and he gently pushes your head down. You force as much down your throat as you can, swirling your tongue around the head and licking long lines up and down his shaft and squeezing and rubbing his balls in your free hand. He throws his head back, moaning loudly and forcing your head down more. After a few minutes, his breathing becomes erratic and he pulls you off. “Can’t cum yet, hehe.” He gives you a goofy grin, and you playfully roll your eyes.

He goes for your bra, pulling it off and lovingly admiring your breasts before leaning in, licking and sucking on your nipples as you squirm and whine in his lap. You push his head closer to your body and stroke his hair as he leaves a hickey between your boobs and gently pushes you down onto the bed, moving down to your hips. You clench your thighs together, moaning softly at the pleasure. He rubs two fingers against your wet clothed pussy, and your moans get louder.

He pulls your panties aside and mumbles appreciatively. “You’ve got such a pretty little pussy, baby.” You gasp at the words, face heating up with lust and slight embarrassment. He sounds almost sober. He leans down, a hand on each thigh, and runs his tongue along the outside of your dripping wet heat. You squirm and instinctively buck your hips against him, and he repeats the action, licking up your wetness and gently pushing a finger inside of you as he teases your thighs with his tongue.

He works on your g-spot with his finger as his tongue works around your clit, and then adds another finger. Maybe it’s the drugs, or how tired you are, or just how desperate and horny you are in the moment, but you cum quickly, much quicker than usual. He cleans your pussy out, and licks his lips before aligning his cock with your hole and pushing in. “Oh fuck! Holy shit, Jeordie, harder! Fuck me harder, baby!” He grins at the encouragement and obliges, his hips snapping against yours in a quick pace.

His hand closes around your neck, and he presses down just slightly. God, you love it when he does that. “Who does this pussy belong to? Who do you belong to?” “Y-you, baby! Only you! This tight little pussy is all for you!” His hips begin to stutter, pace going erratic. “That’s right. Fuck, I’m about to cum. Say my name, baby.” “Jeordie!” His hand tightens around your neck, his hips slam into you roughly, his other hand begins to finger your g-spot again. You feel a heat form in your belly. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby!”

“That’s right, baby, cum for me. Cum on my cock, baby.” You throw your head back, gasping his name one more time as your orgasm washes over you. He cums at the same time, and you feel it dripping out of you as he sighs and tiredly lays his head against your neck. “Thank you, baby.” You rub his back, lightly scratching it with your nails. “I need to get up and pee, baby. Come with me, we can shower and clean up.”

He nods, and you pull him up. He, surprisingly enough, doesn’t stumble. “Are the drugs wearing off?” He nods. “You know, being sober probably won’t be all that bad. I feel pretty sober right now. Not too bad. Thirsty, though.” He picks up a bottle from the counter and chugs half of it down.

“Jeordie, you just drank perfume.”

[szivtalan]

8, 9, 16, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 25, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 34, 35, 36, 40, 41, 42, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 50, 53, 55, 57, 58, 59, 62, 64, 65, 70 (aside from Kagami 😂), 71, 72, 79, 82, 86, 87, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99 for the "Asks, why not" thing please? (Omg that's soo much, I'm sorry I got carried away ^^')

8) Your looks (add a picture or describe yourself)

Average height, bordering on short. Broad shoulders, thick arms and thighs, square face, slightly projecting ears (one pierced, one with a stretched lobe), bushy arched brows, thick square glasses, faded dark red hair, dark brown eyes, butt chin. I look pale and perpetually sleep deprived.

9) What do you/did you study?

I was in a teacher’s training program for English and Hungarian language and literature, and I’m planning to go back to school to study sociology!

16) What do you look for in a SO?

Consciously: understanding, fun, sweet, kind and accepting. Unconsciously: somewhat broken and in dire need of emotional help which I’m desperate to provide lmao.

19) Do you prefer serious and meaningful relationships or casual dating/one night stands?

Eh, u know, it depends? I don’t think I’m fit for a serious relationship right now, so I’d prefer casual stuff atm, but on the long run I do want a partner to share my life with.

20) What are your deal breakers?

Really obnoxious people, ignorance and bigotry I guess. And I’m not keen on someone pushing or disrespecting my boundaries, either.

21) How was your day?

It was good!! My bro, his girlfriend and my friend tagged along to get our (me and my soon-to-be sis-in-law’s) ears pierced, and then my friend and I got a loot of food. I didn’t exactly feel good enough abt myself to be comfortable outside, but I got a lot of random kindness and that was Nice.

22) Favourite food & drink

Food: teriyaki chicken and seafood pasta, drink: ginger ale and iced coffee

23) What position do you sleep in?

I sleep half-curled up on my side, but I need to toss and turn a little until I find The Best Position.

25) Your fears

The dark, needles, rabbits (I don’t even know, dude), the fact that I’ll die without having made an impact on the world, being spoken about behind my back, being a bad influence on my friends.

28) Any pets?

Not right now! I used to have two rottweilers around the house growing up, but they both passed away sadly.

29) What are your hobbies?

Writing, sketching, basketball, getting on people’s nerves, researching typology, watchin movies idk?

31) What was your last awkward situation?

Asjhdh the ticket control guy told me to “Have a safe trip” and I said “You too!”. This rarely happens to me tho

32) What is your last regret?

Not holding my friend’s hand on public transport. It was…right…there….and she already told me she’s more than comfortable with physical touch! I’m a fool! Everyone thinks I hate touching but I don’t! I’m just shy!

34) Do you believe in astrological stuff? (Zodiac, tarot, etc.)

Ehh. Kind of? As for believing, I believe more in ghosts, but I do see some patterns in different signs. I just try not to let it affect the way I see/interact with a person, because no one deserves to be prejudiced for whatever reason, especially not their date of birth. Tarot is just fun, and the cards r cool

35) Have any quirks?

I bite the skin on my fingers, scratch my acne, make my knees jump… most of it is just regular anxiety stuff tho so idk?? I do think I’m quirky, but there’s just too much weird stuff to list ‘em.

36) Your pet peeves

Cig/booze stink on a person, customers being rude, bigotry, interrupting other people… There’s quite some things that annoy me asjdgd

40) Last 5 things from your search history

Boku No Hero Academia, Hawks, duck emoji, Grumman fma, How To Train Your Dragon

41) What’s your device backgrounds?

My phone lockscreen rn is a beautiful KagaKuro fanart of them standing in the rain in yukatas, Kagami looming over Kuroko and shielding him from the rain and Kuroko reaching up to stroke his face; my phone background is an art of they/them pronouns tattooed on someone’s knuckles, their posture unsure; my laptop background is a screenshot from the movie Déva, of blue skies and a street lamp.

42) What do you daydream about?

…cu..cuddling,,my…crush……..

44) What's your religion/Your thought about religion

Short version: barf

Long version: I was raised catholic (even tho I was never baptized), and attended catholic school for 8 years which gave me a really warped idea of Christianity, Which made me a cynic & an agnostic or atheist by proxy. I harshly criticize the catholic church and faith but sometimes… when I do feel hopeless I get down on my knees and pray, so I guess if I let myself find my own faith I’d be a believer. But right now, I’m good just existing in my nihilistic bubble

45) Your personality type

Needy imeanwhat. In a typological sense, I’m an INFP in Myers-Briggs, 4 core 5 wing in Enneagram, melancholic or sanguine in the temperaments, et cetera. Basically I’m a sad daydreamer with unresolved issues and a need to do Art

47) Are you happy with your current life?

Nah bro. I like my friends and my workplace but I’d like to move out of home ASAP. I’d also… like to get therapy before I go and put myself out there.

48) Some things you've tried in your life

Playing the guitar, hostess work, weed, cigarettes, being blackout drunk, smoking from a hookah, cooking, football, handball, basketball, volleyball, cycling, sailing, driving, hitchhiking long distances, folk dancing, one-night stands, long-distance relationships, helping people in need…

50) Favourite colour to wear?

Olive green, midnight/navy blue, white, grey and black.

53) If you could change/add something to your appearance - impossible or not - what would it be?

I’d… like to know how it would feel if I had a flat chest and a penis? I also want bigger Guns, and Abs, some more tattoos and maybe an eyebrow piercing.

55) Do you get complimented often?

I think so? I usually brush off compliments uhhh but yeah maybe! Maybe idk

58) Songs you're currently obsessed with?

My friend’s playlist reminded me that ‘Phenomenon’ by Thousand Foot Krutch exists. I’m also really into ‘San Francisco’ by The Mowgli’s atm and ‘Golden Time Lover’ by Sukima Switch!

59) Song you normally wouldn't admit you like.

I mean, it’s not like it’s cringe or anything, I hate cringe culture BUT. I do have Ariana Grande’s ‘Side to Side’ stuck in my head rn

64) Can you sing or play any instruments?

I can sing pretty badly, play a bad tune on my guitar, drum on the edge of my table, so- Nah not really asdh

65) Do you like karaoke?

YES VERY MUCH I live and die for karaoke, last time I did it in front of an audience we sung the Shaman King opening at an anime con with friends, it was Rad

70) Your fictional crush/es

AH NO FUN Kagami’s my number one,,, let’s see then: Aomine, Roy Mustang, Kise, Mikoto Suoh, Hotch & Reid from Criminal Minds, Yagami Light, Jaime Lannister and Brienne from GoT, Rustin Cohle from True Detective, Shizuo Heiwajima from Durarara!!!, why is this list full of men I didn’t think I liked men this much

71) Which fictional character is you?

Eddie Brock from Venom I mean? He’s a whole ass mess.

79) How much time do you spend on the internet?

Yike. More than I’d be proud of.

86) Would you use death note, if you had one?

No way dude. I don’t fuck with that shit, karma would fuck me right back.

87) What changes would you make in the world, no matter how impossible, if you had the power to?

I’d eliminate money and power and just make it a huge peaceful hippie community or something idk

90) What would you want to happen to you after your death?

Donate me to a medical school I don’t care. Make use of me! I’m gonna be dead, I won’t have any more feelings left to be hurt or anything asdghdsg

91) If you had to change your name, what would be your pick?

I’ve had a name in mind that I tried out once, but it didn’t really work out for me after all. I’m fine with Vee and Vic rn. Anything that isn’t my given name. I do want to change my surname to my mother’s, but if I do that I also want to give myself a different first name, and since That isn’t figured out yet, I’m just?? Call me whatever dude

94) Write 3 things about yourself - only one of them must be true

Ugh, I’m bad at these. 1) I have plenty of moles. 2) My eyesight is pretty good. 3) I’ve broken some bones before.

95) Cold or hot?

Cold in beverage, hot in weather.

96) Be a hero or be a villain?

Being a villain is way too much fun, but I have too strong of a conscience to pull that off, so… hero, I guess.

97) Sing everything you want to say or rhyme?

Asjhdf singing is funnier and more annoying, since I Cannot Sing

98) Shapeshifting or controlling time?

Dude I’m non-binary. Shapeshifting for Sure

99) Be immortal or be immune to everything aside from natural death?

Aight I’ll give in – I agree to immortality Just This Once.

[thegoldenavenger]

guess who watched given and immediately had to shove tony waist-deep into this fucking thing because [they forgot they already ”wrote” this au]

it’s me

unedited as always, light spoilers for given if you havent seen that and wanted to. 

anyways, tony stark is the high profile son of a business mogul based in LA because the mcu loves giving tony centric plot points to howard stark industries is capitalizing on the silicone valley fever.  after a major manic episode tony uproots his life and goes to school in new york, as far as he can physically move away from his stifling family and the pressure. 

tony’s done with building robots for his father’s business, he’s done being manipulated by the adults in his life and he abandons everything from the stark life.  he picks up a guitar, learns how to play it, and never looks back. 

tony finds he likes the life of a garage band.  he glides through classes and focuses on his fingering (not that kind) and absent-mindedly writing down notes for songs he doesn’t really think he’ll write. He really likes being that guy, bringing out a guitar and everyone groans but people request songs anyways.  besides, he’s never really been a fan of wonderwall. 

of course he plays piano, it was that or violin and his dad thought strings were for girls. he’s used to playing in front of a crowd, stiff collared and sweating under the calculating gazes of his parents’ party guests. just another new trick to show off. 

there’s something so indescribably different about playing guitar under cheap lights in a garage, the casually gathered crowd gaining interest and beer and his fingers feel like splitting over the strings of his instrument.  The noise, the whine as he coaxes his guitar to sing, amplified through speakers that thump with his bassist’s steady beat and he can feel the sweat slick down his back making his shirt sticky. 

tony’s lucky to have met the bandmates he had.  Pepper’s a riot on the drums and Rhodey is tony’s constant, reliable bassist and both of them have deigned to take him under their wing even if he’s less experienced and more annoying then they should have to deal with.  Being able to play with them, it’s more than tony could’ve asked for. 

he’s happy with his life, which is why he’s a little less than pleased when he runs into a short, scrawny blond holding a guitar with white knuckled fingers.  tony runs into him, and the boy jolts violently, the guitar slipping the grip like he’d tossed it. it’s a nice guitar, so tony instinctively reaches out for it. 

“why are you keeping the snapped strings on like this?” he asks, taking the chance to inspect the guitar. 

“Give it back.” The boy says. well, demands. Tony does nothing of the sort. Instead he straightens it out and sights down the fret board. 

“it’s a nice guitar, but leaving your strings like this is a bit--”

“I said: give it back!” 

The boy’s grip is surprisingly strong for someone so small, tony thinks distantly.

“Okay! No need to bite my head off about it,” He lets go of the guitar, but doesn’t leave quite yet.  “Look, these will work to replace those...” Tony digs in his bag for a second, taking out an unopened pack of his own replacement strings. Maybe not the exact match, but they’d do well enough. “Get them done as soon as you can, it’s a shame to see something that nice look like that.” 

He gives the packet of strings away and leaves. 

Tony doesn’t think much of this incident.  But he guesses he made more of an impact than he thought because now he’s been ambushed by the same blond boy.  

“Look, I can’t figure out how to change the string. Just show me!” 

“Can’t you, I don’t know? Youtube it or something?” Tony asks. 

“Don’t be an ass! I just--” Tony notices how startlingly blue the boy’s eyes are as he glares to the side. “I can’t undue the pins.”

It feels like pulling teeth, the way the words force their way past the kid’s lips. Like he’s spitting out something bad, admitting that he can’t do something. 

“I don’t have the right tools and I--I don’t want to break it more.” 

His fingers grip the guitar awkwardly, and Tony knows that kid hasn’t played even one chord before.  Probably hasn’t played even a guitar themed rhythm game with how unbalanced he’s holding the body.  

Tony rubs the back of his neck.  

“God, I don’t know why I tried!”

“It’s fine--” Tony blinks as he cut into the kid’s frustrated venom.  

“It’s fine,” he starts again, “I’ll help. Here.” He holds his hand out and is handed the guitar very reluctantly. 

He remembers his first snapped string. The shock, the sharp sting as it flicked against his hand.  But learning to play guitar was painful.  From the blisters to the muscle aches, the endurance. He finds himself smiling. 

He narrates what he does, his hands gliding over the sleek body of the guitar.  “See, you need to keep track of the pins. it’s easier with tools, I can lend you these ones I have an extra set. My name is Tony.” He shifts the guitar so he’s holding it properly, plucking a string and adjusting the peg.

“What? What are you doing?”

“Listen,” He says, as he twists a peg.  The blond gets that look on his face again, the squinty one with angry eyebrows.  Tony laughs, and strums the guitar. 

The chord comes out sharp and clear. 

“There you go, it’s all fixed.” 

Tony thinks it should be the last he sees of him.  Tony’s pretty sharp, so he noticed the graphite smudges on his fingers and the large portfolio on his hip. An art student.  There’s no reason to cross paths again when Tony’s classes are all music based and he should probably start paying rent for how often he’s fallen asleep in the computer labs.  

But apparently that kid isn’t finished with Tony. 

“Teach me to play this.”

Tony blinks. 

“I don’t even know your name.”

“If I tell you, will you teach me to play?”

Tony shrugs. 

“It’s Steve.”

Tony tries walking away. It’s not very effective. 

He can’t really dodge Steve, and finds himself followed all the time now.  Honestly, tony would be a little flattered if Steve didn’t look like he was swallowing a lemon every time Tony catches a glance at his face. 

To be fair, Tony is kind of relishing the attention.  He complains to Rhodey and Pepper and they both roll their eyes at him before they start jamming. It’s after one of these jams that he runs into Steve again. 

He’s standing outside the door, his face with angry looking eyebrows but his eyes watery. His face is red, he doesn’t have a jacket and Tony is getting reacquainted with the cold himself now that he’s let himself out of the steaming jam room. 

“Teach me how to play like that!” 

Tony tries ignoring him, but Steve is determined to follow him, even through the cold, dry night. Even when his breath hitches and his voice turns reedy.  

“Teach me! Teach-- Te--” Steve starts gasping every other breath and Tony spins around.  Steve’s flushed cheeks from the cold have drained away and now he’s pale, pale, pale. 

“Steve!” Tony stops, right there, his hands hovering over Steve like concerned birds, unsure where to touch. Steve looks, if possible, angrier than ever, still trying to speak even while gasping. 

“Please, Steve shut up!” Tony puts his hands over Steve’s mouth, he doesn’t know what to do. “I’ll teach you, or whatever, just! Do you have an inhaler or something?” 

Steve points to his bag, and after Tony is done rifling through it and hands Steve his uncovered rescue inhaler, he’s grinning the smarmiest grin someone having an asthma attack can possibly muster. 

Tony finds himself feeling distinctly played.  He doesn’t mind it as much as he should. 

Steve is an incredibly stubborn student and Tony is perhaps not the most patient teacher.  He grabs Steve’s hands more than once to force them into the right position and demands he try again, and again, and again.  It almost gives him flash backs, but Steve almost dares him to be less than serious about the lessons.  Like it would kill Steve if Tony treated him the least bit kindly. 

Tony brings him to his and Rhodey’s and Pepper’s jam sessions.  He grins and points and says “this is how a real rock star does it,” and plays with a loose fluidity he hasn’t felt in a while.  He sees Steve’s foot tapping and grins widely, like he’s won something.  He feels like he won something.

Steve learns the chords and how to read tabs and even how to restring his own guitar, though Tony finds himself doing it more often then not.  There’s something really endearing about the ferocious way Steve devotes himself to learning guitar.  

They sit next to each other, out of class but on campus.  Tony is demonstrating a fingerstyle more suited to an acoustic guitar even though Steve is learning on an electric. It sounds like shit, but they’re both grinning anyways.  

“Then what kind of music do you like?” Tony asks, shaking out his hand. 

“Just, you know. Stuff.”

“Come on, you have a favorite song, everyone does!” Tony says, blustering. “You already know what I like.”

“I wonder...” Steve says, trailing off. He stares into the middle distance for long enough that Tony is about to laugh to break the sudden tension and switch topics but Steve interrupts him. 

“It’s like...” and he humms something, his hand doing half-aborted conductions as he feels his way through a tune. He trails off and looks into Tony’s startled face.

“Did you, did you write that?”

“Not, I mean, not really. That’s just what came to mind.”

“Freestyle, just now?!” 

Tony can’t tear out his notebook fast enough, transposing the notes steve had hummed onto the page. Steve finally looks something other than stubbornly angry or determined as Tony pries him for another verse, to repeat this melody, to hum that again.

For once, Steve finds himself following along with Tony, watching as his hand rushes to keep up with their conversation, as the notes spill across the page and Tony grabs his guitar half way through to pick his way through half written melodies. 

Tony’s dark hair is short, relatively speaking. It curls at his neck. But his dark, dark eyes are the same and his eyelashes sweep against his cheek as he leans over to check his fingering on the fret. He’s sitting cross legged and when he looks up to grin at Steve, Steve is already walking away. 

“He’s a genius!” Tony starts as he barrels into the jam room. 

“Ohoh?” Rhodey laughs and Pepper dutifully plays the rim shot as Tony slides his carry case off his shoulder.

“I’m not kidding, look, listen!” he demands

tony does his damndest to get steve to write songs for the band.  he reaches out and compliments him and buys him lunch, and new pencils, and compliments him some more and well, he’s out of practice with the whole shmoozing thing now. it’s fun though, and tony thinks steve at least enjoys the attention. 

at least steve enjoys the attention enough to keep brainstorming with tony as they go through their guitar lessons.  steve has a certain way of composing, tony notices.  he pulls notes from the air that tony wouldn’t choose, but it compliments the way he and rhodey and pepper play.  still, tony can’t help but think the notes are being written for someone else. 

tony knows this life can’t go on the way it has been.  He’s been expecting a shoe to drop for years now. but he’d been preparing for his father to fly in and tie him back down to the californian mansion, or maybe someone from his past coming in to wreck his life. 

he’d been a mess before the move. even after it.  he’s always expected it to catch up, or for his touch to ruin the good things in his life now.  between being half in love with the three people who care about him, and spending too long hoping three thousand miles was enough distance to outrun his past, tony knew his number would be coming up soon enough. 

at least he’d been happy for a while. truly, genuinely happy. 

he was the son of a household name, popular in the tabloids for getting in trouble, and the internet was forever he’d been told.  so he was prepared for the past to come up. 

He had just been expecting it to be his past to come knocking. 

bucky barnes is tall, broad, and missing one arm. he’d be impossible to miss and yet somehow tony didn’t notice six feet of pure american beef stalking across the campus. it must be the arm, or lack of arm. maybe how he kind of hunches down to hide it? 

He approaches with only the sound of boots to announce his presence and Tony looks up startled, but it’s only Steve this man has eyes for.

“That my guitar, Stevie?” 

Steve has kind of locked up, his fingers white against their grip on the guitar. His face is turned away, but Tony can see the tenseness of his thin shoulders.  Tony isn’t good for much, but he’s not gonna sit back while Steve faces whatever this is on his own. 

“Well, I don’t see you playing it anytime soon.” Tony says. 

It’s like shattering a mirror, the moment Tony sees the threads holding Steve snap.  He looks at Tony with something like disgust as he jolts to standing. “I’m sorry,” he says, before bolting. 

He leaves the guitar behind. Tony knows it wasn’t him that Steve was apologizing to.

“Was it something I said?” Tony asks the air. 

Tony doesn’t know his name yet, but Bucky Barnes takes the seat across from him.  

“Might’ve been me.” he says, like a confession. 

turns out bucky barnes and steve might’ve been a thing. tony finds out through less than reputable means, but bucky says himself steve feels guilty about the accident that led to bucky’s hospitalization and amputation.  

he used to play guitar

the one tony’s been thinking of as steve’s.  

bucky’s hand is callused the way a working man’s is.  If tony tried he could probably find the places strings wore at until they hardened, but tony doesn’t try.  he can imagine well enough.  like he can imagine the summers spent listening to guitar plucked on windowsills or whatever sickeningly cute domestic childhood things steve and bucky got up to

and, because tony’s never been one to let himself go without a good rubbing in, he’s found a couple ancient recording on the internet of bucky’s old high school recitals.  he can hear the strings of bucky’s guitar through the tinny audio and though and suddenly he knows just who’s fingers the notes for steve’s song was meant for.

tony won’t let steve go without a fight. whether the songs were meant for him to play or not, tony wants to play them.  he wants the chance.  so he drags bucky into the band whether anyone wants that or not. 

bucky can’t play the guitar--right now, tony suspects with enough research and bugging of that cute radiophyscist that could change--but he still wants to reconnect with steve and it’s easy enough to use that to tony’s advantage.  bucky’s kind of a puppy once you get past the six feet some inches and what seems like solid muscle. 

tony takes him aside one day, with his guitar and set him down. “listen,” he says, and plays the skeleton of the song steve had been helping write. 

bucky blinks, recognition in his eyes and tony nods as he plays.  bucky gets it, tony thinks.  steve is supposed to be writing these songs.  he’s good at it, in a way that tony thinks he used to be good at things. like he was creating something worthwhile. 

“this is steve’s?” bucky asks, softly. tony doesn’t have to answer him.  “I remember. it’s familiar like... hmm, how did it go...” bucky’s hand twitches like his fingers want to find a fret board. “like... i never liked the winter / the cold never leaves soon enough / and i’m tired of waiting / for the sun to call your bluff... something like that...” 

Tony’s fingers have stopped strumming, and he stares at Bucky with widened eyes. 

“what?” Bucky asks and Tony whips his arms out, gripping Bucky’s shoulders as if to stop him from bolting.

“you can sing. no one told me you could sing.”

“well, it’s nothing much.”

“No, shut up.  it’s amazing. you have to sing with us.”

It’s almost harder than convincing steve to write with him was. but eventually tony has all his pieces lined up.  steve writing songs, bucky singing. him, pepper and rhodey doing all the hard work. 

tony can sing, but he’s never been drawn to it the way he had been with playing guitar.  RIP to his father’s weird brand of masculinity, but tony just liked strings. Still, he knew enough to help bucky strengthen his voice. to sharpen his consonants and find where his head voice and chest voices lie.  

he plays scales on the guitar and leads bucky through vocal exercises.  It’s like working on fingerwork with steve, only bucky’s got less of a temper.  He’s surprisingly earnest, taking criticism easily and turning around with the proper work.  tony almost feels out of depth with the ease he has coaching bucky.  

where steve would shove and huff and yell when he didn’t get something right, bucky would nod and clear his throat and ask questions before trying again.  steve would roll his eyes and grab tony’s card so he could pay for his half of the lunch. bucky would smile that half smile and thank tony when he picked up the tab. 

it was cute. 

or, well. 

tony makes steve play the scales for bucky and spends a couple weeks jamming with just the band.  he’s rusty, he says, too much teaching means not enough practicing.  bucky seems understanding if melancholy and steve’s face is stubborn as always. 

it’s while all of them are in the jam room that pepper announces they have a gig in two months.  

“it’s a good opportunity to debut some of the new songs we’re working on.” she says. 

“we should start doing group practices at least twice a week,” rhodey says, narrowing his eyes at tony.  

“ah, we don’t actually have lyrics for most of our songs.” tony says, haphazardly. 

“we have some, you can teach bucky those. or you can sing them like always,” pepper says, brightly. 

Bucky seems to perk up, catching tony’s eye. “you have songs?” 

“nothing that special,” tony says. 

“I’d like to learn them with you,” bucky replies. tony blinks. 

“two months is enough time to write lyrics.” steve asserts. “bucky and i have been working on them anyways.” 

“okay.” tony finds himself agreeing with the rest of them. 

They spend some times going through their set list.  Pepper and rhodey bring up some songs they like that bucky and steve will need to learn. they rearrange the order to accommodate the new song steve and bucky have been working on. 

tony bites his lips.  it’s perfect.  steve writing songs for his band. bucky singing in his band.  pepper and rhodey, perfect and constant.  tony’s hands on the neck of his guitar. it’s as perfect as it can get. 

tony’s glad that the impending deadline is at least forcing steve and bucky to come head to head.  he doesn’t know what happened exactly, to drive a wedge between the two in the first place. he doesn’t want to ask. he doesn’t want to know. but being forced to volley lyric timing and melodies back and forth is eating away at the distance between them. 

it’s also driving home the fact that tony’s the last thing on either of their minds.  he can hear it in the chords he picks out, that steve has written for someone else’s hands. and even though he isn’t going to school for literature he can read symbolism when the lyrics are as plain as what bucky’s been mumbling under his breath for hours now. 

“i thought you were done marching to someone else’s tune.” pepper says to him as steve drags bucky through another practice. 

tony shrugs his shoulders. “i think... i think i’m happy we’re all here. together. i think this is happier than i’ve ever been.” he looks down at his hands.  he’s got the calluses from guitar blisters like every other wanna be rock star, but his hands are rough for other reasons.  his knuckles littered with scars from welding, his thumb and forefinger smooth in the places he’d strip wires.  there’s a burn on his palm from touching something that hadn’t quite cooled.  

he might’ve loved building once. that could have been his life. but he’s sure he would have missed out on this: real friends, who cared about him. who wanted to play with him.  he’s not sure he would have had that, if he’d stayed.  

it’s happier than he thinks he deserves, really. 

the date of the gig draws closer and while steve has been writing and rewriting the song chords--and tony and rhodey and pepper all drag themselves through rememorizing the new versions--bucky hasn’t submitted any lyrics.  

it’s troubling but tony can’t help but feel relieved each time practice comes and goes without bucky’s voice rising in some new chorus or verse. 

each time, tony claps his hand against bucky’s shoulder and grins at steve and says, “you can do it!”

“why don’t you help?” rhodey asks one time and tony shrugs. “i think they need it?” he answers. 

and, increasingly, tony is sure he doesn’t want to help write someone else’s love story.  it’s bad enough seeing steve strike through the tabs tony had just played and know it’s because he wasn’t doing it the way bucky would’ve. steve keeps writing for someone who won’t play again. 

tony doesn’t mind standing in that much. a replacement is what he’s been his whole life. 

but having to sit next to steve and bucky and help spell out why they’re having such trouble? tony’s never been a saint. he can’t just say “you like each other!” without any thought to himself. 

ah. 

he thought it. 

“it’s fine, we’ll just use the instrumental version and lead with Star Driver.” he says. 

“I’m fine with it,” Rhodey agrees. 

“Well, Bucky doesn’t have a part in Star Driver.” Pepper points out. 

“Ah, then we’ll start with uh, Monaco, Bucky you practiced the lead for that one, right?” 

Bucky nods but Steve cuts in. 

“why can’t we do it as planned? That’s the way we practiced!”

“because we spent the whole rehearsal playing the same first chords waiting for someone to start. We’re playing tomorrow, there’s no more time!” 

steve, angry faced as always, steps forward like his short, skinny body was ready to fight tony right then. 

“what happened to ‘you can do it!’ did you not actually believe that?”

“Steve, c’mon...”

“we’re out of time! it doesn’t matter if i believe in you or not if you don’t follow up yourselves!” tony says. 

pepper looks to the ceiling like a prayer.

steve scoffs, “it’s not like you ever believed in us in the first place! you just take whatever new shiny thing there is to put in your band so you don’t get bored and have to fly back to california!” 

tony’s fist clenches and rhodey pinches his nose.  

“we don’t have time for this,” rhodey says under his breath but no one listens. 

“whatever.” tony hisses and spins.

the next day is fraught with tension as they prepare for the show.  none of them are willing to back out, even if they’re a mess. 

“did we decide on a set list.” tony asks rhodey.

“well,” rhodey trails off. 

“we’re doing it as planned,” steve interrupts. 

tony gives him an unimpressed glare, “well, i’m good enough at improvising, whatever actually happens.” he says. 

steve clicks his tongue and turns back to his guitar, tuning it. 

tony pulls a face. he glances up at bucky in the middle of it, and feels kind of bad.  bucky’s been nothing but nice, it’s steve that has a bee in his bonnet. but tony’s words probably hit just as hard if not harder for bucky. 

tony clenches his jaw. 

“Ah, Bucky, I...” He trails off as Bucky meets his eyes.

tony can sing. he even writes lyrics.  he’s the front man of the band, or was before he drug bucky into it.  so of course, after steve and hummed the song to him the first time he’d written some lyrics on the back of a napkin because he couldn’t get it out of his head. and when bucky had started outlining a sketch of verse, tony’d rewritten those lyrics like the impressionable boy he’d tried to grow out of. 

he just likes playing guitar more.  he’s always like working with his hands more than talking in front of a crowd.  but as the hot, heavy lights turn on them, and the crowd in the cafe all face them he remembers the first time he’d ever played.  not just guitar but anything at all. 

plucking the ivory keys of a piano, the discordant clanging echoing through the big house.  his mother had clapped and he frozen up, suddenly frightened at the thought of someone looking at him, of seeing him maybe fail.  his mother had slid into the seat next to him, her finger showing him where to hit. 

his father had swung in and scoffed, said if he was old enough to fool around he was old enough to actually learn. none of this coddling, maria, get the boy a real tutor. 

Pepper taps her drumsticks and lays out, her foot keeping a steady beat. Tony automatically joins in, his fingers following muscle memory.  tony’s used to the lights now, he even likes it.  the heat and the attention. 

he hears steve join in, the dual guitar melody working even though steve isn’t very talented yet.  Rhodey jumps in, the bassline smooth and grounding.  

They play the intro, then loop it when bucky misses his cue.  the second time they loop tony glances away from the crowd to see bucky, sweating by the mic. he catches steve’s worried eyes, sees white knuckled fingers again, and he takes a step forward. 

he gets close enough to bucky he can lean into the mic, and bucky jumps at his presence.  tony grins at the crowd. this is planned, he says with his grin and waits until the cue comes up again. 

“how did it go?,” he says into the mic, “i never liked the winter, i’m tired of the sun. as days go on, i fall apart, and i thought this might be fun.” he steps back from the mic and plays breathing in for the next part. 

“I never liked the winter,” bucky’s voice cut in, and if tony hadn’t been expecting it, well. “the rain won’t go away. but it’s fine, you see, because this is just the start.” 

tony let his fingers follow the frets as he leaned into the song. it was a mistake not to practice this. it was a mistake letting bucky debut a song no one in the band had actually heard the full version of. but tony hadn’t been lying when he said he was good at improvising.  

he followed steve’s lead well enough--hell, he knew enough of steve’s style he could ape a riff or two if need be.  and he’d written down enough of bucky’s half thought poems mumbled through jam sessions that he might well have had the whole song compiled in his notebook somewhere. 

He leans back in for the chorus as bucky’s voice swelled. “And even if you let go, there’s something holding on to you!”

the concert is a blur, with the stage lights and the crowd.  tony backs off as bucky finds his feet, manages to get back to his own mic and sing back up from there. it isn’t like he’d imagined. somehow, there’s room on this stage.  hearing bucky sing, for real, for the first time. it’s tugging something inside tony’s chest.  and even though the riff he’s playing wasn’t written for him he finds that there’s a flair here and there, a little space for him to improvise. 

there’s a place for him here. 

he can hardly believe it’s over, just the cheers of the audience that make him aware that his fingers have stopped moving and no one is playing any more.  it’s a rush to get back stage where rhodey and pepper clap his back and yell, and bucky and steve both look ready to have some kind of attack.

“that was good, right?” bucky asks

“good?” steve says, incredulously.

“that was amazing!” tony exclaims. he throws his arms over both their shoulders. “that was something else!” he grins back at pepper at rhodey who are hugging as well. 

“i want to...” bucky starts, then stops. 

“play it again, right?” tony says.

steve is the one who answers yes. 

“we will! we have to!” tony shouts.  he can barely stop from jumping for literal joy.  the sweat under his shirt makes the fabric stick to him when he moves and now that he’s not under the stage lights his skin is chilling fast but hell if he can focus on that. 

“i want to write more songs.” bucky says

“i want to, too.” steve says and they both look at tony, like if he tells them yes or no they’ll listen. 

like maybe they want him to have a say in this.

“i want to play them,” tony answers. he bites his lips. 

“i want to play songs your write for me. and, i want to play songs we write together.” 

he closes his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. he can feel it again, the weight of someone watching him, the potential of failing in front of someone he cared about, 

“okay,” 

he blinks his eyes open. steve is staring, stubborn and determined, into tony’s face, like tony was a new fingerstyle he had to learn. bucky looked slightly confused.

“i did write the song for you... well, you and steve but--” 

tony inhaled sharply, looking at bucky for what felt like the first time in a long while. exhaling, he lowered his face into his hands. “nooooooo.” he whined. 

“this is why you can’t have nice things, tony!” rhodey yelled from somewhere behind him. 

“you’re always over thinking it!” pepper agreed. 

someone’s hands patted him on the shoulder. “i thought you knew, you were there when i came up with the first lyrics,” 

tony shook his head. 

“it was pretty obvious,” that was steve.

tony stuck a hand out to swat him, but found it caught instead. he looked up. “i guess it’s my fault.” steve said, “i’m not good at explaining things.” 

“neither am i.” tony grinned. “but i think i get it now.” 

“good”

[theladyofdeath]

V O I D { T W O }

Chapter 2. An ACOTAR fanfiction.

Nessian. Elriel. Feysand.

T R I G G E R  W A R N I N G : sexual abuse, self-harm. For more, see my post from last night by clicking here.

Previous chapters:  Fanfic Masterlist

“My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations.” - John Green, The Fault in our Stars

“That’s what you’re wearing?”

Feyre blinked, looking down at her outfit. She was wearing ripped jeans, laced boots, and a short-sleeved cropped top. She didn’t see what the big deal was. The hem of her shirt almost touched the high-waisted band of her jeans. A small, pale sliver of skin was all that showed.

“Yes,” she said, going to step past her father. 

He moved in the way of her path. “I think you should go change.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Elain is waiting for me in the car. Let me through before I’m late for my first day.”

“I will,” he said, crossing his arms, looking so much like Nesta that Feyre felt the need to cringe, “when you put on another shirt.”

Feyre didn’t move. “I’m almost eighteen years old. I’m almost an adult. You can’t tell me what I can and cannot wear. I’m not a child.”

“You’re not eighteen yet,” he said. “My house, my rules.”

Feyre took a deep breath. “And what? When I’m eighteen, it’ll all magically change overnight?”

Isaac began to rub his temples. “I’m not going to argue with you. Go change.”

Feyre turned around and stomped through the house. Instead of going upstairs, though, she went through the backdoor. It was a beautiful, warm, early-September morning. The sun was already fairly high in the sky as Feyre rounded the front of their house in the city of Velaris and found Elain sitting in her running, bright yellow convertible.

She smiled. “It’s about time.”

“Dad decided he wanted a last minute argument,” she mumbled, falling into the passenger side. “Alright, take me to hell.”

Elain laughed, putting her car in reverse. “Now that we don’t live near Nesta, are you the cynical one?” 

Feyre grinned. “Someone has to be, right? Besides, dad pisses me off. Nothing I ever do is good enough when I literally spend all my time working my ass off. I worked two jobs this summer, and he never once told me good job Feyre, you’re doing great. No, instead he has to get onto me about something. It’s like he looks for something to get on to me about.”

Elain glanced over at her sister as they sped down the road. “He loves you. You know that.”

Feyre nodded, but she didn’t know that.

The only one their father had ever shown much affection toward was Elain after the death of their mother. Perhaps it was because, out of the three of them, she looked the least like their mother.

Neither of them said anything more as they rode to school, the warm breeze flowing through their hair. Feyre wasn’t sure what to expect. She had liked her old school just fine, but she had heard good things about Velaris High. As they pulled into the parking lot, though, she had never realized just how big it was. Her last school had been tiny in comparison.

Students were everywhere, all in groups laughing and talking amongst one another.

Feyre’s nerves began to set in.

“I’ll be going to cheer tryouts after school,” Elain said, “so, if you want a ride home it won’t be until four-thirty.”

Feyre nodded, but she could hardly hear her sister’s words. Her eye had caught on the boy Elain had parked next to.

He was sitting in the bed of what Feyre assumed was his truck, downing a soda as he caught her eye.

And grinned.

His violet eyes sparked to life.

Under her breath, Feyre cursed. “Seriously?”

He hopped down from the truck bed as Feyre got out of Elain’s car. He was wearing all black, a short sleeved shirt and jeans, and Feyre imagined that he had to be burning up.

But, he wasn’t sweating, wasn’t even glistening. 

“Good morning. Enjoy your pizza last night? Made it myself.”

One of his friends, still sitting in the truck bed, with nearly white hair, scoffed. “No he didn’t.”

The boy rolled his eyes. “This is Kallias. Beside him is his girlfriend, Viv, and that’s Helion.”

They all waved. Feyre, not wanting to be completely rude, waved back.“

And this is…” he paused, waiting for a name.

“Feyre,” Elain said, coming up behind her, when her sister said nothing. “I’m Elain. We just moved here at the beginning of the summer.”

He grinned, not taking his eyes, those damn, beautiful eyes, from Feyre’s. “I’m Rhys. It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”

~~~

“What the fuck did you do to your hair?”

Nesta had gone to his apartment and he hadn’t said as much as a hello before the scolding began.

“Making a statement,” she said, shrugging, as if his question hadn’t been a slap in the face.

“You look ridiculous,” he said, closing the door behind her.

She didn’t bother to correct him. 

“What have you been doing today?” she asked, sitting on his couch. “Good day at work?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

The moment his ass hit the couch his hand was working its way up her thigh. 

“Didn’t you start classes today?”

Nesta nodded. “I just had one. This morning.”

She almost hadn’t gotten out of bed to go, but she didn’t bother to tell him that. He would just scold her about that, too.

His fingers reached between her thighs and he rubbed, gently. Before she knew it, his mouth was on her neck and he was pushing her back, lying over her.

“Tomas,” she began, pushing on his chest.

He didn’t take the hint.

His mouth pressed against hers and she cringed.

He was too heavy for her to push off. She was already small, and she hadn’t been eating much lately or sleeping well.

Weak.

She was weak.

“Tomas,” she said again, panic beginning to set in. “Stop.”

He didn’t. His hand slid beneath her shirt, his hips against her own, pinning her body in place.

“I’m not in the mood,” she said into his mouth.

He cupped her breast, thrusting his hips into hers, reaching for the band of her leggings with his free hand.

“Stop!” she yelled, beginning to slap at his back. “I’ve asked you to stop!”

He pulled back, slightly. His eyes were lit with anger as he said, “You’re an idiot.”

“It’s okay for me to say no sometimes,” she hissed.

He shook his head. “Do you realize how stupid you sound?”

Stupid. Idiot. No personality.

“I’m not in the mood,” she repeated, shoving at his chest again.

“Then I’ll get you in the mood,” he snapped back.

Stupid.

Idiot.

No personality.

Worthless, pathetic, useless.

Nesta said nothing more as he stripped her down and explored her body. She didn’t move, didn’t speak, hardly breathed as he did as he wished.

Her emotions turned off, the little she felt going completely numb as she lied there, staring at the ceiling as he moved in and out of her.

His hand crept up to her throat and pushed.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

But she didn’t care. She didn’t want to breathe, anyway.

“You like that?” he asked, grunting as he pushed, his hand around her throat tightening as he neared his climax.

Nesta said nothing as her vision began to cloud.

She closed her eyes, counting the seconds until it was over.

“You could have at least pretended like you were into it,” he hissed, once he was finished, as he crawled off of her and walked into the washroom. Nesta lied perfectly still, not bothering to wash him off her as tears slid down her cold, porcelain cheeks. 

~~~~

Feyre sat on the bleachers, watching potential cheerleaders gather on the gym floor.

She had walked away from Rhys that morning, determined to ignore him all day. She didn’t know what it was about him, but something about him rubbed her the wrong way.

She knew for a fact that it wasn’t because he was undoubtedly handsome.

“Are you here for cheer tryouts?”

Feyre blinked, realizing the blonde girl in front of her was talking to her.

“Oh, um,” Feyre began, struggling to find words. “No, I’m just waiting for my sister.”

She lifted a brow. “Are you sure? Open tryouts. We have a lot of spots we need to fill. Come on, give it a shot.”

Her smile was warm, and Feyre almost felt guilty when she said, “No, sorry, cheer isn’t really...my thing.”

The girl wasn’t offended. Her smile just brightened. “Fair enough. If you change your mind, feel free to jump in at any time.”

With that, she turned around and went to the center of the gym. “Hello, cheerleaders! My name is Mor. I’m captain of this squad and the one who’ll be deciding if you’ve got what it takes to cheer for VHS!”

Feyre spotted Elain on the far side of the court, brown eyes bright. She looked like she was doing okay. Elain was a fairly confident girl, and she was a great cheerleader. Realizing she didn’t need Feyre sitting there the entire time, she got up and quietly exited the gym, if only so Mor wouldn’t approach her again.

She seemed nice but awfully pushy. The halls were quiet.

Feyre liked the school better this way. She hadn’t had a bad day. It had really all been a blur. She had six classes, with lunch right in the middle. She had eaten alone, but she hadn’t minded that much, either.

Feyre went past her locker, down the arts wing. The art room was empty and, to her dismay, locked.

A sweet, soft sound traveled down the hall from the last room on the left. A guitar, acoustic, and a male’s voice. She couldn’t make out his words. It was as if he wasn’t quite confident in what he was singing, but Feyre was entranced.

She walked closer with quiet footsteps.

The door to the music room was open, but Feyre didn’t enter. Instead, she stood off to the side, peeking in as far as she could without being noticed.

There he sat, hunched over a black acoustic guitar, bangs hanging in his eyes as he sang a melody. His fingers moved expertly across the fretboard, picking the strings without fault.

Rhys. The grin he’d had during their two encounters was gone. His eyes were closed, his mouth softly hanging open as he played, as he sang.

His voice was beautiful, captivating, melodic.

Feyre leaned against the wall just outside of the music room and simply listened.

Beautiful.

It was beautiful.

She stayed there, listening, until the music stopped and she heard him walking across the room. Without another thought, Feyre ran back down the hall and into the girl’s room, where she hid until she saw him walk past.

His voice replayed in her mind for the rest of the day.

~~~~

Nesta had left Tomas shortly after their encounter on the couch that afternoon.

She’d gone home, turned off her phone, and turned on a movie. When she realized she had no idea what was going on between the characters on screen, she went into her bathroom and filled the bathtub.

Now, she was lying in a pool of lukewarm water, staring at her forearms.

The skin was not hard to break.

She looked at her wounds and still felt nothing.

It was funny how quickly the pain faded. She went from numb, to crying from the sting of the blade, right back to numbness. That moment of feeling was short lived, but it was nearly the only time she felt anything.

Even when she was crying, even when she was screaming, she felt nothing.

Depression is strange.

You feel nothing at all while feeling everything at once. It doesn’t make sense to those who have never felt it, and Nesta envied those who had never felt it. It’s like a war going on inside of your mind at all times, but there’s never an ending, and there’s never a winner. Each battle ends the same way: in nothing but numbness. 

Emptiness.

Stupid.

Idiot.

No personality.

Worthless. She felt worthless. 

She had no idea who she was anyone, had lost the sense of who she was a long time ago.

She looked at her arms, at the streaks of crimson that would soon heal and scar.

And she hated herself even more.

~~~~~

Chapter 3 coming soon.

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[wolfiebucky]

Finn Wolfhard x Reader Fluff

warnings:cursing

Part 1.

EDIT: OMG THANK YOU FOR EVERYONE WHO LIKED PART TWO WILL BE POSTED NEXT WEEK SO FOLLOW ME FOR UPTADES :D

A/N So this is my first published imagine hope you guys like it :)

Plot: You were are introduced in the 2nd season as a love interest for Gaten's Character, but who really was crazy about you is Finn, and when during a promoting interview Finn accidentally confesses he has a crush on you the fandom goes crazy.

_____________

" Schnapp you better come here right now if you don't want me to kick your ass!" Noah and you were running around his dressing room while the others were out fixing their microphones.

Since season 3 was about to come out every single cast member was currently part of the promotion Tour, which was honestly your least favorite part. Yes you enjoyed spending time with the cast, they are like your second family, but infinite interviews and having jet lag is no fun at all for anyone. You're in Australia right now waiting for everyone to get ready and Noah had took your phone and was checking your DMs to the girls and the group chat that you guys have.

"Oh come on (Y/N) what can be so bad that you don't want to show me?" He laughed while trying to run from you, you went around the couch and snatched from his hand.

"HA!" You immediately turned it off and put it in your purse.

"What? you don't want me to see how much you talk about Finn with Mills?" He layed on the couch while eating some chips and taking out his own phone.

"I knew you were dumb but apparently you are crazy as well." you tried to ignore him while fixing your hair in front of the mirror and re-doing your lipstick.

Finn and you have been Best friends for almost 2 years know, your characters didn't talk much or even liked eachother, but out of the screen you guys were inseparable and had so much fun. He went to your house often he teached you how to play guitar, took you to many of his concerts and even let you appear in one of his music videos along side Caleb. You soon realized what you biggest fear was... you had a crush on him. Your first instinct was telling Sadie since she was the one you were closer with out of the girls. But slowly everyone started to realize and soon the fans did too starting the (YourShipName) Movement.

"Oh stop pretending, all of us know you're crazy for him, even Gaten! you know, he might be the one you kiss on TV but the way you look at Finney is no performance"

"So what if I have I crush on him?" You turned around and faced Noah "it's not like anything will happen, he doesn't see me that way and I accepted that".

Noah raised an eyebrow and sigh "You're delusional" he said smiling "Have you even asked Finn?!" he said frustrated.

"No but-"

"Ask me what?" There he was, standing right next you, you looked at Noah waiting for him to anwser but he just smirked and kept quiet. "Quick think of something (Y/N)" You thought for yourself.

"Uhmm...I...I-...I was just going to ask when do we have to be on stage?" You knew Noah rolled his eyes behind you and even heard him sigh, you gave him the middle finger behind your back and he laughed.

"Oh, right about now actually. They gave us a sitting order by the way , (Y/N) you're next to Gaten, I’m next to (Y/N), Millie is next to me and Noah next to Millie , I think they want to appeal to the fans and stuff ". he smiled.

You gave him a smile back "Cool see ya there toad" you said sarcasticly to Finn while he was exiting the room.

"Be there on time midget!" Finn said referring to your height and laughing while leaving.

You gave Noah a sign for him to get up the couch and looked at him with a cold expression.

"You're a chicken (Y/N)" You smiled and hit his shoulder "UH OUCH?" You smiled "That's what you get idiot, come one we can't be late"

________

"Today we are welcoming a couple of young talented actors who had made their way through success for the last couple years with their successful show avilable on Netflix. Please welcome the cast of 'Stranger Things', Finn Wolfhard, Millie Bobby Brown, Gaten Matarazzo, Caleb McLaughlin, Sadie Sink, Noah Schnapp and (Y/N) (Y/L/N)!"

The moment you heard your name you entered the stage, you saw this big crowd screaming and applauding while you were walking next to Gaten and waved to the people while you were walking to your sit.

"Hey guys , first of all welcome! thanks for coming" Said the host, she was a 20 maybe 25 year old blonde woman greeting you with a big smile " I am so exited to meet you and we have some questions for you that are from your fans all over the globe so if you guys are down we can get right into it!"

"Of course go ahead" Said Finn with a big smile.

"So the first question is for Caleb from Jean all the way from the UK, and it's about your character 'Will Lucas stop being underrated and have some badass moments?". The audience cheered and applauded.

"I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who thinks my character needs some justice" We all laughed "Definitely Lucas will get to prove how badasd he is so don't worry" The audience applauded.

"Awsome!" Said the woman.The next questions were more Mileven related than anything or about Funny stories that happend during filming, you weren't really paying attention anymore your feelings were all over the place Finn wise. Maybe Noah was right maybe you should tell him what you feel, but what if by saying it you ruin everything? what if he rejects you or say that he looks at you just like a friend?!, or sister?! or-

"How do you feel about that (Y/N)?" You heard you name all of the sudden, they asked you a question and you didn't heard it.

"Im sorry?" You tried to played it off, Finn and Gaten laughed at you, and you gave them a cold stare.

The interviewer smiled "How does it feel being a newbie to the cast? considering that your character "April" was introduced along side Max. Have you had any issues or do you think you fit right in?"

"Oh no no, I definitely feel at home. When I started this i was definitely scared, and the biggest helpers were Finn and Winona they just took me under their wing and will forever be thankful for that." the crowd went awwww and Finn out of nowhere grabbed your hand for a second and whisperd "Thank you" while smiling.

Your heart was beating so fast and your face was as red as a tomato, you couldn't help it you were crazy about him and to not be able to tell him drove you insane.

"So Finn and (Y/N), you guys are very close everyone knows that, you always post pictures on instagram while you hang out, and do lives together tell us about that!" She had a smirk on, like she was trying to find something out, something that you won't allow the world to know.

"Well..." Finn started "i don't really know what to tell you, we are just, really close and i feel comfortable around her and how she is" he makes a pause and looked at you "How her Jokes are so bad they make me laugh" You can hear the audience laugh but you don't laugh, you just pay attention to Finn's eyes and lips "How she's always supporting me, my band, my projects...How she lights up the set when she arrives and How she laughs when she says the wrong line...She's just amazing"

Everything was quiet, it felt like it was only you and him at that moment, he looks at you with the sweetest smile you've ever seen coming from him "is this really happening?" You thought "He thinks I'm amazing!" you really couldn't believe it. He basically admitted he likes you in front of thousands of people.

What broke the silence was the applause coming from the crowd, you had to stop looking at Finn, the cast were looking at eachother laughing and smiling but you could notice how Finn turned red and tried to hide it.

After a few more questions the interview was over and you were happier than ever, after you guys walked out you could've swear you heard someone screaming "YourShipName!", and you couldn't be more happy about it.

__________

Part 2 comes next if this gets to 5 notes :)

[inexchangeforyoursoul]

*chucks this to the starving lions* Can I get, uhhh… you interested in some dabihawks intimacy over burns? (2k+ words) ( AO3 )

Hawks lacks his trademark energy. His movements, be them his quirky little leg bounce or a mundane lift of a hand, have become sluggish- that is, if he even bothers moving. Everything about him screams exhaustion, even after almost two weeks of being off duty. Forcing himself to get outside makes Dabi think the hero crazy for two entirely new reasons.

First, he’s everything but suited to walk the streets like this, with restricted mobility that’s just begging for some nosy assholes to tail him. Especially nowadays. He also could have become easy prey to petty villains in the first shady alley, as there’s no way in hell that he can use his left wing for anything but sending out some warped or puny feathers. Considering the cotton pads lining his neck and that his upper body is still covered in bandages under the tee, two sizes too big, this is also not subject to change for a while. There’s one additional pad on his left cheek, likely hiding the spot of a particularly nasty blister. And this mess here had the nerve to ask for a meetup and sneak out to this infection-ridden hole, but let's not even go there.

No, there's a bigger issue. The other reason Hawks is a madman… the thing that ties an unswallowable knot in Dabi’s stomach, and makes him reconsider coming for the umpteenth time, and legitimately uncomfortable… is that the gauze on the other's body is hiding second, if not third degree burns that he himself had inflicted, under circumstances he’d rather not even think of.

Once it becomes obvious that he won't be the one to initiate, Hawks’ familiar voice rings with forced bravado. “What’s with the long face? You look even deader than usual,” he chides the villain. It almost sounds like there wasn't a rotting elephant carcass in the room. Almost.

There's no answer he can muster. He’s just staring vacantly at the left side of the other’s face. A silent thought notes how the hero's hair grows about as fast as his feathers do after being shaved. Or burned. He made all those passive-aggressive jokes in the beginning, about what high quality kindling Hawks would make if set ablaze. And he really does burn so fast… so easily.

He should have ignored the message altogether.

Hawks sighs; his scowl softens and the tired smile disappears without a trace. No point in waltzing around the metaphorical bush, is there. “See… this is why I wanted to come. Because I figured your punk ass would wax emo over it. She's safe and sound, isn't she? And I'll just have to deal with it. It’s for doing the same damn heroic thing you keep chewing me out on, after all. Can’t help not make dumb decisions? Then let them bite you in the ass! So it did, you were right! Congrats. Not that it’s a big deal, though. This shit’s always been part of my job description.”

He cannot find it in himself to give an edge to the words, or get any snarkier with Dabi right now. The incident had some really bad timing. Things… had already been changing between them, for better or worse. Dabi’s painfully aware of this, too. As for Hawks…

It's hard to forget what it looks like. The way a man's blind rage and murderous intent change to the frantic panic and horror of a child at the drop of a hat… What seeing it feels like, as your left side is set on fire in real time, feeling a thousand-degree hand print itself into your flesh in slow motion, before it’s yanked away as if it had been charred by something burning even hotter inside you. What Dabi’s voice sounds like when in distress, calling out for someone he cared for, thinking he hurt them. Then the change to a faint moment of immense relief in those haunting eyes as your body goes into shock, before giving way to some kind of indescribable emotion that’s the bastard child of those preceding it, and more.

Dabi blinks, eyes still fixated over the rose-laced, ghastly pale patchwork on Hawks’ tan skin. That's a job description he wouldn't have to worry about if he had been given a choice, the idiot. First, he was mad at him that he would intervene. But… if Hawks hadn’t been there, and jumped in between a few minutes later, he---

“It's weird and creepy to have you staring at me like this, you know? The world didn't quite end, but aren't there some news which you should be raving about…? There's chaos and distrust all over the place, people are suspicious of everything labelled hero… they even got rid of that flaming pile of garbage to save some face, didn't they? I'm having it nice with the second guesses around my alignment and inactivity, to be honest… Slipping from the top ten while also being hospitalized makes you have time for yourself! Who would have thought?” It won’t stay like this. No, no… his name is just clean enough from every available angle that both the populace and the Commission trust him and in his return. Latter will want to get him battle ready as soon as possible, right after screaming their heads off at him. He’ll get a message next week, tops. He’s almost happy to oblige, though…

“I’ve been wanting some me time for a while now, but, how should I put it... now that I got my wish… I feel like shit, and can’t do shit that I’d like to do. Karma, bitch- I’m sitting in my room all day, with no idea how to pass time, haha!” No learning to play the guitar, gardening, or how to bake brownies. He can't even take a proper shower with all the bandages and his left shoulder being as stiff as a board. There's only his body, pulsating with slowly rising, light fever, and the numb existence after taking one of those potent painkillers before the aching starts all over again. He usually cannot even remember what happens in the series he ends up watching. It’s frustrating as all hell, and killing his ADHD-plagued ass whenever he has the energy to do something. He would have gone crazy if even his right hand had been off-limits.

If not for Hawks, he would have...

The blonde’s eyes flicker to his aching side as his fake smile returns, and he lifts a hand over the bandages covering his neck. The fingers look mangled under thick layers of shedding, dead skin; the rest, still hidden from view. “The model gig is off the table, too, I guess. They are planning to patch my face up once my wings and joints are salvaged, from what I could gather. Not that it’s a priority, though.” There’s a pause. “I also caught up with my feed, and some ‘fans’ just up and left after getting a little sunburn, too… like, seriously!? That’s just mean,” he moans with thinly veiled disappointment. He exhales with closed eyes and the barely-smile, fingers lingering at the edges of the exposed burns. The expression sticks for a moment.

He would have… burned his mother.

Dabi steps closer, reaching up to Hawks’ face, then barely touches his wounded cheek. This prompts the other to open his eyes again, with light surprise, confusion, and perhaps wariness reflecting in them. “It’s high time those little snots reevaluated their tastes,” Dabi speaks up at last, brushing the back of his fingers over the sensitive skin. He never gave a flying fuck about pretty faces, but… “You never looked better.”

To anybody else, this would sound like a dig… which, it kind of is. But Hawks can read and hear the subtext, which is to say, mild disdain and genuine gratitude. It’s… something else, though. Basically being told that he’s the most beautiful he’s ever been. It’s doing funny things to him inside- it’s beyond great to feel something after the days spent as a walking vegetable. Those fingers are, ironically, also nice and cool against his aching skin, but all of this is getting a little too much to handle at once.

Intended or not, it worms an involuntary (and rather painful), real smile out of Hawks. “Wow… gross.”

He’d be amused at the answer already, but the smile is what gives Dabi whiplash, cracking the uneasiness boulder the size of a truck sitting on his chest and sending him straight to cloud nine. Which is not something that he wants right now, goddammit.

And he would backpedal on the spot, because this backfired really bad, but Hawks has already placed his marred hand over his, and is reaching up with his other one, too. The relatively undamaged right is placed over his bare arm and traces over the scarred-up skin.

“… Does it still hurt a lot?” Hawks asks then, examining the burns meticulously; the texture sends a small chill down his spine, forcing all remaining hair on his body to stand.

He lost sleep over thinking about this. It’s a little embarrassing… thinking about whether Dabi’s wounds hurt as much as his do, all of the time. Or how he took the news. Last thing he kind of remembers before waking up to numb aches is getting an ice layer cast over him by the youngest Todoroki, and all he knew after finally catching up on the news was that the villain managed to escape and was MIA. Honestly… he had just been worried and thinking about Dabi a lot.

… Okay, it’s very embarrassing. And alarming.

“Can’t feel much where it's like that,” he admits. Where gentle fingers run over dead skin, there's a ghost of a presence that the surviving nerves deep below give notice of. A hint of warmth, maybe. Nothing more. “Not now, nor when the stuff cracks and bleeds. What will hurt… are these spots,” he guides the man’s hand up to the staples over his wrist, then takes the same hand and rubs lazy circles over a healed-up spot. “Dead and live skin don’t get along well. They get pulled apart easily, especially if you are still growing… and shit swells and tears when you are not careful. But you’ve already seen that happen to me.” Having finished the vaguely educational monologue, he looks Hawks in the eyes. “It’s also bold of you to waltz into a cesspool like this one. The plague eats roast meat for breakfast, and I hear chicken’s his favourite.”

The last line revives the smile before it could fade, and he looks back at Dabi, too. “Aww, worried~?”

“Nah,” the villain replies with the corners of his mouth also creeping upwards. Hawks’ dulled senses don’t even register that he’s already in his face until it’s too late; “The plague is me.”

The kiss is tender, and lasts only a second or two; before the hero knows it, it’s already over. He blinks first, trying to decide whether he just hallucinated this under the influence of drugs, or it was a real-ass thing that just happened… then hides his mouth behind his free hand with a blushing face.

“… that was totally uncalled for,” he mumbles, trying not to sound whiny, while also trying his best to look as angry as possible. It’s entirely futile as he can’t get rid of the fully grown, shit eating grin, though. “I’m still running a fever, you know. This is not helping.”

Burning face and heart aside, a part of him feels bad about this. Even if nobody asked Dabi to do this. It’s as if he was using the situation for selfish gains.

“In that case, get your sorry ass back to the hospital or whatever, little phoenix,” Dabi purrs, giving another kiss on his temples once Hawks manages to look at him again. The villain lets go of the hand at last, but stays close, staring into the other’s eyes for a moment.

There it is again. That ‘more’ he saw in them back then. It’s stupid, yes… but Hawks would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy basking in the glint that’s so foreign to those eyes.

He doesn’t get much time to enjoy himself, as Dabi’s lips are already curling into an impish smile; “Then, once you resurrect from those ashes… maybe we could run a fever together, hmm?”

Hawks spends the next minutes cursing softly from behind both hands as his ears start burning up, too... and Dabi just laughs, not caring for the blood leaking from his face.

***

*old HDD processing noises* not that I’m particularly happy with it, but yeah, I think this is the first kiss I’ve ever written. hell, those may be even the first vaguely suggestive lines that are meant to be taken seriously that I’ve ever written. Hide yo wives, and hide yo husbands, this is the beginning, I’m going hog wild y’all

ps admit it… the half-assed summary had your expectations fooled

[otabangbang]

The Sliding Tiger: Part Two

Read Part 1 HERE This part is mostly dialogue, as we learn about the stranger Otabek has found...

"Call the local emergency number. He's probably a missing person who needs medical help."

"Maybe." Yuuri's words made sense and Otabek knew in any other situation, that was exactly what he should do. It didn't mean he wanted to.

"No maybe about it, Otabek. You found a passed out man in a bunch of bushes with no idea how long he's been there. Medical attention is important at least!" Yuuri's soft voice carried alarm in it and it unnerved Otabek. He didn't hear that an awful lot since Yuuri and Viktor had moved in with each other.

"What made you think he's a missing person, anyway? He could have wandered off from some friends here and gotten lost. Maybe then proceeded to trip and hit his head." And lose all his clothes...

"Something about it seems really weird," came Yuuri's swift reply. "I-I'm not sure what aside from him being naked, exactly, but the way you describe everything, it doesn't sound like a place someone just wanders from their group."

Otabek shrugged despite the fact Yuuri could not see anything he did. He rubbed his forehead, the phone clutched tightly in his other hand. He was leaning against the car, having managed to awkwardly lay the man down in the back. He couldn't be happier he was driving a hatchback, though he still had to move some equipment around. "Perhaps you're right. I don't really know. Yuuri, not to ignore your advice, but I'm going to attempt to give him some time to wake up before I call anyone."

"Otabek..." Caution came through in his voice then. "You don't know what kind of person he might be."

That irritated Otabek. It irritated him more than it rationally should and he was well aware of it. He didn't know who the man was, but he was sure, he was fully sure that he wasn't a bad person. "Yup. I know."

"I'm not trying to be a jerk about this. If you'd called Viktor he'd probably even be worse."

"I realize that." Otabek let out a sigh. "I understand, Yuuri. I'll be careful, alright?" he assured him. "I don't want to be too hasty, perhaps he was hidden away for good reason too."

"That could be. I trust your judgement Otabek...listen, just let me know how it goes after he wakes up, okay?" Yuuri sounded tired then.

"Of course. I'll text or call," Otabek told him. "Alright, I'm going to deal with rearranging the car. Thanks, Yuuri." With that, their call was over and Otabek was again alone with an unconsious man.

How would he wake him up? He didn't have smelling salts. He also had no desire to dump water all over him and the car, and he wasn't going to wake him up with alarm due to loud noises. Perhaps he could shake him? But what if he awoke suddenly and violently? There wasn't much to do except wait it out, and Otabek did happen to be pretty patient. He continued to lean on his car, eventually turning it on to play some soft music and break up the silence since there continued to be no one immediately around him.

He hadn't thought it would be enough to wake up his passenger, but about ten minutes into the music he managed to hear a small moan in between songs. Immediately he shoved his phone in his pocket and whipped around from the side of the car to look in the back, the trunk door raised since he put him in there. The man was laying there still with Otabek's jacket over his hips but his eyes were open - only about halfway, but they were open, and he turned his head.

"Hey," Otabek said, standing at the edge of the trunk and not knowing what the hell else he should do. The man didn't really react, still slowly waking up. Otabek cleared his throat and tried again. "HEY."

Suddenly the blonde's head snapped up and his eyes were wide, looking at Otabek. "The fuck are you!?" he asked and his hands, which had been limp at his side, suddenly dug into the floor of the car and his legs kicked to try and move back. "The fuck - where am I!?"

"Safe safe!" Otabek cried urgently. He didn't know what else to say and was close to grunting random words like a big ape. "You're safe!"

"Safe!?"

"SAFE! Yes! I found you laying in the brush and brought you here to be somewhere safe!" Otabek replied as the other was trying to scoot himself up against one of Otabek's cases of equipment.

"You...found me?" The sense of urgency dropped but a tiny bit to give way to curiousity. "I don't believe you!"

Otabek didn't know how to respond; clearly the man hadn't meant to be found, or hadn't expected to wind up in a situation where he would be. "It's true! I went for a walk and I found you laying there. I didn't know what to do except bring you back here. Look, what's your name?"

The blonde's captivating eyes narrowed. "Why should I tell you? Why am I naked?" That last question had an accusing tone to it.

"I have no idea why you're naked, alright? I put my jacket on you because of that. I'm Otabek Altin." Maybe if he introduced himself it would move things along. He hoped anyway.

"This is your jacket?"

"Uh-huh. Sorry if it's not very soft."

The other man continued to stare at him. Otabek was painfully aware that he was being judged, that a decision was being made. He could only hope the decision would be for Otabek to help him. If the stranger rejected his help and left, it felt like it would tear him apart and he didn't even know his name.

He knew his smell and he knew his eyes. He knew he'd be dumb to ignore that.

Then suddenly, the hard stare dropped. The man sighed. "No, it's fine. I'm Yuri," he said, and it suddenly felt like they knew each other.

But they didn't. "Cool." Otabek had to scramble on what to say next. "Uh! I have clothes if you want to wear them. They're a little big but-"

"Well yea, they're better than being fucking naked!" Yuri snapped and the tiny bit of softness that Otabek thought he felt an inkling of was gone.

"Right, right," Otabek muttered and pulled his suitcase from where he'd moved it on the backseat. When he had it arranged, he opened it to search for clothes. He didn't want to choose something that would make Yuri think he was trying to say something about him. "Uh so you don't know how you got here?"

"No!"

"Where are you from?" he asked as he selected a pair of jeans and a black belt with silver studded stars to help the smaller man keep them on.

For a moment there was silence. Then Yuri answered. "Uh, St. Petersburg, sort of. But I got moved around and now I'm in Spain."

"Spain? You're...pretty far from home."

"I...wait, where the hell am I?"

"Lake Galichskoye..." Otabek was growing more concerned by Yuri's confusion. He found a short sleeve shirt featuring a lime green guitar with wings and picked up that. The last thing was to choose underwear and unfortunately the ones that would fit Yuri best had a bear eating honey on the ass. He stepped back with the pile of clothes. "...In Russia."

Suddenly Yuri's head popped up over the seat, his eyes wide and gaze on Otabek. "No fucking way! I'm back in Russia? After all these years?"

Otabek blinked and then handed over the clothes, Yuri reaching eagerly past the seat for them. "I-I guess. How long were you in Spain?" "Ummmm...I guess I moved there around eleven or twelve. I don't...I don't really remember."

Moving around could be blurry in memory and Otabek nodded. "I see." Meanwhile, his heart had started to beat against his chest. At the training camp, the boy with the eyes and the lavender smell had been ten or so. The boy he never saw again - well that sounded like the age he may have moved away.

"And fuck I hated it! Fuck!" Yuri sort of vanished as he shrank back behind the seat to put on clothes. Otabek was focusing on the area outside the car, thinking as Yuri kept on. "Grandpa must have done something....shit! I don't know what the hell happened but....ah..." He trailed off and Otabek could hear him shifting around.

"Is this somewhere he would have brought you?" Otabek asked, knowing he had to piece things together.

"Maybe." Otabek heard more shuffling. "But...whenever we went to lakes, they were frozen. He would take me ice skating."

His heart almost stopped. "Skating?"

"Yea, what, there something weird about that? I was damn good at it! I think I could dance too, but...well again, things get kind of blurry. I used to wonder if I hit my head."

"Nothing weird! I-I like skating," Otabek said, turning around quickly. He wasn't going to get into the fact that he was kind of world famous. "I just didn't expect it I guess."

Yuri was crawling out of the back of the car by then, his clothes baggy on Yuri's thin frame. Otabek wasn't really big, just more muscular. "Uh-huh." He was kind of cute as he stared down at himself and then looked back up at Otabek. He looked like he wanted to say something but was hesitant for a moment. "...So what now?"

"I don't know." They silently regarded each other, Otabek and the strange person he'd found. "I have no idea where you came from. You want to call your Grandpa?"

Yuri nodded, suddenly paused, and frowned. "Fuck."

"What?"

"I don't know his number. His name is Nikolai but..." Yuri furrowed his brow in thought. "I don't- I can't remember his last name. It's not the same as mine."

"What is your last name?"

Yuri looked right back at him, his eyes wide and lost looking, but still not lacking the drive he knew was there. "Plisetsky."

He knew he had to know that name. Had to! But if Otabek couldn't place it, perhaps Viktor could. Skating, Russian from St. Petersburg, there was at least a small shot. "Okay. I'm going to text one of my friends in St. Petersburg and see if he might be able to dig something up."

"Pfft." Yuri rolled his eyes. "You know how many people live in that city? He's not going to know who I am just because I once lived in the same city, that's stupid."

Otabek chose not to mention who exactly Viktor was as he took out his phone. He wasn't sure it was really the time to mention Viktor's incredible fame, if only because he would have to then get to his own. "Better chance than me, I'm originally from Kazakhstan," he answered as he typed to Viktor: 'The name Plisetsky sound familiar?'

"Huh." Yuri shrugged. "Anyway, now what?"

"I don't know. What do you want to do?"

"Why were you here anyway?"

"Oh." Otabek sighed. "I'm on a trip across country, with at least a week left ahead of me." It pained him to say the next thing, but he had to. "I'm really only at the start of this trip, but if you need to go to St. Petersburg, I'll take you."

"Wow, what a hero you are. That's dumb, just get me to an airport and I'll fly back."

"With what money?" Otabek asked, an eyebrow raised. Not that he inspected Yuri's naked body, but he sure didn't see anywhere to keep a wallet.

Yuri's face transformed into the very portrait of confusion. "Oh. Uhhhh..."

"Look...Antropovo is about an hour away. We can go there and check into a hotel while you figure stuff out. How about that?" Otabek asked, hoping like hell Yuri would say yes. Aside from not knowing what else to do, he wanted to keep Yuri close as he tried to understand what the hell was happening to himself.

Yuri kept giving him that confused look, until he sighed and nodded. "Yea, okay. I guess so. If I can talk to Grandpa he can get me home and you can continue your trip."

Otabek nodded. He would still volunteer to take Yuri back, though. Missing the gig would be difficult, but if he had to do it to understand why he'd felt weird for such a long time, then he would cope with it. "Alright. Let me load some of this back into the car properly, and we'll get going."

"Okay." Yuri stepped over to the back and reached in, withdrawing the jacket Otabek had laid over him, holding it out. "Here...thank you, by the way."

Otabek didn't know what to really say so he just nodded as he took it and put it back on even if he wasn't cold. Then he joined Yuri at the back of the car to start rearranging things back the way they should be. His stomach growled. "Are you feeling up to eating? I'm pretty hungry."

"Not much of an appetite, but maybe I should try to eat anyway," Yuri told him. His hands were out to help, but he was mostly watching Otabek. "What is all this stuff, anyway?"

"Oh. Equipment for the gig I'm on my way to...I'm a DJ," he told him, a light blush in his cheeks. It felt weird to bring it up to Yuri for some reason.

"You're a DJ!?" Yuri asked, and loudly. It was nearly a yell. "That is so cool!" That WAS a yell.

"Oh ah-" Otabek didn't know how to react, but he laughed a little awkwardly. "Yea, it kind of is."

"There's no 'kind of', that shit's awesome!" Yuri was grinning as Otabek looked up to him. "You better play some good music on the drive!"

Otabek smiled despite himself. He was relieved that Yuri had come around since intially waking up. Hopefully, he could keep his mood up. "I will. I won't let you down, Yuri." And he meant that.

[lito-thegawd]

WingStop Fatboy Need A 10pc.

“Lookin' at my bitch I bet she give your ass a bone/
Lookin' at my wrist it'll turn your ass to stone/
Stretch limousine, sipping Rosé all alone/
Double-headed monster with a mind of his own/
Cherry red chariot, excess is just my character/
All black tux, nigga shoes lavender/

Never needed acceptance from all you outsiders/

Had cyphers with ‘Yeezy before his mouth wired/

I mean the guitar was going insane and then boom! This big fat black dude came in like an overweight superhero. Those 8 bars rang in like a bomb. That shit came off soo perfect sorta of like, “a hot comb over nappy ass hair”. Shout out Antwan Patton! That’s a hell of an introduction, yea. Whatever that was I needed more of, and I’ll be goddamn if he ain’t provide it.

Ross tap danced all over this song. He came with the fury and vigor of an angry sumo wrestler. Who also had the grace and style of a gymnast. William’s lines were so vivid and life like. He was a sniper with 28 bars of ammunition. Ross showed no mercy and was incredibly meticulous how he stepped in and out of the pocket. Each line was like Piccaso in his prime toying with a canvas.

“hater talking never made me mad/
Never that not when I'm in my favorite papertag/
Therefore G4's at the Clearport/
When it come to tools fool I'm a Pep Boy/
When it came to dope I was quick to export/
Never tired of ballin' so it's on to the next sport/
New Mercedes sedan, the Lex sport/
So many cars DMV thought it was mail fraud/
Different traps, I was getting mail from/
Polk County, Jacksonville, rep Melbourne/
Whole clique appetite's had tapeworms/
Spinning Teddy Pendergrass vinyl as my J burns/“

TALK THAT SHIT ROSS! I can literally feel these words flowing through my veins as I transcribe them. The sequences of ignoring haters, flossing cars, and being a drug king pin was too much for me. As a listener I always enjoy when the writer can bring me into his life. Whether true or not. All I know is Ross is the biggest boss we’ve seen thus far. Personally I’m fine with that. I’ve often said if I had to donate a song to a time capsule for the future... Yea. This is my song. This shit is a crown jewel. It’s a moment in rap history where everything was perfect. The beat was flawless. Ye’s initial verse was stellar. Ross’s guest feature was the tip of the iceberg. It’s funny because my A.D.D. usually won’t let me take in 28 bars. It’s just too much. Not this time though. He probably could’ve gave me 36 bars. Not a complaint would’ve been spoken.

“I shed a tear before the night's over/
God bless the man I put this ice over/
Getting 2Pac money twice over/
Still a real nigga, red Coogi sweater, dice roller/
I'm making love to the angel of death/
Catching feelings never stumble, retracing my steps/”

Chills. Literally. Fucking chills. We do not deserve William Roberts. YOU MAKING LOVE TO THE ANGEL OF DEATH? Shit. Tell me more Ross. What does she look like? She bad? I seriously have never been curious about the angel of death until this verse. Rip Pac. Rip Big. Ross in my top 10. I’m yelling that last sentence from Mt. Olympus. I generally listen to this on repeat. 4 or 5 of them if we’re being specific. I suggest you do the same.

- The gawd

Best of Rick Ross playlist below.

https://itunes.apple.com/us/playlist/wing-stop-fat-boy-need-a-10-pc/pl.f9db7cda37b84a2392d9f05eb75b3655